Chapter 7
Diana unwound from her meditative pose. Between her dreams that had been too cryptic, and the information her visit to Port Y had brought, her brain had been going in circles with nothing that made sense, so she meditated.
On Port Y she went looking for an old friend who had her finger to the pulse of most of Port Y, her visitors, and gossip on docks. Queenie Kamacu was what many called
the Madam. She ran a very tight house of pleasure that neither employees nor customers would want to cross, not even the pirates that had the misfortune to find out what her past was about. Her past gave her the resources she needed to keep her rules in abeyance. Her stable of males, females and in betweens were healthy, clean and didn't do drugs. She wanted them cognizant of who they were working for, and it wasn't their drug dealer. Drug dealers and customers knew not to bring any substance onto her premises or to deal to what she considered her family.
Queenie Kamacu didn't look any older than her ancient self and if you could translate her nonverbal replies you were rewarded with information others would pay a lot of credits for. Her species had wondrously thick and curly eyebrows that were like locks of hair to some people. The two giggled like school girls before getting down to some serious talk, which was all on Diana's side, but Queenie was a good friend and knew what Diana needed to know to stay safe.
Queenie's suggestion of finding another ship was met with a dour look from Diana who never ran from an adventure. Though Queenie wouldn't tell her just what it was that was coming
Wesley's way, it wasn't something that the captain couldn't handle she assured Diana. If it were, Queenie would have been more insistent that she find another ship. Queenie in another life had been Diana's mentor in the higher levels of a mortleige.
Maybe she was hinting at a pirate boarding. Diana frowned as she thought about how that could come about. System failures were plaguing the
Wesley so that could be a possibility. Passenger wanderings had been curtailed so a lockdown for inside assistance would be limited to crew. Now that was a real possibility. There were a handful with shoddy backgrounds though nothing on their records recently. So, what precaution did she need to stay safe? That question brought a wide grin to her face. Now she felt ready to tackle the questions she was coming up with. She got up and walked around to get her blood moving.
What did Friz almost say about the Carrion? "It doesn't matter if they're now locked up on their deck after midnight bells. They'll find a way just like…" Was he implying that wherever they wanted to get to they did or was he implying someone else did and they would too? What's so important about the pin he won from them? What's so important about the charm the Carrion won from Cuzon that they don't want to give back even if it's an even trade?
She glanced at the kiosk and wondered if she wanted to invade the computer files of the ship. From ship scuttlebutt, they had a geek that was very good at spotting unauthorized access into his systems. Did she want to risk seeing just how good he was? If the captain was alerted then any hope of getting on her good side from that moment on, should her assistance be needed, would take too much valuable time to do so.
Diana went to her bag and pulled out a small chip from a case that held five. They were color coded. She opened up the console and inserted the chip in an empty bank. She logged on and waited for the chip to give her a logon screen.
Diana rubbed her hands at the anticipated screen and began her troll work. Quickly her program searched out key words. Reports were read, processed through a filter that identified problems, and then people were located. Once she had an idea of what may be going on she logged off. She removed her chip and sat down for further thought.
Okay, I think I have an inkling of what's going on. They have a program running in the background. I see it's been deleted numerous times and it reasserts itself. Instead of deleting it again, why no find out what it's primary goal is? One of its tasks is to change the environment to a tropical temperature. Why? Preparing the ship's personnel for a weather change, or getting it ready for a species that needs to have a tropical temperature? I can't recall a pirate group that is tropical.
Second task is to neutralize ship inhabitants. I would have thought it meant to kill if there wasn't a tally of sleep pods given and with the number of people on board. How will this program get everyone into a sleep pod?
Third task is to awake the disciples and send them on a mission.
What I need to do is figure out how to get into the programs subroutines and find out who the disciples are and what the mission is.
That was something Ati was good at.
Has the ships geek accessed this program?
I wonder if the captain would tell me. A bit of a slight of hand could get me that information…unless she's savy to inductions.
So many questions and so little time. This was going to be a good break from her usual routine.
* * *
"Captain?" Corey's voice roused her from her perusal of the ships logs she was studying while sitting watch.
"Yes, Ensign."
"We have one of those strange anomalies again. On channel c."
Quickly O'Rourke tapped into her console. "I don't see it."
"It's there," she assured her.
O'Rourke quickly moved to Corey's workstation, staring at just what she was reporting. O'Rourke tapped her com. "Commander Sousa."
"I got it Captain. It's occurring on four workstations. I see the source too. Engineering. We'll take care of it," she guaranteed.
"Keep me appraised," O'Rourke reminded her. "Good eye, Ensign."
"Captain," she began hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"I…ah…we've all been seeing them, Ma'am."
"Who's we?"
"Comm and TAC."
"You haven't reported it?"
"We did, to Commander LeMarks. He said you didn't what to hear what we couldn't trace."
Lt. Hoi nodded in agreement.
"Not a good excuse since you work the bridge with me. I'm captain, just in case you've forgotten."
The two had the grace to look embarrassed. "We thought we were following protocol, Captain," Hoi replied. "He was our CO."
"This is a good lesson for us all then," she returned. "I want all anomalies that occur on shifts documented. That's standard protocol. It doesn't have to be proveable."
The two looked at her alarmed.
"Even PO Drummon," she informed them.
PO Drummon was known to see things that no one else could and he learned to not mention it because his previous COs didn't believe him. When he came aboard
Wesley, transferred as a deadbeat, Lt. Commander Jade took him under her wing, seeing something others could not. He blossomed but his past was difficult to leave behind with his crewmates. O'Rourke okayed him to work under Jade for whatever assignment she transferred him to. PO Drummon found his place in security, according to Jade. He must have been inspired because he passed the ratings tests.
PO Drummon was a hybridmix species. Of what and how many species, only a chemical scan could tell. From what O'Rourke surmised was that either his mother's side of the family were for a hundred generations prostitutes at one of the busy space ports or he came out of a science lab. Whatever he was, he was hardworking and picked up skills quickly and just as quickly discarded them bored. Security work, according to Jade, suited him fine due to the many coats and hats it was necessary to wear. There were only three people that knew Drummon was their 'sneaker'. At every port he disappeared, returning when the ship was due to leave.
Jade called them exercises to build up his skills. According to his reports, he was able to gather enough information on some pivotal people to influence them if it came to that.
"He sees things, Captain," an embolded ensign informed her.
"Do you know them to not be there?"
The two snorted. "We don't see them."
"Have you two ever seen an apparition?"
"No, Ma'am," they both answered.
"Do you believe in them?"
"Yes, Ma'am," they answered.
"Well, it's the same thing. Some people can see it and some can't. But because you can't doesn't make it untrue. And because your instrumentation can't regester it doesn't mean its not there."
"Captain O'Rourke of the freighter Wesley
," a sneering voice hailed her.
"Pretend you didn't hear, Ensign. O'Rourke to engineering."
"Engineering here, Captain."
"How long?"
There was a long pause. "We have one more ship to go. Captain, this one has the same marks along the outside hull as two others we've worked on. Nothing serious but…could have been."
"Pirates?"
"Something that was meant to scare," Susa responded.
"Get an idea what it is and let's be prepared ourselves."
"We're already working on it. I'll let Commander Jade know."
"I'll do it myself."
"Alright. Give me another thirty minutes…maybe less."
"O'Rourke!" the voice demanded.
"Turn him off."
She leaned back in her seat and watched her monitor that showed the
Harrodidu waiting for a berth.
"Commander Claw to Captain O'Rourke of the
Wesley," a voice on ship to shore channel hailed.
"Captain O'Rourke to Commander Claw. Greetings. What can I do for you?"
"You have a very upset Captain Alad of the
Harrodidu wanting to speak with you. I wanted to warn you, the harbormaster authorized us giving you his berth so he may take it out on you. We have a legal right since was late, but you know how it goes."
"We'll be done in about thirty minutes. Is that good with you?"
"Yes. He's leaking something so we can have an inspection to take up that time. We received a transmitted request that you peel to Otoo's Re and meet up with
Raptor Cinq. They're reporting trouble and need a fix. Think you can fit them in?"
"Did they say what kind of trouble?" she asked cautiously.
"You notice anything interesting about the ships you've been repairing lately?"
"Burns across the side hull. Pirate activity heating up in this sector?"
"Not really sure. More like bullies. Could be just a gang trying to move in or it could be pirates… Harbormaster Ofensa say's Tipps is a pirate with a long memory. I hear you have a past with him."
O'Rourke nearly laughed aloud. So, what she suspected was confirmed. Harbormaster Ofensa was a fast worker, or someone wanted her to know what this was all about.
It was a personal vendetta. That made it easier for her to go against because it left Tipps closed to advisors that may tell him it was bad for business. Which meant he was spending a lot of credits and energy for the last three years all because she, among many others, shut down his operations with arrests, and seizures. Those not caught up in the net scattered. She was sure many died from the retributions. Pirate leaders kept their leadership by knowing who to cut off and who to back.
* * *
O'Rourke looked around the meeting table. "So, what do you think is happening?" she asked after a one hour review of reports was given. Officers and NCOs looked down at their notepads. No one seemed to be willing to stick their neck out.
Commander Sousa rolled her eyes and offered, "A virus it's not," she stated flatly. "Someone is remotely logging in but from within the ship. They've accessed the security kiosks, engineering, and spoofed the captain's chair…when you weren't there," she hastily informed O'Rourke.
"So, what are we doing about it?" O'Rourke asked her.
"The geek has crashed the system twice and chased the remote logon but it just disappears to reappear else where."
O'Rourke tapped her com channel. "Bridge, this is the captain."
"Ensign Hale, Captain."
"How long until intercept of the
Raptor?"
"We should have been in sight of her five minutes ago, Captain but we haven't picked up anything."
"She could be lying dead from lack of power. Try sending out visual sensors instead of sound."
"Aye, Captain."
"Give it five minutes. If you have nothing, check back with me."
"Aye, Captain."
When bridge logged out, the others let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps they thought O'Rourke was going to talk about something else that was weighting heavily on their minds.
"Captain, are we going to still get our visit to the shipyard?" CPO Haywar asked boldly.
"Yes. A three to four week berth at the shipyard. We have rooms at the Hopsvar on deck 6 at the yard. You'll be sharing quarters with the same people as on the ship. If you want to make other arrangements, start thinking about it. The cost has been prepaid by the Osmona, her last good deed before turning us over to Tipps."
"Should we go looking for new jobs, Captain?"
"If you stick with me we won't be without a ship or jobs. I happen to like being a captain. Do you like your job?"
CPO Haywar looked embarrassed. O'Rourke held back the grin that would only make him turn bright green.
"Well, at one time, I didn't see this as my life work." He glanced at PO Asten who had romantic designs on him, "but now, I like the community. We're a family, Capt. Though…"
"You can't see kids running underfoot," she finished.
"We know you're an O'Rourke, and they travel with their families and all…" his voice trailed off.
"You think we should start our own tribe?" Being honest with herself, she had thought of that too the first time she set eyes on the
Wesley. Osmona chosing her as the captain was not by happenstance. The two loved the
Wesley and saw great potential for her in her new redesign and dual role as freighter and ship repair.
Sousa spoke up first. "I wouldn't mind. Our route would be the same so if our families don't want to travel they can setup home at one of our stops." She glanced at O'Rourke, nearly smirking at the memory of O'Rourke's last romantic interest. It seemed the fair lady had a girlfriend on nearly every ship that docked.
"Well, we have a year and a half to think about it. We'll play by their rules until then, provided it's not cutting our throats, or breaking any contracts. Let your groups know in a month I'll have the pros and cons for you. If anyone else wants to bring their ideas to the table, and doesn't want you as their spokesperson, let me know. Everyone that wants to remain has to be productive and prove their worth." She paused to let that sink in. Everyone knew she was firm on everyone pulling their own weight and for those with a bad past, she encouraged their efforts to turn their lives around. However, those that crossed her, disappeared.
"It's not going to be easy at first because the rules will be different when we're on our own, and we may lose some of our present customers. You know how they are about dealing with small outfits. And we won't have someone to pull us out of financial problems. It'll be pay as I go. If I don't have it, I'll think long and hard about incurring debit."
Her eyes moved around the table looking for nods.
"All officers, NCOs, and merchant seaman need to get certified within the week. If anyone needs help, that's your job to help them. That hasn't changed. It will also improve your skills. We work together." She waited for everyone to nod their heads again.
"Captain, Obermans' Shipping, all of them had to put up credits of their own to be part of the company. How much do we have to put up?"
"I'll have the figures in a month. Like I said, either we can do it or no. But even if I have to buy a ship myself, I'll have a ship for us in a year and a half."
"Gonna steal one?" Sousa teased.
O'Rourke laughed.
"Captain?"
"Yes, ensign?"
"I haven't seen Commander Jade. Is she alright?"
O'Rourke nodded her head. "She's occupied on a special project. Lt. Marks, how is security doing?"
He looked surprised and gulped. He had gone from bridge to head of security until Commander Jade returned and he was surprised at how much changed since he had last been in security.
"We're working, Captain. Commander Jade has a good program in place. Everyone is doing their jobs and with Commander Sousa's help, we're going to get this allusive hacker."
"Good. Any further questions? Then dismissed."
Everyone left, no one remained behind. Their thoughts were on being masters of their own ship, she guessed.
She turned her chair to face the star chart behind her. It showed where they were as a blinking light. They were too close to another space sector. O'Rourke had never been this close to Jepsen Sector. She expected warning beacons ran along the perimeter that would warn them they were too close. A military patrol usually was nearby only to warn or remind the ship crossing over that Jepsen was an unexplored sector and no one was known to return.
Wesley was too vulnerable to be traipsing around in unfamiliar space.
"Bridge, this is the captain. Status?"
"Can't find her, Captain. I've sent every sensor I could out there."
"Head for our next destination. It may have been a false call. Leave a few snoopers behind."
"Increase speed, Captain?"
She stared at the star chart looking to see how their path had altered due to their search. "I want you to back tract at 6gs to CC43, then slow to 4 and resume our normal headings. We'll be on time for our next stop."
"Aye, aye, Capt."
She turned at the knock on the door. It was Diana Rue. She had forgotten that she had invited her to have lunch with her.
"Am I interrupting?" Diana stared at the star chart. "I hope you're not moving into that area of space."
"What?"
"C48MC22. More ships have been reported missing there than in any pirate sector… only it's not a pirate sector."
"I've never heard of that."
"Have you traveled through it?"
"No. It's been off our beaten path. I never heard of anyone traveling there."
"It's dock rats scuttlebutt along the scattering military outposts. I'm a knock about, we hear all sorts of things."
"Over lunch, do you mind telling me about some of them?"
Diana nodded, her eyes drifted back to the chart to assure herself that they were moving away from the Jepsen Sector. She had chased someone into that uncharted zone and didn't want to repeat a visit.
* * *
"There's a lot of happy people about, with the exception of a few of your passengers. I noticed a group of them are nervous about those teenagers," Diana mentioned to PO 3rd Class M'Bla who was a head of her in the food line.
That got a chuckle. "Those six nervous passengers are part of that new religion that's been recruiting with too much fervor in Hansen's Reach. The colonial government gave them the chance at martyred death or get out and don't come back. They're all male and see females as a threat to 'male' peace of mind."
"You mean they can't control their thoughts so they blame it on someone else."
"Yeah. Klinga said their uncle who was going to meet them in his ship was waylaid. They're to meet him up at LoMace Space Station where he's undergoing ship repair," PO 3rd Class M'Bla elaborated.
Diana looked back at the captain. O'Rourke had fallen behind as she inspected each dish she carefully.
"What do you think she's looking for?" Diana asked M'Bla.
"Citir. Cook loves to add it to everything she cooks, and the captain absolutely hates it."
"Ahh." That explained why she learned to cook
. "So," she said to change the subject, "I guess our games will continue then," she smiled hopefully. It was really a great place for picking up what was happening on the ship, like the fact that no had seen Commander Jade for days and the captain was unconcerned. Supposedly they were close friends but not intimately close.
"Well, don't expect Klinga to be joining us. The captain moved curfew for deck four, the tourist's deck, to 2100 bells, which is probably why those NeoNicks are nervous. Can you image being stuck in one of those tiny cabins for seven days and when you do come out, the very image you created as your downfall is before you?" She laughed heartily. "You really lucked out in getting the Q, Diana, but I already know you have a lot of that."
"It's skill, not luck," Diana told her firmly.
"Call it what you like. I'll see you tomorrow night, same place. Good day, Captain." She greeted O'Rourke who moved to Diana's side.
"Back to gambling with my crew?" O'Rourke asked.
"I like to see how long it takes to reel in a shark," Diana grinned.
"Catch anything yet?"
"Oh, yeah. Only I keep throwing them back in. Too little. I'm waiting for the big one."
O'Rourke sat at the table nearest the door but in a corner. "Who's that?"
"The one that's waiting me out. He's there every game and just watches. That's the big one."
"Who plays?"
"Well," Diana took a bite of what was labeled lamb stew. "Hmm. This is good." She laid her fork down and thought about the people at the table, and those standing to the side, as if waiting for something.
"There's M'Bla, Friz, Hedoc, Cromam, who spends more time folding then playing, Klinga, the cromatin adolescent - who plays like a pro and if looks cold kill would have slain Cromam long ago, and Mahop. They're the regulars. Others hop in when they step out."
"So, who is the big shark?"
"Bronot."
O'Rourke chewed her food for a while. He was a transfer from the
Rollins. When she contacted Captain Mul to get some additional information on him, she received a terse "He's not refundable. Your HQ picked up his contract cheap, and you get what you pay for." End of conversation. He was another example of HQ's dumping other people's rejects on her. According to Killian there were six that were illegally assigned her and Bronot was one. He was still on probation so maybe that's why he was keeping a low profile.
"A professional gambler?" she asked Diana.
"If it's the same person I heard about on Indi. He likes to suck his opponents bone dry. He preys on those with a gambling weakness. Likes to see people cry."
"Meaning, he only likes to gamble with what another considers too valuable for gambling."
"Yes. He then sells it to someone that can hurt the loser with it."
"Why?" Her startled question had Diana lifting a quizzical eyebrow. "I mean, I've met a lot of people that kill because they like to see the last spark of life leave someone's eyes, or people that torture because they like to see someone lose their dignity..." O'Rourke stopped, realizing she was sharing more than she wanted to.
"People without conscience need something to let them know they're present. When they have no feelings for themselves or others it's because their pleasure center in the brain didn't develop. The only intense thing they feel is pain, and like any other drug addict, they need a fix to let them know they aren't walking in the gray world. For people that give pain to others, they're so removed from feeling that they need others to scream and cry the pain for them."
"You run into many of those people?" O'Rourke asked.
"It's from self preservation that I've learned to observe people, and separate out species, gender, and culture predisposition to know a psycho from the others. But there is a quicker way to tell."
"Please, don't keep me in this high suspense," O'Rourke said.
"What your gut tells you."
O'Rourke laughed and chewed her food for a few moments. "Well, that would be half my crew and I think I've been proven wrong on half of that group."
Diana studied the captain for a long moment, wondering if it would be too forward to make another personal comment. How many was she allowed in a week?
"Just say it," O'Rourke told her without looking up from her salad.
Diana's lips twitched into a partial smile. "Okay. I don't think you made a mistake. I think you lowered your expectations to make it work."
O'Rourke stared at her for a few moments and then nodded. "You're really good at this stuff. It's part of a captain's job to see that her crew is a cohesive and flexible team. After all that is said and done," she grinned ruefully, "I liked the military model better where there are rules and regulations. It didn't matter the personality clashes, when an order was given, it was obeyed, and as quickly as possible."
"And it doesn't work that way with civilians," Diana commented.
"Different code of work ethics." She was quiet for a few moments as she chewed.
Diana waited patiently.
"I was different when I was in the military. The consequences I dealt out were harsh. When you're at war with a group like pirates and gangs, you know that there are going to be spies amongst your crew. So you lay down hard consequences to anyone that works with the enemy. The ones to worry about are the plants among your crew, posing as someone that will watch your back."
"It's all about survival," Diana said. "Scuttlebutt on Port Y is that Tipps is going to sell the
Wesley out from under you."
"He thinks he can," O'Rourke agreed.
Diana grinned. "I'm glad you have that covered."
O'Rourke raised an eyebrow but didn't ask for further elaboration. Diana's observation had her rethinking about what crew members she was not going to offer a job to and where she was going to go to fill in their slot.
Conversation for the rest of lunch was comparing musical tastes. O'Rourke had never heard of any of the artists Diana mentioned and Diana was wondering if O'Rourke made up some of the names she came up with.
Lunch was pleasant.
Continued...