calm down. “Hari, you’ve done it! You’ve given us a real chance, if we have the time to get set up.”
The next weeks were a blur of activity as we arranged for the manufacture of weapons and turrets, and the modification of rim tramps and mining boats to accommodate them. The final design mounted six turrets, three spaced 120 degrees apart near the bow of the tramp, and three more, also equidistant but offset sixty degrees from the first, just aft of her cargo bays. This meant that the ship had complete coverage with at least two turrets covering any possible target.
Once the design was settled, the next challenge was the tramp captains. Captain Cony had kept them happily negotiating for weeks, but now we had no more time. I asked him to call a meeting of the “Captains’ Council.”
I was received with courtesy, and handed an agenda. I strode to the podium and took a deep breath.
“My fellow Captains,” I began, “I’m here today to tell you that weapons designs have been approved, and are presently being manufactured. We will be ready to begin refit of the first ships within the week.” I paused, and a rumble of conversation broke out. I raised my hand, and the rumble died. “This means,” I continued, “That we no longer have the luxury of time for these negotiations. Captain Cony is now handing out a copy of our only and final offer. The Viceroy will pay for modifications to your vessels and the removal of the modifications later. If any ship is lost or damaged, the Viceroy will pay for repair or replacement. In addition, each ship will be compensated for lost trade based upon an average of the vessel's income over the past year, pro-rated for the amount of time spent in the service of the Viceroy.”
This time the rumble was a roar. A man in the front row stood up, and the babble subsided. “What if a ship had a bad year last year, Commodore?”
I shrugged. “Then she’ll have a bad year this year too. The Viceroy is compensating you for your ships and effort in his behalf, not adopting you.” The roar flared again. I raised a hand and it subsided slightly, but I still had to speak loudly to continue. “I’m a trader, too.” I said. “I know that it’s our natures to try to get the best deal possible. I’m telling you right now that this is it. It’s non-negotiable. Those of you who wish to volunteer your services and those of your ships should give your names to Captain Cony. No,” I added, “You will not get a better deal by dragging your feet; and you'll be risking events catching up with you.”
The man in the front row hadn’t sat down. “And what if we decide that we’re not interested in the Viceroy's take-it-or-leave-it offer?” he asked belligerently.
My temper flared, but I held onto it. “Then you’re free to see if you can get a better offer from Admiral Jonas.” There was a murmur of hushed conversation. “Or you can try to pretend that nothing’s happening. But don’t plan on being very popular. When this dustup is over, be assured that the people of all the rim planets will know who the heroic traders were who fought for them — and which traders didn't.”
“That’s blackmail!” the man shouted.
I grinned. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” I left the podium and the building. Even as I left, I could see the captains clustering around Cony, all wanting to show their heroism by being among the first to sign up. The man who’d spoken up was glowering at me, but he jostled into the throng. I wasn’t concerned. Any captain who wanted to stay on the rim would sign on.
Other problems were more complex. I still didn’t have a Flag Captain to command Valkyrie, or an Astrogator, and her refit was nearly complete. There were the thousands of details involved in the manufacture and installation of the weapons systems, and the transportation of the mining boats. Since they weren't jump-capable, they had to be brought to Outback aboard tramps for arming and pilot training. Luckily, Toms Tindarr turned out to be an excellent instructor, and since his students knew his ability and weren’t put off by his appearance, they paid attention and learned quickly. Within a couple of weeks, space around Outback was crowded with darting, speeding boats. We’d run out of scrap hulls, and the students were training using ship-sized asteroids as targets.
When the vidphone activated, it took me a moment to recognize the Guild representative I’d contacted when we’d first arrived on Outback.
“Good news, Commodore,” he crowed. “We’ve found an Astrogator on Gamma who paid off a Beta-class freighter a few months ago.”
“Great!” I exclaimed. “Get him here as soon as possible. Send him a round-trip ticket, so he won't have to worry about getting back to Gamma if it doesn't work out.”
The man smiled broadly. “She’s here on Outback, Commodore. I felt sure you’d guarantee her passage. Shall I send her over? I think you’ll find her quite… er… striking!”
“She, eh?” I replied. “Yes, by all means send her over immediately. As for whether she's striking, she could be a purple-furred quadruped for all I care.”
The smile didn’t fade. 'Of course, Commodore. She says she can be there within the hour.' After abbreviated courtesies, we signed off.
I keyed the intercom to Jax’s office. “Jax, a woman will be coming within the next hour or so to see me. Bring her right in; she may be a replacement for Con.”
Chapter V
The intercom rang. Vice Admiral Micah Jonas keyed it, and Captain Jamin Van-Lyn’s voice emerged. “Admiral, I think you’d better get up to the bridge. I think we have a problem.” The old man's voice sounded urgent.
Micah sighed. “What is it, Jamin? I’m very busy.”
“We just received a report that Predator drove from the repair dock at maximum emergency boost. She took out one of the orbiting missile batteries as she passed.”
“What? Stop her! Shoot her down! If she gets to Cord, we’re in big trouble!”
Micah could almost hear the shrug in Van-Lyn's voice. “Bendo evidently waited until Nemesis was on the opposite side of the planet. It’ll be almost an hour before our weapons bear, and by then she’ll be out of range.” The added, “You fool!” was unspoken, but clear.
By the time Van-Lyn finished speaking; Micah was at the cabin door, on his way to the bridge.
“Who is in range?” he demanded as he stormed onto the bridge.
“ Relentless has weapons that still bear,” Van Lyn replied, “But her drives are shut down. By the time she powers up, Predator will have jumped. It’s barely possible that Eagle could catch her before she jumps.”
Micah whirled to the Comm Officer. “Get me Captain Rhysman aboard Eagle!” he demanded. “Rhysman,” he rapped out when the connection was made, “ Predator is deserting to join Cord. I want you to overtake and destroy her. Is that clear?”
“Yes Sir!” the youthful skipper replied. Even before the connection was severed, Rhysman was streaming orders to his bridge crew.
“Now,” Micah rapped to the Comm Officer, “Get me Bon-Lor aboard Relentless.” He ordered the battle cruiser to open fire on the fleeing Destroyer. Captain Bon-Lor was obviously unhappy with the orders, but Micah knew he’d obey.
Then, all Micah could do was hover over the screens displaying images routed from Relentless and Eagle via the satellites.
Relentless got off three missiles and four laser blasts before Predator was out of range. Two of the laser blasts indicated hits, but Predator 's shields were up and her acceleration was unaffected. Predator destroyed two of the missiles, and Bon-Lor was forced to destroy the third, as it became as much a threat to Eagle as to Predator.
Predator continued to blast at maximum acceleration for the jump point. Eagle pursued on a converging course.
Micah cursed. “Will he catch Predator?” he demanded.
The Tactical Officer raised his head from his display. “Unknown, sir,” He replied crisply. “Tactical comp indicates that time to jump and time to intercept is identical to the limit of accuracy. Eagle may have time to deploy some weapons, however. Even one hit may slow Predator enough to let Eagle catch her.”
Micah grunted. He knew when an officer was trying to make up good news to soften bad news. Yes, Eagle might have time to deploy some weapons; but Predator would also have time to deploy weapons and countermeasures. Obviously, the Tactical Officer doubted that Eagle would stop Predator.
There was silence on the bridge as time slowed and the tiny blips crept across the screens. Hours dragged.
