Rookie Privateer (8 page)

I was stunned and didn't even know how to respond. She gave me a peck on the cheek and a swat on the bum, then walked up into the freighter without so much as turning around. Wow, did she know how to make an exit
.

Colony 40 falls within the jurisdiction of the Mars Protectorate. Roughly a tenth of the asteroid belt that occupies the space between Mars and Jupiter is under this Protectorate. The North American Federation has claim to fifteen percent, India claims another ten percent and China claims twenty. Other nations make claims, but have no capability of defending or enforcing their will in those areas.

The claims on these vast regions of space are generally a little ridiculous. The number of cubic kilometers in one percent of the belt is orders of magnitude larger than any individual nation. To most, however, claims of ownership appear to be an agreement between these nations more than some sort of patrol area.

The Mars Protectorate is much different. Mars was founded as a nation by representatives from each of Earth's countries. The history of the Mars Protectorate isn't much different than that of how the United States (predecessor to the North American Federation) was founded many centuries ago. Governments on Earth were making decisions for and about the citizens of Mars. The citizens rebelled. It was mostly a bloodless revolt, simply because Earth's nations didn't have the military capability to enforce their will over such a great distance.

Over the next several centuries, the citizens of Mars, under a single government, focused on building defenses and transforming the planet. It now had a breathable atmosphere and served as a busy base for the miners venturing into the asteroid belt.

With no other nations abutting, the threat of war was only possible across the vast expanse of space. The Protectorate was able to concentrate all of its security forces into a single entity which became known as the Mars Protectorate Navy. The Navy had two main missions. The first was defense and the second was as the peace keeping arm of the Judiciary.

A throbbing red light in my peripheral vision indicated I had received a priority communication. I nodded slightly, telling my AI to retrieve the message. The comm I received was in vid format from a Commander L.L. Sterra of the Naval Corvette
Kuznetsov
. The camera focused on a well groomed, middle aged woman in a dark blue flight suit. Her suit was adorned with a passant, also known as an epaulette, or shoulder strap, resting on the top of each shoulder. The passants were the same dark blue material as the flight suit and boasted gold stitching in the shape of a comet, complete with tail on the inside, next to the neck. Her rank was indicated by four bars stitched between the comet and her shoulder.

Commander Sterra's face was narrow.
She boasted a thin nose and her hair was close cut, with the beginning streaks of gray. She seemed to be a very serious woman, but her voice was pleasant. I imagined that could change quickly.

"
Greetings, Liam Peter Hoffen. Please listen to this recording in its entirety. You will be given an opportunity to respond to each of the charges at your formal hearing. First, you have the right not to respond directly to this message. Second, the responses you provide to this recording can be used as evidence in any matter before the Mars Judiciary. In order to listen to the contents of this message, you must first acknowledge these two rights by repeating them." She delivered these words as if she had said them many times before.

My AI prompted me,
I have the right of no response
. I repeated the words and heard a confirmation chime.

Any response I provide can be used in any matter before the Mars Judiciary
, it prompted again. It took me a couple of shots to get it right and I wondered if my stumbling responses would be reviewed by Commander Sterra.

The image began speaking again,
"Very good. There are three issues concerning you for which I have been given judicial oversight." She looked down at a reading panel in front of her, "First, the matter of the deaths of Earth-Mars Citizens Gaben Fuse, Ajun Benda, and Liet 'Bobby' Zui."

She looked back to her pad,
"The second matter is the destruction of property on Colony 40, specifically the removal of foam-sealing safety containers and the release of their contents in the security control tower."

I gasped and pushed the hold key, not wanting to inadvertently provide a reply. I was furious. This was a pile of crap. I stewed for a few minutes
, but decided I needed to get through it, so I pressed play again.

"
The third is the matter of privateer's claim of salvage filed on your behalf." Commander Sterra looked up from her tablet and her face softened slightly. "Liam, I urge you to obtain counsel on the first two matters. If you are unable to afford competent legal counsel, it will be provided to you at no cost. I have already been in contact with your counsel, Mr. Ordena, with respect to the privateer claim. I will arrive at Colony 40 within seventy-two hours to convene a court hearing. Sterra out." The video faded to black and cut off.

To say I was stunned was an understatement. I was accused of killing pirates and destruction of the station.

I pinged Nick, who was quick to pick up.

"
Did you get a message from Mars Judiciary?" I asked.

"
Yup, she must have sent mine first. I just got off the comm with Mr. Ordena," Nick replied.

"
So what did he have to say?"

"
He said we should ask for legal counsel from the Mars Judiciary. Commander Sterra was clearly giving us her opinion and we would be wise to take the hint. None of the lawyers on the colony have any experience with this type of thing. Ordena said he sure didn't."

I pondered this for a minute,
"Do you suppose Commander Sterra brings a defense lawyer with her?"

"
She'd almost have to. Look, we didn't do anything to the Navy so they don't have a reason to mess with us. I've already made the request. Oh, and you need to sign that thing Ordena sent you. Basically, we created a corporation between you, me and Tabby. Company name is Loose Nuts. Ordena said it gives us an edge in our claim. Just sign it, though. We need to have it before the Navy shows up."

I decided to take Nick’s advice and requested a public defender.
I also signed the document that had been successfully ignored in my in-box and sent it on to Mr. Ordena. "Have to admit I was surprised Sterra brought it up," I said.

"
Mr. Ordena says it's a good sign. Commander Sterra had the authority to deny our claim of salvage without hearing arguments, but she didn’t. That means she is considering it," Nick explained and then changed gears. "When will you be able to talk to Tabby?"

"
They are still in hard burn. Radio transmissions are blocked for a couple of weeks yet."

Nick and I met up the next day to watch as the
Kuznetsov
was nudged into place by a seemingly never ending series of micro adjustments. At one hundred and twenty meters long, the Kuznetsov was shaped something like an arrow with six long tapered tubes strapped to the back third. A good portion of the surface of the ship was covered with turrets and missile launchers.

Spindly arms unfolded from the station and attached magnetically to several key points along the length of the hull. Docking collars from two different docking bays were extended and mated up to the docking rings of the
Kuznetsov
. The whole process took the better part of a couple of hours. Nick and I sat and watched from an observation dome a couple hundred meters above the equator of the station.

I finally broke the silence,
"Frak, that thing is death on a stick."

I had never seen a ship that sleek. Most crafts on a mining colony were meant for moving large amounts of material from one place to another. A high premium was given to moving large volume and mass and virtually no consideration for the aesthetic. The lines of the
Kuznetsov
were sleek, the paint was a satiny black.

"
It's all about sensor signatures." Nick broke my reverie.

"
What do you mean?"

"
It has clean lines so enemy sensors can't easily pick it up. Imagine if it was sailing directly at you. It would be nearly impossible to see. Its skin is all about absorbing and confusing sensors."

"
Look at all those slug-throwers tucked into the side of the ship. I'd hate to get into a fight with that thing. Hard to imagine it's one of the smallest ships of the line."

Nick nodded in agreement and then changed the subject,
"Did you get an invite to meet with a Lieutenant Commander Telish?"

"
1800? Yeah. I think he is our public defender."

"
Agreed. Let’s head down there. I don't want to be late. We only have thirty minutes."

We rode a lift down to the same level as the docking bays. The station's docking bays were used every couple of months when family trading company ships would dock up. The trading companies created a lot of excitement on the station, filling the bay with trade goods.

The docking bay had the familiar black L-1 stamped on the wall. It struck me as odd to see it quite so empty. When a family trading company showed up, they spread goods across tables and many people moved between the tables looking at the trader's offerings. Everything from exotic food to ship parts and anything in between could be expected and the place took on a festive atmosphere.

Today the bay was almost completely empty. The
Kuznetsov
utilized two separate bays and all of the refueling and ship maintenance tasks were taking place in the lower bay. Two figures were standing by a docking ring on the space-side edge, otherwise there were no others in the bay. Nick and I crossed over and approached the occupants. Both wore armored suits and stood relatively motionless with their feet slightly less than a shoulder width apart.

The armored suits on our local sheriff deputies were nothing more than a bulky vest over a flight suit. The armor worn by these two was closely fitted and followed their body’s every contour. It was thicker than a normal space suit
, but rippled with the slight movements they made while waiting for us to approach. The armor had a similar satin textured finish as the ship and was the bright royal blue of the Navy. I correctly assumed they were Marines, as opposed to regular Navy.

The Marine on the left held a long-barreled weapon comfortably across her chest.
One hand was on the stock with easy access to the trigger. The other hand gripped under the barrel. I was a little embarrassed to notice how well the suit conformed to her body. What must have been a well-muscled body was nicely highlighted by the slight extra bulk of the suit. Above her right breast was the text: Marine, above her left was the name: Gunders. She didn't have any rank insignia, which meant she was a private. She also wore a holster on her right thigh holding a pistol. Physically, she was very intimidating.

The Marine on the right had a rank insignia on his upper arm below the shoulder. It was two upside down Vs with the familiar Mars Protectorate Navy comet beneath them (I later learned this indicated the rank of
corporal). I wasn't interested at all in how his suit fit, although he looked very tough as well. He also wore a pistol holster, but instead of a long gun, he held a reading pad. His name patch read Dahwan.

"
State your name and business." Corporal Dahwan looked up from his reading pad.

"
Nick James, Liam Hoffen to see Lieutenant Commander Telish."

The corporal held his reading tablet up, facing us,
"Retinal scan."

Nick and I bumped shoulders, inadvertently both trying to comply at the same time. To the corporal's credit he didn't even crack a grin at our bumbling.

"Follow me." Corporal Dahwan turned and rotated the wheel-shaped chrome handle that disengaged the mechanism of the docking bay's airlock. The heavy door swung inward and we followed him down the telescoping hallway connecting the bay to the ship. The airlock door on the ship side required the corporal to push on a slightly inset panel within the door. The panel pulsed green a couple of times at the presence of his hand and then the door seal released, swinging into the ship.

"
Gravity point nine five," the corporal informed us as he walked through the door. The additional gravity pressed my body down onto my new prosthetic ankle and foot. So far the nano-tech had done a great job of healing up and toughening my leg. I grunted into the pain. To take some weight off of my stub, I pushed down on my left crutch.

Once both Nick and I were through, the door closed automatically behind us. The hallway we entered was two meters wide and painted pearly white.

Stairs were something I didn't often encounter in the station. Fortunately, we must have entered mid-deck because the steps didn’t go far. They only went two meters in both directions, although at a fairly sharp angle. In addition to the hand rails on the stairs, there were also handholds along the ceilings. It didn't take much imagination to think that sometimes they would be operating in zero gravity and the stairs would be just a pitched corridor. For me it was a new experience with my crutches.