“You didn’t know they’d left?”

“I knew,” she said. “They’re coming back.”

“I doubt it,” Lucas said. “They’ve probably stripped the cargo off our ships and made off with it, damned pirates that they are.”

“They’re coming back,” Ky said. She wished she was entirely sure.

“You don’t know that!” Kristoffson interrupted. “You can’t possibly be sure! You have an obligation to take care of us—moral and legal, under the Code. They aren’t here; they don’t have a gun pointed at you; you have no excuse for holding us against our will.”

That might be true, technically, but Ky was not going to give in to Kristoffson. “You’re passengers in a time of war,” she said. “It’s your duty—”

“Oh, stuff some figs!” Lucas said. In the corner of the screen, Paison’s mouth quirked. “It’s not a war if one of the armies runs away…”

“And just how did you know the mercenaries had left?” Ky asked.

They looked at each other first, then back at the vid pickup. “It’s our… er… implants,” said Jemin. He was not the one Ky expected to answer. Kristoffson glared at him, but Jemin didn’t wilt. “We could pick up signals…”

If they could pick up scan signals, or communications signals, on their implants… they might be able to contact ships without her knowledge. Ky shivered, and hoped it hadn’t shown.

“I can’t get you out of the system,” she said firmly. “Our FTL drive isn’t working. As for returning you to your ships, I don’t have enough fuel for the insystem drive to do that.” She did have enough to get them to Prime, but that did not fulfill her contract. Nor was Prime safe.

Their voices clashed: disbelief, anger, determination to override her. Ky tapped the mike, and they quieted. “Believe it or not, as you choose,” she said. “But the fact is, I’m not jumping you out of this system because I can’t. And I’m not wasting what insystem fuel I have running around trying to take you all back to your ships. We’re just going to ride this out for the next five or six days until the mercs come back.”

“You’re scared,” Kristoffson said. His voice dripped scorn. “You’re just too young, and too scared, to understand that this is our one opportunity… Whatever happens now, Vatta, it’s your fault.”

The vid clicked off, from their end. Ky stared at the blank screen thoughtfully, then called Gary Tobai and explained the situation. “I don’t know the range and capabilities of their implants,” she said finally. “But we must—somehow—secure the ship’s control systems.”

“Right,” he said. He sounded tired and grim both. “Quincy’s got all the engineering personnel on six-on, six-off; we’re doing our best, but—you know, from inside those cargo holds, they don’t have far to go to access the linkages with hardware, and that doesn’t even address wireless attacks from their implants.”

“Yeah, I know. Do your best—and I know you already are.” Ky signed off, yawning. She’d had little enough sleep herself, in the past several days, and now she would get less. She should take a nap now, because whatever the other captains thought they would do, they probably wouldn’t do it yet… she hoped.

That nap turned into several hours of deep sleep, from which she awoke to a faint vibration… the insystem drive. She surged out of her bed, yanking on her uniform, even as the alarm sounded in her cabin.

“Captain!”

“I’m awake—coming—” In the passage, Li and Garlan, both looking scared, stared at her. “Get Hospedin,” Ky snapped. “Drive’s on. I want it off.”

On the bridge, Riel and Sheryl were busy at their boards. “Drive just came on, Captain,” Riel said over his shoulder. “Full boost. I can’t get it off.”

“And I can’t get anywhere with the nav board,” Sheryl said.

“I told Li to get Hospedin,” Ky said. “He’s a drives man; maybe he can get it off.”

“What do you think—”

“They got control somehow,” Ky said. “Got into the ship’s systems—probably one of the places Gary and Quincy were worried about.” And if they had control of the drives and navigation controls, they also could unlock the cargo holds… they could be anywhere on the ship. She flicked on the monitors that should show the holds. One was blank, not even flickering; the other showed a hold mostly empty, with a clot of bodies crowding the hatch to the maintenance passage.

“Mehar,” Ky said into the intercom. “To the bridge on the double. Bring the stuff. Off-duty crew, to the bridge.” How had she been stupid enough not to keep one of the pistol bows in her cabin? Was it the injury or something else, that she kept missing things?

“Here, Captain…” Mehar, breathless, held out the bow Ky had practiced with and kept the other. Ky looked; Mehar had already loaded the magazine with the broadpoints.

“They’re in the maintenance passage,” Ky said. “I can’t see anything in the monitor for number two. But they’ve got the hatch open from number one. I’m sure they’re headed for the bridge… Ah, Quincy. There’s not much chance—” Any, actually, but it was worth trying. “—that we can reach the mercenaries now, but send a message—let someone know we’ve got a problem. Everyone else, defend the bridge. They can’t come at you all at once.”

She had to go. She had to get down the passage before they got to the branch, where they could split up and come at her from more than one direction. “Garlan, Beeah—come with Mehar and me.” Down past the galley, locking the galley hatch after Garlan and Beeah had acquired cutlery, closing and locking the rec area’s secondary hatch.

She heard them before she saw them, thanks to the curvature of the passage. Shuffling feet, muttering voices. Her heart pounded; she could feel the surge of excitement through her body as she had before hand-to-hand competitions at the Academy.

And there they were. Five meters away, maybe four… she expected Kristoffson, and he was there… behind Paison and Paison’s mate, who had a prisoner… a hostage.

Gary Tobai, his arms twisted behind him, the mate’s arm around Gary’s neck with a small but wicked knife laid to it.

Surprise stopped her so fast that Garlan bumped into her from behind. Paison? He grinned at her surprise, clearly delighted.

“It’s time to let more experienced officers take over,” he said in the same pleasant baritone, reasonable and smooth as chocolate custard.

“You…” Ky heard herself say. She clamped her jaw once more.

He shook his head. “You’re too young, my dear. Too easy… Jake and I knew exactly how to handle you. He can’t do fatherly…” Kristoffson grumbled something, and Paison shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We have control of the drives, of the navigation settings, your communications…”

She was aware of everything… the shine of their eyeballs, the sound of their breathing, the slight increased warmth from so many bodies jammed so close into the passage, the smell of their excitement. Paison, Paison’s mate, Kristoffson… not the other captains… no, there was Opunts, toward the back, looking just as expressionless as ever. Her gaze came back to those in front, and for the first time she met Gary Tobai’s eyes… gray, slightly faded… his expression strained. His mouth moved…

“Let him go,” Ky said.

“Hand us your captain’s wands,” Paison said. “Then we’ll see. You’re just bluffing—you don’t have the experience to handle this.”

Paison’s mate had Gary for a shield. Paison’s mate had a knife to Gary’s throat, Gary’s own little black folding knife.

Back at the Academy, they’d all seen the famous list of standard things not to do in a crisis, taken from entertainment vids in which the plot depended on both hero and villain doing something stupid. Going out alone in the dark on a sudden hunch… walking into the dark alley instead of waiting for backup… dropping his weapon because his sidekick/sweetheart/child/parent was held by the bad guys who threatened the death of the hostage.

It had seemed so obvious then, when “sucks to be you” meant the screen death of an actor, the death of a character in a book. So obvious that the sidekick who said “Go on!” or “Run!” or “Never mind me!” was also a hero, and the Hero with the capital H should acknowledge that and blow the bad guys away even if his friend/lover/child/parent died. Not waste the sacrifice.