Home Run (Smuggler's Tales From the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper Book 3) Read online

  This book and parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fractiously. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Visit us on the web at: www.solarclipper.com

  Copyright © 2018 by Nathan Lowell

  Cover Art J. Daniel Sawyer

  Cover art by Artistic Whispers

  First Printing: July, 2018

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  About The Author

  To Karen Conlin

  My grammar angel who always brings

  the grammargeddon to my stories.

  Without her work you'd be reafing a lot more typos.

  Chapter 1

  Margary System:

  2368, January 27

  The Peregrine jumped into Margary from the Deep Dark. Natalya Regyri looked at the instruments and then out at the system around them. “You’re home.” She looked over and found Zoya Usoko staring out the armorglass of the cockpit, a small smile playing around her mouth.

  “Never thought I’d be coming home like this,” she said.

  “Like what?” Natalya asked.

  “Jumping out of the Deep Dark in an antique exploration scout almost five stanyers after graduating from the academy.”

  “Have you contacted your family?”

  “A couple of times. Once when we got settled at Dark Knight, and I sent them a quick ‘I’m still alive’ message when we docked at Siren. They wrote back asking when I was coming back but I never had a good answer until now.” Zoya shrugged and glanced at Natalya. “I haven’t let them know we’re coming. We took off on the spur of the moment and there hasn’t been an opportunity since.”

  Natalya nodded. “Well, Astrogator, time to plot us in because I sure as hell don’t know where we’re going.”

  Zoya gave a short laugh and pulled up her ephemeris for Margary, tagging a CPJCT orbital as destination and letting the Mark Sixteens do the work. “They did a good job on these new consoles.”

  “I keep kicking myself for not letting them replace the fiber and give us the Mark Twenties.”

  “You said the cable run was already full,” Zoya said.

  “It is.” Natalya sighed. “The ship is about as upgraded as it can be given the limitations of the hull. We’d have had to extend the hull, but they’d have paid for it.”

  Zoya’s console kicked up a window with a course plotted, requiring her command to execute. “I’ve got the course. We go for burn?”

  “Do it,” Natalya said, leaning back on the couch.

  The stars outside the ship twisted and spun as the attitudinal thruster re-oriented the ship before the heavy rumble of the main propulsion engine aft started to kick them onto a new vector. “I make it about thirty-eight stans,” Zoya said.

  “Time for a shower and a nap or two.” Natalya popped the harness release. “What’s your pleasure?”

  Zoya sat back and looked out at the system around her. “I’m not sleepy. Maybe I’ll just sit here for a little while and stare.”

  “Hungry?” Natalya asked.

  “I could eat. You gonna zap something?”

  “Was thinking about it.”

  “We got any coffee left?” Zoya asked, glancing at her.

  “Might be enough for a couple more pots before we have to shift to tea.”

  Zoya lifted her chin in a reverse nod toward the bow of the ship. “We’re going to be able to get more pretty soon now.”

  Natalya grinned. “Coffee it is.”

  A few ticks later the dark aroma wafted through the cockpit. “We got any of those chicken dinners left?” Zoya asked over her shoulder.

  Natalya popped her head around the corner. “Which ones? We’ve got a couple of the chicken curries. Might have one of the chicken and gravy things.” She grimaced. “We ate all the fried chicken.”

  “I’ll take the curry.”

  Natalya gave a thumbs up and ducked back into the closet that passed for a galley. “I got spoiled by Panko’s galley.” Natalya’s voice sounded a bit muffled coming out of the tiny space.

  “You have to admit, he made you a good offer.”

  Natalya came back into the cockpit carrying a covered mug and a steaming meal. “Fresh from the oven,” she said, handing over the meal. “Hot. Watch your fingers.”

  Zoya took it, being careful to hold it by the edges. She set it on her lap as Natalya slotted the cup into the holder on Zoya’s couch. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Natalya said glancing around the cockpit. “And yeah, that was a good offer. I wonder if I’ll regret refusing.”

  “Maybe,” Zoya said. She took a careful sip of the coffee, letting the aromatic steam bathe her face. “But I’ve never known you to second-guess yourself.”

  Natalya laughed. “Always a first time.” A timer dinged in the galley. “That’s mine.” She padded away only to return with a cup and dish of her own. “How far out are we? We need to contact the orbital?”

  “They have a twenty-four stan threshold,” Zoya said. “We jumped in close enough that they can see us. Probably laying in the approach vector for us already. The haulers will stay out of the transient shipping lanes. They mostly run to the smelters anyway.”

  “Do you need to contact your family?�
��

  Zoya looked out at the dark. “Probably,” she said after several moments.

  “You all right?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya nodded and took a bite of her chicken. “Yeah. It just feels strange.”

  “You were close to your parents?”

  Zoya shook her head. “Grandparents. My father didn’t really want anything to do with the company. He fell in love with mining. Hated the management side of Usoko Mining. My mother stayed with him, helping on the mining barge until she died.”

  Natalya bit her lip and looked down at her coffee. “Sorry.”

  “Long time ago. I was six. Didn’t really understand it since I rarely saw them anyway. It was a problem with one of the drills.” Zoya shrugged, turning her attention to the meal on her lap. “I never really knew them. Just what I was told growing up with my grandparents.”

  “So, does your father have a claim on the company?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya frowned while she chewed. She shook her head and swallowed before answering. “I don’t think so. I honestly don’t know. It’ll depend on what’s in the wills, I suppose.”

  “Caldicott seemed to think you’re the heir apparent back on High Tortuga.”

  Zoya’s frown deepened. “Yeah. That was odd. My grandparents haven’t said anything about it since I told them I wanted to go to the academy.”

  “Before that?” Natalya asked.

  “Before that, I heard a lot about how it would all be mine some day. I always figured that day was a long way off because the grands are both pretty healthy and my father has another century ahead of him.” She picked up another piece of chicken and sauce from the dish and popped it into her mouth.

  Natalya settled back with her own meal and let the conversation peter out naturally. She still felt the tension radiating off Zoya but gave her space. She tried to imagine what she’d feel if she were jumping into a system where her parents were. It had been so long since she’d seen either of them.

  They ate in companionable silence for a time before Natalya said, “My father always said my job was to live my own life.”

  “Pop-pop always said I should follow my heart.” Zoya glanced at Natalya with a sideways grin. “Granny always told me to mind my cash flows.”

  “We haven’t done too badly,” Natalya said.

  “We haven’t,” Zoya said. “It was kinda close back on Dark Knight.”

  Natalya sighed. “Not that close. It was demoralizing because we couldn’t seem to get much ahead but we weren’t ever in danger of losing atmosphere.”

  Zoya nodded. “I could agree with that.” She looked at Natalya. “Now. Was it luck that Allen and Dorion found us for that courier gig?”

  Natalya felt the frown growing on her forehead. “Good question. One we’ll probably never get an answer to.”

  “Can’t argue that,” Zoya said. “I wonder if we’re still getting paid from the blind trust.”

  “I didn’t check before we left Ravaine,” Natalya said.

  “Me either. We’re due for another payment in a few days. We’ll be docked by then.”

  “Your grandparents live on the orbital?”

  Zoya chuckled. “No. They’ll probably want us to move over to Big Rock with them.”

  “They live in an asteroid?”

  “Sure. Why not? Saves a lot on rent.”

  “Isn’t that kind of cramped?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya chuckled again. “You’ll see.”

  Natalya laughed and stood, pointing at Zoya’s empty tray. “Here. Lemme take that.”

  Zoya handed it over and picked her coffee cup out of the holder again. “You want first nap?”

  “Yeah. I want to be awake for the approach to the orbital.” Natalya paused and looked forward, out into the darkness beyond the armorglass. “Think we’ll be arrested?”

  “What for? We’re not carrying any contraband and—as you’ve pointed out—it doesn’t really matter what the CPJCT thinks about Toe-Hold space. It’s not illegal to jump through the Deep Dark.”

  “True,” Natalya said, staring into the void. “Maybe we should try for our second mate tickets.”

  Zoya’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”

  “Well, we can only do it here in the High Line. We’ve been thirds for—what? Going on five stanyers. We only needed a year’s time in grade.”

  “Five in May,” Zoya said. She nodded, as if to herself. “Yeah. We should probably look into that. If nothing else, it’ll give us a look at what the CPJCT has on record for us since we graduated.”

  Natalya chuckled as she ducked into the galley. “I was thinking that exact same thing.”

  Chapter 2

  Margary Orbital:

  2368, January 29

  Natalya had a bad feeling when she opened the lock and found a welcoming committee waiting: a few black uniforms and a CPCJT customs inspector. None of whom smiled when she popped the lock and stepped into the docking bay.

  The inspector stepped up first. “You are?” the woman asked.

  “Natalya Regyri.”

  “You’re the registered owner of this vessel?”

  She started to answer in the affirmative but clicked her mouth closed at the last moment. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

  The leader of the TIC contingent stepped forward when the inspector looked back at him over her shoulder. “Care to explain that?” he asked.

  “My father gave me the ship to take to the academy. I really never took any notice of whether he passed the registration to me. I believe I’m the owner, but if not, it belongs to my father.”

  “What’s his name?” the TIC agent asked.

  “Demetri Regyri.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Natalya took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since I went to the academy.”

  “You graduated from the academy at Port Newmar in ’63,” the TIC agent said. “You don’t find it odd that you haven’t heard from him in—what? Something like ten stanyers?”

  “You clearly don’t know my father.”

  Zoya stepped out of the lock behind Natalya. “Can I ask what this is about?”

  “You are?” the TIC agent asked.

  “Zoya Usoko. Who are you?”

  Natalya looked over her shoulder at Zoya. “Zee?”

  A flicker of a grin teased the corner of Zoya’s mouth.

  When Natalya looked back at the waiting throng, the number of red faces and looks of consternation baffled her for a moment.

  “Agent Alexander Allen, Ms. Usoko. Can I see your IDs?” Agent Allen seemed a bit less brusque all of a sudden.

  “I’ve got to go get it. It’s in my stateroom,” Natalya said.

  The agent looked at Zoya. “Yours?”

  “I’m reaching into my shoulder pocket to retrieve it,” Zoya said and, moving slowly, reached into the pocket on the sleeve of her shipsuit with two fingers to pluck her photo ID out. She extended her arm toward the agent.

  The agent stepped forward and took it—almost gingerly—from her hand. He looked at it then back at Zoya then back at the ID. “This is your academy ID card.”

  “Yes. We haven’t really had cause to need anything else.”

  He looked at Natalya. “Yours is from the academy?”

  Natalya nodded. “I don’t usually carry it with me. Nobody’s asked me for an ID since we graduated.”

  He frowned slightly at that. “What have you been doing?”

  “That’s not really any of your concern unless you have a warrant or probable cause,” Zoya said before Natalya could reply.

  Natalya looked at Zoya again. She’d never seen Zoya as the ice queen before and she found it a bit disturbing.

  Zoya glanced at her and gave a little shake of her head.

  The customs agent stepped up. “I—uh—need to inspect the ship.”

  “That okay with you, Captain?” Zoya asked.

  Natalya shrugged. “Of course.”

&nbs
p; Zoya stepped off the ramp, clearing the way into the ship.

  “You’re a captain?” the TIC agent asked, his eyebrows rising.

  “I run this ship. I don’t have a master’s license, of course,” Natalya said. “I don’t need one for a ship of this class.”

  The TIC agent blinked a couple of times as if trying to process her statement. “If you’re engaged in commercial activity—” he started to say, but clamped his mouth closed. “That’s an exploration scout, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Natalya said. “Might be one of the last space-worthy ones left in the Western Annex.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” Zoya said.

  The agent looked at her. “Your question?”

  “What is this all about?” She waved her hand to indicate the cluster of uniformed TIC agents behind him. “Why all these questions?”

  The agent swallowed and cleared his throat a couple of times. “Well. When we got word that a ship that hasn’t been seen since it left Port Newmar five stanyers ago—” He stopped and shrugged. “We assumed it must have been stolen.” He paused and swallowed again. “Or something.”

  “We’ve been working out of Odin’s Outpost,” Zoya said. “I assume you’ve heard of it.”

  The agent’s head cocked to one side. “That renegade station over in Diurnia?”

  Zoya shrugged. “I have no idea what its status is with the CPJCT but it’s a common tourist destination. They have good coffee and better food.”

  One of the agents in the back nodded as if in confirmation.

  Agent Allen looked at the ID in his hand and back at Zoya. “Are you any relation to ... ” He paused. “Usoko Mining?”

  “No,” she said. “I have no relationship with the company other than my grandparents own it.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry but I have to ask. Can you prove it?”

  “You want to call them?” Zoya asked.

  The agent’s eyes said no, but his mouth said, “I’m afraid I have to.”

  Zoya shrugged. “They won’t bite. They’re not expecting me, so they might be grateful.”

  The agent gave a short, jerky nod of his head and stepped back. “I’ll just be a moment.” He pulled his tablet out and scanned the ID before tapping some kind of message onto the screen.