I know. There was concern in the panther's thoughts. I'm sure she's okay. She's tough. She'll be there waiting for you.
Not just me. She loves you, too, you know.
I know, Hunter replied. There was playfulness lurking in his thoughts. But she'll have to settle with just you. She is really too small for me, and not nearly furry enough.
I didn't mean like that, you licentious bastard.
You know that calling me a bastard is redundant, Hunter thought with mental laughter. I thought we'd settled that. Not having parents kind of makes it a non-issue.
You're trying to make me laugh, aren't you?
Yes, actually. You've been too serious lately.
It's this secret war business, Tebrey thought soberly. Constantly having to watch our backs is wearing on me. I just want a target that we can go after and make it all be over. I think I would actually enjoy settling down with Ana and spending my life reading or something.
I doubt you'd be happy without something more active to do, but I know what you mean. As much as I enjoy killing – and I do, no denying that, I was made for it – I would like to be able to spend time looking for a mate.
Really?
Well, Hunter thought, you seem to really enjoy the benefits of having one. I would like to give it a try.
You really are in a mood, aren't you? Tebrey thought.
Picking it up from you, probably.
I've heard that many operatives with companions end up in the Concord. I'll help you find a mate, I promise. I'm not sure if you'll have a lot of options, but there have to be a few female neo-panthers in the Concord.
Three months?
And a few days, Tebrey replied, laughing. Hang in there, brother. If I can make, you can, too.
"It is an interesting concept, from a biological standpoint," Bauval said.
Everyone groaned. They'd gone over and over what Mandor had learned from the two strange Rhyrhans in the last three days, but they hadn't gotten any closer to having answers. They just had more questions.
"Well, Amber, you're the anthropologist. Does it make sense to you that Earth was visited in the past? Or that humans have been manipulated, genetically?"
"I really don't know anymore," Mason replied. "I wish Seshadri were with is."
"I'm sure that he is happier on Cedeforthy."
"No doubt," said Mason. "But it was his theories that led the expedition to Cedeforthy in the first place."
"And you did find things sleeping there," Mandor said quietly. "Things that might have slept for unknown millennia."
Mason shuddered. "I really don't like to think about that. Why couldn't the Rhyrhans be more specific?"
Because they're damn Zen cats, Mandor thought tiredly. "They said they didn't want to interfere that much in our actions. We have to make our own decisions. They just wanted us to be able to make informed decisions."
"So they give us just enough information to tease us?" Mason snapped.
"I'm not sure that they know much more about it."
"Then why bring it up?" Mason asked. "And why tell us about those Mo-whatever people?"
"Mo'Ceri," Mandor said. "I don't know. They said we would know about them soon enough."
"Not good enough."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Mandor. "Smack them around until they tell us?"
"Isn't that what you military types do?"
"If I could interrupt," said Bauval. He could tell Mason and Mandor were heading for an epic argument. "No matter what happened in the past, Thetas are a very real threat now. We're going to have to figure out a better way of fighting them, maybe even form a dedicated team to hunt them."
Mason shuddered. "You mean actually go after them? Can people take that kind of psychological abuse?"
"I've faced more than one," Mandor replied.
"Yeah, and look at the state you're in," said Mason.
Mandor ignored her. "I received word this morning that the Combine has finally accepted the Concord's proposal of unification," he said. "They are currently discussing with the Senate when it should formally take effect."
"That is certainly unexpected," Mason said. "How do you think the Earth Federation is going to react to the news?"
"If I had to guess, not well," said Mandor. "The Federation is afraid of us already. Adding the thirty-six star systems of the Combine to the Concord will give us one hundred thirty-seven systems. Ninety of which are heavily industrialized. The Federation has one hundred nineteen star systems under its control, but heavily industrialized ones comprise less than half. They'll still have us out-numbered in terms of population, but we have a definite technological and industrial advantage. Also, almost half of our population will be non-human."
"I'm guessing not well is an understatement, then."
"We'll be lucky if they don't declare war until the first of the year. I doubt it will take longer than that. The longer they wait, the better for us. They'll declare war before unification takes full effect, though. I guarantee it."
"Returning to the previous conversation," Ana interjected. This talk of war with the Federation made her uncomfortable. What would her husband do? "Do you believe what they told you about what the Thetas are?"
"I don't know," Mandor replied candidly. "I think it's what they believe, but that doesn't make it correct."
"It is a little hard to swallow," said Bauval.
"But what if it is true?" Ana asked. "How are we supposed to fight that?"
"I don't know," Mandor replied. "The way we have been, I guess. We know the damn things aren't invulnerable. They can be killed."
"Are you sure?" asked Mason.
"I'm sure," Mandor said. "I killed one once, years ago. Tebrey killed that one on Cedeforthy. Trust me, they can die."
Chapter Twenty-One
Jennifer Patterson was stacking chairs when the door chime rang behind her. It had been a slow night; a military-enforced curfew had that effect.
"Bar's closed," she said over her shoulder. She wasn't too worried. No one but locals ever came to her tavern. It was too run-down and didn't carry any offworld liquor, just homebrew beer and rotgut whiskey.
"I am not thirsty," a voice said in a husky contralto. "I'm here for the nightlife."
Jennifer paused and frowned without turning. That had been a passcode for the resistance a few months ago. Take it slow, she thought. Go with it and get to the bar. If they knew I was part of the resistance, they would have already moved against me.
"If you're not thirsty, you're in the wrong place. What kind of nightlife do you expect to find around here?" Jennifer walked behind the bar and turned to see who it was that had ruined her life.
The woman who'd come in was neither tall nor short at maybe one hundred seventy centimeters. She was curvy, although muscular and fit. She had short, wildly unkempt black hair, and her skin was covered with stark black tribal-style tattoos that shifted as Jennifer watched. Variable tattoos, she thought. The woman was dressed somewhere between a street-hooker and a gang member, in black leather with lots of spikes. She didn't look like a Federation agent. But how the hell would I know what an agent looked like?
"Oh, I wouldn't mind a drink and a fuck, especially if you're available tonight," the woman said as she sauntered over to the bar. She walked like she meant it, and she was good at it. "Hell, bring a friend."
Jennifer's hand closed on the flechette pistol she kept hidden under the bar. Her mind raced. There was some chance that the woman was exactly what she looked like, but that wasn't exactly good news, either. Gangers in town would be a complication the resistance didn't need. She was going to have to go into hiding if the woman didn't back off, because Jennifer would blow her damn head off if she made a wrong move. "Sorry, not my type, and like I said, the bar's closed."
"What if I insist? About the drink, that is," the woman said with a wink and a throaty chuckle.
"Then I'll dissuade you," said Jennifer. She raised the pistol. "I think you should leave."
"
Sorry, love, I've come too far for that," the woman replied. She didn't look particularly concerned, even though at that range the pistol would shred her. She rested her hands on the bar top and smiled. "Ghost, take her."
Jennifer had the impression of something huge and black hitting her before she lost consciousness.
Francesca brought the ship out of hyperspace eleven light-minutes from the bright orange star. Their destination lay on the other side of the sun from their entry point. One of the hazards of hyperspace travel: it was inaccurate. Altogether, they were three hundred forty-two million kilometers from New Kalieph. It would take the Marie ninety-five minutes to get there. Rachel returned to the bridge. Nancy gave her a little nod to indicate that what they had talked about earlier had been taken care of.
"Francesca, notify our passenger that we'll arrive at the planet in about an hour and a half." She turned in her chair. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll get off the ship," Rachel added to Nancy.
"Yes, Captain." Rachael thought there was a trace of reluctance in Francesca's electronic voice. Even the ship didn't like the man.
"What's the orbital traffic like?"
"Looks light," Nancy said. "Not surprising. These Frontier worlds don't see a lot of merchant shipments. There are a couple of Fleet ships in orbit, but with the Homndruu Loacree Empire this close, that's hardly surprising." She adjusted her displays. "Just one customs ship," she added.
"Broadcast our ID," Rachael said. "Let's be polite and let them know we're coming. I don't want those Fleet ships to think we're Homndruu or something."
Nancy laughed. "I would think that was unlikely."
The Homndruu had massive starships, the smallest many times the size of a Federation destroyer.
"Just do it. You never know with these military types. One of them might be trigger-happy or something."
Rachael waited for the message to crawl across the light-minutes to New Kalieph and patiently awaited the reply. The Marie traveled one hundred twenty-three million kilometers in the thirty-four minutes it took to receive the reply.
The message, when it came, made her wish she'd listened to her passenger.
"Concord vessel Marie, you are ordered to continue without deviation to New Kalieph."
"Where did they think we were going?" Nancy asked.
"I don't know. Shush."
"Your vessel is subject to impoundment under section 87-C of Interstellar Commerce Law. Any attempt to resist will be dealt with harshly." There was no give in the voice of the speaker. Rachael didn't know what was going on, but she didn't like it.
"The hell with this," she said suddenly. "No one is going to impound my ship. Francesca, calculate a new course to get us out to jump range again."
"Acknowledged, Captain."
"Rachael," Nancy said suddenly, "the two Fleet ships and the customs frigate just ignited their fusion drives. They're coming after us."
"Oh, drek," Rachael said. "What the hell is wrong with these people?"
"You don't think they know about our cargo, do you?"
"How could they?" asked Rachael. "And what difference would it make?"
"Maybe someone back at Beda talked..."
"How would they have gotten a signal here?" Rachael said. "Beda is too backward to have a hypercom."
"Good point. Do you think it could have anything to do with our passenger?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Maybe he is a spy or something. I mean, a million credits is a hell of a lot of money to pay for a trip. Why didn't he just book a normal flight?"
Rachel felt ill. She hadn't even considered that their passenger could be a criminal. She should have thought of it; she knew that. Well, it wasn't like he'd given her a lot of choice about taking him aboard.
"Captain," Francesca interrupted her thoughts, "our best option for reaching the hyperlimit, given our present speed, is to swing out away from the planet in a hyperbolic orbit. It will get us to the hyperlimit in fifty-seven-point-six minutes. We will be eleven light-minutes from New Kalieph when we transit."
"Do it," Rachael said without hesitation.
"Initiating new burn sequence," Francesca replied.
Rachael felt the subtle shift in acceleration as the ship altered course. "Francesca?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"How close are those Federation ships going to get?"
"Assuming they have reasonably competent navigators who figure out our best course, and factoring in the time it takes for our course change to be noted, it will take them forty-nine minutes to reach the area we are aiming for. Give or take a few minutes."
"So they're going to be there waiting for us," Rachael said softly. The Federation Fleet was a lot of unmentionable things, but incompetent wasn't one of them. Her mouth went suddenly dry. "Is there anything we can do to go faster?"
"Let me think about it," replied Francesca.
"Maybe we should just surrender now," Nancy suggested.
"Give Francesca a chance," Rachael said. "We have some time yet."
The minutes went by, and the tension on the bridge became almost unbearable.
"Captain," Francesca said finally. "I may have something, but I'm not sure if it is a good thing. You may want to consider the co-pilot's suggestion."
"Just tell me what you came up with," Rachael demanded.
"Very well, Captain." Francesca paused. "Our maximum speed is contingent on two factors. One is engine life. Civilian fusion engines are not meant for constant acceleration. We could force them to do so, but it is going to seriously degrade the life of the engines, and possibly destabilize the plasma containment."
"Can we do it safely?"
"I believe so."
"What was the second factor, Francesca?"
"The drive system safety interlocks on civilian ships keep internal forces from climbing above one-point-five standard gravities during acceleration. If those safeties are overridden, we can obtain a much higher acceleration, since we won't suffer as much frame-dragging."
"How much higher?"
"Seven gravities will allow us to reach a point closer to the hyperlimit than before, in twenty-seven minutes. That will place us outside weapons range of the Fleet vessels at the time of transition."
"Can the human body resist that?" Nancy asked.
"Records indicate that the human body can withstand that level of acceleration for a short time period. There is a slight risk of aneurism, and you will not be happy for a week or two afterward due to pulled muscles and bruises. As long as you stay in the acceleration couches, no major injuries should occur."
"Great," Nancy muttered.
"Tell Marty and our passenger what we're going to do, and then pick a random system for us to jump to. Make the transition as soon you can."
"Yes, Captain."
"Rachael," said Nancy, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"No," Rachael replied. "But I'm not going to let them impound my ship, either. I don't know what's going on, but I don't think it has anything to do with us or our passenger. There was actual malice in the customs official's voice when he called us a Concord ship. Maybe those two are at war now or something."
"What a pleasant thought. You’re always my ray of sunshine, Rachael."
"Hey, I'm the sarcastic one. You're the plucky sidekick."
"Of course. How could I have forgotten?"
"Acceleration to commence in ten seconds, Captain," Francesca announced dispassionately.
Chapter Twenty-Two
"Admiral on deck!" The sergeant's words were punctuated by the shrill electronic piping of the bosun's whistle.
Fleet Admiral Kasimira Meleeka smiled to herself at the inanity of those damn whistles, a holdover from wooden ship days. And not one of the good ones, she thought. She returned the captain's salute and then shook hands with him.
"Welcome aboard, Admiral. It is nice to finally meet you."
"Thank you, Captain."
"Would you like a tour of the ship?"
"No, thank you." All captains liked to show off their ships, as if visiting dignitaries didn't have anything else to do but tour a ship just like the hundreds they'd been on before. "I'd like to get right to business."
"Of course," Captain Singh answered. If he was offended, he hid it well. "Let me introduce my senior officers to you. My XO, Lt. Commander Mary Santiago; Dr. Simon Akvita, my medical chief; Lt. Commander Calvin Smith, Thirty-Ninth Marine Brigade, Second Division, First Company." He paused then for her to catch up. "And of course you already know Lt. Commander Hrothgar Tebrey and his companion Hunter."
"How do you do, Commander Tebrey?"
"Well, thank you, Admiral. It is good to see you again."
She knew that wasn't entirely true. She'd seen the reports from Serendipity, and the recording from his suit. The man was lucky to be alive. Meleeka was struck, as always, by Tebrey's apparent youth, so at odds with his remarkable service record. Hunter was remarkable as well. He was much larger than the pre-programmed size of standard neo-panthers. She had also been told that Tebrey's companion showed a wider deviation in his personality from that of his partner. Hunter was as unique as Tebrey himself.
Captain Singh led Meleeka and his officers into a secure briefing room and got everyone settled. She had a lot to go over with them.
It was going to be a long day.
Tebrey studied the Admiral with interest. She'd aged in the months since he'd last seen her. He didn't think it was entirely from stress, either. There was something about her that suggested she'd been subjected to the same dark forces he'd encountered. He couldn't imagine where she would have, though. She hadn't looked like that before.
"I'd like to start by thanking each of you for your trust. I know these are trying times for the Earth Federation, but with the aid of loyalists such as yourselves, we can pull through it. I would also ask that you not be intimidated by my rank and position within the Admiralty. I worked my way up through the ranks fighting against the Homndruu. I know what it is like to be a junior officer at one of these meeting. If you have something to add, I want to hear it, even if it goes against me." Admiral Meleeka smiled reassuringly and sat back, sipping her glass of water.
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