Staffa's expression hardened. "But what do I do? Hmm? Try and keep Skyla-and your mother? My time with Chrysla as a wife and lover has passed, Sinklar.
That doesn't lessen the pain when I think about her. All I can do is set her free and pray that Skyla comes back to me."
Sinklar indicated the blank screen. "My friend is out there. He's hurt.
Staffa, no matter what, I want the best of everything for Mac."
"He's going to get it. - Staffa stopped, head back, his gray cloak swirling around him. "Skyla's closing on Ily? She's racing Tedor's yacht against a CV?
And who is this assistant of hers?" Staffa gave Sinklar a worried glance. "I hope he's ... well . . . -
"Are you going to place that call to Gyton, Staffa, or do I have to do it for you?"
CHAPTER 34
5780:02:31:20:55 Terguz Council of Unions Terguz City Warrens Planet of Terguz, Imperial Regan Empire re: Inaugural Meeting Request Attention: Magister Kaylla Dawn
Seddi Warrens, Itreata
This document is to acknowledge the formation of the Terguz Council of Unions.
The Terguz Council of Unions will be, from this moment forward, the civil governing body for the Planet Terguz. The following paper is adopted in a measure of good faith and forwarded to you, Magister Kaylla Dawn, in hopes that you will find it within your powers to remove Commander Seekore and her ship, Sabot, from orbit over our world.
While we have the greatest respect for the Commander, and the Companions in g er , we have no wish to be a ftnther burden on the Companions. A great deal of time and resources are currently being expended by the Companions to maintain the pacification of Terguz.
It is with great pleasure that we inforin you that having taken a unanimous vote, we hereby adopt all instructions, resolutions, and stipulations forwarded by your office. Further, Seddi advisers are not only welcome but requested
on Terguz. We wish to stress that we will do everything within our power to ensure the prompt transition to a new government based on such principles as you deem best suited to our needs, and we look forward to consulting with you on such matters.
If you, or Commander Seekore, need any further
demonstration of our absolute good faith and total obedience to Itreata's edicts and regulations, we will be happy to forward them immediately to you or your staff via subspace, or by special CV courier.
In the meantime, we can see no further reason why Commander Seekore, or her troops, need concern themselves with Terguz since this Union Council has taken or is in the process of taking any necessary steps to maintain the public peace, tranquillity, and order. Nor do we anticipate the development of any such unrest or turmoil in the future.
We anxiously await your decision regarding our status. If you find that we are in compliance with your desires, please inform Commander Seekore as soon as possible.
5780:03:01:20:49 GST CHRS/COMM/RelRec. Sec/Chan/Delay Priority/IA
Staffa: Greetings. I have just received a communication from Terguz. After a month of Seekore, they'll agree to anything to get her off of their planet.
Further, I suspect that if differences of opinion arise in the future, the mere threat of Sabot making a port call will be enough to bring them back in line. Our long-term efforts might be best served if you send Seekore and Sabot to Antillies. Her charming diplomacy might save us some future problems there.
initial reports indicate Mag Comm is exceeding expectations. No SNAFU yet.
Kaylla
The dot of light indicating the CV had grown in the visual telemeters. Mass detectors and radiation analysis indicated that Rega One had closed to within forty thousand kilometers of the fugitives.
Skyla chugged stassa from a drinking bulb and swished the bitter liquid around her mouth before swallowing. In an effort to fight the fatigue, she worked her jaw back and forth and made faces at the glowing monitors lining the cockpit.
Rega One had settled into a boring uniformity of operation as she paralleled the Cerenkov-glowing thread of reaction mass left by the CV.
Lark lay slumped at her work station, her head canted to one side, mouth open as she slept. Skyla had timed the watch so that the kid could get one last chance to sleep and recharge her system.
Enjoy it, Lark. Ignorance is bliss, so sleep well. Skyla resettled herself to rest a different set of muscles. In her case, she'd never gone into a fight yet when she'd had a decent amount of sleep. And who knew? Maybe when it was all said and done, she wasn't capable of engaging in warfare in a rested state? Had Lark known how close they were to shooting distance, she wouldn't have been sleeping so well either.
Skyla shifted her course just a hair, altering their reaction by a minute manipulation to the bounce-back collar and changing their vector ever so slightly. Perhaps it was the sense of intuition learned from a thousand battles, but she could feel the targeting comm on the CV seeking them out.
Ily would have the advantage in the opening shots. She was shooting down into the light cone while Skyla had to shoot out, against light speed and the redshift. For the pursuer, that meant that the distance had to be closed before they could shoot back effectively. The result was the same as throwing rocks inside a well. The guy on top had gravity working for him. For the moment, Skyla and Lark were on the bottom, throwing their missiles up. Before she shot, she needed to achieve a tactical parity-and that meant breaking even with Ily. Until that moment, Skyla would hold her fire. Even if she scored a direct hit, the energy differential would render it ineffectual.
Skyla initiated the program that ran the diagnostics on the shielding. Rega One's defensive capabilities, though minimal, offered some protection, especially from a head-on shot. All ships used shielding for protection against space debris. Vacuum was a utilitarian term only. Atoms drifted throughout space, and a ship-especially one traveling at near light speed-encountered a lot of resistance. Without the electromagnetic and gravitational fields to protect them, even the most streamlined of designs would become dangerously eroded in a short period of time. Those same shields would now offer Skyla a chance to close on her rival.
Constant changes in vector allowed her to move before Ily's targeting comm could get a solid fix. In this case, the redshift worked in Skyla's favor.
Ily's targeting comm. was also bound by time and distance. As information climbed out of the light cone to the CV's sensors, it provided Skyla a delay from the time she initiated an action until Ily received it. So long as Skyla varied her position, Ily would need a lucky hit to disable Rega One.
The question is, Skyla asked herself, will Ily take the time to plot andfire, or will she run a random distribution based on statistical probability of location and hope she gets a hit ?
If the former, Skyla could drop into the expanding light shadow that would grow as Ily neared light speed. From that blind spot Skyla could climb up the CV's tailpipe and blow her out of space.
Skyla glanced at one of the small digital readouts on the lower part of the console. Once a second, a random number would flash. When it did, Skyla moved her controls in a curious code she'd worked out. One time she'd take the first, third, and fifth numerals which created a numerical value which the computer then divided for the square root. From that, Skyla made a course correction in any of three hundred and sixty degrees, minutes and seconds. The next she would take the second, forth, and sixth, or even reverse the order.
Such a system, theoretically, wouldn't produce a pattern of movement the enemy's targeting comm could discern and exploit. In the beginning, avoiding Ily's fire would prove child's play. As the vessels matched velocity, the duel would become much more difficult and dangerous. Lateral shielding on a vessel like a yacht was marginal at best, but the CV's would be little better, especially along the spindle.
The CV mounted heavier particle cannon, but created a larger target. Skyla had an advantage in maneuverability, and smaller mass.
Comm buzzed, indicating a communication received.
Fro
m the reception time, it had to have come from a lower energy state, like a planetary dish.
Skyla ordered, "Run it."
No face appeared on the monitor, the message being audio only. "Greetings, Countermeasures. Have been advised of your present status by friendly forces.
All is in order on the home front and the lady is taking us back to base.
Fascinating developments to tell you about. For now, I send you love, and wish you the very best. Be careful. Kick Rotted hell out of them for me. Prisoners not necessary.
"See you at home. I miss you."
Skyla stared at the monitor. That was it. A simple message that spoke volumes.
Staffa was spacing for Itreata aboard Chrysla. He'd accomplished his goal on Targa. He understood she was closing for the kill and had given her the best encouragement he could.
She smiled as warmth spread through her. Yes, that was Staffa. Aware of the danger she faced, but willing to let her handle it while he worried on the sidelines in far off Itreata.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on Staffa, remembering every nuance until he stared back at her, a slight smile on his thin lips. A sparkle filled those cool gray eyes as they stared into her soul. She savored the contrast of his midnight-black hair and pale skin. In her dreams, she reached up, running gentle fingers along the strong angle of his jaw.
Staffa, I'm coming back to you. I only have this one last thing to do. I'll kill them . . . free myself, and I'll be back in your arms.
He nodded, the glint hardening in his eye as he forgave her for leaving him, knowing full well the duty she must fulfill to restore her faith in herself.
How joyous their reunion would be. She could imagine herself striding down the spaceway and onto the docks at Itreata, head held high, pride in her bearing again.
He'd be waiting there, that praising smile quirking the corners of his mouth.
She'd stop an arm's length from him, head cocked in the old carefree manner, meeting his questioning gaze with challenge. That instant understanding would flash between them and he'd enfold her in those powerful arms. She'd revel in the feeling of his body against hers, hard, muscular, a bastion against the pain caused by
Arta's abuse and Ilys interrogation. Late at night, he'd be there to hold her if the dreams came to haunt her. They.d share the vigil. He for her nightmares, she for his, until all the wretched ghosts had been laid to rest.
So rapt was Skyla that she missed the opening shot of the battle. Instead, the radiation detectors buzzed, and Skyla blinked back to reality in time to note the fading haze of a blaster bolt lacing within meters of her shielding.
Skyla played the helm from instinct, aware that Ily couldn't retarget and shoot until she'd had time to determine the effect of her shot. Redshift gave Skyla a moment of reprieve as she drifted one-seventy, then two-eighty, and finally ninety degrees off her course.
Rotted Gods, how long had she been daydreaming while Ily refined her sight picture?
As Skyla managed to calm her heartbeat, she noted the new change. Ily's CV had strengthened its burn. Cerenkov radiation increased by four percent, indicating the CV had pulled another couple of gs acceleration.
"All right, bitch. Two can play at that game. " Skyla eased the throttle forward, feeling her weight sagging into the chair. She glanced over, watching the reactor climb to one-ten. At the knowledge of the stress on the system, her mouth had gone dry.
She had passed the limit dictated by sense. At that power level, all safeties were overridden. Matter and antimatter annihilated itself faster than the shielding could absorb it. The grav plates had passed their maximum safety ratings. Around her, the yacht groaned and creaked as the gs increased. Come on, Rega One, stay in one piece.
Skyla slowly dialed the reactor up to one-fifteen. She watched the monitors with slitted eyes. Could she get onetwenty out of the yacht without blowing Lark and herself into plasma? If she did, how much more could Ily wring out of the CV? Or was this simply a feint, an effort to test Skyla's resolve?
The resolve is to match with you, bitch. Then I'm going to blow you out of space. In the guts of the ship, something let loose and crashed to the deck plating. Rega One hadn't been built for this kind of abuse. She'd be leaking from the plumbing, the food dispensers, and Rot alone knew what else.
"Fix it later, Skyla. "
Concentration centered on the ship, the instruments, the, peaked reactor, and the quarry she closed on, Skyla's nerves had gone electric. The adrenaline thrill cleared her head, sharpening her wits.
"Stay in one piece, baby. Just a little longer. A couple of hours. That's all, Rega One. "
The time had come to awaken Lark. Skyla filled her lungs to call out-The blaster bolt flashed within meters of the hull, whitehot light strobed through the ports. Instinctively, Skyla laid the helm over; angular momentum pulled her savagely against the chair restraints. A loud bang hammered them as Rega One jolted down its length.
In that instant, Skyla realized something had gone radically wrong. Warning lights flashed at the same time alarm buzzers rasped obnoxiously. She barely had time to slap at the throttles with one hand, buying a bit of relief.
Relying on blind instinct, a desperate Skyla played the controls. Rega One handled like a Riparian eel in a bucket of chubba jelly.
Seconds-each an etemity-passed as Skyla fought the controls to keep the ship from spinning out of control. The view in the monitors began to oscillate. The ship shook and rattled as it started to yaw from one side to the other. Sweat beaded on Skyla's face as she fought for control, orchestrating the maneuvering jets like a symphony to slow the wallowing.
The reactor continued to burn at one-fifteen, the warnings flashing red.
Immediately, she throttled back farther, the whole time weaving the controls like a spacer on a portside drunk. Another flash, further away, indicated that Ily was still trying to tag them.
"Pus-dripping, sumpshit!" Skyla roared, still easing back, frantic fingers shutting down alarm systems on overload.
A whining sound carried through the atmosphere plant, bringing with it the acrid stink of melted plastics, and the stench of burned lubricants.
"What the hell's wrong?" Lark cried from her chair. "Looks like we're cooked,
" Skyla growled as she punched in the diagnostics with one hand while jockeying
the ship in every direction with her other. The Pus-eaten Gods help them if Ily could refine for another shot.
"Are we hit?" Lark cried.
"Nope. " Skyla got a momentary glimpse of Lark, braced in her chair, body jerking this way and that as Rega One lurched in evasive patterns at Skyla's command.
"Handling's gone," Skyla noted uneasily. "And if that's the case, I think I know what blew. "
"What . . . what blew?" Lark mumbled, disoriented by sleep and confusion.
Skyla* heaved a sigh, watching the dot of light marking Ily and Arta receding at an apparent rate. "Bounce-back collars, or I'm a Vermilion fog rhino. "
Skyla balled a fist and hammered the command console. "Rot take you, Ily!
Damn!"
"Something smells like it's burning," Lark called, eyes darting from one monitor to another. "Reactor's down to eighty and falling. Temperature's sixty kelvins above normal operating temperature. I'm getting alerts for radiation.
Looks like we've got a leak back there. Wait a minute. We've got rising temperature in the engineering section."
-Yeah," Skyla groused. "Something's on fire back there. " She yanked open the atmosphere control box, flipping the emergency switches. One by one, the pressure hatches locked. Then she tripped the fire control switch which evacuated atmosphere from the engineering section and the reactor room. So long as the fire wasn't in the guts of the wiring, vacuum should extinguish any flames.
Skyla accessed the comm, pulling up visuals. From an exhaust port, a smoke plume jetted into space as the compartment voided. The internal cameras couldn't penetrate the smoke in the reactor area. The radiation mo
nitors were going crazy.
"What are you doing?" Lark asked, voice heavy with worry.
"Killing the fire, girl. Vacuum stops fire cold. " Skyla flopped back into her chair. The endless two-g strain had vanished into a bare half gravity that made every movement seem as if her limbs were made of air.
"Think they'll come back and try to finish us off?" Lark asked.
Skyla stared woodenly at the monitors as the diagnostics began to report the damage. "No, kid. Itd take too much time and more than a little fuel. CVs don't carry that kind of extra capacity. Ilys gonna skip.
And if she's headed for Riparious, I don't believe it. Damn!"
Lark had both arms braced on her comm console, eyes wide. "So we're going to be space mechanics again, huh? " "Guess so." The diagnostics were beginning to tally the
damage. They'd blown the bounce-back collars all to corrupt hell-and that system overload had fried the generation bands. For some reason, the overload hadn't tripped the breakers, and the overload had gone critical, melting the generation bands to the point where they'd disintegrated. With nowhere to go, the energy had shorted the powerlead clear back to the reactor.
" Terguzzi whorecrap! " Skyla barked as she surveyed the damage.
,"So, how bad it is? Another two weeks of machining parts? "
Skyla wadded a flimsy printout of the trouble and threw it across the cockpit.
She gave Lark a dull stare. "Kid, we've basically melted the rudder that turns this baby. Rega One's steering is gone. Melted. You know what that means?
Lark bit her lip, nodding.
Skyla chuckled humorlessly. The dot that marked Ily's and Arta's position had moved perceptibly across the holo tank. Muffled anger and desperation twined with, a wretched feeling of frustration. "Damn!"
"What are we going to do?" Lark asked in a humbled voice.
"We've still got subspace." Skyla placed a hand to her brow. I'm going to hate this worse than anything. "I'm going to open a channel to Gyton. Looks like you're going to get a ride on a battleship, kid. "
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