enough to be your exec, but one who hasn’t acquired any polish along the way. That will be a tall order.”
Kas chuckled. “To paraphrase something the fleet admiral said to me, ‘If it was easy, anyone could do it.’”
Captain Froud struggled to maintain a straight face. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Kas thanked him and started to sign off, then hesitated. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep Evers isolated until we get back, or you get reports that we’ve failed. He’s a hater, and he knows too much. He knows the name of the ship, her captain, and the entire plan. I wouldn’t put it past him to sell or give the information to the Glory or one of the independents just for spite.”
The captain nodded. “I can take care of that. He’ll remain under quarters arrest in the BOQ, with a tap on his vid. Don’t worry. We’ll take no chances.'
Captain Froud was right. It wouldn’t be easy to find an innerworld exec with no polish. But this mission was hazardous enough without saddling himself with an XO unable to maintain objectivity. That trait bespoke a lack of discipline that Kas couldn’t tolerate. Then he thought about Admiral Lu-Jenks, and the crunch of the admiral's jaw when he hit him. Talk about lack of discipline…
Kas had watched the others during Evers’ bigoted comments during the meeting. All had looked uncomfortable, and none had made comments supporting his position. Tera Fauss had flushed with embarrassment. All of them had been victims of innerworlders’ discrimination but they hadn’t turned to hate. Judging by the records they compensated by trying to be better at their jobs. He was sure that none of them were as bigoted as the Arcadian.
Meanwhile, the officers destined to operate the Vir Rekesh began arriving. When all twenty-two had gotten settled in the BOQ, Kas called a meeting to explain the plan and their roles.
He watched carefully as they filed into the large conference room. He recognized only a few of them, but watched as heads bobbed and a buzz rose as he was identified to all. Some glanced at him with frank hostility, and several of them looked disturbed. But now was the time to raise neither the issue of Lu-Jenks nor of his Outie heritage. He’d be able to deal with it aboard the Rekesh, assuming they made it that far.
He was relieved to note that none of the officers forming his command staff aboard Rekesh seemed unduly bothered by his identity when he introduced himself. He was sure they’d be able to control their hotheads. And if not, well, a battle cruiser had a good-sized brig.
Many more of them looked disturbed at the news that they’d spend the trip out in cold sleep.
His words to Evers had been the bald truth. Kas wasn’t at all sure that he’d be willing to lie defenseless and unknowing while Starhopper might be fighting for their lives. No, they could scarcely be faulted for being worried. Any that climbed into cold sleep unit could hardly be called a coward.
“The records of the crewmen who’ve volunteered will be available on your terminals at the BOQ,” he concluded. “Review them carefully. If there appear to be problems, please bring them up now. Once we lift, we’re stuck with the people aboard, and the personnel files will no longer be available. We can’t afford to have them on the ship, in case we’re searched. We will have little aboard to link us to the Empire, and nothing to link us to the Fleet.”
A hand went up. “How long will we have, sir?”
Kas shrugged. “I can’t say exactly. We’ll lift as soon as the last of the crew and civilians arrive. Don’t anticipate any opportunity to talk to them until you’re awakened. As they arrive, they’ll be briefed, and then shuttled directly into a cold sleep unit. The shipyard simply doesn’t have accommodations for them.”
Another hand went up. A senior commander this time. “What about these civilians, sir? Are they really necessary?” He was frowning.
Kas grinned. “I’ll tell you what fleet Admiral Pankin told me. We have no choice. The Rekesh has been powered down for more than a century. Even her AI was shut down. Besides that, she’s a plague ship. Do you really want to man her without a medical decontam? Or perhaps have to fight her without a functional AI and with cold fusactors?”
The Commander smiled grimly. “No, sir. Do you really expect to have to fight her, Commodore?”
Kas’ grin faded. “I hope not. Even if we get her fully operational, her fighting crew strength is over three thousand. We’ll have less than three hundred, plus a bunch of scared civilians, and we’ll be a long way from home. The Alliance, the Glory and every independent system between here and there will want to take her from us.”
“Hah! The Empire wouldn’t stand for any such nonsense!” The voice was anonymous, but Kas decided to answer.
“The Rekesh is located near the edge of known space. To get back, we’ll have to pass through space claimed by the Alliance and half a dozen independents. I’ve tried to chart a course that’ll avoid the Glory, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be trying for us, too. The Empire has no grounds for protest if we simply disappear, and say, the Glory suddenly announces that they now possess a battle cruiser. Since we’ll be violating interstellar law by sending armed military personnel into nominally friendly governments’ space, our ambassadors wouldn’t even be able to ask about us — at least, not officially.”
Silence descended while the officers digested this last information, then a loud murmur arose as the officers considered the implications of Kas' statements. Many of them had been involved in border skirmishes and pirate interdiction combat, but a running fight through others' space in an undermanned ship was a new dimension. The Round Trip Ticket was a Fleet tradition so old it was said to predate star flight itself. Every member of the Fleet, officer or enlisted, learned during their basic training that everyone who joins the Fleet buys a round trip ticket. It was an article of faith that they, or their remains, would be returned to their home planet, regardless of the circumstances. The fleet went to amazing lengths to bring back Fleet personnel or their bodies. This time, if the fleet couldn’t even ask for the personnel or their bodies…
Kas allowed the discussions to go on for a few minutes before recalling the officers to order. He scanned the faces. There was excitement in a satisfyingly large percentage, but he also saw doubt and worry in more than a few. “This mission has to succeed,” Kas continued. “You’re all fleet officers. You’re well aware of what could happen if the Glory or one of the independents suddenly possessed a fully functional stellar class battle cruiser. It could destabilize all of known space. And the Rekesh was only twelve years old when she disappeared, practically a new ship. Imagine yourself on a destroyer sent on one of these interminable border skirmishes we’ve been fighting for the last fifty years. Suddenly the Rekesh shows up on the other side — perhaps manned by swords from the Glory.”
A shudder ran through nearly half the officers. Many of them had faced the fanatical ferocity of the Glory’s Missionaries and Swords of the Lord. Few were ever taken prisoner, and those that were taken with serious wounds would usually attempt suicide as soon as they were able. If they were unable to suicide, most fell into a pathetic apathy, not even responding when offered return to the Glory. Accordingly, the Glory took few prisoners. It was thought that the only fleet personnel taken prisoner were those considered to have been cowardly or otherwise dishonorable.
'We cannot fail,' Kas continued. “That’s an empire ship out there. We can’t let it be the cause of interstellar war.”
“Now,” he resumed, “You should have a few days before the first of the enlisted crewmen come aboard. Use it wisely. Fleet Admiral Pankin has given me unusually wide latitude on this mission; if you feel any of your personnel should be replaced, let me know. If we act fast enough, we may be able to replace them.”
By design, the senior petty officers were the first of the enlisted crewmen to arrive. They were assigned quarters, and briefed. Kas was pleased with them. Most were grizzled, no-nonsense veterans. These were the men that would anchor the crew, would provide the stability that would give the men the confidence to climb into those cold-sleep cabinets.
As the rest of the crew arrived, they were hurriedly briefed, given plain shipsuits and their luggage searched for anything that might identify the owner as fleet. That completed, they were marched to the ship, where they surrendered their ident disks before entering the cold sleep cabinets.
The closest thing to trouble that they had involved surrendering their disks. A loud murmur and dozens of hands went up when the men were told because the disks were closely identified with faith in the round trip ticket. A grizzled petty officer stood. “I served with you on the Revenge, Capt… uh… Commodore. Will you, personally, guarantee we’ll be getting our disks back when we wake up? I’ll take your word, sir.”
“This is an undercover operation,” Kas replied. “If we’re searched, they may insist on waking a few of you for questioning. That’s why it was important that you be briefed on the cover story. You’re street scrapings recruited
