Previously: “How did you get on our ship?” Estelle gave Zella a cutting glare, arms folded over her chest.
“I helped load your crates and didn’t get off. I hid a crate that was about my weight station-side at Antrim. Then I got myself in behind your cargo and between the ship’s ribs so that I wouldn’t get smashed if things shifted.”
“Weren’t you worried about the lack of environmentals?”
“I was when I realized that this ship doesn’t have an interior cargo hatch,” Zella admitted as she turned her attention back to Herc. “That reminds me. I patched your hole. The whistling of the venting atmo was driving me crazy.”
She pulled a tube of quick patch from one of the pockets of her overalls and handed it to Herc. He beamed at her and talked hull patching for a bit while Hetty went back to feeling like yesterday’s news on her own ship. Estelle grabbed her arm and pulled her out of earshot a little further down the corridor.
“She could be a spy or something,” Estelle warned.
A clank sounded as Herc dropped the decking in place, followed by a laugh from him and a giggle from their unexpected guest.
“Could be,” Hetty agreed. “But I don’t think Herc will ever forgive us if we space her, and he’s the best pilot we’ve ever found. What harm can she do between here and Wexford station?”
Estelle grimaced. “She patched the hull and re-balanced the cargo and did who knows what else down there while we were all unawares. It’s a miracle that she didn’t pass out from the cold and lack of oxygen.”
“She has a rebreather. Lots of dock workers carry them,” Herc explained as he joined them. “I sent her to the commons to clean up and get some food.”
“Oh, we’re feeding her now? Where’s she going to sleep?”
“Stel,” Herc gave her a look of grave disappointment and a hefty sigh. “We have an extra cabin.”
“That we do,” Hetty agreed. “You two get us back en route to Wexford Station while I get our ‘guest’ settled in.”
Zella was exactly where she should be in the commons, eating ration soup from a squeeze tube.
“You could have had some regular meal plan,” Hetty said as she settled on the other side of the common’s tiny table.
“I didn’t want to impose any more than I already have. Besides, I’m used to this stuff. It’s about all I’ve been eating since the GU took over Antrim VII.”
“You’ve been on the run from the GU’s conscription for more than half a year?” Hetty raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”
“No.” Zella turned the empty soup tube over in her hands, her eyes focused on the crumpled label. “The GU claims that they honor human rights treaties and such, but really when they capture a planet, they strip it of anything of worth. People, minerals, cellulose. Everything goes to power their war machine. The UPA wasn’t great, but it was better than that when they were in charge of Antrim VII.”
“I see.”
A disquiet Hetty couldn’t afford was creeping up the back of her neck. A free trader couldn’t make a clean living selling to only one side. Forthright wasn’t interested in running contraband or drugs or slaves. There had been rumors– there were always rumors about this or that atrocity committed by the GU or even sometimes the UPA. But this was a whole new scale of atrocity.
On the three-day trip back to Wexford Station, Zella’s story continued to unfold. Dead parents. Disappeared siblings. Her family farm was reduced to bare soil by the GU’s cellulose harvesters. Long hours as a barely paid dockworker on the space station.
And then the conscription rate tripled. Soldier dockworkers didn’t have to be paid, after all. They got room, board, and uniforms. All the squeeze tubes you could eat.
“And then, praise the Holy Mother, I ended up with you.”
Zella’s adoring gaze landed on Herc again and he beamed. Just out of their sight lines, Estelle pretended to wretch and Hetty had to fight to keep a straight face. Herc had already been campaigning to keep the girl, but what would they do with a dock worker?
To her credit, Zella had cleaned every square centimeter of the ship and was talking about doing the exterior when they dry-docked at Wexford. She was also quite handy with minor repairs, so she wouldn’t be a total black hole on the ships’ finances. Maybe she could be their cargo master?
But besides the admiring glances and soft words thrown Herc’s way, Zella hadn’t asked to stay. Not yet. Half a day out, Hetty was ready to give in and inquire. But half a day out from Wexford, the tide of war changed all.
“Cap. UPA dreadnought Sylvester Stallone hailing us.”
“Stel. How exciting! A dreadnought hailing little old us?” Hetty’s grin died when Estelle gave an uncharacteristic gasp of terror.
“They want us to hot dock with them. Full search and maybe seizure if we’re found to be harboring GU personnel.”
“Put me on the line.” Hetty ignored Herc’s hangnail chewing and muttering as she waited for Estelle to establish the connection on the ship’s intercom.
“I repeat ship registered as Forthright, prepared to be grappled and docked.” The UPA feed crackled to life, startling them all.
“This is Captain Hetty Gaines of the free trader Forthright. No can do, Sylvester Stallone. Forthright doesn’t have hot-docking capabilities. You’ll have to set up a docking tube.”
“Understood, Forthright. Prepare for grapple.”
“No can do, Sylvester Stallone. Please send docking coordinates for my pilot.”
After some more tense negotiations, Forthright and Sylvester Stallone reached a compromise. Herc would maneuver Forthright as close as possible to the Stallone’s hot dock, and then the Stallone would deploy its grapples and a temporary docking tube.
Some hours later after Herc finessed the Forthright into place and the tube was sealed and tested, Hetty marched over to visit with fleet Admiral Thornton. Alone. Stel had kicked up a fuss, but Forthright was under strict orders to rip off the tub and make a run for it if Hetty wasn’t back in an hour. Hetty was betting all their lives on the fact that the Sylvester Stallone would have to turn to fire on them with their big guns, given the location of the hot dock.
Admiral Thornton was a woman a little older than Hetty with dark hair going to steel and eyes to match. The admiral’s aide ushered Hetty into a chair next to the admiral’s workstation and brought them both coffee.
“Very sorry for my crew’s enthusiasm upon hailing you. We weren’t expecting any non-military traffic in this region. Since the UPA just took control of Wexford Station a few days ago, most of the free traders have cleared out of the area.”
“Wexford was an independent station before the GU came,” Hetty observed.
“Captain Gaines. I can’t speak for Upper Command, but allow me to assure you that if there is any way to allow Wexford its autonomy after the war is ended, I will do everything in my power to make that so.” Thorton took a deep swig of her coffee. “Forgive me. I’ve been up for about thirty hours at this point.”
“Me too.” Hetty drank a little more cautiously of the steaming brew and screwed her nerves up tight. “So, what can we do for you, Admiral?”
“We’re on our way to a full-on assault of Antrim VII. If we can push the GU off of Antrim VII, the last of their supply lines will be broken and the war will be over in fact if not on paper.”
“The GU Triumphant is over there. Antrim VII is not undefended.”
“And you come by this information in what way?” The admiral set her cup down, eyes hardening again.
“They absconded with my cargo that was meant for Wexford station.”
“I see.” For a second, the Admiral’s shoulders sagged. Then she straightened in her seat. “I’m confident that we can hold our own. I suggest you fly on to Wexford Station, even without your cargo. You’ll be safe there for the duration.”
Stel was going to kill her. Herc too, if they lived through this. Zella would be on her side, though. A draw. Captain’s choice.
“I believe, Admiral, that Forthright could be of service to you. Do you have any mini-mines? We could lay quite an ambush for Triumphant. A heavily loaded merchant ship in distress would be tasty bait.”
Afterward, they named Hetty a Hero of Antrim VII. The whole crew got medals, and the pay was awesome. Herc and Zella went on a glorious honeymoon with their share of the proceeds before signing on with Hetty again as pilot and cargo master.
Estelle bought the farm. Literally, not figuratively. Antrim VII had quite a bit of vacant land to be reclaimed. Being accosted by two warships in one trip followed by joining in military action was not what Stel had signed on for. She was, she claimed, getting older and ready to settle down.
Hetty would forever maintain that Forthright had joined the siege of Antrim VII on a lark because Forthright didn’t have anything better to do and needed a big payout to counter their GU pilfered cargo. Also, she wanted to get back her bolts of red silk. But maybe, just maybe, she did it for Zella. And all the other Zellas living under the heel of a regime that cared for nothing but power.
Maybe Captain Hetty Gaines helped the war be over just a little sooner.
