There was a long pause.  Then West reported again:

    “We’re going to use a short thrust burn to get away from the
asteroid.  It’ll make it safer if we’re detected, because we won’t
have to fly so close to the rock.”

    There was no way to answer.  Astrid knew that a two way
communications system might have been more easily detected. 
Besides, there was nothing worthwhile to say at the time.  Astrid
hoped she wouldn’t have to say anything, for fear of blowing the
Marines’ cover.  She did not believe anybody else was anywhere
in range, until a message crackled over the radio.  It was not from
any of the Marines.

    “Ten seven in sector five,” an unfamiliar voice reported. 
Somebody else was using the exact same frequency!  Immediately,
Astrid was burning with fear.  How could she warn her Marines
not to use that channel?

    “Do you want a seven one?” another voice asked.

    “Roger that seven one,” the first voice said.

    “All right, what’s your reading?”

    “Twelve at nine, mark two,” the first voice said.

    “It’s a code,” Astrid said.

    “Can you tell what it’s saying?” Lura’aknul said.

    “No.  Most Spacers use shorthand, but this must be NeoTerra’s
own brand,” Astrid said.

    “They must not want anybody to know what they’re up to,”
MacHaley said.  Astrid agreed.

    “Your seven one is open.  Repeat, your seven one is open.”

    “Five two,” the first voice said.

    “Five two,” the second voice said, “Roger that five two.  You
are cleared.”

    “You don’t think they spotted us, do you?” MacHaley asked.

    “I don’t know what to think,” Astrid said.  “But it sounds like
something happened, and the ship radioed back for help.  Then,
the ‘seven one’ code was a verification of something.”

    “Then what was the ‘five two’ code for?”

    “Permission to do something.  The person at the base said ‘you
are cleared,’ after verifying the ‘seven one’ code,” Lura’aknul said.

    “For all we know, that ‘ten seven’ code meant that they found
us,” MacHaley said.

    “We covered our tracks,” Astrid said.  She hoped she had
sounded reassuring when she said it, because she certainly didn’t
feel reassured.  “Besides, we’ve only been here for ten minutes,”
Astrid added, somewhat more confidently after glancing at the
chronometer.
 

    Aboard the S.S. Neptune, the atmosphere was different. 
Captain Wilde waited for the verification he needed.  It had been
strange to detect a hyperspatial field this far into the NeoTerran
system.  After all, it was easier on ships and their crews to
decelerate into the outer edge of a solar system and then approach
the inner planets at a slower velocity.  Whoever had come in so
quickly must have been trying not to be detected.

    “Sir,” Shepherd reported, “NeoTerra has cleared our five two. 
Repeat, NeoTerra has cleared our five two.”

    “Sound condition red, and prepare the boarding crews.  The
people on that ship must be from the Union.”

    “Spies, sir?”

    “Whatever they are, they think they can simply step across our
borders whenever they feel like it.  We will convince them that this
one incursion is the exception rather than the rule.”

    The ship’s lights flashed red, and alarms sounded.

    “The boarding teams are prepared,” Shepherd reported, “and
they’re standing by in the teleporter rooms.”

    “Sir,” Ensign Mora reported, “sensors show smaller vessels in
the vicinity.  Each of them appears to be carrying only one
person.”
 

    “Everyone, pull back!” Astrid heard over the radio.  It was
LeRoy West.

    “We’re movin’ sir,” a Marine answered.

    “Lura’aknul, power the ship up!” MacHaley said.  Astrid was
already warming up the engines and turning on the sensors. 
MacHaley turned to the ansible and began to work.

    “Marines are about twelve kilometers away,” Lura’aknul said. 
“And there’s a ship approaching our position fast.”

    “We’ll be gone before they can get to us,” Astrid said.

    “Marines are now six kilometers away,” Lura’aknul said.  They
came up over the horizon of the asteroid and into view.  With
thrusters blazing, they approached the Dragonfly in tight
formation.  Astrid realized that the view from their end would’ve
been much more spectacular:  a huge rock in space, surrounded by
stars in all directions, and maybe a view of the approaching ship.

    The Marines closed in on their ship, moving toward both
airlocks so they could get aboard as fast as possible.  Sensors
showed the NeoTerran ship approaching at fifteen marks of ion
power.  If the Marines didn’t hurry, her promise to Lura’aknul
might not mean anything.  But the NeoTerran ship was too far
away to stop things now.  Already, the airlock alarms sounded,
indicating that the Marines were coming aboard.  Moments later,
they had cycled through.

    “The Marines are aboard,” Astrid said, “Let’s get out of here.” 
She took the controls and turned the wings on.  They began to flap,
exerting an antigravitational force on the asteroid. Dragonfly was
once again spaceborne.

    “Captain,” MacHaley said, “A Captain Wilde is attempting to
contact us.  He’s on board the approaching NeoTerran ship.”

    “Don’t answer.  We’re getting out of here,” Astrid moved the
controls, and the Dragonfly flitted toward the Union.

    “What about the ansible,” MacHaley asked.

    “It’s pretty clear that NeoTerra isn’t going to let us walk in and
take it.  They’re more serious than the Union assumed they’d be. 
For now,” Astrid said, “we run.”

    At that moment, almost as if in agreement, the approaching
NeoTerran ship appeared over the horizon of the asteroid.  It had
closed the distance quite rapidly.  A look at that ship proved that
Astrid did not want to stay around and see what would happen. 
They had to get out of here, fast.  Astrid yanked the controls, felt
the lurch of the Dragonfly as she jumped forward, and hoped the
NeoTerran ship couldn’t keep up the pace.

    Dragonfly answered her every command, whirling away from
the asteroid and darting toward the Union, and safety.  Hot on her
heels, S.S. Neptune pursued.  Astrid pushed the wing speed
control farther forward and tilted the ship so her antigravitational
“wingbeats” would push harder and move the ship faster. S.S.
Neptune accelerated with the Dragonfly, much to Astrid’s dismay. 
Perhaps this wouldn’t be a safe getaway after all.

    In moments, she knew it wouldn’t be a safe getaway, nor would
it be an easy one.  Glowing orange torpedos whipped past, and
Astrid had to heave the controls to one side as the torpedos came
back on another approach.  She noticed the whitish glow at the
“front” ends of each missile.  This was the classic glow of pulsar
torpedos.  And pulsars were the worst kind of torpedo to run into,
especially in a small ship.

    Pulsars, when detonated, instead of creating a massive shock
wave that would rattle the ship, would generate a very powerful
burst of energy that could be phase-banded to match whatever
energy signature was desired.  Theoretically, a pulsar could be
made to fire collimated laser beams in all directions, or even
irradiate a ship with gamma rays.  In practice, however, pulsars
were quite fickle.  This unpredictability made dealing with them
even harder.  Astrid barely managed to dodge them as they made
their second pass at her ship.

    “Incoming pulsars!” Lura’aknul shouted.

    That NeoTerran ship was launching more of them already! 
Astrid didn’t say anything, because she was certain her remark
would have distracted her.  She wasn’t trained to be distracted, she
was trained to get the job done.  As the pulsars shot toward the
Dragonfly, she dodged, making the ship waft sideways, just out of
range.  The pulsars detonated anyway, just off the port bow.  They
gave off harmless-looking whitish flashes.  But Edlyn knew better. 
A whitish flash like that was an indicator of an old, but well tested
form of pulsar: the EMP flasher.  This type of pulsar would
explode, and produce an electro magnetic pulse in all directions. 
Any electronic machinery that was in range would be scrambled
for a short time.  It’s effect was similar to a stunner, except that it
didn’t affect people, it affected their ships.

    As she swerved, then Astrid knew, it was too late.  Or the pulsar
torpedo was too early.  It swung around, barely coming in range
before it detonated.  A burst of static fuzzed out all the holographic
displays and the artificial gravity shut down.  For a brief instant,
Dragonfly’s wings literally vanished.  But the force fields
reformed, and the ship stayed in motion.  Astrid had to make the
push for hyperspace, or better yet--stringwarp.  Otherwise, she and
her officers and Marines would be captured.

    The ship responded too sluggishly, though.  Astrid knew that
one flash was all that was needed. S.S. Neptune was catching up. 
Astrid gave Captain Wilde credit where credit was due--he knew
how to disable a spacecraft even when he had seen nothing like it
before.  He or she must be a very reasonable person, able to deal
with surprises with alarming efficiency.  Unfortunately, Wilde was
good enough at dealing with surprises that the totally new
configuration of the Dragonfly hadn’t fazed this person.  Whoever
Captain Wilde is, Astrid thought, they sure have it in for us!

    Astrid desperately threw the ship into the flight, hoping to make
it into hyperspace.  But it was an act of desperation, not of
calculation.  As if checkmated on the chessboard, Astrid realized
that the situation was over.  Three pulsar torpedos had been placed
right where she had to fly.  Again, credit was given where due. 
Wilde had anticipated her every move, and now, the game was
over.

    “Brace for impact,” Astrid said, and gritted her teeth.  A bright
white flash filled the entire front window of the small ship.  The
three separate pulsar flashes cast three-way shadows across the
walls of the cockpit and the cabin.  All of the displays went dark
as they were overcome by the electro magnetic pulse.  But
something else happened also.  Suddenly, Astrid felt her entire
body go limp.  She noticed Lura’aknul begin to slump forward in
her seat, and MacHaley had already fallen to the floor.  As
blackness overcame Astrid, she realized that one of those pulsars
must have been set to produce a pulse that would stun humans.

    This is not good, Astrid thought.  It would be the last conscious
thought she would have for several hours to come.
 

    The bright light made Astrid blink a few times after opening her
eyes.  Her head pounded to the rhythm of her heartbeat.  She was
laying on her left side on a hard metal deck  She was in a ship that
was definitely not the Dragonfly.  She tried to roll over onto her
back, but found the motion too difficult.  Her hands had been
secured tightly behind her back.

    Deciding to test how tightly she was tied, or whether or not she
could slip free from the bonds, she tried to move her hands and
arms.  Immediately, she felt the tightness of broad bands of tough
material chafe at her wrists, digging in at her waist, her shoulders,
her hips and across her chest.

    “Space pirates used to tie up captured Spacers like that,” a voice
spoke out from behind.  “That particular arrangement is called a
‘slave’s harness.’  Do you want to see how it works?”

    “Judging from its history,” Astrid said, “probably not.”

    “Let me demonstrate anyway,” the voice said.  Astrid heard
footfalls come across the deck, toward her.  Like it or not, she
realized, the demonstration would go on anyway.  Astrid moved
her legs, realizing that they were free.  But she couldn’t stand up. 
In fact, she couldn’t see who it was approaching her, because she
didn’t have her glasses on.  Her inability to see things close to her
made it difficult to make out who it was because they were too
close to her.  She squinted, hoping that would somehow adjust the
focus of her eyes.  But she knew that wouldn’t work--it never had
before when she tried it.  She was unable to focus too clearly on
anything less than a couple meters away.
    “A slave’s harness is a collection of straps, which are all
connected so that the person wearing it can’t undo any of the
fastenings and they can’t use their arms.  It also comes with an
extra loop of material in back that a person like me can grab onto. 
If you’re walking, you’re okay.  I could just tug on this loop to pull
you in the direction I want you to go.  But if you’re on the floor,”

    The voice paused, Astrid suspected that it was for her to begin
worrying.

    “When I pull the loop, this happens.”  The person yanked on the
loop, lifting Astrid from the floor a short distance.  Immediately,
the straps tightened, in particular, the one that went across her
chest.  It pressed against her ribs, while the one around her waist
contracted against her abdomen.  Together, they began to force the
air out from her lungs.  At the same time, the strap running down
Astrid’s back was also tightened, pulling her at the shoulders and
the hips to bend her backward.

    She found that she couldn’t cry out in pain.  The pressure
against her lungs had already forced the air from them.  The
person held Astrid above the deck for a few seconds, then let her
fall under her own weight.  She collapsed to the floor, and the
straps loosened just enough for her to breathe.

    “Don’t think of trying to escape,” the voice said.  “Your officers
are also our prisoners.  I’ll be back in half an hour.  Captain Wilde
wants to see you.”

    Astrid thought about exploring the room when the numbness
and pain in her body began to wear off a bit.  It was a relatively
large room, large enough to fit the Dragonfly into.  Except,
unfortunately, the NeoTerrans hadn’t done that.  Managing to sit up, Astrid realized that the room must have been
an empty cargo bay.  The giant doors off to her right would
probably open out into empty space.  That thought alone was
enough to convince her to behave well, to make sure she didn’t die
breathing vacuum.

    She began to survey the room for other escape routes.  The
cargo bay probably had a safety override, which would prevent the
doors from opening up when people were inside.  If she could find
it and turn it on, it might buy her some time to escape.

    “If you’re wondering,” a different voice said.  Astrid was
somewhat glad the voice was female, “First:  we’re not going to
leave you all alone in this room for half an hour, or else you might
have tried to escape.  And second:  we have some work for you to
do.”

    “You’re going to tell the Union that NeoTerra is independant,
and that we will not hand over the ansible.  Then, because you’re
our prisoners of war, you're going to call off any rescue attempts
by your crew at Earth’s End.”

    “I am?  What happens if I don’t do what you want?”

    “It’s a pity to waste your life, Astrid.”

    My commitment to serve in the Union Spacer Corps is
important to me, even if I have to die.  It’s a kind of loyalty that
cannot be bought.”

    “In exchange for their lives?  As I recall from my own
commitment to join the Union Spacers, a Captain was obligated to
protect ship and crew at their own expense.”

    “What are you saying?”

    “If you don’t do what we tell you to do, and call off Koronis’
Berkeshire, and relay our terms to the Union in a convincing
manner, Commanders Charles MacHaley, Lura’aknul, and LeRoy
West will die.”

    “Then they’ll die,” Astrid said, “They knew that they may have
to face death in the line of duty.  They have already prepared for
that.”

    “You know that you don’t mean that,” the woman said.

    “Perhaps I do,” Astrid said.

    “And if we choose to call your bluff, then what?”

    “You don’t know that it’s a bluff, do you?”

    “Yes, I do,” the woman said.  “You have the rest of your time
alone, to reconsider your decision.”
 

    The half hour passed somewhat quickly.  Astrid knew the time
was up when two men came into the room.

    “Take her to the Bridge,” the woman said.

    They hoisted her to her feet, somewhat roughly, but not enough
to cause pain.  Then they half led her and half dragged her on the
way to the Bridge.  Astrid recognized the first stop:  a lift.  The lift
went up five decks, then the doors opened.  She was pushed out
onto the Bridge, and led down to the level where the Captain’s
chair was.  A man stood up from that chair, obviously, he was the
Captain of this ship.

    “Welcome aboard the S.S. Neptune,” the man said, “Captain
Wilde at your service.”

    “It would be a service to let me move freely.”

    “I apologize for the--” Wilde paused to find the word “--actions
of my security brigade.  They are quite loyal, and they can be quite
forceful in demonstrating that loyalty.  They would rather not
allow you the chance to cause trouble aboard my ship.”

    “A simple force field could have been used.”

    “Not when we want to move you throughout the ship.  Besides,
there are some things that don’t look--convincing enough.  A
Captain held prisoner inside a tiny confinement cell, or a Union
Captain wearing a Union uniform in NeoTerran space, acting like
she’s betrayed her crew.”

    “I’m not here to cause a conflict,” Astrid said, “I only came to
retrieve the ansible, and the ansible observatory.”

    “You came to steal what belongs to NeoTerra.”

    “I came to ask NeoTerra to make good on its promise--that
people would construct the device for K.O.R.O.N.I.S. Shipworks
and ship it to Terra for installation aboard Berkeshire.”

    “That was not promised by the new NeoTerra,” Wilde said. 
“The government has changed hands, and the new powers that be
haven’t yet had time to complete the device.”

    “The new ‘powers that be,’” Astrid said, “have lied to the
people, and have attempted to cause a war with Terra by
attempting on many occasions to starjack shipments of anti-K
ammunition from ships on the Milk Run, and the latest attempt
has resulted in the loss of the entire shipment, and most of the
entire convoy.  Now, I haven’t been sent here to address that, but if
you have loyalty to the new ‘powers that be,’ I’d like you to
consider the blood that is already on the hands of your
government.”

    “You’re not ready to say what we want you to say,” Wilde said.

    “I’m not going to say anything to my people if you force me to
speak.  But if you fly your ship to the co-ordinates: five point nine
kiloparsecs, two degrees west by five degrees north, you’ll find out
what happened to the last Terran shipment of anti-KobalThi
ammunition.”

    “Or maybe I’ll just run right into an ambush that’s been set up
for me.”

    “There is no ambush,” Astrid said.

    “But there is something  you want me to see.  I’m not going out
there,” Wilde said, “Because I know what you say is false.”  He
motioned to the two security officers, and they grabbed her by the
arms to lead her away.

    “I’m not lying to you,” Astrid said.

    “Take her away!” Wilde said.

    “Don’t be afraid of the truth,” Astrid said.  Then one of the
security officers put his hand over her mouth, preventing her from
saying anything else while they shoved her into the lift.  She tried
to break free, to jump out of the lift.  One of the security officers
yanked her backward as the lift doors slid shut.
 

    It had been about an hour.  Wilde was beginning to wonder
whether or not Astrid would give in.

    “We’ve received a transmission from Admiral T’San,” Shepherd
said.  “She is wondering when we will transmit to the Union.”

    “Tell her that I will transmit only when ready.”

    “She anticipated that.  She would like to know when we will be
ready, sir.”

    “Tell her we aren’t getting any cooperation from Astrid.  Also,
ask her what is the significance of this set of co-ordinates: five
point nine kiloparsecs, two degrees west by five degrees north.”

    Shepherd paused.

    “Either that area needs to be investigated because the Union is
planning an ambush,” Wilde said, “Or there really is something
there.”

    “You’re not thinking Astrid was telling the truth, Captain,”
Shepherd asked.

    “I don’t know for sure.  I don’t like the fact that we are short on
anti-K ammunition, and if a shipment was due there, I want to
know what happened to it.”

    “Captain, you may be getting us all into trouble.”

    “Tell the Admiral that I will not transmit unless I learn the
significance of that set of co-ordinates.  That information might be
instrumental in interrogating the prisoners.”

    “What if she doesn’t believe you?”

    “Then she can come and interrogate the prisoners for herself,
and try to get Astrid to do what we want her to do.”

    Shepherd heard a note of irritation in Wilde’s voice, then went
back to work at the Communications panel.  He spoke into the
mouthpiece of a headset he wore, and heard the reply come
through the earpiece.  He continued a conversation with the person
on the other end of the transmission, then signed off.

    “Captain,” Shepherd said, “Admiral T’San believes that we can
obtain the cooperation of Captain Astrid without knowing the
significance of the co-ordinates she gave us.  She also says she
expects us to begin the transmission as planned, within the next
three hours.”

    Wilde sat at the command console and began to weigh his
options.
 

    “We’ve got only one option, Admiral Pon,” Lothair said, “We
have to take KB out in search of the Dragonfly.”

    “I’m sorry Lothair,” Pon said.  “We can’t do that.  We haven’t
yet received a transmission from the Dragonfly, so we don’t know
that they are in any danger.”

    “Something is not right, Admiral,” Lothair said.  “The reason
why we haven’t heard anything could be because they never had a
chance to send a signal.”

    “I understand your concern.  However, Terran ships are on their
way right now.  If we sent KB out of the port, she might not get
back in.  Or, Earth’s End could be destroyed when she returned. 
Until we can get the Admiralty to agree to move Union Federal to
Earthgate One, Terra has the Union at a disadvantage.  So long as
we are constrained to orbit Sol within close range of Terra,” Pon
said, “Terra can do with us whatever they please and we are
powerless to stop them.”

    “Admiral,” Lothair said.  He paused, so he wouldn’t be impolite
to Pon.  “I have no doubt that NeoTerra can deal with Captain
Astrid.  They blew up an entire convoy of anti-K ammunition. 
Now, we’re waiting for them to give us back our ansible.  How do
we know if they haven’t already blown up the Dragonfly and killed
our officers?”

    “Lothair,” Pon said, “We can’t.  But if Astrid is to succeed, by
tactics or by diplomacy, we cannot make NeoTerra, namely
Admiral T’San, paranoid of an attack by the Union.  I cannot give
you permission to fly to NeoTerra.  It is too much of a risk.”

    “Admiral,” Lothair said, “I suppose you are right.  However, if I
feel things are going wrong, or if we get word from NeoTerra, or
anyone else, that things have gone terribly wrong, I will take this
ship out of port, whether she is ready or not, and fly her to
NeoTerra.”

    “You will do so against my judgement, and to the detriment of
your career as a Spacer,” Pon said.

    “I am aware of that, Admiral,” Lothair said.  “But my career is
not as important as the life of any person.  And if any person from
my ship’s crew is endangered, I will move to protect them.”

    “The Admiralty is still trying to negotiate with NeoTerra.  You
may just interfere with the peace process.”

    “There may not be a peace process at all, Admiral!  The
shipment of anti-K ammunition was a part of that ‘process.’ 
What’s happened to it now?”

    “Mister Hiram Lothair, pay attention to me!” Pon insisted.  He
stood up, looming over Lothair as a giant holographic image on
the Bridge of KB.  “There will be peace, Lothair.  Even if it takes a
lifetime.  You are young, inexperienced, and overly impatient. 
Peace is a long process.  You may not notice it yet, or ever.  But I
can.  Now, there is a chance to reconcile the Union of Planetary
Republics to Terra and NeoTerra, but it will only come if there are
people committed to keeping the peace alive.”

    “Admiral,” Lothair said.  Pon continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

    “There will be peace.  I will pass the task on to my successors,
and they will pass the work down to their successors.  I am
charging all of you to continue in the work.  You have sworn to
promote peace by accepting the Spacer Creed, Lothair.
    “Admiral T’San has interfered in the peace process by blowing
up the convoy.  There has been no formal declaration of war, and
if Astrid succeeds, there may never be one.  But if you bring KB
onto the scene, you are bringing the Flag Ship of the Union into
the situation.  In a conflict, if the Flag Ship goes to battle, so does
the entire Union.  Then, there will be a war.
    “Therefore, I am giving you a direct order, Lothair.  You are not
authorized to launch Koronis’ Berkeshire, nor are you authorized
to take any other ship to NeoTerra.  Spaceport command will not
clear you to exit unless the survival of the ship or the Spaceport
depends on it.
    “Good day, Lieutenant Commander Lothair,” Pon said.

    Then he signed off the communications channel.  The holo
projector showed the standard “Signal off,” display, as well as
another display.

    Kairago spoke:  “We’ve been locked off from Admiral Pon’s
office, sir.  If we try to speak with him again, the signal will be
blocked, and he won’t answer.”

    “I know what the display means,” Lothair said.

    “You do know what it implies,” Kairago worded his question.

    “What does it imply?”

    “That Astrid and the others are in the hands of God.  Pray that
He protects them, and that He brings reconciliation between the
Union and its sister worlds.”

    “I wish things didn’t have to depend only on prayer,” Lothair
said.

    “When peace is at stake,” Kairago said, “only God can bring an
answer.”
 

    At that very same moment, Astrid felt the very same sentiment. 
At that moment, she had bowed her head in prayer, as the two
guards returned her to her cell, the empty cargo bay of the S.S.
Neptune.  Captain Wilde wasn’t about to listen to the truth, unless
something provoked him to open his mind.  Astrid had failed that,
and she realized that it was time to turn this problem over to One
who could handle it better than she--no, it had been that time
before, but she had forgotten to pray then.