Black Dawn (33 page)

Knepp and a few
Talon
crew, wearing civilian gear, wandered
casually into the establishment. They paused just a second before heading straight over and ordering drinks. Tony turned to lean his back
against the bar and took in the whole room. The chairs and tables, the
tacky artwork…the empty piano.

“
What, no entertainment?” he ‘teased’ the bartender. “When
does your singer come on?”
“Find out and we’ll both know. Didn’t show up for work yesterday or today.” He shook his head. “They come and go. Drifters, you
know. But…well, he was okay. Sorry to lose him.”
Tony grinned at him. “Hey give us our drinks free and we’ll go
find him for you. We’ve had no fun at all for ages.”
The barkeep frowned at him. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t
hand out free anything….And roughed up piano players can’t do much
singin’.”
Tony tossed his drink down and slammed the glass back down
on the bar. “Well, I’m gonna go look. I haven’t seen anything on this
hunk of metal worth doing anyway. And we’re stuck here until…” he
acted as if he stopped himself. “Come, on guys. Let’s go find ourselves a piano player.”
“You’re crazy,” Milner said on cue. “We just got here.”
“And now we’re leaving,” Tony pretended to push him. He
looked over at Smith. “Pay the man, Anth.”
“What ! I paid last time!”
“So you’re paying again.”
Grumbling, Smith handed over his chit for the barkeep to scan.
“This better be one good piano player to be worth this.”
“Actually,” he cringed a little, “he isn’t all that great.”
“Terrific,” Smith rolled his eyes and followed his friends out.

It really only took a couple of hours and a few questions to
find out where Taylor had been seen last. A scruffy old dock worker
told them about seeing a well dressed young man in the company of
some seedier types hanging around the warehouses night before last.
Knepp thanked him and they began a methodical search of all the
warehouses in the row. The fourth one they tried was nicely dark and
decrepit.

Sneaking in, they climbed up to the catwalks as silently as humanly possible in order to get the best view they could. It didn’t take
long to find them. In the very center of the building, surrounded by
ancient crates and broken down machinery, five men stood and one lay
on the floor. It didn’t take a second look to know who it was on the
floor. One of the five was talking.
“I never met a piano player that was artificially allergic to pentha.” He kicked Taylor in the stomach. The spy groaned and curled
around the injury. “But no matter. When the boss gets here, he’ll find
out anything he wants to know. He just has that sort of way with people.”

The other four chuckled at the remark.
“When is he getting
back anyway,” one said. “I’m starving. Let’s send somebody out for
food.”

“
He didn’t say. What he did say was to be here when he arrived. You really want to make him annoyed and end up with
him
?”
he gave Taylor another token kick.

The rescue team obviously had no time for an elegant plan.
Just as Knepp was about to signal the others to get in a better position
with their stunners, he suddenly met the sixth member of the group.
Rough hands spun him around. “Well what do we have he…” was all
he got out before Tony’s stunner went off point blank in his gut and he
dropped to the metal floor with a thump.

“What the…!”
the five down on the floor jerked up straight.
“Shoot anything breathing!” Tony commanded.
Stunner fire filled the room. Graham was hit by return fire,

also stunner, fortunately, and was grabbed by Smith before toppling
over the railing. It really took very little time for there to be nothing
moving on the floor below.

“
Knepp to shuttle! We could use a lift.”
“Gotcha, Commander. On the way.” The pilot lifted the shuttle out of dock and landed it with less grace than he could have on the
tarmac outside the warehouse. True a few shipments of something that
were inconveniently waiting for loading would never see the rest of
their journey, but he really didn’t care a whole lot. What he
did
care
about came stumbling out of the building half dragging two inert bodies. They practically fell into the open hatch he had waiting for them.
The hatch shut
and they blasted off, ruining still more of someone’s cargo.

Twenty minutes later, a grimy pirate rounded a corner and
stopped abruptly. He took in the scorched area and narrowed his cold
eyes.

Lamont took a breath and went into Sick Bay. It found Taylor
sitting up in bed, being tended by Byars. She got up at the commodore’s entrance and let them have some space to themselves. She did,
Coy noticed, stay within “mothering” distance.

The entertainer/agent looked up at Lamont with apologetic
eyes. “Shorry, Commodore,” he said through swollen lips.
Coy shook its head. “The information you relayed to us gave
us almost everything we needed to know. It was time to get you out of
there.” It paused. “A fact we should have thought of a few days earlier.”
Taylor started to give a short laugh, winced and changed it to a
lopsided grin. “It’ll look great in my memoirs shome day.”
“Ah,” Coy came closer to the bed. “People usually only write
memoirs after they retire. How soon will that be?”
“You mean, am I ready to give up?”
Coy cocked its head. “A legitimate question. I’m sure you
didn’t expect it to lead to all of this when you learned to play music.”
“If I didn’t ecshpect thish when I agreed to be your lookout
then I wash deluding myshelf.” He shook his head. “Before, I felt an
obligation to repay you and the Fleet. Now, I have a more pershonal
interesht. I know I let you down, but I would like to shtay on the
team.”
“You didn’t let me or anyone else in the Fleet down. Your position on the team is quite secure as long as you want it.” Coy saw the
familiar BlackFleet pride return to his eyes. It gave him a firm, commanding nod and left him to Byars’ care.

The man listening to the communication wore quasi military
gear and a serious expression. He checked all his scanners and information again as he tracked the owners of the voices he was eavesdropping on.

‘How
did you say you ended up in the Nebula?’ an incredulous
voice asked.
The answering voice sounded tired and frustrated. ‘I
said
I
didn’t know. The best our Med Tech and engineer can figure is that the
headset had some malfunction. Our pilot is delirious and our back up
can’t get the ship to respond right. I don’t even know how much longer
our power is going to last.’
‘Don’t panic,’ the first voice responded with more of a soothing, calm tone. ‘Shut down everything except life support if you feel
unsure about your power reserves. Just let yourself drift. We’ll find
you.’
‘How long will it take you?’
‘From our position, about 3 days.’
‘Three days!!’
‘Trust me, there’s no one else in the Nebula. It’s a mess in
there. No one likes to be there very long.’
‘Including me!’
‘In three days time, you will be safely aboard our ship heading
out of there. You should be fine until then. If you have any more concerns or something else happens, let us know immediately.’
‘Alright….’
The man listening to all of this was still scanning his facts
when his superior entered. “Well? Who are they?”
“A small tourist group. It seems to be a small company run by
Betalines.”
“Hmmm,” the other man scratched his chin. “Probably not
worth touching. Besides, hitting them now after they’ve talked to
someone would be as good as telling them we’re here. Just sit tight and
quiet and let them come and go.”
“Did you catch who was coming to their rescue?”
He scowled. “No, but I can guess. All the more reason to sit
here and let them pass. We’ll call off anyone who might have been
stopping here in the next few days…Just keep an ear on things.”

“
It should,” Coy told him again. “They won’t want to give
away their position badly enough to try and hit the ship. And while
“drifting” they can record with their passive scanners at will. Not to
mention what their rescuers will pick up “looking” for them.”

“
So assuming we get what we need from this, and we already
have a good idea about the other two, what next?”
“Next? We talk to all of our friends.”
“I sure as hell hope
that
works too. Because if not…”
“I know,” Coy sighed. “We don’t have a prayer.”

The night was clear over the southern desert on Avalon, and
the Blackbird waited quietly on the sand. Another ship soon came into
view. It hovered over the area only briefly, and then settled quietly
beside the first. Three uniformed men emerged, accompanying another man dressed in dark, casual clothes. They crossed the short distance
between the two ships.

Commander Knepp walked out of the front hatchway on the
‘Bird. He greeted the small entourage there.
“Hello Mr. President,” he said shaking the dignitary’s hand
firmly. “I believe we’re expected shortly, so if you and your men will
follow me...”
The President nodded once, then he and his men walked up the
ramp into the armed yacht. Both ships lifted off together. The President’s ship veered off, and returned the way it came. The Blackbird
clove the air, heading for space---unchallenged by any groundside observers. It had soon left the planet far behind. After reaching a certain
distance, minutes later, it opened a transit point, and vanished.

One by one the 28 dignitaries were escorted by BlackFleet officers in dress uniform from their cabins to the main conference room
on the Raven. Upon entering they each had the same reaction. Surprise
at the size and elegance of the room – and at the number of other
guests.
When everyone was seated and their allotted bodyguards were situated,
Coy stood up from its seat at the front of the room. There was no need
to ask for quiet. Everyone was so skeptical of those gathered around
them, that there was virtually no small talk.

Coy felt unnaturally alone at the head of the long, elegant conference table. No other senior officers were present. After consideration, Coy realized Ceal was not the only person that had reason to
avoid someone in this prestigious company. Nearly every senior officer
in the BlackFleet had come to the fleet after having a parting of the
ways with their former government. Coy thought for a moment of what
those “deserters” and “mutineers” were ready to do for those same
governments.
“I appreciate your speed in coming to this meeting,” it
said formally. “I also appreciate your keeping this meeting an ultra top
secret, as each of you has. Some of you are here because your Favors
remain unpaid. Some of you are here for other reasons. But by
your very
presence, you have displayed the courage and determination to attain
our objective. Thank you.

“
The purpose of this meeting is to do the entire Beta Region a
Favor, one which will help every world represented here. Over the
past several months we have all seen a rapid and unexplainable rise in
the harassment of the shipping industry. Businesses have been disrupted and destroyed, unaccountable amounts of money have been
consumed and many lives have been lost. The BlackFleet has partnered
with many here today in various portions of our ongoing mission to
discover the source and reason behind the attacks. And we have been
successful.

“
We have traced nearly every incident back to a single individual.”
Voices exploded all around the room. Coy let them express
their disbelief for a few minutes before raising its hand for calm.
“This person originally owned three companies-under three
identities. Each one in turn owned several others, which had subsidiaries, and so on until he had, at one time, control over every facet of the
industry. Ship building, engine designs, routing, personnel – everything.
“Then new companies began emerging that weren’t on his
payroll. The first few we believe he simply bought out. But as they
became more plentiful, he had to use other methods. Enter the pirates.
The abrupt ending of hostilities in the Alpha Region left him with a
vast amount of unemployed para military personnel at hand.
“The hits have been varied in style, size, technique and targets.
It has been a challenge to say the least to find the pattern. But the information we have gathered has at last provided us with certain
knowledge of the locations of the three major pirate bases in the region.”
Coy paused as the various leaders digested these words. Some
of them had been trying in vain for at least two years to determine the
locations of even one base. Their amazed faces were quite telling.
“We intend to do something about these bases. We intend to
eliminate piracy in this sector. Many of you have been trying to do so
for a long time. But you’ve been trying to do so within your own systems. It will take more. It will take a coalition of forces, working together. We simply can’t do what needs to be done as separate units.
“What we must do, is to hit these bases in a simultaneous, coordinated strike. Squadrons would be made up of ships representing
different systems. These squadrons would attack designated bases at a
predetermined time.”
Someone raised a hand, and Coy acknowledged the speaker.
“Wouldn’t this assault work better if we kept our squadrons
separate? Kept the units together that are already used to working together?”
“That is a very good question,” Coy replied. “And under normal circumstances it would make perfect sense to do so. But these are
not normal circumstances.
“We intend to send a signal; both to those who have participated in this campaign against civilized humanity, and to the one who has
personally orchestrated it. We are not fractured and alone anymore.
We’ve learned to fight together. And because we have, their day of
preying upon our shipping and commerce is over.”
Coy waited once more as heads began nodding in assent, and
muttered voices filled with more shock and anger. Coy had thought it
was true, and now to see the evidence before it was the greatest encouragement. They were ready.
“The ‘Fleet has been investigating this problem, and we are
poised to strike in order to solve it. But we need your help. I am asking each of you to contribute from your naval forces. We will form
three strike teams. Your C.O.s will submit both themselves and their
squadrons to the authority of the BlackFleet. Once the battle commander has gone over the operation details with the coalition C.O., the
entire squadron will depart immediately for the attack coordinates.”
Coy paused once again, not for effect, not for quiet, but to take
a deep breath. “I know what I am asking of you. I am asking you to
trust neighbors whom you have had hostile dealings with in the past. I
am asking you to work alongside total strangers. I am asking you to
free the Beta Region.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to contact cabinets or
committees or however your governments normally conducts matters
of this import. We need to act in as much secrecy as humanly possible
and we need to act quickly.
“Therefore, I need your answer – now.”
There was a moment of silence. Then King Frederic of
Tenetia rose to his feet.
“You have my full support, Commodore Lamont.”
Coy worked very, very hard at looking solemn and appreciative instead of grinning in relief. “Thank you, Sire.”
The Prime Minister of Melan, having been seated by him,
stood beside him as well.
“And that of Melan, Commodore.”
Person by person, they stood. Some hesitated just long enough
to make sure that their nearest neighbors were on board before committing themselves, but in the end, twenty-five stood in support ,
agreement, and submission, to the BlackFleet.
And in that moment, a terrible, horrifying realization came to
it. The Boogeyman was not the most powerful person in the Region
after all. Coy Lamont was.

Coy stood gazing out of the portal behind its huge desk as it
always did when deep in thought. They were in normal space for the
time being and the stars looked especially beautiful after days of the
swirling chaos of C space. But Coy wasn’t seeing the stars. It was seeing the faces of 25 very powerful people, standing in the conference
room, promising the support of their worlds to its plan.

At this moment twenty five worlds, or at least their military
forces, were under its personal control. The mixture of thoughts and
emotions connected to this fact was impossible to sort out.

A quiet throat clearing from the dark room broke through its
reverie. Coy turned around and saw Asch. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
He seemed to hesitate. “Perhaps I interrupted you for no reason, sir, but…well, you’ve been standing like that for hours. And I was
wondering if everything was alright.”
Coy paused as well before answering. It tried to decide if it
was annoyed at the interruption, amused by Asch’s compulsive “mothering”, or grateful for the concern. “No imminent breakdown if that’s
what you mean. But I think I need to talk to someone.”
“Whom should I contact, sir?”
“Yourself, for one. Ken, Raeph, Ceal…and Walter.”
“Very well,” Asch said slowly. It disturbed him that the commodore used first names instead of rank. It seemed to indicate an issue
more personal than military. “Immediately?”
“Yes, please,” it answered and turned back to the stars.

True to the apparently personal nature of the meeting, the
group was sitting on the couches instead of at the long table. Coy was
still peering out at space for the first few minutes.

Finally, Ken Butler couldn’t stand it any longer. “This isn’t
another one of your ‘I can’t lead…’ speeches is it?”
Ceal looked at him. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
Shut up, Ken.”
“Actually,” Coy began, turning from the port at last and joining them, “I hope it doesn’t come to that.” At their stunned expressions, it continued. “Standing in front of all of those planetary rulers,
leaders and advisors, I realized something absolutely terrifying.”
“The fate of their worlds was in your hands,” Bon said quietly.
“Exactly,” Coy breathed in relief that they did understand.
“I’m sure even Ken has heard the old saying about power corrupting,
and absolute power corrupting absolutely.”
“You really think you’re going to let all of this go to your head
and turn into someone like the Boogeyman?” Butler blinked in shock.
“You’re a totally different person!”
“I am at the moment.”
“You are, period,” Schiff put in. “Do you think he has meetings like this and worries about having too much control?”
Coy had to smile a little at the image. “Probably not. But I am.
And I am going to continue them. And I want everyone in this room to
swear that the first time they see me do anything out of line with our
BlackFleet directives they will call me on it.”
“Alright,” Ceal said with conviction, “if you swear you will
call on us the moment that any of this gets too much for you to deal
with alone. This is bigger than anything any of us dreamed of when it
all started. You need to have outlets – and use them.”
“She’s right,” Bon agreed. Schiff nodded as well.
If Coy had been going to argue in any way with this, it would
have stopped when Asch joined the conversation. “Sir, don’t think of it
as a personal flaw to need this team. When I think back to all of the
people I have served in this room in the past year, it has been this particular group that has made some of the most important decisions and
discoveries. We represent every facet of the Fleet: Captain Butler is
the command staff, Major Schiff the fighting personnel, Doctor Byars
the support staff, Captain Bon the hardware and myself the non military functions. Using this, committee if you will, to check what is appropriate action for the Fleet, is simply using the best tool for the job.”
They all pondered that for a moment and realized he was quite
right. The people here together, except for the somewhat later addition
of Asch, were the literal founding members of the BlackFleet.
“So,” Ken again broke the silence. “Is this team or committee
or tool or whatever we are, really ready to lead this Region in battle?”
Coy looked them over, feeling the determination and confidence it had been doubting just an hour before, return. So this was
what it felt like to have people behind you believing in you – this was
what it was like to have friends. “Ready or not,” it told them, “here we
come.”

Coy, Ken , Mara Hendricks, and Adrian Rebel, the battle
commanders for the proposed three part attack, worked long into
that
night. In the back of its mind, Coy knew there was no way to plan for
every contingency, no plan perfect enough to keep every BlackFleet
member alive and well.

“You’re sure about the
Raven
,” Ken asked for not the first
time.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Coy told him, again. “I want to be in the
Nebula, but the
Raven
needs to be at Tai Han. Just bring it back to me
in one piece if you don’t mind.” Coy checked its notes. “With the other
two battle cruisers…” it was interrupted as a call came through. “Aziza to Lamont.”
“Lamont. Go ahead.”
“Skipper, we just got a call from…well, you’ve got to talk to
him, sir.”
Coy frowned at its wristcom. Now was not a good time for
complications. “Talk to him about what, Lieutenant?”
“I think he wants join the war.”
Coy frowned in puzzlement. “Another world?”
“No, sir , I believe he is a mercenary.”
The three commanders looked at each other. Mara leaned back
in her seat. “I gotta hear this.”

A moment later the holographic figure appeared on Coy’s vidcom.
Hendricks sat back up. “I know him! He was the guy that was
looking for you.”
“Comma….” the figure began, then stopped cold. “Lamont?
Coy
Lamont?!”
“Captain Zachary,” Coy answered. It expected to be horrified,
enraged, anguished. Instead it felt- nothing. “What can I do for you?”
“Wait a minute.
You’re
the crazy mercenary whose been taking over the Region?”
Coy took a breath and spoke very calmly. So calm and controlled in fact that it was scaring Butler. “We are on a bit of a tight
schedule, Captain, so if you could please get to the point?”

Zachary took pause at its tone and expression. He frowned as
well. “You may be Coy Lamont, but no Lamont I ever knew. Sure
don’t sound like Aubry’s little…”

“
The
point
, Captain.”
“Alright,
Commodore
. The point is after Aubry’s death there
was no unity in the fleet. Everybody was getting tired of Corbett real
fast. Anybody who wanted to do more than escort service or transit
guard duty left. Since I mostly owned my ship, I was one of them. A
good number of crew came with me.