"According to my source, she took an unauthorized space-walk and entered the station through an emergency repair hatch."
"That's it?'
"That's it," Silken shrugged, grinning delightedly. "Now, here's my idea. What you could do, is, buy up her debt to New Destinies and offer her the opportunity to work it off."
"You think this paragon will go for that?" Nomik raised an eyebrow. "What about that pristine reputation?'
"I think she'll go for it. She's sure to lose her ship if she doesn't and then what good will her reputation do her? Believe me Mik, she'll repay that debt almost double before she's free. Just keep it light until she's in too deep to turn back. After that, who else is going to ship with her but you?"
"You're always thinking of me aren't you, Silky?" He kissed her and gave her a squeeze.
"Mmm hmm. She'll be with us in a day or so and you can check her out for yourself."
"Why don't I check you out just one more time?" he asked. "Make sure you got home in one piece."
Silken giggled as he rose over her.
The Wyal dropped into normal space. Joat blinked at the scanners. For a moment she thought that transition stress had finally gotten to her after all these years.
"There's nothing here!" she said.
"Correction: interstellar gas and micrometeorites," Rand's voice said. "And an F-class star three-point-seven parsecs to the galactic northwest."
"Identify yourself."
Alvec pointed silently to the screens. A ship had been waiting, stealthed, engines on minimal standby to reduce the neutrino signatures of the powerplant. Now it was coming online. Joat glanced at the data. Nothing standard, not a Central Worlds signature, but the emissions were enough for a very large merchantman… or a light cruiser.
Kolnari? she thought. The tiny hairs along her spine crinkled erect in atavistic reflex.
"I have visual," Joseph said from the navigator's seat. His voice relaxed from tightly controlled fear to mere tension. "Not Kolnari, I think."
"Guardship," Alvec said.
The image on the screen was the conventional cylinder-and-globe of interstellar ships not meant to transit atmosphere, but with a hacked and haggled look.
Rand spoke. "A modified fast freight carrier," it said. "Mass reduced to increase delta-v. Shield generators, lasers, particle beam weapons, and missile launchers here-" a dot appeared on the image "-here, here. A more precise estimation of capabilities is impossible without information on the craft's computer installations."
Joat pursed her lips. "Highly illegal setup," she said. "And why didn't Silken-" that lying bitch "-give me the right coordinates?"
Alvec cleared his throat. "They always do this, Rohan does. Gives 'em a chance to make sure you're not a ringer for the Fleet."
"You knew about this arrangement?" she accused, unmollified.
"Yeah, well… yuh. Been around here, oh, a while back…"
Joat glared at him. Al was their pilot just now, and he didn't look up from his screens. Ask no awkward questions, get no fibs. "So, you know anything about Rohan itself?"
"It's a big moon," he said. "Big enough to hold atmosphere if it had one. Be a nice, livable planet if they terraformed it. Cold, though, a long way from the primary."
"Why have they not done so?" Joseph asked.
Alvec laughed. "They're pirates, folks. Building things isn't their strong suit; besides, keeping habitation restricted makes it easier to control traffic. That's why Yoered Family picked a moon in the first place."
"Wait a minute," Joat said. "The Yoered Family runs Rohan?"
"Yup."
"Then why would they give Ciety a base there? He's their competition."
"They've gotten a little fat and lazy, from what I hear. They let the freelancers do the scut work, and rake a percentage off the top-plus selling information, repairs and stuff, all at fantastic markups." He looked over at Joat. "You can probably fool around with Nomik Ciety, Boss, but whatever you do, don't mess with the Family. They're way too powerful and they have zero patience."
Joat grinned, a wolfish expression. "And I bet they have no sense of humor."
"I wish I could say yes to that," Al said with a sigh.
"Attention Wyal. Stand by for transition, microjump-slave your control system to ours for approach."
Rand maintained an injured silence. "Do it," Joat ordered. "It's only for a couple of minutes."
"How would you like to turn over control of your legs and arms for a few minutes?" the AI asked.
"Gruddy. I managed to write a program that can be sarcastic."
Eglund was visible in the viewscreen and she keyed it to a higher magnification. A bright disk sprang into view, blazing against the velvet-black of space with the gem-clear blue of an aquamarine.
"There's a thick haze of hydrogen-methane atmosphere," Rand said. "That accounts for the blue coloration."
"A lovely color," Joseph added.
"How many moons?" Joat said.
"Seven that I can detect, not counting planitesimals," Rand said. "Several are water-ice, one is mostly sulfur compounds. The others are rocky; the largest is approximately Mars-sized."
Odd, Joat thought. None of them had ever been to Terra, but humanity still used the original system for comparisons.
Rohan swung into view. A yellow-gray dust speck against the great jeweled surface below, trailing swiftly above clouds and storms vaster than worlds. Closer, it became the size of a tennis ball, tiny and sharp-edged. Dendritic patterns of craters, paler flatlands-no significant atmosphere, then.
Joat swallowed and rubbed her palms against the legs of her coverall. Nomik. The knowledge lay in her mind the way a stodgy dinner did in the stomach, making her thoughts feel logy and slow. Too much conflict, too many warring fears, hatreds, needs… memories.
And I'm holding things back, she thought, glancing at her friends. It's not fair to them, I should tell them everything. She knew that, but her mind refused to process the data; her mouth could not speak the words.
This is a lousy time to suddenly need psychotherapy, Joat thought sourly.
"Attention." The voice of the escort vessel broke in. "Relinquishing control. Enjoy your stay."
"Sarcastic nuddling," Joat muttered. She locked the restraints around herself and lowered her hands to the controls. "I'm taking her in."
She ignored Alvec's surprise and Rand's silence. This was something she could control.
The main dome of Rohan roofed over a crater a kilometer and a half in diameter; she could see through the transparent cover, down to the surface. Most of it was open space, vaguely seen greenery and trees, small lakes-sensible, not to waste open breathable space on buildings. Those would be under the crater's surface, or burrowed into the mountains on either side. The cruel peaks slid upward on either side as the Wyal descended, jagged against Eglund's brightness. Banded patterns of shadow and colored light slid across the empty wastes of rock, down into the pulsing strobes of the landing field. The ship slid into its cradle like a hand into a glove, only the faintest ringing tock of sound as contact was made. Almost immediately it began to move, trundling them to a docking ring in the side of the great dome.
Nowhere else did they have this system of hauling ships to and from the landing/launch pad. Only the Family would have felt it worth the enormous expense. By crowding ships together around the station's rim, they made it too dangerous to launch independently; insuring total Family control of arrivals and departures.