The Star Cross (20 page)

“What about
the crews?” asked Colonel Hayworth. “The personnel on the exploration ships are
good, but they’re not trained for combat. Captain Anniston mentioned that to me
the other day. We have a few on the station who were on leave from some of the
ships destroyed in Earth orbit, though most were down on Earth with their
families,”

“A few more
came with the refugees,” added Captain Simms.

“I think I can
find the necessary crew personnel we’ll need,” Kurt answered. He knew Captain Cheryl
Anniston, and she was a strong-minded captain. He was fully confident she could
command the
Trinity
, if he could find a few key people to assist her in
combat operations.

“The two
shuttles are nearly complete,” Captain Simms added, as he led Kurt toward the
station’s large repair bay.

“We’ve done everything
we can to make them undetectable to Profiteer or Dacroni scans,” Colonel
Hayworth commented. “If they can make it to Earth, they should be able to land
safely.”

“How many
passengers can each accommodate?”

“Twenty,”
Hayworth answered. “That’s in addition to the five-person crew, plus a six-person
security team on each shuttle.”

“I wish we
could have used larger shuttles,” Kurt said, as they entered the repair bay
where the two shuttles were. They had been painted black, and all insignias removed.
The shuttles vaguely resembled the old space shuttles but with cleaner lines
and a slimmer look.

“We can have
two more shuttles ready within the week,” suggested Colonel Hayworth. “I spoke
to Captain Watkins, and he says he can accommodate two more, if he crowds his
flight bay.”

“Henry would
say that,” replied Kurt. “I’ll contact him and suggest he leave ten of his
Lance fighters behind. “So far we’ve seen no indication the Profiteers or the
Dacroni use any type of fighters or bombers, other than their ships’ shuttles.”

“That would
make room for four shuttles,” stated Hayworth, looking inquiringly at Kurt.

“Go ahead and
do the other two shuttles,” Kurt ordered after a moment of thought. “We need to
bring back as many crewmembers and potential crewmembers as we can on this
first trip, particularly since we’re converting the exploration cruisers to
warships.”

“We’ll get it
done,” promised Colonel Hayworth.

“How is the arming
of the station going?” Kurt looked over at Captain Simms, waiting for his
response.

“Slowly,”
confessed Simms dolefully. “We’re working around the construction we’re doing, including
the new flight bay. So far we’ve installed two particle beam cannons and six
laser turrets. We’ve also managed to put in place about 40 percent of the
energy shield emitters.”

Kurt turned
toward the two commanding officers. “Don’t bother with the missile tubes for
now. Concentrate on the laser turrets and the particle beam cannons. We could
be looking at a possible Profiteer attack in the next few weeks.”

The two men’s
faces paled upon hearing that announcement.

“We’ll do
everything we can,” promised Colonel Hayworth. “Give us two weeks, and I can
have at least six more of the laser turrets done and another particle beam cannon.”

“What about
the energy shield?” Kurt knew the shield was essential for the survival of the
station.

Hayworth let
out a deep breath of resignation. “That’ll be a problem. The energy shield is
set to extend one hundred meters from the hull. At the moment, the new flight
bay is in the way. Once we have the outer hull armor in place, we can install
the emitters, but not before.”

Kurt nodded,
knowing they were talking about an engineering problem. “See what you can come
up with. I would hate to see the Profiteers plant a hypermissile in the
station.”

The two men shared
a worried look and nodded their understanding. “I’ll convene a meeting of our
station engineering staff and see if they can come up with a solution,”
Hayworth said.

“We have some
very smart and resourceful engineers,” added Simms. “They’ll figure something
out.”

“Very well,”
Kurt answered. “The mission to Earth will be launched as soon as you have the
next two shuttles finished.”

“We’ll have
them ready as soon as possible, Admiral,” promised Captain Simms.

-

Fleet Admiral
Kurt Vickers stepped inside the Command Center of the
Star Cross
. Part
of the crew was on leave, with Rear Admiral Wilson and the
Kepler
responsible for the fleet and the defense of Newton, until Kurt said otherwise.
He had spent a busy couple days visiting with his sister, meeting with Governor
Spalding, General Mclusky, Colonel Hayworth, and Captain Simms. Kurt was
satisfied that everything possible was being done to get Newton ready for a
potential attack.

“Status?” he
asked, looking over at Lieutenant Evelyn Mays, who had been responsible for the
ship while he and Captain Randson had been down on Newton. Andrew was busy looking
for a place for his wife and daughter and hoped to find a home close to Kurt’s
sister.

“The
destroyers
Starburst
and
Kline
are currently emplacing the hyperspace
detection buoys,” the tactical officer replied, as she stood up and vacated the
command chair. “They should be finished sometime tomorrow with the first set.”

Kurt nodded
and sat down in the command chair. The two destroyers were placing eight of the
expensive buoys in open space far outside the Newton System. Each buoy could detect
a ship in hyperspace for a distance of five light-years. Even then that would
only give them about a ten- to fifteen-minute warning before a ship could reach
Newton. It would be just enough time to bring the fleet to Condition One and
prepare for an attack.

Looking at the
one of the main viewscreens, he could see the heavy battlecarrier
Kepler
.
Even as he watched, four small Lance fighters launched from one of the ship’s
two flight bays and moved to take over the CSP for the four fighters inbound
from their patrol.

“Everything’s
been quiet, sir,” Lieutenant Mays reported. She then walked over to her
tactical station and sat down.

“Sir, I have
Captain Watkins on the comm,” reported Ensign Pierce.

Kurt pressed
the receive button on the comm station on his command console. “How are things,
Henry?”

“About as
expected,” Captain Watkins replied. “I understand you had an interesting time
on Kubitz. Sometime you’ll have to tell me all about it. Sorry to hear about
Private Dulcet and the
Lansing
.”

“We haven’t
given up on Dulcet yet,” replied Kurt. “We’re still hoping we can work out something
for her safe return.” Kurt knew in his heart that wasn’t likely. From what
Grantz and Dolman had indicated, she was most likely dead. It greatly upset Kurt
to know that she had probably been tortured. Grantz had indicated that was one
of the methods the Dacroni used to extract information from captives.

“I was glad to
hear that Captain Randson found his wife and daughter. I know it was a big
relief to him. So, when do I set out for Earth?”

“Sometime in
the next seven days,” Kurt answered. “I’m having Colonel Hayworth convert two
more shuttles to be used in ferrying passengers from Earth to the
Newton
Princess
.”

“That’ll crowd
my flight bay,” said Henry, sounding concerned. “But I think we can manage.”

“Leave a
squadron of your Lance fighters at Newton Station,” suggested Kurt. “I don’t
think you’ll need them, and that will free up the necessary space in your
flight bay.”

Henry was
silent for a long moment before replying. “I hate leaving the fighters behind,
but it would solve the space problem. Who are you sending to contact President
Mayfield?”

Kurt looked
where Captain Randson normally sat. Kurt knew that Andrew was the only one he
would trust with the job and who was familiar with what they had learned on
Kubitz—information that might prove useful to President Mayfield and the North
American Union.

“Captain Randson,”
Kurt answered. “On a light cruiser. Once he’s contacted the president, he’ll be
returning immediately.”

“We’ll get it
done,” promised Henry in a solemn voice. “I know how important these trained
crew personnel will be.”

Kurt let out a
deep breath. Shifting his gaze to the other viewscreens, he could see Newton, Newton Station, and the stars. One viewscreen had a faint yellow star in its
center. He knew without asking Lieutenant Mays that this was Earth’s sun. He
wondered what was occurring on the home planet. No doubt that life under
Profiteer rule would be harsh and uncompromising. Kurt was determined to remove
that threat. And soon.

On Kubitz,
Grantz walked down one of the busy streets under the central city dome, in one
of the more profitable districts, lined with pleasure houses and brothels. His
pockets were full of credits, and he had a big satisfied grin on his face. The
deal he had worked out with the humans was highly profitable, and his quarters
at the compound were more than satisfactory. He had just finished eating and
had gorged himself on his favorite foods, foods he normally stayed away from,
due to their extreme price.

Sliding his
right hand into his pants pocket, he felt the large wad of credits tucked
safely inside. The street he walked along was closed to vehicles and on both
sides were tall brightly colored buildings with flashing lights and advertisements.
Loud music could be heard coming from several establishments, and the aromas of
tantalizing foods drifted in the air. Happy voices and laughter from partygoers
was everywhere. The street was full of people, nearly all of them human or at
least humanoid.

Tonight he was
heading to the Brollen Pleasure House. One of Dolman’s contacts had casually
mentioned that a human woman from Earth was working there. She was rumored to be
very beautiful and in high demand. In such high demand that it had been
necessary to book his appointment through the pleasure house four days in
advance. Normally one could just show up and take part in any type of pleasure
one might want to indulge in, and Grantz had a good imagination.

Reaching the
pleasure house, Grantz looked up at the multicolored building. It advertised
human women from different worlds and even a few nonhuman. Almost every type of
drug or physical pleasure could be purchased for the right price. Opulent
foods, drinks, entertainment, and, of course, women were available upon
request. A substantial cover fee was due at the entrance just to get inside.
The Brollen Pleasure House was one of the classier ones in the district and
only served the best of everything.

Grantz was in
no hurry, it was still a good hour before his scheduled appointment. Strolling
to the entrance, he handed over a one-hundred-credit note and was allowed
admittance. Several heavily armed guards were at the doors and also attendants
who collected the credits. He did have to leave his pistol at the entrance and
would pick it up on his way out. No weapons of any type were permitted inside the
pleasure houses or the brothels.

Stepping
inside, he took a deep breath and grinned as he checked everything out.
Scantily clad women walked around, visiting with different patrons. The lower section
entailed four levels of the pleasure house, offering eating establishments and
bars with every type of alcoholic or nonalcoholic drink one could ask for. Also
several groups of musicians played, and some customers were even dancing. It wasn’t
unusual for a visitor to dance and talk to a number of the women before making
his selection. Once made, the two would go to the upper floors to consummate
their transaction.

“Ah, Grantz!”
yelled a familiar voice from a nearby alcove.

Grantz turned
and saw a fellow Profiteer from the planet Marsten, sitting at a private table.
He motioned for Grantz to come over.

Walking to the
table, Grantz took a seat and nodded at his fellow Profiteer. “Albetz, it’s
been a while.”

“Nearly a
year,” replied Albetz, motioning for a server to bring over two drinks. As she
turned to leave, Albetz reached out and slapped her on the rear, causing her to
squeal. “I love this place!”

“I thought you
were settling down on Marsten,” Grantz said. At one time, Albetz had served a
short stint with High Profiteer Creed.

Albetz frowned
and then smiled. “I thought so too, but what can I say? I ran short of credits,
and I went back to Profiteering.”

Grantz took a
deep drink and allowed himself to grin. His beverage was strong, and it burned
going down. Albetz’s story was quite common. It was easy to retire off a
Profiteer’s earnings. The only problem being how easily it was to spend the
accumulated credits from Profiteering and then finding oneself broke again.

“I understand
you’re working with these Earth humans,” Albetz said in a quieter voice. “Rumor
has it that they have a lot of gold.”

“It pays
well,” Grantz admitted casually. “As for gold, who knows? Rumors are just that,
rumors.”

“An Earth
woman is supposedly working here at this pleasure house,” Albetz added, his
eyes narrowing slightly. “Is that why you’re here tonight?”

Grantz became
more cautious. “Who did you say you’re working for?”

“I didn’t,” answered
Albetz, taking a sip of his drink. “As one Profiteer to another, I would watch
my back. I think they’re observing this woman very closely.” With that Albetz
laid enough credits on the table to pay for the drinks and stood up. “I’ll be
on my way. Perhaps someday we can work together again.” Albetz walked off and
entered one of the noisier bars, where loud music played.

Leaning back,
Grantz slowly sipped his drink, wondering just what he had gotten himself into.
It bothered him to be sitting at a table unarmed, if trouble was brewing.

Finishing off
his drink, Grantz stood up and spent the next half hour wandering around the
lower levels. He was careful to mix in with large groups of people and kept a
wary eye out to see if he was being followed. If this human was Private Dulcet,
and if he could bring her back to the human compound, he could net himself a
nice bonus. He hadn’t mentioned to Lieutenant Tenner where he was going, as the
lieutenant might have sent some of the compound’s human Marines to attempt to
rescue Private Dulcet. That would have been a disaster and would have brought
the Enforcers down on the embassy compound. Grantz liked his job too much to
risk that.

Nearly time
for his appointment, he climbed the wide stairs to the fifth floor where
several attendants waited. He presented his confirmation pass for his
appointment and was allowed to proceed. He felt a cold chill run down his back,
knowing just how defenseless he was. Even a knife in his possession now would
feel comforting.

Grantz took a high-speed
turbolift to one of the midrange floors and exited, walking down a short well-lit
hallway, lined with different colored doors. Thick, soft carpet covered the
floor, which absorbed the sound of his footsteps. After a moment he found
himself standing before the door indicated on his confirmation card. Taking a
deep breath, he knocked and then waited expectantly.

The door swung
open, and a beautiful brunette stood there. She was dressed in a skimpy dark
red outfit that accented her figure and left very little to the imagination.

“Hello,” she
said demurely. “You must be Profiteer Grantz.”

“Yes,” Grantz
replied, as he stepped into the room.

The woman
closed the door and then locked it securely.

He knew that
was misleading, as her handlers would have code passes to the door and could
have it open in an instant, if necessary. He also strongly suspected the room
was under surveillance. Looking at the young woman, Grantz instantly recognized
her. This was, indeed, Private Lucy Dulcet.

Lucy walked
over to a table with several bottles of colored liquid in them and proceeded to
pour two drinks. Grantz noticed that she poured his drink from one bottle and hers
out of a different one. No doubt his drink would be a strong alcoholic beverage
and hers nonalcoholic. This was a standard trick used to get the patrons to
spend more credits.

Walking over
to Grantz, she handed him a drink and then, stepping back, took a small sip of
hers. She smiled and posed. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yes,” Grantz admitted.
“What’s your name?” He strongly suspected from her actions that she had been
mind-probed and a new personality implanted. The use of a mind probe was highly
illegal on Kubitz. He had also played poker with her several times on the Star
Cross, and her lack of recognition seemed to confirm the use of the probe.

Lucy seemed
confused for a moment and then smiled. “That’s not important.” She took another
sip of her drink and then set it down on the small table. Turning back to Grantz,
she reached up behind her neck and unfastened her garment, which fell to the
floor.

Grantz felt
his heart pound, seeing the beautiful nude human woman before him. With a heavy
sigh, he reached into his pocket and pressed a small device hidden inside the
wad of credits. It instantly sent out a jamming signal, causing any nearby surveillance
devices to malfunction. Reaching into his other pocket, he took out a small
plastic tube and pointed it at Lucy, pressing the button on the end causing it to
eject a clear, odorless gas. The human woman paused and look confused. The gas
was a memory inhibitor and highly illegal. It also served to weaken a person’s
will, making them highly subjectable to suggestions or orders.

Taking one
last long look at Lucy’s nude body, Grantz instructed her to get dressed. It
only took her only a few moments to follow his orders, and then she stood with
an innocent and questioning look on her face.

“Take my arm
and we’ll leave this room and go to the bottom level. You’re to laugh and act
like we’re having a great time.”

“We are having
a great time,” Lucy responded, as the suggestion took hold. She smiled and took
hold of Grantz’s arm.

Going to the
door, Grantz opened it, and the two of them were soon walking down the corridor
toward the turbolift. He knew, at any moment, security people would respond to
see why the surveillance system on this floor had suddenly quit working.

Reaching the
door to the turbolift, he pressed the button and waited. It quickly arrived,
and, as soon as the door slid open, he took the small jammer from his pocket,
pressed a button on its side and dropped it into a large planter against the
wall. He knew that, in thirty seconds, the jammer would disintegrate, giving
off a horrendous volume of thick and heavy smoke, which should trigger the
pleasure house’s fire alarms.

Entering the turbolift
with a smiling and laughing Lucy hanging on his arm, he pressed the button for
the fifth floor. Now he just needed to get by the awaiting attendants.

They were
nearly to the bottom when alarms sounded and a voice came over the speaker in
the turbolift.

“Due to a
safety issue we are asking all guests to go to the bottom four entertainment
levels. There is no reason to be alarmed, and you are not in danger. This is a precautionary
measure only. To show our gratitude for your patronage, all drinks will be free
for the next hour.”

Grantz allowed
himself to grin. A huge stampede of patrons would be escaping the upper levels.
With any luck he would make it safely past the attendants.

Exiting the turbolift,
he saw his supposition was correct. Dozens of guests ran down the stairways and
were hurriedly exited the other turbolifts. The attendants had a flustered look
on their faces, as they were rapidly overwhelmed. Trying not to draw attention,
Grantz led Lucy past the attendants and down the wide staircase to the already
crowded bottom level. The loud music was overwhelmed by the aggravated and
concerned voices of hundreds of patrons. Many made their way to the bars to
take advantage of the free drink offer.

Grantz slowly
maneuvered Lucy close to the main doors and waited. He didn’t have long to wait
as a loud explosion suddenly rang out in the street in front of the entrance.
Instantly the guards and the attendants rushed forward to see what the commotion
was. Using the distraction, Grantz hurriedly led Lucy out the doors and turned
down the street, walking at a fast pace. They hadn’t gone more than forty
meters when a man walked up to Grantz and casually handed him a weapon to
replace the one he had left at the pleasure house.

“A vehicle’s
waiting at the end of the street,” the man said, as he turned and vanished into
the crowd.

Grantz placed
the weapon in the holster at his waist and continued on down the street.

“That’s far
enough,” a familiar voice said.

Grantz froze
and, turning around, saw Albetz standing there with a large-barreled pistol
pointed in his direction. “I thought you wanted to work together someday.”

“I tried to
warn you,” Albetz said, shaking his head sadly. “You should have listened. We
would have made a great team.”

A shot rang
out, and Grantz stepped back in surprise, as Albetz’s head exploded in a shower
of blood. People screamed and ran from the sudden commotion. Looking where the
shot had come from, Grantz saw Avery Dolman step from a nearby doorway,
holstering his weapon.

“You were
followed,” Avery explained. “Now let’s get to the vehicle and leave before the
Enforcers arrive.”

Grantz nodded,
taking one last look at Albetz, face-down in the street. Unfortunately this
type of death was quite common for a Profiteer.

-

Captain Randson
breathed a sigh of relief as the light cruiser
Johnas
dropped from
hyperspace at the inner edge of the Kuiper Belt. They were just outside the
orbit of Pluto, where numerous comets and icy remnants from the birth of the Solar
System orbited.

“I have the
Vindication
and the destroyers
Deimos
and
Sultan
on the short-range sensors,”
reported Ensign Greenfield. Then a moment later he added, “The
Newton
Princess
has just arrived. The two destroyers are taking up defensive positions
around the passenger liner.”

Captain Owens
nodded. The last time he had been in the Solar System was when the Profiteers
had appeared and wiped out the orbiting fleets. It was a nightmare he would
never forget. His ship had been heavily damaged and nearly half of his crew
killed. He had barely made it to Newton to warn Admiral Vickers about the
invaders.