* * *
“They’re just sitting there,” Morgana said as she studied her board.
We had stopped at the extreme range of our sensors from the rendezvous location. The only thing we were picking up was a lone ship that was sitting exactly at the rendezvous coordinates. If there were another ship out there it was stealthed and not moving.
“They’re running continual sensor sweeps, but we’re still outside of their range.”
Our upgraded sensor system gave us a distance advantage over the other ship. It also helped that we were running with all unnecessary systems shut down. In keeping with our masquerade as a poor transport ship I had also ordered that we keep our battle shields off. We were as electronically quiet as we could be short of activating our stealth system. But that meant that we were also vulnerable to a beam attack from any ship within a spherical radius of a several light seconds, or about half a million kilometers, if there were another ship out here. That was a lot of space to keep an eye on.
The atmosphere aboard the bridge was tense. Everyone was focused on their board, ready to react instantly to the sudden appearance of a hostile ship.
The two day long trip to this empty section of space Smith had selected for our clandestine rendezvous had been uneventful. As he promised, there had been no sign of pirate ships dogging our trail. To keep up our appearance as an old transport, we had maintained a speed of light factor 20, which was 400 times the speed of light, for most of the trip. At that speed we would seem to be pushing the limits of our drive system while any stealthed ship tracking us would have left a clear hyperspace wake for our sensors to detect. But we had picked up no signs that we were being followed during the entire trip.
Since we could find nothing suspicious in the vicinity I had Bobby get us under way again. As we transited back into hyperspace for the final leg of the journey, Morgana kept her eyes glued to her monitors. If we were headed into a trap, this would be the place to spring it.
The bridge was quiet as we closed the distance to the waiting ship. Time seemed to tick by slower than usual as we gradually moved into range of their sensors.
“Sir,” Tom called out after several minutes, shattering the tense quiet. “We’re being challenged by the other ship.”
“Send the countersign,” I said.
Tom spoke briefly and listened to the other ship’s reply.
“They want us to drop to normal space at ten thousand kilometers and approach at sublight,” he reported a few moments later.
“Somebody’s a little paranoid,” Chris commented.
He was right. Since we knew where their ship was we could easily have dropped out of hyperspace within a kilometer of their position with no trouble. The only reason to have us drop to sublight so far away was to keep us from launching a surprise attack against them–or to set us up for a surprise attack.
After getting confirmation from Morgana that the sensors were still registering nothing in the area, and making sure that Mark had his finger poised to raise our shields the second I gave the order, I had Tom inform the other ship that we would comply with their instructions.
Several minutes later we dropped back to normal space. As we approached our contact, Bobby brought their image up on the main screen. As soon as I got a good look at their ship I understood their caution. The other ship was a transport roughly the same size as us and looked to be in the same condition as well. Whereas the Prometheus was disguised to give the appearance of a ship in a state of disrepair, judging by the condition of our contact, they truly were in no shape to fight off a raider if that was what we had turned out to be. Just to be on the safe side, I had Morgana do a focused scan of them as we approached.
“It looks peaceful enough,” she said. “I’m not reading anything that looks like any kind of active weapons system. Energy emissions indicate that they’ve got their main drive’s power plant on-line with their engines in standby. Looks like their captain is keeping their ship ready to bug out at a moment’s notice, even if it’s costing them fuel.”
My instincts were telling me that there would be no problem with the cargo transfer, and that was troubling me. Everything was turning out to be almost too routine. It was starting to look like Mr. Smith was nothing more than a black market arms dealer who was using down on their luck smugglers to transport his merchandise.
That thought stayed with me as we got ready to do the cargo transfer. The other captain seemed jumpy and eager to complete our business as quickly as possible. He ordered us to come to a dead stop, then they cautiously drew up on our port beam but would not dock with us. Instead, he had us depressurize our cargo hold and the transfer was handled using loading arms. As soon as the transfer was complete, the other crew buttoned up their hold and immediately began pulling away. Their captain instructed us to hold our position until they were out of the area. Once they had retreated to a safe distance to maneuver, the crew brought their ship about and fled into hyperspace. Morgana tracked their progress as they took off at a dead run toward the galactic core. When their ship showed no indication of changing course after several minutes, I told Bobby to get us under way as well.
The entire episode had been a bust as far as I was concerned. Morgana’s scan of the transport’s engine signature had revealed that it was not one of the missing Fleet ships. I ordered copies of our scans sent back to Morgan anyway on the chance that our people might be able to identify it, although I knew it was a long shot. The transport’s crew had disabled their ship’s ID beacon and painted over whatever identifying markings that might have once been on its hull.
The trafficking of stolen Gilead weaponry would have to be turned over to someone else. Morgan had already assigned people to look into where the rapiers had come from. The intelligence agents of the RIA were the best there were. We’d supplied them with the serial numbers of the missiles we had transported and I had every confidence that they would eventually trace the source of the illegal flow of arms. Our job was to make an inroad into the pirate network and so far we didn’t have much to show for our efforts.
As soon as we had made the jump to light speed I called another meeting of my department heads. It was time to go on the offensive.
“I’ve been thinking about our progress so far,” I said once everyone had found a seat, “and I’ve decided that we’ve reached a dead end with Smith and his people. There’s no doubt that they’ve got some connection to the pirates, but turning ourselves into their cargo flunkies isn’t going to get us on the inside of their operation the way we want. It’s time we adopted a more aggressive strategy.”
“You want to switch to the back-up plan,” Chris said.
“Yes. It’s riskier, but we’re not getting anywhere this way. Bobby, how long will it take to catch up with the Finian’s flight plan?”
Bobby looked off into the distance for a moment. “If we run at flank speed, we can be there in a couple of hours, give or take.”
“That’ll do,” I said. “Unless anyone has a better idea, that’s our next play. We’ll engage the stealth system and make the run from here to where the Finian is supposed to be. Hopefully, once we’re in position someone will try to take us down.” I looked at Mark. “I’ll need you to coordinate with Morgana to track any inbound torpedoes. We don’t want them to actually damage us but we need to convince them that they took out our engines and that we’re helpless.”
“Piece of cake,” Mark said. “I’ve already tied the targeting scanners into the main sensor array and worked out a firing protocol for a stealthed target. We’ll be able to take out their bird at a safe distance without any trouble.”
“Don’t miss. If you let them actually damage my ship I’m taking the cost of the repairs out of your pay.”
“You’ve got my word they won’t even scratch the paint,” Mark said confidently. “Of course, in our current condition I’m not sure we could tell even if they did.”<
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“Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder,” I chided, then turned to Chris. “How about our plan for handling their boarding party? I don’t think I need to remind you that it would be a really bad thing to have armed pirates running around loose aboard the ship.”
“Not to worry, Jason,” Chris said. “Between the new measures designed into the ship and the surprises Barney came up with, we shouldn’t have any trouble controlling their movements.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Finally, I turned to Clive. “What about your people, Colonel? The rest of us will handle their boarding party, but the most important part of the operation is going to depend on your team.”
“We’ll be in and out before they know what hit them, Sir,” Clive said simply. Although I had never actually seen Clive and his people in action, I didn’t doubt their ability. I had reviewed Clive’s dossier very carefully before selecting him as the leader of the tactical operations unit. Out of all the potential candidates I had looked at, his record stood head and shoulders above the rest. Everything I had read in his service records, both the open file as well as the sealed one which detailed the numerous covert operations he had undertaken, said that he was a brilliant officer who kept his head under fire and could think on his feet. When he accepted this position he specifically requested Bruce and Jimmy as the other members of his team, explaining that of all the men he had ever worked with they were the best at what they did. Their service records backed up his assessment.
“Then I think we’re ready to give this a go,” I said. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the edge of the conference table as I looked into the faces of my people. This was the first time I would be taking this crew up against a hostile enemy. Although I felt that we had a solid plan which gave us an excellent chance of success I also knew that nothing was a hundred percent guaranteed. And the pirates were certain to be some nasty characters.
“We’ve planned for every contingency we could think of and I’m confident that we can pull this off,” I said. “But it’s important that we don’t underestimate these bastards. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, but they’ll be heavily armed and will have no compunction against killing any one of us at the slightest provocation. Remember, these guys have proven themselves time and time again to be cold blooded murderers and slavers. If you get into a situation where you have to put someone down, you make sure he stays down. Besides, if any of you get yourselves killed I’m cancelling your Christmas bonus.” That earned me several grins.
“What if we’re just wounded?” Lucky wisecracked.
“Half pay for a month,” I shot back, this time getting a few polite chuckles.
“I guess that’s everything,” I said. “I suggest that anyone not on duty use the next couple of hours get some rack time. As soon as we’re in place we’re going to be running at a constant alert status. With any luck the pirates will take the bait when they pick us up in that deserted sector and come after us.”
“We’re certainly making it easy enough for them,” Lucky said. “We’re going to be parsecs away from anything else for most of the flight plan and moving slow enough for them to catch us riding a rusty tricycle. We might as well paint bull’s-eyes on our asses while we’re at it. Maybe I should break out some cans of red paint from the ship’s stores.”
Several chuckles broke out around the table.
“You’re not coming anywhere near my ass with a paint brush,” Ian rumbled.
Lucky cocked his head to one side and studied his friend briefly. “Actually, you’re a big enough target as it is. Besides, we’re probably not carrying that much paint on board.”
“Are you saying I have a big ass?” Ian challenged him.
Lucky made a show of leaning over and looking at Ian’s backside. “You know, I never really noticed before but you’ve actually got quite a cute little butt, big guy.”
The new crew members were watching the exchange with puzzled expressions. It had become customary among the original crew for us to toss around jokes whenever we found ourselves in a stressful situation. And as usual, Lucky took things a step further than anyone else. It was a harmless way to relieve tension and I usually let it go on for a little while. When the time came I knew each of my people would be up to whatever was demanded of them.
“Why don’t both of you take your asses back to your posts and make sure everything is ready,” I said, interrupting them before the conversation could degenerate any further. “That’s it everyone. Final check at seventeen thirty hours.”
As the meeting broke up Lucky and Ian were still exchanging quips.
“No, really,” Lucky was insisting as he trotted along beside Ian’s imposing figure. “It really is a nice, tight little ass. I’ll bet it helps a lot with the ladies. What do you do to keep it in shape; squat thrusts, lunges, Pilates?”
“Are you calling me a tight ass now?” Ian said, glancing down at Lucky. “And how long have you been looking at my butt, anyway? Get away from me.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to the bridge crew as they returned to their stations. “Mark, prepare to engage the stealth system. Bobby, set course for the Finian’s projected position. And hurry!”