13 Degrees of Separation (88 page)

“I see,” Wendy murmured. She shook herself slightly. “Well,
we thank you for your time good sir.”

“Happy to help if it's for the admiral. He deserved better.
Hell, I don't know why he's giving this stuff to Pyrax, they treated him like
crap. But he's got a good heart, I can see that.”

“Yes sir, I believe you,” Wendy replied. “Thank you, have a
good day.”

“You too,” Jerry replied. The phone signal changed to a
normal one as John took it.

“That it?” John asked.

“For now, thanks John. We'll call you if there is anything
else,” Peter said.

“Yeah, I'll remember to put it on vibrate or lose it or
something,” John growled. “Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go see the
sights.”

“Right. Sure thing.” There was a click. Wendy snorted.
“Touchy, touchy,” she murmured.

...*...*...*...*...

“So... this is on the level?” the Captain asked again at
their next meeting. Wendy and Peter both nodded. “It is sir. I'm 100 percent
positive it is,” Wendy replied. “I've talked to Rose who talked to several
other people including the town's mayor. Irons is on the level. Hell, they are
also offering a discount on fuel and food to do the job. That doesn't come
around that often. He really made an impact on them.”

“I see.” The Captain mused.

“We're getting ten percent off from Fenly, and the mayor
offered another ten percent. That will put us in the black Captain even if we
don't get paid.”

“What are we hauling again?”

“A couple of hundred tons of material to the Navy.”

“The Navy. The admiral's Navy?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say what it was?”

“No. Classified. He put a lock on it.”

The Captain snorted. Wendy frowned. “From what I understand
from Mr. Fenly there are proscriptions against tampering. Pretty severe ones.
If someone opens the packages they melt down.”

The Veraxin chittered in dismay.

“So, we'll have to keep our noses short,” Peter replied
with a slight smile. He looked expectantly to the Captain. Slowly the others
did as well.

“Well...” the Captain mused. “I suppose. Nothing else lined
up?” he asked. The Veraxin shrugged.

“It is too early to pick up goods from the farms or the
growing industry. Right now the industry is filling needs on the planet. They
won't have a surplus for some time to come.”

“Okay.”

“We could wait...”

The Captain held up his hand. “No, we'll take a chance.” He
sounded amused by that now. “And as you said, we'll keep the cargo if they try
to gyp us.”

Reluctantly they agreed with slow nods around the room.

...*...*...*...*...

The last three shuttle loads came up with the admiral's
cargo and the passengers. There were 6, 4 humans a Veraxin, and a Gashg. All
seemed excited, looking around. “We have two cabins,” Wendy warned, waving a
tablet to indicate the direction that she wanted them to go in. “You will have
to hot bunk.”

“My body type doesn't fit on a bunk ma'am,” the Gashg
replied. She looked at him. He was young, she hadn't met many of his species
but could tell because his skin was unblemished. His species used scars to
attract mates. She wondered why he was doing this, leaving his family, his
clan.

“Mr. Fenly said to give you this,” One of the young men
said, holding up a chip. “It's orders from Irons and a pass code. With it
you'll get paid when you, I mean we, get to the system.”

“Ah, thank you,” she said, taking it.

“No problem ma'am,” he said with a nod. He was fourteen,
maybe fifteen. She wondered about the buzz cut. “Buzz?” she asked. He nodded.
He was a farmer, broad shouldered, just coming on, on his own. “Buzz, if I may
ask, why are you here?” she asked.

“Adventure ma'am. I didn't want to spend the rest of my
life on a farm. Sure Gaston is changing...” he shrugged. “But I'm the youngest
son of 12. I'm not going to get anything and I can either get into industry or
go break ground in the wild... or well, this.”

“Adventure yes! Risk, reward! Hot babes a plenty!” The
Gashg exclaimed in delight.

“Well!” Wendy said, eying them. They were all young she now
saw. All full of life. She just hoped their infectious risk taking didn't
infect her Jane. It was bad enough that Jane had picked up some mannerisms from
that cowgirl woman, and still insisted on wearing that wretched hat. “Fine
then. We'll show you around here. I expect you to mind your P's and Q's. The
Captain's word is law. Understand that. We'll show you the mess and head and
explain what to do in case of an emergency.”

“Aye ma'am. We'll try to behave and stay out of everyone's
way. We've got a lot of reading to do,” Buzz said, holding up a precious
tablet.

“Reading?”

“Exam prep. I want to be an officer.”

She blinked in surprise and then nodded. “Oh.”

The Captain watched Wendy lead her troop out and then came
out of the shadows of the flight bay hatch. “This had better be worth it,” he
growled, watching the crew transfer the cargo to hover pallets and then push
and pull them to the hold. The Veraxin was there, pointing the way. Some of the
shapes were awkward, others were rather straight forward boxes. It was
incredibly tempting to peek, but he resisted it.

...*...*...*...*...

Pyrax had changed, the Captain realized. He knew time held
no barrier to change, but still. He wasn't the only one shocked by all the
industry and activity in the system their sensors picked up.

“Sir we're being hailed by a ship off the port bow. A small
ship.”

“A ship?”

“Yes sir. There are two there. Sir, the hail states the
ship one point five million kilometers off our starboard side is a frigate. The
Centurion. Captain Samuels, Naomi Samuels.”

“A frigate? You mean a warship?” the Captain asked, sitting
up straight.

“Yes sir. Navy,” Rodrick said, looking up from his console.
“They want us to state our intentions and flight plan.”

“Not very friendly are they?” Rose the navigator and helms
woman asked.

“No. Can you blame them with the pirates around?” Rodrick
asked.

“As you were. Mister Rodrick, send them our identity. Then
ask for directions. Send them the files Mr. Fenly sent as an introduction.”

“Aye sir,” Mr. Rodrick replied dutifully, tapping at his
console. He frowned, then linked the message that they had from Mr. Fenly and
then sent it too. “Messages away.” The signal went out through their single
operational whisker laser.

After a long moment of quiet Rodrick cleared his throat.
“Still waiting for a response sir.”

“I'm wondering what they will say?” Rose murmured.

“It'd better be we've got your money, come in or we're
leaving,” the Captain growled. He stared at the little ship on his tablet. It
was a picket ship, but what was the other ship? He looked at it. It was
smaller, but only slightly. Unlike the manta shaped frigate this was a long
needle of a ship. It's rear bulge was flanked by 3 nacelles. It was smooth,
beautifully maintained he thought. At first he thought it was a yacht, he'd
seen some turned into small freighters. He could never really understand the
need, at best you could haul a couple people and hundred tons of cargo. That
wasn't hauling freight, that was nothing. It was a waste of fuel and time.

“Sir, we definitely have their interest,” Mr. Rodrick said
a few minutes later. “We've received a telemetry signal to steer clear of the
mines.”

The Captain looked up in surprise. “Mines? Did you say
mines?”

“Yes sir. We're in the middle of a minefield,” Rodrick
replied, paling slightly. Rose looked up, eyes wide. “They are stealthed sir,
with civilian gear we can't see them.”

“Oh. That's just...”

“We're cleared to go in system. However they've passed on a
warning not to use our wedge until we are at least a two million kilometers
outside the minefield and not near the yard.”

“Fat chance, we haven't used our wedge in nearly a century,”
the Captain murmured.

“Closer to two sir,” Rose replied softly.

The directions finally caught up to the Captain. “Wait.
Yard? What yard? What is a yard?”

“The Navy shipyard complex. That yard,” the exec said,
pointing to a series of stations and a giant moon near the familiar Anvil space
station. Ships and other craft were swarming all over the place, going about
their business. He sent the image to the Captain's portable display, as well as
to the navigator.

“Oh that yard,” the navigator said softly. “Spirit of
space. Someone's been busy!”

“I'll say. I think, if memory serves that's a construction
slip there,” the Captain said. He was looking at the image on his small tablet,
frowning as he tried to pick out details on a view screen no larger than the
palm of his hand. “Damn it, I wish the main viewer worked,” he grumbled.

“Slightly better view on my display sir,” Rodrick offered.
The Captain waved that off.

“No son, you need it for your duty. I'm just passing the
time. We'll see more details as we get closer I suppose.”

“It's... wow,” the helms woman said. “How are we supposed
to navigate that?”

“I'm receiving telemetry now,” Rodrick said. He tapped
receive, saved the file, and then sent it to her display. “You should have it
in a moment.”

“I don't see it... where, oh, okay,” Rose said, nodding. “I
have it now, thanks. I'm guessing someone sent it to us?”

“The Frigate. The Centurion sir. They are also letting the
yard know we're coming in.”

“Centurion?”

“She's new. Very new judging from her paint,” the Captain
said softly, zooming in on the ship with the bow cameras. “Hull markings...
United Federation Sapient Planets Navy PF-000012. It seems there are a lot of
them. What is PF? I wonder what that stands for?”

“Pyrax Frigate,” Rodrick replied. “That's a shipyard sir, I
imagine they built it.”

“Indeed. Well, this will be interesting then!” the Captain
said with a smile.

...*...*...*...*...

As they approached the yard a growing sense of wonder
worked its way through the crew. In order to better see it the Captain had them
shunt the signal to the central ship's net. Most of the bridge crew had
gathered in the galley where the biggest screen was available.

Others were there, off duty, all watching eagerly for any
new detail they could spot and point out to the others. It was a bit of a game,
who could spot something new and exciting first.

The ship slips were the thing they were focused on, but the
occasional orbital warehouse also got their attention. Rodrick moaned at all
the tugs and small craft darting around. Some were manned, some were automated.
All seemed busy. That was logical, they had a lot of projects going on.

There were many ships, many lit dry docks. Dozens, hundreds
of all sizes, most brightly lit. The central yard looked like a tree, octagon
slips were the branches. The largest branches had them excited. There was a
ship, a battleship of all things. Other ships could be seen as well, each
wrapped up in their own activity.

Unfortunately many slips were dark or covered in opaque
plastic panels to hide their contents. They could also see half completed ships
arranged in neat formations out beyond the yard. “I wonder what that's all
about?” Rodrick asked, pointing to them.

“No idea. And something tells me they won't tell us so
don't bother asking.”

“I wonder if they're selling ships?” Rodrick asked.

The other officers looked at him in amusement. He hunched
his shoulders. “It's a legit question! I mean they could be selling them to
neighboring systems as protection...”

“As if anyone could afford it. The question is why?”

“Irons. That admiral guy. Pirates. This is their answer.
His answer. They're gearing up to go on the offense I bet, not just defense.
Now I understand why we've got passengers,” Wendy murmured. The Captain glanced
her way. She shrugged. “To have that many ships you have to have crews to man
them right sir?”

Slowly the Captain nodded. “I see,” he murmured. So many
warships made him nervous, he was glad he was on their side. “Any word?”

“There's a lot of message traffic going around the system,”
Rodrick replied with a shrug. “Nothing directed at us for now. I think I did
pick up something about us on a media feed, how we're going to the yard
directly from the jump point instead of to Anvil or the nearest colony...”

“I take it someone's interested in that?”

“I'm guessing yes.”

“Keep me posted,” the Captain said, nodding.

...*...*...*...*...

The Governor frowned as his aide rushed in to his office.
“What is it?” he asked testily, looking up. One hand was on the blonde woman's
head between his thighs. The aide noted that the woman wasn't the Governor's
wife, not that it mattered to him. The Governor scowled and motioned for his
secretary to leave with a rough hand. The woman got up off her knees hastily,
wiped at her mouth and then rushed out, head down.