Final Assault Part 8

"He may have blind jumped. If so, he's as good as dead," said the other. "Remain on station until you hear from me again, Captain."

"Yes, Goodman T'Lan."

As the Combine captain's image disappeared, T'Lan, neither good nor a man, turned to the other human-adapted AI, one who could and did pa.s.s for his son and heir. "That's L'Wrona's home system. He probably jumped, but I doubt it was blind. We'll just have to watch and wait, strike when it shows."

The two stood in the underground command center of one of the Federation's wealthiest industrial combines-a combine created several hundred years ago by beings from another reality, intent on infiltrating and ultimately destroying the Confederation. The big room bustled with activity, coordinating the far-flung merchant fleets and maintaining communications with distant points in this and one other universe.

"One of our units has the humans' only portal device," said the younger T'Lan.

"S'Yatan?" asked T'Lan senior, glancing at the status boards. Everything was on schedule -forward battle units of the Fleet of the One were approaching the Rift, about to penetrate into the K'Ronarins' Quadrant Blue Nine -the Ghost Quadrant.

The other AI nodded.

"He's had it since his ship was a.s.signed to Terra," said T'Lan senior. "His crew's human and loyal. He can kill them but he can't run the ship by himself. And there's always an escort vessel. So . . . ?"

"He's convinced the crew they're fleeing an unlawful order, heading back for K'Ronar. The instant he leaves the Terran system, he can kill his crew, and one of our ships will meet him."

T'Lan senior nodded. "Having that device, we'll use it to bring in a second force, augmenting the one coming through the Rift. Nothing can stop us." A sudden thought gave him pause. "What unlawful order was he fleeing?" he asked, frowning.

The other AI looked at his senior nervously. "You recall Binor's advance force? The one we thought the mindslavers wiped?" "Thought?"

"It seems that R'Gal, Guan-Sharick and some humans actually captured the flagship. It's at Terra now, and has been granted the device by the insystem commander."

The senior AI was absolutely still for a moment, absorbing the data. "No one," he said finally, "has ever taken a battleglobe. Not in all the long years of the Fleet of the One."

"Shall I alert home?" asked T'Lan junior, nodding toward a console manned by an AI wearing a terminal coupler plugged directly into his temples.

T'Lan senior held up a hand. "Not yet. Not until we've some success to report. That battleglobe can hurt us far worse back home than it can here-which is why R'Gal's trying to take it there."

Toy's jump drive was a creation of the High Imperial epoch. Unlike contemporary star-ships, the little scout was capable of low-risk, insystem jumps-and had just made one. jump drive was a creation of the High Imperial epoch. Unlike contemporary star-ships, the little scout was capable of low-risk, insystem jumps-and had just made one.

L'Wrona looked down on the rugged highlands of the S'Htil, one of the planet's three continents and its commercial hub.

In the old days, before the war, the tacscan would have picked up hundreds of s.p.a.ce- and atmospheric craft, coming and going from U'Triaport or traversing the planet. Now the tacscan was empty.

"Set us down in the old s'hlar grove, across the lake from the Hall," said L'Wrona as the ship plunged into the atmosphere, taking a sharp evasive tack against hypothesized missiles.

"Acknowledged," said the computer.

Unchallenged, seemingly undetected, the little ship sat down at dusk in the wooded hills just outside L'Yan, ancestral home of the Margrave of U'Tria. The sere autumn foliage was just catching the last rays of sunset when L'Wrona clambered down Toy's boarding ladder and stepped onto his home soil for the first time in ten long years.

Breathing deeply of the crisp, fresh air, he bent and picked up some leaves and dirt. Rubbing them slowly between his hands, he let them fall back to the forest floor, brushed his hands gently, then made his way toward the faint ruts of the old vehicle trail and the distant village.

10.

"HERE WE SIT," said L'Guan, sipping his brandy, "two flag officers without a single ship, aware of enemies within and without, and reduced to the status of observers."

"There are the commtorps," said D'Trelna. The two men sat at a small table on the blue-tiled patio overlooking the waterfall, two gla.s.ses and a crystal decanter of S'Tanian brandy between them. Below, the mist from the tumbling water prismed the artificial sunlight into a rainbow.

"What, the ones Implacable Implacable launched coming in?" asked the admiral. launched coming in?" asked the admiral.

D'Trelna nodded.

"Line," said L'Guan, "what's the status of those commtorps?"

Ill "All but one is intact, Admiral," said Line, its voice coming from beside the table. "They can be activated only upon signal from Implacable, Implacable, though. Absent though. Absent Implacable, Implacable, they cannot be utilized." they cannot be utilized."

"Surely the signal could be duped?" said D'Trelna.

"Authentication signals of a L'Aal-cla.s.s cruiser-indeed, of most Imperial-made battleships-to any of its indiginous equipment is code-based upon the matrix set of jump drive impulses unique to that particular vessel," said Line primly. "The chance of our successfully emulating it during your lifetime, Commodore, is insignificant."

"I had to ask," sighed D'Trelna.

"And what good would it do?" said L'Guan, looking at the Commodore.

D'Trelna's head jerked up, eyes narrowing. "The people would rise," he said, stabbing a thick finger at the admiral. "Fleet would join them, and Combine T'Lan-its bases, its ships, its agents-would disappear overnight. They're large, but they can't hope to stand against an aroused people backed by their military."

"Chaos is what you're describing, Commodore," said the Admiral. "Our ships scattered, our cities burning, fighting in the streets -just as the AI invasion force sweeps in."

"I disagree," said D'Trelna. "But it seems a moot point for now.

THE F FINAL A a.s.sAULT "So what do we do?" "So what do we do?"

"We could wait," said L'Guan, restopping the decanter. "If there is an AI invasion coming, it'll come out of Quadrant Blue Nine. Automatic pickets have been posted at all known jump points leading from there toward the Confederation. When and if they come, we'll know, D'Trelna."

"You know I made a deal with the mindslavers," said the commodore. "They're waiting in Blue Nine, ready to take on the AIs in return for . . ."

"In return for dangerous concessions from us," said L'Guan. "I know. If they can stop the AIs-and we and they survive-those concessions will probably be granted. But chances of that are slim to none."

"So you plan for us to just sit it out, Admiral, safe in the heart of Line?"

L'Guan smiled wryly, shaking his head. "Not even this charming sanctuary will be safe when the Fleet of the One gets here, D'Trelna." He sat looking at the waterfall for a long moment. "An admiral without a fleet and a commodore without a flotilla." He looked back at D'Trelna. "I've always rejected the desperate over the safe. But there are no safe moves left."

"I didn't know we had any moves left," said D'Trelna, staring glumly into the tropical twilight now falling over the jungle glade.

"Let's be thankful we survived today," said L'Guan, rising. "I'm going to bed. You might do the same."

"Admiral," called D'Trelna.

L'Guan turned.

"Thank you-for getting me out."

L'Guan shrugged. "How many times have you and Implacable Implacable saved our lives, D'Trelna?" saved our lives, D'Trelna?"

"You'd have gotten me out if I were a first-year cadet," said the commodore.

"No one gets at my people," said the admiral, shaking his head. "Not if I can stop them. Good night, J'Quel."

"So, Line," said D'Trelna as the admiral disappeared into the tropical twilight, "what do you think our chances are?"

Line spoke after a moment. "The situation is more complex than the admiral cares to believe," it said. "If all factors now in play are resolved in our favor, we will win. If even one of them is not resolved in our favor, we will lose."

"Wouldn't care to say what all those factors are, would you?" said the commodore, reaching for the decanter.

Beside him, the guide sphere vanished and twilight stood suspended. "Certainly," said Line, as D'Trelna poured himself another gla.s.s. "One. The captured battleglobe must reach AI s.p.a.ce and foment revolt. Two. The Margrave of U'Tria must find S'Yal's last citadel and retrieve the recall device. Three. The last fleet of the House of S'Yal must be recalled from the stasis in which it's snared. Four. Combine T'Lan and all its minions must be destroyed, chaos or not. And five . . ."

"Five?" The commodore frowned, gla.s.s almost to his lips.

"Five," said Line. "The Emperor must return."

"You crazy b.i.t.c.h!" shouted N'Trol into the pickup. "You can't keep pushing her this hard-she'll overload, tear herself apart!" Behind him, in engineering, the high-pitched vibration of machinery at the breaking point filled the air.

"You really love this old hulk, don't you, Engineer?" said A'Tir with a vicious little smile. The smile vanished. "Final jump point by watchend or I start s.p.a.cing your crew." The commscreen went blank.

N'Trol turned to his four engineering techs, standing behind him at the master panel, watching. "You heard her, lads," he said. "Let's do it." Glancing at the armed corsair pacing the catwalk above, he lowered his voice. "Now's our chance to do a little tinkering. Come look at the drive schematics-I'll show you what I mean."

"Line," said D'Trelna, setting down his empty gla.s.s. "What do you think of Admiral L'Guan?"

"A cla.s.sic n.o.ble patriot-indeed, almost cla.s.sical. He might have stepped out of some High Imperial epoch, battleflags snapping in the breeze behind him. His conduct during the Biofab War was beyond reproach."

"And now?" said the commodore, watching the waterfall.

"I fear," said Line after a moment, "that the admiral has been maneuvered into a position of seeming impotence. Wisely, he plays a waiting game."

"Seeming impotence?"

"The position of Line Duty officer is not quite the empty formality it seems, Commodore," said Line.

"What is it, then?" said D'Trelna.

"It's a potential, Commodore," said Line. "A potential awaiting just the right word."

"STANDBY TO JUMP," said S'Yatan, watching the tacscan data thread across Dawn's main screen. Devastator Devastator hadn't moved, remaining off Terra as though nothing had happened. hadn't moved, remaining off Terra as though nothing had happened.

L'Nar, the first officer, glanced at his complink. "Jump plotted and set. Engineering reports ..." He stopped, staring at the small screen. "Captain, the jump coordinates have been changed!"

S'Yatan had turned from the screen. "I know. I changed them," he said.

"But this will take us away from K'Ronar, not toward it," protested L'Nar.

The entire bridge crew was watching, all uneasy at having disobeyed Captain P'Qal, uneasier still at the way the senior officers' conversation was going.

S'Yatan lowered his voice. "I've received special orders regarding this contingency."

"How?" said L'Nar. "Devastator "Devastator took out the skipcomm buoy." took out the skipcomm buoy."

All eyes followed S'Yatan as he walked to where Dawn's Dawn's first officer stood, beside the tactics station. "You will jump this ship, Mr. L'Nar," he said softly. "Or you will die." first officer stood, beside the tactics station. "You will jump this ship, Mr. L'Nar," he said softly. "Or you will die."

"As soon as you answer my question, Captain," said L'Nar, folding his arms across his chest and looking resolutely into S'Yatan's cold blue eyes-a resolution that changed to shock as the captain's eyes turned a gaze-searing, fiery red.

"Yes, how did you get the message?" said a different voice. Ignoring the sudden shriek of an alarm and the rasp of blasters being drawn, an attractive blonde in a white jumpsuit stepped up to the two officers.

"S'Cotar," said S'Yatan, facing Guan-Sharick. "No wonder they didn't pursue." He turned to his crew who stood blasters leveled at the blonde. "That's a S'Cotar," he said, pointing. "A biofab. Shoot!"

L'Nar's eyes had only briefly left the captain's face. "AI," he said finally, hoa.r.s.ely. "You're an AI combat droid." He drew his sidearm. "Where's the captain?"

"A long time dead, probably," said Guan-Sharick. Her gaze went from face to face. "As you'd all be killed the instant you made that jump to his waiting ship." A small pistol appeared in the S'Cotar's hand, pointed at S'Yatan. There was a triangular device set in the weapon's grip, a single blue eye set in each corner of it, two black parallel lines in its center.

S'Yatan stared at the weapon, then at the blonde. "Guan-Sharick," he said slowly. The AI shook his head. "Impossible. You're dust-a million years dead. I saw your ship blown apart in the Revolt, a dozen battleglobes reduce it to nothing."

"Time's been good to me, S'Yatan," said Guan-Sharick. "It won't be as good to you."

The alarm stopped its shrieking and the silence deepened as the crew looked on uncertainly, watching the strange tableau. "You call it, Commander L'Nar," said an engineering tech at last, eyes and blaster shifting between S'Yatan and the blonde.

"Reset jump coordinates for K'Ronar," said the first officer.

"Not necessary now," said Guan-Sharick, glancing left as the bridge doors opened, admitting John and Zahava. Crossing the deck, John placed a black, walnut-sized crystal in the blonde's outstretched palm. "Drive nexus," he said.

The crystal vanished, flicked elsewhere by Guan-Sharick. "You'll have to proceed back to Terra and await a replacement," said the S'Cotar.

"A diversion," said S'Yatan to the blonde.

"You were a diversion while your friends pulled my drive nexus!"

He fired, a stream of red bolts flashing from his eyes only to dissipate inches from that perfect blond hair.

Guan-Sharick squeezed the trigger, immobilizing the AI in an invisible field stasis that left S'Yatan a statue in the middle of Dawn's Dawn's bridge. bridge.

"Where is it?" said the blonde, holstering her weapon and turning to L'Nar.

The first officer looked at S'Yatan for an instant, nodded curtly and went to the captain's station. Quickly keying a combination on the complink's touchpad, he watched as a small panel slid open on the console pedestal, then removed a square black cube. "What about him . . . it?" he said, handing the cube to Guan-Sharick.

"Put him somewhere and dust him occasionally," said the S'Cotar, pocketing the portal device. "He's in an irreversible stasis field, perceiving, thinking, but unable to move. Eventually, he'll go mad-in an endlessly looped, robotic way."

L'Nar looked at the AI-S'Yatan stared unblinking at where Guan-Sharick had stood, eyes still red with frozen flame. "How long will he . . . ?"

The blonde looked at the young officer, her eyes blue and distant. "Till the stars wink out, Commander, and all matter's just an ethereal memory." Guan-Sharick smiled wearily. "And a better fate than he deserves.

"Luck to you, Commander L'Nar."

The S'Cotar and the Terrans were gone.