Greenies

'If we're going to keep tracking this target we're going to have to maneuver soon. Our orbit will take us out of range of Triad in another twenty minutes.'

'Very well,' Warren said. 'Plot us a burn that will keep us in the vicinity. Remember, minimum G. There might be a Henry out here somewhere and we don't want to give away our position to them. There's a good chance that they're feeding information to the greenies.'

'Yes sir,' he said, bending to his computer screen. It took him less than a minute to give the computer the parameters he needed and get an answer from it. 'Burn info is on your screen, captain,' he said when it was done.

A minute later the order was given and Marlin's fusion engines began to burn, pushing the ship closer to its target at .15Gs.

Mermaid was now three kilometers out from TNB and nearly two downrange, far enough away that her fusion engines would not cause damage to any structure. Her nose was now facing nearly ninety degrees away from the planet. The navigation computer had taken over thruster activity to stabilize them in this particular inclination.

'We are in alignment for our burn,' reported Sugiyoto, who had lit a cigarette and was puffing on it nervously.

'All right then,' said Brett, who was puffing a smoke of his own. He touched his screen, linking his communications with the engineering spaces. 'Mike,' he said to Bellingraph, 'we're aligned for our burn. Is everything ready to go back there?'

'The engines are turning and ready,' Mike reported. 'They'll burn at your command.'

'Thanks, Mike,' he said, shutting off the link and then turning on the ship's intercom. 'All personnel, this is Ingram. Prepare to break orbit. I repeat, we will begin our burn in twenty seconds.' He shut off the intercom and then looked at Sugiyoto once more. 'Sugi, sound the acceleration alarm.'

'Right,' he replied. 'Acceleration alarm sounded.'

When it had sounded for twenty seconds it automatically shut off. Brett looked at Mandall. 'Helm, commence burn. Point two G.'

'Point two G,' she repeated. Her finger trembled as it reached down to the control and pushed the button.

Everyone on board was holding their breath. Half expected nothing to happen. The other half expected the ship to explode in a fury of ignited hydrogen fuel. All of then were wrong. The fusion engines lit just like they were supposed to, expelling a stream of uncooled, white-hot plasma from the rear. The ship was pushed forward at two tenths the force of gravity, pushing everyone down in his or her seats. A collective sigh of relief was breathed as they felt the motion.

'How we looking, Sugi?' Brett asked, unsnapping his seat belt now that there was acceleration produced gravity in the ship.

'Right on the line,' he reported after taking an extra long drag of his cigarette. 'We'll have enough velocity to break orbit in forty-five minutes.'

'Thanks, Sugi.' He flipped to the engineering link again. 'Mike? How are we looking back there?'

'Both engines are operating within parameters,' he replied at once. 'Was there ever any doubt?'

Brett laughed. 'Of course not, Mike. Keep up the good work.'

'Holy shit!' blurted Pebley as he saw the flare of white from his tracking computer.

'What the hell did you just say?' asked Warren, who was a notorious stickler for military courtesy.

'Sorry sir,' Pebley apologized. 'It's just that the greenies just lit off the fusion engines on that thing!'

'They did what?' Warren and Lovington said at the same time.

'No mistaking, sir,' Pebley told them. 'They've initiated what looks to be a fusion burn. They're accelerating at a rate of one point nine-six meters per second. That's point two G. They're trying to break orbit.'

Lovington broke free of his chair and floated back over to Pebley to look over his shoulder once again. Warren called up the display on his own screen. Both stared intently, seeing the white flare before their eyes but still not believing it.

'Son of a bitch,' Warren said quietly. 'They got the fusion engines lit. They must have a crew aboard that they're forcing to work for them.'

'No question,' Lovington agreed. 'But where the hell are they going with that thing? What could they possibly hope to do? It doesn't make sense.'

'Sir,' Pebley spoke up, 'I have a positive identification on the vessel from the engine signature. It's the Mermaid.'

'Stan Hoffman's ship,' Warren said reflectively. 'And I think Jack Braxton is his XO. The greenies must have one or both of them on that bridge. Helm, maneuver to keep tracking them. I want to figure out just what their post-orbital course is going to be and I don't want to lose them if they throttle down those engines.'

'Plotting tracking course,' the helmsman said, bending to his computer.

'That's going to put our own engines fairly high in the infrared,' Lovington pointed out. 'If there's a Henry out there they might catch a whiff of us.'

'A chance we'll have to take,' Warren responded. 'It just occurred to me what those greenies might be up to with that thing.'

'What's that?'

'What if they're delivering it to the EastHem military? Selling it to them in exchange for that fuel that they're planning to use? Those fucking fascists would love to get their hands on one of our Owls. They haven't had a chance to examine one since that traitorous greenie handed a C model to them during the Jupiter War.'

'Damn,' Lovington whispered fearfully, frightened by the very thought of the EastHem's learning the various secrets of the modern Owl. 'I think you might be right. And they might hand the crew over to the EastHem's as well.'

'We need to stay on their ass,' Warren said. 'If the EastHem's take possession of one of our Owls it will be an act of war.'

'Course plotted, sir,' the helmsman said. 'It's on your screen.'

Warren looked down, noting that they would have to increase their acceleration to three tenths of a G in order to keep close enough. That was a little bit high for maintaining stealth mode but he really had no choice. 'Initiate,' he said. 'And let's start preparing a report for CINCFARSP. I guess we'll break the communications routine after all.'

'Sir,' the communications officer suddenly spoke up, 'I'm afraid that we won't be able to send a message by laser for a bit.'

'Our alignment?' Warren asked with a sigh.

'Yes sir. Our path puts the planet between the receiver and us. We won't be able to lock on for another hour at least. There's always the radio of course, but...'

'No, maintain radio silence,' Warren ordered. 'I don't want the greenies or the EastHem's knowing that we're out here if we can avoid it. We'll just wait until the receiver is back in sight and send the report then.'

'Aye sir,' the communications officer said.

Mermaid's velocity continued to increase as the fusion engines burned and pushed them higher and higher above the planet. Mike in the engineering spaces continued to report a good status and gradually the crew began to relax a little.

Brett was still sitting in his chair, sipping out of a cup of coffee and chain-smoking cigarettes as he tried to work out some sort of drill schedule for the first week of their deployment. He needed to get everyone up to speed on the general quarters and damage control drills first and foremost. But there was also the abandon ship drill, the emergency deceleration drill, and half a dozen others that they needed to perfect before they went into combat the first time. And then there was the fact that most of the crew didn't know how to maneuver in low G's. Already there was one person in sickbay from falling down a ladder.

'Brett,' said Sugiyoto, who was monitoring the detection and navigation computers, trying to run some tracking drills, 'I know this sounds strange, but...'

'But what?' he said, looking up and glancing over.

'Well, I think I'm detecting something.'

'What do you mean?' he asked, not terribly interested yet. They were after all, still in orbit. He figured that