The Veritian Derelict (Junkyard Dogs) (19 page)

Captain Nassar
thumbed a button on the communications console to start a video on the conference room's large viewscreen.

A grim-looking
and somewhat disheveled Admiral Harriet Kingston, sitting nervously behind a tiny desk in a small conference room, came into view. A Federation Navy logo hanging on the wall behind her was slightly crooked, as though it had been knocked askew and no one had yet had time or inclination to straighten it out.

"
This is a message to all Federation Naval personnel in the Santana Quadrant," Kingston began, tersely. "Just over two hours ago, the Santana Nexus Station complex was overrun by hostile forces. We believe that the ships are from the navies of at least three of the major governments that are or used to be part of the Islamic Alliance. At least one of the ships publically defected from the Meridian government just before the attack. As far as we know, the station was not damaged significantly in the attack. In fact, we're almost certain that damaging the station was not the primary objective of the hostilities. I and most of my staff were able to escape in a cutter and took refuge on an undamaged Federation destroyer. I am not revealing my whereabouts for obvious reasons."

Kingston paused to examine her notes for a moment before continuing. "
The situation at the Nexus is not an isolated incident. It appears as though there have been simultaneous attacks on many Federation installations throughout this Quadrant and at least one of the other Quadrants but Fortress Earth has not yet been attacked, at least as far as we know. Federation forces will be regrouping out here as best we can over the next few days."

Kingston stopped and looked directly into the video pickup. "
In the meantime, I regret to inform you that we appear to be at war with enemies yet to be fully determined and that all of you are on your own until further notice. I will relay more information as it becomes available but I must warn you now that Stage II Whitney broadcasts such as this one will be spotty. Consolidate your resources and prepare to defend Federation installations. This enemy is almost certainly spread even more thinly than we are but we do not know where they might concentrate their forces for another attack. As usual, I expect you all to do your best. Carry on! Kingston out."

The admiral faded out and the screen shifted over to
a view of the crooked Federation Navy Logo for perhaps three seconds before fading to black and then going completely blank. There was a short, stunned silence in the conference room before anyone spoke up.

"
I have additional information," continued the Ambassador. "There are similar problems all over the quadrant. Not only have there been simultaneous attacks on more than a half dozen Federation facilities, including the Santana Nexus, but the Central Government on my home planet of Meridian has been under siege for more than a day now. We don't know if the Prime Minister has survived or not. We also do not know which faction is responsible, though we have some potential candidates. Additional attacks on several other planetary governments and isolated orbital stations are also underway. Commander Kresge?"

Kresge
cleared his throat. "The situation is worse than we thought. Before these new developments, there was to be no reinforcement for us out here for several weeks at the very best. These current developments change all that. We must proceed with the understanding that we are on our own out here and are likely to be so for the foreseeable future. Any questions?"

The room broke out into a storm of noise. The Ambassador held up his hands and called
in vain for order for several minutes. Finally the Kresge waved his hands and shouted, using his best command voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please!" The noise level finally died down.

The A
mbassador pointed to one of the dignitaries. "Bishop, Sinclair?"

"Do you mean to inform
us that we are stranded out here for an unknown amount of time?"

"Yes, Your Reverence, that would appear to be the case
," replied the Ambassador.

"
This is completely unacceptable!" someone shouted and the room again broke out into a chaos of competing demands.

The clamor went on for another fifteen minutes before everyone calmed down a little, resigned to the situation, at least for the time being.
After a couple more desultory questions, the diplomats and religious leaders filed out, many of them muttering angrily, leaving the Federation Scrapyard delegation and the Ambassador's small entourage consisting of his wife Sondia, Lieutenant Harvick, Ensign Carlisle, Davis-Moore and F.C. Talbot. As soon as the door closed behind the departing dignitaries, Kresge began the real discussion.

"Finally! We can get down to business. With your permission, Excellency?"

"By all means, Commander, go ahead."

"I need to inform you all of our current status
and you should all know that the situation wasn't all that good before these new developments. Prior to the departure of the small Federation task force that responded to the terrorist crisis out here a couple of months ago, I was authorized to use whatever means I had at my disposal to defend this system and its inhabitants. Given this new information, I fear that matters may be even worse than we thought, as we may well be the only Federation authority in this entire corner of the Quadrant."

Kresge paused for a moment to let the information sink in, his eyes scanning
his small audience before he continued.

"
This means that we have responsibility for New Ceylon, Patagonia and Malta and maybe four or five other planets. We might as well include Heard's World as well. I don't have to tell any of you that with what we have for assets, this defensive responsibility is going to be a very difficult task. The communications burst I just received contained additional unpleasant information. Way too many of the most remote outposts are not checking in anymore. At one of them, an unknown group may have managed to hijack a Tunisian destroyer. We have a report that the destroyer's crew might have been able to scuttle some of the systems on the ship before it was captured but we don't know for sure. If there is any truth to the report, that ship is loose out here in this part of the quadrant. There may be others that we haven't received any intel about. We are also to gather any information we can on this Sheik of Barsoom.

I have informed the New Ceylon Orbital Station that we do not have the means to provide protection for them and have suggested that they evacuate as many people as possible to the planet or to other star systems. Governor Larkin and most of his staff have gone down to the planet
already. Irene Marshall and a handful of others will be on their way out here to the Scrapyard on the remaining Naval cutter sometime in the next few hours." He looked around the room. "Anybody got any ideas?"

Helen Murdock raised her hand. Kresge nodded. "Go ahead, Captain Murdock."

"I suggest we move forward with the repairs to the
Greyhound
. Without hyper capability, she doesn't have a prayer."

"I was going to suggest that myself,
Captain Murdock. We will continue with our other salvage operations as well on the off chance that the scheduled pick up will go as planned. The parts currently on order could allow the Federation to bring several ships back into service or up to speed and the Navy is going to need all of the ships she can cobble together. Any other ideas?"

Carlisle tentatively raised her hand. Kresge nodded. "
Dr. Carlisle?"

"
... Armed merchants... Scrapyard attack... I... I think we should consider arming the
Greyhound
and maybe the
Istanbul
. Those armed freighters that we fought out here a month or so ago showed that it can be done and having some kind of defensive and offensive capability will no doubt be vital in the coming weeks."

Kresge and the Ambassador looked at one another
and nodded. "An excellent suggestion," said the Ambassador. Kresge nodded agreement.

Harvick looked at Carlisle with renewed wonder.

"Yes, I think we should get started on these projects immediately," said Kresge.

Talbot raised his hand.

"What is it, Dr. Talbot?"

"As
some of you know," the old man replied, "I used to be an engineer; a pretty good one if I say so myself. I know it was a long time ago but let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"I'll keep that in mind
, Dr. Talbot. Thanks for the offer."

The old man nodded.

After
a bit more conversation, it was time for the meeting to break up.

"
Nothing further?" asked Kresge. Upon seeing no response, he announced, "This meeting is adjourned."

"
Lieutenant Harris, stay here if you please, the Ambassador and I would like a word."

Harris waited behind
as the room emptied out. Finally there was only him, the Commander and the Ambassador remaining.

"
Begging your pardon, Excellency," said Kresge. "I understand that we are operating under some...special circumstances but I would like to request the services of your 'historian.' Can you do without her for a while?"

"I would have to add my own request, Ambassador
Saladin," said Harris, immediately understanding the logic of Kresge's request. "She was invaluable to us when we resurrected that old destroyer out here. As you just witnessed a couple of minutes ago, she has a knack for coming up with really good ideas."

"By all means, Gentlemen
," said the Ambassador. "We can work around that. Anything we can do to increase our defensive capabilities must be initiated immediately. Just be careful not to reveal her cover. To do so would create all sorts of complications on board this ship and could place her personal safety in jeopardy. Unless you are totally sure of those around you, behave as if you don't know her. I don't even trust the man they sent out as the official liaison. Though I will admit that he appears to be fairly competent so far."

"
Harvick? I don't know anything about him either," replied Kresge. "We'll be careful, Excellency." Harris nodded in agreement.

"I'll have her gather her gear together and join you in the suit room. It should only take a few minutes.
But we would like her to spend her evenings here onboard the
Istanbul
. Sondia and I both feel much safer when she is at hand."

The Ambassador chuckled.

"What is it, Excellency?" asked Kresge.

"I must say that
I believe she will much prefer these new duties to her current ones!"

Chapter
26.

"...Thank you for purchasing a Hartwell Wrist computer. This fine product is a breakthrough design that has created a whole new style and level of effectiveness for a human-computer interface. Capable of the entire suite of functions and displays that could previously only be performed by machines of much larger dimensions, this superb device still has no equal. The interface can be operated by voice and by the incomparable cyberdex virtual keyboard. The latest models have even incorporated recent breakthroughs in brainwave stimulation technology.* One of the most useful features of the Hartwell Wrist Computer is the ability of the operator to make full use of its capabilities while inside the confines of a space suit. These little devices are widely sought after by anyone who wishes to be on the cutting edge of computer capability...

*This feature requires additional training and the use of the proprietary
'cyberdex cranial sensor net,' available at extra cost..."

Hartwell Wristcomp reference note highlighted for further review by Amanda Steuben.
Excerpt is from the Hartwell Wrist Computer owner's manual.

New Ceylon Orbital Station. December 3, 2598.

Irene Marshall couldn't help feeling anxious as she flitted about her small apartment, making decisions about what to leave and what to take. Oskar Kresge had called her
from the Reclamation Center just an hour earlier with news that hostilities had broken out all over the Santana Quadrant. Oskar had informed her that the orbital station that was home to Irene and another 3000 people was too big and too vulnerable to be properly defended with the forces at hand and that, as a result, a decision had been made to abandon the station for the foreseeable future. Oskar had further instructed her to take a seat on the remaining shuttlecraft and come out to the Scrapyard. Kathy Haines and Salvador Vasquez, now the Director and Deputy Director of Station Security, were remaining behind with a skeleton crew of technicians to keep the orbital station operating at what amounted to a standby level.

The Federation Navy had promised
to make a warship available to the planetary governor to guard the system but no ship had shown up so far. As thin as the Navy's resources were spread, Irene didn't think such a ship would be arriving anytime soon, if at all. Since her position as undersecretary required a considerable measure of diplomatic ability, it also occurred to her that Oskar and the Ambassador were probably going to need her help with the veritable storm of diplomatic issues associated with the conglomeration of unwilling "guests" onboard the
Istanbul
. She sighed as she thought about it.

The
cutter was going to be crammed with people, probably twenty-five or so, which was right at its maximum capacity. With her would be several of the station personnel that she had fought alongside with during the terrorist takeover of the orbital station including Orville Steuben's wife, Allison and their daughter, Amanda. Irene and the other personnel had been informed that space was limited and that they were going to have to pack as lightly as they could. She wondered if there would be adequate accommodations for everyone out at the Scrapyard but between the
Greyhound
,
Istanbul
and Davis-Moore's
Dingo
, they should be able to absorb another two dozen souls without too much trouble.

Irene had also arranged for
the transport of as much food as she could lay her hands on and began to worry anew just how long they might be required to hold out in the Scrapyard. More hands meant the ability to do more work but would also be putting a greater strain on all of their resources, from life support systems to food supplies to waste disposal facilities. Oskar had informed her that he wasn't overly worried about oxygen or water as there were practically unlimited supplies in the thousands of old ships out in the Scrapyard. This meant that their biggest worry was likely to be food.

She continued with her preparations.

***

Elsewhere on the orbital station,
Amanda Steuben could barely think straight as she too flitted excitedly around her small quarters, deciding what to bring along with her out to the Scrapyard and what to leave behind on the station, perhaps never to be seen again. Her mother was already packed and, at Irene Marshall's behest, was out coordinating the packaging of a large quantity of food and other goods to be transported out to the scrapyard in an external transport module strapped to the belly of the cutter.

Amanda's
parents, without her knowledge, had been part of the group of smugglers who had operated onboard the New Ceylon Orbital Station under the noses of Station Security for several years before terrorists from the Veritian Brotherhood had disrupted everything by forcing their way in and taking over the station. A special hideout that the smugglers had constructed in the outermost (and mostly unoccupied) levels of the station had provided an invaluable staging area as Oskar Kresge, the remaining Station security personnel and the members of the smuggling ring united to mount a successful resistance to the terrorist occupation. Because the members of the smuggling ring had eagerly participated in the effort to rescue the kidnapped Governor and liberate the station, the smugglers had all been pardoned.

The loosely knit organization
still had some fairly large supplies of goods left over from their smuggling activities. These were to have been sold off and the proceeds split between the smugglers and the station authorities but there had not yet been sufficient time for those transactions to take place. Fortunately for the effort to restore operations in the Navy's Scrapyard, the group had several large caches of frozen, irradiated and dehydrated food that they were donating to the Scrapyard expedition.

Amanda was
excited about the move, to say the least, she had always been a dedicated student and enjoyed her school work but a trip to the Scrapyard and a War? This was going to be an adventure that she didn't want to miss out on!

She felt a thrill run through her as s
he continued with her packing.

***

A half hour later, Irene stopped in at Doebermanns' Specialties, the large department store on the first level of the orbital station's ring, a facility that carried goods of all descriptions. She wanted to stock up on some toiletry items including a waterless shampoo that Oskar was particularly fond of. She found several of the items she was looking for, including the last two remaining bottles of Oskar's shampoo, but a great deal of the store's inventory had already been stripped from the shelves. She went to the end of a long checkout line but was waved over to an empty lane by Daniel Gibbons, the head procurer for the store and a former kingpin of the smuggling operation.

"Irene Marshall," said Gibbons
. "It's been a while."

"
Daniel, how nice to see you again," Irene looked around at the chaos in the store as station residents feverishly picked up last minute supplies and store employees worked at packing up some of the more valuable merchandise for transport to a place of greater safety, wherever that might turn out to be. "I suppose we expected something like this to happen," she said. "I was just hoping we'd have more time."

"
I know, the timing couldn't be much worse," he replied. "Hope you found what you're looking for, we're closing our doors in another hour or so." Gibbons shook his head in frustration. "There's so much we'll be leaving behind. Some of these goods are so valuable and yet...we'll probably never be able to sell them. Take this for instance..." He indicated a small box that he had just removed from a locked display case. The box had "Hartwell Wrist Computer" tastefully emblazoned across the top and sides.

"
A Hartwell Wrist Computer?" asked Irene. "Is this like the ones that Ensign Carlisle and Peter Larkin had?"

"Yes, indeed," replied Gibbons. "
It's the newer model though."

Irene thought for a short moment and made a quick decision
. "Why don't you send it with me?" she said. "I'm on my way out to the Scrapyard to join up with Commander Kresge. I have to believe we can find a use for it out there. If there's a problem, just bill it to my office. Better yet, bill it to the Navy." Gibbons looked at her strangely for a moment and then smiled as he shoved the box towards her.

"
If it will help you and Kresge...Take it with my blessing, Ms. Marshall. What the hell, consider this part of Doebermann's contribution to the War effort. I'm sure you'll put it to good use."

"Thanks, Daniel, You won't regret this," said Irene, "
I think I've got everything I'm going to get here. Thanks for helping me check out. The cutter is supposed to be leaving in about an hour and a half. I wouldn't want them to have to wait for me."

Gibbons looked over the handful of inexpensive items that Irene had picked out and waved her through.

"Go with my complements, Ms. Marshall. Maybe you and Oskar can keep the system from complete disaster."

"Thanks, Daniel. We'll do our best." Irene scooped up
the bag containing her items and left the frantic desperation of the crowded department store behind. She headed down the corridor towards the nearest elevator that went "up" inside one of the station's eight spokes and transported passengers inward to the central spindle of the station. Once there, she would be boarding the cutter for departure to the Scrapyard. As she boarded the elevator, a slender teenaged girl with red, shoulder-length hair, carrying a large duffel bag, boarded with her. Irene recognized Amanda Steuben, one of the young women who had served as runners carrying communications for Oskar during their battle to take back the orbital station. The younger woman allowed the heavy bag to slide off her shoulder to the floor. She propped it on end against the wall.

"Hello, Amanda," said Irene.

"Ms. Marshall!" said Amanda, still very much in awe of the Undersecretary, in spite of having spent a great deal of time around her during the terrorist ordeal earlier.

"You
're coming with us to the Scrapyard?" asked Irene.

"Yes, Ma'am," said the younger woman. "
I've never been there. Have you?"

"No, I haven't,
" replied Irene, "but I've certainly heard a lot about it!" She paused and looked a bit more intently at the younger woman. With her somewhat unruly red hair, deep blue eyes and pale, clear complexion, Amanda was fast on her way to becoming a very attractive young woman. She had reached that stage in her transition to womanhood that dictated she take more care with her grooming, her clothing and her interactions with others. Her efforts were working.

"Oskar told me that you were
going to apply to get into the Naval Academy."

"That's right, Ma'am," said Amanda.
"The Commander gave me some pointers on how to get ready for the entrance exams. I've been studying online about warships and engineering." She looked down. "I...I've always had good grades in math and science. I hope I won't just be in the way out at the Scrapyard."

"
I've no doubt we'll find something useful for you to do." Irene thought for a moment.

"Maybe there is something
... do you have any training with the Cyberdex virtual keyboard system?"

Amanda looked
slightly perplexed but replied, "Yes, Ms. Marshall. There were four of us that took the courses offered online. Peter Larkin was one of the others. I thought I might need to know how someday..."

"Well,
it looks like someday is today. Here take this." She reached into her shopping bag, pulled out a small box and handed it to the astonished young woman.

"You have to be joking!" blurted Amanda, "A Hartwell Wrist Computer?
" She looked up at the taller woman, her blue eyes wide, and attempted to return the box to Irene. "I can't accept this, Ma'am, I haven't done anything to deserve it!"

"On the contrary, Amanda," said Irene
, gently pushing the box back. "You did a terrific job during the terrorist attack on the station. The fact that you can actually use one of these devices is likely to come in very handy in the near future. We both saw what Tamara Carlisle and Peter Larkin did with a couple of these computers and we know how useful they can be. I suggest you make it your first priority to learn how to use it really well. In fact, why don't you load up some of those engineering classes onto it before we leave? I think you still have time."

"I
...I don't know how to thank you, Ms. Marshall," said Amanda, sincerely.

"You can
thank me by getting as good with that thing as Ensign Carlisle was. Oh, and you can stop calling me 'Ms. Marshall,' my friends call me 'Irene.'" She smiled at the younger woman.

"Okay
... Thanks...Irene. You won't regret this."

"
I know I won't."

The
elevator arrived at the central spindle and both women were immediately engulfed in the flurry of activities involved in getting their gear stowed for the pending departure of the cutter, which was leaving as soon as the final loading was completed.