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Authors: Laura E. Reeve

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BOOK: Vigilante
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Behind Lieutenant Colonel Aquino, Colonel Edones was webbed into the
mission commander’s seat and reviewing something on the slate plugged into his chair. He wore
the only black and blue uniform on the control deck; everyone else was normal AFCAW Ops,
wearing green combat suits. Edones’s frigid blue eyes, his bland expression, even the manner in
which he tapped his slate, radiated cold, hard competence. Oleander was surprised to feel
comforted by his demeanor but, as she reminded herself, Edones was the sole officer on deck who
had experience from the war.
Surveying the control deck, she figured the two senior noncoms had seen
battle with the League. Senior Master Sergeant Albert was loadmaster, when the ship wasn’t at
battle readiness. Now he was responsible for damage control and sat at the damage assessment
console. Chief Master Sergeant Serafin sat at tactical, her thin sharp face focused on her
displays.

Percival
matching us, sir.
Twelve
kilometers astern and twenty degrees to port.” Chief Serafin’s gaze slid
sideways to glance at the Terran officer.
Oleander imagined what Serafin’s gut was going through, flying formation
with an
enemy
ship. She and Albert put their doubts on record by
vocally protesting, during the mission briefing, the presence of a Terran officer on the
control deck. Colonel Edones had calmly acknowledged their suspicions as valid, but countered
that Terran presence was necessary to coordinate the dual-flag mission.
Major Phillips of the Terran Space Forces, the focus of all this
heartburn, sat quietly at the comm monitor station. An AFCAW staff Intell officer might operate
this station, but rarely. The station was a holdover from the war because the upgraded comm
stations could do everything it could, and more. Now this console was configured to prevent
Major Phillips from doing anything but speaking with the
Percival
.
His counterpart—
or exchanged hostage
—was Major Bernard, who
currently sat on the bridge of the
Percival
.
“Comm, please remind the
Percival
that
twenty kilometers was the separation distance for buoy approach.” Edones’s voice was
pleasant.
“Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Kozel, the comm officer, eagerly informed the
Percival
of their error. Kozel was the most junior officer on the
deck, his date of rank three years younger than Oleander’s.
“Major Phillips? I’ll remind you of your duties as coordinator on this
rescue mission. You’re responsible for your crew observing the legal limits. Don’t make me
bypass you again.” Edones’s voice became colder and almost everyone on the control deck turned
to view the Terran officer. They all knew the
Percival
had probably
just breached their communications and EM security.
“Yes, sir.” The words seemed to jerk out of Major Phillips mouth without
his consent. He appeared uncomfortable as he nodded at Lieutenant Colonel Aquino. “Sirs,” he
added. The Terrans had some confusion regarding the mission commander versus ship commander
roles.
“Damage Assessment, log the CommSec violation,” Aquino said. He turned
to exchange a glance with Edones. “And we’re not even out of the system yet.”
“Yessir,” Sergeant Albert drawled.

Percival
dropping back to twenty
kilometers,” reported Serafin.
Oleander suppressed a smile as she turned back to her console. At least
Phillips wasn’t adept at
somaural
projection, which was good to
know.
Three and a half hours to N-space drop. Military ships didn’t verify
that crew members had dosed themselves with D-tranny before dropping, so she checked her
implant and its load of drugs. She verified that her implant would release the bright as close
to real-space transition as possible. She had a feeling she’d need it.
CHAPTER 20
When requested, the Consortium of Autonomist Worlds
has agreed to provide between one and five ships, with
maximum tonnage and personnel specified in appen dix 5. The hosting Pilgrimage ship will
decide number,
deployment period, entry, and departure of ships within
Pilgrimage sovereign space. All weapon systems and
munitions must be inventoried and approved. . . .
 

Section III, Status of Forces Agreement
Between the
Consortium of Autonomist Worlds and the Pilgrimage Ship
Line
, 2085.210.12.00 US, indexed by Heraclitus 4
under Flux Imperative
 
 
“C
ommand Post put that nut on hold. Serves him
right.” Julian triumphantly shut off the channel that previously carried Hal’s arguments with
CP to all listeners.
Hearing Hal’s voice had given Ariane hope, although resistance on Beta
Priamos didn’t help her stop the TD warhead attached to this ship. She turned her attention
back to Julian. He didn’t have military experience. The ship was capable of monitoring two comm
channels plus S-DATS. Granted, most pilots wouldn’t monitor S-DATS unless they were on dock
approach, but no one with military training would
shut off
one of
their comm channels.
Julian, like most real-space jockeys, acted as if he were driving a
planetary vehicle. Heavily reliant upon that metaphor, he stayed with the in-the-round display,
showing a fake window that wrapped one hundred sixty degrees around the forward consoles.
Real-space jockeys were most comfortable with cam-eye views and linear distance displays, which
let them feel as if they were looking out of an airplane cockpit.
Julian set one view port on the left to the planetary orbit plane
through the solar system. Over to the right side, near Ariane’s position, two small view ports
were open. One showed cam-eye video of Beta Priamos, now barely visible, while the other
displayed the default FTL display identifying all bodies within ten thousand kilometers of
their position. She glanced at it, noting their progress away from Laomedon and saw a familiar
blinking ID.
Aether’s Touch!
She looked away. Joyce must
have received her message and followed, although he’d wisely dropped out of the direct line
between Beta Priamos and
Candor Chasma
. However, he hadn’t had time
to sabotage the civilian transponder. She couldn’t let the isolationists see the
Aether’s Touch
.
“Set your displays correctly,” Ariane said as she leaned forward. She
quickly moved her tied hands up onto the console in front of Julian’s right arm and
tapped.
“Hey! Stay away from my console.” Julian backhanded her across the face.
Considering Sabina and Abram had already worked her face over, this hurt like hell. She flew
backward into her seat.
Emery and Tahir had been diddling with something at the weapons console;
both looked up, frowning. What now displayed in front of Julian was the ship’s route using two
dimensions of time. This plot was used by N-space pilots, but could be mind-bending for the
mathematically challenged. A complementary view port represented their current vector in
numerical text, not graphics. She knew these would be the last displays Julian would
pick.
Julian set about bringing up the representations that he understood,
while Emery and Tahir went back to their discussion. Tahir had readily entered his test codes,
which surprised and panicked her. If he had some sort of plan to stop the detonation, he hadn’t
given her any clue regarding his tactics.
None of the men paid any attention to her suggestion regarding the
displays, but that wasn’t the point. Muttering about a nosy bitch who didn’t know her place,
Julian brought back the in-the-round display. He also chose to again open the cam-eye view
behind him, probably to give him the confidence that he was moving in the right direction. Its
poor resolution could no longer distinguish any artificial objects against the huge backdrop of
Laomedon. Since he had FTL data through the buoy and he knew safety procedures recommended an
open FTL display, his hand hovered in indecision. She held her breath, but as she hoped, he
chose the diagram that charted their forward course.
Aether’s Touch
no longer showed on any
displays. She relaxed.
“We’ve identified fourteen possible crazies on-station.” Joyce glanced
at the stunned and bound figures propped in the corner of CP. “Two have been taken out. Six are
waiting for you at the airlock for B-4. That leaves six others roaming around.”
“The station doesn’t have complete node coverage yet. There may be
more—crazies—hiding about,” Hal said.
Even Hal had picked up his nomenclature, Joyce noted rather proudly.
After all, it’s a perfectly appropriate name
. Joyce stood behind
Maria as she tried to convince the freighter crew that her plan would work.
“We think we’ve got an accurate count, considering what we saw down on
Priamos,” Maria said. “Abram took moles with him down to the surface. Particularly ones with
tech skills.”
“Still, you don’t know if some of them are waiting on the
Hesperus
.” Hal was uneasy, frowning. “We could lose the
Golden Bull
, which has a referential engine.”
“You haven’t got the resources to get within lock distance of the buoy,”
Maria said bluntly. “You tell them you’re coming in, and Joyce spoofs the lights at B-4 to make
it look like you’re docking. That’ll hold them for a while, but how long will it take you to go
through the cargo-to-cargo connection with
Hesperus
, then get to
the B-1 airlock?”
“We’ve got to pressurize the bay, since the
Hesperus
is pressurized for emergency evacuation.” Somebody behind Hal said
something, and he turned to speak off-line for a moment. He turned back to face the cam-eye.
“And we’re almost finished with that.”
“So you’re in?” Maria asked.
Hal grinned and winked. “We’re in. After all, it was our idea to begin
with.”
Joyce raised his eyebrows. Maria had worked out the details, but
strictly speaking, Hal was right. The freighter crew first brought up the possibility of
connecting the two freighters. The cargo-to-cargo connection wasn’t designed to be used under
pressure, since the crew usually wore EVA suits under that type of cargo transfer. However, the
bays could be separately pressurized for sensitive cargo and the
Hesperus
was already sitting there, pressurized, because it was the temporary
emergency evacuation vehicle for Beta Priamos. Now they had a coherent, but risky, plan to get
the crew of the
Golden Bull
to safety, quickly and quietly.
“How long until you’re at B-1?” Joyce asked Hal again.
“Give us at least twenty minutes. That’s
if
we don’t run into any crazies sitting on the
Hesperus
.”
“Can you do it any faster?” Joyce frowned. He didn’t think the fake
docking signals would fool the crowd waiting at B-4 for long.
“I want my entire crew safely across the cargo connection before we move
through the
Hesperus
.”
“Then get going. I’ll start the docking lights to keep the people at B-4
entertained.”
After Hal signed off, Maria sighed and looked over at the display of the
men waiting at airlock B-4. They didn’t hide from the cam-eye, apparently thinking that CP had
cut all video feed to fool the docking ship. When she broadcasted Hal’s “surrender” over the CP
channel, they jittered about like bugs as they tried to figure out their weapons coverage.
Luckily, they had no way of looking outside since Beta Priamos was built to protect its
residents from radiation. There were no windows in the docking ring.
“You don’t think they’ll buy your light show for that long, do you?” she
said.
“No. If they’re not already suspicious that CP isn’t up on voice,
they’ll soon be. They might send runners to find out what’s happening.”
She nodded, running her tongue over her teeth in a contemplative manner.
“Too bad we don’t have any other distractions.”
“But we do. If you give me that awesome weapon you collected”—he held
out his hand—“I can run around the station and create havoc.”
“If you think this will work against flechettes, then be my guest.”
Maria dropped the ministunner into his hand.
“I can free the station’s original staff. That’ll be a good
distraction.” Joyce motioned at the diagram where they’d mapped the probable locations of the
imprisoned personnel. These were locked storage areas that either didn’t have a lock override
or didn’t respond to CP’s override unlock, perhaps because they were manually disabled.
“You think that’s the best thing to do right now? If you release
civilians
, you may incur collateral damage.”
Joyce paused and looked at her carefully. Her expression was impassive
and detached, her voice soft, but was she genuinely concerned for the safety of
civilians?
A beeping alarm caused them both to look at the comm console.
BOOK: Vigilante
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