So, agent or not, she was probably telling the truth about Remor.
The only recal stop they had to make was in an uninhabited system, and went smoothly.
Just before they emerged into the Remor system, Var gathered the crew, and reminded them of the necessity to resume their non-military personas. He issued Rom Reffel a concealable needler, and took one himself. Lady Jane stiffened and reddened at this reminder.
His preparations proved unnecessary. They were not challenged, and when they got close enough to the planet to hail Remor Control, they got a surprise.
“Remor control to Empire Diplomatic vessel Starhopper,” the youngish man in the viewscreen began. “We’ve been expecting you. The Empire ambassador has asked us to relay the following orders: you are not to approach the orbital station. Instead, you are to match orbits 500 kilometers behind the station, and stand by for orders from the embassy.” He paused. “The embassy is being notified of your arrival as we speak. Maneuvering vectors to your orbit are…” He ran off a string of numbers.
“ Starhopper to Remor Control,” Var replied. “We understand and will comply. Do we have clearance for maneuvering?”
“Wait one, Starhopper.” The man paused again and looked off-screen, evidently at someone talking to him. He turned back. “I’ve just been told that the Embassy has been informed of your arrival. You are cleared to assume orbit.” The screen blanked.
Var stared at the darkened screen. After a moment he turned to Lady Jane. “I assume this is not a normal procedure,” he said. Her eyes were wide. “It sure isn’t!” she replied. “I’ve never heard of any ship not docking at the orbital station. Your ambassador must’ve been pulling some big strings.”
He slowly stood. “Commander Reffel,” he said, “Please assume the indicated orbit. I wish they’d given us an idea how long we’ll have to wait.”
“Probably not long, sir,” Rom replied. “If they’ve been waiting for us and making these kinds of preparations, something’s up. Remember, we weren’t even supposed to come here. This was a secondary contact in case we couldn’t use To-Han.”
Var looked thoughtful. “You’re right, Commander. Something is up. Something tells me our mission just became even more complicated.”
It was some five hours later that Edro reported a small ship departing the orbital station and headed for their position. “ID says it’s a diplomatic yacht, Captain,” he added.
The yacht refused communication and merely matched Starhopper ’s orbit, some ten meters off her port bow. Var, who’d been waiting by the passenger hatch with Rom, was annoyed when Edro called him back to the bridge. “She’s not linking up, sir,” Edro reported. “She’s just hanging there.”
Var emerged on the bridge, cursing, just as Edro reported the yacht had established a com laser link. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant whoever was on the yacht was insisting on totally secure communications. Why the devil didn’t whoever it was just come aboard?
Fuming, he plopped down in front of the viewscreen. He straightened as he realized the elderly man in the screen wore the dress uniform of a Fleet Captain.
“I’m Captain Tan Ro-Ligon,” the man began. “Military Attache to the Empire Embassy on Remor. Please identify yourself.”
“Commander Var Ler-Traken, sir,” Var responded crisply. “Commanding Starhopper.”
Ro-Ligon scowled. “I rather expected Commodore Preslin to be in command,” he began. “I assume the fact that he sent you means that your mission was successful and you’ve found Vir Rekesh.”
“Yes, sir,” Var replied. “The medical team has come up with a cure for the plague, and the Commodore’s reactivation team is preparing her for her return to the Empire. He expects her to be at least marginally operational by the time we return. I was directed to notify the embassy, so the diplomatic staff could begin getting us clearances.”
The man on the screen reddened and fidgeted. He seemed embarrassed! “Err, yes. Well, Commander, there have been developments, and your mission is no longer so simple.” The man stared into the screen with the manner of a man bracing himself to deliver bad news. “That’s why this infernal nonsense is necessary.” He waved a hand to vaguely indicate the entire situation. “Stand by to receive classified directives,” Ro-Ligon ordered. Then his image disappeared, replaced by blankness, and a prolonged screech told Var they were receiving compressed data. A glance at Edro confirmed that he was recording it.
The screech went on and on, lasting more than ten seconds; evidently they were being fed a lot of data. Finally, the screech cut off, and Captain Ro-Ligon’s image reappeared.
The old Captain looked like a judge delivering a death sentence. “You’ll get the details from the directives you’ve just received,” the man began, “But I’ll give you your immediate orders.
“No one is to embark or disembark from your vessel, Captain,” he began. “Nor are you to ground on any inhabited planet. No one on your ship or Vir Rekesh is to have physical contact of any kind with anyone not presently aboard those ships.”
“Uh, sir,” Var interrupted, “I have two civilians aboard. Alliance citizens. The Commodore directed me to disembark them here. I was planning to turn them over to you.”
Ro-Ligon frowned. “Civilians? Alliance citizens?” He sighed in exasperation. “Is nothing ever simple with Kas Preslin? Who are they? Bring them to the bridge.”
“They’re here, sir.” Var stepped aside, and Lady Jane and Lar Tennig stepped in front of the pickup.
The old Captain frowned. “Who are you, young mistress?”
Lady Jane put on her brightest smile. “I’m Captain Jane Grey of the trader Lady Jane,” She replied. “This is my friend and crewman Lar Tennig.”
The man’s frown deepened. “Traders, eh? Alliance citizens, y’say?”
“Yes and Yes. Commodore Preslin rescued us from an attack by a Glory corvette. We’ve been assisting him as much as possible, but now you’ve got your damned ship back and we’re ready to get back to business.”
Ro-Ligon shook his head. “Amazing. Leave it to Preslin to find a good-looking woman, even in the middle of a secret mission!” He sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry, young mistress. It will not be possible to repatriate you or your companion, at least not in the near future.
“Unfortunately, the orders you heard me give Captain Ler-Traken are direct from Fleet Headquarters on Prime. I have no authority to deviate from them.”
Lady Jane frowned. “Sir, I protest. And I demand to be permitted to contact Alliance diplomatic personnel immediately!”
Ro-Ligon shook his head in denial. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid. We will notify the Alliance embassy immediately of your whereabouts and present status.” His lined face hardened with determination. “But no one will be permitted to leave that ship for any reason. Again, I’m sorry.” He straightened. “Captain Ler-Traken?”
“Here, sir.” Var nudged the civilians aside and resumed his seat in front of the pickup.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Ro-Ligon resumed. “You are to treat your Alliance guests with all possible respect and consideration. But under no circumstances are they to be permitted to contact Alliance authorities.
“Now,” he continued. “I repeat: there is to be no physical contact of any sort between the people aboard your two ships and anyone not presently aboard one of those ships.
“You are to boost out immediately at max possible delta-vee, and return to Commodore Preslin. You will deliver to him the directives that have just been provided to you. Those directives contain all the information he will need to complete his mission.”
“Sir,” Var said urgently, “Will we rendezvous with reinforcements from the Empire?”
Ro-Ligon frowned. “Reinforcements? Don’t be ridiculous. Even an outie like Preslin should be able to defend himself with a fully armed battle cruiser!”