“Send them our ID and the diplomatic paperwork,” she ordered curtly. Aston Villa hadn’t quite completed the transition from a ruling corporation to an elected government, according to the files. Historically, such periods were almost always rough for both the founding corporation and the new government. “And then release the freighters from our control.”
“Aye, Captain,” Linda said.
Crenshaw glanced at her. “Captain, three of the freighters requested escort to Sullivan.”
Kat thought quickly. She could take the freighters to Generis with her and then head to Sullivan, only adding three or four days to Lightning’s journey, but such a move would complicate matters. And yet she didn’t want to allow the freighters to proceed unescorted if possible. Very few pirates would be reluctant to take on a lone freighter, even if the thought of encountering a heavy cruiser made them wet their pants in fear.
“Tell them to hold position for the moment,” she ordered. “We’ll have to take them to Generis first.”
Crenshaw nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
Linda glanced up, sharply. “Captain, we’re picking up a signal from the surface,” she said. “Governor Hemphill is requesting a private discussion.”
“I’ll take it in my Ready Room,” Kat said, rising. “Mr. Crenshaw, you have the bridge.”
Kat deliberated further as she walked into the Ready Room, the hatch hissing closed behind her. Governor Hemphill was supposed to be the last governor, according to the files; technically, his position was meant to be largely ceremonial as real power was transferred to an elected government. But matters were rarely that simple. A capable founding corporation would maintain a dominant role in the planet’s economy for years to come. Was trouble brewing on Aston Villa?
The Falcone Corporation might have some shares in the founding corporation, she thought, sitting down in front of her terminal. They’re always solid investments.
She pushed the thought aside as a dark-skinned man appeared in front of her. His age was indeterminate, as always, but she knew from his file that he was in his late fifties. He wasn’t quite a corporate drone—his position called for diplomacy as well as merely issuing orders—but he would be considered reliable by his superiors. They wouldn’t want someone siding with the settlers if something went wrong.
“Captain Falcone,” Governor Hemphill said. His accent suggested a Terra Nova background. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, Your Excellency,” Kat said. She couldn’t help immediately warming to the older man. There was something dignified about him that reminded her of her father. “It is a pleasure to be here.”
“I read your diplomatic notes and discussed them with my successor, President Coalman,” Governor Hemphill continued. “Is the Commonwealth serious about establishing stronger ties with the sector?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Kat assured him.
“Then we need to ask for your help,” Governor Hemphill said. “Aston Villa would like to join the Commonwealth.”
Kat blinked. She hadn’t expected that.
“There is a formal procedure for applying for membership,” she said slowly. Just who was actually asking? And why? Did Aston Villa really want to join the Commonwealth or was it just a small party? Cadiz had been a disaster, at least in part, because only a tiny minority of its inhabitants had genuinely wanted to join. “I can forward you the papers, if you wish.”
Governor Hemphill leaned forward. “Is there a way to fast-track the process?”
“It would depend,” Kat said. Politics, again. There was no StarCom in the system, so she’d have to handle the request herself without referencing her superiors. “First, you would have to meet the minimum requirements; second, you would need to hold a referendum to ensure that your population wants to join; third, the Commonwealth Chamber would need to vote to accept you. I don’t see it happening in less than five years.”
She sucked in her breath. “Why do you want to join so quickly?”
“The sector is growing more and more unstable by the day,” Governor Hemphill said. “We’re not that isolated from the mainstream. It’s only a matter of time before someone decides he wants our world for himself. Joining the Commonwealth may be the only way to gain protection and yet retain a degree of freedom.”
Not everyone would agree, Kat thought, but the Commonwealth will certainly be less dangerous in the long run.
There were other advantages, she knew. If Aston Villa started down the path to Commonwealth membership, investment would flow into the system. She’d have a good chance to race forward and overtake many of the other worlds in the sector, even though Jorlem and Vangelis had a good head start. If most of the other worlds tried to stay out of the Commonwealth, Aston Villa would benefit hugely from free trade.
Turning the planet into a naval base would be a blessing, she considered. A couple of starships on permanent station here would deter just about everyone from attacking the system.
“An application for membership is somewhat outside my purview,” Kat said, finally. “And I have to take the ship to Generis. But I can take a request for membership back to the Commonwealth, if you wish.”
“I understand,” Governor Hemphill said. He smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t expect you to rubber-stamp our membership.”
Kat had to smile as well. “My superiors would not be amused,” she said. “But I think they’ll be pleased to receive your formal application.”
They’ll still have to determine who has the right to speak for your world, she added silently.
“That’s all we can ask,” Governor Hemphill said. He bowed his head. “I hope to see you down on the surface when you return.”
“I certainly hope so too,” Kat agreed. “And I look forward to meeting both you and the president.”
“Of course,” Governor Hemphill said. “And thank you.”
Governor Hemphill’s face vanished from the terminal, but Kat continued to stare at it in amused disbelief. A planet that was actually eager to sign up with the Commonwealth? It was unexpected, although Gamma Orion and the other early members had also been eager. Hemphill’s request was refreshing but also worrying. Who did have the authority to speak for Aston Villa? She would have to find out before the process could be started in earnest.
And I’ll have to file a report, she thought sourly. The Admiralty and the Foreign Office would want her impressions, which would be tricky. She just didn’t have the time to go down to the surface and chat to the population. There are too many other things to do.
She keyed her console. “Mr. Crenshaw, inform the freighters that we will be departing to Sullivan via Generis two hours from now,” she said. “If they still want to travel with us, they can do so.”
“Aye, Captain,” Crenshaw said.
“And then lay in a course for Generis,” Kat added. “Time is not on our side.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“There isn’t very much here, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Samuel Weiberg said thoughtfully. “There certainly isn’t a habitable planet.”
“But enough asteroids to keep a small civilization going for quite some time,” Crenshaw pointed out. “There’s a lot of asteroids.”
Kat agreed. Generis had no Earth-compatible world, merely a couple of dead planets that would require a long-term terraforming program to turn them into places humans could live. But there was a large gas giant and a colossal asteroid belt, the latter housing a growing settlement. Given time, Generis might become very important indeed. Asteroid settlers made the best industrial workers in the galaxy.
“Keep us under cloak, but take us towards the cloudscoop,” she ordered quietly. There would be time to make contact with the settlement later. She had no idea if the pirates had taken the asteroid colonies too, although the report suggested they hadn’t. “Are you picking up any transmissions from the settlements?”
“Just standard emissions,” Linda noted. “I suspect they’re using lasers for direct communic
ations.”
Kat forced herself to wait as Lightning made her way towards the gas giant. Generis-III was huge, only slightly smaller than Jupiter. The planet reminded her, vaguely, of a proposal she’d once read to turn a gas giant into a second sun. There were five moons orbiting the gas giant that might become habitable, if the planet could become a star, but she knew such a feat wasn’t possible yet. Even her father had regarded the whole scheme as a dubious investment.
“I’m picking up the cloudscoop,” Weiberg reported twenty minutes later. “She’s right where the report said she’d be.”
Good, Kat thought.
The cloudscoop came into view on the display. It was surprisingly simple for such an important piece of technology: a long tube reaching down into the gas giant’s atmosphere with a large cluster of processing and habitation modules—and docking struts—at the top. The setup looked remarkably fragile, but she knew from her research that cloudscoops were surprisingly strong. And if conditions on the planet below grew too intense, the scoop could be retracted until the weather calmed down.
Crenshaw coughed. “Any starships?”
“One ship docked at her lower strut,” Weiberg said. “I think she’s a corvette, judging by her mass readings. She doesn’t seem to be running any active sensor scans.”
Kat sucked in her breath. What were the pirates doing? If they snatched every ship that docked, the remainder of the settlements would know that something was wrong. And yet, if they allowed ships to buy fuel freely . . . maybe they were just jacking up the price as much as possible. And perhaps selling fuel to pirate ships too.
They’ll be holding the entire system hostage too, she thought, grimly. If their supplies of HE3 get cut off, their economy will suffer until they can replace the cloudscoop.
She keyed her console. “Major, your opinion?”
“We could make a covert transit,” Davidson said through the intercom. “But they’d know the moment we landed on the hull.”
“And then they’d have an opportunity to do something about it,” Kat mused.
Kat had ordered the freighters to return to realspace on the edge of the system and go dark, shutting down all unnecessary systems to ensure that they weren’t detected. If she called one of them in and used it as a Trojan horse . . . they might just be able to sneak the marines up to the cloudscoop without being detected. But there would still be too much risk of being detected before they were in position to take the station.
Besides, none of the skippers signed up to play hero, Kat thought. They might not want to put their ships at risk.
“Captain,” Wheeler said. “How close do you want us to go?”
Kat gritted her teeth. The cloudscoop wasn’t operating active sensors. She was fairly sure Lightning would remain undetected for some time as long as she didn’t use her own active sensors, but Kat couldn’t just lurk in the system and keep an eye on the cloudscoop. She had to recover the station before the pirates could destroy it.
Crenshaw leaned toward her. “We don’t know the station has actually been taken.”
“There’s a corvette parked below her,” Kat pointed out. “She wouldn’t be there if she wasn’t a pirate ship.”
She thought quickly. Assuming the corvette’s life support was maxed out, there could be over fifty pirates on the station. The station itself was over-engineered, designed to comfortably support at least a hundred inhabitants. She doubted the pirates would have turned the cloudscoop into a base, but they could be holding their prisoners there as well as the hostages. The Commonwealth officially disapproved of paying ransoms, yet Kat knew that there was a standing offer to ransom any merchant crewman who fell into pirate hands—often the only thing standing between the captured crewmen and a horrible death.
“There’s no way we can sneak the marines onboard,” she added. “Major?”
“I suspect you’re right, Captain,” Davidson said. “There’s too much electromagnetic distortion in the surrounding space to guarantee an undetected crossing.”
“Then we have to try to talk them into leaving peacefully,” Kat said reluctantly. She didn’t like the idea—allowing pirates to escape scot-free was a loathsome thought—but she saw no alternative. “They can depart in their ship and we’ll recover the cloudscoop.”
Crenshaw looked doubtful. “It will take them at least twenty minutes to put enough distance between themselves and the gravity well to open a gateway and jump out,” he said. “They’ll be exposed to our fire all the way. They’ll never go for it.”
“I have to agree,” Davidson said. “Captain, they’ll insist on taking a few hostages with them.”
Kat saw the wisdom of Pat’s words. A family with youngsters had too many potential hostages. She refused to knowingly fire on children. And once the pirates slipped into hyperspace, they could either keep the hostages or simply space them.
They won’t believe a complete concession, she thought. I’ll have to let them talk me into doing what I want to do.
“I have a plan,” she said, the idea gelling in her head. “Helm, take us to an overwatch position. I want to be ready to intercept anything leaving the station.”
“Aye, Captain,” Wheeler said.
“Major Davidson,” Kat added, “prepare a platoon of marines for a stealth insertion.”
“Aye, Captain,” Davidson said.
Kat forced herself to wait as Lightning moved closer to her target. There were just too many variables for her to feel remotely comfortable, even though she had a plan. If she’d misjudged the pirates—or she accidentally panicked them—the plan was going to fail spectacularly before it had even begun. She didn’t dare give the pirates too much time to think, yet—at the same time—she knew there was too much they could do to frustrate her . . .
Once we reveal ourselves, we are committed, she thought grimly.
She looked at the tactical console. “Do we have a threat analysis for the corvette?”
“No, Captain,” Weiberg said. “She’s largely powered down. Analysis thinks she’ll need at least ten minutes to bring all her systems online.”
Catching an enemy warship unawares was every tactical officer’s dream. No hull material ever produced could stand up to antimatter warheads slamming into unprotected metal. Kat would give her right arm to catch Glory of God in such a vulnerable pose. But there was no way she could take advantage of the scenario, not now. The pirates needed to think they had a way out.
“We could take her out with a single missile,” Crenshaw pointed out.
“She’s too close to the station,” Kat explained. “The explosion would take out the cloudscoop as well.”
She gritted her teeth. No matter what she did, there were far too many variables.
“Captain,” Wheeler said. “We are in position.”
“There’s no hint they’ve detected us,” Weiberg added.
Kat’s lips twitched. The electromagnetic distortion around the gas giant made the cruiser’s cloaking device somewhat unreliable. An alert sensor crew, even relying on their passive sensors alone, might well have been able to detect Lightning’s presence. But the pirates didn’t seem to care about watching nearby space for intruders. Had they cowed the rest of the system? Or did they merely think no one would give a damn about the cloudscoop?
It isn’t as if Jorlem or Vangelis dispatched a ship to deal with the problem, Kat thought. If they knew, they just ignored it.
“On my command, drop the cloak and go to full tactical alert,” she ordered. “Sweep the station and the surrounding area of space with passive sensors, then open hailing frequencies.”
“Aye, Captain,” Weiberg said.
Kat braced herself. As soon as they dropped the cloak, they’d be committed.
“Drop the cloak,” she ordered.
She allowed herself a moment to imagine the enemy reaction as Lightning appeared out of nowhere. Pirates were scumbags, but they were spacers. They knew, on intuitive levels groundhogs never grasped, the reali
ties of interstellar travel. The iron laws of science guaranteed they were doomed. Kat didn’t need to throw anything more complex than a handful of KEWs, nothing more than rocky projectiles, to smash the cloudscoop into rubble. A single hit would be enough to render the entire structure unusable.
They can’t run, she thought. They have to feel trapped.
“Picking up emissions from the corvette,” Weiberg reported. The display updated, showing the enemy ship bringing up its systems. “They’re powering up the drive.”
Kat smirked. They didn’t have a hope of getting the corvette ready to fight in time.
“Captain, they haven’t responded,” Linda reported.
“Signal them again,” Kat ordered. Pirates were cowards at heart. The simple fact that she hadn’t blown the cloudscoop into falling debris would give them a little hope. But they had to make sure she knew they had hostages, if they wanted to get any use out of them. “Keep repeating the signal.”
“Aye, Captain,” Linda said.
Kat felt something coiling in her gut. The plan was dangerous enough . . . but what if she was wrong? What if she’d misjudged the pirates? A group of utter madmen might just dare her to storm the station . . . and if they did, she’d already given up the advantage of surprise. The bastards would have ample time to prepare to blow up the station and kill everyone.
“Picking up a response,” Linda said. “Audio only.”
“Put it through,” Kat ordered.
“. . . off, bitch,” a voice said, harsh, defiant . . . But Kat could hear fear underlying the pirate’s words. “Back off or we’ll kill the girls.”
“This is Captain Katherine Falcone of HMS Lightning,” Kat said, keeping her voice even. She had to seem calm. They had to think she was in control. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
“Fuck off,” the voice spat. “You’re dead, cunt!”
Kat ignored the insults. She’d heard worse. “Let me outline your position,” she said, briskly. “You are well within missile range. Your point defense is puny, and all I have to do is throw rocks to eventually destroy the station. There is no way you can power your ship up in time to fight, let alone make your escape. There is no way out.”
Cursed Command (Angel in the Whirlwind Book 3) Page 23