RODOMONT 3

[Amazee Dayzee]

I do wonder what she whispered to him and how that will affect everything. Whatever it is I have a feeling will make a big impact whether for better or for worse.

[Welsh Halfwit]

She mentioned that he can stay with her. In her bed...

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventy-Four


Postain had spoken with the Commander of the Surak and barely acknowledged his gratitude to the Celican before he headed out to help the maintenance teams in patching up the damage. He was no engineer of any sort but he could carry and lift better than most and it would fill the need to do… something. Makilla was piloting the ship with her hero letting her drive as he bosse the others around. The ceiling on the bridge was one of the first things inspected and patched to make sure no other part of it collapsed on the senior crew. Command rank had privileges. Plus the fact that, unlike the newer battleships and destroyers, the Rodomont didn’t have a secondary bridge. He might need to look into that. Maybe. It would be quite a redesign. Was he up to it? A shake of the head. Flakk was right. They needed him to be firm and resolute right now. He could hear a child crying. Not that way. He was getting angry now. He put the bulkhead piece in place and the engineers tried not to merge his fingers with the wall.


He strode through the hallways, clenching and unclenching his fists as he bared his teeth at all around him. “Uh, oh,” Gilkes said, watching the Rottian pass by and having a feeling he knew where he was going. He keyed his comm. “Gilkes to Jak.”

<“Jak here.”>

“Canine thunderstorm coming to the brig. Suggest you batten down the hatches.”

A sign came from the link. <“Understood, Gilkes. Thank you.”>

The Jestavanian waited until the Cervidian cut the link and decided he’d probably better head after the Captain. To stop him doing something he shouldn’t. Or pick up the pieces.


Forewarned, Hadrian Jak was on his feet and near the doorway as the snarling and growling came down the passage to Security and he was able to put himself in place before Postain got there. “You can’t go in there, sir,” he stated, hoping to sound confident.

“Get out of my way, Jak,” Postain thundered, with a voice that could crumble stone. “I want to deal with those two now.” He started to move around the Cervidian but Jak shifted again.

“I am SERIOUS, sir,” Jak insisted. “If you even touch them, they could get away with everything. I will NOT let you jeopardise the prosecution!”

Postain made to shove him aside and continue on in but suddenly felt himself staggered slightly by a pain to the jaw. It pushed aside his anger for a moment and he noted that Jak was positioned like he’d just… “Did you just HIT me?”

“Only so far as I had to,” Jak retorted, putting his hand under his armpit. “You don’t think I want to rip them apart, sir? You think I don’t feel exactly what you’re feeling right now? That I don’t want to have them served up as burgers in the Starwheel? But we CAN’T, sir. These two need to be brought before the justices and judged.”

“They’ll never see a courtroom, Jak!” Postain exclaimed, gesticulating towards the brig door. “They’ll do some sort of deal and walk away!”

Hadrian leaned in “Then that’s what justice decides, sir. We are NOT justice, we are LAW and, if we decide to break it to serve our own justice, what does that make us?”

Postain took a deep breath and let it out in place of a string of invectives. “Several steps towards being pirates,” he replied, some of the anger replaced by frustration. “I’m going in to see them,” he instructed Jak. “You keep that security field up.” He took two steps and stopped, turning back towards Jak. “Never hit me again.”


“Are you the Captain,” the male Lappinean asked furiously. “What’s been going on here? All this noise and fighting…”

“I AM the Captain, yes,” Postain growled. “As you well know.”

“I don’t kn…”

“Shut up. All that fighting, as you put it, has been us frighting off Lappinean death squads who were here to make sure you never tell anyone about who you were working for. I have over twenty dead and my Security Chief is fighting for her life after being shot stopping them getting to you.”

“That,” ‘Mrs Dorcas’ said imperiously, “is supposed to be her job, isn’t it? To stop people from harming us?”

“So finally,” Postain intoned heavily, “Doctor Clover Hayke speaks up. We know who you are, Doctor. We know what you’ve done.”

“Does everybody know,” she asked with manufactured innocence. “I mean, we certainly don’t know. It’ll be fun; finding out at the same time as the rest of the universe, won’t it? Unless you’re planning a closed trial? Isn’t that against policy?”

“I’m sure accommodations can be made. Then you’ll find yourselves IN them. You’ll be spending the rest of your life paying for what you’ve done, Doctor.” He glanced to her husband. “And you’ll be paying for what she’s done too. You were complicit before or after the fact. You’re just as guilty.”

“Nothing like approaching things with an open mind,” Clover stated. “If I were to imply what you mean by ‘my crimes’, all I did was to level the playing field.”

“All you did was torture and murder to upend the playing field, Doctor. And all for money and power. And where’s it gotten you? Skulking away on cargo liners with your own government trying to kill you. We’re your only hope,” he finished. “And we’d prefer you dead too.” He stalked from the room and was about to head out, back to the bridge, when Jak stopped him.

“I’ve been checking the logs,” the Cervidian said. “According to this, you’ve been awake for over thirty six hours, Captain. I think you need to take downtime.”

Postain turned to look at him. He put his hands on his hips as he stood in the doorway. “Your advice is noted,” he stated, clearly meaning to ignore it.

“I’ll remark as such to Doctor Flakk when I call him in… Five minutes?”

Postain grumbled. “I will take one hour, Jak. And you say NOTHING to Flakk!” He stormed off. Jak leaned back and checked on his teams. He hadn’t needed to contact Flakk. He’d done that whilst the Captain was talking to the Haykes.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Looks like Postain is starting to lose control of the situation with Jak and I am living for it. Nice to see him not be as infallible as he always thinks he is.

[Welsh Halfwit]

And you'll find out who the crying child is next episode... (If I recall correctly)

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventy-Five


The Captain stood in front of the view of the stars from the port side, watching them slide by in slower streaks than usual for the Rodomont. With the Surak as escort, they were clawing at the distance between the satellite and Talvary Communal Station at half the velocity he’d normally be travelling but the slowness competed the picture at the moment. It allowed him time to gather his thoughts.


His ship had behaved impeccably in the crisis chain that had befallen her in the last week or so, taking one punch after the other on her frame and people. This last had been the worst, of course, the damages inflicted by the previous fights weighing her down and breaking under impacts that exacerbated damage that hadn’t fully been repaired since the lesser damages. Even battleships were supposed to report to repair stations after conflicts but, on this one, there hadn’t been any time. They’d had to focus on the goal and, stupidly, he’d almost thought they’d gotten through this one unscathed. Now he might lose one of his closest… He hesitated. Could he really call her a friend? Sure, he appreciated her and her skills but he didn’t exactly seek out opportunities to talk to her. He didn’t talk to most of them, he realised. Xarra excluded, he had no-one aboard ship he really confided in. He huffed. When was the last time he’d just talked with anyone beyond Chichester about things like Sports teams and their personal interests. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he knew what all his own interests were now. He remembered some, back in the day, that involved visiting sports clubs when he was a Lieutenant, often taking in matches when the ships he was on were in orbit for long enough. The Celican sport of Yortekka, where charged balls were used to strike down opponents, was a particularly fond memory for him. He’d even taken part in it once, stunning Kirrin with a thirty yard pass from his unshielded hand. The ball only took on stunning charge when it passed a certain velocity and wasn’t caught by a shielded glove hand. Kirrin had been out for ten minutes, in medical for two days and Yortekka had been banned for all officers on the ship for three years. He’d bought Kirrin some beers as the Brockian had ‘forgotten’ he liked them and needed reminding of the taste. He’d never felt able to do anything of that sort on his way up the ladder, partly because he’d been dealing with those behind him on the ladder and hadn’t liked making friendships with those he had to order around. Partly because he’d lost some of them along the way as well. Friendships didn’t last in his life. He had a feeling change was coming. He also had a feeling only one person would dare tell him truth. He might have to make a call when they were closer to base. He wasn’t going to do it until the last minute. It wasn’t something to do at impulse.


The door booped and he called for entry. It opened behind him and Sarah Keswick entered. “I was told you were taking an hour to rest,” the politician said, stepping into his room and letting the door close behind her. “I can’t help but notice you’re resting in a perpendicular manner.”

“Sarah,” he replied, turning to welcome her. “I’m sorry, I’m…”

She waved a hand . “Don’t worry, Marius, I’m not here on the official side.” She chose to sit in one of his chairs. “I’m here because I know the armour you carry about your shoulders. I’m sorry for your losses today, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Marius replied, slumping into the other chair. “But I’m not quite sure why you’re…”

“You are sure, Marius,” she interrupted. “But you’ll never load onto them. So tell me.”


Kelvan paused outside her door. He tried to raise his hand to knock but, from the sounds inside, he wasn’t sure he could do it. It came down to forcing the limb to move. It propelled forward and back and forward again before repeating. The sounds settled to a sniffle as the person inside called out. “Can I come in,” he asked. The scene went silent for a moment before Willa opened the door and let him in. It had barely closed again before she was hugging him and crying onto his shoulder. He knew what it was about. He knew what it was like and there was nothing he could or should say right now. He just held her.


Enzo finished his breakfast as his mom finished hers, waiting for Martin to get off shift. Things had gone quietly after helping some of the people she knew from work into temporary accommodations due to their homes being exposed to space now. They’d not lost anything, really, and had been happy to donate things on a long term loan but just understanding how lucky they’d been was depressing at the moment. They couldn’t complain, though.


The door opened and Martin stepped through, looking about as lively as a bucket of wet sand. He reached out for the wall in his tiredness and almost missed it, making Enzo run to support him as Brigid followed. “Thanks, Enzo,” the Doctor told him. “What a night.” He slid onto the sofa. “So many patients. Even with the medicals from the Surak it was hard pressing…” He sighed. There seemed to be something he wanted to tell Enzo but couldn’t. “Thank the stars you two are safe,” he told them, before noting the blood smears on his uniform. “I should disintegrate these,” he said, meaning to stand up.

“We can do that later,” Brigid said. “I’ll get you some food.”

“Don’t… waste the replicator energy,” Martin told her. “I’ll just have a meal bar and some water. And a supplement pill.” He waited until she was back before he pulled himself together. “Enzo,” he said quietly. “I have the fatalities list from the attack. You should see it.”

Enzo swallowed. There couldn’t be a good reason he was saying this. He’d never done it before. Things constricted but he held his nerve. He took the padd when Martin handed it to him. His resolve was strong but… His eyes widened. His shoulders sagged slightly. “Willa’s dad,” he asked in hollow hopelessness.


A nod from Martin and Enzo hugged him tight.

[Welsh Halfwit]

(Points out Amazee may have missed Seventy-Five)

Seventy-Six


The hover vehicle accelerated away from the pursuing Police cars as the raiders made their getaway from Calamon city, speeding towards their hidden shuttle in the village of Pereus. They knew the locals didn’t know about the shuttle as they’d otherwise have had the Militia coming after them as well and there was no sight of that as they opened up on the dart straight length of highway to outstrip the decidedly unsouped cars in their distance as…


...They found themselves facing the other way, speeding towards the Police vehicles. The driver, a Canine, slammed on the brakes and sent his passenger seat occupying colleague straight through the windscreen as a lesson in wearing safety belts. The unfortunate Canine colleague got up, scarred and bloodied by the almost desert condition of the road, and got hit in the fact by the rear bumper as the driver swung the car around again and sped off. The one on the floor was far too unconscious to see what happened next…


...as the car found itself heading towards the Police again. They were almost on them now. The driver spun the car around again, narrowly avoided stalling it and landing on his prone colleague, and started up again.


Some miles away, a Lappinean was having a word with a colleague as they watched the scenario play out. “I think that’s probably about as much fun as is needed,” he advised. “Let’s wrap this up for the Calamon Cops.”

“Aye, sir.”


The beam of teleports faded as the three remaining occupants of the car suddenly appeared in mid air some fifty feet from their fast vanishing vehicle. All three were in seated positions some six feet off the ground and fell on their tails as the driver wondered where his wheel had gone. They looked around in dismay as the Police caught up with them. “Wh...wh..?”

“We got some help from upstairs,” the Mican Officer stated as she cuffed him and repeated the rites of arrest.


“I believe you caught them,” the Lappinean with the bandolier asked as he stepped onto his bridge and talked to the image on the main screen whilst he walked to his seat. The Feline facing him nodded in agreement.

<“It couldn’t have been done without your assistance, Commander Hawle.”>

“Well, we had a brand new vehicle teleport system we needed to run tests on and your robbers were available and much more fun than the target drones.”

<“You were running a test on living people?”>

“I was running a final test,” Hawle replied. “All the other tests have been done by very intelligent scientists and engineers. They swore it was safe but I didn’t want the first test to involve my people.”

“<I think I’ll leave that out of the reports.”> The screen went blank.

“Probably best,” Hawle agreed, flicking a Mint Imperial from his elbow into his mouth.

“I’ll never get how you do that,” Sarina Raven chuckled.

“I’ll never get WHY he does that,” Stikka put in, not entirely grouchily.

“Skill and fun,” Hawle said, answering the both of them. He clapped hands. “OK, Fortuna,” he said to the Human at the helm, “prepare to get us back on patrol.”

“Aye,” the thickly accented creature replied. Hawle had found it odd not having a Human at the helm whilst Sarah was on maternity posting to the new Cora II buildings so, when one had come up in the rotation with issues with his previous Commanders that had made him smirk slightly, he’d snapped the guy up. Now the Human looked back to him and spoke in his usually strained respect. “Where we ‘eading, sir,”

“I thought we’d get back to our route and…”

“Pardon, sir,” Dawton interrupted from the comms station. Hawle released the clamp he’d had installed on his chair and spun it around seventy degrees to face the Human. “We have a message from Talvary and a call for you on a private channel?”

“I’ll take the call in my office,” Hawle replied, tapping the button to turn the chair back around and frowning as nothing happened. “Who is it, by the way,” he asked as he pushed the chair back around manually. “Stikka, tell Katara the return switch on my chair still doesn’t work?” He stopped pushing as it clicked back into position and he stood up.

“It’s… Captain Postain, sir,” Dawton finished, making Hawle freeze for a second.

“Probably better have Katara get it ready for my replacement,” he advised, before heading towards his office. “An unsolicited call from the rampaging Rottian. I’m probably in trouble again.”


The image of the Lappinean appeared on Postain’s screen in his office and Postain wondered if he’d ruffled his headfur especially for him. “Commander,” he said.

< Captain Postain,”> the Lappinean replied. <To what do I owe the call?”>

Postain relaxed back into his office chair and knew that the next few words might well set the thing in stone. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Rodomont’s just been in the wars again. Two people entered, related to that stuff we can’t talk about..?”

<Ah,”> Hawle answered, knowing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to know thanks to his cousin. <I imagine people were not happy you had them?”>

“No,” Postain admitted, “they were not. We just met heavy interference. We took losses. Security Chief Yarkin’s fighting for her life.”

<“My sympathies for your losses. I hope Yarkin comes through. I remember she’s roughly a friend of yours.”>

Postain dry chuckled. “Thank you. The way you put that, Hawle, is sort of why I’m calling you. ‘Roughly’ a friend. That’s about it. Others would say she IS a friend or ‘someone I value highly’ but you’ve never been afraid to state things precisely. It annoys the heck out of me at times but now…” He sighed and fell silent.

<“Go on,”> Hawle prompted. <“You were going to tell me how you felt this was time enough? How you were fed up of sending people out on missions where they might not come back and risking their lives for things you can’t tell their relatives about?”>

“Intuitive as always,” Postain admitted.

<“Loss follows us like a spectre in this job, Marius,”> Hawle advised, shifting forward. <“The decisions of a Commander or Captain aren’t made with the heart in mind but with the head in your heart. You send the best team. The best team to do the job and come back. You have to because you care. Where I excel, if you don’t mind me saying, is I’ve always been someone who looks upon people and mission with equality. For yourself, for the longest time, it was mission first, then people.”>

“You’re disputing my style of command?” Postain growled slightly.

<“Nope, absolutely not. It works for you. But you had no-one you cared for personally. Then there came Chichester. She opened that door to making personal connections, Marius. Like Elena with me, she made you think of things beyond the ship.”>

“So you’re saying I can’t have a life outside the ship? Thanks…” He made to turn the thing off but stopped as Hawle replied.

<“No, I’m saying that, for the first time in thirty years, you’re acknowledging that you CAN have a life outside the ship. And you’re seeing the wonderful values in that.”> Postain thought back to Makilla and Tarbeck in the refreshment room and how he’d wanted to be that young again. <“Trouble is,”> Hawle continued, <“that those emotions are hard to bottle up again. Can you guarantee they won’t affect your decisions?”> The Rabbit looked genuinely concerned as well as intrigued. Postain knew what he was talking about. <“At our ranks, we can’t double guess ourselves or fail to make quick decisions, Marius. Can you continue to command?”>


He turned the line off after thanking Aldair. Then he mused on using his first name.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I didn't miss it and did read it but I just didn't post because I am coming down with a cold. Anyway both chapters here came out really awesome and I am glad we got to finally see Hawle!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventy-seven


The Surak led the way our of danger, through the area formerly cut off from communications, at velocity one point nine. It was taking a lot more time than usual but was within the safety parameters of the Rodomont right now as her engineers and maintenance workers helped the battleships’ crew repair the damage until they could limp to a repair station and Declan was doing his best to stay out of their way. By staying in bed. With a Cat. ‘Shockeye’ had invited him over to her place by grabbing hold of his shirt and hauling him after her when they’d gotten out of the debrief last night. She’d told him that he’d impressed her and she’d figured he deserved some sort of reward. At first he’d been terrified as a Mican being dragged into a Feline’s boudoir should be if they’d not been fed bat he’d gotten over it quite quickly. He’d not gone to sleep, though. She had, which he’d found, possibly, a little insulting but she was still holding onto him. He’d been under no illusion that this was anything more than the old sex following violence cliché but, frankly, he wasn’t against it. Especially when he didn’t have to pay for it. Which, he thought honestly, he never had. So it had been a few years.


He slipped out from under her hand and got dressed from the clothes strewn about the floor and hoped he was wearing the right underwear as he didn’t have feline vision and it was dark. Were those his boots? He could tell his socks as he wore the ones that had toeclaw caps and weren’t open ended. Then again, he’d not seen many wearing socks, other than to keep their feet warm in the fighters. He winced slightly as he pulled his shirt on and the clawmarks in his shoulders moved. Then he left a ‘see you in the morning’ note and slipped out of the room. He walked out of her bathroom and left the apartment into the interior of the ship. He stepped by the mechanics and made sure to stay away from the sparking wires as he tried to recall where his room was. He stepped through a door. Nope. This wasn’t it. Doctor Flakk looked down at him. “What are YOU doing here, Rodent?”

“Getting lost,” Declan admitted, “looking for my quarters.” He glanced around at the beds full of patients and wounded. “You, uhm, needing any help in here?”

“None you can provide. Get lost.” The Doctor turned to go back to work, then stopped. “I hear you did a good job out there,” he remarked. “Well done.”

“Uh, th...thanks. Who told?”

“Chadstone of Alpha Wing. Says you saved her once.”

“Well, she probably saved me once too,” Declan advised before the door shut.


Flakk heard him go and strode to the isolation room, where Doctor Cobalt sat, holding Yarkin’s hand as machines helped her stay alive. “And this isn’t a good place for you, either, Kelly,” he told her.

“She’s my best friend,” Kelly said quietly.

“Then she’d be advising you of that too,” Flakk said drily. “You’re in no condition to be doing this to yourself,” he reminded her. “If you don’t deliver soon, you’re going to be induced. Or explode. Either way, I don’t want to have to deal with it with just Jul as back up so stop stressing yourself? For my benefit?”

Kelly almost smiled at that. “She’d want me to be here,” she insisted.

Flakk swore in Wolven. “...and you know it. Appreciate it? If she wakes, sure. But she’d not want to endanger the children. Go now. After telling her you’re going to name one after her “

“One of them?”

“Biggest Raitchian birth ever if there’s just one in there. Figured you’d know that.”

She grinned slightly. “Still working on the bedside manner?”

“No. My patients don’t need touchy-feely. They need truth and poorly constructed lies. To whit, I don’t need you here, Kelly. Get that husband of yours to wheel you home.”

“He’s busy.”


So Leigh took her back to her quarters, under stipulation that, if anything happened to her, Flakk would eviscerate Leigh with his teeth. Leigh believed him. “So, you’re the guy no-one’s telling me about,” she asked as he pushed her chair through the passageways.

“That,” Leigh told her with what passed for humour, “is still to be determined, I think.”

“Ah, yeah,” Kelly nodded. “I saw the reports last time I was working in the office. “Bit of advice, if you’re worried about this,” she added, indicating the womb. “If it goes that way? With the right person beside you, it’s totally worth it.”

“Despite the fact you can hardly walk,” Leigh asked.

“Not saying there aren’t… drawbacks. Mind that Mican.”

Leigh diverted around the maintenance crew and pulled up to her quarters. “I suppose I can be glad it’s gone well for you. I don’t know if I’ll get the choice in prison.” He helped her up slightly so she could touch the doorpad with ease and open it.

“So,” she huffed, “he’s not told you he’s put in for you to go to a research station then? Not as a test subject,” she added quickly. “As a gopher.”

“A what,” Leigh asked, taking her inside. He looked around as the door closed.

“For the scientists looking into how the thing works, I believe. Someone who’s had it done so they can see how it works first hand whilst you do errands. Y’know, ‘gopher’ this and ‘gopher’ that?”

“Sounds like prison.”

“With better accommodation and wages.”


Declan had just about found his quarters when Senny came running out of hers, grabbed him and kept on going. “We’re at alert status, Dec,” she told him as his feet wheeled to keep him upright. “You’d know if you had a comm!”


Postain glowered at the screen. They were two hours from Talvery, coming around the moon of Parrius III. And time was up. Four ships stood between them and the station. None showed up on transponders so identification was impossible. But they were armed. Hostile. Probably too much for the two ships to take easily. They were jamming long range communications but ship to ship was still up and he had the Celican on the Surak on the side screen as fighters launched from both ships. “Ready to fight, Commander,” Postain asked.

“<Always.>”

“Sir,” Maldak put in, “I’m picking up fighters moving in from behind the moon?”

Postain sighed. “How many,” he asked as a signal cut across the main viewer. Postain stared at it in amazement and horror.


<“Pardon us stepping in like this,”> Hawle commented through the visual snowstorm, “<and putting it out on all channels so our friends in the autoships can see it but I needed the opposition to know how borked they really are and I wanted Postain to know who’s leading the charge! Henry Postlethwaite sends his regards!”> He raised a hand and Postain heard a tinny version of ‘the charge of the light brigade’ from the speaker. <“Ladies, gentlemen and everything else… Light your transponders!”>


Maldak gasped as her monitor screen filled with ships. Council combat ships and clippers.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Wow when Hawle goes to get allies to do battle with him, he REALLY goes all out and gets so many that it is almost overkill. I bet that Postain is now glad he is on their side after everything that happened.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Seventy-Eight


Commander Hawle stepped down from the teleport dais and nodded to the Raitchian on duty. The Raitchian, who wasn’t used to senior officers acknowledging her in this way for doing her job, flustered her way into a salute that, smirking, Hawle replied to. He glanced around. “Have you redecorated in here,” he asked, making conversation until someone came to escort him. “I like the piping around the ceiling.”

“This is teleport bay three, sir,” she replied. “Command rank usually get to use the two main bays. I don’t often get Officers like you down here…”

Hawle quirked an eye ridge. “Ensign..?”

“Carrick, sir.”

“Ensign Carrick,” Hawle replied, deliberately avoiding adding the ‘sir’ to the name, “if you ever often get Officers like me, the service is in trouble. How’s things over here?”

Carrick sighed and wondered what she should tell him. He was an officer from another ship. In fact he was THAT Officer from THAT ship. The one they’d all heard about. She looked anguished but came out with an answer. “Uh, salvageable, sir,” she said nervously. “We, um, got hit hard and…”

“Say no more,” Hawle told her. I’ll add my technicians to yours. All you had to do was ask, Ensign. Now,” he added politely, “I take it you’d rather I get out of your headfur?” She nodded mutely. “Fastest way to the Captain’s Office,” he asked, indicating the door. “I don’t have time for nonsense like memorizing the schematics.”

She gave him directions. Which, he didn’t acknowledge, matched the directions he’d stored in his memories from the last few visits.


As he left the room, Tarbeck found him and stopped running to salute him. Hawle returned it out of politeness. “Sorry for the delay, sir,” the Celican puffed. “Primary bays are still down and so are half the lifts. Crews are working to repair them but…”

“You have priorities, Commander, I get that. My own Chief Engineer tells me that Command is about delegating repairs and keeping my ears out of the way whilst she does them.”

“We’re fortunate that you turned up with the fleet when you did, sir.”

“Yeah, they bugged out real fast with all those ships showing up, didn’t they?” Hawle chuckled, making Tarbeck wonder what was going on. And why the others hadn’t responded to hails of thanks. Or come out from the other side of the mo…” He groaned. “There’s no fleet, is there, sir,”

Hawle laughed. “Nope. Just us, the Fallir and a whole lot of drones with transponders making out they were frigates and clippers. The rest were on their way here but there was no way to get them here in time. I understand we have you to thank for the idea?”

“Oh, my drone transmission idea?”

“Not that you’ll get any credit for it, of course,” Hawle continued with a twinkle in his eye. “Hint for you. The best Commanders give the credit to their own crew. Might give you a ‘based on an idea by’ credit…” He stopped by Postain’s door as they reached it and offered a hand. “Nice to meet you, by the way.”

Slightly bewildered and understanding why the Captain called him ‘the mad Rabbit’, Tarbeck took the hand.


Maze Hardy looked down at the side of Senny Appleby and tried to assess the situation. “Senny,” the Raitchian asked carefully, “are you giving me a gift?”

“Well, I’d hoped to proffer it to you when we reached the station and all its papers were in order…”

“Hey!”

“..but you’re here now and I want to offer a qualified pirate to someone I trust who’d value it.”

“I’m not a thing,” Declan protested. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Nope,” Maze retorted. “Reclaim don’t get a say in where they go. But a request can be made. I’m told you’re quite good?”

Declan, reluctant to blow his own trumpet, looked imploringly at Senny. She looked down at him. At those saucer eyes… “He’s a good pilot but he started this mission on the other side so there are resentments. Although…” She sniffed the back of his head. “I think you’ve won a few around?”

He rubbed the back of his head to muss the scents up.


A day later, escorted by the two frigates, The Rodomont limped into port at Talvary station. Decisions had been made and signed and understood and Enzo embraced Willa, possibly for the last time. They’d had the service for the lost on board and she’d been there with her mother and Kelvan. She’d been crying and her mother had done her best to look stoic but he knew she’d put in for a position at a research company on Medrinas IV, where Kelvan happened to live and someone, probably Kelvan’s step-dad, had put in a word on a flat for them. He rubbed noses with his female friend and let her go so she could join her mother in heading off. “Look after her, yeah,” he asked the teen he thought of as a brother.

“Always will, bro,” Kelvan replied. Then he enveloped Enzo in a tight hug of his own. “See you next time you’re in the system, eh?” He patted Enzo’s back heavily. “Look after yourself?”

“Are you.. going to kiss me,” Enzo wheezed.

Kelvan pulled free. “Not a chance,” he said, before tapping Enzo’s nose. “That’s Ella’s territory. Look after her, yeah,” he added as Hayseed called him over.

“Always,” Enzo said as Kelvan pulled his bag with one hand and took Willa’s free hand with his. Enzo noted the squeeze she gave it. He was pretty sure that hurt, what with claws being involved.


And Postain met Postlethwaite in his office as Yarkin’s form was transferred to the medical facilities on the station.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Leave it to Hawle to bluff the enemy by making them think that there were a TON of ships to go against said enemy when they were really just a bunch of drones. At least Hawle was polite enough to let Tarbeck know that he got the idea from him even if he won't give him credit. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

There'll be a short break after this part. Still working on the early parts of the Harvest Moon tale...

Seventy-Nine


Henry Postlethwaite welcomed Postain into his office, with the usual two glasses of alcoholic liquid placed on the desk between his chair and the Captains. The Sector Commander was already sat, having given up on the practice of standing to welcome his officers a few years back as it often took him twenty seconds to get out of the chair. They understood it and, if they didn’t, never mentioned it. Henry could see the look on the Captain’s face and he read it well. “A tough mission, Captain,” he stated. “Tougher than we had any notion it would be.”

Postain agreed with the summation of the situation as he sat down. “Well, as we had no notion about it, sir, I’d have to agree. What’s going to be done with… them?”

“The central Council will get everything they can from them. Their lives won’t be allowed to be the same again. Cells await,” Henry replied, his tone indicating that he knew the punishment wouldn’t fit the crime. There was, pretty much, no punishment that could. Engineering a contagion like the gel. Weaponising it and trying to sell it to organised crime consortiums. If they wanted to keep it quiet there could be no trials, no juries. No real scope of justice. Being a former Security Chief, he’d seen it before. On several occasions, in fact. “It’s not enough, I know.”

Postain grunted and kept his eyes down. “At least it’ll embarrass the Lappinean Government, yeah?”

“Oh, no,” Henry countered. “The enemy’s been disavowed,” he continued, pushing file 120 across the desk to him. It detailed, in officially unofficial terms, how the ships had been co-opted by a militant group of former Lappinean operatives that could command the ships with minimal crew that, it was believed, were taken from the hardline, criminal, class on Lappara. Easily led. Easily disposed of. “I don’t believe pretty much most of it but we have no proof, do we? They made sure of that.”

“We have bits and pieces,” Postain stipulated, “despite the dissolving suits and destroyed systems. We have blood samples and scree…” He stopped as he looked at the face of Lake, the ‘Captain’ he’d spoken to. But the name said Garl. Sonia Garl. She was, according to the legend, a disavowed agent on the ‘termination’ list.

Henry nodded. “As I say, disavowed. Everyone involved will be. The suspicion will remain. IOC will make sure of that. The proof will be sent to them for analysis and storage, including the blood samples… How did you get those, by the way?”

“Jak impaled one on his antlers.”

“Ah, of course.”

“Sir, I’d rather see this through,” Postain stated, almost feeling it and on the verge of saying that it would be the last thing he’d do as a Council Officer. He didn’t quite get the chance. “I owe it to the Chief to…”

“Yes, I heard. Does Flakk reckon she’ll pull through?”

Postain closed his eyes and huffed. “He doesn’t believe so, no. So I would like to continue this...”

“You won’t have time,” Henry interrupted, noting that neither of them had taken a sip from their drink. “You’ll be too busy.”

Postain cocked his head slightly. “Hmm?”

Henry put his hands on the table. “I’m retiring, Marius,” he said. “I should have retired ten years ago but no-body who wanted my job was available. Everyone who could have had it wouldn’t care for life out here in the patch and, thusly, I didn’t want them taking it. I was waiting for someone who cared about the patch and was ready for the job.”

“And you have someone,” Postain asked. Henry merely put an elbow on the table and looked, impassively, across the table at him until he got the impression he had the idea of what Henry was driving at. “Me? You have to be joking, sir. I can’t take over here!” How could he explain that he wanted to be close to Chichester, especially after their wedding. He couldn’t expect…

Henry laughed and sat back. “Of course not here,” he said. “Talvary was only supposed to be a stop-gap after Cabbary station was destroyed in the patch war ten years back. It’s old. It was obsolete before Cabbary was finished. The Council needed a command post right then and it was the only one available. It was never supposed to take this long to finish up but you know these things. Locations had to be found and purchased. Deals had to be made. Pandera would be put out if we chose Caldera and vice versa. And both were charging too much anyhow.” He allowed a grin. “You really think we’ve spent so long building a barracks on Cora II?”


The schematic showed a military base, indeed. But there was an entire underground floor that Postain hadn’t seen before, with holo-rooms, meeting rooms, a teleport control room and offices with mounted energy weapon turrets that could be retracted underground and powered from self contained generators kind of stood out, along with seven bedrooms with en suites. “For when you have late meetings there,” Henry explained. “Cabbary station was destroyed by the Star Council quite easily. Because it was a space station. It was a Command AND Control hub and we replaced it with Talvary, which was, essentially, the same. Thankfully we’ve not had another war or, you can bet your bottom credit, it would have happened again. All the eggs, as the Humans say, are currently in one bucket. I want things changed. Let Talvary continue to be a journey point but take command form elsewhere. Here,” he added, tapping the image just in case Postain hadn’t got it.

“I am no diplomat,” Postain told him.

“Oh, boy, do I know that. A diplomat can be brought in to help advise you. Colleen Una?”

“No,” Postain snapped. “She’s needed on the Loper. If only to stop people ripping the Rabbit’s ears off. I’d get one assigned.”

“And leave Xarra to get the Rodomont back up and running?”

Postain looked around at the tight smile on the octogenarian Mican’s face and realised he’d agreed without really thinking about it. Even thinking about it there didn’t seem much of a downside to taking up the position now. As sector Commander he could even take control of a ship again if he wanted to. Henry had never wanted to but he’d come through security, not command. He could have a house on the planet, with Chichester. Travel into the office and go back at the end of the day. Most days. It was a large step but… “I think she’s probably ready,” he agreed, dragging his mind back to the current meeting. “Hilla, I mean.” He looked askance for a moment. “I’m leaving a Mican in charge of my ship,” he told no-one in the room at large. “Where are you planning to go, sir?”

“Well, I’ll help oversee things here whilst you set up on Cora II. Then..?” Henry seemed a bit misty. “Another reason I wanted you for the post, Marius, is so you’d be able to have things outside the job. I don’t. No family left. Few friends. I might go settle on Calderon, perhaps. Keep an eye on Harriet Thurso. She needs an eye kept on her… So, when can I expect the paperwork for Hilla’s promotion?”

“Later on today, sir,” Postain admitted. “I need to go tell Chichester first.”

“All the plans, making it home to roost,” Henry said, lifting his glass.

Postain said nothing but lifted his own.

END.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Another masterpiece that entertained on all fronts Welshy! I really loved going through the journey with all the characters and I can't wait to see what is next!