The officer who’d spat before did so again. This time, as the bucket quivered with the hollow peevishness of titanium, the fellow said, “Bugger ’em!”
Others nodded. Not all did.
“There’ll be vessels on guard above Falassa as there were here, I presume?” Daniel said. Beside him, Adele had her personal data unit on the table beside her new pistol. The display was a pastel blur above the little box.
“Cutters on picket,” the Astrogator said. “That’s no problem—we’ll take care of them for you. It’s the Hammer that you’ll have to handle yourself. She’s a hulked cruiser, no masts but she has her High Drive and a full weapons suite. And her crew’ll be awake. With the noises Aretine’s making, they’ll figure that unless somebody here blows my head off, something’s going to happen on Falassa.”
He looked around the room, smiling grimly. “Nobody’s tried it here,” he said. “Yet.”
Daniel nodded twice while his mind finished its series of considerations. He exchanged glances with Adele; she nodded crisply. He didn’t know precisely what she meant by the gesture, but it was clearly positive.
“Very well,” Daniel said. “Astrogator Kelburney, as an officer of the RCN it’s my duty to eliminate a band of pirates operating against citizens of the Republic. I direct you under the terms of your treaty to aid me in this endeavor.”
“I said we’ll take out the pickets,” Kelburney said. “And you won’t have to worry about a thing on the ground. We’ll take care of that too.”
The spittoon rang again.
“That’s well and good,” Daniel said, sounding—deliberately sounding—like his father addressing clients who’d gotten in over their heads and begged his help. “There’ll be a few other items as well. First, you’ll have to embargo movement from Dalbriggan until it’s time to launch the operation. That may be several days.”
Kelburney’s brow furrowed momentarily at Daniel’s tone; then it cleared and he slapped the table. “Of course!” he said. “Do you think we’re children? We’ll party till it’s time to leave. Anybody who tries to get off-planet before then winds up in space without a suit. Is that all?”
“Not quite,” said Daniel, letting his own smile widen. He’d been concerned by the Dalbriggans’—by the pirates’—loose discipline, but that clearly didn’t extend to operational matters. “Officer Mundy here must have full access to any logs or other records that have information regarding the movements of the Hammer over the period she’s been in orbit. That would be several years?”
“Ten,” said Kelburney. “The Falassans bought her off of Umbro at scrap prices.”
“That should be a satisfactory sample,” Daniel said brightly. “We’ll get to work immediately, then.”
“She is a bloody cruiser,” said the officer who’d been spitting.
“Yes, and we are a corvette of the RCN,” said Daniel, rising to his feet. “I consider that a fair match.”
He beamed at the gathered pirates. He was boasting, of course; but if he hadn’t meant the words, he wouldn’t have spoken them.
* * *
The armored hatch of the Battle Direction Center squealed as it opened outward into Corridor C. Without taking her eyes from her console Adele said, “Are you blind or are you simply too stupid to read the sign on the door? Keep out!”
The hatch started to cycle closed again. Midshipman Vesey looked up big-eyed from the console to Adele’s left and said, “But mistress, that was the captain!”
Oh.
“Daniel!” Adele called to the slight opening which remained—a warship’s battle doors open and close with enthusiasm. “I’m sorry, I—”
She got up, bumped the edge of the console, and promptly fell on her face because both her legs were numb. She’d sat too long without moving. Dorst and Vesey were helping her to her feet when Daniel stuck his head into the compartment again.
“Adele?” he said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but . . .”
“Yes, I asked for your input,” Adele said, “and then snapped at you when you came to the door. I suppose I thought you’d reply through the display. Well, I didn’t think. I’m obviously not thinking clearly at all. I apologize.”
Her throat hadn’t been so dry since she’d fought her way out of an Alliance prison, breathing dust and air burned to ozone by electromotive weapons. She sounded terrible and probably looked worse. Dorst handed her a drinking bulb. She sucked deeply on it.