Chapter Sixteen

The Neddy Seagoon flickered into existence in the Cottbus System’s designated emergence zone.

“Emergence complete,” Charlie said, as he altered the starship’s course slightly. Cottbus’s gravity shadow was only ten minutes away using the drive fields. “I am transmitting a burst IFF signal to System Command now.”

Sasha nodded from her position. No one would have mistaken the Neddy Seagoon for a warship, although it had quite a few surprises buried away in its hull. She had started life as a pleasure craft owned by some rich kids from the Thousand Families, before they accidentally managed to damage her badly and sell her off to the lowest bidder. Officially, she had been purchased by an independent trio of traders; unofficially, Imperial Intelligence had renovated her to their exacting standards.

“They’re responding already,” Sandra said, from her console. On the starship, she was strictly business. “They’re assigning us to their main spaceport and warning us that leaving the environs of the spaceport without clearance papers would be taken amiss.”

“That was quick,” Sasha said. Charlie had to agree. System Command centres rarely deigned to notice them until they were much closer to the planet, although Cottbus probably had good reasons for being on alert. If Admiral Garland had been correct, they might be on the verge of war. “Did they send us anything else in the data packet?”

“Nothing beyond the standard guff about not going within weapons range of any of the orbital defences or the main shipyard,” Sandra said. “I guess that they’re either unconcerned or they’re waiting till we’re on the ground before springing their trap.”

“Bite your tongue,” Sasha told her sharply. “Charlie, take us down before they start to wonder why we’re wasting our time up here.”

Charlie keyed his console and the starship started to head down towards the planet, which was growing larger in the viewport as they approached. The Neddy Seagoon had been designed to look like a popular image of a starship, rather than the blunt shapes of Imperial Navy warships, and had a genuine cockpit rather than a bridge. It could also, unlike so many other starships, land on a planet, which saved docking at one of the orbital stations and taking a shuttle down to the planet. It would make life easier, in some ways; if they docked at one of the stations, they’d probably run into a customs official wanting a cut. The medical packages would be worth thousands of credits, at the very least, and if they refused to pay the cut, the official could interfere with them without quite breaking the regulations.

“Impressive,” Sasha said, as the shipyard came into view. “It looks as if someone is preparing for war.”

“No shit,” Charlie agreed. He hadn’t seen a Type-I shipyard before and he was rather surprised that it had been built in orbit around an inhabited planet, rather than the gas giant further out like Jupiter, but he had to agree that it was an impressive sight. Hundreds of slips, each one with a starship in various stages of construction, orbited the planet, supervised by hundreds of industrial modules and nodes. Just from what little the passive sensors could pick up, Cottbus was constructing at least nine additional superdreadnaughts and seventeen battlecruisers, while there were no sign of any smaller ships. A handful of freighters, seemingly innocent, floated near the shipyard, each one surrounded by workers.

“Those are arsenal ships, or I’ll eat my hat,” Charlie whispered. There was something about the sight that ordered silence, although he knew — rationally — that there was no way that any of the locals could hear him. “I really don’t like the look of this.”

Sasha snorted. “If it’s surprising you,” she said, “then you’re in the wrong line of work. We knew that they’d probably be building as many warships as they could and now we have confirmation, so…”

Charlie scowled. He’d done enough work on various shipyards to have some experience at judging starship construction times. It took upwards of a year to construct a new superdreadnaught — although rumour had it that the Geeks had successfully halved the construction time — and if Cottbus had started work as soon as the news of the rebellion reached them, they might have an additional two squadrons of superdreadnaughts at their disposal. The passive sensors were far less capable than the active sensors — although bringing up the active sensors would have revealed their true nature to anyone watching — but it was clear enough that Cottbus had at least two squadrons of superdreadnaughts on guard duty. Maybe they weren’t expecting to launch an attack, but preparing to meet one when it came.

He said as much. “Insufficient data,” Sasha rebuked him, gently. “We’ll find out when we land on the planet.”

“True,” Charlie agreed. The blue orb of Cottbus was growing ever larger in the viewport. “Here we go…”

He took direct control of the starship as it plunged into the atmosphere, the drive field glowing red as it absorbed the heat of re-entry, and steered them down towards the spaceport. He wasn’t unduly surprised to discover that the main spaceport was in the centre of a desert — that was fairly standard when starships were involved — but he was surprised by the sheer volume of activity. Hundreds of starships and in-system craft buzzed around, rising up towards space or coming in to land, suggesting that the entire system was buzzing with industry. It was unusual to see so much activity and it worried him. Normally, System Command tried to keep starships from landing, but now they seemed to be encouraging it.

“We have a designated landing pad,” Sandra said, as the Traffic Control system updated them. Cottbus, at least, didn’t seem to insist on taking over the starship and landing it by remote control, although he’d seen several disasters caused by badly programmed traffic control systems. “Try not to break the china when you land.”

“Bitch,” Charlie said, without heat. It was hard to stay angry at Sandra for long. The designated landing pad, he noticed with growing concern, was a sealed hatch, the hanger doors already opening for them and closing over their heads as they landed. They wouldn’t be able to leave without paying the hanger fees. The ship touched the ground with nary a bump and he leaned back in his chair as he began the power-down sequence. “You can go pay the docking fees while I get everything shut down.”

An hour later, they sealed the ship and headed down the stairs into the main complex. Sandra had picked up a guide to the spaceport and Charlie scanned it while allowing Sasha to lead the way towards the Interstellar Market. It was a fairly typical spaceport, with hundreds of bars, whorehouses and markets to take money from arriving spacers, although they wouldn’t be allowed to leave the complex without special permission. Most spacers wouldn’t bother trying to leave, unless they wanted to see as many new planets as they could; they could get everything they wanted in the spaceport.

The Market itself was throbbing with activity, although mostly they were selling nothing particularly new or interesting. It was more interesting to note what they weren’t selling. There were no handheld weapons, or even ship-mounted weapons, while there were more than the standard number of alcoholic drinks and barely-legal drugs. A dozen recruiting booths were hard at work, inviting spacers to sign up with the Cottbus Defence Force and help remove the last remains of the Thousand Families from the Empire. Charlie picked up one of the brochures, hoping to discover the party line on events, but it wasn’t that informative, only promising that there would be a new dawn under Admiral Wilhelm. It was far from the democratic state that Carola Wilhelm had promised.

“Are you really surprised?” Sasha asked, when he pointed that out. “We knew that it wouldn’t be quite what it seemed.”

Charlie nodded and followed her through the crowd, keeping his eyes open and peeled. There were hundreds of spacers, but there were also hundreds of Imperial Navy crewmen, although their rank badges had been replaced with something new and different. He identified it, after a moment’s thought, as the old seal of Cottbus, back before the Empire had swallowed it up into its gaping maw, and shivered. If Admiral Wilhelm was resorting to such tricks to gain loyalty, and it seemed that he was, he had to be willing to tear the Empire apart.

Bastard, Charlie thought. It wasn’t normal to see Imperial Navy personnel in a civilian and commercial spaceport, including shipyard personnel, but it seemed that Admiral Wilhelm had decided to overturn that particular taboo. It didn’t seem logical, but perhaps it was intended as a reward, or maybe even a punishment. He paused to glance inside a bar as they passed it, ignoring the sounds of drinking and loud music, and saw hundreds of other personnel. They looked to be on leave.

But that doesn’t make any sense either, he thought, puzzled. If Cottbus was gearing up for war, and it certainly looked that way, why would they have some of their personnel on leave? It wasn’t as if they had a surplus of trained manpower, was it? No shipyard in the Empire had enough manpower…

“Ten thousand credits,” the dealer said, drawing Charlie’s attention back to Sasha. She had found a dealer in rare items and was haggling with him for the medical packages. Judging from some of the other items on his shelves, he was actually purchasing items for pirates, but Charlie found it hard to care. It wouldn’t be the first time they had walked into darkness to serve the Empire. “That’s the best I can do.”

“They’re worth about ten times that on the open market,” Sasha replied, firmly. “I can accept seventy thousand credits, but no less.”

The dealer drew himself up to his full height. “You’re trying to beggar me,” he said, angrily. “Thirty thousand credits or my children will starve.”

Sasha eyed his ample chest. “If that’s starvation, I’d hate to see gluttony,” she said wryly. “Fifty thousand credits, or my crew will lynch me and sell the packages somewhere else.”

“Fifty thousand — done,” the dealer agreed. He pulled out a datapad and passed her a copy of his shipping address. “You will send them here and then I will pay you.”

“Fine,” Sasha agreed. “We’ll deal with that now.”

She led them away from the dealer’s berth. “That was interesting,” she said. Charlie suspected that she had privately enjoyed the haggling. “Now, we’ll go get the packages and then find the hotel. And then… we’ll get to work.”

* * *

Senior Supervisor Andy Gillingham allowed himself a smile as he disembarked from the shuttle at the main spaceport and looked around with interest. It was his first leave, but one he felt he had definitely earned after being promoted to replace the last Senior Supervisor. Thinking of the idiot whose orders he had had to obey, even when they led to outright disaster, made his blood boil, but at least he could enjoy a little gloating. The former supervisor, locked up after a disaster with the superdreadnaught construction program, didn’t have anything like that luxury. Gillingham had taken his job and had done it so well that he had been offered promotion already.

He smiled again as he wandered into the spaceport. The old supervisor had been appointed by the Clan’s Manger and hadn’t known much about shipyards; indeed, it was a miracle he hadn’t stepped out of the airlock without a spacesuit before he was removed. He’d known just enough to think he knew it all, which had meant that he had made mistakes, including some that Gillingham had tried to talk him out of making. There were some supervisors who were content to take their pay and stay out of the way, but no, his former one had insisted on having his own way. After Admiral Wilhelm had taken over, thank God, that sort of incompetence had been seriously punished.

And Gillingham himself had benefited. The removal of the Thousand Families meant that he had incredible room to realise his dreams, as long as he stayed loyal and competent. He’d already rammed through an entire series of improvements to the shipyards, ensuring that there were fewer accidents and work went smoother, while proposing other greater changes that would expand the entire production line. If the Admiral agreed to make the investments, and Gillingham saw no reason why he shouldn’t, the shipyard would become far more productive. Indeed, it might see Gillingham himself promoted to manager!

He found a small bar and walked inside, looking around for interesting company. Nothing caught his eye until he saw inside one of the small cubicles at the rear of the bar, where a girl was sitting, nursing a drink as if she had been there for a while. She smiled at him and he was hooked, feeling as if he was being pulled over to sit opposite her, smiling back into her face. She had a hauntingly pretty oriental face, with a smile that revealed perfect teeth, and long dark hair that seemed to shine like the inky darkness of space. He could see the tops of her breasts in her outfit, but her hair fell down, covering them.

“Ah… hello,” he said, cursing himself for a fool. He’d wanted to be the charmer, the seducer, but somehow it hadn’t come out quite right and he sounded like an idiot. It always happened when he tried to talk to pretty girls. He either managed to convince them that he was a drooling idiot, or that he was only interested in their bodies, or he got as far as telling them where he worked and they lost interest, if they’d ever had interest. A whole series of chat-up lines rose to the forefront of his mind and he, somehow, refrained from actually saying them. “Hello?”

She smiled at him as if she understood him perfectly. “Hello to you too,” she said. It sounded like an invitation to bed and he felt his body quiver. “Are you new here too?”

“No, I work at the shipyards,” Gillingham said, before he could stop himself. She was going to be bored, he just knew, as he started to talk, but somehow she kept listening to him. “And yourself?”

“I just got in on a freighter and I have to wait here for another one,” she said. She held out a hand. “My name is Sandra, by the way.”

Gillingham took her hand and, somehow, worked up the nerve to kiss it. It felt warm and wonderfully soft under his lips. “Charmed,” he said. “My name is Andy.”

She laughed warmly. “Pleased to meet you, Andy,” she said. “Are you going to keep me company for a while?”

It felt as if they chatted for hours. He spoke about everything and, for once, he didn’t feel like a gibbering idiot. Perhaps it was the soft brown eyes that rested on his, or perhaps it was the fact she asked intelligent questions, but somehow he couldn’t hold anything back. He could just feel the sexual tension rising and falling, but somehow he was enjoying her company too much to make a move, even though he wanted her desperately. His eyes kept dropping to the rise and fall of her breasts, pure white against the darkness of her hair, and yet, somehow she didn’t leave him alone.

“I think they’re going to want us to leave soon,” she said, finally. Gillingham glanced at his timepiece. Had it really been four hours since he’d met Sandra? “Would you like to come with me for a nightcap?”

Gillingham couldn’t have refused her even if he’d been due back on the shipyard. She took his hand and led him towards the stairs, up towards a bedroom. It occurred to him to wonder what she might have been doing with a bedroom where she met him, but somehow the moment the thought occurred to him she brought him to her and kissed him. For a moment, he was too surprised to react… and then he kissed her back, hard.

The universe seemed to dissolve in a wave of lust. His hands fell down towards her breasts, stroking them and tearing at her shirt, ripping it away from her chest and revealing her perfect figure. One hand reached down to her trousers and pushed them down, while the other pulled her closer to him. Her hands were undoing his clothes with a calm precision, even as she pulled him towards the bed and pushed him down on it. She reached inside his pants and touched his penis… and the universe went away on a tidal wave of pleasure.

* * *

“My, talk about a wild animal,” Charlie said, as he entered the room. Sandra’s shirt was ripped and torn, exposing her breasts for all to see. She was pulling up her trousers, but even they were damaged by the sheer passion that the drugs had unleashed. “I guess he really did want you after all.”

Sandra glared at him, completely unbothered by her near-nakedness. “I expected the drug to kick in well before I got too exposed,” she said, looking down at the unconscious form of Andy Gillingham. The drug she’d painted on her lips before she waited to see who would walk into her trap should have borne him away on a tidal wave of pleasure. When he awoke properly, he would remember nothing more than a brief pleasant encounter with a girl. “I didn’t mind sucking and fucking him for the cause, of course, but…”

“Of course,” Sasha agreed. She winked at Charlie as Sandra discarded the remainder of her outfit and pulled on a black dressing gown. She had seduced others for Imperial Intelligence before during her long career. Gillingham hadn’t had the slightest idea of what was going to hit him. “Now, before this gets any more exciting, let’s find out what your lover knows, shall we?”

Загрузка...