“Get up,” the leader said. He watched as Kat made a show of struggling to rise, then reached down and yanked Kat to her feet. “It’s time to go.”
Kat braced herself as the pirates thrust her out of the hatch and down the corridor. The lights seemed dimmer, somehow. She wondered if the pirates had deactivated the fusion core during their mad scramble to leave. The batteries would eventually run down, leaving the entire station dead in space. She couldn’t help wondering, as she was pushed through a series of hatches, if something had gone badly wrong. If the plan had failed . . .
“Our ship,” the leader sneered. He nodded towards the airlock. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay.”
“Of course,” Kat said. The hatch began to open. Had something gone really badly wrong? If the plan failed, she’d have no choice but to use her implants to kill herself. “Perhaps we could play a round or two of cards while we crawl out of the gravity well.”
The leader shoved her into the bulkhead. Kat grunted in pain as she felt her nose break, warm liquid flowing down to stain her uniform. She’d pushed him too far. She felt more than heard the pirate drawing a knife from his belt . . .
“My ship has kept me alive for years,” the leader snarled. “And you . . .”
The lights went out. Kat reacted instinctively and dropped to the deck, trying to crawl away. A weight landed on her back—she gasped as the breath was knocked out of her—a second before she heard a dull thud. Someone started shooting, bullets ripping into the compartment, only to be silenced a moment later.
“Bitch,” the leader growled. Kat felt his fist slamming into her back. “What have you—?”
He was yanked away, hard. Kat allowed herself a moment of relief a second before the lights came back on. The pirates were lying on the deck, dead or unconscious; marines were standing over them, wearing black armor. One of them stamped over to Kat and helped her back to her feet. His helmet snapped open a moment later, revealing Davidson’s face.
“Kat,” he said. “I . . .”
He caught himself. “Let me remove those cuffs, Captain,” he said. “And then you’re going to see the medic.”
Kat sighed in relief as the metal cuffs were cut away from her skin. “You managed to gain control of the station?”
“Slipped into their ship as soon as you docked,” Davidson said. The pirates had known she was coming in a shuttle, but it had never occurred to them that an entire platoon of Marines might be clinging to the hull. “We now have complete control of their vessel as well as the station itself. No surprises as far as we can see.”
“We’ll have to do a thorough search,” Kat said. She’d done her best to arrange things to make sure that the pirates would have limited time for mischief, but they’d probably had enough time to rig a destruct charge. “Did Crenshaw pick up the hostages?”
“He did,” Davidson confirmed. “They’re in sickbay now.”
Kat rubbed her nose, then forced herself to stand still as the Marine medic poked and prodded at the wound. The pain was already fading. She’d be left with a throbbing sensation she knew would be gone in time and a story she suspected would grow in the telling until everyone believed she’d stormed the station stark naked and killed everyone with her bare hands.
“The nose will need some work, but it’s OK for now,” the medic said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Not such a pretty face any longer,” Kat said, ruefully.
“You’ll be back to normal tomorrow,” Davidson assured her. He motioned for the medic to leave the compartment, then lowered his voice. “That was immensely brave . . .”
He gazed at Kat and gently touched her shoulder. “Do you know how many things could have gone wrong?”
“Yes,” Kat said. “But I didn’t see any other choice.”
She rubbed her wrists absently. Her entire body wanted to shake, and shake badly. Indeed, she knew just how many things could have gone wrong. And the pirate’s touch had left her feeling filthy . . .
But I won, she thought, looking at the bodies. The pirate who’d groped her was among the dead. I fucking won!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I don’t know how we can ever thank you,” Manager James Hammond said.
Kat smiled at him as reassuringly as she could. The poor man was twitching backwards and forwards, as if he expected a blow to fall at any moment. His family—six adults, twelve children—hadn’t been physically harmed, but they had been traumatized. They’d known what would happen when the pirates no longer needed them. And even now, onboard a heavy warship with freedom restored, Hammond still feared the worst. Kat had a nasty feeling he and his family would be heading back to the core worlds soon.
“Just tell everyone what we did,” she said. It was simply too good a story not to tell. And the trick wouldn’t work twice. “Make sure they know the Commonwealth came to the rescue.”
“I will,” Hammond promised. “And thank you for taking care of my family.”
“You’re welcome,” Kat said. She cocked her head slightly. “Do you intend to return to the cloudscoop?”
“I don’t know,” Hammond admitted. “Are you planning to remain here permanently?”
Kat shook her head ruefully. The pirates had apparently threatened the remainder of the system’s settlements into sullen submission once the settlements had realized that something was wrong on the cloudscoop. Even now, the locals didn’t have the firepower to fend off another pirate attack once Lightning departed. Unless . . .
“I think we’ll be staying here for a couple of days,” she said. The freighter crews wouldn’t be pleased, but they’d have to live with it. “After that . . . I don’t know.”
“I’ll have to discuss future plans with my family,” Hammond said. “Staying here . . . I thought it would be a good way to get in on the ground floor. But instead . . .”
“Let me know what you decide,” Kat said. She touched her nose self-consciously. The doctor had fixed the damage—no one would be able to tell Kat’s nose had been broken—but she still felt a dull ache that wouldn’t fade for a few more days. “If you wish, I can transport you to Jorlem or Vangelis.”
“Thank you. I will let you know,” Hammond promised.
Kat was struck by a wave of sympathy as the older man was escorted out of her Ready Room. His family had been brave to set up a home so far from civilized space . . . and the move had cost them badly. She would understand if he wanted to go back to the core worlds, or even just set up shop at Vangelis. His nerves might have been shot to hell for good.
Her door chimed. “Come.”
Crenshaw stepped into the Ready Room, the hatch shutting behind him. “Captain,” he said. “I have the latest report from the away team. The cloudscoop is in good working order, despite the marines subverting its command software. The enemy ship is in . . . rough, but acceptable condition.”
Kat lifted her eyebrows as she motioned him to a chair. “Rough, but acceptable?”
“She’s not going to kill her crew tomorrow,” Crenshaw said. His voice was crisp, yet sounded as if he was distracted by an even weightier matter. “In the long term, she’ll need a great deal of work, but she’s not an immediate problem. Her missile bays are well-stocked too. We could probably reconfigure them to launch from our tubes.”
“I was thinking we might leave her here,” Kat mused. “How big a crew does she need?”
“Ten would be sufficient, for the moment,” Crenshaw said. “But ideally she’d need at least thirty experienced spacers for long-term operations.”
He paused. “You don’t plan to sell her?”
“The cloudscoop is vitally important,” Kat reminded him. “Losing it will drive prices up all over the sector and heighten dependence on the more developed worlds. If we left the corvette with the locals, they’d have a better chance at defending themselves against any future attacks.”
“Not against Glory of God,” Crenshaw pointed out.
“No, but few pirates would da
re to take on a warship even when the odds were in their favor,” Kat said. “And, realistically speaking, having a star system out here that owes us something might be better for us, in the long run, than a few thousand additional crowns.”
“I suspect the crew might disagree,” Crenshaw said dryly.
“They’ll have to live with it,” Kat countered. “And we can definitely make sure there’s something nice in their pay packets for when they take shore leave.”
“Yes, Captain,” Crenshaw said.
Kat took a breath. “Open discussions with the settlers,” she ordered. “Offer them the corvette in exchange for intelligence sharing, nothing else.”
“They don’t have much else to offer,” Crenshaw said.
“Yeah,” Kat agreed.
She looked at Crenshaw for a long moment. He still seemed distracted. Kat waited, wondering if he was going to come right out and say what was on his mind. But the XO said nothing.
Her patience snapped. “Was there something else?”
“Yes, Captain,” Crenshaw said. He looked almost relieved. “Permission to speak freely?”
Kat hesitated, then nodded. “Granted.”
“What you did was absolutely insane,” Crenshaw said. “Do you know what could have happened to you?”
He went on before she had a chance to answer.
“They could have smuggled you out of the system,” he added, his voice rising sharply. “They could have raped and murdered you, or sent pieces of your body to your family, or even handed you over to the Theocracy! You could have been killed out of hand . . .”
“I was aware of the dangers,” Kat said stiffly.
“I couldn’t have fired on a ship carrying you,” Crenshaw insisted. “They could have waltzed out of the system with you and we could have done nothing! It could have gone horrendously wrong!”
“Yes, it could,” Kat agreed. “But it didn’t.”
“You’re not meant to put your life at risk,” Crenshaw said. “I should have gone.”
“You’re not so valuable,” Kat pointed out. She doubted the pirates would have known who Crenshaw was if she’d offered him as a hostage. “I had to offer them a prize worth the risk of playing along with me.”
“You could have been killed,” Crenshaw repeated.
Kat took a long breath. “Thank you for your commentary,” she said coldly. She resisted the urge to rise to her feet. “Do I get to make a response?”
Crenshaw met her eyes with a stubborn gaze.
“I am a serving officer in the Navy,” Kat said. “Risk is part of my life, and it is part of yours. We do what we can to minimize risk, but we cannot eliminate it altogether. If I had wanted to stay safe, I would have stayed at home.”
She looked back at him, wondering just how much of his concern was for her instead of for his own career. If he’d gone back home, having watched helplessly as his commanding officer was kidnapped or killed . . . his career would have been blown out of the water. Candy wouldn’t help him find another posting if her sister had died on his watch. And the Admiralty would have grave doubts about any officer who allowed his CO to set out on a suicidal solo mission.
I couldn’t think of an alternative, she told herself, numbly. Nothing that minimized the risk to others . . .
She shook her head. “This uniform charges us with the protection of innocent civilians,” she reminded him. “It is our job to put ourselves between them and harm. My life is far less important than theirs.”
“With all due respect, Captain . . .”
Kat spoke over him. “Which one of the hostages would you like to sentence to death, in my place? The nine-year-old girl? The sixteen-month-old baby boy? Or the thirteen-year-old girl, just old enough to understand the threat looming over her . . .
“Which one would you ask to die in my place?”
“I wouldn’t,” Crenshaw said. “But I wouldn’t want you to die either.”
“Over thirty thousand military personnel have died in the war so far,” Kat reminded him. “I have no idea how many civilians have died, or how many Theocrats have died. This isn’t a movie and I don’t have a patriotic scriptwriter . . .”
She stopped and took a breath. “I understand your concerns. And if you want to write them into the log, you may do so. I don’t believe the Admiralty will be too concerned. All’s well that ends well. But if you feel otherwise . . .”
“I don’t like it,” Crenshaw said. “You shouldn’t have taken such a risk.”
“I saw no choice,” Kat said.
She met his eyes. “I have no doubt that someone will come up with the perfect solution to the whole problem,” she added. “Some smartass in a rear office who’s never set foot on a starship in his entire career. He’ll say I should have done this, or that, or . . . whatever. I had to come up with a plan on the fly, and it worked.”
“Barely,” Crenshaw said.
“We got the hostages out, we liberated the cloudscoop, and we killed or captured a bunch of pirates,” Kat reminded him. “I’d say it was a good day’s work.”
She allowed her voice to harden. “Like I said, if you want to write your concerns into the log you may do so,” she said with a new edge in her voice. “For the moment, however, go open discussions with the locals.”
“Aye, Captain,” Crenshaw said, stiffly.
He rose and saluted, then headed for the hatch. Kat watched him go, feeling oddly discontented. Sir William wouldn’t have been happy either, she knew, but he would have understood. And he would have known, on an instinctive level, that she had to do whatever it took to liberate the hostages. Crenshaw, on the other hand . . .
She sighed. He’d make himself look a fool if he wrote his concerns into the log now, but the Admiralty might still take note. She’d taken a terrifying risk . . .
Her intercom bleeped. “Captain, this is Davidson,” he said. “My team has completed the interrogations.”
“Come up here,” Kat ordered, feeling exhausted. “We may as well go through them together.”
She opened her terminal as she waited for him to reach the Ready Room and glanced through the first set of reports. A couple of pirates had died under interrogation, their implants detecting the mind probes and self-destructing, but the others had talked freely. Their cooperation wouldn’t make any difference to their final fate, she knew. They’d had their chance to surrender and declined.
The hatch opened. Davidson stepped into the Ready Room.
“I was just looking at the reports,” Kat said as she rose and strode over to the sofa. “They don’t have that much to say.”
“There’s a bit,” Davidson said. He sat next to her and held out a datapad. “There’s a long list of contacts on several worlds, including Jorlem.”
Kat frowned. “Brilliant,” she said sarcastically. “President Alexis will be getting plenty of kickbacks.”
“Probably,” Davidson agreed. He didn’t look concerned. “Although we might be doing him an injustice, Kat. The contacts seem involved in smuggling out spare parts and crewmen as well as fencing their ill-gotten gains. I doubt the planetary government will take that lightly.”
“Perhaps,” Kat said. It was yet another political hot potato. If President Alexis wasn’t involved, asking him to round up the pirate contacts would be easy. But if he was involved, making the request would be enough to tip the pirates off. They’d go underground before Kat could find another way to get to them. “I’ll have to discuss it with the Foreign Office.”
She shook her head in frustration. Pirates were an interstellar menace. No one would do more than file an ineffective complaint if she blockaded Jorlem until the pirates and their supporters were handed over to her, but Glory of God made that impossible. If the ship’s commander chose to fight in defense of the planet . . . Hell, for all she knew, the Theocracy was involved in smuggling weapons and supplies to the pirates.
“Maybe they’ll send us some reinforcements,” Davidson said.
Kat
doubted it. Lightning would have been sent on her own if Uncanny hadn’t had such a bad reputation. Besides, she’d need a couple of superdreadnoughts to handle Glory of God, and it was unlikely the Admiralty would send them away from the front lines. There was no way they could be recalled in less than a couple of months, whatever happened. And battles had been won or lost before on the presence or absence of a single ship.
She looked up at Davidson. “Did they have anything to say about the Theocracy?”
“Nothing,” Davidson said. “Of course, they might not know who they’re dealing with.”
“Of course,” Kat agreed tartly.
She looked down at the datapad for a long moment. They’d done well, she knew; they’d uncovered the existence of an entire pirate support network threaded throughout the sector. A competent investigation would be more than enough to root out the remainder of the ring and eliminate them. But Jorlem . . . it was all too possible that the pirates would be warned before they could be arrested. The only advantage she could hope to gain was disrupting the network for a few months, perhaps a year . . .
“I think we drained them dry,” Davidson said finally. “Do you want to keep them alive?”
Kat shook her head. “They didn’t surrender,” she said. Her skin crawled as she remembered the pirate running his hands over her body. “And they have done too much to be left alive.”
She keyed the datapad, bringing up the death warrants and ticking them off, one by one. The pirates would be marched to the nearest airlock and launched into space on a trajectory that would eventually send their bodies plunging down into the gas giant’s atmosphere. By then, they’d be long dead. She wondered, idly, if she should order them shot first, then dismissed the thought. The horror of their death might just dissuade others from following the same course.
They deserve it, she thought, looking down at the reports. The pirates had gleefully confessed to a whole string of crimes as they ravaged their way across the sector. She had very few qualms about sentencing them to death. They are monsters.
Cursed Command (Angel in the Whirlwind Book 3) Page 25