Chapter 29

* * *

The circular square, like a carpet, was covered with a dense mishmash of colorful dots. The buildings surrounding the square were of old Tallan style and formed an enormous bowl. The multicolored masses came up to their massive broad bases of dark grey granite, which turned into concave inwardly shining walls of reddish glass, rising somewhere under the clouds, gradually straightening, only emphasizing their resemblance to a gigantic flowerbed.

Or a huge salad bowl. Taer decided, watching the square intently through the window of a café on the first floor of one of the buildings. Luckily the salad came out fruity...

The automatics reacted to her strained squint, and a silent shadow descended over the world, a grainy veil of visage. The bright spot that caught her eye, enlarged and encompassed by whitish lines of markers, was a young red-haired girl with regular features and surprisingly fair skin, contrasting with her red curls and the bright red T-shirt with unreadable writing in large black letters. She must have held her gaze too long; a scarlet halo of sight flashed around her face, and Taer shook her head grudgingly as she forced her visor back up.

They'd been on Tallana for two days, gutting the safe houses and rebel bases Countess Durlurl's men had pointed out and pumping all those captured with Lim's serum. They'd been counting on it, or it was a coincidence, but the last patrol was surrounded by an incredible mob of seven thousand at least, some armed with light blasters.

And I almost burned them all. Taer was mentally horrified. Just because it was 'acceptable'. She thought she even felt a faint trace of someone else's, not her own, thoughts. A surprise when she interrupted the guidance, for the choice should have been obvious: 3.4 seconds to burn, two minutes and forty-two seconds to paralyze. And a slight regret of 'non-optimality'.

The motley mass covered the square thinned down closer to the cafe and a hundred paces away, disappearing altogether, exposing sandy-yellow plates and forming a small clean patch on which three heavy aerocars were parked. The dark metallic gray of the streamlined sides of the cars, set in a semicircle, merged into a makeshift wall in the rare gaps which loomed bright red figures of security guards.

When the fuss of the hasty departure subsided and they entered hyperspace, they found that all the heavy assault suits they had been given were of the "ceremonial" type - black with ornate red enamel painting and glowing scarlet griffins on their shoulder pads. The only paint they could find on the ship was also bright red.

However, they are even less conspicuous this way - from afar, they look like lifeguards or firemen.

The firemen really wouldn't have caused much surprise. At the far end of the square, a heavy construction robot stood like a huge metal octopus, several powerful arms topped with grippers, breakers, and cutters staring upwards as if trying to grab the sky, the circular disk-shaped body was split open, and streams of thick black smoke and flashes of orange flame erupted from the cut, which nobody was in any hurry to put out. The rebels were very clever in their use of heavy construction equipment against the police aerocars, but...:

But I have more firepower than the police. Taer grinned grimly.

As she waited to meet the Countess of Durlurl, the events of the past few days kept replaying in her mind, trying to understand why things had happened this way and what to tell her. And as she thought about it, she saw with absurd clarity in each other that they had simply always lacked firepower. If they could destroy the aerocar at once, Dudo would not be wounded, and the Lord's guard would not be reduced by half. If she had killed the shape-shifter, she would not have been unconscious, and she would have been able to protect the Lord. So going to Tallana, she made sure that such mistakes would not happen again. She had twenty-four men in heavy assault suits with her, and another eight men from the reserves stayed on the yachts. And what it had taken her six hours to buy three Aegis and rip the identification units out of them...

A loud clang of broken glass nearby snapped her out of her brooding reverie:

"Damn it!" The glass she was holding burst, and green streams ran down her arm, leaving behind pieces of fruit on her glove. Distracted, Taer simply crushed it. In anything not related to combat, the guider was occasionally off, and she became clumsy in her use of the assault suits.

"Never mind, Sword. Would you like to make another one?" It came from behind her.

"Yes, I suppose so." Taer nodded, crinkling unhappily as the glass crunched beneath her feet and turned to the bar.

The unknown designer was true to the classic Tallana style - the bar was a massive square slab of dark grey with red flecks of granite, slightly glistening from the thin layer of icy water flowing down it.

Behind the bar, a massive figure in a bright red suit, accompanied by three reconnaissance bots, similar to small black balls, studded with twinkling round sensors. Raised visor opened the face of the "bartender"-wide, with a little "square" chin and snub nose, it just radiated mischievous charm. His light blond, short-cropped hair and sly, slightly squinting green eyes spoke volumes about his noble origins, and his slightly sloping nose reflected his love of ungenerous pastime. "Twice Lieutenant" Grii Dirav was one of the men handed over by Countess Durlurl. And he was one of the most expensive as he was an 'Iper'. That is to say, simply put, his head was stuffed with metal and bio-clusters enough to hold eight scout bots at once.

"Shall I repeat it to you?" Grii asked, and seeing that he had captured the attention of his "superiors", he demonstrated the ultimate chic by tossing up and catching the cocktail glass again, which looked more like a transparent tube of the finest glass. "Or would you like to try Nun's Kiss?"

"Repeat," Taer grumbled grudgingly. She was a bit jealous of Grii's manipulation of the glass. She certainly couldn't do it herself.

Stepping carefully so as not to crush or knock anything over on the way, Taer approached the bar.

The cozy little café where they were seated was decorated in a deliberately Tallana style, which must have been aimed at tourists. Near the massive rounded columns, decorated with small shiny mosaic tiles, were low oval tables made of dark wood. The tables were flanked by Tallana "tapu" of the same dark wood, either long narrow chairs without backs or small benches. On each tapu lay hanging down on either side were large, gold-embroidered cushions of darkly red velvet, their long tassels of twisted fringe almost touching the dark gray slabs of the floor.

The cafe remained miraculously unlooted by the rebels, and while the spears gutted the secure communication lines of a nearby bank. Taer allowed the team to take their first break in three days and eat a decent meal. There was no point in rushing now. They found traces of the Lord and the others who had been kidnapped at the last point they had seized, bits of skin, hair, and even a few drops of blood, as well as many dead PVD's who had been dead for at least a couple of days. Someone had beaten them to it by two days and taken the lord.

Taer was almost certain that Lord Cassard was still alive, they had not found a body, and the amount of tissue they had found did not indicate that he was at least wounded. But now he was definitely not with the rebels, she had to think about what to do next - and the peaceful surroundings were just right for that. The only thing she could think of so far was to tap into the Rebels' lines of communication - perhaps they knew who had attacked them and kidnapped the Lord again. To do that, they knocked out a nearby bank of PVDs. They were using the bank's network as secure lines of communication between their headquarters.

Taer walked over to the bar and ran her hand over the water-covered slab to wash the remains of the cocktail off her glove:

That's probably why they invented watering it, thought the "specialist" lazily as she watched Grii make a cocktail for her. So you can wash your hands without leaving the table.

The massive figure of the 'Iper' moved surprisingly naturally, as if he wore no suit at all. He deftly chopped the fruit with his knife without chopping up the cutting board and simultaneously commanded three scouts bots, two of which brought him ingredients, while the third was frying thin flatbread for sandwiches.

"Your cocktail, Sword," Grii smiled, handing her a glass decorated with a small slice of green melon carved in the shape of a flaming heart.

Taer sent him a sour smile in return and taking her glass, turned her back and leaned against the bar, the water gurgling softly down her suit:

After the operation, I will fire him to all shadows, back to the guard, she thought with a heavy sigh and picked up a heart in her teeth and chewed it.

The holographic screen on the side wall shows some kind of rally of the rebels. Near the screen stood three soldiers in scarlet suits with raised visors, staring blankly at the screen, eating sandwiches. As it was found out practically, the tapu could not bear the weight of a heavy assault suit, and it is necessary to be able to sit on them, fixing the knee joint. Three more slept - standing up, right in the armor.

With a low whirring sound a black scout ball came out from somewhere over his shoulder. In its short clutches was clutched a tray on which lay a healthy sandwich, exuding the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread and roast meat. Taer, who had previously thought she wasn't hungry, involuntarily swallowed her saliva.

"A sandwich Dirawski," Grii commented from behind her. Seeing the predicament of Taer, whose left arm was still not moving, suggested. "Would you like me to hold the sandwich? Because you, Sword, would be uncomfortable with one hand..."

Is he trying to feed me by hand? She almost hissed in anger and turned to the Ieper with a single glance to silence him.

Putting the glass back on the counter, she raked a sandwich off the tray:

Or better yet, not fired, but demoted to cook, she decided after taking her first bite - the sandwich was overwhelmingly good.

Despite all her indignation and angry looks intended for Grii, eating with one hand on the weight was indeed uncomfortable:

"Hold still," she ordered the little scout with the tray and, clutching the sandwich in her teeth, reached for the glass to put it close. At that moment, her gaze slid to the huge screen on the side where the rebel rally was still going on. The cameraman, tired of filming close-ups of the frenzied crowd, moved the camera closer to the speaker. He wore a brown Tallana student union jacket, as did most of the PVD members, and climbing onto an overturned forklift he called out, with glowing eyes, "To defend the young revolution from the imperial hirelings." The speaker was a perfect "charismatic rebel" You could put it on a poster right now: a lofty expression on his face covered with days-old stubble, a slight burn on his left cheek, probably from a close hit, ruffled hair was the typical dark color of Thallans.

Except for the eye shape, it's not Tallana's at all. Taer thought and was about to turn away when she realized who she was looking at:

It just can't be... She blinked involuntarily to ward off the obsession, but Lord Cassard was still on the screen. With slightly sunken cheeks, covered in days-old stubble, disheveled, with a burn on his cheek, dressed like a PVD man, and calling out to a raging crowd of clearly not sober students: "sweep the traitors away with a wave of righteous anger". This was Lord Cassard, he and no one else.

A sandwich fell out of the "specialist's" involuntarily open mouth and slammed to the floor:

"Where are they filming this?" she asked, muffled, still seemingly in a state of prostration but coming to her senses.

"I'm sorry, Sword. I don't understand you. What is "this"?" Grii interrogated from behind me.

"THIS!!!" she yelled, pointing her finger at the screen. "Where is that picture coming from?!"

The soldiers, munching their sandwiches by the screen, turned at once to hear her shout:

"I think it's at Transit Station Six," one of them reported and, after a second's hesitation, added. "Where it's broadcasting from, I don't know."

"Commanders of the eights, assemble the men. Leave immediately," Taer commanded, turning on the communicator and switching to the external communication channel added. "I want to see all three Aegis over the square and ready to receive aerocars in three minutes. We're on our way." Taer took a handful of credits from a small chest container and poured them onto the counter:

And for the food and for the damage, she thought as she slammed the discharge from her heavy blaster into the shop window.

The glass shattered, showering the café with a stream of tiny shards, and a few seconds later, the steel-grey sloping back of the aerocar rose from below. The car hovered in front of the shattered window, and the side door swung open to the side, inviting me inside.

The whole departure took even less than three minutes; we got there in two and a half. It could have been quicker - but the "lances " were in the back of the building, so it was a bit of a mess.

The aerocars caught up with the yachts, which had already begun to gain altitude to save time, and with their speeds leveled, they began to cling to the onboard clamps.

"Set a course for the Sixth Transit Station," Taer commanded as she flew into the Aegis's deckhouse, then connected to the ship's intercom and continued. "We have some indirect evidence to suggest that Lord Cassard is on Transit Six, along with a large number of rebels. They may have captured him, but it is also possible that they are simply unaware of his true identity. Our task is to retrieve him from there unharmed and, if possible, find and also evacuate Lord Lister."

There was a low hiss from behind - the door slid aside, and Dudo stepped into the cockpit. Though he had recovered, Taer didn't want to take any chances in such circumstances and left Dudo in charge. He was in charge of all communications and coordinated all the 'lances' without leaving the ship. So he was without armor, just wearing a white tunic with scarlet stitching.

"Did you get anything worthwhile out of the last break-in?" Taer asked him, lifting her visor.

"They only had time to crack the protocols and connect before your order came up"

"Damn, I was counting on some information about what was even happening on this 'transit sixth'."

"I ordered the equipment and the optical transmitter to be left on the roof so we can reconnect as soon as we stop actively maneuvering."

"Isn't that risky?" Taer frowned.

Dudo shrugged: "If anything, the equipment just self-destructs. The guys left a couple of surprises in there."

"OK then, as soon as you get a chance, connect to their networks, and what's more, have the telecom guys intercept anything coming from that station, see if there's anything other than propaganda broadcasts."

"We will," Dudo nodded and headed for the exit, muttering something into his communicator as he went.

"And I need as detailed a plan of this station as possible." Taer managed to shout before the door closed.

"Sword..." the senior navigator's cautious voice echoed on the common channel, though he was sitting a few meters away from her. "We have finished calculating the elevation. It will take about two and a half hours to pass the Flow, maybe more. We're based on the current configuration, and the flow pattern may change in that time."

"That's unacceptable," Taer said. "Anything can happen at the station at that time. After all, the lord could be moved elsewhere in that time. Do you have any other ideas?"

No one seemed to have any ideas. Finally, the silence that filled the command channel was broken by the ringing voice of the pilot of the third Aegis:

"If we drop the aerocars we can optimize the shields, in shape and energy. If we put everything on the front hemisphere, the Aegis could well survive an aggressive lift." The pilot's voice faintly trembled with impatience and a desire to tell his plan sooner rather than later. Ogerd being the youngest of the hired pilots, and perhaps the most talented, was in that dangerous period when the sense of impunity induced by simulations had not yet had time to atrophy under the influence of reality. And the idea of "ramming" through the Flow seemed to him just chic:

"Most of the ships in the stream are small, and their kinetics are low. If you build the yachts in columns or triangles, we can change the lead vehicle after impact, giving it time to inflate the shield structure. In this mode, we'll be at the station in fifteen, twenty minutes, tops."

After this sentence, there was silence once more. The chances of one of the yachts being smashed to bits by the kinetic impact were fifty to fifty. At least we won't even have time to feel anything.

"Quite realistic," confirmed the pilot of the first Aegis, Rokot, who must be defending his comrade's idea. "If there are no more than two or three strikes per yacht, and we don't get hit head-on by an ore carrier or a long-haul truck with a hundred thousand containers."

The latter could have been dispensed with, Taer thought grudgingly. There were plenty of freighters in Tallana's orbit:

"I ask the leaders of the eights, and the crews of the yachts, to comment on this proposal." She said aloud. She had nothing to lose, but she wasn't going to make the others heroes by force.

"We will obey Her Ladyship's orders at any cost." Carpathian number two responded almost instantly, without a second thought.

"A warrior's honor demands that you do whatever it takes to obey an order, no matter what it takes," Codm, the elder of the Carpathians allocated by Baroness Ryonale, agreed. "Her Ladyship has ordered us to obey any order you give us. We will follow your word, and any danger shared by the swami will be an honor."

It was the turn of the first and second eights, staffed by scouts, but so far there was silence. With the men of Baroness Rionale's hand, all was clear. The Carpathians, those strange pale fellows, would rather die than allow themselves to show indecision or fear.

And the scouts haven't even had time to take the oath of allegiance to the Cassard family, this is one of many operations for them yet, and to take that risk... Taer thought, watching the lights on the communication panel opposite the scouts' tactical names flicker on and off. They were clearly now discussing the 'idea' over the intra-group communication. One could, of course, connect and listen to what they were talking about... But Taer decided that would be rude and dishonest.

After a few minutes, the flickering of the intercom finally ceased, and Taer heard the voice of 'double lieutenant' Dirav followed by a quiet click, connecting to the general channel:

"It's as dangerous as kissing a nun with oil on it," Grii said, but the mirth in his voice was somehow unnatural. "But both eights are willing to risk it."

Taer took a breath, her main fighting force was still intact, and all others were no longer so crucial. Unless a couple of lances and medics are needed, even that could be dispensed with.

"What do the 'lances' think?" she asked aloud.

"Four are agreed, and two are against," Dudo replied. "I am agreed."

"Medics?"

"Ahem... Opinions are divided," came the uncertain voice of the senior medic. Taer didn't even know his name. It was just too much to ask in the turmoil. "Half agreed, half against, six of us in all, so three..."

"Navigators and engineers?"

"Four in favor and two against." The senior navigator, despite sitting beside her, used the common link as usual. "I am personally against it, and I must say. in my opinion, the idea is reckless and endangers not only our lives but also Lord Cassard's life, for if we die, who will save him? Two, maybe four hours is not such a..."

"Thank you, I see your point." Taer interrupted him. "I take it the pilots are for it?"

"Yes, that's right, Sword!" Ogerd answered cheerfully for everyone.

"I'm against..." came from behind the pilot's seat. Out loud, not over the general comms. Pakrat turned off the microphone and twisted in his chair, turning to Taer.

"Against?" the specialist was genuinely surprised. Pakrat Mithout, like the rest of the pilots, was of the 'first set' and had managed to swear an oath to the Lord and Clan, if only verbally. But he swore an oath, swearing to defend at all costs even with his life...

"Against," he nodded. "The idea is absolutely insane. At this rate of lift and with the local density of ships, the strikes could be much less than a second apart. The yachts simply wouldn't have time to swap, let alone that there might not be two or three strikes but four or six in a row. A streak of bad luck, and that's it. I agree with the navigator that there's no point in being in such a hurry. After all, what can happen in, well, four hours that can't happen in fifteen minutes?"

"So you're against..." Taer concluded, quietly starting to turn on herself. "Well..."

"But!" continued Pakrat. "Since you need three yachts for the plan and you don't have another pilot... then I agree."

"Don't bother," Taer cut him off. "I'm driving this yacht."

"Pilots and navigators, prepare for docking." She commanded on the common channel. "All aerocars but one will be jettisoned to free the nodes. Those who don't want to take the risk will take the remaining one."

"Sword, with all due respect..." began the senior operator. "But an aerocar is not a yacht. Its sensor and navigation systems are remarkably primitive. It will take a lot longer to lift through the 'Flow' in an aerocar."

"What's your hurry?" The "specialist" raised an eyebrow. "When this is over, one of the yachts will pick you up."

"What if all the yachts die during the lift?" The navigator would not let up.

"Then you will fly to the fortress of Forizet and ask for asylum. That it. Go and gather any personal belongings you may need. Dismissed."

After a few minutes of the carefully orchestrated confusion it took to re-equip the yachts, the onboard units began to open one by one, and the aerocars flew down like huge bombs, swaying slightly in the incoming currents. The last of the jettisoned vehicles unhooked from the Aegis and lowered a little but soon joined the yachts at the tail end. There were those who did not wish to take the risk, and they had a long lift through the "Flow".

"Lucky for someone..." commented the engineer sitting next to him looking at the falling aerocars with mild envy.

Each of the jettisoned aerocars was worth sixty-five thousand danarii. All the systems on them were switched on, the keys were left on the panels and the autopilots were set to hover near the surface. More than enough to get inside.

"Only if they can sell it," Taer snickered, squinting her eyes at the viewscreen where the aircars had all but disappeared into tiny grey dots.

She sat in the pilot's seat of the Aegis and regarded the dashboard with slight nervousness. The fact was that she herself had never flown a yacht like this before, and all she knew was how to disable the emergency automatics and parallel control of the autopilot. Therefore, all her hope was in the "guider", as she was supposed to be able to control anything that flew.

"Is everyone ready?" she inquired, a shudder in her voice, and when she heard a resounding "Ready." She commanded:

"Here we go!"

The Aegis turned its nose up into the sky and sped upwards, picking up speed. The "flight corridor" frames drawn by the navigation system looked more like a perfectly straight red column. They were to fly directly below the sixth transit station to minimize their time in the Flow and to reduce the chance of possible interception by the station's Force-grabbers.

The stabilization automatics beeped, and a huge white disc burst with a deafening crackle in front of the sharp bow of the yacht, leaving behind faintly visible streaks of compaction surges. The Aegis went into supersonic. The horizon began to round, and the pearly light of the "Transit Flow" began to show through the azure of Tallana's daytime sky.

The silence of the common channel was broken by the strained voice of the navigator:

"Fifteen seconds to go into the Flow."

"Start the convergence," Taer commanded.

On the right and left the grey noses of Ogerd and Rokot's Aegis loomed up. The yachts pressed against each other, keeping a few meters away from each other, with Taer in the center of the formation, which had been pushed forward like a spearhead.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The shields surrounding the Aegis rippled a little and became visible - forced pumping had begun. Somewhere behind Taer, the gravity drive accumulators were howling for maximum power to keep the boat on course, despite all the shocks.

"Four seconds..."

The cockpit windscreen began to swiftly fill with ship markers. Little whitish triangles were appearing one by one at an incredible rate, merging into a solid blur. So many that Taer had to turn them off because the white blur obscured her view.

"Enter!"

Pearl stars burst into view, instantly transforming into ships whizzing past. The white, flickering silhouettes of various designs merged into a solid corridor as the three Aegis raced through.

The first impact was so sudden that Taer, even though the accelerator was on, didn't realize what had hit them. Suddenly the collision warning system started screaming, and the front hemisphere of the shield was flooded with a mirror-like haze. The second impact, despite the stabilizers, jolted the yacht a little, and blue blobs of ionic breakdowns, like spiders made of twisting lightning, flashed under the mirror-like ripples of the shield:

"Overloading of the forward hemisphere! Multiple ion breakdown! Leaking nose shield structure!" The automatics and the engineer shouted simultaneously, the cold steel voice of the machine merging with the nervous cries of the human into one anxious hum.

Taer reset the mode switch to its lowest setting and pulled the thrust lever slightly toward her. On the navigation screen, a translucent yellow silhouette of the yacht crawled down, indicating her future position. She had to back up literally half a length, which, given their speed, was not an easy thing to do. With the silhouette in the correct position, she squeezed the confirmation key. The audible tone of the forward thrust generators faintly changed, and the piloting formation began to correct, but too slowly. The yacht was too inert to execute such a subtle change quickly.

There's going to be a third blow, and we won't survive it, Taer thought with a detached calm. She knew in advance when it was going to hit, to the tiniest moment, as if she had already flown through the Flow a thousand times over and over again. This strange sense of predetermination was familiar to the girl and was clearly caused by the "guider" that had been activated.

Fortunately, there was no third blow. On the right, Ogerd's yacht came out in a blurry gray silhouette and took the hit. A small merchant ship, the kind that flies around the galaxy, came out of nowhere and crashed into the Aegis. Shields erupted, and the merchant ricocheted off to the side, spinning wildly.

I hope that poor bastard doesn't crash into anyone else or that his fields will hold, Taer thought to herself as she looked at the ricocheted merchant. Despite the activated perception accelerator, it was almost instantaneous. She realized, somewhat belatedly, that such a rise was a threat not only to them but also to those who came their way.

Ogerd's yacht, which had taken the hit, was moving fast; the pilot must not have quite got the hang of the piloting, and the acceleration was too great. The formation was broken, and the lead yacht would not last long on her own.

"Sword, we need at least ten seconds to pump up the shield...!" shouted the engineer, seeing as Taer gave the hilt away from herself, building up the thrust.

The two stragglers surged forward to catch up with the Ogerd. Before he was replaced by the second yacht, the leader's shields flashed three times. As the formation was reestablished, Taer, out of the corner of her eye, caught sight of the blue lightning bolts crawling across the hull of the third Aegis. The generators held the shields literally at the last drops of structure.

"Hold the line! As tightly as possible!" She shouted into the microphone, her eyes following the yellow bar of the shield inflation indicator, in two seconds, her yacht would replace Rockot as a leader.

The three Aegis was shadowing grayly through the Flow, constantly shifting. The fast-moving ships were merging into a slowly rotating white tunnel of red course lines. The field around the lead boat kept flaring, and the unlucky ships flew off to the sides spinning haphazardly. After a few minutes, it was all over. The Aegis pulled out into a relatively clear area below the belly of the Sixth Transit Station.

Taer took her hands off the controls and laughed nervously:

It was a little easier than I expected, she thought, wiping her wet palms on the velvet upholstery of the armrests. The "guidance" left her to her own devices, which made her heart thump in her chest and her palms instantly sweat. She reached out a slightly trembling hand and displayed a diagnostic. Apparently, there was nothing wrong with her yacht.

"Report damage and casualties," Taer commanded on the general channel as she leaned back in her chair.

"All systems normal, one faint." There was a purring tone in the voice of the first man to answer, and the usual phlegmatic attitude had disappeared.

"The forward generator resource appears to have been exhausted..." Ogerd's voice was cheerful and energetic as usual, even more cheerful and energetic than usual. "A light haze, the induced ion bursts have burned out some subsystem, we're trying to figure out which one. But if we're still alive, it was some unnecessary subsystem. And it was just amazing!" He exclaimed happily at the end.

They're damned lunatics, after all, Taer decided to herself as she switched to a direct link with Dudo:

"Did the connection to the ground station show up?" She asked when a green response light flashed across the lance's name.

"Not yet. Apparently, the 'Flow' is interfering. There are a lot of ships that can block the beamline. Maybe if you circle a bit, you can catch the signal. And we're intercepting some kind of transmission down from the station itself. The protocol is simple enough. I think the guys will crack it in the next few minutes."

The yachts lined up silently as they glided through the pearly void of near space, the bulk of the transit station looming directly overhead, lined with impenetrable shadows from space. In the distance was the jagged silhouette of Transit Two, its long, elongated center section, lined with numerous terminal spurs and docking stations. And to the right floated in a pearly glow one of Talalan's many shipyards. From a distance, it resembled a small white crab, with many claws that held in its wake the cocoons of future ships. The crab's back was full of huge red "A2-R" symbols.

"And this is the Ariam Two-Rogen Shipyard," Grii's voice came over the general channel. "They're fulfilling House Kilreat's order for Assault Frigates. I'd wager there's no one there now. Pity we're not on a cruiser."

House Kilret was one of the most obvious opponents of their house, House Fyron. And their feverish fleet buildup had a very definite purpose.

But there's nothing that can be done about it, Taer sighed philosophically. The buildup of the fleet was perfectly legal, and their ship quotas had been increased personally by the Emperor. To fight the 'pirates' of course.

"If we stay here for a couple of weeks, the Aegis will do its job too." Someone chuckled.

"Sword, we have completed the analysis of the station shields." The engineer next to her turned to Taer and moved the hovering holo-screen of the station layout closer to her with a wave of his hand. "The fields are impermeable only in the area around the flight and lift field and the hybrid docking facility. The rest of the biosecurity fields are in normal mode, the shields in the rest of the area are functioning as "elastic," and the activation rhythm is flickering. Our power is enough to push through the shields and land on the cladding."

Thaer nodded graciously to the engineer and twisted in her chair to summon Grшш and Kodm:

"I need a tactical plan to infiltrate the station and find Lord Cassard. The sooner the better. The available forces are twenty-eight stormtroopers, two lances, and three field medics. The rest are in reserve. We've only got a few minutes, so I don't expect too much detail. All available information on the station will be sent to you by the lances."

"Roger, Sword," the scout and the Carpathian replied in sync and switched off.

After giving her orders, Taer yanked her communicator out of its connector and jumped out of her chair, rushing to the "dining room" where they had set up the armory. She had to put her armor back on.

The two Carpathians and the technicians helping her put on the armor had already begun to attach the outer armor plates when a call came in on her communicator from Dudo:

"We've cracked open transmission from the station. They are requesting help from the ground. They're having some kind of shooting disturbance, and the PVDs can't deal with them."

Taer even squeezed her eyes shut when she heard this. It was just a gift from fate:

But would it be acceptable to do so, it would be a deception unworthy of an officer. The mental prick of conscience was uncalled for. What demons? We're not at war, these are bandits in general, how can you... she thought grudgingly, and said aloud:

"Tell them through their channels that we are ready to help stop the unrest."

Oh yes, I give my word the unrest there will stop, on both sides, Taer thought contentedly. And if possible, make them believe...

"Will do, Chief," Dudo hummed and passed out.

The three dark gray silhouettes of the Aegis flew under the station shields and froze over the white field of the flight zone. On the dark sides of the yachts, white patches of frost were rapidly forming, and steam was faintly visible. As the yachts came to a halt, the lower cargo hatches opened, and three cargo platforms began their descent simultaneously. On each of them were no less than a dozen massive figures in bright red assault armor. The platforms touched the surface with a thud, and the stormtroopers began to fly off one by one with a booming whirr.

Having disembarked the landing party, the 'yacht' with the remaining reserve on board filed backward, flying out of the station shield.

"Erm... You're the help, aren't you?" The greeter in the brown student union jacket ran his eyes confusedly over the passing silhouettes in red armor. He did not even try to touch the long-barreled rifle hanging from his chest.

"Yes, help," rumbled a loudspeaker-amplified voice, one of the fighters remaining to cover the 'yachts'. A heavy paralyzer shrieked, and a thin blue beam struck the welcome party.

The rest of the Stormtroopers, forming a small column in two rows, moved deep into the station.

Taer flew at the head of the column, just behind the forward pair. A little behind her, in the gap that had formed, was their Tallana trophy. A small, bright yellow glider - more like a bench with a steering wheel to which two large plastic cases were strapped. Sitting on top of the glide were two figures in light gray armor that looked more like tight overalls. 'Lances', whose light armor did not have built-in thrust generators, were using the glide to avoid slowing down the main group. The combat interface system, now operational, painted the world with bright patches of tactical markings: symbols of tactical names, orange epaulets hung over the fighters' shoulders, blue cones of "attention zones" and green beams of sight lines slid across the walls. She squinted her eyes at the 'double lieutenant' flying on her left hand, the automation tracking the movement of her pupils, and a red dot of 'focus of attention' jumped on the massive figure of the Iper.

"Two bots to reconnoiter the route," Taer commanded, activating the direct link to Grii.

"Acknowledge," he responded. Two small black orbs, gleaming with sensors, popped out of their sockets on the backpack and darted forward like huge flies.

The squad flew through the flight deck and into the interior of the building. At the first switchboard, the glider stopped, and the lances quickly jumped off and began to open the outer lid without wasting time. A pair of stormtroopers remained near the switchboard, next to the gray figures of the operators to cover them. They also needed the data from the station's visual observation systems to evacuate Lord Cassard, and control of the airlocks and doors would be of great use.

Leaving the 'lancers' and their guards behind, the convoy divided into five groups. Two groups, mostly consisting of Carpathians, were to take the shortest possible route into the chamber where they assumed Lord Cassard was. Two more groups, led by Taer, were to neutralize the PVD fighters, and the last group was to take control of the station's command gallery.

Taer and her squad sank to the ringing slabs of the floor near the open shaft for the loading platforms. Above, illuminated by yellow outlines, the edges of other floors gaped:

"One scout bot up," she commanded. "As discreetly as possible."

Obeying her words, another black orb detached itself from Grii's back and flew into the shaft, gradually becoming translucent from the holographic cloak that had been activated. After a dozen seconds, an incoming visual stream icon flickered on the right edge of Taer's visor. A red dot of 'focus' jumped over the icon, unfolding it into a small screen broadcasting the scout's 'vision'.

On level four, where they were headed. The PVD men had set up a veritable fortified area of containers, nets, and fiber-steel plates bolted from somewhere. Judging by the positioning of firing points and turrets, this "fortress" was supposed to defend the exit from the mine, but most of the personnel huddled in front of one of the side exits, leaving the mine itself virtually unattended.

"There's even a light vortex gun," Taer muttered, peering at the makeshift fortifications of the PVDs around the shaft's exit. "There were only two in full armor, and both were not behind turrets. And they were going to hold their own against the imperial landing force. What were they counting on...

"Taer." Dudo's voice echoed in her ears in surprise. "The guys have broken into the system. Control of airlocks and doors received. There is partial control of the biosecurity system. Data from the station's visual system is being relayed to our data feed. We're doing some initial filtering of the images we're getting."

"Great," she replied. "Circle the whole security system for them. I don't want anyone to know where we are."

"Already done," retorted the 'lance'.

"Then we wait for the Kodma group to get into position and begin. On my command, turn off all interior lights. I see a lot of people here don't have helmets or masks..."

She waved, and the fighters moved towards the shaft. Beams of sight lines, and blue vision cones, flickered along the floors, taking aim at possible threat directions.

"A reminder," Taer said as she switched on the general comms. "Until Lord Cassard is contained, use lethal weapons only as a last resort."

She opened the tactical map, watching the group of Carpathians advance. They were still quite far away. It took almost two minutes before Kodm appeared on the link:

"We're in position," he reported. "The airlock is blocked from the outside, so we've applied a paste blast. Ready to act on your orders."

"Here we go," she commanded, and as soon as the lights went out, she discharged the area paralyzer upwards.

A bright blue ball of lightning erupted with a screeching sound from the barrel and burst beneath the ceiling of the fourth level. At the same time, the advanced foursome of fighters boomed upwards. Above their heads, red crosses, drawn by the coupling system, pulsed, warning that they were about to cross her line of fire.

She lowered the barrel and jumped upward, the thrust generators kicking her up at the highest point of her trajectory, turning the jump into a flight. The pale colors of night mode suddenly glowed brightly as a blue jet of plasma flashed high overhead, illuminating everything with a pale light, dabbing at one of the Stormtroopers. The mirrored glare of the shield flashed, and the beam leaped off its target, striking the opposite edge of the lift shaft, leaving a glowing hot melted scar and a shower of sparks. Tiny droplets of molten metal rained down in a luminous rain toward the rising Taer.

Looks like one of the bandits not only avoided being paralyzed but also had time to react, she decided as she mechanically braced herself against the wall of the shaft to be at the very edge of the expected line of fire.

But the battle didn't happen. When Taer rose, the stormtroopers were just finishing dealing with the shooter. The partner of the plasma-hit stormtrooper flew swiftly forward, straight at the shooter, covering his comrade with a weakened shield. PVD fighter, in his light but totally covering body armor, took time to fire again, lighting up the hall with a whimsical burst of light reflected from the mirror-like ripples in his shield. But he was prevented from firing a third shot. The Ignitor in his hands squealed pitifully, crumpling beneath the stormtrooper's armor mangled, and the already useless weapon was ripped from his hands. A helmet was ripped from his head, followed by a brief flash of paralyzing discharge into his face.

She glanced around the battlefield, her squad's men on their feet, scattering quickly across the hall, taking control of their sectors. She glanced around, but there were only paralyzed bodies. There was no time to check if the Lord was among them. The main thing was to take control of the station quickly, and then the search could begin.

"Dudo, can you open this door?" Taer asked, looking at the massive sliding slab of fiber steel blocking their further progress.

"No, there's a manual lockdown and it looks like they're waiting for you there."

"Give me a picture," she said, gesturing to the stormtroopers to get to the door.

The visual stream from the sensors of the station's observation system, unfolding on her visor, did not inspire optimism. In the first place, the "pillboxes" of containers in this hall were assembled in such a way as to completely cover the shooters, including from above, and to paralyze them quickly would not be possible. And second, there were much more bandits there, and many of them wore blown dark-grey coveralls with high collars combined with soft helmets with visors. Fortunately transparent.

"I need a visual filtering of everyone in this room by Lord Cassard's mask." She ordered the 'lances'. "At least everyone who is definitely NOT Lord Cassard." She added, realizing that the quality of the filtering in such circumstances would leave much to be desired.

The figures of the PVDs waiting for them began to turn red as they filtered, the visual filtering clusters certain about a third of the targets that they were definitely not Lord Cassard. The rest were not so sure. Either the slice of their face in the sensor's field of view looked like a slice of Lord Cassard's, or their position did not allow for analysis.

"Grii, these are yours," Taer reported, highlighting the dense group of reds where most of them were men in armor.

While she studied the surroundings, the others wasted no time. A grey strip of explosive paste had already been applied to the door, forming the contours of the future opening. Released from the cylinders, it had already finished forming its structure and looked like a perfectly flat semi-circular strip of grey metal. On the right side of the future opening, an "assault chain" of seven stormtroopers had already lined up behind each other, with a single "opener" standing on the left. The rest had spread out across the hall in preparation to support with fire.

Taer walked up to the second in the "assault chain" and clapped him on the shoulder, telling him to make room.

"Is everyone ready?" she asked as she took her seat. When she answered affirmatively, she ordered: "Let's begin!"

With a loud clang, a blast of golden fire erupted, burning through the metal. "The opener," with a kick reinforced by the artificial muscles of the armor, knocked out the slashed area with a bell-like chime. Two sparkling lightning bolts flew into the opening and struck golden needles of power spikes set to minimum power, they had to disable the vortexguns in the embrasures of the "pillboxes".

The golden threads of arcane bolts faded into thin air as the attacking party charged into the opening, literally shoving one another and filling the air with streams of purple, howling nonlethal discharge. Just above their heads, a black wasp flew scout and bypassed the container, flew into the thick of the PVDs, followed by a whirlwind of pale purple flame, with a low dragging sound, sucked into its surroundings, leaving behind scorched bodies and a glowing stain on the metal floor.

A bright flash of discharge erupted from the embrasure of one of the pillboxes with a piercing howl, looking like an elongated, glowing blob under the perception accelerator, and the shield of the first in the assault chain erupted in an orange tearing ball, leaving a slant of black soot on the floor.

In a single movement of her right hand, Taer shoved the first one aside and, to the howl of the suit's thrust generators, rushed forward. In a few seconds, the world suddenly darkened, and in front of her burst, a ball of explosion obscured by a shield that had almost lost its transparency. The vortex accumulators pumped the focus crystal every second and a half - almost an eternity in the "accelerator's" stretched time - but she was flying as if bursting through a sticky gelly. A second such discharge, the shield of her armor would certainly not have withstood. The indicator on her visor was already pulsing alarmingly red, the chances of her armor holding out were slim, but she had to make it. Taer could already hear the piercing sound of hoarders about to discharge as she collapsed her entire mass onto the makeshift fortification, collapsing the structure and crushing the protruding vortex barrel with the palm of her hand.

The "assault chain," which had jumped through the kill zone, swung behind the barricade of containers and went into hand-to-hand combat, ripping the helmets off the survivors of the armored PVDs and paralyzing them. The sparse return fire shattered against the mirrored morass of shields. The support team flew in behind and spread out on top of the containers, taking control of the room.

Taer quickly scattered the containers of the "pillbox" she had collapsed and breathed a sigh of relief. The shooter was not Lord Cassard.

The little scoutbots whirred softly over her head and slipped into the adjacent corridors:

"Everyone is paralyzed. The main resistance node is suppressed. We've made contact with Kodma's groups," Grii reported after a few seconds. "They are on the other side of the corridor."

In confirmation of his words on the visual channel from the scout appeared a picture of a huge hall covered with a mishmash of paralyzed bodies, over which the stormtroopers in scarlet armor hovered. The bodies. There was a huge number, several thousand at least.

"All right. Wait for the capture of the command gallery and proceed to identify Lord Cassard and Lord Lister."

In a few minutes, the entire station was under their control. The main groups of people were paralyzed. The few that were in the back of the station were simply locked up, blocking the bulkheads so they wouldn't cause any trouble after making sure that the lords they were looking for weren't in their midst,

The long-awaited report of the lord's discovery had to wait a few more minutes. Lord Cassard was found among the pile of rebels in the great hall. Leaving the command of the two eights to Grii, Taer took one stormtrooper with her and flew to the yachts. Already on her way, she was caught by a report of the discovery of Lord Lister and a bomb of some sort.

"Grii, their lordship thinks there's a bomb somewhere near you," Taer reported, though Iper had likely heard the first report. "Get on with it, but be careful."

"We're already looking, Sword."

"Once found, destroy and prepare to evacuate. We're leaving as soon as the guys are done with the central cluster and get a jump vector from it. And place Lord Lister on the second Aegis, and if possible, put him to sleep." She added, thinking she and the Lord were clearly going to have a lot of confidential conversations, and Lord Lister would only get in the way. Besides, there was a subtle political point here: officially, neither Lord Cassard nor Lord Lister had gone anywhere. House Fyron had hushed up the story, of course, warning the ruling Lady of House Bentar, but no more than that. "Therefore, all conversations should be postponed until arrival on Copeira."

As the platform lifted her onto the yacht on which Lord Cassard had been placed, she was trembling with impatience. Taer couldn't believe that everything had already ended well, with no casualties, with the lord unharmed, according to the medics, and in just two days.

The Lord was just inside the cargo hold, not far from the platform. Pale, barely moving, a couple of medics were working on him, giving him a full scan. He seemed to have just been brought aboard and had just not yet had time to move him into more comfortable quarters and remove the "individual shield" container from his chest. The large white box, worn over the chest and held in place by wide straps, had little resemblance to the sleek concealed carry models but had two distinct advantages: power and relatively low cost.

Seeing her face, the lord tried to smile, but from the looks of it, her facial muscles were still paralyzed:

"By pure accident," Taer admitted to the lord's question about how he'd been found. "We saw a broadcast of a rally, and I wondered if the speaker had an atypical eye shape, so..."

"So there was a broadcast..." Lord stretched out, torturing the letters. "Damn, how I didn't think of that."

"I thought that was the plan, you know, to make it easier to find..."

"I didn't really have time to... Wait," Alex said. "It was only half an hour, maybe an hour ago. How could you do it so fast?"

"'My lord, we've been down on Tallana for the second day, looking for you," Taer replied, trying to keep herself emphatically formal in the presence of her subordinates. Speaking of subordinates...

"Perhaps you could move His Lordship to a more suitable room." She turned to the medics, her voice disgruntled.

"Of course, Sword. Just a few moments, we're almost done."

"Who are all these people," Alex asked in a whisper when they were finally alone. Almost alone, the Carpathian was standing near the front door, still wearing his armor, like Taer who had found the lord. "And by the way, what about the bomb?"

"It's an addition to your Arm, recruited from Intelligence and part of Baroness Rionale's Arm. And the bomb is already being dealt with by our biggest specialist in the matter."

"I understand about the replenishment," he nodded. "But Baroness Rionale's Arm is here for what."

"We couldn't find any more men trained to wear heavy armor on Copeira. So I agreed to accept the help offered by Lady Kayrin. I thought the lack of firepower and numbers might compromise the whole operation..."

"I see... And no one else?" Alex inquired and, receiving her affirmative nod, leaned back on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. It seemed that after the injections designed to relieve the cramp, he was prone to sleep. "Look." He muttered more quietly. "There's another man left at the station. You know him. It's Lady Liora's assistant, Krain. Do you remember him coming up to you at the hunt with the letter? We must get him out, he's been a great help to me here on Tallana, and then he has important records that I don't want to lose."

Hearing this request, Taer was silent, trying to figure out how to find a single "rebel" among the thousands of paralyzed, given that only she had seen him. This threatened to take a long time.

"He must be close to where they found me," Alex came to her aid.

"Then I'll leave immediately," Taer said as she stood up and turned towards the door. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"Wait," the lord stopped her. He opened one eye and pulled out two small infoblocks, one of which was shot, and a scattering of infosticks from the inside pocket of his jacket. "I'm totally knocked out." He confessed, handing her the infoblocks and sticks. 'I've got some very important information here, something about an assassination attempt, encrypted as I understand it. Let Dudo and only Dudo deal with it. Don't show the intelligence of any of this yet. Just you and him."

"All right, I'll tell him," she said with some surprise as she accepted the pile of infosticks.

After handing over what she had received to Dudo, who was hanging around the door, and dispersing the prying eyes with the phrase, "Everyone to your posts," Taer rushed to the place where the lord had been found. There was no point in saving the resources of the thrust generators, so it took her a couple of minutes to get all the way there.

Lady Liora's aide was indeed not far from where the lord was found. After handing over the 'rebel' to the stormtroopers, Taer was about to follow on to the yacht when she received a call from Grшi:

"Sword, could you come to us, please? We need a consultation. We're in the next hall across the hall from you."

She quickly oriented herself on the tactical map and headed towards the "double lieutenant". It was a short flight, and after flying through a corridor littered with traces of heavy fighting, she found herself in a small room filled with containers, many of which were open. Both Eights were here in full force, huddled against the far wall, near the tables with some kind of equipment.

The man's eyes flashed up to Taer, and Grii raised his visor and signaled for her to turn off the visual recording and follow his example.

"Sword, perhaps you might find it possible to delay the evacuation somewhat?" he asked as Taer, too, lifted her visor and turned off the recording, and stepped closer.

"What for? The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"You know, the bomb His Lordship was talking about..." he began, a little hesitantly. "Turns out to be the warhead from the anti-ship missile Constellation. There are ten sub-munitions in it. It has already been disassembled. It all has the necessary equipment to detonate each sub-munition as a separate charge. These bandits must have intended to turn the missile into ten powerful bombs."

"What's the problem? I don't know the intricacies of the type, but can't it be destroyed? If there's a problem with that, just destroy the equipment needed for the explosion, that's all. We have to leave now."

"No," Grii shook his head, "there will be no problem with destruction. Just remember what I said about the Shipyard."

"I thought it was a joke," Taer frowned.

"Yes, of course, it was a joke at the time. It was not worth trying on the yachts alone. But we've been thinking, there are eight "assault frigates," and we've got ten charges now. The ships are standing on slips unassembled - neither outer nor inner shields are likely connected, the more so inside the slips there's an atmosphere for the convenience of the workers. Even one charge would blow the place to smithereens, leaving us with two more to spare. And there's probably no security there at all right now. At least not enough for four eights in an assault armor."

"I heard you right," Taer said, lowering her voice. "You're suggesting we attack the unfinished Kilret ships and blow them up. It's an act of war. Do you understand that?" Suddenly she exploded and began gesticulating vigorously around Grai:

"Don't you think we're not out of rank and title to start a war? Not to mention it's a dishonorable act, unworthy of House Fyron's name. There's been enough talk about us since the battle at Pella to make you want to add "Tallan Meanness" to the tale."

"The ships have not been completed and have not been handed over to the House Kilret fleet, so they are currently Tallana ships."

"Great!" she exclaimed. "Let's start a war with Tallana!"

"We're already at war with Tallana," objected the 'double lieutenant' but under the sizzling stare of Taer, he couldn't stand it and added. "Technically..."

"It was a demon knows when!" Taer shrieked, waving her only moving hand expressively. "A thousand and a half years ago!"

"Nevertheless, the peace treaty was never signed. And Tallana is very fond of bringing this up every time we need to get battleships bought from the Empire through them."

Taer stammered, and glancing sideways at Grii, sighed heavily: it was the truth. Anyone in the fleet would tell you that sending a warship through Tallana is a fairy tale of idiocy, nagging, red tape, impossible demands, delays, and approvals. And if it's a big ship, it's also a murky political fuss on the planetary council. And as a former naval lieutenant, she had first-hand experience with this.

Taer sighed again and continued less emotionally:

"Anyway, before taking such action, it is worth consulting the Ruling Lord or the Privy Council. The Countess of Durlurl, after all."

"Sword, you know as well as I do that's impossible. The fortress is jamming all long-range communications near Tallana. And then when we left here, Countess Durlurl said: "...act at your own discretion, as circumstances dictate."

"I think it was about rescuing Lord Cassard, not carrying out sabotage operations."

"Madam Guards Sain Lieutenant Diltar, no one will know! Or they'll think it's the rebels. "Grii, for some reason addressing her by her full name, raised his hands pleadingly and continued. "You see, a chance like this comes along once in a thousand years. It's a miracle. We should all dress in gray and go praise Ir'Ryan for this good fortune. Defenseless Kilretan ships and us with the charges and the Aegis! They're procuring those 'frigates' against us. It is clear to the last idiot that they are not "antipiracy frigates" but attack cruisers. It's only a matter of time before they come down on us, along with House Peltar and maybe Melato, and we can blow up those toys now without any risk."

Taer cast another leering glance at Grii, folded her arms across her chest, and with a heavy sigh, applied her final argument:

"I cannot risk the safety of the lord and delay his evacuation." It was more to assuage her conscience because, in her heart, the 'specialist' was in complete agreement with the arguments. "Infiltrating the shipyard, placing the charges, it would take at least a few hours."

"You don't have to wait for us," Grii agreed cheerfully. "Leave us one yacht, we've outlined our plan to Ogerd, and he agrees. Two eights will suffice. We can pick up an aerocar with the 'cautious' ones."

This option solved many problems. Taer was going to leave one yacht to wait for the stranded airboat anyway.

The great shadows. They already managed to negotiate with the pilot and among themselves. I should make a habit of listening to the intra-group conversations from time to time, Taer made a mental note to herself.

She glanced around the group of hushed scouts who were curiously observing the argument:

"And what are you all willing to risk and stay?"

"What have we got to lose? It's our destiny in Intelligence to help the Navy. It's worth it, and there's no risk. We'd be foolish to let it go."

"The shadows are with you," Taer waved her hand in anger. "Take the third Aegis. But if you fail..." She wagged her finger at them. "Don't come home."

She switched to the general communication channel and commanded:

"The third Aegis goes under 'double lieutenant' command. Engineers and communicators stationed on it to move to First and Second. The rest of you prepare for departure. We're going home."

* * *