Junkyard Dogs 1: The Scrapyard Incident (30 page)

Chapter 56

Deep Space, near the UTFN Reclamation
Center, October 9, 2598.

The marines
onboard the
Istanbul's
cutter were
barely cordial and deadly serious about their
business. When the airlock door to the cutter opened up, three men in full
battle armor greeted the Scrapyard survivors. Unlike the raiders that the
defenders had dealt with earlier, these men didn't give the impression that
they were amateurs and their sleek battle armor was of the latest design.

Carlisle held
their two captured pulse weapons above her head in plain sight and surrendered
them immediately. Before the cutter began to move, each member of the team, as
well as the prisoner, was thoroughly examined with a handheld security scanner.
Finally they were ordered to take a seat. The prisoner was immediately stripped
of the armored suit and locked in a small holding area. Beyond simple
introductions, there was practically no conversation on the mercifully short
trip back to the Ambassador's ship.

Upon their
arrival at the
Istanbul
, they were
subjected to yet another extremely thorough security check after which the
prisoner was whisked off to somewhere. The leader of the rescue group, a man
called Hussein, told the trio that the Ambassador would see them immediately.
They were ushered into a small meeting room where all three were instructed to
take a seat on the same side of a conference table. Four guards, each armed
with what looked like a stun rod of some kind, lined the walls of the small
room. They too were all business.

What happened
next was completely unexpected. A tall, lithe woman in a flowing white garment
entered the room first. Her classically beautiful features were clearly visible
through a dark-tinted veil that covered her head and shoulders. The veil
shimmered with faint iridescent highlights when it caught the light at just the
right angle. Behind her was a tall, athletic and immaculately dressed man. He
was also immaculately groomed with short, black hair and a pencil-thin
mustache. Both dignitaries and all of the guards appeared to be of Old Earth
Middle East origin.
 

The man spoke,
his chiseled features breaking into a smile as he did so.

"Please
forgive all of the security measures. They are, I fear, something of a
necessary evil in these difficult times. I am Mohammad Saad Saladin,
Meridian
 
Ambassador
to
the Santana Quadrant. This most excellent lady is my wife, Sondia." He
looked the Scrapyard survivors over with dark, intelligent eyes and gave each
of them a short nod as he said their names. "You will be Lieutenant
Harris...and you will be technician Hawkins...and this must be Ensign Carlisle.
Captain Nassar tells me that you have had quite an adventure. Tell us what
happened. It would be advisable for you to be as truthful as you can; my wife
has...ah...certain abilities."

The three
defenders took turns telling the Ambassador about the events of the last three
days. The Ambassador's wife interrupted once or twice, to ask about certain
details, but mostly the diplomat and his wife just listened. When they had
finally finished the Ambassador shook his head in disbelief.

"Truly a remarkable tale!
Your bravery and
resourcefulness are to be commended! We will speak more of this later, as time
permits. Right now, in light of these new developments, there is much to do. We
have not forgotten our manners, however. While you have been telling your
story, we have been preparing accommodations for each of you. Hussein will show
you to your quarters." He smiled reassuringly. "Have no fear, you are
our honored guests. Please feel free to ask if you need anything. For now, I
think you should eat, refresh yourselves, and then get some rest. Also, I
totally agree with you. We must proceed on the assumption that the New Ceylon
Orbital station is not a safe place for us right now."

He shook hands
with each of them as they left the room. When the room had cleared, he looked
at his wife.

"What do you
make of it, Sondia?"

"They are
all telling the truth," she said. "I also think that the Lieutenant
and the Ensign might be romantically involved."

"We'll check
their story. I am very concerned that the authorities on the Orbital Station
haven't tried to contact us. They must have seen us come out of the hyperlink
point."

"As I said, husband.
These three are telling the
truth."
 

Chapter 57

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle,
October 10, 2598.

Clad in a
borrowed Orbital Station spacesuit, Perry Allen slipped out of the small
auxiliary airlock near the very southern end of the New Ceylon Orbital Station
spindle after clipping a tether to a D ring just outside the airlock door.
Maintaining physical contact with the station at all times, he made his way
over to the base of the Stage I Whitney communications dish. He clipped a
second tether to another D ring near the base of the dish and used the remote
system to unclip and reel in the other tether. It felt good to be working
outside again. The planet formed a breathtakingly beautiful, bright blue and
white backdrop behind him as he worked. He spoke into his suit communicator.

"I'm there,
Jane. This doesn't look too bad."

"Is the dish
intact?" Jane Tresham asked.

"Yeah, it's
in good shape, thank God. Just as we figured, their main target was the Stage
II dish. It looks like that took a direct hit. Most of the damage on the Stage
I dish looks to be shrapnel and splinters from the destruction of the other
dish."

"Is the
cable intact?"

"No, I think
that's the problem; at least I hope so. It looks like it might have been
sheared off pretty clean." After a brief inspection of the damage he
thought he knew what he needed.

"Have someone
put two meters of eight gauge shielded cable in the airlock," he said.
"I'll also need a heavy duty electrical splicing kit. I'll be back in
about ten minutes to get them."

He made a few
more preparations and then, retracing his route, retrieved the requested items
from the airlock and returned to the base of the dish where he expertly spliced
the cable into place, reconnecting the Stage I dish. Fifteen minutes later he
was back on board the station, out of his suit, and looking over Jane Tresham's
shoulder as she switched the console on and sent out a test message.

"This is
Jane Tresham, head of engineering for the New Ceylon Orbital Station, calling
anyone within range of this transmission. The Orbital station has been attacked
by terrorists. An organized resistance on the station has forced the terrorists
into a confined area, but they are holding hostages. The terrorists disabled
communications shortly before they mounted their attack. We are testing our
repairs. Please reply."

She repeated the
message.

Within a few
minutes they received a reply.

"New Ceylon
Orbital Station? This is Meridian Imperial Ship
Istanbul,
Captain
Nassar
here. You are
currently in control of the Orbital station?"

"Yes,
Captain Nassar, all except the receiving area for the main airlock and the main
airlock itself. The remaining terrorists are barricaded in that area."

"How did you
manage to regain control of the station?"

"Commander
Oskar Kresge of the Federation Navy assumed command of the Station forces a few
hours ago. Since he took command, we have managed to kill or capture fifteen of
the terrorists that remained on board. I should warn you that they had two
stolen cargo vessels that were converted into pirate ships fitted with
high-powered pulse beam weapons. We don't know the location of either ship
since they both went out to the New Ceylon Reclamation Center to attack
survivors out there who were hoping to warn you."

"The
survivors have succeeded, Ms. Tresham. We picked up four people about six hours
ago and they have informed us about the situation on the station. We are
currently on route to lend you whatever assistance we can. Naturally, I cannot
take any risks with the Meridian Ambassador and the Prime Minister's daughter
on board."

"That is
perfectly understandable, Captain. What happened to the two raider ships?"

"Your
Scrapyard survivors destroyed both of them."

"They got
both ships? Did they tell you how?"

"I shall let
them tell you the story themselves, Ms. Tresham. It was a remarkable
achievement and I could never do it justice. Would it be possible to speak with
your Commander?"

"Certainly,
Captain, though I hope you don't mind waiting a little while. The Orbital
Station communications are still down. I'm calling from an auxiliary
communications room at the base of the station spindle. The Commander is way
out on the fifth deck of the wheel and will need to come up from there. That
means a climb up one of the spokes to the spindle, since the elevators aren't
operating. That will probably take an hour or so. My apologies, we're still in
a bit of disarray here."

"We can
wait, Ms. Tresham. Contact us when the Commander is available. Meanwhile we are
using maximum thrust and expect to arrive in about twelve hours or so."

"Thank you,
Captain. Until later then..."

Tresham signed
off and proceeded to track down Kresge.

Chapter 58

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Smuggler's Lair,
October 10, 2598
.

Amanda Steuben
ran breathlessly into the Big Hall down on the fifth level of the Orbital
Station. She scanned the area and immediately spotted Commander Kresge across
the room, surrounded by his battle commanders. Jane Tresham had told her to
interrupt whatever the Commander was doing and deliver her message.

"...so now
the bastard says he has a nuclear bomb planted and needs a ship...,"
Kresge was explaining.

"I'm sorry,
Commander," Amanda interrupted. "Jane Tresham has made contact with
the Meridian Ambassador. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Excuse me,
all," said Kresge. He turned to Amanda. "What do I need to do?"

"Sorry,
Commander, but you'll have to go up to the spindle. We have a cart waiting
outside."

They took the
cart over to the nearest stairwell, and Kresge went up the stairs to the fourth
deck entrance that provided access to the spoke maintenance area. Orville
Steuben himself guided Kresge through the doors and hatches as well as
accompanying him on the journey up the caged ladder of the spoke.

"Commander?"
said Steuben, while they were stopped for a short rest on one of the landings.
"Could I ask you something?"

"We've got a
few minutes, ask away."

"It's about
my daughter."

"Your daughter?
Kresge gave him a perplexed look.

"Hear me
out, Commander, please? You know that she wasn't part of the Organization,
don't you?"

"I didn't, but
I'll take your word for it. Why is that important?"

"She's a
good kid, Commander, she's smart, she works hard and her grades have always
been real good..."

"What's this
leading up to, Steuben?"

"As a
Commander in the Federation Navy... you could help her get into the Naval
Academy."

Kresge was
stunned.

"Yes...I
suppose I could. Is this something she wants?"

"More than ever after working with you, Commander."

"I...I don't
know what to say, Steuben. Yes, I'll look into it."

"Thanks,
Commander."

They resumed
climbing. Kresge, in spite of being in rather good condition, was breathless as
they finally floated into the spindle. Jane Tresham was waiting for them.

"Commander,
we finally meet face to face!" said Tresham as she vigorously shook
Kresge's hand.

"You folks
have been doing a hell of a job up here, Jane. Juggling the atmosphere was just
what we needed. Unfortunately, we have other problems now. The leader of this
batch of misfits claims he has a nuclear bomb planted and he'll set it off if
we don't meet his demands."

"I heard.
That creep is just full of tricks, isn't he?"

"That he is,
but he's the one trapped on the top end of the spindle, not us. We'll think of
something. Meanwhile, better put me in contact with the Ambassador."

They made their
way several levels southward in the spindle to the long neglected
communications room near the very southern tip. Tresham led Kresge and Steuben
over to the Stage I communications console and switched it from standby to
active status.

"This is
Jane Tresham of the New Ceylon Orbital Station calling Meridian Imperial Ship
Istanbul
. I have Commander Kresge
standing by."

The Meridian ship
must have been waiting for the message because an answer came almost
immediately.

"
Istanbul
here.
A moment, please, for Captain Nassar."

An impressive looking, barrel-chested individual in an immaculate
Meridian Imperial Navy uniform came onto the screen.

"Commander
Kresge?"

"Yes, that's
me."

"I'm Captain
Nassar of the Meridian Imperial Navy. The Ambassador will be with us in another
few minutes. I wish to inform you that we have several of your Federation Navy
personnel onboard. You should be able to speak with them after the Ambassador
has been fully briefed."

"I would
greatly appreciate that, Captain. Can you tell me who they are?"

"In a moment, Commander.
We've summoned them to the
bridge. Ah, here's the Ambassador."

A handsome man,
slimmer than the Captain, but with similar dark brown eyes and olive complexion
appeared on the viewscreen. Upon closer inspection, his immaculately-groomed
black hair was shot with a few streaks of gray and the skin of his face was
creased in places; there were also a few wrinkles, especially around his eyes.
Dressed in elegant but casual clothing, he projected an image of easy, almost
nonchalant professionalism. Next to him a beautiful woman with shoulder-length
black hair came into view.

"Greetings,
Commander Kresge. I am Ambassador Saladin. You have met Captain Nassar; this is
my wife Sondia. She is also my most trusted advisor. You and I were scheduled
to meet as part of the diplomatic program onboard the orbital station. I was
really looking forward to meeting you and discussing your famous
Scrapyard."

"The
pleasure is all mine, Excellency," said Kresge. He also acknowledged the
Ambassador's wife with a slight bow. "Lady Sondia." She nodded and he
continued, "Perhaps we can still have that conversation. However, right
now I have a bit of a situation."

"So I've
heard. The three survivors from the attack on the Scrapyard have told us quite
a tale. From the sound of things your own story is every bit as exciting."

"More
exciting than I care for, Excellency. I...I don't know how to put this
delicately... The terrorists are from the Veritian Brotherhood..."

"Yes,
Commander, your three Scrapyard survivors told us that."

"Their plan
was to lure you on board the station and capture you."

"After which
we were to be held for ransom?"

"Ah...not exactly.
They reportedly made a deal with the
Sheik of Barsoom to turn you over to him.
Not just you,
Excellency, your wife as well."

There was a
silence as this information sunk in. Kresge continued.

"I regret
that I am the one who must tell you these things, Excellency. Thank the powers
that be that we have, so far, managed to thwart these plans."

"I shall be
eternally grateful, Commander." The Ambassador, for all of his expertise
and experience, had been visibly shaken by the information.

"Our
situation is still far from resolved," Kresge continued. "The leader
of the terrorists has insisted that he be put into contact with you. He has
some demands. He's holding the station governor and the governor's family as
hostages. He also claims that he's planted a nuclear device on the station. If
I were you, I wouldn't come within a hundred kilometers of the station, and I'd
keep my shields powered up, just to be on the safe side."

As his training
and his natural instincts kicked back in, the Ambassador recovered his
composure. "Where in this quadrant would a renegade Christian sect get
their hands on a nuclear device?" he
asked,
concern in his expression and his tone.

"That I
don't know. He could be bluffing, but we obviously can't afford to find out
that he isn't."

"It will
hurt nothing if I talk to him, Commander. It might even buy us all some time.
As soon as we heard from your Scrapyard survivors, we contacted the Federation
authorities at the Santana Nexus. Unfortunately, they won't be able to get
reinforcements here for at least another thirty hours or so. We will take your
advice and stay a safe distance away from the station with shields powered.
However, we may be able to render assistance in unexpected ways."

"I don't
know if we have thirty hours, Excellency. Even if we did, I don't know that a
squadron of warships will necessarily do any good either. I'd say we're still
pretty much on our own. Naturally, anything you can do will be greatly
appreciated. What did you have in mind?"

"The
Istanbul
is equipped with sensing
equipment that could probably locate a nuclear device, if there is one. I think
the equipment will function adequately to confirm the existence of such a
device, maybe even pinpoint its location, even from a hundred kilometers
away."

"The station
has some pretty effective anti-radiation coating, but you might still be able
to locate a nuclear signature. It'd sure be worth a try, Excellency.
How long until you're in position?"

"We should
be at that range in just under ten hours now, Commander. Make whatever
arrangements you need to for my conversation with the terrorist leader and keep
me informed. In fact, our forces will need to be in constant contact from now
on as we work to find a way to resolve this situation, hopefully without more
bloodshed." The Ambassador's face lit up in a genuine smile as he was
distracted by something off screen. "Ah," he said, "they have
arrived. Perhaps you'd like to speak with your survivors now, Commander."

The three
Scrapyard defenders crowded together so Kresge could see all of them at once in
the display.

"Harris,
Carlisle, Hawkins! You guys all made it!"

"That we
did, Commander," said Harris. "We have a heck of a story, but I'm
afraid it'll have to wait. I understand that there's a... a rather sticky
situation onboard the station?"

"That's
right, Lieutenant," said Kresge, serious again. "The terrorist leader
claims to have nuclear device that he'll set off if we don't meet his demands.
We don't know if he's bluffing or not."

There was a short
silence. The three defenders looked at one another. Carlisle bit her lip.

"He might
not be, Sir," she said, finally. "We captured one of the terrorists
during the attack by the first ship. Actually, he might not be a terrorist at
all, his name is Caleb Jordan and..."

Kresge
interrupted her.

"You
captured someone named Caleb Jordan?"

"Yes, Commander.
You've heard of him?"

"Well I'll
be...His wife, Hanna, escaped from the raiders and turned herself into us a
couple of days ago."

"You mean
his wife is alive? She wasn't on board the second raider ship?"

"Absolutely not!
She's here and she's alive and well.
More than that, she's been a lot of help!"

"So has her
husband, Commander," said Carlisle. "He told us that the pulse beam
weapons on the raider ships had been salvaged from an Opposition Cruiser that
survived the Succession War. If that's true, and we think it probably is, then
the terrorists could very well have a working nuclear device. They could have
removed the nuclear self-destruct module from the same ship. Let me see if I
can get some details."

She consulted her
wrist computer. They all watched patiently as she went through the ritual.

"Succession
War... Veritian Brotherhood... Heavy cruiser...Excalibur class... self destruct
module... Here it is, Commander, it would be a cylinder about a meter tall and
a meter in diameter. Yield around twenty-five metric kilotons.
More than enough to take out the station and just about everything
else within a fifteen kilometer radius.
I'd make the danger zone out to
be about fifty kilometers."

"Not good
news, but good work, Ensign."

"Ambassador,
will that information be helpful?"

"Most definitely, Commander."

Kresge
reluctantly relayed some final information.

"There's
something else you all need to know." He glanced over at Steuben.
"Our resistance group is... a bit unusual. There isn't time to go into too
much detail, but be aware that Irene Marshall and I and several station
security people took refuge with the members of a smuggling ring right after
the attacks. To be truthful, we didn't have much choice. Irene and I have managed
to get them all working together for now, but there's still a lot of tension.
Some of the station security people still aren't too happy about it. If you ask
me, the members of the smuggling ring have more than risen to the occasion and
we wouldn't be talking right now if it weren't for them. I'd like to see them
get some kind of immunity from prosecution or something. Maybe you can help
with that, Excellency, but we can talk more about that later.
If there is a later.
Right now, I've got to go. I still have
a hostage situation and now probably a real nuclear bomb to deal with." He
paused for a moment. "Carlisle, I want you to put your tactical mind to
work on a solution for this situation."

"Hostage...nuclear
bomb...solution...," she said, swallowing nervously.
"Absolutely,
Commander.
I'll get to work on it right away."
 

Kresge
signed off.

"We need to
talk to Caleb Jordan again," said Carlisle. "He may have more
information that we can use."

To their
surprise, the Ambassador's wife spoke up.

"I would like
to accompany you."

"Absolutely,"
said Harris.

"Very good.
However, I must get something from my
rooms. I'll meet you outside the prisoner's quarters in five minutes."