Fronel grinned. “There is always that, Commodore, there is always that.”
“And, if within my power, I’ll see you put down on Lormar.”
“Thank you, Commodore.”
The chimes sounded and Taglini bade the messenger enter. He read the message stick thoughtfully. “Well, Captain, it seems that I have an invitation to a strategy meeting. Vice Admiral Knerden’s compliments. Perhaps I’ll have news for you soon.” He stood and placed his peaked cap on his head.
“See if you can get repairs speeded up a bit, Captain. Fren knows, I don’t want to be caught attached to a Prime station.”
* * *
“Gentlemen, Ladies, I’m pleased you could make it on such short notice.” Vice Admiral Knerden looked fresh and invigorated. “I’d like you to meet Rear Admiral Cenet. I have turned command of Tenth Fleet over to him. I’ve received orders recalling me to First Fleet. We are going to take on the enemy and give him a black eye!” If he had expected a cheer, he had been mistaken. He looked around at the assembled Commodores. “Starburst and her two attendant frigates come with me. Honor and her two remain with Rear Admiral Cenet.”
The Vice Admiral glanced at the time and smiled his usual dazzling smile. “We’ll meet again soon and, Fren willing, have a victory to discuss. Gentlemen, ladies.” He strode from the conference room without a backward glance.
Rear Admiral Cenet stood, as tall and thin a man as Taglini had ever seen. He appeared almost skeletal. His narrow face, close-set eyes and beak of a nose gave him the aspect of a bird of prey—or perhaps a scavenger.
“Well, let’s get to it. We have orders to protect Lormar and to bring back those who will be in harm’s way, before the Tlartox get to them. We must evacuate the miners to the Primes and thence to the interior of the Confederation.” He looked down at his reader for a moment before looking up again. “Commodore Taglini, how is Tempest?”
“Ready in a day or two, depending on how terrified of Captain Fronel the workers become.”
Cenet gave him a thin smile. “Good. As soon as she’s ready, your squadron will escort three small liners to the Tridex Asteroid Mining Consortium in the Pensor system and evacuate the miners. No need to leave them to mine for the Tlartox Empire.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Commodore Prusnol.”
“Rear Admiral.”
“A quick trip for you out to the Trencher system. Same as Commodore Taglini. Bring out the people. Quick as possible. I don’t see us as having much time to spare.” He went over other assignments. Returning raiders from Tenth Fleet would be pressed into guard duty. He paused to allow some discussion.
The officers talked among themselves.
“Now, Gentlemen, Ladies,” Cenet waited for silence to fall. “Failing First Fleet’s attempts to slow down the Tlartox Fleet appreciably, we will then begin evacuating the four Primes. Already, excess personnel have relocation orders.” The room buzzed; Cenet had made it official.
“I don’t like this any more than you. Barring heavy reinforcements, we have no other choice.”
“We could fight, Rear Admiral.”
“Aye, Commodore Prusnol, we could fight. It would be, however, a short battle and nothing significant would change.”
“At least they’d know we tried,” Taglini put in, glancing out the port to the planet below.
Cenet followed his gaze, looking very tired. “Yes, at least they’d know that.” He dismissed the meeting.
CHAPTER 18
SEARCHER
Weytok looked up at the Britlot from her post. He hadn’t spoken an unnecessary word in days. The crew picked up the tension and tempers frayed. No good ever came of a Captain and his officers not speaking to each other. And no one knew the situation in the Confederation.
On top of that, the only message received ordered them to set course for Lormar, maintaining comm silence.
“Gentlemen, Ladies,” Britlot’s voice came over the ISB, “we are about to drop at Lormar’s emergence beacon. No one will discuss our voyage until after debriefing.”
As he’d told no one except Lieutenant Weytok how he’d declined to ask for aid of the 22nd, no one could say much about their mission. However, he’d made it quite clear that merely revealing the existence of Adia might bring the Tlartox Fleet down upon their new friends—if they could be called friends. Despite the Adians’ trickery, no one on the crew wanted to see harm come to Adia.
“Four nines, Captain,” Sub-Lieutenant Krirtol reported.
“Very good, Sub. Send emergence signal and then drop.”
The emergence signal would warn those in normal space of the dropping vessel and anyone in the drop zone could signal warning to the beacon in return. Also, given the situation, dropping unannounced could produce a spectacular but lethal response. Lieutenant-Commander Britlot did not want his voyage to end quite that way.
The view on the monitors wavered and then steadied. They were back.
“Captain. Signal to dock at Prime Station Alpha.”
“Acknowledge, Dhine.”
“Aye, sir. Signal acknowledged. Docking instructions inputted to the navcomp.”
Searcher accelerated slowly and moved past the three old Class-C frigates stationed near the beacon. They might be old, thought Britlot, but they had more than enough firepower to fry his scoutship.
“Sir, message coming in.”
“Route it to the screen.”
“Good day, Lieutenant-Commander Britlot.” He did not recognize the face, but he could not mistake the uniform insignia of a full Commander. “Please stop your vessel relative Alpha and prepare to be boarded.”
“Boarded, sir?” What was this?
“Aye, Lieutenant-Commander, boarded.”
Britlot raised an eyebrow but gave the commands. “Searcher is stopped relative Alpha, sir. We are ready for boarding.” Already a shuttle had appeared on the monitors.
“What is this, sir?” Spacer Dorvon wanted to know.
“I have no idea, Spacer. I suspect we will find out. Sub-Lieutenant, you and Spacer Dorvon will come with me to greet our visitors. Lieutenant, you have the con.”
“Side arms, sir?” Dorvon asked.
“I think that would be an error in judgment, Spacer. As far as they are concerned we’ve been missing for several months. Situation as it is, they might take our being armed for something quite different than it is.” Britlot led the two through the ship to the docking airlock.
As with Winter Sky’s boarding party, this one began with two armed marines coming through the airlock, weapons at the ready. As soon as they ascertained that all was clear a Confederation Commander came through and saluted. Several more men followed him. Britlot could feel waves of distrust coming from the boarding party.
Deja vu, Britlot thought wearily.
“Welcome aboard Searcher, sir. I am Lieutenant-Commander Britlot. This is Sub-Lieutenant Krirtol and Gunnery Spacer Dorvon.”
“Commander Vertol, Security. You will gather your crew together on the mess deck and then you and I will go to the bridge and you will open your logbook for me, Captain.”
Lieutenant-Commander Britlot let out a heavy sigh and turned to the comm station and gave the necessary orders to the bridge.
“Here we go again,” Dorvon muttered as he stepped past his Captain and led the boarding party to the mess deck.
“What was that?” Commander Vertol asked.
“An in-joke, Commander,” Britlot told him, refusing to say anything further. He led the Security officer and two of his men to the bridge where Lieutenant Weytok waited.
“Now open your Log for inspection, Captain.”
“I regret that I cannot comply with that instruction, Commander. The Log is sealed.” He winced inwardly as anger bloomed in the Commander’s eyes. Not wanting to make an enemy of a Commander in Security, Britlot strove to maintain his own temper.
“You’d best explain yourself, Lieutenant-Commander.”
His anger showed in hi
s failure to address the ranking officer of a ship by the honorific ‘Captain’.
“Of course, Commander.” Britlot turned on the charm. “As Captain of the Searcher, I entered information in the Log which I have since classified as Most Secret. I have returned from a mission, and I expect to be debriefed by Intelligence. If Intelligence decides that my classification was in error, I would be more than happy to have you aboard for drinks and tell you the whole story. You have your duty, Commander. Unfortunately my duty conflicts with yours. When Commodore Taglini sent me out, he—”
“Commodore ‘Tag’ Taglini?”
“Yes, the Commanding Officer of Spacedock Bravo II.”
“Not any more. He’s Commodore of the squadron which shot up Tlenfro Base.”
The Commander’s ire seemed to drain. Helped to have friends in high places, Britlot thought irreverently.
“Lieutenant,” Vertol spoke to his aide, “put through a call to Tempest. See if we can get the Commodore.”
Two minutes later Taglini’s face appeared on the screen.
“Lieutenant-Commander Britlot! I’d given you up for dead some months ago. How are you?”
“Fine, sir. We ran into The Phenomenon and couldn’t establish comm. We tried many times. Nothing came through?”
“Nothing. Tell me, how was your ghost hunt?”
“It wasn’t.”
Taglini leaned forward and peered into the screen. His eyes sharpened. “Commander ... Vertol?”
“Sir?”
“Once your search is complete, I’d appreciate it if you would escort the Captain to me. Make sure he brings his Logs.”
“Aye, sir. I’m supposed to inspect them, sir, but he says they are sealed.”
“Does he? Then keep them sealed, Commander. And, as a favor to me, I’d appreciate it if you told no one of the sealed Logs.”
“Aye, sir.”
Taglini’s face disappeared. Vertol turned to Britlot. “My apologies, Captain.”
“Apologies, sir? For doing your duty? Speaking of your duties, how may I aid you in carrying out the rest of them?” He smiled the famous Britlot smile.
TLARTOX HOME PLANET
They had moved again. The hunters had once more found their safe house. Vom looked at Tlantho. She looked exhausted. He bared his teeth. He felt the same. They were all tired. From the window he watched a shuttle take off from the spaceport and wondered if it carried Shads.
“Something interesting, Master?” Tlantho asked, coming to stand beside him.
“No, Tlantho, just a shuttle. I was wishing I could be on it. Perhaps I’m just tired.” No need for her to know about Shads’ recall to duty. Better no one knew.
“I’ve received a message from Grinnser.”
“Yes?”
“Only one word, Master. ‘Confirmed’. What does that mean?” She looked at him curiously and Vom felt for her. To be able to read all the messages without understanding them must be a real pain. Still, she bore it well.
He slowly moved to a chair and sat down, gesturing her to do the same. “It means, Tlantho, that our work hasn’t been just an exercise.”
She waited for him to be more forthcoming, but he closed his eyes and began breathing deeply and evenly. She rose quietly and made her way out of the room. Vom opened his eyes again. Shads would get the word, he was sure. Tlomega had no intention of stopping at Lormar. Everything was in place, and the signals had been sent.
Their job was done—for the moment. Now they merely had to avoid the Hunters.
CHAPTER 19
LORMAR PRIME STATION ALPHA
“Lieutenant-Commander Britlot, welcome back.”
“Thank you, Commodore, it’s good to be back.”
Taglini closed the door and waved Britlot to a chair, as he took his own. “So, tell me, Mart, what did you find that required you to seal your Logs?” Taglini had decided to discover for himself if Britlot’s mission should go to Intelligence.
Britlot sat. He looked across the desk at the Commodore. “We found Adia, sir. Apparently the Phenomenon only destroyed a small fraction of the Émigré’s ships. The rest made planetfall and Adia—and the 22nd—still exists.”
“My god!” Taglini groped for words. “I would never have believed ...” He broke off, speculating. “You must have relayed our situation.”
“Aye, sir, I did. I fear we can expect no help from that direction.”
“They refused?” Taglini didn’t seem surprised.
“No, sir. I withdrew the request.” That did surprise Taglini.
“Sir,” Britlot explained, “they’ve been at peace since they left the Confederation. The present Adian Navy is the same 22nd which left here three hundred years ago. They’ve not built a new naval vessel in three centuries.”
Taglini slumped slightly. “You did right,” he admitted. “After what has happened to our Class-B and Class-C recommissions, I wouldn’t want the old 22nd on my conscience, either.” He rose, opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.
“Confusion to the enemy,” Britlot toasted.
“Aye, confusion to the enemy,” Taglini repeated. “We need all the help we can get.” The words had become a standard part of the toast. “Now, Mart, tell me about your voyage. Don’t leave anything out.”
Two hours later, Britlot was able to get in his own question. “Sir, we’ve not had any news from the Confederation in months, what’s happening? The Adians told us that the Tlartox Empire had begun its attack, but that’s all I know.”
“Perhaps you are lucky.” Taglini remained staring at the image of Winter Sky on the screen. “Amazing. They still exist. Ah, but where was I? Oh, yes. Our little war goes badly. We have orders to evacuate the four Primes of Lormar in anticipation of Tlartox conquest.” Britlot paled. “Fleet Headquarters has already relocated to Krevost. Lormar is in turmoil, feeling that we are abandoning them—which we are. Anyone in a Fleet uniform is likely to be in danger of his or her life if caught in public.
“First Fleet prepares to engage the Tlartox Fleet in combat. The enemy is advancing much more rapidly than we had anticipated. And tomorrow I will be leaving with my squadron to evacuate the Tridex Asteroid miners.” He shrugged his shoulders eloquently. “Anything else you need know?”
Britlot sat in shocked silence. “Where does Searcher fit in now?” he asked.
“Good question. Since she is officially off the books, I believe that it wouldn’t take much to place you in Tenth Fleet. Fren knows, we could use you. Come, we’ll pay the Rear Admiral a visit.” He stood and walked with Britlot down the long passageways. A couple of people looked at them curiously.
“Mart, I think you should maintain silence on the Adian question. Rumors will get out, and that may help us. Openness at this time will do us no good and possibly even reduce morale. We’ll get the Rear Admiral’s view.”
Rear Admiral Cenet agreed. “Good to have you with us, Lieutenant-Commander. Sorry we can’t give your crew leave, but we need every ship we have. We have particular need of modern detectors, and I consider Searcher a gift from the gods.”
The chimes rang, and a harried looking Signals Lieutenant rushed in and presented the Rear Admiral with a stick. He appeared very relieved when dismissed. Obviously bad news.
“Might as well stay and watch,” Cenet told the two officers. “You’ll hear it soon enough anyway.” He placed the stick in a reader. The screen came to life, showing a white-faced captain.
“It was a trap,” he blurted out. “First Fleet dropped and engaged the enemy squadrons. Then a whole Tlartox fleet dropped on top of us. Two cruisers declared themselves out of action. At least two frigates have been destroyed. That’s all I saw before my squadron received the emergency jump order and jumped. Tlartox ships are following us in hyperspace and I don’t know if we can evade them and reassemble.”
The message ended at that point.
“I’ve been receiving a fair few similar messages. First Fleet has scattered.” He gave a low sigh. “Comm
odore, I fear that we have even less time than we’d counted on. The faster you get to the Tridex Asteroids, the better. Leave at once.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And don’t let them delay boarding the liners. Essentials only. We don’t have time to move furniture.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
“Lieutenant-Commander, how soon can you have Searcher ready to go?”
“Given the situation, sir, immediately. We are very low on supplies, but we can be back in hyperspace within an hour, if necessary.”
Rear Admiral Cenet laughed. “We’re not quite so desperate, yet. You have twelve hours.” He walked Britlot over to the star-holo. “I want you patrolling this sector of Hyperspace. Tenth Fleet has orders to protect the Primes until they can be evacuated. We need to know if anything moves our way.
“All we have are the cruiser Honor and two modern frigates. Nothing else has state-of-the-art detectors—except Searcher, which is now the most modern, fastest and best-equipped ship in the fleet. Honor will remain in-system. The two frigates are already on patrol. You will join them.”
“Aye, sir.”
Britlot bullied Supply into quickly replenishing the necessaries upon Searcher, and sweet-talked Ordinance into providing the scoutship with four Type 60 torpedoes. Ordinance had not wanted to part with them. “What good will they do on Prime Alpha,” he had finally asked, “when the Tlartox get here? You won’t have time to resupply the Fleet during an all-out battle.” Ordinance gave in.
“Lieutenant Weytok, prepare Searcher for patrol. We go to Hyperspace in ten hours. Call an all-crew meeting for ten minutes from now.”
Weytok raised her eyebrows, but complied without asking questions. She had been upset that the entire crew had been forced to stay on board Searcher while Britlot had made his report.
“Gentlemen, Ladies. Sitrep: They need us. The Tlartox are coming, First Fleet has scattered and there isn’t another fleet in this sector, excepting what you’ve seen here.”
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