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Authors: Thomas DePrima

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BOOK: A Galaxy Unknown
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"Thank you, sir," Dommler said as he eased him-self down into one of two overstuffed chairs that faced the Admiral. Commander Keith Kanes of SCI occupied the other. Dommler was still breathing a little heavy, having been summoned to come to the Admiral's office immediately. When a two-star admiral summons you to come immediately, you hurry. Watching the Admiral, Dommler reminded himself that he had to get to the gym more often than once every couple of weeks. At just five-foot eight-inches, he would never be the imposing figure that the admiral was, but being only fifty-seven years old, he shouldn't be breathing as laboriously as he currently was from just hurrying through the base.

"Please continue, Commander Kanes," Admiral Holt said.

Looking at Dommler with piercing steel-grey eyes, the five-foot eleven-inch officer said, "I was saying that Space Command Intelligence believes this to be a ploy by the Raiders to get close enough to the base to take us out in one lightning attack while our guard in down. They went to a lot of trouble, and great risk, to steal those two ships, so they must have had this planned for some time. Those ships are the most powerful spacecraft in the known galaxy, and I don't mind telling you that I've had a lot of sleepless nights thinking about them having fallen into Raider hands. If the Raiders could knock out this base, they'd have the run of this entire deca-sector. We've been the only thing keeping them even moderately in check."

"What about that message that we received from Carver earlier, when she was aboard the Vordoth?" Holt asked.

"We believe they were just priming the pump, sir. She said that she'd been asked to take command of the freighter after the captain was killed. Admiral, no first officer that I know of would just turn over command of his or her ship to a mere ensign, even if the first officer had no formal military training. It just doesn't wash."

"I tend to agree with you," Holt said, "but the serial number checks out. It was the one assigned to Ensign Carver; and her likeness matches the file photos. She also used a valid GSC encryption code for her transmissions."

"The serial number could be obtained easily enough, sir, from records available to the general public. Ensign Carver died aboard the Hokyuu eleven years ago and the accident investigation files were widely distributed. I'm sure her serial number is listed in several places within official documents released to the public under disclosure laws. And the physical appearance of this woman could have been altered easily enough with modern surgical techniques. The encryption code was a valid code, but it was over ten years old. It could have been broken years ago and we just never knew it. For that matter, if Carver did get out of the Hokyuu, they may have found her escape pod and taken the data ring from her corpse. That's one of the reasons that we retire even ‘unbroken' encryption codes every year. They certainly did their homework when they prepared this operation. The Raider organization has some brilliant criminal minds.

"SCI believes that the Vordoth was captured by Raiders and is now also crewed by members of that crime organization. It's the consensus of my section's staff that we'll be attacked as soon as the three ships get within energy weapon range of the station. The freighter alone is carrying the firepower of a Space Command light destroyer and it would be suicide to allow them close enough to Higgins for their laser arrays to become effective. According to our records, the Vordoth also has four torpedo tubes.

"I mean, really sir, how probable is it that such a junior officer could organize a group of escaped civilian captives into commando squads able to overpower the entire Raider crews of both stolen battleships, then command the operation of Space Command's most sophisticated vessels? Especially someone with such a poor record in command and control exercises as the real Carver had during her Academy years? Our files indicate that Carver was ideally suited for a life in the service, simply because it saved her from having to decide which
clothes
to wear each morning."

Admiral Holt nodded and grimaced. "Yes, I read her complete file. She was extremely intelligent, but apparently equally indecisive. Well, we have our normal protection force of five warships in port. I'll issue orders to put them on alert. I'll also summon all other ships within thirty-light-years to return to the base immediately. If the Prometheus, Chiron, or Vordoth come within a billion miles of this base, we'll show them that Space Command knows how to deal with Raiders."

"But, sir," Captain Dommler said, "what if the message is genuine? I realize that it's a million to one long shot, but there is a possibility. Tests have indicated that a human in prime physical condition, as a young Space Command officer would be, could potentially survive in a stasis chamber for as long as forty-two years, if the pod's power source continues to function properly. Can we just destroy them without warning?"

Holt was quiet for a few seconds while he stared down at his hands and rethought his position. "No. You're right, Captain, we shouldn't, even though the rated useful life of power cells in the Hokyuu's escape pods was only seven years. Send a message to the three ships informing them that they will not be allowed to approach the base as they plan. This will be their only warning, and they ignore it at their peril."

"Aye, Admiral."

"I think it's a serious mistake to warn them, Admiral," Kanes said. "This might be our only opportunity to destroy the Prometheus and Chiron before the Raiders can use them against us. We should let them think that we're greeting them with open arms, and then strike them with everything we have. We can destroy them well before they come within range to use their laser arrays or torpedoes on the station. They'll think their plan is working, and never know what hit them when a hundred torpedoes blow them apart."

"No, Commander. We must play by the rules, even if the Raiders don't. We'll warn them off first— and then blast them to space dust if they persist in their attempts to approach the station."

* * *

It took almost thirty hours for a reply to come from Space Command. That was about fourteen hours longer than it should have taken for a normal communication. When the message arrived, Jenetta had the com operator put it through to her briefing room. She lifted the com screen panel on her desk, pressed the ‘play message' button, and watched as the screen lit up with the image of a GSC captain.

"This is Higgins Space Command Base at Vinnia calling the ship identifying itself as Prometheus GSC-B368. No such ship name or number is currently included in the Galactic Space Command Ship Registry. If you, the Vordoth, or the ship calling itself Chiron approaches Vinnia, you do so at your own peril. This is Captain Richard Dommler, out."

Jenetta sat back in her chair and thought about the message for a while. Then she got up and prepared a mug of coffee before plopping back down in her chair to consider the implications again. The matter would weigh heavily on her mind for the next seven weeks.

Chapter Twenty-Two

~ December 24
th
, 2267 ~

Ten days before their expected arrival at Vinnia, Jenetta called Lt. Commander Michaels into her briefing room. After each of them prepared a beverage from the food synthesizer, they sat down at the desk, Jenetta behind it in her large executive chair, and Michaels in one of the over-stuffed visitor chairs in front.

"Hugh, I'd like you to see a message that I received from Space Command."

"Space Command? I wasn't aware that we had received any messages from them recently."

"This was the first and only message that we've received," Jenetta said quietly. "I've devoted quite a bit of time thinking about it, and decided that you should be aware of its content as well." She raised the com's viewscreen panel, swiveled it towards Michaels, and pressed the ‘play message' button after selecting the message from the queue.

Michaels watched without expression and then turned to Jenetta with a puzzled look. "I don't understand."

"They don't accept that we are who we say we are," Jenetta said matter-of-factly.

Michaels was quiet as he thought that over. "Who do they think we are, Captain?"

"I suspect they believe us to be Raiders, and that this is a ruse to get the battleships in close to the space port so that we can destroy it. At least that might be my speculation, were I in their position."

Michaels looked at the floor and whistled a quiet series of notes that trailed off slowly.

"Exactly."

"What do we do, Captain? Surely you can contact the base commander and explain our situation."

"Uh, I'm afraid not. You see, to them, I've been dead for eleven years."

"I— don't understand."

"It's simple. I'm officially listed as dead in Space Command records."

"Is that so you could carry on clandestine operations? Spy stuff?"

"No, nothing like that. Did you ever hear of the Hokyuu?"

"The Hokyuu?" Michaels scrunched up his face slightly while he thought. "Isn't that the GSC quartermaster ship that exploded for unexplained causes about eleven years ago?"

"Yes. I was onboard the Hokyuu until a few seconds before it exploded."

Michaels chuckled. "You sure do get around, Captain. Uh— you're not telling me that
you
destroyed the Hokyuu, are you?"

"No, of course not. Do you remember how many people were lost on the Hokyuu?"

"As best I can recall, all hands were recovered except one."

"Correct. That individual was one Ensign Jenetta Alicia Carver, recent graduate of NHSA, class of ‘56."

"You mean they rigged the explosion to fake your death?"

"No, Hugh, the explosion was real. I managed to make it into an escape pod and leave the ship just seconds before it exploded. My pod was damaged by the explosion and never fired the retrorocket intended to stop its travel near the site of the disaster. Additionally, because I was so close to the ship when it blew, I was caught in the blast. My speed was greatly accelerated when I was hit by fragments of the ship."

"How long did it take them to find you?"

"Almost eleven years."

He was quiet for a few seconds as he digested the information. "You're telling me that you spent eleven years floating in an escape pod?"

"Exactly. You're looking at the current surviving record holder for continuous time in a stasis chamber, according to Doctor Erikson. Now you know why I look so young for a graduate of the class of ‘56."

Michaels was quiet for a full fifteen seconds as he worked things out in his head. "Then you're not a Space Command captain? You're only an ensign?"

"That's right."

Michaels jumped up, spilling coffee on his uniform as his mug fell to the floor. He glared at Jenetta and screamed, "You mean that I've been taking orders from a god-damned ENSIGN for the past five months?!"

The door-chime sounded just then, but because of the tenseness of the situation, Jenetta tried to ignore it. It sounded again, twice. Michaels was still glaring at Jenetta when she said, "Come."

Gunny Rondell strode into the room, a concerned look on his face. As the door closed behind him, he said, "I thought I heard yelling. Is everything all right, Captain?"

"She's not a captain!" Michaels said in a booming voice. "She's only a Space Command
ENSIGN
!"

"Yes sir, I know," Gunny said calmly. "But that's Space Command's mistake. To me she's a captain; the best one I've ever served under. And that's saying something. How many Space Command captains do
you
know who could have engineered his or her own escape from that hell of a detention center, freed the rest of us, and seized two new battleships during the breakout."

Michaels calmed down, looked at Jenetta with a slack-jawed, quizzical look on his face, and asked, "Has
everyone
known about your real rank except me?"

"No, not
everyone
; just the crew of the Vordoth, and anyone else that they might have told."

"And they still all call you Captain?"

"I was asked to take command of the ship after the first Raider strike. They've only called me Captain since then."

A look of thorough exasperation covered his face as Michaels plopped back down into the ‘oh-gee' chair. "This is unbelievable; simply unbelievable."

Jenetta turned to Gunny Rondell while Michaels tried to come to grips with the situation. "Did you need something, Gunny?" Jenetta asked.

"That officer wants to see you; the obnoxious commander that you captured on the bridge."

"I'll come down as soon as Commander Michaels and I are finished here."

"Aye, Captain, thank you. Sorry to have interrupted."

"No problem, Gunny. Dismissed."

Michaels stared at Jenetta as Gunny left. He slumped in his chair as he said morosely, "We're in a fine mess. A ship that doesn't exist, with a captain that doesn't exist, traveling in hostile space and proscribed from ever making port. We're almost like a ghost ship. Perhaps we should change our name to the Flying Dutchman. No wonder Higgins is wary."

"We exist. We just have to prove it to Space Command. Do you wish to be relieved of further duty while on board?"

Michaels gripped the arms of the chair tightly and sat upright, looking at Jenetta angrily. "Of course not. I've never shirked responsibility in my life."

"I only thought that you might have trouble taking orders from a captain for whom you lack respect. We still have dangerous days ahead, and I need to know that everyone under my command will do what I say, when I say it. Lives could hang in the balance."

Michaels took a deep breath, relaxed into the chair, and was quiet for a few seconds. "Back in the detention cells I made a promise to obey every order that you give until we clear Raider space and reach a Space Command base. I'll abide by that. Until we dock at the Vinnia base, you're the captain of this ship, and I'll follow your orders."

"Even if I order you to fire on another Space Command vessel?"

"Would you order such a thing?" Michaels asked as he gave Jenetta a sidelong glance.

"I'll do whatever's necessary to protect the lives of my crew and passengers, and those aboard the other ships under my command."

Michaels shook his head slowly. "I don't know, Captain. I honestly don't know if I could do that."

"I'll accept that. I know that you'll do the right thing when the time comes." Standing up, Jenetta said, almost lightly, "I'm going to see what our prisoner wants."

Gunny was waiting for her when she arrived down at the cargo bay where the prisoners were being held.

"He wants a private audience," Gunny said, "so I put him over here in a utility room." Leading the way to a room not much larger than a walk-in closet, he opened the door for Jenetta. Commander Pretorious was standing in the middle of the small room with his restraints secured. His scowl and glaring look revealed his mood.

"Thank you, Gunny."

"I'll be right outside the door, Captain."

The door slid closed behind her as Jenetta approached the Raider officer.

"You wished to see me, Commander?"

"Actually, I wish that I never laid eyes on you, but that choice wasn't mine."

Jenetta grinned. "What is it you want? I'm sure that you didn't ask for a private meeting only to exchange insults."

"Obviously, I want my freedom."

"I know exactly how you feel. I felt the same way while I was locked in the detention center at your spaceport." Pausing for a second, Jenetta added, "No, let me retract that. I should have said that I can imagine how you feel. You haven't been starved, groped, and tortured as I was."

"And yet you found a way to escape," Pretorious said with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, but that way isn't open to you." Smiling she added, "I doubt that you have the legs for it."

Pretorious was confused by her statement but continued with, "I think that I have another way."

"Do you? I'm listening."

"I have information that I'm willing to exchange for my freedom."

Jenetta shook her head. "Not a chance."

"Don't be so hasty. You haven't heard what I'm offering."

"Very well, keep talking."

"I know what our next mission was, what target will be hit, and where."

"It's immaterial. The Raider fleet has been destroyed. You were on the bridge when that happened so I know you saw the asteroid explode. There could have been what, two or three ships that
weren't
in port for all the big meetings?"

Pretorious grinned menacingly. "Yes, you destroyed
a
fleet, but there are five other Raider space stations operating in Galactic Alliance space that have, thankfully, never even heard of Captain Jenetta Carver, and each has a fleet just as large or larger then the one you destroyed. Did you really think that you wiped out our entire operation? You haven't done anything more than peck at the surface. How did you happen to become a Space Command captain, by the way? You can't be older than eighteen."

"I'm going to be thirty-three in May, if it's of any concern to you."

"It isn't. My only concern is getting out of your brig and regaining my freedom."

Jenetta arched her eyebrows. "So you can return to robbery, murder, hijacking ships, and enslaving people?"

"It's a living," Pretorious said dispassionately. "If I'm not there to do it, dozens of others are just waiting to take my place."

"Well then," Jenetta retorted with a smirking grin, "let's just say that I believe in providing job opportunities to the unemployed, and that
you
shall remain off the job market."

Jenetta could tell from Pretorious' flushed face and tightened jaw muscles that he was straining to hold his temper. "You're going to be a big hero when you get back to Space Command. Wouldn't you like to be bigger still?"

"Get to the point, Commander. My coffee's getting cold."

"I'm offering you the opportunity to save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives, and you're concerned about your coffee getting cold? What kind of GSC officer
are
you?"

"The kind who's getting tired of listening to someone prattle on endlessly and never say anything worthwhile."

"Okay, then listen to this— twenty-three of our biggest and best warships at Raider-One were designated to be part of a special attack force, and our group was only
one-half
of a combined force that was scheduled to leave the day after your escape. We were supposed to meet up with an equally large force from Raider Three and attack the target together."

"Forty-six warships? What's the target? A planet?"

"That's the question, isn't it? You want the answer, and I want out of here. All I need is a space tug with ninety days food and water on board. You have a couple on each battleship. GSC won't even know that it's missing since there weren't any with the ships when we hijacked them."

"So you want me to free you and aid your escape, just because you give me the name of a target that won't be attacked now that the attack fleet has lost half its ships? I'll tell you what I'll do. You give me the locations of all the Raider space stations in GA space and I'll make sure that the prosecution knows how very helpful you've been. I'm sure they'll even commute the death penalty."

"Yeah, sure. I give you the locations and then I'm found dead in my cell a week later, and my entire family is killed as well. You don't seem to comprehend the magnitude and power of the organization behind me. The company doesn't mess around. No deal, honey." Pretorious' control over his temper was starting to fail and he said loudly, "You really are one stupid little bitch, aren't you?"

Jenetta smiled sweetly. "Perhaps, but then I'm not the one in restraints, am I?" She turned, opened the door, and said, "I'm finished here, Gunny."

"Aye, Captain."

As she walked out the room, Commander Pretorious finally lost all control of his temper and yelled, "You're dead, you little bitch, you're dead! You hear me? That's a promise!"

But all Jenetta really heard was the sound of a balled fist solidly striking the flesh of a face, a grunt, and the sound of a body hitting the deck. Gunny didn't like people talking to his favorite captain like that.

Returning to the bridge, Jenetta walked to her briefing room, prepared a fresh mug of coffee, and sat down at her desk while an automated housekeeping robot continued to scrub the carpet where Lt. Commander Michaels had dropped his coffee mug. She had already given a great deal of thought to what the target of the big operation might be, but having been out of touch for more than ten years made it difficult. She hadn't even heard of the Nordakians until their distress call was received. Even if she knew what was going on in the galaxy, she probably wouldn't have the inside information necessary to identify the target. It was most likely a convoy of ships that the Raiders had learned about from their spy network. One thing she did believe— Pretorious would never have given her any useful information. She practically had to melt his brain just to get the lockout codes for the ship.

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