Tales from the Academy

Chapter 38

Dear Countess Vorkosigan,

It is such a shame that I am passing through the Sergyar system and will not have an opportunity to see you. The convoy is not stopping at Sergyar and will be making the jump to Escobar in a few hours. I waved at you through a window, but I guess you didn't see :) I will get this letter finished and transmitted before the jump, though. You and the Count have my fondest greetings.

I also send along another greeting, although you may be getting one direct as well. I'm currently stationed on an Escobaran merchant ship whose captain is an old friend of yours. Elena Bothari-Jesek sends her regards. Meeting her was quite a surprise!

Anny leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her short hair. It had been quite a surprise when Bothari-Jesek had identified herself as an old friend of the Vorkosigans. More than a friend really, virtually a foster daughter who had grown up with their son, the Imperial Auditor. She'd already known that Anny had a connection with the Vorkosigans—only a small bit of research on her part would have been enough to reveal that—but Anny's own research had revealed far more about Bothari-Jesek's past. Some of it had been quite an eye-opener!

When they'd jumped into Sergyar Anny had sent a query for information on her to the military jump station. It had seemed like a reasonable thing to do considering she'd be working closely with her and she'd gotten back a whole dossier. Bothari-Jesek was a Barrayaran by birth, the daughter of one of the Vorkosigan's armsmen. She'd been the childhood playmate of Miles Vorkosigan, Ivan Vorpatril—and Emperor Gregor! Other than her remarkable playmates, there had been nothing particularly remarkable about her childhood or teenage years, but then around age twenty, under circumstances that were frustratingly classified, she had ended up with the Dendarii Free Mercenaries. She'd risen to the rank of captain and gotten her ship master's rating. She'd married another Barrayaran expatriate and then about ten years ago retired from the Dendarii and become an independent ship master.

At face value it had been an unusual (especially for a Barrayaran woman), but not extraordinary career. But put together with the things the Lord Auditor had told her during that memorable Winterfair conversation, it became extraordinary, indeed! Upon reading the dossier Anny had immediately called up everything she could find on the Dendarii Free Mercenaries. There had been quite a lot, the group had pulled off some rather remarkable exploits over the years. And it had become instantly apparent to her that this must the group that the Lord Auditor had been referring to—and he had been the commander! The public records had stated that the commander, an Admiral Miles Naismith, was a clone of Miles Vorkosigan, but that was clearly a cover story. It had really been Miles Vorkosigan all along. He and Bothari-Jesek. The more she thought about it, the more amazing it became.

Of course, it didn't seem to have any bearing on the current situation that Anny could see. As far as the records indicated—and by Bothari-Jesek's own statements—she was done with her mercenary days. But she was still friends with the Vorkosigans and she had been friendly enough with Anny, too.

Captain Bothari-Jesek has kindly provided me with a nice cabin, although I rather suspect that Admiral Vorkoff may have had a hand in that. He seems to be of the opinion that given the chance I will try to seduce every man in his command and reduce his task force to chaos. I've come to the conclusion that my current assignment was decided upon deliberately to get me off the navy warships and the berthing arrangements here to keep me separate from my own squad when not on duty. That's probably how I got assigned to this ship: Bothari-Jesek is one of only three woman ship captains in the convoy and hers is the only one of the three with much in the way of passenger accommodations. I don't imagine Admiral Vorkoff did it to match me up with your old friend! Perhaps he thought by sending me off with 'my own kind' he could neutralize the 'threat' I pose. I had been warned that some officers were going to consider me a sort of leper, but it is discouraging to actually encounter it like this. On the other hand, the officers and men of my battalion have been friendly and willing to give me a chance to prove myself. All in all, it's a bargain I can live with.

Anny paused and re-read the last paragraph. She wasn't sure she actually wanted to send it. The Countess had provided her with a transmission code that would ensure any communications to her would be unseen by anyone except ImpSec, so she wasn't worried that it might be seen by the Admiral. But still… she didn't want to appear to be whining. After a moment she went back and deleted everything except the first half of the first sentence. It didn't really matter, she supposed. As long as she could stay out of trouble and make sure her squad did everything it was supposed to, she could go back to the Academy with a passing grade and get on with her life.

Speaking of her squad… She checked the time and saw that the drill she'd scheduled for that morning would be starting in about an hour. She needed to get ready for that. She quickly finished up the letter to the Countess and sent it off. Then she put on the skin-tight undersuit she wore with her battle armor. The armor itself was standing in one corner of her cabin. It was an unusual arrangement but in the event of an emergency she didn't want to have to run all the way down to the compartment where the rest of the squad was bunking to armor-up. Having it here would save precious time. On the other hand, having someone to help would also save time. A person could get into armor on their own, but it was awkward and the more usual arrangement was to work in pairs and help each other out. Anny had no helper, so she squirmed and wriggled her way inside the suit and closed it up around her. Fully equipped the thing massed over a hundred kilos and until she activated the power servos it was like being trapped in a metal coffin. She made the plumbing connections—Sergeant Gilroy had made the adapter work perfectly—and then went through the suit's check-out list.

The new model battle armor was significantly different from the older models in that it contained a neural interface similar to what they used in the simulator pods back at the Academy. Information from the sensors and computers were fed directly into the user's brain and commands went out in the same fashion. Most of the information was still displayed visually except that instead of using a Heads-Up Display with the image projected on the inside of the helmet, it just looked that way—it was really all inside the user's head. But the range of information available was greatly expanded and there was actually tactile feedback from the feet and hands of the suit that made it almost like you weren't wearing a suit at all. You could feel the floor under your feet, you could sense air temperature and wind direction, you could even smell things. If you wanted, you could turn on the 'no helmet' mode and it was as though your head was out in the open with a full range of peripheral vision—while still keeping your head inside an armored helmet. The tactical options were much greater, too. It took a little getting used to, but Anny was starting to love it.

She finished her check-out and headed for the hatch. Here she encountered one of the disadvantages of the suit: she had to turn sideways and crouch down to fit it through the door. She stomped down the corridor, a startled steward shrank against the wall to get out of her way and more than one head appeared in doorways to see what the noise was. But she quickly left the passenger section of the ship behind and made her way to the compartment her squad was using as their barracks. First Sergeant Zeckman saluted her as she approached. He was already in his armor and nearly all the rest of the squad was, too. A last few were finishing their check-outs. "Just about ready, sir," said Zeckman.

"Good." She activated her communicator to the ship's channels. "Payne to Captain Bothari-Jesek."

"Bothari-Jesek, here. Good morning Ensign," came the reply almost immediately.

"We're about to start our exercise, Captain. You might want to warn the passengers."

"I'll keep them out of your way, Ensign. Have fun, but try not to break anything, okay?"

"Thank you, si-ma'am, we'll do our best." She clicked off and turned back to the squad. There were a total of sixteen of them which was much larger than a normal squad. George Company had the usual organization of three 'rifle' platoons and a weapons platoon which had heavier gear. The Captain had kept most of the weapons people with his headquarters squad back on Courageous, but some of them had been attached to the other squads for this deployment. And then there was First Sergeant Zeckman, her watchdog. The squad already had its own sergeant, a man named Minz, so they had the rather awkward arrangement of three levels of command for a single squad. When the last trooper was suited up, Minz reported that fact to Zeckman who then reported it to Anny, even though they were all standing right there. To top it off, they had the squad's normal corporal plus another corporal from the weapons platoon. Anny was reminded of a quote from one of her military history classes: 'never in the annals of human warfare had so few been commanded by so many'. Still, it would allow her to split the squad into five fire teams if she wanted and each team would have an officer or NCO. A lot of flexibility if she needed it.

"All right people," she said once they were lined up. "Basic orientation drill today. I know you all had a thorough tour of the ship yesterday without your armor, but today we are going to be sending you to various parts of the ship in groups or separately and you'll be expected to get there quickly and with no fuss and then wait for the next order. Any questions? Good, let's get started."

[Scene Break]

"So, Ensign, how did your exercises go today?" asked Captain Bothari-Jesek. Anny was seated at the head table with the Captain and a half-dozen of the passengers in the small dining salon the ship contained. Most of the other passengers—about forty in all—were sitting at the other tables while stewards bustled about serving dinner. Anny felt very guilty about eating in this luxury—the ship boasted a fine galley—instead of with her men. But Sergeant Zeckman had told her that it just wouldn't be proper for her to chow down with her troopers. And his tone of voice had told her that this was an issue where he was quite willing to use the override authority Captain Vorhuber had given him. She supposed she could have requested the same chow as her troopers got and had it delivered to her cabin but that would have seemed petty. Besides, she enjoyed talking with Captain Bothari-Jesek.

"Very well, Captain," she replied. "I'm getting my troops familiarized with the layout of your ship so that they can respond quickly to any emergency."

"And just what sort of 'emergency' do you anticipate, Ensign?" asked a man across from her. He was a middle-aged business man, from Pol, she thought, named Fergussin.

"Well, any sort, sir, but our primary mission is to foil pirate boarding parties or hijackers."

"By turning this ship into a shooting gallery?" The man was clearly not happy and he looked to Bothari-Jesek. "Captain, I again protest at having these… these stormtroopers aboard! In the unlikely event that any such trouble does arise I'd much prefer to have the situation handled diplomatically—paying ransoms if necessary—than leave our lives in the hands of this child and a bunch of trigger-happy Barrayaran savages!"

Anny reddened slightly but held her peace. Bothari-Jesek shifted in her chair and glared at the man. "First, Mister Fergussin, you might observe that Ensign Payne is wearing the Barrayaran Distinguished Service Star. I assure you they do not hand those out for keeping their boots shined! She may be young, but she's hardly inexperienced. Second the terms of the agreement by which we are receiving Barryaran naval escort gives them the right to station troops on this ship if they so choose. Frankly, I'm thankful for the presence of Ensign Payne and her squad. But in any case, we have no choice, so I suggest you enjoy your dinner and try not to worry."

The man snorted but subsided. Anny looked gratefully at Bothari-Jesek. While her medal wasn't for combat operations, it was definitely for actions during an emergency. She could see the other people at the table regarding her with a new look of respect.

"Yes, be grateful, Ernesto," said one of them. "The Merganthal Reaches aren't like the parts of the Nexus you're used to! Wild and wooly out there! Just crawling with pirates, freebooters, fanatics and space monsters, all itching to steal your cargo. Well, maybe no space monsters," the man ended with a grin.

"None that I've ever seen," said Bothari-Jesek, chuckling with the others. "That's not say there aren't any out there, of course."

"But what is out there?" asked Anny. "Forgive my ignorance of business matters, but what profits do you hope to make out there? Aren't most of those worlds frontier societies?"

"Trade items fall into two general categories, Ensign," said the man, a younger fellow from Zoave Twilight named LeClerque. "Manufactured goods that the locals can't make themselves and luxury items that can't be found anywhere else. Shipping basic commodities like food, fuel, or non-precious metals has never been profitable except in a few rare cases. So, we're all hoping to trade computers and power generators and automated foot massagers to these frontiersmen for stuff that is unique to their worlds."

"Like what, sir?" Anny asked with genuine interest.

"That's what a lot us are here to find out," interjected a woman sitting further down the table.

"Yes," continued LeClerque, "that's always the goal: to find something new and unique that you can sell to the more developed worlds before someone figures out how to flood the market with manufactured copies."

"Biological products are always best," said another. "As incredible as it seems there is still a market for genuine Earth-grown pearls and amber even after all these centuries. Of course in those cases it's as much where it comes from as what it is. Anything we find in the Reaches will have to be of interest in its own right since no one's going to care which backwater world it's from."

"True, but if you find the right item," said LeClerque. "You're probably too young to remember, Ensign, but about ten years ago one lucky fellow stumbled across this stuff, very similar to Earthly amber now that I think about it, but it glowed in the dark with an amazing variety of colors. He made a fortune on his first cargo."

"But then the poor sod went broke trying to bring in a second, much bigger load," said the woman, Anny thought her name was Itashi, "By the time he got back the stuff had been synthesized in all the major markets and was cheap as plastic."

"That's the big danger," nodded LeClerque. "It's a matter of the product and timing. Some products have a far longer window of opportunity, harder to duplicate or whatever. That's where the real money can be made."

"I see," said Anny. "Very interesting. "But I take it you depend on the locals to find these things for you rather than tromping the backwoods yourself."

"Usually, yes, the locals will know their worlds far better than any visitor. But there have been a few times…"

The discussion went on with the people at the table recounting legendary voyages with legendary profits. Anny listened in fascination for a while but then during a pause she asked Bothari-Jesek: "Are you carrying a cargo of your own, Captain? Or just transporting the cargo of others?"

The woman smiled. "I have a few items for trade aboard, that's part of my contract. The ship owners are assured of finishing the voyage in the black just on the transport fees, and I get paid in any case, but if I can turn an extra profit as well…" she shrugged.

"Are all the other passengers merchants hoping to strike it rich?" asked Anny nodding to the other tables.

"Not all, I don't believe. We have a pair of missionaries—I forget which god they're selling—a scientist or two checking out the different eco-systems in the Reaches, and a few others whose business is their own. The usual mix, actually."

The meal and the discussion continued and it was very pleasant. Mr. Fergussin got over his initial pique and joined in after a while and had some interesting things to say, too. And there was not a single question about Anny's choice of careers or what it was like being in the military or any of the other questions she was usually asked back on Barrayar. Here she was nothing out of the ordinary—and she liked that.

[Scene Break]

"Uh, Ensign? Ensign Payne?" Anny turned her head and saw Corporal Krenshaw approaching her. They were both in battle armor and Anny had been monitoring a mock combat exercise her squad was running.

"What is it Corporal?"

"There's been an… uh… an accident down in the cargo bay."

"What sort of accident?" she asked in alarm. She instantly called up the bio-metric readouts for the whole squad, but they were all green.

"No one hurt, sir, but we sorta busted up one of the cargo lockers. Not real bad, but Sergeant Zeckman sent me to bring you."

"Why didn't he just com me?"

"Dunno, sir."

"All right, I'll come. Lead on."

The man took her to the main cargo hold and then through a maze of shipping containers until they reached an area near the back where there had been an area fenced in with metal netting. It had been fenced in, now it was torn wide open. Several smaller containers were scattered around. Half a dozen of her troopers were standing there She wasn't sure how a person could look embarrassed while encased in armor, but somehow they did. As she approached Zeckman came up to her with his helmet open and he motioned to her to open her as well.

"What is this, Sergeant?"

"Could you turn off your com system, sir?" he was whispering. Puzzled, she did as he asked. "I'd rather not have a record of this if we can avoid it, sir."

"Ah," said Anny, beginning to understand. He didn't want any of the men getting in trouble over the damage. The com system would make a recording of everything. Although it had already recorded everything, so she wasn't sure what good it would do now. "So what happened?"

"Hide 'n seek around the cargo, sir. Some of the boys got a trifle too spirited."

"It was me, sir," said one of the troopers. She sighed when she saw it was Zac Karal. "I got into hand-to-hand with Owins, there, and I sorta threw him too hard. I'm sorry, sir."

"I told you all to be careful in here." She didn't raise her voice.

"Sorry, sir," said Karal again.

"I think we can fix this up, sir," said Zeckman. "Not quite as good as new, but maybe no one will notice."

Anny sighed. "I have to report this." Zeckman looked unhappy. "But I'll name no names unless Captain Vorhuber insists. Is he likely to ask. Sergeant?"

"Sort of depends on how you word it, sir. He might not…"

"But in any case, fix this up as best you can. Maybe we can pay for it out of the company fund."

"Yes, sir. But sir, there's something else."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, look over here." The troopers parted and Zeckman led her to where one of the packing containers had popped open.

"Oh, my."

Yes sir." The lid of the case had come open and there, neatly sitting in their gel packing, were several rows of hand plasma arcs. She looked around and saw that there were at least fifty similar containers stacked up inside the enclosure.

"What do we do, sir?" asked Zeckman. It was the first real question he'd asked her so far during this deployment. Something outside your experience, eh, Sergeant? Well, me, too!

"Close up the container and get the enclosure fixed up like you said."

"But… but shouldn't we report this?"

"I'll tell the Captain, but I doubt he'll do anything. There's nothing illegal about shipping weapons, Sergeant."

"Really?"

"Really. A lot of planets have laws regarding importing and exporting, but as far as I know there aren't any laws against shipping weapons from place to place. And from what I've heard about the Merganthal Reaches there probably aren't any laws at all about importing stuff like this."

"But…"

"It's none of our business, Sergeant, and I expect you to tell that to all the men so that they believe it. You read me?" She stared at him and after a moment he nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Carry on." She watched as they used the powerful servos in their suits to try and bend the enclosure back into place. It was going to be a pretty sloppy looking job, she was afraid. Some of the metal stanchions had been twisted badly and there was no way they'd get them perfectly straight again.

Weapons, huh? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Wonder who they belong to?

As the men worked she noticed a flat piece of metal lying on the deck. It looked like it had been ripped off the enclosure. She bent and picked it up. Neatly lettered on the other side was printed:

Captain's Stores. Authorized Personnel Only.