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Authors: Erik Martin Willén

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BOOK: NASTRAGULL: Pirates
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"Could it be faked?" the Lady demanded.

"I do not think so, milady, not easily. It is holo-embedded into the crystal itself, and that could have been done only when it was recrystallized for transport." He looked up at Alec suddenly. "Where did you get this?"

"I told you. We were captured by the same pirates who captured the
C-5
. We stole a ship when we escaped -- belonged to a nasty piece of work named Zuzack. Among other things, there were ten kilos of your crystal-silver in the cargo hold. No idea what happened to the rest. The pirates still have it, I guess."

Lady Fuzza swallowed hard. "We would like to recover it. But our hands are tied. Of course, we must follow both galactic and intergalactic law regulating these things—"

Captain Zlo cut her off. "I don't think those laws apply out here, especially not if the Key Administrators are involved." He slammed a fist hard into the wall. "When the Empire and the federations hear of this, they will send their fleets to crush these villains."

"And that will benefit you how?" Alec asked. "I admit that it might bring some satisfaction for you personally, but will it compensate you financially?" He looked at the Marengans. "On the other hand, if you join my friend and I, you might achieve both personal satisfaction
and
financial enrichment."

Behl said, "Captain, we need you and your crew to serve as officers. Mr. Horn and I will recruit security personnel for any actions we undertake. All you need to do is run the old girl while we do the fighting." He offered his hand to his Marengan opposite.

"If I decide to join you," Zlo said cautiously, "And I said
if
, I personally will be involved in whatever happens, no matter the danger." He clasped Behl's forearm, and Behl reciprocated. He glanced at Alec, who nodded firmly.

"I would like to join also," Lady Fuzza said stiffly, "but unlike Captain Zlo, I have no military background and I'm far too old. However, I am no coward, and would help you in any way I can."

"Perhaps," Alec said slowly, "you should return to Marengo and alert the proper authorities as to what's happening here. This needs to be shut down as soon as possible. And perhaps you could have them deliver us a letter of commission, to make things legal."

Lady Fuzza grinned suddenly.
"You don't need a letter of commission; under intergalactic law, you have the right to pursue the pirates for one year after the attack. However, you must offer physical evidence, and I doubt your word alone is proof enough. Though the crystal-silver might be."

"Or not," Behl put in. "They might think
we're
the pirates. And we haven't got the time to clear everything up legally."

Alec looked at him grimly. "I think I have an out. It's considered an act of war for any armed force to engage in hostilities against a member of any Elite clan owing allegiance to the Nastasturus Federation. In the event a senior official becomes witness to such hostilities in the first person, then that official has the duty and responsibility, in the interests of the Federation, to take immediate action and report to the proper authorities." Alec finished with a laugh while the others looked at him, perplexed. "Besides, I might have some evidence that will interest your Emperor." He winked at Behl and said, "Ha, see there, you old bastard? I did learn a thing or two in school."

Lady Fuzza looked at him doubtfully. "So, you are from Nastasturus? And you are one of their senior officials?"

Behl laughed. "You're damn right he is. Believe it or not, the little shit is a brevet general, and the moment he was attacked he became an official general officer in the armed forces of Nastasturus. Bet that bastard Zuzack didn't know that."

Again, there was silence. Zlo finally asked, "Are you Lord Hornet, the boy general who ended the seven-year conflict on Casaba last year?"

Alec didn't answer. He stood turned slightly away, his hands behind his back, gazing out the viewport. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Behl answered for him. "In person," he said proudly. When Alec cocked a bemused eyebrow in his direction, the captain grinned and said, "Didn't take too much brain-sweat to get from 'Horn' to 'Hornet,' son." To the Marengans he pointed out, "He also managed to escape from the notorious pirate Zuzack the Cannibal himself—after he flayed off the bastard's face for him. Not to mention the fact that he  rescued and saved my life along the way."

Alec turned around and looked the two Marengans in the eyes, one after the other. "Do we have an accord?"

Captain Zlo walked up to Alec and grasped forearms with him, and a moment later, the Lady did the same. In unison, they said, "We do."

"Then let's go to work, shall we?"

"May I say something first?" asked Zlo. "It is a tradition on Marengo that whenever a new bond is made, no matter what the reason or with whom, we make a toast in blood to strengthen that bond. We then share a first supper together, which I believe is especially apropos here, especially what lies ahead. Are you game?"

Alec looked at the small prick on his right thumb, which stung a bit. He rubbed it and considered the unusual ceremony that he, Behl, Lady Fuzza and Captain Zlo had finished earlier. The blood ceremony itself was a minor formality, in which the participants had a small needle inserted into a finger and trickled a little blood into a wine bowl, which all of them drank from after all had contributed. That hadn't been particularly appetizing, but the dinner that followed had been fabulous. Both Alec and Behl were amazed at the high quality of the food from the
K-13
's galley.

Alec had guessed that Lady Fuzza wanted to demonstrate the nature of the ship's services, and if that were the case, it had been an effective demonstration indeed. He glanced at Lady Fuzza from the corner of his eye as she walked next to him, with the natural grace of a queen, down New Frontier's endless corridors. During the last few hours, they had bonded and gotten to
know each other quite well as they toured the recesses of the ship that he hadn't already seen, while Behl and Captain Zlo went over the engines and weapons systems centimeter by centimeter.

At the moment Alec and the Lady were headed towards a holding area for chattel offered up for sale by the local slave traders. Lady Fuzza seemed as serene as ever, but Alec was somewhat apprehensive about what they might find.   They were escorted by two of Lady Fuzza's security personal, Pier and Wolf—Omans dressed, like all of the K-13's crew, in dark blue coveralls and black boots. The weapons holsters on the black leather belts were empty, as weapons were not allowed inside the station proper. Both men were quiet and deadly-looking, with scarred, weather-beaten faces, evidence of hard action in the past.

Alec thought,
A smart soldier has no scars
, something that they'd taught him at the Academy. He wasn't sure about the validity of the statement, though he'd been forced to argue for it in more than one paper. Eying Pier and Wolf, he rather thought that neither of them would have agreed with him. Like the other security personnel Captain Zlo had hired, they were former career military who had decided, as  so many soldiers did, that they'd rather work security than retire among civilians. Alec suspected they loved their work more than the paycheck they got from it, and they'd already made it clear to him that they had no compunctions about taking on the pirates they'd be chasing.

In fact, the entire security team had all enthusiastically and without hesitation jumped at the chance to hunt pirates when the idea was presented to them, and Alec rather thought that most of them would happily do it for more than the one year he had proposed. Most of the other crew felt similarly.

"A minor question," Alec said suddenly.

"What?" Lady Fuzza asked.

"What's the name of this station?"

"Most of us just call it New Frontier, dear, but I think its official name is New Frontier 16. Not very imaginative, I realize, but adequately descriptive. I believe there are about two hundred similar stations co-owned by the Federated Merchants and the Commercial Traders, and I think there are over a thousand more that are owned individually by one or the other. And of course, there are all the neutral ones."

They continued their journey through the massive space station, followed closely by Pier and Wolf, who had decided to glare like mad at anyone crossing their path. They left behind a trail of bewildered and upset people, but no one dared accost them.

 

 

Chapter 20

 

The 185 capital ships of the Nastasturus Federation's 11
th
Galactic Fleet—and all its thousands of frigates, cruisers, and supply vessels—were in the process of forming up at the sector's primary jumpgate, an exercise that took many hours. Meanwhile, several thousand sleek androids were busily deploying large metallic spheres around the event horizon of the stripped-down black hole, in order to increase the size of the opening and thus enable the entire fleet to go through at once. That was ultimately safer, and would use less energy, but it took time.

Admiral Hadrian Cook af Hornet stood on the main bridge of his flagship,
Unity 1
, observing the construction at the jumpgate. "Magnify Section A-10," he grunted, and a section of the image jumped into view and clarified, showing several androids moving away from one of the spheres, which was now glowing Cherenkov blue.

"Looks like the gate will be ready within minutes, Admiral," said a younger man as he stepped up beside Cook. He wore a Lieutenant Admiral's stars on his epaulets.

"Indeed, Mr. Busch. And how goes the deployment?"

"All ships are in place and report ready, sir."

"Excellent. Once the androids have returned to their respective ships, you may order the fleet to advance."

"Aye aye, sir."

Less than an hour later, the fleet moved with lethal purpose into the enormously-expanded jumpgate. Once the last ship had entered, the hundreds of metallic orbs that had expanded it followed, allowing the gate to shrink back to its normal size.

The fleet emerged thousands of light years away, on the edge of the sector where the
Bright Star
, the
C-5
, and scores of other ships had recently disappeared. Once they arrived, they scooped up the dozens of probes that had been launched through the gate earlier to test the waters and warn of any danger. None of them had found a thing.

Admiral Cook reclined in his command chair, reviewing reports and making notes on a clipcomp. Eventually he handed the pad to a waiting lieutenant, who saluted and quickly carried the pad back to the Intel section, a massive room divided into quadrants where hundreds of busy officers manned instruments and computer consoles. Once the lieutenant was gone, Lt. Admiral Busch swung his chair around and raised it to the same level as Admiral Cook's. "You sure about this?" Busch asked, as he glanced from his own clipcomp to his commanding officer.

Cook looked at him and replied, "I am. I believe it can speed up our search." Busch nodded, and allowed his seat to return to its original position, on the command deck below Cook's. He finished up at his station and, after saying farewell to Cook, turned to leave the bridge, followed by several officers.

Before he could reach the hatch, Cook called, "And Mr. Busch, remember: if you make contact with the enemy, do not engage until I arrive with the main column."

Busch nodded and saluted smartly. As he turned to walk away, Cook said quietly, "Good hunting, son."

Busch left Cook standing alone before a large window, as he and his entourage hurried down to the docking bay where his personal shuttle waited to take him to his own flagship,
Endeavor 4
.

Soon thereafter, Cook intoned into the battle communication system, "Stand by for split. I repeat, stand by for split. Second Battle Group, First Section will alter course per standing orders. When you receive the new coordinates and orders, execute when ready. I will join you and assume command later."

On
Endeavor 4
, Busch leaned back in his seat after relaying the order, and gazed at a computer screen as the 25 ships of his section altered course and proceeded perpendicular to the main fleet. He muttered quietly, "I still don't like this, sir. It seems unwise to divide our forces before we know what might lie ahead of us."

Cook listened attentively to his old friend's advice as it was relayed through his earbug, smiling faintly. "Trust me on this one, Alistair. I think it's better we use the Second for acting point. We wouldn't want to scare anyone we might run into."

"You're the boss," Busch answered, obviously unconvinced.

Cook smiled, but made sure none of his amusement was audible in his voice. "After we translate through the next jumpgate we'll be very close to the last reported location of the
Bright Star
. Make sure you launch several scouts, and have your ships group in a defensive position. I'll wait here with the rest of the column."

From the earbug came Busch's voice, "Hadrian, I
have
done this before, you know. By the way, what's on tonight's dinner menu?"

The twenty-five capital cruisers slipped silently through space, visible only by the way they occluded the distant stars, and plunged into the jumpgate before them. When they emerged from the other side, they dispersed in different directions and began scanning nearby space. One of the larger cruisers, the
StarRay
7
, moved immediately to the last reported position of the
Bright Star
and launched four smaller destroyer-class ships to investigate. Each of the destroyers, in turn, launched a pair of frigates, which darted into space with a lethal grace, like hounds intent upon finding their prey. Meanwhile, the other capital ships launched hundreds of probes and drones of their own.

BOOK: NASTRAGULL: Pirates
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