Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (11 page)

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

Natyasha sighed and shifted her feet. She glanced over at a linear indicator. They were nearly three quarters of the way and the car was decelerating, or at least that’s what the display told her. She couldn’t feel a thing beyond nice level gravity. She sniffed and exhaled through her mouth. Core was gone.

The victory felt hollow. She had one of her greatest goals, but something was missing. They wouldn’t just leave, they couldn’t. There was too much tied up. In some cases the operators simply turned off the equipment and walked away. The corporate write-off must be staggering, she thought. Already she knew her people were moving in and claiming what they could. That part felt good, but there was no vindication, no explanation, just corporate control leaving.

The elevator came to a stop and the door opened to a wide expanse. Inside the length of docking station extended past a hundred meters. The space was silent, empty, barren. Only the hum of the reactor and the harmonics of the cable betrayed any life at all.

Natyasha stepped out and turned to see Bark waiting. “Well?”

“They’re on contract,” Bark said.

“Contract? What’s that mean? To Core? To us? The UC?”

Bark took a short quick breath. “I don’t know.”

Natyasha walked past Bark and shook her head. “Are your people here?”

“They’re here.”

“Do they know?”

“I don’t think so,” Bark said.

Natyasha nodded and walked through a bulkhead to a second docking area. The emptiness felt odd to her, it always felt so alive in the docking station.

Three dozen men and women stood in dark gray body armor. Beyond them lay a hallway with a frosty patch of hull at the end. The armor plate of the hull was a dull orange with streaks of moisture weeping through the frost.

“Did they come out?”

Bark shook her head. “They inquired about provisioning, said they were waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Natyasha snapped.

Bark kept her face impassive and followed.

Natyasha grasped a heavy comm panel and turned it to face her. She poked at the comm key and waited for it to acknowledge. She didn’t have time for this bullshit. “Put the Captain on.”

A dull click was followed by a level tone.

“This is Mustafa, this is my ship,” a thick slow voice replied.

“Mustafa what?” Natyasha asked.

“Just Mustafa. Are you here about provisions?”

“Open the goddamn door. I’m not talking to this,” Natyasha said as she slammed down the comm panel.

Bark shifted and mumbled something into her mic. The pair waited.

A thin line cracked in the frost and moisture broke through. The airlock slid open. Inside stood a man with a coal black mustache. Behind him the opposite airlock was sealed. He smiled politely. He looked to Bark and Natyasha, the smile never leaving his face. “And you are?”

Natyasha ignored him. “What do you want? Who do you work for? Core?”

The man licked his lips and peered down the hallway. “I am Mustafa, I’m not going to deal with someone whose name I do not know. It is not polite.” His fingers drifted up and itched one ear, a slight shimmer of a nanite patch glistened in the light of the airlock.

“Natyasha Dousman.”

“Can I call you Naty?” Mustafa asked.

“I don’t fucking think so. Now who is your employer?”

Mustafa shifted and looked down the hallway again. “How many people are waiting over there?”

“Enough,” Bark said.

Mustafa nodded. “The
Gallipoli
is armed, you know.”

Natyasha saw the tone change subtly. It was a negotiation at its most basic level. Lay out what you’ve got and let’s see the hand. Time was not on her side. “What’s your contract?”

Mustafa turned his head slightly and ran his tongue along his lips. “Passage.”

“Terms?”

“Three months with an option.”

Natyasha nodded. “Bond?”

Mustafa shook his head slowly.

“Would you like one?” Natyasha asked.

Mustafa looked between the two and leaned away. He looked down the hallway once more. He laughed, and it sounded like a cough.

Natyasha could feel it. There it was, laid on the line. The man was weighing his options. “Rhenium, platinum, maybe a bit of good old fashioned gold. A nice bond, yes?”

Mustafa’s eyes focused on Natyasha and he held her gaze. “That would be nice,” he said slowly.

Natyasha wanted to smile. “We’ll pack it up and store it here. All yours. once the term is completed.” She turned to Bark. “Ms. Bark, arrange it, please, two hundred kilos of each?”

“Three,” Mustafa added.

Natyasha held her hands up in mock defeat. “Done.”

Mustafa smiled and relaxed his pose.

“Who do you work for?”

“Emilie Rome.”

The name meant nothing to Natyasha, but it sounded familiar. “Who is she?”

“She owns the Core assets here.”

Natyasha was caught silent. Anyone who could purchase the industrial assets of an entire system could be a valuable ally. “Where is she?”

“On the UC ship inspecting assets.”

“Capabilities?” Natyasha asked as she looked at the hull.

“Enough.”

“Enough for what? A picnic?”

Mustafa chuckled and ran his fingers through his mustache. “Enough to handle anything in the system, troopship, even that cruiser.”

“Cruiser?” Natyasha asked as she looked at Bark.

“The one the UC is headed for.”

Bark shrugged and spoke quietly into her mic. “The UC Ambassador doesn’t know.”

I bet he doesn’t, Natyasha thought. But I bet he knows more than we think, she thought.

Departure alarms sounded through the halls. It was a steady tone followed by shrill beeps. Then silence once again.

“That’d be the Core transport, yes?” Mustafa asked.

Natyasha ran through her options, she didn’t trust the Ambassador but at the same time didn’t particularly trust the UC either. Were they really leaving? It sure seemed that way, and the UC Ambassador had left on the ship. She weighed waiting for the Captain of the UC ship or taking matters into her own hands. Time enough, she liked control. “Mustafa, it’s a fighting war now, isn’t it?”

“Seems to be, yes.”

Natyasha clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I like options. Having a Hun cruiser floating overhead hampers my options. Having a troopship dock up restricts my choices.” She let it hang for a moment and watched Mustafa. “And having the UC on my back creates problems as well.”

Mustafa rubbed his chin. “The rate went up.”

Natyasha smiled. Her eyes sparkled in the bright light of the boarding bay. She liked this, that moment where new plans merged past old ones. The course had changed. But to still leave some options opens. “I’m not burning any bridges here. Let the Core transport out, even cover them if need be. Then see what happens with the Hun and the UC. Depending on the end game take ‘em out.”

“The troopship?” Mustafa asked.

“Leave them be for now, we can handle that—can’t we, Ms. Bark?”

Bark smiled a thin, professional smile and said nothing.

“Now go, keep in touch,” Natyasha said as she turned and walked away.

Bark nodded to Mustafa in a moment of professional recognition before turning and following. Mustafa leaned back with his hands in his pockets and smiled.

Natyasha heard the airlock cycle behind her and saw Mustafa walking through. She didn’t trust him, but he was going to be very useful. He gave her deniability across all fronts. If he succeeded, well, all the better. And if he didn’t, then she was still sitting ahead of where she was. “Interesting times, Ms. Bark, interesting times.”

T
he display was a dance of vectors that pulsed through the unending pull of gravity. Lines were laid, paths were set, and now only time split the opponents. The Hun cruiser approached and took a wide arc to blink onto the edge of a barren planet. The troopship skirted the other direction and fled in system.

William saw the chess pieces and mapped it out. If he went after the troopship the Hun cruiser could maul him from behind. He’d get it, there was no doubt, but they’d get him. Instead he nudged the display and laid a course out for the barren planet. Winterthur Seven.

“Why don’t they give them names? Winterthur Seven, kind of lame,” Bryce asked himself.

“Cuz they weren’t born on Haven, sunshine,” Shay replied as she laid out the nav program.

William took a moment to leave the bridge and stretch his legs. He nodded to Grgur and passed through to zero-g. The shift to zero gravity and back to full gravity made his stomach turn. Though it always did.

He looked in on his crew and smiled and nodded to each. A moment to connect, say hello, not lay out the expectations, but to just communicate. They knew the expectations, there was no doubt. He once regretted not making that walk, so he made time for it.

Huron was laying on his back in the middle of the small crew commons area. His eyes were closed and a slight smile was on his face. The room had taken on the smell of garlic. Not a touch of garlic, not a spill, but an all out garlic assault. Huron appeared to be sucking it in and enjoying it.

William smiled and leaned against the bulkhead. He’d always found the Martian-born engineer quirky. “Huron, maintenance time?”

Huron’s smile grew wider. His eyes stayed closed. “Ahh, Captain. Just stretching out, my quarters are a bit tight. It’s a luxury to have a moment here.”

“We ready?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t be lying on the floor if we weren’t.”

William nodded. “Of course,” he replied with a light laugh. “How’s she gonna do?” he asked in a more serious tone.

Huron sighed and the smile dropped. “She’ll hold up. Or should at least. It’s a good design for what it’s for.”

William knew what it was for: war. Nothing but. His hand slid along the wall and rubbed against one of the welded sections. Memories slid back, harsh memories like gritty snow. It would disassemble, to prevent anyone from taking it. He wondered how it would happen. If the welds popped, vacuum would surge in and everything would fall apart. Could suit up, he thought.

The moment drifted away and he put the thought of disintegration behind him. Already he’d violated his orders and was about to engage a Hun cruiser. No use worrying about the ship coming apart.

“Does the Hun cruiser look any different?”

William shook his head. “They make ‘em ugly. Maybe even uglier than this,” he said as he looked to the raw asteroid wall. “Doesn’t appear they made a technological shift like the Sa’Ami.”

Huron let out a sigh of relief. The engineer sat himself up. “How long?”

“Another hour or so, we’ll open it up early and keep ‘em guessing. They’ll hold range if I had to bet.”

Huron looked surprised. “You? A betting man?”

William laughed and felt a bit of tension wash away. “I’ve had a good run, no use ruining it with a bet, eh?”

Huron nodded and stood. “Works for me! If you lose a bet, we lose a ship, not a prospect I like.”

A hissing sound burst out from behind of a narrow wall. The smell of garlic billowed after a moment later. A shuffling sound of steel on steel pushed in behind it.

“Hello Igor. What’s for dinner?” William asked, knowing the answer, but felt hungry anyway.

Igor’s thick head popped around the edge of the small galley and grinned at William. “Garlic!” he said excitedly. “Beautiful ,beautiful garlic, Captain.”

“Make a good ship name,” Huron mumbled.

“Garlic?”

Huron shrugged. “Earth plant, but spread through the stars and to almost every colony. A bit of poetry to that, eh?”

William liked it. There was a subtle poetry, a slight nod to heritage on both sides of the debate. It also beat the damned numeric indicator they’d left with. It was hard to inspire a crew and talk about
S245998
. “Sounds good, Mr. Huron.”

The smell of garlic grew stiffer in the room, as if Igor wanted to christen the hull.

William returned to the bridge and took his seat. “Go get a bite to eat, you two. Igor is cooking.”

“Yes sir,” Bryce said quickly and left.

Shay stood and stretched. “Nav’s laid out, Captain, Bryce put in a weapons program, but this pig handles most of it herself. Wonder why we’re here sometimes eh?”

“I wonder the same thing. I’ll check the programs, now go get some more garlic. Oh, that reminds me.” He pressed the shipwide intercom button and waited for the tone to finish. “This ship is no longer named the
S245998
. It is now to be called the
Garlic
.”

Shay looked at William like he was crazy and laughed as she walked off the bridge.

His eyes returned to the display before him and he saw about what he expected. The Hun cruiser was coming in. The last blink had it headed to the barren planet. It could have changed, they weren’t close enough to get a visual yet. The Core transport was moving out of the system with Mustafa’s corvette running a screen on the side. The
Grouper
, his friend in agony, was still docked. Mustafa surprised him, he expected the corvette to hang close to the planet.

He laid out the nav plot and played out the course. Statistical bands shifted away from the course of the Hun cruiser. But he wouldn’t know for sure until they blinked, were lit up with an energy source, or came close enough for a scan.

The smell of garlic preceded Bryce by a moment. “Captain? Do they know we’re here?”

William nodded. “Yes, once we blinked they could read the signature from the Haydn and guess on our mass.”

Bryce nodded and concentrated as he chewed the side of his cheek. “So we’re gonna look pretty small—correct, Captain?”

William smiled at Bryce. He could see where his thought train was going, but didn’t want to stop it. “Go on.”

“So they think we’re smaller than we really are for the guns we mount.”

“Go on.”

“So when they do get close enough...”

“It’ll be too late,” Shay said, sliding into her chair.

A look of recognition spread on Bryce’s face, followed by a smile. “Oh hell yeah.”

William felt the burning and itching on the palm of his augmetic hand. The feeling always came when he was excited, or maybe the adrenaline triggered it. “Let’s blink and get this dance going.”