“Something from the Bluebird?” Liam asked as he poured a cup of coffee and fumbled with the sugar.
“No, she was completely silent. It was from the station, but what caught my attention was the encoding. It was Sectoid-style encryption.”
“Sectoids on the station? I’m surprised we didn’t hear about that. We certainly didn’t see any.”
“It was sent from the upper levels, so a bit out of your way.”
“Hmm.” Something twigged in Liam’s memory, but it was too fleeting to catch. It would come to him later, he was sure. And he had other, more pressing things to take care of now. He headed for the door, coffee in hand. “Good work, Charlotte. Keep digging and let me know what else you uncover.”
Liam’s instincts about his crew told him exactly where to head next. Sailors reacted differently to disciplinary measures. Some went straight to the bar to drown their sorrows, some went straight to their racks to hide away. And some buried themselves in work. As he poked his head into the supply office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Amelia Virtue seated at her console, working furiously.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. She looked up, her shoulders stiffening at the sight of him. After a moment she made to rise, but he motioned her back down and took the seat next to her. He handed her the coffee.
“I don’t take sugar,” he said with a smile, “so I had to guess how much you like.”
She took the drink, breathing in the steam before trying a sip.
“Not bad, sir. Thanks.”
He sat back, folding his hands in his lap. She didn’t meet his gaze, busying herself with the coffee for a few moments before finally setting it down. Her complexion was pale, he noticed, and her shoulders sagged. But she collected herself and forced her eyes up.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
What indeed? A few things leaped to mind, but he forced himself to sit back and keep distance between them. Her physical presence was intoxicating, and the way she looked at him, even now, made his heart melt. Romance aboard ship was an accepted reality within the Navy, but senior officers were supposed to be above such things—duty to the Empire, and all that. The silence stretched uncomfortably in the supply office. Liam knew he needed to speak, and with a titanic effort he made his decision and forced the words from his mouth.
To the Abyss with duty.
“Amelia, I’d like to speak without ranks.”
She stared back at him, struggling to keep her expression neutral.
“All right,” she said.
“Let’s put aside the captain’s reaction to the incident ashore, and let’s put aside the punishment. I don’t want to talk about that.” The words stuck in his throat, and he pushed them out. “I want to talk about how I feel.”
New emotion welled up in her eyes, but she said nothing.
“I’m not happy about you kissing Highcastle.”
“I’m not too pleased about it either.”
“Really?” The sudden delight he felt was surprising for its intensity.
“I don’t like having a week’s pay taken from me.” She shrugged. “And now I assume Cadet Highcastle is going to be pestering me.”
“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
She folded her arms and sat back, eyeing him intently.
“And why is that, sir?”
“No ranks, Amelia.”
She hesitated, clearly struggling.
“Why are you protecting me . . . Liam?”
“Because I think you’re a wonderful person,” he responded simply.
A touch of her old grin flashed across her face. It gave him confidence.
“And,” he continued, “I’d like to think that our relationship might be more than professional.”
Her expression softened, but she clearly wrestled with conflicting emotions. “I’d . . . like that too,” she said carefully. “But, Liam . . . I don’t know if it’s worth the trouble.”
“The incident with Highcastle is different. It was a silly mistake, caused by alcohol.”
She blinked, her expression hardening. “No, it wasn’t,” she said flatly. “He wanted to get up and follow you. You gave me orders to keep him at that table. I didn’t have a lot of other ways to distract him.”
Liam was as surprised by this revelation as he was by the cold calculation behind it.
“Yes, but . . . surely you could have restrained yourself to flirting.”
“I’m not trained in your courtly ways,” she snapped with sudden anger. “I don’t know how to dance, or prance, or whatever it is you people do.”
“What do you mean—we people?” His tone sharpened. “I’ve watched you flirt with every civilian from the merchant kings to the loading boys.”
“Yes, and it works, doesn’t it? I’ve learned from the best!”
They stared at each other for a moment, neither giving ground. Then she sighed.
“I’ve watched our little world in this ship. Apart from the captain—who no one understands, by the way—we have five officers on board. Four of them, including you, lead with charisma and charm, and yes, flirting when it’s necessary. Only one officer focuses entirely on getting her job done. And while Charlotte Brown may be the most competent officer on board, she’s also the least liked. I’m just following the lead of my superiors. Sir.”
“So . . . this is all just a game?”
“You tell me.”
He paused, searching for the right words.
“It’s a game for some,” he admitted. “For Highcastle, definitely. For Templegrey, most likely. But not for me.”
A long silence hung between them. “I’ll admit you do seem a little different,” she finally said. She didn’t seem angry anymore, but a touch wary, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. She studied him a moment longer. “So,” she said finally, “what do we do now?”
He met her gaze with new confidence. “I’d like to get to know you better, with no ranks.”
She relaxed visibly, a smile playing at her lips. “That seems like a good plan to me.”
“Just do me a favor?” he said. “Stay clear of Highcastle.”
The beginnings of her smile faded. “I will, with pleasure. But I’m sure you understand that if he wants me physically I don’t have much choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Oh, really?” Her face contorted in sudden contempt. She stabbed a finger in his chest. “You think, as a commoner, I have a choice when a nobleman decides to have his way with me? If Highcastle had been determined to lay me out on the table in that tavern, do you think I could have stopped him?”
“What?” Liam was stunned by the sudden outburst, and by her implications. “Of course you could. We have regulations against that—and our Empire has laws.”
“Do you believe those regulations and laws truly apply to nobles?” she scoffed. “He could have done whatever he wanted to me—and nothing would have happened to him. More likely I’d have been blamed. So thank you for returning when you did—and thank you for clobbering him—but don’t tell me I have a choice.”
Liam reached out and put his hand over hers, struggling to find the words.
“Amelia, you’re always protected. I’ll ensure that.”
“Why, because I’m yours?” She withdrew her hand, crossing her arms defensively. “Is this all because Lord Highcastle tried to storm your little estate? Are you, Lord Blackwood, intending to require physical services from this common sailor?”
He felt like he’d been struck. Her anger was visceral, and deep, and it burned into him.
“Of course not,” he managed to say. “Amelia . . . this has nothing to do with rank, or noble title.”
“Yes it does! You just don’t see it because you wield both with such unconscious familiarity. Do you really think Lord Highcastle would be punished if he raped a sailor? Do you think you would?”
She sat tensed in the chair. Liam suddenly realized that she was rea
dy to defend herself. And with good reason, he admitted, recognizing with new clarity the vast difference between their positions in society.
“I’m not going to demand anything from you,” he said firmly.
She stared at him, eyes searching his. She took a deep, shuddering breath and relaxed back slightly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being unfair to you. You’ve always been a perfect gentleman.”
“But I know that my fellow gentlemen don’t always live up to their titles.”
“No,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry.” He knew as he said them that words were inadequate. “For . . . for our entire society.”
She laughed a bit at that, then reached out and took both his hands in hers.
“Thank you for coming to speak to me. And for bringing me a coffee.”
Her hands were warm in his, and he was very aware of her closeness.
“Amelia,” he said in a low voice, drawing back slightly. “I’m not going to force anything here. I want you to be comfortable, and—”
She closed the distance between them, and then her lips were on his.
Chapter 17
“Excellent work, Sublieutenant Brown,” Liam declared, loudly enough that the entire bridge could hear.
If what Amelia said was true, and Brown was the least-respected officer on board simply because she was the least charming, Liam was now determined to make a habit of publicly recognizing her for her strengths. And she had many.
Not only had she isolated that mysterious Sectoid signal from Windfall Station, and not only had she figured out how to identify the Sectoid drones lurking in the blackness, but she had even managed to find an interior layout for the class of ship to which their current prey Bluebird belonged. Projecting the image from her officer-of-the-watch station, she had just finished describing it to the boarding party.
It was unusual to have the entire team assembled on the bridge, with the clatter of their armor as they shifted their stances, but this was an unusual mission. Visible dead ahead was the lumbering pirate ship, sails fluttering in an uncertain beam breeze. Daring had been intercepting for more than a day, tacking back and forth to maximize speed even though efficiency suffered. Swift had advised that the hull really wasn’t up to another pitched battle, and the steady maneuvering had put audible strain on the starboard mast.
“We’ll be boarding here and here.” Liam indicated a pair of emergency airlocks at Bluebird’s stern. “The target for both teams is the bridge, and the ship’s memory core. We must hold this entire deck”—he pointed at the highest afterdeck—“to ensure our escape route. Once we have what we need, we withdraw.”
Chief Sky took over the brief, reminding everyone of their specific roles. Liam watched the restless anticipation of his boarding team, and noticed several glances from both Flatrock and Hedge toward Highcastle. When Sky concluded and asked for any questions, it was the cadet’s voice that broke the silence.
“I think there’d be a handsome amount of booty on a pirate ship that size,” he said. “It would be a shame to leave it behind.”
“We fully expect the pirate crew to move to defend their cargo,” Liam replied, “and that will play to our advantage. For this mission, our goal is information, not booty.”
There was a rustle among the boarding party, but no one spoke.
“I’d like to think we could do both,” Highcastle sniffed. “It’d be a shame to leave all that cargo for the Sectoids to collect at their leisure.”
It was no secret that at least two Sectoid drones were nearby, and no one doubted that the Sectoid ship itself was still in the sector. Liam understood the crew’s frustration, but what was frustrating him personally was the fact that this noble toff seemed to be growing into the crew’s spokesperson.
“Well,” Liam said with a smile, “if the information we recover indicates Sectoid involvement with these pirates, we’ll know exactly where to go to get the cargo back.”
This drew a few laughs, and silenced Highcastle.
“Get to the boats,” Sky commanded, “and make sure you take the right seat. These civilian tubs are laid out differently.”
The boarding party began to gaggle toward the ladder. With a single glance at Virtue, Liam turned back to Brown.
“Where are the Sectoid probes?”
“Here”—she pointed at her chart—“and here. Both are more or less matching Bluebird’s course and speed.”
“So likely they know where she is.”
“Yes, sir.”
He approached the command chair, where Riverton had been watching the entire brief in silence.
“We’re ready, ma’am. But we can’t guarantee that the Sectoids won’t see this.”
“That can’t stop us,” she said, glancing at her own display. “We need this information.”
“Permission to board the pirates, ma’am?”
“Granted. Good luck.”
Liam took one final look at the looming form of Bluebird ahead. The pirates hadn’t altered course, but were no doubt aware of the merchant ship that had been slowly gaining on them. It wasn’t unusual for ships to meet coincidentally in deep space, especially in the trade lanes, but Daring was now getting uncomfortably close.
The pair of boats Swift had managed to secure at Windfall were larger than Daring’s originals, with wide beams and a lower canopy. Small storage compartments were built into the deck and the boarding team were scattered in seats squeezed between empty fixtures. These had been yard boats, Liam guessed, hardworking tenders that were capable of taking a pounding. As he felt them push off from Daring’s hull and thrust out into the open space between the two sailing ships, he hoped they were up for a new kind of work.
As Daring fell astern, Liam watched the squat stern of Bluebird for any change. The big ship appeared unmoving in the abyss, her sails fluttering in the unfavorable winds. Her masts showed no signs of retracting—a dead giveaway to hostile intent—and no signs of activity changed the face of her hull. Looking back, he saw that Daring had nosed to starboard as if on another tack but also opening the bearing for her foremost gunports. The beam turrets were manned, he knew, but in low power so as not to alert any possible sensors lurking within the pirate ship.
The pirate hull loomed ahead. Liam scanned closely for any signs of opening ports or emerging gun barrels. Merchant ships this size often had both bow and stern cannon, to guard against precisely this sort of attack. But he saw nothing.
A bang suddenly shook the boat hull. Liam searched Bluebird’s stern anew, but saw no movement or flashes. A pair of impacts, smaller than the first, struck the clear canopy.
“There!” Virtue shouted, pointing up at the very top of the stern.
Quick movement revealed at least three suited figures moving on the hull, each carrying weapons. As Liam watched, one of them took aim and fired. Another pair of slugs rapped against the boat’s canopy, and this time a shard of discoloration began to seep across the clear surface.
“Get us alongside,” Liam roared.
The boat’s thrusters went to maximum, pushing Liam back in his seat, but the lumbering civilian vessel had none of the quick response Liam was used to. More shots struck the canopy, and new slivers began to appear. He heard the first, ominous snap of air pressure against weakening glass. Master Rating Faith rolled the boat, presenting the strong hull to the pirate shooters as an increasing volley rained down. Liam watched the now-inverted form of Bluebird approach, and he strained to catch a glimpse of the other boat as it fired its thrusters to slow and pivot against its target airlock. Flashes of fire bounced off its hull, then canopy, as it maneuvered into position.
Liam gripped his chair and hung on as his own boat swung violently, lining up its hull with Bluebird’s and barreling in. The thrusters fired again, pushing him down until the boat slammed into its target. Shots peppered the canopy, and cracks were visibly appearing. Without waiting for an order, Hunter ripped open the boat’s hatch and sna
pped open the airlock. The awful hiss of escaping air flooded the boat.
“Go, go, go!” Liam shouted.
His sailors piled through the airlock with practiced efficiency as more shots cracked down on the boat. Liam felt his ears pop and saw a new crack spider out from an impact.
“I don’t have a seal,” Faith cried. “I can’t hold up snug for long.”
The boat shuddered as the thrusters pushed it hard against the hull, and Liam heard creaking as the metal in the airlock twisted under the strain.
A flash of energy blinded him. He blinked it away in time to see another energy beam cut across Bluebird’s stern and blast one of the shooters. He glanced up, back to where Daring was turning again, both forward beam turrets picking off the pirates. It was enough for a reprieve, but as the last of the boarding team disappeared through the hatch, Liam grabbed Hunter and Faith.
“This tub won’t last—you’re with us!”
Another, larger slug smashed into the boat’s gunnel, visibly buckling the metal. His boat’s crew needed no further encouragement, scrambling through the airlock. With a last glance at Sky’s boat—which looked intact—Liam was close behind them.
The wind was strong in the airlock tube as air escaped. As he crossed from boat to ship Liam saw the cracks in the casing, and he kept blinking to clear his vision. The glow of the thruster exhaust beyond lit his way, but then faded into darkness. Even as he watched, the cracks started to grow wider, and as his boat began to drift away he felt the frigidness of deep space claw at him. With his own eyes he glimpsed the distant stars in the Abyss.
Then hands grabbed him and hauled him through the disintegrating tube. A hatch slammed shut and he collapsed to the hard deck, gasping for air. Thunder filled his ears as pressure returned and he wiped away the ice on his cheeks and eyelids where tears had fought to protect his eyes against the vacuum. He struggled to rise, disoriented by the lights and sounds all around him.
Something big slammed into him, and he crashed against a bulkhead. Still clearing his vision, he caught a glimpse of a Theropod snout, then a padded Human fist smacking it back. A sword slashed down and the Theropod squealed in pain as it collapsed in a bloody heap. Another face filled his view.
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