Her crew were still coming out of the jump, groaning, bent over with sick bags or with hands on their temples, and she was trying to get her sluggish muscles to respond enough to tap through to the defense grid and get a reading, when they were hailed on an Alliance frequency.
A youngish man with a square jaw and a scar on the left side of his forehead stared at her across the viewscreen with a sharp gaze. He wore a brown vest jacket trimmed with leather, and a chain with a silver wolf head hung around his neck. A Scandian commander.
“This is Ulfgar Svensen,” he said in perfect English. In her delirium, he sounded almost Mercian. “Captain of Boghammer, Fourth Wolves. Who are you? Where is the admiral?”
“Captain Tolvern. The admiral is not on deck.”
“Not on deck during a jump into an unknown and potentially hostile situation? Is he ill? Is he injured? You’ve been in battle. Was he killed? There are rumors.”
She shook her head. It was gradually coming back to her, and her crew was responding, too. Readings came across her console, and the viewscreen split to show the various ships arrayed against her. No dragoons, only star wolves. Thank God.
It wasn’t so long ago that she’d come through jump points bracing for an attack from the likes of Ulfgar Svensen. Generations of merchants had traveled with fear toward the inner frontier, preyed on by these Vikings, who were always on the prowl for slaves and plunder, even as their own systems collapsed beneath plague and internecine warfare.
Their ships were powerful and aggressive, and their tactics might have been taken from Viking raids fifteen hundred years earlier on the coasts of England or France. Feints and deception, followed by short, brutal attacks, then withdrawing before superior forces could be brought to bear. One of the most devastating was an ability to project ghost images across a system to make it look like a pack of wolves was attacking in one place, even while the actual Scandian fleet made its move elsewhere.
She was glad to have them on her side this time around.
Svensen grumbled in Scandian to someone off screen before he turned back to her. “Someone wants to talk to you, Tolvern.”
A slender young Albion officer appeared in Svensen’s place and saluted crisply. “Lieutenant Elizabeth Kelly, sir. Navy adjutant assigned to the Fourth Wolves.”
“Keeping an eye on the Vikings. Never a bad idea.”
“Something like that, sir.”
“I’m glad to see a friendly face, Kelly. You’re all right?”
“I’m alive. Not bad, considering the circumstances, sir.”
“Agreed. Has Castillo come under attack?”
“Not yet, but Captain McGowan expects it. We’re holding at the belt, trying to patch up his ships after his fight at Nebuchadnezzar.”
Tolvern suppressed a groan to hear that her old rival and her naval reinforcements were one and the same.
“How big is the Alliance fleet?”
“In Castillo? Could be bigger, sir. We have the Fourth Wolves—you must know about that if Wang found you—and a handful of McGowan’s ships. Most of them can’t fight at the moment. The situation is quite desperate, sir.”
Kelly explained. Ten of McGowan’s warships had made it through, including Peerless and Zenger on Triumph. Supporting them were three Hroom sloops of war, another star wolf, two destroyers, a missile frigate, and a war junk.
“I’ve fought with less,” Tolvern said. “Six in the Fourth Wolves, right? Plus you can add Blackbeard and her brawler. And Wang, if she can ever escape that gas giant.”
“You left the war junks behind?”
“Couldn’t bring her, had to escape.” Tolvern thought of their losses, the crew left on Bilbao’s hull when the aliens destroyed it. “Wang and her ships were still alive, but the Adjudicators were searching for them.”
“That’s what you’re calling the ghouls, sir?”
“Call them ghouls, if you want—it’s as good a name as any.” Tolvern nodded. “Point is, they knew she was down there in the atmosphere. Believe me, I’m not happy about leaving her behind. But Wang knew what she was getting into, and we’ll get a good test of the Singaporean’s vaunted cloaking technology.”
“May I ask about the admiral, sir? He isn’t . . . he wasn’t . . .?”
“Admiral Drake is alive. Badly burned and in stasis.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
So was Tolvern, but this wasn’t the time to share feelings. Her bridge crew were active at all stations. No bad jump concussions, which was always welcome. Time to move away from the jump point.
“Detach Warthog,” she told Capp. “I want her twelve miles off starboard, protecting our number four shield.”
“Aye, Cap’n.
Tolvern turned back to the viewscreen. “Tell Svensen to ready his ships. We’re pulling all forces back to the base.”
Kelly frowned and shifted on her feet. “Captain McGowan ordered us to guard the jump point, sir. He thinks the aliens are incoming and wants us to delay their attack on the base until he can repair his ships.”
Tolvern kept her voice cool but forceful. “I am taking command of the Alliance forces in this system, Lieutenant. Svensen will prepare his ships and follow me down. I don’t expect further discussion on the matter, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Minutes later, the brawler detached from Blackbeard, Boghammer scooped up a few of the mines it had thrown down—dumb mines that would drift off and be wasted in a matter of hours—and the small force of ships accelerated toward the asteroid belt.
#
Blackbeard arrived at the asteroid base two days later. Peerless was on the surface in the main berth, with a Hroom sloop occupying the secondary berth. They had the cruiser’s armor peeled back and her guns laid out on the surface of the asteroid.
Tolvern brought Blackbeard a couple of miles above the surface, where she would be visible from the ground without magnification. She turned her guns outward to defend the yards.
“I’m tempted to order Peerless out of there,” Tolvern said. “Blackbeard is the bigger ship, the bigger need.”
“They got Peerless opened up like scrap metal,” Capp said. “She can’t do a thing like that. McGowan would be spitting mad.” She didn’t sound displeased by the notion.
“It’s what he would have done to me. The sort of thing he has done to me. Except now I’m in command, and it might do him good to be reminded of that fact.”
Capp gave a toothy grin and touched her hand to the console. “I’ll open a channel.”
“No, Lieutenant. We’ll wait our turn. In fact, I already told McGowan we’d wait while you were off shift. He’s going to lift off in a shuttle in a few minutes.”
“Ah, thought you was serious, Cap’n. Can I sit in on the war room and watch you goad him, at least?”
“I’m all set with the goading. You’ll have the helm while we talk.”
Smythe spoke up from the tech console. “Boghammer is ready to send a pod. She’s requesting docking facilities.”
“Acknowledged,” Tolvern said.
“Wait, are you bringing over Vikings?” Capp asked. “Are you sure I can’t watch?”
“I want McGowan on edge, Capp, not challenging my officers to a duel.”
#
Tolvern remained standing while the other four sat. Two of them, McGowan and Nyb Pim, had done so stiffly, nursing injuries, while Svensen kicked back, arms crossed. The man was missing his left hand; Tolvern hadn’t seen that in the initial scan. Kelly sat at the end, as far as possible from McGowan, who had settled smugly into the principal seat at the table.
The discussion of Admiral Drake would be at the heart of this power struggle, so Tolvern began there. “By my records, Triumph has the best medical facilities in our fleet, as Blackbeard’s are still out of commission. Doctor Willis on HMS Babylon is the best surgeon.”
“Arguable,” McGowan said. “Why is Willis on a destroyer if she’s so good?”
“She’s a burn special
ist, and that’s the critical bit. Science Officer Brockett will attend to the admiral’s stasis chamber, and Willis will supervise the burn recovery. I have several other injured crew who will come over as well.”
“Let’s settle a few things before we get ahead of ourselves,” McGowan said.
“Yes, let’s.” Tolvern had no intention of letting him dominate the discussion and put her on the defensive. “I assume you want to argue for command.”
“That’s right.” McGowan nodded. “You’ve been out of contact for months. You don’t know the situation out here. You’ll only fumble things if you try to command.”
He patted at his pocket and pulled out a pipe and a small tin of tobacco.
Nyb Pim whistled through his nose slits. “It is inadvisable to smoke, sir. We are repairing damaged control systems on the bridge and war room, and oxygen levels are elevated. You risk a fire, sir.”
McGowan frowned and set down his pipe and tobacco with an exaggerated sigh. “Then why the devil are we meeting here instead of on Peerless?”
“Because this is the command ship,” Tolvern said. “And I am the ranking officer.” She hardly needed to point out that his ship was opened up and inoperative on the surface of the asteroid.
“Isn’t that what we’re here to debate?”
“No, McGowan. We’re not. I’m taking command of the fleet. You can fill me in—whatever you claim I don’t know about the situation. And if you are truly in contact with the admiralty—the rest of the admiralty,” she added, to remind him that she was, in fact, a member of that board, “then we can consult them.”
“You were only first officer on Blackbeard,” McGowan said.
“Operating on a contingency basis, for the sake of the Old Earth expedition. Anyway, it has been some weeks since the admiral went down.”
“Blast it, you’re not Drake. How bad is he? How quickly can we get him in charge?”
“We’re both highly motivated to see that happen,” she said. “So don’t obstruct.”
He grunted. “Let’s say, for sake of argument, that you take command of this fleet. What are your plans other than abandoning our defense of the jump point?”
“I have thoughts, but first I need to be briefed.”
“In front of a Viking warlord, a junior officer of the fleet, and your pilot? Hah!”
Kelly winced, and Svensen growled. Nyb Pim made an awkward hum deep in his throat.
“Shall I return to my post, Captain?” the Hroom asked.
“As you are, Pilot.”
“If you want to convene a war council, let’s bring on Nash and Zenger,” McGowan said.
And let the three of you maneuver me into a corner? Not bloody likely.
Aloud, she said, “You are the second officer of this fleet. Acting. When Drake is back in the captain’s chair, you’ll be number three. Meanwhile, Svensen is the number three officer—the Fourth Wolves are the hammer to our anvil. If the Adjudicators land their decimators, Svensen’s mech units will be on the front line. That’s why he’s here.”
Svensen looked mollified. Pleased with himself, in fact. Pure Scandian, this one.
“And Lieutenant Kelly?” McGowan asked.
“The Scandians are occasionally . . . high-spirited. I’ll leave it at that. Kelly is our liaison, and I want her on hand during these meetings so that there can be no misunderstandings once we get into the thick of things.”
“Are you suggesting I’m likely to go rogue, Tolvern?” Svensen asked.
“Of course not.” She returned to McGowan. “As for Kelly, the junior officer part concerns me, admittedly. I’m giving her a brevet promotion to lieutenant-commander. Assuming we survive this, and she behaves with distinction, a board will confirm that promotion.”
“I suppose that’s your prerogative,” McGowan said, tone grudging.
That was one victory. Also, he seemed to have conceded her leadership. She was fully within her rights to take command. When the Apex war ended, Drake had promoted her to the admiralty and shunted McGowan to the position of military governor of the ruined world of Persia to get him out of the way. Now that he was back in the way, she had to keep him managed. Maybe a little flattery would help.
“You’ve done good work building up this base,” she said. “Its current name on the charts is Castillo Fortification One. I don’t like that.”
“No?” McGowan said, sounding wary.
“I want an official name, and since you’re the one who built it up, I propose that you name it.”
“Technically, I was the one who started building it,” Svensen said. “And it’s mostly Scandians doing the heavy labor.”
Kelly glared at him. “Let the captain speak.” Smart woman, that one.
McGowan leaned back in his chair. “Yes, well. The preparations are still far from adequate. Name it, you say? Hmm.”
“You could name it after His Majesty,” Tolvern said. “The crown is always pleased by such gestures. Or maybe Fort Peerless, after your ship. She played a critical role in the last war.”
That role being mostly avoiding battle, staying in reserve, and sending forth other ships to fight and die on McGowan’s behalf. Until the end, when Peerless did, admittedly, get into the thick of it and fight it out with the Apex harvesters. In any event, Tolvern had no intention of calling it “Peerless.”
“Now that I think about it,” she said, “that might be confusing. A ship and fort sharing the name . . . do you have any thoughts?”
“Fort Mathilde,” McGowan said.
Svensen scoffed. “Who the devil is that? Some old queen or other?”
McGowan glared. “It’s my mother. Do you have anything to say about that?”
“To criticize your mother?” Svensen gave a toothy grin. “No, not so much.”
“Mathilde McGowan is the reason I became a naval officer. Maybe you Vikings honor you families by making drinking cups out of their skulls, but this is how I honor mine.”
“Oh, it’s a good reason to use her name,” Svensen said. “I just hope the aliens don’t blow your mum to hell when they get here.”
“All right,” Tolvern said, before McGowan could challenge Svensen to a duel or some other nonsense. “Fort Mathilde it is. I think it’s a good name.”
“Tell me why you pulled the wolves back from the jump point,” McGowan said.
“My pilot will explain,” Tolvern said. She gave Nyb Pim a nod.
The Hroom brought up the war room display with a map of the Castillo System. “This is the current position of the jump point,” he said. “And this is where it will be in two weeks. And in four weeks. This is six weeks. And now eight.”
Nyb Pim kept shifting the alignment of the planets and other objects in the system to project them forward in time. Fort Mathilde and Castillo were currently almost aligned on the X-axis, but the planet was tight against the inner system and orbiting at a faster speed than the asteroid belt. The jump point was farther out still, near one of the gas giants, and moving at a different pace relative to the others.
“We have a window of about four weeks where Castillo and Fort Mathilde are in alignment,” Tolvern said. “I want the Fourth Wolves shuttling back and forth from the planet while they are. After that, look at where the jump point is. When that happens, an arriving Adjudicator fleet would be positioned to cut him off from the base.”
“I could outrun those alien swine,” Svensen said. He gestured at the map. “Maneuver around here, and get back before they reach the belt. Project a ghost fleet to fool them, if necessary.”
Tolvern shook her head. “A dragoon’s speed and maneuverability is comparable to a star wolf’s. Maybe they catch you, or maybe they ignore you and come out to Fort Mathilde, leaving us without your guns.”
“So you’ve got me running patrols from here to Castillo?” Svensen glowered. “When do I get to fight?”
“Sooner than you want, believe me.”
“What are you going to do at the planet, anyway?” McGowa
n said. “It’s a ruin.”
“So was Persia when we liberated her from Apex,” she said.
“Not like this,” McGowan said. “They’ve got no factories, no power generation. The Adjudicators came through, gutted their civilization, killed millions, hauled off millions more, and left the rest of them to live out their lives as primitives. Any minerals we need we can get from the belt. Once we secure the system, once we get a proper colonizing fleet in here, then we can think about rebuilding the elevator and orbital fortress.”
“We’re short on ships, short on guns,” Tolvern said. “Everything else is in good supply. I don’t just mean ordnance. We’ve got the equipment to fortify this base, get a reactor online, and start fabricating what we need. Even reforge armor. Where we’re short is manpower.”
“And you’re going to get that from Castillo?” McGowan said. “They live in the stone age down there. How do you expect them to operate a zero-G excavator?”
“The locals put up a fight,” Kelly said. “Set a good ambush. Held ranks under fire. Would have killed us all if they’d been better armed.”
“Any savage can pick up a spear and throw his life away,” McGowan said. “That proves nothing.”
“They speak a dialect of Old Earth English,” Tolvern said. “Some of them must have come out with our people on the Great Migration. We share ancestors.”
McGowan only scoffed harder at this. “We also share ancestors with peasant farmers of the Middle Ages. With pagans and barbarians and religious zealots. With desperate, starving Irishmen of the Potato Famine. With Australian sheep herders and Canadian backwoodsmen. Those are our glorious ancestors, Tolvern. Throw someone into a desperate environment for a generation or two and he’ll turn into a dirt-digging serf just like his progenitors.”
Tolvern was growing tired of his pontificating. “We are going to shuttle workers out of Castillo. Maybe we’ll find some old-timers who remember what it was like before. Maybe not. I expect the bulk will be rustics. Either they can be trained or they can’t. What I need are translators.”
McGowan nodded. “Singaporeans, you mean.”
“Right. We’ll interrogate the ones Svensen and Kelly hauled up and go from there. Oh, and the fellow from the ghost ship. Joneson is one man from this civilization who remembers starfaring. He can help us with the rest.”
The Alliance Trilogy Page 17