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Scott.2G.Part_#2.txt

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     - XXV -
     Miakr opened the airlock.
     He jumped back.  His head lamps caught a drifting figure's
face as it moved out of the airlock.  Staring eyes, a muzzle with
lips curled back in hate showing razor teeth.
     He yelled and swung instinctively.  Battle dress swatted
away the fearsome apparition like a fly.  Miakr looked on as the
vargr tumbled across the room stiff as a board and bounced
against the far bulkhead.
     "Dead?" he asked.
     Vole caught the corpse from its gyrations.  "Very dead.  But
this one didn't die from oxygen starvation."
     "What do you mean?" asked Gresha.
     Vole turned the corpse around to face them:  a female.  Two
holes were torn in the body.  "Looks like nine millimeter
bullets.  Now we know why the one on the bridge had an SMG."
     "She's wearing a corsair uniform." Gresha pointed out.
     "What band?" asked Shtam.
     "Looks like the Uekalez.  Hard to say though."
     "What do you know about them?"
     "Tough group.  Strong in space.  This Vixen must've been
theirs.  Had a good fleet 'til recently." she said remembering.
     "What happened to them?" asked Shtam.
     Gresha shook her head.  "The usual I think:  internal splits,
competition moving in.  Happened about three months ago.  I don't
know."
     "Interesting." commented Vole.  "I estimate the time of
death of this vargr at approximately three and one half months
ago."
     - XXV -
     Ten robots stood motionless in the engine room.
     "They're out of fuel." noted Miakr.  "Probably drained to
keep the life support going."
     "Agreed." nodded Shtam.  "Vole, how much fuel do you have at
the moment?"
     "Thirty three point six liters."
     "Well, it will have to do."
     "What do you mean Shtam?" asked Miakr hesitantly.
     "To get control of this ship we will need to use Vole's fuel
to power up the engines." Shtam explained.
     "What?" shouted Miakr.
     "We have to stop the ship's spin before we can refuel it.
To do that we will use Vole's fuel.  He does not carry much, but
it ought to be enough to stop the rotation."
     "He won't have enough to operate!" shouted Miakr eyes wide.
     Gresha stared, "Miakr?"
     "What's the matter?" wondered Shtam, "It will not damage
him."
     Miakr glared "He'll be out of power."
     "So?" asked Gresha.
     "He can't operate.  I won't allow it."
     "Miakr," began Shtam calmly, "Vole will only be powered down
for a little while, an hour at most."
     Miakr only glared.
     "It sound's like a sensible plan." broke in Vole, "But, may
I suggest that I be left with point two liters of fuel?" I can
operate for one hour on that amount."
     Miakr eased.
     - XXVI -
     Miakr glanced at the gauges nervously.  "Fuel temperature
rising... Approaching ignition temperature:  thirty seconds."
     Shtam looked over the main engine christmas tree.  "Gresha,
we will have power in twenty four seconds.  Stand by to activate
emergency de-spin.  Flamboyant stand by for fuel transfer."
     Gresha's radio sounded from the bridge.  "Standing by."
     Niedrsha in the Flamboyant called, "We're in position."
     Miakr shot a glance across his shoulder, "Vole, how is your
fuel holding out?"
     "I will be forced to shut down in two minutes seventeen
seconds."
     "Vole," wondered Shtam, "can't you conserve fuel?"
     "No, he can't." snapped Miakr.  "His fuel cell has only so
much variability.  He's set on lowest power output right now."
     Shtam ignored the curt reply.  "Here it comes.  Four seconds
to ignition."
     The plasma became more and more violent in its slam dancing
ultra violet display.  Suddenly, under the wing of a gaussian,
two deuterium atoms collided with unusual force.  Two individual
nucleii suddenly met.  After billions of years of solitude, the 
protons embraced, and clung to each other with tremendous force,
heat and desire and became one for all eternity.  Love is found
everywhere in nature.
     "We have fusion ignition!" called Shtam, "Activating bridge
controls."
     "She's alive!" shouted Gresha.
     The ship jerked under their feet as the emergency de-spin
system fought the torque of the Vixen.  They held on as the ship
suddenly moved without them.  Vole, with nearly no power to stop
himself, drifted up to the center of the engine room.
     The maneuver jets ate the Vixen's spin.  She slowed and
stopped her slow pirouette.
     "Flamboyant, commence docking and fuel transfer." smiled
Shtam.
     "Quick, Shtam!" shouted Miakr urgently, "Can I bleed off
another point two liters for Vole?"
     - XXVII -
     Hours later, the boarding party was aboard the Flamboyant.
     "Well, how are the engines of that thing, Shtam?" asked
Niedrsha.  "Looks like she's pretty beat up."
     Shtam set his air tanks to recharge.  "Well, actually, the
Vixen is in fairly good condition considering what it must have
been through.  Those ships are built to only be used once.  When
they fire the main missile bay it shakes the ship apart.  She may
have been used a few times."
     Shtam stretched and continued.  "She appears to have
recently undergone a major overhaul.  The equipment appears to
have been stripped from other Vixens to make one working one out
of several damaged ones."
     "It's been cannibalized." nodded Jietlshaiepr.
     "Precisely.  It's been without power now for some time.  The
engines need to be thoroughly checked before she can make jump."
     Niedrsha shook his head.  "Too fuckin' bad.  We don't have
the time.  We got to get after the doc."
     "However," continued Shtam, "if we leave someone here to go
over the ship, and get her going again.  We will have a nice
little warship with the armament of a light cruiser to bargain
with.  It would take a thirteen hundred ton ship to carry the
same armament as this one."
     "And, it carries nukes." nodded Niedrsha.  "Who's staying?"
     Shtam raised an eyebrow.  "Miakr has already volunteered.
He, Vole and Gresha will stay behind."
     Jietlshaiepr's brows knit, "How will they survive?  The
original crew died."
     "We will have to take the Vixen to Aramat's orbit.  There, we
can pick up oxygen for the life support.  She will have enough fuel
to last twenty four weeks at full power.  That should be plenty of
time for us to reach Massina, have the forensics experts go over
the Flamboyant and return."
     "Miakr doesn't mind staying?" queried Jietlshaiepr.
     Shtam shook his head.  "No, he seemed anxious to stay.  He
has ten robots to tinker with:  the automated crew of the Vixen."
     "Sounds like a good plan to me." nodded Jietlshaiepr.
"Sure," nodded Niedrsha, "let's do it.  It'll take a few days for
us to reach Aramat from here."
     Shtam smiled, "I will ride on the Vixen.  I can find out
what repairs she will need and make up a shopping list for
parts."
     - XXVIII -
     Sector Capital Massina Belt A000922-B
Encoded Computer File 604 Gunned Escort Flamboyant
To: Agent 604
From:  Colonel Korispatl, Chief of SORAG operations Ikar Sector
Date: 1102-105
Message:
     I have received your report on your observations of Dr. Mako
Malenkoviepr.  His disappearance has confirmed some facts
concerning the defector:  Colonel Baremkatlashche'.
     I also am in receipt of the report from forensics concerning
the analysis of the gunned escort Flamboyant.
     Your orders are to continue with your current cover in an
attempt to recover Dr. Malenkoviepr.  For this your group's
ownership of the escort has been approved.
     Colonel Baremkatlashche' has been busy it seems.  Malenkoviepr
is one of several scientists now missing.  Our agents report the
kidnapping of several prominent scientists.
     The connection between these kidnappings and Baremkatlashche'
has been found by your report.  It seems that three years ago an
expedition was mounted by SORAG agents to find the lost Imperial
Colonial Cruiser Kinunir.  The expedition was lost with all hands,
cause unknown.  The agents involved were hand picked by
Baremkatlashche'.  It is to be assumed that they did recover the
Kinunir and defected to who ever Baremkatlashche' is now working
for.  The Kinunir has also been sighted in formation with the
pirate transport Star Rider also known to be connected with
Baremkatlashche'.
     The Flamboyant it seems is an interesting case in the extreme.

The ship matches serial numbers of a gunned escort owned by the
Imperial Mega-Corporation Al Morai.  It was lost two years ago at
grid reference 0410 in the Ile subsector on the rimward extreme of
Ikar sector.  This system commonly known as "The Edge" has
presented a great problem to shipping in that for as long as
records go back, no ships have returned from there.  Lost in that
system are several Zhodani and Imperial warships, the largest and
most recent of which was the Imperial Scout Cruiser:  Bright Light
of the Azhanti High Lightning class.
     We have received reports that the Mega-Corporation Halden
Minerals has found evidence that the planet at "The Edge" is the
habitat of psionic organisms which kill starship crews by driving
them insane.  This is unconfirmed.  However, it would seem that
Baremkatlashche' and his people have solved the problem of going
there and has managed to recover the lost ships.
     This may explain why the particle accelerators have been
removed from the Flamboyant.  The accelerators were either
damaged and could not be replaced, while other more powerful
ships had priority for repair, or they were deliberately removed
to be placed on more heavily armed vessels.
     Halden Minerals may have connections with Colonel
Baremkatlashche', however, this may be difficult to track as
Halden Minerals has backers in nearly every government in the
Ikar sector.  Governments owning stock include:  The Domain of
Alntzar, The Descarothe Hedgemony, The League of Suns, The Trelyn
Domain, The Principality of Caledon, The Easmolian Confederation,
The Confederacy of Duncinae, The Grand Duchy of Marlheim, and The
Carrill Assembly.  There is also considerable stock held by the
Dakaar trading company.  You will be notified if any of these
leads prove to be fruitful.
     Analysis of materials used and techniques reveal that the
Flamboyant was modified using tech level thirteen equipment.
This matches the tech level of the Imperial Viper class fighters
found in the Air/Raft bays The welds in the ship show stresses
indicating the force of gravity on the planet where it was
modified.  Analysis shows the gravity being approximately twelve
meters per second per second acceleration.  (World size nine.)
     Gas contaminants in the welds show a high degree of
industrial pollutants.  This would indicate that either the
planet had a tainted atmosphere, or the ship was in confined in a
tainted environment when worked on.  We have compiled a list of
suspect planets in the sector.  It is interesting to note that no
planets in the Ikar sector have tech thirteen at this time.  A
few tech fourteen planets there are, but none at thirteen.
Nevertheless, we have compiled a list of possible sites for the
base where the Flamboyant was modified:

     JUNGLEBLUT SUBSECTOR
Thenstor  0101 C9C6488-A S    Independant planet            G
Mirayn    0504 D989737-7      Independant planet            G
Winder    0705 C966697-9 S    Independant planet            G
     FESSOR SUBSECTOR
Orbell    0106 C97766A-7      Trelyn Domain                 G
Shodat    0110 X944266-1      Trelyn Domain, Prison        R
     NOMANN'S SUBSECTOR
Kualakhtaea 0809 X987673-1    Independant planet, Reserve  RG
     SCOTIAN DEEP SUBSECTOR
Stirling  0605 A957865-C A    Principality of Caledon       G
Mulkins   0710 D9B4358-7      Independant planet            G
     EA SUBSECTOR
Fask      0208 C9868AA-8      Grand Duchy of Marlheim      AG
Roikhoi   0404 C969543-4      Independant planet            G
Fulton    0704 C98A788-9      Confederacy of Duncinae
     There are other possible planets, however, they have been
ruled out.  The independant planets listed could not afford such
an operation by themselves.  They are listed on the possibility
that an outside government has established a base of operations
there.
     Pirate activity appears to be centered in the Jungleblut,
Fessor, Scotian Deep, and Caledon subsectors.  Of special note is
the Zylath system in the Domain of Alntzar (Jungleblut subsector
0307).  There may be a pirate base there.
     We have received information that the pirate organization
sought to purchase ships from the vargr corsair band Uekalez.
The delivery was to be made in the Zylath system, after first
bringing the ships down from the Vargr Extents.  During this
transport, the Vixen missile platform which you have recovered
misjumped.  Upon delivery the pirates attempted to capture the
vessels rather than pay.  The resulting battle left the Uekalez
fleet damaged or captured.
     This information was obtained from survivors of the frigate
Gdaekvorr.  After the battle, the ship misjumped far into the
Consulate and were interrogated by our staff.  Five of the
corsairs are currently seeking passage out of the Consulate and
are waiting at the Massina Belt.
     They have been manipulated by our agents to seek employment
with your group.  The gunned escort requires a crew of twelve.
With the addition of these corsairs you should have an adequate
crew.  The corsairs also carry sufficient armament to be an asset
to your mission.  See their appended resumes.
     Your top priority is finding the location of Dr.
Malenkoviepr.  At this time we do not know if he was taken
willingly or not.  Should you locate him, you are required to
return him to the Consulate.  If necessary you are to eliminate
Dr. Malenkoviepr to prevent his possible collaboration with
Colonel Baremkatlashche'.
     Good Luck.

Appendix:
Corsair Force Leader  Taek Kfoks   BD9AC9 age 30
Race: Vargr
Sex:  Male
Homeworld:  Gkakhaellan
Height:  1.76 Meters
Fur Color:  Black
Eye Color:  Green
Class II Small Craft Pilot Liscence
Class I Engineer's Certificate
Class I Gunner's Liscence
Possesses an implanted radio transciever.
Leadership training and experienced liaison officer.  Contacts
     Vargr.
Equipment qualified on:  Sensors, Battle Dress, Explosives,
     Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav-Belt,
     Grav Vehicles
Combat Skills:  Experienced squadron leader.  Has achieved
     distiction as a marksman, Has reached the second level of
     mastery of unarmed combat and zero gravity combat, and edged
     weapons.  Has served as an experienced scout.  Experienced
     in ship to ship tactics.
Has attended Command College and Commando School, achieved high
distinction in Intelligence School.
Weapons and equipment owned:  3 Tillys, Battle Dress, Gauss
Rifle, Accelerator Rifle, SMG, Gauss Pistol, Snub Pistol

Corsair Force Subleader  Tuerz     1EA996 age 26
Race: Vargr
Sex:  Male
Homeworld:  Gkakhaellan
Height:  1.74 Meters
Fur Color:  Grey
Eye Color:  Yellow
Class I Small Craft Pilot Liscence
Class I Gunner's Liscence
Class I Medic Certificate
Possesses an implanted radio transciever.
Experienced in liason and forcible interrogation techniques.
Equipment qualified on:  Sensors, Vacc Suit, Explosives,
     Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav-Belt,
     Grav Vehicles
Combat Skills:  Has achieved high distiction as a hand gun
     marksman, Has reached the second level of mastery of zero
     gravity combat.  Has served as an experienced scout.
     Experienced in ship to ship tactics.
Has attended Commando school, Intelligence school.
Weapons and equipment owned:  Laser Pistol, Integral Laser
Pistol, Hypo-Gun, Grenade Pistol, Gauss Pistol, Snub Pistol &
Revolver, 8 Body Pistols, Silencers, Sniper Barrel, Flintlock
Pistol, Percussion Revolver, Hand Cannon, Combat Armor, Vacc
Suit, Reflec, Grav Belt

Corsair Force Subleader  Stuzzel   D676A6 age 30
Race: Vargr
Sex:  Male
Homeworld:  Ghaerthu
Height:  1.49 Meters
Fur Color:  Brown
Eye Color:  Light Brown
Class I Small Craft Pilot Liscence
Class I Engineer's Certificate
Class I Gunner's Liscence
Contacts Vargr.  Trained as administrator
Equipment qualified on:  Sensors, Battle Dress, Explosives,
     Computers, Heavy Weapons, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns,
     Grav-Belt, Grav Vehicles
Combat Skills:  Has reached the second level of mastery of
unarmed combat, and edged weapons.  Experienced in ship to ship
tactics.
Has recieved commando training.
Weapons and equipment owned:  Battle Dress, Broadsword, ACR, LMG,
Snub Pistol


Corsair Hand Kaezorr               874775 age 26
Race: Vargr
Sex:  Female
Homeworld:  Gkakhaellan
Height:  1.47 Meters
Fur Color:  Light Brown
Eye Color:  Green-Brown
Class II Gunner's Liscence
Instructor
Equipment qualified on:  Battle Dress, Computers, Combat and Low
     Recoil Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav Vehicles
Combat Skills:  Has achieved distiction as an accelerator rifle
     marksman, Has reached the second level of mastery unarmed
     combat of zero gravity combat.
Weapons and equipment owned:  Battle Dress, Gauss Rifle,
     Accelerator Rifle, Snub Pistol

Corsair Hand  Rackhan              C88644 age 34
Race: Vargr
Sex:  Male
Homeworld:  Ghaerthu
Height:  1.51 Meters
Fur Color:  Brown
Eye Color:  Brown
Class II Engineer's Certificate
Class I Gunner's Liscence
Experienced and resourceful computer, electronics and mechanical
     technician.
Equipment qualified on:  Battle Dress, High Energy Weapons, Heavy
     Weapons, Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav Vehicles
Combat Skills:  Has reached the first level of mastery of
     unarmed combat.
Weapons and equipment owned:  Battle Dress, ACR, LAG, Snub Pistol
(Tilly Operator)

CraftID:  Vargr Exoskeleton 'Tilly' TL=14 Cr 1,097,355
Hull:     (1/1) (400/1000) Disp=2Kl, Config=Contoured, Armor=18G,
          Loaded=3961Kg
Power:    (2/2) Fusion=370kw, Dur=75.5 Days
Loco:     (2/2) Legs=2, Road=152, Offroad=92
Comm:     Radio=Cont, Maser=Reg
Sensors:  Visual(+telescopic +Active IR)*2, Audio=Dist*2
          Spotlight, 
Off:      FGMP-14, RAM Auto Grenade Launcher, Gauss Rifle,
          Laser Welder
Def:      Smoke Ejector
Control:  Brain, HoloHUD, Slave Unit, ECP
Acccom:   Seat=Worn, BasicEnv, BasicLS
Other:    Fuel=1366liter, Heavy Arm*2, Audio Speaker,
          ObjSize=Small, EMLevel=Faint, Strength=200
     - XXIX -
     The High Consular hotel:  reservations made to nobles,
diplomats, and members of the Legion of Honor.  A posh place.
Robot servants, sophont servants.  Fine foods, and the best
luxuries that could be brought from the Consulate.  It was a show
piece for visiting diplomats.  They would see the wonders of the
Consulate and be eager to do business with them.  There are more
than one ways to conquer a sector.
     Jietlshaiepr sat nervously in the rented suite, "I've never
tried recruiting, but, it seems like we've been looking an
awfully long time.  Shtam, you ever have to do this when you were
a factor in the merchant marine?"
     Shtam ran a hand through his hair and stretched.  "No, you
have to remember though I was working inside the Imperium.  We
hired our people in the Consulate and brought them to the post.
We could not trust the Imperials.  It was an interesting time
though."
     "Where the hell were you?" yawned Niedrsha.
     "Right in the heart of the mess:  on Regina."
     A small golden sphere floated into the sumptuous room.
"Excuse the intrusion," it began in a humble voice, "There are
two Vargr here to see you.  They claim to be seeking employment
with you."
     "Send 'em in." gestured Niedrsha.
     The sphere retreated, and in a moment the main entrance to
the suite opened.
     The two stood framed in the surveying the room.  Both were
rather tall for Vargr.
     The larger of the two wore a long bright red coat emblazoned
with gold braid and ribbons.  The leader no doubt.  He strode
into the room nonchalantly taking in the entire setup in a glance
and nodded to three Zhodani.  His fur was jet black save for his
white face with white eyebrows and white hands.
     "Good evening.  My name is Kfoks:  Force Leader Taek Kfoks.
And this is my lieutenant:  Force Subleader Tuerz."  Kfoks
gestured to his companion.
     Tuerz was nearly as tall as Kfoks, but incredibly slender.
She wore a tight black body suit and skirt which showed her tall
willowy form which moved with inhuman grace as she swayed forward
as if blown by a breeze.  Her fur was flaming red-orange with a
white face and black ear tips.  Her head swung slowly around
scrutinizing the entire room.  Satisfied for the moment she stood
beside Kfoks with hands on hips thrusting her chest slightly
forward.  Her eyes continued the surveillance of the room.
     "Greetings, Force Leader Kfoks," intoned Jietlshaiepr, "I am
Jietlshaiepr, this is pilot Niedrsha and engineer Shtam."
     "You advertized for ship crew members." stated Kfoks laying
resumes on the table.  "I'm here to represent five of us.  All
with shipboard experience and expertise."
     "Very good," nodded Jietlshaiepr glancing them over.  "And
what sort of ships have you been on?"
     "Several, but we all served on a frigate." said Kfoks.
     "In what capacity?" asked Shtam.
     "Three as fighter pilots, one as a gunner and one as
engineer.  Most of us have some experience as engineers."
     "What sort of frigate was this?" wondered Shtam.
     "The Gdaekvorr:  a standard vargr frigate.  She was rather
on the old side though."
     Niedrsha leveled his gaze at Kfoks, "Were you in a corsair
band?"
     Tuerz swiveled around to face Niedrsha, her body moving as
though it were on a turntable.  She drew herself to her full
height.
     Kfoks smiled tightly, biting down.
     The bone transmitter sounded in Tuerz's skull, "No."
     "Yes, we were." nodded Kfoks.  He turned and put an arm
around Tuerz shoulder and scratched her behind the ears.  "But
that's over with for now.  Right now, we are looking for
transportation out of the Consulate, and we are more than willing
to hire on as your crew.  However, I must say that if you would
hire one of us you must hire all.  We do not wish to be broken
up."
     Tuerz laughter trilled, "I wouldn't be to sure about
Stuzzel.  He wants out any way he can."
     "I see," said Jietlshaiepr, brushing her hair back over her
shoulders and stretching gloriously.  "And if we can not
accommodate you?"
     Kfoks folded his arms, "Then you can't accommodate us."
     Shtam spoke up. "Right now we need two gunners, and three
pilots, preferably with engineering and military experience."
     Kfoks raised an white eyebrow.  "That's us."
     Niedrsha asked, "What corsair band were you in?"
     "The Uekalez.  If that means anything to you."
     "The band broke up a few months ago." said Shtam.
     Kfoks sighed, "Well, yes and no.  We are broken up.  But we
didn't do it by ourselves.  We had an awful lot of help from a
group of particularly playful humans."
     "What happened?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     Kfoks threw up a paw, "Well, we were going to sell them some
ships.  But when we delivered them, it seems that they didn't
fancy the idea of actually paying us for them.  Our leader took
exception to this.  Seems he rather liked money.  In any event
their ships fought our ships, our ships fought their ships, etc.
     "But during the battle our captain decided that the better
part of valor was cowardice and he tried to run us out of there.
But, we didn't quite make it, the jump drive was damaged.  We
misjumped far into the Consulate.  We five are the survivors,"
     "That would be from a crew of at least eight but probably
was more than twenty two." commented Shtam.
     Tuerz glanced sidelong at Shtam, "Twenty five."
     "Sounds like fun." mumbled Niedrsha.
     Kfoks made a sweeping gesture with his tail, "Piece of
mutton.  We were all in the engine room.  The rest of the ship
was torn apart.  We salvaged what we could and sold her for
scrap."
     "What band was this battle with?" wondered Niedrsha.
     "I'm afraid I haven't any idea." confessed Kfoks.  "Our
leader wasn't the confiding type.  They had a pretty large
support system though.  Good resources."
     "What makes you say so?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     "Their fleet.  They had several large warships.  Including
an Azhanti High Lightning class cruiser, a tender in the forty
thousand ton range that looked an awful lot like the Star Rider
which was destroyed, a few Zhodani and Sword Worlds ships in the
destroyer range:  two and three thousand tons, a Kinunir class
battle cruiser, and a host of other smaller ships and escorts."
     Jietlshaiepr exchanged glances with Niedrsha.
     Kfoks paused and ran his claws through the fur on his head.
"A fleet like that needs a lot of supporting equipment and bases.
I think that they must have a government subsidizing them."
     "The odd thing about the battle," he continued, "was that
while those ships were there, they didn't take much of an active
part in the battle.  They stayed off at extreme range and sent in
fighters.  And the fighters!  They sent Shtelfires and
Shorichans!  They haven't been used since the third frontier war
one hundred years ago.  And they were completely obsolete then."
     "Well," objected Shtam, "the Shtelfire was one of the best
fighters ever built, an excellent good design for tech level
twelve.  I restored one once for a museum.  The battle of
Farreach over in Jewell subsector was fought and won by young
Zhodani's in Shtelfires.  And unless I'm mistaken they were used
in the fourth frontier war by Consular client states."
     Kfoks shook his head, "That was twenty years ago.  Those
states have newer cast offs from the Consulate now."
     "Nevertheless," continued Shtam, "the Shtelfire was one of
the best fighters ever built.  They're collector's items now.
Highly effective in combat."
     "I agree," sighed Kfoks wryly, "I can testify to their
effectiveness in combat personally."
     "Where exactly did you see the Kinunir class battle
cruiser?" asked Jietlshaiepr impatiently.
     "Zylath, down in Jungleblut subsector."
     Niedrsha considered it, "That's in the Domain of Alntzar."
     "That's right."
     Jietlshaiepr exchanged glances with Niedrsha and Shtam.
"Would you care to show us exactly where?" she asked.
     - XXX -
     Warning lights and sirens announced the approaching tilly.
Like a metal tyrannosaurus, it lumbered up the ramp to the
Flamboyant's cargo hold.  Its motors whined as its piston legs
crested the cargo ramp.  It carried the crates of arms the vargr
had managed to salvage from the wreck of the frigate,
approximately one hundred and fifty kilos.
     The armored face plate of the modified cargo carrier went
down and Stuzzel poked his light brown muzzle out.  "Hey, uh,
Sitlshaper, where do you want this equipment?"
     Tuerz shook his head in disgust.  He had gotten rid of the
skirt and his fur was pure white to match his tight body suit.
The lack of breasts made his slender frame look even more frail
than before.  "Look you oaf, her name is Jietlshaiepr, and if
you'd use your head once in a while instead of getting out of
practice with it, you'd realize that the guns just might be
something we may need access to in a hurry.  Don't bury it in the
back of the hold."
     "Grrrach!  Shut up, Snow White!  Just cause you won't soil
your lily white hands..."
     Tuerz stroked the handle of his gauss pistol.
     Jietlshaiepr interrupted, "Over on the left side of the
hold, next to the food supplies." she ordered.
     "Blast these two!" she thought angrily, "If they keep
arguing I'll kill them both!  Twice!"
     Shtam watched as the tillys were used to load the
Flamboyant.  "Kfoks, how much can those things carry?"
     "The tillys?  I'm afraid it depends on how experienced the
operator inside is.  I believe the record was something like nine
hundred and eleven kilograms.  I can manage six hundred fairly
easily.  They were cargo carriers originally.  A friend of mine
modified them:  fusion gun, gauss rifle, RAM auto grenade
launcher.  They make for rather fun toys.  Rackhan's using mine
at the moment.  We have a third, but it needs repairs before we
can operate it."
     "Maybe I can help," mused Shtam.  "I'm pretty good with
machines."
     Kfoks shook his head.  "I'm afraid we need a robotics expert
Shtam.  The whole things in pieces."
     "I believe we have a robot expert."
     "Oh yes, aboard the Vixen.  Perhaps he can do it.  I want a
good look at that ship though.  I never thought I'd see that one
again.  She may have some interesting things aboard."
     "Oh?  For instance?"
     "Navigational information in the computer.  If you're right
about the Uekalez being completely broken up then perhaps we can
use ransack some of our emergency supply bases."
     "Good stuff?"
     "A start.  With it I can build up my empire."
     "Ah yes, I think I understand the vargr empire, it looks as
though you have a small start:  four followers."
     Kfoks looked Shtam straight in the eye. "As I said, it's a
start.  And revenge is always a good place to get going,
particularly when the object of that revenge is rich."
     "And powerful." warned Shtam.
     "That's where our association comes in:  we are working
towards the same end."
     "We just want the doctor back."
     "The doctor probably wants vengeance too."
     "Perhaps.  Who knows?"
     Kfoks mused a moment.  Finally he cocked his head, and
examined Shtam more closely.  "You said you restored a Shtelfire
once, did you ever get to fly one?"
     Shtam laughed, "No, unfortunately not.  The museum would
barely let me warm up the engines."
     "What museum?"
     "Oh, actually it's in the Imperium:  Regina/Regina.  I was a
factor there, and I helped them fix it up.  They didn't like the
idea of a Zhodani taking up a Zhodani built fighter over their
sector capital even if it was not armed."
     "Wait a minute, was that the Imperial war museum?"
     "Yes."
     "I've seen your work.  Good job."
     "Well, I had quite some time to work on it.  The ship I was
on had some major problems.  We had to order parts all the way
from the Consulate."
     "The Imperials didn't have the parts?"
     Shtam rolled his eyes.  "No.  But the company would not
allow us to use Imperial parts.  So we waited nine months to get
our requisition through for a Lanathnum drive core.  When it
arrived they had sent the wrong piece.  I tried to modify it, but
in the end it wouldn't charge properly.  I couldn't certify the
ship for jump, so we waited another three months.  We finally got
out."
     Kfoks eyed him intently.  "What did you think of the
Imperium?"
     "A very suspicious people.  They did not trust me very far.
Of course, I did not trust them either.  But it gave me a chance
to polish up my knowledge of ships.  Once I finished the
Shtelfire, I was allowed to work on other ships for the museum:
Rampart 128's.  Neat ships."
     "Yeah.  I like the newer Rampart IV's and V's though."
     "Yes, I prefer Zhodani models though, Kia class..."
     "Did you ever see the Imperial Aerobatics team?  The Blue
Angels?"
     "Once, they were flying modified Cobras.  Quite impressive."
     "They are using Viper 15-S's now.  And their flight leader
was one of the strangest looking beings I've ever seen:  an Ael
Yael or something.  It had wings.  I heard it was a female.  I'd
guess those things make pretty good pilots."
     "Yes, well if you or I had instincts for the air we would
too.  She was leader when I saw them.  The name was Kittan
Kboutle or something."
     - XXXI -
     "Vrrrrghsh!" grumbled Stuzzel producing a reverberating echo
in the Flamboyant's officer lounge.  "Jump space is the most
boring purgatory I've ever been in.  I think I might crawl in a
low berth and sleep through it."  The ponderous weight of the
vargr flowed and bounced as he shifted in his chair.  He yawned
and belched loudly and tossed away the dogeared magazine in a
flurry of colored pages.
     Jietlshaiepr could not read the cover of the magazine when
it fluttered to the deck, her Gveug was limited and the idiom of
the title made little sense when directly translated.  "Fragrant
White Wag" told little, the picture on the cover filled the rest:
a scantily clad young female vargr, seen from behind, perched on
top of a grav-bike.
     Her eyes rolled.  "Stupid barbarian.", she thought and
turned in disgust.
     A stinging slap ripped across her backside.  She swung round
furious.
     "You're pretty good, even if ya aien't got no tail." laughed
Stuzzel.
     Jietlshaiepr leveled her gaze on him.  Slowly, deliberately
she took hold of his collar and lifted the obese vargr to within
a few millimeters from the ceiling.  "And your pretty disgusting
mister, tail not withstanding.  I may put you in one of the low
berths anyway."  She lowered him half a meter and dropped him.
     Niedrsha looked on warily.  "Jiet will teach 'em who's boss
around here soon." he thought.  He nodded to Jietlshaiepr and
spoke:  "Look Stuzz, we've got eight jumps to make before we get
to Zylath.  I think you'd better lay off a bit if you want to get
there."
     Stuzzel snorted, "Why should I want to get there?  That's
where we got trounced by the stupid human pirates."
     "That IS the point, Mr. Stuzzel."  interrupted Kfoks.  "They
probably have a base there.  It's our opportunity to do a little
reconnaissance on them."
     "Stuff recon!" he snorted.  "I learned plenty about 'em."
     "Just what did you learn, Stuzzel?" inquired Shtam.
     "'Nough to know I don't want to fuck wif 'em!  They wiped
out our whole fuckin' fleet!  What good are we gonna do in one
escort even if we got a Vixen around?"
     "Reconnaissance, you vragh brained clod," explained Tuerz as
he flowed into the lounge gracefully, "is not a stand up fight.
Of course the idea of subterfuge might not occur to someone whose
idea of subtlety is a ton of high explosive."  He carried a large
thick wooden board peppered with small holes and the heads of a
few nail sticking out.
     He wore a blue female outfit with his visible fur dyed
cream.  At his hip swung his prize possession:  an integral laser
pistol.  He had relieved it from an Imperial merchant with more
money than marksmanship.  The pistol itself was beautiful:
iridium plated with inlaid rubies and ivory.  The merchant had
paid a great deal for it:  eight guards and his own life. Tuerz
thought it a crime for such a weapon to be in the hands of
someone who could barely use it.  A blind vargr might value a
Rembrandt, but he could never appreciate it as could one with
sight.
     He twirled a small body pistol, "Would you all mind if I set
up a bit of target practice?  I've been getting soft on my
practice sessions, and if I let it go much longer I'll be as bad
a shot as Stuzzel is with a fusion gun."
     Stuzzel snorted indignantly.
     "In here?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     "This is the longest room on the ship.  I can stand on the
bridge and shoot at this target."
     Kfoks waved at Jietlshaiepr, "Don't worry Commander.  Tuerz
won't damage anything.  He can nail a fly at five meters.
Here..."  Kfoks placed a melon on his own head and stepped in
front of the target board.  "From the hip, Tuerz."
     The pistol continued to gyrate in Tuerz paw for a moment as
Jietlshaiepr started to object.
     The body pistol barked.  A wisp of smoke issued from the
barrel.
     Kfoks pulled the melon from the crown of his head.  A neat
hole drilled precisely in the center.
     He showed it to Jietlshaiepr and then took a bite of it.
     "Very well.  Go ahead." she sighed.  "But, no more shots
like that.  I don't feel like taking the time to study vargr
cranial anatomy just to dig out slugs."
     "Can I try that one on you Tuerz?" laughed Stuzzel.
     "Shut up or I'll put a hole in your head to equalize the
vacuum." snarled Tuerz.
     For emphasis Tuerz swung around to face the target board.
Suddenly, his chest exploded.  A nail was driven into the board
with deadly accuracy.
     Tuerz turned back while a small wisp of smoke issued from
the false breasts in his disguise.
     "Nice shot." called Niedrsha.
     Jietlshaiepr sighed, "Would you Mind using a silencer?"
     - XXXII -
  Enoc E484000-0
     Kfoks surveyed the Vixen's deck.  All in order.  She had
gone through a lot before they tried to sell her.  Stressed out
bulkheads patched with whatever metal scraps that came to hand.
She was in sorry shape yes, but she could fight at least one more
battle.  After all she had only been designed to go into one
battle, she had exceeded that along time ago.
     Tuerz slipped through the airlock in female dress.  His fur
was dyed bright red to match the dress he wore.
     "Hello there."
     Kfoks turned, Tuerz whirled.  A vargr woman stood appraising
them from a corridor.  She was strongly built and very
attractive.  The lighting shone off the orange and tan of her fur
as she stood with her tail at attention with just a hint of a
slight wag.
     Kfoks own tail twitched involuntarily.  "Good evening.  My
name is Kfoks, Force Leader Taek Kfoks."  He took her hand.  "You
must be Gresha.  This is my lieutenant:  Force Subleader Tuerz."
     "Just your lieutenant, Force Leader Kfoks?" asked Gresha
nodding to the feminine Tuerz.
     "Just."
     Gresha stepped forward and ran a paw over the flowing
synsilk of his uniform.  "You were in the Uekalez weren't you?"
     "Yes we were.  But that's a long story, and where are you
from, First Lieutenant Gresha?"
     "All over, I was in several corsair bands at different
points.  Some of them got old pretty quickly.  I switched around
a lot.  I get bored without the proper attention."
     Miakr watched for a moment as they stood closely, then
loudly stepped into the room sighing inwardly.  "Well, she was
too blasted pushy anyway..."
     - XXXIII -
     "Well what do you think kid?  Can you do it?" Kfoks studied
Miakr's face trying to read the unfamiliar human expressions
crossing it.
     Miakr looked back and forth from the designs to the bulk of
the disassembled Tilly.  "Well, it's quite a job.  It'll take
some time.  You've got the parts, but as for labor, if you were
to get this repaired professionally, I'd guess the labor alone
would be about one hundred and thirty five thousand."
     Kfoks's tail dropped.  "You'll get it."
     "Do you have it?"
     Kfoks paused.  "Not yet, but soon."
     "You might not have to pay in cash." Miakr confided softly.
     This human may be more shrewd than he acts.  "What exactly
are you after?"
     "Nothing specific... yet.  But you will certainly owe me a
favor."
     "Payment like that," thought Kfoks, "is usually more
expensive than the cash."
     - XXXIII -
     Welles E655632-3
     "The Vixen is still with us!" announced Miakr looking into
the navigation equipment.  "Two more jumps left to Zylath."
     "Any contacts?" asked Niedrsha.
     "Uuuh... well we've got some neutrino emissions, I think,
but..."
     "Here, Miakr, let me see."  Miakr stood and moved away for
Jietlshaiepr.  "Hmm. looks like about five emission sources:
three strong emitters, two small.  They're at extreme range.
Largest contact:  one thousand tons, seven point five gigawatt
reactor.  The other two large contacts are four hundred tons
each, nine gigawatts... must be warships.  The last two are only
two hundred tons, five hundred megawatts."
     "Viepchakl!  A nuclear explosion!"  The thousand tonner was
hit.  Picking up communications."
     The radio buzzed with static.
     "Interference from the blast." Jietlshaiepr stated tensely.
"It'll clear in a moment...  Identification coming up...  I make
the two four hundred tonners out as Imperial SDB's...  The one
thousand ton reads out as a type CD droyne cruiser.  The two
hundreds are type AD droyne free traders."
     Niedrsha hit the intercom, "Battle stations!  All hands to
battle stations!  Red alert!  Repeat, red alert!  This is no
drill!"
     "Static's cleared."  said Jietlshaiepr forcefully.
     A small squeaky voice came over speaking droyne.  The small
creature whistled and cried shrilly.
     A male human voice cut in speaking english, "Attention alien
vessels, that was a warning, you will surrender now or be
destroyed."
     A female human voice announced.  "This is the scout ship
Spindleman from the League of Suns calling droyne vessels.  We
are coming to your assistance."
     The human male voice broke back in.  "That won't help you.
It will take them four hours to reach you.  Surrender now,
aliens, or be destroyed."
     The woman came back on line, "Spindleman to unidentified
SDB's, you are ordered to cease fire.
     Shtam came over the intercom, "It has to be the pirates!
But, what are they doing in system defence boats?  How did they
jump in system?"
     Niedrsha looked Jietlshaiepr in the eye, "You're in command,
Jiet.  We go in?"
     Jietlshaiepr slammed her fist into the console.  "Intercept
course, all ahead flank!  Miakr, you'd better program the Vixen!"
     "I'm on it."  Miakr started typing in the attack orders and
target selections.
     "Attention, fighters, immediate launch.  Kfoks, you Tuerz
and Stuzzel intercept and attack pirate SDB's."
     Acceleration piled on the ship straining the inertial
compensators.  A thud ran through the ship as the Flamboyant's
gig slipped into space.
     "Flamboyant one away." announced Kfoks.
     Two more shocks jolted the ship.
     "Flamboyant two away." called Tuerz.
     "Flamboyant three away." grumbled Stuzzel.  "We can't take
on SDB's in these fighters!  It's crazy!  We'll never hit 'em!"
     "Cut the chatter Flamboyant three." called Kfoks annoyed,
"Accelerate to attack speed!"
     The three flew off in formation.  Seconds later the Vixen
confirmed that it had the correct targets and sped off hot on the
tails of the fighters.
     "The droyne are returning fire!" shouted Jietlshaiepr.  "I
read one SDB has been hit twice...  Blast their armor!  It didn't
do any thing I can read...  Well, the Spindleman won't be much
good, I read her out as a standard type S Scout... She's got some
guts taking on two ships four times her size."
     "This is Flamboyant one, we will be in range in three
minutes."
     Jietlshaiepr read off "The SDB's are firing again.
Viepchakl!  I hope they're still there in three minutes...  The
missiles were shot out of the sky but one laser hit on the
cruiser...  Possible loss of fuel, I read outgassing...  The
droyne ships can't seem to lock onto the SDB's well enough...
All their shots are missing...  The SDB's too maneuverable...  We
have to get in there fast...  Time to range mark?"
     "Ten minutes, thirty five seconds." answered Niedrsha.
     Jietlshaiepr turned to the intercom, "Gunners stay sharp,
range in ten minutes."
     She jerked to attention.  "Two more contacts bearing in...
One has a one point five gigawatt reactor...  One hundred tons...
The other... five hundred megawatts... two hundred tons...  Must
be a freighter...  The one hundred tonner will intercept droyne
in two minutes.  The two hundred tonner... in twenty seven...  I
read the one hundred tonner out as a tech nine SDB... the two
hundred tonner is... a Fanzheinz class free trader..."
     Jietlshaiepr turned to the communications station, "Tight
beam transmit... Spindleman come in, this is the gunned escort
Flamboyant, just arrived in system... come in... we are offering
assistance to distressed droyne convoy... request target
verification."
     "Spindleman to Flamboyant.  Assistance accepted.  What
information do you require?"
     "Target identification, I have multiple contacts:  Two
droyne traders, one droyne cruiser, two four hundred ton SDB's, a
one hundred ton SDB, and a Fanzheinz class free trader.  Request
identification of hostiles."
     "Flamboyant hold... have no knowledge of any SDB's in your
area, must be considered hostile... Fanzheinz unknown... will
attempt communication for verification... proceed with caution.
Good luck.  Out."
     "Flamboyant to Flamboyant flight leader... Kfoks, alter
course to... one five dash zero niner... intercept one hundred
ton SDB bearing in on convoy... identified as hostile...  Over."
     "Flight leader to Flamboyant... Acknowledged...  Target in
sight.... Flight leader to two and three, arm all weapon systems.
Open fire on my mark, use high explosive missiles batteries.
This isn't worth a nuke."
     The speeding SDB bore in on the convoy not noticing its
small pursuers neutrino traces.  Still out of range of the droyne
guns, she didn't bother to evade but bore in on an arrow straight
course:  nice and easy to track and lock on.
     "Flamboyant flight:  fire!"
     Two missiles streaked away from the Vipers.  The gig's laser
lanced out unseen in the vacuum.  The SDB shook under the shock
of its turret ionizing under a storm of X-ray photons.  One
missile zeroed in closing the gap homing on the startled SDB.  A
brief flash lit the SDB against the stars.  Hydrogen burst into
the vacuum obscuring her outlines for a moment.  She tumbled a
moment, quickly stabilized, but the engines fired erratically and
quit.  Still moving under the momentum of the attitude jets, it
began to tumble again slowly.
     Jietlshaiepr read the sensors "It's reactor is fading...
looks like you blasted the fuel tanks.  Good shooting."
     Kfoks voice beamed over the radio, "Piece of mutton,
Flamboyant.  She didn't even evade."
     "That missile hit was mine of course." sighed Tuerz, "Stupid
didn't get a proper lock on a non-evading target."
     "How are you so sure you hit?" growled Stuzzel, "We fired at
the same time."
     "I know it was mine because it hit."
     "Shut up!" barked Kfoks, "Flamboyant, what's the I.D. on the
Fanzheinz?"
     "Spindleman to Flamboyant, Fanzheinz refuses to answer
challenge.  Must be considered as hostile."
     "We're on it." answered Kfoks.  "Flamboyant flight bear two
seven dash two five."
     Jietlshaiepr read the sensors:  "One droyne trader's engines
are out... the other's fuel is hit...  The cruiser's engines are
damaged but she's still maneuvering...  One SDB lost some fuel
too...  The Vixen should open fire right about now..."
     The Vixen swooped into battle range at six G's maneuvering
wildly.  Missiles belched from her bay and turrets streaming out
like a cloud of bats swarming from a cave.  The SDB's lasers
leapt out to stem the onslaught, but the defenses were swamped.
The turrets of one vaporized instantly as they were lost in a
flare of nuclear fire.  The missile racks of the second were
shaken and bent by the introduction of high explosive.
     The droyne cruiser's lasers swept out seeking the enemy.
Missiles flew past as the SDB's evaded, but the lasers struck
home leaving the first SDB's missile racks all but smashed.
     The pirates returned fire at the new arrived menace.  Lasers
and missiles zeroed in on the twisting Vixen.  Robots however do
not appreciate near misses or close calls.  The engines of
destruction swept on impotently.
     Another salvo of missiles blazed forth at the pirate SDB's.
The ships turned to flee as they streamed in like sharks to a
kill.  The monstrous bulk of the missiles flew on into the
vacuum, save the best for last.  The Vixen's nukes slammed into
the fleeing pirate.  Her turrets became slag as they were
irradiated, buckling armor plates around them.
     Simultaneously the Fanzheinz class free trader turned and
ran on the same heading.
     Kfoks voice came over the communicator, "Flamboyant flight
to Flamboyant.  Target vessel now running.  Request permission to
pursue."
     "Negative, flight leader." answered Jietlshaiepr.  "They are
on a rendezvous course with enemy SDB's.  Not even the Vixen can
do much against their armor.  Get back here, the droyne may
require assistance."
     "The pirates are still firing at the droyne convoy."  She
continued, "Why?  Don't they know they've lost them?  They've
disabled the second trader's engines and I can't tell what they
did to the cruiser."
     The Vixen flew on in hot pursuit loosing missiles as she
ran.  The missiles crashed through the pirate's armor silencing
the last of their guns.
     "Miakr, call back the Vixen, their on the run and she can't
seem to disable them."
     "Right, here she comes.  Good girl!  She chased 'em off."
     Jietlshaiepr punched the radio, "Flamboyant to droyne
convoy...  Repeat, Flamboyant to droyne convoy, do you require
assistance?... Droyne convoy come..."
     A tiny voice broke through a wave of static, "This cruiser
Chekbas droyne is.  All ships droyne damaged been have.  Drone
medic of Trader Kivas killed been has.  Wounded aboard are.
Medic aboard have you?"
     "Viepchakl," she thought, "how much do I really know about
droyne anatomy?"
     "Affirmative, we have a doctor aboard.  I may require
assistance with droyne physiology.  Do you require assistance
with damage control?"
     "Cruiser Chekbas:  maneuver drive damaged, two laser
batteries destroyed.  Trader Kivas:  computer destroyed, maneuver
drive damaged.  Trader Shoolist:  hold destroyed, maneuver drive
damage repair complete.  Streamlining trader's both destroyed."
     "Acknowledged.  We will aide the Kivas.  Estimate rendezvous
and docking in... two minutes.  Be prepa..."
     "Oh, Shiviepchakl..."
     The neutrino detector was going mad.  Twelve readings of
nine gigawatts, one reading of six hundred.
     Radar crosscheck...  Confirmed...  Targets closing...
Twelve four hundred ton SDB's...  One forty thousand ton ship of
the line....
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
AND YOU KNOW SOMETHING'S HAPPENING,
     BUT YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS.
          DO YOU, MR. JONES?

     by
Scott Kellogg

     - I -
You walk into the room like a camel and you frown.
You put your eyes in your pocket,
and your nose on the ground.
There ought to be a law against
you comin' 'round
You should be made to wear ear phones.
     And you know something's happening,
     but you don't know what it is.
     Do you Mr. Jones?
          "Ballad of a thin man" -Bob Dylan
     Silence...
     Silence...
     I'm lying in a vast black void.  How long have I been here?
Days?...  Years?...  Millennia?...  Hmm.  That's a problem.  I
believe I am Doctor Mako Malenkoviepr.  Well... I was the last
time I checked.  Or am I?  Or AM I?  Do I really exist?  Does
anything exist?  Or is it all an illusion in my mind?  I wonder
if I could be an illusion in someone else's mind?... So many
questions...  No answers...
     Does it matter?  Even if it does matter, does it matter that
it matters?
     All I can really say is:  apparently, I am.
     AAARRRRRR!! WHOAAAAH!  HEY!  That's cold!  What's going on?
Brrr!...
     It's gone now...  What was that?
     Yes, I am.  And there's no apparently about it.  But, who is
it that says I am?  In other words, who am I?  Hmmm.  Oh yes, I
think I know...
     Where am I.  Can't see a thing.  Total blackness.  But I'm
thinking a lot clearer now:  I know who I am anyway...  That's a
start.
     I'm lying on something.  I can feel a floor.  "Ok, let's
stand up doctor."
     Well, I can hear my voice any way....
     Try to stand.  Muscles are slow.  Ouch.  Stiff too.  But,
now that I'm standing, where am I?  I still can't see.

     A ring of luminous fog suddenly glowed around the doctor's
legs.  Slowly, as though it were wavelets spreading out from a
stone dropped in a pond, the fog spread out slowly illuminating a
huge endless sea of thigh deep fog.
     A buzzing sound swept in from behind the him.  He whirled to
face it.  But as he turned it was fading off in the distance.
Another flew in from overhead but was off to the horizon before
he saw it.
     A third swept in.
     He turned to face it and saw a vague shape headed straight
for his face.
     He dropped to the ground, covering his head, shutting his
eyes tight.

     Hey, I'm in a house!

     A comfortable study spread around Dr. Malenkoviepr.  Wood
paneling, a warm oil lamp, a large wooden desk, huge bookshelves,
hundreds of books.
     And what books!  I remember these...  Here are my old text
books on telepathy... awareness... physics... psychology...
sophontology... Wow, there's all my old children's books!  'Burt
Dow Deep Sea Fisherman', 'How and Why Book of Starships'
'Millions of Cats', 'Vlezhdames and the Giant Peach'.  I haven't
seen these in years!
     He picked up a book:  Oh yes, Burt Dow and Giggling Gull in
the Idely Tidely... I was about five years old.
     Here's one I don't remember.  What is this?
     A red hologram album.  Baby pictures of me.  Me at ten years
old.  Hey there's Chewersta!  I wonder what ever happened to her?
I haven't heard from her since I was nineteen... Hey! what's
this?  A hologram of us in the woods?  That's not possible...
There weren't any cameras around there...  Now this is getting
ridiculous...  Where did this hologram of us come from?...
     The buzzing swept in at the open window.
     Through the window was the sea of fog sweeping out to the
horizon.  Out of the black sky swept long fingerlike tendrils of
fog.  Reaching, grasping, probing.  They were almost to the
house.  Reaching out to grab...
     Mako slammed the window.  Outside, the silence was broken by
a huge gust of wind as the tendrils hit the house.  Whistling and
howling sounded all around.  The other window's in the house were
all Wide open.
     Got to move fast.  Close all the windows!  Move.
     Quickly, he ran into the next room.  The fingers were
sweeping up to the window.  Slam the window!  Lock it!
     Next room!  Again the probing tendrils were almost inside
when Mako slid the lock home.
     Mako flew about the house slamming windows and shooting the
bolts of the locks.  The tendrils flew to one window and the
next, and the next, and the next, and the next...  Down to the
first floor, to the large window next to the door, and the
kitchen, and the den, and...
     Just how many windows are there in this flaming house?
     He ran to the last window and slammed it down.  The glass
rattled as he shot the bolt.
     The wind battered impotently outside the windows.
     Ha!  They're all locked!  You can't get in!
     Wait... I didn't lock the window in the study!
     Up the stairs and on the right!  Run!  Go!  Go!  GO!  Into
the study!
     Suddenly, the window burst open.  Streamers of fog shot into
the room and flew about like confused birds.
     Slam the window and lock it!
     As the lock slid in place, the fog tendrils faded and
disappeared.
     Safe...  Silence...
     Mako slid to the floor, tired, but safe for the moment.

     Slowly, a book began to pull itself off the shelf.
     A telepathy text book opened by itself and it's pages began
to flip.
     He stared at the book as he lay on the floor."WHO ARE
YOU!?!"
     More pages began to flip.
     Malenkoviepr jumped up, grabbed the book and put it back on
the shelf.
     Slowly, a physics text came off the shelf, and began to read
itself.
     Contemptuously, he put that one back too.
     Slowly, several more books started abandoning the shelves
and reading themselves.
     Mako collected them, and shoved them back.
     A torrent of books flew off the shelves and began to flip
their pages.
     Angrily, Malenkoviepr grabbed for them, but as one went back
another came out...  And another...  And another...
     A mad contest of book pushing developed.  Books flying,
pages flipping.  Shelves revolting.

     Someone was laughing.

     Malenkoviepr shoved the last book on the shelf back.  He
growled angrily at the thought that someone was enjoying this
somehow.
     One last book lay on the desk.  The red hologram album.
     Slowly, it opened itself.
     Fury enveloped Malenkoviepr.  He turned to grab the book.
Suddenly, he was walking in glue.  Paralyzed, watching the
nightmare world around him.  He watched as the book slowly
proceeded to show his life story in holograms.
     Born to a low, low station...  Baby pictures...  First
teeth...  First steps...  Psi testing...  First time meeting a
Droyne...  First school...  Becoming an Intendant...  Living with
the Droyne...  First girl friend...  First lover...  College...
Becoming a Droyne...  Becoming a Noble...  Joining SORAG...
First assignment...  Second assignment...  The ancient base...
The ancient warriors...  Their decision...  Orders...  Counter
Orders...  The destruction of the base...  The explosion...
     The next page appeared black.
     The page appeared to split into two opening doors.  On the
page, Dr. Mako Malenkoviepr, Honorary Droyne marched into his
superior's office.  The letter in his hand addressed:
"Lieutenant Baremkatlasche'.  Personal.":  The resignation.  He
paced angrily about the office shouting at Baremkatlasche'.  The
fool didn't understand the Droyne way, never would.  He could not
expect Malenkoviepr to prevent them from being what they are.
You can not make iridium into tin.  You can not make night into
day.  But the idiot didn't understand.  Wouldn't even try to
understand.
     I resign.  I will not be pushed around any more.  I refuse
to go against what I know is right.  Science is to improve life,
not destroy it.  Baremkatlasche's goals are not improvement, but
enslavement.  Any work for SORAG will be subverted.
     I resign!
     Doctor Mako Malenkoviepr slammed his the envelope onto
Baremkatlasche's desk with all his psionically enhanced strength.
A mug on the desk flew up a meter in the air fell back and
shattered.
     The page went black again.
     Suddenly, the hologram split open again.  Malenkoviepr
marched into Baremkatlasche's office a second time.  A second
time, he told his superior off.  A second mug smashed.
     I resign!
     A third time the hologram replayed itself.  A third mug
smashed.
     I resign!!
     A Forth...
     I resign!!!
     Fifth...
     I Resign!!!!
     I RESIGN!!!!!
     Malenkoviepr screamed out in fury.  He jumped to the desk
where the album laid.  Grabbed it.  Slammed it back into the book
shelf, and shouted out in psionic fury and hate, "I RESIGN!!!!!"
     A psionic right cross whipped out into the blackness.
     Suddenly, Malenkoviepr was back drifting in the black void.
     But I felt the punch connect...
     - II -
     The Interrogator shook her dark hair from her shoulders.
"The subject has exceptional psionic strength and determination."
     "How long will it take?"
     "Unknown, I will have to make some further tests.  But a
direct attack is not indicated here:  his defenses are too well
laid."
     - III -
Leave your cares behind.
Come with us and find
the pleasures of the
journey to the center of the mind.
Come along if you care
Come along if you dare
Take a ride to the land inside of your mind.
Beyond the seas of thought,
beyond the realm of what's
across the streams
of hopes and dreams
where things are really hot.
          -The Amboy Dukes:  Journey to the Center of the Mind
     Malenkoviepr bounced down the beach at top speed.  The grav
harness absorbed most of his weight, but still gravity dragged at
him, keeping him grounded where evolution had put him.  Wind
gusted and he threw wide his metal wings.  He rose over the
windswept seas of Tesser.
     Tesser.  Land of the Droyne.  Home.
     His silver wings tugged pleasantly at his muscles as he
pulled himself aloft.  The winds were his.  He rose higher
seeking out the updrafts as he tacked up wind.  The rolling sea
below him shouted a challenge up to him and he dove to combat.
     Screaming down over the waves he dipped and rolled over the
blue foam.  The wave tips set up a deadly obstacle course that he
swept through with ease.  One dipped wing tip and he would drown:
no one can swim with five meters of wing span strapped on his
arms.
     Briefly he thought of the greater ease of regulation grav
belts, but no grav belt gave the user actual flight.  Altitude
must be fought for.  Flight is not mere movement while aloft but
a sonnet of motion.  Wings lend grace, poise, flow.
     The Droyne, his adopted people disdained grav belts.  Even
Mako's artificial wings seemed little better than crutches
compared with wings of flesh, bone and sinue.
     But even the Droyne were not the captains of the air.  Their
stubby wings were almost vestigial.  Evolution had turned them
away from the air.  Many of them could not fly at all.
     Of all intelligent creatures yet found, only one race truly
lived in the air.  The two Ael Yaels flew circled overhead.
     They soared on the blustery sea winds of Tesser.  Bat like
wings stretched five meters in wing span gave them the edge over
the tiny wings of the Droyne.  Their golden skin flashed in the
light of Tesser's sun as Mako rose on flashing wings to join
them.
     The two creatures were truly alien in flesh and mind.  They
evolved in a totally different ecological niche from Humans.
Aerial carnivores, nearly solitary creatures.  Far from Humans
and Droyne.  For example they had never developed a thing called
a government.  Trying to explain a nation to them was like
explaining sexual reproduction to an amoeba.
     They had the one system of running their planet no Human
world ever could even attempt:  anarchy.  (That which governs
best, governs least.)  Thus, they could safely be invited into
the Consulate, despite the fact that they were Imperial citizens,
For to them there was no great difference between one group of
humans and another.  Humans all acted the same to them.
     In a flash the two came together and rose almost vertically
in an ascending corkscrew, describing by their motion a double
helix.  Slowly they reached for each others talons.  As they
touched and grasped each other, they folded back their wings and
stalled.  They fell in a double hammerhead that sent them
plunging down.  Down toward the waves, they tumbled out of
control clinging to each other.
     Slowly, with great reluctance they released the others
talons and pulled out of the roaring dive and sped off with a
flash of golden wings in close formation.
     Mako banked and flipped just for the sheer joy of it.  He
leapt from wind to wind as an acrobat of the sky.  The winds gave
a thunderous applause as he flipped over into a showman's outside
loop coming out in a hammer head of his own.
     "CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH!" Kittan's warning crossed languages and
jolted him back to awareness of their mission.  Four frigate
birds flew in towards the emerging baby sea turtles.  Odd, how
the ancients had brought both species this far from Earth.  Mako
rolled and dove in hot pursuit.
     Hloch made the first pass at the flock of attackers.  The
carnivore's talons flashed, striking one from the air.  The other
three cried out in surprise and banked away.  Hloch dropped down
and caught his prey as it fell and sunk his teeth in.
     Kittan veered off after one of the frightened hunters.  The
frigate bird swooped avoiding her claws but not quick enough to
avoid her powerful tail.  The crushing blow nearly severed the
creatures wings and it went plummeting to the ground.  She dove
and caught the falling victim.
     Mako came into the fray slower than the others as the
remaining two frigate birds realizing they weren't pursued closed
back on the helpless turtles struggling across the sand.  Mako
had no claws or tail but simply battered both with his wings,
blasting them from the air.
     The sea turtles crawled on to the open ocean and safety as
the three scientists provided their air cover.
     On the ground the two Aels exchanged their catches and
proceeded to tear into the carcasses with vigor, feasting
hungrily on the bloodied birds.
     Mako swung in and landed close by.
     "Good hunting, Mako!" called Hloch.  The creature leapt to
retrieve one of the birds Mako had killed.  Hloch washed it
briefly in a tidal pool and held it out to Mako as he unstrapped
his arms from his silvery wings.
     It was a mess:  wing and neck broken, bleeding from the
eyes.  Mako grimaced at the sight of it as the alien scientist
held it, his face covered in the blood of his mate's kill.  He
seemed puzzled.
     Mako glanced into the Ael's mind.  "Why does this human not
take his own catch?  Does he intend to waste it?"
     At last Kittan spoke up.  "You two have been studying each
other for some time now.  Hloch, haven't you seen humans don't
like blood?  And you Mako, do you not see that we never hunt for
sport?"
     For a moment they stood watching each other, then Mako took
the carcass and carefully broke off it's wing.  The rest he
presented to Kittan who bowed her thanks and shredded the bird's
remains.  The other bird was presented to Hloch.
     He examined the wing he still held and attempted to gnaw it.
It was tough for his omnivorous teeth to pick apart raw, as the
Ael Yaels did, but it was for appearances anyway.
     Mako thought to himself, "Well, you were the one who wanted
to study avian sophonts weren't you?"
     - IV -
     "Well?"
     The Interrogator nodded, "The subject is responding to the
new direction of attack."
     "Turn up the pressure.  We need him."
     - V -
Come along if you care
Come along if you dare
Take a ride to the land inside of your mind.
But please realize,
you'll probably be surprised.
For it's a land unknown to man
where fantasy is fact.
So if you can,
please understand:
You might not come back.
          -The Amboy Dukes:  Journey to the Center of the Mind
     Malenkoviepr was alone on the beach.  A dark haired frigate
bird was sweeping in towards the crawling baby sea turtles.
     The gauss rifle came into his arms.
     Must protect the turtles!
     He opened up the gauss rifle on full automatic.  Ten rounds
of gauss needles went into the bird at hypersonic velocity.  Red
mist came down.  Tiny red fragments hit the ground.
     A great whirling noise came up behind him.  Slowly he turned
and saw a great dark cloud.  The cloud whirred and flowed as it
came.  A huge cloud looking like a flowing amoeba.
     It began to resolve itself into components.
     Hundreds upon thousands of frigate birds.
     Malenkoviepr grabbed a mounted VRF gauss gun.
     The air thundered with their wings as they came.
     The gauss gun vomited steel into the cloud.
     Hundreds dropped.  With their eyes open...
     They kept coming.
     The gauss gun rattled and thundered.  The cloud turned from
black to red.
     Still they came.
     One hundred meters...  One hundred fell...  Ninety meters...
Five hundred fell...  Seventy meters...  Five thousand fall...
Fifty meters...  Fifty thousand fell...  Forty meters...  One
million...  Five million...  Ten million...  Fifty million...
     All with their eyes open...
     The sky runs red with blood and feathers... Death wears a
hat and carries a VRF gauss gun...
     The eyes still stare...  Millions of dead eyes looked up
from the sand.
     The turtles crawl on towards the sea and safety...
     "The waves are retreating... The tide's going out...
They'll never reach it..."
     The sky was a bone white sclera, the setting sun, an iris
and pupil of a giant piercing blue eye.
     Slowly, the pupil expanded and swallowed the sky.
     Mako kicked a dead frigate bird splattering the sand black.
Slowly, it began to ooze a vile smelling black liquid onto the
sand.
     The blackness flowed across the sand to another frigate bird
corpse.  The second began to flow, and slowly it spread.  The
carcasses becoming gaunt as their blackness flowed freely from
them.
     A red orange glow came from behind Mako.  Slowly, he turned
to look.  Behind him the beach was littered with birds.  It
seemed to glow red all around him.
     He was looking into the eyes of a dead bird.  It was gutted
by a gauss needle and was bleeding black.
     The eyes caught the reflection of the rising reddish moon.
It hung on the horizon and seemed to grow deeper and deeper red.
     As the moon glowed so did the reflection in the eyes of the
carcasses on the beach.  The glow waxed as the sun waned.
Brighter and brighter and colder and colder, the eyes glowed like
tiny cigarettes, flaming... staring...
     The carcasses melted slowly and flowed across the sand.
All the while, the eyes stayed focused on Malenkoviepr.
     The blackness began to flow together.
     The slime climbed onto itself mounting and molding itself as
it flowed together with its flaming red eyes staring.  A hideous
parody of human legs began to form as the black ooze lumped
together.
     The blackness seeped up the legs and began to form a torso.
Higher and higher it rose.  Soon it was two meters tall and still
growing.  Distorted faces appeared in the mire of the forming
thing.
     Slowly, the thing formed itself into a grotesquely fat and
flabby torso.  A lump of a faceless head came into being.
Shoulder stumps began to shape themselves and then lengthen into
arms.
     Revolted, Mako grabbed the VRF gauss gun, swivelled it on
its mount and fired straight into its quivering flab of a belly.
     The gauss needles ripped open the black ooze, spattering it
like pudding.  The edges of the hole waved back like lips.
     Jagged teeth appeared in the gaping hole and the mouth shut
itself with a snap erasing any trace that it ever had been there.
     Mako pulled the trigger for another blast.
     Nothing happened.
     Quickly he rechecked the gun.  All in order?  Then fire!
     The gun kicked in its mount.  The projectiles flew into the
oozing black form, splattering the black ichor.
     The gun began to thump.
     Mako glanced down at the gun and back at the black figure.
The gun was firing sloppy black lumps of filth into the thing.
The globules were slamming into the blob, adding to its loathsome
mass.
     Quickly, Mako released the trigger.
     The gun continued to fire.  The thing was growing.
     He tried to turn the gun away from the thing.  The mount was
frozen.  He hammered on it with his fists.
     The gun continued to chug out the lumps of black ichor.  It
was growing.  Five meters tall and growing.  It towered into the
darkening sky, a quivering slime of a human blob.  The thing
flowed and shuddered as the slime jetted from the VRF gauss gun
into its abhorrent form adding to its bulk as it grew... topping
ten meters and still growing.
     It leaned the lump of its head back.  A cavernous, blood red
maw opened up and it let out a gurgling, strangling roar.  A
cloud of stench billowed from its gaping mouth like the rotting
of an open grave, while black ichor dripped onto its lump of a
torso.  The ichor flowed across the thing and reformed as part of
its huge frame:  twelve meters and climbing.
     The head came forward and glowered at Mako with a blind
face.  Slowly, two pits formed above the sealed gape of the
mouth.  The pits began to get covered over as eyes began to form.
     Mako backed away in horror from the forming beast, watching
as the pits molded closed lids over the rapidly growing eyes.  He
turned and ran as the thing towered past fifteen meters of
loathsome flabby filth.
     The darkness shrouded the beach with a purple sky while the
blood red moon stared at the scene.
     Mako ran across the sand to the dunes with his pulse
pounding in his ears.  Slick, spiky dune grass slashed at his
clothes as he ran over the sand shredding the fabric like razors.
Through the torn cloth, the blades sliced at his flesh.  His skin
ran wet with sweat and blood.
     He reached the foot of the first dune and climbed up the
steep sand pile on all fours.  The sand bit at the cuts on his
hands as though the skin was being peeled away from his bones
layer by layer.
     He topped the dune and glanced back.
     A hundred meters away, the thing's eye lids opened.  Inside
the eye was gloss black.  Dimly, a tiny red glow pulsed inside
the pit of the eyes.  It glowed dimly and then faded to
blackness,  then again it began to glow a little brighter than
before.  Again it faded away.  More brightly, the eye pulsed like
a beacon.  It glowed and flickered like a bright flame caught in
a wind.
     Then the eyes lit up brightly in a flaming blood red.
     Mako fled across the dune and into a dead forest.  The
leafless trees were sparse and monstrous while the blood moon
stared down at him.
     In the distance a thunderous sucking sounded like a foot
being pulled from a mire.  Then a pile driver came down and
smashed the ground.
     The thing had begun to walk.
     Mako ran under the sparse cover of the dead trees, the
sucking pile driver still coming:  battering its way after him.
He ran and ran through the wasteland forest.  Every few meters a
tree blocked his path and he narrowly avoided hitting them as he
ran through the darkness.
     The sucking pile drivers came closer as he ran.  Quickly, he
changed course in hope the thing would follow the straight line
he'd been going on.
     For a moment he couldn't tell where the thing was going it
seemed to hesitate and then strike after him again following
closely.
     The sky light up with the red searchlights of its eyes as it
sought him.  A huge ripping sound came as trees began to be torn
from their roots as it passed through.  The stench of its breath
came down and hugged the ground like a fog.
     Suddenly, it was in front of Mako.  The red eyes towered
over the trees glowering at him.
     His heart in his mouth, Mako skidded to a stop.  He turned
and jumped...
     He sailed over the trees and into the night sky.  The trees
reached out their branches after him, but he flew over them.
     Slowly, he reached the top of his an and began to come down.
He clawed at the wind, but to no avail.
     Down he came through the slicing branches of the dead trees.
He landed in a thigh deep fog.  The ground squished under his
feet as he skidded to a stop.
     Again, he leapt into the air and safety.  "A few more jumps
like this and that thing will Never find me..."
     The prodigious leaps carried him fifty meters at a time.
Soon, he was out of the forest and on a fog covered plain.  His
heart soaring as he left the grotesque abhorrence far behind,
sucking and roaring impotently after him.
     "So long sucker!" he called after it as he reached the top
of an arc.  Slowly, he descended to the fog and sank in thigh
deep before touching the wet sloppy ground.
     The mud grabbed at his feet pulling him down.  He was up to
his calves and still going down.  He kicked at the muck as he
sank deeper.
     It flowed up his legs and over his abdomen.  He grabbed for
the plain grass growing in the mud, but it tore from its roots
leaving nothing to pull on.
     He sank up to his chest in bog stench with only his arms and
head above the stinking ooze.
     Red searchlights swept the horizon as the thing followed his
path.  Closer and closer it came.  Mako huddled down in the fog
trying to hide, but the fog was thinning rapidly at the thing's
approach.
     He could hear its sloppy pounding footsteps as it came on.
     Mako struggled desperately in the mire, grabbing for
anything to pull him out; but nothing came to hand and the mud
was too thick to swim and too liquid to support him.
     The thing reached the edge of the bog for it's pounding
steps turned ponderously to sloppy sucking sounds.
     It gurgled and howled its triumph.  The red eyes stared at
him as he struggled in the mire, illuminated in the beam of the
blood red search lights.
     "CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH!!!!!" sounded from the sky as a
whirling winged form dove from the red moon in the sky.
     Mako barely recognized the Ael Yael before Hloch's talons
sunk into his shoulders and began beating wings over his head
trying to lift the trapped scientist.
     Agonizingly, millimeter by millimeter Mako began to rise
from the slime.
     Suddenly, the thing saw its caught prey escaping and
screamed in a horrible high pitched whistle.  It began pounding
across the bog sinking up to its knees in the muck.
     Hloch pulled and strained against the suction of the bog as
it pulled at Mako.
     The thing was upon them.  It screamed a gurgling laugh and
swatted the Ael Yael scientist to the ground.
     Hloch smashed into the muck with his wings crushed.  He did
not move.
     It reached for Malenkoviepr.  Outstretched, barrel thick
fingers stuck into the bog around him like a cage.  Over him the
hand of death closed in a fist blotting out the skies.  The ichor
flowed over his body and up his neck.
     It was cold as a winter slaughter house ripping the warmth
from him as it flowed up his neck and over his face.  He clamped
his mouth tight but it crept up his nose and into his throat
slowly, agonizingly filling his mouth and lungs.  Mako suffocated
as the slime oozed over him.
     The universe faded into blackness as Mako drowned in the
filth.
     - VI -
I'm so tired
I haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired
My mind is on the blink
     "I'm So Tired" -The Beatles

     Hmmmmmmmmmmm?  Oh...  Well maybe...  I'm tired...  Look, I'm
reeeally tired...
     And anyway, I'm dead...  You shouldn't be bothering me when
I just died...  Why do you ask me all these questions?...
     What's that?  Oh... I've seen one before...  Ancients you
say?...  Oh, I know.  It's a disintegrator.
     How's it work?  Oh, don't worry about that some of my best
friends don't know how they work...  It's reeeally quite neat.
Lllllike a laser... sort of... but the particles it fires - sim-
stimulated emission - radiation are NOooooooooOT photons... Know-
what-I-mean?
     Oh, wellll...  just as photons int... inter... in-ter-react
with e-lec-trons and pro-tons... the particles from the disint...
well instead of exciting the e-lec-trons and heating the atom
up... well these particles are... the particular elem... (excuse
me) elements of the nuclear... BONDing forces.
     Yeah, you perturb those and you've got ONE shaky little
nucleus!  It falls apart...  POOF!  POP!... goes the weasel!
     What do you mean 'How does it wor... work'?  I just TOLD
you...
     OHHHhhh!...  How... do YOU work... it...  Well... you...
sho... shou... Should... ask your... quest... questions...
more... precisely.
     You see... you see... You... Can't... work it...
     It...  It...  It's...  Tel...  Tel...  Tele...  Tell me
you're coming... back to me!  You gotta... tell me...
     Oh...
     you...
     don't...
     like...
     my...
     singing...?
     - VII -
     Who's arguing?  Shhh!  Arguing...  I'm dead you shouldn't
argue in front of dead people...  Now, you listen to what she
says... She's right, I'm tooooOOO tired...
     And my head hurts...  I wanna aspirin...  So this is what
it's like being dead...  Who'd have thought it would be so dry...
I wanna drink...
     I don't like this being dead...  I've had much more pleasant
petite mortes than this one I can tell you that...
     - VIII -
     Hmmm?  Oh, artifacts... yeah, there were artifacts there...
At Enoc there was this greaat bIg crystal...  You didn't get it?
No...  No...  No... You see Drert took it...  Who's Drert?
Gunner, he manned the turret on my ship...  Where IS my ship?
Don't YOU know?  They're pretty cool folks, I wonder where they
went?...
     Oh well, the crystal did some WeirD things let-me-tell-you.
It GLOWED.  It zapped Drert but GOOD!  He got some amazing psi
power from it...  Oh, he teleported and stuff and he healed
Niedrsha...  Him?  Oh, the pilot...  It did something to his mind
though...  Drert's mind that is...
     You know it made Jietlshaiepr a telepath too...
     - IX -
     Truth drugs...  Memory drugs...  Hallucinogens...
Probing...  Psi-Dampers...  Sensory deprivation...  Truth
drugs...  Memory drugs...  Hallucinogens...  Psi-Dampers...
Probing...  Sensory deprivation...  Truth drugs...  Memory
drugs...  Probing...  Psi-Dampers...  Sensory deprivation...
Hallucinogens...
     - X -
     The Interrogator sat perfectly still, "The subject is
recovering rapidly from the interrogation.  He came very close to
not reviving, though he has a remarkable capacity to regenerate
himself."
     "How long before we can continue?"
     She considered it, "Uncertain, at minimum:  five hours."
     "That quickly?"
     "The subject has proved exceedingly strong.  If
interrogation begins before five hours he will die before giving
any information.  After five hours wait, he would merely be
irrevocably damaged."
     - XI -
Bend me,
shape me,
any way you want me.
You got the power
To turn on the light.
               -"Bend Me, Shape Me" - The American Breed

     ...The blackness of the bog was tinged with pale violet
iridescence as Mako felt his way along through the darkness.
Branches reached out overhead as the trees raked the sky with
their leafless bony limbs.  A moon peered down:  a red eye with a
black pupil studying the silent wilderness.
     Fog rolled about like a hungry creature draining the warmth
of it's victims.
     Mako froze as a lone howl sounded far off behind him.  He
glanced around him seeing only a few meters in any direction as
the fog rolled seeking warmth.  A second howl sounded from the
opposite direction.
     Malenkoviepr ran perpendicular to the line described by the
two howling things.  A few steps and his left foot sunk into the
mire, calf deep.  He stumbled, but rolled out onto the surface
grasping the gnarled roots of a nearby tree.
     Carefully, he pulled himself up to stand on the roots when
they resolved into bony fingers clawing into the bog.  The bark
of the tree seemed to have faces inside it.  Tortured faces with
mouths agape in silent screams.
     Mako began to slog through the bog when a third howl
sounded:  still far off, but closing.
     He sank lower, the bog up to his knees now, but still
manageable as the murk flowed around him.
     A ghostly white shape hung from the ghastly trees.  It swung
silently he watched it.
     Slowly, the fog separated, revealing the shape had wings.
     Hloch hung curled in a ball, wrapped in a spider's web.  He
was cocooned by something.  It was difficult to make out the Ael
Yael's silhouette, the left wing's humerus and wrist were bent at
ugly angles, while the right appeared dislocated.
     With fear rising in his throat, Mako stared at the thing
before him swinging slowly in the bone chilling air of the bog.
     Slowly, it moved and looked at him.  "...Help me..."
     Mako jumped into action pulling the cocoon out of the giant
web with enormous strength.  Quickly, he began ripping apart the
venomous gossamer coffin.
     "...Thought you were dead..." managed the wounded scientist.
"That thing that swatted me..."
     "Viepchaklva, if I understand it, but this is a dream."
answered Malenkoviepr as he cleaned away the entangling web from
the creature's arms and legs.
     "...A dream...  a Nightmare...  Some one's been questioning
me...  Then the nightmares come..."
     "You've been questioned?  What about?"
     "...Imperial defenses...  research...  the ancients...  I
couldn't help but tell them...  Truth drugs...  sensory
deprivation..."
     "Who interrogated you?"
     "Don't know... never saw them..."
     "Somebody is very curious about you and me..."
     "Did they interrogate you too?"
     "Yes."
     "What about?"
     "The ancients mostly.  A lot of questions."  Slowly, the bog
faded around them, and they were alone in blackness.
     The Ael looked at him, "What do they want to know?  Maybe we
can figure out what they're up to."
     "Identification of certain artifacts, information about the
theories behind them."
     "What kind of artifacts?" asked Hloch in a strange voice.
     "Ancient... ...Well, I'm not really sure..."
     Hloch's voice grew strange:  less shrill and more husky,
"You saw them, didn't you?"
     A Siren went off in Malenkoviepr's head, "Well, yes..."
     "Then, what were they?"
     "Hloch, are you all right?  You sound very strange..."
     "What do you mean strange...?" he asked defensively, his
voice different now... almost human.
     "Who ARE you?!" growled Malenkoviepr.
     The creature was taken aback, "I am Dr. Hloch of the planet
Ael Yael."
     "Oh, indeed?  I thought your planet was Jaeyelya."
     The creature stared at him blankly.
     "Tell me," continued Malenkoviepr, "you're a physicist, what
is the equation of mass-energy equivalence?"
     The creature hesitated, "...E equals MC squared."
     "What do the terms mean?"
     The creature stared, desperately groping for an answer.
"What are you driving at?"
     "What is the definition of kinetic energy?  That's an easier
question."
     "Now see here, you've got to help me..." cried the creature.
     "I didn't think you could answer it.  You are not who you
pretend to be." Malenkoviepr and he turned to walk away.
     "Come back!  Come back!  I can explain everything!"  The
thing hung suspended by threads as a grotesque marionette jerking
mechanically to the commands of someone unseen, while screaming
in a human voice.
     - XII -
What's all these crazy questions you asking me?
This is the craziest party that could ever be,
Don't turn on the light's cause I don't wanna see.
Mamma told me not to come.
Mamma told me not to come.
That aien't the way to have fun!
No!  Uh-uh!
     -"Mamma Told Me (not to come)" -Three Dog Night

     Mako stood in the center of a raucous party holding a glass
of champagne.  Sophonts of all kinds laughed hysterically and did
very bizarre things while loud, insane music rippled forth.
     Three Vargr females in tie-dyed purple paisley mini-skirts
were Zero-G-Go-Go dancing in large cages.  Their eyes threw out a
bizarre kaleidoscope of colors.
     Seven humans were running in random directions carrying fire
extinguishers and blasting each other with them amid peals of
laughter.
     A large male Vargr was pulling oranges one by one, from thin
air, out of his left ear juggling them and tossing them to a
group of Droyne who were passing them from one to another and
building a towering pyramid with them.
     A pretty, young Aslan female in a feathered mask walked
through the room carrying a small wheel and kissing everyone.
     A huge obese woman was standing on a table, balancing on one
leg and crying rhinestones, while a man in an indescribable hat
asked her riddles.
     Hloch was standing on Kittan's shoulders.  Kittan was going
through a book, tearing out pages and handing them up to Hloch.
Hloch in turn handed folded them into small paper airplanes and
threw them to a young but very large male Aslan wearing a Darrian
Naval uniform.  The young Aslan ensign wore the circled eye
insignia of the Darrian Naval Intelligence corps.
     "Ah, Hloch, through hanging by someone's thread?" asked
Malenkoviepr.
     "Humans make lousy puppeteers!" laughed Kittan delightedly.
     "Yes, I haven't been myself lately but I'm alright now!"
leered Hloch as he swayed precariously on Kittan's shoulders.  "I
can only reach for who I have been, since not me."
     A squadron of colorful crystalline insects flew overhead in
diamond formation.  They executed a tight roll and changed into a
deck of cards.
     "This party is pretty mindblowing!  Eh, Mako?" chirped
Hloch.  "Out of sight!"
     "Out of mind!" cried Malenkoviepr.  "This is a dreamy
party!"
     "Who ever's in charge of reality seems to have the day
off..." called the Aslan officer, refilling Mako's glass with
champagne.
     "Yes," agreed Mako, "I'm in charge at the moment."
     The pretty Aslan female in the mask attached herself to the
ensign's arm, and turned to Mako, "Excuse me, have you seen a man
named Duran Durant?" she asked softly.
     "Achrrr!" cried Kittan in surprise. "Dr. Malenkoviepr, I
should introduce you."  She gestured the Aslan officer, "This is
Ensign Zdeldi of the Darrian Confederation, and his companion:
Surrealni."
     "Enchanted!" grinned Surrealni, then she slowly began do
disappear, from the tip of her tail up to her face, until only
her grin was left behind.
     "Pleased to meet you." smiled Zdeldi extending his hand
above his head in a very non Aslan way.  "And, what do you do?"
     Malenkoviepr gave him a high five, "Nearly the same as you
do, but I've resigned."
     "Oh really?  Why?"
     Mako smiled, and drew forth an holocrystal from his breast
pocket and put it back.  "I had my reasons...  some plans..."
     Zdeldi drew him aside, "Like to share your reasons?"
     "Share?" he asked incredulously.
     "In a manner of speaking.  There are other things to be
shared in such arrangements."
     "I am intrigued.  Shall we go?"
     - XIII -
     The Interrogator looked up, "I thought you wanted to
question him about the ancient artifacts we possess."
     "I do.  But if we let this proceed, we can find out how
corruptible he is...  THAT we can use..."
     - XIV -
If you think that
I don't know about the little tricks you've played,
And never see you when
you deliberately put things in my way.
Here's a poke at you.
You're gonna choke on it too.
You're gonna loose that smile.
Because all the while,
I can see for miles
and miles
and miles
and miles
and miles...
     "I Can See For Miles" -The Who

     The gambling table was clear as Malenkoviepr and Zdeldi
faced each other.  Mako dealt five cards each.  Zdeldi considered
them carefully and handed back two.  Zdeldi spoke in a strange
voice, "Dr. Malenkoviepr, just what sort of deal were you
planning on?"
     Mako shuffled and handed him back his cards.  "No set plan
just yet.  I am merely interested in finding out what You have to
offer."
     The Aslan regarded his cards, "Selling to the highest
bidder?"
     Mako picked up his cards and studied them a moment and
exchanged one from the deck, "Now, now, you are putting words in
my mouth..."
     "Or thoughts in your head..." smiled Zdeldi, "Go fish."
     Mako eyed his cards and pulled three from the deck, "Yes,
just possibly, but then again, it might be the other way around."
He placed a card face down on the table announcing, "King's X."
     Zdeldi's eyebrows went up in a most human surprise, he
examined his cards and drew one from the deck.  "Well, what about
putting credit in your pocket...  Hit me."
     Mako took a card from the deck without looking, "Would you
mind being more specific?"
     Zdeldi's voice was quite human, "I want that crystal.  I'll
pay for it...  I'll stay."
     Mako dropped a card on the table, "What's so valuable about
this holocrystal?"
     Zdeldi took the bait, "I want anything you have to sell.
Therefore, I want that crystal."
     Mako put all his cards down except for one.  "Uno."
     Zdeldi rearranged his cards quickly and discarded three,
"The Consulate can't offer you what we can...  Box cars"
     "You want me to sell out the Consulate."
     "Has the Consulate treated you so well?" asked Zdeldi, "Not
from the looks of things."
     "Perhaps, but they are my people."  Mako looked up at the
ceiling and threw his legs up on the table.  "So, when did YOU
sell out the Consulate?"
     Zdeldi froze.
     The entire dream world stopped mid sentence.
     Silence.
     Malenkoviepr glared through the ceiling to the outside
universe.  He addressed the crazy world and its makers.  "You
sold out the Consulate, didn't you?  What did they offer you?
What do you expect?  Did you get it?"
     "Or is someone holding your leash as we speak?"  He glared
at the prop of a world around him, and slammed his last card, the
twenty one of clubs down on the table.
     "This round," he announced, "I win."
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
     DOWN THE WELLES
          or
     Deep in a hole

     Scott Kellogg
          - I -
          Welles E655632-3
     Twelve System Defence Boats and an unidentified forty
thousand ton ship of the line bore in on the tiny gathering of
starships.
     The Flamboyant's radio crackled:  a woman's voice, "This is
Lt. Dragoon of the League of Suns Navy aboard the scout ship
Spindleman.  For the duration of this emergency I am proclaiming
martial law and assuming command of all vessels by the authority
of the League of Suns.  All vessels will report their status or
be judged hostile."
     Jietlshaiepr almost choked, "This is Lieutenant Jietlshaiepr
aboard the Gunned Escort Flamboyant out of the Zhodani Consulate.
Lieutenant, you're out of your sphere of influence.  This is a
free and independent system."
     Lt. Dragoon snarled, "Welles has requested the League's
protection, and THAT makes it our sphere, Zho."
     A Droyne chirped in, "This the trader Shoolist is,
maneuverable, jump fuel have lost.  Re-enter atmosphere
impossible streamlining destroyed."
     "This trader Kivas, power plant damaged.  Computer
destroyed.  Wounded aboard.  Drone dead.  Rendezvous Flamboyant
with waiting."
     "Cruiser Chekbas here, hull by nuclear blast irradiated,
maneuver drives damaged, down to two point one G, two laser
batteries out of action, loss of some jump fuel.  Cutter
undamaged and deployed."
     Jietlshaiepr sighed in disgust as the Droyne surrendered the
authority of their vessels.  "This is the gunned escort
Flamboyant.  We are undamaged and are proceeding to rendezvous
with the Kivas.  Under our control is a VIXEN class missile
platform.  We have three light fighters deployed."
     The radio gave mute testimony to the fact that no other
would answer the call to friendly shipping.
     A note of hesitancy came into Lt. Dragoon's voice, "Droyne
Cruiser Cheekbass... you will rendezvous with the trader Shoe
list and remove all crew then make for jump point...  You should
just be able to make it.  On second thought, head for jump point
now.  Have your cutter take the crew off and rendezvous at jump
point you will jump for the Price system and contact the League
there.  Inform them to send reinforcements.
     "Droyne trader Shoe List, you will prepare to scuttle your
ship.  Head for jump point to shorten transfer time.
     "Droyne Trader Key Vast, prepare to scuttle.
     "Zho Escort Flamboyant, take off the crew of the Key Vast.
Direct your missile platform and fighters to engage the enemy."
     The radio burst with tiny objecting voices as two Droyne
merchant captains heard the orders to scuttle.
     Kfoks audibly restrained himself over the radio, "Dragoon,
No disrespect intended... are you out of your Mind?  Do you Really
think *Three* *LIGHT* Fighters can take on *TWELVE* Vrrsheerrrsh
*SDBS*, and *DO* Something!?  *Other* than be Wiped out?"
     "Flamboyant squadron," answered Dragoon nastily, "Why don't
you pull some sneaking, underhanded Zho trick on them?"
     "My compliments on your bigotry, asshole, but I'm Vargr."
snapped Kfoks.  "Flamboyant, On mark, I'm switching frequencies
to preset B.  Mark!  Let's get the hell out of here.  We'll
rendezvous with you at the Kivas.  We'll pick up survivors and
jump the hell out of here."
     Niedrsha looked over the course projections.  "Forget
jumping, we'll never have time to pick 'em up and make jump
point.  They are coming in from outside the gravity well.  We'd
have to run right through them to get to jump distances.  We could
hide on the surface.  We'd loose the VIXEN if we did jump:  it's
out of fuel."
     "She could make an in system jump." chimed Miakr.
     "To where?" asked Niedrsha.
     "The system gas giant."
     "Program it in, but don't execute it." ordered Jietlshaiepr,
"We may need it's cover."
     "Coming up on the Kivas!" shouted Niedrsha.  The once sleek
needle like trader hove into visual range.  The hull was opened
up like a can just aft of the bridge.  The engine room was
visible through a rent in her stern just forward of the control
surfaces.
     Jietlshaiepr grabbed her surgeon's kit.  "I'm going to
teleport aboard.  Dock with the ship and be ready to receive
casualties..."
     Suddenly, Shtam came onto the bridge lugging a tool kit, "I
have a plan:  no time to explain.  Jietlshaiepr, take me across
with you."
     Jietlshaiepr looked startled for a moment.  "All right, it
had better be good.  Button up your battle dress.  I'm going to
take us outside the rent in the bridge, and then inside."
     "I am going to the engine room.  Leave me outside."
          - II -
     The bridge disappeared as the two winked over to the
stricken trader.  The Kivas leaped towards them as they matched
vectors with their grav belts.
     "What on Zhdant are you up to?" wondered Jietlshaiepr.
     Shtam smiled, "Just a sneaking, underhanded Zho trick I
heard of once:  preparing the power plant to overload.  The
pirates will take this ship aboard.  If I am quick, I can give
them a fusion bomb in the bargain."  He jetted around to the
engine room.
     Jietlshaiepr crawled in through the hole in the ships
plating.  Twisted wreckage showed a nearly vaporized computer
room.
     Shtam's disembodied voice came to her in the darkness, "You
will have to set up some explosives.  Perhaps Gresha if you can
not.  We have to make it appear as though we tried to scuttle the
ship but the attempt failed in the rush:  wire up some of the
ship's missiles with a bad detonator.  Once they've found one
surprise and defused it, it should satisfy them enough to take
this ship on the capital ship."
     The computer was half molten.  A small Droyne shadow lay
across the panels where it hadn't become glowing slag.  The
operator's body had shielded the computer for a tiny instant.  An
intact iris valve stood nearby going forward.
     "I found an injured one back here." called Shtam.  "Their
engineer I assume, unconscious.  It's in pressurized combat
armor."
     Jietlshaiepr called back, " We don't have time for full
treatment now.  Make sure it's not going to get banged around and
have Vole take him back to the Flamboyant when we're docked.
We'll have to treat them there."
     Jietlshaiepr teleported through the iris valve, and onto the
bridge.  Suddenly, there was a huge metal beam at eye level,
millimeters away from her helmet.  "One more teleport like that
and I'm history."
     The bridge was a burning shamble.  The beam had fallen from
the ceiling along with other structural pieces causing the air to
hiss slowly into the vacuum.  The panels were ablaze filling the
room with black smoke.  Blue alien emergency lights lit the
bridge dimly through the smoke, but the sensors of the battle
dress saw clearly.  Two Droyne in combat armor were fighting the
blaze at the other end of the beam where it had pinned a third to
its acceleration couch.  The draft from the air leak was drawing
the smoke away from the fire keeping it alight.  It wouldn't be
long till the air was too thin to burn.  Why not dump the
atmosphere to put it out?
     The two barely noticed as she floated forward.  The pinned
Droyne's armor was cracked.  She tried the strength enhancement
of her battle dress to move the beam.
     It was set tight.
     "Flamboyant," radioed Jietlshaiepr, "We're going to need one
of the tillys on the bridge:  I need a heavy lifting crane.  Get
Rackan into the suit and get him over here."
     One Droyne managed in slurred Zhodani, "You sick make well?"
     "Yes, I am a surgeon." she replied quickly, "I have a team
coming with heavy equipment.  But we have to get it in here from
outside, we'll have to seal his suit."
     The two Droyne glanced back with indeciperably alien
expressions nearly completely hidden by armor.  "Chrr, what say
you?"
     In answer Jietlshaiepr bent to make a closer examination of
the trapped Droyne.  The beam rested across the chest and right
shoulder of the creature.  The shoulder was dented and cracked
but the chest armor hand held up under the impact and had kept
the mass from crushing the chest.  The armored wing casing was
bent at an odd angle.  A quick glance at the two uninjured Droyne's
wings showed the wing must be broken inside the casing, but the
armor appeared to be sealed.  For now it would serve as a temporary
cast but it would be crazy when it came time to take it off.
     Jietlshaiepr quickly began sealing the cracked plates of the
creature's armored suit.  The fire was fading: the air was
getting dangerously thin and poisonous.
     A minute later Jietlshaiepr was half finished with the
sealant when Niedrsha sounded on the radio, "Kivas, this is
Flamboyant, we are now positioned next to your air lock.  Lock to
lock docking appears impossible, your linkup system appears to be
shot away.  We are now ready for evacuation of casualties.
Rackan estimates he will be with you in ten minutes."
     Jietlshaiepr transmitted, "Flamboyant, I want Gresha outside
with a fusion gun, some explosives and detonators.  First burn a
hole into the bridge big enough for the tilly.  Next take the
detonators and wire up the Kivas's missile magazines.  Vole, you
bring across casualties.  There is one unconscious in the engine
room.  Kaezorr, you know about micro-gravity, you go with Vole.
Let's move, people!"
     Moments later she finished sealing the little Droyne's armor
and stood up.  The fire was out:  nothing left to burn.  Could
the trapped creature still breathe?  No way to tell if it was
even alive inside the dead combat armor.
     Turning to the other Droyne, she spoke in Zhodani, "Get to
the Flamboyant, the equipment..."
     "Galanglic speak please." interrupted the Droyne.
     She translated, "Get to the Flamboyant, the equipment will
be here in a few minutes.  I can't do any thing more until we get
you crew aboard the Flamboyant."
     "Leave my Kivas." said the captain quietly.
     A chirping sounded on her radio.  The Zhodani speaking
Droyne stood up.  "Teleport others to aid must I."  The creature
vanished immediately.
     The captain floated to the communicator on a side panel and
chirped into it.  Two colored hexagonal pie charts lit up:  three
slices of the first were out and two of the second.  In a moment
the lit slices became the video projections from the helmets of
the surviving Droyne crew.
     The captain chirped sadly into it's comm set.  The others
answered slowly.
     Two of the cameras flashed brilliantly as someone began
blasting away wreckage with a plasma gun.
     "Viepchakl," thought Jietlshaiepr, "they're well armed for a
merchant crew.
     She moved aft to the iris valve.  With the bridge in vacuum
there's no need to keep it closed.
     As it opened she saw Gresha with a fusion gun.
     "We need a pretty big hole to get the tilly in here.  Start
blasting around the iris valve.  Give me the detonators, I'll set
the magazine."
     "Right, Jiet.  You'd better get on the radio, Dragoon's
breathing plasma since the fighters started back."
     "Blast!  I haven't time to deal with that idiot!  Niedrsha,
do you read me?  Patch me into the ship's radio."  She moved aft
around the ship's hull as Gresha started blasting a hole in the
bulkhead.
     Lt. Dragoon's voice seemed hoarse as it came over the
circuit, "...boyant come in.  Damn you bastards!"
     "Spindleman, this is Jietlshaiepr of the Flamboyant we are
conducting vital rescue operations.  Do not jam this channel."
     "Flamboyant, you will redirect your fighters to engage the
enemy."
     "*Request* denied."
     "Flamboyant, do you know what ship that is?!  It's the
raider Star Rider.  If it gets away it'll kill hundreds!  Maybe
thousands!"
     "Dragoon, that ship is a ship of the line, it has a screen
of twelve ships that are individually more than a match for my
ship.  The combined firepower of all our ships couldn't even
scratch their defenses."
     "God damn it, Flamboyant!  If that ship gets loose there'll
be more victims than ALL our ships.  It must be stopped!"
     "Viepchakl!  You fool!  Don't you see WE CAN'T STOP IT!"
     "Ok, coward Zho punks!  We'll stop it ourselves!  Spindleman
out!"
     Miakr interrupted, "Jiet, they're on an intercept course."
     Jietlshaiepr shook her head, "Not for long, they're dead."
     In the engine room, she found Shtam working feverishly on
the drives.
     "How's it going?"
     Shtam didn't look up.  "I have the power plant operational,
I do not dare turn it on:  they would pick up the power and might
suspect the trick.  It will take a few more minutes to rig the
containment vessel for overload.  Then we can super-compress the
plasma and bang!"
     "We have twelve minutes before we have to leave.  Can you be
ready?"
     "I will be ready.  Is the magazine set?"
     "I'm on my way."  She opened the hatch that lead forward to
the turrets.  A tube lead up toward the turrets.
     Kaezorr was floating down leading Drert and two Droyne who
pulled a large Droyne figure in armor.  One of the Droyne was
carrying a PGDP-12.  "We had to dig something out of the
wreckage.  They said it's alive." she explained.
     Jietlshaiepr lowered her shield and probed the recumbent
creature:  no life.  In fact, there was nothing there.
     Confused, she put her psionic shield back up.  The Droyne
reappeared.  Psi invisibility?
     "Take them back to the ship.  I'll examine it there."
     She went up the tube to the turrets.  They weren't far
forward.  Quickly, she rigged the missile igniters together and
wired up the detonators.  Just fire up one missile and the whole
magazine would go.
     "...Nine, Eleven, Twelve missiles going up simultaneously...
that ought to look like a pretty good self destruct..."
     She set the detonator timer to zero and put the battery in
backwards.  An obvious mistake, it'll look like the timer went
down and didn't fire the missiles.
     "I only hope they buy it."
          - III -
     It took all of Jietlshaiepr, Gresha, Shtam, Kaezorr and Vole
to maneuver Rackan in the tilly to the bridge of the Kivas.  The
metal tyrannosaur tore the bars away like paper as it entered the
wrecked bridge.
     "All right, Rackan," cautioned Vole, "The armor may bend
back when we remove the beam so do it slowly.  It'll mess up the
sealant."
     Rackan growled, "I don't take order's from robots..."
     Jietlshaiepr cut him off.  "No, but you'll take them from
*me*.  Lift slow and easy like you're handling eggs.  I have to
reseal any leaks that open in the armor."
     Rackan locked the huge arms of the tilly onto the beam.
"Ready."
     "One millimeter at a time." She cautioned, "Go."
     The arms began to strain at the beam not moving it.
     "Vole, help him."
     Vole moved in and locked his own robotic arms on the beam.
"I'm going to use my laser welder," he warned.  "It should help
bend the beam which is what we're going to have to do."
     The laser lanced out and began heating the beam.  A moment
later, Rackan focused the tilly's laser welder on the beam.
     Slowly, slowly, slowly the beam began to bend.
     A foggy mist began spraying from the Droyne's shoulder.
Jietlshaiepr put a patch on the leak, but another came open worse
than the first.
     A second patch went on and the spray stopped.  "Ok,
carefully now..." she cautioned.
     Again they lifted.  The beam had moved about a centimeter
more when a trickle started from the Droyne's back.
     "Blast!  I can't reach it!  He's on top of it!  Keep going!"
     The leak changed from a trickle to a jet, still she could
not reach it.
     "All right!  Lift!  For all you're worth!"
     The beam came up faster, but still slowly.  Jietlshaiepr
threw her mind into her arms and lifted.  The strength enhancers
complained along with Vole's and the tilly's arms.
     Sweat dripped off her face as she watched the torrential
leak helplessly.  Other leaks began seeping from the shoulder.
     Suddenly, under the heat and strain, the superdense structural
beam buckled.
     Jietlshaiepr grabbed the suit patches.  One slammed over the
hole in the back plate slowed it.  A second closed it over.
     The leaks on the shoulder took three more patches.
     "Ok, get him back to the Flamboyant so we can get the fuck
out of here!" sighed Jietlshaiepr with relief.
          - IV -
     They jetted back slowly to the Flamboyant pushing Rackan in
the tilly.  The cargo lock beckoned invitingly.
     "Get moving team," warned Niedrsha from the bridge, "The
SDBs are closing.  Range: one point five million kilometers.  Our
escape margin's gone.  If we start running now they'll still get
us in range before we make the surface."
     They floated slowly toward the open hatch.  The massive bulk
of the modified cargo carrier-battle suit was hugely difficult to
maneuver.  It floated through the airlock and bashed silently
into the wall of the hold.
     Shtam punched the door control.  The lock door slid quickly
in place.  Gravity came up slowly but too quickly for Rackan in
the clumsy suit.  He collapsed onto the floor.
     Jietlshaiepr hit the pressure controls, "Full throttle,
Niedrsha, get us the fuck out of here!"
          - V -
     Jietlshaiepr counted heads.  Out of twelve passengers and
crew, two dead, four wounded, three of them badly.  She stripped
their armor off as she listened to Niedrsha's tactical report over
the intercom.
     "Four SDBs have peeled off after the Chekbas and Shoolist.
They'll both reach jump point before they can intercept.  Chekbas
will reach jump point in seventeen minutes, the Shoolist in
thirty two.
     "The Shoolist's captain is out of his head!  They're gonna
try and jump outsystem with no fuel!  They're gonna misjump
deliberately!
     "One of the SDBs is closing on the Kivas.  Two more are
after the Spindleman.  The Star Rider is slower than the SDBs, it
also is closing on the Kivas.  It will intercept the Kivas in
about five hours.  Niedrsha cleared his throat, "That leaves five
SDBs after us and the VIXEN.  They will be in firing range in one
hour, fifty three minutes, thirty two minutes before we reach the
surface.
     "Spindleman will be in their range in forty five minutes."
     Miakr came over the intercom, "Jietlshaiepr, what should I
do with the VIXEN?  It can't follow us into the atmosphere..."
     "Send it after our tail.  It just might buy us some time.
And it just might live if it makes one pass and keeps going."
     "Right Jiet...  It's on it's way.  Interception... thirty
six minutes... twenty seconds."
     The pilot Droyne was small.  Maybe a few centimeters shorter
than Dr. Malenkoviepr.  No wonder Mako had a rapport with such
tiny creatures.  Two of the four ribs were broken on the right
side along with what passed for the collar bone.  The right wing
was a ragged mess where hollow bone had made a compound fracture.
     Vole and Tuerz worked on a large patient with a broken leg.
Suddenly, Drert leaned over the pilot.  He held the same blue
crystal from the Ancient site.  The point of the crystal flared
up like a star.
     Jietlshaiepr turned her head from the bright flare.  Her
hands trembled as she held the wing of the tiny creature.
Freezing heat flowed into her fingertips.  She tried to let go
but her muscles were locked tight.
     Every hair on her hands began to stand on end.  The
sensation swept up her arm.  The hair of her head prickled as
though it had become thorns.
     Suddenly, everything changed.  The sensation swamped her
body like a wave of honey.  A low moan passed her lips as her
every nerve was kissed, stroked, fondled, wrapped in a fur
blanket and put by a warm fire.
          - VI -
     A minute later she found herself barely standing with Vole
peering into her face.
     "What happened?" she sang dreamily.
     "I don't know." the robot said confusedly. "I was preparing
to set the Droyne's leg when my limbs jammed:  my neural activity
sensor went off the scale.  Then you started moaning and Tuerz
howled.  He collapsed but you were still standing."
     "Too much for him I guess... Where's Drert?"
     The gunner was over in the corner surrounded by the Droyne
who were not stirring.  The examining tables were empty, instead
the tiny creatures were clinging to Drert like young opossums to
their mother.
     Jietlshaiepr picked out the one who had been half crushed.
No sign of any injury, or that any had taken place.  It seemed
to be sleeping quite contentedly.
     "Tuerz!" Kfoks burst into sick bay.  "Are you all right?
What happened?"
     The slender Vargr looked up dreamily.  "Vargr!  Taek, you
should have been here.  I haven't felt that good in..."
     "What happened?" Kfoks demanded.
     "I don't know cub, but I think I ruined my outfit..."
          - VII -
     Jietlshaiepr strolled onto the bridge and gazed longingly at
Niedrsha.  "So, how are we doing?" she whispered softly.
     Miakr stared into the sensors.  "Three of the SDBs have
altered course to attack the VIXEN, leaving two still after us...
The VIXEN is coming into range... in two minutes."
     Miakr raised his eyes from the sensors for a moment and
stretched his neck, "I directed her to make one pass to draw them
off and then continue on an intercept course to the Spindleman.
They're jerks, but they are fighting the right people."
     Jietlshaiepr sighed and became businesslike with a tinge of
regret.  "Time to get in range of the Spindleman?"
     "Ten minutes... just after the SDBs get there."
     Niedrsha shook his head.  "The Chekbas has jumped out.  The
Shoolist is just about to try.  Fuck, they're nuts!"
     The Shoolist was just a speck on the scopes.  The chronometer
ticked off the seconds till they gambled their lives.  Even if they
came out in an star system, they had no way to refuel.  They had a
one way ticket on a mystery tour to nowhere.
     Niedrsha found himself counting quietly to himself, "Four...
Three...  Two...  One...  Ze...", he was cut off as the dot
suddenly flared brilliantly and vanished.
     He checked the instruments, "She's vaporized..."
     Jietlshaiepr took a deep breath.  She leaned over Miakr to
look into the readouts, "Ok, let's see how our little VIXEN makes
out."
          - VIII -
     The VIXEN charged into missile range and released her deadly
cargo.  Four flights of missiles fanned out like streamers
towards their targets.
     Another blossom of missiles surged into the vacuum as the
space around the VIXEN surged with laser light from the SDBs.
A flash, a surge, lanthanum boiled into space as the VIXEN was
illuminated momentarily by a 750 megawatt laser battery.
          - IX -
     "She's hit!" Miakr half shouted.  "It's all confused... All
right, the jump drives been hit, probably totaled.  It was in
pretty bad shape anyway...  Maneuver drive's damaged, down to
five point three G's acceleration...  Number two turret seems to
be slow...  but it's still in action!"
     Jietlshaiepr breathed, "Right, Miakr, get the robots to work
on the..."
     "Already done.", he shot.  "I've had them programmed for
damage control since we entered combat."
     "Good boy."
     Niedrsha grinned, "Here comes missile intercept..."
     The screen flashed briefly with fission fire.  Smaller
flares went up as high explosive crashed into the SDBs.
     Miakr read off the sensors.  "One SDB took a nuke... she's
sluggish... hit in the maneuver drives...  The other two are
hit...  Can't get a good reading at this range, but they took
some damage."
     "Hold on to your hats, there goes the second flight of
missiles." smiled Niedrsha.
     More flashes, barely visible at five million kilometers
range lit the screen.
     "Another nuclear strike hit..." grinned Miakr, "Can't get a
reading this time...  No engine damage, that's for sure.  They're
still pursuing at the same speed.  No change in power generated.
Probable weapon damage."
     Jietlshaiepr drew a deep breath, "Maintain firing."
     The VIXEN continued to spiral missiles towards her
opponents.  A brief flare showed her silhouette against the stars
as she twisted to escape.
     Miakr stiffened, "Number three turret damaged... Still in
action.
     "Another strike got through.  One SDB losing fuel...  Blast
these sensors, I can't tell if we're doing anything or not!"
     "Check out the Spindleman," cautioned Niedrsha.  "She's
about in range of the other two ships."
     "Viepchakl!" Miakr's eye's grew wide.  "They're plastering
the Spindleman...  Multiple damage...  Fuel leak...  I read
vaporized lanthanum:  their jump drive's out...  Maneuver drive's
out...  I wonder if there's any one left alive..."
     The SDBs turned their attention to the onrushing VIXEN just
as she laid her nuclear eggs.  A geyser of fuel fogged the vacuum
momentarily obscuring her outline but she flew on with her wings
paralyzed.
     "Shit!" screamed Miakr. "The VIXEN's maneuver drives are
dead...  Can't get anything from the engine room!  She's out of
control!"
     The VIXEN's missiles continued to fly.  Slugging all her
remaining strength into her weapons, she swung at her enemies.
     "She's still hitting them."  read Miakr, I can't really see
what she's doing to them but she's still firing."
     The SDBs couldn't miss a drifting target.  The VIXEN
continued to pour missiles out of her turrets and bay as they
pounded her.  The missile bay with it's nuclear missiles was
their first target.  It was quickly reduced to glowing metal.
The final end came when her last fuel tank ruptured under the
punishment of the mass attack of the five SDBs.  Low on fuel
after the jump, her power plant strangled as it's blood ran into
the vacuum.
     Jietlshaiepr looked up from the display.  "We're on our own
now."
          - X -
     "Missiles away!" Gresha barked as six nuclear tipped
missiles flared from the Flamboyant's racks.
     "Impact at this range:  thirty one minutes." calculated
Niedrsha, "We'll be down in thirty two.  I'm headin' for the
ocean:  it's on the night side.  We'll put down and submerge.
That ought'a give their gunners a few headaches."
     "How long till they touch down?"
     Niedrsha's holographic head's up display flashed.  "One hour,
forty minutes, eighteen seconds.  We've got ten minutes before they
reach missile range...  laser range in ten seconds.  Laser
batteries stand by."
     "Laser one ready." called Kaezorr.
     "Laser two ready." grumbled Rackan.
     Jietlshaiepr studied the range, "Niedrsha, evasive action.
Lasers commence firing!"
     The Flamboyant wound itself into a knot as Niedrsha jerked
the controls into a tight roll.
     X-ray lasers began blasting into the night seeking targets,
but the SDBs flew on untouched by the onslaught of power.
     Moment's later the SDBs own lasers flicked on seeking the
fleeing Escort.  The visible spectrum lasers flashed on into the
clouds of Welles below them.
     "Brrrraaacht... A laser strike at this range'll only be by a
stroke of luck." growled Kaezorr.
      "Keep at it," Jietlshaiepr breathed, "and hope they're not
any luckier..."
     Laser light blared back and forth as the gunners played a
vicious game with seven hundred fifty megawatts of power.  "I
can't tell if I'm hittin' 'em or not!" barked Rackan.
     More missiles dropped from the Flamboyant's tubes and burned
their way to the enemy.
     "I hit one!" called Kaezorr.
     Miakr read off the sensors.  X-ray radiation emanated from
the first SDB.  "The leading SDB was hit.  Can't verify any
damage, but it hit."
     Jietlshaiepr bit her lip, "Good job, maintain fire."
     Time after time the lasers streaked out into space.  "We
can't hit 'em." barked Rackan.
     "They can't hit us either." called Miakr.  "Concentrate fire
on the wing SDB:  the leader has ceased fire.  That hit must have
damaged their lasers."
     "Roger."
     Minutes dragged as the SDBs closed.  Wildly slashing beams of
photons flared; the superior targeting of the Flamboyant balanced
by the superior agility of the SDBs.  At a range of five hundred
thousand kilometers where light takes three and a third seconds to
go and return, only luck could result in a solid hit.
     Rackan began cursing the lasers in unintelligible Gevueg
quietly but soon it got loud quickly.  "Grraph ersharrrfphessh
shreeelipf GARRCHT!  Verrsh!  I hit the veersheg!"
     "Hit to their laser batteries." called Miakr.  "They've
ceased laser fire.  Their missiles are still after us though."
     "That's stupid." laughed Niedrsha, "We'll be underwater
before they can possibly get anywhere near us."
     "They're still closing."
     "Maintain fire." ordered Jietlshaiepr.
     The lasers kept firing as the silent SDBs pursued but not a
single more hit was made.
          - XI -
     "Cease fire, we're heading into the atmosphere." called
Niedrsha, "We're gonna be a fireball in a few seconds.  We'll
show up on their infrared sensors like an imposter at an
invisible man convention.
     "Engine room, divert power to overdrive engines.  We need
emergency agility."
     "You got it Niedrsha." announced Shtam, "Emergency power
available on your demand."
     "Here we go!"  The Flamboyant surged like a thing alive,
invigorated by the diverted power and the guidance of Niedrsha's
hands.  She rolled and soared with a dancer's grace through a
choreography as much pleasing to the eye as confusing to a
gunner.
     "Altitude:  one hundred forty nine kilometers." Niedrsha
announced, "Touch down seven minutes.  Passengers will please
fasten their seat belts..."
     The fringes of the atmosphere began to glow on the windows
of the ship.
     "We've lost radar contact.  We're in radio blackout." said
Miakr tensely.
     "Viepchakl!" breathed Jietlshaiepr, "We're a shooting star.
How can they miss?"
     Niedrsha caught her eye and grinned, "Just watch me,
sweetheart."
     The Flamboyant glowed cherry red as she twisted into Welles
atmosphere.
          - XII -
     A few minutes later the radio crackled.  "...ones.  Come in
Flamboyant.  'mergency...  'mergency... Come in Flamboyant.  'is
is Surgeon Lt. Jones o' the League o' Suns."
     Jietlshaiepr took the radio, "Flamboyant here, go ahead Lt."
     "Requestin' tight beam communications.  Change course,
repeat, change yer course... yer current headin' will take ya in
an 'ostile area.  Mercenary company `ats thick wi' the pirates.
Avoid island ot five degrees south, one forty eight east.  Heavy
defenses."
     "Gotcha." mumbled Niedrsha.
     "We've lost contact with the Spindleman." continued Jones.
"What ya got on her?"
     Miakr read off, "Uhhh... Spindleman took heavy laser damage.
maneuver drives out, jump drives too, I think.  Her power plant
was still going, but she was losing fuel."
     "Thank ya, Flamboyant.  Request rendezvous wi' ya ot eleven
degrees north, zero degrees east.  Thot's seventy kilometers
north o' the starport.  We're going te need each other."
     Jietlshaiepr sniffed, "Have you got anything to deal with a
ship of the line?"
     "Ah, Negative, Flamboyant."
     "Ok, Jones, but don't wait up for us.  We're busy.  We'll
give you a signal code burst...  Uhhh...  Stat Code Blue."
     "Affirmative, good luck.  Lt. Jones out."
     Miakr read the sensors, "Missile intercept coming up...
now!"
     Nuclear flowers blossomed in the night, lighting the
darkened side of the planet as the missiles crashed into the wing
SDB, flooding the spectrum with static.
     A moment later the second flight of missiles flew among the
SDBs.  The lead SDB flared as the missiles blazed into it.
     "They're hit, but still flying." called Miakr.  "Too much
interference from the blast.  I can't tell what it did to them."
     "Hold on!" growled Niedrsha, "Here comes the water...  We're
going in."
     The Flamboyant lurched as she hit the water.  Inertial
compensators strained to keep the stress down, but still it was a
rough ride.  The hull rattled and rang as water boiled off the
surfaces of the ship, blazing hot after the wild ride through the
atmosphere, sending billowing steam into the night.  Finally, she
stopped pitching as she lost weigh and drifted in the water.
     "Dive!  Dive!" called Jietlshaiepr, "Engine room, open fuel
stop cocks.  Take us down."
          - XIII -
     Missiles smashed into the surface of the water where the
Flamboyant had landed sending plumes of water hundreds of meters
in the air.
     Protected by the depths, the Flamboyant sank unharmed to the
bottom with her eyes wide open.  Jietlshaiepr studied the
sensors; densitometers and neutrino detector taking the place of
radar and ladar, not as accurate, but still workable.  "We're
safe down here for the moment...  We have fifty eight minutes
before the SDBs are in down.  The other five SDBs have followed
us down.  They will be here in one hundred and two minutes.  Star
Rider is still heading for the Kivas.  They'll rendezvous in...
two hours thirty seven minutes.  The other SDBs have turned to
rendezvous with the Star Rider.  Looks like they finished with
the...  Hold on... I'm picking up movement.  I can't identify...
It must be the Spindleman.  They're alive.  She's in a descending
orbit.  Dragoon must be crazy.  With all the damage, she'll burn
up."
     "Hold on." Niedrsha examined the sensors.  "I think they're
coming in for a EVA re-entry."
     "Combat drop." thought Jietlshaiepr, "Viepchakl, what a
ride.  They're gonna need a recovery team."
     "That ain't us.  Leave 'em to Jones." snorted Niedrsha.
"They'll be in position to try in in three hours forty four
minutes."
     "Seven SDBs:  two damaged, five fresh."
     "Well, in this atmosphere, they can't go any faster than we
can, and on the deck, we can go faster than they in a nape of the
ground mode."
     "That's not very comforting, but it's something." sighed
Jietlshaiepr.  "There's an ocean trench forty kilometers east.
We'll take them there."

          - XIV -
     The SBDs skimmed the surface, landed, submerged and came
hunting.
     Miakr read it off, "We've got one forty kilometers off to
the north east and one fifty to the south south east."
     "All right, let's go." Jietlshaiepr breathed.  The
Flamboyant was ready:  high explosive missiles loaded and the
power plant throttled down to minimum to avoid detection.
     The ship looked out into the murky depths.  Her densitometer
scanning the waters, she sought out the enemy power plants with
her neutrino detector.
     "Maximum range of our missiles is about fifteen kilometers
underwater.  We're gonna have to be awfully close." commented
Gresha.
     "They can't see as well as we can in water, their sensors
are not as good as ours:  those SDBs are only tech level twelve."
commented Shtam from the engine room.
     "Agreed, but at this range it won't help us that much."
interjected Kfoks.
     "One's breached the surface and is coming in overhead."
called Miakr.  "Forty three kilometers and closing bearing one six
three degrees.  Speed:  one thousand two hundred kilometers per
hour."
     "Ready missiles." called Jietlshaiepr.
     "Forty one kilometers... time to range mark:  one minute
ten seconds...  Mark!  The other one's following suit, bearing
five zero degrees, time to range mark:  one minute twenty five
seconds...  Mark!"
     "Niedrsha take us up to forty meters and put us over on our
starboard side.  Gunners stay sharp, dorsal turret take the east,
ventral take the south target."
     The SDBs bore in skimming the water meters over the surface.
Sending up huge blasts of water as their sonic booms blasted the
surface of the water setting up wakes that shone in the
moonlight.
     Seconds dragged by as the sensors counted the rapidly
decreasing range.
     Jietlshaiepr breathed heavily, "Begin evasive action.
Range?"
     Miakr read the sensors nervously, "Twenty two and thirty
kilometers respectively."
     "Open fire when the second is at twenty kilometers."
     "Thirty seconds." counted Miakr.  "Here they come...  Speed
one thousand...  Range twenty five...  Fifteen seconds...  Ten...
Range twenty two...  They're slowing down."
     "Damn the range, get 'em while they're airborne.  Open
fire."
     Six missiles left the tubes and speared through the water.
     "Intercept:  four seconds..." swallowed Miakr.
     "Niedrsha, take us down!  One hundred meters!"
     The Flamboyant dove for the bottom as the SDBs came
barrelling in.  Missiles smashed through the water and blasted
the after underbelly of the leader.  Caught, she flipped and
tumbled bow first into the water at nine hundred kilometers per
hour.  The bridge wind screen shattered and flooded the bridge.
The inertial compensators collapsed as the ship hit sending the
full force of the hypersonic crash throughout the ship.  End over
end the ship tumbled, spinning and spreading wreckage over a two
kilometer strech of open ocean.
     The second SDB caught a missile on her port bow throwing the
starboard side stern into the water.  Caught by the dragging
water she slewed around to starboard, spinning like a disk and
smashed her engines into the concrete hardness of the water at
the speed of sound.  She bounced and planed to a stop.
     She was badly twisted and riddled with gaps where armor
plating buckled and bent.  Quickly she filled with water and
sank.
     "She's going down..." called Miakr.  "Densitometer says
she's half full of water...  What's left of the hull won't hold
in the depths.  She's at two hundred meters and going down
fast...  Two fifty...  Hearing straining bulkheads...  three
hundred meters..."
     A huge explosion set the hull ringing.  The inertial
compensators took out most of the rocking.
     "She's blown up!  The magazines went!"
     Jietlshaiepr took a deep breath and flopped back in her
acceleration couch.  "Two down...  Five to go.  It isn't going to
be any easier:  they won't make that mistake twice."
          - XV -
     Two SDBs stayed in orbit.  Three came in lower.
     The Flamboyant lurked forty meters under, safe from
bombardment.  Every few minutes a lone missile came down and
exploded as it hit the surface.
     "They keep inching lower, but that's all." yawned Miakr
shaking with fatigue and nerves.  "Viepchakl, we've been at this
for nearly five hours.  Seven hours and fifty one minutes since
we received the Droyne distress signal."
     Jietlshaiepr smiled weakly, "Just be glad they aren't firing
nuclear rounds."
     Shtam, sighed over the intercom, "They are probably out of
nuclear missiles.  They only fired one:  that being at the Droyne
cruiser.  They have not used one more.  We on the other hand Have
used them.  That must be why they are staying off until they can
get the big guns to bear on us:  the Star Rider's spinal mount
meson accelerator."
     Niedrsha brushed the hair from his forehead, "That's not for
a while yet, they're still fifty minutes away from the Kivas.  I
hope they don't find your work Shtam."
     "Ok!" barked Jietlshaiepr jumping to her feet.  "Gresha, you
awake?"
     "Rrrrrrrrooff!" yawned Gresha, "Yeah, I'm still on my feet."
     "How many missiles have we got?"
     "Oh, we've still got quite a few.  Plus the ones still in
the Vipers, oh...  eighteen fission rounds, thirty one high
explosive."
     "Ok, what loads have you got in there now?"
     "Fission."
     "Right.  In forty minutes I want you to reload with high
explosive."
     "Why?"
     "They don't know how many missiles we have.  If we convince
them we're out of nuclear rounds, we can coax them down for a
good shot at them when they're in the atmosphere."
     Niedrsha smiled getting the picture, "And if we convince
them when they're taking the Kivas on board the Star Rider..."
     Jietlshaiepr nodded, "They'll be too busy to find Shtam's
handiwork."
          - XVI -
     "Miakr, Niedrsha, wake up."  Jietlshaiepr shook the bridge
crew awake.  "Rendezvous:  Star Rider has been standing off the
Kivas for six minutes.  That's just enough for them to find the
booby trap in the magazines.
     "Gresha, are you ready?" she asked.
     "High explosive rounds loaded in the dorsal turret, nuclear
in the ventral.  When we're ready we flip and fire."
     "Miakr, what altitude are they at?"
     "The three are at one hundred seventy kilometers, the other
two are at twenty nine thousand:  synchronous orbit."
     "Gresha, fire one missile at each of the low targets.  Just
one missile at a time.  Get across to them we're running out."
     "Firing!"
     The first missile rose to fifty kilometers before the enemy
lasers blew it to shreds.
     The second was blown apart at one hundred twenty kilometers.
     The third hit.
     "Out gassing, looks like we hit a fuel tank." sighed Miakr.
     "Gresha, fire one round at each of the ships's we didn't
hit.  Leave the other alone."
     "Firing!"
     The SDBs sidestepped the missiles and blasted them from the
sky with their lasers.
     "All right, Gresha one more shot at the leading one and
that's it."
     "Firing!"
     The missile lifted clear of the atmosphere and hit the
leader.
     Miakr studied the read out, "Can't read any damage...  We
connected though...  Hold on...  Here they come!  One hundred
sixty kilometers and descending.  They'll start re-entry in
thirty seconds.
     "Niedrsha, surface!  Laser turrets, fire when breach."
     The Flamboyant rose and broke the surface in the dark night.
     Six 250 megawatt X-ray lasers struck out into the blackness.
Three fireballs streaking through the upper atmosphere could not
evade.
     "We hit two of them, I can't read any thing definite."
growled Miakr.
     "Maintain fire!  Hit 'em while their burning!"
     The lasers hummed, sending streams of high energy photons into
into the night.
     "We've hit them a few times." strained Miakr, "I can't see a
damn thing...  They're coming out of re-entry.  Altitude one
hundred ten kilometers."
     "Dive!  Dive!  Take us down, Niedrsha!  One hundred meters!"
     Flamboyant went under shaking from the blasts as the surface
was pummeled with visible light lasers and high explosive
missiles.
     "Are you sure it's a good idea to DRAW their attention?"
asked Miakr incredulously.
     "Better their's than Star Rider's."
     "Point taken."
     The surface of the water glowed bright white as the lasers
of the three SDBs tried vainly to reach the Flamboyant.  The
power diffused too rapidly through the ocean water.
     "We loose a flight of nuclear missiles when they're at five
kilometers.  Power down all unnecessary systems.  Prepare for
fission blast."
     "Five minutes forty till firing..." called off Miakr.
"Altitude:  ninety five kilometers..."
     Shtam cut power to general systems and rigged the current
grounds to the engine capacitors.  The electromagnetic pulse
picked up by the ship's electronics would be channeled into the
power plant restart system.  This should avoid most of the damage
and shorts triggered by the atomic fission blast.  The computer,
power and other vital systems would be triggered to shut down
after the missiles fired.
     In advance the systems were pre-checked for emergency
restart.
     Miakr read, "Twenty seconds to fire...  Altitude ten
kilometers..."
     "Invert the ship." ordered Jietlshaiepr.  "Everyone strap
in.  We'll lose artificial gravity when we cut power."
     Miakr counted the range, "Ten seconds...  Seven
kilometers...  Five...  Four.....  Two...  One...  Fire!"
     Three fission warheads left the missile racks of the
darkening Flamboyant.
     The missiles rose at eight G's for seven seconds.  Streaking
into the night and into the heart of the SDB formation.
          - XVII -
     The dawn was just breaking over the ocean.  Clouds streaked
across the deep bluish black of the horizon.  Suddenly, three
suns came up briefly burning into the sky, mountains of electric
fire.  The thunder went far and deep across the surface of
Welles.
          - XVIII -
     Three SDBs spun wildly out of control caught off guard by a
nuclear blast.  Two of them fell uncontrollably and smashed into
the sea disintegrating on the surface.
     The third and farthest from the blast spiraled away flaming
as her blasted fuel tanks gave up their hydrogen blood.  She came
spinning down, loosing power as her power plant strangled itself.
     The pilot, surrounded by the corpses of the rest of the
bridge crew, pulled up.  The power was fading fast.  The nose
stayed up but the drives were failing.  Descending fast, the ship
came down and skimmed the surface headed for shore.  The inertial
compensators failed he strapped himself in and waited for the
shock of impact.  Ground effect kept her aloft for a few hundred
meters then she hit:  stern first.
     She plowed through the water to a stop.  Quickly, the
cracked fuel tanks filled with water:  hydrogen for the fusion
plant.  But the tortured power plant had suffered enough.  It grew
cold in its innards and refused to restart.
     The fuel tanks leaked, flooding the engine room and aft
sections.  The deck tilted as the stern went down.
     The pilot got up and struggled to the air lock:  unmovable
with the power shut down.  Quickly, he grabbed a survival kit and
fired the explosive bolts of the windscreen.
     He climbed painfully out onto the nose of the SDB, inflated
the raft, and flung it and himself into the water.
          - XIX -
     Flamboyant's power came back quickly.
     "Good work, Shtam.  All stations report in!" called
Jietlshaiepr.
     Calls came in from all over the ship.
     "Computer operational!  Sensors... noisy, but operational!"
     "Helm answering!"
     "Engine room, all drives check!"
     "Dorsal missile turret check!"
     "Ventral missile turret check!"
     "Starboard laser turret check!"
     "Port laser turret check!"
     "We were very lucky..." sighed Jietlshaiepr.  "Miakr, where is
the Star Rider?"
     Miakr's eyes grew wide, "She's coming right at us!"
     A blast of heavy meson fire exploded through the water.
     "VIEPCHAKLVA!" Jietlshaiepr screamed.  "Shtam!  Detonate the
plant!  NOW!"
     The Kivas power plant suddenly activated and ran up to full
power.  The electromagnetic plasma bottle drew the full power of
the fusion plant containing the plasma even tighter inducing more
fusion reactions in the hydrogen plasma.  The increased power was
fed into the plasma bottle drawing the plasma even tighter
increasing power in a geometric progression...
1..2..4..8..16..32..64..128..256..512..1024..2048..4096..8192..
16384..32768..65536..131072..262144..524288..1048576..2097152..
     The dawn sky flared with a blinding fusion flash for a
second which broke the Star Rider's back.  Molten pieces of the
pirate ship blossomed into space, flaring and burning as they hit
the atmosphere or freezing as they drifted into interplanetary
space.
          - XX -
     An hour later, the main bridge crew was sleeping off the
battle.  Taek Kfoks turned away from the sensors and back to the
helm.  "I guess they were right.  The two SDBs haven't moved from
orbit.  They're just sitting there.  There's nowhere they can go:
they aren't jump capable, and they don't want to take us on.
They'll just have to wait it out."
     "And we're trapped down here!" snarled Tuerz.
     Kfoks nodded calmly, "True, if we took off, we'd never make
jump before they'd be shaking us in their jaws.  Their detectors
can pick up a one gigawatt fusion plant.  We'd have to run power
up to a minimum of that to get this ship to move.  The fighters
and the Gig could move, but where would you go on this planet?"
     "Grrrraaph.  I'd like to saw their fingers off one by one.
Taek, I can't stand this waiting!  I've got to kill someone.
Maybe Stuzzel..."
     Long used to his excitable friend's nervous murderousness,
Kfoks responded quietly and calmly, "No, don't kill him.  We need
him.  We're in too much of a jam for you to have fun with him."
     "But one day, you'll let me kill him won't you?"
     "Sure, if it comes to that, but I hope you'll get a chance
to get one of the enemy.  There's a mercenary company on this
planet, probably with connections to the pirates.  If we can
catch..."
     "Interrogate!" grinned Tuerz.
     "Yes." nodded Kfoks.
     "Torture..." sighed Tuerz.
     "Yes." nodded Kfoks.
     Tuerz went into a silent reverie contemplating the
interrogation of a captured mercenary.
     Kfoks sighed inwardly.  Tuerz was getting close to panic
with pressure and inaction.  It was fortunate that he enjoyed his
fantasies enough to take away the panic, but Tuerz blood lust
was up now.  At least it had been channeled towards the enemy.
Left to himself, Tuerz could be a danger to almost everyone.
          - XXI -
     Jietlshaiepr sat yawning and sipping her morning tea in sick
bay listening to the grateful Droyne captain explain their story.
They got through the shredded galanglic slowly with the help of the
other Droyne:
     They were a trade convoy out of Tesser, a large population
planet in the Consulate, headed back from a tour of the systems
around the sector that had Droyne inhabitants.  They jumped to
Welles for fuel.  The planet's inhabitants were having big
trouble.  A strange plague which only killed certain human
genotypes and an apparently high tech mercenary company involved
in slaving on the low tech planet.
     The League of Suns had sent an expedition to find out about
all the trouble and they had apparently cured the disease.
     The Droyne got their fuel and were heading out when BANG!
     They had been rather well armed because of the mounting
piracy in the sector.  Thus they carried a six Droyne team of
drop troops.
     Yes, actually, they had heard of Dr. Malenkoviepr.  Born on
Tesser, fully integrated into Droyne society and understanding.
Never met him, but understand he's quite intelligent for a human
with their strange ways...
          - XXII -
     Shtam took the Gig's controls and dropped away from the
submerged Flamboyant.
      "Go five kilometers south and surface." ordered
Jietlshaiepr.  "We'll transmit the signal:  'Stat Code Blue'.
That'll bring Lt. Jones to the rendezvous point."
     Kfoks began checking over his huge armored tilly.  "We'd
better be ready.  If Dragoon is typical of them they might try to
commandeer the Flamboyant."
     "I'd like to see them try." laughed Gresha stroking the side
of the tilly with the armored gloves of her battle dress.
     Jietlshaiepr shook her head and checked her fusion gun,
"They just better not.  We've got enough troubles as it is."
     "They obviously need help or they would not have requested
this meeting." observed Vole.  "It is not beyond human capacity
to take what they need."
          - XXIII -
     Vole stalked through the underbrush of the prairie towards
the grounded Air/Raft, pausing to examine the territory for signs
of travel.
     An animal had passed through the underbrush three hours ago,
large, approximately one hundred twenty kilograms, hooves with
three divisions, probably a herbivore, the tracks indicated a
foot built for agility or climbing, not clawing or a weapon.
Herbivores could be dangerous, but probably not to as well armed
a party as Flamboyant's crew.
     At six hundred meters, Vole flicked on his telescopic vision
from concealment in the grasses.  Two figures in battle dress,
two in combat armor, Imperial model battle dress with League of
suns emblems.  The figures in battle dress were carrying gauss
rifles and one was carrying a large primitive plasma gun:  almost
assuredly a PGMP-12.  The two in combat armor were unarmed, but
laser rifles were nearby.  Three of the reception committee had
their helmets open and appeared to be women.  The fourth, in
combat armor, had the helmet fastened.
     Vole crept closer and began to scan for neural activity.  At
five hundred meters the neural activity sensor picked up the
committee.  A bit weak for four, but there were no other large
life forms in range.
     At three hundred meters Vole could advance no further
without being seen, and he began to circle the Air/Raft to cover
the entire area with his NAS.  It didn't take long to discover
the area was clean of ambushers.  It did take a longer time to
resolve the psionic emanations of the Air/Raft crew.  There were
only two sources of neural activity.
          - XXIV -
     The radio sang out as the Gig landed.  "Surgeon Lt. Jones
here, Flamboyant Gig, do ya hove any males aboard?"
     Jietlshaiepr, took the radio confused, "Affirmative, Jones."
     "There's a bioagent loose on the planet:  lethal te ninety
two percent o' human males exposed an' point six percent o'
females.  All humans must wear protective clothing.  I hove a
serum which hos so far proven effective, bu' only as a vaccine.
It doesn'a cure victims, but can provides inoculation."
     "Thank you for the warning."
     The cargo lift dropped to the ground lowering Kfoks in the
Tilly while Jietlshaiepr and Gresha flew out on their grav belts.
Shtam climbed down the landing ladder.
     Jones stepped up, unarmed, presenting himself and opening
the helmet of his combat armor, and bowed in imitation of Zhodani
fashion.
     "Not bad looking," thought Jietlshaiepr to herself as she
nodded acknowledging him (nobles don't bow), "If only he were
Zhodani height..."
     Vole sounded on a private radio circuit, "Watch him, he's
psi-shielded."
     "Surgeon Lt. Jones." he said by way of introduction. "Allow
me te welcome ya te Welles."
     Shtam, picking up the role of lieutenant made the
introductions, "Allow me to introduce our exalted captain:  in
your terms the Lt. Dame Jietlshaiepr." the title was redundant,
but it would reinforce Jietlshaiepr as an authority figure.
     "Force leader Taek Kfoks..." he gestured to the huge form of
Kfoks in the tilly.  Kfoks turned the head of the tilly to focus
on Jones as though unintentionally bringing the tilly's laser
welder, gauss rifle, RAM auto grenade launcher and fusion gun to
bear on Jones head.
     "First Lt. Gresha..." Gresha nodded to Jones and shouldered
her own fusion gun.
     "And I am Shtam." he bowed, ill concealing the gauss rifle
strapped to his back.
     The private frequency sounded with Shtam's voice.  "The two
officers are carrying concealable submachine guns:  those
featureless black boxes on their belts."
     Jones introduced his party.  The woman in combat armor was
Surgeon Ens. Smith who Vole cautioned was also psi-shielded,
while the two League marines in battle dress were Cpl. Delt and
Pvt. Walker.  Walker carried what was definitely a PGMP-12 of
League manufacture.
     "How many humans in yer crew captain?" asked Jones, "I've
got te give ya sufficient vaccine fer ya an' yer crew."
     "We have five humans aboard." stated Jietlshaiepr.  "I
require an additional dose to examine myself, along with a sample
of the bioagent."
     "Agreed, I thought ya'd want a sample.  I hove six doses
here yer free to examine.  The virus is possibly type 9 or A
selective:  It reads human genetic material an' kills unless
certain genes are present.  It's usually a race specific disease,
bu' in this case, it's also a sex specific one."
     "What genetic structure does it attack?"
     Jones put on an authoritative air, "Ah, it combines with
skin pigmentation genes on the DNA strand.  Whar certain genes
are present, the DNA's modified so that in the normal protein
synthesis process, whar the cell would ordinarily produce
pigment, the cell produces toxic combinations of amino acids.
     "However in women," he continued, "the gene sites appear to
be affected differently:  the toxins created merely result in
sterility."
     "And what type of vaccine have you against this virus?"
sighed Jietlshaiepr trying to sound unimpressed.
     Jones shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "The
serum is a standard one with little modification.  It actually is
a serum we use to correct genetic diseases an' birth defects by
restructuring the DNA to the normal pattern."
     "WHICH normal pattern?  There are many.  As many as there
are human races."
     "Ah, yea..." stumbled Jones.  "Actually we originally
developed this stuff from work done in the Dynchia Commita, so I
presume it's their 'normal' genetic pattern."
     "So you don't mind your children having a mane, fangs and
six fingers:  very liberal of you Lt. Jones."
     Jones laughed, "Ah, my own gametes are in a sperm bank
somewhere back home.  The League wouldn'a dare lose these hands."
     Ensign Smith interjected, "It should correct defects, not
traits."
     "I would presume that the Dynchia would regard traits such
as having only five fingers defective." observed Jietlshaiepr.
     "I concur." interjected Jones, "But, we've modified it fer
our own uses.  An' anyway, there's a mixture o' just about every
human race in the League, even Zhodani.  I'd assume it won't
radically change yer crew's genetic structure, Cap'n
Jietlshaiepr.  If that's what ya fear, I'd suggest that ya put
samples of yer own crew's gametes in cold storage."
     "I shall have to investigate what genetic structures it does
effect before deciding wither or not to use it.  There probably
are less drastic ways of dealing with this than your serum, but
the availability of such medications is not immediate.
     "What do you know about non humans?  Are any other species
affected by the disease?"
     "Not that we know of."  Commented Smith, "There're a few
Aslani an' Vargr on Welles but they've not been affected.
     "By the way," she continued with one eyebrow raised, "I
couldn'a help noticing that yer're flying an Imperial built Gig,
like one from a Gazelle class close escort..."
     "The Flamboyant is from the Fiery sub-class of the Gazelle."
corrected Kfoks, "Gazelle class escorts are not streamlined, and
can not enter atmospheres."
     "An ex-corsair, captured by my crew." explained
Jietlshaiepr, "Probably from this very same pirate band."
     "Ahh, then you are Not Zhodani navy." observed Smith.  "An'
Zhodani military wouldn't carry Vargr troops either."
     "Not necessarily." she admitted, and changed the subject.
"Lt. Jones, you asked us here for a meeting.  What is it you
wish?"
     "Ah, partly te congratulate you on yer actions an' escape,
an' partly to osk yer assistance.  With the Spindleman out o'
action, there's a limit to what we can do here.  Whot exactly is
the situation in orbit?"
     "Star Rider vaporized, taking most of her attack craft with
her.  There are still two SDBs in orbit watching the Flamboyant.
There may yet be a Fanzheinz class trader out there.
     "As for the Spindleman, the last we saw on our instruments
it was heading for a bail out."
     "They're alive?"
     "It would seem so, they had partially recovered power.  That
was the last I heard of them.  We presumed you would have
arranged their pick up."
     Jones hit his radio circuit.  "Recon one, go to five
kilometers altitude and scan.  Report any re-entrys or homing
beacons."
     Vole came over the radio, "I can make out a military recon
robot climbing.  Distance:  one point six kilometers."
     "Exactly what is the disposition of the enemy encampment you
mentioned?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     Corporal Delt stepped forward eyeing the Flamboyant's crew
with a degree of distrust.  "Me an' Walker made a recon sweep out
on the island they hold.  Got in pretty close:  managed ta get a
pretty good look.  They got two four hundred ton fat traders in
camouflage, three 'eavy artillery platforms, two G-carriers, an'
an Air/Roft.  I guess their strength's about a company:  about A
hundred an' twenty."
     "They appear te be on a slave taking mission." interjected
Jones.  "The population of several small towns hove vanished."
     "I would estimate that the two traders could lift the
company an' equipment, but not with any cargo of slaves."
     "Yeah," agreed Delt.  "They got a crater fenced off:  looks
like it was blasted wi' artillery:  prob'ly where they keep
pris'ners.  We tried gettin' in closer bu' they saw us.  We took
fire, woulda been hit if they'da used bullets.  They splattered
us wi' tranq rounds.  We took off an' our 'bots covered us.  Took
'em a while ta get anything heavy on us, bu' they opened up wi' a
light assault gun an' that damaged the 'bots some."
     The recon robot came over the radio, "Have found three
re-entry traces and one auto-distress signal."
     Jones looked confused, "Coming from the re-entry?"
     "Negative, out at sea:  bearing:  one hundred four degrees,
range:  seven hundred forty kilometers approximate.  Also picking
up three craft moving to intercept re-entrys and distress signal."
     "Identify craft."
     "Craft moving to intercept re-entry tracks are two G-carriers.
Craft moving to intercept distress signal is one Air/Raft."
     Jietlshaiepr thought out loud, "We downed about five
SDBs..."
     "Then this'd be our chance te get a prisoner." concluded
Smith.
          - XXV -
     The plan formed quickly.  Cpl. Delt took the Air/Raft and
recon robot after the freefalling Spindleman's crew.  They would
be able to pick up two before the G-carriers got there.  A guard
robot would take care of the third crew member.  Meanwhile, there
was the distress signal to answer...
          - XXVI -
     The Gig raced over the surface of Welles under Shtam's
careful piloting.
     Ens. Smith sat tensely as she related Welles culture, "The
planet 'ad a feudal system set up about a hundred years ago when
the free trader Warsaw set down.  They hod jump drive trouble:
they couldn'a make jump an' couldn'a repair it.
     "The Warsaw's captain usurped the government in an attempt
te get 'is ship repaired, bu' the power struggle took a while an'
when they hod the means to leave they didn'a want to:  they'd
conquered the whole bloody planet.
     "Not all Welles nobles accepted the usurper, bu' the crew
were pretty innovative; managed te take the ship's cargo of grav
modules an' build whot are essentially:  grav powered ironclads.
With air power, the crew managed te make the claim te the throne
stick.  Actually, it's not a throne:  the Warsaw's now the palace
of the government so it's the command chair.  The ship can'na
take off, bu' it's still operational.  The fusion plant powers
the main city around the starport.
     "The position of captain's hereditary.  The current captain:
Captain Billy the Third is'na able te 'andle the responsibility.
'e locked himself in the Warsaw until we arrived te avoid the
plague.  Maybe it saved 'is life, but with no government the
whole planet's in turmoil:  totally unable to 'andle the slavers.
     "Most of their grav ironclads are out of commission, not
because they've engaged the mercenaries, other than a few minor
skirmishes, bu' because nearly half their crews are dead from the
bioagent."
     Kfoks cocked his ears, "Is there any organization still
intact among the natives?"
     Smith took a deep breath, "Well, their navy still hos a few
ships operational:  four or five aerial ironclads, no' counting
what surface ships they have left.  They lost most or all o'
their dirigibles an' surface ships when the crews caught the
plague:  just couldn'a handle the ship when bad weather caught
'em.  The ironclads had the speed to make it back te base before
the crews died.
     "They've got one large aerial ironclad an' several smaller
ones.  Their admiral's kept their flagship going by transferring
crews:  the Pasadena. I tell you, they're the weirdest looking
things I've ever seen:  grav technology with steam engine
propellers and cannons."
     Kfoks regarded her closely, "What's the population of this
planet?"
     Smith took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Two months
ago, it were seven million, eight hundred thousand people."
images of the last two weeks of death passed over her face.  "We
estimate... three an' a half million dead."
          - XXVII -
     "Picking up radiation." observed Jietlshaiepr.  "Dangerous
in long exposure, no more than fifteen minutes outside...
Picking up something in the water... small, distorted, but it's
there...  coming in visual range."
     The downed SDB was barely afloat.  Only the bridge remained
above water with its wind screen blown out by explosive bolts.
The hull was scarred and burned by nuclear fire.  The plates bent
and cracked from the crash impact.
     "There 'e is!" called Jones.  A limp figure in a rubber raft
drifted a hundred meters from the wrecked ship.
     Vole's voice came over the suit radio in Zhodani, "I read
him out as semiconscious.  There is another life source inside
the ship:  roughly I'd say in the engine room.  Condition
unconscious, but definitely alive."
     Jietlshaiepr thought aloud, "Shtam, set us down.  Gresha,
you grab the one in the raft.  It's too risky to board that
thing, but..."
     Gresha climbed into the airlock as Jietlshaiepr began to
concentrate on psionically feeling her way into the ship.  The
ship shuddered slightly as the Gig plowed along the surface.
Gresha tumbled outside and into the water.  She sank quickly
under the weight of her battle dress before rising free on her
grav belt.  She skimmed the waves to the drifting raft.
     It was a five person raft bobbing about like a cork with
it's only occupant.  He was sprawled face down in the center of
the raft wearing a vac suit.  The helmet lay nearby with a
shattered face plate.  The floor of the raft was rolling with
vomit.
     "Srrishe, furr sorze gorrar!" translates directly as 'Vile,
personal finger noise.', and idiomatically as 'Bleech!'  Gresha
hauled him out and dipped the pirate in the ocean before she pulled
him aloft.
     "'ey, Should we bother wi' the other?" wondered Jones.  "We
got one, mate?"
     "Quiet!" barked Jietlshaiepr.  She stared into the wreck
with her eyes closed.  Seconds later, she vanished into the
proverbial thin air.
     Smith and Jones exchanged glances.  Waves beat over the
rolling, half submerged SDB threatening to send it to the bottom
as they washed close to the missing windscreen.
     Jietlshaiepr appeared standing on the ships hull as it
rolled.  She was lugging a limp figure in a vac suit.  She lifted
it in her arms carefully and took off with her grav belt.
Slowly, she moved up and into the Gig's airlock.
     "This one's in pretty bad shape." she called.  "Even with
better attention than we can give I don't think she'd recover
consciousness."
     Smith and Jones examined the one Gresha had brought in.
"This one's pretty bad," commented Smith, "We need to get 'im
cleaned off and on intravenous.  Radiation, exposure, shock,
second degree burns on the face, we have to get 'im out o' this
suit:  it's radioactive."
     Jietlshaiepr grabbed a pair of pliers, "First thing's
first."  She pushed Jones aside and grabbed the pirates head.
She deftly forced his mouth open against his will and quickly
looked inside.  She found what she was looking for quickly and
grabbed with the pliers.
     A bloody tooth came out.  The pirate screamed and passed
out.
     "Wha..." began Jones, then comprehending, "Ahh... Suicide
capsule.  Quick thinking."
     Jietlshaiepr removed the other prisoner's tooth more gently.
"I think this one's about had it.  Radiation, internal injuries,
shock..."
          - XXVIII -
     The Gig raced back towards the continent.
     Corporal Delt the radioed her report, "I got Turner, she's
O.K." pause, "Spacehand Apprentice Coleman is dead:  Suit burned
through in re-entry.  I'll rendezvous with Lt. Dragoon in
seventeen minutes."
     "What's our ETA?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     "Sixteen minutes." read Shtam.
     "And the two G-carriers should be right about on top of her
by now." thought Smith.
          - XXIX -
     Dragoon watched from cover with the guard robot.  The two
G-carriers circled around looking at the wilted parachute from
her re-entry kit with their laser turrets spinning around like
great white, one eyed hawks.
     One hawk dropped down for a closer look.  It hovered for a few
seconds a meter above the ground and then set down.  Quickly, the
rear hatch opened and the hawk's brood jumped out:  a fire team of
four armed with advanced combat rifles.
     Dragoon raised her laser rifle to the ready.
     The leader started to motion the team to fan out when his
black combat environment suit flared red over the left breast and
burst into flame.  He clutched at his chest and went down.
     A burst of gauss rifle fire from the guard robot sprayed the
team as it glanced around in confusion.  Two more fell with
bloodied suits.  The fourth, wounded, still managed to stand and
fire a burst in the air before being cut down by Dragoon's laser.
     Dragoon burst from cover and ran for the hatch screaming.
     The robot flew directly for the second G-carrier and grabbed
its under carriage.
     Bursts of rifle fire rang from inside the first G-carrier
followed by the sizzle of a laser.
     The guard robot began ripping away the hull of the G-carrier.
The metal bent easily under its huge strength.  A moment later it
exposed a grav module and sent a burst of gauss rifle fire into the
works.  It sputtered and shorted briefly.  The G-carrier took on a
list.
     A sizzle sounded inside the downed G-carrier.
     More metal tore away from the G-carrier a second grav module
hove into view.  The robot fired into the second module when
Dragoon sounded on its radio.  "Robot, get off that thing!"  It
dropped away from the listing G-carrier when the first G-carrier
opened fire.
     The laser lanced into the sky missing by five meters.  The
second pulse missed by two meters.  Then, the underside of the
G-carrier exploded.  Tiny bits of fusion plant flew out from the
shattered hull.
     Without power, the G-carrier fell like a stone.  It dropped
twenty meters and smashed itself into the ground.  The fuel tanks
ruptured and hydrogen flared into the sky.  The armor caught fire
and the ship blazed like a furnace.
     A moment later, in the Gig they heard Dragoon screaming wildly
over the radio.
          - XXX -
     They found her lounging on the rear hatch of the G-carrier
with a grin on her face, laser rifle on her shoulder, smoking a
cigarette while blood streamed down her arm from a hole in her
combat armor.
     In the back ground a radio sounded, "come in... G-carrier one
come in...  Report..."
     Jones looked over the wound while Smith and Jietlshaiepr
climbed inside the G-carrier.
     "It's a standard Tarsan class G-carrier:  tech level ten,
Imperial design." commented Smith as she made her way forward.
     "No identifying marks on it... can't tell where it was built."
thought Jietlshaiepr aloud.
     "I wouldn'a expect there te be any." answered Smith, "Bu' with
the radio open we can send a distress call..."
          - XXXI -
     The ambush was quickly laid out.  Kfoks began digging out fox
holes with the tilly.  Trees were broken up to provide cover with
small fires for fake infrared traces to confuse detectors.  Shtam
rigged the fusion plant of the G-carrier to detonate while Turner
set up a proximity fuse coupled with a timer.  Turner, Dragoon and
Smith hid inside to man the guns and use its radio to jam
communications.
     Shtam would be set off in the Gig a kilometer and a half away
for emergencies.
     Twenty minutes after the auto distress beacon was activated,
Jones' recon robot picked up a launch headed out from the
mercenaries island to the battle field.
          - XXXII -
     The launch came in low over the field.  A cautious vulture
with its single eye of a missile turret scanning the ground as it
circled over the bodies of the two fallen hawks.  Infrared signals
registered like a platoon down on the surface.  The vulture
hesitated at putting its tail feathers into such a nest.
     The radio sounded.  "This is launch number two, we've got a
battle field here...  No visible survivors...  Looks like enemy
forces, SDB five stand by to give us a laser barrage..."
     Smith cut in the G-carrier's jammer.
     A few moments later the launch opened fire on the largest fake
emplacement.
     Dirt and rocks leaped skyward and rained down on the concealed
ambushers.
     Turner cut loose a blast of laser fire from the G-carrier's
turret.  Three fusion guns and one plasma gun blasted away at the
launch as it nearly hovered over the scene.
     The missile turret began to swing round to bear on the
captured G-carrier.  A second pulse of the heavy laser found the
launch.
     The launch was enshrouded in flame as liquid hydrogen spewed
from a rupture in the fuel tank.  It swerved a moment to port and
brought the missile tube to bear on the G-carrier.
     Ens. Smith appeared on the Gig in underclothes.  "Get moving!
We're in trouble!"
     Shtam glanced sidelong at Smith.  "Not only a teleport, but
a blasted cute one too..."  The Gig leapt under expert control.
     "Concentrate fire on the turret!" shouted Jietlshaiepr over
the sear of plasma bolts.
     The missile tube was suddenly enshrouded in fire as the guns
were brought to bear.
     "We can't touch it!" howled Gresha.
     Suddenly, the missile tube fired.  The nose of the warhead
came clear of the tube and jammed solid.
     The turret exploded, throwing shrapnel and flame.  The launch
canted off to port and swung away wobbling.  The Gig blasted over
the horizon blazing laser fire.
     The launch was caught in a hell of X-rays.  The drives
exploded and cut out.  It screamed into the ground and rolled like
a tin can.  It finally ground to a halt and lay on its back in a
burning mass of twisted wreckage.
     "Shtam, bring it on down!" shouted Jietlshaiepr, "TEAM!  We
are leaving!"
          - XXXIII -
     The Gig lunged toward the coast throttled back.  At transonic
speeds Shtam flew it over the trees at three hundred meters.  Going
supersonic would attract too much attention:  too much heat, too
much atmospheric disturbance.
     "If the SDBs are awake they'll spot us very soon." growled
Kfoks.  "The explosions back there must have howled to the whole
planet."
     "This one is dead." announced Vole.  He dragged the body of
the pirate that Jietlshaiepr rescued to the air lock.  Quickly, the
lock was stuffed, closed and made ready to drop the body.
     "Let's get the other strapped into one o` the low berths."
suggested Jones.  "We'll get 'im set up for interog..."
     A dull thud resounded through the hull as one point five
gigawatts of photon energy struck the ground five hundred meters
aft of the fleeing Gig.
     "They found us!" snapped Shtam.
     He sent the Gig into a flurry of twisting corkscrews.
Cushioned by the inertial compensators, everyone but Shtam got a
smooth ride.  But it's easier to maneuver when you can feel
something of what you're doing.  Shtam, however, only felt one
tenth of one G where he should have been crushed by the force of
six.
     Another thud managed to be heard through the sound proofing
of the Gig's hull and above the howl of mach point nine six.
"They're getting too close!  How far to the ocean?"
     "Five kilometers." Shtam replied mechanically, deep in
concentration as the Gig responded like a thing alive under his
fingers.  "I would advise you all... to... strap in... because we
are going to dump... HARD..."
     The passengers checked their belts.  Impact too fast and no
inertial comps in the universe would save them.
     "Ten seconds..." a third thud resounded through the hull:
nearer this time.
     Shtam whipped the Gig around and slammed the engines on full
throttle.  The Gig slowed as it fell toward the water.  In three
seconds the ship slowed from transonic speed and slammed into the
water at twenty kilometers an hour.  The hull rang with the jolt of
the sudden stop as the strain pulled on the inertial comps.
     "Dive!" shouted Jietlshaiepr.
     Shtam dove.  Their tracking systems would figure out what had
happened in a few se...
     Something let out an eerie high pitched scream.  The hull
sounded like a kettle drum for a moment as the ocean was brought to
a small boil around it.
     "Damage?" called Jietlshaiepr.
     Shtam hesitated, "Nothing I can see...  Systems check... all
green."
     "Their lasers can't get through water." explained Kfoks.
     "Yeah, we're safe, but we're stuck in the briar patch, Brer
Kfoks." sighed Jones.
          - XXXIV -
     The Gig cruised at thirty kilometers an hour along the ocean
bottom, making its way along the submarine canyons back to the
trench that hid the Flamboyant.
     "All right, everyone," sighed Jietlshaiepr, "Seeing as we have
little alternative but taking you to the Flamboyant.  I must ask
you to surrender your weapons, and the helmets to your armor."
Carefully she examined the faces of the League of Suns crew.
Various familiar states of distrust on unfamiliar visages.
     "Very well," announced Jones.  He unbuckled his laser rifle
and handed it to her.  He seemed slightly startled when she held
out a hand for his folding machine gun, but he handed it over as
well.
     Slowly, the weapons were collected.  Smith handed over her
laser rifle and folding machine gun.  Delt gave up her gauss rifle.
Walker hesitated markedly, but gave up the PGMP-12.
     Dragoon came last.  She ignored the collection until it came
to her and then her sole response was to grip the laser rifle more
tightly.
     Jietlshaiepr looked her over frostily, "Lt. Dragoon, please
surrender your rifle."
     "No."
     "I will not allow you to come within a hundred kilometers of
the ship carrying that.  You can forget commandeering our ship.
Try it and you won't get three paces."
     "Dragoon..." growled Jones.  "Hand it over."
     "Is that an order?"
     "Do I have to make it one?"
     Dragoon thought it over, angrily staring at Jones.  "Right."
she breathed, "Here."
     The rifle was half passed, half thrown.
     Jietlshaiepr caught it quickly and the two froze, staring at
each other.
     "Our soldiers do not trust each other." sighed Jones, "I would
not have it any other way."
     Jietlshaiepr stared at Dragoon, "Indeed, such things are
true of both sides."
          - XXXV -
     Once docked with the Flamboyant, sickbay was evacuated and
sealed while Jietlshaiepr teleported inside to evaluate the
vaccine.
     Jones and Smith blindfolded the prisoner and strapped him in
a low berth.  Normally used for cryogenic suspension in an
emergency, they also made good sensory deprivation chambers.
     Slowly, they let him return to consciousness.
     Jones knelt next to the berth concentrating oddly on the
instrument read out.
     "This human has to be a telepath..." breathed Kfoks.
          - XXXVI -
     "What?...  Where am I?  I was on the bridge...  We crashed...
I've bailed out!...
     Ok...  I was in the raft when somebody picked me up...  They
took my tooth...  I've been captured...
     Thank god for training camp...  It took 'em three weeks to
break me there..."
     The prisoner's consciousness began to drop as he went
carefully and deliberately to sleep.
          - XXXVII -
     Tuerz climbed down from the airlock wearing his female costume
with his fur dyed red white and black.  He carried a black leather
case while his jeweled laser pistol hung from its holster.
     He looked at the prisoner in the low berth, "Taek!" he grinned
at Kfoks, "You've brought me a present!"
     Tuerz opened the black case to reveal a collection of knives,
brass knuckles, whips, blackjacks, and scalpels.  Antique
thumbscrews, hand cuffs, electrodes all set carefully into the red
velvet of the case.
     Lt. Jones peered into the case.  There were several wigs in
the bottom of the case.  Odd wigs...  They had skin attached...
Jones stared at the scalps.  Beautifully carved, obviously the
taker had been very, very talented and very, very patient.  Briefly
he used his psionics to examine the instruments psychic auras.
But, against the background of the scalps, the box exuded nothing
but white hot searing pain.
          - XXXVIII -
     Jietlshaiepr climbed down the hatch an hour later, hypo in
hand.  Quickly, she raised the armored flap on Shtam's battle dress
and sent the hypo home.  "It appears your vaccine works without
affecting traits that are not lethal." she commented.
"Immunization should be complete within an hour."
     "Glad to hear ya confirm it." nodded Jones.
     "How is it going with the prisoner?"
     "e's been conditioned against interrogation.  We're setting up
a few surprises fer 'im.  A combination o' sensory deprivation an'
water torture:  we'll 'ave him dosed wi' local anesthetic 'cept for
certain parts of the body:  the top o' the foot, the side o' the
abdomen, the scalp, the back o' the knee...
     "We'll irritate these areas intermittently, every few minutes
while we keep 'im conscious with stimulants.  'e won't be able te
sleep.  I only 'ope 'e doesn't hove the plague, if he does, we've
got two days."
          - XXXIX -
     "...This is the house that Jack built...  This is the rat that
lived in the house that Jack built...  This is the cat that killed
the rat that lived in the house that Jack built...  This is the dog
that chased the cat that killed the rat that lived in the house
that Jack built...  This is the horse that chased the dog that
chased the cat that killed the rat that lived in the house that
Jack built....
     This is the cow that chased the horse that ate the cheese that
chased the cat that killed the dog that lived in the house that
Jack built...."
          - XL -
     "'e's been thinking 'at fer hours." yawned Smith.  The
telepathic trio of Smith, Jones and Jietlshaiepr lounged around the
berth containing their prisoner.
     "Well, let's try 'im on a different tack." sighed Jones.
     Jones stood, stretched himself and took a deep breath.  "I'm
gonna try something."
     He knelt by the head of the berth and opened the pirate's
mind.  "This is the dog that chased the cat that killed the rat
that lived on the ship that Jack built."
     The pirate considered the interjected thought for a moment.
"Ship...  Ship dip...  Ship fall down, go boom!..."
     Jones jaw dropped incredulously.
     "Ship fall down, go boom!?"
     A flash went off in the pirate's mind.  He struggled against
a tumbling ship to keep it aloft.  A spinning world flashed by as
the SDB hit the water.  Panic... explosive bolts... the dead bridge
crew...  the raft...  water....
          - XLI -
     "...Hello, Hello?  Is there anybody out there...?"
     The answer came back and buried itself in the prisoner's
thoughts "Commander."
     A vision wrenched itself into his mind.  The dead captain of
the SDB, lying on the broken bridge.  "Murdoc..." floated around
his head like a child's balloon.
     Another picture floated in:  a grey haired man in a captain's
uniform, he was standing in a briefing room with a crowd of SDB
pilots and captains.  The map on the holotank was Welles.  The Star
Rider's captain was just pointing out the emergency rendezvous
point at the L5 Lagrange point.
     A third picture came in, a fat balding man in a colonel's
uniform.  "McNamara..." imposed itself indignantly in the pirate's
mind, with a hint of sarcasm and scorn.
     "Ollie Sutherland..." came abruptly in.  The tone was one of
frank admiration.  He appeared in a major's uniform standing on the
top of a grav tank with a command pennant.  Male caucasian, one
point eight meters tall, blonde hair closely cropped, blue eyes
with a commanding presence that filled the memory of the prisoner.
          - XLII -
     "I'm going to try something..." muttered Jietlshaiepr, and
she knelt close to the berth.
     Slowly, she called up an image in the prisoner's mind.  A man
with whitish blonde hair.  He had whitened scars on his face and a
large one encircling his neck.  He wore an old battle jacket with
patches ripped from past enemies corpses, and carried an ancient
sub machine gun.
     The pirate was confused at first, then an image came up.  The
man stood on the hanger deck of the Star Rider, a Kinunir class
battle cruiser was suspended from the locks.  The name "Roland"
rolled about in the prisoner's consciousness like a ball bearing in
a funnel until it hit the spout.  "Roland...  Roland...  Roland...
T...  Gunner...  Roland T. Gunner..."
          - XLIII -
     Miakr called down from the bridge.  "We've got targets!"
Jietlshaiepr hit the intercom, "Where are they?"
     "About seven hundred kilometers south east.  Heading
directly west.  They ought to pass within three hundred
kilometers of us.  Looks like three of the grav artillery
platforms and a G-carrier."
     Shtam turned to Corporal Delt, "You said you saw two
G-carriers.  We just accounted for two of them."
     "They might hove recovered it." sighed Smith.
     "It sounds as though they're headed back te their island."
announced Lt. Dragoon.
     "After doing what?" mused Kfoks, "I wonder..."
     "Jietlshaiepr," began Lt. Jones, "I hove a recon robot loose
upstairs, observing the mercs.  If we could get an antenna above
the surface we could find out exactly whot they been up to."
          - XLIV -
     "...cord.  Understand?  DAMMIT!  Are you recording this!?"
     The mechanical voice of the recon robot replied,
"Affirmative."
     Crulley's voice came back, tense and worried, "Oh...  Dr.
Jones?...  Able Spacehand Crulley 'ere... Uh...  We got big
trouble...  The mercs killed a dozen hostages... massacred an
entire town... They threaten more unless we surrender...
     They showed up in the capital wi' their tanks... dropped off
some 'ostages..." Crulley swallowed, "They gunned 'em down.  They
came over on loudspeakers that unless we surrender they'll start
destroyin' the towns one by one.
     "The people are ta hand us over ta 'em or be destroyed...
They demanded us by name...  If the natives don't hand us over ta
them, they'll destroy the towns...
     "A mob came after me...  I escaped, but that goddam robot of
yours fired on 'em...  I can't get it ta follow my orders
right...  It saw them trying ta attack and opened fire...  I
don't know how many it killed...  We had ta get out of there...
     "Right now, I'm aboard the Pasadena, the big grav ironclad.
Lucky, not everyone's lost their 'eads.  But, the Welles Navy
plans ta attack the mercs.  Unless, we'll help 'em, they'll hove
ta try handin' us over.
     "The recon robot should be able ta keep track o' where the
Pasadena is...  I 'ope...  I'm sending it ta find you.  I think
it understands my orders.
     "All right, that's enough, cut it...  Do you hear?... Cut
it!...  Understand?...  STOP RECORDI!..."
          - VL -
     The plan was quickly formed.  Negotiation was not even
seriously considered except as a delaying tactic.  Surrender was
out of the question; anyone who did would undoubtedly be killed.
     By themselves, the ironclad flotilla would be wiped out.
But, a commando strike supported by the natives in their grav
ironclads might just take the mercs down a notch or two.
          - IVL -
     The interrogation of the pirate turned messy.  Lt. Jones
pulled him out of the low berth and stared into his mind.  A
search light went on over the consciousness of the man.  Facts
flowed from his mind like gelatin through the strainer of Jones
psionic probe.
     Zylath, a small planet in a large asteroid belt held their
operational base...  The Church of the Soverinity of Sol was
their recruiting office...  Their main base was on... ?  The man
himself was from... ?  They were supported by the government
of... ?  Their mission was to attack any and all shipping:
disrupt interstellar communication.  Commandeer any possible
vessel for the forces of... ?  All military vessels not
vulnerable must be harassed.  Military cargoes took priority over
civilian.  Use whatever force available to destroy that which can
not be captured.  Do not engage superior forces.  If captured use
the suicide capsule implanted in right upper molar.  If you
survive, your full memory will be restored for you, but for now
absolute security must be maintained...
          - IIIL -
     Tuerz walked dejectedly into the crew lounge carrying the
black instrument case.  "I couldn't get any more out of him than
you did."
     "Our friends're quite paranoid." sighed Smith.  "Memory
wipe's rather dangerous stuff te play wi'."
     Lt. Jones noticed a wet hairy rag in Tuerz hand as he played
with it.  It was an exceedingly familiar color.  "Is 'e still
alive."
     "Barely, though I don't think we'll get any more from him.
May as well kill him." Tuerz sighed and held up the lump of hair.
"Well, at least he wasn't bald."
     Jietlshaiepr blanched, "All right, Tuerz.  Get rid of him
quickly."
     "Flush 'im." agreed Lt. Jones.
     Tuerz nodded, "Well, Ok.  But I won't enjoy it."
          - IIL -
     A skeleton crew was left on the Flamboyant.  The rest piled
into the Gig and made for rendezvous with the Welles flotilla.
It was one of the strangest sights seen by man.  Four ironclads
steaming majestically through the air exuding black oily smoke
from their stacks.
     "We have a better grade of coal aboard:  low sulfur content,
but we are saving it for the attack.  For now we shall have to
tolerate the smoke." Captain Colorado of the Pasadena pointed
out.  Nepotism aside, he was a capable officer despite his noble
position:  heir to the first officership of the Prague.  The
actual hereditary first officer, his mother was admiral of the
fleet.  Yet Admiral Colorado was quite old so her son truly
commanded the fleet.
     "She's a fine ship." nodded Jietlshaiepr.  "What's her flank
speed?"
     "Forty three kilometers per hour airspeed.  The smaller
ships can make about fifty eight."
     "We'd better come in on the windward side o' their base."
advised Jones.
     "Agreed." nodded Captain Colorado.  "I've been over our
charts and set course such that we should arrive on target at
dawn tomorrow.  We'll sweep in with the wind, and try to catch
them with their defenses down."
     "If I can get some of my team inside one of their tanks,"
thought Jietlshaiepr, "they'll have plenty to keep them
occupied."
     "How do you propose to do that?" asked Colorado
disbelievingly.
     "I am a noble of the Zhodani Consulate.  I can teleport with
ease.  The Droyne crew have a much better clairvoyant than I am.
They will give us a view of the target and we teleport inside."
     "Can you handle that machine?" Colorado asked.
     "Lt. Gresha has operated similar tanks, I will carry her
along with me.  We can run it, but we'll need help."
     Smith interjected, "That's where I come in.  Those aren't
really tanks so much as mobile artillery pieces:  'eavy weapons
wi' a powerful computer te back it up."
     "And te operate the guns there's the Droyne gunner from the
Kivas, Heet Kiv.  It's a teleport as well." added Jones. "I'll be
going in wi' my security robot, Corporal Delt, Miakr and the
robot dog Vole.  We'll attack the transport ships wi' demolition
packs.  Thot way, we can insure none'll escape before
reinforcements arrive from the League o' Suns."
     Captain Colorado looked Jones in the eye, "I'd be happy if
they just left.  As long as they're off my planet."
     "They'd come back." Smith pointed out.
     "Possibly, but not till we'd had a chance to prepare."
     "We must prevent 'em from striking another planet li' this
one." urged Jones.
     "That won't bring back our dead, nor will it stop them from
burning our towns to ashes."
     "No." admitted Jietlshaiepr, "But, it might prevent the
horror from striking another world.  It may well stop another
holocaust."
          - IL -
     Dawn.
     Red sky in the morning,
     Sailor take warning.
     The ironclad flotilla cruised in low skimming the waves as
they raced out of the sun to the island in tight formation.  Sand
spread over bright red painted decks to keep them from getting
slippery with blood.  Sunrise glinting off gunmetal six pounders.
Grape shot and round shot standing by.  Artillery rockets set up
in the crow's nest.  Gatling guns polished to an oily shine.  Rum
ration quickly drunk.  Welles Navy battle ensign flapping in the
wind.  Signal flags:  "Welles expects everyone to their duty."
          - L -
     The flotilla scattered as it soared over the beaches.  Only
an unnamed mountain stood between the ironclads and their target
as the strike force jumped in grav belts.  Jietlshaiepr relaxed
to save her strength; she'd every ounce soon enough.
     The Droyne felt out with the combined strength of their
minds.  Yes, the tanks lay unmanned; unmanned and unpowered.  The
image burned in Jietlshaiepr.  And in Smith.  And in the Droyne
Warrior, Heet Kiv.
     They were there.  Jietlshaiepr puffed with the exertion and
distance as she and Gresha came into existence inside the grav
tank.
     "Vargr!  What a ride!" breathed Gresha.  Immediately, she
scanned the controls of the mobile artillery piece.  Heavy
weapons, heavy power needs, heavy weight.  "Find me a checklist.
Fast!"  She began to guess her way through the starting
procedure.  Can't give the thing a walk around, but they must
keep it ready for action...  Fusion plant starting sequence...
Starting batteries...  Fuel flow...  Magnetic bottle...
Grrracht!  Where's the vacuum pumps?!
     "GaaaerrrrrrrRRRRR!"  Capacitors discharged, pumps surged
deuterium flowed, a spark began to glow in the belly of the
monster.
     "There, now we've power to close the damn door!" she panted.
"Now, all we can do is wait for full power."
     The view screens looked outside.  Bored sentries stood
outside.  None looked more than half awake in the fingers of
dawn.
     Slowly, a group walked out of a large barracks.  Four
comrades walked side by side towards the lead grav tank.  A man
and a woman flanked by two men.  The man in the center:  1.85
meters tall, fair skin, short cropped blonde hair.
     Smith zoomed the screen in on his face.
     "Major Ollie Sutherland..."
     The crew walked over to their grav tank and embarked.
     A second crew began walking to the other grav tank.
     The hull of the lead tank shut itself.
     From the same barracks, two men walked out and turned to
face the barracks door waiting.
     "How's our power?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
     "Thirty six megawatts and rising...  We'll need about fifty
two to get aloft...  Thirty seven megawatts...  about forty
seconds, four minutes after that we'll have full power."
     One more figure came out of the barracks an joined the other
two.  The three men stood together, talking and yawning in the
early light.  A fourth came shaking a sleepy head.  They walked
toward the last grav tank:  theirs.
     Smith glared into the tank commander's mind:  "I've
forgotten something..."
     He hesitated and started back.  He got halfway back before
he turned around again.  He ran to catch up when the one leading
the group fell flat on his face.  Smith stifled a laugh as he
found his shoe laces tied together.  A bored sentry laughed and
walked over to help him.
     Smith sat silent.
     Slowly, unnoticed, but sure and deadly, the pin worked out
of one of the sentries grenades.
     The sentry and two of the tank crew shattered in a red
cloud.  The explosion echoed over the base.
     "Wake them, ought to." chirped Heet.
     One echo suddenly came louder than the others, the burst of
a six pound load of grape shot as the first of the ironclads came
in range.  They came flying over the northern foot hills of the
nameless mountain.  They'd broken formation and were attacking at
will.  The Weehawken came first, flying low followed by the
Bismark on the Weehawken's port side.  To starboard drove the
Laramie while the Pasadena fell behind with her inferior speed.
     Suddenly, the lead grav tank lifted off and moved away from
the camp.
     "We've got flying power!" called Gresha.
     "Keep it on the ground." snapped Smith.  "We'll play dead
until we've got full power."
     Ollie Sutherland's grav tank began belching six centimeter
shells from it's twin auto cannon.  The G-carrier lifted off and
opened up with a five megawatt laser.  Suddenly, the Pasadena was
on fire.  The port bow gouted flame as iron plate melted and wood
ignited.
     The guns were not silenced as the Pasadena took on a list to
starboard.  The starboard six pounder spoke in defiance and the
gatling guns sniped at the mercenaries as they ran for cover.
     A six pound shell burst on the G-carrier's side sending it
spinning.  The armor plate cracked under the force of the blast
opening the hull like a walnut.  Inside, the two crew looked out
the gaping hole in surprise before they regained control of the
spinning troop carrier.
     An Air/Raft came whizzing in to intercept the Weehawken,
death spat from a VRF gauss gun as the raft strafed the ironclad.
     Suddenly, the air thudded loudly with the sound of a
charging heavy plasma gun.  A shriek as it fired, blazing out in
a deadly bolt which struck the Pasadena in the casemate.
     The Pasadena shattered in a blinding flash as plasma found
the magazine.
          - LI -
     Niedrsha gripped the PGMP-14 tightly, and swooped up from
tree top flight to intercept the G-carrier as it came out of its
spin.  Drert pulled up sharply to follow carrying a FGMP-14.
     The G-carrier was just turning to bear on the Laramie when
the plasma gun blazed.  A bolt of ionized plasma seared through
the aft end of the G-carrier throwing molten armor plate into the
air.  An explosion rang from inside and flame blazed out of the
hole the six pounder had gouged.  A moment later it began to fall
like a brick.  It plowed a deep path through a glen before
burying itself and exploding.
     Suddenly, Niedrsha's battle dress sensors went wild.
     The near miss indicator screamed about flying metal.  He
jerked his head to look as VRF gauss needles ripped his chest
open.
          - LII -
     Shtam and Kfoks peeled off after the Air/Raft closely
followed by Tuerz.  Shtam's gauss rifle cracked 4mm death at the
crew.  The gunner at the VRF gauss gun suddenly went into an
epileptic seizure as his body shook under the repeated impacts of
supersonic gauss needles.
     The driver slumped when half his head exploded under the
storm of X-rays from Tuerz laser pistol.
     The radio channel to Niedrsha and Drert was dead.
          - LIII -
     Lt. Jones, Miakr, Vole, Corporal Delt, and the security
robot flew in towards the transports just above the trees.  They
on a different attack course from the others so they would not
attract too much unwanted attention.
     Jones watched over his shoulder as Major Ollie's tank lined
up on the now blazing Weehawken.  The air shuddered as the heavy
gun prepared to fire.  A thousand devils screamed as it poured
its hell plasma onto the ironclad.  A cloud blazed as the ship
disintegrated.
     "Corporal Delt!" shouted Jones, "Halt!  Stand guard over me.
The rest of you, get the charges planted!"
     Jones went to the ground and stared at the menacing tank as
it lined up to fire on the Bismark.  He wrapped his mind around
one of his demolition charges.  Under his determined guidance, it
lifted into the air and flew towards the tank.  His grip weakened
as it lengthened.  He struggled to keep it aloft.
     The air began to shudder again announcing the devil fire
when the magnetic charge attached itself with a loud click.
Inside, did they wonder what had hit them?
     Jones flicked the detonator.
     The grav tank was enveloped in smoke and flame.  Can the
charge punch a hole in that armor?
     As the smoke cleared, the tank began to wobble.  The whine
of tortured machinery sounded across the island just audible
under the cannon fire.
     The crew cockpit was smashed open like a ripped can.  Armor
plates buckled around a gaping hole.  The tank listed to
starboard and plowed through the island growths before it ground
itself to a stop.
     Jones and Delt lit off to investigate.
          - LIV -
     Niedrsha stood in amazement.
     The armored body lying before him made no sense.
     Lying on the ground was half a figure in Zhodani battle
dress.  In it's arms was a PGMP-14 apparently undamaged.  On the
left shoulder was written 'Niedrsha'.
     He glanced at himself in confusion.  What am I doing lying
over there dead?  Suddenly, something clawed at him.  The weapon
in his hand...
     was a fusion gun...?
     I was carrying a plasma gun and Drert had a fusion gun...
This one!
     He looked at his left shoulder patch:  'Drert'.
     With rising dread he pushed the emergency release on the
dead body's helmet.  It split into the two clamshell halves
revealing Drert's face.
          - LV -
     "We've got full power!" shouted Gresha.
     "Take off!" shouted Smith, as Jietlshaiepr sat in grief and
confusion.  "Get us out of the blast region!  We're gonna smear
that tank over the horizon."
     The last grav tank lay rounded, still unable to get power
up.  A six pound shell smacked into the side of the tank and
bounced harmlessly off the heavy armor plateing.
     "Those grreeches idiots are shooting at us!" growled Gresha.
She glanced at Jietlshaiepr as she sat frozen at the controls.
     Not quite frozen.  The air began booming as the heavy gun
stewed it's plasma blast.
     Jietlshaiepr triggered the gun and sent the helpless grav
tank to oblivion.
          - LVI -
     Lt. Dragoon, Able Spacehand Turner, and Private Walker
soared in towards the mercenary command center.  Dragoon's laser
rifle spewed visible wavelength photons wildly as she bore in on
the target singlemindedly.  Figures in combat armor saw the three
Valkyries blazing death at them and returned fire with light
assault guns.
     Flechettes cascaded off the trio's armor.  They weren't
expecting armored targets...
     Walker's PGMP-12 blazed once rending limbs from two
different defenders.
     "Look out!" screamed Turner, "Warbots:  four o'clock!"
     Three medium Zhodani warbots, PPO series, came in at them
blazing light from laser rifles.
     Walker glowed red for a moment and slumped.  Her grav belt
continued to carry her over the base.
     Turner dove for cover among the base buildings with a warbot
on her tail.  Dragoon blazed laser light of her own at the
warbots.
          - LVII -
     Miakr was just approaching the transports when the warbot
cry went up.  "It's a blasted good thing I..." he muttered and
flipped on the high powered transmitter he'd mounted on his belt.
He could only guess as to the frequencies used by the robots, and
Zhodani warbot security was tough.  Still there was a chance...
          - LVIII -
     Lt. Jones and Corporal Delt leapfrogged over to the crash
site.  The tank lay on its belly, leaning on its starboard side.
The main gun hung dead on its goose neck with the shredded
command pennant hanging by a thread.  The cockpit had been
cracked and torn open by the blast.  Delt covered Jones as he
leaped inside with his SMG at the ready.
     Jones refolded the SMG into a small featureless box and
attached it to his belt:  no threats here.  Four bodies lay in
the couches.  One of the three gunners were more or less intact.
One's head and right shoulder were missing.  The driver at first
looked merely surprised.  She sat slumped at the controls wide
eyed and blank faced, but a steel rod had run straight through
her head.
     Ollie Sutherland was slumped at the controls for the main
gun.  There was blood on his uniform and couch, but very little
on him.
     He was deeply unconscious.  Jones quickly went over him and
found... nothing?  Jones took a step back and came to the
realization that his patient, while spattered in his own
(obviously fresh) blood, was perfectly healthy.
     Jones slipped a tranquilizer into his blood stream.  Well,
if he's Ok, let's keep him.
     He told Corporal Delt to stand guard over the prisoner and
flew off to the fray.
          - LIX -
     The warbots froze and hovered.  Only one was left near
Dragoon, the others had been harrying the ironclads.
     Dragoon looked at Walker and Turner through the pain of the
laser burns on her waist and left thigh.  Walker was still alive
at least.  Turner's combat armor was far too grotesquely melted
for that diagnosis.
     She turned on the command center.  A figure in combat armor
crouched behind the doorway with a light assault gun.  There was
a sudden flash in the door as Dragoon's laser illuminated it.
     A round of high explosive blazed from a window and exploded
meters from her.
     She paused to consider how best to send the defenders to
hell, when an Air/Raft swooped in with Tuerz at the controls.
Shtam sent burst after burst of VRF gauss needles into the
building while Kfoks and a confused looking figure in Drert's
battle dress held their fire:  fusion guns would demolish the
entire command building.
     Suddenly, the figure in the door held his hand to his ear,
stood at attention, saluted, and fell woodenly.
     "'at's it!" came Jones's voice, "Their checking out!"
     Dragoon charged in.
          - LX -
     Dragoon managed to kill one of the defenders before the
poison had completely finished him off.  She kicked the door to
the commander's office open.  Nobody home?
     The camera system on her combat armor picked up the bomb.
     Lt. Jones only got a glimpse of it through the relay before
Dragoon dived through a window and flew off shouting.
     "Everybody get clear!" he called with authority over the
radio as he came barrelling in.  He guessed it was only a kiloton
but that was enough.
     Jietlshaiepr's commanding voice came over the circuit.
"Stuzzel, get that Gig in here.  Miakr, drop the charges and get
on the Gig.  Tuerz, take Turner on board the Air/Raft and get on
the Gig.  We'll take Walker in the tank.  Delt, carry the
prisoner to the Gig.  Kfoks, warn the Laramie.  Niedrsha?"
     "Yeah, I'm here, I guess..." came a bewildered voice.
     Her voice softened, "You warn the Bismark.  Just tell them
to get clear of the island as fast as they can.  Ok?"
     "I... got it." he answered.
     Jones swooped into the control building.
     The rest swooped off to obey orders.
          - LXI -
     Surgeon Lt. Jones sweated over the operation.  The patient was
a very delicate one and exploratory surgery was dangerous for
patient and surgeon alike.  Three digit numbers clicked by as he
worked.  One zero four...  I'd never make it if I left now...
     Contrary to popular fiction, when facing danger, one's life
does not pass before ones eyes, one just keeps working up until the
bomb explodes or the vehicle crashes or death in whatever of its
myriad forms hands you your bill and will only take cash.
     Zero six three...  Jones was oblivious to all save the
detonator and its attendant systems.  He didn't even notice
Jietlshaiepr's hands on his shoulders as she prepared herself to
teleport them both out.
     Zero two six...  Jietlshaiepr monitored her troop as they
submerged at extreme range, at least Niedrsha would be safe...  If
it was Niedrsha...?
     Zero one four...  She began to muster the last of her psionic
strength...
     Zero zero nine...  Could she teleport them both far enough?
     Zero zero eight...  She had too...
     Zero zero seven...  Pop!  Jones shivered.
     Zero zero seven...  Jones collapsed in mirth.
     Applause sounded behind them.  Jietlshaiepr dove over the
office desk and whirled around with her gauss pistol aimed at the
unknown audience.
     A blank videoscreen was activated on the other side of the
office.  Its camera was facing them as the screen's speaker sounded
the applause.
     "Very good!  Very good!" called a saccharine voice.  Jones
recognized the leader's voice from the mind probe of the pirate.
He exchanged glances with Jietlshaiepr.
     "Glad ya enjoyed it Colonel McNamara." he responded
cheerily.
     "Oh, I did very much Lieutenant... Jones isn't it?" responded
the disembodied sweet malevolence, "What do you do for an encore?"
     "We win." stated Jietlshaiepr simply.
     "Now this IS unusual isn't it?" came the voice with an audible
smirk.  "Zhodani teleport commandoes working with the League of
Suns Naval Intelligence?  Not something you see every day..."
     "No, just every other Thursday." smiled Jones as he began
ransacking the desks and gathering up papers and computer disks.
     "Or when we find a common enemy." added Jietlshaiepr.
     "Me?  Common?" laughed McNamara, "Anyway I suggest you consult
the nearest Consular embassy to find out who the enemy is."
     "You DESTROYED the Consulate embassy on this planet." she
reminded him icily.
     Jones turned and walked out carrying the documents he'd
gathered.
     "Listen." whispered the speaker, "You've just destroyed a
Consular backed secret project.  The League spy just walked out of
that office with enough evidence to link the Consulate to this
operation.  You must kill the spies before they find out and
destroy that evidence, else we are all doomed."
     "Prove it."
     "I can't.  But their sure to try to sabotage your ship.  Kill
them before they kill you.  We'll take their bodies and allow your
ship to escape.  Now, move!  An SDB is on the way to raze that base
in twenty four minutes.  And what ever you do, don't let the
transport ships be damaged!"
          - LXII -
     Miakr started picking up scrambled communications as they
approached in the Gig.  He and Shtam began struggling with the
computer coding systems.
     At last McNamara's voice came out "...out three thousand
credits?  Would that disturb your memory sufficiently?"
     Lt. Jones voice answered, "If yer goin' to insult our
loyalties, ya might at least make it an interestin' insult."
     "Four thousand...  How much do Lieutenants and Ensigns make in
the Navy eh?"
     "More 'an that." answered Smith.
     "All right, seven thousand."
     "Yer not even in the right order o' magnitude." declared Jones
boredly.
     "All right.  Name it then.  Name your own price."
     One could hear Jones smile, "Oh, at least...  twenty
thousand."
     "Done.  But for that much I..."
     "That's twenty thousand fer each of us." amended Smith.
     ...Pause...
     "Very well.  But for that much, I want no one to have heard of
this, including your Zhodani friends."
     "Who said they were our friends?" asked Smith.
     "In addition to your report being... incomplete, I want all
the documents you took returned, any prisoners released, the two
transport ships untouched, AND you must destroy the Zhodani ship."
     "Dragoon would enjoy that." commented Smith.
     "I think that might cost ya something extra." cautioned Jones.
     "Oh? and may I remind you of the captives my men have taken?
What is the count?...  Oh yes... Two thousand six hundred and fifty
one captives, young women between the ages of eleven and twenty
four.  Surely, you don't want them burned down with the island do
you?"
     "'old on a moment." said Jones.
     A radio detonator sat waiting boredly.  Suddenly, it heard its
call to destiny.
     The fuel tanks of the two transport ships wired up by Miakr
and Vole ruptured spilling compressed liquid hydrogen over the
cargo decks and vaporized instantly.  Pressure swelled momentarily
inside the ships then a second charge ignited the inflammable mix
of hydrogen and oxygen.  Both ships became bombs which leaped
skyward scattering the hulls to the winds.
     "NOW it's a deal." confirmed Jones.
     "Not really, you've just lost your biggest bargaining chip,
and my patience."
          - LXIII -
     They quickly got the transmitter's range and bearing.  It lay
on the surface of the water twenty nine kilometers away and
running.  Radar could just barely make out the exposed dorsal
section of a scout ship.
     They took off in the Gig in pursuit, but the ship submerged.
They flew over the prisoners quarters where the mercenaries
captives sat.  They would have to wait evacuation, the Gig was
overcrowded before, now it was doubly so with the unconscious Major
Ollie Sutherland, and the four warbots Miakr had taken control of.
Neither of the two surviving ironclads could carry passengers.
Surely, not even the pirates would...
          - LXIV -
     They monitored the bombardment of the island from the
Flamboyant.  It lasted four hours.  Nothing could have survived.
The SDB was joined in it's mission by the Fanzheinz class trader.
The island was leveled.
     Two thousand, six hundred and fifty one...
          - LXV -
     The League of Suns party was meekly disarmed and under guard.
Smith worked on setting Sutherland up for interrogation.  Jones and
Jietlshaiepr got to work treating the wounded.
     Lt. Dragoon was only lightly wounded.  A laser had seared away
the armor on her abdomen leaving third degree burns.  There was a
similar burn on her left thigh.
     Pvt. Walker was more seriously hurt.  A section of her left
arm had been literally burned away.  A first rate hospital would
probably have removed the remains of arm and started regeneration
techniques.  The Flamboyant had good facilities but nothing that
could start a treatments like that.
     "We'll just have to try the old fashioned way." mumbled
Jietlshaiepr.
     Turner was dead, but her body could be used.  Jones didn't
bother giving it a second thought.  "Right, take what ya need if
the tissue type's compatible.  I may need some tissue myself fer
skin grafting."
     They got to work.  Dragoon insisted on a local anesthetic to
watch Jones.  She also insisted that the burn on her abdomen be
left ungrafted:  she liked the pattern.
     Slowly, Jietlshaiepr rebuilt Walker's arm.  The entire left
biceps was gone as was brachial artery and a good section of nerve,
but Turner's tissue type proved compatible.  Bone grafting proved
unnecessary as the humerus was intact.  When it was over,
Jietlshaiepr and Jones collapsed.
          - LXVI -
     Jietlshaiepr staggered through the door to her darkened
stateroom.  Niedrsha sat on the side of the bed staring at his
hands.  She watched him closely for a moment.  He was a full
eighteen centimeters taller than before...  His face was...
changing... It looked as though someone had grafted his head onto
Drert's body. She stepped quietly to him and took his hand.  His
hands were larger... the veins and tendons less distinct... maybe
a bit more hair on the back.  What about the rest of him?...  What
about his mind?
     Niedrsha was totally drained:  as though some one had switched
off all the emotions in his brain with the casual attitude of
flicking a light switch.  He stared down at his hands not wanting
to meet her eyes.
     Finally, it was he who broke the silence.  "I pulled Drert out
of the armor.  He's ready for burial..."
     "I'm sorry." was all she could manage.
     "I got a good look at 'em when I pulled the armor off." He
looked up with scared eyes.  "It's *My* body that's... dead.  But
I'm here...  This is his...  I'm... him?"
     She sat next to him and pulled his head to her shoulder.  She
looked closely at him.  He was right.  All the subtle unique things
about his body had changed...  More heavily muscled...  Slightly
more hirsute...  but it was Niedrsha's head that leaned on her
shoulder.
     Slowly, through the fog, he realized she was shaking.
     He shifted and held her closely, she continued to shake.
Dimly, he realized his shoulder was growing wet.
     "What...?"
     "Everyone...  Dead.  Drert...  Turner...  Crulley...  The
Pasadena...  The Weehawken...  The Shoolist...  Two thousand
girls... Two *thousand*!..." Her voice dropped, "Never mind the
three million they killed with their virus..."
     She looked him in the eye with tears on her face.  "And...
I... nearly lost... *You*..."
     She drew a half sobbed breath, "Are you really Niedrsha?"
     She clung tightly to him as she sobbed herself to sleep.  What
seemed hours later, Niedrsha numbly realized he was on the verge of
unconsciousness from fatigue.  "Hmmm.  I'm exhausted.  I suppose I
should sleep."  He fell asleep with Jiet's question rattling around
in his (or was it Drert's?) brain.
          - LXVII -
     Slowly, they brought Major Ollie Sutherland to consciousness.
Jones read his mind as he came back inside the sensory deprivation
chamber.
     Anger...  Aggression...  Hate...  Kill...  seeped from the
semiconscious mind as it rose toward full consciousness.  Suddenly,
all went blank.  Ollie had put up a psi shield.
     "Well, it explains 'is lack of wounds." sighed Jones, "'e must
be able te regenerate 'imself psionically."
     "Ok." nodded Jietlshaiepr, "He's psionic.  Well, he's not a
teleport, or he'd not be here.  The question is, does he know any
other psionic disciplines?"
          - LXVIII -
     An hour later, Vole reported that Ollie's shield was down.
Jones read his mind.  A picture came through, a picture of the
inside of the Gig where he was standing.
     "All right he's clairvoyant." nodded Smith.  "That'll ruin our
sensory deprivation work."
     Jones shook his head.  "Not necessarily.  Might take longer,
bu' surely the deprivation'll wear 'im down regardless."
          - LXIX -
     A neural activity sensor was left pointed at Ollie.  The
moment he lowered his shield and showed on the detector, a telepath
was there to read his mind.  Jietlshaiepr, Smith and Jones worked
in four hour shifts.  Every three or four hours the neural activity
sensor went off.  A picture began to emerge:  the Gig...  the
ship...  the bridge... the engine room...  the hold...  the
turrets...  the Vipers in their bays...
     It was then that Lt. Jones suggested putting a guard on the
fighter bays.
          - LXX -
     It was near the end of Ens. Smith's watch when the sensor went
off again.  Stuzzel looked over at her boredly.  He was guarding
her.  The Flamboyant crew hadn't totally believed that Smith and
Jones had been trying to fool whoever had been on the other side of
the radio conversation.  She looked into a mind that was full of
anger and hate and was gripping someone by the throat.
     Suddenly, her consciousness was fading.  She reeled over into
the chair she'd just stood up from.  Stuzzel dropped his ACR and
clutched his own throat.
     As she lost conciousness, she saw the low berth open of its
own accord and Major Ollie Sutherland step out.
          - LXXI -
     Miakr was bored.  He'd been standing in the corridor outside
the lower fighter bay for five hours and was *bored*.  One of the
captured warbots could do the job very easily if he could readjust
the command recognition programming and the recognition program...
fairly easy stuff but it tends to take ones whole attentio...
     An iris valve opened.  Ah, company...
     ACR slugs caught him as he turned.  The gauss pistol spat in
reply but shock and pain spoiled his aim as he fell to the deck.
     Alarms began to blare.  A minute later, Lt. Jones was leaning
over him examining the wounds as Shtam went for the fighter bay
hatch.  Already one could hear the bay flooding with water as the
fighter was prepared for release.
     Shtam punched the intercom.  "He's escaping in Viper number
two.  Kfoks, launch in number one immediately.  We've got to get
the Flamboyant powered up and ready for anything.  All hands:
battle stations."  He turned and ran to his engines.
          - LXXII -
     Kfoks ran his fingers over the Viper's console.  "Bridge, give
me emergency starting power!"  The power lines surged with the
power necessary for a powered kindle fire in the fighter's fusion
plant.  Quickly, the plant reached threshold and Kfoks hit the
starter.  "Lucky he took Stuzzel's Viper, Tuerz always keeps his
ship preflighted for emergencies.  Bless his minescule, paranoid,
psychopathic heart!"
     The cables dropped automatically as Kfoks called for release.
Water poured in over the Viper and the upper hatch opened.  Slowly,
the Viper rose from the bay into the black waters.  The tiny
fighter was blind.  None of her sensors worked underwater unless
you counted landing lights as sensors.
     "Well, I can't talk to the Flamboyant for directions, but he
wouldn't be sticking around down here anyway..."
     He pushed for full power and began to rise slowly as the power
plant rose to meet the demand.  By the time the plant was at
capacity, he could see the surface of the ocean overhead.  He burst
from the water like a flying fish and sparkled in the sun.  The
Viper opened her eyes.
     "Tally ho!" The sensors picked out the fleeing target.
Bearing:  nine six degrees.  Speed:  One point oh five kilometers
per second.  Range:  Fifty two kilometers.
     Quickly, Kfoks line up his target lock on radar.  Incoming
radar pulses on me!...  He flipped on the EMS jammer and threw the
Viper into a series of spiralling zig zags away from the
illuminating radar.  Quickly he was free from the searchlight and
returned his concentration to pursuit and attack.
     Radar lock...  now...  Ladar...  Missile away!...
     The missile blazed in on the fleeing target which dipped and
screamed off wildly dodging to the south and then nose down and
went for the deck.  The missile sped past close but missed.  The
enemy Viper rolled over and resumed its flight.
     The radio squawked, "Any ships in orbit, this is Major
Sutherland.  I've escaped from the enemy vessel, requesting
assistance.  Over."
     "Roger, Major we're reading you.  What do you need?  Over."
     Kfoks kicked on the radio jammer and lined up on target.  A
second missile sped away on course to the fleeing Viper.  With the
radio jammer on he was screaming his location, but if that bastard
managed to call in fire from orbit...
     Sutherland dodged and pulled up sharply into the clouds.  The
missile sped after him.
     Kfoks watched the clouds as he flew towards them and waited.
No sign of impact.  On radar the targets converged.  Kfoks fired
his third missile as he blazed toward the targets.
     The second missile blazed by the twisting craft.  Then
Sutherland spun her around to bear on Kfoks.
     The laser sensor horn blared.  Damn, Ollie had a good lock on
him.  A piercing sound went through Kfoks ears:  Enemy missile
launch.
     He rolled the controls into a twisting turn that fought the
inertial compensators.  The Viper responded like a thing alive
while the missile homed in on him.
     Kfoks cut the jammers and put the Viper on its tail, climbing
straight up at a kilometer a second.  He threw it into a corkscrew
that sent the missile off.  It flew by fifty meters from the
twisting fighter.
     Kfoks flipped his charger back toward his adversary.  Radar
sweep negative.  Vrassssh!  Have I lost him?  He spun back on
Ollie's previous bearing:  niner six.
     He peeled back the Viper's eye lids and checked the sky.
Nothing...  Nothing...  Nothing...  Nothing...
     A smudge...?  A faint trace ran across the radar screen.  IR
made it out as about three thousand degrees...  Falling fast...
     Finally, the wreckage fell into the sea.
          - LXXIII -
     Kfoks met Tuerz on his way back.  Tuerz had taken the Gig off
in pursuit shortly after Kfoks but had been left behind by the
airfoil streamlining of the Vipers and the slow power build up of
the larger power plant.
     "Are you sure you got the bastard?  Over."
     "Negative, I didn't see it hit, but I picked up what looked
like falling wreckage.  Couldn't have survived if I hit him.
Over."
     "You'd better have!  He's killed Stuzzel!  His throat's been
crushed!"
          - LXXIV -
     Sensor readings by the Flamboyant were more definite.  The
target had been hit.  They were also certain that the two SDBs and
Fanzheinz class trader were positioning themselves in orbit over
the Flamboyant just inside laser range.
     Then they picked it up.  On the other side of Welles a fusion
plant was climbing to full power; the scout ship they'd spotted on
the surface was lifting off.
     At Smith's suggestion they went over every system of the ship.
Ollie was a clairvoyant telekinetic and had had access to every
part of the ship.  God knows what mischief he might have left
behind.
          - LXXV -
     Jietlshaiepr came to the lounge still in her bathrobe.  The
escape had started during her off watch.  Shtam made his report
first.  The main circuit breakers to the laser batteries had been
pulled.  Hap hazard sabotage, but enough to silence the lasers and
easy enough for the weak strength of low power telekinesis.
     Gresha had uncovered much nastier stuff.  One of the missile
tube indicator lights had been shorted along with the outer door.
If they had opened the tube to reload, the ship would have been
flooded.
     Ens. Smith had rapidly recovered from being throttled, but
Stuzzel's larynx had been crushed.  Miakr had taken two slugs in
the chest which Lt. Jones and Vole were removing at the moment.
     "All in all it could have been much worse." admitted
Jietlshaiepr, "Poor Stuzzel, what a bastard..."
          - LXXVI -
     Gresha looked up from the sensors.  "I was right Jiet." her
tail wagged with pride, "They're headed out.  All four ships
proceeding to jump point at one G acceleration."
     Jietlshaiepr put her arm around Gresha's shoulders and gazed
into the sensor read out.  "Zhdantva!" she breathed, "It's over!"
     The pirate flotilla docked with the SDBs at jump point.  The
SDB power plants throttled back to minimum and were lost on their
cometary courses.  Then the two starships jumped.
          - LXXVII -
     The Flamboyant made a brief appearance at Welles Starport.
Captain Billy the third, aged fourteen or fifteen, gave the crew
faint praise for their efforts.  It seemed that the Laramie and the
Bismark had already reported the outcome of the battle.  The
planetary ruler didn't seem to care overly much who had won the
battle, just as long as he didn't have to worry about it.
     Now that Fleet Admiral Colorado had died aboard the Pasadena,
the Captain had lost his regent.  The next in line was the
hereditary Fourth Officer of the Warsaw, Commander Loren
Farnsworthy, captain of the Bismark.
     Fortunately, Commander Farnsworthy was far more capable than
the hereditary Captain.  She would see to the reconstruction of the
planet, and promised Jietlshaiepr that The League of Suns was not
the only place help would be appealed to.  The Zhodani Consulate
Embassy would be appealed to.  The Droyne crew would stay as
unofficial Consular representatives while awaiting the return of
the Chekbas.  They were, after all, Consular citizens, and the
Droyne cruiser would carry the formal request for aid to the sector
capitol at Massina.
     The League of Suns, however, was much closer and could render
aid more swiftly and would be very interested in strengthening its
borders.  Still, Farnsworthy did not seem to be one to let her
planet be annexed by friend or foe (all the better for the distant
Consulate.)
     The captured grav tank was handed over to the locals as a
joint gift from the League and Consulate lest their antagonists
return.  It could not be carried by the Flamboyant, though the
captured Air/Raft hardly made up for the loss of the Viper and the
VIXEN.
          - LXXVIII -
     "Well, whot's yer next move, Jietlshaiepr?" asked Lt. Jones.
     "Oh, we're going to see if anything is salvageable from the
VIXEN, if we can find it.  It was left adrift.  It may still have
some useful material aboard."
     "An' then?" prompted Ens. Smith.
     "I don't really think you need to know that." smiled
Jietlshaiepr, "Mostly I'll be glad to leave before your rescue
party can show up and detain us.  But after we leave I see no
reason for you to know where we go.
     "It has a been pleasure working with you," she continued while
shaking hands with them, "but now I must leave."
     Jones smiled.  "Till we meet again..."
     He paused and left the last words unspoken, "On Zylath..."