are complete, I will use the viceroy’s security codes to access and override all onboard computers, and broadcast the Fleet Admiral’s message over every band on every communicator in the system. I will also prevent Nemesis ’ personnel from regaining control of comm and weapons systems.
“You will attempt to escape Nemesis and reboard, and I will run an evasion course to the secondary jump point.” She hesitated. “Captain, I estimate our chances of complete success at less than 25 %, of your survival at less than 32 %, and of my survival at less than 50 %.”
“I know, Kaleen,” I replied, “but we will have bought Cord time he desperately needs. He’ll lose a lot more than one smart ship and a fat old man if Jonas attacks too soon. We have to try. How long ‘til emergence?”
“Ten seconds, Captain. IFF running… 5… 4… 3… 2
… 1…”
We popped into normal space. As we’d expected, Jonas had the jump point picketed. Nobody fired. When our IFF had been confirmed, the destroyer on duty established communication and escorted us in-system, while broadcasting an alert to Nemesis. As we threaded our way through the sown mines over the next day and a half, Jonas’ comm people tried to get me to talk about my mission, but I stood on my new rank and refused to speak with anyone but Jonas. I merely told them that Jonas was to meet me in the landing bay immediately upon my arrival. Jonas himself did not attempt to talk to me.
Kaleen had no problem sliding into Nemesis ’ landing bay. I’d forgotten how huge a dreadnought was! Her landing bay held nearly a hundred fighters, but there was still sufficient room to have accommodated Rimrunner, Valkyrie, and three rim tramps.
Shields normally sealed Nemesis ’ landing bay. The massive armored doors would be closed only in battle, after her fighters had been launched. Rimrunner slid through an opening in the shield, and settled to the deck. It actually took some ten minutes to repressurize the huge bay.
Dreadnoughts are the capital ships of the Fleet. There are only half a dozen of them, each a globe a kilometer in diameter. At full wartime strength, each could carry nearly a hundred Strengl and Wasp fighters, and they bristled with lasers and particle beam weapons. Two of them had defeated an entire fleet during the Horsehead Rebellion.
However, the Horsehead Rebellion had been four hundred years ago. Many of the younger Fleet officers, including me, thought of dreadnoughts as obsolete dinosaurs. They were also horrendously expensive, which is why the newest of them was some two hundred years old. Nemesis, at two hundred fifty, was one of the last ones built. Older officers like Jonas, though, regarded them as living representations of the Fleet’s power. Every time the idea of scrapping the dreadnoughts came up, the old guard rallied around and swore that it would mark the end of the Fleet’s effectiveness.
As I walked down Rimrunner 's ramp, Jonas, a Captain, two Commanders and four armed marines awaited me.
Jonas had put on weight since I’d known him. He’d had a paunch before, but now he was positively obese, and even the minor exercise of walking across the landing bay had left him red-faced and breathless. The Captain, whom I assumed to be Jamin Van-Lyn, CO of Nemesis, was the opposite, thin to the point of emaciation. He also looked very nervous. Obviously, he was intelligent enough to be wary of the presence of a senior officer purportedly from Fleet HQ.
Jonas seemed unimpressed, however. For a moment, a puzzled expression crossed the florid features, and then cleared, to be replaced by obvious anger.
“I know you! Kedron! I knew that name was familiar! You're that jumped-up marine!”
I had to grab the initiative. I hoped Kaleen would hurry. I could see the service techs swarming over Rimrunner. “Atten- shun!” I roared, “Is this how senior officers are greeted on the rim?”
Jonas instinctively snapped to attention along with everyone else, and then forced himself to relax with a disgusted look. I narrowed my eyes, and took on a dangerous tone. “You have a problem with that, Admiral? I’d suggest you count the stars on my shoulder boards, and then count the ones on yours.”
“Bah!” he snorted, “I don’t believe it. This man's an imposter,” he told the marines. “Arrest him!”
I turned to the marines as they began raising their lasers uncertainly. “Arrest him!” I barked. “I have arrest warrants for Rear Admiral Jonas and Captain Van-Lyn for treason and mutiny, issued by Fleet HQ!”
The marines hesitated, while I silently prayed to any god that happened by to get Kaleen working.
“That’s ridiculous!” Jonas sputtered. “This man is obviously a pawn of Cord’s, here to spread dissension. I said, ‘arrest him’!”
The marines were confused. They looked at each other, and at the sergeant commanding the group, who wavered uncertainly. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, every speaker in the bay activated, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Attention all military personnel in the rim sector! This is an urgent message from Fleet Headquarters on Prime for all rim sector Fleet personnel. Stand by for an announcement from CINCFLEET!”
As the announcement began to repeat, Jonas whirled to one of the commanders behind him. “What’s that? Who authorized this broadcast?”
The commander gulped and punched frantically at his keypad. “I.. I don’t know, sir! It’s taken over my keypad, too.”
“Well, stop it!” Jonas growled, then turned to me. “What d’you think you're playing at, Kedron?”
“Sir!” The commander pawed at Jonas’ arm in panic. “I can’t stop it, Admiral! It’s blanketing all frequencies, and it’s being broadcast system-wide using the comm satellites!”
Jonas whirled to confront me just as another, familiar voice began an announcement over the speakers.
“This is Fleet Admiral Chu-Lo, Commander-In-chief, Empire Fleet, addressing all Fleet personnel in the rim sector. Rear Admiral Micah Jonas and Captain Jamin Van-Lyn are relieved of their commands, and are to be considered fugitives from charges of treason and mutiny.” Though we couldn’t see it, I knew that the Fleet Admiral was appearing in vid on every receiver capable of receiving images.
Jonas looked stunned. “It’s a lie!” he shouted, pointing at me. “I’m not the traitor! He is! He works for Cord! He’s doing this!” Admiral Chu-Lo was still talking, but Jonas had heard enough.
I nodded. “I’m doing this,” I confirmed, “But the message is genuine. Maybe you'd better hear all of it before you do anything rash.”
“Arrest him!” Jonas demanded hysterically, “ Shoot him!”
The marines still looked unsure, but one of them began raising his laser, and I decided I’d been brave enough for one day. “Look at this!” I shouted. I tossed the flash grenade I’d held concealed in my hand, and squeezed my eyes shut.
The grenade went off, and the actinic flash penetrated even my closed eyelids. I reopened my eyes, spun, and pounded back up Rimrunner ’s ramp. In the lock, I turned and looked back. The grenade had caught Jonas and the others. They were stumbling around, blinded. Jonas was shouting to the marines to shoot me, but they’d all been looking at the grenade. The lock slammed shut, and I scrambled for the bridge. “ATTENTION!” the Landing bay speakers began, “The landing bay will be depressurized in thirty seconds. Twenty-nine… twenty-eight… twenty-seven…”
As Kaleen continued counting down, service techs were scrambling for the hatches. Jonas’ group had begun getting some vision back, and two of the marines were actually shooting at Rimrunner. Their infantry weapons had no effect on the ship, of course. I suspected they were firing only because Jonas was screaming at them hysterically, and they wanted to be doing something. As Kaleen’s countdown continued, Jonas and the others finally broke, running for the hatches. Discipline be damned, Jonas was the last one to scramble through a hatch, with the countdown at “four.”
Precisely at “zero,” Kaleen disabled two of the shield projectors, and the outrush of atmosphere, assisted by our own maximum acceleration, blasted us through the resulting hole at more than four gees.
Chapter VIII
Rear Admiral Micah Jonas pressed his face to the small circular window in the hatch leading to the landing bay, puffing mightily and producing a steady stream of curses between puffs.
