Schwartz didn’t say anything directly, just put up a tracking screen and left it open so that Ardent could follow what was happening.

  The screen showed that they were matching speeds with The Sundowner and the Defiant, but that wasn’t saying much. Neither ship could hope to match the Renheim at full tilt. It felt as though everything was happening in slow motion. They were moving at a little over three gees, a third of what they were capable of at full thrust. But then they would argue that they couldn’t risk leaving the other ships behind.

  Was this the threshold Farnese had been talking about?

  It was frustrating, naturally, but in a way she could work out what it was Meyer was trying to achieve. He’d been pushed into a knee jerk reaction as a result of the Loki’s sudden display of aggression but didn’t want to appear as though he was simply reacting to circumstances. He wanted to exude a controlled demeanour while at the same time reassuring The Galaxian that they were being fully supported.

  But, even after they’d been travelling for an hour, they still seemed to be no further forward. The only positive appeared to be that they were closing the distance with the outgoing Botany Bay and would be drawing level with them much sooner than anticipated.

  She wondered whether the passengers aboard that ship had any idea what was happening back at the orbital. If they did have any inkling they’d invariably be celebrating the fact that they were, to all intents and purposes, safe. If anyone was going to be caught out by this debacle it was going to be the passengers on their sister ship, The Galaxian.

  An ensign came over to her with a tray of energy bars. Her first response was to dismiss him but then, when she realised just how hungry she was, she went after him and ended up taking two. Then, she gobbled both of them down, one after the other. That took care of her hunger pangs but left her with a sweet taste in her mouth. She looked around for a drink to wash it away, but there was none to be found. She ended up standing there, running her tongue over her teeth rather than risk leaving the bridge.

  It was a relief when the picture on the main screen changed to show a view of The Galaxian via the station cameras. If you looked closely enough you could just make out the movement of the passengers moving along the boarding bridge and she laughed a little at the sight of it. They were going to be alright. There was a timer at the bottom of the screen which coincided with Selig’s previous estimate suggesting that they had thirty-seven minutes left.

  She didn’t know enough to work out how long before the Loki came within range of the station but she assumed that it couldn’t be long now. If Meyer was right, then the Loki had judged it about right, generating the maximum amount of tension with the smallest amount of effort on his behalf.

  This really was developing into a war of nerves and she realised that she was going to have to learn to manage her feelings better if she was going to remain on the bridge. Farnese must have been exasperated with her earlier. He’d gone down to the canteen for a break and then had to spend his time walking her through everything.

  But that still didn’t explain his outlandish exchange with Meyer. There was certainly something off about their relationship. She just didn’t know what it was.

  She was brought back to reality when someone came over and started handing out drinks. She desperately wanted to go over and take one but was eager not to draw any undue attention to herself. She was quite aware of the fact that not everyone on the bridge welcomed her presence. One of the junior officers must have seen her looking over and came across to hand her a container.

  It was plain water but she gulped it down appreciatively enough. The only problem was that she was left looking round for somewhere to dispose of the container. It was at that precise moment that the klaxons started to sound.

  Instantly, the whole bridge seemed to move into a higher gear. The senior crew were clearly accessing information she wasn’t party to and she was forced to grab one of the ensigns to find out what was going on.

  “Sorry, ma’am, I can’t stop.”

  “But what’s happening.”

  The ensign looked embarrassed by all the attention.

  “Weapons just went live, ma’am.”

  “Whose?”

  “Ours. It’s the Loki. She just launched missiles at The Galaxian. We’re preparing to engage.”

  From this distance? She wasn’t sure but that seemed like the sort of mistake only an inexperienced captain would make.

  Farnese and Meyer were locked in a furious conversation but she was too far away to make sense of what was being said.

  But it was clear where the balance of power in their relationship lay. And it wasn’t with Meyer.

  Suddenly, everything Farnese had said earlier seemed suspect. How on earth were they meant to defend The Galaxian from here? There was no way that their weapons could be effective at this range.

  By the time they arrived, it was starting to look as though they’d be too late. The damage would already have been done.

  Schwartz, the Tactical Officer, pursed her lips when she looked at Ardent, as if reading her mind. But it wasn’t her place to say anything.

  “Sir, missiles are locked and loaded,” Schwartz said. “We’re waiting on your command.”

  “Good, but we’ll hold off for now,” Meyer dismissed her with a twitch of his hand.

  Schwartz looked across at her as if to say ‘I told you so.’

  Something was going on. What she’d give to catch five minutes with Schwartz in the bathroom.

  Meyer appeared unaware of what was happening, too intent on his conversation with Farnese. Eventually, Schwartz put her weapons on hold, the tension in her jaw obvious.

  The main screen filled with Donald Resnik’s image aboard The Sundowner, the biggest ship in their little flotilla by some considerable measure.

  “What is it Captain Resnik?” Meyer didn’t attempt to hide his annoyance.

  “Sir, I’ve been speaking with Veronica Lam on the Defiant and we both agree: we’re holding you up. I just wanted you to know that if you should want to move on Laxx without us we’d be happy to bring up the rear - keep an eye on Botany Bay in your absence.”

  Meyer gripped the edges of his lectern, a vein bulging in his forehead.

  “Captain Resnik,” he pronounced ‘captain’ as though it was some terrible slur. “May I remind you that when you signed up for this mission you also agreed to abide by the USDC code of conduct.”

  “That I did, sir,” Resnik couldn’t have been more courteous. “And unlike some of the other captains I could mention, I made the effort of reading all one hundred and sixty pages of it. Not that I understood it all…”

  “Captain,” he spoke very carefully. “May I remind you that I am currently in operational command of this unit and, as such, have total control on all decisions both actual and tactical.”

  “Well, of course, sir.”

  “Good. Then I won’t need to remind you that this is a military operation and not some disagreement over docking rights. Is that clear?”

  Resnik’s naval training took over at that point, his years as a commercial pilot suddenly stripped away. It was as if he was nineteen again, back in basic training, his whole face turning red from the unwanted attention. Even the nub of his missing ear was not immune.

  “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

  “You have your orders Captain Resnik and I expect you to abide to them. In the meantime, any communication you might have with the Defiant should be channelled through Commander Farnese, here. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely, sir. Resnik out.”

  As Farnese moved away from the lectern she managed to catch his eye. In response he simply shrugged as if to say: what did he think was going to happen?

  No sooner had Resnik face disappeared than Bud Selig was back on the screen.

  Selig got straight to the point.

  “Be advised, Renheim, I am currently closing all gangways. Hatchways are to be completely secured in eight minutes, at which point…”

  “Say again, Galaxian? What was that?”

  Selig rolled his eyes towards the camera as if unsure whether he could be heard.

  “Repeat: am closing all gangways, securing all hatches …”

  “Belay that order, Mr Selig,” the omission of Selig’s title was clearly not accidental. “You are to continue with the boarding procedure as agreed.”

  “Captain Meyer, I don’t know whether you’ve noticed but I’ve got missiles heading in my general direction.”

  Meyer didn’t look up from tapping information and swiping his display.

  “I am well aware of your current operational status, Galaxian, but may I remind you that you are currently docked at an orbital facility served by not one but two laser defence stations. Mr Selig, this is pure sabre rattling of the very worst kind, nothing more. His aim, pure and simple is to unnerve us and put us off our game but this will not happen. I would remind you that you are currently engaged in a humanitarian mission on behalf of the Confederation.”

  “I get that, but …”

  “But, nothing Mr Selig. You have your orders and you will carry them out. Please continue with the boarding procedure.”

  Selig’s face was awash with conflicting emotions as he glanced first at his read-outs and then back at the camera. He appeared to be on the verge of tears.

  “How long before you get here?” he demanded.

  “We are heading over now. Thank you for your continued compliance, Captain Selig. Meyer out.”

  As Farnese moved to go past Ardent, she snagged the fabric of his jacket between thumb and forefinger and held him there.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered. “What’s Meyer playing at?”

  “It’s called ‘holding your nerve,’ governor. You might try it some time.”

  Ardent let the insult go, surprised and a little disappointed that he should resort to such jibes.

  “These people are in real danger and what does Meyer do: drag his feet, as always. What’s the point of having a ship like this if he won’t make use of its capabilities?”

  Farnese leaned into the side of her neck.

  “With respect, governor, you don’t understand the first thing about what’s going on here.”

  “You might be right about that, commander, but I do know that if Captain Faulkner was here right now he wouldn’t sit idly by. Why don’t you do something?”

  He turned his head so that he could scrutinise her more closely. This close, she found his gaze more than a little disconcerting.

  “Old Man Faulkner?” he sneered. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

  Ardent was incensed. “Can’t you see what’s happening? You’re meant to protect these people, but every opportunity you get you fall back on these old excuses about operational security and the like. Forget Meyer. I’m talking to you. When are you going to step up and actually do something? And while we’re at it: what do you mean by ‘threshold?’”

  The surprise was evident in Farnese’s face even though he was quick to cover it. He backed away, keeping his eyes on her as he approached comms desk.

  Ardent felt something twist inside of her. A physical pain which she couldn’t explain. And when she looked at Farnese again, he seemed like a stranger.

  She scanned around her, desperately hoping that someone had witnessed what had passed between them. But the people closest only had eyes for their instruments.

  What was she to do now?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A lot had happened in the past forty-eight hours. And while the death of Mahbarat was still to be announced, it was clear to everyone aboard the Serrayu, the mighty Yakutian battle cruiser, that major changes were afoot.

  All the normal procedures continued in their usually flawlessly efficient manner but there was a subdued quality to everything now, as if no one wanted to draw attention to themselves.

  Where that left Morton though, she wasn’t entirely sure. Certainly, those members of the crew senior enough to warrant an opinion on such matters, now viewed her in a completely different light. The normal stony brusqueness which she’d been met with previously as both a foreigner, and a female foreigner at that, was gone. In its place was a frosty sense of grudging acquiescence which she found even more difficult to cope with.

  The one positive thing to come out of this whole bloodletting saga was that she was no longer confined to her cell. They’d moved her to her own room. It was spartan but comfortable enough. There were always two Scarpi guards assigned to her door and she couldn’t quite decide whether they were there for her own protection or to prevent her from straying.

  The guards had entered her room that morning just as she had been drying her hair. Because they didn’t speak English, they had refrained from saying anything and had just stood there waiting for her to accompany them. She wasn’t in the mood to be intimidated and had taken longer than usual to get dressed. When she was ready, she indicated for them to lead her out which resulted in some minor maneuvering as they insisted that she take her place in the middle, with one at the front and one at the rear, their weapons held at port arms.

  There was the smell of burning metal in the air and everywhere she looked there seemed to be groups of men making repairs to the fabric of the ship, some of them quite substantial. In one section they came across, the corridor’s walls and ceiling were black with soot from where some kind of barricade had been set on fire and at another junction, people were removing whole sections of wall where they had been hit and largely destroyed by a series of laser blasts. The fact that anyone had thought it a good idea to open up with lasers within the confines of their own ship only went to highlight the intensity of the feeling manifested on board. But, whatever had happened earlier, now appeared to be over, the men – and they were, invariably, all men – had organised themselves into work teams and appeared to be making rapid progress. There was not a single sign of conflict or even dissent.

  To an outsider, it appeared as though whatever threat had presented itself was now long gone, but Morton wasn’t fooled. The whole place was a virtual tinder box – it could go up at any time.

  Eventually, they arrived at the main foyer, built around the five turbo lifts which serviced this level. Since last night’s disturbances it had developed into a large muster area for all sorts of people including a large gathering of prisoners. These were the very people she’d been sharing space with just the previous day and she couldn’t help but feel a certain sympathy with their predicament.

  Looking around, she tried to get a sense of what was happening. There was a real feel of excitement about the place. Morton had become intimately acquainted with the stringent dress codes favoured by the representative members of the various Yakutian households after everything she’d been through in the previous few days. She was now able to pick out the padded shoulder pauldrons favoured by the House of Perseverance, the thin blue sash belts of the House of Attrition or the intricate sleeve insignia of the House of Fortitude. For a time back there, the ability to determine such subtle distinctions had become a vital survival skill – you learned to approach each group in a slightly different way – often with your hands raised.

  Now, it was much easier to pick out the victors from the vanquished just from their dress codes. The victors wore their normal dress uniforms while their opponents had been stripped of their jackets. Most of the prisoners wore just their trousers but others were wearing nothing more than their regulation white unitards. And if that wasn’t enough of a clue to how this whole thing had panned out for them, they had been trussed up with lengths of rope which bound their upper arms tightly to their sides.

  Most of the prisoners showed some signs of injury or mistreatment, some of it quite major. When a man sporting a recent gunshot wound was marched past she attempted to help. This resulted in a heated altercation between her guards and those supervising the prisoners. She ended up being spirited away, much to her annoyance.

  Situated in the centre of all this was a makeshift administration area where each new group of prisoners was being brought over in order that they might be checked in. The Scarpi made it clear that she was also to be registered though the clerical staff were in no hurry to process her. Instead, she had to stand around waiting to be called.

  They hadn’t been there for more than fifteen minutes when a senior administrator appeared. He appeared to be expecting her because all of the relevant paperwork on his tablet already. The man was very efficient and it didn’t take him long to take her through everything.

  At the end, he handed her a printed ID with her photo on it. He also gave her a lanyard.

  “Why do I need this?”

  “You need to show this at the checkpoints. And you’ll also need this,” he gave her an orange laminated tag. “That’ll get you into the auditorium.”

  “The auditorium?”

  The man didn’t look at her directly but his frustration was clear enough. “Commander Sunderam is making his unity speech. It’s a great honour to be invited. The rest of us will have to watch it on the home screens.”

  “Okay. Thank you for that,” she checked behind her. There were three people queuing patiently. “I was just wondering. I’m trying to find someone. We got separated yesterday. I wondered if you might be able to help?”

  The man considered the people queuing. “Have you got a name for this person.”

  “Bayas. Thank you.”

  He entered the name and then went on to ask her a whole host of questions, none of which she had an answer to.

  Eventually, he said, “Do you at least know which house he belongs to?”

  “Oh, yes, I do. House of Fortitude, I think. Yes, that’s the one.”

  The man planted his hands firmly on the desk and gave her a sour look.