The Battle for Terra Two (26 page)

"That was fast," said L'Wrona. "One watch and N'Trol's removed the alien device? And tapped its secrets?"

"Get me N'Trol, K'Lana," said D'Trelna, looking at the screen. The destroyer stood well away from
Implacable,
Terra's moon large behind it.

"We're amazed at your speed, N'Trol," said D'Trelna as the engineer's face appeared. "You're certain that alien portal thing will work?"

Smiling, N'Trol held up a familiar black cube. "What alien thing?"

D'Trelna stared at it. "Imperial," he said, seeing it all. "Those killers are from the Machine Wars." He shook his head. "All these ageless, deadly toys roaming about. And those fools back home think it's safe again.

"How long before you can have that portal ready?"

"The drive influx setting's made," said N'Trol. "I just have to insert the cube."

"Do it."

"Yes, sir."

"N'Trol, we'll send you a relief ship as soon as a task force arrives. Just sit here with your shield up until then."

"Don't worry about us, Commodore," said N'Trol as D'Trelna switched off.

"That's the only time he's ever been civil to me," said D'Trelna. "Command must agree with him. Frightening."

They waited, watching the screen. It wasn't long before the portal returned, coming to life at the end of the gray beam.

"Battlestations, Captain L'Wrona," said D'Trelna, fingers drumming his chair arm. "And forward. Let's go get us a corsair."

"Marvelous ship," said K'Tran. "Wonderful how war spurs creativity." He stretched, luxuriating in the spacious bridge, the compact controls and most of all in the delightfully warm air.

"The finest and latest from Combine T'Lan," said A'Tir. She sat at the XO's station, scrolling through engineering specs. "Same old jump drive—they've just automated the hell out of it."

"We about ready?" he asked.

"Yes." She looked up. "Jump plotted and set. Navigation automatically reads jump point and engages drive. A few moments and we're on our way home."

K'Tran sat in the command chair, fingertips pressed together. "If I were Captain G'Ryn," he said, "I'd have broken out of
New Hope's
brig
..."

"Of course she has. We all but destroyed the locks."

"And would now be on the bridge, awaiting ship's status report." He punched up a tactical scan of the inner planets, hesitating for an instant over the new console.

The projection came on the screen. One bright green dot circled Earth. Another blip, red, marked the corsair speeding toward jump point. "There's the old barge," said K'Tran, not bothering with the targeting data. "G'Ryn's found the ship armed and operable. She'll be after us in a moment, murder in her heart."

As they watched, the green blip broke orbit, moving out.

Now he read the targeting data. "Coming right for us."

The green blip was gone, leaving only the red one marking the corsair's position.

"Good destruct," said A'Tir, going back to her reading.

The scan on the board changed to a larger scale, the planet Pluto in the center. Five more green blips were showing, just the other side of the planet, heading in. They and
Victory Day
were about to meet.

K'Tran stared at the targeting data. "Five heavy cruisers, just clearing jump point."

"Coming up on visual," said A'Tir, watching the board.

Five long, gray ships moved in close formation, surrounded by the faint glow of shields. They were L'Aals, the same class as
Implacable,
resurrected Imperial war machines that could turn
Victory Day
to scrap in minutes. They vanished as the cruiser shot past their formation.

"If we jump now, we'll only deviate two percent from ideal."

"They're challenging," said S'Kal from the commstation.

"Let's go for jump optimum," said K'Tran. "It's spring back at our little hideaway. Can't catch the last of the planting festival if we deviate.

"S'Kal, send a battlecode burst. 'Leaving system under special orders. Scan-shielded enemy flotilla in pursuit.' "

"You're amazing, Y'Dan," said A'Tir as the red-bearded corsair made the transmission. "You flirt with destruction so you can watch straw-skirted girls dance the planting."

"A short but happy life." He smiled. "We all need to get away from ships for a while, breathe pollinated air, feel the warm wind in our faces."

"And then?"

"And then
...
the universe awaits."

S'Kal laughed, turning to K'Tran. "Task force commander acknowledges and requests last known position of scan-shielded flotilla."

The jump alert sounded, two long blasts of the klaxon.

"Tell him zero point," said K'Tran. Zero point was the standard reference for the heart of a system's star.

K'Tran opened shipwide commlink. "All personnel, stand by for jump. We're going home."

"So, he got away?" said Zahava, nibbling a chocolate croissant. She sat curled up on the sofa, her elegant dancer's legs tucked beneath her.

"Clean away," said John, tossing another log into the fire. On the other side of the living room's French doors, an early December snowstorm was covering their patio furniture.

John rose, dusting his hands.

"And the machine things?" she asked as he sat down beside her.

"Gone—for now," he said, finishing his coffee. "If they're Imperial
..."

"They are."

"Then how can they be the machines that killed the Trel, millions of years before the Empire?"

"If they're the same," he said, "the only way to find out is by going to the Trel cache—where we were supposed to be going when this madness started."

"Sorry I missed it."

He pulled her close, an arm around her shoulders. "I missed you," he said, kissing her.

"It's a cold day," she said after a while.

"Heat rises. It'll be warmer in the bedroom."

They were halfway up the old oak stairway when someone pounded on the front door knocker, ignoring the bell.

"I'll get rid of the sadistic creep and be right back," said John. Letting go of her hand, he went down and opened the door, letting in a rush of cold air and snow.

"J'Quel!"

D'Trelna filled the doorway, a stout snowman in hooded white survival jacket and battle boots.

"Sell you a weather-control unit?" he said, stamping his feet.

"Come in!"

Zahava bounded down the stairs. "J'Quel!" He hugged her. "Long time, Zahava. You're looking well."

"Let me take your jacket," said John. The commodore shook his head. "No time. I've been trying to reach you all day."

"I was picking Zahava up at the airport."

"So McShane said."

"Do you two still want to go on the Trel Expedition?"

They exchanged puzzled glances. "Of course."

"Good. We're leaving now. I've got a shuttle over in Lincoln Park. Get what personal things you want to bring— the Fleet of the Republic will provide clothing and toiletries."

Twenty minutes later they were trudging unplowed streets, overnight bags in hand. "What's the rush?" asked Zahava. The snow was ending with the day, the sun trying to briefly appear.

"The cruiser K'Tran pirated was assigned to the Trel Expedition," said D'Trelna. "It has a full mission briefing in its computer, including coordinates. We have to get there before he does."

The two men stood on the roof of the CIA building, looking across the river to the city. Low in the east, between the clouds, the first stars were appearing. In the grove beyond the parking lot, an owl hooted.

Suddenly the younger man grabbed the other's arm.

"There!" said Sutherland, pointing to where a shuttle rose above the city. It crossed the Potomac, coming in low and fast over the CIA complex. Passing the roof, it barrel rolled, then climbed high, silver hull catching the brilliant red sunset.

The two found themselves waving.

"God go with them," said McShane, as the shuttle vanished.

"Amen," said Sutherland.

"Buy you a drink, Bob?"

"Certainly."

They went inside, leaving the night to the snow and the stars.