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Command Decision

Page 27

by Elizabeth Moon


  By the time she and Pitt got to her office, a tray with soup and a pile of sandwiches was on her desk, along with a carafe of water and another of coffee. Ky flipped open the packet Pitt had handed her and sipped from the mug of soup. Colonel Kalin had given her his main concerns: time insystem until the other Mackensee ships arrived, the mines at the jump-point entry, the possibility that more pirates would arrive before the relief ships did…

  “How likely do you think another incursion is?” Pitt asked.

  “Less likely now than before,” Ky said. “Their observer will have reported that their forces were wiped. If they’d won…they might have brought in more to attack your other ships when they came. Of course, they may see this as a chance to attack us. Metaire’s suffered some damage, expended a lot of ammunition—and no, I’m not asking how much is left. It’s not my business. But I’m guessing that full as she is of wounded and overcrowded with the rest of the other crew, she won’t fight at her best.”

  “That’s true, unfortunately.” Pitt sipped at the glass of water Ky had poured her. “So that leaves your three larger ships and the little ones…what’s happened to Ransome’s boarding attempt, by the way?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t reported in. I’ll check now.” Ky turned to the ansible, entered Courageous’ code, and the screen lit with the face of a crewman.

  “Captain Vatta,” he said. His gaze slewed sideways, clearly to another screen on the bridge. “Captain Ransome’s not here…”

  “He left the ship?” Ky said.

  “Yes, ma’am. He led the boarding party, like he always does.”

  Ky managed not to say what she was thinking; Pitt’s expression said it for her. “I see,” she said instead. “Do you have any word on the progress of the boarding?”

  “There’s resistance,” the man said. “Uh—but they just now got through an air lock—”

  “You will keep me informed,” Ky said.

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. As soon as they take the ship, I’ll let you know.”

  Or as soon as they didn’t, and were dead. Ky closed the connection. “That idiot,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Cannon fodder,” Pitt said. “Brave, though. I hate hostile boardings, myself.”

  Ky finished reading the material Kalin had sent. “I’ve put together a packet for you to take back,” she said. “And it does not escape my irony detector that we are sending messages by hand in an era when instantaneous universal communication is—was—common.”

  “Well…it’s secure if no one takes it out of my hand, which no one is going to do,” Pitt said. She took the packet Ky handed over, slid it into a pocket on her suit. “If I could just make the suggestion, ma’am…I know some very reliable people in my unit, and we could spread this duty around.”

  “I know,” Ky said. She had, in the course of reading Kalin’s report, finished the soup and eaten half a sandwich. Her mind felt as if she had just walked through a veil into clear air. “I was just—a bit fuzzy. Tell me who you’d like to have on the job; I’ll accept your assessment.”

  “It’ll keep my people busy if we rotate it. When you call for a courier, someone will be there.”

  “Captain Vatta! Captain Ransome wants you to know that they’re in the ship but resistance continues!”

  “Thank you,” Ky said.

  “He’ll let you know when he’s completed the capture,” Ransome’s crewman said.

  “Tell him to watch out for people dropping out of the overheads and coming up through the decks,” Ky said.

  “How did you—he said something about that.”

  “It’s what I did the last time we were boarded,” Ky said.

  “Oh…I’ll tell him,” the man said, and cut the connection.

  “The last time you were boarded?” Pitt said. “When was that?”

  “Gretna Station, before we went to Adelaide. They’ve got a nasty little scam going: first they charge the earth for dock privileges, local identification, and air, and then, just as you leave, they attack. Their idea, as near as I can tell, is to get back everything they sold you to resell to the next unfortunate, hand your ship over to the pirates, and take your crew as indentured workers on trumped-up charges. And in the meantime, your credits are in their account.”

  “Slavers,” Pitt said.

  “Good as,” Ky said. “My medical team came from there—medical personnel on their way to some kind of meeting, sold as general labor.”

  “You bought them?” Pitt said, looking horrified.

  “It was the only way to get them out,” Ky said. “Freed them as soon as they were aboard, of course; some elected to stay in Adelaide, but the ones I have now stayed because they wanted to.” She finished off another sandwich. “Anyway, they attacked all three of our ships. They weren’t amateurs, either. They knew how to go about it—attacked while we were too close to the station to use the beam weapons, and their shuttles were inside the fusing limits of our missiles. Luckily, this ship’s full of useful passages, and though it got messy, we evicted them handily. They expected to be in control before we got far enough away to use our forward beam…but they weren’t.”

  “You blew the station?”

  “No…not everyone there was part of the scam, I’m sure. The other indentured workers, for one thing. But I scorched ’em and destroyed their communications masts, so they couldn’t tell their remote platforms to burn us on the way out.”

  Pitt shook her head. “I know I told you, back then, that you were cut out for the military, but now I think I underestimated you…must’ve been that head injury. You’re implant-linked now, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Ky said. “That was another…interesting moment. But a story for another day. You’ll want to see your people and set up a rotation, I’m sure.”

  “That I will. Thank you, Captain. I can find my own way—”

  When Pitt had left, Ky stared at her desk for a long moment. The clarity a meal had given her had worn off. She started to call up to the bridge just as Hugh put his head in. “Captain—you’re still up?”

  “Of course I’m up,” Ky said. “Why?”

  “Because you’ve been up more than a day. May I suggest a few hours’ sleep?”

  “I haven’t had a final report from Ransome. And we know the enemy might be jumping in—”

  “And you’ll cope better if you’re even more exhausted?”

  “You’re right,” Ky said, pushing back from the desk. She felt as if the artificial gravity had been notched up. A lot.

  “I was off for four hours…”

  She barely heard him as she headed for her cabin.

  When she woke, she realized she’d fallen asleep in her clothes and had a kink in her neck. Muttering, she went into the shower, emerging in a few minutes awake and eager to find out what had happened to Teddy Ransome. Her implant reported all ship functions normal. She dumped the clothes she’d had on in the ’fresher, dressed, and headed for the bridge.

  “Captain Ransome reports he has the enemy ship under control,” Hugh reported. “He was a little disappointed not to speak to you personally from its bridge once he figured out how to reset their ansible for our channels, but I explained that you had important other duties and would get back to him.”

  “Sleep is a duty?” Ky said, grinning.

  “For combat commanders, yes. Whenever they can get it without imperiling the mission.”

  “I think it’s a duty for executive officers, too, Hugh. I know you’re made of tougher material than the rest of us, but it’s your turn—”

  “And I’m going,” he said. “Shall I send up something to eat?”

  “An excellent idea,” Ky said.

  “Oh—and no other stealthed ships have been located,” Hugh said as he left the bridge.

  She contacted Colonel Kalin, who looked as much more rested as she herself felt, on tight-beam.

  “If you left now, could you intercept your people before they jumped in here?” she asked. />
  “Not likely. They were going—well, I can’t say where, but coming here they’d be doing serial jumps through several points.”

  “Well, it was a thought,” Ky said. “Do you want me to blow those mines at the jump point?”

  “No…it’s our habit to come in carefully. You aren’t leaving, are you?”

  “Not while I have your personnel aboard several of our ships.”

  “I still need to talk to you about your base of support—”

  “And I still prefer to wait until we’re in a secure location.”

  “Your people didn’t find another stealthed observer—”

  “Colonel, I am perhaps too suspicious, but I do not think that not finding something means it’s not there.”

  “Wow!” That was her com officer. “They did it!”

  “Who did what?” Ky asked, turning to look.

  “Bassoon. They got the system ansible on. Look at the icon.”

  “The ansible came on!” Colonel Kalin said in her comunit. “Was that your people?”

  “I think—just a minute, I’m getting a report.” Ky clicked off on that circuit and switched on the shipboard ansible. “Captain Pettygrew?”

  “Sorry it took so long, Captain Vatta, but my tech said it was a bit more than a stuffed mailbox. She had to go EVA and get physical with it. I wouldn’t let her go until she’d had some sleep.”

  “That’s fine—I’m impressed. Tell her so for me. Have you tried making an actual call?”

  “I don’t know who—I guess we can call up the index…there. We can talk to Adelaide, and from there to anyplace they’re connected.”

  “Colonel Kalin,” Ky said to him. “The ansible is indeed up—Captain Pettygrew’s best technician fixed it. You can try contacting your people—”

  “And we can expect ISC to come down on us like a storm,” Kalin said, frowning. “We had a huge assessment over that Sabine mess, even though it was only held in escrow. This time—”

  “You didn’t do anything; my people did,” Ky said.

  “Yes, well, I don’t suppose you’ll get off lightly, either. And they may assume we’re part of that.”

  “I doubt it,” Ky said. “We’ve been involved with ansible repairs before—with an ISC agent who was traveling with us, until he went back to Nexus to report. As near as we could tell, ISC didn’t even notice that their ansibles were repaired, though I’m sure they will eventually. He thought they were probably overwhelmed by the amount of sabotage.”

  “He probably had an authorization code,” Kalin said. “Did he give it to you?”

  “No,” Ky said. “He never said anything about a code.”

  “I wouldn’t expect him to,” Kalin said. “Our people asked, when the ansibles went down, about using our techs to help with repair. The local ISC office told us that we couldn’t—that we must not, in fact—because we didn’t have the correct authorization codes and they weren’t about to give them to us.”

  “Well, they can come after me,” Ky said. “And I’ll tell them about Rafe. Besides, they’re going to have more to worry about than someone being overhelpful—”

  “So I gather from that material you sent. Is this something we can talk about, since we’re on tight-beam?”

  “I would think so—as close as we are, laser com should be secure enough even if there is another observer in the system. I would prefer we not name the articles, even though they know I have them.”

  “Good,” Kalin said. “I have a few questions. Did the articles originate with the same firm?”

  “According to my informant, yes. But the articles as they now exist were modified, by an unknown source, and distributed to the persons you’d least like to see have them.”

  “Did the ships that attacked us have them?”

  “Almost certainly,” Ky said. “The stealthed one did. The ones that attacked us before—long story, details to follow—did. I found a supply of them on this ship, sufficient to suggest that a regular trade in them was ongoing.”

  “Oh…my.” From his expression, that had not been his first choice of words. “What will be the original firm’s official reaction to their use, do you think?”

  “My contact was horrified, but recognized the reality that the tech was already out in the universe, in use. I expect they’ll adjust somehow; they always have.”

  “I still worry about ISC’s reaction to anyone’s messing with system ansibles, even to repair them. We’ve assumed the outages weren’t their fault, but if they had some reason for it—”

  “I know that one of my surviving relatives on Slotter Key got the Slotter Key system ansible repaired,” Ky said. “If they go after Aunt Grace, they’ll put their hand in a buzz saw.”

  Kalin raised his brows, then shrugged. “I hope you’re right. We don’t need any more trouble. Still, I’ve had my communications techs send messages to the intermediate jump points. We might catch our people that way, let them know what happened, though it’s uncertain. There do seem to be more system ansibles up and working than when we left.”

  “If enough systems get impatient and fix them, ISC won’t have the resources to punish them all,” Ky said.

  “We can hope,” Kalin said. “Meanwhile…I’m not sure I’ve thanked you properly for your help. You saved our skins, that’s for sure.”

  “We were lucky this time,” Ky said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Kalin said. “You made all the right moves. Economical and tidy, as battles go. That’s unusual with an inexperienced officer commanding. Pitt says we tried to recruit you, back at Sabine…”

  “Yes, but I had a contract to fulfill,” Ky said. She tried to imagine what it would have been like to be in Mackensee when her family was killed, and shook that thought away quickly.

  “Yes—Pitt said your refusal was for honorable reasons. And now you’re in another military organization. I rather wish we’d caught you in the interim.”

  “Then I wouldn’t have been here,” Ky said. “But thanks for the sentiment.”

  “Point taken. All right, back to the…articles. Pitt said you wanted to know if we were interested. Of course we are, but are you interested in sharing? What does your command think about that?”

  “Considering that the pirates already have it and our side needs it,” Ky said, “we’re more than just ‘interested’ in sharing. There are a couple of possibilities: direct purchase or license to produce…”

  “You hold the patents? I thought you said the…um…original firm—”

  “I can put you in touch with the office working on that issue,” Ky said. Stella wouldn’t be overjoyed about that unless she’d gotten the answers she wanted, but she might be able to satisfy him that they had some legitimacy. “You might be able to relay through to them from here.”

  “I’ll have to talk to my commanders first,” Kalin said. “We have procedures—and I’m sure the Old Man wouldn’t want us using illegal technology—”

  “Not even if it gave your enemies such an advantage?” Ky asked. “After all, you were attacked by these pirates.”

  “I know, I know,” Kalin said. “But you have to understand—surely you have rules in your organization as well. Discipline is the core of military success; we can’t just do whatever we want.”

  Unlike Slotter Key’s Spaceforce, Pettygrew’s tech didn’t know that system ansibles had an auto response when restored to service with or without the proper authorization code. As the ansible’s onboard AI regained control of its functions, its first message went out to all functioning ansibles, with relay-to-headquarters headers. Setting up the linkage from there to Adelaide to Nexus II took only seconds; the message itself took immeasurably less time. At ISC headquarters, in the status room, the watch staff noted that relay ansible Boxtop-zip-figaro 112 was back online, restored to service by an unauthorized intruder. They already knew about the Slotter Key ansible repair.

  Pettygrew received the return message from Nexus II requesting identifica
tion within minutes. His comtech reported that Captain Vatta was in conference with the Mackensee commander; he shrugged and decided to answer the query himself. “Tell ’em it’s Space Defense Force, Third Fleet, light cruiser Bassoon,” he said. “They won’t have a clue who that is.” Almost immediately, a response came back.

  “You are in violation of the Uniform Commercial Code, which prohibits any tampering with ISC installations, including attempts to repair faulty ansibles. This message is your legal notice of violation, and will be forwarded to the appropriate jurisdiction for adjudication. Note: ISC has no reference documentation for the so-called Space Defense Force; as of this date, it will be listed as an outlaw organization. To change this listing, supply documentation proving legitimacy under a recognized system and a legal business address.”

  “Oh…dear.” Pettygrew and his bridge crew looked at one another. “I’m afraid we kicked an anthill. Captain Vatta isn’t going to be happy about this.”

  “Well, we sort of knew ISC didn’t like people meddling with their stuff…”

  “They should fix it faster, then,” Pettygrew said. “Let’s see if I can shake some sense into them.” He thought a moment, and sent: “This is an emergency situation. Pirates attacked helpless ships in this system. Many casualties. We attempted emergency repair of ansible to call for help.”

  The response was not encouraging: “There is no legal justification for tampering with ISC equipment under any circumstances. As we have no record of any Space Defense Force, we have no reason to believe that this so-called report is anything more than a fabrication, an attempt to evade the legal consequences of illegal actions.”

  “Something just stripped our beacon,” one of the bridge crew said. “I think it was the ansible…”

  “Your beacon data have been appended to the charges we are filing,” the message went on. “You will be apprehended in any system and held for adjudication. Further attempts to contact this facility will result in additional evidence being stored against you. That is all.” The contact blanked.

 

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