The Insurrection

"So? The horseheads don't take prisoners, sir." 'allyrue. But the passenger and crew sections were undamaged. Whoever attacked raked the drive and command sections with primaries and needle beams, then looted the holds and finished off the crew in the process." "Yes, sir. Typical Tangri work." Tomanaga was puzzled. Clearly his admiral had noticed something he had missed.

"Except this, Bob. According to the passenger manifest, there were fourteen young women aboard that ship. So where are their bodies?" "What?" Tomanaga rose and moved to her desk. "May I, sir?" he asked, laying his hand on the swiveled terminal. "Certainly." He turned the screen and peered at it thoughtfully, mind racing.

"It doesn't make sense," he muttered.

"Only the women are missing." "Exactly. And the Tangri have never shown any particu-lax interest in kidnaping young, female Terrans." "Yes, sir. So it had to be someone with a use for them.... What about ransom? were any of them wealthy?"

'Ofi a tramp freighter?" Hah shook her head. "Navy nurses and doctors from Zephrain." "So whoever hit her didn't hail from the Rim, either." Tomanaga frowned. "I don't like it." "Neither do I. Nor, I suppose, did those passengers and crewmen." "Sorry, sir. I meant I don't like the implications. Whoever did it isn't based at Orpheus--we swept the place with a fine-toothed comb. That means inter-system raiding. And that, sir, means there's a joker in the deck. If we spot anyone, we can't know whether it's the Rim or these pirates." "Perhaps." Han cleared her screen and a warp chart flickered to life. She tapped it with a stylus.

There's nothing much out here but outposts and mining colonies--noto heavy traffic, sparse populations, slow communications. They could be almost anywhere. Take over a mining colony and the nav beacons and you control all communications with the system.

Who's to know you've done it?" "Then we'd better get a drone off immediately, sir." "Agreed. But what then? It'll take two months just to reach Cimmaron. Then two more months for Admiral Iskan to reply or relay it four months, minimum, for whoever it is to go on doing whatever they're doing. No, we have to deal with it ourselves." "But, sir, this area--was he indicated the suspect warp lines his-comis outside our patrol area. It'd take uswhat, five weeks?

-comj to get there, and it'd mean abandoning the picket.

I don't think the Admiralty would like that."

"he Admiralty isn't out here, Bob: we are. We won't take the entire battlegroup, anyway. We'll take one other monitor, Shokaku, and two of the cans and leave the rest here under Commodore Cruett. I suppose I could detach Cruett, but it's my responsibility ff decisions have to be made." "Yes, sir. But--was "Bob, we're going. We're supposed to prevent things like this, war or no war. Understood?" "Yes, sir." "Good. Then get together with Stravos and rough out a set of orders for Cruett. And ask Dick to lay out the best search pattern for us. I don't want to be gone any longer than we have to be." "Aye, aye, sir." He left and Hah cocked her chair back once more, studying the star map and disliking her thoughts.

TRNS Bernardo da Silva plowed slowly through space, accompanied by her sister monitor Franklin P. Eisenhower and the light carrier Shokaku. Two escort destroyers watched the rear while Shokaku's recon fighters swept the detachment's projected track and flanks, and Rear Admiral Li Hah sat on her palatial flag bridge, fingers steepled under her clean jaw line, contemplating her empty plot.

A month of cruising the suspect warp lines, and hoth-+. Was she on the wrong track? Had she made a major error--one that validated her earlier fears over her judgment? Her face was calm as she silently reviewed her discussions with Tomanaga, her endless perusal of dry facts with Irene Jorgensen. The data was there, she decided once more; only her response to it was suspect.

A bell chimed, and she roused, cocking an eyebrow at the eom section as David Reznick bent over the battle code printer. He tore off the message flimsy and turned to her.

"Signal from Shokaku, sir. One of the fighters is onto something." "I see." Han sca

"Shokaku's fighters have picked up something--noto telling what yet--on our line of advance. They're going in for a closer look, but it'll take us about three hours to catch up with them, so I thought we might advance lunch to get it out of the way ff we have to go to action stations." "Certainly, sir. I'll see to it immediately." "Thank you, Sam." Reznick's printer chimed again as Han signed off, and she waited patiently. If using coded whisker lasers delayed communications, it also eliminated the chance of message interception and greatly reduced the likelihood of long-range detection. Then Reznick handed her the message, and her face tigi[tened almost imperceptibly as she read it. She turned to Lieutenant Jorgensen.

"Irene," she said quietly, "punch up your shipping logs and double-check for me, please. According to Shokaku, this is what's left of a Postarsts-class liner.

I'm afraid it may be Argosy Polaris." "Yes, sir," the lieutenant was punching keys, watching the data come up. "Argosy Polaris, sir.

Two hundred passengers and a priority medical cargo. Reported overdue at Kariphos ten months ago." "Damn," Han said softly.

"It's the Polaris, sir," Commander Tomanaga confirmed grimly, studying the drifting hulk on his screen. "Somebody ripped hell out of her, too.

Mst've been quick and dirty to keep her from even getting a drone away. Look at that." His finger indicated the relatively small punctures riddling the command section of the big liner.

"Primaries and needles," Han said flatly.

"They knew she was armed--comn that her popguns would've helped much. So they closed in, tractored her, and blew her command and corn sections before she could yell for help." "But how did they get close enough? And what's she doing way out here? We're six transits off the Stendahl-Kariphos route."

"I don't know how they fooled her master," Hun said, "but getting her here wouldn't be hard.

There's no damage to her drive pods. They just blasted the command deck and then gave whoever was left his options: surrender or see two hundred passengers vaporized. After that, they used the engine room controls to bring her out here so they could loot her at leisure. Not the approved technique, but workable as long as they were in company with someone with intact nay capabilities." "Sounds reasonable." Tomanaga's words were calm; his faco and tone weren't. "But it was sloppy to leave her intact. They should'ye blown her fusion plants or dropped her into the primary to hide the evidence." "No, Bob. This is a lonely spot, and that's a hundred thousand to