"Mike Moscoe - The Price of Peace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moscoe Mike)

at the bridge activity behind him. His crew was a rough lot in rumpled clothing; some of it
had started life as uniforms. None of it had been washed lately. In addition to the
watch-standers, there was a clump of extra men and women with rifles, knives, and assault
weapons lovingly in hand. Izzy glanced at her XO; he returned a grim nod.
Izzy had heard from several merchant captains who'd paid what these guys asked. She had
no idea what the three ships that had failed to make their next port of call had said and
done. That was why the Patton was crossing this system with fake containers squaring off
her cruiser lines. On visual, radar, and laser, the Patton WAS the Pride of P. If the lieutenant
in charge of the Patton's electronic countermea-sures was half as good as she claimed ...
and her gear was working ... this skunk was still in the dark about nine six-inch laser
cannons charged and ready.
"Sorry, friend," Izzy answered, "but I'm just barely breaking even these trips. I'll have to pass
on the escort." Izzy tried to sound grateful for the offer. Come to Momma.
There was silent laughter among the armed crew behind
6 тАв Mike Moscoe
the face on screen as it lost any hint of a smile. Now it was pure cold evil, only slightly
softened by greed. "I don"t think you understand the situation, sister. You see. it's just you
and me, and an awful lot of space. Cough up a charge number and you might live. Keep on
the way you're going, and you're gonna end up in deep shit."
"Helm, go to two gees." Izzy let a tremble shake her voice. What she wanted to do was shout
for joy.
"Bad choice, girl." The screen went blank.
"Sensors, talk to me," Izzy snapped.
"They just powered up their active range-finding gear. They'll need about half a minute
before they can range us."
"Distance to skunk?"
"Coming up on fifteen thousand klicks."
Izzy settled herself back in her chairтАФand tightened her belt. Around the bridge, the crew did
the same. The quartermaster of the watch whispered, "Skipper just tightened her seat belt,
folks. I'd do the same." Not a regulation announcement, but Izzy wasn't about to squelch the
initiative. She was having too much fun. Twenty-five years she'd waited for this. Finally, she
was commanding a ship in space in combat. If that ship was a pirate, and if it would just
take a swipe at her.
She hit her comm button. "Crew, we got a possible pirate off our stern quarter. In a few
seconds, they may range us. If they do, I'm gonna start evasive maneuvers real fast. As soon
as they miss us, we'll steady down and shoot back. This is what we trained for. We're good.
Let's do it." She switched to gunnery circuit. "Guns, hold main battery fire until I give the
word."
"Turrets B and X won't take a charge. We're working on them. The rest are ready, skipper.'"
Damn the budget-cutters to hell and the spare-parts crunch right behind them. There was
nothing she could do about that at the moment. The skunk was closing; it looked like she
was going to get her fight. "Helm, prepare to flip ship and execute a down zig. Put spin on
the ship when I order the down zig."
THE PRICE OF PEACE тАв 7
"Flip ship, standing by. Down zig, standing by. Spin, standing by," was the curt response
from the young JG at the helm.
"Guns, as soon as I order the zig, you active-range that bastard with everything we got. I
want that target dialed in when I order a shoot."
"Yes ma'am" came back with a grin in it.
"Ping! We've just been pinged, laser and radar!"