Dark Running (Fourth Fleet Irregulars Book 4) Read online

‘But they’re not normal,’ she protested. ‘The way they carry on, it’s outrageous, the things they do, their reputation… far be it from me to criticise a senior officer, of course, of course, but Captain von Strada – well! I’m saying nothing,’ she said, in a tone that said everything, ‘but you must, must be aware of the scandals, Cadet!’

  Since she had not been living at the bottom of a deep hole for the last couple of years, Tina was indeed aware of the scandals. She had just started her training when news had arrived from Chartsey over some row about prisoners being used for top secret ‘dark ops’. It had seemed very unlikely for the Fleet to even consider such a thing, and as more information had arrived, it had become apparent that the report was a ludicrous misunderstanding. Skipper von Strada’s ship, the corvette Minnow, had been moved onto irregular terms of service so that three Fleet personnel on parole from military prison could return to active service with them.

  Those in the know had spread the word that this was a compromise solution, proposed by the First Lord to address an embarrassing miscarriage of justice founded in very dirty internal politics. The media, however, had not been informed about that. Then a rather over-zealous investigative reporter had picked up two and two and made forty seven, kicking off a frenzy of protests from all manner of campaign groups with his assertion that the Fleet was developing a top secret special ops unit using prisoners. Whether they came at it from the angle of protesting against prisoners being used as expendable cannon fodder in dirty ops, or whether they came at it from protesting against prisoners being allowed out in public and given an alleged ‘champagne lifestyle’, campaign groups had converged on the Admiralty, making their feelings very clear. Explanations had been dismissed as denial; people had made up their minds what they believed about the Fourth Fleet Irregulars and nothing that the Admiralty said now was going to change them.

  Nothing that happened since had given those campaign groups reason to change their minds about the Fourth, either. Their return from their first patrol bringing back the biggest drugs seizure in decades had been seen as evidence in itself that they had gone out on black ops. They had gone out to the troubled world of Sixships and blown up, just blown up, a moonbase worth more than sixty million dollars. Their operations at the Karadon deep space station had been described by some groups as ‘licensed terrorism’, as tens of thousands of passengers had fled in panic and the Fourth’s boarding operations had left the station in a spectacular mess.

  Most recently, they had been out to Novamas, a remote world with a complexity of problems holding back their development. The media did not tend to like complexity in reporting, however. It was not easy to explain the long history of tensions between the Novamasian government, the League Senate and spacers, nor to examine the tangled issues behind why so many ships refused to go to Novamas and dropped their cargoes at the mining system of Tolmer’s Drift, instead. It was easier for the media to report that spacers refused to go to Novamas because they believed that the planet was haunted, and to have lots of fun reporting the Fourth’s alleged exorcism of the ancient ghosts to get ships to go there. It was also much more dramatic to report the very public conflict between von Strada and the Port Admiral, during the course of which von Strada had been relieved of his command and held in a cell for some hours before other senior Fleet officers relieved the Admiral himself of command and returned von Strada to his ship. The Port Admiral had since resigned from the Fleet, and von Strada had been promoted to Captain. The media had used every synonym for ‘outrage’ in the thesaurus in their coverage of that.

  The Fourth was currently on stand-down at their home base on Therik, officers and crew enjoying the long leave they were entitled to after extended operations. That had not stopped either the campaign groups or the media, however. It was rare for there to be so much as three days without some new allegation about them appearing in the media. To be fair, though, not all the scandal about the Fourth was generated by campaign groups. For the Old School Fleet, von Strada was anathema, rarely mentioned without the words ‘disgrace to the uniform’ following shortly after. For the Progressive element, though, he had become their leading light, standing against all the old die-hard attitudes that held the Fleet back from modernising.

  Tina and the commandant gazed at each other across the desk, a vast gulf between them.

  ‘I just can’t let you do this,’ the commandant said. ‘I have a responsibility, a duty of care… it isn’t just your career on the line, here. Fourth’s operations are dangerous, Cadet. And you are still a cadet, you’re my responsibility. I can’t allow you to do this to yourself. You must withdraw your appeal at once – do that, and no more will be said about it.’

  She saw how Tina’s jaw set a little more firmly, and leaned forward, her manner becoming urgent. ‘Look, you may have heard things… I know how these rumours get about, and I do understand, I do, that there could be a spurious kind of glamour that might appeal to adventurous young people like yourself. That’s why we do our best to protect you from that, to keep you focussed on the reality of your future with the Fleet, the real Fleet, not the antics of the Fourth! If it’s the exodiplomacy, believe me, you stand no chance of going on any kind of exodiplomatic mission with them. After the excruciatingly undignified way they’ve handled recent exodiplomatic operations, the Diplomatic Corps is highly unlikely to allow them anywhere near exo-encounters ever again!’

  Tina’s jaw did not relax, nor did her steady gaze waver. The fact that the Fourth’s operations at Novamas had been a cover for their taking part in a first contact mission was officially a secret, though common knowledge within the Fleet and indeed within the wider spacer community. It was also well known that they had a non-human officer serving with them, said to have come from the semi-mythical Pirrell, also known as the Veiled World. As Tina was also aware, the Diplomatic Corps was far from wanting to stop the Fourth being involved in exodiplomacy. Though admittedly rather unnerved by the methods von Strada employed, they could only be delighted by the results he achieved. They had, indeed, made a number of attempts at Senate level to sequester the Fourth into their own service, and failing that, were continuing to put exodiplomatic mission requests on the table and fight for them as a matter of absolute priority. What could be more important, after all, than to make contact and build relationships with the vast, powerful civilisations beyond the Firewall? Humanity had been contained behind that quarantine barrier for ten thousand years, and it was only now that they were starting to make contact with the worlds beyond. Nobody knew for sure what the Fourth’s next mission was going to be, but the buzz in the Fleet was that it was likely to be Quarus, the only alien world human ships had visited so far.

  Wherever they were going, though, and whatever they were doing, Tina wanted in. The commandant could see that, and knew that she was just wasting her breath. Still, she made one last effort.

  ‘Look, you can’t do this, you just can’t. You’re not one of those malcontents, Ms Lucas, you’re a model cadet – Top Cadet! You have a responsibility here as a role model, not just for the cadets here but for all our future officers in training. You’re supposed to set the example! And here you are, refusing the most honoured, prestigious placement available, asking to go to the Fourth? Don’t do this to yourself, Ms Lucas. Don’t do this to your career, and don’t do it to the Academy, or to the Fleet.’

  Tina did not attempt to claim that this was an overreaction. She knew very well what kind of seismic shock would rock the Fleet at the news that this year’s Top Cadet had rejected the Falcon and asked to go to the Heron instead.

  ‘And anyway,’ said the commandant, with the air of grabbing at a lifeline as a thought occurred to her, ‘you can’t. The First Lord himself has ruled that it is inappropriate for cadets to serve with the Fourth. So it’s not possible for you to go there, anyway.’ She looked relieved as this realisation dawned. ‘And you can’t possibly,’ she said, ‘intend to challenge the First Lord’s own ruling.’

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nbsp; Then she saw the calm purpose in Tina’s face, and knew that that was exactly what she was going to do. She had known all along, of course, obviously, that the commandant would reject her appeal. She was just following the necessary procedure to take that appeal up through the official process to reach the point where she could challenge the First Lord directly.

  The commandant swallowed. She felt slightly sick.

  * * *

  Memorandum

  To: Commander in Chief, First Lord Admiral Dix Harangay

  From: Commander Internal Affairs, Third Lord Admiral Cerdan Jennar

  Re: Fourth Fleet Irregulars (Memorandum 1397)

  Sir,

  Since you find yourself unable to accommodate me with a meeting at this date, I require that my concerns be placed on record. I have this morning been informed that the cadet nominated for the honour of Top Cadet in this year’s graduation has rejected a placement aboard the Falcon and is applying for placement with the Fourth Fleet Irregulars instead.

  I wish it to be noted that this is precisely the kind of corrupting influence I have been expressing concern about since the inauguration of the Secondment Scheme encouraged Fleet personnel to regard the Fourth Fleet Irregulars as offering opportunity in some manner superior to that available in regular, honourable service. This corruption has now reached into the heart of the Fleet itself, disgracing what should be the pride of our graduating cadets.

  I trust there is no question of this disgraceful application being approved. I expect, as a matter of policy and discipline, that the cadet concerned will be stripped of the Top Cadet position forthwith and if she is considered suitable for graduation at all, graduated as her conduct deserves, as the lowest ranking of her class.

  I trust, furthermore, that there will be a thorough enquiry into the management of the Elite Class, in order to discover how this culture of insubordination, fostered by the Fourth Fleet Irregulars, has been allowed to infect our most prestigious Academy, and how far this has affected other cadets beside the regrettable Ms Lucas. I expect this investigation also to address the question of whether any serving member of the Fourth Fleet Irregulars has had any kind of correspondence or communication with the cadet concerned, encouraging such disgraceful behaviour.

  I await your response as a matter of urgency.

  * * *

  ‘You can go in, now.’

  Rather to her surprise, Tina had not been kept waiting. As she went into the First Lord’s office, too, he put down his pen straight away and looked at her with frank interest.

  Tina saluted and moved to attention. The office was everything she’d imagined it would be – spacious, formal, with two glass walls giving a stunning view over Chartsey’s capital city. Multi-levelled streams of traffic obscured the sky, as always on this overcrowded world.

  Lord Admiral Dix Harangay, though, was not quite what she had been expecting. The only time she’d seen him before had been during her first week at the Class of 64, when the First Lord had given them a speech. He had seemed, then, a remote and impersonal figure, Authority in the grandest of grand uniforms. Today, though, he looked quite human. Mostly, she realised, because his uniform jacket was slung on the back of his chair. It wasn’t a look you’d expect from the most senior officer in the Fleet, and certainly not during an official interview.

  ‘Ah, Ms Lucas.’ Dix waved her in, gesturing to one of the chairs facing his imposing desk. ‘Take a seat.’

  ‘Sir, yes sir!’ She responded in the approved Academy Yap, then sat down, looking at him with a little uncertainty. It had taken nerve and a great deal of determination to get to this point, to finally be allowed to make her case to the only officer who could, in fact, make this decision. The Fourth was his particular project; he had founded it and supported them throughout their development as a task force. Captain von Strada reported directly to him, and there was no way that she could be assigned to the Fourth, in fact, without the First Lord’s permission.

  ‘So,’ he said, giving her a considering look. ‘I’m familiar with all the points of your case,’ he said, with a gesture at a file open on his desk. ‘And with all the advice and warnings you have already been given.’ A slight pause, but it was clear that he was not expecting her to speak. ‘For the record,’ he asked, ‘have you been in any kind of communication with any serving member of the Fourth encouraging you to make this application?’

  ‘Sir, no sir.’ Her manner was respectful, but emphatic.

  ‘Very well. And have you considered, at all, the demand that having a cadet imposed upon them would be on the Fourth themselves? The decision to exempt them from final-year cadet placements was, after all, not only made with the safety and welfare of the cadet in mind, but in consideration of the Fourth’s own officers. They are already operating under an extraordinary pressure of work, coping with unprecedented levels of training aboard ship, as well as working very closely with the Second’s research projects, not to mention the operational demands being made upon them. Do you not consider that it would be unfair to lay the burden of training and mentoring a cadet on them, as well?’

  Tina looked calmly back at him.

  ‘I believe I could be useful, sir.’

  Such a statement from a cadet would normally get hoots of mirth from any Fleet officer. The final year placement was traditionally known as Snotty Season, when hundreds of final year cadets surged out of their Academies for their all-important shipboard experience. They could be amusing, if they fell for any of the customary jokes played on snotties by officers and crew, but they were never, ever, considered to be useful.

  Dix Harangay, however, could see that she was serious, and with the details of her file still fresh in his mind, recognised that she was not being arrogant in that belief, either. Tina Lucas had been born in space and grown up aboard freighters. She had already seen more worlds than many Fleet officers would ever visit, and had been learning engineering since she could toddle. By the age of fourteen, she had been working as a cargo boss, organising cargo and dealing with groundside authorities. Her application to Fleet Academy as she approached sixteen had been snapped up. The biggest problem she had had, he knew, had been sitting patiently through classes teaching things she already knew just as well as her instructors. If any cadet could make themselves useful aboard ship, it would be Tina. On the other hand, there was no doubt that having her aboard would indeed put extra workload on officers already stretched to the limit. Alex von Strada might consider that unfair to his officers, and when Alex von Strada considered something unfair he was emphatic in making his views known.

  Just as emphatic, in fact, as Tina Lucas was being herself. Looking at her, Dix could see the memory of another young officer sitting in that very chair, stone faced and utterly, immovably determined on a matter of principle. Alex von Strada had also been the Top Cadet of his year, rising rapidly to become the youngest skipper in the Fleet for more than two centuries. There would be a certain poetic justice, Dix felt, in giving Alex some experience of what it was like dealing with a cadet just as able – and as stubborn – as himself.

  ‘I am not prepared to give orders that require the Fourth to take on a cadet against agreed policy,’ he told her, and as she gave no reaction, went on, ‘I am, however, prepared to allow you the opportunity to make such application to Captain von Strada yourself. If you agree to that, it must be understood that it will be Captain von Strada’s decision entirely whether to accept you or not. And should he decide against you, Port Admiral Mackada will be asked to find you an alternate posting. Given that the Therik Academy cadets will have been allocated to assignments by then, that would leave you with whatever postings may still be available. Are you willing to take that chance, Ms Lucas?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, sir.’ Tina’s face gave nothing away, but there was a note of pleasure in her voice, and perhaps just a hint of relief, too.

  ‘Very well, then.’ He sat forward and wrote in the file already open on his desk, his lumopen datacoding wit
h deft flicks over the privacy-blurred screen. ‘If you’re to get to Therik before the Fourth heads out on operations, you’ll have to go by courier.’ He glanced at the time. ‘There’s one leaving for Therik in two hours. I’ll give you a docket to go with them.’ He signed the travel warrant as he spoke, adding, ‘You can take the file and a note from me to Captain von Strada yourself.’ He slipped a high security tape into the slot on his desk, downloading all the relevant files and a copy of his decision onto it with an Addressee’s Eyes Only classification.

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Tina did not whoop, cheer or jump up and run round the desk to hug him, as Fleet discipline held firm. She did, however, permit herself a note of deep, grateful respect. ‘Thank you very much.’

  Dix Harangay flicked her a look that held a twinkle of mischief, then added a hand-coded PS to the official memorandum asking Alex to take her on if it wasn’t too much of an imposition on his officers – What goes around comes around. Then he added the datacode that signified laughter, sealed the tape and handed it across the desk to her.

  ‘The best of luck to you, Ms Lucas.’

  Three

  Alex von Strada chuckled as he read his mail.

  This was the latest message from Shion. She didn’t need to tell him where she was or what she was doing. Davie North had taken on responsibility for her during their stay here, something he was qualified to do as an accredited exo-ambassador. The Diplomatic Corps, however, had them surrounded by a team ensuring both their safety and total anonymity. The League Intelligence Agency and Fleet Intelligence also had security presence, minders following their every move, and Alex got copies of all relevant reports.

  Shion, however, liked to keep him up to date, herself, with chatty notes about where she was and how much fun she was having.

  She and Davie, she told him, were having breakfast at a mountain-top café.