“What if this informant, whoever he is, is feeding us false information, Skipper?” McClelland asked. Ferrero looked at him, and he shrugged. “As you say, we’re not exactly on the best terms with the Andies just now. What if someone’s trying to set us up to stop one of their merchies expressly to create an incident?”

“I suppose the possibility exists,” Ferrero acknowledged. “But if that’s what someone’s trying to do, whoever it is picked a particularly stupid way to go about it, James. First of all, they picked the name of an Andy ship we happen to have good sensor data on, which means we should at least be able to avoid stopping the real Sittich even if she should somehow happen to appear in this particular system at this particular time. Of course, there’s no way a crewman on a Solly freighter could have known that would be the case. So it’s at least remotely possible that he just picked a name out of a hat and dogged out on his choice. But think about it. Wayfarer’s entire crew was caught in the act of slaving. Every one of them is liable to execution. So whoever gave Commander Reynolds this information has to be aware that if it turns out to be bogus, and especially if it creates an incident between us and the Andies, any deal that might have saved him from the hangman goes right out the airlock.”

McClelland considered that. After a moment, he nodded slowly, and Ferrero nodded back.

“All right, James. I want a course for Zoraster plotted soonest. Shawn, I want you and the exec to sit down and plan exactly how we’re going to do this. Obviously, I don’t want Chalmers to know we’re in the system. The first thing he’s going to do if he knows we’re there will be to warn his accomplices. If he’s smart, he’ll also be doing his best to keep us tied up in official red tape or using his own system security ships to shadow and harass us, trying to keep us distracted. So we’ll go in stealthy and stay that way.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am.” Harris frowned thoughtfully. “Can I deploy perimeter platforms on the way in?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Ferrero said after a moment. “We don’t have any idea what kind of sensor suite our target may be carrying. It’s remotely possible that they could spot the regular platforms, and unless we were in exactly the right place, we couldn’t count on intercepting them before they broke back out across the limit and disappeared into hyper again. More to the point, Chalmers’ system security units might spot them and warn our friends off.”

“That’s going to make things a little tougher, Skipper,” Llewellyn pointed out for the tac officer.

“It is,” Ferrero conceded. “But remember, we’re hunting a merchie here, and there’s only one habitable planet in the system. I don’t think even Chalmers is going to want to risk parking that many slaves aboard one of the orbital refineries or fabrication platforms, and, by the same token, he’s not going to want to try to hide them aboard one of the normal transient lodging habitats. That means our target is going to have to make contact with the planet, or at least one of the orbital warehouses where Chalmers can be confident of avoiding unwanted eyes, to pick up her ‘cargo.’ ”