Authors: Jean Johnson
“Yeoman Bashramahtra, take over the helm,” Ia announced as they stopped just within grappling distance. “Extend the airlock gantry and match locks with the
Six Claws
.”
“Aye, sir. I have the helm,” Bashramahtra agreed, his hand already
strapped into the attitude control glove. “Sir…that was some rather nice flying. What was your final flight score?”
“It was 97.3. Not quite high enough to qualify for the Shikoku Yama Academy.” Unstrapping herself from her seat, Ia tapped in a final command and left her post. “You have the bridge, Yeoman.”
“Aye, sir, I have the bridge,” the yeoman confirmed.
Exiting the bridge, she climbed one of the ladderways rather than wait for the lift and emerged at the weapons locker. As he had earlier, First Petty Michaelson issued her a laser rifle and matching pistol, scanning her wrist unit and the ident chip embedded in each weapon. One went over her back, the other into the holster at her hip. Reaching the aft, she found the other three waiting, Higatsu in halfmech armor taking up slightly more than the space occupied by Tamaganej and Nguyen in their nonmechanized body armor.
“Unlike the members of the last ship,” Ia warned the three men waiting for her, “most of the crew of the
Six Claws of Dirt
do not have a personal, familial, or social grudge against the Salik. They’re here almost strictly for profit. But, like the last ship, most of them are warrior caste. So they may try to test our boundaries. If any of them do try to test you, be rude to you, push you, or act slow in carrying out your inspection orders, you will inform them that they are not permitted to insult you or refuse you the right to carry out your orders, but must instead come to
me
as your warchief.”
Nguyen flicked up his inner faceplate, addressing her directly rather than through his halfmech suit speakers. “Warchief, sir?”
She tapped the side of her brow. “Xenopsychology, Private. They are our allies, but they are aliens, and they don’t always see things quite the same way as we do. We’re lucky there are enough common threads of wisdom, morals, and ethics from sentient species to sentient species that we can get the Alliance to work, most of the time. The Salik being the current notable exception.”
“There’s always an exception, sir,” Tamaganej muttered.
“Just about always. Let’s move,” Ia ordered. She entered the airlock with Nguyen at her back. The gantry tube was cold, the gravity supplied by the weave under the fold-out decking
nothing more than a weak tug. The airlock on the far side opened promptly at their arrival. Cycling through, Ia and Nguyen found themselves facing the captain of the
Six Claws
, a particularly tall Tlassian female. Ia bowed slightly to her. “Second Chief Watcher Nnlill.”
“Lllieutennant,” she returned. The alien studied Ia for a long moment before finally moving back, giving room for the two to enter the access corridor. “You may sssearch my sship.”
“Sschah nakh,”
Ia thanked her. A huff of breath was the Tlassian’s only reply. Ia waited until Tamaganej and Higatsu had cycled through, then gave them their orders. “Search the lower deck cargo holds. Match them to the manifest, which the captain will provide to you. Captain, we will need to see the crew quarters. The records list that they have not been searched in a while. This needs to be done, to comply with the law.”
Nnlill rumbled and bared her teeth a little, but activated her wrist unit. She snapped a set of orders, then gestured with a curl of her arm. “I willl be presssent for the crew cabin inssspectionns.”
“Of course,” Ia agreed, fishing a pair of exam gloves from one of her black and grey vest pockets. “Private Higatsu, Private Tamaganej, be respectful as well as watchful.”
“Aye, sir.”
Like the previous ship, the temperature in this one was on the warm side. By the third crew cabin, Ia and Nguyen were sweating again. This one, unlike the previous two, was occupied. Rather than doing it herself, the Tlassian ship captain hissed something at the crewman, who grunted, climbed down from his sleeping alcove, and started opening cupboards.
Instead of pulling out the garments and belongings, however, the kilt-wrapped saurian just sort of shoved things around before moving to shut the panel again. Ignoring the sweat threatening her eyes, Ia stared at him. “You will need to pull it out, meioa-o.
All
of it.”
Nnlill hissed an order and cuffed her crewmate on the shoulder, claws scraping across his scaled hide. He grumbled and pulled out the collection of boots, sandals, the odd trousers that looked like they had three legs, though technically one was meant for his tail…and a collection of plexi packets containing…
stuff. Herbal-looking stuff. The enraged roar that escaped his captain’s throat made both Ia and Nguyen wince and sway back.
She lit into him in their native tongue so hard and fast, even Ia couldn’t make much sense of it. Not that Ia was exceptionally fluent in Tlassian without dipping into the timestreams, though she was good enough for casual conversation. Second Chief Nnlill growled, babbled, hissed, and claw-cuffed him again, this time visibly scratching his hide. Tail lashing, she turned to face Ia, but from the flaring of her neck-flaps, the “hood” that marked her as warrior caste, she looked like she was still too enraged to remember how to speak Terranglo.
Ia held up her hand, palm toward herself in nonthreatening Tlassian fashion. “Calm yourself, meioa. Whatever his personal choice of plant-based suicide may be, I am
not
here to enforce the Tlassian drug laws. I am here to check for a different source of contraband. Ship schematics, hyperrelay manuals, and other engineering specifications. Weapons, both designs and actual armaments. Schedules indicating patrol ship routes and times, past, present, and future. The truly dangerous stuff, not this
shova
.”
“You willl do nnothing?” Nnlill managed to hiss, neck hood still flared slightly.
She shook her head. “The incident will be filed in my report, of course, but I’m not going to draw special attention to it. Provided you take disciplinary actions and report the matter to your government before mine passes along this incident, there shouldn’t be any problem. Drug violations are technically an internal matter for the Tlassian government to handle,” Ia pointed out. “They are not a Blockade matter.
“However…the fact that he has them at all
is
a potential security risk. His suppliers could blackmail him into providing contraband information to the black market community. I suggest you contact your government immediately, and have him removed,” Ia told the other female.
“It willl be donnne,” she growled. Jabbing at her wrist unit, the Tlassian snapped several orders to what sounded like her bridge crew.
The male widened his eyes. His own neck flared, and he scrambled to his feet with a
hrrnk
deep in his throat. Ia snapped her sidearm out of its holster, pointing it at his chin even as
Second Chief Nnlill caught and dug her claws into his shoulder in warning. He froze in place.
“Swallow it.” Ia ordered, glaring at him. She flicked the safety off, letting the faint whine of the weapon warm up to an audible pitch. “You have insulted me, meioa-o. You. Will.
Swallow
it.”
“Vhok na-ashh!”
Nnlill repeated in their own tongue.
The crewmember blinked and gulped. Then coughed, gagging a little. Touching her headband with her free hand, the Tlassian mining captain lifted her chin. “Messsage is ssent.”
Ia’s headset beeped, a channel opening from the
Audie
’s crew.
“Lieutenant, we just received a split-bandwidth transmission from the
Six Claws.
They’re reporting to us the presence of illegal drugs on board, with a copy sent to the Tlassian War Command,”
she heard Kipple state.
“Is everything alright, sir?
”
Lowering her gun, she flicked it off and tapped her arm unit.
“The Second Chief is complying with Blockade procedures, Private. Ia out.”
The crewmember grimaced and rubbed his abdomen. He hissed something, but found himself shaken by the shoulder instead. Nnlill still had her neck-skin flared. “You will
nnnnnot
get your ssstomach cleannsed jussst yet. Show all sstorage contentsss, ffirst!”
Cowed, the male Tlassian crouched and began digging through the rest of his storage lockers. Ia holstered her weapon and watched. He grunted after a few seconds, hunching over more and more as those seconds turned into minutes.
“Uh…sirs?” Nguyen asked hesitantly after a louder groan from the alien. “If he just swallowed his own venom, shouldn’t he get medical help? Doesn’t that stuff corrode flesh?”
“It willl nnnot killl him,” Nnlill hissed. “Jusst make him
wishh
he werrre dead.”
“Their digestive tracts have a lining vaguely like our own stomachs, Private. One which resists and neutralizes the proteinic acids in their venom,” Ia explained absently, her attention more on the items being revealed than anything else. “They’re designed to handle it in small amounts. Swallowing enough to spit will simply give him a very bad stomachache, followed by
a case of the
shilva v’shakk
, if it isn’t expurged in the next twenty minutes.”
Nguyen mulled that over for a moment, then offered, “So…it’s sort of like eating Private Ryker’s cooking, sir?”
Ia bit her lip again to control the urge to smile. She didn’t want to bare her teeth in front of the Tlassians, since that meant something completely different. “From what I’ve heard, it’s worse. Not by much, but still worse.” Nguyen grinned at her quip, forcing her to snap, “
Teeth
, Private!”
That sobered him. Quickly pulling his lips back into place, he sketched a bow to the Tlassians, armor creaking faintly with the move. “Sorry, meioas. My apologies.”
“Acsscepted,” Nnlill muttered. Stooping, she snatched a flat, vaguely rectangular device from the floor where her crewmate had pushed it, emptying out his cupboards. “Book rrreaderr. You will wannt to ssscann thiss fffor conntraband.”
Nodding, Ia unsnapped one of her thigh pockets. Fishing out her translator interface, she sorted through the connectors tucked into the back and hooked the right one into the reader’s socket, checking both screens as soon as they lit up. “Thank you for your cooperation, Captain.
Sschah nakh.
”
Nnlill bowed and gave Ia the equivalent of “you’re welcome” in her native tongue, as she had not done when Ia and the others had first boarded. “
Ssthienn nakh.
Let usss hope thiss is the onnly violationn on board. I would nnot carrre to have my sssship dissabled.”
“Neither would I, meioa,” Ia agreed.
Space is huge. I mean really, really huge. You may think it’s a long way down to the…Okay, alright, that shtick has been done before, and done by someone a lot more amusing than me. But Mr. Adams was right. Space is almost unimaginably vast. Even in our own little corner of it, here in the Orion Arm and parts of the Sagittarius and Perseus Arms, there are hundreds of thousands of star systems, if not millions. Not all of them are inhabited, but many of them have resources, usually minerals and ice water, which can be mined.
Keeping the Salik confined on their homeworld and eight colony planets is therefore a galactic-sized headache. Any direction, right or left, front or back, up or down, can be a direction in which secretly built Salik ships can flee. Thousands of star systems are technically within their reach…but that’s not counting the interstellar void between systems, and the vast volume of space itself, which is really, really, really huge.
We therefore took great pains to destroy their fleets at the end of the war two centuries ago, and even greater pains to monitor their colonial and homeworld star systems in great depth. Instead of trying to monitor the vast depths of the interstellar void, we took to monitoring the resources that they would need to rebuild. We knew some ships would
slip through the tiny cracks around their worlds, and sail merrily through the vast cracks away from their home systems, but we did our absolute best to monitor for any signs of enemy activity and brutally destroy all such vessels when we found them.
Our standing orders were also to bring back any evidence of secret Salik bases located far outsystem. Evidence was to be found, and the bases destroyed with extreme prejudice by a massive coalition of Alliance forces. Which meant it was standard operating procedure to board enemy vessels wherever and whenever possible, once they were disabled. Even for a crew as small as the
Audie-Murphy’s.
~Ia
JANUARY 7, 2494 T.S.
NUK NUKLIEL 83 SYSTEM
The
Audie-Murphy
had two small boarding pods. Technically, they also doubled as the ship’s escape pods. That meant, when they were launched, they immediately broadcast a broadband distress beacon, both on several lightspeed wavelengths and on at least three hyperrelay bands. It guaranteed that someone would be coming by in a few hours to see why the pods had been launched, a necessary precaution when space was so vast.