“I’m telling you again, Captain Barnes. This is a General Union authorized free-trader hauling from Antrim VII to Wexford Station. Wexford Station is still a GU station, is it not?” Hetty paused and took her measure of the unyielding GU captain. “Or has the General Union lost territory in the last standard week since we flew out?” Her taunt didn’t stir him.
“No ma’am. Wexford Station is, as always, under General Union control. That’s of no concern to you at this moment, however. You will surrender your cargo at once. I have need of it.”
Captain Barnes of the General Union warship Triumphant gave his crew detachment a hand signal. The little group of ensigns slid out of the temporary docking tube and then sidled past Hetty, Estelle, and Herc.
The ensigns had to flatten against the wall to get past Hetty, but the second and third members of her own little phalanx in this standoff gave way. In truth, nobody on Forthright wanted to risk the GU folk getting techy and blasting them or, gods forbid, a hole in Forthright’s hull.
Thirty seconds later, one of the GU crew reappeared. “Where’s the hatch to the cargo hold?”
Captain Barnes’ glare locked on to Hetty again. She refused to answer or to look away first. Behind her, Herc gave a martyred sigh.
“There is no interior cargo hatch. It’s outside. Portside, aft section,” Herc explained to the GU ensign.
Hetty returned the other captain’s glare with interest. “You’ll have to attach another docking tube if you want my cargo that bad.”
“Rip up the decking until you get through.”
“Captain Barnes! I protest this wanton damage to my ship.”
“Captain Gaines. Feel free to file any complaints up my chain of command. We do what is necessary. You agree to these terms when you enter General Union space.”
“Search and seizure only applies to contraband, Captain Barnes.”
“Or necessary supplies during emergencies. War is and always will be an emergency. That will be all, Captain Gaines.”
Behind her, Estelle let out a hiss of distress. Barnes might think he could dismiss Hetty as though she were a subordinate in his command. Hetty stood fast. If Barnes wanted free of her company, he could leave her ship. After a few more moments of attempted stare-down, Barnes threw her a careless salute and retreated down the temporary docking tube back to Triumphant and the security of his own command.
Behind them, someone cursed as a piece of decking clattered in the corridor. The illuminated deck markers flickered, and Estelle joined the cursing.
“I’ll handle it, Stel.” Herc marched down the corridor. “Hey, you numbskulls. Not that panel. Two back. Much less likely to knock out the environmental system. You’ll die along with us if you murder our life support.”
Estelle’s gaze followed Herc’s broad back until he was out of sight, then she stepped up to Hetty and gave her a quick hug. “You okay?”
“As okay as a captain can be when disrespected in her own ship.”
Estelle’s warm brown eyes were sympathetic as yet more clanking sounded from the aft corridor. All too soon, the Triumphant’s ensigns were scurrying by with her boxes of cargo. It was mostly shelf-stable foodstuffs, but a few bolts of organic cotton and silk as well.
“What’s Triumphant going to do, get into the ladies’ dressmaking market?” Herc yelled after the ensign retreating with three bolts of red silk.
“Hey!” Hetty yelled. The ensign froze halfway down the docking tube. “Tell your captain that I’m putting his name on my invoice on the signature line for goods received.”
The ensign hunched up his shoulders and hurried on. Hetty slammed her interior airlock shut, not trusting Triumphant to signal her before uncoupling the temporary docking tube. A moment later, the unmistakable sound of the tube unclamping rang through Forthright’s Hull.
“Bastards,” Estelle said, not looking up from her job of patching a large slice on Herc’s palm.
“You okay to fly? That looks painful.” Hetty peered over Estelle’s shoulder at the pilot’s wound.
“Yeah. But we’re not going anywhere until we rewire some stuff that got pulled loose. And we need to reattach that decking. You know how we haven’t got round to fixing that microhole in the cargo hold because we rarely fly cargo that needs atmo? Well, guess where all our cabin atmo is going right now?” Herc grimaced as Estelle finished daubing at his cut and sprayed his palm with sealant.
It was Hetty’s turn to curse as the three of them hurried down the aft corridor to button things up. Just as Hetty was about to kill the lights in the cargo hold, she heard the scrape of boots on deck plate and the sniffle of a cold nose. For shelf shelf-stable products, there was no need to keep the heating or cooling on in the cargo hold. The hold would be cold and getting colder for whoever was still down there.
“Triumphant seems to have forgotten an ensign.”
“I’ll go clean out any rats,” Herc offered.
“Let me,” Estelle countered. “We just reconnected all that stuff. I’m small enough to slide by without ripping it out again.”
“Stel. Be careful.” Hetty put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want the lights on?”
Estelle shoved her night vision monocle onto her eye. “Nope.” Her hand found Hetty’s for an all too brief moment, then she slithered through the cabling and down into the cargo hold.
In the moments when Hetty could bear to lift her gaze from the hole in the decking, she found Herc chewing hangnails, equally engrossed. Even if they did round up and capture some stray GU ensign, what then? Call Triumphant and tell Captain Barnes to come back and fetch his abandoned crew member? Shouldn’t Triumphant be calling Forthright already, inquiring about her missing crew?
Though Hetty had to admit that keeping tabs on a warship’s crew of a couple hundred was different than her keeping tabs on three people counting herself, she still couldn’t believe that Barnes would misplace or abandon someone. In this dust-up between the General Union and the United Planetary Authority, neither side had a clear enough advantage to be in a position to waste supplies or personnel.
Especially they couldn’t afford to waste personnel if the reports of what both sides were doing to the settlements were true. There weren’t plenty more ensigns wherever this one came from. Even galactic-sized corporations couldn’t conscript the dead. At least not with their current level of tech. Yet another thing best not thought of. A thumping from below distracted her from this horrible contemplation.
“Ow! I’m sorry! Let go!” A musical young female voice whined.
“Get up there. Now!” an aggrieved Stel ordered.
“I’m going. I’m going. Stop hitting me.”
“Stel?” Hetty called down.
“Give her a hand, will you? She’s too short to crawl out on her own.” Estelle’s dirt-streaked brown face peered up through the cabling for a moment and then vanished again. “Don’t you dare wreck anything we just fixed. You slide through like hot butter, you hear me?”
An impossibly young, impossibly beautiful face peered up at Hetty from below the deck. Hetty leaned forward and reached out her hands, but Hercules slid in front of her. On a bent knee, he leaned forward, tenderly offering support.
Fine. Herc was younger and stronger. Let him rescue the fair maiden in distress before the fire-breathing Estelle singed her from behind.
In the harsh light of the aft corridor, their guest looked less tragically young but no less beautiful. Herc gawked at her, wide-eyed, leaving Hetty the job of helping Estelle through the cabling and back to safety.
“You’re no GU ensign,” Herc said in a breathy rumble. He did a self-conscious swipe of his bald head with one greasy hand. “Where did you come from?”
“Antrim VII. I’m so sorry, captain. The GU was trying to conscript me and I had nowhere to go to get away from them.” Limpid eyes peered up into Hercs for a brief second before fluttering away, skimming over Hetty and Estelle. Herc blushed beet red as Hetty threw him an ironic glance over the stowaway’s shoulder.
“Beg pardon, ma’am. This is Captain Hetty Gaines, captain of Forthright. Second in command, Estelle Garza. I’m Hercules Mandrapilias, pilot.”
To her credit, the woman pivoted to face Hetty without pause. “Captain Gaines. I am Zella Sideris. I was just a dock worker on Antrim VII. I have a few GU credits and some funds in UPA credits. I can pay for passage to UPA territory.”
“Well, that would be fine. If you hadn’t got onboard my ship without permission. If we were going to UPA territory. We’re headed to Wexford station. Since it would be a waste of atmo to space you, you can stay onboard until then.”
“How did you get on our ship?” Estelle gave Zella a cutting glare, arms folded over her chest.
To be continued next week!
