Hegemony (56 page)

"I was going to say, what you did was in the finest tradition of the Hegemonic Fleet."

"Well. I'll take that in the spirit it was meant, Captain. And I hope you'll take it in the spirit I mean it when I say, fuck off. I don't do
anything
in the traditions of the Hegemonic Fleet. On the other hand, I accept the implicit compliment."

"I... see. Very well. It will take us some time to prepare for an FTL transit. When we're ready, I'd like you to coordinate with us. We'll escort your ship back... just to make sure there are no misunderstandings from our side. At this point, I think I can confidently promise that you will get your bounty."

"Thank you, Captain Tralk. I think you mean that, and I appreciate it. I really do."

"In my opinion, Captain Killick, you have earned it. Meanwhile, you can shut down your drive.
Ice Knife
will pick up our interceptor."

"No, Captain Tralk.
Ice Knife
will not. Thank you for the promise of a bounty, but like you said, you're not the one in charge. I really do believe you'd see me get a reward. Maybe even a big one. But the Hegemonic authorities? Don't forget who, and what, I am. I think, with all your efforts, I'd be lucky to get away with my life and my crew. I doubt they'd let me keep my ship.

"So, no. I'm going to let the chance for the bounty go, I think. But the interceptor will make a decent reward in the mean time. Like you said, we've earned it. And we expended a lot of valuable warheads on this fight, so it's even fair, making sure we at least break even."

"Captain Killick," said Freya, "I sorry, but I cannot allow that!"

"Don't bother to protest, Demi-Captain Tralk," Nas said. "You can't actually stop me. And you owe me. Don't worry. I'll let your pilot link back to your ship... if she wants."

"Shut down the link to the
Ice Knife
, Warez. I think we've heard enough for now," Nas said, turning back to his crew. There were brightening smiles on their faces. Ylayn's carnivorous grin was feral.

"Now," Nas said, "give me a link to the interceptor."

"Yes, Captain."

"Zandy..."

"Captain Killick," came the reply.

"How are you?"

"Intact. No serious damage, actually. A little thermal shock in the hull, some sensors burned out. They didn't get too much laser energy on me."

"That was a hell of an attack run, Zandy," Nas said. "Fucking beautiful."

"I made it. They didn't. I guess I got revenge."

"Yeah, revenge..." Nas said. There was a long pause.

"You're going to steal this 'ceptor, Captain Tralk tells me," Zandy said, finally. Her voice didn't sound too upset about the idea.

"Yup. I earned it. My crew earned it. It's a valuable piece of gear. An intact Hegemonic Fleet interceptor, a modern one, is worth more than the warheads I expended. Don't worry, you can get back to the
Ice Knife
. I'm not trying to kidnap you."

"Oh. Right, OK."

"On the other hand, not that I expect you to say yes... but if you want, you've got a place on my ship... Fuck, I've got all sorts of freaks in my crew. A daemon would fit right in."

"I guess I'm flattered," Zandy said, "but you already know the answer."

"I guess I do," Nas said, and terminated the connection.

Whisperknife
drifted, the crew resting in free-fall after the tense high-gee battle-maneuvers trapped in their acceleration pods. The interceptor was close now. There could be a little trouble if the pilot tried to evade their docking attempt, but her delta-vee was very limited. Perhaps it would be better to send the shuttle to collect the interceptor, Nas thought. That way there would be no temptation for Zandy to try to damage the
Whisperknife
in some desperate, duty-bound attempt at keeping the interceptor out of void-runner hands.

There was a communications request tugging at his attention, coming from the interceptor. Nas accepted the link.

"Nas," came Zandy's voice.

"That should be 'Captain' to you, Zandy," Nas answered, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.

"Why? I didn't sign on with your crew. But anyway, fine, Captain, I'd like you to do me a favor."

"Maybe. But if it's about not picking up the 'ceptor, forget it. For that matter, why haven't you linked back to
Ice Knife
?"

"I've got a reason. And no, my favor's not that. I'd like you to link into a VR. Your ship can't receive the hyper-bandwidth signal from this 'ceptor to get me back in to the biosim I left on your ship, and I don't really like talking over a data-link... I'd like to talk to you 'face to face...' if that isn't too much of a joke..."

"No. I think I understand. A bit odd for a daemon, maybe."

"Sure, a bit odd."

"Actually, I think I understand pretty well. Sure, I'll link in to your VR."

Nas had a virtual reality persona stored in his personal data unit. It was not something he used often, but once in a while he would conduct meeting in a VR. He had not lavished time or money on his VR persona, but Ylayn had made a bit of a project of it; she liked to indulge in a high fidelity VR, and sometimes convinced Nas to come along, using the high quality persona she had crafted for him.

Nas unspooled a data cable from his command pod and linked in, accepting the data stream beaming in from Zandy's interceptor. He did not expect much from the tiny little fighter's computer, but it would be enough to manage a conversation.

There was a moment of disorientation, and he was "in" the VR, interacting via his VR persona, feeling and seeing simulated data created by the interceptor's computer.

Nas "looked" around. He was alone in a small virtual space; a simple white chamber, like the underside of a small dome. The floor was soft and yielding. It felt like about one gee: standard gravity, which was a bit jarring after so long in high gee maneuvers or in free-fall. Of course, the feeling of gravity, like all sensations here, was just part of the VR.

There was just a single point light source, though he could not actually see it, which was unrealistic, but probably served to reduce the processor power this little virtual room required. He'd seen much better VRs, but the simplicity of this one allowed for a decent sensory resolution. The sensation of breathing and standing in his VR persona "body" felt almost real.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked towards the empty room. "Are you even here?"

"I'm here," Zandy said.

Nas said nothing. Zandy had manifested a high resolution VR body, looking very much like her biosim avatar. She was lovely. And naked.

"I decided, before the battle, that I wanted this," she said, crossing the few steps to stand right in front of Nas. "But there was no time to do it on your ship, and your cat might have been jealous."

"She's not actually the jealous type," Nas said, reaching out and taking the tall, slim woman in his arms. She pressed against him and kissed him, first softly, and then with intensity, pressing her tongue against his.

Nas didn't really go for VR sex, not as a rule, but it seemed that the little interceptor's computer had enough power to make the tiny VR pretty high fidelity, at least where it counted. And maybe it was Zandy who made it better than Nas had expected.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked, when they were done, lying next to her, feeling her body against his. Her skin was warm and damp, and, for a moment, it didn't matter that it was just VR, just artificial neural impulses generated by a computer program and sent into his brain through a data link.

"Yes. It was what I wanted. I think you enjoyed it, too."

"Sure," Nas said. "I wouldn't mind doing it again, for real next time... or
is
it more real to you in your avatar?"

"Yes, it's more real in a biosim avatar. Actually, I can't tell the difference, or can't remember a difference, between what it feels like in my biosim avatar and what my birth-body felt like. But this was nice too."

"So now what? You go back to your Fleet?" Nas asked.

"Yes. It's where I belong. My extended family, I guess. I'm sorry for what they did to
you
, but it's still
my
home... warts and all.

"And I'm sorry about this, too," Zandy went on. "If we ever meet again, and you're not too mad, I think I'd like to take you up on your offer. Maybe dinner, and then a nice room together for the night... or even a few nights."

"What are you sorry about?" Nas asked.

"You could even bring your cat... I actually like girls, you know."

"Really? OK. But sorry about what?"

"I have to go," Zandy said, and Nas was suddenly alone in the VR.

"Fuck," he said, and disconnected, finding himself back in his command pod on the bridge of the
Whisperknife
, where, in fact, he had always been.

"Captain," Warez said. "We've picked up a little side-scatter from what I think is a hyper-bandwidth link between the interceptor and the swift-ship.

"Right," Nas said. "That's Zandy heading back."

"Shit!" exclaimed Warez suddenly, and Nas linked into the sensor officer's data feed. And saw what made him exclaim.

The interceptor was an expanding sphere of debris and incandescent gas.

"Demolition charge," Nas mused, not even sure if he was angry or not.
That
was what she'd been sorry about...

"FTL initiation," Warez said, calmly this time, sending the data to Nas. "Looks like the
Ice Knife
is out of here."

Nas shook his head, trying for a moment to decide how angry he should be. Fucking missile guidance unit with delusions of humanity, he thought. She has got some fire in her though... and a sense of style.

"Stand by for acceleration," he said, focusing on the command data feed.

"What now, Captain," asked Xulios. "We fucking needed that interceptor... with the cost of the warheads we used..."

"Never mind, Xulios," Nas said. "Warez, get me a sensor scan back along our vector line. There's a more-or-less intact Coalition interceptor drifting somewhere back there. Ought to be worth something."

Whisperknife'
s plasma drive flared as Nas boosted his ship towards his prize.

"Admiral Narita," said
Freya Tralk as the tall man stepped up to her.

His steps showed that he was not perfectly adapted to the spin-gravity of the Neomegara Fleet Orbital Station. Stepping with the spin made the pseudo-gravity feel lighter, against the spin made it feel heavier. The admiral claimed to be more used to free-fall, spending as much time as he could aboard the assault-ship
Battle Lord
, his flag-ship. Sometimes he would even beam back to the ship at the end of a day's meetings and hearings, switching to a backup avatar he kept aboard.

Freya wasn't perfectly used to the spin gravity either, but then, she thought, she was still a bit clumsy in her new custom avatar. It was a superb avatar, she had to admit. Far better than the back-up avatar she had been using. Better even than the one she had abandoned, shot almost to uselessness, back on Yuro IV. It had taken the custom shop more than a hundred hours to complete.

The admiral smiled as he looked down at her. His cloned bio-avatar matched his original height of just over two meters, and he towered over Freya's one meter, sixty six centimeters.

"That was a good report, Demi-Captain Tralk," he said. "I think the board has the answers it needs."

"I hope so, Sir. I have to admit I'm happy to be done with it."

"Yes, I can understand that. You aren't the only one, I think. That civilian captain, Rilk; I think he looked almost celebratory when his testimony was finally over. I'm sorry we had to put him through that, but it was necessary.

"And I'm sorry that you weren't able to keep command of the
Ice Knife
in the end. But we need that ship repaired and deployed, and we needed you here for the hearings."

"I understand, Sir," Freya said, managing to keep her voice neutral.

"I expect we'll have a command for you soon enough, Captain. We need to make best use of your talents..."

"Thank you, Sir," Freya said. Then, "what do you think will happen, Sir?"

"You mean with the Coalition, or with the infiltration on Yuro?"

"Both, Sir," Freya said.

"Yuro has been 'reinforced' with a substantial squadron. The local SDF is being investigated by Central Throne Inspectorate agents. From the last communication, no one has found the missing Central Throne representative yet, but what's left of his records seems to point to confirming your suspicions.

"The fact is, it's a mess. The local
aristokratai
families are all being investigated as well, to see if there's evidence of treason. A mess."

"Sorry, Sir."