Generation Warriors

by Anne McCaffrey

  The senior officers, including Major Currald, were ranged around her while the bridge crew pretended to pay strict attention to their monitors.

  "Civilians." Bures looked almost as disgusted as she felt. "You know, if they're so scared of Fleet that they won't let us use our own shuttles up and down, then they probably think we're all born with blood in our mouths and fangs down to here." He gestured at his chin. "Long pointed ones. We go around covered with weapons, just looking for a chance to kill someone."

  "News said the guy might not have been Coromell after all," said Mayerd who had come up to the bridge to watch the news with them. "Not that that helps. Good thing we don't have trouble in the neighborhood. It'd be worse if we had action coming."

  Arly frowned at her. Doctors were the next thing to civilian, as far as she was concerned. "You know what she said. She thought there might be trouble . . ."

  "Like what? An invasion of mysterious green-tentacled slime monsters? We're at the center of as big a volume of peaceful space as anyone's ever known. Barring a few planet pirates, and I'm not minimizing that. But the last big stuff was decades back. Even the Seti haven't dared Fleet reprisals since the Tonagai Reef encounters. They may be gamblers, but they aren't stupid. I suppose, if the Paradens got all their pirate buddies to come blowing into FedCentral at once, they might cause us trouble, but they're not stupid either. They need a fat, peaceful culture to prey on. A shark has no advantages in a school of sharks."

  Arly and Bures had crossed glances above Mayerd. Arly had to admit she had never considered a whole pirate fleet. They just didn't operate that way. Two or three raiders at once, more only in defense of an illegal installation. But now, with Sassinak lost somewhere below, the whole weight of the ship rested on her shoulders. She wished Ford would show up from wherever he'd been. She wished Sassinak would come back. Blast that admiral, she thought. Coromell, or whoever it had been, luring her away. And why? The trial? To have the Zaid-Dayan helpless?

  The Fleet comm line blinked at her, and she put the button in her ear. "Lieutenant Commander Arly, acting captain of Zaid-Dayan."

  "Arly, it's Lunzie. Do you recognize my voice?"

  Of course she did. She'd enjoyed meeting Sassinak's astonishing young ancestor. But why was Lunzie calling on the Fleet line? "Yes. Why?"

  "You need to know I'm who I say I am. I'm on FedCentral. I can't tell you where."

  Arly's heart skipped a beat. Could she be with the captain? Were they in hiding?

  "Sass—Commander Sassinak?" She heard the rough edge to her own voice, and hoped it would not carry.

  "We don't know. Arly, the real Admiral Coromell wants to speak to you. I know he's the real Coromell because I knew him years ago. Before my last session of coldsleep. Do you trust me?"

  Something in the voice sounded different; something had changed since Arly had said goodbye as Lunzie left the ship back at Sector HQ. Arly considered. Lunzie sounded more mature, more confident. Did that matter? Did it mean anything at all? And even if she didn't trust Lunzie, she still wanted to hear what this mysterious Coromell had to say. She gestured to Bures, who bent close, and tapped out a message on her console: get Flag Officer Directory. Bures nodded. Arly spoke, hoping her voice sounded calm.

  "I believe you're Lunzie if that's what you mean."

  "It's not, but it'll do. Here he is."

  A silence, then a deep voice that certainly had the expectation of command.

  "This is Admiral Coromell. You're Lieutenant Commander Arly?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Bures handed her the Directory, and she flipped through it. Coromell: tall, silver-haired, bright blue eyes. A handsome man, even approaching old age. He had probably been very handsome when Lunzie knew him before. She wondered whether they'd had anything going, and forced herself to listen to him.

  "As you no doubt realize, the situation is critical. Your captain has disappeared and the local law enforcement agencies were, until a few hours ago, convinced that she had killed me. I've been unable to find out what's going on, and some of my own staff have vanished as well."

  "Sir, I thought the admiral was hunting over on Six. That's what Commander Sassinak was told."

  "I was. I had an urgent message to return, and my return was complicated by Lunzie's . . ."

  A flashing light on the console yanked Arly's attention away from Coromell; the Ssli biolink alarm. Could she interrupt an admiral?

  "Excuse me, sir," she said, as firmly as she could. "Our Ssli has a critical message."

  He didn't quite snort, but the sound he made conveyed irritation barely withheld. "Check it, then."

  Arly touched the controls and the Ssli's message began scrolling across the console's upper screen.

  "Enemy approaching. Seti fleet entering system, down-warping from FTL, expecting assistance in evading detection and system defenses."

  Her hands trembled as she acknowledged that much. The message continued with details of the incoming menace. Number of ships, mass, weapons as known, probable crew and troop levels.

  Bures, craning his neck to read this sideways, let out a long, low whistle. Mayerd, then Currald, joined him, their faces paling as they watched the long lists grow.

  "Commander Arly?" That was the admiral, impatient of the long silence.

  Arly answered, surprised that her voice was steadier than her hands.

  "Sir, our Ssli reports an incoming Seti fleet, definitely hostile." She heard a gasp, but did not stop. "Apparently they've got Insystem help that's supposed to disable some of the system defenses. They're timed to arrive here during the Grand Council session. There's some kind of coup planned." The display had stopped. She tapped in a question to the Ssli, asking for the source of all this.

  "But how do they know?" Coromell asked. The answer came up on the screen even as he asked.

  "Sir, our Ssli says there's a Ssli larva, captive, on the Seti flagship, and a Fleet officer . . . Dupaynil." Her own surprise carried to him.

  "Who's that?"

  "A Fleet Security officer assigned to us a few months ago. Then he was transferred, I think to go look up something in Seti space."

  "Which he quite evidently found. Well, Commander, you have my permission to leave orbit and make life difficult for those Seti ships."

  She opened her mouth to ask what about Sassinak and realized the futility. Even if the captain had been at the shuttle port, they couldn't have waited for her. Not knowing where she was, they certainly couldn't delay.

  "Yes, sir," she said. Then, "Request permission to drop a shuttle and pilot in case Commander Sassinak shows up. She may need it."

  "Granted," he said.

  That was all. She was now more than acting captain: she had command of a warship about to fight an alien fleet. This is impossible, she thought, touching the button that set red lights flashing throughout the ship. She punched the ship's intercom.

  "Ensign Timran to the bridge." And, off intercom, to Bures, "Get one of Sassinak's spare uniforms from her quarters and whatever else she might need. Get it up to Flight Two, fast."

  More orders to give, evicting the Insystem Security monitor teams that had the weapons locked down, to Engineering to bring up the drives.

  "Ensign Timran reporting, ma'am!"

  He was very quick or he'd been lurking in the passage outside. She hoped he would be both quick and lucky with the shuttle.

  "Report to Flight Deck Two. You'll be taking a small unit to the surface."

  The admiral had said nothing about an escort, but whatever had happened to Sassinak, a few Wefts and marines couldn't make things worse. When she looked at Currald he nodded.

  "Ten should do it," he said. "Leave room for her and that Aygar, coming back." He picked up another comset and called his own adjutant.

  "Yes, ma'am!" said Tim, eyes gleaming. "Do I have permission . . . ?"

  "You have permission to do whatever is necessary to assist Commander Sassinak and get her safely offplanet at her command. Bures will have
some things for you to take. Check with him."

  He saluted and was off at a run. She hoped she'd done the right thing. Whatever had happened to Sassinak, if she was still alive, she would think she had a cruiser waiting for her. And now we're leaving—I'm leaving, taking her ship, leaving her nothing but a shuttle.

  Arly couldn't believe this was happening, not so fast, but it was. Through her disbelief, she heard her own voice giving orders in the same calm, steady tone she'd cultivated for years. Longscans on, undocking procedures to begin immediately, two junior Weft officers to report to Flight Two. A loud squawk from the Station Dockmaster, demanding to know why the Zaid-Dayan was beginning undock without permission.

  "Orders of Admiral Coromell," said Arly. Should she tell them about the Seti fleet? "We'll be releasing one planetary shuttle."

  "You can't do that!"

  "We're releasing one planetary shuttle," she went on, as if she had not heard, "and request navigational assistance to clear your Station without damage." She punched the all-ship intercom and said, "Ensign Gori to the bridge."

  "But our scans are showing live weapons . . ."

  That voice abruptly stopped, and an Insystems Security Force uniform appeared on one of the viewscreens.

  "You are in violation of regulations. You are requested to cease and desist, or measures will be taken . . ."

  "Ensign Gori reporting, ma'am."

  Not as quick as Tim, but eager in his own way.

  "Ensign, the cap—Commander Sassinak said you knew regulations forwards and backwards." He didn't answer, but he didn't look worried, either. "You will discuss regulations with Insystems Security. We are withdrawing under threat of enemy attack, at the orders of a higher officer not in our direct chain of command." Gori's face brightened and his mouth opened. Arly pushed him toward one of the working boards, and said, "Don't tell me, tell him."

  Yet another screen showed Flight Two, with the hatch closing on one of the shuttles. As the launch hatch opened, the elevator began raising the shuttle. Arly could just see some part of the Station through the open hatch.

  ". . . no authorization for such deliberate violation," the Insystem voice droned on. "Return to inactive status at once or regulations will require that force be used."

  Arly's temper flared. "You have a hostile Seti fleet incoming," she said slowly, biting off each word, "You have traitors letting them past the defenses. Don't threaten me. So far I haven't hurt the Station."

  Perhaps not all the Insystem Security were in the plot. This one looked as if he'd just been slugged.

  "But . . . but there's no evidence. None of the detector nets have gone off . . ."

  "Maybe someone's got his finger on the buzzer."

  The shuttle cleared the Zaid-Dayan's hull, and disappeared. Arly sent a silent prayer after it.

  "If I were you, I'd start looking at the systems with redundancies."

  By now, the Zaid-Dayan's own powerful scans were unlocked. Nothing would show, yet. The enemy was too far out. Arly glanced around and saw that the regular bridge crew was now in place. It felt very strange to be in Sassinak's place, while Tenant Yulyin sat at "her" board, and stranger to see that board mostly dark, after a ship's alert. She pointed to Gori, who transferred the Insystems Security channel to his board.

  "Ensign Gori will stay in contact with you."

  "Fleet Regulations, Volume 21, article 14, grants authorization to commanding officers of vessels on temporary duty away from normal Sector assignment . . ." Gori sounded confident, and as smooth as any diplomat.

  Arly left him to it. The combination of a surprise Seti fleet and Gori's zeal for regulations should keep trigger-happy fingers off the buttons until they could get away and raise shields.

  "Docking bay secure, Captain!"

  Arly nodded to Engineering. Critical as the situation was, she could not justify destroying the Station to jump-start the Zaid-Dayan and bringing the insystem drive up was a delicate operation. Centimeter by centimeter they eased away from the Station, adding just enough thrust at first to let rotational inertia begin their outward spiral.

  "Weapons still locked down," Yulyin reported, at the two-minute tick.

  "Right. Sassinak and I did some fancy stuff that should unkink by the time we can use them—" She wondered if this Ssli and that distant one were still in contact. And what was Dupaynil doing there? No time for that, though: her weapons had to come first.

  She keyed in the code Sassinak had left with her, the captain's access to the command computers, the master controls of all weaponry. Then she explained what they'd done, and as quickly crew and marines began scurrying around the ship to restore it to full fighting capability. One hundred kilometers from the Station, Arly notched up the insystem drive.

  So far, if the invaders were getting scan on her, she would look predictable. A rising spiral, the usual departure of a large ship from anything as massive as a planet. Then she engaged the stealth gear, and the Zaid-Dayan passed into darkness and silence, an owl hunting across the night.

  FedCentral: Fleet Headquarters

  Coromell swung to face Lunzie, "I never thought of that! My mind must be slowing!"

  "What?" Lunzie hadn't heard what Arly said, had only seen its effect in the changes on Coromell's face.

  "A Seti fleet, inbound—" He told her the rest, and began linking it to what they'd learned elsewhere. "This Iretan thing . . . you must have come very close to the bone somehow."

  "Unless they had it planned and we just showed up in the middle of it."

  "True. I keep forgetting you were sleeping away the past forty-three years. Like a time-bomb for them. Come to think of it, without the Iretan's trial, the Winter Assizes were mostly commercial cases this time. And nothing coming up before Grand Council but a final vote on some financial rules affecting terraforming. Not my field: I don't know a stock from a bond."

  "So if they wanted a quiet session, they could have arranged that . . . and we really are a time-bomb."

  "Which they set for themselves, I remind you. Very fitting, all this is."

  "If they don't blow us away," said Lunzie. "That's not Sassinak up there."

  "She'd have left the ship to her most competent combat officer. The best we can do now is make sure whatever was planned down here doesn't work."

  Lunzie was unconvinced. "But what can one cruiser do against a whole fleet?"

  "Buy us time, if nothing else. Don't worry about what you can't change. What we'll have to do is make sure Insystem has the alarm, and believes it, and get Sassinak out of whatever trap she's in."

  The tiny clinic attached to Fleet Central Systems Command had but one corridor that opened directly into the back offices of the Command building. Lunzie followed Coromell, noticing that the enlisted personnel looked as stunned to see him as he had looked when he heard about the Seti fleet.

  "Sir? When did the Admiral arrive?" asked one, almost but not quite barring the way to the lift marked "Admiral's use only."

  "About thirty hours ago. Apparently our security confused at least a few people," He punched the controls and the lift door sighed open.

  "But, sir, that commander . . . the murder . . ."

  "Put a lock on it, Algin. Who's been speaking for us?"

  "Lt. Commander Dallish, sir. He's up . . ."

  But Coromell had closed the lift door, and now gave Lunzie a rueful smile.

  "I knew that. But he doesn't know that Dallish is the one officer here I really trust. His father and I were close friends, years ago. Dallish has been covering for me."

  "Shouldn't you have stayed under cover longer?"

  "With Sassinak still accused of murdering me? No. Showing up alive should shake them up just as much as you shook the conspirators by waking up in the midst of their plot. Whoever thought he killed me will wonder who the victim was. And whoever sent the victim to take my place will wonder if we're onto him. We soon will be."

  Lunzie found Coromell's office a relief after the pastel-walled,
determinedly soothing atmosphere of the clinic suite. A great arc of desk took the place of the command module onboard a ship. He grinned when he saw her expression.

  "Yes, it's an indulgence. But one which keeps me thinking like a deepspace admiral, and not a planet-dweller."

  A younger man, whom Lunzie assumed was "Dallish," stood aside as they entered, then handed Coromell a sheaf of thin plastic strips. One wall had a window looking out across the city—Lunzie's first live view of the hub of interplanetary government. It looked, to her, like any other large city. Below, a broad street had both slideways and vehicular traffic: bright blue and green monorail trains. She glanced around Coromell's office again. The dark-blue flat-piled carpet that seemed to be favored by Fleet officers, a bank of viewscreens on the opposite wall, racks of datacubes, fichefiles, even a row of books bound in plain blue.

  "Lunzie!"

  She looked away from a row of exquisitely detailed model ships, displayed against a painted starscape. Coromell and Dallish had tuned in one of the civilian news programs, now showing a view that Lunzie realized was the docking tube of a ship at Station. At first she did not hear whatever the news commentator was saying. Over the tube, the electronic display had gone from green to orange; the ship's name Zaid-Dayan and status "Undock: Warning" blinked on and off.

  A commentator stepped in front of the vicam, and Lunzie made herself listen to the sleek-haired woman with the professional frown.

  "Most unusual behavior has prompted some to suggest that the missing captain of this dangerous ship may have been contaminated with a psychoactive agent, even a disease which has spread to crewmembers. We have just been informed that the Insystem Federation Security teams whose duty it is to ensure that these warships cannot fire their weapons at innocent civilians, these teams are being evicted from this ship. Even now," and the commentator's head turned slightly so that Lunzie could see out-of-focus movement behind her, up the tube toward the ship. "I believe, yes, here they are, quite against their will . . ."

  Hands on heads, the men and women clumping down the length of the tube looked unhappy enough. Behind them were figures in ominous gray and green armor, helmets locked down, and very impressive-looking weapons in hand.