Loyalty to the Cause (TCOTU, Book 4) (This Corner of the Universe) (6 page)

“She
departs in less than six hours,” Selvaggio noted.  “That doesn’t give us much
time.”

“There
aren’t exactly a lot of sights to see on this station anyway,” Vernay said. 
“Chief, I’m pinging your datapad and telling Jack not to book us rooms.  Diane,
can you rush down to receiving and tell Gables to skip storage and find a
grav-pallet for our bags?”

“Why
bother?” Selvaggio asked.

Brown
smiled.  “Cuz we’ll need the clothes, L-T, especially when we’re runnin’ fer the
Commonwealth.  Gonna be terrible with so many people aboard.”  He shook his
head.  “Life support an’ hygiene’s gonna be a real concern if we’re not
careful.  I just hope that somewhere down the line, the owners of Hussy
retrofitted her with some sonic showers.”

“Oh,
I hadn’t thought of that,” Selvaggio replied humbly.  “Guess I’m not used to
thinking about that kind of thing.”

Brown
nodded in support and offered, “It was never your job, ma’am.  We just need to
make sure you know how to use her Phot0-Sail.”  A concerned look swept over
Brown.  “You have actually sailed before, right, ma’am?”

Selvaggio
bit her lip before answering.  “Just virtual sails.”  She pointed down at
Vernay’s datapad.  “That type doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It’s
a light sail, Diane,” Vernay informed.  “Can you operate it?”

“Um,
sure,” Selvaggio said as she shrugged.  “How hard can it be?  Plus, we’ll be
using the Allison drives in the beginning.”

Worried
expressions passed between Vernay and Brown before Selvaggio added, “Don’t
worry, guys.  I can do it.”  She nodded to herself before saying with a smile, “Besides,
this thing will come with an owner’s manual, right?”

“Diane,”
Vernay said, “go meet up with Denise and Jack.  The chief and I will press
forward and meet you all outside the station’s observation lounge.”

Selvaggio
gave Vernay a quick “thumbs up” and bounded down the hall toward the lift.

“It’ll
be fine,” Brown told himself.

“She’s a natural
navigator,” Vernay added.  After several moments, she finally said, “Let’s go
make some friends.”

*  *  *

The door
to Orbital Administration slid open and a confident Lieutenant Vernay strode
through the room like she owned it.  She deftly pointed toward the gaping petty
officer third class sitting behind a desk and ordered, “I need your section
commander and a connection with the planet-side commander
now
, mister.” 
Chief Brown, armed with the multi-rifle from
Kite
, marched stoically
behind his lieutenant.

Vernay’s
stern expression launched the petty officer into action.  He called his office
manager and then began to create a communications connection with the main
naval base on Baradis.  Moments later, a confused ensign stumbled into the
office from a side door.

“M-may
I help you?” the ensign stuttered as he looked between the diminutive officer
and the large, armed enlisted man.

Vernay
ignored the ensign and commanded, “Send that connection through to the ensign’s
office, Petty Officer—,” she glanced at the man’s nametag, “—Monroe.”  Vernay’s
eyes darted to the dumbfounded ensign.  “You.  Meeting in your office.  Now.” 
Without waiting, Vernay marched toward the door the ensign had used.

Inside
the office, Vernay, Brown and Ensign Franks faced the wall screen holding the
image of a full lieutenant.  “You are the planet-side commander, I assume,”
Vernay began without preamble while seating herself comfortably in a chair
behind the ensign’s desk.

“Yes,”
answered the image on the wall screen, “I’m Lieutenant Owens.  What is the
meaning of this?  Who are you?”

“Lieutenant
Owens,” Vernay said arrogantly, “you may address me as Lieutenant Vernay.  What
I am about to say will
not
be repeated.  Official records will show Stacy
Vernay as the first officer of the command cruiser, Crusader.  The reality is
that I am a very pissed off deep cover internal security agent who has been
pulled off her assignment to run down this goat-rope of a mission.”  Vernay
tapped her datapad.  “I’m flashing my orders to you now.  You’ll forgive the redactions;
consider yourself lucky that I’m sending you anything at all.”

Vernay
watched the man look down at his datapad.  Her stomach tightened as she saw
twists of confusion manifest over his face.  She watched his hands move over
his datapad as he entered commands.  The “orders” she had sent him were the
orders sent by Brewer to Heskan, assigning him to the Parasite think tank. 
They had been carefully edited and redacted to make them nearly unreadable. 
The only “official” parts of the forged orders were some command codes and
assignment entries used by Internal Security when transferring personnel to
different jobs.

The
planet-side commander began to shake his head.  “I can’t make heads or tails of
this, ma’am.”  He entered more commands into his datapad and finally looked up
to his wall screen.  “So much of the orders have been edited out that I can’t
understand them.  The change of station and status codes follow I.S. protocol,
although I don’t have access to actually see what those codes mean.”

Vernay
nodded impatiently.  “That’s kind of the purpose, Lieutenant.”  The tone of her
voice was pure annoyance.  “Tell you what, you go through I.S. indoc training,
then through tech school and the prelims and then get your clearance and I’ll
give you the entire orders unencoded.”  She bit down hard and finished her
thoughts through clenched teeth.  “But until then, you either support my
mission or place yourself under arrest for failing to properly support the
Republic.”

Hands
of surrender shot up from Lieutenant Owens.  “Ma’am, I’m just saying I can’t
confirm your orders.  Nobody is saying we won’t support you.”  When Vernay
softened her expression, the lieutenant continued.  “What exactly do you need
from us anyway?”

Vernay
still bit down, not out of false frustration but to prevent her nearly
overwhelming feelings of relief from giving up the game.  “You have a pirate
vessel docked on your orbital, Owens.”

Confusion
once again cast over Owens, followed by quick glances exchanged between the
lieutenant and ensign. 
Uh-oh
, Vernay thought. 
What’s going on?

“Um,
ma’am,” Owens started hesitantly, “that’s not exactly a secret.  The Roberts
Clan pays us each month.  How would Internal Security not know this?”

Vernay’s
stomach plummeted at the lieutenant’s implications. 
Pay us each month?  The
local government knows about this? 
Rage filled Vernay and she struggled to
keep tight control over her expression.  “Of course this is common knowledge,
Owens.  You think I’d reveal classified material to two junior officers I’d
just met?”  She shook her head and swallowed hard.  “What I am telling you is
that this particular pirate ship is no longer under the Republic’s umbrella of
protection.”

Lieutenant
Owens nodded in understanding.  “Oh, I see now.  Which ship are we talking
about, ma’am?”

“CSV
Hussy.”

The
man brought a nervous finger up to his mouth before pulling it away.  “Not to
question I.S., ma’am, but are you sure?  I know they paid when they docked. 
Could your information be wrong?”

Inspiration
struck Vernay and her voice took on a dark edge.  “This isn’t about payment,
Owens.  My orders are to commandeer that freighter and take her back to
Skathi.  There are gentlemen in a facility there that would very much enjoy a
conversation with one of her crew.”

Owens
swallowed hard at the insinuation.  “Understood.  How can I assist you?”

“We’re
I.S.,” Vernay stated unpleasantly.  “We don’t need your help.  All we need is
for you, your personnel and your system defense ships to stay out of our way no
matter what messages of distress may come from that freighter.  Hussy was never
in-system and we never had this conversation.”

More
nods ushered forth from the lieutenant.  “Yes, ma’am.  I’ll send private instructions
to all my ship captains.  Ensign Franks, whatever Lieutenant… um, Vernay,
wants, she gets.  Understood?”

“Yes,
sir,” the ensign croaked.

“Well done,” Vernay
complimented weakly.  “We won’t speak to each other again, Lieutenant.  Vernay
out.”  She disconnected the communications signal before turning to the very
pale ensign now standing a meter from her.  “Ensign, I want four base security
personnel to stand watch in the docking bay to Hussy.”  She paused and then
added, “How many multi-rifles does the station armory have?”

*  *  *

Diane
Selvaggio shifted her attention away from the Phot0-Sail operating instructions
on her datapad to the rapidly approaching pair.  “Did they buy it?”

Vernay
smiled.  “I think so.”

“She
did great,” Brown proclaimed.  He then smiled deviously and added, “L-T, I
think you could go really far as an overbearin’, egotistical I.S. agent.”

Vernay
laughed but then sobered quickly.  “Yeah, I can’t believe how quickly people
are to cow-tow to Internal Security.”  She thought about her own submissiveness
during her brief encounters with Agent Jennings and Secretary Brewer and felt
heat rising in her cheeks.  “Guess I can’t blame them.”

Oblivious
to her internal musings, Truesworth stated, “I can.  If people had the guts to
speak truth to power, maybe we wouldn’t be in the position we are now.”

“It’s
not always that easy, Jack,” Vernay commented feebly, “but I can’t say I
disagree.  Where are the rest of us?”

Truesworth
pointed down the narrow corridor to a restaurant and started leading Vernay in
that direction.  “The pilots are eating at the Moon Crater Café.  I gave the chief’s
datapad to Gables and have her watching the departure boards, just in case.”

“Smart
thinking, Jack.  We’re set to storm the target in a little over an hour.  We’ll
have four orbital security-police with us.  We can turn Hussy’s crew over to
them, although we have to keep the captain on board to maintain the charade.  I
told the station commander to hold the crew until a second team of I.S. agents
picks them up.”

“What
will we do with the freighter captain, Stacy?” Selvaggio asked.

“I’m
not sure.  Lock him in a cabin, I suppose.  Our story falls apart if we let him
go in a lifeboat at the tunnel point so we have to take him with us.”

“It’ll
be fine, L-T,” Brown assured.  “Let’s just concentrate on takin’ the ship
without mishap.”

Vernay
nodded wholeheartedly. “We went over the plan during our trip here but let’s
get over to that café and talk through it one last time now that we know which
ship.”  A thought struck her.  “Where’s the grav-pallet, Jack?”

“It’s
with Denise.  She’s probably using it to sit on.  Everyone’s changed into duty
uniforms like you asked.  We’re as ready as we can be, Stacy.  Relax.”

Selvaggio’s
datapad chirped, followed by the excited voice of Denise Gables.  “Diane!  Have
Lieutenant Vernay and the chief come back yet?  Hussy is casting off!”

Vernay’s
party stopped in unison.  “What?” she yelled as she tore at Selvaggio’s
datapad.  Vernay watched relief flood over Gables when the young ensign saw
her.

“Ma’am,
the departure board just changed.  It says she’s leaving.”

“Sum
‘bitch,” Brown growled.  “They got tipped off, L-T.”

“Denise,”
Vernay commanded as she broke into a run, “get yourself and the grav-pallet
over to the docking bay.  We’ll get the pilots and meet you there.”  She ended
the transmission before Gables could respond.  While handing the datapad back
to Selvaggio, Vernay looked at Truesworth and said, “Looks like the pilots
won’t get a chance to eat, Jack.”

Truesworth
shrugged dismissively.  “That’s okay.  I hear the food in the Moon Crater Café is
fine but the place has no atmosphere.”

“Thank
God you’re here,” Gables said with deep relief.  She had positioned herself
partly in the docking bay and partly in the docking tube.

Vernay
looked past her and, to her own relief, saw the docking tube was still attached
to
Hussy
. 

Gables
gestured to the empty watchman’s station close to her.  “There was a guy there
but as soon as I pulled up, he took off down the tube and into the ship.  That
was about three minutes ago.  The tube portal started closing so I blocked it. 
I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to open it if they locked it and I don’t think
they can cut their moorings with this side of the docking tube unsecured.”

“Good
move, Gabes,” Vernay praised.  “Chief, get the multi-rifle out of the duffle
ba—”

The
unmistakable sound of Brown charging his multi-rifle echoed through the small
bay.  “We waitin’ fer the station police, L-T?”

Vernay
shook her head.  “No, who knows if they are even coming.”  She looked at the
twenty-one souls around her.  Most had wide eyes and apprehensive expressions. 
She took several deep breaths before saying, “Okay, everyone, relax.  It’s just
a standard inspection as far as they know.  Once we get in, we collect the
ship’s captain and take him to the galley.  Just stay calm and look official.”