NATHANIEL EASED THE drives on line, then completed the checklist before squaring himself in the pilot’s couch and triggering the comm. “New Avalon orbit control, this is Coordinate ship Adam Smith, breaking orbit this time. Breaking orbit this time.”
“Coordinate vessel Smith, cleared outbound, radial zero nine five, remain within the orange until past beacon three. Request you remain at point one zero delta vee until clear of the home zone.”
“Stet, control, holding point one zero on zero nine five this time. Point one zero on zero nine five this time.” Nathaniel glanced toward the second seat where Sylvia sat monitoring his actions, trying to get some basic understanding of the board. He turned his head toward the engineering board.
LuAn nodded. “Everything’s in the green.”
Nathaniel stretched, but continued to scan the boards and the shipnets. While the basic layout was familiar, neither the scope and size of the ship were, and he would need a better feel before he had to implement his contingency plan.
“Feels like…it’s big,” added Swersa.
“That’s the point. We need a big ship,” Nathaniel said. The newly named Smith was big enough that there were different grav-field generators for the bridge-cockpit, and for the rest of the ship—a definite energy-saving measure for the big cargo-carrier.
Sylvia frowned.
“Coordinate ship Smith, this is orbit control. Interrogative destination. Interrogative destination.”
It was Nathaniel’s turn to frown. He wasn’t about to reveal their interim or ultimate destination, but what plausible destination could he provide? Then he grinned. “Herzogov three. Herzogov three is immediate destination.” A destination of the military core of the Federated Hegemony should create a little stir.
“Understand Herzogov three, Smith.”
“That is affirmative. Herzogov three.”
“Thank you, Smith. Pleasant jumps.”
The Ecolitan pilot went back to the boards and began a thorough scan of the systems, taking his time as he did, and interspersing his check-out with continued scans of the comm bands and the EDI. He didn’t want any more deep space surprises, not after their experiences with the Gallia.
Nearly a stan later, he leaned back in the couch and wiped his forehead.
“All right. I’ve waited. Can you two let me in on the big secret?” asked Swersa.
“Yes. Sorry I haven’t been too communicative, but I figured there’d be time to explain along the way.” Nathaniel checked the EDIs—nothing headed their way, and a clear corridor to an out-system jump. “And there will be. We’ve got another three until jump point.”
Swersa turned to face Nathaniel directly.
“In simple terms, we’re going to destroy the Fuard High Command.”
Swersa’s jaw dropped. “With what? This is a cargo ship.”
“Exactly. And we’re going to visit a graveyard.”
“A graveyard?”
“A place called Sligo. The Empire fragmented it four hundred years ago. You may recall…”
Swersa nodded. “I trained there, but that was years ago, and even then…”
“There’s a lot of free metal hanging around.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like this.” Swersa paused. “And just how are you going to turn this cargo hulk into a warship?”
“I’m not. I’m going to turn it into the biggest high-speed torp ever launched.”
The older Ecolitan paled.
“I don’t like it, either,” Nathaniel admitted. “But the Fuards are on the fringe of starting a war between Accord and the Empire, plus a civil war on Artos. The civil war will allow them to take Artos, and begin to turn New Avalon into a protectorate. The Empire can’t respond, not with the animosity created toward Accord, and not with three major fleets being shifted away from the Three System Bulge toward Sector Five.”
“Just how will devastating the Conglomerate High Command stop this war? That’s assuming you can even pull off this miracle.”
“It will be a disaster, not a miracle,” confessed Whaler. “I calculate that it will bring home three points. First, that Accord can create vast destruction without use of a single known armed vessel. Second, that governments should not be allowed to manipulate others into fighting their wars, not and get away with it. And third, that Accord is impartial enough to rescue the Empire, since the Coordinate can obtain absolutely no advantage from this, economic or military.” The pilot smiled. “Except to prevent an unnecessary war.”
“Won’t the Conglomerate…”
“They can’t really get to Accord, except through the Empire, or the other major outsystems, or by taking incredibly out-of-the-way jumps, which won’t leave them with much energy to spare,” pointed out Sylvia.
“Plus, it’s very hard to carry out a war when you have no coordination and command structure left.” Not to mention high collateral damage, he added to himself. Would he be part of the collateral damage? There was an awfully high risk of that.
“I don’t know.” LuAn touched her chin. “I don’t know.”
“Would you let a Fuardian fleet jump through your space? That’s also assuming that they’re going to want to after all the information about their little covert war is spread to every intelligence service in the human Galaxy,” added Sylvia.
“Will the Empire believe this?” asked Swersa.
“The I.I.S. already does, but it can’t change things under the current political climate,” answered Sylvia.
“In short, the mob still wants to whack the Coordinate, and the Fuards are somehow encouraging them.”
“I think that sums it up,” acknowledged Nathaniel.
Swersa turned to Sylvia. “How many links to what you two do have?”
“Enough,” answered Sylvia. “Enough.”
“When I got that message from the Prime, I was worried.” LuAn grimaced. “I don’t think I understood how much I should have worried.”
There wasn’t much either of the other Ecolitans could have said, and they didn’t.
Nathaniel dropped back into the shipnets, trying to improve his feel for the huge cargo boat.