by David Weber
Lisa felt her eyes go wide. A pirate gang had a pair of battlecruisers?
“To Danak, he means, not Haven,” Weissman hastened to add. “Master Baird apparently told them that there were some top-of-the-line League missiles coming into our shipyards, and—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Charnay interrupted, flashing a startled look at Dorvelle. “League missiles are being sent to Danak?”
“No, of course not,” Weissman said before the admiral could respond. “What would Jerriais be doing with missiles?”
“But Master Baird had to tell them something,” Katura put in, his voice edging toward pleading. “They had his whole family—his wife and both daughters. The pirates’ leader—he calls himself Admiral Swenson—somehow got it into his head that Master Rowbtham has connections with some of the League’s major arms manufacturers. The pirates think he’s been selling weapons to the Andermani and getting rich off of Emperor Gustav’s building program, and the ransom demand was that some advanced missile systems be installed on their ships, too. So Master Baird spun them the story about missiles already being on their way.”
“Does Rowbtham have such connections?” Charnay asked.
“Not that we’re aware of,” Weissman said. “If he did, though, I suppose it might be logical for him to use local contacts in Danak to actually warehouse or even install them.” He shrugged. “The Consortium’s been expanding its shipyards, but we’re ahead of projections and don’t really need all the capacity we’ve got right now. Consignment work is a way to use that overcapacity rather than letting it stand idle, and we’ve been doing a fair bit of local shipbuilding and overhaul work. If Rowbtham really was going to install missile systems for someone, Danak would be a good place to do it.”
“It doesn’t matter whether Master Rowbtham really has munitions contacts or not,” Katura bit out. “The point is that Master Baird had no choice but to promise whatever Swenson wanted or watch his family be tortured to death.”
Lisa felt a shiver run up her back. Fleetingly, she wished that Breakwater and all those other anti-Navy people who thought the galaxy was an inherently safe place could hear this.
“So as I said, he told them that there were some missiles and upgraded launchers en route to Danak,” Katura continued, “and that for a reasonable fee, the Danak government would look the other way while they were misdirected to Swenson’s ships. But he also said the shipyard people would refuse unless they had authorization from the Jerriais office here in Nouveau Paris.”
“Why would they believe that?” Charnay asked.
“According to Master Baird’s recorded message, Swenson believes Rowbtham brought the missiles in openly through the Republic’s inspectors,” Weissman explained. “That’s not as ridiculous as it sounds, given the Danak government’s stakeholder position in the Consortium. We’ve got a twelve percent interest, and nobody on the Jerriais side would want us to think they were involved in black market arms sales. So it makes sense for them to insist that Rowbtham bring them in only with our knowledge.”
“Yes, exactly,” Katura said. “That was the only way Master Baird could convince Swenson to let me come ahead. He said that the office here had to sign off on the missiles’ release. I’m supposed to deliver Master Baird’s authorization here, then race back to Danak.”
“But Master Baird was smart enough to tell them none of this would work unless he came along personally to confirm the orders in Danak,” Weissman said. “And he insisted his family accompany him, as well.”
“Aboard one of these pirate battlecruisers, no doubt,” Charnay growled.
“No, I don’t think so,” Katura said. “Master Baird and his family were traveling aboard Pacemaker, but we were in company with Banshee, one of Master Rowbtham’s freighters. When Swenson sent me with Pacemaker, Master Baird insisted on moving to Banshee instead of one of Swenson’s ships.”
He took a shuddering breath.
“These pirates are brutal, Commodore. We’ve heard about cases in which their captives have been beaten, raped, tortured—even killed. Master Baird wasn’t going to have that happen to his family, and he threatened to blow up Pacemaker and Banshee and kill everyone aboard rather than put his wife and daughters in their hands.”
“Gutsy move,” Charnay said. “What if they’d called his bluff?”
Katura’s throat worked. “He wasn’t bluffing,” he said softly. “Fortunately, the pirates realized he wasn’t bluffing, so they let him transfer to Banshee with his wife and the girls. It’s slower than anything Swenson has, so it can’t run away, and Swenson insists it stay within a quarter million kilometers of his flagship where it’s under his guns. I know Captain Rhamas, Banshee’s skipper, and he won’t try anything stupid.”
“Let’s certainly hope not,” Dorvelle said.
“So officially, I’m here to arrange the missile release and authorization for the Jerriais yards to install them,” Katura concluded. “But my real message was the one I delivered first to Mr. Weissman and now to you.”
“I’m sure the Consortium was thrilled,” Charnay said sourly. “And I’m willing to bet Danak will be even more thrilled when they find out a pair of pirate battlecruisers are on the way. How much time do we have, Admiral?”
“Therein lies the problem,” Dorvelle said heavily. “Baird’s original plan was to stall the pirates’ departure from Walther long enough to give Captain Katura plenty of time to reach Haven and for us to gather up a proper welcoming committee to send to Danak with Pacemaker. Unfortunately, Swenson isn’t the patient type, and refused to give Katura any more time than absolutely necessary.”
“They didn’t want to give him any extra time, but Master Baird convinced them it would take at least twenty-four hours to process the release here in Nouveau Paris,” Katura put in. “And they don’t know how fast Pacemaker really is.”
“Luckily, he was able to shave almost forty-eight hours off his projected transit by bulling his way through the Gamma bands,” Dorvelle said. “Bottom line: the pirates are due to arrive in eleven T-days, and it’s seven from here to Danak.”
“Leaving you four days to put together a response,” Lisa murmured, wincing.
“That is, unfortunately, the relative math,” the admiral said. “But it’s worse than that. Saintonge and her escorts are really the only battlecruiser group we know we can get to Danak in time.”
Lisa sent a startled look at Marcello. “I thought…” She broke off.
“You thought we had the biggest navy in the sector,” Charnay said. His voice was odd, his eyes gazing out at nothing. “But we also have a lot of associated systems who look to us for collective security. Aside from the Capital Squadron—”
“Which we can’t touch,” Dorvelle put in.
“—which I wouldn’t touch even if I could,” Charnay agreed, “especially with a major pirate force in the neighborhood, the majority of our strength is in battlecruiser groups covering all those other star systems. Admiral, are Artois and Provence still in the yards?”
“Yes,” Dorvelle said. “And Poitou is down with a bad alpha node. We can hope the pirates aren’t as skilled or well-armed as we are, but that’s just an assumption. The numbers themselves certainly aren’t promising.”
“I’ve brought along Captain Rhamas’s best estimates on their ship types and acceleration profiles,” Katura offered.
Everyone turned to look at him. “Excuse me?” Dorvelle asked.
“Rhamas served in the Solarian Navy for twenty-three T-years before Master Rowbtham hired him,” Katura explained. “He knows his warships, and he had plenty of time to work his passive sensors. He couldn’t guarantee his acceleration numbers, but he’s confident about his class identifications and armaments.”
“Well, that will definitely help,” Charnay observed. “Not as much as another battlecruiser or two, but right now we’ll take everything we can get.”
Beside Lisa, Marcello stirred.
“Commodore Charna
y; Admiral Dorvelle? A private word, if I may?”
Some of the other Havenite officers frowned. But Dorvelle took it in stride.
“Certainly,” he said. “This way.”
The admiral led the way into a small office just off the briefing room. Marcello started to step inside, then paused at the doorway.
“By the way, Captain Katura. Would you happen to have any recordings of Swenson or any of the other pirates?”
“No,” Katura said, his lips compressing briefly with memory. “The first thing they did after they captured us was to go into both ships’ computers and erase all the com logs and everything else pertaining to them.”
“Of course they did,” Marcello said. “Thank you.”
He continued into the office with the others, closing the door behind him.
“I know what you’re going to say, Captain,” Dorvelle said before Marcello could speak. “And while I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I can’t allow Damocles to assist.”
“That’s indeed a question I’ll be addressing in a moment, Sir,” Marcello said. “But I first wanted to raise the possibility that this might be some kind of elaborate ruse.”
“To what end?” Dorvelle asked.
“Possibly to pull your ships out of position,” Marcello replied. “As you said, you’re stretched thin. They may be hoping you’ll uncover Nouveau Paris itself in order to respond to Danak. You said you wouldn’t touch your Capital Squadron, but Swenson may not know that. For that matter, they may expect you to bend the rules with an innocent family’s life on the line.”
“I don’t like thinking about that,” Dorvelle said grimly. “But that decision’s not negotiable.”
“Of course not,” Marcello said. “Again, Swenson might not realize that.”
“Or the target could be Saintonge, herself,” Lisa added. “If they know you won’t touch the Capital Squadron, and also know about the rest of your deployments, they may figure that a single battlecruiser group is all you’ll be able to spare.”
“And we only have Katura’s word regarding the enemy’s numbers,” Marcello said, nodding. “I’m not necessarily saying he’s lying, but he could have been deliberately misled. If you go in expecting eight ships and find yourself facing twelve or sixteen, even the Republic’s edge in weapons and training might not be enough.”
“Or worse,” Lisa added. “What kind of gang has the resources to buy and operate a pair of battlecruisers? Or needs ships that heavy, for that matter? Frankly, everything Katura has said sounds to me more like mercenaries than pirates.”
“Possibly connected to your friend Tamerlane?” Dorvelle suggested.
“I’m sure that thought has occurred to all of us,” Marcello said. “That’s why I hoped some of Pacemaker’s recordings were intact. My point is that if Swenson is Tamerlane, and if the group is bigger than we know, this could be one of several coordinated attacks on specific Havenite targets.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Dorvelle said, his forehead furrowed with thought. “But highly unlikely. A group that big would need a huge local logistics support structure, and I can’t see that hiding anywhere nearby. Not with Brigadier Massingill poking sticks into all the likely termite hills.”
“And there are ways a pirate gang could have picked up a pair of battlecruisers,” Charnay said. “That’s exactly what the group at Secour was trying to do, remember.”
“Point,” Marcello agreed. “And actually, I doubt anyone would actually try a scheme like I described. But I wanted to make sure the possibility had been raised.”
“But you still think Swenson is connected to Tamerlane?” Dorvelle asked.
“I think it possible,” Marcello said. “And if that’s the case, I respectfully submit that, under our existing treaty, Damocles has not only a right but also a duty to be involved.”
Dorvelle gave out a low whistle. “And with that, the can of worms is officially open,” he said. “You realize, I presume, that not only would the CNO have to sign off on that, but Legal Affairs would also have to get involved, not to mention the State Department. I’m not at all sure that four days is enough time to sort through all of that.”
“I realize that, Sir,” Marcello replied. “Nevertheless, I stand by my request.”
Dorvelle looked at Charnay.
“The Navy’s got a long tradition of giving the commander on the scene wide latitude in carrying out his orders, Commodore,” he said. “Right now, it looks like you’re going to be that commander. Thoughts?”
“I agree CNO would have to be aboard, Sir,” Charnay said. “If nothing else, so that he could lean on Legal and State. I guarantee they’re not going to be happy at the image of a Manticoran warship getting shot up under Havenite command.”
He looked at Marcello and Lisa.
“On the other hand, Captain Marcello makes a valid point about the moral imperatives here. We’ve also worked well with Manticore in the past, not just at Secour but also in our joint pirate-hunt program. Their people and capabilities are well known to both our line personnel and Command.” He smiled tightly. “As a purely practical matter, I’ll remind the Admiral that Damocles was a major contributor to one of the RMN’s three enemy kills at the Battle of Manticore. I think I could find a use for an extra destroyer.”
“Very well,” Dorvelle said. “I’ll run it up the flagpole and see if anyone wants to take potshots at it. I just wish you didn’t have quite as good a point about how useful you could find them. If I could scare up a few more hulls of our own for you, I would.”
“I know that, Sir.” Charnay looked at Marcello and Lisa. “So our roster is Saintonge, three heavy cruisers, four destroyers, a frigate, and RMN Damocles. Not the most cheerful of line-ups against two battlecruisers and six heavy cruisers, but I’ve seen worse. And we’ll have seven days en route to plan.” He looked back at Dorvelle and stiffened to attention. “Do I have my orders, Admiral Dorvelle?”
“You do, Commodore Charnay,” Dorvelle said, also coming to attention. He didn’t look very happy, Lisa thought, but happiness seemed in generally short supply at the moment. “Start your spin-up immediately. Requisition whatever you need; I want you ready to sortie within thirty-six hours.”
“We will be, Sir.”
“Good,” Dorvelle said. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Charnay said. “And if I may make a suggestion, I recommend that you not mention our discussion about feints and ruses in front of Katura or Weissman.”
“In case this is a ruse?”
“Yes, Sir.” Charnay said. “Exactly.”
* * *
Saintonge and her escorts were indeed ready to depart within Dorvelle’s window. So was Damocles.
“I doubt the Admiralty would be thrilled if they knew what we were up to,” Lisa warned Marcello as they headed for the hyper-limit.
“Lucky for us they’re not here,” Marcello replied. “Or was that a roundabout way of saying you had your own qualms?”
“Not qualms, exactly, Sir,” Lisa hedged. Marcello wasn’t as rigid on quiet criticism as some officers she’d worked with, but that didn’t mean she should abuse the privilege “I’m just a little concerned about the logistics. Not to mention this new software.”
“We can hardly work with Charnay if our computers and sensors can’t talk to his,” Marcello pointed out. “And don’t forget that even though the Havenite ships are built locally, all of us are basically Solarian-designed. In a way, we were built to interface.”
“Yes, sir,” Lisa said. And really, their hardware was mostly compatible, though of course the Havenite versions were newer upgrades. “I’m mostly worried about how far they’ll be able to get into our systems.”
“Mostly it’ll just be our communications interface,” Marcello said. “I wish we could do more—a fully distributed fire-control network, for instance, would be extremely useful. But our missiles are too old and don’t interface with their systems well enough for that.”
&n
bsp; “There’s still all the sensor data and com traffic,” Lisa said. “I’m not worried so much about whether the access filters will work as I am about the access we had to give them. Even with Papadakis’s people looking over their shoulders, who’s to say they didn’t slip in a worm or gatherer program?”
“Hard to see what we could possibly have that they might want,” Marcello said with a hint of dryness. “Anyway, we theoretically ice-walled all of our encryptions and private data and protocols before we let them into the system. If they’ve got a worm that can tunnel through all that—and there’s some reason for them to try it—then yes, we could be in trouble. Still, encryptions and protocols can be changed, and I imagine the Admiralty will do exactly that as soon as we return.”
“Yes, Sir,” Lisa agreed, her throat unpleasantly dry. When they returned.
If they returned.
In many ways, this was worse than even the invasion of Manticore. There, they’d had barely hours to realize what was happening, and all of that time had been filled with frantic work as every ship in the Navy scrambled to get combat ready.
Here, they were going to have days to handle all that prep work. Days which would give everyone aboard plenty of time to lie in their racks thinking about what lay ahead.
Their training was supposed to have prepared them for this kind of situation. But as Lisa looked back now, she realized it hadn’t prepared them nearly well enough.
But then, probably no training really could.
“So let’s forget about potential problems with our allies and focus our attention on the definite problems with our opponents,” Marcello continued. “We have seven days to make sure everything and everybody is ready for whatever’s coming at us. I trust you’ve made that point to Ravel?”
“Yes, Sir, I have,” Lisa assured him. “Not that she needed the reminder. She’s been elbow-deep in analysis, simulations, and layered plans since we got the news.”
And she was a competent enough TO, Lisa knew. Still, she didn’t seem to have that spark of outside-the-box thinking Travis did.