Generation Warriors

Chapter Three

"I did not need this." Sassinak waved the hardcopy of the Security-striped message at Dupaynil and Ford. "I've got things to do. We att have. And the last thing we need to do is waste time playing nursemaid to a senile conspirator." Things had gone too smoothly, she thought, when she'd sent Lunzie off. She should have expected some hitch to her plans.

Dupaynil had the suave expression she most disliked. "I beg your pardon, Commander?"

He could not be that suave unless he knew what was in the message: Ford, who clearly did not, looked worried.

"Orders," Sassinak said crisply. "New orders, sent with all applicable coding on the IFTL link. We are to transport the accused conspirator Tanegli and the alleged native-born Iretan Aygar to…" She paused, and watched them, Dupaynil merely waited, lips pursed; Ford spoke up.

"Sector HQ? Fleet HQ on Regg?"

"No. Federation Headquarters. For a full trial before and in the presence of the Federation High Council. We are responsible," and she glanced down at the message to check the precise wording, "responsible for the transportation and safe arrival of said prisoner, who shall be released to the custody of Council security forces only. The trial date has already been set, for a local date that translates to about eight standard months from now. Winter Assizes, as we were told before. Prisoner's counsel is given as Klepsin, Vigal, and Tollwin. And you know what that means."

"Pinky Vigal, Defender of the Innocent," said Dupaynil, almost chuckling. "That ought to make an exciting trial. You know, Commander, he can probably make you look like a planet pirate yourself, a villainous sort masquerading as a Fleet officer. Hmmm… you stole the uniform from Tanegli, bribed everyone else to testily against him."

"It's not funny," said Sassinak, glowering. She had never been one to follow the escapades of fashionable lawyers, but anyone in human space had heard of Pinky Vigal. It was another of the failings of civilian law, Sassinak thought, that someone everyone knew had done something could not be punished if a honeytongued defense counsel could convince even one member of a trial jury that some minute error had been made in procedure. Fleet had better methods.

"So," Ford broke in, clearly intending a distraction. "We're responsible for Tanegli until we get to Federation Central… and for Aygar as well? Why Aygar?"

"Witness for both sides, I suppose," Dupaynil said with a flourish of his hand. "Friendly to one, hostile to the other, but indispensable to both."

"And registered copies of all the testimony we took, and depositions from all bridge officers, and any other crew members having contact with the said Tanegli and Aygar," Sassinak continued to read. "Kipling's bunions! By now that's half the crew, the way Aygar's been roaming around. If I'd known…"

She knew from Ford's expression that she must look almost as angry as she felt. They would spend weeks getting in and out of the required transfer points for Federation Central, and then weeks being interviewed - deposed, she reminded hersetf - and no doubt Fleet Security would have its own band of interrogators there.

In the meantime, the Zaid-Dayan would be sitting idle while the enemy continued its work. She would no doubt have umpteen thousand forms to fill out and sign: in multiple copies which had to be processed individually, rather than on computer, for security reasons.

She noticed that Dupaynil was watching her with alert interest. So he had read the message even before she'd seen it - which meant he had a tap on the IFTL link, or had somehow coerced one of her communications officers into peeling a copy to his quarters. What else did he know, or had he been told? She decided not to ask; he wouldn't tell her, and she'd just be angry when he refused.

"Dupaynil." The change in her tone surprised him; his smugness disappeared. "I want you to start finding out which crew Aygar has been in contact with. Marines, Wefts, officers, enlisted, everyone. You can have a clerk if you need one -"

"No… I can manage…" His voice was bemused; she felt a surge of glee that she was making him think.

"I suspect it's too late to restrict his contacts. And after all, we want him friendly to FSP policies. But if the crew know that they'll have to go through paperwork and interviews because they talk to him, some may pull back."

"Good idea… and I'd best get started." Dupaynil sketched a salute - to more than her rank, she was sure - and left.

Sassinak said nothing for a moment, engaging her own (surely still undiscovered?) privacy systems. Then she grinned at Ford.

"That sneak: he knew already."

"I thought so, too. But how?"

"He's Naval Intelligence - but I'm never sure with those types if he's Intelligence for someone else, or someones else, as well. The fact that he's planted his own devices - and too cleverly to reassure me of his ultimate aims - is distinctly unsettling because there's no telling why he's doing it. I'm -" and Sassinak pushed her thumb into her chest, grinning "- allowed to be that clever, but not my subordinates. At the moment, that's not the issue. Getting you away to find your dear great-aunt or whatever is the issue, because I don't want you tied up for the time this is going to take. We need information before that trial date." Sassinak pushed the orders over to Ford who noted the date and its conversion to Fleet standard notation on his personal handcomp. "If you can't find anything by then, be sure you're back to say so."

"But how can I leave when allb-"

Sassinak hushed him with a gesture. "There are more tricks in that com shack than Dupaynil knows about. So far, he's the only one who knows that you were present when these orders arrived. And he's got priority orders he doesn't know about yet. But he soon will. Just follow my lead."

The bridge crew came to attention when Sassinak arrived, but she gave the helm to Ford and entered the communications alcove.

"Captain's orders," she said crisply to the officer on watch, "You received an IFTL a short time ago?"

"Yes, ma'am, to the captain's address with encryption."

Sassinak could not tell if the com officer's tension was normal or not. "The contents of that message require me to sit com watch myself for two hours." This was unusual, but not unheard of: sometimes extremely sensitive information was sent this way. "I expect incoming IFTL signals, encrypted, and by these orders," and she waved the paper, "only the ship's captain can receive them."

"Yes, ma'am. Will the captain need any assistance?"

Sassinak let herself glare, and the com officer vanished onto the bridge. What she was going to do was both illegal and dangerous… but so was what Dupaynil had done, and what the enemy had done. She logged onto the board and engaged her private comlink to the Ssli interface.

So far, normal procedure. But now… her fingers danced on the board, calling up the file of the original encrypted message. And there it was, the quadruple header code she had never forgotten, not in all the years. Idiots, she thought; they should have changed that long since, as she had changed from a naive ensign standing communications watch to an experienced and powerful ship captain.

With the right header code, it was easy to prepare an incoming message Dupaynil would have to believe was genuine. The other 'incoming' message would be in regular Fleet fashion, Ford's detachment on 'family compassionate leave'… but it would not arrive until Dupaynil was gone.

Where to send Dupaynil? Where would he be safely out of her way, and also, in his own mind, doing something reasonable? She wished she could send him to a Thek, preferably a large, old, very slow one… but that wouldn't work. Fleet Security had nothing to do with the pacifist Bronthins, or the Mrouxt.

Suddenly it came to her, and she fought back a broad grin which anyone glancing into the alcove might notice (why would the captain be grinning to herself in the com shack?): Ford would dig up dirt on the Paraden family's dealings, and Lunzie would find what she could on Diplo… and that, according to what they'd found on Ireta, left the alien Setis without an investigator. That would be Dupaynil's chore.

He had done a lot of diplomatic work, he'd said. He had bragged after dinner, once, about his ability to get along with any of the alien members of the Federation, and even said the Seti weren't as bad as everyone thought.

So, quickly, carefully, Sassinak wrote the orders. The Ssli had always shown her special considerations, above and beyond their usual shipboard duties. She owed her life to the sessile Ssli communications officer on her first tour of duty when Hssrho had located her in deep space after she'd had a 'misadventure' in an evac pod. In gratitude she had always taken care to cultivate the Ssli communications officers on every other posting. Now she consulted the resident Ssli. She could not simply pretend that an IFTL had come in; the computer records would show it had not and Dupaynil probably had subverted computer security to some degree. But Dupaynil's actual shipboard experience was limited and Sassinak knew that he had never bothered to introduce himself to Dhrossh. Her favorite Wefts, such as Gelory, had mentioned in passing that Dupaynil's mind was not the right sort for direct contact. Whatever they meant by that.

The Ssli thought her scheme was delightful… an odd choice of adjective, Sassinak thought, and wondered if the speech synthesizer software was working correctly. She had never suspected the Ssli of any remotely human emotions. Ssli syntax tended toward the mathematical. But she entered her encrypted message, and the Ssli initiated IFTL communication with another Ssli on another Fleet vessel. Which one she would never know.

The Ssli, her own had informed her, felt no compunction about concealing such communications from human crew. Her own message bounced back, and appeared as a true incoming message on the computer and the board. Sassinak routed it to the decryption computer, peeled a copy for Dupaynil's file, and leaned out to call to the com watch officer, who had taken a seat on the bridge.

"Get me Dupaynil," she said, letting herself glower a bit.

Ford glanced at her but did not even let his brows rise. Dupaynil arrived in a suspiciously short time; this time Sassinak's glower was not faked at all.

"You," she said, pointing a finger at him. The rest of the bridge crew became very busy at their own boards. "You have an incoming IFTL, which not only requires decryption and states that I do not have access, but in addition to that, it carries initiation codes I remember all too well!"

He would have to know that, or he could find out - and perhaps her flare of anger would distract him from the unlikeliness of his own orders. At the moment, he fooked confused, as well he might.

"This!" Sassinak pointed to the display she'd frozen onscreen. "The last time I saw that initiation code, that very one, in quad like that, someone smacked me over the head and dumped me in an evac pod. If you think you're going to do something like that, Major - take me out and take over my ship - you are very much mistaken!" She could hear the anger in her own voice, and the bridge was utterly silent.

"I… Commander Sassinak, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. That code is known to me, yes - it's from the IG's office. But…"

"I don't like secrets on my ship, Dupaynil! I don't like junior officers receiving IFTL messages to which the captain is forbidden access. And encrypted messages at that. I don't like people going over my head to the IG's office. What's your gripe, eh?"

Dupaynil, she was sure, was not as upset as he looked. He was too smart by half. But he was responding to her obvious anger and had lost some of his gloss. "Commander, the IG's office might have reason to contact me about the Security work I've done here - if nothing else, about that - you know…" His voice lowered. Sassinak let herself calm down.

"I still don't like it," she grumbled, but softly. Someone smothered a cough, over in Weapons, and nearly choked from the effort. "All right. I see what you mean, and from what Lunzie said that whole thing was classified. Maybe there is a reason. But I don't like secrets. Not like this, at a time when we're all…" She let her voice trail away. Dupaynil's lids drooped slightly. Was he convinced? "Take your damned message, and unless you like causing me grief, tell me what's so important I can't even read it."

Dupaynil moved to the decryption computer and entered his password.

Sassinak turned to the communications watch officer, and said, "Take over. And make sure I know about any incoming or outgoing messages. From anyone." This last with a sidelong glance at Dupaynil.

The Security officer was staring at the screen as if it had grown tentacles; Sassinak controlled an impulse to laugh at him. He glanced at her, a shrewd, calculating look, and she spoke immediately.

"Well? Are you supposed to clap me in irons, or what?" He shook his head, and sighed.

"No, Commander, it's nothing like that. It is… odd… that is all. May we speak in your office? Privately?"

Sassinak nodded shortly and left the bridge with a final glower for everyone. She could feel the support of her crew - her own crew - like a warm blanket around her shoulders. In her office, she put her formal desk between herself and Dupaynil. His brows rose, recognizing that for what it was, and he sighed again.

"Captain, I swear to you…"

"Don't bother." Sassinak turned away, briefly, to glance at the hardcopy he offered her, then met his dark eyes squarely. "If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you don't - but I cannot ignore anything like that. It nearly cost me my life twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry. Truly sorry. But just as you received unwelcome orders a short while ago, I have now received unwelcome orders to leave this ship - unwelcome and even stranger than yours."

"Oh? And where are you supposed to go?" She saw Dupaynil wince at the unbending ice in that tone. She could care less, as long as she rid herself of a potential traitor.

"To the Seti - to the Seti of Fomalhaut, in fact. One of my past sins come to haunt me, I suppose. Apparently there's some kind of diplomatic problem with the new human ambassador to the High Court, and I'm supposed to know someone who might be of assistance."

"But you can't," Sassinak said sharply. "You can't leave: we're all under orders to proceed to Federation Central, you most of all. You were in on all of it; your testimony…"

"Can be recorded, and will have to be. I'm sorry. Truly sorry, as I said, but these orders take precedence. Have to." His finger tapped the authorizing seals and codes; in the labyrinthine regulations of Fleet and FSP, the IG's signature outweighed even the Judge Advocate General's. "Besides, I might still be of use to you. The Thek hinted that the Seti were involved, but they had no solid data, or none they passed to us. That's something I can look into, with my contacts in the Seti diplomatic subculture. They estimate the assignment proper will take me only about six standard months; I can be back in time to share what I've learned, and testify if called."

Sassinak heaved a dramatic sigh. "Well. I suppose, if you have to, you have to. And maybe you can find something useful, although the Seti are the least likeable bunch of bullies I've ever met."

"They do require careful handling," Dupaynil murmured, almost demurely.

Sassinak wondered what he was up to now. She did not trust him one hairsbreadth. "Very well. Where are we supposed to drop you off?"

"It says your orders will be in shortly and I'm to leave at the next transfer point. Wherever that is."

"Somebody's entirely too clever," Sassinak growled. She hoped she hadn't been clever enough to trip herself with this - but so for Dupaynil seemed convinced.

Just then the junior com officer tapped timidly on her door, and offered a hardcopy of her second faked IFTL message, the one telling her to drop out of FTL drive, and proceed to the nearest Fleet station. The nearest Fleet station was a resupply center with only monthly tanker traffic and the occasional escort or patrol craft dropping by. She remembered it well, from her one previous visit fifteen years before. She showed Dupaynil the orders.

"Supply Center 64: says there's an escort in dock. You'll take that, I imagine?" At his nod, she said, "I'll expect you back at 1500, to give your deposition; we'll have the equipment set up by then, and an ETA for the supply center."

The rest of that day Sassinak hardly dared look at Ford; she would have burst out laughing. Dupaynil came back, gave his testimony while she asked every question she could think of before she sent him off to pack his gear.

They popped out of FTL space within a few hours of the supply center. Sassinak had already dispatched messages to it and the escort vessel (whose pilot had been planning an unauthorized three-day party with the supply center's crew). Escorts, not large enough to house a Ssli, were out of the IFTL links. Once aboard, Dupaynil would have only sublight ways of checking up on his orders.

Docking the Zaid-Dayan at the supply station was simple: the station had equipment to handle large transports of all shapes, and the small escort took up only a minute space at the far end of the station. Sassinak indulged herself, as she rarely could anymore, and brought the cruiser in herself, easing it to the gantry so gently that no one detected contact until the status tights changed color.

"Nice job!" said the station Dockmaster, a Weft. "We'll have air up in the tubes in a few minutes. Is your passenger ready to transfer?"

"Ready when you are."

Dupaynil would leave by one of the small hatches, an airlock on the second flight deck. Even with a Fleet facility, Sassinak didn't like opening up real interior space to a possible pressure loss. She glanced at Dupaynil, visible on one of the side screens, and flicked a switch to put him on-channel.

"They're airing up the tube. Sure you don't want a pressure suit?"

"No thank you."

He had already explained how he felt about pressure suits. Sassinak was tempted to teach him a lesson about that, but under the circumstances she wanted their parting to be as friendly as possible.

"Fine… we're standing by for your departure signal." She could see, in the monitor, the light above the hatch come on, flick twice, and steady to green.

"On my way," said Dupaynil. Then he paused, and faced the monitor-cam squarely. "Commander? I did not intend to cause you trouble and I have no idea what that initiation code means to you. You may not believe me, but I have no desire to see you hurt."

And I have a great desire to see your back going off my ship, thought Sassinak, but she smiled for his benefit. "I'd like to believe you, and if that's true, I hope we serve together again someday. Have a good trip. Don't let those Seti use you for nest padding."

When the status lights confirmed that Dupaynil was safely off the ship and into the station, Sassinak breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could tell Ford what she was up to - or enough for him to help her with the last of Dupaynil's maneuver. That involved a bit of straight talking to the escort captain, on the need for immediate departure, and the importance of keeping his mouth firmly shut. Sassinak kept the Zaid-Dayan linked to the station until the escort broke away.

"And just how did you manage that?" Ford had waited just long enough for her to engage her office's privacy circuits. Sassinak grinned at him. "And don't bother to look innocent," he went on. "I don't know how you did it, but you must have."

"Let's just say that someone who's spent her career on ships knows a bit more about them than a Security office rat."

"And you're not going to explain, eh?"

"Not entirely. Would you trust Dupaynil to have undipped whatever bugs he's set out on this ship?"

"Mmm. I see."

"And you are smart enough to figure out everything you need to know. You can think about it while looking up your remarkable relative."

"But what about the depositions? I can't leave now!" His face changed expression suddenly. "Oh. The only one who knew about those orders is… Gods above, Captain, what did you do?"

"Used the resources available to make appropriate dispositions of personnel in a situation of extreme delicacy," said Sassinak crisply. "And that's all I'm going to say about it. Your assignment is to uncover whatever links you can between the suspect merchant families and planet piracy and the slave trade. On my orders, by my assessment that this need overrides any other orders you may have heard about."

"Ummm… yes, ma'am."

"Good. Dupaynil, meanwhile, is supposed to be investigating the Seti and their connection with all this nastiness. I have heard, from time to time, that the Seti expressed sympathy with the heavyworlders for having been the victims of genetic engineering. You remember that they believe all such activity is wrong and refuse any kind of bioengineering on their own behalf. They're also known to hate Wefts, although no one seems to know why, and the Wefts won't comment."

"I've never understood why the Seti came into the Federation at all," Ford said. He seemed glad enough of a detour.

"Let Dupaynil worry about that," Sassinak said. "Now, d'you think a direct call to your family will locate your great aunt?"

"No, probably not. Let me think. The family hears at least once a standard year at Homefaring, but that's five months away. And she travels, you know; she's supposed to have one of the most luxurious yachts in space. We might find her in one of the society papers."

"Society papers!"

Ford flushed. "She's that fend; I told you. Minor aristocracy, but considers herself well up there. Once we locate her, I can fake - I mean arrange - a message from the family to justify a visit."

Sassinak did not even know the names of the papers Ford called up on their next shift down into normal space. She glanced at the sheets as he passed them over: even in flat copy, the photographs fairly glittered with wealth. Women in jewels and glistening gowns, men in formal Court dress, ribbons streaming from one knee. The sumptuous interiors of 'gracious homes' as they were called, homes that existed merely to show off their owners' wealth. Sassinak could not imagine actually sleeping in one of the beds shown, a 'sculpted masterpiece' with a stream of moving water actually running through it. She could feel her lip curling.

"Ah! Here she is." Ford had his finger on the place. "Among the notable guests at the wedding - would you look at that so-called bride! - is my very own noble relative. Will travel on to participate in the Season at the usual Rainbow Arc events… which means she's somewhere between Zalaive and the Rainbow Arc. Permission to initiate search?"

"Go ahead." Sassinak was deep in a discussion of the reasons why cuulinda was destined to replace folsath as the newest sporting rage among the nobility. She hadn't heard of either, and the article didn't mention whether they were played with teams, animals, or computers. Ford busied himself at the terminal, checking Fleet's comprehensive database on vessel ownership and movement on the lowlink.

"Ah! She's en route to Colles, ETA two weeks, and there's a… Oh snarks!"

"A what?" asked Sassinak, looking up at his tone.

"Well. I can get to her by her next planetfall, but it means hitching a ride on a tanker-transport."

Sassinak grinned at him. Tankers had a reputation as bare-bones tranportation, and they played out that game on visitors.

"It'll make the contrast all the greater." She looked at the route he'd found. "I'll cut your orders, get you on that patrol-class. Don't forget to arrange that family message somehow."

"I won't."

His routing didn't give them much time, but, with Lunzie and Dupaynil both out of the way, they enjoyed a last festive evening in Sassinak's cabin. Then he was gone, and Sassinak had the final planning to do as they approached the crowded inner sector of the Federation.

She wondered how Aygar would react to the publicity and culture shock of FedCentral. He had been using the data banks on the Zaid-Dayan several hours a day. Ford kept a record of his access. He'd talked to both Marines and Fleet enlisted personnel and word of that trickled back to Sassinak by channels she doubted Aygar knew about. He had asked to take some of the basic achievement tests, to gauge for himself where he stood educationally. Sassinak had given permission, even though Dr. Mayerd thought 'the boy', as she called him, should have professional advice.

The test results lay in the computer files. Sassinak had not accessed them, out of respect for the little privacy Aygar had, but from his demeanor he seemed well pleased with himself. She was less certain.

He was a striking young man, attractive if you liked muscles and regular features, and she admitted to herself that she did. But except for that subtle sense of rivalry with Lunzie, she would not have been drawn to him. She liked men of experience, men with whom she could share her broad background. Fleet officers of her own rank, or near it. It was all very well to impress youngsters like that ensign Timran. No woman minded starry-eyed boys as long as they stayed respectful. But Aygar did not fit that category, or any other.

"Commander? Central Docks wants a word."

That brought her out of her reverie, and across the passage onto the bridge. She had never brought a ship in to Federation Central's Docking Station before. Few did; Fleet protected the center of Federation government services, but was not entirely welcome here in force. Some races, and some humans, feared military rebellion and takeover. Hence the slow approach, dropping to sublight drive well outside the system, zigging and zagging (at high cost in fuel and time) to make unhandy checkpoints where defense satellites scrutinized their appearance and orders.

"Commander Sassinak, FSP cruiser Zaid-Dayan," said Sassinak.

"Ah… Commander… ah… procedures for securing armament, as required by the Federation for all incoming warships, must be complete before your vessel passes the outer shell."

Sassinak frowned, catching Arly's eye. The Zaid-Dayan could, in fact, take on most planetary defenses; she could understand why the more nervous members of the Federation would not want a human-crewed, fully armed heavy cruiser over their heads. But her trust in Federation Security right now was severely limited. She did not want her ship vulnerable.

"Securing," she said, with a nod to Arly.

Arly was scowling, but more with concentration than discontent. They had already discussed what to do; it remained to see if it would work. As a technical problem, Sassinak thought, watching Arly's hands rove her control board, it was interesting.

The Federation had only one telepathic race, the Wefts. Since the Wefts usually got along with humans, and had nothing to gain by disarming Fleet ships, any Wefts were unlikely to complain. The Seti would certainly complain of anything they recognized, and the pacifist members of the Federation, the Bronthin, would drop their foals if they knew. But would they know? Would they consider weaponry the same way Sassinak and Arly did?

The more obvious armament, items specified in the ship's Fleet classification, had to be secured. In this context, that meant control circuits patched out, projectile weapons unloaded and projectiles secured in locked compartments, power detached from EM projectors and opticals. A FedCentral Insystem Security team would be aboard, guarding access to these areas, to prevent anyone from launching a missile, or frying something with a laser.

But the Zaid-Dayaris power did not reside only in its named armaments. The most dangerous weapon you will ever control, one of her instructors had said back in the Academy, is right here: between your ears. The weapons you can see, or hold in your hand, are only chunks of metal and plastic.

Arly and Sassinak together had worked out ways of bypassing the patchouts, producing readouts that looked clean, while the systems involved still functioned. Not the projectiles. Someone could look and actually see whether or not a launcher had anything in the tube. But the EM and opticals, and the locks on the missile and ammunitions storage bins, could appear to be locked.

"Admiral Coromell's office," said Sassinak, facing the ident screen squarely. She had no idea where on this planet the Admiral would be, but the comcomp would take care of that. Surely there was only one Admiral Coromell at this time.

"Admiral Coromell's office, Lieutenant. Commander Dollish speaking." Dallish looked like most Lieutenant Commanders stuck with shore duty: slightly bored but wary. When he'd had a moment to take in Sassinak's rank, his eyes brightened. "Commander Sassinak! A pleasure, ma'am. We've heard about your exciting tour!"

Sassinak let herself smile. She should have realized that, of course, rumor would have spread so far. Fleet kept no secrets from itself. "Not entirely my idea. Is the Admiral available?"

Dallish looked genuinely disappointed. "No, Commander, he's not. He's gone rhuch hunting over on Six and won't be back for several weeks Standard. You could go and -"

Sassinak shook her head. "No, worse luck. Orders say to deliver my prisoner and stand by for pre-trial depositions and hearings."

"Kipling's copper corns! Sorry, Commander. That's too bad. This is no port for a cruiser."

"Don't I know it! Look, is there anywhere I can give leave to the crew who aren't involved? Someplace they can have a good time and not get into too much trouble?" She did not miss the change in Dallish's expression, a sudden cool wariness. Had she caused it, or something in his office outside the scan area?

"Commander, perhaps I'd better come aboard, and you can give me your message for Admiral Coromell in person."

Perfectly correct, perfectly formal, and completely wrong: she had said nothing yet about any message. Sassinak's experienced hackles rose. "Fine," she said. "What time shall we expect you?"

"Oh… sixteen hundred Fleet Standard; that's twenty-three fifty local."

Late, in other words. Late enough Fleet time that he wouldn't be going back to the Admiral's office afterwards; very late in local time.

"Very well. Fleet shuttle, or..

"Federation Insystem Security shuttle, Commander. Fleet has no dedicated planetary shuttles."

Oho, Sassinak thought. So Fleet personnel onplanet are isolated unless Security lets them fly? She asked for, and got, an identification profile, and signed off. When she looked around, her bridge crew had clearly been fastening.

"I don't like that," she said to Arly. "If - when - I go downside, I'll want one of our shuttles available, just in case.

Arly nodded, eyes twinkling. Sassinak knew she was thinking of the last shuttle expedition. And young Timran's unexpectedly lucky rashness.

"Weapons systems lockdown is supposed to include shuttle lockdown," Arly reminded her.

Sassinak did not bother to answer; Arly had had her orders. They understood each other. She hoped an unauthorized shuttle flight would not be necessary. But if it was, she trusted that Arly would arrange it somehow.

Lieutenant Commander Dallish, when he appeared in her office shortly after debarking from the Security shuttle, apologized for his earlier circumlocutions.

"The Admiral told me he considers you in a unique position to provide evidence against the planet pirates," he said. "For that reason, he warned me to take every precaution if you contacted his office. I don't really think that anyone there is a traitor, but with that much traffic… and one of them a Council bureaucrat… I decided not to take chances."

"Very wise," said Sassinak.

In person he looked just as he had on the screen: perhaps five years younger than she, professional without being stuffy, obviously intelligent.

"You asked about liberty for your crew. Frankly, you could not be in a worse place, particularly right now. You know the Grand Council's in session this year?"

Sassinak hated to admit that she had only the vaguest idea how the Federation Grand Council actually scheduled its work, and gave a noncommittal response. Dallish went on as if she'd said something intelligent.

"All the work gets done in the preliminary Section meetings, of course: the Grand Council's mostly a formality. But it does overlap the Winter Assizes; a convenience for delegates when a major intercultural case is on the schedule. As it is now. And that means the hotels are already filling up - yes, months early - with delegations from every member. Support staff arriving early. Your crew, since they've been involved in the case, will of course have to be debriefed by Fleet Intelligence and Federation Security. And if they go onplanet after that, they'll be harrassed by the news-media. "

Sassinak frowned. "Well, they can't stay locked up in the ship the entire tune. We're not going anywhere and there's not enough to do." In the back of her mind, she was running over all the miserable long-hour chores that she could assign, but with the weapons systems locked, and flight decks supposedly off limits, nothing but cleaning the whole environmental system with toothbrushes would keep everyone busy.

"My advice, Captain, would be to see if those who've been deposed, and whose testimony is at best minor, couldn't be released to go on long liberty over on Six. That's a recreational reserve: hunting, fishing, sailing, a few good casinos. Fleet has a lodge in the mountains, too. They'd have to go by civilian carrier, but at least they'd be out of your hair."

"I don't like splitting my crew." Without calling up the figures, she couldn't be sure just how far away Six was: days of travel, anyway, on a civilian insystem ferry, perhaps more. If something did happen… She shut that line of thought down. Better to clean the whole environmental system with toothbrushes. Preparedness, she'd noticed, tended to keep trouble from happening. And there were worse problems than boredom.