[GZG] RE: [GZG Fiction] Precious Cargo

Precious Cargo

Funny how quickly you get used to things. How had he ever done it
before? How had he looked someone in the eye and told them a loved one
was dead? Thanks to the Vak's comm jamming he hadn't had to do that for
more than three years now. Written messages were always easier. He could
refine those and there was less awkwardness. Now he had to go in there
and tell that lad he's father was dead. His collar felt tight and his
heart was racing.

"Captain? This way. He's over there in the corner." The young corporal
leading him in pointed across the room.

There he was, a tall barrel-chested, but lean, young man; over 180cm at
a guess. Rich auburn hair, though plastered with sweat and fines so it
looked more like a patchwork of rusty mud and strawberry streaks. His
cheeks were also caked, except where the rebreather had been sitting.
There his olive skin showed through a band of rusty stubble, the
suggestion of a few day's growth. His insigna marked him out as a
Lieutenant, the colour of his fatigues and the way he was cleaning his
weapon, as a hard working one.

As he moved closer, threading his way through the room full of men,
Captain Tappan wasn't finding the task any easier. If anything it felt
as if his brain was beginning to freeze up. The Captain's approach must
have caught the young man's attention, as he paused at his work and
looked up. Tired eyes and a gentle half smile greeting him enquiringly.

Captain Tappan nodded toward a small alcove off the main room and they
stepped through, away from prying eyes.

"I...I...I..." stammered the Captain, fidgeting with his cuffs. "Christ
not even I'm usually this bad!" he thought to himself. "Get a hold of
yourself Lou!"

Again the easy smile and now encouraging eyes, as if he was used to
putting people at ease.

"Ah no easy way of saying this... Sir, but..." Tappan snapped to
attention. "... the King is dead. Long live the King!" And a sharp
salute to finish. "Oh nice one lame arse, strike one for compassion" the
Captain sighed inwardly, berating himself for how he handled the
situation.

The look of shock on the young man's face hit Captain Tappan hard in the
stomach. He suddenly remembered it had never been easy when you could
see their faces; and he'd only ever done it be vidphone before, never in
person. This was truly awful!

"Thank you Captain" and a stiff salute in return. "You may go..."

"Actually Sir, I can't. I have to get you back to Earth."

"Back to Earth? Through the Seige? Are you mad?!"

"Not me Sir, but someone at the Admiralty may well be. Apparently it's a
matter of morale and leadership Sir. With your brother dead, sister
missing after the attack on Albion and now your father's passing, it's
been judged as too dangerous to have you on the lines on Mars. You've
got to get home and guide the Parliament.

"How exactly are we to run the Seige?! I hardly call that safer!"

"Well Sir I had less than a squeaky means of employment prior to this
all kicking off. I can do it. It won't be easy or pretty, it's easier to
get out than in, but I can do it. Besides Sir I don't know if you've
heard Sir, but it's falling apart back on Earth. There was even a riot
in London that about crippled food distribution to the eastern suburbs
for a week. News of your in theatre activities has captured the
Confederation Sir. People look on you with hope, like a real leader
Sir."

"So not much pressure or expectation then?" A wry smile and a twinkle in
the exhausted eye. "I was not supposed to be up for any of the formal
obligations. Third in line means I was off the official payroll at 21,
free to be a minor celebrity in a job of my choice." A soft, wry chuckle
showing he actually enjoyed the thought of that life. "But needs must
though.... Who knows?"

"Your local HQ, but everyone else has been told you're being reassigned.
Best not to show our hand until you're back on Earth."

"Ok then. Let's go Captain."

A switch had been thrown. Still friendly enough to clap the Captain on
the shoulder and lead him out in to the main room, but the shoulders had
been straightened, the fatigue shaken from the frame.

It took about twenty minutes for the young King to say his goodbyes, all
the while never letting on his true role. Nodding and laughing at all
the harsh remarks about reposting by his unit mates made. After that the
two men wound their way back out of the tunnels and ran across the dusty
landing pad to the small shuttle back to orbit.

There was the usual roar and popping ears as the VTOL lifted up, slid
from helo-to flight mode and rose off toward its mother ship sitting
outside the atmosphere. On board the small, corvette-sized intra-system
blockade runner the King was shown to the old XO's cabin and asked to
remain there, out of sight and out of the way until they got him home.
If he heard three short shrills or an long drilling klaxon he was to
done his vac-suit, just in case of hull breaches or fire extinguishing
decompressions.

The Captain felt much more at home, up here on his bridge.

His senior navigator, come acting 2IC, came over and flopped into the
seat beside him. The upper half of her vac-suit hanging undone at her
waist.

"The Kinglet on board?" she asked with a teasing twinkle in her eye.

"That's King to you Fee".

"What's the plan? Walk up nicely, knock and ask dear Mr Vak politely for
access to Earth?"

"Come off it Fee, stop being a smart arse, we've been at this too many
years for that. It'll be the same routine as always, dash right on
through, using everything we have."

"Please tell us they're at least giving us a ten battleship escort, as
befits his station and all."

"Nope its been decided it'll be safer in the long run if we go in as
quiet and low key as possible, try and slip past their noses. The
defence fleet will come out and bring us in once we're within the magic
280,000 km of Earth."

"That's closer than Luna! Don't tell me its fallen too!"

"No it's just more isolated than usual. Vak haven't actually shown much
interest in it."

"The way the old bird is going I don't think she'll live through too
many more of these, for King and country sprints."

"Well she only has to hold it together until we get him to London, then
if we have to we'll sit the rest of it out on Earth, take our guns and
build shore batteries if we have to, teach the crew to use bayonets as a
last resort..." he looked sideways at her with a grin.

"You'd willingly give up that much for him?"

"What choice do we have, we have our orders and he's our king."

The 2IC pushed up from the chair, looking down at him with a slight
scowl so it was hard to tell if she were teasing or not. "Never picked
you for a royalist Cap."

"I'm just full of surprises. Now get to it." 

Over the next two days things went relatively quietly and boringly for
the new King. He had a lot of parliamentary reading to catch up on, care
of a data-stick the Captain had delivered. Apart from that he was a
virtual prisoner, even eating there, leaving his cabin only to use the
head. The Captain dropped by periodically, but he was fairly well
occupied up on the bridge, trying to pick the best route home. 

Tappan's biggest difficulty was that the ancient engines hadn't been
designed for so much continuous flight without strip-down services. The
engines were apt to pound themselves to pieces if run without a break,
unless of course you chose to crawl to your destination, something they
couldn't do. So he had opted for a pulsed approach, run an engine at
full thrust and the risk of breakdown, but gain speed for a few hours
and then let it rest while the other engine was pushed to full. This
made them prone to breakdowns, but somehow his engineers kept them
going, even overriding safety protocols to work in unbearable heat in
the top of the engine wells.

Ten hours out from Earth the ship switched to GMT. Through the turn of
the night of the 3rd to 4th of December 2196 the RNS Pondhawk began its
final run for home. Tappan had instructed a route through the centre of
Mar's solar orbit, so they could swing by the sun and inner planets and
try and make them harder to spot. Passing by the lights of Luna and with
two hours to Earth the crew of the Pondhawk began to think they may have
just pulled it off. Captain Tappan was still on edge however. The Vak
fleet was sitting about an hour's flight from the planet and could still
intercept. They were far from home free just yet. They were running as
cold as possible, lights down, all unbuffered circuits shutdown, minimal
thruster use. Tappan had even found a comet to ghost in, hoping the tail
would go someway to confusing sensors looking for exhaust plumes. It
probably wouldn't work, but he had used it successfully in the past and
he was calling on every trick in the book this ride in. Nervously
tapping his arm wrest Tappan was glued to his screen watching the Krav
signatures for the slightest hint of movement. Fee knew he was really
nervous when he crossed his arms and started biting at his thumb nail.
Suddenly he pounded the armrest.

"Damn!"

Heads around the bridge spun round to look at him.

"They didn't buy it. Two beer barrels and one of those flipping eagle
boats have broken off and are heading our way."

"Flipping? My, we are in a dither. And it's keg not beer barrel and kite
not eagle." Fee flipped over her shoulder as she stepped past Tappan,
sitting and clipping into her battle harness. She then pulled down her
visor, sealing her vac-suit, and switched seamlessly to her helmet's
throat mike. "Try not to look like there's anything riding on this will
you Cap."

Captain Tappan was feeling the weight of command more than any he ever
had. His old life had been a lark, full of wise arse comments and
adrenaline rushes. This life, deputised by the Confederation had brought
with it uniforms, rules and expectations. If he lived through it he
swore he'd go back to his disreputable life, it was a lot more fun, even
if no less risky.

Shooting a mock scowl sideways at his acting XO, Tappan flipped to
ship-wide and said in a jaunty voice "Let the fun begin. Oh and that
counts as lots of klaxons, Sir". Down in his cabin the King looked at
the ceiling and thought "No? Really? I've just been sitting in this
sauna suit for a day already." Although he appreciated that this
couldn't be easy on anyone risking their lives on this mission, reading
briefing papers for days on end had worn out whatever patience he had
started with. 

Back on the bridge a young man in a vac-suit with bulging pockets and
Velcro attached tools came barrelling through a floor hatch. Swinging
hand over hand into the firing seat in the aft of the bridge. 

"Glad you could join us Mr Reydkin" Tappan said to the grinning face of
Tobby Reydkin. 

"Just thought I'd come and shoot the breeze Sir, besides I've been
practicing on that new vid-station you guys got me for my birthday.
Let's see if it was worth it."

"Just no screaming WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE on the main channel, its apt
to disturb the paying customers."

"Yes Sir, no disturbing the Kingly cargo Sir. Got it Sir." A broad grin
showing through the young man's helmet visor.

There were a few quiet jokes, but most on the bridge fell to watching
the monitors and the three small silhouettes chasing them down. 

"Hullo! What are they up to?" suddenly asked Reydkin excitedly, his
voice betraying both delight and amazement.

Tappan stared at his monitor, not believing his eyes. Two of the Vak
ships were falling off, pulling out of the pursuit and apparently
reversing their course!

"I reckon we might just get out of this intact" Reydkin crowed, he was
never one to keep quiet. 

"Please God let it be so" thought Tappan. His heart was beating
furiously. It was only one of the littler vessels that stuck with them.
It was slower than they were, though slightly better armed, but with the
odd lucky shot they could still win a stand up fight. A situation Tappan
didn't want to get into, but still there was hope. If they succeeded,
God grant it, it'd be a feat worth bragging about.

At 1.09 a.m. the Pondhawk's luck ran out. The Vak ship fired the first
shot at extreme range, as if testing the crew's mettle. They each
grabbed what ever was to hand as they rode out the impact. Tappan
flicked his eyes to the corner of the monitor where the rundown of the
impacts scrolled up the screen. One shot had gone over their port wing,
the other grazing the top of the main hull. It was too far for the
Pondhawk to reply just yet.

"Just keep running." Tappan commanded the helm, almost needlessly.

Then came another round of fire. All of these shells flew straight over
the body of the ship. The tracking computer showing that at this range
the long rods actually completed a somersault.

Reydkin whistled, his head jammed up against a view port. "You should
have seen that! It was like someone tossed some huge can at us. They
just curved right overhead! You know I reckon the fiends just threw
their garbage cans at us." He reported smiling, swinging back away from
the port to his post.

"Yeah, we're facing death by potato peel. You just make sure we fry
their chips as soon as they're in range." Tappan replied trying to keep
it light but also trying to keep the young man focused.

The chase kept on, shot after shot coming within a breath of hitting
full on. One rod broke up mid flight, the resulting splinters jingling
against the hull and superstructure. Then what they all feared came to
fruition, they were hit abreast of the site where the neck spine
connected to the forward hull ellipse. A flashing red triangle appearing
over that site on the status board. A call went out for medics and
damage control. 

The voices on the comm were becoming more urgent. On a boat this small
the command crew had lead positions in coordinating damage control. Fee
started to unhook. Tappan reached out and stayed her hand. "No you keep
us running, I'll do it." As he unhooked Fee followed him cocking an
eyebrow questioningly. "Got to check on the cargo" Tappan responded.
There was nothing he could do on the bridge Fee couldn't they only had
to run. He really felt he'd more help down below, besides on the small
ships he'd run in the past they'd all been multi-roled, he had complete
confidence in Fee.

As Tappan fought his way aft, fighting partial gravity and the shaking
of the ship as it tore itself apart in the race to get away, he heard a
tremendous noise below him in the port quarter. Pulling open a hatch and
dropping down a deck Tappan was met by smoke and tongues of fire. The
shell having penetrated the armour and slammed through the deck,
bursting into the officers' quarters, setting them on fire.

Not for the first time Tappan observed the stupor that comes over battle
virgins when the first shells fall. He knew that with only the most
insignificant of further shocks this stupor would inevitably, easily and
almost instantaneously be transfigured into either uncontrollable panic
or hysterical euphoria. Neither of which was particularly useful. Taking
command of the situation he hit the venting switch, sucking the
atmosphere and sound out of the deck section in seconds.

As the atmosphere was restored, the scrubbers kicked in at full
strength. The green crew members in the damage crew stood mesmerized,
gazing at the smoke. Tappan was all action, moving forward to them and
clapping one on the shoulder and ordering him to start rerouting the
power relays. He handed two others fire blankets and magnetic cleaning
rods. "Get it cleaned up as best you can. Last thing we need is a lose
screw causing a short." This jolted the men into action.

Worried about the fate of his passenger Tappan continued on aft, pulling
himself back up into the main deckway. He stuck his head into the King's
cabin. Finding him strapped safely into his bedding harness. 

"Can I do something? I feel like a boil on a frog's arse hanging here"
the young man asked obviously itching to be active.

"No best you stay here Sir" Tappan replied. He then went to pull out his
watch so he could make a quick estimate of how much longer until they
reached the safer bands of human space closer to the upper atmosphere of
Earth. Before the Captain got the zippered pouch pocket completely open
he was struck in the back just above his waist by the body of one of his
crewmen, the momentum lifting him up and hurling him along the deck.
Sitting there and looking about him it took Tappan a moment to realise
what had happened. Pulling himself to his feet he quickly shooed the
King, who had come to his aid, back into his strapping. Looking back at
the body of Ensign Douglas Welsford Tappan noticed his watch floating
gently about 30cm above the floor, spinning slowly down the passageway.
Stupefied by the blow the Captain reached out in a daze and retrieved
his watch, its face cracked and its display dead. Realising he had been
occupied with a triviality Tappan reached over and checked the status of
his wounded Ensign. Dead. All the suit readouts said so, as did the
gaping hole in the man's chest.

Tappan didn't know how long he'd been standing there before he fully
regained his senses, but he noted with satisfaction that the fire had
been extinguished, though the foam hose was still pumping. He reached
over and flicked on the shut-off valve. Clipping Welsford's body to a
hand hold so the body couldn't bounce about and cause incidental damage
the Captain headed back for the bridge. Getting to the head of the
passageway leading to sick bay he chanced a look in that direction. He
couldn't see much as there was a press of bodies by the doors. He wanted
to go and see, try and give some reassurance, but the doctor saw him
coming and waved him off, calling "Just get us out of here Lou." 

The Captain nodded and started climbing back forward. Wrestling the
bridge hatch open he was met by grim faces. 

"What's left?" Tappan wondered out loud. 

"It's better than you'd think Cap" Fee responded handing him a
flex-sheet with details of their status.

Tappan nodded, drawing his gloved finger down the page and scrolling
through the prioritised reports. 

"You should be accustomed to this mess boss. Its just like when you took
that antique Ferrari out back on Harmony" joked the irrepressible
Reydkin.

"Nah that was much worse" Tappan replied in a confident tone. But it was
hardly the way he really felt. In all honestly he felt like saying "Nah,
this is nothing like that, not in the least." It wasn't a matter of
hitting a pothole and rolling a flashy 150 year old car. This was
getting shot at by serious alien gunners. It felt like they were under
incessant fire. He'd seen action before, but nothing of the same
magnitude had ridden on the outcome. His neck he'd been willing to put
up in his wager with life innumerable times, but the King's was
sacrosanct, he couldn't lose this hand.

Barely avoiding slipping on an oil slick caused by a haemorrhaging pipe
Tappan moved to the shoulder of his chief operations officer, Marjory
Valentine. "What can you do for me Marge?" Tappan asked.

"Sir, we must shorten the distance. We can't get a shot at them
otherwise. We'll all be killed one by one at this rate before we fire on
them." replied Valentine gesticulating energetically.

Taking a step back to avoid the wild arms, Captain Tappan quietly
replied "You and Reydkin keep your wits sharp, but I'm not turning back
into them, we need to run her in as quickly as we can, no detours."

"We'll be all right" Tappan continued reassuringly. He couldn't tell
them about the havoc below decks. The smouldering debris, the dead
bodies and screaming wounded, bulkheads and relay lines destroyed. This
was going to be a close run thing. Twenty-three minutes to safety, could
they last that long?

A few minutes later an ensign called through a report about what had
happened to the main battery. Tappan shrugged out of his harness again
and headed up in to the upper crawl ways to take a look. Part of the
forward shield had been torn off, the remainder bent downwards blocking
the emitter. Falling back on his experience as a freelancer trader
Tappan grabbed a magna-wrench from the tool locker and crawled into the
access tube. He really hoped this would work as he really didn't want to
go outside right now. Wriggling his shoulders around, he swung at the
shield. This wasn't thick super strong external armour, this was a light
weight internal cover, there more to keep dust out of the array and help
beam integrity than to provide real protection. He managed to push the
shield fold up a little, but it was not enough. Sliding back out of the
tube the crewman looked at him questioningly. 

"Back in a minute lads" he replied and climbed back into the tube, feet
first. Caterpillar crawling down the tube Tappan stuck his legs out into
the open space about the emitter nozzle. Then he kicked with both legs
as hard as he could manage. There was a shriek as the metal bent back.
He kicked again and then again and the emitter was clear, the shield
bent back over the surrounding rails. He then scooted back up the tube
before some over eager gunner had the opportunity to burn his lower body
to a crisp with an over eager shot. As he regained his feet and checked
the monitor the turret showed free, it could now turn and fire.

As another shot rocked the ship the Captain really began to worry about
how well they could keep this up. Sooner or later something critical
would go, like the engines. Descending back past the doors of sick bay
again Tappan watched one of his engineering crew carried by, both his
legs blown off. Casualties were being reported across the vessel,
reinforcements were being called for everywhere; and the dead were being
left to lie where they had fallen. There was simply no spare bodies left
aboard, except one and he was not going to be allowed to go in harm's
way in a million years.

Getting back to the bridge again, Fee tossed him a thermos of cold tea.
It was a trifle, but it cheered him up immeasurably. She was right when
she said tea was good for his soul. Hooking back into his harness Tappan
checked his boards. Particularly the firing statistics, as he had felt
the battery open up as he had neared the bridge. As far as he could
tell, they'd done little if any damage. There was nothing outward to
show they'd had much impact.

"They're approaching close range" Reydkin called out from the aft of the
bridge.

"Fire Submunition packs as soon as they cross that magic line." Tappan
ordered, all business.

"Aye Sir"

"Firing" chorused Reydkin and Valentine together.

"Yessssssss!" hollered Reydkin punching the air. "Cascading explosions,
severe damage to their starboard nacelle and main hull. They're dropping
off."

"Floor it!" Tappan called to the helm

"Sorry Sir they're already redlined."

Tappan's jaw tightened in frustration. They were so close.

Just then another Kra'Vak shot tore into the ship. Tappan's heart sank.
His board immediately flashing up that six more bioreadings had gone
dead. All around sick bay. His medical team was dead. Over half his crew
compliment had been killed so far. His hope began to fade and then the
sweetest words he had ever heard came from Fee.

"Three UN cruisers coming to meet us. They're chasing off the Vak ship."
She looked at him with a huge grin. Blood from a cut along her hairline
glistening inside her helmet.

The battle was over. They had made it. Within the hour they were handing
over their precious cargo, and were free to evaluate whether the ship
was salvageable or not.

Tappan saw the new King off.

"Thank you Captain" the King said as he bent to enter the airlock to the
transport ship.

"Glad to be of service Sir." Tappan replied automatically, his arms
firmly folded behind his back.

"I promise to do my best to make it worth it." the King said earnestly
before finally ducking through.

The reports of the surprise entry of HRH King Edmund onto the Parliament
floor the next day and the slow but steady restoration of order under
his direction and example over the following weeks showed him to be a
true leader and a man of his word. Tappan followed his progress eagerly,
just as eagerly as he pestered the Admiralty for a new command.

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