Renegade (55 page)

“I dunno,” Trace said quietly. “I hear there’s money to be made making apple cider. I might have opened a brewery.”

“You might still!” Lisbeth said cheerfully.

Trace smiled at her sadly. “Yes,” she said. “Sure I might.” Erik gazed at the scan, thinking of Private ’T-Bone’ Van, whose plans for post-war cider were known even to him. And thinking of the Kulina hunting party that would even now be gathering to join the hunt for the
UFS Phoenix
, centring upon one of its officers in particular. Luckily Kulina didn’t produce warship pilots, just marines and the occasional special forces soldier. If Fleet could not catch them, the Kulina wouldn’t either. He hoped.

“LC,” said Shilu. “Leechi’s calling. The English is bad, but fluent enough — sounds like a person, not a machine. He sounds nervous.”

Erik sighed. “I’ll take it.” He glanced at Kaspowitz. “Any ideas how to sound reassuring to a frightened barabo? It’s my first experience with them.”

“Just don’t mention the Shuhai campaign, where we destroyed about thirty of their ships for minimal loss, killed ten thousand of them and single-handedly set back their civilisational confidence by a hundred years,” said Kaspowitz. “You know — we come in peace, please ignore the bloodstains, that kind of thing.”

“Was
Phoenix
there for that?” Karle wondered.

“Fraid so kid,” said Shahaim. “And so was I.”

“Me too,” said Kaspowitz.

“Great,” said Erik. “Thank you Kaspo, helpful as always.”

“Don’t mention it.”

‘We come in peace, please ignore the bloodstains’. That might become
Phoenix
’s catch cry out here, Erik thought. After so many hundreds, and previous thousands of years of war, he wondered if it was possible to ignore this much blood. He gazed at the forward scan for a moment longer. Station broadcast was showing a lane-buoy visual, a small mining station, only a single wheel with sixty berths, more than half of them empty. Positively catatonic compared to most human systems. It looked old and battered, and from what little he could see of the ships nestled along the rim, they were nothing impressive, mostly old freighters with barely a defensive weapon amongst them. No wonder they were nervous, seeing this alo-powered killing machine looming on the scan-horizon.

It would be nice to make friends here, he thought. To not have to terrify anyone, let alone kill anyone. Perhaps it would be possible. Perhaps. But given what was following, and what would soon be hunting from numerous directions, it didn’t seem likely to last.

He took a deep breath, and opened a channel. “Hello Leechi Station. This is
UFS Phoenix,
requesting lane placement and berth assignment. We are displacing 120K, hauling standard military cargo, and will be requiring block accommodation in the vicinity of our berth. Our intentions are entirely peaceful, and I look forward to greeting the Stationmaster in person,
UFS Phoenix
out.”

He glanced askance at Kaspowitz. Kaspowitz shrugged. “Not bad LC. You may get the knack of this job yet.”

J
oel Shepherd is
the Australian author of eleven SF and Fantasy novels, including ‘The Cassandra Kresnov Series’ and ‘A Trial of Blood and Steel’.

For more information;

• @ShepJoel
  
• joelshepherdauthor