that most humans couldn’t. What was that fragrance? An essence that seemed familiar, yet exotic. Then he had it... the nack-nack blossom. A rather hardy plant that was native to Algeron and prized for its scent. The only scent considered masculine enough for a warrior to wear.
Suddenly Booly knew that a Naa had entered his room... and was watching from the shadows. His hand slid toward his pillow and the sidearm hidden there. The damned thing had a tendency to migrate and...
Booly’s movements were interrupted when a hand grabbed his arm and another covered his mouth. The voice belonged to Lieutenant Nightslip. “I’m really quite impressed. Only one human in a hundred would have detected our presence.”
“Our?” The news that more than one individual had invaded Booly’s quarters came as something of a shock.
“Can I remove my hand? You won’t call out?”
Booly nodded and felt the hands leave his body. He sat and reached for the light. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the intelligence officer cautioned. “They are watching your quarters.”
“They ?” Booly asked. “Who the hell are ‘they’?”
“The mutineers,” Nightslip answered patiently. “They hope to seize the fort about forty-five minutes from now.”
Booly stood, saw five or six figures in the shadows, and knew they were Naa. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He had all sorts of questions... not the least of which had to do with the nature of the revolt. “How many?”
“At least sixty hard-core cadre—plus an unknown number of sympathizers. Beyond them, it’s my guess that most of the troops will back whoever looks strongest. Us, if we move quickly enough.”
Booly felt his heart beat a little bit faster. Sixty! It was far more than he would have guessed. “Arms?”
The Naa shrugged. “It’s hard to say, sir. We heard that one of our officers went over. He or she could open the armory.”
Booly finished buttoning his shirt and tucked the tails in. “Damn! Which one? Judd?”
“Maybe,” the Naa replied cautiously, “though I have no direct evidence of that. But this is bigger than Fort Mosby... I’m sure of that much.”
“How?” Booly asked as he laced his boots. “How did you learn about this?”
“They tried to recruit Blademaker,” the officer replied, “and he played along.”
“We’ll hang a medal on him,” Booly said grimly, “assuming we win.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be nice,” Nightslip said gravely, handing the officer his combat harness. “His village will be honored.”
Booly looked up. “Dead?”
“Yes, sir. We found him about twenty minutes ago. His throat had been cut.”
Captain Angie Tyspin broke the comer, saw two energy bolts whip through her peripheral vision, and felt Chief Gryco jerk her back. “Bad idea, ma’am. They have this corridor sewn up. Where are we headed, anyway?”
Tyspin was grateful for the “we.” “The Admiral’s cabin. Before they capture or kill him.”
Gryco nodded. “Aye, aye, ma’am. Let’s try ‘B’ Corridor.”
The naval officer followed the NCO back to a passageway labeled “Connector 10” and from there to Corridor “B.” A rating raced by.
The chief stuck his head around the comer, motioned for Tyspin to follow, and ran toward the stem. The Admiral’s cabin was large enough to have entrances onto both “A” and “B” Corridors. They would enter from the “B” side if the hatch was open.
Tyspin’s mind started to race. There was so much to consider ... and so much to do. Reach the admiral, secure the bridge, restore discipline. If only...
A power tech stepped out of an access hatch, saw Gryco coming her way, and raised the weapon. It belonged to the second engineer—now lying in a pool of his own blood.
The chief saw the movement, shot her twice, and passed without looking. Dead eyes stared up at Tyspin as the officer leapt over the body. It belonged to a petty officer named Trang.
The naval
Suddenly Booly knew that a Naa had entered his room... and was watching from the shadows. His hand slid toward his pillow and the sidearm hidden there. The damned thing had a tendency to migrate and...
Booly’s movements were interrupted when a hand grabbed his arm and another covered his mouth. The voice belonged to Lieutenant Nightslip. “I’m really quite impressed. Only one human in a hundred would have detected our presence.”
“Our?” The news that more than one individual had invaded Booly’s quarters came as something of a shock.
“Can I remove my hand? You won’t call out?”
Booly nodded and felt the hands leave his body. He sat and reached for the light. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the intelligence officer cautioned. “They are watching your quarters.”
“They ?” Booly asked. “Who the hell are ‘they’?”
“The mutineers,” Nightslip answered patiently. “They hope to seize the fort about forty-five minutes from now.”
Booly stood, saw five or six figures in the shadows, and knew they were Naa. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He had all sorts of questions... not the least of which had to do with the nature of the revolt. “How many?”
“At least sixty hard-core cadre—plus an unknown number of sympathizers. Beyond them, it’s my guess that most of the troops will back whoever looks strongest. Us, if we move quickly enough.”
Booly felt his heart beat a little bit faster. Sixty! It was far more than he would have guessed. “Arms?”
The Naa shrugged. “It’s hard to say, sir. We heard that one of our officers went over. He or she could open the armory.”
Booly finished buttoning his shirt and tucked the tails in. “Damn! Which one? Judd?”
“Maybe,” the Naa replied cautiously, “though I have no direct evidence of that. But this is bigger than Fort Mosby... I’m sure of that much.”
“How?” Booly asked as he laced his boots. “How did you learn about this?”
“They tried to recruit Blademaker,” the officer replied, “and he played along.”
“We’ll hang a medal on him,” Booly said grimly, “assuming we win.”
“Thank you, sir. That would be nice,” Nightslip said gravely, handing the officer his combat harness. “His village will be honored.”
Booly looked up. “Dead?”
“Yes, sir. We found him about twenty minutes ago. His throat had been cut.”
Captain Angie Tyspin broke the comer, saw two energy bolts whip through her peripheral vision, and felt Chief Gryco jerk her back. “Bad idea, ma’am. They have this corridor sewn up. Where are we headed, anyway?”
Tyspin was grateful for the “we.” “The Admiral’s cabin. Before they capture or kill him.”
Gryco nodded. “Aye, aye, ma’am. Let’s try ‘B’ Corridor.”
The naval officer followed the NCO back to a passageway labeled “Connector 10” and from there to Corridor “B.” A rating raced by.
The chief stuck his head around the comer, motioned for Tyspin to follow, and ran toward the stem. The Admiral’s cabin was large enough to have entrances onto both “A” and “B” Corridors. They would enter from the “B” side if the hatch was open.
Tyspin’s mind started to race. There was so much to consider ... and so much to do. Reach the admiral, secure the bridge, restore discipline. If only...
A power tech stepped out of an access hatch, saw Gryco coming her way, and raised the weapon. It belonged to the second engineer—now lying in a pool of his own blood.
The chief saw the movement, shot her twice, and passed without looking. Dead eyes stared up at Tyspin as the officer leapt over the body. It belonged to a petty officer named Trang.
The naval
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