Kelly agreed, turned the conn over to her, and turned in.
Alistair pushed the throttle forward and made a broad sweep around the courier ship on its port side, maneuvering to stay out of sensor range, and reach Gagarin before them. He had to confer with the special CI team before the courier ship arrived. He needed them to be very careful not to divulge their presence or be seen by the chief security officer before taking down the Gagarin network. They would not be able to advise the security office, as the special team would be arresting their boss and receptionist. This should have been obvious from the report, but Alistair liked being sure everyone understood what was expected.
Alistair’s status as a Fleet Reporting Officer gave him certain privileges and authorities. One privilege was a special code that allowed his ship to have unimpeded access to any world in the Galactic Republic with no questions, no entry or landing fees and no record of his arrival or departure. He also had a nominal equivalent rank of brigadier general and special authority to task any Fleet or Fleet Intelligence or counterintelligence unit he needed to help accomplish his mission. Alistair normally never needed these authorities and he used them sparingly. He knew from experience that the more people involved, the harder operational security became.
Alistair pushed past the courier ship some 350,000 km to his starboard and arrived in Gagarin two days before it. He conferred with the special CI team chief and ensured he understood not to spring the trap until the courier ship left Earth and they had been given the go signal from Alistair. The team chief acknowledged his instructions and left the meeting to coordinate support from the local CI office and the Special Ops School. They would be trying to arrest 12 people in ten locations, eleven if Bart and Silke weren’t together.
Coordination completed, Alistair positioned his ship in geosynchronous orbit above the Gagarin Research Facility and waited.
H’Topa sent the signal for the transport specialist to deliver his package to the ship at the Whispering Pines Spaceport on the northwest side of Star City. He gave the transporter a simple code phrase to use to identify him. The transport specialist was told to be prompt, as they would not remain on the ground for more than an hour.
The transporter acknowledged receipt of his instructions and put his material in proper order for the transfer. He filled out a shipping receipt, listing all the included packages by code name and sequence number. He had quite a bundle to pass. He was also hoping they would pass back a larger than normal package his way. His wife’s brother was spending his credits almost faster than he could earn it. If the bum didn’t get a job soon he was getting thrown out the door, no matter what his wife said. She could follow her brother out the door, if she objected this time.
At the appointed hour, after the cloak of darkness had settled over the spaceport, H’Topa ordered the ship down to the surface. He thought that this delivery would provide him the complete data on the rings he had been seeking. This Gagarin delivery should be a complete copy of the plans from the Blake’s safe, in their special language. The earlier acquired second segment of the design plan received on Shepard, written in galactic standard language, should give the Imperial Analytical Cabal a key to translate the other two segments. H’Topa just had to collect this package and one more on Earth, and he would have all the info necessary to construct a transporter ring.
The courier ship descended through the night sky and was directed to a parking space on the operations apron. The transporter met them promptly at the assigned time, gave the code phrase, and passed the package over. A package was handed back to the transporter and the gangplank started coming up as the engines wound up. The transporter quickly moved away as the crimson ship leapt back into the sky.
H’Topa opened the package and verified the contents. An entire copy of the plans, in the Blakes’ special language, was in there and as described. He locked the packages in the ship’s safe and ordered the ship to their final pick up on Earth.
Alistair watched the courier ship start its flight up through the atmosphere as he boosted out of orbit toward Earth, ahead of the courier ship. He headed off at an angle away from Gagarin for 400,000 km before increasing speed and heading straight for Earth. That should be sufficient to not appear suspicious on the courier ship’s sensor, if they could pick him up at all. The Vigilant was on a parallel course and slightly behind the K’Rang ship. If the K’Rang ship did not go to Earth as predicted, they were in position to intercept and destroy. The K’Rang courier ship must not be allowed to enter K’Rang space.
Kelly watched the courier ship on his monitor. It was making a beeline for Earth. He wasn’t letting down his guard, but he was confident that was the K’Rang’s current destination. Kelly turned the conn over to Chief B and turned in for a few hours.
As he laid on his bunk waiting for sleep, his thoughts drifted back to his last day on Earth, his graduation from the Academy. He wore his Summer White Defense Academy uniform with a forest green stripe down the leg, signifying accession into Fighter Force. He had flight wings on his chest, showing he had qualified on the F-11 Atmospheric Fighter Trainer. He was fulfilling his dream of joining Fighter Force.
He sat through the speeches and the interminable roll call to receive his diploma and another long wait to receive his commission. He stood with his classmates as they all swore the oath to defend the Constitution of the Galactic Republic. At the final word of the oath, they were officially dismissed from the Academy and their hats soared high into the air.
He was a brand new second lieutenant in Fighter Force. His classmates shook his hand, hugged him, and a few females kissed him. He had only a short time to meet with his parents, then at 1900 hours would board a shuttle to the transport ship leaving for Gagarin. His parents were disappointed that they didn’t get much of a visit with him, but the ship had to leave that evening, to deliver them all to their branch courses on time.
The Galactic Republic Transport Ship Admiral Donald B. Hanson was a purpose-built ship, specifically designed to carry ground force troops from home station to where they were needed. It was one of five such ships that were part of the Fleet Reserve. Once a year, it made the voyage from Earth, carrying the entire Defense Academy graduating class to their component basic schools on Gagarin. This trip, the Hanson was having problems with its number three engine, and would take a week longer to reach Gagarin. The ship’s engineer would attempt repairs enroute to speed their journey.
Kelly shook his dad’s hand and gave his mom a kiss goodbye as his group was called to load on the Hanson’s shuttle. Once on board the Hanson, he was assigned a four-person cabin with three other cadets, two females and a male. The Academy never assigned coed rooms, so this was something new to them. Back to back desks and clothing lockers in the middle of the cabin provided a visual block and they agreed to respect each other’s privacy. After a week, they were so used to each other that passing gas and scratching themselves while walking around in their underwear were routine occurrences on both sides of the central divide. By week two, even the underwear was sometimes optional.
The Hanson’s captain had made this particular run many times and knew what to expect when several hundred energetic males and females used to rigid discipline were set loose on their own recognizance. He had not just a Master at Arms, but an entire section under him to maintain order. They were specially trained in calming down rowdy junior officers by appealing to their sense of duty. If that didn’t work, they had Sleep Wands that could put a charging elephant down with a touch. Many a new butterbar wound up sleeping the night away in a holding cell, to be freed the next morning with no charges filed and as if nothing had happened, but that the butterbar just needed a good night’s sleep. The captain felt duty bound to deliver his cargo of junior officers as close to the condition they were when they boarded. After all, he took this same trip many years ago himself.