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The space gig floated through the observatory habitat’s main ship lock and was immediately winched to a tie down pad within the large cylindrical hangar bay. As soon as the gig was secure, its flanks were buffeted by a hurricane of expanding air as atmosphere was released into the bay. Tessa unstrapped and floated toward the midship’s airlock.

Sergeant Major Cochrane of Warwind’s marines waited in the hangar bay with a small squad to welcome his captain. Despite the lack of gravity and his space armor, Cochrane managed to look as though he were standing on the parade ground back at headquarters.

“Situation report, Sergeant Major!”

“The habitat is secure, Captain,” the sergeant’s amplified voice said from somewhere around his belt. “We control communications and are continuing to transmit routine messages and scientific data. We’ve rounded up the observatory staff and have them in the mess hall, all except the head man. He’s waiting for you in his office.”

“No stragglers?”

“No, ma’am. We tapped into their roster and have them all identified by face and retina scan. There are twenty-eight of them. Ten scientists, twelve assistants, and six housekeeping and maintenance types.”

She nodded. It would be even more crowded aboard Warwind on the return voyage than on the outbound leg, but that couldn’t be helped. A warship was not a liner. Even with every free bit of cubic crammed with food and other consumables when they’d launched, this voyage was straining their resources to the limit. They would naturally restock from the observatory’s supplies of foodstuffs and oxygen, but even so, by the time they returned to the Galaxy, ship’s crew and prisoners would be on short rations.

“What is the name of the lead astronomer?”

“Senior Academician Trevor Vannick, Captain. I must warn you that he is not a happy individual.”

“Did he resist when you captured him?”

“Other than cuss us out in about four languages? No, ma’am!”

“Conduct me to him.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Cochrane gave a silent order over his helmet commlink and his party immediately assumed convoy positions. Tessa grasped Cochrane’s equipment harness and let him tow her toward the axis hatchway using his suit’s maneuvering thrusters.

The habitat’s interior was as nondescript and common as its exterior. Here and there the inhabitants had attempted to personalize it with pictures and potted plants. Like all such installations and every ship of space, the place smelled of people and machinery forced into too close proximity.

Academician Vannick’s office was just one hatch out of many that lined the outer curve of the main equatorial passageway. It would have been indistinguishable from all the others save for the two Warwind marines who flanked it. The hatchway retracted into the bulkhead at their approach, and Tessa pulled herself hand over hand into the office beyond.

Vannick was cadaverously thin, with wisps of white hair that floated in microgravity like a small white explosion atop his head. He glanced up as the hatch opened and watched his captor make her way to the anchor frame in front of the desk. There was a look of barely controlled rage on his face.

“Are you the leader of this band of hooligans?” he demanded as she wrapped her legs through the anchor frame.

“I am Captain Tessa Hallowell, commanding Hegemonic Star Cruiser Warwind.

“You’re from the Hegemony of Stars?” Vannick asked, incredulous.

“I am and you, sir, are my prisoner.”

Tessa could see the astronomer’s expression change as he processed this new bit of information. The Hegemony had begun life as little more than a regional lobbying group, an association formed by the new, raw star systems at the fringes of human space to blunt the influence of the older, more civilized systems that clustered around ancient Sol. There had been talk of secession for generations. Lately the talk had turned serious. To find himself face to face with someone who claimed to represent the navy of a sovereign state told Vannick that the political situation was far worse than the news reports from New Rome indicated. The Communion of Humanity, with its capital at New Rome, had not had a competitor for almost two hundred years, not since the Antares Republic had submitted following a brief, bloody war in the 28th century, in fact.

“The Hegemony has seceded?”

“It is I who ask the questions here, Professor,” Tessa said coldly. Onboard her ship, such a response would have halted all protest instantly. Rather than quiet the astronomer, her rebuke only drove him to fury.

“Goddamn it, have you people seceded?”

Tessa frowned and made a conscious effort to hold her temper. In general, scientists did not respond well to authority and her greatest need was for a quick, orderly evacuation of the station. She made a quick calculation that she would complete her mission most expeditiously with the appearance of being reasonable. There would be plenty of time later for the professor and his people to learn who commanded.

“Not yet,” she answered with deceptive calm. “However, military action to bring about a situation where we can declare our independence is imminent.”

“You can’t! This is the worst possible time…” Vannick’s protest died in his throat. A new, horrible thought had occurred to him. “What are you people doing here?”

“My fleet will soon be in action against the Galactic Guard. I have been ordered to ensure that the gigi’s do not use this observatory against us.”

“How could they possibly do that?”

“With your sensors, you can track ship movements. That is a capability the guard will find most useful after the commencement of hostilities.”

Vannick’s response was a rude noise.

“Do you deny that your instrument detects warships?”

“No, of course not. Interference from ships moving ftl often corrupts our data. In fact, we do everything in our power not to detect your precious ships.”

“But you could if you wanted to?”

The senior astronomer nodded his head reluctantly. His wisps of hair moved as though alive in the air currents. “We could, of course. But the technique is not terribly useful. For one thing, with only a single instrument, we have no ability to triangulate observations. What good is it for me to watch your ship cross my field of view if I have no third dimension with which to pinpoint your location? Do you think the guard has enough ships to search every kilometer along a constantly changing position vector some ten thousand light-years long?”

“We are less concerned with the tactical utility of this observatory than its strategic implications in the long term. Up until now we have taken great care to mask the movement of our fleets in order to preserve the element of surprise. After the battle is joined we will no longer have that luxury. Our ships must return to their bases periodically for refit and resupply. Given time and sufficient observations, the guard will be able to pinpoint the location of our bases. We can’t risk that.”

The worlds of the Hegemony were well known to the Galactic Guard, and nearly defenseless against a determined space attack. likewise, the worlds that circle the central suns of human space were known to the Hegemonic Navy. What kept everyone safe was the ancient principle of “balance of terror.” So long as the rebels maintained a credible striking force able to revenge gigi terror raids, then Tessa Hallowell’s family on Askar would remain relatively safe.