"All right, "Hammer said to Coeur and Drop Kick, "either of you recognize that?"

  Drop Kick had to admit that he didn’t, but Coeur answered confidently.

  "Yes, sir, a force field generator."

  "Indeed. This one, as it happens, is a 10-ton model, probably with a 10 percent flicker rate, apparently discovered by Zero on Mexit before the local Teddie punched his ticket. The trader who supplied us with this picture said he purchased it from a soldier of the Mexitan state called Soledad, where Zero was last seen."

  "If I may, "Drop Kick said, "I'm a little fuzzy on this force field thing—what is it?"

  "Essentially, "Hammer said, "It's a very advanced relic device for creating a free electron field around a starship, absorbing radiation from weapons and sensors and shunting it to a capacitor. Fully activated, it completely conceals and defends a starship, flickered, it provides the starship with partial defense and nearly full firepower."

  Coeur nodded grimly. Oh mon. Who's got it?

  "Any idea if that generator is functional?"

  "No way to know, "Hammer replied, "but that's not our immediate problem. Red Sun, what do you know about the Solee?"

  Coeur shrugged. "Not much, really. Just that Solee is an aggressive planet in the Wilds, beyond the AO. They had several insurgencies going on neighboring worlds, the last I heard."

  "Then you know almost as much as we do—but not quite enough. Papa, explain the astro-political situation."

  Papa nodded, then stood with a poorly hidden grimace as Hammer sat back in his seat. The image of the force field generator shrank to join Zero and was replaced by a holographic star chart depicting the lower, rimward, half of Old Expanses sector. This comprised an area of 222 star systems, but only the 22 systems in Coalition Space and the SO systems in the surrounding Area of Operations were depicted with accurate data profiles.

  "As you know, "Papa began, "our operations are largely restricted to the rim ward-spinward corner of the sector. Now let me highlight the location of Solee and Mexit."

  On the display, two systems close to but distinctly outside the AO suddenly glowed red. Immediately, Coeur and Drop Kick saw the problem.

  "As you can see, Solee is a stone's throw from Mexit—just eight parsecs. In comparison, the closest Coalition worlds are 14 parsecs away. And it gets worse. Recently, our agents have discovered an alarming dimension to the Solee menace—a stockpile of relic imperial and Solomani naval vessels being restored to service."

  "Big ships? "Coeur asked.

  "Bigger than we've got, and more of them. Obviously, they're a threat we need to neutralize, but we won't be in a position to challenge their fleet for at least a year. If the Solee were to gain black globe technology before that point. It could be disastrous."

  "Forget about fleet battles, "Coeur said-"Just one ship with a functioning black globe could nuke a planet's population before the defenders even knew it was there."

  "Well, hell, "Drop Kick said, "someone should do something about that!"

  "Someone will, "Hammer said, gesturing to Papa that he could sit, then returning his attention to the sergeant. "You."

  "Me? "Drop Kick asked, and belatedly added, "Sir?"

  "Both of you, and the crew of Hornet. Effective immediately, Red Sun, you're returned to command of the ship."

  "Sir? "Coeur asked.

  "I know what you're going to say, lieutenant—Hornet's too small and too poorly defended to hit Mexit. Well, you're right, but unfortunately she's also the only ship we've got if I had my choice, I'd send a fully loaded clipper, or at least your Suleiman Victrix, to investigate Mexit, but the clippers are all deployed in the field, and your command won't be repaired for five months. As I'm sure you realize, we use what we have."

  "Yes, sir."

  "The last intelligence we have on Mexit, from before the Collapse, was that the Solomani maintained a stockpile of military hardware, conceivably including more than one of these black globe generators. Therefore, your mission is to investigate the planet and determine if the generators or any other similarly destructive equipment are intact on the planet. If it is, you are either to establish friendly relations with the government controlling those assets or, failing that, destroy them by demolition."

  "And Zero, sir?"

  "Naturally, if Zero or any of his crew are alive. I'll expect you to take appropriate measures to effect their safe return to Oriflamme. However, I do not expect you to take unnecessary risks toward that end."

  "Understood, sir."

  "Anyway, it's not like we're sending you out without any equipment. Thumper, tell them what we've laid in."

  "Right, "Thumper answered, switching the lump he was chewing from one cheek to the other as he examined his notes again. "Since your ship's already lilted for it, we're sending up a drop capsule pod with 15 tubes and six capsules to go with the six suits of heavy battle dress we've turned up. The rest of the tubes we figure we'll fill with a mix of decoy capsules and extra planetary strike and space combat missiles."

  "Any vehicles? "Drop Kick asked.

  "Yes. A G-carrier for ground transport and an intrepid grav tank."

  "An intrepid! "Drop Kick said"I'm impressed."

  "Yeah, you oughta be. But remember, this is a real tank, not like that support sled you took on the Sauler mission, so we're hoping you won't stuff it full of explosives and crash it into any buildings."

  "Yes, sir, "Drop Kick said, positively beaming.

  "You mentioned heavy battle dress, "Coeur said. "Will a Marine team be assigned?"

  "Affirmative, "Hammer answered. 'Thumper's prepared a list of qualified personnel, which we’ll give Drop Kick to narrow down. In the meantime, lieutenant, you'll return to Hornet and get her ready for launch. Fortunately, all your original crew members are still stationed in this system, so they'll be notified of reassignment just as soon as you're done here."

  "What about Physic? I heard her husband's trial begins soon."

  "This mission takes precedence. Physic is one of the best young doctors in the fleet, so her place is on Home t. “

  Coeur was gratified at that—her friend Physic was the real hero of the Sauler expedition, having synthesized the vaccine which arrested the Hiver plague, and did not deserve the snide insinuations of the press that she should have been aware of her husband's collusion with the Guild in distributing the disease. Yet Physic had not saved the one Hiver she most wished she could, and that raised another question for Coeur.

  "With respect, sir, "she said, "not all my original crew is here. We left Scissor on Ra."

  "I've thought about that Given the quality of your crew, you won’t need any help taking care of Hornet's systems, but all the same, it might help to have a Hiver technician along for the trip. I've asked the Technical Academy for a recommendation. They said they'd send someone along before you launch."

  Coeur nodded.

  "There's more data we can give you, "Hammer went on, "old data on Mexit, star charts, that sort of thing, but we'll upload that to Hornet. All we ask is that you don't tell your people what the mission is specifically until you're away."

  "It's that serious? "Coeur asked. "The need for secrecy?"

  "It's that serious, "Papa said. "People don't think about it, because this isn't a police state, but there are powers in the world that would just as soon see this Coalition fold up and fade away."

  "Just keep the talk to a minimum, "Hammer said. "Better to take a few precautions on the front end, than to bury your friends later on."

  "Amen to that, sir."

  Amen to that.

  ***

  On the way out of Hammer's office, Coeur knew a question was forming in Drop Kick's mind, a question she knew he would get around to voicing as soon as he got over the high of having a Model 125-1 Intrepid to play with.

  "An intrepid, "Drop Kick said, as they rode the elevator back to the roof. "It's hard to believe."

  "You're a good tanker, sergeant, I'm sure they trust you with it. ”

  "But what about you. Red? You saw how far it is to Mexit—do you think they'll keep your seat on the Victrix until we get back?"

  "Not a chance, Drop Kick. They'll give her to another skipper."

  "That's rough."

  Coeur shook her head.

  "I don't know about you, Drop Kick, but I'm not in this for my ego. Our responsibility to the future is our first duty."

  "Sorry, sir—I should have known better. But there is another thing I've been thinking about. Myself, I know I need to be on this mission—there's a good chance of ground action and the troops'll need cover from the tank—but it isn't really necessary for Snapper to go, is it?"

  Coeur shook her head, smiling sympathetically.

  "More than you, sergeant. Snapshot's the best missile gunner in her class."

  "All the same, sir..."

  "And I need you, too. The best I can do is try to keep from assigning you to the same ground parties."

  "Yes, sir."

  Drop Kick understood duty, of course—Coeur knew he'd have to after 12 years in the Aubani Marines—and did not raise the issue again. They rode the elevator silently up to the landing platform, then returned to the borrowed air-raft and pursuit of their separate assignments. Since Drop Kick would have to remain on Aubaine, travelling to RCMC HQ on the north coast to select his drop troops, he flew the air-raft this time, taking Coeur back to the pinnace and then moving on to Fort Brierly.

  Even before Coeur returned to Hornet, though. Crowbar knew something was up. Orders had come to prepare the ship for movement, and Coeur herself showed up in a black body sleeve—the unofficial uniform of space duly Arses—with a duffel bag over her shoulder.

  "What's going on, skipper? I heard Hornet has orders to move."

  "Affirmative. Hornet's been transferred from the training command back to field service. Our first job is to move her over to Maintenance Bay 2 so they can install a drop capsule pod."

  "I knew it! It's a smash-and-grab, isn't it?"

  "Unfortunately, Crowbar, I can't tell you that."

  "What? Where the hell are we going?"

  "Like i said, that's classified. Now come on, let's get this tub moving."

  Less than an hour later, the great bay doors above Hornet opened to let her drift free of the station. Under Coeur's control,

  she hung in place until the huge doors of Maintenance Bay 2 rolled underneath and rumbled open to admit the little freighter.

  "Going out to save the universe again? "Yard Master Goodwrench asked, meeting Coeur and Crowbar at the lowered forward cargo ramp after the bay repressurized.

  "No questions, "Crowbar answered for Coeur. "It's classified. " Whatever, "Goodwrench said, turning to the two subordinates beside him. "All right, I want that drop box installed and loaded inside 20. The woman's got places to go, so let's do it!"

  True to his word, Goodwrench and his grease monkeys had the pod and its 15 capsules loaded within the day—assisted by a gang of Crowbars students, surprised to find that their classroom and teacher would soon be making for interstellar space.

  "At least it's a learning experience, "Coeur said.

  "Yeah, "Crowbar replied. "I just hope their next instructor gives them some sort of extra credit for it."

  ***

  In bygone days, 70 years before the Hiver Technical Academy School of Engineering dragged her out of a junkyard and restored her to life. Hornet had been a free-lance merchantman. Consequently, she was designed to run efficiently, surviving hard wear with a minimal crew: a pilot, a navigator, a medic/steward and an engineer. And 70years later, the only required addition was a pair of gunners: Gyro and Snapshot.

  Tipped off by Drop Kick, the two young women were the first to return to Hornet. Gyro, a blue-eyed, blond Aubani as stable as her call-sign, and Snapshot, an opinionated Oriflammen redhead with intense brown eyes, they had become good friends during the journey to Sauler. Only 21, both had bodies ideal for spacers, with low centers of gravity and heights under 165 cm.

  "Good God, "Snapshot said, marveling at the huge vehicle they met at the top of Hornet's cargo ramp. "That's an intrepid!"

  "An intrepid 125-1, "Gyro observed, noting the huge tank's 125 Mj fusion gun. "It would pretty much blow Hornet away at short range. ”

  "Welcome back, girls, "Coeur said, meeting them and shaking their hands. "I feel safer already, just having you aboard."

  "Well, I don't know if I do, "Snapshot said, "with that planet smasher in the cargo hold. Are you sure the firing mechanism's locked down?"

  "Yes, Snapshot, the ammunition's stored separately. ”

  "Captain, "Gyro said, "we noticed the small arms installed in the bow and port forward. Are those functional?"

  "Oh, yes. The fire control's in Snapper's turret, with a backup in your turret."

  "Drop Kick didn't say where we were going, "Snapshot said. "I suppose it must be some sort of raid."

  "Afraid I can't say until we launch, "Coeur said. "Carry on."

  But after Coeur left them, the young Arses continued admiring the tank for a long moment. Eight meters long, her bow was stretched into a streamlined wedge, helping give her a top speed over 700 kph in a dense atmosphere despite the weight of bonded super-dense armor five centimeters thick overall, and twice that thick on her bow and turret front.

  Aficionados of all things destructive, the gunners were well-aware of such general information about the tank, but by far the most compelling part of the vehicle was its gun. A staggering weapon half the length of the vehicle. It had none of the range of a space combat laser, but would easily drive a 12 cm fusion bolt through one-fourth of a meter of super-dense armor at six kilometers—just a little more than 30 times the thickness of armor Hornet wore for protection against micrometeorites.

  "Wow, ” Snapshot said finally. "That's quite a gun, all right."

  "I wonder, "Gyro said, with a deadpan expression. "Do you suppose Drop Kick got her to compensate for his lack of virility?"

  "Hey!"

  Gyro chuckled. "Just kidding, Snapper. I'm sure he's just fine."

  ***

  Early the next day, after the drop capsule pod was installed and fueling was underway, most of the rest of Hornet's original complement came up from Aubaine. While Drop Kick remained below, interviewing his final choices for drop troops, his cavalry mates from the 1st Marine Brigade, Mercy, Bonzo and Whiz Bang, came up to Big Top aboard a shuttle with the doctor and the navigator. Physic and Deep Six.

  Like Gyro and Snapshot, the cavalry soldiers paused to admire the intrepid before they settled into their quarters—and argue the merits of her crew selection. Unlike the more primitive four-person support sled they'd taken to Sauler, the tank had room for only two crewmen. Accordingly, Drop Kick notified his team that he and Mercy would man the tank, while Bonzo and Whiz Bang would man the infinitely less impressive G-carrier.

  "I still don't get it, "the squat and muscular Whiz Bang said, running a hand over his sandy crew cut"The tank's built around its gun, and I'm the most qualified gunner among us."

  Mercy, the dark and slim AFV driver, directed a glance at Whiz Bang, with brooding brown eyes so dark they were nearly black,

  "Perhaps, "she said, "the sergeant is more interested in reaching the target safely than in blowing up everything on the way there."

  "She may have a point, "Bonzo said. "You do have a little tendency to get carried away in a firefight."

  In answer, Whiz Bang made a mock-threatening fist at Bonzo, but the thin man was as nimble as he was light and dodged out of punching range with a smirk on his face.

  Farther forward in the bay, Coeur was greeting Physic and Deep Six. Not normally a physically expressive person, Coeur nevertheless gave Physic a spontaneous hug when she saw her. Shorter even than Gyro and Snapshot, Physic was an attractive woman, only a year younger than Coeur at 31, with a handsome face that struck the Terran Coeur as a blend of Aslan and Semitic features. Unfortunately, the down side of being hologenic was having that face featured prominently in articles about her estranged husband, the industrialist August Delpero—presently on trial for interstellar piracy and conspiracy to commit treason.

  "So, how are you doing. Physic?"

  "I do okay, "the doctor said, "as long as I stay in the medlab."

  "Reporters still after you? ” Coeur asked, breaking the embrace.

  "It's the trial. As long as it's on, they'll be after me."

  "That seems unreasonable, "Deep Six opined, from his roller-chair. "Physic was instrumental in the neutralization of the Hiver plague, yet that fact is conspicuously absent from coverage in the press."

  Physic shrugged.

  Though his Schalli race understood and felt emotion, Deep Six was still mystified by the self-destructive impulse in humankind. A deep-water Schalli, distinguished from the coastal subspecies by the darker, dapple-gray mottling of his streamlined body, he felt no cultural or racial alienation from any of his ancient and thoughtful race. That humans, who had been blessed by nature with far greater gifts of mobility and access to natural resources, were so prone to mutual distrust and occasional episodes of cultural suicide was a profound mystery to all the Schalli.

  "Anyway, "Coeur said, "It is good to have you aboard—both of you."

  "It will be good to return to the bridge, "Deep Six said. "The intellectual stimulation of drawing star charts for the astrography branch is not as compelling as calculating your jump plots."

  "I heard you two were slated to join Belladonna's precommissioning crew. This won't be as glamorous a posting as that"

  "It does have one advantage. "Physic said. "Belladonna won't be completed until next year."

  "You're that glad to get off the planet? "Coeur asked.

  "Yes, I'm that glad."

  ***

  Though RCES was a young service, just over a year old nine months into 1201, the toast was already a venerable custom. At least once a day, the Arses of a ship or unit would gather and raise their glasses in memory of the numerous dead they had lost— predominantly very young people who had paid the ultimate price for their faith in the future.

 

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