Free Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel by Jim C. Wilson Page A

finesse in how I had survived, just as there was none in how I disabled the Blade of Xerxes. I did terrible things. They accepted what I did because they had not been present. With these men, they accepted it and understood it immediately. My past was their present, and they knew the necessity with which I had fought and killed for.
    These men were comrades, brothers in arms that had shed blood. Moreover, for some strange reason, they had accepted me as one of their own.
     

9.
     
    I got back to the ship very late. I coped an earful off Maxine when I arrived. She had stayed up when I had not returned at the designated time and was a hairs breadth from sending someone out to find me. The rest of the crew were below decks, sound asleep, so Maxine could berate me all she wanted. I was in good spirits, if somewhat maudlin, but after the initial barrage Max noticed I was quietly accepting her tirade instead of arguing with her.
    “What’s got into you?” she said at last, “Has something happened?”
    “No, I just made some new friends. Apparently I’m something of a big deal among the Special Forces in this sector.”
    “Well, you heard me when I said midnight, no exceptions. What am I supposed to do with you? Artemis came back half an hour late as well! If I can’t keep my crew disciplined I might as well be flying a Junker!”
    “Hey, I’m sorry, Cap. I just lost track of time. I think it was important.” She took note of the look I gave her, and she instantly softened. She knew exactly what I was talking about.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah. I am, actually.” I gave her a smile, “Got a new Garz’a name, their Sergeant calls me naga-zak . That should give Crege the chuckles. I also made some deals; I think we’re going to be all right. Talked with an engineering Chief, he seemed a swindler but he gave us a good deal with parts and supplies. Fuel for the thrusters is going to be a problem though. Apparently combat grade fuel is a big no-no on the station. He thinks he can get me a pipeline to what we need, I just have to scratch his proverbial back first.”
    “What’s he got you doing?”
    “Said I need to go check out a deal he’s trying to make with a collector. Go eyeball his stock and come back and let him know if it’s legit.”
    “Why does he think you’d know? What is it?”
    “My guess is that they’re Ghantri weapons.”
    “Why is that special, or illegal?”
    “When the Ghantri Betrayal occurred, they felt they had enough knowledge and resources to enact their plan. They were almost right, but some of their technology wasn’t stolen or bartered for. Their weapons are unique to the system. They don’t use the Prallgian-Kronnen Principle for energy manipulation, for one. They stole shield technology from the Protectorate and the Corporations who did business with them, but there is little defence against Ghantri designed guns beyond body armour.”
    “So?”
    “So the Protectorate considers them contraband. Having a Ghantri weapon on your person is pretty much like confessing to dealing with the Ghantri in person. They’re a collector’s item, and there’s always been a black market for that kind of thing.”
    “Fuck him; we’ll get the fuel some other way.”
    “I checked around. Chief Markum was right. Combat grade fuel is a high priority for logistics right now. I don’t think we’re going to get another chance to refuel, what with the withdrawal happening.”
    “Tell me about that. Is the system safe?”
    “For the moment it is. Depends on how long the Protectorate is planning to focus on the Eridani System. Lieutenant Ormund told me that there is something brewing in Gossamer, but so far all deep patrols have come up with is the usual headlong rush every so often.”
    “Headlong rush?”
    “The Ghantri get together in warbands and bolted together spaceships. When they think they have enough, they charge the blockade, try to damage the station or get through the Jump