At his knock on her cabin door, Riverton bid him enter. He slipped through into the darkened space, seeing her in her usual seat at the dining table. He had been giving her as much space as he could, but they had arranged for one regular meeting each day in the afternoon.
A yellow shawl covered the shoulders of her uniform shirt, and her long, black hair fell loosely over the silk. She was leaning forward on her forearms, but her posture was more upright than it had been yesterday. Her dark eyes regarded him with much of their old strength, no longer clouded by pain.
“XO,” she greeted him with the hint of a smile. “Please sit down.”
“Captain,” he said, taking the chair across from her. “Operations are proceeding well.”
He gave her a brief on all aspects of the ship, answering her few questions. The update took barely five minutes, but he sensed that she was in no hurry for him to leave.
“Is there anything I can do for you, ma’am?”
“You’re doing an excellent job,” she said. “Simply accept my thanks.”
“I’m merely preparing the ship for your return to full duty—which I suspect will be very soon. You’re looking much better today, ma’am.”
“I’m feeling better, no doubt thanks to Dr. Templegrey’s efforts.”
“The doctor would appreciate hearing that, I think,” he said, then relayed his recent conversation on the bridge.
“She knows that we consider her and Highcastle to be close.” Riverton sighed. “They know each other through their family connections.”
“But that’s completely unconnected to her performance in this ship.”
“Yes, but the high nobility don’t make that distinction. In their world, family connections count for everything. Ava is worried that we’re going to lump her in with that little traitor through mere association.” At Liam’s silence, Riverton offered a smile. “I don’t intend to do that.”
“Ava is a loyal, competent officer,” Liam said, feeling an unexpected flash of relief. “I assess she had no hand in Highcastle’s scheme.”
“I agree. And I notice you’ve pressed no charges against the three sailors he brought with him to the bridge.”
“Petty Officer Virtue was simply caught up in events,” he said quickly. “To her credit, she’s the one who called me to the bridge.”
“No, I’m not worried about her.” Her eyebrow arched slightly. “Don’t worry.”
“The coxn has interviewed Flatrock and Hedge, as have I. It’s our opinion that they were both merely caught up in Highcastle’s populist charm and hoped that he might make their lives easier. They saw in him a champion for the common sailor—but they never expected him to attempt mutiny. I saw it in their faces when Highcastle made his declaration, and neither of them moved to help him in the moment of crisis.”
“To think a spoiled, selfish, wealthy toff could be seen as a champion of the common person,” Riverton scoffed. “Ridiculous.”
“It’s interesting how some people perceive things,” Liam replied. “When considering either a noble or an officer, they often just follow whoever they personally like best.”
“As both a noble and an officer,” Riverton said, leaning back and folding her arms, “I’ve never sought popularity. It’s best to lead through competence.”
“As a noble and an officer, I agree,” Liam said carefully. He stared across the table at her for a long moment, then forced himself to continue. “But as a captain, one is held to a higher standard. A captain has to do more than lead—a captain has to inspire.”
The silence in the cabin stretched on. Riverton’s dark gaze was unchanging. Liam felt the heat rising under his uniform.
“So, you are saying,” she said finally, “that I do not inspire the crew.”
“You have their loyalty, absolutely. They will follow you into the Abyss and back.”
“But they will do so out of duty to the Emperor, not to me.”
Liam tried to judge her expression, but it was as inscrutable as ever.
“You are seen as . . . a distant figure, ma’am. The crew don’t know you, nor what to make of you.”
“A certain distance between a commander and her crew is valuable, I would think.”
“Yes, ma’am. But ideally there is a connection despite that distance. It’s always a fine balance, as you know. Highcastle took it too far one way.”
“And I take it too far the other?”
“It is not for me to tell my captain how to command her ship.”
She laughed out loud, her entire face brightening. “And yet, you have just done precisely that.”
“The crew is loyal,” he reemphasized, “but there is also a lot of talk. Everyone knows about the attempted mutiny, and your wounding; such events always shake a crew. Your absence from view these past few days, while necessary, has unfortunately not helped matters. I’ve heard reports that some of the crew are openly wondering if you’re even still alive.”
“What?” Riverton seemed appalled by his words.
“There was a rumor floating around—which we have quashed—that you’d died from your wounds and we’re just pretending you’re still alive to keep the Sectoids from attacking us.”
Riverton considered this in silence.
“And I suppose,” she said finally, “that to the crew I am hardly martyr material.”
“I would recommend, ma’am, that as soon as you feel up to it, you do an informal tour of the ship. Perhaps when Templegrey is off watch so that she can accompany you. She is popular with the crew and can handle any situation.”
“No, if I walk around with an attendant doctor, it will only fuel rumors about my health.” She thought for a moment. “Arrange for Virtue to accompany me. She has a common touch, and if I’m seen touring the ship with one of the so-called mutineers, it will send a strong message that no grudges are being held.”
“An excellent suggestion, ma’am,” Liam said with real sincerity.
“Please don’t sound so surprised,” she said with a new smile. “I was in the diplomatic corps, after all.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And on that,” she said suddenly. “Has anyone other than you been communicating with the Sectoids?”
“Only senior staff, in the course of their duties. Virtue for stores, Swift for engineering.”
“Communicating effectively with the other races takes a very specific skill,” she said. “Speech must be simple and clear—no nuances, no hidden meanings.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Liam had no criticism to offer of Riverton’s diplomatic skills, especially now that he fully understood everything she’d been doing in the background while still commanding this mission. All those secret meetings ashore, feeding vital intelligence about the pirates to build the case to the Emperor that the Sectoids were not the enemy everyone assumed they were. Trying to find evidence that the Sectoids were interested in exactly the same things as the Navy—stopping the pirates and protecting their own people.
No regular Navy officer, Liam included, would have ever dreamed of pursuing such a theory. But Sophia Riverton, diplomat and captain, had supposed the unthinkable and gone on to prove it.
“I’ll reiterate your instructions, ma’am.”
“Diplomacy with the other races is a very different game from diplomacy between our Human worlds and noble houses.” She nodded thoughtfully to herself, then eyed Liam. “I suppose I have to work harder at dealing with Humans. In many ways we’re more complicated than any of the other races.”
“You were obviously an exceptional diplomat, ma’am,” Liam said, gesturing vaguely toward where they both knew the Sectoid ship loomed nearby. “We would never be here were you not.”
“Yes. But now I need to become a better captain.” She looked squarely at Liam. “And I’ve had an exceptional example to emulate.”
He sat back, truly surprised.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Chapter 21
The view from the bri
dge was very dark. One half of the sky was clearly visible, with thousands of distant pinpricks of starlight heading out into the Abyss. But the other half of the sky—the one where the reassuring glow of the Hub should have been—was nothing but a black wall of Sectoid ship. At this range the hulking vessel easily blocked the light from the millions of stars, casting Daring into a deep shadow.
Which was perfect, Liam thought, checking the range to the comet high above them. This was the second distant orbit the two ships had made of the pirate base, and no doubt pirate observers would by now have noticed the giant bug ship moving over them. But no one would be able to spot the tiny Human ship hidden in the shadow. It had taken some skilled sailing to maintain this station on the Sectoid vessel through two huge orbits, and Liam was proud of his crew.
“We’re approaching the edge of our sector, sir,” Brown reported. “I’ll be coming left to open and fall back.”
“Very well,” Liam replied. Years of habit forced him to check his own display to confirm Brown’s assessment, but as always, the young sublieutenant was right. She had taken over the watch from Templegrey thirty minutes ago, and she would likely not move from her station for the next half day. Liam couldn’t think of a better person to entrust the ship to.
The view through the canopy shifted as Daring steered to port and fell slowly back in relation to the Sectoid ship, dropping deep into the shadow once more.
He pulled out his telescope and scanned the distant comet again. So this was the dark star they’d been hunting. The pirate base was clearly visible as a white scar on the dark surface where structures had been dug in and had displaced the thin surface of black dust. Careful observations had revealed at least four ships in low orbit with short sails.
On the first pass Liam had reported Daring’s discoveries to the Sectoid ship and asked for confirmation, but the response had been simply an acknowledgment. Then a question asking how Daring could detect such things. It was an interesting bit of intelligence on how limited the Sectoids’ visual sensors were.
But on this second orbit, the Sectoids had launched a pair of drone ships to half the distance. They had reported four heat sources on the surface that appeared separate from the main base, strongly indicating four more ships docked. Nothing Daring had on board could have detected those ships, and any smugness Liam might have felt at his race’s superior eyesight was dashed.
“Signal from the Sectoid,” called one of the crewmen from his station. “They are starting their descent to the comet.”
“Send acknowledgment,” Liam replied. “Ms. Brown, maintain station for the descent.”
“Estimate one hour until breakaway,” she reported.
Both ships were moving out of sight of the pirate base, but unlike the previous orbit, where they maintained their distance, now they were sailing inward to close the comet. Across the blind side of this little world, the new allies would separate and commence their individual attacks.
It was time to inform the captain and start final preparations. He reached for his comms panel.
“Summon the crew to the bridge,” said a new voice behind him.
He turned. Riverton was in her full uniform, taking slow but steady strides across the bridge. Liam smiled, amazed at the uncanny ability of a good ship’s captain to know instinctively when to go to the bridge.
As Brown repeated the order to gather all hands, Liam climbed down from the command chair, offering Riverton his hand to help her up. Surprisingly, she took it.
“How are you feeling, ma’am?” he asked.
“How do I look?” she replied simply.
In her full uniform she cut an impressive figure, and with only her face and hands visible, the pale undertone of her dark skin was barely noticeable. Her eyes were as bright as ever.
“Like a captain who is in command,” he said.
The crew was mustering in the open deck behind the officer-of-the-watch station, all eyes on Riverton. No one spoke as more sailors climbed up the ladder and joined the crowd. Soon all but the barest skeleton crew in propulsion were gathered. Liam couldn’t help but seek out Amelia’s smiling face, and while nothing more than a glance passed between them, he felt his spirits lift.
Riverton turned her chair to face the crew. She sat straight, knees together and hands on armrests.
“Men and women of His Majesty’s Sailing Ship Daring,” she said, her voice carrying easily across the entire bridge, “this is a great day. Today we will achieve what no one else has been able to do. Our own Navy couldn’t do it.” She gestured at the hulking Sectoid ship. “The other races couldn’t do it. Only we, the men and women of Daring, were able to find this base. And now we are going to capture it, and take the spoils of war.”
A few nods and approving glances rippled through the crew.
“Our plan is unorthodox,” Riverton continued, “but I think you’re all used to that by now. We will outsmart the pirates and, when the time comes, outfight them. We will take back what they have stolen, and we will make it clear to all in this sector of space what happens when you challenge His Majesty’s rule of law. We will reassert the authority of our Empire and bring honor both to ourselves and to our ship.”
More nods, and even a few smiles.
“This is our time, to prove what we are really made of. Everything we have worked for has led us to this and—despite what one former member of this crew said—this is exactly where I intended us to be.” She pointed up at the distant comet.
Her words brought new determination, Liam could see, and even relief on a few faces.
“All past differences are behind us,” she declared, “and all doubts are gone. We are one crew, with one purpose, and this is our moment to prove to all who we really are.
“We must be brave. We must be bold.” She smiled. “We must be Daring.”
A roar of laughter filled the bridge, followed by a ragged cheer.
With a nod from Riverton, Liam stepped forward.
“We’re an hour from deployment,” he called out over the hubbub. “Propulsors, man your masts. Gunners, ready your broadside. Everyone else, prepare the attack barge. Let’s get ready to give them a surprise!”
Swift had managed to rig a collection of sensors from the boat stores, but Liam felt uncomfortably blind as he hung on to the back of the single seat. The boat coxn, Master Rating Faith, was hooked into the seat, thruster controls mounted on both sides. His hands hovered over those controls, his eyes glued to the basic information being fed from the sensors lashed to the barge’s outer hull.
Liam watched the numbers count down as the barge started to get a solid return on the surface of the comet below. The rate of descent was within the mission parameters, but lacking his usual instruments, Liam felt like the numbers were flashing by awfully quickly.
“Approaching drop point,” came Brown’s scratchy voice over the circuit.
Faith glanced up at Liam, nodding with determination.
“Ready to release,” Liam replied.
The barge shook as Daring released all clamps. Liam swiveled the camera mounted forward and saw the bulk of the frigate emerging into view as Faith nudged his thrusters to clear the ship’s hull. The barge had been connected on the ship’s starboard quarter, and as Daring receded the bright glow of her sails was clearly visible.
“We’re pulling up to begin covering fire,” Brown reported. “Good luck.”
Daring soared upward in the field of view as the barge continued to drop. Liam rechecked the altitude. Another few seconds of free fall.
All around him, the walls of the converted cargo container were covered by crewmembers in space suits, held tight against the metal by their webbing. In the dim light it looked like his sailors were victims of an attack by giant spiders, and with so much time spent recently with Sectoids, the image was truly unsettling. He shook it off and focused again on the sensor readings.
Faith gripped his thruster controls, easing them open. The deceleration was gentle at fi
rst, just a pressure against the deck, but the altitude was still dropping fast and the boat coxn didn’t waste time in pushing the thrusters to full. The barge shuddered against the force. Liam turned the camera to look ahead, spying the white scar of the pirate base against the comet’s surface. There was only one ship still docked, the rest having already sailed to defend against the Sectoids high overhead. Then the view disappeared as the barge dropped behind a ridge.
The thrusters roared. New rattling shook the hull as dust and debris from the comet’s surface blasted up and bathed the barge in a dirty snowstorm. With a thump, the barge touched down. The thrusters went silent.
As his assault team disengaged from their webbing, Liam panned the camera across the dark landscape. Seeing no movement, he lumbered forward in his space suit to the forward airlock. He peered out through the window, scanning as best he could. Sky joined him moments later.
“Clear as far as I can tell, Chief,” he said.
“Unless they’re waiting right outside, sir, they can’t hit us—pistols don’t work in a vacuum.”
“Teams of four through the airlock, then.”
The rest of the sailors had assembled behind them. Swift had been assigned to the assault team, bringing its total to sixteen, divided into teams of four led by Liam, Amelia, Sky, and Swift. Flatrock and Hedge were both back to full duty, but they were separated today. Liam was keeping Flatrock close, and Sky had Hedge.
“Remember,” Liam said, “chaos is our friend today. Do as much early damage as you can to their outbuildings—try to make it look as if we’re much bigger than we are. And keep moving. Don’t let them pin you down. If you have to retreat to get clear, do so, then reapproach from another direction. Between our four teams and Daring’s top cover, those pirates should be running confused and scared.”
Sky’s team went through the airlock first. As soon as the outer door opened they fanned out, swords drawn, then bounded for cover, skipping across the dusty surface in the minimal gravity. Swift’s team was next, followed by Amelia’s. As the airlock repressurized for a final time, Liam glanced back at his one-man boat’s crew. Faith was still seated at his controls, weapons on his belt.
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