A Choice of Treasons (70 page)

York nodded. “Yup. One of my hunter-killer tricks. Now, how do we get inside without getting our mutual ass shot off?”

Richard laughed again, rubbed his chin while looking once more at York’s screens. “Well, cap’em, I suppose we just knock on the door.”

“And how do I do that?”

Richard shrugged. “Give Borreggan Traffic Control a call and tell ‘em you’re here.”

York wasn’t sure how much to trust Richard. “Okay,” he said. “Miss McGeahn. please contact Borreggan TC and request docking clearance. And play it straight.”

York handed Richard a headset so he could listen to the contact. “Borregga TC,” McGeahn said calmly. “This is the Imperial Warship
Cinesstar
, Captain York Ballin commanding, requesting docking clearance.”

They waited through a long pause, then McGeahn repeated the request. Another pause, and then finally an answer, “Say again, out there. We read you wrong. Sounded like you said you’re an
imper
. Please identify.”

McGeahn grinned and York could see it coming. “You read me right first time. I am an
imper
, and this is an
imper
cruiser with an
imper
crew. This is the Imperial Warship
Cinesstar
, Captain York Ballin commanding, requesting docking clearance.”

Again a long pause while York noted an increase in electronic activity throughout the system. “Please identify your position,
Cinesstar
.”

McGeahn glanced at York through the instrument clusters. He nodded and she broadcast their coordinates.

“
Cinesstar
, we see nothing at those coordinates. Please confirm.”

McGeahn looked again at York, but this time he shook his head. Borregga wouldn’t be happy until they could see something that agreed with what McGeahn was telling them. York touched a switch on his console. “Cappik. Full combat status. Gravity, shields, the works.”

As the gravity came up and York settled under his own weight, the electronic activity around Borregga shot right off the scale.

“Yer crazy,” the Borreggan tech shouted. “You can’t attack us.”

“Miss McGeahn,” York said. “I’ll take it from here.”

He spoke carefully. “This is Captain York Ballin, commanding
H.M.S. Cinesstar
. We are not attacking you. Andyne-Borregga is a free port, and this ship wishes merely to avail itself of her facilities.”

“You’re nuts,” the tech shouted back. “
Impers
don’t come here. You can’t—”

The link went silent, then a different, calmer voice took over. “This is Antolla Breaug, Yard Captain, Borregga Yard. I’ve heard of you, Ballin. What’s the empire want here?”

York was walking a narrow legal line. “The empire wants nothing here,” he said. “But my relationship with my superiors has deteriorated somewhat, and I’m told Borregga, as a free port, can provide facilities on an independent basis.”

Richard leaned close to York’s ear, “I know Breaug. Let me talk to ‘im, Cap’em.”

York nodded, switched Richard’s headset into the connection. “Breaug. This here’s Richard. Get hold of Dandra and Kruhl. Tell ‘em we got us a new fish. And what a fish we got!”

“Richard?” Breaug demanded. “What the hell are you doing on an imperial warship? And why should I believe you anyway? You ran out on your docking fees again.”

That set the tone of the conversation. Yarmin Dandra turned out to be the elected Governor General of Andyne-Borregga, while Sefath Kruhl was the Chairman of the Mexak League. Before all was said and done both men had joined the conversation, and while Richard’s freewheeling style made it impossible to completely reach an agreement—which was exactly what York wanted—they did get some basic terms in place, and York learned quite a bit.

Kruhl was the number one pirate in the Mexak League, and a powerful man. Borregga was a large commercial concern, independent of the Mexak League, and Dandra was her duly elected governor. It became obvious his first concern was Borregga, and not the League, and after watching him face down Kruhl on a few points of contention, it was clear he was the man they had to satisfy.

Richard told them about the double-cross at Sarasan—which was why York had him on hand—and that appeared to ease Dandra’s concerns a bit. Richard also made a lot of noise about York applying for membership in the League, reminded them pointedly he was the infamous
Butcher Ballin
. That clearly pleased Kruhl, but not Dandra. For his part, York was careful to agree only to pay for docking fees and all services, and to abide by Borregga’s regulations for a foreign ship in port—they transmitted a copy to York. He carefully avoided discussing or agreeing to apply for membership in the Mexaks, though Richard assumed he would and spoke of it often and loudly. Such talk generated a lot of strange, side-long glances from York’s crew.

Once Dandra was satisfied York’s intentions were unofficial and purely commercial, they were given clearance for docking, and one day to establish some sort of credit. And then, with poor Eldinow at the helm, they spent the next several hours maneuvering through the asteroid belt to a zero gravity berth in the main docks on one of the largest asteroids. They spotted several asteroids with considerable capability in the firepower department.

“Cappik,” York barked into his implants. “ Don’t power down. Maintain full combat status indefinitely and until further notice.”

“Commander Rame, you have the bridge.” York stood up from the captain’s console. Rame saluted him and sat down in his place. York looked at him carefully. “Keep this ship on alert until you hear from me. No one on or off without my express permission.”

York looked at Palevi and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Put Richard here back on ice, Sergeant.”

Palevi grinned, grabbed Richard by an arm. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Richard squawked, “But we had a deal, Captain.”

York gave him a Palevi style grin. “And I’ll keep my end of it. But not until I’m absolutely sure you’ve kept yours. I assume it won’t trouble you to wait another day or two while I make sure of that.”

“Okay, Cap’em,” Richard said, as if he had a choice in the matter. Then he grinned and nodded. “I think you and me understand each other real good, Cap’em.”

Once Richard was out of ear shot, York turned to Rame again. “Olin, pick a couple of people you trust, smart ones. Send them out in civilian clothing, as if they’re on leave from some ship. They ought to be able to find a bar or two, have a drink or two, buy a drink or two for someone with a big mouth, see what rumors are floating about, see what they can learn.”

“Good idea,” Rame said. “But why don’t I send out three or four teams? They’ll learn more, and they can track each other, back each other up if there’s any trouble.”

“Good idea.”

Fithwallen, Omasin and Faiel were waiting for him in Fithwallen’s cabin. York told them, “We’re docked in Borregga, but Dandra won’t give us a spot in their repair yard until we establish some sort of credit. They’re obviously assuming I’ll do that by going straight to the Mexaks. And we have twenty hours to do otherwise.”

“Why Captain,” Fithwallen said, chuckling. “I’m impressed. I’ve always been given to believe career military personnel were incapable of creative thinking, especially creative lying.”

York frowned at her, not sure how to take her remark. “Right now we’re sitting at a loading dock running up fees. So what next?”

“I’ll call my office here and order us a car to run us over to the bank. We can have this matter cleared up within the hour.”

“Where is this bank?”

“It’s on one of the other asteroids.”

York shook his head. “We’ll take one of our . . .” York almost said
gunboats
, “. . . marine shuttles.”

“Fine. But I should call ahead.”

York keyed his implants. “Olin, this is York. Miss Fithwallen needs to make a call to her bank. Please arrange it for her.” York didn’t need to tell Rame to monitor the call closely.

To Fithwallen he said, “I’ll meet you down on Hangar Deck in ten minutes. The marines outside your cabin will show you the way.”

She smiled and he left. Out in the corridor he gave quick instructions to the two marines, then keyed his implants and spoke while walking. “Palevi, this is Ballin. I want an assault team of twenty marines ready on the double, in full combat armor. Put Yagell in charge of them, and make sure they’ve got whatever equipment might be necessary to break into a bank under fire.”

“We gonna rob a bank, Cap’em?” Palevi asked with a certain amount of anticipation in his voice.

“No, I’m going into one. And if, for some reason, they decide not to let me out, I want your people ready to change their minds. But they’re going to have to stay hidden in
Two
until and unless they’re needed. I also need a visible escort, say ten more of your people in light kit—with visible sidearms but without armor. And make them your biggest and brawniest and ugliest, with you in charge.”

“Am I big and brawny and ugly, Cap’em?”

“You do qualify for ugly, Sergeant. Next, I want Notay and four of your best people—smart ones—all armed to the teeth, but nothing that shows. And put them all in navy uniforms, brand new ones. And make Notay an officer. She’s now Lieutenant Notay, my chief accountant, and the four with her are her staff. Try to pick people that look like accountants, whatever accountants look like. With me will be Sarra Fithwallen, Brentin Omasin, Jandeer Faiel, and Thomas Harshaw. Of the four marines, assign one to each of the four, with Notay assigned to me. None of them are to ever let their assignment out of their sight. And make sure whomever you assign to Faiel is good—Faiel’s a pro. You got all that?”

“You bet ya, sir. Sounds like we’re gonna have some fun.”

“No, Sergeant, I doubt it. Probably won’t be any fighting at all.”

CHAPTER 31: ANDYNE-BORREGGA

Councilor Ard’dha’sit, primary seat of the Kinathin delegation to the Directorate General Council, waited impatiently for the shuttle to settle into its docking berth. He was tempted to reread the private communiqué from Add’kas’adanna, but he already knew its contents well, and doing so would only upset him further.

It had come to him in a most unusual fashion, carried by a young sublegion who had been personally instructed by Add’kas’adanna to hand deliver the message directly. After dismissing the sublegion Ard’dha’sit had opened the packet, and found, to his surprise, an envelope and a message hand written on paper, not coded onto a computer card. No one but Ard’dha’sit was to know of the envelope, and it was to be opened only in the event of Add’kas’adanna’s death. And then, only a few days later, he had received word of Add’kas’adanna’s death. There was
kith’ain
debt between them.

The true message contained within the envelope had upset and confused him terribly. Add’kas’adanna had invoked the
kith’ain
debt between them, and had written of her concern that Ninda was close to killing her
kith’ain
. There were implications of a devious political plot, and a request that Ard’dha’sit investigate her death carefully. And the circumstances of her death: her flagship torpedoed without a fight while orbiting a strategically unimportant imperial base in an apparent effort to search out and capture one, lone imperial ship. All under the orders of Ninda.

The hull of the shuttle echoed with the clang of the docking boom. Ard’dha’sit was on his feet immediately and headed for the air-lock, catching his aid off-guard. The crew of the shuttle sensed Ard’dha’sit’s impatience, so they cleared the air-lock quickly.

A young, female DCO lieutenant met him on the other side of the air-lock, bowed deeply. “Councilor Ard’dha’sit. Director Ninda is awaiting your arrival. I’ll escort you to him immediately.” She glanced questioningly at Ard’dha’sit’s personal bodyguard of six breeds.

“They will accompany me,” Ard’dha’sit said, and she nodded.

Ard’dha’sit instructed the bodyguard to wait outside Ninda’s office; he was not surprised to find Kaffair and Zort waiting with Ninda. They all rose and greeted him, smiles on their faces, but Ard’dha’sit could see the tension and fear hidden beneath the surface. Add’kas’adanna had told him about each of them: devious Ninda; spineless Zort; pragmatic Kaffair. “And where’s Theara?” Ard’dha’sit demanded, interrupting the pleasantries.

Kaffair spread his hands. “She’s been missing for some time now, though we have no proof of her death so we haven’t replaced her.”

He was lying about something.

Ninda smiled insincerely. “And now we are faced with the most untimely death of Director Add’kas’adanna.” Somehow, even while stating the obvious, Ninda lied. Ard’dha’sit began to understand why Add’kas’adanna often found working with these people so distasteful. “But Councilor, by withdrawing all Kinathin warships from DCO control you’ve seriously disrupted operations throughout the Directorate. And furthermore, by forming those ships into a single armada, and bringing them here with you, stationing them not half a light-year from this very facility . . . Well, I must protest.”