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The tension aboard Aswan Trader seemed like a living entity hovering over them as Fenrir steered her into a narrow fjord-like inlet between two jagged islands covered in dense vegetation. Everyone aboard stood to.
Fenrir had stationed half a dozen sailors in the bow and foremast top looking for signs of shoals that could puncture the barquentine’s hull while the rest, Brethren included, scanned the shores for Saqqaran pirates. Everyone was armed with Horam and his sharpshooters carrying the precious railguns.
They’d been moving under engine power only since Fenrir decided on a hiding place, the topmasts and sails stricken below, leaving her strangely bare. But as he’d remarked when his first mate made a comment, they might as well get used to it. The days of sail would eventually end as Thebes refined engine technology with Lyonesse's help.
The surrounding air was still and the heat more stifling than ever. Yet, the sounds of countless native life forms trilling, snapping, chuckling, and otherwise communicating with each other provided a measure of reassurance that no humans waited in ambush.
Finally, Fenrir disengaged the propeller and signaled his first mate he should stand by with the anchor. The instant forward motion ceased, he raised his balled fist.
A loud splash silenced the wildlife, though the crew and passengers remained watchful until the usual sounds of a busy jungle reached their ears once more.
“This is as good as it gets,” Fenrir said in a soft tone pitched for Rianne’s ears. “I don’t think we’ll find any true overhead cover, but they’ll only see us if they pass directly above this inlet.”
“Make sure you dampen the Stirling engine, so it doesn’t look like a big heat flare on any infrared sensors.” When Fenrir gave her a blank stare, she smiled. “If the Hegemony has starships, it certainly can detect heat signatures that differ from background emissions. Perhaps Horam can explain in greater detail once we’re settled in.”
Fenrir let out a sigh, shaking his head.
“All this technology. It’s enough to give an honest sailor a brain cramp. Now, please excuse me while I discuss the guard roster with my first mate.”
“Make sure everyone understands if off-worlders show up, we surrender without firing a shot,” Horam warned. “They’ll be better armed, likely armored, and supported by their dropships’ heavy weapons.”
“No worries. We’re not suicidal.”
**
Petty Officer Klaasen stuck his head out of the shuttle, eyes searching for Torma. One of the troopers noticed him and ambled over, raising his helmet visor.
“Are you looking for someone, PO?”
“The colonel. Repulse is on the secure link with our search results, and I’d rather not break radio silence by using the company push.”
“Hang on. Last I saw, he, my boss, and Sister Ardrix were together.” The trooper jogged across the landing zone and vanished behind one of the two other dropships.
Less than a minute later, Torma, Ardrix, and Vinh appeared and hurried over.
“I understand Repulse is calling?” Torma asked when they were within earshot.
“Flag CIC, Colonel. They have data on our next two targets.”
Klaasen led them through the passenger compartment and into the flight deck, which felt a bit crowded with four, but both Ardrix and Vinh needed to hear this. He slipped into his seat and touched the controls.
“Repulse, this is command ship Fury. I have the Niner.”
Moments later, the flight deck’s primary display lit up with the Task Force Kruzenshtern chief of staff’s face.
“Colonel, I’m sending you the results of our latest scans. Once you’ve digested it, the commodore would like a back brief. If you’re ready, I’ll give you a quick verbal report.”
“Ready.”
“First, the surface vessel. We found a last known position based on scans of the area taken earlier today but cannot detect it anymore. We suspect the people aboard saw us when we were on final approach this morning and made for the shore where they found shelter. They can only be along a limited stretch of coast, either on the Aksum side or among the Saqqara Islands. The latter is more likely because of its numerous fjords and inlets. Our sensors are still looking. You should see the latest results and our estimate of where she could be hiding in the command ship’s database by now.”
Torma inclined his head.
“Thank you.”
“We’re much clearer on the situation in Thebes.” An aerial view of a port city replaced the chief of staff. “There’s a strong power emissions source coming from the structure south of town, on a relatively tall hill. We think it could be where the old Order established a priory during the imperial rule. It is the strongest source on the planet and indicates someone is operating at an advanced level of technology.”
“The Lyonesse Mission,” Ardrix said.
“That’s what we figure, Sister. A high-tech node on a low-tech planet is the sort of anomaly we’re looking for. Since they aren’t taking much care to hide their emissions, we think their people on the ship we seek can’t communicate with them, which means they likely have no inkling of our presence on this planet.”
Major Vinh let out a soft grunt.
“An unsuspecting target means perfect conditions for a quick in-and-out raid.”
“Indeed,” the chief of staff replied. “It’s late afternoon there at the moment, which means you can easily arrange for a strike after dark.”
A grin played on the Special Forces officer’s lips.
“Even better.”
“It still gets better than that, Major. There’s a cleared area behind the priory, which I’m marking in red.” A red square appeared on the aerial image. “It is of a size and shape that suggests they use this as a shuttle pad. An outpost requires regular resupply of those items that can’t be procured locally, and I daresay the list of such items is probably quite long. Based on our calculations, there’s room for at least two dropships, perhaps even three. The intelligence on this target is now in the command ship’s database as well. Any questions?”
Torma glanced at Ardrix and Vinh in turn, but both shook their heads.
“Let us study what you sent and figure out a plan of action. If we need more information, I’ll call. Otherwise, the next time you hear from us will be to brief the commodore.”
“And the surface ship?”
“Unless the commodore decides otherwise, I think we should keep looking but consider it a target of opportunity. Seizing the Lyonesse Brethren in Thebes is our primary aim.”
“Understood, Colonel.”
“Torma, out.” He glanced at Vinh. “It’s your show, Major. I’m merely the passenger who’ll bear the blame if things go sideways, no more. Take the time you need. Afterward, we can discuss options at leisure.”
“It won’t take long, sir. We’re not going in against heavy opposition. Land a platoon along with your ship, surround the priory, and enter. I doubt anyone will fight back, which leaves separating the Lyonesse folks from any locals who might be working with them.” Vinh glanced at Ardrix. “Sister?”
“A simple task. Our basic training has not changed much over the centuries. I expect we can recognize each other because of it. If any try to hide, I’ll find them.”
“What if they resist, Colonel?”
Ardrix raised a hand.
“They won’t. If I know my kind, even a branch that split off two centuries ago, their curiosity will overcome their reticence. That and concern we might harm others to pressure them, but please keep the latter option in reserve until I say so.”
“As you say, Sister. Should we arrange our arrival for a specific time?”
“They’ll likely keep the same canonical hours as we, which means they’ll be abed after compline, except for those working the night shift, and that, at least in our houses, is twenty-one hundred hours. So perhaps close to midnight local time would be good.”
Vinh frowned.
“What is compline?”
“We observe several services a day, and compline is the one where Brethren gather in the Chapter House one last time before bed.”
“Which means they’ll all be together. Perhaps we could determine when it’s twenty-one hundred hours local in Thebes and strike at that time.”
Ardrix seemed taken aback by the suggestion they invade a priory of the Order, even the old one, during a sacred service.
“Look, Sister. Anything that makes our task easier means fewer chances of folks getting hurt.” When she nodded, he said, “May I suggest we reopen the link with Repulse and see if they can pinpoint both the Chapter House’s location and confirm the local time?”
**
“After the excitement of attempting to vanish, this is a bit anticlimactic,” Fenrir remarked as he joined Rianne at the taffrail. “Although I can’t remember the last time I was this soaked with sweat. Give me the breeze of the open sea over this stuffy, still air.”
“No arguments here. Still, it could be worse. The local version of insects could have developed a taste for humans and be eating us alive right now.”
“True. Any idea how long we should hide?”
Rianne gave him a helpless shrug.
“I discussed it with Horam earlier, and we really don’t know. It depends on how persistent they are. If they’re genuinely interested in us, their sensors will continuously watch the Saqqara Sea, which means they might well catch us leaving this inlet.”
“Did you warn your superiors in Thebes yet?”
“I tried this morning but couldn’t raise them. Shortwave radio works best at night. But that’s our other dilemma. Using the transmitter could give us away.”
A humorless smile crossed Fenrir’s lips.
“Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, as we sailors say.”
“If the intent of these Hegemony people is seizing anyone from Lyonesse, then either Thebes or Horam and I must stay free, so we can warn Lyonesse when the next supply ship arrives. Sure, it would be better if we could warn Thebes so they might hide, even if it means Horam and I surrender ourselves. Unfortunately, if we start transmitting and Thebes can’t pick up our signal, everyone might be in jeopardy, and we must inform Lyonesse via the next supply ship.”
“Again, you’re assuming ill intent, Sister.” Fenrir sounded a tad exasperated.
“Lyonesse learned to lean on the side of paranoia long ago, and for a good reason. If another space-faring polity now knows about our existence, it is vital, on an existential level, that Lyonesse be warned. Either the Brethren in Thebes or we must perform that sacred duty.”
“If the Hegemony comes for the Brethren in Thebes, the entire republic will know and warn your supply ship crew.”
Horam, who’d caught Fenrir’s last line, came up the aft stairs.
“Our Lyonesse Marines can seize a target at night without the civilians in the area being any the wiser, Captain. It would be prudent if we assume the Hegemony can do the same, seeing how we’re probably both descended from the old Imperial Armed Services. The Marines back in the day were no slouches, especially Pathfinders like my old outfit.”
“I gather you’re speaking from experience.”
The Friar nodded.
“On a planet like this one, they’ll go in after dark when the locals can’t see what’s happening, and tomorrow morning, poof, the Brethren are gone with no one the wiser.” He turned to Rianne. “And that means we would be the only ones left who can warn our people, which makes staying free even more imperative. No more attempts at contacting the priory via shortwave.”
“I’ve made the same conclusion. Now, all we can do is pray they don’t find us.”
“Should they visit Thebes tonight, then perhaps while their attention is elsewhere, we might sneak out of here and head further north, skirting the coast. Tell me, captain, is there a way of transforming this ship into a two-master without breaking it?”
Fenrir shook his head.
“No. Only a shipyard can remove a lower mast safely. We’ve taken down the topmasts to lower her silhouette, and that’s everything we can do.”
“Is there a way of disguising, say, the mizzen mast and make it look like anything but? I’m thinking our visitors might not be well versed on sailing ships in general and totally ignorant of the ones used on Hatshepsut. We can be sure Crimple told them Aswan Trader was three-masted, and that means they’ll have programmed their intelligence data filtering program to disregard anything with less or more than three.” Horam snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Can you rig the foremast’s lower spar so it looks like a fourth mast?”
“Sure. We can make it seem so from a distance or to an untrained eye, but we can’t actually rig it with sails.”
“Since we’ll be running under engine power, it won’t matter.” Horam glanced up at the sky. “Best if we can do that and leave this place before dark, say around last light. Sensors in orbit are marvelous things. They can spot a fly on a bald man’s dome from four hundred kilometers up, but they’re only as good as the artificial or human intelligence interpreting the data they collect. A four-masted ship emerging from the islands at dusk might fool said intelligence long enough if they used three masts as a primary search parameter.”
Fenrir contemplated the Friar for a few heartbeats before shrugging.
“I’m not sure I understand everything you said. But spending the night out at sea instead of here makes complete and utter sense. Fine. Let’s turn Aswan Trader into a ghost whose four masts are too unbelievably truncated for any real Theban sailor.”
“We’re not dealing with Theban sailors, Captain, but off-worlders in faster-than-light starships. They don’t know a barquentine from a schooner from a ketch. It’s a matter of creating an illusion.”
After a curt nod, Fenrir called out orders and soon watched his crew create a believable fourth mast from the foremast’s main spar. When it was done, he and Friar Horam took the Stirling engine-powered launch and circled Aswan Trader so they could inspect the transformation from a distance.
After they scrambled up the side ladder, leaving the launch afloat to pull Aswan Trader out of the inlet once the sun dropped below the islands’ jagged peaks, Horam nodded at his colleagues.
“In the dark, even studying it through a millimetric sensor, I’m sure I’d be hard-pressed to make her as a disguised three-master. Perception is everything, and from the far end of the inlet, if I didn’t know the extra mast hard up against the engine stack was fake, I’d take it for real.”
“And now, we should pray our fuel reserves will get us back where we can head into the open ocean under a full press of sails and no off-worlders nosing about.”
“The Almighty will provide, Captain.”
“And I’m counting on you four Brethren to make sure he does.” A half-mocking smile briefly relaxed his tense features. “Our escape might convince me I should consider something other than the nihilism of my forebears.”
“Faith isn’t transactional, but you will know when you find it.”