Planet Pirates Omnibus Part 13

Briskly, holding Seles' gaze with hers, she said, "You're quite right, that a captain operating in a state of emergency has the right to execute any person on board who is deemed to represent a threat to the security of the vessel. Yes, I could kill you, here and now, with no farther discussion. But I'm not going to." Seles' mouth fell open, and her hands shook even more. Currald's face had hardened into disgust. "You don't deserve a quick death and this - " she slapped the folder, "sort of thing, these spurious heroics. The Fleet's spent a lot of money training you - considerably more than your family did treating you and s.h.i.+pping you around and yelling at you. You owe us that, and you owe your s.h.i.+pmates an apology for d.a.m.n near killing them. Including Major Currald."

"I - I didn't know it would hurt heavyworlders - " pleaded Seles.

"Be quiet." Currald's tone shut her mouth with a snap; Sa.s.sinak hoped he'd never speak to her like that, although she was sure she could survive it. "You didn't think to try it on yourself, did you?"

"But I'm not pure - "

"Nor holy," said Sa.s.s, breaking into that before Currald went too far. "That's the point, Seles. You had a bad childhood: so did lots of us. People were mean to you: same with lots of us. That's no reason to go around poisoning people who haven't done you any harm. If you really want to poison someone, why not your family? They're the ones who hurt you."

"But I'm - but they're - "

"Your birth family, yes. And Fleet has tried to be - and could have been - your life family. Now you've done something we can't ignore; you've killed someone, Seles, and not bravely, in a fight, but sneakily. Court martial, when we get back, maybe psychiatric evaluation - "

"I'm not crazy!"

"No? You try to please those who hurt you, and poison those who befriend you; that sounds crazy to me. And you are guilty, but if I punish you then other heavyworlders may think I did so because of your genes, not your deeds."

"Heavyworlders should get out of FSP, and take care of themselves," muttered Seles stubbornly. "It never helped us."

Sa.s.sinak looked at Currald, whose mask of contempt and disgust had softened a little. She nodded slightly. "I think. Major Currald, that we have a combined medical and legal problem here. Under the circ.u.mstances, we don't have the best situation for psychiatric intervention . . . and I don't want to convene a court on this young lady until there's been a full evaluation."

"You think it's enough for - "

"For mitigation, and perhaps for a full plea of incompetence. But that's outside my sphere; my concern now is to minimize the damage she's done, in all areas, and preserve the evidence."

Seles looked back and forth between them, clearly puzzled and frightened. "But I - I demand - I"

Sa.s.sinak shook her head. "Seles, if a court martial later calls for your execution, I will see that your statement is returned to your family. But at the moment, I see no alternative to protective confinement." She opened a channel to Sickbay, and spoke briefly to the Medical Officer. "Major Currald, I can have Security take her down, or - "

"I'll do it," he said. Sa.s.sinak could sense that pity had finally replaced disgust.

"Thank you. I think she'll be calmer with you." For several reasons, Sa.s.sinak thought to herself. Currald had the size and confident bearing of a full-adapted heavyworlder, trained for battle . . . Seles would not be likely to try escape, and under his gaze would be unwilling to have hysterics.

Less than an hour later, the Medical Officer called back, to report that she considered Seles at serious risk of suicide or other violent action. "She's hanging on by a thread," she said. "That note - that's the sort of thing the Gelway terrorists used. She could go any minute, and locked in the brig she'd be likely to do it sooner rather than later. I want to put her under, medical necessity."

"Fine with me. Send it up for my seal, when you've done the paperwork, and let's be very careful that nothing happens to that coldsleep tank. I don't want any suspicions whatever about our proceedings."

Now that was settled. Sa.s.sinak leaned back in her seat, wondering why she felt such sympathy for this girl. She'd never liked whiners herself, the girl had killed one of her crew - but the bewildered pain in those eyes, the shaky alliance of courage and stark fear - that got to her. Currald said much the same thing, when he got back up to Main Deck. "I'm an Inclusionist," he said, "but I've always believed we should test our youngsters on high-g worlds. We've got something worth preserving, something extra, not just something missing. I've even supported those who want to withhold special treatment from newborn throwbacks. There's enough lightweights in the universe, I've said, breeding fast enough: why spend money and time raising another weakling? At first glance, this kid is just the point of my argument. Her family spent all that money and worry and time, FSP spent all that money on her boarding school, Fleet spent money and time on her in training, and all they got out of it was an incompetent, fairly stupid poisoner. But - I don't know - I want to stomp her into the ground, and at the same time I'm sorry for her. She's not good for anything, but she could have been." He gave Sa.s.sinak another, far more human, glance. "I hate to admit it, but the very things I believe in probably turned her into that wet mess."

"I hope something can be salvaged." Sa.s.sinak pushed a filled mug across her desk, and he took it. "But what I told her is perfectly true: many of us have had difficult childhoods, many of us have been hurt one way or another. I expect you've faced prejudice on account of your background - " He nodded, and she went on. " - But you didn't decide to poison the innocent to get back at those who hurt you." Sa.s.sinak took a long swallow from her own mug - not coffee, but broth. "Thing is, humans of all sorts are under pressure. There've been questions asked in Council about the supposed human domination of Fleet."

"What!" Clearly he hadn't heard that before.

"It's not general knowledge, but a couple of races are pus.h.i.+ng for mandatory quotas at the Academy. Even the Ryxi - "

'Those featherdusters!"

"I know. But you're Fleet, Currald: you know humans need to stick together. Heavyworlders have a useful adaptation, but they couldn't take on the rest of FSP alone." He nodded, somber again. Sa.s.sinak wondered what went on behind those opaque brown eyes. Yet he was trustworthy: had to be, after the past week. Anything less, and they'd not have survived.

Her next visitor was Hollister, with a report on the extended repairs and probable performance limits of the s.h.i.+p until it went in for refitting. Even though the portside pods had not been as badly damaged as they'd originally thought, he insisted that the s.h.i.+p would not stand another long FTL chase. "One hop, two - a clear course into Sector - that we can manage. But the kind of maneuvering that the Ssli has to call for in a chase, no. You've no idea what load that puts on the pods - "

Sa.s.sinak scowled. "That means we can't find out where they go when they leave?"

"Right. We'd be as likely to end up here as there, and most likely to be spread in between. I'd have to log a protest."

"Which would hardly be read if we did splatter. No, never mind. I won't do that. But there must be something more than sitting here. If only we could tag their s.h.i.+ps, somehow ..."

"Well, now, that's another story." He'd been prepared to argue harder, Sa.s.sinak realized, as he sat back, brow furrowed. "Let's see ... you're a.s.suming that someone'll come along to evacuate, and you'd like to know where it goes, and we can't follow, so ..."

His voice trailed off; Sa.s.sinak waited a moment, but he said nothing. Finally he shook himself, and handed her another data cube. "I'll think about it, but in the meantime, we've got another problem. Remember the trouble we were having with the scrubbers in Environmental?"

"Yes." Sa.s.sinak inserted the cube, wondering why he'd brought a hardcopy up here instead of just switching an output to her terminal. Then she focussed on the display and bit back an oath. When she glanced at him, he nodded.

"It's worse." It was much worse. Day by day, the recycling efficiency had dropped, and the contaminant fraction had risen. Figures that she'd skimmed over earlier came back to her now: reaction equilibrium constants, rates of algal growth. "One thing that went wrong," Hollister went on, pointing to the supporting data, "is that somehow an overflow valve stuck, and we backflushed from the 'ponics into the supply lines. We've got green crud growing all along here - ' He pointed to the schematic. "Cleaned it out of the crosslines by yesterday, but that's nutrient-rich flow, and the stuff loves it. We can't kill it off without killing off the main 'ponics tanks, and that would mean going on backup oxygen, and we lost twenty percent of our backup oxygen in the row with that s.h.i.+p."

Sa.s.sinak winced. She'd forgotten about the oxygen spares damaged or blown in that fight.

"Ordinarily," Hollister went on, "it'd help that we have a smaller crew, with the prize crew gone. But because we weren't sure of the biosystems on that transport, I'm short of biosystems crew. Very short. What we need to do is flush the whole system, and replant - but it'd be a lot safer to do that somewhere we could get aired up. In the meantime, we're going to be working twice as hard to get somewhat less output, and that's if nothing else goes wrong."

"Could it be sabotage?" asked Sa.s.s.

Hollister shrugged. "Could be. Of course it could be. But it could just as easily be ordinary glitches."

Chapter Thirteen.

Day by day the biosystems monitors showed continued system failure. Sa.s.sinak forced herself to outward calmness, though she raged inwardly: to be so close, to have found a slaver base, and perhaps a line to its supporters, and then - not to be able to pursue. Hollister's daily reports reinforced the data on her screens: they had no reserves for pursuit, and they could not hold station much longer.

She hung on, nonetheless, hoping for another few s.h.i.+ps to show up, anything to give her something to show for this expedition. Or, if Huron's relief expedition arrived, they could take over surveillance. She spent some time each day digging through the personnel files, checking every person who should have been in the quadrant from which the missile came, and who might have had access to a signalling device. There were forty or fifty of them, and she worked her way from Aariefa to Kelly, hoping to be interrupted by insystem traffic. Finally a single s.h.i.+p appeared at the edge of her scanning range, just entering the system. Its IFF signal appeared to be undamaged, giving its ma.s.s/volume characteristics straightforwardly.

"Hmm." Sa.s.sinak frowned over the display. "If that's right, it should have the new beacon system installed." "Can we trip it?"

"We can try." The new system functioned as planned, revealing that the s.h.i.+p in question had come from Courcy-DeLan: before that it had hauled "mixed liquids" on the Valri-Palin-Terehalt circuit for eighteen months. "Mixed liquids" came in ten-liter carboys, what-ever that meant. Fuels? Drugs? Chemicals for some kind of synthetic process? It could be anything from concentrated acids to vitamin supplements for the slaves' diet. Not that it was important right then, but Sa.s.sinak wished she could get a look at the s.h.i.+p's manifest.

Two more transports entered the system, and cautiously made their way down to the planet surface. The Zaid-Dayan's Zaid-Dayan's sensitive detectors were able to pinpoint the s.h.i.+ps' locations on the surface, confirming that they had both settled onto the original contact site. Then a huge s.h.i.+p appeared, this one clearly unable to land on-planet. A Hall-Kir hull, designed for orbital station docking, settled into a low orbit. Now Sa.s.sinak was sure they were going to evacuate the base. A Hall-Kir could handle an enormous load of machinery and equipment. But the s.h.i.+p was at least twelve years old, and lacked the new beacon; nor could Sa.s.sinak figure out a way to tag it for future surveillance. Its IFF revealed only that it was leased from General Systems Freight Lines, a firm that had nothing on its records. Since the IFF reported only serial owners, Sa.s.sinak could not tell who had it under lease, or if it had been leased to doubtful clients before. sensitive detectors were able to pinpoint the s.h.i.+ps' locations on the surface, confirming that they had both settled onto the original contact site. Then a huge s.h.i.+p appeared, this one clearly unable to land on-planet. A Hall-Kir hull, designed for orbital station docking, settled into a low orbit. Now Sa.s.sinak was sure they were going to evacuate the base. A Hall-Kir could handle an enormous load of machinery and equipment. But the s.h.i.+p was at least twelve years old, and lacked the new beacon; nor could Sa.s.sinak figure out a way to tag it for future surveillance. Its IFF revealed only that it was leased from General Systems Freight Lines, a firm that had nothing on its records. Since the IFF reported only serial owners, Sa.s.sinak could not tell who had it under lease, or if it had been leased to doubtful clients before.

"Fleet signal!" Sa.s.sinak woke from her restless doze at the squawk in her ear, and thumbed down the intercom volume control.

"What is it?"

"Fleet signal-inbound light attack group. Commodore Verstan commanding. It's on a tight beam, coded - but they're sure to have noticed - "

"I'm on my way." Sa.s.sinak shook her head, wondering if the slight headache was an artifact of worry, or really a problem with the air quality. Into the shower, fresh uniform, then onto the bridge, where alertness replaced the slightly jaded look of the past few days.

"It was aimed for this planet's local system," said the Corn officer. "They must know we're - "

Sa.s.sinak shook her head. "They're hoping - they don't know for sure."

"Well, aren't you going to send a return signal?"

"What's our window?"

"Oh. That's right." Shoulders sagged. "We just barely picked it up, and now that miserable planet's in the way."

"And their moon station should have intercepted it, right?"

"Yes, but - "

"So we lie low a little longer," said Sa.s.s. "Give me a plot to the nearest Fleet position, and your best guess at its course."

That came up in light blue on the system graphics. Sa.s.sinak tried to think what she'd heard about Commodore Verstan. Would he ease cautiously into the system on the slower but very accurate insystem drives, or would he take FTL chunks across, as she had? How many were in his battle group - would he send a scouts.h.i.+p or escort vessel ahead? Surely Huron would have warned him about the falsified IFF signals, and he'd be ready for trouble . . . but some flag officers tended to downplay the warnings of juniors.

She called Hollister up to the bridge, to ask about their capabilities. It would be lovely if they could spring a trap on the pirates - although how to arrange that without revealing their existence was a bit tricky.

Far sooner than she expected, they intercepted another Fleet signal - evidently the Commodore had elected to come in fast, leapfrogging his smaller vessels ahead of the cruisers. The Scratch, an escort-cla.s.s s.h.i.+p, was now sunward of them, scanning the entire "back" side of the planet system for any activity. Sa.s.sinak put a single coded message burst onto the tightest focus she could manage, and then waited. With any luck, the pirates wouldn't have anything around to notice that transmission.

Within seconds, she had a reply, and then a relayed link to Commodore Verstan. He wanted a rendezvous, and insisted that she move the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan from its hidden location. Her suggestion that they arrange a trap, in which her concealed s.h.i.+p could suddenly intercept s.h.i.+ps fleeing from his more obvious attack force was denied. from its hidden location. Her suggestion that they arrange a trap, in which her concealed s.h.i.+p could suddenly intercept s.h.i.+ps fleeing from his more obvious attack force was denied.

There was nothing to do but comply. The outside crew retrieved the sensors and nets it had deployed on nearby chunks of rock, and when they were all back inside, Hollister gave the various drive components a last check. Then they waited over two hours, to clear the pirate surveillance.

"I may have to give up a good observation post," said Sa.s.s, "but I'm not about to jump out in front of them and say 'Boo.' We might be able to sneak away without their knowing we existed."

Carefully, delicately, the pilots extricated the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan from the rocky cleft in which it had been hidden, and boosted away from the moonlet. Once free of it, Sa.s.sinak took a deep breath. Although it had given them safety at a critical time, a moon's surface was not her s.h.i.+p's natural home, and she felt irrationally safer in free flight. Besides, they could now "see" all around them, no longer confined to the narrowed angle of vision imposed by the moon and its rugged surface. from the rocky cleft in which it had been hidden, and boosted away from the moonlet. Once free of it, Sa.s.sinak took a deep breath. Although it had given them safety at a critical time, a moon's surface was not her s.h.i.+p's natural home, and she felt irrationally safer in free flight. Besides, they could now "see" all around them, no longer confined to the narrowed angle of vision imposed by the moon and its rugged surface.

As the s.h.i.+p came up to speed, all systems functioned perfectly - no red lights flared on the bridge to warn of imminent disaster. If she had not known about the damaged pods, and the patched hole in the port side docking bay, Sa.s.sinak would have thought the s.h.i.+p in perfect condition.

Navigating through the planet's cluttered s.p.a.ce required all her concentration for the next few hours. By the time they were outside all the satellites and rings, the Fleet attack force was only a couple of light minutes away. She elected not to hop it, but continued on the insystem main drives, spending the hours of approach to ensure that her s.h.i.+p and its crew were ready for inspection. A couple of minutes with the personnel files had reminded her that Commodore Verstan had a reputation for being finicky. She had a feeling he would have plenty to say about the appearance of her s.h.i.+p.

Meanwhile, she noted that his approach to the pirate base followed precisely the recommendations of the Rules of Engagement. Two escort-cla.s.s vessels. Scratch Scratch and and Darkwatch Darkwatch, were positioned sunward of the planet, no doubt "to catch strays." The command cruiser, Seb Harr Seb Harr, and the two light cruisers formed a wedge; three patrol craft were positioned one on either flank and one trailing. They held these positions as the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan approached, rather than closing with the planet system. approached, rather than closing with the planet system.

Sa.s.sinak brought the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan neatly into place behind the Seb Harr, and opened the tightly s.h.i.+elded link to Commodore Verstan. He looked just like his holo in the Flag Officer Directory, a lean, pink-faced man with thick gray hair and bright blue eyes. Behind him, she could see Huron watching the screen anxiously. neatly into place behind the Seb Harr, and opened the tightly s.h.i.+elded link to Commodore Verstan. He looked just like his holo in the Flag Officer Directory, a lean, pink-faced man with thick gray hair and bright blue eyes. Behind him, she could see Huron watching the screen anxiously.

"Commander Sa.s.sinak," said Verstan, formally. "We received signals from a Fleet distress beacon."

Sa.s.sinak's heart sank. If he was going to take that that approach . . . approach . . .

"But I see that was some kind of... misunderstanding." She started to speak but he was going on without waiting. "Lieutenant Commander Huron had suggested the possibility that the apparent explosion of your s.h.i.+p was staged somehow, though I believe ... uh . . . tradition favors disabling the beacon if this is done ..."

"Sir, in this instance the beacon's signal was necessary to fool the pirates - "

"Ah, yes. The pirates. And how many armed s.h.i.+ps were you facing, Commander?"

Sa.s.sinak gritted her teeth. There would be a court of inquiry; there was always a court of inquiry in circ.u.mstances like these, and that that was the place for these questions. "The first armed s.h.i.+p," she said, "was escorting the slaver transport. We did not know at that time if the slaver were armed - " was the place for these questions. "The first armed s.h.i.+p," she said, "was escorting the slaver transport. We did not know at that time if the slaver were armed - "

"But it wasn't. You had the IFF signal - "

"We knew the IFF of the escort had been falsified, and weren't sure of the transport. Some of them are: you will recall the Cles Prel Cles Prel loss, when a supposedly unarmed transport blew a light cruiser away - " That was a low blow, she knew: the captain of the loss, when a supposedly unarmed transport blew a light cruiser away - " That was a low blow, she knew: the captain of the Cles Cles Prel Prel had been Verstan's cla.s.smate at the Academy. His face stiffened, then she saw dawning respect in his eyes: he was a stickler for protocol, but he liked people with gumption. had been Verstan's cla.s.smate at the Academy. His face stiffened, then she saw dawning respect in his eyes: he was a stickler for protocol, but he liked people with gumption.

"You said 'the first armed s.h.i.+p,' " he went on. "Was there another?"

Sa.s.sinak explained about the well-defended base, and the s.h.i.+ps that had boosted off to join the battle. She knew Huron would have told him about the weaponry on the first s.h.i.+p - if he'd listened. Then, before he could ask details of the battle, she told him about the traffic in the system since.

"They've had three Gourney-cla.s.s transports land in the past few days, and there's a Hall-Kir in low orbit. One of the Gourney-cla.s.s is definitely from a heavyworlder system, and it's made uncla.s.sified trips before. I think they're planning to evacuate the base; we monitored considerable shuttle activity up to the orbital s.h.i.+p."

"Any idea how big the base is?"

"Not really. We were on the back side of that moonlet, with only a small sensor net deployed for line of sight to the planet. The thermal profile is consistent with anything from one thousand to fifteen thousand, depending on a.s.sociated activities. If we knew for sure what they were doing, we could come closer to a figure. I can dump the data for you - "

"Please do."

Sa.s.sinak matched channels, and sent the data. "If their turnaround is typical. Commodore, they could be loaded and ready to lift in another couple of days."

"I see. Do you think they'll do it with our force here?"

"Probably - they won't gain anything by waiting for you to put them under siege. Oh - that outer moon - did Huron tell you about their detection profile?"

"Yes. I know they know we've entered the system - we also stripped their outer warning beacon. But that's exactly what I'm hoping for. Three medium transports, one Hall-Kir hull ... we should be able to trail several of them, if we can tag them. If we wait another week, we may have more in the net when we attack. How about you?"

She wanted to join the hunt more than anything in years, but Hollister was shaking his head at her. "Sir, my environmental system is overloaded, and my portside pods sustained considerable damage . . . the engineers tell me we can't do another long chase."

"Humph. Can you give us a visual? Maybe we have something you can use for repairs?"

Apparently one of the other cruisers had a visual on them, for before Sa.s.sinak could reply, she saw a picture come up on the screen behind Commodore Verstan. One of his bridge officers pointed it out to him, and he turned - then swung back to face Sa.s.sinak with a startled expression.

"What the devil happened to you? It looks like your portside loading bay - "

"Was breached. Yes, but it's tight now. Looks pretty bad, I know - "

"And you're short at least two portside pods . . . you're either lucky or crazy, Commander, and I'm not sure which."

"Lucky, I hope," said Sa.s.sinak, not displeased with his reaction. "By the way, is Lieutenant Commander Huron attached to your command, now, or are you bringing him back to me?"

Verstan smiled, and waved Huron forward. "We weren't sure you were here, after all - but if you're in need I'm sure he'll be willing to transfer over." Huron had aged in those few weeks, a stern expression replacing the amiable (but competent) one he had usually worn. Sa.s.sinak wondered if he felt the same about her - would he even want to come back? She shook herself mentally - he was telling her about his trip with the slaver transport, the horrible conditions they'd found, the impossibility of comforting all those helpless children, orphaned and torn from their homes. Her eyes filled with tears, as much anger and frustration at not having been able to stop it as grief from her own past. His s.h.i.+p had been short of rations - since it had been inbound, at the end of a planned voyage - and to the other miseries of the pa.s.sengers hunger and thirst had been added. Now he wanted to be in the a.s.sault team; as he had no regular a.s.signment on the flags.h.i.+p, he had requested permission to land with the marines.

"I'll come back, of course, if you need me," he said, not quite meeting her eyes. Sa.s.sinak sighed. Clearly his experience haunted him; he would not be content until he'd had slavers in his gunsight ... or gotten himself killed, she thought irritably. He wasn't a marine; he wasn't trained in ground a.s.sault; he ought to have more sense. In the long run he'd be better off if she ordered him back to the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan, and kept him safe.

"Huron - " She stopped when he looked straight at her. Captain to captain, that gaze went - he was no longer the compliant lover, the competent executive officer whose loyalty was first to her. She could order him back, and he would come - but without the self-respect, the pride, that she had learned to love. She could order him to her bed, no doubt, and he would come - but it would not be the Huron she wanted. He would have to fight his own battles awhile first, and later - if they had a later - they could discover each other again. She felt an almost physical pain in her chest, a wave of longing and apprehension combined. If something happened to him - if he were killed - she would have to bear the knowledge that she could have kept him out of it. But if she forced him to safety now, she'd have to bear the knowledge that he resented her.

"Be careful," she said at last. "And get some of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds for me."

His eyes brightened, and he gave her a genuine smile. "Thank you. Commander Sa.s.sinak. I'm glad you understand."

Whatever she did, the battle would be over by the time she got back to Fleet Sector Headquarters for refitting. Sa.s.sinak hoped her answering smile was as open and honest as his: she felt none of his elation.