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figuring out we were outgunned before we'd come in close-scan range," one of
the biotechs was saying one day as Sassinak passed quietly along on a routine
inspection of the environmental system. "I
wouldn't have guessed that the initial readouts were wrong . . . whoever heard
of someone fooling with an IFF?" Sassinak smiled grimly: that wasn't a new
trick, and bridge crew all knew it. But it was nice to have credit somewhere.
Too bad that she discovered a minor leak in the detox input filter line, and
had to file a report on the very tech who'd been defending her.
The environmental system was, in fact, a nagging worry. Among the
modifications made on station, a rerouting of most of the main lines had meant
shifting them into cramped, hard-to-inspect compartments rather than out in
the open where inspection was easy. Sassinak remembered her first cruise, and
the awkwardness of it. Supposedly the equipment now mounted in midline was
worth it, in the protection it gave from enemy surveillance, but if the
environmental system failed, they would have a miserable trip back - if they
survived. Sassinak glared at the big gray cylinders that lay in recesses
originally meant for pipelines. They'd better work. In the meantime, either
because of the less efficient layout,
with its more variable line pressures, or because the line was harder to
inspect, minor leaks repeatedly developed in one or another subsystem.
Of course, it could be sabotage. That's why she walked the lines herself,
struggling to relearn the details of the system so that she knew what she was
looking for. But in any complicated system of tubing and pumps, a thousand
opportunities exist for subtle acts of sabotage, and she didn't expect to find
anything obvious. She was right.
As the ship's days passed in pursuit, with the Ssli certain that it had a lock
on the ships ahead, Huron finally came around. Literally, as he appeared at
her cabin door with a peace offering: wine and pastries.
Sassinak had not realized how much she'd missed his support until she saw the
old grin on his face.
"Peace offering," he said. Typically, he wasn't trying to pretend they'd had
no quarrel. Sassinak nodded, and waved him in. He set the basket of hot,
sugary treats on her desk, and opened the wine. They settled down in
comfortable chairs, one on either side of the pastry basket, and munched in
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harmony for a few minutes.
"I was afraid they'd split up, or we'd lose them," he said with a sideways
glance. "And then when we got the final scan on the escort - that it might
have been fatal to take it on - I knew you were right, but I just couldn't - "
"Never mind." Sassinak leaned back against the padded chair. Just to have
someone to talk with, to relax with - it wasn't over, and it was going to get
worse before it got better, but if Huron could accept her decision . .
.
"I wish we knew where they're going!" He bit into his pastry so hard that
flaky bits showered across his lap. He muttered a curse through the mouthful
of food, and Sassinak chuckled. Problems and all, life was more fun with Huron
in her cabin some nights.
"Huh. Don't we all! And I don't dare send anything back to Sector HQ in case
something intercepts it. . ."
"Remember when Ssli and the IFTL system were new, and we were sure no one else
had them?" He was still swiping crumbs from his lap, and looked up at her with
the mischievous lift of eyebrow she'd come to love.
"Sure do." Sassinak ran her hands through her dark hair, and flipped the ends
toward him. His eyes widened, then narrowed again.
"One track mind." He shook his head at her.
"You're any different?" Sassinak pointed to the now-empty pastry basket and
the bottle of wine. "Think I can't recognize bait when I see it?"
"Brains with your beauty - and a few other things ..." His eyes finished what
she had started, and they were more than halfway undressed when
Sassinak remembered to switch the intercom to alert-only. The bridge crew knew
what that meant, she thought with satisfaction, before dragging the big
brilliantly rainbowed comforter over the pair of them.
"And what I still don't understand," said Huron, far more awake than usual for
0200, "is how they could mount all that on a hull that size. Are they crewing
it with midgets, or what?"
Sassinak had taken a short nap, and wakened to find Huron tracing elaborate
curlicues on her back while he stared at the readout on the overhead display.
She yawned, pushed back a thick tangle of hair, and reached up to switch the
display off. "Later ..."
He switched it back on. "No, seriously - "
"Seriously, I'm sleepy. Turn it off, or go look at it somewhere else."
He glowered at her. "Some Fleet captain you are, lazing around like someone's
lapcat after a dish of cream."
Sassinak purred loudly, yawned again, and realized she was going to wake all
the way up, like it or not. "Big weapons, small hull. Reminds me of
something." Huron blushed, extensively, and Sassinak snapped her teeth at him.
"Call your captain a cat, and you deserve to get bit, chum. If we're going to
go back to work, I'm getting dressed." She felt a lot better, relaxed and
alert all at once.
Now that she was awake, she realized that she had not followed through on the
analysis of the escort vessel as carefully as she could have. She'd been
thinking too much about her main decision and its implications.
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