much as possible, but now you’ve got your damned ship back and we’re ready to get back to business.”
Ro-Ligon shook his head. “Amazing. Leave it to Preslin to find a good-looking woman, even in the middle of a secret mission!” He sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry, young mistress. It will not be possible to repatriate you or your companion, at least not in the near future.
“Unfortunately, the orders you heard me give Captain Ler-Traken are direct from Fleet Headquarters on Prime. I have no authority to deviate from them.”
Lady Jane frowned. “Sir, I protest. And I demand to be permitted to contact Alliance diplomatic personnel immediately!”
Ro-Ligon shook his head in denial. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid. We will notify the Alliance embassy immediately of your whereabouts and present status.” His lined face hardened with determination. “But no one will be permitted to leave that ship for any reason. Again, I’m sorry.” He straightened. “Captain Ler-Traken?”
“Here, sir.” Var nudged the civilians aside and resumed his seat in front of the pickup.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Ro-Ligon resumed. “You are to treat your Alliance guests with all possible respect and consideration. But under no circumstances are they to be permitted to contact Alliance authorities.
“Now,” he continued. “I repeat: there is to be no physical contact of any sort between the people aboard your two ships and anyone not presently aboard one of those ships.
“You are to boost out immediately at max possible delta-vee, and return to Commodore Preslin. You will deliver to him the directives that have just been provided to you. Those directives contain all the information he will need to complete his mission.”
“Sir,” Var said urgently, “Will we rendezvous with reinforcements from the Empire?”
Ro-Ligon frowned. “Reinforcements? Don’t be ridiculous. Even an outie like Preslin should be able to defend himself with a fully armed battle cruiser!”
Var flushed slightly. “Ordinarily that would be true, sir. But he has only 300 Fleet personnel aboard, less than a tenth of Rekesh ’s complement. That’s barely enough to fly her. It’s certainly not enough to fight her effectively.”
To-Ligon waved a hand in dismissal. “There’s no one to fight! Certainly none of these provincials would be up to attacking a Fleet battle cruiser.” Var shook his head. “I disagree, sir. The Glory would certainly try, if they knew where she was. And I suspect Libertad might take the risk, too. But the point is we have an undermanned ship whose course is, or will shortly be, known to anyone interested enough to bribe a clerk in any of a dozen of the independents. The danger is real, sir.”
To-Ligon looked unimpressed. “Very well, Captain. I’ll relay your concerns. But no one will be going aboard Rekesh or Starhopper.” An annoyed expression crossed his face. “Frankly, I think you’re overreacting. Those outies on Libertad and the Glory don’t want to pick a fight with the Empire, after all.”
Var suppressed a frown of disagreement. “Yes, sir. Uh, there is one other thing, Captain. I’d hoped to reprovision here…” His voice trailed off as he saw Ro-Ligon give a curt shake of his head.
“Quite impossible, Captain. I’m afraid you’ll just have to make your ships’ stores last awhile.” He hesitated, and then continued in a less formal tone, “I’ll make sure that the powers that be haven’t forgotten that you might need supplies. Perhaps a rendezvous with a stores ship can be arranged.” He shrugged. “I’ll try, anyway, Captain. I’m well aware that all of you are being treated quite shabbily for Fleet officers and crew.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, Captain. There’s nothing more I’m permitted to tell you. I’m told that all the details are in those messages you’ve been given. Good luck.” His image faded as he clicked off. Var frowned. What the Sheol was going on? Something was up, no doubt about it. His face cleared as he got to his feet. “All right, you heard the man. Mr. Reffel, break orbit. Mistress Fauss, please plot us a course to the jump point, max boost. Mr. Jans, get us clearances from Remor Control. Now, people. I want to boost out in fifteen minutes.”
As the crew scrambled to obey, Var turned to the two civilians. “I doubt you’ll believe this, Mistress, but I’m truly sorry.”
Lady Jane smiled. “Oh, I believe it. You’re still saddled with two Alley spies. And me without a single cloak or dagger.”
Var’s handsome face relaxed into a smile. “I’m sure you’ll make do. No, I meant I’m sorry that we weren’t able to disembark you here. I’ve a feeling that you’re going to wish we had.”
Her smile faded. “Something’s going on, isn’t it? Something big.”
He shrugged. “You know as much as I do. But yes, I’d say something’s badly wrong.”
He was right. They’d received a lot of comm traffic; and surprisingly, none of it was personal mail for the crews of either Starhopper or Rekesh.
Nearly all of it was classified, and much of it appeared to have come directly from Fleet HQ. Most amazing of all was one that carried the imprint of the Imperial Senate.
Unfortunately, only one directive was addressed to CO, Starhopper, and that consisted only of written orders confirming those he’d been given by Captain Ro-Ligon. Var would have to contain his curiosity until the Commodore briefed him. If he did.
PART III
Chapter 14
Kas stared incredulously at the viewer in front of him.
Curiosity had led him to open the message from the Imperial Senate first. After all, he’d never before heard of the Senate sending messages directly to Fleet personnel. On the rare occasions such contact was made, it was made through Fleet HQ and Fleet Admiral Pankin. It was unprecedented.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was summoned to appear before a session of the Imperial Senate to “explain matters directly relating to the safety and welfare of the Empire.” The date he was commanded to appear was just over a month ago. He wondered if there was a warrant out for his arrest for Contempt of the Senate.
He shook his head in disbelief, and turned his attention to the next most impressive; the one imprinted with the personal seal of the Commander In chief, Imperial Fleet. He set the viewer display to ‘screen’.
Fleet Admiral Pankin appeared, sitting behind a bare desk.
The Fleet Admiral smiled. Kas almost answered the smile with one of his own before remembering he was seeing a recording.
“Hello, Commodore,” Pankin began. “By now, you’ve been looking at this mass of electronic junk and wondering what the Sheol’s happened.
“Well, your secret mission’s no longer secret. The story of the Vir Rekesh hit the newsies about three months after you left.”
His smile turned bitter. “Of course, they played up the sensational aspects, with the emphasis on the plague. For months now, the Rekesh has been the “Ghost ship” “Imperial death ship,” and even something called the “Flying Dutchman.” It took the newsies about two minutes to decide that she was a threat to the entire Empire.”
The Admiral shrugged. “Then the news somehow leaked that we’d sent a mission to recover her. The newsies went mad.” He smiled grimly. “Of course, the Senate went mad about five minutes later, as soon as the reports hit the terminals. I’ve been before six Senate committees and before the full Senate twice. It seems they think we’re fools or villains. Or both. The Emperor has already had to personally intercede when a pack of senators demanded my head.
“I guess some staffer’s been counting heads or something, because about two months ago your name came up in connection with the Rekesh. Ever since, you have been a prominent feature of the newsies all over the Empire, and in most of the independents.
