Ep.#3.5 - Escape of the Free Fleet , page 13
* * *
“Then we’re in agreement?” Nathan asked Kit and Jessica, both of whom were sitting across from him at the table in the Aurora’s mess hall.
“As long as you remember that she may be a double-agent for the Korsan,” Kit said.
“Is there any way we can tell for sure?” Nathan asked.
“None,” Jessica replied.
“Only with time,” Kit added. “Even then, if she turned on the Korsan, she could turn on us just as easily. Even after years of appearing to be on our side.”
“So, I have to treat her as if she were a spy forever,” Nathan concluded.
“Pretty much,” Kit confirmed.
“Let me handle her,” Jessica offered.
“What are you going to do, beat the truth out of her?”
“Don’t think for a moment it hasn’t crossed my mind,” Jessica stated. “But no. Spies have to be outsmarted.”
“Are you sure you’re qualified?” Nathan joked.
“I’m pretty sure the Alliance has truth serums, and memory scanners,” Kit reminded them. “They shouldn’t be too hard to get hold of.”
“If she is a spy, she’ll have a way to fool both of them,” Jessica insisted. “The only way to know is to test her. Feed her info and give her opportunities to get that info back to the Korsan.”
“And how do we do that?” Nathan wondered.
“We’ll have to keep her with us, on the Aurora, wherever we go. Take her on away missions, as well.”
“That sounds risky, and not at all like something you would suggest,” Nathan said.
“We should also put a tracker in her,” Jessica added.
“And how do we do that?”
“She’s in medical. Have the doc put it in one of her injections.”
“It’s that small?”
“They’re nanites, Nathan. They form up and combine to make a tracker, once inside,” Jessica explained. “She’ll have no clue.”
“She might,” Kit argued. “If she is a spy, wouldn’t she assume that we’d put a tracker in her? What if she’s already got something in her that prevents trackers from working?”
“An anti-tracker?” Jessica said. “Anything’s possible. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it, though.”
“I’m not crazy about the idea,” Nathan admitted. “But I suppose you’re right.”
“I’ll talk to the doc,” Jessica said.
“No, I will,” Nathan insisted.
* * *
Robert had commanded many ships in his career, and all of them had a small number of crew members. Even the Tanna, the converted Jung destroyer, had only thirty crew in total. But this Expedition-class ship was different. Although she could be operated by a skeleton crew of fifty, her normal compliment was closer to one hundred, with the ability to carry three times that number in times of war.
Yet, the Scott still felt like a small command, if only because he still had a small crew. It was by far the largest ship he had ever commanded, but its corridors were empty of life, with only the occasional interaction with a passing crew member.
He had begun with a crew of eight, just like his first command on one of Earth’s first FTL scout ships. With the addition of Nikolas, the two Dragon pilots, and the Sinocorp pilots, their numbers were now up to thirteen, not including Robert himself. Once they reached the rendezvous point, those numbers, and probably even some of the faces, would change again, as more volunteers from the original staff of the Scott waited for them aboard the Aurora.
Although Corbin and Sydney had quickly taken to their job watching the helm during layovers, running eight-hour shifts around the clock, Robert had taken it upon himself to give them regular breaks. Most times, they simply wanted to visit the head, even though Robert had insisted that they could do so without being relieved. After all, the Aurora was now connected to both the Seiiki’s and the Mirai’s sensors and would take whatever action was necessary to protect the ship, with or without a pilot at her helm. But neither of them had heeded his concessions, waiting until properly relieved before leaving their post.
“Ready for a break?” Robert asked Corbin as he entered the bridge.
“I’m good, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me sir all the time,” Robert insisted. “This isn’t a commissioned vessel, yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Robert sighed, looking out the forward windows. “Hell of a view, isn’t it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mind if I ask you a question, son?” Robert asked, taking a seat in the command chair.
“Of course, sir.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what, sir?”
“You know what I mean,” Robert insisted.
“It beats sitting around in my quarters on the Aurora,” Corbin explained. “Plus, I get to travel further out than any human has ever gone.”
“Well, not exactly,” Robert corrected. “A few of us have already been there, and there is a survey team there already.”
“So, I will have piloted a starship further out into the galaxy than any human has before.”
“That would be more accurate,” Robert agreed.
“To be honest, sir, my other options weren’t that good.”
“What do you mean? You’re a trained pilot. Surely there are plenty of good careers for an experienced, professional pilot.”
“There are, but they just aren’t that interesting,” Corbin explained. “Ninety percent of them are just babysitting AIs. Flying tourists up to orbit and back in the Tara and the Arianna was more hands-on flying than most pilots ever get to do.”
“I would have thought they required you to use the shuttles’ AIs,” Robert said.
“Only as backups,” Corbin explained. “They’re too old to be certified for passenger hauling. And the passengers liked the feeling of a human at the controls. More exciting than the smooth, boring ride from an AI pilot.”
“So, you see this as a way to have a more interesting career as a pilot?”
“Something like that,” Corbin confirmed. “Of course, I’m back to babysitting an AI again, at least for now.”
“That will change, trust me,” Robert assured him.
* * *
“You’re asking me to inject a non-therapeutic into my patient’s blood stream,” Doctor Barra objected.
“It’s just nanites, Doctor,” Nathan assured her. “They won’t harm her.”
“They won’t help her, either.”
“I can order one of the med-techs do it,” Nathan told her. “But I think it would raise less suspicion if you gave the injection, since you’ve been giving her injections for the last few days.”
“It just doesn’t feel right to me,” Doctor Barra stated.
“I understand. But you must remember that being a doctor aboard a ship like this is very different than being in private practice. Sometimes, we are required to do things that we don’t want to do. Things that we know are wrong, but we do them nonetheless, because we know they must be done. At least what I’m asking you to do is harmless.”
“You are asking me to betray my patient’s trust,” Doctor Barra told him. “That is something I do not take lightly.”
“I wish I didn’t have to,” Nathan assured her. “The truth is we need this woman’s help, but trusting her is risky. The tracker will help us mitigate that risk.”
“You’re asking me to help you spy on her,” Doctor Barra stated.
“The device will only tell us her location, nothing more. I swear it.”
Doctor Barra stared at Nathan a moment. The truth was, giving the injection didn’t bother her all that much. She just didn’t want this man she hardly knew, to think she would just roll over and do whatever he told her to one of her patients, lest he ask her to do something even worse. “Very well, Captain.”
Nathan pulled the vial out of his pocket, handing it to the doctor.
“And you’re certain this is safe?”
“The Ghatazhak have been using it for years,” Nathan told her. “They use it to track one another during battle.”
“What about you and your crew?” she wondered. “Do you have trackers in you?”
“We’re tracked by our comm-sets,” Nathan replied, pointing to the comm-set hanging on his left ear. “As are you.”
“Remind me to remove it when I go to the bathroom,” she joked.
“You mean the head.”
“Ah, yes, the head,” she remembered, taking the vial and heading to the next room.
* * *
“Dude, if that engine had fired at even one percent,” Josh said as he started his sensor sweep in his Dragon.
“I know, I know,” Nikolas assured him over comms.
“Then why didn’t you hightail it out of there?”
“I figured they wouldn’t fire their mains again until after they had passed through the gate,” Nikolas explained.
“But you couldn’t know that,” Josh pointed out.
“No, but I remembered my mom talking about that once, back before I enlisted. Something about ships just coasting through the jump gate.”
The threat light on Josh’s tactical display suddenly flashed one time, but then no more. “What the…”
“Something wrong?” Nikolas asked.
“I’m not sure. Sweetie, did you detect something?”
“Momentarily, yes,” his AI confirmed. “A small object, fast moving, but it was only present for a few seconds before it jumped away.”
“A ship?” Josh wondered. “Maybe something doing a series jump?”
“The object detected was too small to be a ship,” His AI stated.
“Small and fast, and jumping in a few seconds?” Nikolas said. “Sounds like a drone to me. Maybe a comm-drone?”
“Or a sensor drone,” Josh added.
“A sensor drone would have required at least five seconds to get an accurate scan of the area using passive sensors, and there were no sensor emissions detected,” his AI reported.
“I don’t suppose you were able to get enough of a fix to follow it,” Josh asked.
“Negative.”
“I’m sure it was just a comm-drone,” Nikolas insisted.
“Even we have subspace comms, Remo,” Josh argued. “Why would anyone be using a comm-drone these days?”
“We’re not in Alliance space, Josh,” Nikolas replied. “Whoever is using it probably doesn’t have access to an AICC node.”
“We’re not that far outside of Alliance space,” Josh mumbled.
“Well, all we can do is report it,” Nikolas said.
“I know, and I hate that.”
* * *
“I’m here to see if you’re feeling better,” Nathan said.
Annori slid back a bit in her bed to sit more upright for the conversation. “Thank you, Captain. A few more days, and I’ll be back on my feet.”
“No hurry,” Nathan assured her. “Do you feel up to some more questions?”
“Of course,” Annori replied.
“In our last conversation, you said the Alliance gifted two large warships to the Korsan.”
“Yes, the Kamphuis and the Deol.”
“Are you saying that the Korsan and the Alliance are in some kind of partnership?” Nathan asked.
“It is not a partnership,” Annori stated with confidence. “The Alliance created the Korsan.”
“To what end?”
“Would you like the short version, or the full historical perspective?”
“Whatever you wish,” Nathan replied.
Annori took a deep breath before continuing. “After the great war, the people began to resent the size and scope of the Alliance, especially their tendency to force member worlds to yield to their will. Dissent rose, and rumors of secession turned into movements on several worlds. Mostly those on the outer rim of Alliance space, who were less dependent on the trade that membership provided. Around this time, talk of interdimensional instability began. Within a few decades, I.D.I. had grown from being a theory to being accepted science, thanks to the increase in the number of rogue gravity wells and unstable transient singularities. Dozens of ships were lost to the growing number of anomalies, and the Alliance had no choice but to limit all jumps to under ten light years.”
“That had to be a hard pill for people to swallow,” Nathan observed. “The impact on trade alone would have been a nightmare.”
“Indeed, it was,” Annori confirmed. “But to combat this, the Alliance instituted a rapid expansion of its gate network. Within a decade, every world greater than one hundred light years from another was equipped with a gate. Within a few more decades, that number grew to include every world more than ten light years away. In essence, every world was no more than a few hours journey from every other world in the Alliance, and all without having to jump more than ten light years. In fact, the gate system worked so well that series-jump capabilities became obsolete, and most ships had no jump drive at all. But this created a dependency on the Alliance and its vast network of gates.”
“Let me guess,” Nathan interrupted. “Trade flourished, and people began to accept the level of control the Alliance exerted over them because they liked having access to so many goods at affordable prices.”
“Very good, Captain.”
“It’s a time-tested strategy,” Nathan assured her.
“With all talk of secession no longer seeing the light of day, those who still resisted Alliance control over their worlds began migrating out of the Alliance, settling worlds beyond its borders. This movement grew over time, and eventually the Alliance saw it as a threat.”
“So, they created a pirate problem to scare people so they wouldn’t migrate out?” Jessica questioned.
“Not exactly,” Annori corrected. “Pirates already existed, they just weren’t as numerous, nor as organized as they are now. The Alliance simply acted upon a pre-existing fear of piracy, one that seemed to keep the more timid from migrating themselves. Once the new worlds in the fringe began to thrive, and life there began to rival the quality of life one had on an Alliance world, they had to do something to slow the migration, lest they lose their tax-base.”
“So, they created the Korsan,” Nathan surmised.
“Yes, but not in the way one might think,” Annori replied. “They began sending ships and weapons to various pirate clans—covertly, of course—and then set them against one another by executing a series of false-flag operations. Soon, the pirates were fighting one another, and the need for a strong victor to control them all was born. The Korsan already existed. The only thing that set them apart from all the other clans was their willingness to assume that position. The Alliance provided the Korsan with more weapons than they had given to the other clans, and soon order replaced the chaos they had created.”
“It seems like a lot of effort and expense,” Jessica commented. “I mean, all they did was move a pile of dirt from one location to another.”
“It was more than that,” Annori assured her. “They created a method of controlling the pirates in order to help them meet their ultimate goal.”
“Which was?” Nathan asked.
“To eventually bring all the new worlds into the Alliance.”
“By leasing them gates,” Nathan surmised.
“Indeed. Get them hooked on a better life, then raise the lease-rate on the gate so that they’d have no choice but to apply for membership, and all the rules and regulations that come along with it.”
“So, the Alliance is just another big extortion ring,” Jessica realized. “Fuck me. That’s beyond evil.”
“To them, it’s just business,” Annori assured her. “A very lucrative business.”
“How is it lucrative?” Nathan wondered. “Governments must answer to the people. If they are lining their accounts with tax-funds, the inevitable conclusion is revolt.”
“Oh, Alliance tax-rates are quite reasonable, all things considered,” Annori stated. “In fact, they are one of the lowest in the galaxy.”
“Then where are they getting their profits?” Jessica wondered.
“From their corporate partners, of course,” Annori stated as if it should be obvious.
“Let me guess,” Nathan said. “SilTek?”
“Among others,” Annori confirmed. “But SilTek is the largest and most powerful. Some even believe they control the AIs that the Alliance uses to manage things. The corporate partners pay hefty taxes, most of which pay for the expansion of the gate network to include prospective worlds in the fringe, and in some cases, well beyond.”
“Which, in turn, opens up new markets and increases their profits,” Nathan commented.
“Correct. And the amazing thing is that no one complains about this. The corporations practically run the Alliance, but because everyone lives comfortably and safe, they don’t care.”
“But there are still a lot of people migrating out of Alliance space,” Nathan said.
“With the help of corporations like SilTek, Sinocorp, Ambastaad, and others, all of whom manufacture ships, colonization equipment, quick-erect buildings, heavy machinery, and everything else needed to settle new worlds. The Alliance even provides transportation for the colonists.”
“All to ensure their own growth.”
“In another five hundred years, the entire galaxy will, most likely, be under Alliance control,” Annori stated.
“Then what are they going to do?” Jessica wondered. “Start colonizing other galaxies?”
Both Annori and Nathan looked at her.
“I was joking,” Jessica insisted.
“The Alliance cannot allow any world, or group of worlds, to become more prosperous, and therefore more powerful than them,” Annori stated.
“It was my understanding that the Alliance doesn’t even maintain a sizable military.”
“Not as large as you would expect,” Annori confirmed, “but formidable, nonetheless. After the war, they switched to a smaller, better trained and better equipped force. They call them the Zhulati. Highly trained, properly equipped, and all of them lifers. They are ruthless and fiercely loyal.”
