Free Wanderer 3: Tainted Universe by Simon Goodson Page B

changed to disbelief as their control collars were removed and their situation was explained.  Then the prisoners were quickly escorted to a shuttle and sent on their way.  None of them caused any problems.  They were still too stunned by events, or too suspicious of a trick, to begin throwing their weight around.
    Some times only corpses waited within a transport.  One transport had suffered a catastrophic breach.  The air had escaped quickly, leading to a horrific death for those inside.  Another had suffered a slow leak.  Jess wasn’t sure if those inside had suffered more or less than those who had died quickly.
    Ice covered the corpses in the rest of the containers filled with the dead.  The heaters had failed, taking with them any hope of surviving the trip.  The chill of space had wormed its way into the container.  To Jess they seemed to have died a peaceful death.  Certainly more peaceful than those in the transports that had lost their atmosphere.
    Jess found other containers the most difficult to deal with though.  The containers where some had survived but others were dead.  Jess knew that his choices had led to many of those deaths.  If he’d found a way to free them sooner at least some of those he'd found dead would still be alive.
    In fact if he hadn’t interfered, if he’d allowed the ships to continue to their original target, then many of those who had died would have survived the trip.  Not for long of course.  The slaves had been destined for a deadly task.  But they would have lived longer, and their deaths wouldn’t be on Jess’s hands.
    As they opened container after container the weight of the dead settled onto Jess’s shoulders.  Seeing the faces of the survivors helped, seeing them smiling as the fact they were free sank in, but it couldn’t erase the faces of those who died.
    Would it always be this way?  Would there always be those he couldn’t save?  And if so could he keep going as the weight of the dead became a heavier and heavier burden?
     

Chapter Eleven
     
    Greenseed Station
     
    “Incoming ships!”
    Marsh jerked awake at the watch officer’s cry.  It felt like he’d only just closed his eyes.  A glance at the time showed that wasn’t far from the truth.  He’d been asleep for just over an hour.  With everything that had happened he’d expected to find sleep difficult, but once Novek and his ships left Marsh had found himself unable to keep his eyes open.  The strain of the day’s events had left him exhausted.  And now there was another convoy to deal with.
    “For god’s sake,” Marsh muttered.  “Hasn’t enough happened already today?”
    “ Word’s getting around,” Alisha replied, sounding tired herself.  “And things are getting worse out there.”
    “ Yeah, I guess so,” he replied quietly.  “This is going to become a problem though.  The strain is already showing.”
    “ It doesn’t help that the commander insists on being in command twenty-four by seven,” she replied pointedly.  “That sets a bad example.  Even when people are ordered to rest they hang around in case they’re needed.”
    “ Fair point,” he conceded.
    Not that he was going to stop.  He glanced over at the watch officer — the youngster was back.
    “What sort of ships?” Marsh called out.
    “ I… I’m not sure,” the young officer replied.
    “ That isn’t a lot of use,” Marsh barked, unable to contain his frustration.
    “ No sir… but I can’t tell yet.  They aren’t transmitting any identification and they are at extreme range for the sensors.  There seems to be a large force though, and some of the ships are big.  Maybe frigate sized.”
    Marsh swallowed hard.  This was it.
    “Focus on the large ships,” he said, more gently.  “They should be easier to pick out.  How many of that size?”
    “ At least three I think.  Probably five or six, but I can’t be sure yet.”
    Marsh sank back in his chair.  Three frigates