The Clones of Mawcett (44 page)

After having the crew disembark, except for Marine security personnel, Jenetta ordered the ship moved to one of the two currently available, enclosed spacedocks. Once the ship was moored inside, and the dock pressurized, workers could perform their duties without having to wear bulky EVA suits.

Engineers from several ships in port collected to assist in the work on the damaged systems. Jenetta's office arranged housing for the displaced crewmembers and coordinated the repair efforts. As was her custom, she entertained the senior staff on their first night at the station. The entire senior staff came for dinner since only Marine guards were left onboard the ship, and her private dining room was filled to capacity. They talked about the brief battle with the Raider ship, and discussed tactics for several hours.

“How would you have handled it, Commander?” Captain Rhein asked Jenetta.

“I doubt that I would have handled it any differently, Captain,” Jenetta responded. “A random encounter in space hardly allows for a battle plan. It was pure chance that they damaged your power systems. It could easily have gone the other way. Then instead of your coming here for repairs, you would have been bringing us prisoners; if any survived.”

“It would suit me fine if none survived. I had several friends on the Delhi, and my roommate at the academy was the first officer on the Song. He was on the bridge when the ship was damaged at Vauzlee. Perhaps you remember Commander Harant?”

“Just the name, I'm afraid. When I took command of the ship after the battle, the bridge officers were all deceased. It was hours before we could even reclaim their bodies. We had to wait until the bridge bulkheads were repaired and the bridge re-pressurized. The crewmembers of the Song and the Delhi were terrible losses, and they were just part of our total losses that day. We made the Raiders pay though. They lost fifty for each of ours.”

“It's not enough. We have to stamp out these vermin once and for all. They've been running rampant for thirteen years now!”

“We're making progress, sir. In the past two years we've slowly been cutting away at their bases, ships, and personnel. I understand they're having trouble recruiting new people; even from the scum on Urgucet. The word is out that Space Command is coming on hard and that employment with the Raiders is not conducive to long life.”

“Where did you hear that, Commander?”

“Oh, one hears quite a lot of things on a space station that has as much freighter traffic as we see, now that the Raider threat has been removed from this sector. You need only keep your ears open.”

“Yes, I suppose you would hear things. Have you learned where Raider Two is?”

“No, I haven't. I'm sure that its exact location is a closely guarded secret, limited to senior command officers of the Raider ships. Eventually, we'll find it, even though it's probably as well hidden as this base was.”

“But you must have some idea.”

Jenetta didn't feel compelled to share the information that she had learned in her intelligence briefing at Higgins with the entire senior staff of a destroyer so she tried to remain somewhat vague. “It appears that it's either in sector 8667-4869 or 8667-4868,” Jenetta said. “Beyond that I don't know.”

“Those two sectors include two-hundred square light years. We must be able to narrow it down more than that?”

“Did you get a course fix on the ship that you tangled with before you engaged?”

Captain Rhein looked over at his astrogation officer, who nodded. “Yes, we did.”

“Did you include that information in your report, or did you only report the course of the ship after the encounter?”

“I'm sure that we reported its course after the engagement.”

“The course before the encounter might be of more use to intelligence. There's always the chance that the ship was either headed to or from the Raider camp. I doubt they'd run towards the base after the engagement, although that information can be useful also.”

“It's possible. I assumed that they were simply on an intercept course, believing us to be a freighter or passenger ship. I'm sure their original course information is recorded in the main computer and can still be retrieved. I'll find it and pass it on to Intelligence in the hope that it can help.”

“They never know what tiny scrap of information will pay big dividends. I've been looking for anything that will help me track down my sister. So far I haven't found a thing, but there has to be someone who knows.”

“Since she wasn't on the Boshdyte, is there a chance that she had been–– killed, and her body ejected?”

Jenetta sighed and said, “Anything is possible. We down-loaded the Boshdyte's computer contents after we captured it. We not only didn't find any clue as to the location of other bases, there also weren't any entries about Christa, except one describing her capture, and the doctor's records regarding x-rays made in the sick bay. The Tsgardi are terrible record keepers, and their computer files were as messy and disorganized as their ship. When the Tsgardi died, we may have lost our only chance to learn what happened, but I'm not giving up.”

The_Clones_of_Mawcett

Chapter Twenty-One

~ August 16th, 2271 ~

It took several weeks for the engineers to complete repairs to the Johannesburg, but the ship was able to return to its patrol of the sector with its systems fully restored.

Inside the asteroid, the shopping concourse most reflected the spaceport's growth and popularity as the base quickly developed into a hub for freighter and military ships. Jenetta always took at least two daily breaks from her regular duties and strolled along the walkways, chatting with merchants and visitors when greeted. She often ate lunch at one of the numerous restaurants and food counters that had opened.

On one particular day, Jenetta was enjoying a lunch of Queelish, a Nordakian vegetable stew, when an Alyysian trader slid into the seat across from her. Members of a race that had migrated from thousands of light-years across the galaxy with pre-FTL propulsion, the Alyysian claimed no home world in Alliance space, although there were small colonies on several different worlds. Their unique physiology allowed them to be frozen solid and then thawed out and revived when they reached their destination. She had met a few Alyysian in the past, but this one was unknown to her.

“Goo noon, Com,” Jenetta heard in her CT as the Alyysian spoke.

Jenetta held up an index finger and then adjusted the translator device that she wore on her belt so the proper translation would come through. It hadn't been set for Alyysian speech, but part of the sentence had been translated anyway. Then she nodded to the Alyysian.

“Good afternoon, Commander.”

“Good afternoon, Shev…”

“I am Shev Pallowkith.”

“Good afternoon, Shev Pallowkith.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Jenetta knew that Alyysian traded anything and everything of value. They never hesitated to trade in slaves, drugs, or even body parts, although such trades were illegal in GA regulated space. They enjoyed no diplomatic immunity, so if convicted of trading in illegal contraband, they would be sent to a Galactic Alliance prison. For that reason, they rarely sought out Space Command officers. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I rather think it's a matter of what I can do for you. I have information on the whereabouts of your sister, Christa.”

Jenetta stopped eating and put the spoon down. “I'm listening.”

“Information has recently come my way that a young Terran woman matching your description is available for sale from the Tsgardi. I believe that she might be your lost clone.”

Jenetta stared at the Alyysian impassively. Her contact with Alyysian traders had been so limited that she didn't know what telltale signs to look for when trying to determine if they were lying. She knew that all Alyysian were addressed with 'Shev' before their names, much as a Terran would be addressed as Mr. or Mrs., but little else. Typically about four-feet six-inches tall when standing upright, they looked a bit like erect versions of Terran toads. They all wore the same dark gray cloaks that covered most of their yellow skin. Being neither male nor female, the Alyysian were true hermaphrodites and could reproduce without contact with another of their species. “And what will it take to secure her release?” Jenetta asked.

“The Tsgardi are demanding ten thousand credits.”

“Space Command policy is to not negotiate for kidnapped officers or civilians.”

“That's why I haven't approached Space Command. I thought you might be more receptive.”

“I could arrest you for slave trading based on what you've already told me.”

“All I've said is that the Tsgardi are looking to sell your clone. I haven't participated in any trading. You can't charge me with anything and you know it, Commander, so let's stop the games. Are you interested in learning more or not?”

“What's your interest in this?”

“A broker's fee of ten percent for arranging a meeting between the two parties. That's separate from whatever purchase arrangements you settle on. It's based on the asking price, and it's payable in advance.”

Jenetta leaned forward and said angrily, “So you expect me to turn over a thousand credits to you before I've even seen my sister or verified that she's alive?”

“Yes,” it said, quite matter-of-factly. “A thousand credits in a certified draft payable to bearer, or I leave right now.”

Jenetta sat back. She didn't say anything for almost thirty seconds as she stared at the Alyysian. This was the first lead she'd had to Christa's whereabouts. She didn't want to lose an opportunity to recover her, but she wasn't going to pay a cent until she was assured that the information was genuine. “I want proof that these Tsgardi have Christa, and that she's healthy.”

“What kind of proof? A body part?”

“Of course not, but I'm not paying anything until I know this offer is authentic.”

“I'm only an information broker; I don't have any access to your sister. I can't provide any proof that they even have your sister, but you don't pay the Tsgardi if they don't deliver.”

“If I agree, where would the exchange take place?”

“The Tsgardi would deliver her to a mutually agreed upon place. I imagine that the Gollasko colony might be suitable and agreeable to the Tsgardi.”

The Gollasko colony was deep inside the Frontier Zone, much closer to the 'open space' border than the border of Galactic Alliance regulated space. It had no formal justice system, and integrity was defined by the individual fastest with a pistol. It had a deserved reputation for being a wide-open spaceport.

“Yes, I'd agree that the Tsgardi would favor a place such as that.”

“Would you like me to make the arrangements?”

“Tell me, Shev Pallowkith, how did these Tsgardi come to acquire my sister?”

“As I understand, it was in a trade with the ship that captured her at Mawcett. At first they believed her to be you and intended to cash in on the huge reward that the Raiders were offering for you, but they later learned that the million credit bounty of a few years ago had been rescinded and replaced with a reward of just ten thousand credits for your return in good condition. When they further learned that it was only one of your clones, and that the Raiders would only pay two thousand credits for her, they decided that they could do better right here. They know that you've been looking for her.”

“And how fixed is the price? I'm not wealthy, you know?”

“Come, Commander, you published a book that remained at the top of the Galactic Times best-seller list of non-fiction hard-covers for six months. Still, there might be room for negotiation. My fee is fixed, however. Now— are you interested?”

“Yes, it will take me a day to arrange for the draft, and perhaps a couple of weeks to find a ship that will take me to the Gollasko colony.”

“The time arrangements for your trip are between you and the Tsgardi. As soon as you pay my commission fee, I'll put you in touch with the proper intermediary.”

“I'll be back here for lunch tomorrow. We can take care of it then.”

The Alyysian smiled a toothy grin of uneven teeth. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

Sitting in the same booth the following afternoon, Jenetta silently exchanged looks with the Alyysian when it arrived. She then placed a credits draft on the table between them, her hand on top of it.

“Just so there's no misunderstandings later, this one thousand credits is being paid for you to arrange a meeting with the Tsgardi who have my kidnapped sister Christa. This is something that you say you can do, and will do?”

“Of course, Commander. You have my word that your sister will be released to you if you meet the demands of the Tsgardi for ten thousand credits.”

Jenetta lifted her hand and the Alyysian took the draft. It scrutinized the document carefully and seemed satisfied. As it stood up to leave, it said, “I'll let you know of the rendezvous place and time within a few days. At that time I'll give you the contact information so that you can contact the Tsgardi directly. Have the credits ready and be prepared to travel within two weeks.”

Turning, the Alyysian made it halfway to the door before being surrounded by four other restaurant patrons. Identifying themselves as Station Security, the draft was confiscated. The Alyysian continued to protest its innocence of wrong-doing as it was half walked and half dragged to the station's detention center.

Jenetta visited the Alyysian trader in the detention center the next morning. “Good morning, Shev Pallowkith. Did you sleep well?”

“Commander, if you don't release me immediately, you'll never see your sister again.”

“You can drop the phony line, Shev Pallowkith. We know it was a scam to defraud me of a thousand credits. After we parted two days ago, I was able to learn a little about you. Following a series of bad trades you're almost broke. You also haven't made many friends here, so the people that you've associated with were more than willing to talk about you for a few small considerations. Being broke and alone has made you a bit desperate, so you tried this little scam to get the money you need for passage off this station.”

“You're correct that I'm broke, and a little desperate to get off this station, but that's what drove me to approach you. Knowing the risks, if I wasn't desperate I would never have come within three meters of a Spacc officer. My information is correct, even though I'm broke.”

“Really? And just how did you come by this information? You haven't been seen in the company of any Tsgardi recently, and you haven't sent or received any messages since arriving here a month ago. We checked all the station logs.”

“My sources are my livelihood. I won't divulge them.”

“Very well. I've recorded a complete deposition about our two meetings. It will be forwarded to the Galactic Alliance Justice Court, along with you and the voice recordings made from our two encounters. The charge is Conspiracy to Defraud. Since you seem reluctant to cooperate, you'll probably receive the maximum sentence of ten-years, instead of the three-year minimum. Good-bye, Shev Pallowkith.”

Jenetta was halfway out the door of the cell before the Alyysian called to her. “Wait, Commander. I've reconsidered.”

Jenetta turned, walked back into the cell, and stared at the Alyysian.

“Will you promise that I'll receive the minimum sentence if I tell you everything?” Shev Pallowkith asked.

“If I feel that you've been completely truthful, I'll recommend the minimum sentence. I can't promise anything, but the judges normally follow a Base Commander's suggestion on sentencing when the accused pleads guilty.”

Shev Pallowkith looked at Jenetta intently. “I've heard that your word is good so I'll trust you. I was paid a hundred credits to sell you on the idea of traveling to the Gollasko colony. I would be paid an additional five thousand credits the day you left, and I was to keep anything that you would pay me. The money would allow me to get my cargo released from the lousy, no-good, chiseling, freight-hauler that brought me here and I'd be able to start trading again.”

“Who masterminded the plan to get me off the station?”

“I don't know.”

“Why did they want me off the station?”

“Idon't know.”

“Who approached you with this proposition?”

“It was a Tsgardi named Sikata Iqsidrev; at least that's what she called herself. We were never seen together in public. I was escorted to her quarters a few weeks ago by a Terran. She paid me the up-front money and then told me what day to approach you.”

“Where is she now?”