Wanderer - Tainted Universe

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Greenseed Station

“Incoming freighter, Sir,” called out the watch officer.

Marsh tensed immediately, as did everyone else in the control room.

“Who is it?” Marsh asked, focusing on keeping the worry from his voice. He needed to project calm confidence, even if he didn’t feel it.

“One moment, Sir…”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Marsh could see the watch officer sweating under the pressure. He was young, maybe seventeen. Much too young to be holding down such an important role, but these were far from ideal conditions.

“Take your time,” Marsh said gently.

“Yes, Sir.” The officer threw him a grateful smile.

Marsh smiled back, hiding the urge he felt to push the youngster aside and run the scan himself. These were the times he really missed captaining a warship, but those days were gone. At sixty-seven, his days of military command were behind him. The Empire had moved Marsh aside, giving him a simpler job running Greenseed station. A safe position. One where he could while away time until he retired, never having to face danger again. He almost laughed at that. How wrong they’d been.

Finally the watch officer managed to pull up the identification.

“It’s the Silver Tramp,” he said, relief in his voice. “She’s about ten minutes out.”

Marsh felt much of the tension drain out of his body. They knew the Silver Tramp. She’d visited several times in the past few weeks, picking up the food which was Greenseed’s main export and taking it where it was needed. She was a friendly.

“All right, everyone,” Marsh boomed out. “You heard the man. We know this ship. She’s a friendly. You know what to do.”

The room instantly transformed. The Battle Stations alert blared out. Weapons were activated, as were the huge defence platforms floating nearby in space. Marsh oversaw it all, not needing to take any action. His people knew what they were doing. They’d done it enough times, and he’d made certain the most critical functions were overseen by his experienced officers. Youngsters got assigned to roles like watch officer. While the information the watch officer provided was critical, if necessary someone else could always take over well before any ship neared the station.

With everyone on high alert and the massive amount of firepower focused on where the freighter would arrive, there was nothing more to do. Marsh sat back to wait, trying not to let his own tension show.

As the Silver Tramp eased to a stop at the agreed location Marsh allowed himself a deep breath. Most of the room followed suit. The freighter had been friendly the last time it visited, but that was no guarantee of anything. Its behaviour so far was encouraging, but Marsh wasn’t about to let his guard down. He’d done that once before. He was determined not to lose anyone else.

“Incoming transmission,” the comms officer called out.

“Put it through,” Marsh replied.

A large screen flared to life in front of him, showing a middle-aged man with dark skin and fuzzy hair. Marsh had never seen him before.

“Where’s the captain?” he snapped out.

The atmosphere in the control room changed in an instant, going from merely focused to razor-sharp. Hands hovered over fire controls. The man on the screen paled.

“He’s… he’s in sickbay. A container shifted unexpectedly. Mashed his leg up badly. He’s sedated at the moment. I’m his first officer.”

Marsh stared silently for a few moments, letting the tension build before he spoke.

“Well, Mr First Officer, you have a lot of people with very shaky hands holding them just above firing buttons. I suggest you and your ship don’t give us any reason to feel worried.”

“Of course! Of course, Commander. I promise you have nothing to worry about. We’re just here to pick up a shipment of food.”

“The usual amount?”

The question seemed to throw the first officer for a few moments. He’d been expecting more of a grilling. Marsh knew there was no point. Either things were on the level or they weren’t. If they were, then great. If not, there would only be one outcome, the complete destruction of the Silver Tramp. Finally, the officer managed to nod.

“Very well. Hold your position. The cargo will be delivered into your cargo bay. Once it's completed, we’ll inform you. Until then you don’t shift a centimetre. Got it?”

“Yes. Yes, Commander. And thank…”

Marsh cut him off partway through, killing the connection.

“I don’t like this,” he told the officers around him. “At the slightest hint of trouble, wipe that ship out. No second chances.”

Those in control of weapons acknowledged his orders.

“Get the delivery under way,” Marsh said. “The sooner it's on board, the sooner we can get that ship well away from here.”

Not that the Silver Tramp was that close. Even at full burn it would take a good five minutes to cross the distance to the station, but that was far closer than Marsh liked. He knew that two members of his team were doing nothing but scanning the Silver Tramp, watching for any sign it had dropped anything, or launched something towards the station.

The delivery got under way. It would take nearly thirty minutes to complete. Thirty minutes of tension and nervous trigger fingers. Marsh smiled tightly to himself.

Easy duty my arse, he thought.

Marsh watched as the last of the cargo containers was launched from Greenseed. A set of automated cargo handlers grabbed each in turn and boosted it out towards the Silver Tramp. More automated handlers waited out by the freighter, slowing the containers then loading them aboard.

Those handlers, the ones that made contact with visiting freighters, would remain in position waiting for the next arrival. None would be allowed to return to Greenseed. No one was going to risk that.

Finally the last container was loaded. The automated handlers pulled away.

“Open a channel,” Marsh told the comms officer. Moments later he was staring at the Silver Tramp’s first officer again. The man looked slightly less nervous than before, but not much.

“Loading is complete,” Marsh said. “Use the flightpath we supplied. Any deviation will lead to your destruction.”

“Thank you, Commander. Your generosity will be greatly appreciated. The food you’ve supplied will save thousands from starving.”

“And turn you a tidy profit, no doubt.”

“We… that is… yes…” The man was completely thrown. “But only from half of the shipment. The other half goes to those most in need. As you always specify. Do you want p*****t? The captain said you always refuse his offers.”

“No. We aren’t doing this for money. And I was unfair to bring that up. You are taking far more risks than we are, you and those with you. You deserve to make a profit. If you didn’t then who would deliver the food to those who really need it? Anyway, you should be going. I hope the captain recovers soon.”

“So do I!”

The first officer said it with such conviction Marsh smiled a little. The man seemed on the level, and his nervousness was certainly understandable. He knew full well how much firepower was pointing at the Silver Tramp, how small a movement it would take to see him and the rest of the crew killed.

“Safe journey,” Marsh said.

“Thank you, Commander. Stay safe.”

“I certainly intend to,” Marsh replied, then killed the link.

The Silver Tramp slowly started to move away, sticking to the flight plan exactly. Marsh allowed himself to relax a little as it built up speed, but was still tense until it finally reached safe distance and disappeared into jump space.

The relief in the room was palpable. People joked, smiled and in a couple of cases blinked away tears. Marsh didn’t blame them. Even with all their precautions, letting ships so close was terribly dangerous, but the alternative was worse. Stockpiling the huge supplies of food grown on Greenseed, maybe even destroying food eventually, while hundreds of thousands starved elsewhere in the system and at neighbouring stars.

Marsh knew he’d never take that option. No matter the risks, Greenseed would continue to supply the food to prevent at least some of those people from dying. From starvation, at least.