Till its over, p.10
Till It's Over!, page 10
part #2 of Cole & Srexx Series
The trip passed with little incident, and almost every stop, Cole found some reason to draw Scarlett off the ship for at least a few hours.
System Periphery, Centauri Trinary System
21 August 3000, 09:22 GST
“Could we get a system plot on the holo, please?” Cole asked.
No one verbally acknowledged Cole’s request, but the hologram most often used for the tactical plot during combat appeared to display a plot of the system. The still-mysterious sensor technology Haven possessed recorded radio broadcasts like transponders long, long before those broadcasts had a hope of reaching Haven, so all manner of mobile and stationary dots populated the plot, beyond the star, planet, and asteroid locations.
Cole’s eyes locked on one dot in particular. He stood and approached the hologram, tapping the focus of his gaze with his left index finger. The hologram zoomed in and displayed the dot’s transponder data: the Coleson Clanhold. Arthur Coleson and his team had chosen the station’s location very well. Balanced between the gravitational forces of Alpha Centauri and Proxima Centauri, the station floated through space pulled along by the trinary system in one of the most stable positions known in Human space.
Movement at Cole’s side drew his attention, and he turned to see Sasha standing at his elbow.
“Fond memories?” she asked.
Cole shook his head. “No…no memories at all. My parents always told me I was born here, but they left for Beta Magellan when I was maybe two weeks old, if even that. I have no idea what we’re sailing into.”
Cole zoomed the plot back out to display the entire system again. None of the dots representing ships appeared to be on an intercept course for them…yet. Haven wasn’t exactly a recognized design, and beyond that, she was huge, half-again the size of a Solar Republic Dreadnought. There was no doubt in his mind that someone would soon notice them and want a chat.
“Wixil,” Cole said, “access the system plot, please, and put us on course for the Coleson Clanhold. Let’s not disturb the natives, though; no faster than thirty-percent-light.”
Wixil responded, “Aye, sir,” her fingers flying over the helm console.
They had 96 AU to travel before they arrived, and even at thirty-percent-lightspeed, that still meant a transit of slightly more than forty-four and a third hours. Nothing for it, though…all Cole could do was wait.
Coleson Clanhold
Centauri Trinary System
23 August 3000, 05:20 GST
Cole sat in the command chair, scratching his chin. Haven approached his family’s station, and no one had challenged them the entire trip into the system. It was enough to give him a twitch between his shoulder-blades as he waited for the other shoe to drop.
“Comms,” Cole said, “signal the station’s docking control and request permission to dock.”
It wasn’t Jenkins at the comms station. They were still on Delta shift, and Alpha wasn’t supposed to start for another forty minutes. But Cole couldn’t sleep.
Not even ten seconds passed before the comms tech announced, “We’re being hailed, sir…standard Solar Republic frequency on Channel Seven.”
“Open a channel,” Cole replied.
The overhead speakers chirped.
“Hello, I am—”
“Who gives a shite who you are? Just where do you think you’re going to dock that big bastard you’re riding in here? What in the nine hells is a ‘Battle-Carrier,’ anyway?”
If Cole was offended by the person’s demeanor, he didn’t show it, replying, “A Battle-Carrier is a battleship with a flight deck and small craft wing.”
“Bullshit, sonny,” the voice said. “Everyone knows fighters and bombers and the like are impractical and straight-up unfeasible at our current level of technology…even here in the Republic. Whenever you’re ready to stop pulling an old man’s leg, you go ahead and call us back.”
“Hang on a second,” Cole said, an unpleasant tone creeping into his voice.
Cole swiveled the command chair to face the comms station and gave him the signal to mute their audio. The comms tech keyed a couple commands and reported, “Mute.”
Cole swiveled to face the port recession. “Flight Ops, do we have a squadron on ready alert?”
“Yes, sir, we do.”
“Launch them…standard escort formation on Haven.”
The ensign at Flight Ops looked at Cole with wide eyes. “Sir?”
“You heard me. Launch them.”
The ensign bent over his console and started relaying Cole’s orders. Within five minutes, thirty fighters surrounded Haven.
Cole swiveled back to face the comms station, asking, “Is that call still active?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unmute, please.”
The overhead speakers chirped again.
“You still there, old man?” Cole asked. “Can you read a sensor plot, or are you too senile?”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the same voice said, his voice hushed and laced with awe. “Just who are you, sonny?”
“You didn’t seem too interested in that before,” Cole replied, his voice almost a growl. “I’m Cole, and I command this ship. Now, I have business with CIE. Do you have a place for me to dock or not?”
“It’ll have to be one of the freighter arms,” the man said. “You’re just too damn big for anything closer.”
“That’ll be fine,” Cole said.
“Transmitting your docking assignment now. Docking Control out.”
The speakers chirped again, and Cole turned to Flight Ops. “Recall the fighters. We’ll dock once they’re back aboard.”
Cole led Sasha, Yeleth, Wixil, and Red the Igthon through the corridors of the station. Cole carried the dispatch pouch Leland Graf had given in Zurich, all those months ago; it contained the sealed writ that verified his identity as the Coleson Heir. Everywhere Cole looked, what he saw evinced an eeriness that made him uncomfortable. The thought that he was standing in the place where he was born—where so many of his ancestors had been born—without feeling any connection to it at all might have contributed…maybe just a bit.
The corridor they traveled ended in a set of double doors. The stylized logo of Coleson Interstellar Engineering arced across the bulkhead over the doors. Cole slowed to a stop and took a deep breath. The culmination of his decision in the ISA office to step forward and claim his birthright was just in front of him, and Cole noticed his palms were clammy.
“You okay?” Sasha whispered, even though everyone else in their party had no difficulty hearing it.
Cole shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I will be.”
Squaring his shoulders, Cole resumed his stride, the doors swishing open at his approach.
The reception area of CIE conveyed the company’s stature as Number One on the Solar Republic’s Fortune 250 list in a subtle and understated opulence. Cole didn’t need to ask to conclude the carpet he crossed was beyond expensive, and the paneling over the bulkheads wasn’t faux wood or even local Centauri flora. It was stained oak from the region where Arthur Coleson grew up in North America on Old Earth, and Cole didn’t even want to hazard a guess as to how old it was.
Cole pulled his attention back to his objective and approached the reception desk. A woman sat behind the desk, an earbud in her right ear. She looked up at Cole’s approach and speared him with exquisite baby blue eyes.
“Welcome to Coleson Interstellar Engineering. How may I help you?”
“I need to speak with the CEO,” Cole said. “There’s a matter of business we must discuss, and I’ve traveled quite some distance to have the conversation.”
“Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“No. I wasn’t certain when I would arrive, precisely.”
The receptionist shook her head, the movement laden with regret. “I’m sorry, sir. CEO Jefferds is very busy, and it’s doubtful I’ll be able to fit you in. If you like, I can take a message and see that he receives it.”
Cole nodded. “Very well. May I borrow a message tablet and stylus? Oh, and I’ll need a certified delivery pouch. The message I carry is from Leland Graf at Credit Suisse.”
The receptionist frowned. “I’m not aware of a Leland Graf at the local branch. Is he new?”
“Hardly,” Cole replied, chuckling. “He’s an executive at the Zurich branch.”
“Ah. I wouldn’t know anyone at the office on Earth.”
Cole was rather proud of himself for maintaining a straight face. “My apologies. I meant the star system, not the city in Switzerland.” Even though he kept his non-expression, Cole felt like smiling at the sight of the receptionist paling.
“I’ll send for that sealed delivery pouch and a confidential message tablet right now, sir.”
When a young man jogged up to the reception desk to deliver the items, Cole accepted them and set the delivery pouch aside for a moment. He activated the confidential message tablet and set a read timer of five minutes. Then, he wrote his message:
I bear a sealed writ from Leland Graf in the Zurich system.
The writ regards the Coleson Heir.
Call at your earliest convenience.
Comms code: Omega-5543297
Message complete, Cole opened the personnel directory and selected the CEO as the only DNA record that could activate the tablet. Then, he placed the tablet inside the delivery pouch and sealed it, once again selecting the CEO as the only person who could open it. All finished, Cole extended the pouch to the receptionist.
The receptionist eyed the pouch like a live snake and nodded to the young man. Cole turned and extended the pouch to him. The young man accepted it, his expression wary as well, and disappeared into the expanse of the CIE offices.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Cole said, nodding once and turning to leave.
Chapter Thirteen
“Well, what are we going to do now?” Sasha asked as they stood outside the CIE offices.
A grin erupted across Cole’s face. “I know. How about we go by my house?”
Sasha turned to look at Cole, but he and everyone else were already a few steps ahead, leaving her behind. She jogged to resume her place at Cole’s right side.
“So…what house?”
Cole shrugged. “I couldn’t think what else to call the part of the station that was always maintained as the family residence. ‘House’ was the best I had on short notice.”
Minutes later, they stood in front of the massive blast door that prevented anyone from traversing from the company side of the station to the family side of the station. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be a way past.
“This has probably been sealed since my family left for Beta Magellan,” Cole remarked.
“If it’s sealed, we’re not getting in…right?” Sasha asked.
“Well, if it were just you guys, that would probably be true. But it’s not just you guys,” Cole said. His eyes landed on a panel cover. The cover was on the bulkhead to the right of the blast doors, and Cole saw hinges on one side. He moved closer and hooked his fingernails under one side. The panel came loose with a click and swung wide on silent hinges. It revealed a touchpad for DNA verification. Cole pressed his hand to the touch-plate.
At first, nothing happened. Without warning, a massive clack reverberated through the corridor, like a latch the size of Boston releasing after years of inactivity. The blast doors parted, sliding back into the bulkhead on either side of the corridor.
It was Joe’s first day on the job. He was the newest analyst in CIE Security, and apparently, ‘analyst’ was synonymous with ‘chair-warmer’ or ‘monitor-watcher.’ His duty station was called the Pit. The Pit was the nexus of all security monitoring for the entire station, supported by over thirty employees.
A screen just to Joe’s right sprouted a red border around its display that started flashing. Joe leaned just enough to read the text on the screen, and he slapped the large button on his left to summon his supervisor.
Ms. Engville approached his shoulder, and he pointed to the flashing screen. She leaned close enough to read the text and went pale. She snapped ramrod straight and urgently whispered into the comms microphone on her left sleeve. Not even two minutes later, the Chief Security Officer—the Head of CIE Security—stood at Joe’s back. He leaned close, read the screen, and spoke five words.
“Get me a team…now.”
He pivoted on his heel and left the Pit at a near-sprint.
The flashing alert reported the authorized access of the Coleson Family Residence by someone matching the last recorded DNA profile the system had for the missing Heir.
“Yeah…so this isn’t as impressive as I expected it would be,” Cole said. He stood in the center of a foyer that led to several rooms, and everywhere Cole looked, white sheets of canvas covered the furniture.
Sasha chuckled. “What were you expecting, Cole? No one’s been here in…how old are you? A quarter century?”
“Ha! I’ll have you know I turned twenty-seven on the way here.”
“So, it’s been even longer. People normally do stuff like this when no one’s going to be in a residence for a long time.” Sasha stopped and turned to glare at Cole. “Wait a minute. You’re saying you had a birthday, and you didn’t tell anyone?”
“Garrett knows. He wished me ‘Happy Birthday.’”
Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “Does Scarlett know? I’ll bet she wished you a happy birthday.”
Cole frowned. What was with Sasha all of a sudden? “No, Scarlett doesn’t know my birthday. It’s not something I talk about.”
Sasha had another snipe ready to go when understanding settled on her shoulders like a ton of regolith. The last time Cole probably had a birthday party was in Beta Magellan. “Sorry, Cole. I…that wasn’t like me.”
Cole made a dismissive wave with his left hand. “Heh…don’t worry about it. Well, I suppose we should go back to the ship. There’s not as much here as I thought there’d be.”
They turned to leave just in time to see seven people enter from the way they had come.
“Oh, hello,” Cole said. “Who might you be?”
“CIE Security,” the man at the front of the group said, his hand hovering near his sidearm. “Which one of you is the Heir? I know it’s not either of the Ghrexels or the Igthon.”
“How do you know one of us is the Heir?” Sasha asked, stepping forward.
“The DNA pad reported a successful authorization to the Nexus, Ms. Coleson. If you had bypassed the pad, it would’ve sent a different message.” He took a couple steps forward, extending his left hand. But his right hand still hovered close to his sidearm. “Ms. Coleson, you need to come with us, please.”
“Now, just hold it right there,” Cole said moving forward to stand beside Sasha. “We don’t know you people from Adam. It’s all well and good to say you’re CIE Security, but what have you shown us to verify that? Jack Coleson and all of his family were massacred, and there’s no evidence all the threats to the Heir disappeared with time.”
Cole accessed his implant to call the ship for a squad of marines, but before he could access the comms function, an alert popped up, advising him of an incoming call.
* Hello? * Cole answered the call non-vocally.
* Mr. Coleson, this is Vince Jefferds, CEO of your company. Are you still on the station? *
* You could say that. My friends and I came to visit my family’s residence, and we’re currently facing seven people claiming to be from CIE Security. Their hands are hovering far too close to their sidearms for my comfort, and I was just about to summon a squad of marines from my ship. *
* I’ll handle that. Please, wait right there for me…and also, please don’t do anything rash. *
* No promises, unless you hurry. I don’t handle threats to my people well. *
* I’ll hurry. *
The comms function informed Cole the call ended. Not even two seconds later, every comms device the seven security people had started blaring. The man in the front scowled and tapped his left ear as he spoke into his sleeve.
“What now, Vince? We’re in the middle of a situation here.” He listened for several moments, his eyes narrowing at last. “Stand down? Who the hell are you to tell me to stand down? Company security is my responsibility.”
Okay. That tears it, Cole thought as he brought up his comms menu. He had no idea what he looked like as he navigated his implants menus, the way his eyes darted all over the place, but he didn’t care. He addressed the message to Mazzi and Harlon.
He sent, Confronted by station security. Refusing to stand down at CEO’s order. Scramble the active-ready unit of marines. Activating my beacon now.
The moment after he keyed ‘send,’ Cole accessed his implant again and navigated the menus to reach the command for his locator beacon. Without a second thought, Cole activated it.
“Vince…dammit, listen to me!” the man in charge of the security team growled. “Whoever these people are, they’ve spoofed the Heir’s DNA! I don’t care what that delirious fool in Zurich wrote.”
He and the CEO continued to argue for several more minutes…right up until red lights started flashing to the accompaniment of a shrill whistle.
“Vince, I gotta go. Some dipshit triggered the security alert. We’ll finish this later,” the man said. It seemed he’d forgotten all about Cole and his people as he pulled a device from a pocket, tapped a couple commands, and stowed it once more, bringing his left sleeve back to his mouth. “Report! Who the hell triggered the security alert?”
Cole watched the man’s eyes bulge at whatever he heard.
“What the blazing fires of hell do you mean, there’s a quick reaction force moving my way? No…I don’t believe you. This station is sovereign territory, despite being deep in the Solar Republic. Their own Constitution prevents them from boarding this station.”
