Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) (14 page)

“Lieutenant Ross. Do you have any comment or objection to my proposed actions in convening this summary trial?”

“No. My only concern, Colonel, is to join my ship. As to the actions of your officers, I am prepared to accept their apologies. However, I’m unable to comment on the reaction of Fleet when their actions are reported there.”

“Your personal response is most generous under the circumstances.” He turned to the two officers. “Gentlemen, are you prepared to offer your formal apologies to Lieutenant Ross?”

The two men, with some reluctance, formally expressed their apologies, which Steg duly accepted. The colonel continued.

“Very well. My decision is as follows. I find you each guilty as charged. Officers Ranald and Gould, you are immediately and forthwith discharged without honor from Imperial Security. You have the right to appeal to a full court-martial hearing. I need to advise you that if you do so, Fleet has the right to exercise jurisdiction in this matter. I should point out, Fleet has very harsh penalties, far harsher than I am delivering here, for this category of offense. Please advise me of your response.”

Sir, I accept your decision.”

“Sir, I also accept your decision.”

“This hearing is concluded. My decisions are final. No appeals have been requested. Gentlemen, I bid you depart, now.”

Colonel Croix waited while the two ex-officers departed with the third officer. He turned to Steg. “Lieutenant, I have just broken the careers of two otherwise promising young officers. Undoubtedly they and their friends will lay the blame at your door. I do not, because their actions were totally reprehensible, and completely outside any reasonable behavior, for an officer of my Force. In the interest of concluding this matter, I suggest you depart for your ship—” A knock on the door interrupted the colonel. “Yes?”

An aide entered. “Colonel, a Fleet officer with an armed escort from ss
Ziangka
, is requesting an interview with the Duty Officer.”

The colonel, surprised, looked sharply at Steg and back to the aide. “Did he state his business?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, Corporal, you had best show the officer in. Ask him to leave his escort in the outer office.” He turned to Steg as the aide departed. “You must have friends, Lieutenant.”

The door opened again before Steg could comment. The officer was a burly, almost gigantic Chief Petty Officer, and he was accompanied by a very young midshipman. Their salutes were almost painfully sharp and precise.

“Sir.”

“Gentlemen. Welcome. Please state your business.”

The midshipman spoke. “Yes, sir. May I present a Fleet writ? We request delivery of the person of Lieutenant Ross of ss
Ziangka
, alive and well. Fleet holds sworn statements of reliable witnesses that Imperial Security officers Ranald and Gould, and possibly one other, illegally and without cause abducted and are holding prisoner said Lieutenant Ross without just and due process. Under Fleet regulation 22365, Imperial Fleet charges that said Lieutenant Ross has been illegally detained and unlawfully prevented from attending to his appointed office and duties.” The midshipman completed his almost breathless and rapid delivery and handed a document to the colonel.

“Midshipman. Chief. The two gentlemen you named no longer are officers of Imperial Security. Lieutenant Ross stands before you, unharmed and ready to depart with you. Please convey to your commanding officer my sincere apologies and advise him he will receive attested copies of the court-martial records within the hour. Lieutenant Ross, may I again offer my apology and hope that if we meet again, it will be under far more agreeable circumstances?”

“Thank you, Colonel. Your apology is appreciated.” Steg turned to depart and halted as he remembered he still held the stunner. “Sir, the weapon that Ranald held. May I point out it is inoperative? It’s been booby-trapped. Any attempt to fire it would cause it to explode. The result would be powerful enough to cause the death of the person firing it. I suspect your recent officers were not as innocent as you surmised. However, I thank you for your courtesy.” He turned to the waiting midshipman and Chief Petty Officer. “Gentlemen, we’ve completed our business with Imperial Security.”

The Fleet gig was ready for immediate lift-off, the escort and crew impatient to leave. The midshipman hopped aboard followed by Steg and the CPO. The armed escort deployed themselves in the open-decked craft ready to provide covering fire as they departed. The escort required no conversation, engaged in no idle chat. Every move was carried out with a disciplined efficiency, which spoke of long hours of training. The gig took off with a roar, and also Steg was certain, with a flamboyance that was intended to demonstrate the power and authority of the Fleet. He hung on grimly as the pilot ignored all flight rules and blasted straight for the ship. The flight was less than five minutes and the pilot dropped the gig precisely in the landing bay.

“That will show the pockers,” commented the CPO. “Mr. Ross. Captain’s compliments and would you report to him at seven hundred hours tomorrow.” The CPO was formal as he delivered the instruction. Then he relaxed as they disembarked from the gig. “Glad you’re OK, sir. We had some heavy pressure applied to rescue you. The pockers should know not to pock with the Fleet.”

“Thank you and your men. And of course, the middie. He did an excellent job. Your arrival was very well timed.”

“Will do. We had probes monitoring your situation, Lieutenant. And while you appeared to be out of immediate danger, we wanted to ensure they didn’t have other pockers waiting for you.”

“Thank you again.”

“Sir, your quarters are on level twelve, quadrant three. One of the assistant pursers will direct you. We lift off in four hours.”

Steg managed to find his assigned quarters after obtaining guidance from an assistant purser.
Ziangka
was large and Steg, without experience of its layout, thought he could wander for hours without finding his cabin. At last he reached it and was almost overwhelmed by the effusive welcome.

“Tziksis, you made it. Good.”

“Oh master youth officer sir, Tziksis saw you being carried off and with discretion followed. Afterwards found nice beautiful lady friend and then kind Fleet officer helped for your return.”

“So you arranged the rescue party?”

“Only with help of nice young lady, very pretty is.”

“Who? Oh, you enlisted Lorraine’s assistance? She helped, did she?”

“Oh master youth, Tziksis excited is, message forgot.” He handed Steg a small envelope and continued. “Also weapons pack and magic sword with all belongings unpacked and ready are.”

Steg read the brief message. “Enjoy your Fleet experience. Perhaps our paths will cross again.” He folded the almost impersonal note carefully and placed it in his pocket. “Come on, Tziksis, we have to do our pre-lift off check, and then strap in. When this ship lifts off it will rattle a few teeth, I expect.”

The little alien clicked his agreement.

******

Chapter 12

“Mr. Ross, normally I do not personally interview
each and every junior officer.” Captain Gallos sat at the far side of a large polished desk while Steg stood stiffly to attention. “And normally I don’t have to authorize a writ of delivery and a rescue gig for them, either. Thank the powers for that small mercy. Costs have been entered against your future prize money allocation. Don’t do this too often, or you’ll never be able to retire.” He smiled at his own wit and Steg took the opportunity to speak.

“Sir—”

“Mr. Ross, you need my permission to speak. This is a warship, not a pleasure cruiser. Perhaps if you realize that and apply yourself, you may in due course become a proficient officer. Be that as it may, you appear to have some very powerful enemies. And some interesting friends, I must admit. What intrigues me is how a new, wet behind the ears lieutenant has managed to place himself in such a situation. Yes, Mr. Ross?”

“Sir, permission to speak.”

“Granted.”

“Sir, I appear to have been mistaken for someone wanted by the House of Aluta. A de Coeur. I hope now this confusion has been settled by yesterday’s events.”

Captain Gallos apparently was not convinced. “Mr. Ross, yesterday’s small storm undoubtedly earned you at least two more enemies and settled nothing. Those young thugs will be smarting for a long time and will want their revenge. If ever they catch you, especially on a dark night, I wouldn’t give peanuts for your survival. Jiggered the stunners, did they? Cunning, that. Probably outside influence, possibly Mr. Terin. The House of Aluta is a proud and influential family with a long reach and an even longer memory. But they cannot reach into my ship. No members of the family are on board. As for you, Mister, I want no House feuds or disputes on my ship, understood? Now I believe you are rostered for duty in twenty minutes. Dismissed.”

Steg saluted and turned to leave the captain’s office. He froze as Captain Gallos spoke again.

“Mister,” the captain’s voice was soft. “I have heard of the de Coeur family and of their planet. Space is full of rumors and sometimes facts are mixed in with them. My ship’s computer systems have not been interfered with. Keep it that way, there’s a good chap.”

The navigation bridge stretched in a long overlapping crescent, reflecting the exterior curve of the destroyer. Repeater screens presented external images; some showed portions of the hull of the star ship, others showed course projections, jump point maps, views of the planet and star maps. The navigation bridge also contained failsafe replication of command, battle and engineering bridges. This was a live, working environment, and viewscreens, workstations and other equipment stretched further than Steg could see, reminding him of the vast size of the star ship.

Although this was his first experience on a warship of this size, Steg’s training and experience with Homeworld’s smaller star ships provided solid grounding for his duties. He applied himself with a dedication matching that of the crew and his fellow officers. He completed each watch in a state of near exhaustion after conducting drill after drill, only to be faced with hours of study. He enjoyed the discipline and the camaraderie, both on and off watch, and quickly established his reputation as an intelligent and conscientious junior officer.

He was also learning about the star ship;
Ziangka
was currently conducting a shakedown cruise as newcomers melded with more experienced crew. Steg enjoyed his introduction to life on board and struggled daily with the temptation to explore computer and communication facilities that could provide him with news from Homeworld. The barrier preventing him making an exploratory step was the knowledge that such activity would constitute a breach of the captain’s specific direction. He curbed the temptation ruthlessly and continued with his duties.

Striker star ships were ancient technology—their origin was at least pre-Diatonic, possibly prior to the Terzon Mechanical Age. That timeline meant existing strikers were well over two thousand years old. Over the centuries the Empire had lost the wealth, the inclination, the knowledge and the industrial structure necessary to build striker warships. Instead, its focus now was their operation and maintenance. Older ships had fallen out of service; their state of disrepair well beyond the curative effects of routine maintenance and the Fleet was experiencing a gradual decline in the number of functional striker-class warships.

Ziangka
was a destroyer displacing just over one hundred thousand tons, a well-maintained example of a smaller striker-class star ship. Its striker design and power meant it could pierce space-time folds, enabling rapid star travel without use of nexus transit points. The power requirement for fold penetration and navigation was well beyond smaller star ships, and had been described to Steg as the equivalent of the power generated by a T-type planet’s thunderstorms accumulated over a standard year, and packaged into one piercing lance of focused antimatter.

The destroyer was a bristling ball of firepower armed with missiles and grasers, an effective and deadly instrument of war. She carried numerous small craft within her huge boat bay; these included cutters, gigs, shuttles, fighters, landing craft, skimmers, and open surface gigs.

The star ship mustered only twelve hundred officers and ratings, with a complement of Marines. Steg had heard that representatives of the elite Special Forces also were on board; their existence, training, and duties were well embellished by rumor and myth.

His routine was disturbed early one morning when Tziksis burst into the small wardroom Steg shared with two other lieutenants. The alien’s rush of excitement was betrayed by the frenzied bobbing of his eyestalks. Tziksis ignored the other two occupants of the room and addressed Steg. “Master youth officer sir.” The little alien attempted a formal salute.

“Oh Tziksis, I have told you before saluting is not necessary.”

“News, oh youth, news is. Warship has special orders, just received.” Somehow Tziksis had organized a most effective unofficial grapevine, stated by some of the officers to be the most efficient communication system ever established on
Ziangka
. “Most important action is.”

“Action?” Three voices spoke almost as one as the occupants of the wardroom sat up, alert and interested to hear the details. Tziksis enjoyed the increase in his audience.