Solbidyum Wars 3: Pirates of Goo'waddle Canals (18 page)

“I have one,” a male voice responded from the end of room.  “What about the crewmembers on the freighter.  What are their conditions and status?”

“Typically on a Ruwallie Rasson-operated freighter, the crewmembers are not slaves.  Occasionally one may be, if they are unable to find a free man for the position and they have a slave that they can trust to serve the function.  Usually such a position would be something support-related, like bookkeeper or supply master.  The crew is in a partnership with the Ruwallie Rasson, who is always the captain.  Each receives a percentage of the profits for each run they make, and the captain usually receives 50 to 60% of the profits after expenses have been deducted; the crew splits the remaining 40 to 50% into shares based on their skill level and value to the trade operation.

“On most ships, the crewmembers have their own cabins or, in some circumstances, a few may share a cabin with another crewmate operating on an opposite shift.  Accommodations will not be as luxurious as here on the
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, but they won’t be bad.  All food will come from the synthesizer. When off-ship, all crewmembers will wear side arms.  When we’re planetside, you will be expected to act like the crew of a trader ship.  In other words, you will frequent the bars, act tough, and look like you are drinking too much, while also keeping your eyes and ears open for anything that might give us a clue as to where the solbidyum is or how to find Logden.”

“
Alright then,” I said, “if there are no more questions, we are done here.  Anyone wishing to volunteer for this mission must submit their request to be considered by end of day tomorrow.”

I watched the crew as they left.  I could see that many were talking to their friends; and it was easy to tell by the expressions on their faces that they were saying “No way,” were they going to volunteer for the mission.  But several others appeared to be deep in thought, and it was from their number that I hoped at least enough qualified candidates would volunteer to make a presentable troupe for the mission.

I had barely arrived at my study when Kala came in.  “Tib, I’m going with you.  I don’t care about the risks.  I already have a nasty scar on my back and getting a few bruises — well, it’s not like I don’t get those sparring in martial arts practice.”

“Kala, I knew you would be the first one through the door.  I won’t lie to you.  I don’t want you on this mission; but I do know that you are better qualified than any other woman on the ship, and it wouldn’t be right for me to ask another woman to go on this mission and not allow you to do so.”

Kala grinned.  “Good.  Then I won’t have to fight you on this issue.”

Just then, there was a signal that someone else was at the door.  I activated the door from my desk and was not surprised to see Marranalis enter. 

“Sign me up, Tib.  With my bulk, I suspect I would make a good slave candidate, and I have more than a few combat scars.  I think I can at least present as a believable-looking slave.”

I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder, reaching a good deal higher than my own shoulders to do so because of his tremendous size.

“Marranalis, if I’m going to be a slave, there is no one I would want as a fellow slave more than you.”

“I’m not so sure if that’s a compliment or not,” Marranalis beamed, “but I’m going to take it as one.”

It was another hour before the next volunteer showed up.  It was one of the Nibarians who came aboard as FSO trainees after we met with Senator Tonclin at Nibaria.  Like all the other Nibarians, he was short and stocky and had skin that resembled gnarled tree bark.  His eyes appeared to be sunken into his head more than those of other Nibarians I had seen — either that or his forehead protruded more than that of others — I couldn’t be sure.  In keeping with the traits of his race, he had a high-pitched voice, but it was mellower, with less timber in it than most of his kind.

“Greetings, Honorable First Citizen Tibby.  I am Norkoda.  I would like to volunteer to pose as one of the freighter crewmembers for the trader operation.  I have served as a ship’s engineer on
Nibarian freighters for many years and have even been to the planet Goo’Waddle on several occasions, so I am familiar with customs there.  I would be honored if permitted to serve the role on this mission, and I believe I can be of particular assistance.”

“Norkoda, it’s a pleasure to meet you.  You are one of the trainees with Commander Wabussie’s FSO team, are you not?”

“Yes, that is correct.  I look at this mission not only as an opportunity serve the Federation, but also as an intelligence gathering prospect and an opportunity to learn more about covert operations.  The Federation will be needing operatives outside of the Federation territories, and I think I would ultimately like to serve in that capacity.  This is a chance to test my ability to function effectively in that role.”

“The final decision as to who will be going on this mission hasn’t been made yet, but you certainly present as a strong and likely candidate.  I will let you know my decision tomorrow.”

While I was adverse to the idea of using members of the Federation military for any mission where their involvement might cause problems if their affiliation was uncovered, in Norkoda’s case I had no qualms, since the agency he worked for wasn’t even known within the Federation, let alone outside of it.

Late in the afternoon Commander Sokaia appeared in my study.

“Tibby, I want to volunteer for the mission as one of the female slaves.  I know Kala already has volunteered and I believe that two strong women fighters give this mission the best opportunity for success.”

“You put me in a tight spot, Sokaia.  On one hand, I totally agree with you.  But this mission needs to go off looking like it’s not a Federation operation; so if something goes wrong, our actions don’t trigger a war between the Federation and non-Federation worlds.  Right now, I am really pushing it, as both Kala and Marranalis are still technically military.  Since they are assigned to me by the military, it’s possible that a claim could be made for their acting outside the scope of the Federation’s authority.  Norkoda also presents a problem, as he, too, is ultimately associated with the Federation as part of the FSO.  But since the FSO doesn’t exist officially, it would be difficult to make him out to be a Federation operative.  You, on the other hand, are a Lieutenant Commander serving as the head of the Federation’s Special Operations team.  While that team is only recently formed, it is now officially recognized as a branch of the Federation military.  I don’t know how we could explain that one away if something went awry.”

“I understand, Tibby, and I talked to Wabussie about it before I came to you.  He believes that the admiral will concede to dummying up my files to indicate that I was dismissed from the Federation military for misconduct dating back to the operation when the TEZU LAGONG ambush was laid for you.  The file would be in place if something goes wrong.  If we succeed, the original file will be reinstated and no one will ever know anything happened.  Both the admiral and Commander Wabussie feel I would be an asset to your operation and that it would provide me with additional experience that I can pass on to my troopers.”

“You present a good argument, but I’m still not sure.”

“One more thing.  You said you needed people with scars, and they are few among women in most of the Federation because of the cosmetic capabilities of the med units.  Kala only has one scar, and while you might be able to convince the Ruwallie Rasson that she is a new slave, especially if she is bruised up, if neither of the women have any serious scars, it’s not going to be convincing.”

While she talked, Sokaia began to remove the top of her uniform.  Had I been back on Earth, this action would have seemed totally inappropriate and out of line, but in the Federation,
where the views and attitudes about nudity were much different, it was not something that anyone would question.

“As you can see, I have quite a few scars,” she continued as she held her top in her hand at her side.”  She turned around to reveal several long marks that ran down the length of her back and a scar on the back of the upper left arm that I had never noticed before, as it was always covered by her uniform sleeves.

“Yes, you certainly do.  May I ask how you got them and why you haven’t had them removed?”

“I was involved in a Federation mission on one of the newer Federation worlds.  We were trying to quell a rebel uprising and I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.  I was caught in a bomb blast.  I was lying on the ground at the time; the blast detonated behind me.  Shrapnel from the blast raked across my back, leaving me with the scars you see now.  We were trapped on the surface for three weeks before a ship was able to get to us and extricate me from the rubble and get me to a med unit.  By then, many of my wounds were nearly healed.  I could have had reconstructive surgery; but I figured, why bother?  As a career trooper, I most likely would get more scars before I left the service anyway, so I opted to keep them for the time being.  I figured once out of the service, I would maybe undergo a procedure to have them all removed at one time.  I don’t think you will find any women on this ship with more convincing scars.”

“You’re probably right, there,” I responded, “but let me talk to Commander Wabussie before I give you my final decision.”

A few hours later I dined with Kala, Kerabac, Commander Wabussie, and Marranalis. As we were finishing up our meal, a young man approached me.  I was somewhat taken back by his age, as he didn’t appear to be much more than twenty years old.  He stood about 1.7 meters and was rather thin – almost to the point of being gangly.  His complexion was pale and a lock of jet back hair hung down over one of his blue eyes. 

“Honored First Citizen Tibby, I would like to volunteer for your mission.”

My first instinct was to say No way, but then a thought hit me.  If I didn’t believe he was qualified for this mission, what would the likelihood be of anyone else suspecting him of being a spy on a mission?

“And you are?” I queried.

“Ahh…Padaran, sir.”

“I don’t believe I have seen you before.  What are your qualifications and what position do you serve on the
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?”

“I’m a ship’s engineer in training, sir,” he said with some pride.

I looked at Kerabac.  As Captain of the
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, he and Stonbersa were the only ones who hired crew for maintaining and operating the ship’s equipment.  I could see Kerabac contemplating something, but he didn’t speak up.

“Padaran, would you mind stepping outside for a moment while I confer with my crew?”

“Ah…certainly, sir,” he said eagerly and he turned and stepped outside the dining area.

“
Alright, Kerabac, who is he and when did we start having trainees on our crew?”

Kerabac smiled. “Let me answer the last question first.  While we have been hiring experienced people, we also have been hiring and training new people since day one — not only for your security forces, but for every discipline in the crew.  About the only ones on the ship who haven’t required training of some sort are Commodore Stonbersa and Piesew.”

“He’s got a point there, Tib,” Kala said.

“OK, but just where did he come from?  He looks like he is barely out of school.”

Kerabac chewed on his lip and I noticed that Wabussie was squirming in his chair.  “You know something about this, Commander?”  Wabussie looked startled at my query.

“Ah, yes, I have some knowledge of it.”

“Would someone care to inform me?” I glared at Kerabac.

Kerabac adjusted himself in his chair and quietly said, “He’s Admiral Regeny’s nephew.”

“WHAT?!” I exploded.  “When did this happen, and why wasn’t I informed?”

“Hold on, Tibby, let me explain.  The kid didn’t pass the physical standards of height/weight ratio requirements for the military.  The kid wanted to get in, but couldn’t.  Regeny suggested he see if he could sign on the crew with the
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and get some training with us because, as the admiral put it, ‘the training on the
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is better than anything you will get with the Federation.’  He thought that while serving here, he could benefit from the martial arts training available to all the crew, in addition to the engineering apprentice training.  With some hard work and a bit of beefing up in the gym for a year or two, the admiral was certain that he would not only be a prime candidate for the Federation military, but may even present as a good candidate for the Special Ops unit.”

“How long has he been here?”

“A few months.”

“How is he doing?”

“Surprisingly well.  I’ve talked to the people in engineering and they say he is a natural.”

“How’s he doing with the martial arts?  Marranalis, do you know anything about him?”

“Honestly, Tibby, I have seen him on the ship and I have seen him working out in the gym.  He actually looked pretty good, but since I have been concentrating my energies with our security team, I haven’t given him a lot of attention.”

I tugged on my chin as ideas began formulating in my mind.

“Tib, you aren’t seriously thinking about accepting him for this mission, are you?” Kala asked.