“For the first time, at least in my life, it’s somehow sad to be Taran,” Emily said. “How did it happen?”
“You told me, remember? How technology undermines ethics and morality…” Van stopped as his soup and Emily’s salad arrived.
Van took a spoonful of the soup. “It’s good.”
“I’ll have to try it, the next time we come.” Emily smiled.
“I’m glad you’re granting me a next time.”
“How could I not?” Emily flushed. “I mean, you’re the only man who’s crossed the stars for me.”
“With a middle name like yours, how could a ship’s captain refuse?” Van asked lightly. “Even if I do have to sail off.”
“I won’t throw myself off a cliff,” Emily replied.
“I’d never give you the chance,” Van blurted. “I mean, even if I am leaving after we eat…it’s not as though…I will be back…”
“You’d better not wait seven years,” she said dryly.
“Not seven years,” he agreed. Somehow, he would get back, far sooner than that, next time, and with better planning.
They both smiled.
Chapter 84
Van had hated to leave the Nubeya—and Emily. Despite the overtones of what was happening throughout the Arm, it had been a respite of warmth and laughter, and one all too short.
Back on the Joyau, while he waited for Alya to return, he had used the time to catch up on news and work on the itinerary and the associated needs and strategies. He’d decided that the next stop would be Samarra, partly since Nynca had suggested that Van visit Samarra to assess the viability of reopening the IIS office there and partly since it was a convenient stop before the Joyau headed more spinward along the Arm.
He also couldn’t help thinking about the Republic, and the idea that the government was not composed of leaders, but followers, followers of prejudice, and, as Trystin had put it, simplistic “big kill” beliefs. Had that been the problem with the Revenants as well? That Trystin’s earlier actions had influenced leaders, but the leaders couldn’t overcome the biases and beliefs of the people? Was the Republic already following that course?
He tried to concentrate on getting ready for the IIS business ahead and managed to get some of his preparations done before he sensed the lock opening.
Alya was smiling as she reentered the cockpit of the Joyau. “Good afternoon, Commander.”
“I can tell you had a good time,” Van commented dryly.
Alya flushed before she replied, “And you didn’t?”
“I had a good time—part of the time. The rest was necessary and useful.” Van paused. “I’m glad you had a good time. We’re headed to Samarra, and you’ll probably have to sit the ship there.”
“Samarra? Didn’t the Revs take that over three–four years back?”
“They did, but we’ve gotten word that once the Coalition smashed the Rev fleets, the Samarrans revolted and took back control of their system. It’s still unsettled.”
Alya looked quizzically at Van.
“If we reopen the office there now, we can help with the rebuilding—and we might get opportunities we won’t get later.”
“And headaches.”
Van laughed. “They go with opportunities.”
Alya strapped into the second seat.
Meroe orbit control, this is Coalition ship Joyau. Request delocking and departure this time.
Stand by for delocking.
Standing by. Van reduced internal ship gravity to zero, brought the fusactors on line, and delinked from station power.
Joyau, clear to delock and depart this time. Traffic departing in the orange.
Control, delocking this time. Have traffic in screens. Departing low-power. Van eased the Joyau away from the station and onto an out-system course.
He even got some sleep in the outer reaches of the Kush system before they reached the jump zone. And thankfully, no nightmares.
Jump was normal—black-white, eternal and timeless simultaneously.
Once back in normspace, Van studied the monitors.
Unidentified warships closing. Less than one hundred emkay.
“Strap in tight, Alya. We’ve got company, and they don’t look friendly.” His attention shifted to the EDI screens. The two ships making for the Joyau had Revenant drive signatures. One was a frigate, and the other a corvette.
Van decided to play dumb and continue in-system, but he double-checked the torp bays and the shields…then watched and waited as the two Revenant vessels neared.
Unidentified ship, drop all shields and stand by for boarding.
Request identity and authority, Van pulsed back, ready to reinforce his own shields as necessary.
Our authority is that of the Prophet. This system remains Revenant territory.
On behalf of the Coalition, Van pulsed back, I would be pleased to accept your surrender. If you choose to surrender, drop your shields immediately.
The only response was a salvo of torps.
Van dropped the internal gravs, diverted power to the shields and turned head-to-head toward the corvette. For a moment, the smaller ship continued toward the Joyau. Then it fired two torps.
The four torps did not arrive simultaneously, and the Joyau’s shields barely flickered. Van diverted some power to the drives and accelerated toward the corvette, which turned toward the frigate.
Van slewed the Joyau toward the corvette, accelerating more, then cut the drives and flexed the shields outward until they touched those of the smaller ship. The corvette rebounded from the Joyau’s shields, carried back by the greater mass of Van’s ship and by the strength of the shields, toward the frigate, which had not fired any more torps.
Van fired two torps, one at each vessel, timing them so that they would reach the other ships—he hoped—at the same time as their shields touched.
The Revenant shields intersected—and flickered, just as the first torp neared the corvette.
The corvette disintegrated in a shower of energy.
The frigate’s screens went amber.
Van fired another torp.
A flare of energy marked the frigate’s demise.
“That wasn’t bad,” remarked Alya.
“They’d already taken some damage, I think. The frigate’s shields just collapsed, and it was low on torps.” Van was glad that he hadn’t had to use many torps, and he almost felt sorry for the Revs. Almost, but
