Rekesh myself.”
Lady Jane took Ro-Lecton in hand for an accelerated vacuum-suit qualification.
Chapter 9
Kas called a crew meeting. “I’m concerned about security,” he began. “If that alarm we set went off right now, we’d be nearly helpless. Oh, we’d have time to get the lasers on-line, but they wouldn’t be much protection against a frigate or destroyer.”
Lady Jane was frowning. “You don’t really believe that the navies of the Alliance or the independents would attack us, do you, Kas? I mean, well, maybe the Glory. They consider anyone who doesn’t share their beliefs less than human. But the others…”
Rom snorted. “I know Admirals in the Imperial Fleet who wouldn’t be above a bit of murder for a prize like the Rekesh!”
Kas nodded. “Rom is right. The skipper who brought the Rekesh back to one of the independents would be a planetary hero. Nobody would bother asking uncomfortable questions.”
“So,” he continued, “It’s essential that we get some protection. Toj, how long before that bio lab is operational?”
The big man frowned in thought. “I should have it ready by lunch tomorrow. Then we can decompress the cargo bay to test for leaks.”
Kas nodded again. “All right. As soon as you can, decompress. If there’re no leaks leave the bay in vacuum and run out the lasers. They’re not much protection, but they’re what we’ve got.”
He turned to Rom. “We’ll be going aboard the Rekesh tomorrow, Rom. If possible we want to try to get some of her weaponry on line. I also want to shut off that damned plague beacon. We homed on it, so could someone else. Gran, I’d like to have you along, but you’re going to be tied up with reviving cold-sleepers for some time. Rom, Toj and I will have to handle it.”
Rom nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem, sir. I’m sure we can rig something.”
Toj shifted uncomfortably. “It may be harder than you think, sir,” he rumbled. “The weapons systems have three independent fusactors powering them. One powers the port and one the starboard laser and particle beam weapons. The third is much larger, and provides power and plasma for the plasma cannons. And then, of course, there's the big one that powers the shields.” He shrugged. “Getting the fusactors on-line should be fairly straightforward, especially if they were properly shut down. But with the ship’s AI dead…”
Kas frowned. “I thought there were independent weapons comps that could run the weapons systems even if the AI were gone,” he said. “There are smaller comp systems all through the ship if I remember correctly. Otherwise, a hit to the AI would leave the ship helpless.”
Toj nodded. “That’s the theory. But crews get pretty lax about keeping the backup comps at top readiness. A lot of jury-rigging can take place over a century.”
Kas grinned with relief. “That should be no problem. You’re thinking of her as a hundred-year-old ship. But she was only twelve years old when she disappeared. You might say she’s been in storage since.”
The big man’s somber expression lit up with a huge grin. “Of course, sir! She’s not a hundred-year-old ship — she’s a twelve-year-old ship! If her battle comps weren’t damaged in the rioting, we should be able to get almost all her weapons systems operational.”
Toj’s assessment turned out to be correct. It took only thirty hours to get nearly all of the cruiser’s weapons systems online. Fuel and reaction mass were brought over from Starhopper. Kas didn’t want to take the time to find and activate the cruiser’s stores comp.
It was with a great sense of relief that Kas keyed the switch and saw the Gunnery Officer’s console on the battle cruiser’s bridge come alive. In the airlessness, it was impossible to hear the comp’s verbal readiness report, but the console indicator dials and lights assured Kas of the system’s readiness.
He wouldn’t pressurize the Rekesh ’s bridge, of course. There would be no atmosphere aboard Vir Rekesh until the medical staff certified her safe from contamination. He set the controls for nonverbal reporting, and reported the console’s readings to Toj. Then he muttered a prayer to any god that happened by and punched the button that should launch a practice target.
There was no sound, but after a panicked moment, a blip appeared at the bottom of the main gunnery display, driving away from the ship. At its preselected point the target’s tiny onboard comp began running it through an array of zigs, zags, and wild, unpredictable course changes. Kas keyed a trigger, and his screen showed the target narrowly dodging a laser beam made luminous by the gunnery comp. Without atmospheric particles to excite, of course, the beam itself was invisible. He keyed another, and a particle beam swept space just vacated by the target.
Kas growled. This was really just a test to see if the weapons functioned, but there was no way he was going to let that damned target get away. He was hampered by his space suit, but began playing the console as though it were a musical instrument. Gunnery had always been one of his favorite activities. Still, the target managed to evade him for nearly thirty seconds. Then he triggered a particle beam and immediately followed it with a laser bolt. The target jinked away from the particle beam and directly into the laser bolt. Kas snorted and jerked a nod as the target disintegrated. Then he breathed a huge sigh of relief. If another vessel showed up now, at least he could give them a fight. Then he chuckled and decided that he would get some refresher weapons practice as soon as the mission was completed.
He set up a weapons watch schedule on the dead ship’s bridge. There was some minor complaining, but even the most dedicated bitcher had to admit that the huge ship’s awesome weaponry was a comfort.
It was another thirty hours before Lady Jane pronounced Ro-Lecton sufficiently skilled with a suit to go over to the derelict. “And am I ever glad!” She exclaimed. “That pompous windbag isn’t stupid, but I’d swear he was purposely acting obtuse just to annoy me!”
Kas grinned. “You only got half of it. I got the rest — his incessant demands to be taken over to the Rekesh immediately if not sooner, and damn the suit training.” He sighed. “Well, I promised to take him over to the Rekesh personally and he’d probably get all insulted again if I tried to pawn him off on someone else. Unless you’d like to volunteer…” he trailed off hopefully.
“No chance!” The answer was immediate and firm. “The less I see of that little… man, the better for all concerned — including him.” She frowned and her tone turned serious. “Watch out for him, Kas. He’s been pumping all of us for information about you. He doesn’t like you — and when that kind of stredd doesn’t like someone he’ll go to any length to cause them trouble.”
The little doctor was excited as a kid about the prospect of finally going to the huge ship. His enthusiasm even overcame his pomposity, and he seemed to regard it as a great adventure.
Kas had been aware that Ro-Lecton was gathering information to use against him but there was little he could do about it. At the moment, he needed Ro-Lecton too much. He’d been planning to have a discussion with the little man, but he decided to wait until they returned from the Rekesh.
Finally, they were ready. “Now remember, Doctor,” he began for the dozenth time, “keep your safety line clipped to me at all times except when you’re jumping across.”
Ro-Lecton nodded wearily. “Yes, Commodore. And I won’t even think of jumping without it being clipped to the guide line between the ships.”
Kas started to reply, then realized that whatever he was going to say had already been said many times. He grinned and clipped his line to the guide line. “Then follow me!” He shouted. He flicked off the switch controlling his boot magnets, and jumped easily across the ten meters separating the ships. Halfway across he flipped himself so as to contact the cruiser feet first, and switched on his boot magnets.
When Kas felt his boots contact the cruiser’s hull he twisted to watch as the doctor began to jump. Ro- Lecton crouched a bit to push off but was slow to switch off his boot magnets. As a result, he didn’t have enough momentum to cross the ten meters between the ships and bobbed helplessly around the guide line at its midpoint, crying “Commodore! Help! Help!”
“Easy! Easy!” Kas tried to soothe the panicked man. “Relax, Doctor. You’re not in trouble. Calm down.”
Kas’ soothing must have worked — the suited figure stopped flailing in panic. “Well? What do I do now?” Ro-
