OMEGA Exile Read online

  Chapter 2

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  After a six-hour wait, the Belwitz transponder came up on my holo-display. She was six hundred meters in length, not overly big for a trawler. As she came close, I broadcast an all-stop signal. The Belwitz slowed to a halt.

  I hailed the captain. “This is Detective Beutcher of the New Alliance security force. Please prepare your manifest logs for inspection. I will be coming aboard.”

  The captain replied, “We are carrying sensitive medical supplies to Thalimus, Mr. Beutcher. We have to maintain a clean environment. I’m afraid you will have to inspect the logs from your ship.”

  I almost laughed out loud. Who was this barge captain to try to pull something like that? I was a three-star detective, and my credentials had no doubt shown that on his console. Were the crooks getting so bold as to openly make such requests?

  “Captain Meyers. I'm coming aboard. Open the gravity wall of your docking bay. Have your logs ready for inspection when I board.”

  The captain was silent for a several seconds. “I'm afraid I have to decline that request, Detective. We have a crewman with Duleria aboard, so I must maintain quarantine until we reach Thalimus Port.”

  I had to smile at the captain’s audacity. “Mr. Meyers, you are aware that I have full authority under the laws of the New Alliance to board and inspect that vessel. Please reduce the gravity wall on the docking bay so that I may land this cruiser on your deck. This time, Captain, I am insisting that you do so.”

  “We're having trouble with our open channel reception, Detective. I’m switching to a scrambled feed. Please enter ‘X447’ to continue receiving our broadcast.”

  This was something new. It was obvious the captain wanted to talk in private. I entered the code with the anticipation of finding out what it was he wanted.

  “Mr. Beutcher, I know this may look bad, but I'm only trying to save us both our jobs. I've always respected the law, sir. I don’t want either of us to pay the price for what others have dictated that we do.”

  I replied, “Captain, open that docking bay, or I'll be forced to shut down your core. You'll then have no choice but to turn yourself and your crew over to me for a full arrest. The Belwitz will then be towed to Thalimus Port, where it will be impounded by the colony authorities.”

  The captain was silent for several seconds. “I'll level with you, Detective. This cargo is property of Camwich Mines, a subsidiary of the Motlin Corporation. The story I told you about the quarantine is true. I have six thousand miners on this ship, and one of them has Duleria. If you come aboard, that infected miner will be logged in your public records and I will not be able to dock at Thalimus Port to unload the rest. The people who pay our salaries will be extremely unhappy with us if that happens, Mr. Beutcher. I’m pleading with you to please not do this.”

  I looked down at my empty mug. “Would you have any coffee over there, Captain?”

  Meyers replied, “I do. The last port I was at was overloaded with it due to some arguments about taxes and transfer fees. I have a good stockpile of it aboard this ship.”

  I was not one to outright break the law, but I was given discretion to bend rules while in the field; with three stars, my judgment would not be called into question. The quarantine problem the captain of the Belwitz was having, if that was indeed his problem, was not a violation of any law. It was a protocol the Thalimus port authorities, and most every other port in the galaxy, enforced for health and safety reasons.

  “Maybe we can work out a little trade, Captain. If you sell me some of that coffee, at a fair price, I will take the infected miner off your hands. My holding cells on this vessel are rated for quarantine.”

  “How do we make the transfer, Mr. Beutcher? If I allow you to dock, it becomes public record and the quarantine will be exposed.”

  I brought up the schematics of the Belwitz. “You have a dozen lifepods on there for your crew, Mr. Meyers. Blank out the transponder code on one of those, place your miner aboard, and set her afloat. I'll pick up the pod and extract the miner. You can recover it afterward.”

  The holo-image of the captain’s face floating in front of me had a smile. “I will happily give you two crates of our coffee store, Mr. Beutcher. I'll pack them on the lifepod with the miner myself.”

  I held up my hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Meyers. I still have a ship inspection to report on. You send out the miner, and I'll come over for the inspection and the coffee. We both get what we need, and we can both be on our way.”

  The lifepod was jettisoned. I allowed it to float in free space while I performed the inspection. I cringed as I let slip a single digit in my report log for where the pod had been found. The Daunte’s logs would show the correct location, but those logs were not read unless an officer’s integrity was called into question over an arrest. Without an arrest in this instance, there would be no questions and the Daunte’s logs would remain sealed.

  I brought the Daunte to a stop on the deck of the Belwitz. A smiling Captain Meyers came out to greet me with his manifest logs and two crates of high-grade Orientus coffee. Enough to last me for several months. The logs reflected one less miner in transport than had been there an hour before. The miner had been logged as having a burial in space after a natural death, an event that was not uncommon.

  I again had a moment of pang as I looked over the manifest logs of the Belwitz. I abhorred any type of dishonesty; in the field, however, compromise was something that would allow all parties to continue on with their duties. Even though it was a minor transgression, it would weigh on my conscience.

  After reviewing the logs, I insisted on a full inspection and was granted access to all sections of the ship. The miners were well cared for, and no contraband was found. I gave the captain his clean inspection report, paid a fair price of 120 credits for the coffee, and began to board the Daunte.

  I turned back toward the captain with one last question. “Mr. Meyers, you had a run-in some months ago for supposedly carrying a load of bleurgh. One of our detectives was demoted because of that. What can you tell me about that incident?”

  The captain looked down at the deck. “I was not aware of the cargo my manifest administrator had loaded aboard at the last minute. He was on the payroll of the Motlin Corporation, who had contracted for the remainder of the legitimate cargo. At the time I was OK with not having to pay the extra wage for a company worker.

  “When the detective came aboard and the container was found, I was terrified. I have a family to support, Mr. Beutcher. If I’m stuck away in some prison for years, they would have to turn to the streets for food and shelter, or even worse, to the government.

  “I’ve run an honest ship for thirty-four years, and I will do it for that many more if I can. Retirement is not something that happens often in the New Alliance. If I wish to take care of my family, I have to keep this ship moving.”

  “This is registered as a salvage trawler, Captain. Why would you be hauling miners?”

  The captain shook his head. “Live cargo is not something I want to do, Mr. Beutcher. Contracts are hard to get, and you take what comes your way. Besides, with the slowed economies everywhere, salvage is not always in demand. I’m just trying to feed my family, nothing more.”

  I was a good judge of character, and the captain’s expressions told me he was telling the truth. I nodded goodbye, and the hatch of the Daunte closed behind me. I slowly taxied out into free space, recovering the lifepod and the infected miner as I went. A grateful captain recovered the pod shortly after its second release.

  As the Belwitz sped away toward Thalimus Port, I raised dispatch on the comm. “This is Beutcher. I’m transmitting my inspection report on the Belwitz. And I came across an unregistered lifepod out here. It had one occupant, and a med scan says they have Duleria. I brought them into quarantine for transport to the proper med facilities. Sweep me back to SS5 for the drop-off, and I’ll then be on to my next inspection.”
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  Hela Gruend replied, “Roger that, Mr. Beutcher. Expect a med team to be waiting at Dock-17. Hold your position for a sweep.”

  Twenty seconds later, the Daunte was through a portal and back at the security station. I promptly moved to the assigned dock and unloaded the infected cargo.

  Soon after, I was ready for a jump to the colony at Jarvis IV, a farming colony on the boundary edge of the Beta sector. The colonies near Beta were governed by the Magnus family. As they were close allies of the Saltons, I expected no trouble.

  After my encounter with the Belwitz, it had been two solid weeks of inspections without incident. As I finished up a routine check of a food transport, I received a call over the comm. It was Captain Wendell, and he had an odd smile on his face.

  “This is Beutcher. What can I do for you, Captain?”

  “I’m glad our little talk worked, Knog.” The captain grinned. “I have Chief Detective Jamia here with me. We have a new assignment for you.”

  Jamia pushed into the camera view. “Mr. Beutcher. I was recently informed of your use of discretion in dealing with a freighter called the Belwitz. I received a personal thank-you from a Salton family representative. Your use of good judgment has already saved them half a million credits of wages for miners who would have been stuck in quarantine. I have authorized the captain to offer you a Citation of Merit, which will come with a generous credit award.”

  “Thank you, Chief. It seemed the only good call for a difficult situation.”

  Jamia nodded. “I appreciate the good attention it brought to our department, Mr. Beutcher. And given your record, along with this recognition, I have been asked to select a detective in good standing as a training partner and mentor for one of our newest academy cadets.”

  There it was, “Let no good deed go unpunished,” as my father had always said. I had not been saddled with a partner since receiving my second star more than twenty-eight years before. I could only believe my deceitful, but ingenious handling of the Belwitz matter was coming back to haunt me. The pang of discomfort over changing the digit in my report log returned.

  Jamia continued, “As an additional award, you are to be given the next two days off from duty. If you had not already guessed it was you, Mr. Beutcher, I would ask you spend that time preparing the Daunte for a new crew member. Jonias Salton will be joining your crew when you return to duty. Your assignment station will eventually be returned to Alpha Prime, and more specifically, the run between Caliphus and Beta Campus.”

  The captain said, “You hear that, Knog. Beta Campus! You'll have a chance to see the wife more than once every six months!”

  I held up my hand. “While I appreciate the kind gestures, Chief, I am afraid I will have to decline. I don’t work well with a partner. I’m not flexible enough when it comes to giving orders.”

  The Chief leaned in. “I’m afraid I must have misspoken, Mr. Beutcher. Somehow you misinterpreted what I just said as being an option. Now, I would suggest you go prepare your ship for another crewman, as Jonias Salton will be joining you in two days.

  “Oh, and one more thing, Knog: you will want to do everything in your power to keep your new partner safe. If anything should happen while they are on watch with you, I will personally fly you to Omega Station SS241, strapped to the wing of my personal shuttle. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Beutcher?”

  The Chief did not have a happy face. I glanced at the stars on my shoulder patch and then back at the Chief and nodded.

  Jamia said, “Good, I’m glad we could come to an agreement. Sometimes a little restraint and patience can be a good thing. The Daunte will be swept back here to SS5 for your time off. It begins immediately.”

  The Chief began to turn away and then looked back at the comm. “Oh, and Mr. Beutcher, know that the captain and I now have personal stakes in this assignment. I expect complete, timely reports on any inspections and on the training progress of our newest academy graduate.”

  As I began to respond, the Chief walked away.

  Paq Wendell said, “You pull this off, and we may be looking at that fourth star, Knog. You screw this up... if the Chief doesn’t send you to Omega, I will.”

  Before I could reply, the captain cut the comm link.

  In frustration, I stood and looked down at my mug. “Well, mug, just keep this between you and me, but I'm not sharing my coffee with this Jonias. He can bring his own.”

  There was no cleaning to be done on the Daunte. I kept a tight, orderly ship. With two days to kill, I decided to spend some time looking up a few old faces I knew on SS5. Betty Chocks, a Human, owned a small bar and pub, and Ogu Farr, a prior detective and fellow Grunta, had gone on to own a salvage yard. I had known each for over forty standard years.

  Betty had been a waitress at the pub when Ogu and I were in the academy. Ogu and I frequented Security Sam’s while at the academy. The three of us had become fast friends. Betty had gone on to marry the bar owner, who had later passed away, while Ogu had dropped out of the service a year out of the academy to pursue salvage.

  When I walked into Sam’s, Betty was behind the bar cleaning. “So, they let anybody behind the bar nowadays?”

  Betty smiled as she came out for a hug. “Knog, how’s Getta and the kids?”

  We talked for most of an hour about our families before the topic turned to the New Alliance. “I don’t know what’s in store for us, Betty. The managers at the security force have turned into a bunch of yes-men for the Saltons. They just saddled me with a new partner who is somehow related. These stars don’t seem to mean anything anymore.”

  “There are a lot of unhappy people out there, Knog. Every day I overhear some new conversation about taking matters into their own hands. The criminal elements have gained a lot of followers. If you don’t play by their rules, they can be just as ruthless as the Saltons’ people.

  “I had a longtime patron last week who was dragged from his home, beaten, and questioned before they let him go. Those were people from the security force. The local boss here then had his men do the same to find out what he was asked about. He's busy now packing his things and his family to move out to some remote colony.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure where it is he's going to go. The outer colonies are no better, and from most of what I've seen, they can be much worse. I saw a new security report two days ago that mentioned the disappearance of another colony. This one on the outskirts of Theta sector.”

  Several minutes later, Ogu Farr walked in, sitting on a stool next to them at the bar. Pleasantries were exchanged, and the conversation quickly turned back to the state of the alliance.

  Ogu said, “I’ve had several lean years at the yard, wasn’t moving much of anything, but that's all changed in the last few months. I've sold almost a quarter of my stock during that time. It seems someone is buying ship parts like there is no tomorrow, and they're paying premium.”

  Betty nodded. “You mention Theta. I had a guy in here the other day blabbering about a new shipyard they were building out there. He had about four too many shots in him at the time.

  “If they are building one, I have to wonder how they could possibly compete with the Betagen docks. Betagen can turn out a kilometer-long hauler in four days’ time. And with the economies on most worlds being sour, I have to wonder why anyone would be building ships, let alone a shipyard.”

  Ogu turned to face me. “You hear anything about that from the corps?”

  “Other than that security report, I haven’t heard of anything else mentioning the Theta sector. Of course, nobody talks with me at the office whenever I come in anymore. I don’t know of any reason I would be avoided other than everyone is just looking out for themselves.

  “If you make a bad or contentious bust, they've started calling in everyone you know for questioning. It’s getting to where nobody wants to make an arrest for fear of having to go before the briefing board. Times are changing and not for the better.”