[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.