The next hour passed in a blur of activity for Kressa as Commander Vel and her allies worked to convince the Patrol fleet of a rebel uprising completely contrary to reality, and created such confusion and chaos that few of the enemy ships’ commanders or crews had time to stop and wonder what was really happening.

  Kressa worked with Connie to help Vel retake control of the fleet. The commander sent several ships into harmless parking orbits and disabled them using command-level overrides put in place by paranoid Patrol engineers to foil mutineers. A few ships in the fleet had commanders sympathetic to the Vsunans’ cause; they readily joined Vel’s side in the battle. Others had enough vital crew members loyal to Vel to bring the ships to the Vsunans’ side. However, a number of ship commanders caught on early to the fact that something was amiss and disconnected their ships from the fleet channel before the links could be secured, thereby removing any chance Vel had of controlling them.

  As the Esora forces continued to work, pitting Patrol vessels—sometimes unwittingly—against other Patrol vessels and coordinating ground attacks and defenses across the planet’s surface, Kressa again found herself marveling at the depth and complexity of the plan.

  Early in the battle, the trauma team arrived from sickbay. They headed straight for their wounded captain but moved without question to tend Dahl and Telsin at a word from Vel. Whether they were loyal to Vel, knew how to take orders, or were simply doing their jobs as medics by tending to the most seriously wounded first, Kressa did not know, and she had no time to ponder it, for the medical team forced Telsin to abandon his post, leaving her alone to handle the job of holding the reroutes. Fortunately, the need for her to do so decreased steadily as the rebels’ control of the battle increased, giving Kressa more time to dedicate to relaying Vel’s requests to Connie.

  Then, suddenly, the link with Connie went dead.

  “Commander, we just lost our tie to the Conquest’s computer,” the comm officer reported before Kressa could. “Something’s jamming the signal.”

  “Sensors, what’s happening over Tranur?” Vel asked.

  “Enemy vessel Emant is moving toward the city. Our destroyers Maj and ta’Shen are within range.”

  Kressa frowned worriedly. The Emant was one of the Patrol cruisers whose captain had disconnected his ship from the fleet command channel. They must have picked up and traced the link between Connie and the Cheops.

  Vel studied the tactical display beside the bridge’s main viewer. “Order the Maj and ta’Shen to intercept Emant, and have any of our fighters within range move in, as well. Try to knock out the jamming, and don’t let the Emant target the Conquest.” She glanced at Kressa. “We’ll do what we can to take care of your ship, Bryant.”

  Kressa nodded and tried to ignore the horror—and irony— of the fact that Patrol vessels were being sent to protect her ship from other Patrol vessels, and there was nothing she could do to help. Connie would activate the Conquest’s shields the instant she detected the ship was under attack, but Kressa knew they wouldn't last long under direct heavy weapons fire from a Patrol cruiser.

  The Emant began to fire on the port from long range. Many of the cruiser’s first shots were off target, with some of them hitting parts of the nearby city.

  Kressa listened to the reports of damage to the city and, for the first time, the cost of the rebellion to Vsuna’s populace struck her. A lot of innocent lives would be lost because of the decisions of very few people. Would those innocents, and the friends and families they left behind, consider freedom from the United Galaxy worth it?

  An alert on Kressa’s board jerked her attention away from her disturbing thoughts. “Commander, several of the ships disabled by the fleet computer are trying to break their links.” She started working to try to hold them, but without Connie’s help, Kressa knew she had little chance of success.

  “The Emant’s retreating from the Tranur area,” the rebel manning the sensors said. “Minor damage reported to the port. One fighter down.” He paused. “The Emant’s heading for our position now.”

  “Decided to come straight to the source, have they?” Vel said. “Comm, tell our ships near Tranur to remain there to defend against any more threats to the Conquest.”

  “We’ve got two more ships breaking from their assigned positions and heading our way,” the sensor operator said a heartbeat later.

  Vel sighed. “Sounds like Emant’s trying to lead a rebellion of its own—against us. Comm, warn those ships back into position.”

  “They’re not responding to my calls.”

  “As if that’s any surprise,” Vel said. “Bryant, are you holding those links?”

  “So far.”

  “I’ve reestablished contact with the Conquest,” the comm officer said. “Routing it to you now, Bryant.”

  Kressa had just enough time to draw a single relieved breath before Vel called her again.

  “Bryant, see what you can do about getting me fire control on one of the disabled ships, preferably the Dora or Jassar.”

  Kressa relayed the request to Connie and glanced at the tactical display. Three enemy vessels were converging on the Cheops from different directions, but in the three-dimensionality of space, she was far from surrounded.

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  “Helm,” Vel said, “plot a course away from the incoming vessels that will take us within range of either the Dora or the Jassar. And make it quick, I want those incoming vessels to have to chase us.”

  “Course plotted,” the navigator said a moment later. “On the display. We’ll cross within range of both vessels.”

  Kressa realized Vel planned to lure the ships pursuing the Cheops into range of the disabled vessels’ guns. She turned back to her board, determined to get control of both the Dora and the Jassar. Moments later, she and Connie established the necessary links.

  “Commander,” Kressa said, “I’ve got command of the weapon control systems on both ships. I can route it anywhere you’d like.”

  “Send it to the weapons station,” Vel said.

  Hartos had returned to the station to direct the Cheops’ offensive batteries once the sickbay personnel arrived to tend to Dahl and Telsin.

  Vel glanced at him. “Can you handle fire control for two more ships?”

  Hartos gestured for one of the renegade Patrolmen to join him. “Just get ’em within range, Commander. We’ll do the rest.”

  “We’ve got two more ships coming our way,” the sensor operator said.

  “Friendlies?” Vel asked with a hopeful rise to her voice.

  “I’m afraid not, Commander.”

  “See if you can find a couple of our ships that aren’t too busy. Tell them to get out here. I think we’re going to need some help.”

  “The Emant will enter firing range in thirty seconds,” the sensor operator reported.

  “Kressa,” Connie’s voice drew Kressa’s attention back to her board, “are you in danger?”

  Kressa bit back a slightly hysterical laugh. “Connie, we’ve got five enemy vessels closing on us. I think you could say we’re in a bit of danger.”

  “Accessing tactical data,” Connie replied. “Stand by.”

  Stand by? “Connie, what—?”

  A concussion rocked the Cheops.

  “That was internal!” Vel said. “Damage control, where’d that come from?”

  “Missile bay one. One of the missiles detonated in its launch tube.”

  Vel scowled. “Security, send people to the missile bays. It looks like we’ve got saboteurs.” She switched channels on her comm. “Nait, cut power to all missile bays. Hartos, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do without them.”

  Kressa looked at the tactical display.

  The Cheops continued to run from the pursuing vessels. Two of them drew within firing range, joined a moment later by the Emant. The energy from their pulse cannons pounded against the Cheops’ shields.

  Hartos returned fire, concentrating on the Emant. A moment later, all three of the ships launched missiles, forcing him to turn many of the Cheops’ weapons toward the projectiles. Several of them got through the covering fire. The Cheops shuddered, and damage lights began winking throughout the room.

  “Comm, we need some help out here,” Vel said.

  “Two of our ships are on their way, Commander, but they won’t be in range for several minutes.”

  “We may not have several minutes. Sensors, time to the Dora or Jassar?”

  “The Emant will be in range of the Jassar in twenty seconds.”

  “Hartos?” Vel called.

  “We’re ready, Commander.”

  The seconds ticked by as the Cheops led a running firefight closer to the apparently dormant destroyer Jassar.

  Kressa smiled grimly to herself, imagining the surprise of the attacking ships’ crews when the supposedly inactive destroyer started shooting at them.

  And then, suddenly, inexplicably, as if someone had thrown a switch, the Emant and the other attacking vessels stopped firing.

  “Commander!” the sensor officer called. “All weapons systems on the five pursuing vessels just shut down.”

  “What?!” Vel’s surprised expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Hartos, hit each of those vessels with a single warning shot and order them to stand down.”

  “Kressa,” Connie said, “are you out of danger now?”

  “Yeah, I think we’re going to be all right,” Kressa said. “The attacking vessels…” Her voice trailed off as the significance of Connie’s question, and the timing of it, worked its way through the profound relief she was feeling at their sudden change of luck. “Connie, what in hell did you do?”

  “I shut down the weapons systems on the vessels pursuing the Cheops.”

  “How?”

  “The fleet computer contains shutdown codes for all vessels.”

  “I know that, but those ships aren’t connected to the fleet computer,” Kressa said. “How did you give them the command?”

  “Via a standard comm subchannel.”

  “That would work.” Vel stepped up beside Kressa. “A program sent through a subchannel with the proper codes could work its way into a control node and trigger a shutdown. It would have to be a damned impressive bit of programming, though. Even the old man would have trouble putting together something like that.”

  “Thank you,” Connie said.

  “Connie, you created the program?” Kressa asked.

  “I did. Based on my analysis of Dahl’s programs and the Cheops’ systems, and assuming the other vessels had similar systems, I was able to create the routine.”

  “Commander,” Hartos said, “the pursuing vessels are standing down. Orders?”

  “Tell them to link into the fleet computer and stand by.” She turned back to Kressa’s board. “Compu— Connie, you can use your program to disable the weapons on any vessel in the fleet, right?”

  “Correct. Shutdown codes for all vessels are available.”

  “Praise the paranoia of Patrol engineers,” Vel said, and then smiled at Kressa. “That’s one hell of a computer you’ve got there, kiddo. It may have just won us this war.”