"We shall tolerate no special terms for the crawling spawn of Greyffin IV. Keep in mind it is only by Our good will that you continue to do business with this filth from Avalon.
'Should you grant favorable terms at this or subsequent meetings, We shall know and you will mark Our anger well."
My ships will return in a few cycles to administer a second warning. Note carefully that we do not attack Lixor or Lixorians. Therefore, we shall consider it an act of war should any Lixorian forces take hostile action against us. (signed) K. L. Valentin, Overprefect, S.M.S. Grothor.
Valentin! Narrowing his eyes, Brim lost no more than a few ticks as he made up his mind. "Mr.
Chairman," he ordered quietly, "pull Collingswood's message up on every ship's console so people don't waste time asking questions, then sound 'Action Stations.' By authority of the Captain's orders, I am taking immediate command of this ship."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," the Chairman intoned.
Brim retraced his way forward among the consoles amid alarms sounding from the companionway.
Valentin! The same Valentin, possibly? He shrugged, already too busy to give the matter more than passing thought. Less than a cycle later, the first of Truculent's flight crew began galloping onto the bridge and into their battle suits.
"Rig ship for immediate lift-off, Jubal," Brim yelled as the younger Helmsman activated the right-hand console. "Nik! I'll need full military power soon as you get the antigravs on stream."
Without a word, Ursis smashed off the main power limiters, then dump-started both generators at the same time. Brim had never been aboard a starship—anywhere—when the power drain was enough to dim the bridge lights. Truculent's nearly went out. But the consoles held their function, and with the deck shuddering violently beneath his feet, he listened as the big machines began spinning up.
"Anastasia," he shouted over the rising sound, "I'm going to need every weapons system you've got!
Disruptors. Mines. Torpedoes. The whole toot and stumble."
"How about a couple of rocks?" Fourier quipped from a display.
"Great idea," Brim laughed. "If you got some, keep 'em handy. You never know."
"Generators are running and ready at standby," Ursis reported from a display.
Stunned, Brim looked at his own instruments. "Universe," he gulped, "you did that in four cycles."
"I am in a personal hurry to see who this Valentin is," Ursis said with tooth stones flashing.
'Thanks, Nik," Brim said. He meant it. Outside through the swirling fog, he saw the base had suddenly come alive. Everywhere lamps were doused, but moonlight revealed heavy traffic on the access roads as crews raced for their vessels. Soon mooring beams began to wink out—but not a ship moved from its gravity pool.
"Tandor-Ra's broadcast orders that none of the ships outside are to lift, Lieutenant," Applewood reported momentarily. "Sent the best part of the message in the clear, they did. And nobody who's already up is to interfere in any way."
"The bastards," Brim snarled through clenched teeth. "The xaxtdamned, credit-grabbing, Lixorian bastards are going to let those Leaguers get away with this." He pounded his fist on the arm of his recliner, watching analogs feverishly stowing loose equipment on his own frosty decks below.
"One does not anger customers when one's business is minding a store," Ursis growled without looking up from his console.
Wash from idling generators all over the pool area had cleared the air, and the whole group of ships was now centered at the bottom of a great open-topped cylinder whose walls were made of swirling tendrils of fog. "Special-duty starmen close up for takeoff, Mr. Chairman," Brim ordered.
"At your command, Lieutenant," the Chairman answered. More alarms went off below and the mooring cupolas lighted.
"Testing alarm systems," Maldive's voice sounded from the chart room, and the bridge jolted as the Chairman verified functioning of Truculent's steering engine. "Thrusts in all sectors, Lieutenant."
"Very well," Brim said. He raced through the remaining pre-taxi checks, then turned to Theada.
"Jubal," he ordered, "you finish the rest of the preflighting with the Chairman while I taxi her out—because if she'll fly at all, we're going up."
Theada nodded silently. He knew....
"Mr. Chairman," Brim ordered next, "have the men in the cupolas single up all moorings—then switch to internal gravity."
"Aye, Lieutenant."
"Stand by for internal gravity!" Maldive warned from her console. The sickening transition passed quickly—Brim was nearly too busy to notice as he watched mooring beams wink out all around the ship.
"I'll speak to the Harbor Master now," he said.
Nearly a full cycle passed before an ashen-faced Lixorian ground controller appeared in one of Brim's displays. "Ground to Imperial DD T.83," she said in a shocked voice. "We...we are u-under attack near Tandor-Ra, and they won't let us—."
"Imperial DD T.83 to Ground," Brim interrupted. "I've already heard. I am about to taxi out for immediate takeoff on Becton tube 195.8."
"Ground to T.83: you are cleared to taxi," the Controller said. "No traffic in the pattern."
"T.83 to Ground," Brim replied evenly. "I intend to shoot any traffic I find in the pattern, so you will clear no one until after I'm gone. Do you understand?"
"Ground to Imperial DD T.83: we understand. You are cleared to Becton tube 195.8 for immediate takeoff; wind five forty-five at thirty-eight."
"Imperial T.83 copies," Brim answered, then peered at Theada. "How's the old rustbucket checkout, Jubal?" he asked.
"She'll taxi, Wilf," Theada said, "but I'm not done with the lift-off checks yet."
Brim smiled. "Don't let me keep you, then," he said and turned back to his COMM display. "Imperial T.83 to Ground" he continued as he peered into the fog. "Proceeding to Becton tube 195.8 for immediate takeoff."
"Helm's at dead center," the Chairman prompted.
"Stand by to move ship," Brim warned on the interCOMM as be checked his readouts and control settings. "Let go all mooring beams, Mr. Chairman. Dead slow ahead both, Nik."
"All mooring beams extinguished," the Chairman reported.
"Dead slow ahead both," Ursis acknowledged. Truculent moved smoothly off the gravity pool.
"I'll take the helm now, Mr. Chairman," Brim ordered steering a course for the Becton tube.
"You have the helm," the Chairman acknowledged.
"Lift-off check's complete, Wilf," Theada reported presently. "Chairman claims she'll fly."
Brim nodded and continued picking his way through the foggy maze of dark taxiways. No border lights guided his part this morning, only hints of direction from the bleakness beyond the Hyperscreens and the glowing instruments before him When he finally reached the tube, he immediately pivoted the ship into line and locked the brakes. "Full military ahead, Nik, be shouted. All other noise on the bridge was quickly drowned by the sudden rush of the generators.
"Ground to Imperial DD T.83: Becton tube is active—go get the bastards, Truculent!"
"Imperial T.83 to Ground: we'll do our best," Brim promised, watching the brake indicators go out on his console—a once, the powerful destroyer began its astonishing acceleration along the tube. Airborne in a matter of ticks, Brim maintained a nearly vertical climb through 960,000 irals before he nosed over and headed straight for the horizon, still under maximum acceleration.
What're you doing, Wilf?" Theada asked with a concerned frown. "We just got to this altitude—now you're down again?'