Rita Longknife--Enemy in Sight

by Mike Shepherd

  The pirate fleet, seventeen strong, set course for the next jump.

  It didn’t stay seventeen for long. The Brannigan’s Special Ale was the first to fall out, it’s engines unable to hold at 1.15 gees. Slowly it fell behind, it’s small crew begging them to come back for them.

  “We’ve got food. We’ve got ammo. You need us,” Constantine Odinkalu alternately begged and demanded. No one was willing to put themselves at risk.

  “Pick another jump, one further out in this system,” Grace suggested. “Take it and see where it leads you. With luck, the big bastards won’t follow you.”

  That at least shut them up. They headed for the farthest jump, but it didn’t do them any good. One of the two reactor types of the big fellow’s ships, took off after them. Ed’s jump master did the math. The big fellow would catch the Ale before it got out of the system.

  Whatever it did when it caught up with the human ship would not be observed by them, they’d be long gone into the next system.

  That left sixteen against eleven.

  Then the You Made My Day, a small converted freighter with only two 4-inch pop guns hollered that it’s second reactor was overheating. They begged for shuttles to take them off now while they were still in formation. Annie Bonney explained to them that no shuttle could keep up with a fleet at 1.1 gee. If it pulled away from one ship, it would never make it to another ship accelerating at that energy.

  Still, the crew begged to be allowed to get Day close enough to one ship so the shuttle trip would be only a quick dash.

  “You get close to any of us with a faulty reactor that could have you yawing all over the place and we’ll shoot you down where you stand,” Ed had to tell them.

  “Won’t any of you let us get close to you? Any of you with shuttles?”

  The silence was deafening.

  Their cursing was boring. Ed had the commlink broken with that one.

  So, a second ship joined the Brannigan’s Special Ale trying for the farthest jump.

  It was fifteen to eleven as they headed into the jump.

  They lost two more small ships crossing the next system. The bastards again detached a single one of their own to chase down the two wayward human ships.

  Three ships fell out the next system. For the first time, one of them was Ed’s.

  “You keep this up, shedding us like snake skin,” Captain Malmo Tarkus said, “and there won’t be anything left to fight with.”

  “I’m sorry, Tark, but the big ships have the bigger and stronger engines,” Ed said.

  “What are you going to do when one of your lovely ladies with a 6-incher in her pocket cries for help?”

  “The same thing he’s done when you boys, with six inches in your pockets holler,” Grace said.

  “I’ll see you in hell, lady.”

  “Make a run for the furthest jump, Tark. Who knows, you may get back to human space long before we do,” Ed said.

  Tark cut the comm before he said anything more.

  It was twelve to ten at the next jump.

  31

  Captain Edmon Lehrer was glad they didn’t lose any more ships crossing the next system. The shrunken pirate fleet was down to the three Darings and the better of the converted or captured merchant ships.

  The three cruisers had more 6-inch guns up and ready than they’d had when they started this crazy hunt for gold. It was amazing what a fleet of hostiles on your ass did to the motivation and creativity of a crew.

  They went through that jump at dead slow, with the big bastards not an hour behind them. In the Port Elgin system, Ed held his first council of war.

  “Anybody have any idea how we fight this thing? If you do, I’m all ears.”

  “Let’s stay here at the jump point. Shoot them as they come through,” Billy suggested.

  Ed’s jump master was shaking his head before Billy finished.

  “I’ve seen jumps dodge out twenty thousand klicks as you’re approaching them. I’ve heard of jumps that jumped a hundred thousand klicks in one move. We call ’em jumps for more reasons than one, you know. Boss, what’s the range of our 6-inchers?’

  Ed had read the book, though he’d never actually fired at another ship. “Supposedly 24,000 klicks, but don’t bet on them doing much good beyond 17,000.” He paused, then added. “So, there’s a good chance they could jump in beyond our best range and a long chance they could be way out of range.”

  “And Murphy says the worst will happen just when you don’t need it,” the jump master added, under his breath, but loud enough for the whole bridge to hear.

  Ed took a deep breath. He knew he ought to put it up to a vote. That was the pirate way. But he could see no other way than the one he was about to order.

  “Set course for Port Elgin. We’ll make our stand there. Begin a 1.1 gee acceleration on my mark.”

  Silence roared back at him.

  “Mark,” he said.

  We are committed.

  32

  “If something doesn’t happen soon,” Major General Ray Longknife said, “our forces are going to melt away.”

  “They already are,” Rita said. In this meeting, she sat at his elbow. Or maybe he sat at hers. It would be unwise of him to try to clarify that. Beck Graven provided the political insight from where she sat at Rita’s elbow.

  Ray hadn’t failed to note how Rita always managed to sit between him and the ambassador. Was Rita protecting her turf?

  On Ray’s other side was the new addition to their inner group. Trevor Crossenshield was their new Chief of Intelligence. He did seem to know a lot, and had done a good job of correlating all the information flooding into Savannah about strange things, ranging from missing scout ships to a two-headed snake being seen on Hurtford.

  Ray found himself wondering if that two-headed snake had any better luck deciding where to go than the rest of humanity.

  Across from Ray sat Trouble and his very pregnant wife. Trouble had a division of light infantry in advanced training and another one coming up. His wife provided the law enforcement point of view.

  They were still debating whether pirates should be shot on sight or offered a chance to surrender and face a trial.

  Again, that two-headed snake syndrome.

  “The pair of cruisers we got from Lorna Do, the Lion and the Puma, are getting ready to head back home,” Rita reported. “We’ll miss their 8-inch guns, but with no ships going missing and no colonies attacked . . .” Rita ended with a shrug.

  “I guess they think we were shouting ‘wolf’,” Becky said.

  “And New Eden is making noises they want their Vampire and Fury back,” Rita added.

  Ray eyed the screen on the wall behind his wife. It showed the four Wardhaven super heavies, like the Astute that they were meeting on. All five of the Ramble class scout cruisers were out now. The Exeter was due in soon with the Northampton, both 8-inch heavies. Their yard period had been extended by a strike at the Nuu docks at High Wardhaven. The post war expansion was not meeting everyone’s expectations and some workers were demanding their share of it.

  Ray sighed. He liked democracy much more than the dictatorship it replaced. Still, it was messy.

  “Anybody have any idea what we do to keep our forces together?” Becky asked no one in particular.

  “Do we let more folks know about the aliens out there?” came from Ruth Tordon, who was working hard at earning the nickname Mrs. Trouble. She was the latest one to learn of the aliens out there, and seemed really bothered by them.

  “I want my kid to grow up,” was her comeback when pushed.

  “We’re being looked at as the kid who cried ‘pirate’,” her husband said. “Would we have any better luck hollering ‘alien,’ without producing a few?”

  “Anyone want to dress up in an alien suit?” Crossenshield said. He didn’t like to be called Crossie.

  “Crossie, suggestions like that are going to make us wonder how intelligent our intelligence is,” Rita said.


  She’d taken an immediate dislike to the man. “Is he with us or reporting back to some cabal on Earth?” she demanded of Ray.

  Ray, having no better an answer to that question than she did, had only shrugged. “Short of not inviting our intel chief to meetings, what can we do?”

  Crossie got invited to all meetings, but that didn’t mean Rita liked it. Or him.

  Four commlinks beeped at the same time. Ray, Rita, Trouble and Crossie all tapped their wrist units.

  “We got trouble,” came in a three-part echo from three different sources.

  Crossie’s said, “Boss, you won’t believe the shit we got coming in.”

  “Talk to me,” Rita said to her communication’s officer.

  “Ma’am, we just had a ship jump into the system hollering all kinds of stuff that would get his comm license revoked, but the gist of it is that there are aliens right behind him. Aliens that have slaughtered human colonists.”

  “Is this on a public channel?” Rita asked her comm chief.

  Becky nodded. “My folks have it, too. They’re picking up all kinds of chatter. Uh, oh, it just broke on a news channel. Make that three. No, all of them.”

  Ray gave his silent intel chief a gimlet eye.

  “I can verify all that,” he said.

  “Sensors,” Rita said. “Talk to me about this new ship in system.”

  “We make it out to be a former Daring class cruiser. It’s in pretty bad shape, maybe half of the main battery is operational. Though, considering that none of those lasers are supposed to be usable, that might not be a bad accomplishment,” she said, dryly.

  “Its engines are overheated. I’d say he’s been running fast and long. No telling how long, though. Oh, and its course is for the Alpha Jump out of here. He’s not coming to the station.”

  “Thanks. XO, are there any ships in system that could intercept him?”

  “No, ma’am. Unless some ship comes through Alpha, we got nothing. The Exeter and the Northampton are due in tomorrow. They might catch him on the other side.”

  “Comm, send to that ship. Tell it to report to the station here. Tell them that if they don’t come in, we will intercept them. Also, Comm, send to Exeter. Be on the lookout for a fast running former Daring. Apprehend it. Comm, do we know what that ship is squawking?”

  “No, ma’am. They throttled their squawker before they came in system.”

  “That’s illegal,” Becky said.

  “Under Society regulations,” Crossenshield put in. “Out on the rim, they didn’t require that.”

  “But we’re all good members of Society now,” Ray said with a grin. As the man credited with the death of President Urm and the sudden end to the Unity War with the Society, his new attitude wasn’t lost on the meeting.

  “Comm, send to the unidentified ship in system. Tell them that they are in violation of Society regs, having turned off their recognition repeater and will immediately come to the station so it can be repaired.”

  “Oh, they’re going to love that, if that’s a pirate ship like I’m betting,” Trouble said, with a chortle.

  “Brigadier, how fast can you mount up a force, and how big?” Ray said.

  Trouble was all serious business as he faced Ray. “I’ve already put my troopers on alert, sir. The 1st regiment is ready to move out any time you can provide shuttles to lift them to the station. The 2nd and 3rd should be ready by 0600 tomorrow.”

  Ray turned to Rita. “How fast can you get your cruisers away from the pier?”

  “My squadron is ready now, sir,” she snapped. “Quarters were rather roomy for the one company you put aboard them last time. May I suggest we try for two?”

  “Trouble?”

  “I’d say there’s room for three companies per ship, ma’am, if you got the air for us. I can have a regiment aboard as fast as you can provide lift.”

  “Comm here,” came on Rita’s link. “The Lion and Puma have reversed course and are headed back to the station. The Rambling Gal and Rambling Rose are in system and headed for the station. We’re sending out recall signals to the Rambling Road, Rambling Guy, and Rambling Star.”

  “They are all within four or five jumps,” Crossie put in. “Say a week or less to get here. The Concord, out of Wardhaven is also in that range,” he added.

  “Comm, send to Concord. ‘We’re throwing a party with some pirates and saving you a place close to the bar. Longknife sends’,” Rita said.

  Crossie was going down a list. “The Vampire and Fury from Pitt’s Hope are a bit further afield.”

  One glance from Ray, and Rita was inviting them to the party as well.

  “So,” Ray said. “Do we rush out with what we have, or wait until we’ve got a full force?”

  “That stranger came in the Delta Jump,” Rita said. “That’s the jump we used to chase the Brannigan’s Special Ale through to LeMonte.”

  Ray grimaced. “There were a lot of nice people, but I didn’t see anything like planetary defenses.”

  Ray breathed out, searched for his center. It was good to hit your enemy with a weighted blow. It was also good not to let a lot of civilians get murdered. He didn’t have to look around the table to know that he was senior officer present.

  Rita and Trouble’s rank were local honors, handed out, possibly illegally, by the planets that sent them to work. His rank came straight from Earth. That honor might have been awarded for a murder he hadn’t committed, but, however you counted it, it was senior rank and from a source all present had to salute.

  “We go with the most we can put together as quickly as we can. Rally point for all troops and ships will be Port Elgin. Becky, can you arrange with the Savannah President for us to commandeer a couple of troop transports? Trouble, how many regiments do you have ready to move out?”

  Trouble had on his war face. “Three are combat ready. Two more are able to meet ship movements with their weapons. I wouldn’t count on them to maneuver under fire, but if they are dug in, they can defend.”

  No doubt, that defense would be a bloody affair.

  “Defend is all I intend to do,” Ray said.

  “Then defend we will.”

  “Rita?”

  “I’d recommend that we wait long enough for the two cats to join us. That would give us six heavy cruisers and two light ones. Trouble can load four battalions on them. Becky, we need lift for eight battalions and support elements.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” the ambassador said, and walked over to a corner of the room where she’d likely catch less of the conversation and pass it along to the political heart of the planet beneath them.

  No doubt, she would also tell tactful, diplomatic lies if necessary.

  Eighteen hours later, the Astute led out seven heavy cruisers, and the Patton, along with six transports loaded with troops, drop shuttles, and supplies.

  It had been a hectic time with hardly a moment to think.

  Now, with the force committed, Ray had time to consider.

  He’d wanted to talk to the aliens. Had he thrown that option to the wind? And a bloody wind at that?

  He would know soon enough.

  33

  Acting Brigadier General Terence Tordon by name, but Trouble to everyone he knew, stood on the bridge of the Astute as it closed towards an orbit on the unregistered colony of LeMonte.

  The planet had not answered any of the hails the fleet had sent.

  Worse, Sensors reported no activity on any electronic spectrum. “There’s nothing there for us to sense,” she had said.

  Trouble doubted he was the only one with a sick feeling in his gut.

  It had started the moment they jumped into this system. Sensors had reported reactors. Plenty of them. All headed for the jump farthest from them. As their fleet jumped in, that fleet jumped out.

  Not one of the reactors on those ships had a signature that matched one made anywhere in human space.

  That was one question. The bigger question, however, was what ha
d they done here? What had they left behind?

  “Trouble, prepare a drop mission,” Major General Longknife said from where he stood beside his wife who sat, intently eyeing the fleet’s status from her commodore’s command chair.

  “You might want to get your troops moving to drop stations before we go to zero gee in orbit,” the commodore advised.

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Trouble said. You could take the Marine out of the Corp, but you couldn’t take the Corp out of the Marine, he thought, and moved to implement his orders.

  The drop went smoothly, as he’d expected. The bosuns on the cruiser’s long boats were well trained. His two best battalions provided the troops.

  There was no opposition from the ground.

  There was nothing from the ground.

  Trouble was aboard the first shuttle to ground. That wasn’t SOP, but the guy who wrote the SOP book was writing for the average moron in command.

  Trouble didn’t consider himself a moron.

  He also didn’t consider himself prone to weeping, but he had to fight back tears.

  Trouble had walked this street before, not a month ago. Then the dirt road had been lined with huts. Mothers sat in the shade, husking rice. Kids ran in the endless games they played, those that weren’t old enough to care for the new crop of babies or help mom. In the fields beyond, men and women, old and young had planted a crop here or harvested a field there.

  All Trouble saw were bodies today.

  Old bodies. Young bodies. Large bodies. Small bodies. Tiny bodies.

  Some had died from gunshot wounds. Others had been, what was the old saying, put to the sword.

  It looked like a few had fought. He’d seen men and woman in his last visit practicing their martial arts. He forgot the name they used for it, Ty Won Ko, or something. Beside a few bodies there was blood. Too much blood for one human.

  Apparently, whoever had done this had taken their dead with them. Or maybe they’d buried them here. He’d have to order a search.