Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (7 page)

“It’s possible. We’re in the Goldilocks zone. Rocks and giants outside with one rocky planetesimal inside according to my scans.” Natalya shrugged. “Probably more than one source but I wouldn’t rule out at least one hefty fusactor in one of those hull sections in there.”

The navigation computer kicked into the final approach and began applying heavy deceleration, slowing the ship for final docking. It took nearly a stan before the navigational computers were satisfied and ended the program with a triple beep.

“
Peregrine
, Dark Knight Local. Over.”

“Local,
Peregrine
. Over.”

“
Peregrine
, we show you on track to one-three-three. Will you need assistance docking?”

“Local,
Peregrine
. Negative. We have one-three-three on visual. Will hold at one zero meters for green light. Over.”

“Roger,
Peregrine
. Be advised the management doesn’t look kindly on bumping the door. Over.”

“Acknowledged, Local. Neither do I.
Peregrine
, out.”

“Dark Knight Local, out.”

“What was that about?” Zoya asked.

“Just letting us know they’ve got us on approach and we need to be careful not to scratch their paint.”

The ship faced the station and it stretched out for what seemed like kilometers in a snarl of catwalks and tubes. Small craft docking bays lined up along the nearest gantry with blocky numbers painted on the doors and spotlights shining across the pitted surfaces. Some of the numbers looked like they’d been scrubbed off with sand paper and others seemed to be missing parts of the digits.

“Not an idle warning, by the looks,” Zoya said, staring at the somewhat battered doors.

Natalya chuckled. “This is pretty good considering. Wait till you see the Junkyard.” Her fingers danced across the console’s keyboard and the ship twisted to line up with the door marked with one-three-three. “Watch our approach vector, would you, Zee? I’m on Mark One eyeball and don’t wanna look away.”

Zoya’s keys clattered and she began reading out numbers. “One thousand meters. Twenty meters per second delta-vee.”

“It looks a lot closer.”

“It’s huge,” Zoya said. “Seven hundred meters.”

Natalya punched the thrusters to take a bit of velocity off at one hundred meters and brought the ship to a stop relative to the door at precisely ten meters. A red light strobed above the door, a slow pulse that almost matched her heartbeats. After a few moments, the light turned green and the door slid downward. When it cleared, Natalya moved the ship through an opening that might have handled a freighter.

“Makes me feel really small,” Zoya said.

“Makes me wonder if they don’t have a smaller dock.”

“That, too.”

They had to wait for the outer door to close and the inner door to open before they could enter the station proper. They found themselves in a docking bay built for small ships. Several nuzzled up to docking tubes against the bulkhead. Natalya saw a few shuttles, a couple of couriers, a mining support skiff, and a large collection that she couldn’t guess about.

“Big door for little ships,” Natalya said.

“Maybe they need to let them out all at once or something.”

One of the docking tubes started to flash a green light. Natalya took a moment to wipe her palms off on her thighs and gripped the helm control again. She settled the
Peregrine
onto the deck on a big X-marks-the-spot target in front of the tube, rotating the ship so the lock side faced the tube. They watched the tube extend and heard it clamp onto the side of the ship with a soft thunk.

“
Peregrine
, Dark Knight Local. Secure engines. Stand by for port authority. Over.”

Natalya started shutting down the navigation systems as she spoke. “Roger, Local. Securing all engines. Standing by for port authority. Over.”

Almost immediately the lock-call buzzer echoed in the bridge.

She pulled off her seat belt and nodded to Zoya. “Come on. They’ll want eyeballs on both of us.”

Zoya followed her down the short corridor to the lock. Natalya opened the inner door and stepped into the lock. She waved Zoya in and closed the inner door. Two men and a woman waited outside the lock. All of them wore simple jump suits with some kind of logo on the left chest. One of the men and the woman wore sidearms, but the man in front had a tablet and a bored expression. Natalya keyed the outer door open and smiled.

The front man nodded, looking back and forth between Zoya and Natalya. “Captain?”

Natalya stepped forward. “I’m the captain and registered owner. Natalya Regyri.”

“Welcome to Dark Knight Station, Captain. I’m Thomas Russ. I’m your station liaison. How may we help you?” He smiled and it crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“This is my crew, Zoya Usoko. We need food, fuel, and gasses. We’d also like freedom of the station. It’s our first visit to Dark Knight and we’d like to look around.”

Russ’s gaze flicked to Zoya and back again. “Of course, Captain. Docking fees are a hundred a day. Shore power is available, but billed at station rates. Tankage connections are available but you’ll need to arrange for delivery with the chandlery.”

“That’s satisfactory,” Natalya said. “Do you have a banking terminal handy so we can check our balances before we get too far over our heads here?”

A tightness in the man’s face seemed to relax. “Of course, Captain. If you’d follow me? There’s a terminal right outside the tube.”

The two guards led the parade and Russ waved Natalya and Zoya ahead of him. Natalya keyed the outer door closed before following the guards into the station proper. The corridor inside felt positively roomy after being aboard the scout but fell short of the wide, well-kept promenades on CPJCT orbitals. The guards took up station on either side and Russ pointed to a mundane-looking bank kiosk mounted on the bulkhead across from the docking tube. “I trust this will suffice?”

Natalya nodded and stepped up to the console. She keyed her bank ident and stared into the darkened port. The machine beeped and the screen popped open. She checked her balances and schooled her features to a careful neutral while she queried deposits. Satisfied, she turned to Russ. “Do you need an escrow for our stay?”

Russ shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Captain. Can I ask how long you plan to remain on station?”

“Two or three days at least.”

He nodded. “We’d ask that you pay for docking fees in advance. A hundred credits for today’s docking.”

“Routing?” Natalya asked.

“DKS Services should suffice.”

She turned back to the kiosk and transferred five hundred credits to the station. “There’s five days. That should do for now.”

Russ checked his tablet and nodded. “Thank you, Captain. If you should leave earlier, any unused portion will be returned to your account.”

Natalya stepped back and motioned Zoya to the kiosk.

Zoya looked at Natalya and back at the console. “Just like home.”

Natalya nodded. “Same credentials.”

Zoya looked skeptical but stepped into the kiosk and tapped a few keys. After a brief exchange, she closed the windows and stepped away from the kiosk.

“Now, freedom of the station?” Natalya asked. “It gets a bit cramped in there.”

Russ smiled and nodded. “I can only imagine. As for freedom of the station, Mr. Kondur asked if you’d be so kind as to meet him for breakfast at 0700 station time?”

Natalya and Zoya traded glances. Zoya shrugged.

“What time is it now, Mr. Russ?” Natalya asked

“Current station time is 0436, May 27.”

“In the meantime?”

“We’d appreciate it if you’d stay aboard until meeting Mr. Kondur. It’s only a couple of stans.”

Zoya gave Natalya a nod. “I could use a nap.”

“Me, too,” Natalya said. “Of course, Mr. Russ. Should we expect an escort?”

“Tony Eng heads up the day crew. Someone from his team will be along at 0645, if that’s satisfactory?”

“Thank you, yes.” Natalya nodded to Russ and led Zoya down the docking tube to the ship, keyed the lock open, and stepped aboard. Neither woman spoke until the outer lock clamped down and the inner door opened.

“That was interesting,” Zoya said.

Natalya continued down the passageway into the galley. “I thought so, too. In what way?”

“That kiosk accessed my account from Port Newmar.”

Natalya started some water heating and picked a mint tea from the cupboard. “It would be more accurate to say the kiosk at Port Newmar accessed your account here. I told you. High Tortuga runs the banking system for the whole Western Annex. You want tea?”

Zoya shook her head. “I want a shower and a few stans communing with my closed eyelids. What did you find interesting?”

“Verkol Kondur owns this station. He wants to meet us as soon as we dock.”

“That’s unusual?”

Natalya shrugged. “Might be. I’m guessing he’s not available to every rock-knocker and jet jockey who docks here.”

“Maybe it’s the ship. You said it’s rare.”

“Possibly.” Natalya looked at the overhead and considered for a moment. “Likely, even, but it’s not the most interesting thing.”

“What would that be?”

“While we were flying in from the jump, somebody transferred fifty thousand credits into my account.”

Zoya’s eyes widened. “Who?”

Natalya snickered. “That’s the question, isn’t it? The deposit was made at the Newmar Orbital.”

“So after we escaped?”

“We didn’t so much escape as got herded.”

“Herded?”

“Yep. Somebody wanted us here at Dark Knight Station. Margaret Newmar is the driver but I don’t know what her role in this might be. For that matter I don’t know why they didn’t just hire us to do it. That fifty grand looks suspiciously like a carrot after being chased out of the sector with a stick.”

“Or evidence that you’ve been bought,” Zoya said.

Natalya grunted. “Hadn’t thought of that. Bought for what?”

“Killing Gavin?”

“But I didn’t kill him. He’s no more dead than I am.”

“He looked dead to me,” Zoya said.

Natalya shook her head. “He was supposed to, but we got hustled out of that room real fast and we were off planet before the blood stopped spreading.”

Zoya nodded half-heartedly but didn’t look convinced.

“Logic with me. You were told to stick with me. That I’d be leaving the planet. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“How long ago? Last week? Last month?”

Zoya’s gaze shifted for a moment. “Last week, I think. Maybe ten days ago.”

Natalya spread her hands in an encompassing gesture. “And voilà. Here we are. So, how did we get here?”

The realization washed across Zoya’s face like a wave. She stared at Natalya, her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out.

“Exactly. They knew I wouldn’t refuse a last hurrah with Sifu Newmar and the invites came out last week.”

“My invitation arrived the day after Captain Smith gave me my orders.”

“Smith? Really?”

Zoya shrugged. “He made no bones about it being a fake name. The only other two I met went by Jones and Garcia.”

“Really? Garcia? Was he Hispanic?”

“She was peaches and cream with flaming red hair, so I’m guessing no. Smith, on the other hand could have been. He had that dreamy, olive-toned skin. Black hair. Gorgeous eyes—”

“Yeah. That’s probably more than I needed.”

Zoya grinned for a heartbeat before turning toward her stateroom. “I’m gonna try to get some sleep. See you in a couple of stans.” She stopped at the door and looked back at Natalya. “We don’t need to set a watch or anything, do we?”

Natalya shook her head. “We’re good. The ship’s too small to hide problems, and the automated alarms pick up everything from low oxygen to armed intruders.”

Zoya nodded once. “Good.” She gave a wan smile. “It feels like we only graduated a few stans ago. Has it been a full day yet?”

Natalya glanced at the chrono. “Almost two, I think. Sleep well. I’ll knock at 0630 if you’re not moving.”

“Same.” Zoya twiddled a few fingers by way of a wave and disappeared into her stateroom.

Natalya poured boiling water over the herbal tea and punched the timer button. She needed to sleep, but she had a lot to think about and not much time to do it in.

Chapter 7
Dark Knight Station: 2363, May 27

Natalya rose just after 0600 and spent a long five ticks in the shower, letting the hot water splash over her skin and wash some of the tension out of her back. Afterward she put together an outfit of polished black ship boots, the slacks from her dress blacks, and a couple of layers of rust and red topped with her favorite brown leather flight jacket. It wasn’t exactly the height of fashion at Port Newmar but it reminded her of her father and had a lot of pockets. She added a periwinkle scarf and smiled at herself in the mirror.

Zoya raised an eyebrow at the outfit. “You expecting it to be cold?”

“Expecting we’ll have a lot to do.” She eyed Zoya’s neatly pressed undress khakis in return. “You look a little too regulation to fit in. Got a pair of jeans?”

“Seriously? You’re going out in that and you’re going to critique what I wear?”