In the Officer’s off-duty bay, Signal Lieutenant Pryor straightened from over the billiard table as the nasal voice of the command deck yeoman broke into the recorded dance music:
“Now hear this. Commodore Broadly will address the ship’s company.”
“Ten to one he says we’ve lost the bandit,” Supply Captain Aaron eyed the annunciator panel.
“Gentlemen,” the sonorous tones of the ship’s commander sounded relaxed, unhurried. “We now have a clear track on the Djann blockade runner, which indicates he will attempt to evade our Inner Line defenses and lose himself in Rim territory. In this, I propose to disappoint him. I have directed Colonel Lancer to launch interceptors to take up station along a conic, subsuming thirty degrees on axis from the presently constructed vector. We may expect contact in approximately three hours’ time.” A recorded bos’n’s whistle shrilled the end-of-message signal.
“So?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “A three-million-tonner swats a ten-thousand-ton side-boat. Big deal.”
“That boat can punch just as big a hole in the blockade as a Super-D,” Pryor said. “Not that the Djann have any of those left to play with.”
“We kicked the damned spiders back into their home system ten years ago,” Aaron said tiredly. “In my opinion, the whole Containment operation’s a boondoggle to justify a ten-million-man Fleet.”
“As long as there are any of them alive, they’re a threat,” Pryor repeated the slogan.
“Well, Broadly sounds as though he’s got the bogie in the bag,” Aaron yawned.
“Maybe he has,” Pryor addressed the ball carefully, sent the ivory sphere cannoning against the target. “He wouldn’t go on record with it if he didn’t think he was on to a sure thing.”
“He’s a disappointed ’ceptor jockey. What makes him think that pirate won’t duck back of a blind spot and go dead?”
“It’s worth a try—and if he nails it, it will be a feather in his cap.”
“Another star on his collar, you mean.”
“Uh-huh, that too.”
“We’re wasting our time,” Aaron said. “But that’s his lookout. Six ball in the corner pocket.”