“Estimated time to launch and engagement?” Sassinak looked at Hollister.
“If they’re really battle-ready, they can launch in an hour, maybe two. Nobody keeps those babies really ready-to-launch: you boil off too much propellant. Most of the time they like to fight from a high orbit, or satellite transit path, in systems like this with moons. I’d say a minimum of ninety standard minutes, from the alarm… but will we pick up their signals?”
“We’d better. What about larger ships?”
‘There’s something like the slaver escort, but it’s cold… no signs of activity at all. More than two hours to launch - at least five, I’d say. But it’s still twenty-three standard hours before the incoming ships arrive, if they hold their same trajectory and use the most economical deceleration schedule. We may see more activity as they get closer.”
But except for brief transmissions every four hours, between the incoming ships and the base, little happened that they could detect from space. Sassinak insisted on regular shift changes, and rest for those off-duty. She followed her own orders to the extent of taking a couple of four-hour naps.
Then the ships neared. For the first time, they drifted apart; the escort, Sassinak realized, was taking up an orbit around the outermost moon, alert for anything following them or entering the system. The slave-carrying trader began braking in a long descending spiral.
Taking the chance that the attention of the base below would be fixed on the incoming slaver, and the attention of the escort ship above on anything “behind” them, Sassinak ordered the Zaid-Dayan’s insystem drive into action: they would ease out of the ring-belt, and intercept the slaver on the blind side of the planet, out of sight/detection of the escort.
All stations were manned with backup crews standing by. Sassinak glanced around the bridge, seeing the same determination on every face.
One of the lights on Arly’s panel suddenly flashed red, and a shrill piping overrode conversation. She slammed a fist down on the panel, and shot a furious glance around her section, then to Sass.
“It’s a missile - Captain, I didn’t launch that!”
“Then who -?” But the faces that stared back at her, now taut and pale, had no answer.Yes, we do have a saboteur on board, Sassinak thought, then automatically gave the orders that responded to this new threat. All firing systems locked into bridge control, automatic partitioning of the ship, computer control of all access to bridge… and the fastest maneuver possible, to remove them from the back-trail of that missile.
“They know something’s here, and they know it’s armed - so if we want to save those kids on the slaver, we’d better do it fast.”
Red lights winked on displays around the bridge, scans picking up enemy activity, from communications to missile launch.
“Oh, brillig! Of course they saw it, and just what we need -!” Huron gave her an uneasy glance, and she grinned at him. “But life is risky, eh? If we go for their armed ships, we’ll lose the kids for sure, and if that slaver has any sense and a peashooter, it could plug us in the rear. So - “ TheZaid-Dayan surged, suddenly freed of its stealth constraints, and closed on the slaver. They were just over the limb, out of line-of-sight from both the escort and the base below, although the missiles launched would be a factor in a few minutes. The slaver vessel, cut off from radio communication with its base, could have chosen to boost away from the planet, or try a faster descent… but whether in confusion or resignation did neither. Nor did it fire on them. “Huron!” He looked up from his own console, when Sassinak called. “You take the boarding party - get that ship out of here, safely into the next sector. I’ll give you Parrsit: he’s good in a row, and Currald’s sending half our ground contingent - “ She quickly named the other boarding party members. Huron frowned when she named the two Wefts.
“Captain - “
“Don’t argue now, Huron. Wait ‘til they’ve shown you - you need both the heavy-world muscle and Weft ability. Get ready - “ Huron saluted, and left the bridge. Sassinak waited for the boarding party’s report: the marines had already donned their battle armor, but the crew that would take the trader on had to get into EVA suits and armor. Seconds passed; the ships closed. When the forward docking bay signalled green, Sassinak nodded to the helmsman. “Screens open to code, tractor field on - “ Now the screen showed a computer-enhanced visual of the fat-bellied trader vessel, within easy EVA range. It attempted a belated burn, but the shields absorbed the energy, and the tractor field held it, dragged it nearer. The boarding party, clustered in assault pods whose nav codes overrode the tractor, blew an airlock and started in.
The fight for the slaver was short and bitter: once inside the lock, the boarding party found well-armed and desperate slavers who fought hand-to-hand in the passages, between decks, and finally on the bridge. The marines lost five, when a passage they thought they’d cleared erupted behind them in a last desperate flurry of fighting. Sassinak followed the marine officer’s comments on her headset, wincing at the losses. Slavers were dangerous: they knew they faced mindwipe if they were taken alive. You had to check every hole and corner. But she could do nothing from theZaid-Dayan, and she could not leave her ship. The last thing the marines needed was her scolding them over the radio. Deck by deck the marines reported the ship safe; in the background Sassinak could hear hysterical screams which she assumed must be the prisoners.
Finally a very out-of-breath Huron called to report success, and admitted that the Wefts were “more than impressive.” The trader had, he said, adequate fuel, air, and supplies for a shortest-route journey to the nearest plotted station, but he wouldn’t be able to use the ship’s maximum insystem capabilities because of the captives, some seven to eight hundred of them.
“They’re not in good shape, and they’re half-wild with panic and excitement. They don’t know a thing about ship discipline; there aren’t any acceleration barriers, and this thing doesn’t have a zero-inertia converter. I’d pile ‘em all up along the bulkheads like fruit in a dropped crate - “
“All right. We’ll shield you. Just get out as quick as you can, and if you do jink, be sure we know ahead of time.”
“I can’t jink in this junk,” said Huron, quick-tongued as ever, even in a crisis. “I’ll be lucky to jump in it. And the nav computer is a joke.”
“That we can help,” she said. “What’s your cleanest comm link?” When he told her, she had her communications specialists patch a direct line from theZaid-Dayan’s navigation computer to the slaver’s. Now Huron could keep track of the various incoming threats, and have a chance to evade them.
“Take care,” she said. She wished she’d said it before he left; she wished they’d had time for a real farewell. His face in the vidscreen already looked different, the face of a fellow captain… she saw him turn as one of his crew - no longer hers - asked a question.
“You, too,” he said, his expression showing that his thoughts ran with hers, as they did so often. She wanted to touch his hand, his shoulder, wanted a last feel of his body against hers. But it was too late: he was captain of a very vulnerable ship, and she was captain of a Fleet cruiser - and even if they met again, it would be a different meeting. Sassinak looked around the bridge at a very sober crew. Fighting off a single enemy was one problem - keeping several enemies from blowing an unarmed transport with limited maneuvering capability was another. They all realized that the pirates would be perfectly happy to lose that ship - the evidence of their crimes. Now that lost ship would include loss of Fleet personnel as well - their own friends and shipmates.