Part 15 (2/2)
It looked clean. Mazer Star Mazer Star, captained by one Argemon G.o.dheir, owned by Kirman, Vini & G.o.dheir, Ltd., registration numbers, crew size, ma.s.s cargo and volume . . . every detail crisp and unmistakable. Com had already queried the database: Mazer Star Mazer Star was a thirty-seven year old hull from a respectable s.h.i.+pyard, refitted twice at the normal intervals, owners.h.i.+p as given, and no mysterious disappearances or changes in use. was a thirty-seven year old hull from a respectable s.h.i.+pyard, refitted twice at the normal intervals, owners.h.i.+p as given, and no mysterious disappearances or changes in use.
”So what is it doing here?” asked Sa.s.s, voicing everyone's confusion. She looked back at the Com section, and the Com watch all shrugged. ”Well. They're acting as if we don't exist, so let's see how close we can get.”
Whatever Mazer Star Mazer Star was doing, it was not looking for a cruiser in its area; Sa.s.sinak began to feel a wholly irrational glee at how close they were able to come. Either their stealth gear was better than even she had supposed, or the stubby little insystem trader had virtually no detection gear (or the most incompetent radar operator in seven systems). Finally they were within tractor distance, and Sa.s.sinak ordered the s.h.i.+elds full on and stealth gear off. And a transmission by tight-beam radio, although she felt she could almost have shouted across the s.p.a.ce between s.h.i.+ps. Certainly could have, in an atmosphere. was doing, it was not looking for a cruiser in its area; Sa.s.sinak began to feel a wholly irrational glee at how close they were able to come. Either their stealth gear was better than even she had supposed, or the stubby little insystem trader had virtually no detection gear (or the most incompetent radar operator in seven systems). Finally they were within tractor distance, and Sa.s.sinak ordered the s.h.i.+elds full on and stealth gear off. And a transmission by tight-beam radio, although she felt she could almost have shouted across the s.p.a.ce between s.h.i.+ps. Certainly could have, in an atmosphere.
”Mazer Star, Mazer Star! FSP Cruiser Zaid-Dayan to Mazer Star - ”
”What the - who the formative novations are you you! Get off our tail or we'll - ” That voice was quickly replaced by another, and a screen image of a stocky man in a captain's uniform.
”Mazer Star, G.o.dheir commanding, to Federation s.h.i.+p Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan . . . where did you come from? Did you receive the same distress message?” . . . where did you come from? Did you receive the same distress message?”
Distress message? What was he talking about? Sa.s.sinak took over from the Com officer, and spoke to him herself.
”Captain G.o.dheir, this is Commander Sa.s.sinak of the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan. We're tracking pirates, captain. What do you mean, distress beacon? Can you explain your presence in company with a heavyworlder transport?”
”Heavyworlder transport? Where?” On the screen, his face looked both ways as if he expected one to come bursting through his bulkheads.
”Below - it's going in to land. Now what's this about a distress beacon? And what kind of range and detection gear do you have?”
His answers, if a bit disorganized, quickly made sense out of the past several days. On long-term contract to supply the Ryxi colony, he'd recently returned to the system from a Ryxi relay-point. ”You know they prefer to hire human crews,” he said with a twinkle. ”Routine flying's too boring for them, or something like that. We'd picked up some incoming specialists, and the supplies. Unloaded over there - ” He waved in a way that Sa.s.sinak interpreted as meaning the planet in question. ”Then we heard about some kind of problem here, a human exploration team that needed help, maybe a mutiny situation. So we came over - we can land without a grid, you see - But if you're here instead, then I guess we're not needed. You certainly gave us a start, Commander, that you did - ”
”You may be needed yet,” said Sa.s.s. ”How were you supposed to find this missing team?” G.o.dheir gave her the reference numbers, and said he'd detected a faint beacon signal from near the coast. While they were talking, Com suddenly waved wildly.
Timran, piloting the number one shuttle of the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan, felt for the first time since coming on active duty like a real Fleet officer. On the track of slavers or pirates or something, in command of his own s.h.i.+p, however small. Actually it was better small - more of an adventure. Gori, hunched in the copilot's seat, was actually pale.
”This is really it,” Timran said, with another quick sideways glance. He had said it before.
”Don't look at me, Tim - keep an eye on your sensors.”
”We're doing just fine.” In his mind's eye, he saw himself reporting back to Commander Sa.s.sinak, telling her exactly what she needed to know, saw her smiling at him, praising him . . .
”Tim! You're sliding up on him!”
”It's all right.” It wasn't, quite, but he eased back on the power, and settled the shuttle into the center of the transport's blind cone, where turbulence from its drive prevented its sensors from detecting them. It was harder than he'd thought, keeping the shuttle in the safe zone. But he could do it, and he'd follow it down to the bottom of the sea, if he had to. Too bad he didn't have enough armament to take it himself. He toyed with the idea of enabling the little tractor beam that the shuttles used around s.p.a.ce stations, what the engineering chief called the ”parking brake,” but realized it wouldn't have much effect on something the ma.s.s of that transport.
”This is what I thought about during finals,” he said, hoping to get some kind of reaction from Gori.
”Huh. No wonder you came in only twelfth from the bottom.”
”Somebody has to be on the bottom. If they didn't think I could do the work, they wouldn't have let me graduate. And the captain gave me this job - ”
”To get you out of her hair while she deals with that escort or whatever it is. Krims, Tim, you spend too much time daydreaming about glory, and not enough - look out out!”
Reflexively, Tim yanked on the controls, and the shuttle skimmed over a jagged peak, its drive whining at the sudden load. ”She said stay low,” he said, but Gori snorted.
”You could let me fly. I can keep my mind on my work.”
”She gave it to me!” In that brief interval, the transport had pulled ahead. ”And I've got better ratings as a shuttle pilot.”
Gori said nothing more, which suited Timran fine right then. He had had cut it a little close - although he was certainly low enough for fine-detail on the tapes. Now he concentrated on the landscape ahead, wild and rough as it was, and tried to antic.i.p.ate where the transport would land. There - that plateau. ”Look at that,” he breathed. ”A landing grid. A monster - ” The transport sank toward it, seeming even larger now that it was leaving its own element and coming to rest. cut it a little close - although he was certainly low enough for fine-detail on the tapes. Now he concentrated on the landscape ahead, wild and rough as it was, and tried to antic.i.p.ate where the transport would land. There - that plateau. ”Look at that,” he breathed. ”A landing grid. A monster - ” The transport sank toward it, seeming even larger now that it was leaving its own element and coming to rest.
He barely saw the movement - something small, but clearly made made, not natural - when a bolt of colored light from the transport reached out to it. ”Look out!” he yelled at Gori, and slammed his hand on the tractor beam control. The shuttle lurched, as the badly aimed beam grabbed for anything in its way. Tim's hands raced over the controls, bringing the shuttle to a near hover, and catching the distant falling object in the tractor beam just before it hit a low cliff.
”An airsled airsled!” breathed Gori. ”Oh G.o.ds, Tim, what have you done done!”
”Did you see those murderers?” His teeth were clenched as he worked the beam to set the airsled down as gently as possible. ”Those dirty, rotten, slimy - ”
”Tim! That's not the point! We're supposed to be invisible!”
All the latent romanticism burst free. ”We're Fleet! We just saved lives, that's what we're supposed to do.”
”That's not what the captain ordered us to do. Tim, you just told everyone, from the transport to whoever they're meeting, that we're here. That Fleet's here.”
”So ... so we'll just . . . mmm . . . we'll just tell them they're under arrest, for ... uh ... attempting to ...uh...”
”Illegal use of proscribed weaponry in a proscribed system is one charge you're looking for.” Gori was punching b.u.t.tons on his console. ”Kipling's copper Coms! The captain's going to be furious, and I've heard about her being furious. She's going to eat us alive, buddy, and it's all your fault.”
”She'd want us to save lives ...” Tim didn't sound quite so certain now. For one thing, that transport had lifted, and then settled itself firmly on the grid. He sent the shuttle forward again, slowly, and wondered whether to stand guard over the airsled or threaten the transport, or what. It had seemed so simple at the time . . .
The voice in his earplug left him in no doubt. ”I told you,” the captain's crisp voice said, ”to follow that transport down cautiously, with particular care not to be noticed. Did you understand that order?”
”Yes, ma'am, but - ”
”Yet I find that you have engaged a possibly hostile vessel, making sure that you would be noticed; you may have damaged Federation citizens - ” That wasn't fair at all; it was the crash that damaged them, and he hadn't caused the crash ... at least, he hadn't shot the airsled, although his handling of the tractor beam had been less than deft. ”Moreover, you've made it necessary for me to act - or abandon you, and if you were alone that would be a distinct temptation!” Gori smirked at this; he was getting the same tirade in his own earplug. ”Now that you've started a riot, young man, you'd better stay in control of things until I get there.”
”But how - ?” Tim began, but the com cut off. He was breathing fast, and felt cold. He looked over at Gori, no longer smirking. ”What do we do now?”
Gori, predictably, had a reference. ”Fleet Landing Force Directives, Chapter 17, paragraph 34.2 - ”
”I don't care where it is - what does it say?”
Gori went on, pale but determined, with his quotation. ”It says if the landing party - which is us - is outnumbered or outgunned, and Fleet personnel are in danger of capture or injury - ”
”They're civilians,” said Timran. As he said it he wondered - but surely anyone on planet had to be civilians, or they would have known Fleet was down here.
”Really? Those look like Fleet duty uniforms to me.” Gori had a magnifier to his eye. ”s.h.i.+pboard working . . . Anyway, when personnel are in danger of capture or injury, and the landing party is outnumbered, then the decision to withdraw must be made by the commander of the orbiting s.h.i.+p, unless such s.h.i.+p - ”
”She told us to stay here and stay in charge - ”
”So that's paragraph 34.3: In cases where rescue or protection of the Fleet personnel is deemed possible or of paramount importance, the pilot of the landing party shuttle will remain with the craft at all times, and the copilot will lead the rescue party - ”
”That's backwards!” said Tim, thinking of Gori's character.
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