Stven studied the squadrons in the display, his thoughts not on the Chessori but on the unlucky crewmembers who were with them. How had the Rebels convinced them to stay with their ships? Surely, they’d jump ship at the first port of opportunity. Then he wondered… were these ships allowed into port?
“This is big trouble, my friend. Seeton and Buskin can’t fight these guys.”
“Not without a lot of Great Cats, they can’t. And consider this: it wouldn’t take very many Chessori to man the guns of a squadron during a fight. They wouldn’t have to cook or clean or repair, they’d just have to have a pilot and some gunners. They wouldn’t be very effective, but they wouldn’t have to be if their targets were incapacitated. They could take them out at their leisure, just as you saw them do at Dorwall.”
Stven barely caught the puff before it left his nostril. He sucked it in and swallowed, then let his digestive system deal with it. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it worked in a pinch. “So a few Great Cats might hold their own against them.”
“Exactly. We need to get the word out.”
“To whom?”
“To someone who can spread it for us. We can’t be everywhere.”
“Seeton or Buskin.”
“Or both. Who’s closest?”
Stven considered. “We don’t know where Buskin is, but he gave us coordinates for a ship that will know, and he won’t be far from there. If we go to Seeton, it’ll take an extra three weeks of in-system travel. Let’s find Buskin.”
Borg and his partners stayed near the bridge as the trailing squadron neared. Stven needed to get as far beneath the system as he could before jumping. He waited until the approaching ships were half a day away, then M’Sada jumped. He laboriously executed one more jump while the AI was down for a beacon change, then they headed toward the rendezvous with Buskin.
Krys was up in a few days, dealing with a headache and blurred vision, but nothing worse. Her healing would continue at its own pace now without stimulants or medicines. She resumed her meditations and a limited exercise regimen, with Tarn always in attendance to keep a close eye on her.
No one needed to state the obvious: something in Krys was more sensitive to the Chessori mind weapon than it was in the others. She suffered physical damage while they just suffered pain. Had it affected her Seer abilities? No one knew.
The rendezvous point was deep in interstellar space, so they were able to jump to it without the three week delay of transiting a planetary system. When they arrived, a full, heavy squadron filled their screens. When challenged, Stven gave the password. The proper password was received in response, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“We need to see your boss,” Stven said. “Can you give me the coordinates?”
“Sorry, but it’s not our way. Who are you, and why are you here?”
“Our true identity is Rappor. Is that adequate identification?”
“It is. We’ll take you aboard and supply a pilot.”
Stven and M’Sada looked at each other in surprise. “I hate to give up control of the ship,” Stven said, “but from their perspective, it’s a good plan.”
They went aboard the cruiser and were met by a Commodore Gzant. A pilot was waiting with Gzant.
“Do you bring news?” the commodore asked.
“We do. Your welcoming procedures are going to have to change,” Stven said.
Stven, accompanied by Kross, followed the commodore to his office. “What’s up?” the commodore asked when they were seated.
“We have reason to believe the Chessori are aboard some Empire ships. Well… I guess I’d have to call them Rebel ships, now. Are you familiar with the Chessori mind weapon?”
“I’ve been briefed.”
“We don’t know how strong it is or what its range is, but if a single Chessori gets aboard your ship, you will have lost your command.”
“Hmm. I see what you mean. We’re going to have to inspect every ship. That’s a tall order.”
“You have no choice, sir, and you’ll have to stand well off while you do it.”
“Agreed. I’ll need Imperial Marines. Will you inform Admiral Buskin for me? I’d like to stay on station here if possible.”
“I will. Are you receiving many recruits?”
“I’ll leave that to him to explain. Fair enough?”
“It is, sir. We’ll be on our way.”
Rappor’s crew remained out of the net. Only the pilot provided by Gzant knew where they were going, and it wasn’t far. One short jump brought them to the rendezvous point. The pilot was considerate enough to activate the screens on the bridge, and the view they beheld was surprising. Some three hundred ships occupied a position deep in interstellar space.
Buskin met them when they came aboard his cruiser, and he led Krys, Tarn, Stven, M’Sada, and the three Great Cats to his office. “What news do you bring?” he asked without delay.
“It’s not good, sir. We were attacked by Empire ships that were flown by Chessori,” Stven informed him.
Buskin scratched his chin. “I just learned of that possibility myself.”
“You’re going to have to change procedures at the rendezvous point, sir.”
“I know. We’re briefing Imperial Marines as we speak. They’ll inspect each ship before we let them come here. Consider it done, my friends.” He turned to Krys. “Have your visits been successful?”
“Mostly. You can take Sangia Sector off your list. Admiral Stebbenz is dead, and the Rebels have taken over.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. I, too, have news. I just received a visit from Governor Veswicki. The Queen is alive and well.”
“She’s there?” Krys asked, rising to her feet.
“No. Her whereabouts are a secret. Veswicki received a visit from Chandrajuski and two Knights. They’ve been with her.”
Low growls of satisfaction came from the Great Cats. Krys beamed as she turned to Tarn. No words were needed as similar thoughts passed between them. Another of her visions had come true.
“So what happens now?” she asked, turning back to Buskin.
“No changes at present. I’m to continue spreading the word and accepting recruits. I received no instructions concerning you.”
“It looks like you’ve been successful,” M’Sada interjected.
Buskin turned a grim expression on him. “The ships here represent failure, Lieutenant. Each one of them is from a sector or district headquarters that has fallen to the Rebels. My forces are, indeed, expanding, but the Queen’s are not.”
M’Sada’s upper hands began preening the whiskers on his face. “Understood, sir.”
“There’ll be more. I’ll soon begin setting up additional locations for them to gather and train. I have more senior admirals than I know what to do with.”
“Have my brothers come?” Borg asked.
“Some. Not enough, now that we know we might have to fight military ships. Chessori traders are one thing, but military ships seriously add to the difficulties.”
“We’ve set a new process in place aboard Rappor, sir. Our net is given to the three Great Cats when we’re threatened by the Chessori.”
“We’re working on a similar arrangement. It’s the only way I can think of to deal with Chessori ships. Now that Rebel ships are manned by Chessori, I’m going to need a lot of your brothers,” he said to Borg. “We’ve only received two hundred so far.”
“How many more do you need?”
“Thousands if we’re to be effective.”
“Perhaps a personal visit to Brodor by Krys would be appropriate.”
Buskin looked to Krys. “We need you out there spreading the word, but he’s right. We desperately need more cats.”
“I’ll go. It won’t take long.”
“Why don’t we both go,” Buskin said. “ Rappor can stay aboard, and you can enjoy a little break from routine. A visit by me is overdue anyway. I need to arrange a better meeting process with the Great Cats. Right now, the messengers from Brodor send all their recruits back to Brodor and we pick them up there. We need to expand the program to reduce travel times.”