toothy grin. “I have battle scars.”
“Ohmigosh,” she snorted.
She was a creature of emotional extremes. It might have been one of the reasons why he liked her, since two of his sisters were the same. As much as he wanted to spend time getting to know her a little better, the sight of the Clever Dream’s main debarkation ramp lowering reminded him that they were in the middle of a crisis. “First round’s on you when we manage to find a port tavern.” He said as he walked past her.
“Can’t wait to deliver on that,” she replied.
Jason was right on his heels. “This is like watching a star liner crash in slow motion. There’s enough firepower to vaporize the ship four times over pointed at us, and those armed transports haven’t even opened their inner airlock doors yet so we don’t know what kind of force they’re about to put on our deck,” Jason whispered irritably. “Any ideas cross your mind?”
Oz stopped a few meters away from the bottom of the Clever Dream’s debarkation ramp and watched Ayan, who was dressed in vacsuit with no extra armour. She wasn’t even carrying a sidearm, but her stoic expression and forceful march was enough to inform everyone who saw her that she was there with a purpose. Fourteen Triton troops in the heaviest armour available followed her in a double column.
“Someone was listening during the psyche portion of Officer Candidate Training,” Jason muttered.
“Your wife is waiting for you inside,” Ayan told Jason. “She’s missed you.”
“It’s mutual. I’m going to copy the data from the destroyer into the Clever Dream’s computer just in case. I’ll be watching from there.” Jason nodded and headed inside.
“I hope things are going better down there.”
Ayan gave him a warning glance that told him everything he needed to know about the conditions of their destination. It was so quick, and so close that only someone watching a close up on a surveillance feed would have caught it. “I’m just glad to see you safe and sound. Had some trouble staying that way though,” she plucked at one of the thinner parts of his vacsuit, where it had patched itself after he caught a round in the stomach.
“It’s been a hard ride.” Oz couldn’t help but notice that one of the guards in the middle of the group had a Spectral Dynamics Violator handgun in his holster, the favoured weapon of Jacob Valance. Other than that, there was no way to tell him apart.
“Have you met the locals?”
“I’ think we’re about to. You probably know more about this government than I do at this point, I think I’ll follow your lead.” He gestured towards the broad rear airlocks at the rear of the hangar. They were finally all open, and several military crew people were emerging. They wore grey and light blue uniforms, of an older style, but it was plain to see that they had a protective lining built in that would serve just as well as any basic vacsuit.
“Then fall in, Commander.” Ayan said with a crooked smile.
He fell in with the rest of the security detail beside Jacob, who gestured for him to pass into the middle of the detail. He was surrounded by guards.
At first the glances and stares that greeted Ayan were tinged with smiles, but there must have been something in Ayan’s expression that conveyed the seriousness of her purpose. Oz only wished he could see it. “Who is the commanding officer here?” She asked clearly and calmly. She had the attitude of someone who didn’t have to yell, didn’t have to demand, but expected that all her questions would be answered.
“I’m Fleet Warden Kimberly Harrison,” a woman with short cropped blonde hair said. She was thin and tall. “And you are?”
“Ayan, Commander of the Triton, Clever Dream and owner of a privateering fleet currently surrounding this ship. Why have you demanded that my people abandon ship?”
“Ownership of the Triton is being contested by a former Captain. He claims that it was pirated a short time ago. Do you have a warrant or order to repossess that could counter the claim?”
“Produce the accuser and I may consider your charge valid,” Ayan retorted casually.
The Fleet Warden turned towards the airlock behind her and nodded. One of her men shouted; “Captain, you’ve been requested.”
Oz watched the dark, plush interior of the armed transport over Ayan’s shoulder. He could hear someone walking slowly down the aisle towards the airlock opening. First came the Freeground style, dark military boots. It was said that Freeground combat boots were made so well that when a pair of structural engineers were struck full on by a solar flash, they were identified by the serial numbers on their soles. The hem of a dark imitation trench runner’s long coat followed. It was made in the style of the type old Earth infantry once wore during an almost forgotten war. It was made to deflect most projectiles of the day, and to serve as a blanket during long nights in the post nuclear war trenches.
Oz’s stomach tightened in a knot, and he made a conscious decision that was counter to his greatest desire. A silent step placed him at the side of the man who was carrying a Violator handgun. He recognized Lucious Wheeler at the sight of his jaw line and, just like he’d seen in footage of Jacob Valance’s bounty hunting days, Oz made sure his hand was pressing down on the hilt of the other man’s sidearm before Jake could draw.
He beat him by a split second, and when Jake’s blackened visor, adorned with the blood red skull mark of the Triton boarding team, looked at him, his heart jumped. In that moment he was grateful he couldn’t see Jacob Valance’s bare face.
Ayan was more composed, and cleared her throat loudly. She couldn’t keep her eyebrows clear of a scowl, but the rest of her face was surprisingly passive. “Secure arms,” she said flatly.
“You wouldn’t want to kill a Carthan asset, now would you?” Lucious Wheeler said as he stopped at the inner door of the airlock. “Ayan, I see you’ve made some changes. Too bad you’ve lost your figure. Any chance I’ll get to meet your better half? I see his First Officer here, he can’t be far off.”
Flushing involuntarily from the barb, Ayan ignored Wheeler entirely. “Fleet Warden, this man is not to be trusted. He was an ally of Vindyne, a subsidiary of Regent Galactic. He’s also not the original Lucious Wheeler, who was killed aboard. If the original Lucious Wheeler were here, I’d advise that you arrest him, because he stole this ship from the Sol Defence fleet. He has no claim to this ship, whereas the Aucharian government recognized the Triton as a war time capture and registered it under Jacob Valance. He then made myself and Terry Ozark McPatrick Commanders under him. In his absence, legal ownership in the nearest sector falls to us.”
“I’m afraid that’s not something that will be decided here, Commander Rice.”
“They know all about all my associations, darlin’. I’ve traded my way to their side, and Triton’s a part of that sweet deal, so it’s time to hand over the command codes.”
“Making this personal won’t help anyone Wheeler,” chastised Fleet Warden Harrison. “I’m afraid he’s right, however. I’m here to take possession, and I’ll need the command codes.”
Ayan looked her straight in the eye. “Never,” she said so quietly that Oz had to strain to hear her. “You can remove us from this ship, but you’ll never get the command codes. You’ll also be rushing hundreds of people from their homes aboard this ship, people who are armed, and will be painfully aware that the Carthan government traded their home in a dirty deal with the enemy. We don’t have room for them all on the ground, and they’ll rally. They’ll gather around someone who doesn’t hesitate when it comes to fighting a corrupt government.”
“You mean Jonas Valent,” Wheeler interjected.
“I’ve never met a man by that name on this ship,” she enunciated coldly.
“You’re not getting this ship for free, either.” Her attention focused on the Fleet Warden, whose eyes had narrowed, and jaw had set. “If you’re forcing us to abandon Triton, it’s going to cost you dearly. That is, unless you’re willing to do the intelligent thing and turn this stray out. Whatever information he’s offering you is tainted, I’m certain of it.”
“The Defence Minister himself brokered this deal, Commander… Ayan. Your people are going to have to leave within the time allotted or we will use force.”
The pair locked eyes for a long moment. Oz watched them closely, keeping Wheeler, whose smile was fading slowly, in his peripheral. Jake had relaxed, and Oz let go of the man’s sidearm, trusting that his long time friend would let Ayan handle the situation.
“We’ll leave peacefully, consider it a gift. I’ll expect you to offer us a fair trade for Triton’s value.”
“Without command codes.”
“With consideration to the hardship you are forcing on her crew, the civilians we were protecting and our passengers. You’ll compensate us or we’ll take whatever I decide is fair value for this ship using other methods.”
