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“Everything looks good here,” Voorhies reported.

“Security clearance granted!” Murragh said. His fingers danced over the keyboard as fast as the gloves would allow them. “I’m starting the download.”

They had agreed that the most effective way to obtain the information they wanted was to download everything they could from the admiral’s secured files into the data chip, rather than searching for the specific material they wanted and quite possibly tempting fate a little too long. But the downside to this approach was the volume of material contained in the terminal’s local memory, which took a long time to transfer…and, of course, the risk that the command codes might not be in the data they obtained, forcing another attempt later.

It seemed to take hours before Murragh finally announced that the chip was full, though Bondarevsky knew it was only a matter of minutes. The kil disconnected his hardwire lead, then carefully removed the data chip before gesturing to Mayhew to cut the power. The computer screen faded back to blackness.

“Bondarevsky to Shuttle. Ready for pick-up.” It was pure relief to utter those simple words.

Flag Bridge, ex-KIS Karga

Orbiting Vaku VII, Vaku System

1218 hours (CST), 2670.319

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Karga is operational.”

Bondarevsky held his breath as Admiral Richards uttered the words and then tapped a combination into the control board in front of him. There was a long pause in which the silence hung heavy. Then, suddenly, orange-tinged emergency lights flickered on in the compartment, and a bank of consoles lit up. The men and women of the Goliath team gathered on the flag bridge gave a ragged cheer.

Karga was alive again, if only barely.

Murragh had extracted the command codes from the data chip on the shuttle trip back to Independence, using a Kilrathi wrist computer that had been part of his gear on Nargrast. Overnight the salvage crew had returned to the ship in force to go to work on the computer system, bringing it back on-line long enough to purge the self-destruct order, then starting to work on basic systems repairs. The ship had emergency power now, a precious few instruments, lights, and the possibility of at least partial artificial gravity with a few more hours’ work in Engineering. But before they got back to the job, Richards had ordered the Goliath personnel to suspend everything for a few minutes. All over the ship space-suited personnel, most of them from Diaz’s salvage team but with the addition of a picked handful of the crew who had traveled aboard the City of Cashel, stopped what they were working on to listen to the general address comm channel.

With one leg hooked under a seat to hold him in place in weightlessness, Admiral Geoff Tolwyn cleared his throat.

“Attention to orders!” Aengus Harper announced unnecessarily. There was no need. Everyone was silent as Tolwyn began to speak.

“To Geoff Tolwyn, Rear-Admiral, Free Republic of Landreich Navy,” he began. “Sir. By direction of the President and the Admiralty of the Free Republic of Landreich, you are hereby requested and required to take up the charge and command of Landreich hull number 106, formerly designated KIS Karga, and to proceed to render all possible repairs to said vessel in order to render it spaceworthy…”

As the admiral’s voice droned on, reading the formal phrases from a projected image on the HUD display of his suit helmet, Bondarevsky’s attention wavered. The stilted ceremonial had an archaic feel to it, and he suspected that Max Kruger, a self-taught man who relished the odd bit of obscure antiquarian knowledge, had probably adapted it from some old Terran source. At first glance it might have seemed foolish to go through this ceremonial now, with so much to be done, but Bondarevsky recognized the reasoning behind it. Even though Karga wouldn’t be capable of functioning as an independent unit of the fleet for a long time to come, she would soon be receiving most of her designated crew from the City of Cashel, men and women who would be facing the enormous job of refitting her from stem to stern. And in order for that crew to function, they must officially become part of a Landreich naval command. By “reading himself in” Tolwyn was establishing his legal authority as master of the Karga, the officer whose word would be absolute law as long as she was in space.

“…nor you, nor any of you, will fail, at your peril,” Tolwyn finished with a flourish. “Signed Maximillian Kruger, President and Commander-in-Chief, Armed Forces of the Free Republic.”

The admiral paused before going on in a more conversational tone of voice. “We’ve overcome the first hurdle, but I won’t try to hide the fact that we’ve got plenty of other problems to deal with if we’re going to get this old girl into some kind of shape. With your talents and God’s help I think we can manage it…we have to manage it, for the good of the Landreich and for the future of all Mankind.” He fell silent again for a moment, then turned toward Admiral Richards. “Sir?”

Richards, in his turn, began to speak, reading from a prepared text similar to Tolwyn’s. The phrases were different in places-“…charge and command of Admiral commanding Provisional Battle Croup Karga…operational command of ships and vessels previously assigned to Battle Group Independence …lend all support to the repair and refitting of the ex-KIS Karga…”-but the intent was the same. By his words Richards was “hoisting his flag” as the CO of the battle group which would be built around Karga, always assuming the salvage effort was successful. Independence would remain technically under Camparelli and Galbraith, standing by to furnish protection for as long as she was needed. But the rest of the ships that had accompanied the escort carrier to the Vaku system would henceforth take their orders from Richards.

His orders read out, Richards declined to make any sort of speech. He merely paused, then inclined his helmeted head back toward Tolwyn. “Proceed with the project, Captain,” he said quietly. They had agreed beforehand that Bondarevsky’s reading-in ceremony would take place later, among his own people on the flight deck.

Tolwyn responded with crisp authority. “Let’s get this show on the road, people,” he said. “Survey details to commence operations immediately according to the prepared schedule. Notify City of Cashel we will be ready to receive shuttles whenever they wish to begin off-loading our people. And contact Sindri; tell Dickerson that we’re ready.”

The crew on the flag bridge was already in motion by the time the orders were given. Grasping a handhold near the rear of the compartment, Bondarevsky watched them turn to with a feeling of pride. Whatever happened in the weeks and months ahead, this was a good team, and if anyone could restore life to the shattered remains of the supercarrier, they could.

Bridge, FRLS Sindri

Orbiting Vaku VII, Vaku System

1232 hours (CST)

Thrusters at twenty percent,“ Captain Charles Dickerson ordered. ”Bring us in nice and slow.“

Sindri was floating above and behind Karga in orbit around the brown dwarf, edging closer as the helmsman deftly manipulated the tender’s thrusters to approach the derelict. After hundreds of years in space, the most difficult maneuver to carry out continued to be docking one ship to another, but Sindri’s pilot was skilled at close-in handling and Dickerson had every confidence in his ability.

Still, it was a time for crossed fingers and held breaths. Dickerson knew tender captains who relied on rabbits’ feet for luck, though he scorned them. He preferred the sprig of Taran pseudo-clover he carried in his pocket.