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finished with a flourish. "Signed Maximillian Kruger, President and Commander-in-Chief, Armed Forces of the Free Republic."

The admiral paused before going on in a more conversational tone of voice. "We've overcome the first hurdle, but I won't try to hide the fact that we've got plenty of other problems to deal with if we're going to get this old girl into some kind of shape. With your talents and God's help I think we can manage it . . . we have to manage it, for the good of the Landreich and for the future of all Mankind." He fell silent again for a moment, then turned toward Admiral Richards. "Sir?"

Richards, in his turn, began to speak, reading from a prepared text similar to Tolwyn's. The phrases were different in places—" . . . charge and command of Admiral commanding Provisional Battle Group Karga operational command of ships and vessels previously assigned to Battle Group Independence . . . lend all support to the repair and refitting of the ex-KIS Karga . . ."—but the intent was the same. By his words Richards was "hoisting his flag" as the CO of the battle group which would be built around Karga, always assuming the salvage effort was successful. Independence would remain technically under Camparelli and Galbraith, standing by to furnish protection for as long as she was needed. But the rest of the ships that had accompanied the escort carrier to the Vaku system would henceforth take their orders from Richards.

His orders read out, Richards declined to make any sort of speech. He merely paused, then inclined his helmeted head back toward Tolwyn. "Proceed with the project, Captain," he said quietly. They had agreed beforehand that Bondarevsky's reading-in ceremony would take place later, among his own people on the flight deck.

Tolwyn responded with crisp authority. "Let's get this show on the road, people," he said. "Survey details to commence operations immediately according to the prepared schedule. Notify City of Cashel we will be ready to receive shuttles whenever they wish to begin off-loading our people. And contact Sindri; tell Dickerson that we're ready."

The crew on the flag bridge was already in motion by the time the orders were given. Grasping a handhold near the rear of the compartment, Bondarevsky watched them turn to with a feeling of pride. Whatever happened in the weeks and months ahead, this was a good team, and if anyone could restore life to the shattered remains of the supercarrier, they could.

Bridge, FRLS Sindri Orbiting Vaku VII, Vaku System 1232 hours (CST)

"Thrusters at twenty percent," Captain Charles Dickerson ordered. "Bring us in nice and slow."

Sindri was floating above and behind Karga in orbit around the brown dwarf, edging closer as the helmsman deftly manipulated the tender's thrusters to approach the derelict. After hundreds of years in space, the most difficult maneuver to carry out continued to be docking one ship to another, but Sindri's pilot was skilled at close-in handling and Dickerson had every confidence in his ability.

Still, it was a time for crossed fingers and held breaths. Dickerson knew tender captains who relied on rabbits' feet for luck, though he scorned them. He preferred the sprig of Taran pseudo-clover he carried in his pocket.

"One hundred meters, closing," the sensor technician reported from his post behind the captain's chair.

"Approach profile nominal," Lieutenant Kaine, the first officer, added.

As if oblivious to it all, the helmsman manipulated his controls like a concert pianist giving the recital of a lifetime. The rate of approach slowed steadily as the tender moved closer, dragging out the maneuver until Dickerson was ready to shout in frustrated impatience.

Then the ships touched, so gently that the contact was hardly noticeable.

"Deploying magnetic grapples," Kaine announced. 'We have positive contact!"

"Secure from maneuvering stations, gentlemen," Dickerson ordered, breathing out. "Set the special duty watch and begin tender operations. Engineer, shields to maximum power. And make a note in the log that we have docked with Karga."

"Damn it all, skipper," the helm officer said, "don't we even get a chance to smoke a cigarette?"

"Very funny, Clancy," Dickerson said, forcing down a smile at the helmsman's ancient joke. "Since you're not going to be doing anything on the bridge for a few weeks, what say you go over to the carrier and lend a hand with the salvage crew? I'm sure they'll benefit from your experience with helm systems. And your sense of humor, so-called."

Clancy gave him a grin. "Aye aye, skipper," he said cheerfully. Dickerson watched him leave the bridge wistfully. The challenge of taking part in a project as big as rebuilding a Kilrathi carrier appealed to him, but unlike the helmsman he had plenty to do right here aboard Sindri.

The tender was riding piggyback on the supercarrier's massive superstructure, clamped in place by magnetic grapnels. Her maneuvering drives were powered down now, but the massive banks of fusion generators that made up most of the tender's mass were still on-line. For the next several weeks, as the repair process swung into full operation aboard Karga, little Sindri's power plants would play an enormous part in the job.

Already Sindri's shields had extended around the supercarrier. They weren't up to combat standard by any stretch of the imagination, but they would protect work crews from the brown dwarf's strange radiation and put an end to the continual bombardment of tiny particles of matter against the derelict's hull. When their orbit took them through the gas giant's ring system once, which happened on the order of once every three days, the shields would also block all but the very largest chunks of ice from further damaging the ship. Already the unshielded Kilrathi hulk had taken a great deal of additional damage from multiple passes through the rings, minor hits by small pieces of junk, perhaps, but at orbital speeds the damage was magnified by kinetic energy unleashed by each of those hits.

Once the basic shielding was up, the engineers would set up a second set of shields

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