Proving True
Chapter 40

The days in Transit turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months. On the estimated day, Athena gives the report: “We have arrived at Neptune and are being hailed by the Star Port Authority.” The communications technician redirects the message to the loudspeaker.

“Greetings unidentified corsair, this is Neptune SPA, please send your USC and state your intentions.”

“Do so, please,” I direct the communications tech. While Neptune is not the biggest planet in the Ramaris sector—in fact it’s only about half the size of Atlas—it is well developed considering its frigid climate. There are thirteen moons and an orbital class B starport with a class AA starport on the planet itself. But it is a cold world with a very dense atmosphere. There are forty-four domed facilities that the locals call “cities” but each is capable of supporting fifty million people. Magtrain tube hubs connect all the cities. In an ideal situation, there would be a tube from each city to each city, but the construction and maintenance costs soon became unreasonable in the planning process. As is, one can get from one dome to any other in mere hours.

I hear her speak into the holoCom, complying with their directions. “Hello Neptune SPA, this is Cutlass, Captain Sonia MacTaggert commanding, late of Gallagher. USC codes of both ships are en route to you. Our mission is delivery of planetological survey data to Ms. Angela Barron, at the local United People for Science office. We request clearance to a docking port or a landing platform, please.” Off comm I ask the tech to inform Ms. Barron that we have arrived.

Typically, any delay would be a few seconds while a tech found a port to accommodate the needs of the ship in question, those being identified by the USC. It takes them five solid minutes to reply to us. This isn’t the tech we had been talking to previously. In common parlance, she was “little SPA” this is “big SPA” and he speaks with a voice unaccustomed to refusal.

“Cutlass you do have a recognized USC that does not correspond to the ship you are in, furthermore that ship has been identified as visually consistent with a vessel of interest in several incidents of piracy. You are provisionally cleared for docking at bay 119 of the orbital starport. Security will board and inspect your ship and verify your claim of planetological data and/or specimens. Your patience and cooperation are appreciated. Acknowledge.”

Oh gods above, another one of those. “Cutlass is moving to bay 119 of the orbital starport and awaiting port security elements.”

“You have a good copy, SPA out.”

“Captain,” Athena reports. “Ms. Barron has sent me the location of her offices, Buckley Manor, 4343 Farther Street, Kingstown dome. We are expected between 0900 and 1400 local time. Kingstown has a shuttle port, so we can go there directly rather than use the magtrain but she emphasized we could fly only for the initial visit. The actual movement of the specimens would be by commercial transport.”

“At least something is going smoothly here. What’s the local time where she is now?”

“It is currently 0600 ma’am.”

“Understood. Is she still on the holoCom?”

“Yes, I will route her to your station.”

“Thank you,” I tell Athena. “Ms. Barron, good morning.”

“Good morning, Captain. Is there something else I can do for you?”

“First, I have been advised of your invitation and will be there as soon as I can get there. Secondly, if you have any friends at the SPA I would appreciate a good word on our behalf. You may already be aware but the ship I started this mission in got shot out from under me and the SPA is justifiably concerned that a suspected pirate corsair has shown up at their doorstep. That is certain to generate a few acres of red tape. And having soil, plant and animal specimens will do nothing to ease the process.”

“I can see where all of that would be problematic. I will put in a call to the SPA office. I will also have a personal envoy meet you and your ship at the platform. Did I overhear correctly that you are going to bay 119 on the orbital station?”

“That is correct, ma’am.”

“Very well, play the game and jump through the hoops. The cavalry is saddling up and help is on the way. Barron out.”

Athena is back at my side, “That should help things,” she opines. “The conscious science team members have assured me that all specimens are in sealed containers and nothing can escape.”

“Let us hope they are correct. Put this order throughout the ship: stow all weapons. Safe and secure all WARBOTs. Operation Friendly is in effect.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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