Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

She clung to the armrests of her chair, desperate to jump and salvage something of the situation. Once they were in hyper, they'd figure something out even if navigation and the chief were screaming like gelded Denubian rats that they didn't have enough fuel.
    They were conservative. She knew that. Mackey told her as much many times. They were low; she knew it. Very damn low, perhaps too low to risk it, but risk it she would. She had no intention of getting boarded and her prize taken from her. Not when they'd come so far, risked so much to get where they were.
    “D'angelo, tie the Ssilli in. See if Chief Faver's skip idea will work. Navigation, you and I will try to work on the calculations with the chief.”
    “Okay,” D'angelo said dubiously. The navigator nodded as well and got to work.
    :::{)(}:::
     
    Brrfrak was bored. He'd rested after breakout, now he wanted to do something. The time in the false ocean made him feel better, feel … alive. Better. It felt as if he had purpose. It kept him from thinking of his miserable existence and the death of Sputtersque.
    He'd feared the two-legs were going to eat her remains. Instead they'd cut portions off her then took them away. Then they'd frozen her tank somehow. He wasn't certain how; their technology was tantamount to magic to him.
    Now the two-leg with mammaries came and leaned over his tank. She and the other two-leg that cared for him attached the video feeds over his eyes. He held his head still to allow the procedure, not even wincing when they used Velcro on his eye stalks to keep the videos in place.
    When he opened his eyes, he was back in the virtual world. He deliberately turned off his sonar pinging to concentrate on the false world.
    The crew fed data to the Ssilli's computers. The computers interpreted the data from the various sensor feeds and presented the image of the chasing ships as virtual characters in the game engine they'd co-opted for the simulator.
    Brrfrak didn't know any of that. All he did know and see was other ships as other Ssilli. Instantly he felt the desire to talk, to attempt to communicate. Brrfrak steered the phantom Ssilli and therefore the ship to the other Ssilli, ignoring the sharp jabs and probes of electric shocks.
    :::{)(}:::
     
    “It's no use, Skipper; he threw us off course and refuses to commit to our intended course. I don't even know if we can get him to skip jump. I don't think they finished the software to try,” Kelsea reported.
    “Get to duty station two. The OMS is balking there. Get it fixed pronto. We'll figure something out on this end,” the skipper growled. “Angel's got the helm.”
    “On my way, ma'am.” Kelsea shook her head.
    :::{)(}:::
     
    “I don't know what the hell they are pulling. It's like someone is drunk at the helm. They are all over the place, sir,” R'll reported. “They are stabilizing now—on course for the ET jump point.”
    “Still nothing?” It had been a day, and the unknown ship hadn't replied to their hail. The Veraxin signaled the negative. “Then send it again. Maybe they've got an automated helm or something or they think we're pirates.”
    “Quite possible, sir.”
    “Let them know we're not. Send them our thumbnail history if you have to. But one way or another, they are heaving to and they will be inspected. We'll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”
    “Aye aye, sir.”
    :::{)(}:::
     
    The two-legs tried to stop him for a while; they prodded him with shocks but to no avail. The moment they stopped, Brrfrak's interest in the other beings took over all over again. It was instinct, it was a craving for some contact, it wasn't certain. Eventually he grew to ignore the pain, even when it grew in intensity and duration.
    Finally, the two-legs eventually were forced to cut the feed. Blind in the dark, he thrashed in the tank in discontent.
    :::{)(}:::
     
    “What the hell are they pulling?” Captain Levinson demanded. He indicated the lumbering freighter.