wasn't looking forward to the interview with Captain Glebe. Her greatest hope was that he didn't make a complaint to Admiral Makasa.
***
"W e should be safe this time." Morgan let out a breath. "Is Jirra all right? She would have been thrown around a bit."
Wincing, Morgan eased out of her seat and followed Ravindra through the hatch to the common room. Her hip would have a beautiful bruise. Davaskar had sustained a few scratches when a panel exploded and showered him with debris. But all up, they'd come through it well.
Jirra met them, combing her fingers through her hair. "That was one party I was happy to leave early," she said.
"Okay?" Morgan asked.
The younger woman nodded, grinning. "Fine. Can I learn to fly like that?"
Morgan snorted. "I'm not sure it's worth the pain." Memories of her childhood flooded back. Parents who didn't know what to do with her, schools that couldn't cope with her abilities. Growing up with a modified brain hadn't been easy.
Ravindra leaned toward her. "Are we safe, Morgan?"
"Huh? You mean can the intruder follow? Probability, two percent. But I suppose it depends on why they attacked us."
"Yes. Why?"
"There's a whole list of possible reasons." Prasad sat at the table, resting one elbow on the surface. "The easiest is an opportunistic pirate who saw us leave."
"Sure. That's what I would have thought." Morgan accepted a glass of water and a cup of fresh brewed kaff from Tullamarran. The man was an absolute jewel, always seeming to know what was needed. She thanked him and he responded with that rare, shy smile before he stepped away.
"But would a pirate follow us after you micro-jumped? And would a pirate have the skill?" Ravindra was in what Morgan called 'admiral' mode. He sat back in his seat, tapping his fingertips together.
Morgan shrugged. "A lot of pirates are Fleet trained. They get out of the service, miss the excitement. A few are solo, but to do that you have to get hold of a ship and to do that you need money. Most pirates are employees of crime syndicates, which have the credits to buy the best ships and modify them."
"Just like us," murmured Prasad. "So some might have the skill, but would they have the motivation?"
"Have you any idea what sort of ship attacked us?" Ravindra asked.
Morgan shook her head. "The ship was shielded." She stared at the tabletop. Steam rose from the cup of kaff Tullamarran had set in front of her. "Judging by its speed, energy emission signature, maneuverability, I'd expect a fighter. A state of the art one." That thought sent a tingle down her spine.
Ravindra's lips curved in the slightest of smiles. "That would be my guess, also. So who would have such a fighter? Crime syndicates, of course."
"Let's look at who had a motive." Prasad ticked off points on his fingers. "Forbes could have worked out we had more gold and jewels and decided to take it. That could have been a solo operator, or a syndicate. The reports from the riots show several people died. We might have been blamed for a death and attracted a vendetta. Or someone in the local Star Fleet saw an opportunity for an extra-curricular raid. Anything else?"
"Sounds pretty comprehensive," Morgan said.
"Is there any chance there was a Supertech flying that fighter?" Ravindra spoke softly, gazing at her with extra intensity.
Morgan's heart skipped. "Why do you say that?"
"The ship was shielded. You couldn't read anything from it and the piloting was incredible." She was aware of Ravindra's gaze, almost like a laser beam on her skin.
The notion hadn't entered her head. Another Supertech. No, it wasn't likely. "Sure, the pilot was good, very good. But then again, the craft could have had a capability I haven't encountered. Chasing us after the micro-jump wasn't special, just that maneuver to destroy the missile, and a really skilled pilot could manage that." The longer she talked the more comfortable she felt. "Besides, it doesn't make sense. Another Supertech would be one