Lyon's Pride (8 page)

Now it was Captain Osullivan's turn to drop his jaw and stare at her in amazement, tinged with a certain equally gratifying relief and delight.

“First, however, it will be necessary that the refugee ship be surreptitiously removed beyond the range of planetary missiles. Then it should be easy enough to tow it back to where the Great Sphere is being examined.” She grinned with wicked delight. “How much more we can learn from an intact vessel than a melted hulk.”

Osullivan's expression brightened considerably.

“Prime Rowan, it went severely against the grain to know that those Hivers would have four colony ships available to them.”

She chuckled, twisting the stem of her wine glass, her grey eyes sparkling at him over its rim.

“Soon there will be none. I'm delighted you find yourself in tune with this plan.”

“'Delighted' isn't strong enough but it will suffice,” Osullivan said. “I'm certain that Captain Quacho will concur. I assume,” and he hesitated, “that the
KTTS
will release the missiles to us.”

“The
KTTS
will insist on taking part as well, Captain. Their honor needs some restoration.”

“Shall we confer with Captain Quacho?”

“Of course,” said the Rowan, and Osullivan turned to his console to key in the signal.

*   *   *

Afra joined them sometime after the Rowan, having obtained Quacho's enthusiastic cooperation and Mrtgrts's agreement, had relayed the proposal to her husband, who put the matter before the two Alliance commanders. Captain Osullivan had ordered dinner and when Afra appeared, asked for service. First he poured Afra a glass of wine.

“My own special favorite, Mr. Lyon,” the captain said, hoping by his courtesy he managed to convey what he could not express to the Aurigaean T-2.

Afra tasted the wine with due solemnity and a little smile of appreciation.

“Rojer is all right?” the captain asked.

“He's asleep,” Afra replied, “with Flk and Trp to ease him with good dreams.”

“May I say how heavily this despicable incident rests on my mind?”

“You have in many ways, Captain,” Afra said solemnly, “and we have been aware of each, even if we have not properly thanked you for the depth of your concern. Rojer
will recover. He certainly bears you no rancor. Ah,” he said, changing the subject as stewards entered with steaming dishes, redolent with delectable aromas. “I hadn't realized how hungry I am.”

“You were very considerate to bring in those supplies or, I can assure you, my cook would have been hard put to present you a decent meal.”

“This is a feast,” the Rowan said, holding up her glass for more wine. “Where
does
this vintage come from?”

“You can't guess?” Afra asked in polite surprise.

“Then it has to be Capellan,” she said with a mild grimace. “It has always amused me that such a methody planet produces such fine vintages.”

*   *   *

The next morning Afra and Rojer left for Deneb where Rojer would undergo such ministrations as his great-grandmother, Isthia Raven, thought advisable to ease his mind. The large carrier also left with the 'Dini pairs needing hibernation and the four crew members whom the morale officer had ordered to take furloughs. The Rowan remained aboard the
Genesee.
She had not discussed the punitive proposal with Afra although she supposed he had picked up references to it from the captain—who was full of the prospect of some action—or any of the elated officers and crew. He said nothing beyond telling her that he would inform Rojer if he felt the knowledge would be therapeutic.

The Rowan also awaited the decision of the High Council, though she had some assurance from Jeff that there was little doubt the proposal would be accepted. It would salve the conservatives that the planet would be left unharmed and placate the militants that all space capability was destroyed.

The decision was affirmative but she would have to await
the arrival of Thian Lyon as FT&T replacement and an additional T-1 to assist in the seizure of the refugee ship. Even the Rowan had to admit that the sphere ship had too much mass for her to move, even with the assistance of more gestalt power than Callisto Station ordinarily provided.

If it makes you feel any better, my dear
, her husband informed her,
the T-2s replacing your good self at Callisto are working their balls off and desperately awaiting your return
.

Do 'em good
, the Rowan replied smugly.

Does you good, too, m'darling, to find that you cannot, after all, move mountains all by yourself
, Jeff teased her.

Ha! Who are you sending?

Let that be a surprise. It'll cheer you up, I know
.

He gave her a phantom hug and an enthusiastic kiss and a figurative pat on the head for the work she had cut out for herself but he didn't budge on the identity of the third T-1.

I suppose it's as well that Thian wasn't here when Prtglm had its brainstorm
, she said, knowing she couldn't tease the information out of him.

Prtglm would have gotten no more help from Thian than he did from Rojer. Less. Thian would have seen the missiles and immediately 'ported out of danger. Possibly even despatched Prtglm back to Clarf with a blistering note about exceeding orders
.

He'd've been exceeding
his
if he did
, the Rowan replied tartly.

Honey love, you can't have it both ways
.

I can
try!

*   *   *

Until Thian on Squadron A's 'Dini
KLTS
had reached a point where he could be 'ported to the
Genesee
, the Rowan busied herself reviewing the fascinating tapes Rojer had gathered by probe. Before, the Hivers had been
featureless creatures in a death-dealing sphere; now they were still featureless—as humans reckoned such matters—but the work ethos, the discipline, the minutiae of daily life in some of the orders of Hiver creatures, were depicted, and at least one of the worlds the Hivers had chosen to populate. The Rowan spent more time than she intended on such records. Then, resolutely, she planned how to destroy the planet's space-faring capability. The two half-finished ships would be easy to demolish, but the third ship was tightly sealed. Commander Yngocelen pointed out that the weapon ports would do nicely: there were sufficient of them to allow the Talents to penetrate into the ship and then a simple matter to 'port in sufficient explosives to disintegrate it.

Several conferences on the disposition of the refugee sphere decided that dispersing the lethal gas was not an urgent matter. Rojer had suffered no harm in his escape pod and another would handily accommodate the Rowan, Thian and the third T-1 while they surreptitiously eased the refugee ship out of its holding orbit and beyond the range of the ground batteries.

Permission was also given to destroy any pursuit vessels that the Hiver world might launch. The biggest they would have, according to all information the 'Dinis had amassed, would be surface-to-orbit shuttles. The scout vessels might be stored on the closed sphere and blown up along with the ship, but if they were available as deep space pursuit, the Squadron received permission to destroy them, too.

Assuming that there was, indeed, no intercolony communication, this Hiver world could not call for reinforcements which might follow the Squadron's ion trail. By the time a suitable deep-space vessel could be constructed on this world, any traces would have dissipated.

With plans and material in place, Thian's arrival was
keenly awaited. His grandmother thought he looked a trifle gaunt but she caught a remarkable energy exuding from him, once he recovered from a stunned surprise at finding her on board the
Genesee
.

“Where's Rojer then?” he asked, glancing about him, having looked forward to a reunion with his brother. His 'Dinis, Mur and Dip, were also looking about for they had been eager to see Gil and Kat. He was perplexed by the minute shock he read from his grandmother. An indefinable sadness darkened her eyes.

Then, with a nod of greeting to the 'Dinis, the Rowan unexpectedly hooked her arm in her tall grandson's and walked him from the cargo bay, Thian's Dinis following discreetly. As they moved slowly in the direction of the captain's ready room, she told him what had happened. She managed to time her report so that they were within the ready room by the time she had to relate the sacrifice Gil and Kat had made to protect Rojer from Prtglm. She soothed Thian with what mental easing she could while he held his grieving 'Dinis tightly against him. When they had regained some composure, she explained what action was now proposed. Thian had no reservations about what he obviously considered necessary destruction, only determination and an eagerness to assist her in any way possible. She was well pleased with a mental attitude that did not emanate any vengefulness or malicious delight; feelings which she had sensed in some officers and many crew members. She preferred to think of their coming actions as deterrent rather than vindictive.

Know that your father is not of a militant disposition
, the Rowan said, honor requiring her to mention the fact.

Dad won't find me a hardened militant for all my months on board a 'Dini ship but that would not be why
I find this course of action justifiable, Grandmother. Until we can communicate with the Hive species…

That
we'll never be able to do
, the Rowan said flatly.
I know!

But I understood that the captive queen…

Is understood at only a very basic level and on the one or two occasions when a Human has been in her presence, the visitor has been totally ignored, as if the Human didn't exist. I'm beginning to think that they don't recognize any species but their own
.

Thian gave a wry grin.
You sure do hate 'em, don't you, Grandmother
.

No, Thian, I wouldn't waste such a powerful emotion on
them.
At the same time, I will
not
tolerate any depredations when I can prevent them. That's the distinction which I don't think your father is willing to appreciate. No matter. By the way, did your grandfather mention the identity of the third Prime?

No
, and Thian grinned down at his diminutive grandmother, looking more like a slender young girl in the lavender shipsuit she was wearing.
He likes his little surprises, doesn't he?
When
he can pull them on you
.

The Rowan scowled and then had to break into a laugh because Thian was enough like his father to ignore what Afra had always called her fits and starts.

“Rowan, ma'am,” the ship's com system began, “please return to the cargo bay for an incoming personnel carrier.”

“Damn,” the Rowan said, spinning on her heel to retrace her steps, “he could have warned me.”

“I'd say he wanted to give you time to brief me, Grandmother,” Thian said, not at all put out.

“Do you have to stick up for him?” she asked irritably.

“As grandfather or Prime?” Thian asked, but he had a sense of eager anticipation. His grandfather was subtly
providing a diversion from what had been a large dollop of bad news.

“Never mind,” she said and walked all the faster back to the cargo bay.

They had reached the facility just as the generators lifted briefly and then a shiny new single carrier landed smoothly on the cradle. The ensign on duty shot a glance at the Rowan and Thian, but she nodded for him to lift the hatch.

Oh, am I late, Callisto Prime?
was the quick concern of a feminine mind, touching them both.

Thian narrowed his eyes down at his grandmother, who was genuinely surprised.
He'd mentioned her to me several times but certainly not for
this, the Rowan added before stepping forward to greet the girl nimbly leaving the capsule. She smiled graciously at Ensign Tollert who had offered her assistance.

“T-1 Flavia of Altair requests permission to board.”

“Permission granted,” Tollert replied, grinning broadly.

“A pleasure to meet you, Flavia,” the Rowan said, stepping forward in turn to touch fingers briefly with the girl.
Don't gawk, Thian
, she added tightly.

He took two long strides forward as if he had merely given his grandmother precedence. In fact, he had been nearly as stunned as Tollert. Flavia wasn't beautiful in a classical way, not as Laria or some of his cousins were, but she had large and startlingly vivid green eyes and long straight blonde hair which she wore simply pulled back by green combs from her oval face. Standing next to the too-slender Rowan, she appeared well-fleshed and her pale green shipsuit emphasized a very womanly body.

“Thian of Aurigae,” he said, exerting control not to touch her fingers longer than Talent protocol dictated. Mint/green/rose was her touch.

“I believe Jeff said you are the grandchild of Bastian
and Maharanjani,” the Rowan said. “I worked with them, Thian, in the Tower on Altair.”

Flavia nodded briefly with a becomingly reserved smile.

“The duty has been explained to you?”

She nodded again. “It is an honor to work with Callisto Prime for any reason.”

“Humph,” the Rowan said.

Tollert cleared his throat loudly. “Ma'am, the conference is waiting on the Primes.”

“You have a carisak, Flavia?” the Rowan asked and when the girl nodded, Tollert cleared his throat again.

“I'll take care of that, ma'am. Prime Flavia's quarters are next to yours.”

“Hmm, that's as well,” the Rowan remarked obliquely. “We shouldn't keep this conference waiting any longer than necessary.”
We'll 'port once we reach the corridor
, she added and led the way.

“How are your 'Dinis called, Prime Thian?”