Free Star Risk - 03 The Doublecross Program by Chris Bunch Page A

on.
    The cruiser was entirely in a vacuum, and its skeleton crew had died, most without realizing it.
    They made their way through the ship, found no one living.
    In the control room, Grok had set down his tool chests and was considering the navigation area.
    "If I recollect," he rumbled, holding out a power wrench, "the overrides should be in here. Now, Chas, if you'll give a hand with these panel fasteners�"
    "We don't have that kind of time," Goodnight said, and sent four quick blaster bolts into the panel corners.
    It clanged free to the deck.
    "How terribly direct," Grok said, peering inside.
    "Ah yes," he said. "Here and here are the sensors to keep one from setting a course into the heart of his own sun. If you would do the honors, Mr. Goodnight?"
    Chas obeyed, his rifle flashing twice.
    "Now, if you care to set the course you've prepared�"
    Goodnight had prepared a fiche that should work on any Alliance nav computer, and went to a control couch and fired up the device, ever grateful the Alliance built its electronics for worst-case scenarios.
    Such as trying to operate in a vacuum with gauntlets.
    He fed the fiche into the proper slot. The computer beeped complainingly, and lights lit.
    Goodnight considered them, touched sensors.
    Slowly, the objecting lights went out as Goodnight corrected the fiche's preset present position to match the cruiser's actual location.
    "Hey, Skip," one of the mercenaries sent. "Somebody's trying to talk to us."
    "Ignore them," Goodnight said. "Loose lips sink ships and all that. They'll worry more and shoot less�for awhile�if nobody's talking back to them."
    He turned back to the computer.
    "I think," he muttered, "that's about it. Power on, and to commence to traveling in� oh, five minutes.
    "Hokay, troopies," he �cast. "Time to hit the bricks. Momma's going home."
    The thirty-nine women and men went, as ordered, to the center air lock, intended for mass debarkation.
    Goodnight touched controls, said, "It should be on its way," and helped Grok with one of his toolboxes to the air lock and the others.
    A noncom made a head count.
    "Sir, we're short one man," he reported.
    "We took one casualty," Chas said.
    The sergeant frowned, waited for an explanation, then realized one wasn't coming.
    "Out of here," Goodnight ordered, and the raiders went into the lock and cycled out into space.
    They'd returned to the patrol ships when the cruiser stirred, the nav program cut in, and it swung, pointing down toward Thur.
    Whatever the fleet had been transmitting to below on the planet was now ground zero for the cruiser, as it accelerated "downward" on secondary drive.
    Maybe the target would be a nice, fat command Center, filled with nice, fat commanders.
    "Now that should make quite a bang," Goodnight said. "Dov two, baddies zero."
    But he was preoccupied with thoughts of that dead Khelat, who broke under pressure but still had enough courage to try to murder Goodnight.
    For what? Being called a coward?
    Stranger and stranger, Goodnight thought.
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    ELEVEN � ^ � And here you have it," the alien told Grok. "Transmission under way, two items."
    "Two?"
    "The after-action report from the Alliance Advisory Team to the Khelat Systems, as requested. And a page from the Boanerges Fine Arts catalog on Earth. They specialize in Moores.
    "I think you'll be interested in the report� There is certainly something strange about the death of the advisory team's commanding officer.
    "And the price on the Moore I want is circled."
    "How expensive is it?"
    "Now," the being said, "why do you care? You'll pass the price along to your client."
    "Strong point," Grok agreed.
    "I think," Friedrich von Baldur said, "it is time for us to prepare an Offensive against Shaoki." He deliberately put capital letters in his voice.
    King Saleph looked nervous. Beside him, Prince Barab twitched a little in unconscious agreement with