Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3)

by Resnick, Mike

  “You say most of us will be transferred,” said the captain. “What about the rest of us?”

  “The rest will stay right here. This beautiful lady, whose name is Val until she decides to change it again, will be your captain, and she’ll need a few crew members who are familiar with the ship.” He paused. “You’ve probably figured it out already, but your first action will be to attack the remainder of Genghis Khan’s fleet.”

  “I’ve got no love for Khan,” said the captain. “But he pays me well. How much will you pay me?”

  “Considerably less,” said Cole.

  “That’s not much of an incentive.”

  “I’m being as honest as I can,” said Cole. “And your choices are still the same.”

  Val had been walking around the bridge, surveying the computer and weapons stations. “It’ll do,” she announced. “It’s not the Pegasus”—her lost ship—“but it’ll do.”

  “It had damned well better do,” said Cole. “We need it. I’ll loan you Christine and Briggs long enough for them to find all the hidden codes and messages, but once we know where Khan is, the South Star is going to lead the attack, since you’ll be able to approach him with impunity.”

  “I’ll need more than this warmed-over batch of losers,” said Val.

  Cole smiled at the ship’s crew. “She’s so tactful,” he said.

  “I’m serious, Wilson,” she continued. “I’ll take two or three of them, but this ship needs at least twenty crew members, probably more, and I’d rather have twenty who didn’t surrender without a shot being fired.” She paused for a moment, considering her options. “I want Forrice.”

  Cole shook his head. “You can’t have him. He’s my First Officer. If we’re a fleet of two, the Teddy R is our flagship, and if anything happens to me, he’s got to be there to take it over.”

  “I assume I can’t have Christine or Slick, either?”

  “No.”

  “Then give me Bull and Luthor.”

  Cole looked at the two men and seemed to consider it.

  “Damn it, Wilson! You’ve got to give me someone I can trust, and they’re here already.”

  “You heard the lady,” said Cole. “Do either of you have any objections?”

  “No, sir,” said Pampas.

  “Neither do I, sir,” chimed in Chadwick.

  “Okay,” said Cole. “When I choose some more of the Teddy R’s crew to send over, I’ll have them bring your gear.”

  “And mine,” said Val.

  Cole turned back to the South Star’s crew members. “Your five minutes are up.”

  To nobody’s surprise, each of them volunteered to serve aboard the Teddy R or the South Star.

  “How many more people are on the ship?” asked Cole.

  The captain smiled. “I was wondering when you’d think of that.”

  “I thought of that the second we reached the bridge,” said Cole. “The door to the stairs is locked, and I’ve had one of my weapons trained on the airlift.”

  “Good,” said the captain.

  “Good?” repeated Cole curiously.

  “If I’m going to serve with you, it’s nice to know that you’re not a fool.” He reached out a hand. “My name is Perez.”

  Cole took the man’s hand and shook it. “Got a first name?”

  Perez shook his head. “Left it behind in the Republic, along with my officer’s commission.”

  “You were in the Space Service?”

  “Second Officer aboard the Sophocles.”

  “The Sophocles?” repeated Cole. “Didn’t we—?”

  “Save our asses when the Teronis had us englobed?” said Perez. “Yes, you did, Commander Cole.”

  “It’s Captain Cole these days. What the hell are you doing here on the Frontier?”

  “Pretty much the same as you,” said Perez. “Only I didn’t have the luxury of taking my ship and crew with me. I killed an officer who was torturing a Canphorite prisoner for the sheer hell of it, and I had to leave in a hurry. Captain Bienvenuti looked the other way while I borrowed a shuttle. He was a good man.”

  “What were you doing with scum like that bearded thug you sent down to the planet?” asked Cole.

  “This is the Frontier,” answered Perez. “You take what you can get.” He paused. “Probably you’ll say no, but until I can get another ship of my own I’d like to volunteer to stay on the South Star. I know her better than anyone else.”

  “The South Star is Val’s ship,” answered Cole. “It’s up to her.”

  “He can stay,” said Val.

  “I won’t try to take it back,” said Perez. “At least, not without warning.”

  “Best life insurance you could have,” said Cole. “You really don’t want to make that redhead mad at you. Now suppose you tell the rest of your crew what their options are.”

  “All right,” said Perez. He walked to the airlift. “I’d better do it in person,” he added. “They might not trust a holo projection.”

  “By the way, what’s the breakdown?” asked Cole.

  “Nine Men—six males and three females—plus four Lodinites, a Mollutei, and a pair of Molarians.”

  “Are the Molarians females?” asked Cole. “We may have to keep them under lock and key.”

  “Males.”

  “Okay, go talk to your crew. Luthor, use the ship’s radio to contact Four Eyes and tell him to bring the Teddy R over here, that we’re going to be making some personnel changes.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Chadwick. He spent a moment looking for the subspace transmitter, found it, and opened communications with the Teddy R.

  “What’s the least number you can run this ship with?” asked Cole.

  “I want a full crew,” said Val.

  “I didn’t ask what you wanted,” replied Cole. “You’ll get your crew. But right now the South Star is going to be the ship that attacks Khan, because once you know all the codes and protocols he’ll let you approach him. I don’t want to risk any more lives than we have to.”

  She looked around the bridge. “We don’t have a pilot like Wxakgini, so I’ll need a navigator, plus four gunnery officers and someone to work the ship’s defenses. I need someone familiar with the computer and radio complex. I don’t like traveling without an engineer, but if all we’re doing is going back to the ship’s home base and firing on Khan, I suppose we can do without one for the time being. I can’t imagine a ship like this has much of an infirmary, and you still haven’t got a medic on the Teddy R so I can’t borrow one.” She paused, considering all her needs and options. “I think it carries about forty at capacity. I can get by with eight, but I’d rather have a dozen. If they’re going to be shooting at us, I want to make sure I have some backups.”

  “Okay, eight at the minimum, and I’ll try to get you a few more.” He paused. “Do you trust this Perez?”

  “He seems minimally more honorable than the men he sent down to the planet,” she replied. “Besides, he’d better be more concerned about me than I am about him. In case you’re not aware of it, I can take care of myself.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Cole responded dryly.

  “Sir?” said Chadwick, looking up. “I just spoke to Commander Forrice. He’s sending Christine Mboya and Malcolm Briggs over on one of the shuttles, which will then transport you and such crew members of the South Star who will be joining you back to the Teddy R. He asks if you know yet who, if anyone, you’re transferring here permanently, besides Val, Bull, and myself?”

  “Not yet.”

  Chadwick returned his attention to the small holograph of Forrice that floated before him.

  “That name’s got to go,” said Val.

  “What name?”

  “The South Star,” she replied. “It’s so dull just saying it could put you to sleep.”

  Cole shrugged. “It’s your ship now. Call it whatever you want.”

  “The Sphinx,” she said after a moment’s consideration.

  “You’re
the head of it, and you’re got flaming red hair,” said Cole. “How about the Red Sphinx?”

  “I like it,” said Val. “I’ll tell the crew, as soon as I decide who’s in the crew, and I’ll have all the computers reprogrammed so that the ship and radio respond to that name instead of”—she made a sour face—“the South Star.”

  “Just remember that you’re still the South Star when you approach Khan, or this is going to be the shortest-lived sphinx on record.”

  14

  Cole was sitting at his usual table in the Teddy R’s mess hall, sipping from a cup of coffee, when Sharon Blacksmith sat down opposite him.

  “Are they all processed?” he asked her.

  “Most of them should be okay, though I’d expect at least half to desert the moment they get shore leave,” she reported. “You’ve got two, though, a Molarian and a human woman, who are what I would call borderline psychopaths.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “I think you’d better ship them down to Bannister.”

  “I can’t,” said Cole. “I offered them a choice. I can’t go back on my word.”

  “Wilson, trust me,” said Sharon. “You really don’t want these two on your ship.”

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll set them off on an oxygen world.”

  “There’s one three light-years away—an agricultural planet called Greenbriar.”

  He shook his head. “If they’re too dangerous to keep on board, I can’t turn them loose in a farming community. Assign one of your men to watch them around the clock, until we come to a world with at least a rudimentary law enforcement agency.”

  “All right,” she said. Then: “You know, we could give all the crew that came over from the Red Sphinx a mock medical scan, and then say that we found something suspicious or contagious in these two and that we’re confining them to quarters until we reach a medical facility.”

  “And nobody else who has been living in confined quarters with them has it?” said Cole. “Nobody’ll buy it.”

  She smiled at him. “Nobody has to. You’re the Captain. Your word is law. If you tell them that you believe the findings and order them confined, then it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

  “I’ll consider it,” said Cole, taking a sip of his coffee. “Run ’em through your phony test. We might as well get that done, no matter what I decide.”

  “When we’re through talking,” said Sharon, “I’ll have Vladimir Sokolov join me in the infirmary and see what we can devise that looks legitimate. How’s Val doing with the ones who stayed behind on her ship?”

  “I spoke to her an hour ago, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. This Perez, the guy who captained it, seems pretty capable.”

  “Capable of taking it back?”

  “From her?” he said.

  “Silly question,” said Sharon. “Forget I asked it.”

  “He was showing her how and where to access all the protocols when I spoke to her,” remarked Cole. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to see how she’s coming along.” He pressed a button on the table, and a small holograph of the bridge suddenly appeared. “Rachel?”

  A pretty blonde woman stared at his image, which took shape in front of her. “Yes, Captain?” said Rachel Marcos.

  “Patch me through to Val again.”

  The bridge instantly disappeared, to be replaced by Val’s full-sized image.

  “Do you have what you need yet?” asked Cole.

  “Just about. Khan’s got eight more ships, and they’re all in the Cicero system.”

  Cole frowned. “The Cicero system?” he repeated. “I thought that was nothing but gas giants.”

  “That’s right.” Val smiled. “He figures it’s the last place anyone would go looking for him.”

  “He was right, until a few minutes ago,” said Cole. “I assume your weaponry is all functional?”

  “Bull says one of the pulse cannons is useless, but everything else is working.”

  “Have you got enough ammunition for a pitched battle?”

  “Yes.”

  “How soon are you ready to go?”

  “As soon as I learn my crew’s names,” said Val.

  “And how long will it take your ship to get to Cicero?” asked Cole.

  She looked to her left, and he could hear Perez’s voice say: “Maybe four days in normal space, about five hours through the Bannerman Wormhole.”

  “Thanks, Perez,” said Cole. “How far from the system will you be when you emerge from the wormhole?”

  “Maybe half a light-year. It’s collapsing a few light-years further on, and spitting you out at the other end of the Inner Frontier, but our navigator thinks it’s safe as far as the Cicero system.”

  “Will you have warning if he’s wrong?”

  “We should,” said Perez. “Who the hell knows with wormholes?”

  “That’s why every ship should have a Bdxeni pilot,” said Cole. “Contact ours and run your route past him.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Cole shrugged. “Ask someone who can pronounce it, or just call him Pilot.”

  “They’re part of the Republic,” replied Perez. “You don’t find them out here very often, and when you do, you can’t afford them anyway.”

  “I assume we’re approaching Cicero alone?” said Val. “If the Teddy R is anywhere near me, he’s likely to blow us both apart without asking any questions.”

  “I agree,” said Cole. “Let me think for a minute.”

  “Take two minutes,” said Perez’s voice. “I’d like to live through this.”

  “All right,” said Cole after a pause. “The Teddy R is going to head off to Cicero right now. We’ll either go through normal space, or if Pilot can find us a wormhole—not the Bannerman—that will deposit us a few light-years beyond it we’ll use that. But let’s assume he can’t, and that it’ll take us four days to get there.”

  “Okay, I’m assuming it,” said Val. “Now what?”

  “Use the Bannerman Hole and show up there in four and a half days. You’ve got the ID codes and protocols, and you’ve got Perez if anyone needs visual confirmation of who’s on the ship. Then, when you’re close enough so there’s no chance of missing, blow Khan and his ship to kingdom come.”

  “That’ll be about sixty thousand miles,” said Val. “Fifty, to be on the safe side.”

  “You’re not going to offer him the same deal you offered me?” asked Perez.

  “No,” said Cole. “Kingpins don’t settle for second place, and I don’t know how loyal some of the men and ships are to him.”

  “So much for what you said on my ship about being a civilized man,” remarked Perez.

  “It’s my ship!” snapped Val.

  “True,” admitted Perez. “But it was my ship when he said it.”

  “And to respond to your comment,” said Cole, “there’s a difference between being a civilized man and a civilized fool.”

  “What will you be doing while I’m taking Khan?” asked Val.

  “Once you’ve disabled or destroyed his ship, I’ll offer amnesty to any ship and crew that will join us—and the Teddy R will pick off any ship that tries to escape. They’re going to have two options—join us or fight us. Running away is not a third option.” He paused. “Perez?”

  Perez’s holograph appeared beside Val’s. “Yes?”

  “You know the ships, their captains, and their personnel. How many are likely to stand and fight?”

  “Against the South Star . . . excuse me: the Red Sphinx? Most of them. Against the Theodore Roosevelt—maybe half. Some won’t want to try matching firepower with a Republic warship, even an ancient one like yours, and some will simply want to serve with Wilson Cole after having taken orders from Genghis Khan.”

  “Anything you can say to them once we dispose of Khan will be appreciated,” said Cole.

  “I’ll be honest,” said Perez. “Most of us are in this for the money, and I’m sure they’l
l come to the same conclusion I came to: that we’ll do much better serving under Wilson Cole that we would either under Khan or on our own. You have quite a reputation.”

  “Yeah,” said Cole sardonically. “There are rewards for me on every world in the Republic.”

  “The very things that make you a fugitive in the Republic accrue to your benefit out here on the Frontier,” replied Perez. He stared at Cole’s face curiously for a moment. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

  “What is it?”

  “You haven’t asked anything about Khan. Don’t you want to know what he’s like?”

  “Not especially,” said Cole. “No matter what you can tell me, he’s not going to live long enough for me to use it.”

  “You know,” said Perez, “you’re polite and well mannered and reasonably soft-spoken, but you’re one cold son of a bitch.”

  Val smiled. “Why do you think I agreed to serve with him?”

  “The subject at hand is Khan’s ships, not my personality,” said Cole. “Shall we get back to it?”

  “I think we’ve taken care of it,” said Val. “Go back to your Security Chief. If there’s anything else I need to know, I’ll contact you.”

  She broke the connection, and Cole turned back to Sharon. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Of Perez? I didn’t see and hear enough to tell. Of the mission? Khan will never know what hit him.”

  “Am I a cold son of a bitch?”

  “Not between the covers,” she said with a smile. “As for the rest of the time, it goes with being the Captain. And when was the last time you weren’t facing an enemy who wanted to kill you—including certain select officers of the Republic’s Navy?”

  “It’s been a while,” he admitted.

  “Half a lifetime?”

  “More.” He got to his feet. “I suppose I’d better go speak to Pilot and tell him where we’re going.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we relax until we get there, and hope everyone involved is as smart as Perez and that we don’t have to fire a shot.”

  15

  Usually battle plans that are months in the making and cover every conceivable detail tend to go wrong, so it was only just and fitting that Cole’s plan, conceived in less than five minutes, ran like clockwork.