Timothy Zahn - Cobra Bargain

There it was. Taking a deep breath, Jin hunched forward and tentatively touched the switch. "What are you doing?" Akim demanded suspiciously.

"You remember, Miron Akim, how surprised we were that Obolo Nardin would panic this early?" she asked. The volume control... there. Microphone?... clipped to the wall over there. "We wondered why both he and the Trofts would throw away their listening ear when there couldn't possibly be any enemies on their way here yet?" she added, working the mike free of its clip and gripping it awkwardly between palm and thumb.

"I remember," Akim growled. "Are you leading up to giving us the answer?"

"I hope so." She took a deep breath. If she was wrong... Raising the mike to her lips, she touched the operating switch. "This is Jasmine Moreau," she said in

Anglic. "Repeating, this is Jasmine Moreau. Please respond. This is Jasmine

Moreau; please respond. This is Jasmine-"

And abruptly the board speaker boomed in reply. "This is Captain Koja; commanding the Dewdrop. We read you, Cobra Moreau, and we're ready to come down and pick you up."

It took Jin three tries to relax her throat enough to speak again. "Understood,

Dewdrop," she managed at last. "I-" she glanced up to see Akim gazing darkly at her. "Please tie in your Qasaman language translator."

There was a slight pause from the other end. "Why?"

"I have some Qasamans here with me," Jin explained, switching back to their language herself. "I think they ought to be in on the discussion."

"Who are you talking to?" Akim demanded.

"An Aventinian ship," Jin told him. "Here to rescue me. Captain, are you still in orbit?"

"Yes." The word was Qasaman, the voice the artificial one of a translator program. "Where are you?-wait a minute, the head of the rescue team wants to get in on the conversation."

"Jin?" a familiar voice said in accented Qasaman... a voice fairly dripping with relief. "Jin, it's Dad. Are you all right?"

Jin felt her mouth drop open. "Dad! Yes, yes, I'm fine. You-but-"

"What, you didn't think I'd drop everything to come get my daughter back? Oh,

God, Jin-look, where are you?"

"In that covered compound west of Azras-Mangus, they call it. Wait a minute, though, you can't come down just yet."

"Why not?"

"You might run into a hunter/seeker missile. Courtesy of the Trofts whose ship

I'm talking to you from."

There was a long pause. "We were wondering how you'd gotten on this frequency," the Dewdrop translator said at last. "What in blazes are Trofts doing there?"

"At the moment, trying to get us out of their bridge so that they can airlift some Qasaman allies to safety."

"Allies? You mean the Trofts and Qasamans have made an alliance?"

"No, no, it's not that bad. There's nothing official about this; it was a private deal with some Qasaman thugs making a power play."

"A power play which may yet succeed," Akim muttered.

Jin glanced up at him. "Yeah, right. The problem, Dad, is that we've got to find a safe passage out of here for the three of us and at the same time make sure

Mangus's owners don't get away before the Qasaman rulers can deal with them."

"Now, wait a minute, Jin," Justin said cautiously. "We'll get you and your friends out, certainly, but the rest of it sounds like internal politics.

Nothing we ought to get involved with."

Jin took a deep breath. "We're already involved, Dad, just by my presence here.

Please just trust me on this one."

"Jin-"

"Cobra Moreau, this is Koja," the translator interrupted him, "Let's table this discussion until you're safe, all right? Now, you said you were on the bridge?"

"Yes, and we're sort of trapped-"

"Can you describe the ship? Is it a warship, or what?"

"From the way the crew fights, I doubt it. Let's see: the ship's got a large cargo/engineering section with sagging swept-forward wings over twin drive nacelles. The front section looked like a pretty standard flat-steeple command module, and there's a long neck connecting the two sections. No identification marks anywhere I could see."

"Okay. I'll see if we've got anything on this design on file."

"Jin?" Justin's voice came back on. "This is Dad. Now, you say you're trapped on the bridge?"

"Yeah, and they're trying to burn up to us through the emergency blast hatch. I can fight them if necessary, but I'd prefer it if we could find a way to convince the commander to just let us go."

"It's worth a try. Can you tie him in to us?"

Jin peered at the board again. "Hang on..."

[That will not be necessary,] a burst of catertalk cut in. [I have been listening.]

"I thought you might be," Jin said, only lying a little. "In Qasaman, please,

Commander-as I told the Dewdrop, my companions need to hear all this, too."

There was a momentary pause. "Very well," the Troft's translator voice said. "I will listen, but you must realize that I cannot allow you to escape."

"Why not?" Justin asked.

"Our demesne-lord's agreement with the Qasaman Obolo Nardin will come to nothing if his plan is ruined."

"The plan's already ruined," Jin told him. "How are you going to get your allies into your ship for transport, now that I've sealed off the cargo section? And where are they going to stay during the ride?"

"Foolish human! How many other ways into our ship do you think there are?"

"Several," Jin agreed. "But you really don't want to let them see the areas you'd have to take them through. True?"

"The Qasamans can learn nothing from a casual glimpse of our equipment."

"Maybe. But if you're wrong, the Qasamans might advance a little too quickly... possibly quickly enough to break your grip on them before you have a strong enough puppet government in place. Is your demesne-lord willing to take that chance?"

"It is a negligible risk," the Troft insisted.

"Perhaps," the Dewdrop's translator put in. "Let's put it another way, then.

Would your demesne-lord be willing to let an entire Crane-class starcarrier fall into Qasaman hands?"

For a long moment there was silence; and in that hiatus, a keen awareness of her body's condition seemed to flood into Jin's consciousness. Awareness of the throbbing ache in the stiff fingers of both hands-of the burning sensation in her left ankle from excessive use of her antiarmor laser-of an even more painful burning along her ribcage where one of the laser shots fired earlier must have come closer than she'd realized. Her eyes drifted around the bridge, and she realized for the first time just how much equipment was really here. Would she have the ability and stamina to systematically destroy all of it if she had to?

Because that was the only realistic threat they had to bargain with.

And the Troft commander clearly knew it. "Our ship can be flown without the use of the bridge," he said at last.

"Oh, certainly," the Dewdrop agreed. "Most ships can. But not very easily.

Besides which, the bridge isn't the only thing in danger here. There's a sensor bubble directly over her head, for one thing-it wouldn't take all that much for her to punch through to that. Oh, now there's an interesting idea," Koja interrupted his own thought. "If your ship follows standard design, there should be parallel connections between all your sensors for making synchronity checks.

A good jolt of high voltage along that connector cable might just take out every navigation sensor you have on the ship."

"Ridiculous," the Troft snorted.

"Maybe. There's one sure way to find out."

Again the Troft was silent. "You may have the Cobra," he said at last. "If she will leave the ship now, she will be allowed safe passage away from here. The

Qasamans with her may not leave, though."