She smiled. Sneaking into someone else's star system, even when that someone else was limited to Silly sensor systems, was always a challenge. Of course, it was the sort of challenge Ferrero enjoyed, not to mention being an excellent training opportunity. That hadn't made it any easier, however, and she'd been just a bit surprised by how spoiled she'd become since FTL sensor arrays had become available. She missed the continually updated reports from the perimeter arrays she would normally have deployed. Their absence made her feel...exposed. As if someone who was supposed to be watching her back wasn't.
She wondered if she would have felt happier if the new patrol patterns Duchess Harrington was instituting had been fully in place and Jessica Epps had been paired off with another RMN vessel. She probably would have, she decided. And the availability of a consort would have given her much more flexibility in her stalk of the slaver. Of the probable slaver, she corrected herself conscientiously.
Of course, the presence of a second ship would have substantially increased the chances that at least one of them might have been spotted. Which made it one more example of the endless trade-offs imposed by an imperfect universe.
She snorted at the thought and looked up from the plot.
"I think we're just about ready, Bob," she said.
"Yes, Ma'am," Commander Llewellyn acknowledged. "Should we send the crew to quarters?"
"I don't see any reason to completely clear for action," Ferrero replied. "Not against a merchie who's still two and a half million klicks outside energy range! Go ahead and close up the missile crews and Missile Defense. We can always man the energy mounts if Mr. Slaver decides to be difficult and refuses to heave to before we close into graser range. Of course, he'd have to be particularly stupid for that to happen."
"Yes, Ma'am."
A true stickler might have detected a slight edge of disappointment in Llewellyn's reply. The exec, Ferrero knew, was a tactical officer's tactical officer. He hated to pass up any opportunity for comprehensive weapons drills, especially when Tactical had a live targeteven one as unworthy as "Sittich"to practice on.
"Patience, Bob," she said in a quieter voice, pitched for his ears alone, after he'd passed the necessary orders. "If you behave yourself, I'll let you take the first pinnace across."
"That obvious, was I, Skipper?" he asked wryly.
"Maybe not that obvious," she said with a grin. "But headed that way. Definitely headed that way."
"Missile batteries report manned and ready, Ma'am," Harris reported from Tactical.
"Very well, Shawn. I think we're just about ready. Remember, we can't afford to just blow this one out of space, whatever it does."
"Understood, Ma'am." Lieutenant Harris nodded soberly. Pirates were one thing; slavers, with potentially hundreds of innocent victims aboard, were something else entirely.
"If she refuses to stop when Mecia hails her," Ferrero went on, "we'll put a shot or two across her bows. But if she still refuses to stop, we'll have to get close enough to take out her nodes with energy fire. Or," she grinned at Llewellyn again, "let the exec take his pinnaces out and play Preston of the Spaceways shooting up her impeller rings with their lasers."
"Oh, frabjous day!" Llewellyn murmured.
"I see you're really looking forward to it," Ferrero observed, and Llewellyn chuckled. Then the captain turned to Communications. "Are you ready to transmit, Mecia?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Then go ahead. And just to be certain they get the point, Shawn, lock them up with your fire control lidar and stand ready to fire that warning shot."
"Aye, aye, Ma'am."
Lieutenant McKee leaned closer to her microphone. "Sittich, this is the Royal Manticoran Navy cruiser Jessica Epps. You are instructed to reduce acceleration to zero, cut your wedge, and stand by to be boarded for routine search and examination."
The crisp, uncompromising demand went out over a directional com laser. It was extremely unlikely that Governor Chalmers would fail to realize what was happening when Jessica Epps boarded the false Sittich, but it was remotely possible. Harris' fire control systems were more likely to be detected by the system sensor arrays than McKee's communications laser, and if Ferrero actually had to fire a warning shot, the detonation of its warhead would definitely give the game away. But if she could keep Chalmers from figuring out what was happening, he was much more likely to be sitting there, still all fat and happy, when the warrant for his arrest arrived from the Confed government.
And slaving is probably the one thing that will actually get a Silly governor arrested, she reflected. Not that what passes for a government out here really has any particular moral objection to it. It's just that the Queen has made her own feelings on the trade abundantly, one might almost say painfully, clear. And no Silly in his right mind wants to cross her or her Navy on this one. Besides
"Incoming message!" McKee announced suddenly, and something about her tone snapped Ferrero's head up. She spun her command chair back towards the com officer.
"It's" McKee broke off and looked up at her captain, eyes huge in surprise. "Skipper, it's Hellbarde!"
"Hellbarde?!" Ferrero stared at the lieutenant for perhaps three seconds, then darted an accusing look at her tactical plot. There was no sign of the Andermani cruiser on it.
"Shawn?" she snapped.
"I don't know, Skipper!" the tac officer replied. "But I'm on it."
His hands were already flying across his console as he, his ratings, and CIC went suddenly to a full-press sensor sweep. They were no longer trying to creep quietly up on an unsuspecting prey, and their active arrays lit up surrounding space like a beacon.
"Skipper, you'd better listen to this," McKee said urgently, pulling Ferrero's attention back from the tactical section.
"Put it on speaker," Ferrero instructed.
"Aye, aye, Ma'am."
There was a brief moment of silence, and then a familiar, harsh-accented voice banished it.
"Jessica Epps, this is Hellbarde! You are instructed to shut down your targeting systems and break off your approach immediately!"
"Shut down?" Ferrero looked up at Llewellyn.
"Another incoming message," McKee broke in before the exec could reply. "This one's from 'Sittich.' "
"Speaker," Ferrero snapped.
"Jessica Epps, this is the Andermani merchant ship Sittich! What seems to be the problem? Sittich, clear."
"Another from Hellbarde, Skipper," McKee said, and Ferrero gestured for her to put it on speaker, as well.
"Jessica Epps, this is Hellbarde. Shut down your targeting systems now!"
"Got her, Skipper!" Harris announced, and Ferrero looked back down at her plot as a bright red icon abruptly appeared. It was no more than ten million kilometers behind Jessica Epps, only a little over half a light-minute, and Ferrero swore mentally. No matter how good the Andies' new stealth systems might be, there was no way Hellbarde should have been able to get in that close without being detected on passives even with Jessica Epps under complete em-con!
"Skipper, Sittich is transmitting again," McKee reported.