Morgan's Return

Morgan’s Return

By

Greta van der Rol

Morgan’s Return

Copyright ©2013 Greta van der Rol

First electronic edition

ISBN: 978-0-9873871-2-7

Published in the United States of America with international distribution.

Cover Design by Greta van der Rol

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner  except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dedication
:

To everyone who asked for a sequel.

Chapter 1  

A
ripple of excitement shimmied down Ravindra's spine. He leaned forward as far as he could in his harness, anxious for his first view of an inhabited, non-Manesai planet. The display focused on Iniciara as soon as the ship reverted to normal space, revealing expanses of blue water, swirling white cloud masses and, beyond the terminator line, a veritable blaze of artificial light. Beside him, Morgan leaned forward, too.

He glanced over at her. "So you're happy to be home?"

Morgan's eyebrows came together for an instant. "Huh?" She grinned at him. "It's hardly home, but I guess it's a human world. No, I was looking at the traffic. And collecting data."

The view of the planet expanded, zooming in on the space station hanging in planetary orbit, a tall cylinder turning slowly on its own axis, its lights competing with the reflection from the system's sun. This was a big station. He counted the levels, ten or twelve of them, each with ships buried into the bays like fleas into a host. As they approached, a ship backed slowly out of its bay, turned and headed off into space. There were plenty of others waiting to take its place. Flashing running lights away from the main traffic lanes showed dozens of ships of all sizes.

"A busy place." Busier than any planet he'd visited back home. But apart from that, this blue and white orb could have been anywhere, its characteristics typical of an inhabited world. From a distance, anyway.

"Yeah. I'm sucking in data from the station. Looks like we're well inside the Coalition's boundaries. This planet is densely populated. Very. There are ships here from everywhere." She sat up straight. "That's good, in a way. We won't attract attention."

Frowning slightly, she rested her chin on her fist.

"What's the problem?"

"This." Without lifting a finger she shifted the ship's sensors to bear on a vessel to starboard.

He ought to be used to it by now, but the notion she could run the whole ship with the computer in her brain still amazed him. His attention shifted to the ship on the screen, a tramp freighter if he was any judge, its sides scarred, the paint work faded and peeling. The red letters on its flank were illegible. Two smaller ships, one on each side, appeared to be escorts. The big white letters on their sides formed the word 'Patrol'.

"Being escorted in?" he asked.

"Looks like it. Maybe it has broken down, or something. That's a tug at her stern."

Yes, a tug. The stubby design with the huge bank of engines would have cried out 'tug' anywhere.

"Admiral, we have a transmission coming in." Davaskar looked over his shoulder from the captain's seat.

"
Iniciara control to yacht
Curlew
, please proceed to the following coordinates and heave to. A patrol boat will meet you and give further instructions
."

The muscles in Ravindra's torso clenched. So. They were to be boarded. A challenge at the first hurdle. Morgan had used the identifiers for the ship she had travelled in to reach Manesai space, at least until she had a chance to change to something else. What if they recognized this wasn't the same ship?

Morgan seemed to be able to read his thoughts. "I don't think they could possibly suspect we're not what we sent them, Ashkar."

Ravindra noted the slight frown. "Not an alert, in case the original
Curlew
's ID appears at a station? No chance they'd realize the configuration is different?"

She shook her head, sending her mass of slightly curly hair dancing around her shoulders. "These planetary administrations are stand-alone bureaucracies. They don't exchange much data unless there's a specific, urgent reason. I don't think Makasa would have put out a general alert.
Curlew
was an experimental ship, and its journey was top secret. It's been nearly two years since I left Belsun station. Makasa would know that I was carrying out repairs, and that we high-tailed it out of there with a patrol ship on our stern. The best explanation was the obvious one; disappeared in shift space, all crew lost. I think we'll just have to play it as it happens."

Given the same circumstances, Ravindra agreed he would have come to the same conclusion as her previous commander. Even so, they would have to be careful.

"Captain, set your course. Everyone is to have their contact lenses in place. Get a message to Prasad and Tullamarran." Ravindra rose to his feet, smiling slightly. Time for the first test to see if all the training, the practice, the contact lenses would do the job. He loved the anticipation of going into action. He stepped through the bridge hatch into the corridor, with Morgan a pace behind him.

Morgan chuckled, that sexy, throaty giggle he'd learned to love. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He turned, and gathered her up in a brief, one-armed hug. "The moment of truth, my love."

Ravindra strode the short distance to their shared quarters and slipped on the contact lenses, blinking them into place. They were surprisingly comfortable, designed for him, and they hardly obscured his vision, just adding a slight haze at the top and bottom when he rolled his eyes. Even that sensation faded as his brain compensated for the minor obstruction. Morgan's silver eyes had disappeared behind blue orbs in a white field. He had to agree she looked less intimidating.

She grinned at him. "You'll pass. You look a lot less scary, though."

"Do I?"

"Oh, yes. Your amber cat's eyes would scare the stuffing out of your average human."

"I'll bear that in mind."

Ravindra took a seat in the ship's common room, with Morgan beside him. His good friend, Senior Commander Prasad, was already there, his yellow eyes hidden behind brown contact lenses. Prasad had been Ravindra's senior intelligence officer for some time, and he'd jumped at the chance of coming on a visit to Morgan's home. The prospect of being boarded was bound to have him asking questions.

"Can you think of any reason why we're being stopped?" Prasad asked Morgan.

"No. I don't mind telling you it gives me the jitters." Morgan rubbed her hands together, sliding fingertips against fingertips.

"So this is unusual?" Prasad asked.

"They pulled all our data when we passed the jump beacon. Normally, we'd just cruise up to the station." Morgan tapped her fist against her lips. "Something must be going down, but I can't see how it has anything to do with us."

Ravindra exchanged a glance with Prasad. "Let's see what happens. We have to start somewhere, and this is where Artemis came from." Artemis, the great expeditionary ship with its artificial intelligence and its cloned soldiers. If he closed his eyes he could see the giant ship taking its final run into a star.

Prasad's eyebrows jerked. "Yes, this is where Artemis came from, but not the people who created the Krystor temple. Which is what we're looking for."

Ravindra turned to Morgan. She had that frowning, closed-in look she wore when she was worried. "It's up to you. Stay, or run for somewhere else?"

She huffed out a breath. "Might as well stay. If we run now we'll attract more attention. And at least this planet is Coalition, so I'll find it easier to fix bank accounts, and the ship's identifier."

Prasad shrugged.

Morgan glared at him.

Ravindra raised a hand. "Relax. Let's get this boarding out of the way."

"Sure." She lounged back, her hands behind her head.

The posture caused her breasts to push up against her pale grey shirt. Ravindra admired the view until she sat up, chewing absently on a fingernail, watching the approaching patrol ship grow ever larger on the display, angling around to run broadside with their ship.

"Can you read anything from them?" he asked.

"The transmissions are coded," she said. "I could break the codes but what's the point? Let's see what it's about."

She'd already set the external airlock, sucking out the air and opening the hatch to space. The patrol ship stood to, matching
Curlew's
alignment. A hatch in the ship's side opened, and four figures emerged, moving swiftly to cross the gap between the two ships.

"Propulsion packs. No mucking about with lines." Morgan stood. "We'd better let them in."

Ravindra followed Morgan along a corridor into the cargo bay, and waited with her beside the hatch, watching the gauge as the air pressure rose in the airlock, the indicator fading from orange to yellow to green. Hissing, the hatch slid aside. Two armored figures stepped forward, their faces invisible behind tinted faceplates. Short-barreled weapons were held loosely across their bodies, muzzles down. The message was obvious: 'we're armed but that's fine if you behave yourselves'.

"Welcome aboard," Ravindra said. "What can we do for you?"

The visor on the shorter man's helmet cleared, revealing a shrewd-eyed, older man whose gaze flicked over Ravindra, then Morgan, who leaned against the bulkhead. "Are you the captain?"

"No, I'm the owner. The captain is on the bridge. My name is Ravindra." The fellow would already know that from the data transmissions
Curlew
had sent to the space station.

"We'll need to search your ship, Sir. It shouldn't take long." The man's tone was courteous and business-like.

Ravindra stepped aside. "Of course."

The other two troopers joined their colleagues in the hold. One trooper headed aft toward the storage holds, while the other two clumped off to the passenger cabins and the bridge.

"What are you looking for? Drugs? Contraband?" Ravindra asked the leader.

"Drugs, contraband, people." The officer lifted a shoulder, his lips curved briefly in a humorless smile. "We're stopping all foreign ships. It's just routine."

Morgan straightened up. "You have a problem with slavers?"

The man looked her over in far too personal a way. Ravindra quelled the frisson of annoyance.

"You're the engineer?" the officer asked.

"Yes." She stared right back at him. "You have slavers here?"

The commander acknowledged the implied rebuke with the barest nod. "It has been known to happen."

"Is that what the freighter is about? The ragged ship with the tug?"

He locked eyes with her for a moment. "The ship has broken down. We're bringing it in for repair."

"Hence the tug at her stern." Ravindra shot a glance at Morgan. Sometimes she didn't know when to shut up.

The commander nodded. "That's right. Break-downs happen. How long do you intend staying?"

"We'll stay here for a day or so, replenish supplies, and then head out," Ravindra said.

"Where have you been?"

It was on the route plan, Ravindra knew, but his own people would have been asking the same sorts of questions. "We're from Coromandel. I retired a couple of months ago and decided to take a closer look at the galaxy. I'd heard the lava flows on Rimatta were something to see. And they were. Then we spent a few days admiring the forests on Tel Sanna. We've come from there." He reeled off the story they'd all learnt during the trip through shift space.

Hard eyes focused on his face. "Uh-huh. What did you retire from?"

"I was a Fleet Admiral." Meet his gaze, man to man. It showed honesty, Morgan had said. Some of these customs were going to prove difficult. Back at home, Ravindra would have slapped this fellow down for insolence.