Things were moving fast, and the days were a blur of crises. Rawl and Cony were distrustful of each other. Rawl considered Cony a shady and undisciplined possible smuggler, and Cony considered Rawl a spy who would use anything he learned against the traders when this was over. To some extent, I could use their mutual enmity for our benefit, but walking the fine line between them was wearing. Both of them proved their value almost immediately, though.
Rawl brought me a chubby, cheerful-looking man in a rumpled Fleet Commander's uniform two sizes too small. He turned out to be a retired Commander, and an absolute genius at handling paperwork. He had an unerring judgment regarding what to refer to me and what should simply be affixed with my forged signature. He could sign my name better than I could.
Rawl also assumed responsibility for our counterespionage efforts. The viceroy’s computers had access to all Fleet files, of course, including the personnel files of all Military Intelligence personnel assigned to the rim sector. Rawl took charge of security for the shipyard, and within a week had more than a dozen MI Agents in custody.
Cony's major contribution early on was running interference with the tramp captains for me. They’d appointed a committee to deal with Cord’s representative, me, and were proceeding to try to negotiate their participation as though it were a trade contract. As a trader myself, I could understand their viewpoint. I couldn't tolerate it, of course, but I understood it.
Until we could design and build weapons modifications, though, there was little but the occasional intelligence operation to occupy over thirty ships and crews. Cony got their committee to discussing every possible facet of their involvement, and was happily wrangling with them for hours at a time while leaving me free to deal with other problems. Like finding an Astrogator for Valkyrie, and a permanent Flag Captain.
I called the Spacer Guild office on Outback, but it predictably turned out to be a one-person operation. The Guild representative recognized me immediately. He’d already been briefed on my need for an Astrogator rated for DIN-class freighters. “As you can imagine, Commodore, There are few out here with ratings for that type equipment. There is none on Outback at the moment, of course, but I’ve spread the word to every planet in the sector. Hopefully, we’ll come up with someone in a few weeks.”
I groaned, but it was no worse than I’d expected. I mentioned to him that anyone who signed on would be volunteering for a fight, and that I’d consider signing someone on temporarily on a salaried basis, if necessary. He agreed to send the supplementary information to all the Guild offices in the sector.
My quest for a permanent Flag Captain was another problem. Captains qualified to command ships as large as Valkyrie were rare on the rim, and of those we located, there were none I’d trust with the old bitch. Complicating the search was the fact that my Flag Captain would also have to be qualified to double as my deputy.
I was discussing our lack of success with Cony when he mentioned what could be the answer to the problem.
“Weel, Commodore, They is this gloot owns a ship's chandlery and big bar on Thaeron. I heerd he war a destroyer skipper afore he ‘tired outen the Fleet. Heerd he gottim an Empire Star.” His face screwed up in concentration. “Got onea them ladeedah innerworld names with a hyphen. Ran… Van…” He snapped his fingers. “Got it! Tan-Li! Oh, sorry, Tan dash Li, ladeedah. Li with a ‘I’”
I jerked to attention. “Tan-Li? Sharlo Tan-Li?”
Cony frowned. “Cud be. Yeah, m’thinkin’ that's it. Y’know 'im?”
I nodded. “Very well. He was one of the best combat skippers in the Fleet. He’s the reason I survived Haskins’ World. It must be him! There can’t be that many Empire Star winners on the rim.”
“Weel, now he’s got thet bar ‘n chandlery at the commercial port just outside the base. Mightn't be smart t’try to visit ‘im right now.”
We decided that I would record a message crystal and Cony would see that it was delivered to Sharlo Tan-Li on Thaeron.
I turned on the recorder. I was in full Commodore’s uniform less hat, but I was sure he’d recognize me. “Hello, Shar. It’s been a long time. If you own a bar on Thaeron, I’m sure you know what's going on. ‘God’ Jonas thinks he can take over the rim. As you can see, I’ve been appointed by the Viceroy to stop him.” I grinned. “Who’d believe I’d finally get my star because of Jonas!” I let the grin fade and turned serious again. “I need you, Shar. I need a Flag Captain. None of these rimworlders can handle a DIN-class, and none of them have ever seen combat.
“I know you’re retired, and I know why. Sheol, it was the same reason I left. But I need you, Shar. By the way, I haven’t had a nightmare since I signed on with Cord. I believe in him, Shar. He’s good for the rim. I hear Jonas is telling the troops that the Emperor has abandoned them. It’s not true, Shar. I've seen a message from the Emperor himself guaranteeing repatriation, even if the rim is abandoned, and I have Cord’s word. I believe him. Besides, think how good it would feel to help me slap ‘God’ Jonas down! I hope you'll join me.”
I couldn't say more. The crystal could fall into Jonas' hands. Sheol, if he didn't believe me, Shar might turn it in himself! I turned the crystal over to Cony to be smuggled to Thaeron.
A month after we grounded, I was up to my elbows in paper when my office door opened and a skinny, nearly bald head thrust through. “The enemy's attacking, Commodore. Gird your loins or something!”
“Hari!” I yelled, delighted. “Tell me you’ve figured out how to make warships out of these rim tramps! They’re all we’ve got, you know.”
He grinned back. “Maybe I have,” he replied, “And you’re wrong about them being all you’ve got!” Then, incredibly, the head withdrew and the door slammed.
I jumped to my feet, cursing. “Hari! You bastard! Get back here!” I yelled as I scrambled for the door. I yanked it open just in time to see Hari’s cadaverous body disappearing around the corner at the end of the corridor. Cursing non-stop I lurched into pursuit. I caught up to him just outside the entrance to the building.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled.
Hari just grinned. “Getting you out of that damned office,” he replied calmly. “And I’ve won ten credits doing it. I bet Jax I could get you to come out before dark.” Jax had been serving as my aide since our arrival.
I swelled up with indignation. Then the ridiculous image of me pounding down the hall cursing in pursuit of Hari made me dissolve into uncontrollable laughter. When I finally regained some composure, I said, “OK, Hari. But I think I ought to get half of those ten credits.”
The skull-like head shook. “Not a chance. I’m the one who took a chance on your temper.”
We laughed again. “Did you mean what you said? Have you figured out how to use the rim tramps? Come in and tell me about it.”
He shook his head again. “Nope. The other half of the bet was that I have to keep you out of the office all afternoon. If you want to find out what you have to fight with, you’ll have to come out to the shipyard with me. We’ve got a little demonstration set up for you.”
I started to protest about the pile of work on my desk when I realized that nothing on my desk, sheol, nothing on the planet was as important as Hari’s weapons research. I shrugged in defeat. “All right, Hari, let’s go see what kind of toys you've come up with.”
Chapter IV
Unsurprisingly, we headed for Engineering as soon as the crushing pressure of liftoff eased. The rim tramp we had boarded at the shipyard was brand new. It had been finished, but not yet delivered, when we’d arrived. I’d immediately seized it in Cord’s name. We were using it as a test bed for Hari’s weapons designs. It looked normal enough. The only difference I could see between now and when we’d seized it was a ring of three equidistant bumps around her middle.