Without Mercy

by Eric Thomson

  “Did you ever visit an unregistered colony before the war?”

  “No. I didn’t work on independent merchantmen inclined to veer off regular shipping lanes for undeclared trading, but one hears things in the Guild saloons when booze is flowing. There will be hidden outposts in this area, but don’t ask me where or what their names are. It’s been years since I last listened to a captain with questionable ethics discuss the most profitable ports no one knows about.”

  “Understood. Keep at it, but remember we don’t enjoy the luxury of time. Either we go after the pirates to find Kattegat Maru’s crew, or we head for the nearest port. The Admiralty won’t thank me for sitting here doing nothing while the war is still on. Was there anything else?”

  “Not at the moment, sir.”

  “Dunmoore, out.”

  Cullop sat back and exhaled slowly. Time for another chat with Apprentice Officer Fennon. Though the young woman seemed happy that competent professionals now safeguarded her family’s ship, she still had a long way to go before trusting them with family secrets. And Cullop knew how that felt.

  She too was raised aboard a family ship, leaving it only at her parents’ behest so she could gain experience on corporate vessels. After it vanished without a trace one day with her entire family when she wasn’t yet twenty-five years old, Cullop remained with the same shipping line right until the war. There was little else she could do under the circumstances.

  **

  “Would it be impertinent of me to ask when you plan on informing Special Operations Command of the Kattegat Maru business?” Holt asked once Emma Cullop’s face faded from the day cabin’s main display. “At some point, we need to account for our movements, if only so HQ can ping the right subspace array. You know, in case someone with stars on his or her collar feels the urge to send us fresh orders or asks for a copy of our patrol log.”

  Dunmoore gave her first officer a wry smile.

  “I’ve been struggling with that question, Zeke, believe it or not. And that struggle will become more intense if Emma gets Carrie Fennon to talk about Kattegat Maru’s undocumented forays into the unclaimed frontier zone.”

  “Share the burden, Skipper. It might not feel half as heavy afterward, but at least you’ll make me just as miserable as you are.”

  “I’m afraid if I tell HQ we picked up a crewless Skeid class freighter in good condition, they’ll order me to hand it over so that SOCOM can increase its flotilla of irregular starships.”

  “We didn’t find Kattegat Maru completely abandoned nor did we seize her in battle, so the Navy can’t call on the normal salvage rules and make a claim.”

  “For the bureaucratic gnomes of this galaxy, it’s a mere detail, Zeke. They wouldn’t care that I gave my word to Carrie Fennon. The war will be over, and young Carrie an old age pensioner before the lawyers sort things out.”

  Holt grunted disconsolately.

  “Why must we always keep in mind our superiors might do what’s expedient instead of what’s right?”

  “SOCOM needs hulls for undercover work and converting a prize is the quickest, most cost-effective way. I doubt we’ll see another Iolanthe any time soon, if ever. Regular Fleet admirals probably howled at the idea of a special ops battlecruiser in the first place. So I can’t quite discount the justification of wartime requirements trumping private ownership, let alone our betters overriding the word of a captain who didn’t have the authority to give it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Hope we somehow find a lead in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Then, I can claim hot pursuit. If we find Fennon’s crewmates, we can turn the ship back to them, no harm, no foul.”

  “You’d take Kattegat Maru along on a hot pursuit? She’s not a warship under the skin like Iolanthe.”

  The question wasn’t so much skepticism on Holt’s part, but more his doing a first officer’s job by analyzing the factors and forcing her to do the same.

  “I’m open to alternative suggestions, Zeke, but yeah. We can’t just leave her here or send her off to port by herself.”

  “I suppose not. Although, it might be instructive if only to see who shows up to find her if our working theory is correct.”

  “Or we could leave a stealth probe that’ll do the same job without exposing Kattegat Maru to any new dangers.”

  “Or we could do that. I’ll have one prepared, just in case.”

  — Seven —

  Cullop found Carrie Fennon alone in the crew mess, nursing a lukewarm tea. The young woman glanced up and put on a weak smile, then turned her eyes back at the milky brown dregs in her cup. Cullop went to the samovar, poured herself a healthy serving and, disdaining any additives, wandered over to where Fennon sat at a scarred plastic table. It probably dated back to Kattegat Maru’s original configuration, well before either of them was born.

  “Care for company?”

  “You’re the captain, Captain.” Fennon jerked her chin at a vacant chair without looking up.

  “How’s your morale, Carrie?”

  Fennon essayed a dismissive shrug. It came across as a jerky, unconvincing gesture.

  “I’m breathing air instead of vacuum, I’m surrounded by the Navy and the Army, and so far my family still owns Kattegat Maru. For an independent trader picked over by pirates, it couldn’t be better.”

  “Things could always be better. Or worse. At least that’s been my experience. I was a starship baby too. My parents, they owned a nice little two-hander called Juliette and raised me to be a merchant spacer. I passed my watch-keeping certificate six weeks after turning seventeen. The Guild examiner was impressed. Then, the day I turned eighteen, my parents farmed me out to Smyrna Shipping as the sixth officer on a container ship, to get experience in the big leagues before they retired and gave me Juliette. I made it to third officer before those damned boneheads invaded. The Navy took my ship into service as an auxiliary transport, along with the entire crew. And that was the end of my civilian career.”

  “What are your folks doing these days?” Fennon’s question seemed pro forma as if to show she wasn’t snubbing her new captain, though Cullop knew she would rather be left to fret about her mother in silence.

  “They’re probably dead. Or at least I hope they are and not serving as human chattel for some alien asshole hundreds of light years away. Juliette vanished a long time ago out in the Shield Sector. I figure reivers caught up with her.”

  Fennon’s head came up, and she stared at Cullop in stunned silence for a few moments.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. But my father enjoyed taking chances. He pushed the odds by going where no one else would because it paid so well. Until his luck ran out. If they hadn’t sent me to work for Smyrna, you and I wouldn’t be talking, so he made at least one good decision in his life, other than marrying my mother.”

  “What will you do after the war?”

  “Stay in the Navy, if they’ll keep me. It’s been a good hitch so far, and anyone could do a lot worse than serve under Captain Dunmoore. She’s not exactly a by-the-book skipper.”

  Cullop took a sip of tea and repressed a grimace. It wasn’t particularly good. Over-brewed, bitter and excessively tannic.

  “But she gets things done. And right now, what she wants to do is find Katie’s crew and passengers. Problem is, we don’t know where the pirates went, and without at least a clue, the captain will receive orders to bring your ship to the nearest port before returning to her regular duties. What happens after that will be between your lawyers and the Navy’s.”

  Fennon’s face twisted into a scowl. “I’m not giving Katie to the Navy. I’ll scuttle her before that happens.”

  “Then help Captain Dunmoore help you, Carrie. She doesn’t want to give your ship away either, but she’s a Navy officer, and we’re in a war. Personal preferences don’t come into it.”

  A derisive snort. Then, “How the hell am I supposed to help? I was stuck in a damned cubbyhole.�
��

  “We think the pirates tagged Katie and followed her here, where they could ambush you with no one noticing. And it probably happened at one of the outposts that aren’t supposed to exist, the sort where merchant captains make their profits off the books. Pirates hang around those places between raids.”

  When Cullop saw Fennon’s expression turn to stone, she chuckled.

  “I overheard a lot of talk in various Guild saloons during my time with Smyrna Shipping. Never visited them myself. Smyrna didn’t sail beyond the Commonwealth sphere, and Juliette worked along the Shield Sector’s outer edge, not around here. Want to know what I think? Your crew and the passengers are headed for one of those outposts right now. Maybe the same one where the pirates tagged this ship.”

  Carrie gave Cullop a defiant stare but Iolanthe’s second officer merely smiled.

  “Help Captain Dunmoore help you. Tell me at which of the unregistered outposts Kattegat Maru docked before the pirate attack.”

  “What would you do with that information? If I could answer.” Still defiant, but with uncertainty in those big brown eyes.

  “Go there and find your mother, her crew, and the passengers.”

  “Just like that. With a supply ship resembling an idiotically slow bulk freighter instead of a frigate or a destroyer?”

  Cullop nodded, still smiling.

  “Yep. Just like that. Iolanthe’s bite is a lot bigger than you might expect. The Navy lets its replenishment ships sail without an escort for a good reason, Carrie. Think about it.”

  “And if Captain Dunmoore goes chasing after my mother and the rest, what happens to us? To Katie? We’re not a Navy ship.”

  “We’re an auxiliary naval vessel now.”

  Fennon’s face briefly took on an exasperated air, as if she thought Cullop was deliberately obtuse.

  “You know what I mean, sir.”

  “We follow Iolanthe wherever she goes, but stay out of her way. At least that’s what I figure Captain Dunmoore intends. She can’t just leave us here, or send us to the nearest civilian port by ourselves.”

  “Why wouldn’t she send us to a port?”

  Cullop explained their theory the pirates left Kattegat Maru as a mysteriously abandoned vessel for someone to find so she might cover a specific abduction or serve as a message. When she fell silent, Fennon seemed lost in thought, eyes staring once more at the dregs in her cup.

  “Kilia.”

  “Beg pardon?” Cullop asked.

  “Kilia Station. That was our last port of call. It’s one of those rogue places on the frontier, a hollowed-out asteroid in a dead star system. My mother didn’t enjoy heading there, but cargoes to and from Kilia pay well, and we can always use the money.”

  **

  “Sorry.” Lieutenant Astrid Drost looked up from the navigation console and turned to Dunmoore. “There’s no Kilia Station listed. I tried every possible spelling variation.”

  Dunmoore glanced at the bridge’s main display.

  “Carrie Fennon can’t tell us in which system we might find this station, nor does she know where her mother keeps the navigation instructions for the special places, right, Emma?”

  Cullop shook her head.

  “No. Captain Aurelia Fennon kept that information to herself, so no one could accidentally say the wrong thing after one too many drinks at the Guild or in a spaceport bar. Or when a federal inspector came calling. And it’s a reasonable fear. I discovered the existence of outlaw colonies precisely because of unguarded talk in the Guild saloon.”

  “That doesn’t help us much.”

  A faint smile appeared on Cullop’s lips.

  “No, but Carrie says the system in question is a three day FTL jump from this location. Seventy hours from the system’s heliopause, give or take. Her mother always made a long leg coming out of the frontier region, to throw off anyone with bad intentions.”

  Holt made a face.

  “It didn’t work this time. But that’s another bit of evidence the attack wasn’t random. The pirates most certainly tracked them.”

  Drost silently worked the navigation plot for a little longer, then said, “Depending on how hard Captain Fennon was pushing her drives, there are eight star systems within seventy hours of our current position. None with known outposts or colonies. At least not officially. All have planets, most of them hostile to human life. A few terrifyingly so.”

  “It’ll take weeks to search every system, Skipper. We might hit the jackpot and find Kilia on the first try. But the Admiralty won’t let us go off on our own for that long if it turns out we’re not lucky.”

  “True. We need more clues.” Dunmoore glanced at Cullop again. “Keep talking with Carrie and see if she remembers anything else.”

  “And search the navigation logs, Emma,” Drost said. “Even if they erased anything related to this Kilia Station and replaced it with fake data to show they never came near the place, mistakes are always possible. The tiniest thing might give us added data to narrow down the possibilities.”

  “That was my next task. Carrie Fennon is trying, Captain. The Almighty knows she’s trying. Once she internalized the notion that leaving Kattegat Maru at the nearest port to be fought over by lawyers might represent the end of the Fennon family transport emporium, she talked. But Aurelia Fennon seems to keep many things from her daughter. It wouldn’t surprise me to find she engaged in illicit activities as a way of boosting profits. Nothing which might entail a twenty-year sentence on Parth, but illicit commerce that comes with a stiff fine and confiscated cargo. Keeping an old ship such as this in such good condition takes money.”

  “Understood. If you think my speaking with Carrie Fennon in person might help, I’ll gladly come for a visit.”

  “And satisfy your curiosity about Kattegat Maru,” Holt muttered. The devilish glint in his one eye and his teasing tone brought a brief but rueful smile to Dunmoore’s face. “You know you want to.”

  “Guilty. But let’s focus on the mission, not my curiosity.”

  She looked at each of her principal officers in turn, silently asking if they wanted to add anything else. When the last, Cullop, shook her head, Dunmoore stood.

  “Let’s do it, then. We’ll regroup at the end of the watch and assess our progress at finding this mysterious Kilia Station.”

  “CIC to the bridge.”

  Dunmoore held up her hand, ordering everyone to stay, including Cullop. Lieutenant Commander Sirico, who listened in on the conversation from his regular duty station, wouldn’t interrupt unless it was urgent.

  “Dunmoore.”

  “Chief Yens picked up a hyperspace trail heading in our general direction from the frontier.”

  “Tatiana’s theoretical finders already?” Holt glanced at his captain with a raised eyebrow.

  “Perhaps. It’s been what? Almost four days since the attack. And this isn’t near any charted star lane. Or it could be another merchant ship heading home after making a few more creds by trading with quasi-outlaws.” Dunmoore thought for a moment, gloved hand stroking the scar on her jawline. “All right. Here’s what we’ll do, in case this is someone who knows where the pirates left Kattegat Maru. Emma, put everyone in battlesuits so their life signs are dampened, then make like you’re a derelict.”

  “I have no suit for Carrie, meaning it’s back into the shielded cubbyhole.”

  “Whatever works. Iolanthe will rig for silent running right away and then quietly go to battle stations without unmasking. If, and that’s a big if, these are people interested in Kattegat Maru, I want to lure them close and then pull a partial Furious Faerie transformation, but as our privateer alter ego, Persephone. That means you, Emma, are running a privateer’s prize crew and Sergeant Saari is now back in the Varangian Company. If we play this right, perhaps they can tell us where Kilia Station is hiding. Questions?”

  When no one answered, she clapped her hands.

  “Let’s move, people.” Dunmoore gestured at the officer of the watch.
“Call it, please.”

  Moments later, Sub Lieutenant Rin Pashar’s voice rang out over the public address system.

  “Now hear this, Iolanthe will rig for silent running immediately. I repeat, Iolanthe will rig for silent running immediately. That is all.”

  — Eight —

  “I can still pick up faint life signs from Kattegat Maru,” Yens reported once Cullop called in to confirm her ship was ready. “But since we’re almost alongside, I know where she is, and my sensors can beat the pants off any civilian grade stuff, that’s not surprising.”

  “You, however, vanished from my crappy civilian grade sensors, Chief,” Cullop said over the tight-beam comlink between both ships. She wore her battlesuit, complete with helmet, but her visor was still raised. “Watching Iolanthe turn into a hole in space was an interesting experience. I can still see you on visual because I know where to look and you’re blotting out the background stars, but that’s it. Someone dropping out of FTL nearby will only see an abandoned Katie.”

  Dunmoore nodded her approval. “And that’s how we want it. How’s Carrie Fennon?”

  “She understandably resisted returning to the cubbyhole. But Yulia rigged a way for me to keep in touch and let her see what’s happening from the bridge perspective without compromising the cubbyhole’s shielding. Crisis averted. Oh, and just so you know, Carrie remembered at the last moment she found the hangar deck depressurized and the space doors open, so we’re replicating that as we speak.”

  “Excellent. Tell her I said good catch. If that was it, Emma, say bye-bye.”

  “Bye-bye.” Cullop’s smiling face faded from the secondary display.

  With nothing else to do, Dunmoore mentally ran through every scenario she could think of, her eyes fixed on the CIC’s holographic tactical projection. The fish tank as some called it. Two blue icons represented Iolanthe and Kattegat Maru. A third, this one green, was the hyperspace trail picked up by Chief Yens’ long-range sensors. Even if the ship making that trail kept going on its merry way, calculating the possible point of origin based on her current vector might narrow down the star system hiding Kilia Station. If that ship came from Kilia Station. So far, everything was a supposition.