close abeam filled his view. Before he had time to react, George executed a number of micro jumps.
“Shut off the beacon,” he yelled to George.
“Already done, Tom.”
The micro jumps continued without any input from him. George was at his finest this day.
Sergeant Jacobs ran a scanner over Krys and was not happy with the results. “I have some red indications in her brain again. These are a little different, worse I think, but I don’t know what they mean.”
Tarn leaned over her and spoke softly, frightened at the pallid look of her skin. “If you can hear me Krys, we need to know what Maelia needs to help you. Should we put you back into the tank?”
“No tank… just time,” she mumbled.
Tarn stood up and looked at Jacobs. “I trust her Rider. Check her every hour for improvement. If she gets worse, we’ll put her back into the tank anyway.”
She improved, and by the next day some of the scanner indications had cleared, but definitely not all of them. Sergeant Jacobs woke him. “She’s asking for you, Tarn.”
He rose from his chair and leaned over her, taking her hand. “I’m here, Krys.”
Her hand squeezed his, but he could barely feel the increased pressure. “Vision,” she mumbled. “Gleasons… aboard traders… attacking Korban.” That was all the energy she had. Her hand relaxed in his, and she slept again.
Jacobs ran the scanner over her again. “She’s still with us, Tarn.”
“I think her Rider woke her up just long enough to give us the message, then took her down again. If she needed anything from us, she would have said so. I’m going to the bridge.”
He found M’Sada on duty. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked.
M’Sada answered from within the net. “Probably sleeping. How is she?”
“Not good. Where are we headed?”
“Shipyard. They’ll have the right medical help, and we need to get that hypercom to them.”
“Set course for Orion III, then get all the officers up here for a meeting.”
M’Sada left the net and turned to Tarn, his upper hands busily preening. “Are you serious? The battle for Orion III is over.”
“I’m serious. How far out are we?”
“A lot farther than we were a couple of days ago. At least three days.”
“Step on it, my friend. She’s had another vision.”
When everyone gathered, Tarn briefed them. “Krys has had a vision. Korban is about to be attacked by gleasons. It appears they’re approaching aboard traders.”
This time, instead of a puff, a short flame came from Stven’s nostrils. “Gleasons! We can’t fight them!”
“Maybe not, but we can warn Korban. He can alert the Imperial Marines. If we’re in time, maybe he can take out the traders before they land.”
“Chessori traders?”
“I don’t know. Krys might be able to give us more information later.”
M’Sada spoke. “Maybe we should go to Chandrajuski. We could bring back some help.”
“Going all the way to Parsons’ World, then back again, will take weeks, and we’re not certain he’s even there. We’re going to alert Korban, then go find Chandrajuski.”
“We need my brothers,” Borg spoke up. “No one else will have a chance against the gleasons. How many are there?”
“I don’t know, but she inferred several ships.”
“Too many. They must not be allowed to land. Stopping those ships must be our first priority if the sector is to hold.”
Akurea taught George everything she could of the Chessori language, both written and oral. After cautioning him to guard against infection from the Chessori computer, she plugged him in to it. Within a few minutes, the computer accepted a password, and she was in.
She beamed. “Thank you, George. Good job!”
“My pleasure, Akurea.”
She spent days going through the computer before attempting to begin a translation. O’Brien passed by her quarters after going off duty one night and found her slumped over her desk, sound asleep. He stared at the ugly screen briefly, then woke her.
“Hey, young lady, it’s late. Time for bed.”
She groaned, then sat up. “Young lady! I’ll bet I’m as old as you are, but you’re right. Good night, Captain.”
When Resolve dropped from hyperspace on the outskirts of Orion III, they tight-beamed Korban. When he came on the display, Tarn was shocked at the aging, shrunken visage of the man he and Krys had last met. As Krys had predicted, time had not been kind to the sector commander. He had paid a high price to hold.
“You held, sir,” Tarn said in greeting.
“Everything she predicted has come to pass. The battle for Orion III has been won.”
“I’m afraid your battle is not yet over, sir. Struthers has hired gleasons, and they’re coming for you. They might already be here aboard traders.”
Korban’s eyes narrowed. “It’s retribution. Struthers is setting an example for what will happen to sectors that oppose him.”
“You could be right, sir. If that’s the case, you are their target.”
“The gleasons will just be the first wave. Behind them will come replacement admirals, a new governor, and lots of ships. Chandrajuski took nearly all of my ships, and I have not yet replaced them. I’ll send word to him that I need reinforcements.”
“We can get the word to him, sir.”
Korban stared at him for a time as he considered. “Will you consider staying for a while? Chandrajuski left me with a fast ship. I’ll send it.”
“Sir, we’re on another mission at the moment, and it’s critical.”
“So is this sector. The Queen’s forces have not gone to all this trouble just to lose it now. The two of you have ways of helping that no one can predict. Stick around for a few day. Let’s see what develops.”
He cut the connection, and Tarn and Stven looked at each other. “What do you think?” Tarn asked.
“Our duty is done here,” Stven mused. “On the other hand, he’s right. There’s a lot at stake here. A few days won’t matter. I wonder what Krys would say?”
“Let’s find out.”
Sick bay became filled with bodies of various descriptions as they descended upon her. She was on her feet, but she was blind.
Her eyes remained closed as she spoke. “I see them, Tarn. I see them in my mind, three of them.”
“Three what?”
“Three traders. I believe they are the ones carrying the gleasons.”
“How can you see them, Krys?”
“I don’t know, but I sense them. Get me into the net, and I’ll identify them for you. Hurry!”
Tarn led her to the central shaft, then up to the bridge. He placed a helmet on her head, then all of them joined the net, but George could not configure the net for her, a first in his experience.
Everyone unplugged, and Tarn removed her helmet. “I’m sorry, Krys, but you’ll have to get better before he can accept you.”
