Final Assault Read Online Free PDF Page B

how," said the muffled voice, "but you got S'Ti and M'Tra—so you'll go slow, from the bottom up."
    She twisted the M59A's muzzle, converting the device from a weapon to a precision cutting torch.
    "Who hired you?" said L'Wrona as the Tugayee aimed the weapon at his groin.
    Before she could do or say anything, the captain's blaster appeared around the corner of an instrument cluster and blew the top half of the assassin's head away, returning to his grip as she fell.
    The heraldic device in the grips blinked twice—all clear—then, after a brief pause, the trigger guard closed.
    L'Wrona took a deep breath and looked up. The storm was gone, the air smelled sweet and new and he could see the stars. Turning, he walked quickly to the lift.
    4
    Two small specks of brightness against a great black sphere, Repulse and Dawn matched speed with the AI battleglobe, maintaining position between it and Terra.
    "Big," said Captain P'Qal, looking at the image of the battleglobe filling his main screen.
    "Big?" said S'Tat, looking at the captain. "It's a monster! Give me ten of those things and I'll break through Line and storm K'Ronar."
    "Why hasn't it fired yet?" said Captain S'Yatan, face small but distinct in P'Qal's commscreen.
    "Maybe they don't have anything small enough to stop us with," said P'Qal wryly.
    "Let's play this out, Number One," he continued, turning to the first officer. "By the book. Challenge and stand by all weapons."
    S'Tat nodded and turned to her console. "Confederation cruiser Repulse to unknown vessel. Identify and prepare to be boarded."
    Silence, then a burst of static as the main screen flickered. The image of the battleglobe vanished, replaced by that of a smiling young man in brown K'Ronarin duty uniform, commander's pips on his collar. "You did say board, Commander?"
    "Identify," said S'Tat tightly.
    The man shrugged. "Sure. Commander T'Lei K'Raoda, attached AI battleglobe Devastator under the command of Colonel R'Gal, K'Ronarin Fleet Counterintelligence Corps, with other indigenous personnel as prize crew."
    P'Qal was out of the command chair, staring incredulously at the screen. "You're telling us you took that mother, Commander? Captured that thing?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "And your previous ship?" said the captain.
    "L'Aal-class cruiser Implacable under Captain His Excellency H'Nar L'Wrona."
    P'Qal sat back down. "What the seven hells is going on here, K'Raoda? Implacable'^ corsair-listed—shoot-without-challenge. And where's your commodore, D'Trelna, who now owes me 432,581 credits, including accrued interest, from a b'kana game on S'Htar?"
    "You know the commodore, sir?" said K'Raoda.
    P'Qal nodded. "Shipped together as merchanteers for a few years. And we were in the same reserve unit on S'Htar, before the war."
    "What about our skipcomm relay?" said S'Tat. "Taking a little target practice with your new toy?"
    "We thought it best to talk with you before you sounded invasion alert," said K'Raoda. "Both the AIs and Fleet are after us."
    "We are Fleet," grumbled P'Qal.
    "I know, sir. Please come aboard." K'Raoda glanced offscan. "Vector in on homer frequency AAlRed. You can land on n-gravs right next to the operations tower."
    "We'll be logging that as a boarding, of course," said P'Qal.
    "Of course, sir," said K'Raoda. "You'll be just in time for dinner."
    S'Rel spoke into his communicator. "R'Gal is on board?"
    "In command," said the voice. "It's a battleglobe, all right— Devastator —Binor's flagship."
    "His no longer, it seems," said S'Rel. "Get us a shuttle up there. Now. I'm at CIA headquarters. Have New York clear it through Washington—set down on the roof. And bring everyone in our unit. I think we may be going home."
    Pocketing his communicator, S'Rel turned to find Sutherland staring at him across the desk. "Just what are you, S'Rel?" said the CIA director quietly, fingertips templed before his chin. "AI battleglobes have been seen only once in this galactic epoch—a mercifully brief