Free Final Assault by Stephen Ames Berry Page A

of duty tells me I should turn you around and point you toward K'Ronar." He punched up a t'ata and took another sweetcake from the platter on R'Gal's desk. "With an AI invasion coming through the Rift in the Ghost Quadrant, headed straight at K'Ronar, Fleet needs this ship. It needs to copy its systems and deploy a fleet of these . . . Why are you shaking your head?" he asked R'Gal.
    "There's not enough time, materials or expertise to build a single battleglobe, Captain," said the AI. "The weapons systems are hardly miniaturized marvels: to be effective they have to be numerous and mounted on a battleglobe. Only other battleglobes or mindslavers stand a chance against the Fleet of the One."
    "What a hideous name," said S'Tat.
    "And a misnomer," said S'Rel, turning to her. "It should be called the Fleet of Fear and Hate. Our fascistic brethren have built and maintained a hegemony at fearsome cost. All the enslaved races hate them, and, judging from records on this ship, the brethren are beginning to hate each other. The conservatives hate the liberals, the liberals the conservatives, both hate and fear the underraces. It's Colonel R'Gal's theory that our home realm's a rotten fruit, ready to fall. One ship—this ship—can spark a revolt that will burn out the bad and maybe spare some of the good."
    P'Qal had been sipping his t'ata while he listened. "You haven't been home for a million years, any of you," he said, setting down the cup. "Yet you're so sure of yourselves." He looked at the two AIs. "The only recent arrivals from your universe have been the AIs' infiltrators who became Combine T'Lan. Therefore you have some way of independently confirming information you found on this ship. Probably ..."
    "All right, Captain," said R'Gal. "Let's just say we are sure of ourselves."
    P'Qal nodded. "Fine. So you can't save us from fire and blood without the portal device —if you can save us at all. Which brings me to my other objection. There is only one extant alternative-reality linkage device, an Imperial relic, evidently a prototype. Obviously, you'd have to take it with you or you couldn't access your home universe from the intervening reality. With you goes a very impressive bit of technology. I'm loath to release it on such a wild risk."
    "New technology will be of no use to us," said K'Raoda, "if we're all dead. And we will be dead if the Fleet of the One isn't stopped."
    P'Qal sighed. "You can have it," he said. "I hope you know how to use it with this monster's drive."
    "You're a brave man, Captain." R'Gal smiled. "And we do know how to use it."
    "You know what they'll do to me if you don't succeed?" he said, shaking his head. "I'll have S'Yatan release it to you."
    "You may have lost your mind, Captain. I haven't lost mine," said S'Yatan, his image sharp in the commscreen. "I'm not releasing that device to anyone but an authorized Fleet detachment—preferably of flotilla strength."
    P'Qal's face reddened dangerously. He leaned closer to the pickup. "Don't give me any of your Academy crap about authorizations and illegal orders, Captain," he said. "We have no way to contact Fleet. I am insystem commander. I have made the best decision possible with the available data and have now given you a direct, lawful order. They may court-martial me for releasing that device, but I sure as hell will see you shot for disobeying a direct order in a known combat zone." He leaned back, a short, fat man out of breath.
    "I am making for jump point, Captain P'Qal," said S'Yatan icily, features pale but composed. "I will report your dereliction of duty to FleetOps—and my reaction to it. We'll see who faces the wall."
    The screen went blank.
    "Get him back, Captain," said R'Gal. "We're not going anywhere without that device."
    P'Qal searched the unfamiliar console for the retransmit key.
    "Don't bother, Captain," said S'Rel, turning from the complink. "I was afraid of this. Devastator carried a full liaison packet, with all the data