And then Ninja had refused payment. “Get through the blockade, get help for us, and save Rob’s butt. That’s what I want out of this.”
“If it can be done,” Leigh had promised, “I will.”
The officer from the Scathan cutter was shaking down the last passenger when his comm pad beeped and someone began talking loudly enough for Leigh to hear. “A destroyer just arrived in system! Get back here now!”
Annoyed, the officer tapped the pad. “That’ll be one of ours. What’s his ID?”
“He came in at the jump point from Glenlyon, and he’s broadcasting a Glenlyon ID!”
Cursing, the officer and his team raced off the freighter’s crew deck and through the access tube to the cutter.
Leigh and everyone else waited, unmoving, until the air lock cycled closed.
The moment that happened the captain of the Bruce Monroe ran to the freighter’s control deck, Leigh close behind. “Is that Saber?” the captain gasped.
She looked at the information displayed below the contact. “This says she’s Saber.”
“What are they doing here?”
Leigh felt a smile on her lips. “Surprising a lot of people, it seems.”
* * *
• • •
Morale aboard Saber was shaky at best. Everyone followed orders, every task got done, but Rob could tell that the officers and crew lacked confidence. The shock of Claymore’s loss had hit them hard. The inactivity as Commander Teosig kept the ship in orbit afterward had let the shock settle in. “They’re ready to lose,” Mele had told him. “One hit and they’ll fold.”
“What do you recommend?”
“Do something,” Mele said. “Anything.”
He’d come up with something, an action that had led Mele to comment that she hadn’t meant doing anything really stupid.
He didn’t think this was really stupid. Hopefully, he was right about that.
The reaction of the crew of Saber as Rob ordered the ship to the jump point hours after the Bruce Monroe had departed both worried him and convinced him that he was doing the right thing. Shock vied with what looked too much like fear even though the crew carried out their orders with the usual practiced skill.
Rob had made sure that Lieutenant Commander Vicki Shen was on the bridge when he gave the order. If someone was going to challenge his authority and his orders, he wanted it done to his face. But even though Shen looked as surprised as the others, she said nothing.
He activated the ship’s general announcing system. “This is the captain.” That still felt weird to say, bringing back both fond and disturbing memories of his time on Squall. “We’re going to jump, arriving long enough after the arrival of the Bruce Monroe to surprise anyone waiting at Jatayu. If the odds are bad, we’ll distract the enemy forces enough to help the Bruce Monroe get through the star system before we jump back here. If the odds are good, we’re going to start making them pay for Claymore. Regardless of exactly what happens, we’ll disrupt the enemy’s plans.”
Rob paused, trying to remember the rest of the speech he had carefully rehearsed in his mind. “No matter what we find at Jatayu, I know Saber and her crew will be able to handle it. Before this is over, Scatha is going to find out the hard way not to mess with the kind of crew Saber is fortunate enough to have, and your friends on Claymore are going to be avenged.”
Ending the speech, Rob turned to look at Shen. “I’m sorry I couldn’t brief you on this beforehand. Let’s go talk.”
Once in his stateroom, Shen declined his offer to take a seat, her expression as stiff as her words. “Since the captain lacks confidence in me—”
“Let’s not finish that,” Rob said. “I do have confidence in you. I’m sorry I couldn’t brief you beforehand, but only two other people in Glenlyon knew we were going to Jatayu. One of them was Council President Chisholm, who ordered me not to tell anyone else until we headed for the jump point.”
Shen frowned, but her posture relaxed a bit. “What’s our objective, sir? We’re supposed to defend this star system.”
“Defense doesn’t have to be a passive thing. Hitting enemy warships at Jatayu without warning will disrupt whatever they’re planning.”
“What if they’re waiting for us?”
The unspoken part being like they were for Claymore.
Rob grimaced, trying to figure out how to say it nicely and finally deciding to be blunt. “Commodore Hopkins practically told Scatha exactly when Claymore would arrive at Jatayu. He took weeks to prepare and let detailed information about his plans be known.”
“There was a reason for that!” Shen protested. “To ensure that Scatha knew we were coming so they’d back down. The Commodore wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be any accidental exchange of fire.”
“Really?” Rob shook his head. “I guess that might have worked if Scatha hadn’t chosen to start shooting again. Why was the Commodore so certain that Scatha would back down?”
“Deconfliction, sir. It’s a necessary element . . . it was a necessary element for offensive operations in a situation short of war, giving the opponent a chance to back down before fire is exchanged.”
It made sense, in a way, if you assumed that your opponent was as interested in avoiding hostilities as you were. Or if avoiding hostilities was a high enough priority to sacrifice ships and people for if the assumptions were wrong. And Commodore Hopkins’s assumptions had been badly wrong.
Emphasizing that now to Vicki Shen would serve no purpose, Rob knew. “Here’s what’s important this time. Scatha won’t have time to learn we jumped and get word to Jatayu before we arrive. It’s physically impossible. We’re going to be the ones pulling a surprise. Here’s what I need from you. Confidence. Let everyone else aboard see that you’re concerned about what might be at Jatayu but certain that we can handle it. The officers and crew don’t entirely trust me yet. But you’re one of them.”
Shen nodded slowly, her expression worried. “I’ll have to fake the confidence.”
Rob smiled. “I was an ensign once. Just like you were. And every ensign has to learn how to look confident even when they have no idea how things are going to work out. Right?”
She smiled back at him. “I won’t have to fake confidence in the crew. They’ll do what we ask of them.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Rob said. He didn’t have to fake that statement, either.
Which is why Saber arrived at Jatayu, the entire crew at full alert, shields at maximum strength and weapons prepared, Mele Darcy and her five-Marine detachment also at ready. After the initial shock at Rob’s ordering them to the jump point, morale had noticeably improved aboard Saber. But if two destroyers were waiting anywhere near the jump exit, it would take a lot more than morale to inflict any damage on the enemy and still get away without taking hits.
“Leaving jump space.”
He felt the familiar shock of returning to normal space, the confusion and blurry vision that always accompanied the drop out of jump space, the moments of fearing that Saber was about to suffer the same fate as Claymore.
An alert sounded, but it wasn’t the urgent shrill warning of imminent danger.
“Only one warship is in Jatayu Star System,” Lieutenant Cameron reported. “A Buccaneer Class cutter currently alongside the freighter Bruce Monroe. Cutter is broadcasting Scatha registry. Distance two light minutes.”
“Get me an intercept vector,” Rob ordered, feeling a leap of elation that the odds had turned out to be very much in Saber’s favor.
“We’re going for him, sir?” Cameron asked.
“Hell, yes, we’re going for him. Comms, give me a link to send him a message.”
“Aye, sir. Ready, sir.”
Rob took a couple of slow breaths, wanting his voice to sound not just steady but also full of confidence. “Scathan cutter, this is the Glenlyon warship Sa
ber. You will lower your shields, power down all weapons, and prepare to be boarded. Failure to surrender will result in our use of all necessary force. Commander Geary, out.”
“Here’s the intercept, sir,” Cameron said.
The curving path through space arced from where Saber was, slightly above and to port of the cutter’s current location, to where the cutter would be when Saber got there. “Execute intercept course,” Rob ordered. “Come starboard zero zero three degrees, down zero one degrees. Accelerate to point zero eight light speed.” That would be pushing even a destroyer like Saber but would achieve an intercept in about thirty minutes, well worth it to give the cutter the least possible time to run.
Saber trembled as her main propulsion cut in at full power and maneuvering thrusters pushed her around slightly to aim for the intercept.
“It’s been two minutes. He should be seeing us now, Captain,” Ensign Reichert reported from the weapons station, her eyes fixed on her displays.
It would be at least two more minutes before Geary would see the cutter’s reaction. Maybe longer if the cutter’s crew dithered before deciding what to do.
“Sir?” Lieutenant Cameron asked. “That’s the same class ship as your former command, Squall, right?”
“That’s right,” Rob said. “I know everything that ship can do. And everything it can’t do.” But thinking of Squall made him recall his last fight, and Danielle Martel, who had died defending a world that still shied away from acknowledging her contribution to the victory.
To distract himself from those thoughts, Rob called back to where Mele waited with her newly minted Marines. “Captain Darcy, we’re facing a Buccaneer Class cutter. Standard crew size twenty-four. The one we captured from Scatha three years ago only had about twenty in the crew.”
Mele’s voice, usually cheerful, sounded deadly calm as she replied. “Understand we’ll probably face approximately twenty hostiles if we conduct a boarding operation. Do you have any estimate as to the likelihood we’ll be needed?”
“We should know in a couple of minutes,” Rob replied. “The cutter was alongside the Bruce Monroe when we arrived.”
“They might turn it into a hostage situation,” Mele warned. “If they think of that.”
Rob hadn’t considered that possibility. What if the cutter’s crew took hostage the passengers and crew of the freighter? How much could he risk the lives of those men and women in the pursuit of that cutter? “Let’s hope they don’t think of that,” Rob finally said.
Rob finally saw signs that the cutter was reacting more than five minutes after Saber had arrived at Jatayu. “Is he pulling in his boarding tube?”
“Yes, sir,” Ensign Reichert confirmed.
“Contact the Bruce Monroe. I want to know if they’re all right and if the cutter took any hostages with them.”
A minute and a half ago, the cutter had begun pulling away from the freighter, lighting off its main propulsion to accelerate on a course away from Saber.
“Captain, it looks like he’s heading for the jump point for Kosatka,” Lieutenant Cameron said.
“Give me an updated intercept vector,” Rob ordered.
Catching a ship or planet or satellite on a fixed vector or orbit through space was a little complicated but about as simple as anything in space could be. The math got more complex when what you wanted to catch was accelerating.
“Captain? Can we assume standard acceleration profiles for the cutter?”
“Standard or worse than that,” Rob said. “After we captured Squall, she needed a lot of work to get her equipment in shape.”
“Revised intercept ready, Captain.”
Rob checked it out. “Very well. Execute revised intercept.”
“Captain,” Ensign Reichert said, “request targeting priority.”
“Propulsion and weaponry if fire control can hit them. But just about any hit on that cutter will strike something important,” Rob said.
He had a strange sensation as Saber swooped toward her fleeing prey. Something like this had happened three years ago at Glenlyon. Only he had been commanding the cutter, trying to figure out how to both survive and defeat a destroyer that outmaneuvered and outgunned his own ship. Now he was on the superior warship, and it was the other crew that was trying to figure out how to survive.
Rob wondered why that moment of empathy didn’t bother him, then he remembered how many aboard the Squall had died because of Scatha, and that recently half the crew of Claymore had also been killed. Glenlyon didn’t want to fight. Scatha did, and the people Scatha had hired to crew its warships weren’t worried about whether or not they were aggressors. Crews who hadn’t worried about opening fire on Claymore without warning. Instead of sympathy for their plight, Rob felt a grim satisfaction in knowing that this time it was Scatha’s people who were in trouble.
Saber’s automated systems took that moment to pop up a checklist on Rob’s display. Engaging Lesser Warship In Overtaking Maneuver. “I thought we cleaned these checklists out of the systems.” He searched in vain for a “close” command. “How do I get rid of it?”
Lieutenant Cameron sounded apologetic. “You can’t, sir. It stays up until every item is checked.”
“Can’t I just check everything now?”
“No, sir. It’s tied in to the ship’s systems so it knows if you’ve done something or not.”
“How did you guys ever get anything done?” Rob complained as he moved the checklist as far to one side of the display as it would go.
“Getting things done wasn’t the point, sir,” Cameron said. “Filling out the checklist right was what counted.”
Lieutenant Commander Shen called up from engineering. “Captain Geary, the cutter is only putting out about seventy-five percent of what should be his maximum acceleration. It looks like that’s the best he can do.”
Rob smiled at hearing that the already sluggish Buccaneer was further handicapped by main propulsion that wasn’t able to operate at full strength. “Thank you,” Rob said. “Lieutenant Cameron, update the intercept using seventy-five percent maximum for the cutter.”
“Fifteen minutes to intercept on revised vector,” Ensign Reichert reported, an undercurrent of excitement in her voice.
“Captain,” the comms watch said, “the Bruce Monroe reports all crew and passengers are safe aboard her. The boarding party from the cutter left in a panic when they saw our arrival.”
“Has there been any response from the cutter?”
“No, Captain.”
Rob touched his comm link command. “Scathan warship, this is the Glenlyon destroyer Saber demanding that you surrender. Cease accelerating, drop your shields, and power down all weapons. If you do not comply immediately, we will use all necessary force. Acknowledge this message. Commander Geary, over.”
Five more minutes passed, Saber racing past and slightly above the Bruce Monroe as the freighter plodded along toward the jump point for Kosatka.
“What is that cutter doing?” Cameron wondered. “The Scathans know we’ll catch them.”
“They might be hoping that help will show up from the Kosatka jump point,” Rob said. “Or they might be planning to wait until we make one firing run and go on past them, before they turn and try to make the jump point for Glenlyon.”
“But we’re faster and more maneuverable. We’ll catch them again before they can do that.”
Rob nodded, feeling a tightness inside born of tension and the knowledge that his orders would soon result in more deaths. “Right. They don’t have any good options except surrender, and they’re not doing that.”
Another five minutes.
“Target is changing aspect,” Ensign Reichert reported. “He’s cut his main propulsion.”
That was expected. Standard tactics in space as the moment of combat approached was to swing the ship around so the bow, w
ith the strongest armor and shields, was facing the enemy. With the main propulsion off, the cutter would continue moving backward at an extremely high rate of speed while also turned toward the oncoming threat of Saber. But something didn’t look quite right.
“He made that move a little early,” Rob said. “How’s his bow lined up? Is he going to face us straight on at intercept?”
A moment passed while Lieutenant Cameron checked on his own and consulted with some enlisted specialists. “No, sir. Not straight on. He’ll be several degrees off.”
“What vector is he pointing toward?”
Another pause. “The jump point to Glenlyon.”
“Three minutes to intercept,” Reichert warned.
“Put the maneuvering systems on automatic adjustment for the intercept,” Rob ordered. “Bias them toward assuming the cutter will begin braking velocity just before we reach him.”
The former Earth Fleet officers might not be used to improvising in response to events, but they were very good at what they did. Rob saw control screens flashing past before his watch standers as they entered the changes. “Weapons are ready as ordered, Captain,” Ensign Reichert reported.
“Confirm that weapons are set to fire on automatic,” Rob said.
“Confirmed,” Ensign Reichert replied. “All weapons on automatic. One minute to intercept.”
“He’s lit off his main propulsion again!” Cameron warned a moment later.
The cutter, its propulsion facing in the direction the ship was going, was now using it to brake its velocity, suddenly altering the point of intercept. Humans would have had trouble calculating the changes and making the necessary inputs to Saber’s own maneuvering systems, but with everything on automatic the destroyer changed her own course swiftly enough to counter the enemy move.
The moment of combat came and went in a tiny fraction of a second, Saber’s two grapeshot launchers and three pulse particle cannons firing at a target that was there and gone far too swiftly for human reflexes to have reacted in time. Rob glared at the checklist that had placed itself in the center of his display again, shoving the checklist to one side a second time so he could see what was going on. “Give me another vector to intercept,” he ordered while waiting for Saber’s sensors to report on the outcome of the exchange of fire.
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