Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“But Commissioner—” Sanspach paused, then muttered, “ Damn—!” before cutting his transmission.

For two long minutes, there was near-silence on the bridge of Impris as everyone watched the movements of the ships. The Kyber ships were hurtling toward a possible rendezvous, but the two Spacing Authority destroyers were closer. And the Centrist Strength ship was closer still, and gaining…

A new transmission came in on a tight beam from the Kyber commander. “ This is Kyber Farhawk. Impris, you are to lay in the following course and prepare to boost out of orbit as soon as negotiations are complete.” A series of instructions followed.

“No!” Legroeder shouted.

Friedman looked defeated. “They have the weapons, Rigger. I can’t refuse, if they order us.”

“No, you must not resist,” Commander Fre’geel said in a soft hiss.

Legroeder hesitated. The Narseil were desperately eager to get Impris —and him—to their institute. Would they be willing to abduct him and the passengers and crew of Impris to do it? They owed no allegiance to Faber Eridani. But how about him? Did they owe it to him? He glanced at Cantha and saw a torn expression. Shit. If only he had a weapon.

To do what with?

Deutsch floated closer, almost protectively. Legroeder blinked. He leaned into Deutsch and whispered into his friend’s ear. A moment later, Deutsch’s telescoping arm shot out with blinding speed and put something in Legroeder’s hand. He gripped it before his eyes had a chance to focus on it.

A tiny neutraser pistol, a one-shot. Legroeder snapped it up into view, for all to see. “Listen to me, people—”

Fre’geel’s eyes narrowed.

“Rigger Legroeder, what are you doing?” Friedman protested. “Raising a weapon against friends?”

“No,” Legroeder said, and drew a sharp breath. He raised the gun and placed its muzzle to his own head. To the slight bump of the implant in his temple. “Not against friends.”

Fre’geel let out a low hiss.

“All right? Back me up, Freem’n.” Keeping the gun to his head, Legroeder stepped forward so that all on the bridge could see him, and to let the captain of the Kyber ship see him on the monitor. “You all get it? This ship does not leave Faber Eri orbit. If it does, it goes without the information you all want so badly. Captain Arden, I suggest you back off and forget that little change of plans of yours. And Fre’geel?” He faced the Narseil commander. “Do you wish to say something to the good Captain Arden?”

He had never seen a Narseil’s eyes shrink so narrow.

Talbott’s face held a grim expression as Red Knight streaked into space, but his heart was racing. Somehow he had known that it would fall to him, in the end, to stop the former Spacing Commissioner. At last he was doing something instead of waiting, always waiting—this was why he had joined Centrist Strength—to act, and to make a difference.

They would make a difference, all right. The three of them—Talbott, his pilot Hanson, his weapons officer Manny. They would make clear that you do not kick sand in the eyes of Centrist Strength. And they would do it not just on behalf of Strength, but of all the people of this world who believed in the destiny , in the future .

One of their own leaders had fallen away, and it was the task of Red Knight to bring him in. To stop a disaster from happening. Ottoson North, fleeing like a jackrabbit when the going got tough, and risking the security of all they had worked for.

The planetary horizon had spread out in a round arc beneath them, glowing against the eternal black of space. “How long to weapons lock?”

Manny replied, “Long shot, in about four minutes. Tighter shot, and more options, about seven. Major, I’m picking up a couple of destroyers moving toward intercept. Must be Vigilant and Forte .”

“Message coming in from them now,” Talbott muttered, adjusting the com.

“Vigilant to unidentified Centrist Strength vessel. Discontinue your pursuit at once. Repeat—call off your pursuit. We warn you not to interfere with Spacing Authority business.”

Talbott didn’t answer, but snorted as he punched up a secure transmission to Command. Text only—not as classy as what the Authority used, maybe, but more secure. He sent: Range in four to seven minutes. Have received a warning from Authority destroyers. Estimate they will be a factor in six minutes. Awaiting final instructions .

As he waited for a response, he watched Faber Eridani turn beautifully beneath them. They were still in high acceleration, their space inductors pulling them around the planet in a guided path at about twice standard orbital velocity. If their power shut down, they’d fly off into space like a stone from a sling.

“What’s the word, Major?” Hanson asked, eyes glued to the controls.

“Coming now.” Talbott held his breath as their orders scrolled across.

Code Blue confirmed. Take your prey, and good hunting.

Talbott’s voice caught. He’d trained for this for years, but he’d never actually been in ship-to-ship combat. It was time to prove his mettle. Those two Authority destroyers weren’t going to play games. Should he say something to his crew?

He drew a breath. Sacrifice is the name of the game, he whispered silently. No guts, no glory. He glanced left, right. His voice was gravel. “You know what we’re here for. They’re going to try to stop us. Let’s get the job done.”

For a long moment, no one on the Impris bridge spoke, or even seemed to breathe. Then Fre’geel, stiffly, moved toward the screen. “Captain of the Kyber. I must inform you that the Narseil Navy—” he hesitated, just a heartbeat “—stands in support of our colleague Rigger Legroeder. We cannot cooperate with the coerced removal of Impris from her home system.” He looked back at Legroeder, his eyes drawn with tension.

The Kyber captain spoke forcefully. “You must cooperate… and you will…”

“And what?” answered Fre’geel. “Bring back a dead man, with dead implants? Will that advance your cause?”

The first hint of uncertainty entered the Kyber commander’s voice. “You may regret not taking this opportunity.”

“I’ll regret it more,” Fre’geel said flatly, “if Rigger Legroeder pulls that trigger.”

Legroeder strained to keep his hand from shaking. “Captain Friedman,” he murmured to the horrified Impris skipper, “I’m sorry to have to do it this way. But if you went with the KM/C fleet… I’m not sure you would ever reach the Narseil Institute. These are pirates, the same ones who tried to destroy you and us, once before.”

“Skipper,” Tiegs said urgently, “there’s an awful lot of coded com activity among the Kyber ships. I can’t read any of it, but there’s some heavy-duty discussion going on.”

Friedman squinted, and suddenly pointed to the center of the screen. “What’s that? ” Seven ships were converging on North’s launch from above, in front, and behind. The pursuing ship was closest, and gaining rapidly.

“North’s ship has increased power,” Johnson said. “He’s trying to get away from the Centrist Strength ship and join up with— oh my God , what are they doing?”

There were several flickers of light on the screens.

“What’s happening?” Friedman snapped.

Johnson worked frantically at the controls. The image on the screen shifted left and right, then snapped to a higher magnification. “It’s weapons fire! Centrist Strength has fired a missile at North! Now one of the destroyers is firing at the Centrist—”