"Do you usually act like that?"
Skyla hesitated. The kid had earned more than a little respect. She'd taken everything Skyla had dished her way, and not a cross word in return. "No. I'm usually a lot more subtle. "
"Rega One, " comm intoned. "Identify yourself. This is the Regan Imperial Battle cruiser Gyton requesting ID and the reason for your hot approach.
"Gyton! "
"Is that trouble?" Lark wondered.
"That depends on Rysta's mood. Last time we ... uh, talked, it wasn't any too pleasant for her. "
Skyla keyed up. "Affirmative, Gyton, secure line requested. Can you give me visual?"
"Affirmative, Rega One. We're computing line of sight. Prepare to receive beam."
"Affirmative. " Skyla did a quick check of her course. "All right, kid. I'm going to narrow our transmission beam. Old Tedor would have had that capability built into this rust bucket. Watch the indicator for incoming radiation. When the bands on the monitor move into an X shape, sing out.
"Got it."
"Say, 'Affirmative.' It doesn't get misinterpreted in times of stress . . .
like this. "
"Affirmative. Just a minute. They're moving. Just ... about . . . now!
, ,Locked. " Skyla keyed the mike. "This is Rega One. Have you got a lock9 "
"Affirmative. Visual processing."
Skyla watched as Rysta's face formed in the monitor. "Hello, Rysta. "
"Pus take me, you do show up at the damnedest times, Wing Commander. " The old woman looked like she'd swallowed something bitter. "Want me to r-oll over and dump again? "
"Negative. Do you have a Model Sixteen RF freighter in orbit? "
"I've got two in orbit. Both arrived within the day. Registries include Quick Fix out of Rega, and Credit Jockey out of Phillipia. Each is off-loading at the moment, their noses are up, smelling profit for a run to Sassa.
"Off-loading?" "Affirmative. Wing Commander, you don't look happy." "Have you got a manifest on what they're off-loading?" "Manufactured goods, spare parts, ceramics, electronics, that sort of thing. Nothing unusual. " Rysta's black eyes gleamed. "Want to tell me what's up?"
Skyla sagged. "It looks like I played my best hunch . . . and missed it. I'll brief you when we're in. How's the situation? Did you get the planetary comm straightened out?"
"As much as we could given the priorities coming out of Itreata. But then, you'd know that. "
I would, would I? "These two freighters, have you got an ID on the captains?
Any of them women?"
"Negative. In fact I know both of them. Takasami and Rykman. Old aristocratic families. Good traders, both of them. They're trying to gear up for the Sassan market."
Skyla slumped further. "Meet me dockside when I get in. "
"Affirmative. I've got Insystem navcomm on the other line. You're shedding enough Delta V they want to bring you in."
"Affirmative. Rega One, out.
"So you think Ily spaced for Formosa after all?" Lark asked cautiously.
Skyla knotted a fist and slammed it into the armrest. "Maybe, kid. Maybe."
What's wrong, Skyla? Losing it? You used to be better than this.
Skyla said little in the hours it took them to maneuver into Ashtan's orbiting terminal. This time, she let Ashtan Insystem bring her in while she slouched in the command chair, vacant stare on the instrument panel. Visual showed both freighters, their markings clearly discernible on the vessels' hulls. On the other side of the giant torus, a CV had just cast off, angular momentum taking her clear so she could fire up her mains.
Ashtan Navcomm took their sweet time, as if paying her back for the hot ride in. Finally, Rega One slipped her nose into the moorings, grapples clanking and the umbilicals stretching out for their sockets.
"All right, Lark, run through the shutdown sequence. Just like the manual tells you."
Lark slipped into the command chair, lip pinched in her white teeth. She frowned, eyes darting from monitor to monitor as she powered the reactor down.
"You're doing great. Now, flip the toggle for the umbilicals. That's it. Feel the gravity shift."
"I've got it."
"What happened to 'affirmative'? "Right. 'Firmative. "
"The last thing is to lock the comm. Pull that magnetic tab there and stick it in your pouch. That's it. Congratulations, kid. You've shut her down. "
Skyla ducked through the hatch, stopping long enough to swing her weapons belt on. Lark tucked her pulse pistol into her spacer's pouch.
"Is this going to be trouble?" Lark asked as they walked to the hatch. "Do I need a couple of grenades?"
"Last time you almost blew yourself up-and half the building with you. No, kid. These are friendlies. " And under her breath, she added, "I hope."
Skyla experienced the deep-space chill as the hatch cleared and opened with a thunk. Frost had already formed on the seal. Her breath curled whitely as she strode down the access way and cycled the hatch to the docking ring.
True to form, shriveled old Rysta stood there, her look as sour as Skyla had ever seen it. But given the fact that she had just blown her own pursuit of Ily and Arta, Skyla figured she didn't look much better.
"Hello, Rysta. Lark, meet Commander Rysta Braktov. "My pleasure, Commander, "
Lark greeted, offering a hand. "I believe we met once years ago. At a dinner, but I was very young at the time."
Rysta studied her. "My pleasure, too, Lark. " Then she squinted at Skyla. ". .
. Though may the Blessed Gods help you for the company you keep." Rysta cleared her throat. "You do have the damnedest timing, Wing Commander. Got a minute?"
"I might have a lot of them. What's up?"
"I want to show you something. " Rysta turned away, gesturing toward a waiting aircar. A driver, uniformed in Regan combat armor, sat at the controls.
Another of the ubiquitous electronic vehicles, this one loaded with marines, waited immediately behind the first.
Skyla hesitated. "Commander, we are on friendly terms, are we not?"
Rysta started, confused, then glanced at the marines. "Whorecrap! Of course.
You won the pus-dripping war, didn't you? Get in, Wing Commander. I've come to grips with the idea that I'll never get the pleasure of paying you back the way I'd like in this lifetime. " Rysta climbed aboard, waving Skyla into a seat. "But I suppose there are worse things. "
Skyla nodded to Lark and settled herself beside the Commander. Lark wedged herself into the cramped back where luggage usually rode.
"Should have brought a bigger vehicle," Rysta mumbled as she tapped the driver on the shoulder. Then those keen eyes turned on Skyla. "I've never been a great believer in coincidence. Funny you'd turn up now."
"Would you like to drop the cryptic crap and tell me what this is all about? "
Rysta jutted her undershot jaw. "We arrived here a couple of months ago. The whole planet was a mess. Seems that Ily's Director here flew off to the Gods know where. On the way, dear old Vida Marks dropped a virus into the system.
Staffa dispatched Mac and me to come restore order. Everything went along just fine until two days ago. At that time we had a nasty little situation occur dirtside. Found a geneticist dead. "
They were passing along the outer rim of the torus, the air chilly, smelling of lubricants, solvent, plastic, and lint. Hollow bangs sounded as they passed the freighter docks where lines of overhead conveyors shunted square, gray siaIon crates into the holding warehouse.
"A dead geneticist?"
"That's right. Someone-we don't know who-killed him in his laboratory, then wrecked the place. Mac ran a check on his people and came up all clear. After that, we turned it over to the Civil Police."
"And you think I might know something?"
"I haven't got the foggiest idea. Call it intuition." Rysta cocked her head, the action birdlike as she inspected Skyla, "I want you to see this. I was on my way over myself when your reaction mass triggered the Insystem detectors.
Thought I'd better stick around and see what kind of lunatic would be coming in that hot.
"I guess you found out."
Ahead, a knot of people stood around an open maintenance closet on the convex inner wall. Regan assault troops had cordoned the area, blasters at the ready, eyes grim. Sinklar's people. Skyla could tell by their very stance.
The aircar slowed, and a frizzy-haired Section First walked out and saluted.
She gave Skyla and Lark a quizzical glance then passed them through security.
Skyla stepped out, following Rysta as the old woman hobbled through the knot.
Skyla remembered MacRuder from the time she'd met him aboard Chrysla. Now, he looked older, shaken and pale. Worry gleamed brightly in his blue eyes, and his mouth had a crimped look. The maintenance door hung open ominously.
Rysta jabbed a thumb in Skyla's direction. "You remember Wing Commander Lyma, Mac? She was our hot burn. "Wing Commander." Mac gave her a serious nod.
"What's this all about?" Skyla asked yet again.
"In there," Mac said, jerking his head. "Take a look. This is the second one."
Skyla slipped by the crowd of soldiers and glanced in. Among the buckets, vacuums, and solvent drums lay a man's body. His spacer's suit had been left open to expose a bloody pubis. The penis and testicles appeared to have been sliced neatly from the body. Skyla stepped closer, noting the way the clothes had been fastened. "Dressed when he was dead. "
"We thought so, too," MacRuder said from behind. From the bulged eyes, the man looked like he'd been strangled. His throat bore a mottled bruise, and blood had frothed on his lips ... and then had been smeared as if brushed. "Someone hit him hard from up close."
"Palpate the ribs," Mac added. "They've been crushed. Body's cold. Forensic team is coming on the next shuttle from dirtside. They'll be able to give us a better estimate on time of death, but I'd guess six to eight to hours at least. "
Skyla nodded. "And the geneticist Rysta was talking about? Castrated, too?"
"Yeah. Did she tell you about the blaster?"
Skyla straightened in time to see Lark's wide-eyed stare. She'd elbowed her way in and swallowed hard before she backed away, looking sick.
" Rysta, " Skyla called. "Seal the terminal. No one in or out except the forensic team. "
"We've done that." Rysta stood with her thumbs hitched in her equipment belt.
"This place is airtight. The shift can't even change until we clear it - "
"What about that CV? That freighter you were talking about? "
"They cast off before this guy was found. We've ordered a recall. No response from the freighter."
"Any idea who this is?"
Mac shook his head. "As soon as Forensics gets here, they'll run prints.
Customs security is trying to function without comm. All they can do is fingerprint and take a holo. If he got on the terminal through regular means, we'll have him. "
"What about the blaster?"
Mac's eyes narrowed. "When the geneticist was murdered, the person who did it blew the place apart. We think it was a woman. She had sex with the guy before she killed him. "
Skyla stiffened. "She's here. "Who?" Mac asked, frowning.
A deathly cold chill washed over Skyla. "Arta . and Ily - 1,
"Unless they're on that freighter," Rysta pointed out. "If they are, we won't have much trouble catching them. They started outsystem with two thousand tons of Ashtan grain aboard. A sixteen RF doesn't move that fast with that kind of load."
Skyla glared down at the body. "Yeah, maybe. Or this guy's a CV pilot. Want to take any bets?"
"Come on. " Mac turned away. "They'll have files in the Customs office. Let's check the holos. In the meantime, Rysta, prepare Gyton to space."
"Ily spaced out of Terguz in a Model Sixteen RF. Victory. Used to belong to a guy named Blacker."
"Sumpshit! " Rysta grunted. "I know him. Know his family. "
"Yeah, well, he's out in the ice somewhere on Tergu rk z . Probably looking like this guy." Skyla caught sight of La who stood braced against the wall, features pale. "Come on, kid. It doesn't get any better."
It took less than a minute in the Customs office. The holos of two women were projected in the tanks. Lark stood silently at the back of the room, arms crossed. Her green eyes had hardened. A table sat in the middle of the room, several cups of cold stassa the only ornaments.
"Ily?" Mac asked, pointing to the older-looking woman. "I'll bet. But the facial work, height, and hair would throw you off. " Skyla's attention turned to the second holo. She could see Arta's features, the cheekbones, the line of the jaw. Only the amber eyes were missing. "How soon to get my yacht refueled?"
"Five hours." Mac frowned at the holos. "Next question. Which vessel do we go after? The freighter or the CV?11
"Neither one has turned back?"
Mac shook his head. "The CV answered first recall, but since then both have been silent. So if it is Ily and Arta, did they send the CV off as a Riparian swamp chase? Or did they take the freighter, figuring any pursuit would chase the CV? They would only have been betting on Qyton chasing them.
The frizzy-haired Section First leaned in the door. "Report from long-distance telementry, Mac. The freighter is shedding cargo. "
Mac met Skyla's eyes, barely nodding. "Boyz, get on comm. Call Chrysla. Tell her to sound an evacuation. I want everybody aboard Gyton within the hour.
Go!"
Chrysla? For a moment, Skyla didn't register that Mac meant the woman, not the ship. "She's with you?"
Mac's expression hardened, and Skyla read it all. "You're a brave man," she said quietly.
To his credit, Mac said, "Don't tell him. Let me." Skyla vented a weary sigh, sinking into one of the chairs around the table. "What a mess. All right.
We'll deal with it later. How are we going to do this?"
Mac moved smartly, clicking on another holo, calling up the Ashtan system. "Here's what we know. The freighter is vectored so. " He indicated with his finger. "The CV has headed out in the opposite direction, here, toward Vermilion. How many gs can you pull with Rega One?"
:'Forty-five, straining things. Maybe fifty."
'Gyton should handle forty. Maybe forty-five." Mac rubbed a hand over his face. "But she hasn't been in for scheduled maintenance for almost three years.
:'You'd better not push her past forty."
'Yeah. Rotted Gods, just once I'd like to do things in an organized fashion."
Mac lifted an eyebrow. "Acceleration pretty much makes our decision for us.
You take the CV, we'll take the freighter. "
Skyla considered the holo. Which one was Ily's? The quick 9hip, the CV? Or had she used the vessel as a decoy, planting the single comm message. The freighter, however, would have been familiar to Ily. It could have been programmed to open the cargo bay doors by remote.
"All right. " She stood. "But, First MacRuder, I want them alive when you take that freighter. Can you do that? Board her and take control in open space?"
Mac gave her a crooked smile. "You're talking about the First Targan. We've got a record on freighters. But what about you?"
Skyla motioned for Lark. "I've got no choice, MacRuder. To stop them, I've got to use cannon. I'll see if I can't disable them. I want them alive. But if it comes down to it-and at that speed-chances are that I'll blow them into plasma."
Mac gave her a thin smile, inclining his head. "Good luck, Wing Commander."
" Same to you, Division First." Skyla added to Lark, Come on, kid. We've got a ship to kill.
CHAPTER 30
5780:02:03:03:35 Aboard the Companion vessel, Black Warrior I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life. This journal entry is long overdue, but since stepping aboard this ship, I've done nothing but sit in front of a comm terminal, attempting to coordinate the logistics, administration, and enforcement of order. I suppose that of all the duties I have ever assumed, I shall be the most proud and the most
ashamed of these last months.
The Lord Commander, Staffa kar Therma, has evidently found a way to use the Seddi computer on Targa to administer his new Empire-or whatever we call it.
As a result, I am taking a well deserved rest, only answering questions when asked. The important thing is that I helped to save our people. In a small way, I hope my labors were the difference between survival and wholesale dissolution of Sassan territory.
To the credit of my commanders, whose morale had almost collapsed after the staggering defeat at Mikay, they responded to the crisis, implementing orders patched through from Itreata or from Black Warrior and generally performing above and beyond the call of duty.
In retrospect, however, I find myself embarrassed by the Sassan military.
While the Companions and Regans managed to function independently, I and my staff began to feel uncomfortable with the cumbersome, inefficient redundancy of our command structure. In comparison to our "new allies" we looked ridiculous.
This is difficult to admit, but perhaps His Holiness erred in pursuing this policy. If there has been a loser
in the recent conflict, it is the Sassan Empire. Had circumstances led us into full-scale combat as Divine Sassa. intended, the results would have been disastrous. Staffa was right about that. And I can finally forgive Myles Roma for his treason.
Divinity save us all. If Staffa's Seddi computer is incapable of managing our affairs, we won't be able to keep going much longer.
For now, I am going to sleep ... perchance to dream of better days past when I sat at the right hand of His Holiness, and the future appeared bright....
-Excerpt taken from the personal journal of Admiral Than Jakre Commander Seekore's image filled Kaylla Dawn's monitor on Itreata. The Commander appeared to be anything but what she was. Slight of build, she looked Eke a gust of wind would blow her away. The delicate features of her heart-shaped face included a petite nose, a doll's mouth, and almond-shaped eyes that seemed too large to be believed. A thick wealth of shining ink-black hair fell in glossy majesty to beyond her waist.
Despite the privacy field, Kaylla, could feel people's curious gazes, alerted no doubt by her tense posture and the knotted fists which had begun to cramp as she talked to Staffa's commander on far-off Terguz.
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