Timothy Zahn - Angelmass

She got the blast doors at the far end opened and passed through a mirror-image layout of supply rooms and crew quarters until she arrived at the proper access ladder and climbed down to the net control complex. A quick glance at the monitors to confirm that Forsythe and EmDef weren't yet coming through the net, and she began to go down the boards, systematically throwing every switch.

Two minutes later, the boards and monitors were totally dark. So was that entire half of the station.

Groping her way along in the dim glow of the emergency lighting system, she headed back.

She reached the catapult control complex to find Kosta seated at one of the stations, gazing at a display and flipping back and forth between what looked to be at least three different instruction manuals. "Net's down," she reported. "How's it going here?"

"Slow," he said, not looking up. "In order to recalibrate for Angelmass, it seems I need a crash course in catapult theory."

"Great," Chandris said. "How long?"

"Call it an hour. Maybe a little less."

"And then we still have the actual reprogramming to do?"

Kosta nodded. "I'd guess another thirty to sixty minutes on top of that for the programming and the fine-tuning of the charge on the catapult's capacitors."

"So we'd better count on this taking a full two hours."

"Right." Kosta looked significantly across the room. "I just hope we've got that long."

Chandris followed his gaze, to a monitor showing the blazing speck that was Angelmass bearing inexorably down on them. Staring at the display, she could have sworn she could see the black hole visibly gaining on them. An optical illusion, of course. "What can I do?"

He rubbed his forehead. "How are you at electronic tech stuff?"

"I learned the Gazelles systems in three days."

"Close enough." He gestured to the chair beside him. "First thing you need to do is find out how to shut off the Seraph net from here—the last thing we want is to send Angelmass into a low planetary orbit. After that, start learning the mechanics of the reprogramming procedure. Once I've got the physics and math figured out, I don't want to have to wade through a tech manual, too."

"Got it," she said, sliding into the chair. Pulling up the procedures manual, she glanced again at Angelmass.

It was an optical illusion, of course. It had to be.

"The moment has come, Commodore," Telthorst said, his eyes steady on Lleshi's face, his voice just a few stages too loud. "If you're going to launch a fighter screen to protect the Komitadji, you need to do it now."

"Thank you, Mr. Telthorst," Lleshi said, striving to keep the disgust out of his voice. As far as Lleshi was concerned, the decision had been made several hours ago. Telthorst's question was nothing but a pathetically obvious challenge, an attempt to make points with the command crew for his upcoming power bid. Who among them, after all, could possibly argue against anything that would help ensure the Komitadji's safety?

But Lleshi wasn't going to play Telthorst's game. Not yet. Military procedure, as well as simple basic battle ethics, dictated that he first give Seraph the option of surrender. "Open a broad-spectrum comm blanket to the planet," he ordered.

The comm officer nodded briskly. "Channel open, Commodore."

"This is Commodore Vars Lleshi of the Pax warship Komitadji," he stated firmly, as if the Empyreals hadn't already figured that out. "I declare the Seraph system to be returned to the jurisdiction of Earth and the Pax. I call on you to withdraw your military forces to the surface and prepare to turn over the civilian government and infrastructure to my command."

He paused, but the only response was silence. "If you do not comply, my orders are to take control of this system by whatever means necessary, using whatever force is required," he went on.

Telthorst's eyebrows twitched at the word orders, but the Adjutor said nothing. "You have ten minutes to respond. After that, I will take whatever action I deem appropriate."

He tapped off his microphone switch. "Mark ten minutes," he ordered.

"Yes, sir."

"Very noble," Telthorst murmured. "You don't really expect them to just give up, do you?"

"You had better hope they do," Lleshi warned. "If they decide to fight, you're going to have a much smaller collection of plunder to present your fellow poachers at the cathedra."

Telthorst's eyes flashed. "How dare you refer to the Adjutors that way?" he demanded. "And while we're at it, how dare you pretend you had orders to come here? This was nothing more than a blatant attempt on your part to steal some glory for yourself. Here, in the midst of—"

"Komitadji, this is High Senator Arkin Forsythe of Lorelei," a deep, measured voice boomed from a dozen command deck speakers. "What are your terms of surrender?"

"Unconditional, of course," Telthorst called before Lleshi could answer. "You will immediately remove your warships—"

"This is Commodore Lleshi, High Senator," Lleshi cut him off. "You misunderstand our purpose here. This is not so much a surrender as it is merely a return of wayward colonies to the Pax family."

"A fine distinction, some would say," the High Senator commented.

"Perhaps," Lleshi said. "However, that is the reality of the situation. Upon your acceptance, you will immediately gain the same rights and privileges as any world and people of the Pax."

"And the same duties, I presume?"

"No rights exist without corresponding responsibilities," Lleshi reminded him.

"No, of course not," Forsythe said. "I would like the opportunity to discuss the details before we make a final decision."

"What decision is there to make?" Telthorst put in contemptuously. "Your forces are outnumbered, outgunned—"

Lleshi snapped his fingers at the comm officer and gestured, and Telthorst's microphone was abruptly clicked off. "Commodore—"

Lleshi cut him off with a single glare. "My apologies, High Senator," he said. "I am quite willing to discuss these matters with you. An unarmed shuttle with yourself, a pilot, and no more than two others aboard will be permitted to approach. A fighter escort will guide you to the proper docking bay."

"And then?"

Lleshi smiled tightly. "However our discussion goes, and whatever your decision, you and your party will be permitted to return unharmed to Seraph before any action is initiated on our part. You have my word on that."

There was just the briefest pause. "Very well, Commodore. I'll be there within the hour."

"I'll look forward to our meeting, High Senator," Lleshi said. "Komitadji out."

He gestured to the comm officer, and the microphone went dead. "I trust you realize what a fool you're being," Telthorst bit out, his face flushed with anger. "He knows what the rights and responsibilities are—we laid it all out for them months ago, before they closed their systems to us.

All he's doing is stalling, giving themselves more time to prepare."

"To prepare what?" Lleshi countered. "They have nothing down there that has a hope of standing up to us."

"Maybe they expect reinforcements," Telthorst said acidly. "Or didn't it occur to you that there are four more systems worth of Empyreal warships out there?"

Lleshi shook his head. "There will be no reinforcements. By now they know we're here, or at least suspect it, and each system is scrambling to prepare its own defenses. No one has enough ships or soldiers to spare for the others."

Telthorst folded his arms across his chest. "So you're just going to let this High Senator manipulate you into holding off your attack?"

"I'm going to try to set his mind at ease about the future of his world," Lleshi corrected. "If you don't like it, you don't have to sit in on the discussion."