The Captain smiled wickedly and said, “You will not be harmed if you cooperate fully with us. Stay here. An officer will be here soon to take charge of you. You will be transported to our nearest base on this ship. Your repatriation will be arranged there.”
Captain Mabry motioned Thorson to follow her out of the salon. A guard positioned himself in the doorway as they left.
“Thorson, I want you to take charge of this ship and get it to Barataria unharmed. Our take for this prize will be better than 100,000 credits for the ship, plus whatever the ladies fetch. If their family won’t buy them, we can find lots of useful things for them to do. I’ll take the two pilots with me and leave you with three Ascetics. We’ll follow some distance behind you. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find another ship along the way.”
Thorson went to his cabin and packed a minimum of gear for the two-week trip. The luxury transport could probably provide him with anything else he’d need. He checked with the Captain, before departing to take command of the prize crew. She had nothing more for him. He held at the airlock as the two pilots and the majority of the boarding party left. The Ascetic Deacon, Third Class met him at the airlock and reported.
“Sir, we have searched and scanned the ship. There are no weapons on board, except ours. The three women, you, and my team are all that are on board. The ship is provisioned for over a month. With your permission, we will berth in the co-pilot’s cabin. It has two beds. I recommend you take the captain’s cabin. It’s quite spacious and outfitted with a master computer terminal and comms.”
“The three women are in cabins off the main salon. One of us will guard the entrance to the salon at all times. There is no other entrance. We will keep them in the salon and their rooms unless you authorize otherwise.”
Thorson was impressed with the young deacon’s professionalism. He approved his recommendations and moved his gear into the captain’s cabin. He looked around for a few minutes, and then moved to the bridge.
Thorson fired up the main command console and called the Undefeated to check comms. He got a good comms check and continued to familiarize himself with the controls. Everything was automated, so he would have no trouble piloting the ship to Barataria.
He spent a few minutes locking out all ship’s controls, external view, and comms from every ship’s terminal except the one on the bridge and one in his cabin, and set a voice imprint pass code into the system for the deacon and himself. He cued up the ship’s internal monitor system and verified all heat sources on the ship. The deacon was correct. All life signs were accounted for on the ship. No weapons were on board, with the exception of some knives in the galley.
He received a message from the Undefeated, to head for Barataria. He moved the ship clear of the asteroid field, plugged in the course, and engaged the FTL engines.
Thorson activated the sensors to warn of any approaching ships and walked to the main salon. The Ascetic Acolyte, First Class moved out of his way as he entered. The two daughters were talking on a couch, but the mother was nowhere in sight. The daughters looked up with apprehension in their eyes.
Their mother came back into the room, saw him, and said, “So, you are the one that has charge of us?”
“Yes, my name is Thorson. I will be your captain for the trip to our base. If you cooperate fully, no harm will come to you or your daughters.”
Mrs. Debran assured him they would be no trouble and invited him to dine with them that evening. He knew he would get no better offer and accepted.
James Norman was uncharacteristically nervous. He was normally always prepared, always calm. He was the perfect man described in the old saying, one who could keep his head while all around him lost theirs. He was pretty sure he was about to lose his head.
Norman was the head of security for Friedrich Debran, of Debran Industries, and he had bad news to relay to his boss. Friedrich Debran was not known for suffering fools lightly and James felt like a fool. He had arranged for four escort ships to accompany Mrs. Debran and her two daughters from Aldebaran to Rigel Station for the Haute Couture Fashion Week. Evidently, the Debran women were informed one of the fashion house’s shows had been moved up on the schedule, and left without their escorts.
Somewhere between there and here their ship disappeared. As soon as he heard of their departure, he dispatched the escorts to follow their flight path and catch up with them. They cruised all the way to Rigel Station and could find no evidence of the Debran luxury transport. Enquiries at all space stations and spaceports along their flight path were checked, to no avail.
Norman now had to inform his boss. He had ”handled” people that had displeased this man so he knew full well what he could expect. He wondered which of his operatives would be assigned to “handle” him.
James Norman paced in Friedrich Debran’s anteroom, until the door opened and Debran’s secretary waved him in. Mr. Debran sat behind his enormous walnut desk. His Chief of Staff, Roger Delphant, sat in one of the side chairs. Norman walked forward until he was three feet away and centered on the desk, the customary position when briefing the boss.
Norman started as soon as Mr. Debran looked up, “Mr. Debran, I’m afraid I have some bad news to tell you.”
Debran’s expression didn’t change. “What is it, James?”
Thankfully, his voice didn’t waiver as he laid out the initial details. “Sir, your wife and daughters’ ship left Aldebaran’s Roper Executive Spaceport at 1137, our time, yesterday, on course for Rigel Station. Although they were aware I had arranged for a four-ship escort, they left without it. Upon learning of their departure without the escort, I dispatched the escorts to pursue and overtake. Although the escorts departed only 30 minutes behind their ship, the escorts were unable to make contact with them. The escorts arrived at Rigel Station, informed me of the situation, and I ordered them back along the flight path to conduct a sector search. The escorts have searched all the way to Aldebaran and have found no trace of the ship.”
“We have queried every spaceport and station from Aldebaran to beyond Rigel and their ship has not put in. No distress calls have been received. No wreckage has been found. I currently have the escorts making an additional series of wide sweeps along their projected path.”
“Sir, I have contacted law enforcement and military authorities at Aldebaran, Rigel, and the Fleet. They are coordinating with our escorts so more territory is being searched. Approximately 25 ships are currently involved in the search.”
“I have to conclude, sir, from the total disappearance of the ship and the lack of a distress beacon or debris, that your wife and daughters have been captured by the Marauder Fleet. If so, the chances are good to excellent that you will receive a ransom demand within ten days and have them returned unharmed within ten days of a ransom payment.”
Throughout the presentation, Mr. Debran sat stoically, calmly hearing all Norman had to present. He was so calm that Norman was made more and more nervous. At the end of his briefing, Norman’s voice was wavering slightly. He stood and waited for Mr. Debran’s reaction.
“So, my wife and those two slattern daughters of hers chose to leave without their escort. That is so typical of them, so irresponsible. Of course, you should have anticipated that, James.”
Mr. Debran looked briefly at a pocket terminal on the desk, typed in a short message, and looked back up at Norman.
“James, you’re fired. I’ll give you eight hours to clear out your things and be off Rigel Prime. If you are found on Rigel Prime after eight hours…Let’s just say you’d best not be here.”
The outer door opened and Norman’s deputy was shown in.
“Ah, Kurt, is it?” The man nodded. “Kurt, Mr. Norman no longer works here. You will escort him to his office to let him gather his personal things. He is to take nothing else. He is to use no terminals or communicators while on the premises. See that he is off the premises in thirty minutes. Recover and secure all company property, security badges, computer files, communicators, what have you. Come back here to see me once you have completed this task.”
“Yes, Mr. Debran.”
A devastated James Norman was led out. After the door closed, Mr. Debran turned to his chief of staff.
“Roger, get in touch with those people we used when we had that trouble with the asteroid miners. I have some work for them. I also want the word put out that Mr. Norman’s work has displeased me. I don’t think he is suited for work in the security field. He should find some other line of work. One other thing; the Fleet has to be
