squirmed excitedly in his chair.
Pankin smiled and nodded at Kas’ obvious excitement. “I thought you’d approve. At any rate, over the next few months I’ll find reasons to call the officers from the second list in so I can meet them. I want to confirm my analysis and form my own impressions. When the shoe drops the fleet must be led by competent, effective officers.” His smile faded. “We’ll need the best when the fighting starts.”
Kas’ excitement disappeared. He leaned forward with a frown. “Are you sure about the fighting, sir?”
Pankin nodded, his expression grim. “The only things we don't know are the timing and our opponents. I must admit I’d look forward to ganging up on that abomination calling itself the ‘Glory’”. His eyes narrowed with a predatory smile.
Kas’s frown darkened. “I hate to think about war with the Alliance, sir. They know everything there is to know about our equipment, weapons and even our tactics. They also know which officers are competent. My Alliance friends are my friends but if fighting breaks out they’ll fight, and fight with everything they’ve got.”
Pankin straightened and his hand smacked the desktop. “I hope one day soon they can say the same things about us. At the moment, the comps say they’d beat us hands down. That's why we must replace the incompetent officers. Besides preventing the waste of fleet lives, I want officers with the imagination and the initiative to improvise and to develop new tactics — tactics the Alliance knows nothing about.”
Kas straightened attentively. “Yes, sir. We’ve got them outgunned. But they have a leadership edge as well as a technological edge that we’ll never match.”
The Admiral slammed his hand on the desktop again, and sprang to his feet. “Damn it! You’re right, of course. Their star is rising, while ours is setting. That’s why I’m trying to divert the action to somewhere like the Glory where the Alliance can stay neutral or even ally with us.” He scowled and started pacing again. “Of course, chances are that even if we go to war against the Glory and win, those five systems will end up part of the Alliance. The old empire isn’t even dynamic enough to absorb five new systems. Or reabsorb five old ones.” He continued pacing for a moment, then seemed to realize he was doing it. He stopped, grunted, and returned to his desk.
“Now,' he said in a businesslike tone. 'some advice. It will take time to get rid of the dead wood. Meanwhile, those officers still wield a lot of authority. I can’t apply too much pressure without damaging the chain of command and you’re going to need an intact command structure.
“Almost every flag officer in the fleet will be gunning for you as a result of your little dustup with Lu-Jenks. Keep your head down and your mouth shut! Don’t provoke another court-martial because I may not be able to find a technicality I can use to bail you out.” Pankin smiled. “I will, however, make you a little harder to hit. Whether or not your career survives is up to you.' His tone softened. 'Take care, Captain. Don’t screw it up.
'Now,' he continued “to more immediate matters. Does the name Vir Rekesh mean anything?”
“The man or the ship?”
Pankin chuckled. “The ship.”
Kas shrugged. “One of the great mysteries of the fleet. Stellar Class battle cruiser. She disappeared over a century ago. She… Sheol! Don’t tell me they’ve found her.”
Pankin smiled again. “Exactly. She’s drifting unpowered in a rim system with her plague beacon running.”
“Plague? Uh…”
Another chuckle. “Relax Captain. It seems that one of the last survivors was her Third Lieutenant.” Pankin’s voice softened. “He was a remarkable young man. I wish I’d been able to meet him.' Pankin straightened, and his voice resumed its businesslike tone 'Anyway, he and the other last survivors went completely through the ship, wedging open doors and hatches. They shut down systems and fusactors, shutting down more and more systems as the crew died.”
Pankin sighed deeply. “When only two crewmembers remained, the Third shut down the life support and even the ship’s Artificial Intelligence so it wouldn’t go insane in isolation. They suited up, and went around to all of the ship’s airlocks. The Third took the main lock himself. Then they opened the ship to space. The idea was to expose the entire ship to the hard vacuum and absolute zero of space in hopes of killing the plague bug.
Kas shook his head in wonder. “A gutsy man! I hope he gets the hero treatment he deserves.”
Pankin nodded. “The Emperor is plans to present an Empire Star after you being him back.”
Kas startled and his eyes shone with excitement. “You want me to bring back the Rekesh?”
“Exactly,' the grand admiral replied. 'But it’s not going to be as easy as it may appear. You’ll have competition.”
“Competition?”
Pankin frowned and started to rise, then caught himself and sat back down. “She was located by a tramp trader. Her captain investigated and went aboard as far as the lock. He found the Third’s body clutching a box of memory chips and ident disks. The captain grabbed it and retreated to his ship to play the log crystal. He was also well aware of the meaning of the ident discs.
“Naturally the trader’s crew knew they were rich. The salvage value of a battle cruiser will make all of them fabulously wealthy even after they fight the claims commission. So, they forgot their original mission and boosted for Prime, celebrating all the way in. They hit the bars in every port town, bragging about their find.”
Pankin leaned forward, his expression intense. “A lot of people listened. Judging by the sudden increase in military ship traffic, most of the independent systems and even our friends in the Glory are determined to find the Rekesh before we do.”
Kas licked his lips. This mission was sounding more difficult every moment. “I can understand that. Anyone with a battle cruiser would become one of the big boys. Even the Alliance would be interested.”
The stylus rolled as Pankin slammed the desktop again. “They are. The tramp’s crew was careful not to divulge the coordinates, and the captain claims that they took a roundabout return course to protect the secret. After all, if someone else got there first…' he shrugged and grimaced. 'It’s just too bad they weren’t more discreet. That’s liable to cause you serious problems.”
Kas shook his head and suppressed his own urge to pace. “So,' he said in a tone tinged with irony, 'I’ll be leading a caravan of military vessels from all over inhabited space, all hoping to beat me to the prize — or to take it away. With the Rekesh completely dead that may not be too hard, especially if a few of them gang up.”
Pankin laughed aloud. “Sheol, Captain, if it were easy, any of our parade ground popinjays could do it!” His expression sobered. “I know what I’m asking, but we must get the Rekesh back. Or destroy her. If one of the Independent Systems gets her — or the Glory — it could destabilize known space and precipitate that war I was talking about. And we’re not ready.
“I’ve done what I can. We can’t send you on another battle cruiser or any other military vessel for that matter. Sending a military vessel into someone else’s space is called invasion; and there’s no real chance anyone would give us permission. They want to get there first, remember?”
Pankin rose and began pacing again. Kas suppressed a smile. He wondered how often they had to replace Pankin's carpet. He sobered as Pankin continued, “We have to get sneaky,” Pankin continued. “Now, that’s not something we’re particularly good at, but we have to try. We’ve refitted a DIN-class combat hauler for you. They've been around for centuries, and surplus hulls are common. She’s military surplus, not military, which means she’s not armed — officially.”
He stopped, and his gaze was unreadable as it settled on Kas. “We have gone to some trouble to conceal weapons systems, but we had to be careful. If you're boarded and your weapons spotted, you’d be shot as pirates. Or identified as fleet, which would be worse.”
Kas’s frown was back. “It takes over a hundred people to make a skeleton crew for a stellar class. It takes about four to run a DIN class. How can I explain that many people?”
Pankin resumed pacing. “We’ve thought about that. You’re still going to have to use that famous imagination of yours. Starhopper is being fitted with some three hundred fifty cold-sleep units. Your papers will indicate you’ve contracted to provide colonists for a colony being founded by Farterra. Fake, of course, so you’ll have to steer well clear of Farterra. The papers will show your cargo is the gutter-scrapings from half a dozen Empire worlds. Being an outerworlder will actually help. Your crew will be outerworlder as well.”
Again he stopped and turned to Kas. “We can't do that with the crew for the Rekesh. Battle cruisers are glamorous assignments. Wealthy families buy billets for their playboy sons. I’ve done what I can. I had my chief of staff, Captain Froud; select volunteers with technical competence. Since Froud cannot be bribed, I think you’ll find them to be the best we have.”
