Chapter 55 On to Boscone
01
Min stared off into the dark drifts through the view-panel in the bulkhead for several minutes after I'd finished presenting Captain D'Lay's proposal. I'd called them back from shore leave as soon as I reached the gig, and we were now sitting in her office. I let her think. I'd told her all, including St Bleyth's involvement in her assassination attempt. (Though not about my duel or my issues with St Bleyth. She seemed content to remain a pilot aboard the ship for the present, and I didn't want that to jeopardize that attitude.) It struck me that D'Lay hadn't mentioned any involvement of St Bleyth in the assassination of her parents. I'd have to ask D'Lay about that. That hadn't quite worked either...
At last she turned to me and said simply. 'Your advice, Captain.'
Her eyes, as usual, revealed nothing of her thoughts, but I suspected she was just going through the motions. 'What I'd like to do, or what I think possible?' I asked, just to play the game. This was her decision and we both knew it.
'I believe I know what you'd like to do,' she said with the faintest of smiles. 'So let's go with what you think is possible.'
I sighed. 'I'm thinking we don't have a choice. Even if I turned a blind eye to the ship's finances. I did some quick research and St Bleyth exists as D'Lay described it. They even have an agent here in CityOne to handle their business. I can't imagine we presented many obstacles to an assassin since our arrival, so we actually may be still on this side of the event horizon because of D'Lay's need for our services. And given their expertise, and need, I've been sitting here nursing a growing suspicion that Captain D'Lay may not shy away from piracy if it proves necessary to accomplish his task,' I said and paused, adding, 'To be fair, he never so much as hinted that was an option, which, the more I think about it, may be telling...' I shrugged. 'I miss Azminn and our old customers. None of them would think of cutting our throats...'
Min smiled again. I'm far from certain she shared my feelings on that. 'Then you suggest we take the credits and hope they're all the fighter pilots as they claim to be.'
'If there was a safer course, I'd argue it until I was blue in the face, but I don't see one.'
'Nor I. It is, however, a seventeen million credit ChequeToken. Didn't expect to see many of them. It dulls the sting of our plight wonderfully' said Min giving the token just resting on her desk a little push with her forefinger, sending it slowly tumbling my way. 'Please deposit it.'
'Right,' I said, lazily snatching it out of the air.
02
We sailed hollow two days later for Aticor on our cut down engine. We'd found a set of D-Steel braces actually designed to reinforced our engine's unconventional mounting. It seems that replacing worn out engines with smaller ones due to a lack of availability and/or the available credit balance is a common practice in the drifts, so the ship repair yards had braces on hand designed to fit shorter engines into our engine size slot which could be adopted for our use. Riv and the staff adopted a set to secure our engine, so I no longer had any concerns about our engine mounting. Our engine performance curve took a hit being cut down, but handling it had become second nature, so leaving it as is was not a concern. Plus, I'd have a great deal more confidence in repairs done in the Unity than anything done in the drifts, so I didn't mind putting off repairs until then.
Only Min and I knew our true course as we set out, but like Min, the gang took the news of our actual destination stoically. Most of the old spaceers knew of the Order of Saint Bleyth and their mercenary prowess, so when I mentioned D'Lay's remark about how we'd be the safest ship in the drifts they agreed – with reservations, perhaps. Still, if anyone was overly concerned, they didn't show it. They may place too much trust in my well known propensity for caution and my supposed influence on our owner. I could only hope that trust wasn't misplaced, especially since they didn't know the half of it.
Four days later found the hounds and I waiting on the landing stage to greet Captain D'Lay's long boat as it slowly approached our extended gangplank. He'd had his boat decelerating hard for the last several hours to match our velocity. As the boat slipped into the lock on to our gangplank I turned to the hounds at my side and gave them the standard strict orders to be on their best behavior and stay – you got that? Stay – as the safety door-panel slid open. I stepped onto to the gangplank as D'Lay swung out and landed lightly on gangplank deck. With his long wine dark auburn hair tied back and wearing an elegant silver and black uniform designed to fit his slim form, he looked young, casually confident, and commanding.
'Welcome aboard the Lost Star, Captain D'Lay,' I said, taking his offered hand. He smiled with his ram you, damn you look, and studied me.
'Thank you Captain. Good of you to have me on board. Let's make it simply D'Lay, unless you're all that formal aboard.'
'You'll find little formality aboard this ship, D'Lay. I'm Wil. We've a cabin prepared for you, and I'll find accommodations for your boat crew, as well.'
'Excellent. Don't worry about my boat crew – I'm sending them ahead to get things moving aboard the Striker. We can use the next two days to hammer out the details of the operation. Time is of the essence....' at which point Astro and Orbit's best behavior reached their limit and they started looping forward to welcome our guest.
'Sorry. They're just dumb and friendly,' I said snagging their collars before they could do too much slobbering. 'You see, we're not very formal at all.'
He flashed me a smile, whipping his cheek. 'So I see, Wil. But I'm very fond of dogs,' he said, crouching to meet the mutts at their eye level while dodging most of their kisses for a few moments.
'I'll take you to see our owner.'
'Lead on.'
In the well going up, I said quietly, 'I've told her about the Order's involvement in the attempt on her life. As a favor, I'd rather you keep my own encounters a secret.'
'And why is that, Wil?'
'Simply a matter of do as I say, not as I do. I need to get about and I can hardly keep Min wrapped in security and go and about doing my job as usual. I've met your Cin and can recognize her. Min hasn't.'
D'Lay gave me a weighing glance and nodded. 'Fair enough. Wouldn't want it known that you were in bed with the enemy...'
'I wasn't...'
He smiled brighter.
'Not in that way.'
'Well that's what Cin's report says, but still – blackmail can be useful, Wil...'
I said nothing further. I wasn't going to win that one.
Once I introduced D'Lay to Min in her office, I was struck by how much they seemed alike, different sexes, different features, but still, they almost could be brother and sister, sharing a certain daring attitude, and a certain ruthless drive. I wasn't certain if that was good or not. I'd a feeling I'd not want to find out, either. Hopefully D'Lay would be busy enough with his own crew that we could get by the next month or two of our charter without finding out.
The charter agreement was signed, necessary arrangements were quickly agreed to, and our course was changed to rendezvous with the Striker.
03
I wiggled through the narrow entry hatch and wormed my way up into the cockpit of the Omni-V jump fighter. 'What seat should I take?' I called back to D'Lay, following me in.
'Your choice.'
I settled into the port position, as D'Lay squeezed past me to take the other one. 'Nice and cozy,' I remarked as I settled in, the seat all but enclosed me.
He flashed me his always ready smile, empty of anything more than the efficient pursuit of his mission.
'Wait until you're completely enclosed in the harness. It takes some getting used to...' he said. 'But let's go through the check list and pullout before we engage the full cocoon.'
We were fourteen days out of Zilantre and if all went as charted, twenty-seven days from Boscone Reef. We'd rendezvoused with the Striker five days after he had joined us. It had remained on course for Boscone so that we'd not have a great deal of maneuvering to do
to continue on, once we had D'Lay's forces on board. We were met by the Striker's full force of eight jump fighters. They were taking no chances, this time. Communication was only line-of-sight lasers, so they came out ready for battle.
The Striker looked, at first glance, very similar to a freighter like the Lost Star in size and appearance. Closer inspection showed that it had two large turret missile batteries in place of our no.1 hold. It also showed a lot of dents and scars, with a large hole aft. I had to wonder what the losers looked like. Probably thinning clouds of small pieces. Its two remaining holds were fitted – for this operation anyway – with a modular docking structure for the eight jump fighters, a control room, and crew quarters built into standard shipping containers. D'Lay said that everything in the hold was secured by standard docking bars so that different operational setups could be installed depending upon the mission. In this case, it meant that the modules could be broken down into sections, removed and re-installed in our holds using the ship's freight cranes with a great deal of expediency. Because we still had no. 2 and no. 3 holds combined from transporting the guard boats, we were able to transfer and reinstall the whole jump boat instillation over the course of five watches. Less than two days after arriving alongside the Striker we were ready to set out to break the siege of Boscone Reef.
The ambush of the Striker was a clear signal that D'Lay's group had lost any element of strategic surprise so in order to gain a little tactical surprise upon our arrival, we set out on a dog leg course that would take us through a stream of gas and dust four days from the edge of the very dense asteroid cluster that made up the vast reef of Boscone and at an approach 45 degrees off of what a direct course would have carried us. A longer voyage, but if D'Lay felt it safer, I was all for it.
Five days after leaving the battered Striker behind, D'Lay had offered to introduce me to an Omni-V jump fighter, having heard of my love of rocket boats – he claimed – and with somewhat mixed feelings, I'd accepted. It would be another old spaceer claimed yarn someday...
An Omni-V jump fighter is designed for maximum maneuverability in a minimum of time. It has a slim fuselage, just wide enough for two pilots to sit side by side in the cockpit with a large fuel tank aft. Its engines are mounted mid-ship at right angles to the fuselage, extending like barbells on either side of the fuselage. The barbell part houses five rocket nozzles facing in four directions and one straight out. The output of the rocket engines can be shunted between one or two of these nozzles nearly instantly, essentially making the boat's main engines, its steering engines, able to instantly send it off in any direction. Circling fuselage, barbell to barbell, is a broad ring that houses the micro-missile launch tubes and missile magazines. The Omni-V fighter is not built for extreme speed, but rather extreme maneuverability – limited only by the endurance of the human pilots – which makes it nearly impossible to track and hit with ship to ship missiles.
Larger rocket ships can carry more, bigger and longer range missiles, but they can alter their course only marginally in the time frame of a missile attack and predictably as well, making anti-missile screens their only effective defense from hyper-speed anti-ship missiles. For this reason, D'Lay had the Striker's remaining military grade anti-missiles transferred to the Lost Star since even our newly enhanced anti-meteor missiles would not have protected us from a determined attack of hyper-speed missiles which the forces of Despar were known to deploy.
The Omni-V, commonly referred to as a jump fighter, utilizes its hyper-maneuverability to dodge most anti-ship/anti-missile missiles, and its own anti-missile missiles to destroy those it can't evade, while it closes in on enemy ships to destroy their missile batteries, engines or even the ship with their stock of more powerful, anti-ship missiles. Since in this conflict they'd likely be facing standard merchant ships pressed into service, the eight jump fighters we were carrying represented a military force that could inflict serious damage on Despar's makeshift fleet and tip the whole balance of power in this drift war once they could reach Despar's most powerful opponent, the planet and asteroid reef of Boscone.
D'Lay carefully backed us out of the boat deck davit that he'd brought the boat around to for this flight.
'Com link synced. Time to get comfy, my dear. The red button will tuck you into the full cocoon. Your arms fit in the recessed slots here and here,' he said pointing, as the seat began to close in around me, to hold every part of me absolutely still.
'You may experience a brief spell of claustrophobia as you get tucked in, but it will pass,' he continued. 'Humans are the frailest part of an Omni-V, and we need to be treated with as much care as possible. All the controls are at your fingertips...'
I'm not claustrophobic as a rule, but as the seat sealed me in, letting me only move my fingers, I'll admit to feeling a bit panicked. 'Is this really necessary?'
'Yes. Take a deep breath or two. You'll be fine. It's necessary since the vector changes can be so great that not only would they fling any part of you not sealed in, but some will be drastic enough to make you unconscious even in the cocoon. The Patrol cheats a bit on Unity laws and allows the ship itself to manage its affairs when you black out. These ships are copies the Order reconstructed from captured wreckage long ago, but they work as well or better than the Patrol versions since we've added AI technology to make them even more autonomous. We're less picky about Unity robotic laws in the drifts. These boats will evade hostile missiles on its own, you shouldn't try to interfere with that function. It'll do so far more efficiently and safely than you ever can. Your job as pilot is to work your boat close enough to your target ship to allow it to deliver your missiles into a selected target ship at a range too close for them to effectively respond. Usual targets are the ship's defensive tubes to suppress their counter fire, the engine room, or the crew section if you want reduce the ship but salvage the cargo, or you can simply go for the fuel tanks or the rocket tubes if you want them out of the way entirely.'
'Right. Are your services in great demand?'
'The drifts are vast, Wil. Hundreds of billions of people spread across millions of rocks, from vast reefs of asteroids to moons and planetoids up to planets like Zilantre. The Unity downplays our importance, and generally turns a blind eye to what accounts for 80 percent of the Nine Star Nebula, at least publicly. But there's a whole lot of activity throughout the deep drifts, a constant churn of people, wealth and ambitions which often sparks violent struggles. However, we usually see hot action only every couple of years, so training or deployment as a deterrent fills a lot of our time. Most of my pilots are freelance, but reliable, adding with a smile, 'They know the price of betrayal.'
'Ever go freelance yourself, just to keep busy?' I asked, just talking my way to some sort of calm.
'You mean turn pirate?'
'Well, that's what we'd call it in the Unity, but I gather that's just business and the risk of doing business in the drifts. At least for some.'
'Everyone's a potential future customer and it'd reflect poorly on the mission of our Order if we went about building an empire of our own, so no. We're experts for hire with no stakes in the games beyond our fee. So now are you ready?'
'I suppose so. How do you fly this contraption?'
'Hang on and I'll show you,' he said, adding as we shot up like an express elevator and then forward, the heavy hand of inertia pushing me this way and that, 'And don't worry, the ship monitors your condition and keeps you in tip top form.'
We took everything at half speed, or so he'd like me to believe and when it came to my turn to fly it, I kept everything at a quarter speed. We went out to the sentry boat and using low powered laser cannons, played a game of tag to show me how they fought these boats. Even with the boat helping, I was pretty bad, though I eventually found it to be interesting. A rocket boat is a rocket boat, even if it has its engines installed the wrong way.
We were drifting off the Lost Star's boat deck two hours later as the seats released us from their grasp when h
e said, 'Some of your crew have expressed an interest in flying these boats. I told them I'd have to clear it with you first.'
'Ah' I thought, as I looked across at him in the dim display lit cockpit. 'Are we naming names?'
'Tallith, Vyn, Ten and Molaye. 'No mysteries, people who like to fly rockets.'
'And your honest reaction?'
'I'd like to take them up on it. We could use the help. Not to fight, mind you, that's far too specialized and dangerous. Just as picket pilots. A three-hour watch per day. I'd like to keep my crew as fresh as possible for the real show, and if I could use several of your people on picket duty each day, it'd help a lot. We'd train them, of course, but if anything that might be unfriendly should appear, I'd scramble my crew and get your crew's boat in. Neither of us wants to lose a pilot, or a boat. I don't think we'd be risking their lives doing routine picket duty. And I know you can spare'em when not under power, and they'd be contributing to everyone's safety... So what do you say?'
'Is it my decision? I don't really think the owner needs my permission.'
'She felt it falls within your bailiwick. An operational decision.'
I considered the implications. It made sense, I suppose.
'I'm not going to tell Tallith what to do, and since both Vyn and Ten are ex-Patrol, I'm sure they'd be a welcome addition to your force. I believe they've done some training on jump boats... So the only one I'll not let you have is Molaye. She's too young, too inexperienced.'
'I understand, but I have to say that she really wants to do it and, I gather, a natural pilot,' said D'Lay, adding with a grin, ‘So I'll leave it to you to tell her.'
'Thanks.'
04
Molaye didn't take it well. I'd asked her to step around to my office after her watch. Moon born and raised, she's usually elegantly willowy, but when she's angry, she gets ram rod straight and towering. She was angry now. 'Why?' she snapped glaring down at me, adding 'Captain,' only reluctantly, angry at herself for adding it at all. For a junior pilot, she gets awful bold. The trouble is that she knows me too well.
'To start with, because I say so.'
'My dad used to say that too. It didn't wash then. And you're not my dad.'
'No, I'm not. I'm your captain, pilot Merlun, so it will work for me. This is a Guild ship and unless you've fallen in love with the drifts, you'll do well to remember that. And, while we're on the subject, you might do well to remember who I am and what I can do for your career,' I shot back, in mostly mock anger. I must admit to admiring her spirit. I didn't have to put up with it often, so I let the occasional lapses of good judgment slide.
She almost let the smile cross her lips, but caught it before it left her eyes. She pivoted in an instant, 'Sorry, sir. But I've my heart set on piloting a jump fighter. Please, Captain. You know I love rockets, and speed. I'm certain I can handle them... This is likely my only chance in my whole life! Can I do it? Please.'
'I'm sure you'd be able to fly'em like a pro in no time. It's not that...'
'Then what is it? Sir?'
I sighed. 'It's nothing to do with flying, Molaye. It has to do with using them. They're designed to kill people. And I feel that you're too young to kill people. If you want to do that, you'll need to sign on with the Patrol or Captain D'Lay's group. But I think you'd be wise to stay a tramp ship pilot.'
'But we're not going to killing anyone. We're not even allowed in a battle. It's just for boring old patrol duty...'
'Right. Right up until we get jumped on by a dozen ships out of a drift and all bets are off. Or when their pilots are too battered or worn out to fight. They'll ask for volunteers and then it'll be kill or be killed. I don't want you to be in that position. Your dad made Captain Miccall promise to keep you out of danger when he arranged for your apprenticeship aboard us...'
She grinned. She was racing rocket sleds at the time, and her father, seeing some great difference between racing rocket sleds and crater buggies, had called in some old favors and arranged for the apprenticeship to fly a far larger rocket and see a bit of the Nebula. She'd reluctantly agreed, but had settled smoothly into the life of a tramp ship pilot. Still, more than a trace of that “rockets away” racing pilot clung to Molaye.
'Plus, I think you don't really want to be a fighter pilot, you just want to go fast...'
She looked away. 'I do want to go fast, Captain. But it looks like so much fun... But if I'm needed to defend my shipmates and my ship, I want to be able to do so. Please, can I just learn how to fly them?'
The problem was, and I knew this from the get-go, that I couldn't deny Molaye anything, within reason. She's my first protégé. And she is so good with rockets, well machines really, a natural. I really couldn't deny her this opportunity to fly these rare and special rockets.
I sighed. 'Alright, just flying. No fighting. When things get iffy, you won't be flying. Ten and Vyn are old pros, so I won't tell them not to go out, and Min is my boss, so I can't tell her not to. But with you, I can, and will. And I don't want to hear a word, or get one of your looks when I ground you. Understood?'
She flashed me her winning smile, 'Thanks Skipper! You're a dear – just like my dad!'
And just as malleable.
I met D'Lay in the bistro and told him of my decision and my restrictions on Molaye. 'And I want your promise you'll not put her in the rotation if there's any danger at all.'
'I'll promise not to put her in. If it should just happen, I'll do everything I can to see that she has every chance to get out of it. More than that, I can't promise, Wil. You realize we're facing a lot of unknowns... That ambush has put us on notice – things may be more challenging that we'd anticipated. And there's nothing we can do about it.'
'Now you tell me. Well, sign me up too. You'll put Molaye in only over my dead body...'
'Fair enough. Should it come to that, I'm certain I'd not be able to keep her out of an operational boat.’
05
Rafe found the first bogey on the edge of our long range radar two days later. It was far out of range of our jump fighters and though it closed with us over the next several watches, it stayed outside the operational range of D'Lay's jump fighters. It seemed clear that it was now stalking us, since on first contact it had been only coasting in the direction of Boscone but fired its rockets on our appearance, building up just enough of a velocity to pace us. We were clearly expected.
After I'd finished a two-hour session of jump fighter training and docked the fighter in its dock in the cargo hold operations center, I stopped by Captain D'Lay's small, bare office for his take on the shadowing pickets.
If he was concerned, he wasn't showing it. He sat back in his chair, resting on his hands at the back of his head. 'Surprise plays no part in my plans, Willy. The ambush of the Striker knocked that idea on its head. I know you want to stay well clear of the battle, and without the element of surprise, it would be prudent to assess the tactical situation before I commit my forces, so I'm pretty much of the same mind. Boscone's Reef is quite large, has several wide passages and we've a good chart of it. At last report they still controlled nearly all of it, so if we can align our approach properly, we can hit a passage and can come in hot and fast, blow past the Despar blockade and put off our final decel until we're safely within the reef. With my fighters escorting your ship in, most likely facing mostly merchant raiders I don't anticipate any problems making Boscone. Once there, your job is done,' he added, daring me to challenge that.
'I'm less certain than you are about those merchant raiders. But why couldn't Despar have hired mercenary jump fighters of their own, or even mercenary warships? You've said that there are other mercenaries available, and well, come to think of it, they could just as easily be Saint Bleyth mercenaries, which, if I'm to accept you at face value, are nothing to be scoffed at. Plus, I seem to recall the captains back on Zilantre mentioning that Despar had a professional navy of its own.'
He shrugged, 'The Despar Navy consists of eighteen small
frigates, or did until they met the Striker. Probably only fifteen are operational now, plus several dozen smaller vessels, thirty meter ships at most, and they're threatening or attacking several dozen drift settlements in half an au sphere. They've stretched their forces thin in an effort to get big and powerful fast – before anyone else can mount an effective challenge to them. We could take on six of their small frigates, and they can't spare more than several for Boscone alone. And I assure you, as far as I know, my jump fighter wing is the only one within a 100 aus of Despar, and by far the best in the drifts. Anything is possible in the Neb, but I can't imagine we'll find anything we can't take on and win.'
'And I'd imagine there's a Saint Bleyth tactician admiral on the Despar's flagship telling much the same thing to the Despar admiral as we speak – Eight little jump fighters are no threat, sir, short ranged and they burn through pilots – my frigates can take them on and extinguish Boscone's last hope.'
He laughed. 'That's exactly what I'd be saying... Still I'd be surprised if there's Bleyth ships in the in the Despar fleet off Boscone. A tactician yes, a ship or ships, no. Of course that's just a feeling I have. We'll just have to see...'
'Just how likely is it that we'll be facing St Bleyth frigates as well? That seems, well rather hard on the members of the Order, not to mention being wasteful. Are there that many of you that the Order can afford to expend at least half their agents in any conflict fighting each other even if it doubles its profit?'
He shrugged. 'I don't know. Those types of calculations are made by the Masters of the Monastery. But, you see, many of our services – the non-combat ones – are in constant demand. Our various experts are often engaged as advisers, or hired on retainer, to be called on as needed. Our combat services, like mine, can go for years, just training without ever seeing combat. In the often tangled affairs of the drift, our advisers and trainers are hired out to many rivals. It's only when things go Bang! – like they have now – that these tangled arrangements may result in brothers and sisters of the Order actually fighting each other. I've no idea how big a client Despar is, but because it and its allies have made such a bold and far-ranging play for power against the major powers in the quarter of the Myzar Drift, I'm certain the Order is deeply involved in every aspect of the conflict on both sides.
'That said, I think it very unlikely that our Masters would take on an obligation that would inevitably result in the destruction of the Order's jump fighter wing and one or more of their own frigates as well. It simply wouldn't pay to deploy such major resource intensive investments like jump fighters and frigates against each other. Advisers and other support resources are another matter. I'd not be surprised if a brother or sister of the Order would be in charge of handling the siege of Boscone. Still he or she would still have to work with the cobbled together material at hand, so I'm not very worried. It's all rather strange, I know, but we have, after all, been providing these services for the better part of four hundred centuries, so it does all work out.'
'Since the founding?”
'Our legendary founder, Niclo Bleyth, is said to have come to the Nebula in one of the first settlement ships...'
'Legendary?'
He laughed. 'The half-life of even recorded facts is far less than forty thousand years, Wil. No one knows the half-life of legends.'
'I seemed to have run into several very old ones already. But you were saying that your Order's founder came on the founding ships...' I said, curious about this Order of Saint Bleyth.
'Aye, in those old days, there were always warriors aboard those first ships, and Niclo Bleyth was one of those. Even if we strip the veils of legends that now surround her, she must have had both a religious dimension and charisma about her, since her memory lingered long after her passing in both the spiritual and martial arts tradition. Eventually, as the Unity evolved, this dedication to martial arts meant that the followers of her way had to migrate to the drifts in order to carry on with her, by then, legendary tradition. And so we have, for as long as the people have lived on the worlds of the Nine Star Nebula.'
'Where is the Order located, or is that a secret?'
'A deep and dark secret, I assure you. We have, of course, branch monasteries scattered about this quarter of the drift, but our Prime Monastery is a well-kept secret.'
'I'd imagine you've made enough bitter enemies over forty thousand years that some would have succeeded in finding it.'
'Many may have, but none have ever returned,' he laughed. 'The fact is that I've no idea where to find the Prime Monastery, even though I grew up in it. When we go out into the Neb, we go out in sleeper-pod and we don't return to the Monastery until we're recalled, usually well into middle age, past our prime as operatives and ready to settle down and to raise a new generation of brothers and sisters of Saint Bleyth.'
'Are there many of you, or is that a secret?'
'Compared to what, Wil? We are insignificant compared to most Unity worlds, but in the drifts, we're, oh, say on the order of Boscone or Despar, taking both exterior and interior members. Most of us are only lay brothers and sisters who live just as any drifteer does, mining, building, farming, creating art or any other occupation needed to make a viable society. We have scientist and scholars just like any well rounded society. Only a few are selected to the full martial order, mostly from a few hundred families that specialize in the martial arts.'
'Still, it must be hard to have kept it such a world secret for so long, especially one so involved with the affairs of the drift.'
'Not if the world is inside out, or outside in,' he replied with a sly grin.
I considered his hint. 'Ah, a hollow asteroid, or a moon?' Even a small moon, if hollow could house a world's full of people on its interior surface, its spin producing a pseudo-gravity on the surface. It'd have to have some source of light and heat, but those technologies are common in the First World systems.
He just shrugged. 'I'm giving nothing away when I say that there are millions and millions of large rocks or minor moons in the drifts that, if they were hollow, could house billions of people, without showing anything out of the ordinary at all. Quite frankly, our rivals have given up the quest as being too expensive to be worth it. And pointless. The nebula is vast, and there's work for us all on every planet, moon and rock in it.'
'It would seem you're right.'
'Ah, yes. I'm sorry, Wil. You were unfortunate, the wrong companion in the wrong place and time.'
'And my dear Leith, that's all there's to it. They must think I know something I certainly don't, and I believe I can say the same for Min. It seems a terrible waste of...well everything really. I'd think you can live in the Nine Star Nebula as you will, without killing people.'
'Well, I'd think so too...'
I gave him a look. 'But you don't live so.'
He shrugged. 'I am who I am, and who I was made to be. I was chosen and entered the Monastery’s academy at the age of eleven. I've taken my sacred vows – think what you like of them,' he added when I waved a hand to discount them. 'And I'll live up to them. And when I've served my time, I'll settle down and live a peaceful life...'
'And raise a new generation of tacticians.'
He smiled. 'I rather doubt that.'
06
The following day we had another stalker in range and a likely third one at the extreme edge of our radar range. We were still three weeks away from the reefs of Boscone.
'An ambush and now three shadows three weeks out of Boscone? You're not a very popular fellow, D'Lay,' I said as he slipped into one of the chairs in my office.
He gave me a wicked grin. 'I'm so flattered. I never realized I was this dangerous.'
'So any change of plans? Cup of cha?'
'No, and no. I'm going over to my control station shortly. I'm just here to keep you briefed. I don't want you losing any sleep over these developments. Nothing in our plans depends on surprise anymore. So in and of itself, our shadows make no difference. And the late
st intelligence I had before leaving Zilantre indicated that there were no major reinforcements outside of Boscone, so if they're using their ships as distant pickets, they would've had to reduce their forces deployed besieging Boscone, making our entrance that much easier.'
'But can you rely on your intelligence? You seem to have enemies within the upper levels of the Monastery,' I pointed out, adding, 'And if a Bleyth tactician is directing their operations, you can't assume that they're being foolish using three ships for shadows.'
He shrugged. 'Could be a bluff. The thing is, Willy, I'd not be afraid to take on the whole Despar Navy with my wing. I don't see how this changes anything.'
'Yet they don't appear to be alarmed either, even knowing what you're bringing to the party. They're not bothering to hide the fact that they're waiting for you. Which, in turn suggests that you don't know something, something that gives them the confidence to show their hand so blatantly...'
'True. It is as I said, it might just be a bold front, a bluff. I believe my intel on Despar is solid and I don't know of anything in their fleet that can stand a chance against my eight jump fighters. I doubt they could afford more than a frigate or two – they lost two to me and several in their first bid for Boscone – for this operation. If they decide to try and crush us with sheer numbers, they're bound to lose so many ships that it would cripple their siege. Boscone is big, important, and rich. They just failed to capture it in one bold move early on in the war after luring all the CTC guard boats deep into the drifts with their raids on CTC mines and survey operations. They've no recourse now except to blockade and lay siege to the reef. You need a lot of ships to do that, so they can't spare too many on us without letting up on the siege. I think these stalkers are a bluff.'
'Not that it matters. You're going to go in against any odds,' I said, bitterly.
'I've my commission, my dear Wil. I don't have a lot of leeway.'
'You're making me nervous, D'Lay.'
He looked across at me. 'You didn't think I handed over seventeen million credits to escort me to a ball, did you?'
'No. I suppose not, but truth be told, a major reason why we accepted those credits is because we were pretty certain you wouldn't accept no for an answer.'
He gave me a sinister smile. 'Why Willy, just what type of people do you think you're dealing with?'
'I like you, D'Lay, but I hope I'm no fool. I'm dealing with professional killers.'
He gave me a long steady look, and shrugged. 'In your position, you'd best hope you're right, because you're going to need professional killers on your side.'