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"Imperial," nodded L'Wrona. "Seventh Dynasty-about the time they built this old hulk." The two turned back to the little egg.
"Something the margravate keeps to itself?" asked D'Trelna.
"And uses sparingly," smiled L'Wrona. The smile vanished. "Don't use it, J'Quel! It wreaks havoc with the programming overlay-taps those six thousand year old Imperial systems."
"No, no. Never," swore D'Trelna. Sighting again on the egg, he pulled the trigger, bathing the spheroid in a soft, red light.
Nothing happened for a moment. Then, as the blaster continued its shrilling, the egg started to glow-a golden s.h.i.+mmering that grew brighter as the spheroid began to swell. The two men stepped back as the slaver computer grew to fill the s.p.a.ce in front of the warheads.
The golden s.h.i.+mmering dimmed, then vanished. The commodore ceased firing and holstered his weapon. The egg lay across the deck, inert.
"Well, that should have done it," said D'Trelna, frowning. "According to s.h.i.+p's archives, you just feed it a steady, low grade dose of energy." He shook his head. "We better get back to the bridge."
"And do what?" asked L'Wrona. "Lead the crew in prayer? No." He nodded toward the slaver machine. "There's got to be a simple activation command, common to the era." He stood staring at the golden orb, fingers softly drumming his holster.
"I'm going," said D'Trelna after a moment, stepping toward the door.
"Wait," said L'Wrona, eyes never leaving the egg. "I'm thinking."
"Think faster," said the commodore, halting reluctantly. "Or we're all going to be processed by that s.p.a.ceborne abattoir out there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"T'Nil was one of the most expansionist emperors- ever," said L'Wrona. "And this"-he pointed at the egg-"a vital component of his premier war machine. If it came out of the Fleet Fabrication Center on D'Kor, there'd be a generic activation command."
"H'Nar, please, try something."
The captain walked over to where the machine lay. "Computer," he said, looking down at it, "Destiny and Empire."
Silently, the egg righted itself and rose, hovering just above the deck. "Destiny and Empire," it said in a perfect tenor. "How may I serve?"
D'Trelna slapped L'Wrona on the back. "Well done, H'Nar!"
"T'Nil's battle cry, J'Quel," said the captain. "And the motto of all successive emperors."
"It should have been blood and empire," said the commodore, watching the computer. "Identify," he said to the machine.
"Symbiotechnic Control Unit Seven-Four-Three-Eight, replicant," said the machine. "a.s.signed symbiotechnic dreadnought T'Nil's Revenge." T'Nil's Revenge."
"Computer," said D'Trelna, "we need-"
"I am addressed as either Seven-Four-Three-Eight-R, or Egg," said the machine.
D'Trelna closed his eyes as if in pain, then opened them. "Egg," he said carefully, "we are in need of tactical data. How would a L'Aal-cla.s.s cruiser defeat a mindsla-symbiotechnic dreadnought?''
"I'm not familiar with the nomenclature 'L'Aal,' " said Egg.
"You are on such a vessel now," said L'Wrona.
"Then I must have access to this s.h.i.+p's central computer," said the machine.
Captain and commodore exchanged glances. "What've we got to lose?" said L'Wrona.
"Very well, Egg," said D'Trelna. "Access s.h.i.+p's computer through the commpanel beside the door. If you need exchange protocols, we'll have our engineering--"
Stylus-thin, a beam of soft green light shot from the top of the spheroid to the commpanel. The connection lasted only an instant, then the beam snapped off. "This L'Aal-cla.s.s cruiser is almost identical to S'Htul-cla.s.s police cruisers of the S'Yal dynasty. If you wish to know how it can defeat the mindslaver now confronting it . . ."
"Yes?" said the two officers.
"It cannot. Your tactical situation is hopeless."
"For this, I left the bridge?" said D'Trelna, drawing his blaster.
"However," said Egg as the commodore twisted the muzzle back to combat setting. "What?" said D'Trelna.
"In theory, two wars.h.i.+ps of this approximate cla.s.s have a slight chance against a dreadnought-that is Alpha Prime Alpha Prime out there?" out there?"
"Yes," said L'Wrona.
"Good. She was the first of her type, without the advanced weapons systems of later s.h.i.+ps. With myself coordinating an attack, your s.h.i.+ps-''
"This is our only s.h.i.+p," said D'Trelna.
"Your crudely inhibited sensors show a second vessel, slightly smaller than this one, but heavily armed, standing off your port, poorly disguised as a rock. As Alpha Prime Alpha Prime has undoubtedly detected her presence, a joint operation would serve you both." has undoubtedly detected her presence, a joint operation would serve you both."
L'Wrona was out the door, running for the bridge before Egg had finished.
"Come with me . . . please," said the commodore.
The commando sergeant watched, bemused, as two similar shapes, one golden and metal, the other human and uniformed, moved down the corridor toward the lift.
Unable to communicate its urgent report about Egg to any station, Implacable'% Implacable'% computer kept trying to bypa.s.s the blockage. With increasing alarm, it found the restraints on its operations to be firm-and spreading. computer kept trying to bypa.s.s the blockage. With increasing alarm, it found the restraints on its operations to be firm-and spreading.
"Why haven't I been here before?" asked Zahava.
"No need," said R'Gal as the door closed behind them. "Not unless you're abandoning s.h.i.+p."
They stood at one end of a brightly lit corridor. It looked like any other of Implacable Implacable's long gray miles, save for the ten widely inters.p.a.ced doors that ran its length, five to each side. The door to Zahava and R'Gal's right read Lifepod 1. R'Gal thumbed the entry tab.
"Shall we?" said the K'Ronarin as the double doors of the airlock slid open. Zahava stepped into the lifepod.
It was a big, round room. Rows of red flight couches took up most of the floor s.p.a.ce, broken by three aisles and a central spiral stairway. Across the cabin from the airlock, beneath a blank main screen, two flight couches fronted a darkened double console.
"Looks more like a bus than a pod," said the Israeli.
"Long before even Implacable Implacable was built," said R'Gal as the door hissed shut, "survival vessels were one-man craft. Time went by, they grew to this." His hand swept the cabin. "Three levels, a hundred and fifty seats, maximum capacity over two hundred. Jump drive, n-gravs, automatic homers, sanitation and recreation facilities. The whole unit can be broken down to form the nucleus of a rough colony-power plant, forcefield, sanitation and shelter-just in case." He walked across the cabin as he spoke, heading for the double console. was built," said R'Gal as the door hissed shut, "survival vessels were one-man craft. Time went by, they grew to this." His hand swept the cabin. "Three levels, a hundred and fifty seats, maximum capacity over two hundred. Jump drive, n-gravs, automatic homers, sanitation and recreation facilities. The whole unit can be broken down to form the nucleus of a rough colony-power plant, forcefield, sanitation and shelter-just in case." He walked across the cabin as he spoke, heading for the double console.
"In case of what?"
"In case the automatic homers don't find a close-in planet emitting technology's telltale spores." Reaching the far side of the pod, the colonel dropped into the left chair and busied himself with the instruments.
"Why three levels?" asked Zahava, following him down the center aisle. "And why twice as many lifepods as needed?"
"Three levels to conform to Implacable's Implacable's design. So many pods because she probably carried a larger complement five thousand years ago." He leaned forward, reading a report as it flashed onto a telltale. "Maintenance log says we're the first to enter this pod since the s.h.i.+p left Terra." design. So many pods because she probably carried a larger complement five thousand years ago." He leaned forward, reading a report as it flashed onto a telltale. "Maintenance log says we're the first to enter this pod since the s.h.i.+p left Terra."
"Is that true?" she asked.
"It's true that the log entry reads no access since Terra." R'Gal stood as the telltale winked off. "It's also true that a S'Cotar trans.m.u.te could have telekinetically reprogrammed this pod's computer. . . . Check the upper levels," he said, motioning toward the stairway.
"For what?"
"Anything that looks out of place. Everything should be as spare and as orderly as on this level. Check the storage lockers and bins, food processors-anywhere something small could be hidden. If you find anything unusual, anything at all, use your communicator and call me. I'll be checking number two. Meet me in front of three when you've finished."
She nodded and was halfway up the stairs, blaster in hand, by the time R'Gal reached the exit.
"Anything from Alpha PrimeT' Alpha PrimeT' asked L'Wrona as K'Raoda relinquished the command chair. asked L'Wrona as K'Raoda relinquished the command chair.
"Nothing," said the first officer, resuming his station.
Both men looked at the main screen--the mindslaver hung there, a great dark menace out of legend, intimidating by its very existence.
"Fine," said the captain. "Let's fill our empty moments with a tactical exercise."
"Sir?" said K'Raoda, exchanging puzzled glances with T'Ral.
"a.s.sume," said L'Wrona, fingertips pressed together, "that there's a third s.h.i.+p close by, a wars.h.i.+p about our size. It's sitting dark and camouflaged, watching. a.s.sume further that our sensors have picked it up, but are unable to correlate key data because of Fleet's restrictive programming overlay. How do we get a readout?" He looked at T'Ral.
"N-gravs," said the third officer. Turning to his console, he busied himself at the complink. No one noticed D'Trelna enter the bridge.
"Of course," said K'Raoda. "He has to be using them to counter his drift. Just a burst, now and then, but-"
"But enough," grinned T'Ral, looking up. "Five-one-seven, mark four-one. Previously charted as an asteroid."
"Tight-beam transmission to that asteroid, please," said D'Trelna. He took his seat, oblivious to the stares that followed his hovering companion. "Use alpha channel, and transmit in battlecode."
"Sir," said K'Lana, "alpha channel's a Fleet inters.h.i.+p tactical band. And ..."
A glance from D'Trelna stopped her. "Do it," he said.
"Transmitting," she said a moment later.
L'Wrona walked to the commodore's station. "I can think of only one man who'd come into this quadrant after us, J'Quel."
"Before us," said D'Trelna. "Had to be. Otherwise, we'd have made him." He flipped the commswitch. "Implacable "Implacable to unknown s.h.i.+p-acknowledge." to unknown s.h.i.+p-acknowledge."
On Victory Day, Victory Day, A'Tir turned to K'Tran, shaking her head. "Incoming transmission on the tactical band. A'Tir turned to K'Tran, shaking her head. "Incoming transmission on the tactical band. Implacable Implacable's made us."
The other corsair shrugged. "Much good it'll do them." He touched his commkey.
The image on Implacable' Implacable's main screen changed from that of the mindslaver to the smiling face of Captain K'Tran. He wore the standard brown K'Ronarin uniform with the stylized silver s.h.i.+p of a stars.h.i.+p captain on the collar. "Victory Day "Victory Day on your flank, Commodore. How stands the Fleet?" on your flank, Commodore. How stands the Fleet?"
A ripple of anger swept Implacable^ Implacable^ bridge-just about everyone had lost friends to the K'Tran's killers. bridge-just about everyone had lost friends to the K'Tran's killers.
"K'Tran, you renegade butcher," growled D'Trelna. He stood, face flushed, eyes blazing with hate. "How dare you render the greeting of honorable men? How dare you wear the uniform of your victims? You parasitic v'org slime-''
"You're being wearisome, D'Trelna," said K'Tran easily. "You've made us, but I fail to see what you can do about it. Start blasting away, that slaver's going to wipe you."
The commodore sat down, recovering. "It'd be worth it, to dispose of you. . . . Some sc.u.m paying you slime to follow us?" he asked, dialing up a fruit drink.
"Now, D'Trelna, you know I can't betray a client's confidence," said the corsair. "Though, had I known about the mindslaver, we'd have found an easier mark. Like Prime Base. And as soon as it breaks your command up for parts, we'll be on our way."
D'Trelna shook his head. "We go, you go. My word on it." He swiveled his chair. "Egg," he said to the slaver machine, "by how much must we boost signal power for Alpha Prime Alpha Prime to detect the third vessel, to detect the third vessel, Victory Victory Day?" Day?"
The golden spheroid drifted to D'Trelna's side, coming within pickup range of the transmission. "Increase by a factor of three," it said.
D'Trelna turned to the comm officer. "K'Lana, I seem to be having a problem. Increase signal strength by a factor of three, please."
"Wait!" K'Tran's smile was gone. "What do you want?"
"Hold, K'Lana," said D'Trelna. He turned back to K'Tran. "Can't you guess, K'Tran?"
A'Tir had pulled an ID from Victory Day's Victory Day's archives. She sent it over to K'Tran's station. He stared at the data for a surprised instant, then looked up. "Where'd you get a slaver computer, D'Trelna? archives. She sent it over to K'Tran's station. He stared at the data for a surprised instant, then looked up. "Where'd you get a slaver computer, D'Trelna? TNil's Revenge!" TNil's Revenge!"
"Where I got it isn't important," said the commodore. "What we'll be using it for is."
"We'll?"
"Yes," said D'Trelna. "It'll be conning our combined battleops. We're going to penetrate that mindslaver's defenses and storm her bridge, K'Tran. You and me, yours and mine, side by side. Victory or death."
There was a long silence on both bridges. "You're mad, D'Trelna," said the corsair.
"Am I?" said D'Trelna. "You're a superb tactician. Consider the situation tactically, K'Tran."
He did, fingers softly drumming the chairarm, eyes distant. When he looked back at the pickup, both his and D'Trelna's crew were watching. "Victory or death, Commodore," he said. "There's no other way. What are your orders?"
"Maintain position, be prepared to link battleops on my command," said D'Trelna.
"As the commodore orders," said the corsair, switching off.
"You're serious?" said A'Tir as D'Trelna's face vanished. "We're taking orders from Fats?"
K'Tran nodded slowly. "We're too close to run, but near enough to attack. Only a coordinated a.s.sault has even a remote chance of success. That slaver computer may give us an edge."
"Or betray us utterly," said A'Tir.
"It's a fluid situation," said K'Tran slowly. "And it may yet favor us." His old self-a.s.surance, blunted for a moment, was returning. "We're not burdened by duty, ethics or conscience." He nodded toward the screen. "They are. . . . Stand by to link battleops. And give me s.h.i.+pwide so everyone can share in the good news."