“Feisty, though,” Roland objected. “And a darn good ship mechanic. I looked at the work she and Joe Ashton did on the hulk of the Settlement ship. They did a wonderful job of getting it in shape, and Ashton said that the reason why they did it so fast was that Sarah pushed herself, and him, and was really quick to figure out the best way to do things.”
“And, it turned out, she is a powerful Witch,” Elli continued. “She was the one who broke the infernal amarto-reflecting machine in the Facility lab into its components, and at the same time transported the female members of The Mission to Kordea to safety. That way The Organization could not possibly try to force the amarto-sensitive women to work for them.”
“Do you think that The Organization could have done that?” Captain Lance asked. “Forced the Witches to work for them?”
“Probably not, once the amarto-reflector was broken,” Roland conceded. “However, they had enslaved two sensitive women earlier, one of them for a quite a number of years—I don’t know the details of that, so there may have been other issues involved.
“With the reflector-refractor, the Neotsarians were doing some amazing things. They threatened the very integrity of the planet Kordea, not long ago; that attempt, thank goodness, was foiled by the Witches and the Scientific Advisor Coryn Leigh had hired for the Kordean-Confederation Liaison Office.”
“Am I right in thinking that this Scientific Advisor is a member of The Mission crew which made it out of the Facility on their own, before you two were nabbed by The Organization men?” Captain Lance asked.
“Yes. According to the last report I received from them, the three bright guys who had been held by The Organization people to invent the amarto-reflector-refractor are also with them. Jaime Morrow, the Scientific Advisor, had hopes of taking them to Kordea to recreate the machine, and to work out a way to either counter its effects, or to put them to use for the benefit of the Kordean Witch Circles.”
“Sounds like he’s showing a lot of faith in the Witches’ ability and willingness to deal with tremendous amounts of energy in a benevolent fashion,” Captain Lance said.
“I’m afraid that we all have to trust the Kordean Witches’ willingness to handle a lot of power responsibly,” Roland responded. “On the other hand, they have been doing just that, all along. I have a lot of respect for what Leigh has been doing in trying to improve the Kordean-Confederation relations.”
“For a long time,” added Elli, “those in power in the Confederation simply ignored the strange world, Kordea, pleased that the inhabitants had allowed us to place a pit-stop of a Space Port in their city of Trahea, and dismissing them as uncivilized simpletons, otherwise. The Witches repaid our slur by dismissing us, in their turn, as fools of no consequence.”
“Yet there was always a certain amount of interaction on an individual level,” Captain Lance protested. “There was trade in plants which produced amazing pharmaceuticals. The Healers in Trahea were known to be quite helpful to spacer couples whose ancestors had been living away from planetary environments for so long that they had become incapable of reproducing themselves, even with the best medical help. When necessary, they used Kordean sperm or ova in their tinkering, is the way the matter was explained to me.”
“Indeed,” agreed Roland. “You have done your research, Captain Lance. My boss, Marcues, takes the attitude that the Witches are trying to infiltrate the whole Confederation with their own genetics, but that’s just him—he has grown paranoid in his years of dealing with The Organization’s power-hunger. In fact, the Stronghold-trained Healers are as quick to help a woman end an unwanted pregnancy, as they are to help with conception, and they do both in an amazingly non-invasive manner, amazing to those of us used to the Terran brand of medicine.”
“You spent time on Kordea before going on this Mission, I understand?”
“We did. We talked at length with Coryn Leigh, and we met Witch Marlyss, the Eldest of the Circle of the Twelve—the Alpha-Witch of Kordea, to coin a term. She impressed both Elli and myself as a remarkable human being; we had no opportunity to judge her capabilities as a Witch.”
“Interesting.”
Captain Lance turned to the screen where Commander Valery’s face was; he had been listening intently to the feed coming to his ship.
“Are we supposed to be picking up the rest of the Agents on this planet?” she asked. “What’s the word on that?”
“No. The ship that was to make a stop in Trahea Port is going to handle that,” Valery replied. “Apparently the group has gained the protection of some eccentric planetary community—these border worlds seem to be a magnet for oddballs—and the Spiritual Leader of this community wants to, for some reason, meet all of The Mission members who stormed The Organization Facility. Including the women, especially the two Witches who took part. Although we have been asked to hang around this solar system, hidden preferably, until they’ve performed the rescue, just in case The Organization people decide to try something stupid.”
Roland laughed.
“Marcues must be annoyed. Agency events are slipping out of his control,” he said.
*****
“Coryn, get your ass on this Bridge, like yesterday!”
It was Steph’s voice snarling on the ship’s public address system.
Coryn, who had been introducing the two Settlement girls to an overview of Confederation history via hand-held tablets which contained reams of information on the topic (he had found the info in the Troop Carrier’s virtual library, among military tactics and an assortment of erotic videos), stood up from the lounge worktable.
“This sounds serious,” he said unnecessarily to his students, who had at least been pretending to pay attention to the lesson, delighted to have been singled out for instruction by the good-looking boss. “You’ll have to excuse me. But do continue reading.”
He hurried towards the ship’s Bridge, noting that Jillian was heading there, too. How long would it before Dian and Sarah would also show up? The fact that Steph had made his call publicly was worrisome in itself; he could have accessed Coryn on the communicator which he carried on his person.
“What’s wrong, Steph?” he asked as soon as he and Jillian had reached the Bridge.
The co-pilot’s seat was empty. Steph and the Military co-pilot, Lou Chen, had been taking turns minding the Bridge during the voyage. The vessel had now reached the solar system of the star Altec, having come out of the last omega-jump only about thirty minutes earlier. Coryn was certain that whatever had prompted Steph to alert him, had also had him sending a wake-up call to Chen, who was probably even now in the shower, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
Steph jabbed a finger at the screen in front of him.
“That’s what’s wrong,” he said. “Organization battle ships. Heading towards us. And none of our guys anywhere in sight! I thought that we were supposed to have back-up waiting for us, here!”
“That was the plan.” This was Jillian, come to stand beside Coryn, behind Steph’s chair, her eyes on what Steph had pointed out. “The troops that were to pick up Roland and Elli were also supposed to remain in this system to protect us! We’re only a Troop Carrier, after all, not a full-blown Battle Cruiser!”
“Maybe our guys are hiding,” Coryn suggested, mildly enough.
“Playing games, you mean,” Steph muttered. “Turning this operation into some kind of a tactical sand box. Or maybe the other guys had the bigger fleet of warships, and decided to take revenge for the destruction of their cute machine by doing some damage to our side!”
“Nah,” objected Jillian. “I don’t believe that for a second. If you had seen the lousy defence they had around that Lab Facility of theirs—we practically just walked in there. They were counting on their machine to defend itself!”
The Military Navigator, in the seat next to the co-pilot’s chair, looked up at Steph.
“There’s been no space battle,” he said confidently. “If there had been one, there would be debri
s galore somewhere within this solar system. I don’t detect anything like that anywhere. Whatever debris there are, is old stuff. It’s been here eons, long before the Confederation, or the Organization, were even a glimmer in the mind of anyone who wasn’t hanging by his tail in a tree.”
“You’ve got your evolutionary history all wrong, I think, Quill,” Jillian said, “but no matter. Your point is taken.
“So, Coryn, what do we do?”
“How close are those ships to us?” Coryn asked, directing his question to Steph.
He was amused by the fact that everyone was quick to toss around opinions until it was time for decision-making. Then even Jillian, bright, efficient Jillian, immediately passed the ball to him.
“If we stay on course to Altec III they’ll be within weapons range in an hour or so,” Steph enlightened him, aware that numbers on screens were not his forte.
“Any chance of leading them away on a merry chase?” Coryn asked.
“None whatsoever. Unless we want to find a set of omega co-ordinates which will take us to safety somewhere else. Which would rather negate our purposes.”
“Too true,” Coryn sighed. “What are the capabilities of this ship, as a fighter?”
“Minimal,” Steph snapped. “Troop Carriers are supposed to have escorts to protect them. Which is why I’d like to know where our gang is. They have got to know that we can’t defend ourselves for very long. We don’t even have a gunner. The Co-Pilot and the Navigator are supposed to take care of the armaments duties!”
“But we do have shielding?” Coryn asked.
“Of course. But, how long can we hope to withstand a barrage from a handful of enemy ships is anybody’s guess. Even if we can locate our back-up in the time we’ve got—and I trust that you’re scouring the heavens for them, Quill—The Organization Cruisers will be upon us, shooting, before the good guys can attack them.”
“They’re probably in the asteroid belt, hiding among rocks,” muttered the Navigator. “Likely had no idea which omega-coordinates we’d be using. But I’d bet anything they’re already aware of our presence, and are working out a plan of action. I think that our arrival point must have been closer to the enemy’s hiding place than to theirs.”
“Fine,” said Steph, still sounding irritated. “Keep searching for them. But in the meantime we’re in a pickle, and I, for one, want to get through this mission safely. I have no desire to leave my pregnant wife a widow!”
“Said the fellow who thinks nothing of performing dare-devil stunt-flights with the experimental craft in Carovan’s hangars,” Coryn stated, grinning. “Never mind, Steph, I do understand where you’re coming from. You’ve got no control of this situation.”
“So you think that’s what’s eating our ace pilot?” asked the uniformed fellow who had arrived to slip into the co-pilot’s seat. “And here I thought he was just being an arrogant cuss.”
He brushed black, wet hair away from his eyes as he sat down to study the screens. Quill, the Navigator, snickered while Steph glared at the speaker, and muttered:
“I am being an arrogant cuss.”
Coryn inhaled deeply, and stared at the dots on Steph’s screen.
“So what does the Military training tell you fellows to do in a situation like this?” he then asked, addressing the Co-Pilot and the Navigator.
“Do in a situation like this?” repeated Lou Chen. “Situations like this aren’t suppose to arise. And they don’t, if everyone is doing their jobs.”
“Please,” groaned Jillian. “Shit always happens! Surely the Armed Forces trains you to deal with the unexpected!”
Chen shrugged.
“It’s the business of the man in command—” he emphasized the word ‘man’ “—to deal with the surprises that the enemy might throw at us,” he said. “The rest of us just do our jobs, and whatever we’re told to do.”
“Cripes! The Confederation Armed Forces have been taking lessons from the Neotsarians, have they now?” Jillian snapped. “I thought that we were supposed to be the ones who freely used our brains!”
Steph directed a lop-sided grin at Jillian.
“This is why I’m an arrogant cuss these days,” he explained. And added: “So Coryn, as the man in charge, have you got any orders for us unimaginative soldiers?”
“Don’t count yourself among the unimaginative,” Coryn objected. “As I recall from our last shared mission, you’re a pretty resourceful pilot.”
“Yeah, but we’re not on the Camin 001, now, but a small Troop Carrier. A good ship for what it’s supposed to be used for, but no more a battle ship than the Camin was—less, actually.”
“We’re fully shielded,” threw in Quill, the Navigator, “and we have five F-class laser cannons. Two in the front, and one on each side, and the rear.”
“Not totally unprepared for the unexpected, then,” muttered Jillian.
“How powerful are the laser cannons?” asked Coryn.
Steph snorted.
“Not very,” he said. “The A’s are the most powerful; the F’s are way down there.”
“Yeah, they won’t do us much good until we’re right next door to the enemy,” said Chen. “By which time we’ll be finished, since Battle Cruisers have A-class shooters, among other lovely stuff.”
“In that case we’ll have to bluff our way in, preferably to face one ship at a time, praying to all known gods that our escort will show up in time to deal with most of their fleet,” said Coryn calmly. “Not much chance of anything else—assuming that we all want to live to perform our rescue mission, and to return home safely.”
“I’ve got the back-up ships on-screen, now!” cried Quill. “Just as I thought, they’d been hiding among the asteroids, and are coming out! But shit! They’re quite a ways away, and we’ll definitely be within the enemy’s firing range before they’re in position to help us!”
“Which means that we’ll have to go with the bluff,” Coryn said with a shrug.
“Excuse me questioning the fellow in charge,” said Chen, “but how the hell are you planning to bluff even one of those vessels coming at us? They know exactly how helpless we are without an escort.”
Coryn grinned.
“But we’re not quite as helpless as they ‘know’ we are,” he said. “We’ve got on board something that The Organization would dearly like to get their hands on. Or a couple of somebodies, rather. And they’ll want the Witches alive; not blown to bits.”
“I knew that you were going to go there,” said Jillian slowly, “and, I agree, the Witches are our trump card. But we should get their okay to being dangled as bait to the Neotsarians.”
“Of course,” Coryn agreed. “Do you think that they might object?”
Jillian laughed.
“Not for a second, I don’t,” she said.
Chen and Quill stared as the two of them cackled.
“The women on this vessel have more guts than the whole damned Confederation Military,” muttered Steph. “And you can quote me on that.”
At that moment, the Bridge door slid open, and Sarah and Dian hurried in.
“What’s going on?” Dian asked. “We heard Steph’s urgent call to Coryn.”
Coryn took in Sarah’s slightly rumpled appearance, and guessed that Dian had wakened her from a nap to deal with a possible crisis. Sarah had spent a lot of the trip withdrawn into herself, and he was a bit worried about her. The impending reunion with her long-lost father and brother had unsettled her emotions, he was sure, even though she had not spoken about it. Now he reached for her, and slid an arm around her waist. Perhaps facing another challenge would distract her.
“We left Nance to mind the Settlement girls,” Dian added. “She seems keener to learn Confederation history than those snips are.”
“What’s going on is that we’ll be shortly under attack,” Steph said, again jabbing a finger at the icons indicating the locations of the enemy vessels.
Both Dian and Sarah leaned over to peer at his
screen.
The potential escort ships were now there as well, but it was clear that they were still at a distance. Chen and Quill gave the two young black-haired women slightly quizzical looks, as if questioning their ability to read the screens. Jillian stared at the Military men, her arms crossed across her chest, looking annoyed. Coryn suppressed a chuckle at the sight, well aware that he was probably the person least capable of deciphering the screens—yet he was the one in charge.
“So, kid sister, and witchy associate,” said Steph. “Coryn and Jillian think that you two can help us bluff our way out of this. At least you can act as bargaining chips to get us close enough to the enemy that we can hope to hurt them with our puny guns. Is there any hope of that?”
Sarah and Dian shared a quick look.
“Puny guns is right,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “Five class-F’s, right?”
“How do you know that?” Chen asked, staring at her.
“It’s my business to know everything about this ship that we’re on, as well as a heck of a lot about other ships,” Sarah answered coolly. “I’m a trained ship mechanic. Surely they told you that one of us passengers would be providing that service?”
“Yeah, but—“. Chen looked at Quill, as if asking for help.
“We assumed that they meant one of the guys we’re supposed to be picking up,” Quill added, a bit lamely.
“You mean Joe Ashton, my husband,” Jillian said coldly. “Yeah, he’s a ship mechanic, too, and he’ll tell you that Sarah is better at it than he is. He has worked with her, and is bright enough to not underestimate obvious ability.”
Sarah’s face broke into a broad grin.
“Thanks, Jill,” she said. “Joe’s a very competent mechanic, so I appreciate his good opinion.
Love and Intrigue Under the Seven Moons of Kordea Page 31