Kas stared incredulously at the viewer in front of him.
Curiosity had led him to open the message from the Imperial Senate first. After all, he’d never before heard of the Senate sending messages directly to Fleet personnel. On the rare occasions such contact was made, it was made through Fleet HQ and Fleet Admiral Pankin. It was unprecedented.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was summoned to appear before a session of the Imperial Senate to “explain matters directly relating to the safety and welfare of the Empire.” The date he was commanded to appear was just over a month ago. He wondered if there was a warrant out for his arrest for Contempt of the Senate.
He shook his head in disbelief, and turned his attention to the next most impressive; the one imprinted with the personal seal of the Commander In chief, Imperial Fleet. He set the viewer display to ‘screen’.
Fleet Admiral Pankin appeared, sitting behind a bare desk.
The Fleet Admiral smiled. Kas almost answered the smile with one of his own before remembering he was seeing a recording.
“Hello, Commodore,” Pankin began. “By now, you’ve been looking at this mass of electronic junk and wondering what the Sheol’s happened.
“Well, your secret mission’s no longer secret. The story of the Vir Rekesh hit the newsies about three months after you left.”
His smile turned bitter. “Of course, they played up the sensational aspects, with the emphasis on the plague. For months now, the Rekesh has been the “Ghost ship” “Imperial death ship,” and even something called the “Flying Dutchman.” It took the newsies about two minutes to decide that she was a threat to the entire Empire.”
The Admiral shrugged. “Then the news somehow leaked that we’d sent a mission to recover her. The newsies went mad.” He smiled grimly. “Of course, the Senate went mad about five minutes later, as soon as the reports hit the terminals. I’ve been before six Senate committees and before the full Senate twice. It seems they think we’re fools or villains. Or both. The Emperor has already had to personally intercede when a pack of senators demanded my head.
“I guess some staffer’s been counting heads or something, because about two months ago your name came up in connection with the Rekesh. Ever since, you have been a prominent feature of the newsies all over the Empire, and in most of the independents.
“You’ll be interested to hear that you’re some sort of madman or arch-villain. It seems they got hold of a garbled account of your little fracas with Lu-Jenks. There are several versions being bandied about, but the most popular says that after going insane and attacking your own Admiral, you escaped custody, vowing to destroy the Empire. Somehow, you learned about the Rekesh, and you gathered a gang of renegade outies to go get her, bring her back to the Empire, and travel from system to system-spreading plague. Another version has you headed for Prime with armed planetbusters. Still another has you plotting to turn an armed battle cruiser over to the Alliance. Lu-Jenks has been interviewed almost daily; and you can imagine what he’s saying about you.
“We denied it as long as possible, but finally had to admit to the Senate that there actually was an undercover mission to recover the Rekesh. That set off even more howls of outrage. Naturally, the newsies found out a few minutes after our ‘secret’ Senate briefing.
“We knew that endangered your safety, so the Emperor ordered the State Department to register Starhopper as a diplomatic auxiliary. At least you won’t be shot as spies. Moreover, there is one small bright spot. They don’t seem to have learned Starhopper ’s name — at least, not yet.”
Pankin sighed, and leaned forward. “So, that’s what’s been happening. Whether you’ve managed to salvage the Rekesh or not, you and your people are in very real, serious danger. As these plague stories spread through the independents, they are bound to grow more and more bizarre. I find myself hoping you contact an Empire embassy soon. Very soon. Once your ship’s name leaks, you may very well be attacked without warning as soon as you enter a system. And it will leak; too many people worked on it to keep the secret.”
The Fleet Admiral sighed again, and then hesitated. His face became sad. “I’m very sorry, Kas,” he continued. “I’m very sorry for what I’m being forced to do. It violates everything I hold dear. However, I have no choice.
“We’ve been spending nearly all of our time lately with senators, especially that weasel Ta-Lank, trying to make them understand the real situation. We have had some success, but I’m afraid it’s going to take quite some time for this thing to settle down and get out of the headlines. So, we have had to give in and deal with Ta-Lank and his cronies.
“I’m not proud of what I’ve had to agree to. And I am not happy to be dictating these orders. But concern for you and your people and, to be honest, the Emperor’s orders compel me.”
He straightened his expression still troubled. “A route has been planned for you to return to the Empire. It is quite roundabout, and it does not lead to Prime. The course is mostly through unclaimed space, and completely avoids inhabited systems. It terminates in an uninhabited system on the edge of the Empire.
“The Senate has agreed to appoint a medical committee. This will consist of a bunch of doctors in various medical and scientific specialties. They will review the work of Doctor Ro-Lecton and his staff. If, and only if, they agree there is absolutely no danger from the plague, you will be permitted to return to Prime.
“It was the best deal we could get. There was a lot of support for ordering you to an isolated system and just blowing you out of the sky.”
He shrugged. “If I were you, the question going through my mind right now would be, ‘well, you are ordering me to an isolated system. How do I know you’re not going to destroy me when I get there?’ Well, I am embarrassed to say that you don’t know it. All I can do is give you my word.”
Pankin sighed. “Six months ago, if someone had told me that one of my crews would feel threatened by their own Fleet, I’d have referred him for psychiatric evaluation.” The Fleet Admiral slumped in his chair, shaking his head. He suddenly looked very old.
After a moment, he raised his head, an agonized expression on his face. “These are orders, Kas. Whether or not you have the Rekesh, you are to follow your assigned course. It is going to take you awhile; I understand it involves over twenty jumps. Neither of your ships is to attempt to enter any inhabited system, and none of your people are to have any physical contact with anyone not presently aboard your ships.”
The Grand Admiral’s eyes narrowed. “I know you have a rather, uh, cavalier attitude toward orders. But please, don’t get imaginative, and don’t look for loopholes. Play this straight, Kas. We’re trying to save your lives.
“Yes, we’re wasting a lot of time on hysterical nonsense. But this is a situation where time is on our side, for a change. The longer we drag this out, the better the chances of the whole thing settling down and dropping out of the news. Once the newsies and some of our more hysterical senators calm down and move on to the next crisis, we can get back to normal. I hope.” With a sorrowful shake of his head, Pankin signed off.
Kas sat silent, staring at the empty screen. He marveled at his lack of emotion. Why wasn’t he furious? His personal reputation was being smeared all over the Empire and the independents. Despite what Pankin said, Kas knew that from now on, whenever his name was mentioned, it would bring visions of madness and plague to peoples’ minds. He winced as he realized it also meant he would never be able to put the Lu-Jenks incident behind him now.
Finally, he realized. Fleet people would know better. They wouldn’t be infected by the hysteria. And Fleet people were the only ones whose opinions mattered to him. He realized he didn’t really give a damn what groundhogs thought of him. Even billions of groundhogs.
He shrugged. Certainly, one day he would retire. So what? He could always change his name. Especially since it wasn’t really his in the first place.
He waved a hand dismissively. He had no right to sit here worrying about something as trivial as his reputation. He was responsible for the lives of more than three hundred fifty people. And most of them would not be as detached as him. They would be angry. And scared.
He keyed his intercom, and summoned To-Ling from the bridge and Ler-Traken from Starhopper. He had some decisions to make, and he would need their input.
“Well,” he said as he snapped the viewer off after playing Pankin’s message for them. “There it is. Comments and suggestions, please.”
His eyes moved from one to the other. To-Ling’s face was expressionless, stony. Ler-Traken, on the other hand, was open-mouthed in shock and dismay.
Starhopper ’s captain shook his handsome head. “I don’t believe it.”
“I do,” To-Ling put in. “We’re lucky Ta-Lank was willing to deal.”
Kas frowned. “Who is this Ta-Lank? And why does he have so much to say about it?”
To-Ling looked startled. “How could you not know Senator Ta-Lank? Besides the Emperor himself, he’s probably the most powerful man in the Empire.”
It was Kas’ turn to look surprised. “Really? I thought Grand Admiral Pankin was the next most powerful.”
She shook her head. “It’s not even a contest, sir. Pankin’s power is only military…”
“Only military?” Ler-Traken interrupted.
To-Ling looked irritated at the interruption. “Yes, only military. The Emperor could dismiss him in a microsecond, and he would have no power at all. Oh, he might be able to set off some sort of uprising in the Fleet, but I don’t doubt any insurrection he started would easily be put down.
“But Ta-Lank has real power. On second thought, I’m not too surprised you’re not familiar with the name. So many Fleet people think there’s some sort of virtue in ignoring the political realities.”
Kas flushed slightly. He had always made a point of dismissing the goings-on in the Senate as political posturing. “All right,” he grated. “Educate us.”
The small woman shrugged. “Actually,” she resumed, “Ta-Lank isn’t that well known off Prime. He is not interested in the spotlight — he’s more of a behind-the-scenes type. But he directly controls more than a third of the votes in the Senate, and through blackmail and deal making he can influence enough additional senators to make sure that anything he wants passed gets passed. And anything he doesn’t want to pass never sees the light of day. And he is utterly ruthless and conscienceless. That means that every wheeler-dealer and special interest in the Empire is willing to give him anything he wants.”
Ler-Traken was frowning. “If he’s that powerful, I’m surprised the Emperor hasn’t sent a couple of his spooks around to arrange a funeral for him.”
To-Ling shrugged again. “Rumor has it he’s tried, twice. Then Ta-Lank let him know that if anything happens to him, all the dirt and blackmail evidence he’s collected over the years will go straight to newsies all over the Empire.” She sighed. “Ta-Lank probably has dirt on enough senators to bring down the entire government. So, I understand they have a sort of armed truce.” She sighed and shook her head. “It must have cost the Emperor a lot to make this deal.”
Kas frowned. “Then you think it’s safe for us to follow orders — that we won’t be met by a battle group and blown to emm-cee squared.”
She smiled grimly. “Where Ta-Lank’s involved, there’re no guarantees, sir. However, if he’s made a deal, he will go through with it. The only thing Ta-Lank has to sell is his reputation for honoring his word and his deals.
“Besides, I don’t think Rajos IX would make a deal with Ta-Lank involving the murder of Fleet people. Ta-Lank has no honor, but the Emperor certainly does.”
Kas nodded. “I agree. And Grand Admiral Pankin would resign before giving such an order, even if he thought he could find crews willing to carry it out.”
Ler-Traken snorted. “Oh, I think he could find the crews. All he’d have to tell them is that we’re plague ships.”
Kas shrugged. “Perhaps. But I still think he’d resign before giving an order like that.”
To-Ling nodded. “I agree. Anyway, it seems we have no option but to obey our orders.”
Ler-Traken snorted again. “Wrong. There is one option that has not been mentioned. We could send Starhopper to To-Han and negotiate with the Alliance.”
To-Ling sprang to her feet. “Traitor!” she hissed. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”
“Sit down, Commander,” Kas said mildly. “Captain Ler-Traken is right. It is an alternative, and should be considered. I asked for suggestions, and it is your duty to advise me. Besides, I don’t think the Captain was advocating that course of action. Were you, Captain?”
Ler-Traken’s face split into a grin. “No, sir. However, it is an option, and needed to be discussed. And rejected.”
Kas nodded. “I agree. Even if I ordered it, I doubt we would be able to get enough of the crew to agree to even fly the Rekesh there. And we really do not want to touch off another mutiny.
“So don’t worry, Commander. We’re not going to commit treason.”
To-Ling sat back down, a puzzled expression on her face. “So, what are we going to do, sir?”
Kas shrugged. “I guess we’re going to follow our orders, Commander.”
They sent for charts, and the three pored over them.
Finally, Kas straightened and stretched. “They’re sure sending us the long way around. I think some idiot just drew an arc around man-settled space, and decided that should be our course.”
“D’you think they’ve negotiated passage, Commodore? Or are we still likely to have to fight our way through?”
Kas shook his head. “I don’t know. A lot of this course lies through unclaimed space. I’m sure they have negotiated passage through those areas that are claimed. But you will notice we go nowhere near the Glory. That means they haven’t signed onto any free passage agreements. Moreover, they aren’t the only independent without discernable morals. I wouldn’t trust Maximum Leader S’ran T’kando of Libertad as far as I could throw him.”
Ler-Traken snorted. “That wouldn’t be far. He must mass 200 kilos in a one-gee field!”
Kas shot him a quick grin. “I know. The point is that there are k'nith in this pond, and by now they know our route. Moreover, T’Kando and the Glory’s Council of Elders, among others, aren’t going to let a little thing like a plague keep them from getting their hands on a battle cruiser. A schoolchild could plot this course backward and locate this system. Sheol, a Glory battle group could be heading for this system right now.”
The two Commanders exchanged troubled glances as Kas continued. “And as you, Captain Ler-Traken, learned, we can’t expect to be met and escorted by a fully armed battle group. Therefore, we cannot relax. In fact, any time we’re in normal space, we’ll have to be at full alert. The only time we’ll be able to relax will be during Jump, when we’re supralight.”
Ler-Traken straightened. “Are we going to full alert now, Commodore? If so, I need to get back…”
His voice trailed off as Kas shook his head. “Not yet, Captain. We still have the detection buoy at the jump point. We’ll have at least two days’ warning if anyone shows up here.” He shook his head again. “No, I’d rather concentrate on getting Rekesh ready to get underway.”
He turned to To-Ling. “How long, Commander? I know the new nav comp has been installed. Have the files been downloaded?”
To-Ling nodded. “Being done as we speak, sir. We had to wait for Starhopper to get back, since her nav comp contained the data.
“The only other holdup is the AI. The tech in charge told me this morning that it should be ready to activate in a day or two — at least for testing.”
Kas frowned. “We don’t have time for fancy testing. Tell the… no, I’ll tell him. They can debug the damned thing in Jump. We’ve got to get out of here!” He paused as a thought struck him. “One other thing, Commander. I will want to talk with those civilian techs. I want to see if they can rig controls so that three or four gunners can control most or all of our weapons systems.”
To-Ling frowned. “Is that possible, Commodore? I mean, the weapons control stations are scattered throughout the ship so a few lucky hits can’t disable them all.”
Kas shrugged. “True. But we have to take the chance. And those techs’ lives are on the line, too. Sheol!” He continued, “I don’t know if it can be done. But in this case, unless we can centralize the weapons controls, we’ll only be able to use half or less of Rekesh ’s weapons.” He shrugged. “With only a tenth of a crew, we still can’t beat much of a battle group. But we can damned well let them know they’ve been in a fight!”
“May I make a suggestion, Commodore?”
Kas turned to To-Ling. Irritation tinged his tone. “Of course, Commander. That’s what we’re here for.”
She flushed slightly. “Yes, sir. Sorry. Uh, well, I was just thinking. We are so short-handed that if we are attacked by any decent-sized battle group, we’re going to lose, fancy controls or not. It would be bad enough if the Glory got their hands on the Rekesh. How about we at least get rid of those two planet-busters? Send ‘em into the sun, or something? I mean, just as a precaution.”
Kas shuddered at the mental image of a Rekesh in the hands of the Glory, launching a planet-buster at Prime. “You have a good idea there, Commander. But can we do it safely?”
To-Ling frowned. “What do you mean, sir?”
“Well,” Kas replied, “Planet-busters are matter/antimatter bombs. Pure Emm-Cee squared. Is there any chance two of them might actually be powerful enough to affect this system’s sun?”
To-ling looked troubled. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Ler-Traken snorted. “What difference does it make? It’s an uninhabited system. It doesn’t even have planets in the liquid water belt. I mean, if we toss ‘em into the sun just as we’re Jumping, it won’t matter if the damned star goes nova!”
“Good point, Captain,” Kas replied. “Commander, Get with Lieutenant Commander Raskin and start working on orbits to launch both planet-busters into the sun. And plan a schedule that won’t let them hit the photosphere until we’re nearly at the jump point.”
She winced, but nodded. Obviously, Raskin’s purposely-coarse manners bothered the innerworlder.
Kas sighed. “Well, fighting or not, we’ve got a very long trip ahead of us.”
“Very long, indeed, sir.” Ler-Traken shook his head. “It’s not going to be easy keeping morale up.” He smiled faintly. “Even mine.”
Kas grinned. “Nor mine.” the grin faded. “But you’re right,” he continued more seriously. “We already have morale problems, with the nasty cleanup and rigid discipline we’ve been enforcing.”
To-Ling shrugged. “We don’t have to tell them everything, sir. In fact, we don’t have to tell them anything.”
Kas shook his head. “I don’t work that way, Commander. Besides, I don’t think we could get away with it. “Oh, we could pretend nothing is wrong for awhile. Only the Astrogators and senior officers would have to know.
“But Fleet people aren’t stupid. Before long, crewmembers would begin to wonder why all our recal stops were in uninhabited systems and why they weren’t getting liberty. Even before that, there would be questions about why we hadn’t reprovisioned — why they still had to eat reconstituted ship’s rations. Sooner or later, probably sooner, we’d be forced to tell them.”
To-Ling frowned. “So what do we tell them, sir?”
“The truth, Commander. Almost all of it.”
“May I have your attention, please?” Kas’ voice reverberated throughout both ships. “I have an important announcement that concerns everyone aboard Vir Rekesh and Starhopper, Fleet and civilian. As you all know, Starhopper has just returned from contacting Empire diplomatic personnel. You also know that it is necessary to negotiate passage for us through the independents.
“But news of our mission has leaked to the media. They, in turn, have spread the word throughout man-settled space. They have also fueled a plague hysteria.
“Now, we know that a cure has been found. If it had not, all of us would be sick by now and most of us would be dead. Unfortunately, the people of the Empire and the independents don’t know it.
“We’re almost ready to begin our run home. Passage has been negotiated. However, due to the excitement over the plague we are not going to be allowed to approach Prime or, indeed, any inhabited system. The course we have been given is roundabout and ends in an uninhabited system near the Empire/Alliance border. Moreover, we will be quarantined when we get there until the authorities are convinced the plague is no threat. So, it’s going to be a long, boring trip.
“Captain Ler-Traken of Starhopper managed to get a promise from a diplomatic Fleet Attache to try to get us reprovisioned, but I’m not going to lie to you. At the moment most of settled space considers Vir Rekesh and Starhopper to be plague ships. If we try to deviate from our approved course, we might very well be attacked and destroyed by our own Fleet.
“Now that would be bad enough,” he continued, “But there’s more. Our course has been negotiated. That means any competent astrogator can backtrack the course and locate this system — and us.
“I’m not going to belabor the obvious. We have to get out of this system as quickly as possible. A battle group from the Glory or one of the other independents could be on its way here right now. I’m sure that even you civilians realize that a warship with only a tenth of a crew is not an effective warship.
“So, I’m calling on each of you, civilian or Fleet, enlisted or officer, to do your utmost to get us underway. I have been given an estimate of three to four days to get us ready to boost. We can do better than that. I want to boost in forty-eight hours.”
He flicked off the intercom, then immediately flicked it back on. “I almost forgot to mention something. Most of you know that battle cruisers carry planet-busters. We have two of them aboard. Just in case we have to fight and are overwhelmed, I intend to make certain those weapons do not fall into the wrong hands. Therefore, as soon as we break orbit we will jettison both of them into this system’s sun. No matter what happens to this ship, or us, those planet-busters will not be allowed to threaten our homes and our loved ones. That is all.”
He flicked off the intercom and turned to To-ling. “What do you think?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I think we’d better be on our toes. We might make your forty-eight hours. And most of the crews will be too busy trying to cause any trouble. I would not have expected trouble for at least forty-eight hours anyway. But once we enter Jump, most of them will find themselves with time on their hands. Time to compare notes and begin bitching and egging each other on.”
He nodded. “That’s about the way I figured it. Okay, let’s pass the word to the officers and petty officers to slack off a bit on the discipline and concentrate on getting us under way.”
The previously busy atmosphere aboard Rekesh took on an edge of urgency and became noticeably more frantic. Every officer and petty officer, as well as most of the civilian techs, was exhausted and groggy from lack of sleep, but they made Kas’ forty-eight hour deadline.
The civilian techs were a pleasant surprise. Oh, there was some bitching and a few hysterics that demanded to be immediately returned to Prime but for the most part, once they realized their lives were also at stake they attacked their jobs with frenetic enthusiasm. In addition, they had taken his idea and developed it further. All of Rekesh ’s weaponry could now be controlled by the two gunnery officers, assisted by four enlisted Gunners at secondary stations away from the bridge.
Tre Wansung breathed a huge sigh of relief as Vir Rekesh broke orbit and headed for the jump point, Starhopper matching her moves.
Kas suppressed a grin. “I don’t think I’d relax yet, Commander Wansung. We’re still almost two days from the jump point.”
The young Commander flushed, and then grinned. “Yes, sir. It just feels good to finally be under way again. I was beginning to feel like I was on a space station instead of a ship.”
Kas started to snap a retort when he realized that he felt better, too. He contented himself with ordering max boost — which was not particularly impressive. A ship in space may be weightless, but it is not massless. It was no mean feat to accelerate the ship’s multi-megaton mass at all, much less to accelerate it quickly.
He did permit himself a smile as he ordered the planet-busters launched on their self-destructive orbit into the system’s sun. At least the Fleet would not have to face those monstrosities in the hands of an enemy. Of course, what Pankin or the Emperor might have to say about him throwing away perfectly functional weapons… well, he’d deal with that if, no, make that when, they got to their destination.
Kas and To-Ling had double-checked Lieutenant Commander Raskin’s orbital computations. They agreed that the planet-busters should hit the sun’s photosphere an hour and twenty-seven minutes before they jumped.
Given the speed of light and their own no-longer-trivial acceleration away from the sun, that meant they should have a few seconds to see at least the beginning of any effect the bombs might have, but they should escape into jump ahead of any wave fronts generated by them. They hoped.
Once underway Kas sent the crews of both ships to alert stations. From this time on, they would be at alert stations anytime they were not actually in Jump. It wasn’t exactly standard procedure, but then, these were not exactly standard conditions.
Despite their theoretical safety margin, Kas was fidgeting, eyes glued to the countdown timer as the time approached for them to be able to see the effect, if any, of the planet-busters’ impact on the sun.
A shout from the helmsman interrupted his worrying. “Ship emerging! Two… Three… Six ships, sir!”
Kas cursed and swung to his panel, clicking the controls to forward sensors, rather than aft. There they were, six blips. Two were noticeably larger, and he was unsurprised by the Gunnery Officer’s cry of “Empire pattern warships, sir! Two are destroyers!”
Kas forced himself to remain calm. They were incredibly lucky. Whoever the admiral commanding that flotilla, and whatever his origins, he could not be expecting to find Kas’ ships charging directly toward him at a significant fraction of light speed.
No, he had certainly been expecting to have plenty of time to form his command into an attack formation, then to spend perhaps days looking for Rekesh and Starhopper.
His surmise was confirmed by the ragged formation that was becoming even more disorganized as the ships’ captains detected a half-kilometer-sized ship bearing down on a collision course and keyed emergency maneuvers.
He swung his command chair. “Gunners, fire everything we’ve got. They’re confused, and we’d better keep them that way!”
The hull beneath his feet thrummed as Vir Rekesh erupted in weapon discharges. Heavy lasers, particle beams, and even projectiles slashed out toward the new arrivals. Kas tried to judge the effect, if any, of their fire, but as suddenly as it had begun, the universe disappeared, and they were in the nothingness of supralight. Kas glared at now-useless sensors. “Damage reports…” he began. Then he noticed Con Vertring, the Assistant Operations Officer, speaking urgently into his headphones. Of course. Any officer worth ten minims would be collecting damage reports as soon as they jumped — or even before.
“Ops,” he continued, “route damage reports and all sensor scans for the last five minutes to my cabin. XO, if you’ll join me, we’ll try to figure out what the Sheol just happened.”
A frosty smile rose to To-Ling’s lips. “Of course, Commodore.” They hurried to the flag cabin.
“The first thing to find out is whether Starhopper made it,” he began. “I hope we had some sensors trained on her!”
To-Ling shook her head. “I doubt it, sir. Almost all our sensors were trained on the sun, so we could observe and record what happened. If anything.”
Kas frowned. “Yah. If anything. Okay, let’s try to piece this thing together. Whoever that was,” he waved an arm vaguely, “His timing couldn’t have been worse from his point of view. Or better, from ours. I…” he paused as his earpiece came alive with damage reports.
He breathed a huge sigh of relief. Damage was minimal. Their enemies had managed only scattered, disorganized fire. It appeared that only those who had not waited for orders had opened fire.
Rekesh ’s hull had not been breached, but a sensor array had been damaged and a beam projector turret was off-line. The few personnel injuries were due to accident and excitement among the civilians. No one was seriously hurt.
To-Ling was hearing the same reports over her earpiece, and one of her rare smiles testified to her relief.
Kas took a deep breath, released it gustily. “As I was saying,” he began, “we were incredibly lucky. But now, we know for certain we’re being pursued and our course is on record. This trip may end up being the longest pursuit and running fight in spaceflight history.”
To-ling frowned. “I don’t know, Commodore. We need to review those sensor scans.”
Kas nodded. “Of course. We will have to review them second by second. Most important, I want to know whether Starhopper made it. Then, we have to know how much damage, if any, we inflicted on the enemy. The more damage, the longer before they can pursue.”
The small woman nodded, irritated. “Those aren’t the only scans we need to review. Don’t forget about those planet-busters. If we’ve triggered a nova, we may not have to worry about pursuit at all.”
“Damn! I’d forgotten about that.” He smiled. “Somehow, battles seem to drive little details like novas out of my mind.”
The tight-lipped smile surfaced again, and they huddled over the viewers, slowing them until they could be certain they had missed nothing.