A Sirius Scorching

A Sirius Scorching

Craig Conley

Copyright 2014 by Craig Conley

Published by CeeCee Publishing at

Smashwords

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First Edition

ISBN: 9780990332008

About the author:

Craig Conley always had a love for astronomy and physics, soaking up everything he could find on these subjects. His stories reflect that passion. The science he employs is based on our current level of knowledge about the universe and its workings. He also adds a sense of humor and a touch of roguishness to his pirate gang, and the results are quite entertaining. Much of his life was spent as a professional musician and that extraordinary late-night environment often colors his characters.

Books by the same author

The Jewels of Heaven (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

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The CenterMint Caper (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

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The Policeman’s Ball (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

ISBN: 9780983280149

A Credit to the Art (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

ISBN: 9780983280156

Diamonds in the Rough (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

ISBN: 9780983280163

X Marks the Spot (Second Edition - CeeCee Publishing) 2012

ISBN: 9780983280170

Rockets Full of Rubies (Second Edition – CeeCee Publishing) 2012

ISBN: 9780983280187

C O N T E N T S:

CHAPTER ONE:

News from the Rock

CHAPTER TWO:

An Escape Plan

CHAPTER THREE:

Policia Predators

CHAPTER FOUR:

Suspecting a Trap

CHAPTER FIVE:

The Jailbreak

CHAPTER SIX:

Escape to Sirius V

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Business Supplies and Police Spies

CHAPTER EIGHT:

A Sirius Scorching

CHAPTER NINE:

Recovering from Battle

CHAPTER TEN:

Going Out with an Accounting

CHAPTER ONE

News from the Rock

The myriad collection of spaceships in the Public Docking area of the Orion City Spaceport glittered in the bright morning sunlight. The dozen or so ships resting there were by and large sleek and aerodynamic constructs, although some were slightly bulbous shaped, and one was fairly close to a cube. There were a few people meandering about, coming and going between the ships, nothing much out of the ordinary, except for one conspicuous group of four men standing beside the base of one of the taller vessels, talking quietly in hushed tones.

Look, Ned, we need these weapons. What we’re about to do is scary. Just name your price. We’re over a barrel here. What do you want?

The renowned outfitter and entrepreneur, Ned Aston, stood slightly apart from the other three men. He was silent for a long moment. Finally, he spoke.

Okay, boys, I’ll sell them to you, but you have to understand, this is dangerous stuff. There could be collateral damage. I don’t want to be responsible for any innocent lives being taken. Even a prison rock has civilians on it a lot of the time. I want a guarantee that you’re only going to target the guard bunkers and watch towers…not any admin areas or service sections. Okay?

Ned studied the other three men carefully. He had a reputation to uphold. His remarkable outfitting and supply business served the far reaches of the galaxy and his resolve to conduct his affairs using fairness and honorable dealing was rooted deep in his family history…reaching back to his great-great-great grandfather…and he had no intention of sullying it. These men wanted a thousand kilos of HyperBlast explosive packed into five short-range rocket grenades without any guidance systems in them. Basically a point-and-shoot kind of thing. The possibility for error was huge. Ned didn’t want anyone to think he had delivered unsafe or excessively dangerous weaponry into the hands of ruthless individuals. He waited patiently for the response from his three customers.

This meeting was almost surreal. The three coarse, burly outlaws contrasted radically with the clean and conservatively-dressed Ned Aston. Their black spacer’s outfits, with a variety of lethal-looking weapons dangling from crossed belts on their chests, were almost the antithesis to Ned’s tan sport coat, open-collared white shirt, and grey slacks. He looked like a demure clerk from some corporate office while they reeked of danger and death. But then, his job was such that he was required to deal with a wide variety of people and appearance never figured into it. The Aston clan spread to every corner of the galaxy, and if you needed something, chances were very good that they could get it for you – for a price. Ned had inherited the family business from his father and he ran it with pride and efficiency.

We don’t want any innocents to suffer, Ned, but we have to free our partner. We’ll do the best we can not to injure anybody we don’t have to.

You know there’ve only been three successful escapes from AX709B, don’t you?

We know.

Can I ask why you’re taking such a big risk?

The taller of the outlaws hesitated. Finally, he replied, Our partner, Giles Dylan, knows where the loot from our last job is. We don’t.

One of the other men spoke up. When we took down the Electrotech payroll, we took off in four separate ships to confuse pursuit. Giles had the majority of the loot in his.

The tall man carried on the thread, Unfortunately, the Galactic Police got on his tail and gave chase. Just bad luck they chose him to go after. He made it into the asteroid belt surrounding the Sargas star and was able to elude them for almost12 hours, but they nailed him when he tried to make a break for one of the inner planets.

But then when they boarded him, the loot wasn’t aboard his ship. He had to have hidden it on one of the asteroids, but only he knows which one.

Well, it’s understandable that you’d want to break him off the work-rock, but you’d best be careful. They have long-range scanners, infrared detection, and small well-armed patrol ships in random orbits. Just knocking out the bunkers and towers won’t guarantee an easy escape. But, if you’re determined, I’ll sell you the grenades. Give me a couple of hours to get them ready. Come by my underground storehouse around five or so…bring a good-sized airsled.

Ned shook hands with the three men each in turn and left them standing at the base of the ship. As he walked, he made two quick calls and arranged for the delivery of the high-explosive and a pair of weapons specialists to pack it into the rocket grenades. After being told that they’d be ready on time, he hailed a cab from in front of the spaceport and rode out to his storehouse under the foothills of the Azure Mountain chain.

It was a brilliant sunny day on the seventh planet of the Rigel star system; the crisp, almost blue-white light from the giant star lit everything with glittering clarity. Ned relaxed in the back seat of the aircab and let the automated guidance system pilot the machine. The long growing season was in full bloom and a profuse variety of vegetation, including many colorful native flowering plants, made the countryside streaming quietly by outside seem like a paradise.

After the twelve kilometer ride through the peaceful morning, the little vehicle pulled up in front of the nondescript white house that was the front for the vast underground caverns below. Ned keyed the entry code and went down the stairs.

The large cave under the house stretched before him. As far as the eye could see, vanishing in a haze of distance, row upon row of shelving reached from floor to ceiling of the mammoth cavern. Ned climbed aboard a small aircar waiting beside the stairs and guided it down the center aisle. He pulled up beside a group of small glass cubicles and dismounted. On one of the desks he touched a computer screen and sat down behind it.

The incredible communications network his distant cousins, nieces, uncles and aunts, members of family and friends of family had assembled didn’t fail him. A few keystrokes and the layout and relevant data for work-rock AX709B streamed across the screen.

He pulled up the list of current prisoners and found the name Giles Dylan straightaway. He was about to move on to the defense systems when another name caught his eye. He leaned in closer to the screen.

Gregor Korska!

Ned sat back in his chair and frowned. That was Barbie Boutrand’s friend on Sirius Five. When had he been imprisoned?

He accessed the transfer records for the work-rock and found Korska’s name. Three days ago. He’d been hand-delivered by Captain Ronald Pointer. From aboard the Dauntless, no less!

Ned was surprised. The flagship of the Galactic Police Force fleet used to deliver a single prisoner to the work-rock? What the hell had Korska done? He pulled up the arrest records.

Aiding and abetting criminal enterprises. Interfering with the sworn duty of a police officer. Attempted escape. Conspiracy to assault a police officer. Illegal weapons possession. Unpaid parking violations. The list reeked of trumped-up excuses for imprisonment.

Ned sat back in his chair. He knew Korska had aided T.J. McDuff and his gang during their last little sojourn, but it had been his understanding that Gregor had gotten away free and made it to one of his hideout worlds. It would have been understandable that Pointer would have been furious…he hated the McDuff gang…and the absurd list of charges would have followed, but how had he caught Gregor?

Ned studied the arrest report in greater detail. Aludra XII. That planetary system had fifteen planets and eighty some-odd moons, but it was practically deserted. Korska must have been snitched off for Pointer to have been able to catch him there. Ned sat back again.

Obviously, Ron Pointer had been a little more upset than anyone had imagined for him to have made such a determined effort. In light of this new discovery, Ned decided he’d better get in touch with the McDuff pirate crew.

He put in a call to the Orion Hotel downtown where T.J. and his friends stayed, but there was no one in their suite. He left a message for them at the desk and then called the Blue Comet Ballroom and booked a table for five for the evening meal.

A ring of the door buzzer announced that the two grenade specialists had arrived and Ned went back to the entryway to meet them. He led them to the area where the grenades were and stood idly by while they worked. If his three customers were going to mount an assault on work-rock AX709B, there might be a danger that Gregor Korska could be injured, or even killed. Barbie Boutrand wouldn’t be happy about that. Ned decided he’d better slow this transaction down until he’d had a chance to talk to T.J. and his friends.

The two specialists finished re-working the grenades and Ned paid them and escorted them out of the underground warehouse. He spent some time doing research on AX709B while he waited for his customers to arrive. The famed work-rock had been upgraded with heavier security measures since Luna had freed T.J. in their daring escape a while back.

There were new scanning beams, infrared detection systems, and now there were more heavily-armed gunboat patrols in orbit around the asteroid, too. As he studied the layout of the Galactic Police Force prison, a blank section on one of his data sheets piqued his curiosity. He did a rudimentary search, but nothing came up which explained it. He sat back and considered. Something was missing. He decided he’d better put out a request to his vast network for what might be there. He made the appropriate calls and leaned back to wait.

At first glance, it appeared that the only way in was going to be just what his three customers were planning. A lightning-fast, full-frontal charge using high explosives to destroy guard towers and tech centers followed by a snatch-and-grab of their friend during the resultant confusion.

Still, even that was a very risky business. One of the patrol boats could easily blow them to smithereens if it was in the right place at the right time. Ned assumed that the three men had at least acquired the timing and routes of the gunboats…otherwise it was sheer suicide.

He searched to see if he could find the orbits and timing of the boats, but apparently the Galactic Police Force personnel manning the prison kept that info on a personal level…probably changing it at random based on the whim of the watch commander. That made it all the more difficult to discover, and all the more dangerous for his customers.

Ned decided to inaugurate a long-range scan of AX709B himself to see if he could put together a plot of the gunboats’ current activities. If he could store a few hours’ worth of info on their movements, he might be able to come up with predictions of what they were going to do and where they were going to be. He diverted one of his long-range scanners from another project he’d had in place watching the comings and goings of ships around the third planet of Procyon – the Sapphire transports he’d been expecting hadn’t panned out anyway – and reconfigured it for AX709B. Satisfied that the data stream was being fed into a computer, he turned his attention to other details he had waiting on his desk. Shortly, the door buzzed again and he went up to meet his three customers.

They had brought the heavy airsled as he’d suggested and it hovered outside in front of the house. Ned invited them down into the cavern.

"Okay, look, boys. I’ve got what you asked for, but I want a little delay in delivering them to you. Something’s come up. I’ve been trying to find out about the work-rock’s defenses and I’ve got a lot of info, but there’s something missing somewhere and I haven’t been able to come up with it yet. I don’t like unanswered questions which might lead to getting involved in a possibly disastrous situation. I have queries out throughout my network, but nothing’s come back yet. In addition, I’ve discovered that a friend of mine is on AX709B and I don’t want to take any chances that he might get hurt. I have a meeting with some other clients of mine who’ll possibly have some suggestions as to what we can do to keep him safe…that’s set up for this evening…so I’m asking you to put off taking delivery of these rocket grenades until tomorrow. Your friend on the rock isn’t going anywhere. It won’t hurt to delay a bit. In fact, it could help. I’ve started a long-range scan of the area around the asteroid to try and map out the routes of the patrol boats for you. If we give it a few hours, we might be able to predict where they’re going to show up. That’d make your