Nearly an hour passed before the screen once more flared to show the older man. "We have verified your maneuvering data. You are authorized to maneuver to your jump point. However, you are ordered to hold your acceleration and velocity to one which will permit the picket boat accompanying you to remain on station. If you begin to accelerate away from him, he has been ordered to fire on you."
"Understood, sir," Via replied. "I will delay acceleration thirty standard seconds, so that you can inform the pilot. Thank you for your assistance and consideration, sir."
The man nodded condescendingly, a slight smile on his face as the screen blanked.
Via, unsure about handling the drive controls, inched them gingerly from their stops, stopping as soon as the acceleration monitor began to register. The Lass began to creep toward her jump point, the picket boat matching her movements.
It was nearly six hours before they reached the jump point and Via set the controls for jump. Hailing her escort, she sincerely thanked the young pilot for his consideration, then activated the jump circuits.
Chapter 11
Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief once they were safely supralight. Discussing the past calibration stop, they agreed that, on the whole, the encounter had gone well. Jirik had been very impressed with Via's cool head and acting ability, and told her so. Bran and Tor agreed enthusiastically.
"It was nothing special," the woman protested embarrassedly. "Any of you could've done it. The only really dangerous part was right after we emerged. Once they started talking, I was sure we'd be all right."
"That may be true," Jirik replied, "but you pulled it off beautifully. I really liked the way you handled that pompous ass with all the jewelry.'
"Yeah," Bran laughed. "Did you see those uniforms? Unbelievable. That system may have a severe shortage of taste, but they sure have an abundance of tackiness!"
Jirik grimaced. "Parade soldiers!" he replied disgustedly. "I'd bet that that Admiral or whatever the hell he was has never even seen combat, other than on a Trivid."
Tor looked surprised. "But Captain! He had a whole chest full of medals! You could hardly see the front of his uniform!"
The others grinned. "Right," Jirik replied, "But I'd bet that they're all the equivalent of Good Conduct medals, or for great accomplishments behind a desk. Look, kid," He continued, "I put in ten years with the Alliance Marines. I can tell you, any military organization that knows that it may have to go into combat has better things to expend its time and appropriations on than fancy uniforms and meaningless medals. The General commanding the Alliance Marines has less than half the number of medals that that popinjay had, but he earned every one of them – and not from behind a desk!"
"This is all just as fascinating as hell, Skipper," Via interrupted, "But maybe we'd better be evaluating that last stop and planning for the next one instead of critiquing military haberdashery."
Jirik grinned. "You're right. I'm sorry, but phony heroes like that just piss me off. Okay, what have we learned from the last stop, and how will it affect the rest of the trip?"
Bran snickered. "We learned that they're not as trigger-happy in this sector as Via feared."
"Not really," Via replied seriously. "The only thing that I learned was that if they start to talk, they probably won't shoot without warning; and we already knew that. However," She continued, "We did learn that when a ship emerges with its plague beacon running, any ships in the vicinity scatter immediately. We assumed that, but it's nice to have it confirmed. If there was a pirate there, he ran with the rest of them."
"Right!" Jirik asserted. "That alone makes this plague beacon gimmick worth while. They spread out like a flock of Trillian flith birds, and they stayed well away the whole time, even after you told your story. They were probably all listening in, but none of them even tried to call you on ship-to-ship.
Bran shrugged. "That's no surprise. Nobody wants to get involved with a plague ship, even over the comm."
"Right," Jirik replied, "And another thing. Not even a hidebound Planetary Militia like that one is likely to take a lot of time in routing you through. Judging by appearances and past experience, I would guess that it normally takes weeks and piles of credits to get through to that pompous ass. We were on our way in hours."
Via was still unenthused. "It did take over ten hours for that recal stop," she complained. "Normally, we'd have been out of there in a bit over three."
Jirik shrugged. "The price of security. I don't think it's excessive."
"Me neither!" Tor interjected. "I'd rather spend a couple of extra hours at a recal point than try to outwit a pirate again!"
Bran had been thinking. "Did anyone notice how many ships left the system between our arrival and departure, and which way they headed?"
"No," Via admitted, "I had more pressing matters on my mind."
Jirik grinned. "I assumed that you would, so I left the detectors in 'record' mode. Shall we run the chip?"
Bran jumped to his feet. "Damned right! If any of them left from a jump point near ours, they may make it easier in the next system, or the one after that."
Jirik nodded. "Exactly. Spacers are the universe's greatest gossips. I'd bet that word of a K'jinnthian plague ship is spreading all over the sector by now. If the next system, or the next, has advance word of us, it can really be of help to us."
"Yeah," Via replied sourly, "They'll have their lasers and blasters primed and ready." but she accompanied the others to the bridge to run the chip record of the Lass' sensor readings during the recal stop.
Some five hours later, they finished. All four stretched and stamped about the bridge, relieving cramped and tensed muscles.
Jirik summed up the results. "Seven total, two probables, one possible. Not bad."
"One of those probables was almost a certainty," Tor protested. "His jump point orientation was virtually identical to ours!"
"True," replied Via, "But we don't know how long a jump he was making. He was probably going to the same system that we are, but that's by no means a certainty."
"We can hope," Bran commented. "If he arrives before us, he could save us a lot of explaining, and lessen the chances that they'll shoot us out of the sky."
Via rounded on Bran. "I thought that you didn't believe that they'd shoot without warning. Change your mind?"
"I don't believe that I ever said that," Bran replied with massive dignity, "I always considered it a possibility, but I felt, and still feel, that the risk was justified. I don't like playing games with plague beacons any better than you do; but I don't know of any alternative that gives us a better chance of survival. Do you?"
Via simply shrugged.
Throughout the rest of the jump, they endlessly discussed the first of what they began calling "plague stops", hashing and rehashing every detail of the encounter, hoping for some insight that would help make the remaining two plague stops as smooth and safe as possible
Jirik was watching one of his favorite swashbuckler holovids one 'evening' in mid-jump when there was a quiet knock on his cabin door. He opened it, and was unsurprised to see Via in the passageway. He had assumed that she would be dropping by for one of their now-habitual chats. This time, though, she seemed to have something on her mind. Jirik snapped off the vid, and ushered his guest into the cabin's only chair before seating himself on his bunk.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, Captain," she began hesitantly
Jirik shrugged. "Of course not. I've come to enjoy our talks They make a long jump shorter, and a good deal more pleasant. I'm going to miss them when you sign off." He eyed her shrewdly. "You seem preoccupied. Is there something specific that you'd like to talk about? Is it Tor?"