"And they let you go afterward?"
Tor grinned, and shook his head. "Not bloody likely, lad. I didn't know what was happening, but I did know that lot wasn't about to turn me loose. Not after I'd seen them mucking about swapping cargos at what should've been just a simple nav check and recharge stop."
"Why not?"
"Hey, that was a hell of a big operation. There were at least five 'Mechs working in space to transfer the four 'Mechs in the Lance and all the rest of the gear over to the Invidious. Funny thing about that, too.
What?"
"The Mechs that were handling the transfer, they were high-class machines, know what I mean? New paint, clean parts. One of them was a Marauder painted red and black, like one of those personalized mercenary jobs you run into sometimes on the Inner Worlds. That was the one conned by their leader. Big guy, but quiet, real professional. And deadly, you know? What they were loading aboard the Invidious was junk, old, patchwork 'Mechs that were more salvaged parts than anything else. There was a black and gray Marauder and one of those light 20-tonner Locusts. It looked to me like some sort of covert operation, something they wouldn't want outsiders knowing about. I figured I'd last just about until the shooting stopped, and then they were going to retire me permanently. Know what I mean?"
"So how'd you wind up in a back alley with the derelicts?" Grayson asked.
"Good question. Like I said, the Invidious was in need of repairs, and I didn't get all of them taken care of during the refit. Seems there was a loose insulation panel in that hold, one I could pry loose, then pull back in once I'd squeezed myself into the 'tween heads. I stayed there until I heard them come back to find out I was missing, then slipped out of my hide-hole, made my way aft to a hold where they were off-loading 'Mechs, and slipped off with some soldiers." He paused, seeing Grayson's lifted eyebrow. "Well, I'd acquired a uniform by that time. That helped."
"That one?" Grayson pointed at Tor's muddied tunic. "Hardly. I'd hoped to talk with someone here, maybe the local port authority, about what I could do to get my crew freed. They... uh... don't take kindly to offworlders here. At least, not now."
Another troop of soldiers tramped past. These were members of the planet's Militia, Grayson noted, in brown uniforms instead of green. Barracks talk in the Castle had generally held Sarghad's Militiamen to be superior soldiers, though few of Carlyle's Commandos held either of the two local military forces in high esteem.
What was going on? Grayson wondered. Did he now have the Militia searching for him, too?
9
Grayson and Tor continued watching the soldiers in the street. It didn't appear that Jeverid's Guard was engaged in anything like a serious search, but they were definitely on the alert, patrolling the major streets for... what? Offworlders escaped from the attack at the Castle? Or suspicious characters, in general? With a bandit camp so close by, the local government forces might well be watching for any gathering of armed or unpleasant-looking folks who might be the first line of a raider assault.
Why were so many of them moving north? A small convoy of ground-effect weapons carriers HVWCs whined past.
Grayson kept turning Tor's story over in his mind. A freighter boarded, her diplomatic passengers slain? He'd been tempted at first to dismiss the idea as outright fabrication, but why would Tor lie about something like that? Bandits engaged in deception and subtle treachery as frequently as any organized government of the Inner Worlds, but this secret transfer of cargo and personnel at a nav check sounded pointless. That had to have been one of Hendrik's ships that stopped the Invidious. Only Hendrik's people would have known the freighter's exact course
as she jumped from star to star on her jump series from Oberon to Trellwan.
The distance between the two systems was about 145 light years. Because JumpShips could only manage about 30 lights at a jump, they had to plot and execute a number of system-to-system transits called the jump series, often in long and round about fashion from star to star. Most of those stars like the one where Tor had been ambushed were planetless, or were circled by barren and useless worlds of dead rock and ice. The chances that a ship would just happen to be there waiting for another ship were impossibly slim. Which meant the ambushers knew the Invidious was coming that way. Which meant Hendrik had ordered the ambush.
Or did it? Hendrik ruled an uneasy coalition of twelve minor Bandit Kings and their worlds. Perhaps someone on his staff represented a dissident faction a revolutionary faction, one working against Hendrik. That might explain the greatest mystery in Tor's story, the mystery of why Hendrik would bother to take the Invidious in deep space instead of right at home in the Oberon system.
But that still left so many unanswered questions. Why would anyone in Hendrik's camp bother attacking the Trellwan garrison, when the entire planet was to have been handed over to him peacefully within a few hours? Even a rebellious faction would likely have been advised to wait. Grabbing the Trell system for themselves would do nothing for dissidents in a showdown with Hendrik's forces except tie up needed men and machines.