Brad studied the Sandbox on the utility's view
screen.
"I think you'd better have a look," he said to
Kumiko as he twisted aside on the cramped flight
deck. She peered over his shoulder.
"Got a problem?" Scarf sneered, his bulk cramped
the remaining space behind the flitter's pilot
seat. He hunched forward trying to see around
Kumiko.
Brad ignored the question. He waited for Kumiko's
assessment of the Sandbox, dead ahead.
Drummer had given him the job.
"I want this done," he told Brad, "in a way that
will demonstrate to the UIPS that we're serious,
and can back our words with actions. We've got
to replace their image of us as misfits. They've
got to see us as an organized military force that
can defend its vital interests and, if necessary,
impose its will."
"What do you have in mind?"
"I want to use Kumiko's expertise as a weapons
officer familiar with Inner Region ordnance. I want
both of you to board the Sandbox and check all
installed armament that can be directed against
our fleet. Avoid a scrap, but if you find the guns
have not been deactivated, do it for them."
He pointed at Brad to give emphasis to his words.
"I don't want their weapons slipping back into
operational status as soon as you leave their ship.
Whatever it is you do, fix their armament controls
so that it'll take them at least fifteen hours to
get them back on line. We'll need that much time
to finish our job here and return to base."
Scarf joined them, listening.
"I don't like it." His words were angry; his
features petulant.
Drummer looked at Scarf with open scorn.
"Your likes and dislikes are the least of my
concerns," he snorted and turned back to Brad.
Scarf cut back in.
"I repeat, Drummer, I don't like it, and what I
like or don't like is your concern. I'm here on
counter-intelligence work, and I don't like your
sending this guy," thumbing toward Brad, "and
one of his sidekicks over to a UIPS ship on a highly
sensitive assignment. I'm not that trusting they'll
do the job as thoroughly as you're laying it out."
Drummer frowned.
"What do you suggest?"
"That I go along."
Brad stepped back to let the two work it out.
He didn't relish the assignment. The Sandbox's
commander was not going to accept boarders
graciously.
"You go along? What the hell for?"
"To see how the assignment is carried out, and
frankly, to make sure this guy doesn't, shall
we say, inadvertently pass information to
the enemy." After a brief pause, Scarf added,
"I'm within my authority, Drummer. Part of the
counter-intelligence function," adding, with a
smirk, "Don't you agree?"
##
The utility's approach to the cylindrical Sandbox
closed in on the port side. Brad, at the controls,
increased viewer magnification and inspected the
ship closely. Kumiko, looking at the same image,
reached under Brad's arm and adjusted knobs and
levers, zeroing in on one gun turret after another
along the Sandbox's length. She whistled softly.
"They're loaded for bear," she said. "Circle them,
Brad, let's see what's on the other side."
Brad took the utility around to starboard, then
topside and below.
Scarf again. "OK, you've looked her over. Now,
what's the problem?"
"The ship has four laser-quads and a couple of
explosive decompressors. She's a heavily armed
attack transport, that's all."
"So what? Can you do the job?"
Kumiko looked at Scarf, her normally soft features
twisted, passive but icy. "Oh, yes," she said.
"I can do it. May take a little time, though."
Scarf leaned back.
"Well, let's not fool around with these jokers. If
they don't cooperate, I'm for back to the Dragon
and let our guns talk for us."
"Listen, Scarf," Brad said, exasperated, "our job
is to disable the armament, not destroy the ship.
Also, if you recall, Drummer wants to get through
this exercise without using force. That's why we're
here: to fix the Sandbox so they and any other
ship commanders of like mind won't get ideas
about resisting us. It's a psychological play that will
make the rounds of the Outer as well as the Inner
Region. It's to our advantage to show we do our job
with minimum fuss. So, let's get on with it."
Brad opened the inter-ship comm-line.
"Calling Sandbox. This is Curtin on Dragon Utility
One, approaching from your starboard. Are you
prepared to receive us?"
"Ready," came back. "Your air lock is number 4,
starboard. Go there now. We will extend umbilical
and catwalk as soon as you're matched up."
Brad guided his craft around and along the Sandbox
to a portal bearing a large painted "4." Slowing
the utility, he closed with the Sandbox, gently
fingering controls until they were matched
precisely to the heavy transport's bearing and
drift.
"Now," he said.
Kumiko hit a switch, and the utility beam-anchor
connected to a triangular plate above the airlock,
immobilizing and fixing the utility to the huge
transporter's axis.
The number 4 clamshell panels drew back and
slipped aside. A yellow and white-striped catwalk
snaked out and suckled up to the utility's hatch.
Kumiko took in the overhead dials and lights.
"On track," she said, and after a moment,
"connected and secure."
Brad closed a bank of switches, opened another.
"We'll take no unnecessary chances," he said. "I'm
setting the thruster to cut in at twenty percent
as soon as we're back in and slam the hatch. Five
seconds and into forty, another three and we
go max. That's for just in case. So, if we need
to move fast when we board, hit the accello-nets
pronto. Got it?"
"Right," from Kumiko.
"Scarf?"
"Sure, sure. I got it."
"Next. I want 'em to be able to see that the power
settings on our sidearms are low enough so as
not to kill or cause serious injury. Is that clear?"
"If they start anything, I'd just as soon take a
few of them out for good." Scarf postured his
belligerence.
"Nothing doing, Scarf," Brad shot back. "Using
our weapons on this mission is bound to delay
the schedule, if not much worse. It's been fouled
up already by this little sortie. So don't provoke
'em; set your weapon in the lower levels."
Brad set his weapon at the extreme low setting
and noted that Kumiko did the same. Scarf set
his at the highest level in the non-lethal category,
and with a sneer at Brad, returned the weapon
to its sheath.
Kumiko looked thoughtful. "We should wear suits
while we're on board the Sandbox, Brad," she said.
"It may slow us down a bit, but we'll need to look
at gun emplacements that have minimal air or
none at all."
"Sounds reasonable. OK, keep your suits on."
They rigged their sidearms for control from within
their suits and transferred them to outer sheaths.
They donned the suits, checked each other's suit
security, seal pressure, inter-suit communications,
and reported.
"Move out," Brad said.