them.
“Unbelievable,” Talbot said. “I don’t see how we got away with that.”
“A little luck and a lot of skill,” Orlova said, pulling the communicator up again, “Great work, Harper.”
“Maggie,” she replied, “That wasn’t me. I was a second from telling you to brake.”
“If it wasn’t you, then who the hell was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tarrant,” Orlova said, shaking her head. “Damn me for a fool.”
“What?” Talbot asked.
Looking across at him, she said, “Now he’s got me. He knows that I can’t release that footage, not without bringing everything down around our ears, and now I can be charged with aiding and abetting the escape of an enemy prisoner of war. He must have known that I’d come after him.”
“Why not just capture you?”
“I’m guessing we’re on his backup plan. Once we got out of the building, I suspect we were home free.” She shook her head, and said, “I don’t like dancing to someone else’s tune.”
“What now, Maggie?” Harper asked.
“Get to Site Y, and we’ll make our way from there,” she said. “Let’s just hope no-one else gets there first.”
“Out of interest,” the Commandant asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“You have an appointment with the President, sir, and my job is to make sure that you don't miss it.”
Chapter 6
Marshall looked at the tactical display on the viewscreen, shaking his head. Two Cabal battlecruisers in any state of repair were enough of a threat to be worried about, but his force was superior in every way to them at present. With two battlecruisers, three scoutships and a fighter squadron to play with, he had all the options a commander would want, and had deployed his strike force accordingly, ready to intercept them.
This commander had developed a reputation for trickery, but this time, Marshall just couldn’t see what he could be up to. There was a chance that he might vector away, head for the hendecaspace point and leave the system, in which case he would probably just let him go and avoid an unnecessary battle. If he’d wanted to do that, though, he’d had far more options where he was at the planet.
“I don’t like it either,” Cunningham said, catching his expression . “All of this is just too damn convenient for my liking.”
“Perhaps we took out their commander in the last battle,” Caine suggested, “and this is someone with less experience.”
“Then why didn’t he attack sooner?” Marshall replied. “How’s our squadron.”
“Meshed and ready to go,” she said with a smile. “We ought to be better than we were last time; we’ve had a lot more chances to practice.”
“Message from Lieutenant-Major Brownworth,” the communications technician said. “Wishes us good luck in the battle a head.”
“Acknowledge, Spaceman, and send my thanks and compliments. Nothing from the enemy flotilla?”
“Thermopylae and I have been calling constantly since they broke orbit, sir, and haven’t picked up any signals at all.”
“Why’s Frank calling them?” Cunningham asked. “Did you order it?”
“Ninety seconds to firing range,” Caine said. “Kelso, keep us in tight formation. Danny, I need firing orders.”
“I think you can assume that you can fire at will this time,” Marshall said, still pondering Cunningham’s question. “We don’t have enough of an advantage that we can yield the first shot.”
“Always good to here. Seventy-five seconds to go.”
“Get me Thermopylae and Gilgamesh,” Marshall said, turning to the communications station. “On your monitors, if you please.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied, and after a short delay, two faces appeared on the monitor, sitting on their respective bridges. Captain Gorski of Gilgamesh on the right, his perpetual scowl staining his face, and Frank Rogers on the left, looking around the
“Unbelievable,” Talbot said. “I don’t see how we got away with that.”
“A little luck and a lot of skill,” Orlova said, pulling the communicator up again, “Great work, Harper.”
“Maggie,” she replied, “That wasn’t me. I was a second from telling you to brake.”
“If it wasn’t you, then who the hell was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tarrant,” Orlova said, shaking her head. “Damn me for a fool.”
“What?” Talbot asked.
Looking across at him, she said, “Now he’s got me. He knows that I can’t release that footage, not without bringing everything down around our ears, and now I can be charged with aiding and abetting the escape of an enemy prisoner of war. He must have known that I’d come after him.”
“Why not just capture you?”
“I’m guessing we’re on his backup plan. Once we got out of the building, I suspect we were home free.” She shook her head, and said, “I don’t like dancing to someone else’s tune.”
“What now, Maggie?” Harper asked.
“Get to Site Y, and we’ll make our way from there,” she said. “Let’s just hope no-one else gets there first.”
“Out of interest,” the Commandant asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“You have an appointment with the President, sir, and my job is to make sure that you don't miss it.”
Chapter 6
Marshall looked at the tactical display on the viewscreen, shaking his head. Two Cabal battlecruisers in any state of repair were enough of a threat to be worried about, but his force was superior in every way to them at present. With two battlecruisers, three scoutships and a fighter squadron to play with, he had all the options a commander would want, and had deployed his strike force accordingly, ready to intercept them.
This commander had developed a reputation for trickery, but this time, Marshall just couldn’t see what he could be up to. There was a chance that he might vector away, head for the hendecaspace point and leave the system, in which case he would probably just let him go and avoid an unnecessary battle. If he’d wanted to do that, though, he’d had far more options where he was at the planet.
“I don’t like it either,” Cunningham said, catching his expression . “All of this is just too damn convenient for my liking.”
“Perhaps we took out their commander in the last battle,” Caine suggested, “and this is someone with less experience.”
“Then why didn’t he attack sooner?” Marshall replied. “How’s our squadron.”
“Meshed and ready to go,” she said with a smile. “We ought to be better than we were last time; we’ve had a lot more chances to practice.”
“Message from Lieutenant-Major Brownworth,” the communications technician said. “Wishes us good luck in the battle a head.”
“Acknowledge, Spaceman, and send my thanks and compliments. Nothing from the enemy flotilla?”
“Thermopylae and I have been calling constantly since they broke orbit, sir, and haven’t picked up any signals at all.”
“Why’s Frank calling them?” Cunningham asked. “Did you order it?”
“Ninety seconds to firing range,” Caine said. “Kelso, keep us in tight formation. Danny, I need firing orders.”
“I think you can assume that you can fire at will this time,” Marshall said, still pondering Cunningham’s question. “We don’t have enough of an advantage that we can yield the first shot.”
“Always good to here. Seventy-five seconds to go.”
“Get me Thermopylae and Gilgamesh,” Marshall said, turning to the communications station. “On your monitors, if you please.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied, and after a short delay, two faces appeared on the monitor, sitting on their respective bridges. Captain Gorski of Gilgamesh on the right, his perpetual scowl staining his face, and Frank Rogers on the left, looking around the
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