Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10) (23 page)

“Of course,” Stewart said.

“And put Frazier’s children on the other ship,” Jasmine added.  She briefly considered sending Frazier too, but she had a feeling she’d need his contacts.  “Tell them they have a few minutes to say goodbye, then make it happen.”

Neither of them said anything.  Somehow, that only made it worse.

***

“I don’t understand,” Gary said.

“It’s quite simple,” Watson said.  The marine eyed him with barely concealed disdain.  “You can take a freighter back to Avalon, where you can join the Commonwealth Navy or find something else to do with your time, or you can stay with us.  I think you have around five or six hours to decide.”

“Thank you,” Kailee said, before Gary could say a word.  “We’ll let you know when the time comes.”

Watson nodded curtly, then turned and stepped out of the compartment, closing the hatch behind him.  He
still
intimidated Gary, all the more so now he knew how badly his arms ached after doing twenty press-ups a day.  Jasmine had told him that it would take time for him to develop the muscles to do more, but Gary honestly couldn't wait for the day it was completely painless.  He would have given up if Kailee hadn't made it clear she wouldn't let him change his mind.

“There’s little we can do here,” he said.  He’d made progress with a proper teaching machine, but he knew he had a long way to go.  “We could take the freighter ...”

“
No
,” Kailee said, flatly.  “I am not going to leave this ship.”

Gary peered at her.  “This ship ... or
her
?”

Kailee gave him a nasty look.  “This is an opportunity I will not surrender,” she said.  “And I will not let you surrender either.”

“I know,” Gary said.  She’d told him that if he wanted to keep seeing her naked, he had to do his exercises.  He would have been furious if she hadn't grown better at massaging his sore muscles after each bout.  “But what can we do to help?”

“I don’t know,” Kailee said.  “But we have to try.”

Gary wanted to roll his eyes.  Kailee’s mood swings were becoming increasingly alarming; she moved from being weak and helpless, unwilling to clamber out of bed, to being utterly bombastic, as enthusiastic about exercise as any half-mad gym teacher.  There were times when he honestly wondered if she was the same person he’d known - vaguely - on Earth.

But he had few illusions about how little they could be of help.  He could handle the ship, to some degree, but he was very far from an expert.  Besides, the ship already had a set of pilots: the Frazier Family.  They didn't need him clowning around with their ship. 

“I’m not an action hero,” he said, reluctantly.  He would have liked to tell himself otherwise, that he had the nerve to do something useful, but he knew it would be a lie.  “And neither are you.”

He held up a hand before Kailee could say a word.  “We will go to Jasmine,” he added, “and ask her if she would like us to accompany her.  If she says yes, we stay with her; if she says no, we go to Avalon.  Is that all right?”

Kailee sighed, furiously.  “It will do,” she said, in a tone that suggested he wouldn't be seeing her naked for a week.  “Let’s go.”

Gary followed her as she stood and strode out of the compartment, then hurried down the corridor to Jasmine’s cabin.  The hatch was closed - Gary was tempted to suggest they came back later - but Kailee tapped on the hatch until it opened.  Inside, Jasmine was seated on a half-made bunk, studying a datapad.  There was something in her expression, for once unguarded, that sent chills down Gary’s spine.

“Kailee,” Jasmine said.  She sounded tired, rather than angry, but her tone still made Gary want to run. 
He’d
never dreamed of a woman who could snap his neck like a twig.  “And Gary.  What can I do for you?”

“I would like to stay with you,” Kailee said, flatly.  “But Gary was wondering if we would be any use.”

“I do not know, yet,” Jasmine said.  “However, I would advise you to make your own choices.  You could go with the freighter and there would be no hard feelings.  I wouldn't expect you to come with us.”

Gary worked up his nerve and asked a single question.  “Are you expecting to come back?”

Jasmine lifted her head and gave him a long, considering look.  “I don't know,” she admitted, finally.  “I have always known that one day my luck would run out and I would die.  This time may be my final swan song.  But you two?  You don’t have to come with me.”

Kailee stepped forward.  “We
are
going to come with you.”

Jasmine gave her a tired smile.  “Why?”

“Because I’m tired of being helpless,” Kailee said.  “And if you have a use for us, it will be my pleasure to serve.”

“Very well,” Jasmine said.  Her gaze moved to Gary’s face.  “And you, Gary?”

Gary swallowed.  He wanted to run, but he didn't want to desert Kailee; he wanted to drag her with him, yet he knew it would be futile.  Everything in his life had taught him that there was no point in trying to fight.  Kailee would get herself killed and he would die right alongside her ...

But she was right.  He was tired of being helpless too.

“I’ll stay,” he said.  Oddly, making the decision felt like a load off his mind.  “I might be able to do something useful for you.”

“We shall see,” Jasmine said.  “I won't be with you this evening, so do your exercises alone - and don’t miss a single push-up.  Or you will regret it tomorrow.”

Gary frowned. 
That
didn't sound pleasant.  “You’ll hit us?”

“Your body will ache more the following day,” Jasmine said, nastily.  “Efficiency.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

This grows more complex as one realises that terrorism can be a criminal act, instead of an act of war.  Should terrorists be treated as criminals, with full access to legal resources to defend themselves, or illegal combatants, who can be legally shot?

- Professor Leo Caesius. 
The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

Saltine Asteroid, Year 5 (PE)

“We have a unique opportunity here,” Jasmine said, the following morning.  “I do not intend to waste it.”

She glanced around the makeshift conference room.  Watson and Stewart sat next to her, flanked by Stubbins, Paula, Kailee and Gary.  Behind them, Frazier looked thoroughly unhappy, while Robert Gouette - who had been a CEF trooper before the Battle of Thule - kept a sharp eye on him. 

“We are here, behind enemy lines,” she continued.  “It’s two weeks to Wolfbane.  There, we might have a chance to do real damage to their infrastructure before making a dash to the Commonwealth.  We have enough intelligence to know that there
are
weaknesses, weaknesses that a small team can take advantage of.  A direct attack would give the Commonwealth a much-needed breathing space.”

There was a long pause.  “It could also get us killed for nothing,” she added.  “I need you to tell me if you feel we can actually accomplish something.”

She sucked in her breath as the words echoed in the air.  Colonel Stalker wouldn't have asked for advice - or, at least, he wouldn't have effectively handed his subordinates a veto over his next decision.  But she’d been doubting herself ever since she’d been dropped into the POW camp.  Was she intent on hitting the enemy because she believed it possible ... or was she looking for make up for her mistakes?  The hell of it was that she wasn't sure herself.

“I have contacts in the system,” Stubbins said.  “We would have some degree of access, once we arrived.”

“Your contacts may no longer be there,” Paula pointed out.  “And even if they were, they might not be inclined to risk their lives by helping you.”

Stubbins gave her a nasty look.  “My people are not defeated so easily.”

Jasmine fought the urge to rub her face with her palm.  “Carl?  Thomas?”

Stewart smiled.  “I think we should go,” he said.  “You’re right; this is a unique opportunity and we shouldn't waste it.”

He held up a hand before Jasmine could say a word.  “I know, there's a case to be made that we should report in to the Commonwealth,” he added.  “But there isn't much hope of getting there and then getting back before they realise they’ve lost a few prisoners.  If nothing else, we can expect them to take a sharp look at their security arrangements.”

Jasmine nodded.  The files they’d captured had proven that the Wolves hadn't been particularly concerned about the POWs, beyond dumping them in a camp on a world at the very edge of settled space, but that would change.  Losing the camp alone would have been irritating; losing the station and then a starship would be embarrassing.  She was sure there would be a review, eventually, of security arrangements.  It might end with a complete reshuffle of everything they knew. 

“We’d be looking at a three-month round trip,” Watson warned.  “I think the decision rests in your hands.”

“I know,” Jasmine said.  She took a long breath.  “I’m going to trade some of our fresh food for supplies, then we will depart - hopefully, by the end of the day.  By the time we reach Wolfbane, I want to be ready for anything.”

Gary looked at her, nervously.  “How do you know there will be a way in?”

“There’s an entire system,” Jasmine pointed out.  She’d managed to insert an entire team onto Corinthian before, back when she’d first encountered Admiral Singh.  Slipping into a star system would be child’s play by comparison.  “I suspect there will be no shortage of ways to slip in at the edges.”

She paused, then went on.  “The other freighter will be departing in an hour,” she added.  “If any of you want to record messages for people on Avalon, do it now.  The crew will take them home.”

“Understood,” Stewart said.  “But there’s only the Colonel there.”

“You should have spent more time socialising,” Watson said, sardonically.  “I have friends back there who probably miss me.”

“So you want to give them another shot,” Stewart said.

Jasmine groaned.  “Record your messages and send them to the freighter,” she ordered.  She had the private feeling that Watson probably intended to record messages for a dozen different girls, perhaps telling each one that
she
was the only one he’d thought about while he was in the POW camp.  “Gary, Kailee; you’ll come with me to the asteroid.  If you want to record messages yourselves, do it now.”

Gary shrugged, expressively.  Jasmine understood; there was no one, save perhaps Darrin and Austin, who Gary might want to contact.  She knew nothing of his home life on Earth, but humanity’s homeworld was gone.  Anyone he’d known in his CityBlock was probably gone too.  Kailee merely looked at the deck, then nodded once.  God alone knew who
she
wanted to record a message for.  As far as anyone knew, Gary and Kailee only had each other.

She rose to her feet.  “Meet me in the airlock in thirty minutes,” she ordered the two youngsters.  “Dismissed.”

Back in her cabin, she took a moment to review the report she’d written for Colonel Stalker, then uploaded it to the other freighter.  It was as complete and comprehensive as she could manage, including everything they’d learned about Wolfbane and copies of the files she’d drawn from their computer networks.  The station’s datacores had been removed prior to its destruction, ensuring that techs on Avalon would have a chance to search them for anything useful, file by file.  Jasmine doubted there was anything useful left undiscovered, but Commonwealth Intelligence might find something they could use against the Wolves.  It was worth a try. 

She hesitated, then opened the second message.  God alone knew what Emmanuel thought had happened to her; it wasn't clear if Wolfbane had attempted to pass the POW details to the Commonwealth or not.  There was no way to know what he was doing, back on Avalon, or how long he would wait for her.  And if he thought she was dead, he might well have moved on.  She braced herself, then uploaded the message and rose to her feet.  It was time to go to the asteroid and do what trading she could.

Gary and Kailee met her at the airlock, both looking tired and wan.  Jasmine smiled to herself as she picked up the crate of fresh food, then opened the airlock and walked through the hatch into the asteroid.  Both of the youngsters gasped when they smelled the atmosphere, as if they hadn’t been expecting the sudden change.  Jasmine wasn't too surprised.  Groundhogs rarely realised that starships could smell quite unpleasant to a newcomer, while each planet and asteroid had its own unique smell.  It wasn't a coincidence that one of the less pleasant nicknames for people from Earth was dirt-foot.

“Be polite as long as you’re here,” she said, firmly.  She turned to see their reactions to her next words.  “Justice here can be even rougher and readier than it was on Meridian.”

The two youngsters exchanged nervous glances, then followed her down the corridor and into the marketplace.  Jasmine suspected there were similar places on Meridian, where farmers sold their produce to the townsfolk, but this was very different.  One stall was littered with refurbished spare parts, another was covered in datachips, datapads and large posters advertising pirated flicks and audio tracks.  Jasmine glanced at the names of the stars, then rolled her eyes in dismay.  None of them had proven very popular on her homeworld.

“I remember them,” Kailee said, pointing to a datachip box covered in pictures of scantily-clad women.  “They were very popular on Earth.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jasmine said.  The actresses looked disturbingly young and innocent, yet they were dressed in shirts that looked as though they were going to fall off at any moment.  “The only thing that kept their outfits on are the eyes of every young man in the chamber.”

Kailee blinked.  “Are you always so cynical?”

“Better to be a cynic than a deluded optimist,” Jasmine said.  She shook her head as Kailee picked up the box hopefully.  “Anyone who looks that innocent on Earth probably has a great many secrets buried in her closet.”

“I never believed they were what they seemed,” Gary said.  “They’re not real, are they?”

Jasmine shrugged and led them onwards.  “You can do remarkable things with computers,” she said.  “If there hadn't been laws saying that every flick had to have live actors, the producers would have replaced them all with computer-generated simulations. 
They
don’t complain, they don’t get into trouble with law-enforcement, they don’t start demanding extra money because they’ve made a number of good flicks ...”

Kailee snorted.  “You seem to know a lot about this,” she said.  “Did you want to be an actress too?”

“Perish the thought,” Jasmine said.  Her parents would have disowned her if she’d tried to become an actress.  “I just know how easy it is to put together simulations for training purposes.  The civilians who run across our positions aren’t real, but they
look
real.  There’s no technical reason you couldn’t produce a completely computer-generated flick that would be impossible to distinguish from the real thing.”

“Even ... even a pornographic flick?”  Gary asked.  “They’re not real?”

“I think most of them are done by very skilled actors,” Jasmine said, snidely.  It had shocked her, when she'd entered Boot Camp, to see just what some people considered erotic.  “Most people can’t do half the positions you see in the flicks, not without injuring themselves.”

She stopped outside a hatch, then knocked once.  It opened, revealing an assessor’s office, complete with a grim-faced man sitting in front of a pair of scales.  He rose to his feet as they entered, then bowed.  Jasmine took a moment to read the handful of rules pasted on the bulkhead - the sellers got ten percent commission on every sale - and then placed the box on the table.

“Fresh fruit,” she said simply, as she disengaged the stasis field.  “Apples, oranges, slices of cooked ham and turkey ... all ready to be eaten now.”

The man inspected the box thoroughly, then looked up at her.  “Cash or commission?”

Jasmine considered it.  “How much are you prepared to offer?”

“Five thousand traders, straight up,” the man said.  “Or ten percent commission, depending on the sales.”

Gary whistled.  Food was cheap on Meridian, where fruit and vegetables were grown everywhere.  A bag of fresh apples could be so cheap that a child could buy one with a tiny fraction of his chore money.  But on Earth, the same bag of apples could be so expensive that most families wouldn't have a hope of being able to afford one unless they were prepared to make real sacrifices.  Fresh meat, if it was authorised for shipping, was solely the preserve of the upper classes.  Most people had to make do with algae-based foodstuffs.

“Ten thousand traders,” Jasmine said.  She’d taken the opportunity to check prices as they walked through the marketplace and knew they would need at least six thousand to get everything they needed.  “I think you should be able to do more than recoup your losses.”

“I very much doubt it,” the man sneered.  “Six thousand traders.”

They haggled backwards and forwards for a long moment, then compromised on seven thousand, five hundred traders.  Jasmine took the credit chip without delay, checked it carefully and then inserted it into her pocket.  They
might
have earned more by allowing the office to sell the fresh produce on commission, she knew, but they simply didn't have the time to waste.  Instead, she nodded politely to the man and led the way back out of the office.

“I have a shopping list,” she said, once the hatch had slid closed.  “I’m afraid we don’t have much money to waste, so try not to pick up anything we don’t need.”

Gary nodded, then stared in disbelief as a pair of hairy monsters strode past.  “What ... what are those?”

“They had their genes modified for some reason,” Jasmine said.  “Their homeworld was probably very cold and their founders decided to go for modification, rather than doing anything to warm the planet’s atmosphere.  It’s not very common.”