hurled themselves at the shore patrol to save Asa Biko. Ram knew they still loved him as much as ever. Now, Biko knew it, too.
The Staas Guard said rank didn't matter to them, but they lied. Ram couldn't help but notice (as the SP broke his nose) that even with thirty or forty pilots and crewmen coming at them from the bar, they made a special point to beat up all of Hardway's officers first.
*****
The pilots in the longboat that came to pick them up didn't wear any insignia or rank on their black flight suits. They didn't talk much either. "Take a seat. Short flight." Less than two minutes later, Ram, Biko, and Dana lifted off from the mainspoke landing pads with a standing priority clearance that would have left incoming traffic in a holding pattern if there had actually been any.
They flew them out over the station's small yards. Too small for the carrier, he thought. The yards looked like they'd been docked at Hardway .
This time, when they'd come home, there were no heroes' welcomes, no speeches from dignitaries. This time, even though they'd won, the damage to the carrier was so bad that Staas wanted to fix her up somewhere quiet where the press wouldn't see it. And they wanted the casualties kept out of sight.
The longboat flew past Hardway and the hundreds of knuckledragger mechs working to fit her with replacement modules hauled in from the main Staas Yards at Sagan. A ship held station a few Ks off. It had no markings other than a name, half-burned away by what could only have been enemy fire received in some engagement that neither Ram nor anyone else would probably ever hear about. Arbitrage had been Harry Cozen's personal ship before he took command of Hardway and she was still under his hand.
Arbitrage cracked the doors for the longboat. Her total length was only 217 meters, but that bay was over 170m long. The pilots brought them in without a word over comms between them and the ship. There were three other longboats in there, but mostly it was full QF-111 Dingoes. Eighteen of the seven-meter-tall autonomous AI fighter drones stood in Arbitrage 's bay.
Biko pointed out the porthole. "What the hell are those? Those new vertical elements on the front of the Dingoes..."
Ram saw them, too. They looked like vertical coffins on a neck, welded to the curved, front side of the drone, offset to starboard, since the 6x140mm autocannon occupied the center. While they tried to figure out why the top part of the new section was made of transparent diamond-pane like a canopy, the nameless pilots set the longboat down in the clamps near a docking tube. When the pilots got a green light for atmo in the airlock, they didn't even turn around. They just said, "He's waiting for you."
Harry Cozen stood outside the airlock doors. He'd left Ram to supervise Hardway's repairs some twelve days ago, and now, Ram knew where he'd gone. "Seal the doors and pressurize the bay," Cozen told a maintenance crewman. "I want to introduce some of my officers to the new F-151s."
Even withheaters blasting the bay, it was still freezing in there without an exosuit. Cozen walked them out among the fighter drones, all standing on their stubby, retractable legs. He said, "Biko, I thought you might appreciate seeing this."
Biko said, "What did you attach to the front of these Dingo 111s? They look like coffins." Every one of the eighteen drones had been fitted with one of the 2.5 meter, vertical boxes on the front, offset to starboard on a long neck.
Cozen said, "That's a vertical cockpit, Mr. Biko."
"You're kidding."
Cozen said, "This is Staas Company's new, F-151 Exo-Atmospheric Interceptor. It used to be a QF-111 drone. Now, it's a manned fighter...the F-151 Bitzer. It's Aussie for 'a bit of this...bit of that'... Bitzer ."
"Because you put a cockpit on it?"
Ram said, "The Dingoes are obsolete."
Cozen nodded. "It's their brains that need an upgrade. Putting a pilot inside will do that. Besides, we have thousands of
The Staas Guard said rank didn't matter to them, but they lied. Ram couldn't help but notice (as the SP broke his nose) that even with thirty or forty pilots and crewmen coming at them from the bar, they made a special point to beat up all of Hardway's officers first.
*****
The pilots in the longboat that came to pick them up didn't wear any insignia or rank on their black flight suits. They didn't talk much either. "Take a seat. Short flight." Less than two minutes later, Ram, Biko, and Dana lifted off from the mainspoke landing pads with a standing priority clearance that would have left incoming traffic in a holding pattern if there had actually been any.
They flew them out over the station's small yards. Too small for the carrier, he thought. The yards looked like they'd been docked at Hardway .
This time, when they'd come home, there were no heroes' welcomes, no speeches from dignitaries. This time, even though they'd won, the damage to the carrier was so bad that Staas wanted to fix her up somewhere quiet where the press wouldn't see it. And they wanted the casualties kept out of sight.
The longboat flew past Hardway and the hundreds of knuckledragger mechs working to fit her with replacement modules hauled in from the main Staas Yards at Sagan. A ship held station a few Ks off. It had no markings other than a name, half-burned away by what could only have been enemy fire received in some engagement that neither Ram nor anyone else would probably ever hear about. Arbitrage had been Harry Cozen's personal ship before he took command of Hardway and she was still under his hand.
Arbitrage cracked the doors for the longboat. Her total length was only 217 meters, but that bay was over 170m long. The pilots brought them in without a word over comms between them and the ship. There were three other longboats in there, but mostly it was full QF-111 Dingoes. Eighteen of the seven-meter-tall autonomous AI fighter drones stood in Arbitrage 's bay.
Biko pointed out the porthole. "What the hell are those? Those new vertical elements on the front of the Dingoes..."
Ram saw them, too. They looked like vertical coffins on a neck, welded to the curved, front side of the drone, offset to starboard, since the 6x140mm autocannon occupied the center. While they tried to figure out why the top part of the new section was made of transparent diamond-pane like a canopy, the nameless pilots set the longboat down in the clamps near a docking tube. When the pilots got a green light for atmo in the airlock, they didn't even turn around. They just said, "He's waiting for you."
Harry Cozen stood outside the airlock doors. He'd left Ram to supervise Hardway's repairs some twelve days ago, and now, Ram knew where he'd gone. "Seal the doors and pressurize the bay," Cozen told a maintenance crewman. "I want to introduce some of my officers to the new F-151s."
Even withheaters blasting the bay, it was still freezing in there without an exosuit. Cozen walked them out among the fighter drones, all standing on their stubby, retractable legs. He said, "Biko, I thought you might appreciate seeing this."
Biko said, "What did you attach to the front of these Dingo 111s? They look like coffins." Every one of the eighteen drones had been fitted with one of the 2.5 meter, vertical boxes on the front, offset to starboard on a long neck.
Cozen said, "That's a vertical cockpit, Mr. Biko."
"You're kidding."
Cozen said, "This is Staas Company's new, F-151 Exo-Atmospheric Interceptor. It used to be a QF-111 drone. Now, it's a manned fighter...the F-151 Bitzer. It's Aussie for 'a bit of this...bit of that'... Bitzer ."
"Because you put a cockpit on it?"
Ram said, "The Dingoes are obsolete."
Cozen nodded. "It's their brains that need an upgrade. Putting a pilot inside will do that. Besides, we have thousands of
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