Lt. Reilly 2321

Chapter 7: Putting Some of the Pieces Together

Once I was back on the ship, I was able to navigate it well enough to steer it back towards the escape pods and use the magnetic tractors to pull them into the small shuttle bay. The first one I pulled in had six crew members on it, three were injured, including Captain Mitchell who was unconscious and had a hastily applied bandage wrapped around her head. Those who could walk carried those who couldn't to sickbay. The second one was the one with Kayla and the young Ensign. The last two had some of the cargo team and part of the bridge crew.

Captain Gregory Opel was the last to climb out of the fourth and last surviving escape pod that I retrieved with the crippled, but functioning cargo ship. Capt. Opel looked like he had once been a formidable soldier who had outlived his own expectations. The crows feet on the sides of his eyes were deep, and his hair was more white with a handful of strands retaining the original raven black. His stride conflicted with his hard and upright posture as he didn't move with the urgency a younger man might.

I was in the shuttle bay when the pods were retrieved. I could have performed the task from the bridge, but I didn't want to give the impression that I was trying to keep the command of his ship for myself.

Capt. Opel called his first officer over to him, whispered something into the man's ear and then waited for the officer to leave to execute his directive. He probably ordered him to go directly to the bridge and make sure they had full control over the ship before doing anything else. I assumed that because that's what I would do in his shoes. Opel then put his sights on me and took a moment to ponder a question that he did not share aloud. With a nod, he walked up to me and asked: “Why?"

I smiled and responded, “Why did I decide to save you and your crew rather than use your ship to get away?" He nodded, and I looked him in the eye. “Because even if I were guilty of the things that I've been accused of, I would never leave any fellow sailors behind."

He studied me for a moment, trying to judge if I was a man who had a shred of honor or bullshitting him to hide an agenda. “You know I'm going to have to put you back in the brig."

“Yes, Sir," I answered.

He nodded and then started to turn to give one of his men the order to take me away when I said, “I do have one request, Sir."

Opel stopped and turned back with a half-smile as he knew there was going to be a cost to their rescue. “What is that?" he asked.

“Don't request another cargo ship or rescue craft to retrieve us. Ask for a warship, nothing smaller than a Corvette."

“Why? You think the pirate who attacked us has some friends?" he asked.

“I don't think they were pirates," I said. “Pirates would have claimed their prize once you evacuated. They were assassins. And unless one of your crew has recently pissed off a crime boss or warlord, I can only conclude that they were after me because they want me to take the blame of the crash on Lion's Head without having a chance to testify in an open court.My only hope is to make it safely to an Alliance controlled port."

He looked at me with tired eyes and shook his head as he considered how much teeth my assumptions had. “Well, you know that once I get the ship secured, my next required duty is to report the incident to Command. Considering that we are in no shape to go after the ship that you crippled and the fact that there might be other hostiles in the area, I have no doubt they will send a fully armed ship to escort us the rest of our way."

“And what if they order you to surrender me to civilian authorities again before we reach the next port?" I asked.

His jaw twisted as if he was chewing on something as he considered my question. The last attack came from a ship claiming to be from the Lionhead civil defense fleet. There was a chance the real ship that they were expecting was still on its way, and there was also a chance another attacker would try the same trick. His cargo ship was not in any shape to defend itself from a sneak attack, even if an armed escort showed up in time. After a moment of contemplation, he said “Frankly, Mr. Reilly, I don't know what to think right now. One moment my day proceeded along a normal routine and the next we were under attack, and I lost half my crew. Good men and women who did their duties as proudly as if they were serving on the fleet's flagship. In war, those losses would have been difficult, but understandable as we knew who the enemy was. This,... I need to know why. I need to know who decided it was a good idea to attack my ship. If you are the key to those answers, you are not going to go anywhere until I can hand you over to Fleet Investigations myself." He then nodded to his man who took my arm and escorted me out and to the brig.

Once back in my cell I had time to think. Kayla had been brought back to it before me and had decided to give me the cot. She just took the blanket and foam pad off of it and moved it to the floor, where she had made herself comfortable enough to take a nap. I laid back on the metal slab of the cot with the spare coveralls rolled up under my head. I should have been exhausted, but my body was too wound up on adrenaline to sleep or even close my eyes for more than a minute or two. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had transpired.

This just doesn't make sense. What does Gerald have to gain by framing me for the crash? It's one thing to point the finger at me to buy him time to build a defense for his incompetence, which could be a very serious criminal charge for a ship's owner when people die, but any decent investigation would shed enough light on the truth to not let the fake charges on me stick. Having me killed would prevent me from telling my side of the story, but that would not be enough to exonerate him. In the end, a ship's Captain is responsible for any and all actions aboard their ship. Even if they were to make the charges on me stick, he would still be held accountable for letting me do whatever it is he is claiming I did. And how could he come up with the money to hire mercenaries when he could barely afford to keep his ship flying? The only person he could get that kind of money from would be his mother, and with her political and business ties, she could not risk dirtying her hands with such a venture. Just then I recalled something Kayla said.

“Kayla," I said out loud, “Kayla," I said a little louder.

“What?" she mumbled, half asleep.

“You said something the other day about Gerald taking on a job hauling spent camila rods."

“Yeah, so?"

“You have to have a cargo bay lined with polycron to transport camila rods, even spent ones. Just the installation cost is nearly as much as the value of a ship, and once the conversion is done, it takes weeks just to get the permits for the transport. How long had he been planning to do that?"

Kayla rolled over to look in my direction, a little more awake. “Not very long. Mr. Carplex told Gerald that they would have the rods in special containers that would work better than converting our cargo bay and if he could get them delivered within the week, he would pay a 100,000-credit bonus."

I must have made a face of confusion because she sat up and asked, “Why?"

“If there were cargo containers that could safely transport those kinds of rods, everybody would use them, and the transport wouldn't be so regulated. What else did Gerald tell you about this shipment?"

“Well, he didn't exactly tell me. I was doing some maintenance on the shower in his quarters when he came in and made the video call. He didn't realize I was there until afterward and got really pissed. He demanded to know what I heard. I told him I didn't even know he was there. I'm not sure he believed me, but he acted like he did. I think he got so upset because he was planning on stiffing the crew on the bonus and keeping it for himself."

I didn't say anything for a while as I knew there must be some more missing pieces to the puzzle. Kayla got up and sat on the edge of the cot near my feet. “What are you thinking?" she asked.

“I don't know," I said as I was trying to figure out what didn't fit into the story right. “Do you really think Gerald would care if the crew knew he was keeping the bonus for himself?"

“No, he would just make up an excuse about needing it to pay off old debts and hide it in that Saturn account that he thinks we don't know anything about."

“Right, so what else did you hear on that call that he didn't want you to overhear?" I asked.

“I don't know," she said as she thought about it. “That Mr. Carplex shouted at Gerald when he said the man's name out loud and demanded that he confirm that they were talking on a secured line."

I nodded as that was definitely a significant puzzle piece.

“Guard!" I yelled. “We need to talk to your Captain, Now!"