Stephen Berry - Final Assault

"How's McShane?" asked John.

"The old codger's well," said Sutherland. "I got a postcard from him last month. Bought a big sailing ketch, hired a crew and took the kids and grandkids off to the South Pacific." Bob McShane, a retired professor, had been with John, Zahava and Sutherland since Implacable first reached Terra, playing a decisive role in both the Biofab War and the battle for Terra Two.

"So tell me, how did you acquire this homey ship?" asked Sutherland, leaning against one of the consoles.

"Ask Zahava," said John. "She took it. I just wandered around lost, playing tag with those flying blades the AIs use for security."

Sutherland looked at Zahava.

"We stormed it," said the Israeli. "One assault team infiltrated, took out the shield power, my group came in and stormed the Tower, pulling out the AI gun crews, then D'Trelna brought Implacable in and it was all over."

Sutherland snapped his fingers. "Just like that?" he said with a grin.

"Not really," said a new voice.

This time the long-barreled blasters came out of their holsters as Guan-Sharick appeared, standing on the other side of the nearest consoles. The blonde ignored the blasters, looking instead at Sutherland. "They came under fierce blaster fire and nerve gas attack. Zahava's assault force sustained over seventy percent casualties, John and L'Wrona's over ninety-percent. R'Gal was badly wounded. And still they were lucky."

"Long time," said Sutherland softly. "I'd hoped you were dead."

"I'm on the side of the angels now," said the blonde, walking around the console, "or haven't you heard?"

"And I'm a Trotskyite," said the CIA director.

"What I did on Terra," said the transmute, green eyes looking into Sutherland's a meter away, "was necessary. What I did to galactic humanity by instigating the Biofab War was necessary-a vital conditioning exercise." She shook her head, throwing the long golden strands back over the shoulder of her white jumpsuit.

"You wiped out much of galactic humanity," said John. "A lot of people want a piece of you."

The blonde looked at him, a beautiful young face with old, old eyes. "Nothing can be done to me that hasn't already been done, Harrison. Believe me." Her gaze shifted to a blank screen, seeing something the other three couldn't. "To be honest, I don't expect to survive this mad expedition. Death would be a welcome release."

Guan-Sharick looked back at the three Terrans. "S'Yatan, the captain of the Victory Day, is an AI," she said briskly. "He's making off with the portal device and will reach jump point before we can overtake him. I can, however, transport two of you and myself to his inhospitable bridge and do battle with the slime. Like that," added the transmute, snapping her fingers.

Sutherland was suddenly alone in the observatory. He stood perfectly still for a moment, then shook his head, lips pursed, and left the room.

On the screen, the image of Terra was just another dim point of light.

"Cci works flawlessly," said Dad as another small asteroid shattered from a red fusion beam.

"Make for final jump point," L'Wrona ordered the computer. The asteroid belt was a well-known target practice area, just off the principal ship path from K'Ronar to U'Tria. Three jump points-those unseen but well-charted points from which a ship could jump most accurately to another specified point -lay behind them, one ahead. It was here the captain expected trouble-even looked forward to it. After ten years of battlecruisers, he was reveling in the immediate response his hands brought from the sleek little ship, the almost forgotten thrill of piloting a one-man scout. Only the lack of his father's voice would have made it more enjoyable. Why ever did he impress his persona on the computer? wondered L'Wrona, not for the first time. Did he really think he was doing me a favor, or did he do it for himself, assuaging some secret guilt about being away so much when I was young?

Just before the war, after an especially long and argumentative trip aboard Toy, L'Wrona had consulted a ship's cyberneticist about having his father's persona and voice removed from Toy's computer. The man had glanced at the system specs, then at the programming overlay specs. "Voice is no problem," he'd said. "The personality, though.. ." He'd shaken his head. "Might as well scrap the whole system and start with fresh gear."

"How much?"

The cyberneticist shook his head again. "Can't get a replacement-system specs are unique to this series-start substituting, you're asking for big trouble a long way from home. You'd have to find another O'Lan in private berth, buy it and switch hardware -seeing as how you've made certain modifications." His finger delicately traced the schematic of the CCI interface.

Then the war had started, U'Tria had fallen and L'Wrona had forgotten all about it-until now.

"A ship has just appeared at jump point," said Dad. "ID'd as a nova-class Fleet destroyer."

The projection appeared on the tacscan -the red of the destroyer moving toward the green of Toy as it approached the pulsing red circle of the jump point.

"Ship-to-ship," said the computer.

A man's face appeared in the commscreen, the silver starships of a captain on his collar. He was in his middle years, graying at the temples-and he looked most unhappy. He nodded at L'Wrona. "My Lord," he said with a faint nod. "Captain Z'Than, commanding A'Lan's Hope. We are ordered by FleetOps to take your ship aboard and return with you to K'Ronar."

L'Wrona's hand tapped the joystick, taking Toy off automatic, moving the ship forward at standard. "I invoke the immunity of the Covenant," he said. On the tacscan, the distance between the two ships was quickly shrinking.

"I'm sorry, but they said you'd do that," said Z'Than, "and that it was a procedural matter best decided by a tribunal. As a Line officer, I am merely to bring you in."

A line of text appeared beneath the captain's image, moving slowly across the screen. "H'Nar. He's armed his weapons batteries. Tacscan locking on. Touch your left earlobe if you want me to open fire now, while we still have a chance."

L'Wrona kept his left hand on the chairarm. "Z'Than," said the margrave. "You're from U'Tria, aren't you?"

The captain nodded.

"Do you have a signed order from Fleet ordering my arrest?"

"I have verbal authorization, My Lord." Even in the small pickup, L'Wrona could see the sweat on the other's brow. He and his family had been liegemen of the margrave since before the Fall.

"You can only bring me in with an order signed by the Grand Admiral, or an order signed by the full Council. Do you have either?"

Z'Than shook his head.

"Then get out of my way, sir. As first ship insystem, we have prior navigation rights. You are between us and our jump point." gods! h'nar, jump now! flashed the screen. deviation will be only. 00032. we can make it up in a few weeks.

"Cut your engines and prepare to be taken in on tractors," said Z'Than. On the tacscan, what little space there was between the two ships was vanishing. L'Wrona could see the destroyer through the armorglass now, a mile-long black hull bristling with weapons turrets and instrument pods. They were within seconds of colliding.

"Too easy," said L'Wrona. Pulling up on the stick, he sent the scout knifing up and over the destroyer's bridge, down along its hull and then off toward jump point, the big tri-tubed engines shrinking in the rearscan.

The destroyer commander's image vanished as the commlink broke. "He's switched off," said Dad as L'Wrona moved the scout up to flank speed. "And he's suspended weapons tracking. You won."

Reaching jump point, L'Wrona engaged the drive, feeling his stomach churn as space twisted in that crazy, familiar way, then it was over-they were in U'Tria system. Home.