Starplex

“They are the right size for that,” said Jag.

“How many crew members aboard each?”

“Starships are not my field,” said Jag.

Keith looked at the Waldahud at life sciences. “You, there—Kreet, is it? How many people aboard such a ship?”

“Perhaps six,” said Kreet. “No more than that.”

Two of the four bridge doors opened simultaneously. Thorald Magnor walked in through one, and Rissa Cervantes came in through the other. The Ib and the Waldahud vacated the helm and life-sciences stations to make room for them.

“Eight ships are approaching Starplex,” said Keith, to Rissa and Thor.

Rissa nodded. “PHANTOM briefed us en route. But no additional ships should have come through the shortcut until we gave the okay.” She stood by her console, waiting for the chair to configure itself.

“Maybe they’re here by accident,” said Thor, tapping some keys on his console while his chair rose from beneath the deck. “When a new shortcut comes on-line, the acceptable approach angles to select a desired destination grow narrower. They could have been sloppy in their calculations. Maybe they meant to go somewhere else.”

“One pilot might make a mistake,” said Keith. “But eight?”

“The communications-lag time is up,” said Denna. “If they’d wanted to reply to your latest message, they could have done so by now.” Rhombus had entered a moment earlier, but was content to wheel up to a position next to the ExOps workstation without getting Denna to vacate.

“Thor, if I give the order to get out of here,” asked Keith, “can we escape those ships?”

Thor shrugged. “I doubt it. They’re blocking the shortcut, so we can’t go that way. And see those medial rings around their engine pods? Those are associated with Waldahud Gatob-class hyperdrives. Of course, no one can use a hyperdrive this close to the green star, but if we tried to get away, eventually we would be out in space that was flat enough for hyperdrives to be engaged, and then they’d be on us in a second.”

Keith frowned.

“The ships are fanning out,” said Thor. “I’d call it an attack formation.”

“Attack?” said Rhombus, lights strobing incredulously.

“Incoming message,” said Denna.

Another part of the sky hologram was blocked off by a glowing border. Inside it a Waldahud face appeared, framed by brown fur streaked with copper. “Lansing commanding Starplex,” said the translated voice, “I am Gawst. Mark that name well: Gawst.” Keith nodded; to a Waldahud male, credit was everything. “We have come to escort Starplex back through the shortcut. You will surrender—”

“How long for a reply to reach them?” asked Keith.

“—your ship to us.”

Denna consulted a readout. “Forty-three seconds.”

“Cooperate,” continued Gawst, “and no harm will come to your vessel or crew.”

“Thor, can we dive toward the shortcut apparently on one trajectory, but at the last moment change direction so that we’ll exit somewhere other than where they’d expect?”

The helm officer shook his head. “Those little scouts might pull it off, but Starplex’s volume is three million cubic meters. I can’t make it tap-dance.”

“How long until those ships reach us?”

“They’re moving at point-one-c,” said Thor. “They’ll be on us in less than twenty minutes.”

“Lansing to Gawst: Starplex is Commonwealth property. Request denied. Off. Rhombus, let me know when they’ve received that message.” Lianne Karendaughter strode onto the bridge. “I want some options, folks,” said Keith.

“Option number one,” said Lianne, taking her seat. “Retreat. The farther we are from the shortcut, the less likely they will be able to coerce us through it.”

“Right. Thor, let’s—”

“Forgive the interruption, Keith,” said Rhombus. “Your message has been received.”

“Good. Thor, let’s get out of here. Full thruster power.”

“I’ll take us away at an angle,” said Thor. “We don’t want to move into the dark-matter field. It’s an obstacle course, and small ships will be better able to handle it than we will.”

“Fine,” said Keith. “Rhombus, see if you can get a watson with today’s mission logs through to Tau Ceti. I want to alert Premier Kenyatta.”

“Doing so. But it will take over an hour to reach the shortcut from here, and—excuse me: incoming message from Gawst.”

“Lansing,” said Gawst, “Starplex was built at the Rehbollo shipyards and is of Rehbollo registry, and therefore is Waldahud property. Let us avoid as much unpleasantness as possible. Once the ship is returned to Rehbollo, we will release all crew members for immediate repatriation to their home systems.”

“Reply,” snapped Lansing. “Starplex’s construction was funded by all the Commonwealth worlds, and its registration is just a formality; all ships require a homeworld of record. Your claim is rejected. If necessary, this ship will defend itself against unlawful seizure. Off.”

“Defend itself?” said Thor, shaking his head. “Keith, this ship has no armament.”