'What the hell has he got us into now? she asked herself, deciding immediately that something must have gone terribly wrong. She activated the data-slates surrounding her command throne, a dozen and more screens lowering from the shadows above. The screens sputtered to life, the Fairlight's cogitator banks pumping reams upon reams of data across them. With practiced ease, she separated out the superfluous information, homing in on that which she needed.

The Oceanid and the Rosetta, her father's vessel closing fast on her stepbrother's, which appeared at anchor. One hundred and ten kilometres from their position, two fleets. One human, Luneberg's, she knew, and one not. She smiled.

Reaching up to adjust the data-slates' settings, Brielle homed in on the other two rogue trader vessels, picking up a signal from-

'Brielle? The communication grilles set in the back of her command throne burst into life, causing her to jump in shock. She spat a spacer's curse, before answering sweetly.

'Father, this is Brielle, what's happening? Are you alright?

'Yes, Brielle, now listen, as I won't repeat myself. He wasted no time in pleasantries, she thought, typical of him to get straight to the point. 'Rosetta and Fairlight are to converge on my position and follow my orders to the letter. You will not deviate from the course I give you, and you will not fire upon any targets until I order you to do so. Do I make myself completely clear?

For a moment, Brielle was speechless. What the hell was his problem? 'Father. she replied. 'I am perfectly-

'Do I make myself completely clear? her father repeated, his tone angry and brooking no argument.

'Completely. she said, slamming her fist down on the console and closing the channel. How the hell could he speak to her like that? Who the hell did he think she was? Had Korvane poisoned him against her to such an extent that this was how it would be from here on out?

Well, she thought, her stepbrother had had his day. She'd already seen to that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lucian stood in the centre of his bridge, studying the flickering image projected into the air by the holograph. The green globe was incomplete, almost half of the space invisible to him thanks to a damaged near-space augur array. Three groups of icons dominated the remainder, the one representing the Oceanid sitting dead centre, the movements of the others relayed relative to her position.

Some one hundred kilometres to the Oceanid's fore, two of the groups of icons danced, reams of data scrolling next to each. The larger of the groups represented the alien vessels, and there were five of these. Lucian noted, with a professional's appreciation, the formation that the alien ships had assumed, their weapons' fields of fire overlapping in such a manner as to make approach from any angle other than directly to stern all but suicidal.

In contrast to the aliens' deployment, the other group displayed only disarray. Lucian sneered as he regarded its arrangement, one cruiser and a dozen or so smaller escorts clustered around the vessel that he knew to be Imperial Commander Culpepper Luneberg's flagship. It was typical of the man's flawed character that he should deny his captains the benefit of a mutually supportive fire plan, instead concentrating solely on his own protection. He sought to destroy his enemy, the forces of the Imperial Commander Zachary Droon, but was evidently determined to minimise any risk to his own, personal safety. Well, thought Lucian, space battles were no respecters of safety, personal or otherwise.

The alien fleet and that of Imperial Commander Luneberg were currently engaged in the opening moves of what Lucian was quite sure would prove to be the last battle for one of them. Luneberg's forces had sought to engage their foe, but had been evaded now on several passes. The aliens would fight, of that Lucian was certain, but they had been hurt by his own broadsides, and would do so only on their own terms. The ballet continued: the humans unable to close on their target, and the aliens thus far unwilling to be closed upon.

The last group of icons visible in the holograph's globe of light represented his own, small flotilla. The Oceanid was a capable heavy cruiser, despite the damage she had suffered in recent engagements. Ten kilometres to the Oceanid's port side lay the Rosetta, the cruiser captained by Lucian's son, Korvane, who, only minutes before, had returned by shuttle from the surface of the world below. Inbound on their position, a mere fifteen kilometres distant, was the third and last of Lucian's fleet, the cruiser, Fairlight, captained by his daughter, Brielle.

Lucian folded his arms as he considered his position, prowling around the holograph, seeking to examine the situation, literally, from every possible angle. He had been pitched into this battle by the actions of his son, who had negotiated an alliance with Imperial Commander Zachary Droon. The only problem was, he had destroyed one of the aliens' vessels and crippled another before his son had informed him that these aliens were, by dint of the agreement brokered by his son, allies. The life of a rogue trader was never a simple one.

'Fairlight. Lucian said, the servitor at the Oceanid's communications station patching him through to the bridge of his daughter's ship.

'Go ahead, Father' came the response. Lucian noted instantly that his daughter sounded even more uptight than normal. He had no time to worry about her state of mind however.

'Rosetta. The servitor opened the channel to the bridge of Korvane's ship.

Lucian reached down to the console at the base of the holograph and depressed a control stud. 'I am transmitting the approach plan to you both. You will note your positions within that plan. Do you receive and understand?

He waited, affording his son and his daughter the time to relay the headings to their respective helmsmen. A minute later, his son was the first to respond.

'Understood, Father' Lucian was pleased to note that his son offered no further response. Perhaps he was suitably chastised following their earlier confrontation on the subject of Korvane's negotiating the alliance with Droon in his father's absence.

He waited a minute more, before asking, 'Brielle? Are you clear as to your role?

'I am clear, Father' came the response, after a delay that Lucian knew was calculated to communicate Bridle's displeasure.

Just like her mother, he thought, allowing himself a wry grin at his daughter's wilful behaviour.

'Well enough' he said. 'You both have your orders. Good hunting, and good luck.

'Good hunting. Korvane echoed, followed a moment later by his stepsister. Lucian took his seat at the command throne, taking a deep breath before issuing his order, 'Helm, time to get under way'

'Aye, sir' responded Helmsman Raldi, saluting his captain before turning and leaning his weight to the mighty wheel.

Lucian looked to the holograph, seeing that his son's vessel was manoeuvring into her allotted position. A couple of minutes later and the Rosetta was in position. He watched the Fairlight, his studied eye seeing instantly, and without recourse to his instruments that his daughter's ship was out of station by at least a kilometre.

He sighed. 'Brielle' he said, the communications servitor patching him through the ship-to-ship array instantaneously. 'Go ahead' the clipped reply came back. 'Brielle, you're out of position. Close up on the Rosetta, now'

A delay was followed by, "Yes, Father, I will. I'm simply picking up some flare. I can ride it out, but I don't want to risk the compensators, not now'

Lucian sighed for a second time. He had never been able to tell for sure whether his daughter was simply being evasive or whether she was outright lying. Another characteristic she had inherited from her mother and her people. It certainly wasn't passed down from his own side of the family.