Part 21: Standard Operation Procedure

“This is Dock Control, Bucephalus, you are clear to begin loading cargo.”

            “Roger that,” Alex said, leaning towards the com. He shut it off and flipped a switch on the control panel to open the ship’s cargo doors. Below him, Michael and Kwame were preparing to take on the supplies they’d then deliver to the SPARK program. Alex took a moment to relax; so far, everything had gone according to plan. In thirty minutes, they would be loaded and on their way.

*****

            Commander Darlon kept an eye on the supply depot while he waited for the information he requested. He moved his ship into an inconspicuous position; it wasn’t obvious that he was waiting for the freighter, but he was in position to intercept it should it attempt to run after taking on cargo. The supply depot was frequented by Kilon government contractors, but that fact did little to dissuade his suspicion.

            He pulled his attention from the view screen when he heard the ensign call to him. “Did you verify the identification of that freighter?” he asked.

            “Yes commander,” the ensign replied. “It’s a cargo ship called the Bucephalus, owned by a Terran, Class A, Alex Megálos.”

            Darlon stroked his beak with his thin, claw-like fingers. “A Class A Terran? A veteran of the Battle of Kilos, no doubt. That does not mean he is above suspicion.” He walked over to the terminal where the ensign was working. “Pull a list of all of his most recent jobs, within the past four months.”

            “Aye,” the ensign replied, tapping the request onto the readout.

Darlon began to pace the bridge. Was it boredom that was driving his search? After all, so far everything on this ship had checked out. He would be the first to admit that he was a little more cautious after the attack on the Pillar of Hercules. Kilons were not a confrontational people. They preferred consensus and negotiation over outright hostilities.

But the Redipsilon War had robbed them of their naiveté. When dealing with the other citizens of space, it was best to always be working from a position of strength. In dealing with the Terran Republic, the Kilon Federation had done well in strengthening their standing in the galaxy.

But the rash of pirate attacks, the destabilizing of intergalactic commerce, the rising unrest within Terran occupied space, these left many Kilons unnerved. Darlon’s suspicions were a reflection of that, which he well understood.

“Commander, the Bucephalus has had just one sanctioned job in the past four months, a delivery of medicine to the Rustwater settlement on the world New Kansas,” the ensign said.

“A large shipment?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary… a few kilos of standard medkits… it was inspected by Captain Phalox of the Perseverance… according to his report, the cargo bay was mostly empty.”

“A load that small wouldn’t pay the bills for long,” Darlon said, to no one in particular. He began to pace the bridge again. “Some of these human pirates… they’ve been known to run the odd legitimate job in order to maintain appearances… Ensign, what is the destination of the cargo they’re loading now?”

The ensign looked back to her readout. “It’s a classified destination. Would you like me to hail the flagship for permission to access?”

Darlon considered the option for a moment. “No, no, we will wait until we have something more substantial. No need to get the entire task force worked up over nothing… but back to their last job, Ensign, their last job wouldn’t of coincided with the Pillar of Hercules attack, would it?”

“Er… no sir.”

“No, of course not. Contact the controller at the supply depot. Have them let the Bucephalus know that we will be paying them a visit after they’ve completed taking on cargo.”

*****

Alex was working up a good sweat. Why did a job like this have to be part of some ruse? If he could get work like this on his own, he’d never have ended up working for Byron. He wiped his brow, and called out to Kwame. “How are we coming on your side?”

“Everything is loaded here,” he replied. “Just doing one final rundown of the securing straps.”

“Sounds good,” Alex said, loading one final crate. “Michael?”

“Ready to go, boss,” Michael called out from the top of a pallet. He quickly leapt to floor. “Everything is secure.”

“Good, good. I’ll run up to the cockpit and let the controller know we’re going to be leaving soon.”

Alex had to put his back flat against the wall to get to the door of the hold, but he quickly climbed back to the bridge. When he got there, the com was already lit up.

“Bucephalus, come in, this is Dock Control.”

Alex swallowed. They’d finished loading ahead of schedule. He wasn’t expecting to the controller to be calling in so soon. He took a breath, and replied, “This is Bucephalus, go ahead Dock Control.”

“Be advised, a Kilon Security vessel has requested permission to board your ship as soon as you leave the supply depot.”

“Dock Control,” Alex started, “we are on a tight schedule. I am sure all of our documentation has checked out,” then he added to himself, “It sure as hell better have.”

   “Your documentation is fine, Bucephalus, but this is not something that is up to you. It’s a routine security check, just part of doing the job here at Miraxix. Answer a few questions, and you’ll be on your way.”

            “Roger, Bucephalus out.” Alex shut off the com. He tried to relax. He was, after all, a fleet man himself. He understood security at busy spaceports. And there was no spaceport busier than Miraxix. Checks like this go with the territory. Byron handled all of the details. Everything will be fine. Alex wished he believed all of that.