What May Come

Please see chapter 1 for author's notes.

Thank you to closet caser for your encouragement.

Chapter 9: The Best Laid Plans

Goddard sat up yawning, glancing at the chronometer to confirm that his crew hadn't let him oversleep. They hadn't—it had only been about two hours since he'd laid down on one of the spare bunks in Aslinn and Jacie's bunkroom. Two hours would have to do, he decided after a moment. As much as he needed the rest, he hated the time that it took away from planning a rescue effort. Not that there was all that much they could actually plan at this point, he admitted to himself. Without knowing anything about where their crew was being taken, everything they were doing was guesswork. The best they could do was try to make reasonable guesses and as many contingency plans as possible. And hope that one of them would apply when they found out where the rest of the crew was. Honestly, it was more of an effort to keep their minds engaged in something besides worrying than anything else. He knocked lightly on the door to the command post, and then opened the hatch.

"Hello," Aslinn said, frowning slightly.

"Would it be all right if I…?" he asked, gesturing into the room.

"Oh, sure, come on up. Are you guys done planning for now?"

"Oh, no, I just took a quick break. Didn't sleep at all last night." Goddard dropped into the unoccupied chair, glancing at the panel in front of him. It looked identical to the one in front of Aslinn, sitting off to his right. Their command post was narrow—probably six feet deep at the most, and the control panels took up most of that—but it was nearly as wide as the front of the ship. "I don't think I've ever seen a layout quite like this."

"We're big fans of redundancy. Either of us can perform all shipboard operation from our own panels…normally we split up who's doing what, but if one gets slagged there's a backup right on hand."

"And one of you stays at the controls at all times? That has to be hard with only a crew of two."

"We have an AI, but it is an old ship…we feel better with someone at the helm when the main engines are actually engaged and running at anything above a crawl. Normally both of us would be up here and we'd play a game or something, but he's back going over plans with the other two. Last thing I heard was some crazy scheme about breaking into a Spung computer network and tracing your crew."

"Is that even possible?"

"Not for us. Probably not for any In'Tssai, even if they do have security access. The Spung aren't stupid—arrogant, absolutely, but idiots don't build galactic empires—and they're paranoid enough to track what information people are accessing. If prisoners start disappearing suddenly after a particular person looks up their files…well, what do you think would happen?"

Goddard nodded. "I see your point. I don't suppose you've gotten any information about the others yet?"

"Sorry, nothing yet. There are a couple levels information is passing through…we've heard from all our immediate contacts, and almost all of the secondary, but getting messages from the ones deeper in the empire will take longer. Probably catch a few more about the same time we meet up with the deckship."

He nodded again, standing. "All right. I'd best go help the others. Thank you."

"No problem."

Harlan, Radu, and Jacie were clustered around one of the monitors when he entered the room, gesturing at points on the screen.

"Shut it behind you," Jacie called absently without turning from the image.

"Commander? I thought you were going to rest?"

"I did, Mr. Band, but now we have to make some plans. Have you come up with anything?"

"Well, kind of," Harlan responded after a moment. "If we can get onto one of their stations, we think we can use their own monitoring systems against them."

Goddard moved closer, nodding as Harlan sketched out the details. "That sounds like a solid idea."

"And it should work with whatever kind of station their on," Radu put in. "Since both the quarantine stations and the military bases—at least the one we have to look at—have several individual stations with only a few Spung in each."

"Good work, you three," Goddard agreed.

"Well…" Harlan made a face. "It won't really do us any good if we can't figure out how to get onto the station in the first place. None of us have come up with a good plan for that. I thought faking engine trouble was a good idea—"

"Only if you want to get us all killed," Jacie cut in. "Trust me—they don't care. If we're lucky they'll just hit us with a frag cannon and end it quickly. I we're not lucky, they'll send a boarding party and we'll all end up guests of the empire and needing rescue ourselves. Not going to happen."

"They can't possibly attack every ship that approaches needing repairs," Goddard objected. "They'd decimate their own fleet."

"Well, if we were in a Killcruiser, or an obviously Spung ship we might have a chance," he admitted reluctantly, "but not in an outdated UPP-origin salvage vessel with no ties to the empire. Bad enough that we're probably going to be so deep in the empire that our existence alone will raise questions if we're noticed…actually approaching a military base is suicide."

"Well, we've got to come up with something," Harlan snapped. "I mean, it won't do any good knowing where they are if we can't even figure out a way to get to them!"

Goddard pulled up another chair. "What about disguising the ship as something else? A courier, maybe? Most of them are fairly small, and at least in the UPP there is no specific class of vessels used for shuttling individuals between stations."

"We'd need orders or something though, wouldn't we?" Radu asked. "I m-mean, we'd still need an excuse to be going there."

"We won the lottery and are out to see the galaxy," Harlan said with an attempt at a grin.

Two puzzled faces turned to the human teenager, and Goddard shook his head. "It's a contest back on Earth where people gamble to win large amounts of money. Travel is one of the more common ways to spending the winnings."

"I don't think the Spung have that," Jacie said after a moment. "And I don't think 'seeing the galaxy' is a good enough excuse to come onboard a Spung military installation.

"I was joking. And you haven't come up with anything better."

"What about stealing a ship?" Radu put in hurriedly as Jacie opened his mouth to respond, eyes flashing.

"What?" Jacie turned to stare at him.

"Huh?" Harlan said at the same time.

"You said this one will stand out…let's find one that won't. Maybe one they'd even let dock."

"We can't just steal a ship!" Harlan protested. "They'll kind of notice."

"They'll have half the local patrol after us," Jacie agreed. "That'll get us killed even quicker than his idea!"

"Hey!"

"It's not a bad thought, though," Goddard said after a moment. "Well, I don't think stealing a ship is the best idea, but getting a ship that can travel openly would be a good thing. Surely there are places that rent small transports to civilians for short periods of time, especially in populated areas."

"Probably…I never had much to do with anything outside the military," Jacie responded after a moment.

"Umm…nothing changes the fact that we're human and Andromedan—and Ashrach," Harlan pointed out. "The Spung might not be too thrilled about renting to us, even short-range craft."

"I can't afford to let them see me, and I know Aslinn doesn't feel much like showing his face either. I'm fairly sure we're developing a 'malfunctioning' viewscreen the moment we enter their territory. A strategically placed cloak as we change ships and so as far as they're concerned, we will be Spung."

"We'll need credit or something to get a ship," Goddard said after a moment. "Unless you have a credit account with the empire?"

"Az and I don't, but…I should be getting a transmission from some friends of ours in a few hours. They might be able to help out there."

"Or maybe the people on this deckship we're meeting can help," Harlan put in. "You said that's what it transports—short-range craft. Maybe they'll be willing to loan us one."

"Centauri? Loan?"

Goddard winced at that. Centauri merchants weren't known for their generosity, and they were known for being…less than scrupulous in their dealings, even in the UPP where there were an abundance of fair-trade laws. And they were fanatic about collecting on debts. Even with proof that it had been one of his doppelgangers who'd ordered all those El'ehria trees—and what the man had planned on doing with 527 trees that produced fruit only edible to insects on Galara III he'd never been able to figure out—it had taken two years to clear the mess off his credit reports. He was still receiving the occasional statement listing his current 'balance' with them…he'd gotten one the day before they'd boarded the Christa. "Let's see what our other options are first—although if you don't mind, I'm curious about what this favor is that they're transporting us to make up for."

Jacie shrugged. "We saved the captain's wife. They marry to cement trade alliances so her dying before the ceremony would have messed things up. It was awhile back… maybe a half cycle? Anyway, Az and I had just gotten back on station and were starting to unload the cargo bays when all the proximity alarms went crazy. Everyone dove for the nearest compression chamber or open ship. The Centauri delegation was docked beside us…I guess they were about to undock since they were all clustered around the ship…but for some reason their hatch wasn't opening. They ended up making a dash for the Rockhopper, and about ten seconds after we got the cargo bay blast door locked, the hull was pierced. According to the official reports, a ship that couldn't handle the stress tried to take the slingshot launch and one of the engines was torn off and flung into the station." His eyes went distant for a moment. "The few people who'd been in the bay and hadn't made it to shelter were killed."

"You think it might have been on purpose?" Harlan asked. "That the delegation was on the dock and their door wouldn't open just when something happened to puncture the hull?"

"Probably." He shrugged. "I've never had much to do with the Centauri, but everyone hears the stories. The end result was the captain owes us a not-insubstantial favor he'll be glad to pay off with a little transport work, but I don't want to push our luck."

"You think he'd betray us to the Spung?" Radu asked worridly.

"I don't think so…but I wouldn't mention the fact that you're searching for your one-of-a-kind spaceship and being pursued by Warlord Shank either."

"So, we hook up with the Centauri, get towed into Spung space where we can rent some kind of transport shuttle, use the transport shuttle to get onto whatever base the others are being held on, and save the crew by using the Spung's own equipment against them," Harlan said with a grin. "We can do that, no problem."

"Um, people, I think we have a problem…" Even over the speakers, they could hear the strain in Aslinn's voice. "I have a Spung scoutship closing fast. It's been waiting here; the engines were powered down so sensors wouldn't pick it up until we were close. They're hailing—"

"I'm coming, don't answer until I get there." Jacie turned to the three from the Christa. "Strap in. And remember, the escape pod is through there."