Rebel

by Mike Shepherd

  “They just needed a reminder of who they are. Can we beat that bastard?”

  “That all depends on who he’s got behind him on that bridge and what he’s got on that poor benighted soul.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  CHAPTER 33

  EXACTLY five minutes from when he cut the commlink, Giorgio’s sneering face was back on the screen.

  “I will take your surrender now.”

  Vicky stood to face him. “We will blow you to hell.”

  “Be careful what you say, little girl. This is your last chance to surrender. If you don’t, we will take no prisoners when we blow your little toy out of space. St. Petersburg will be next. I do not intend to occupy it. Too many troublemakers there. We’ll blast its cities from orbit, and when they are begging for us to land, maybe we will. Maybe we’ll give them a chance to see that we enjoy our visit with no complaining from the survivors.”

  He seemed to be really enjoying his fantasy.

  “You get to them through us,” Vicky said, heat tempering each of her words. “Know this: Your threats can come back at you. We will give no quarter, either. The crew of your ships can rise up and toss you out the air locks now, or they can die with you. The choice is theirs.”

  In the background, Vicky could make out a few bridge personnel in Navy ship suits. Several of them faltered in their work as her words struck home.

  “You know you’re going to lose this fight,” she added. “This idiot had us outnumbered three to one in battleships and cruisers, but he had to come charging down at us alone. He gave us a fair fight. How stupid can you get?”

  Now the officers on that bridge were glancing around at each other. A short, thin man wearing captain’s stripes stepped into view. “She may be a ‘little girl,’ but she spotted the mistake I told you you were making.”

  Giorgio waved his hand dismissively. From off screen came two shots; the captain’s head exploded, and he dropped. Giorgio wiped blood and gray matter from the sleeve of his red coat. “That’s what happens to those who cross me. Who’s next?”

  No one on the bridge said a word.

  “I mean who’s next to run this shit hole of a boat?”

  A tall commander stepped forward. His face was unreadable.

  “Blow those rebels out of my space,” the redcoat snapped.

  “Yes, sir,” the commander said, dispassionately, and the commlink was cut.

  Vicky found she’d forgotten to breathe. Now she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before sitting down and turning to Captain Bolesław. “Do you know those two Navy officers?”

  “The captain was a friend of mine, only a class behind me. The commander, I know of. Both are good ship drivers. Likely, they know something about fighting a ship.”

  “And even more likely, their wives and families are under lockdown by redcoat thugs.”

  “We couldn’t all get our families out of the Empress’s grasp,” the captain said.

  “Captain,” came from Lieutenant Blue, “the Empress’s Revenge is putting on battle revolutions. She’s shimmying. No, they’ve gone back to a steady boat. One of the cruisers had to steady back down as well, but the others are working their way up to twenty RPMs.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. Comm, send to fleet, begin battle RPMs smartly on my mark.”

  A moment later communications reported, “All ships have reported ready for battle RPMs, sir.”

  “Helm?”

  “Ready upon your mark.”

  “Comm, send my mark.”

  “Mark sent.”

  Around Vicky, Retribution began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until the bridge was spinning at twenty revolutions per minute. Vicky cinched herself tight into her high-gee station. Beneath her, the battleship spun but stayed steady as a rock.

  “Good girl,” Captain Bolesław was heard to mutter as he patted the side of his battle board.

  “The fleet has come up to battle RPMs smartly,” Lieutenant Blue reported. “Not a burble,” he added.

  Captain Bolesław grinned. “Let those redcoats see how the real Navy handles itself.”

  Vicky grinned, too. “It’s always impressive when professionals do it the right way. It’s intimidating to amateurs who don’t have a clue.”

  “So quoteth we Admiral Krätz,” Captain Bolesław agreed.

  “I may have spoken too soon,” Lieutenant Blue said, painfully. “The Slinger just sloughed off a chunk of her ice armor and is killing her RPMs as fast as she can. She lost more chunks of ice while she was steadying up.”

  “Tell Captain Mason to get his damage control out there and patch that armor. No, Comm, belay last message. He knows what he needs to do as well as I do. Damn. I thought we could trust the repairs High Brunswick made better than that.”

  “They may just be out of practice,” Vicky said.

  “Yeah, aren’t we all. Comm, send to Slinger. ‘Conform your course to the merchants’ line.’”

  “Will do, Retribution. Sorry about this. I thought the yard assured us of its high quality a bit too much. We’ve got every hand I can spare out filling in the holes in our armor. I’ll be back in the battle line as soon as I can manage.”

  “I’d expect no less from Slinger,” Captain Bolesław said.

  “Did I speak too soon about our bloody-handed duke getting himself in over his head?” Vicky asked.

  “It is starting to look more like two-to-one odds than it did before,” the skipper admitted.

  One of the cruisers remaining with Retribution pulled ahead. Now they mirrored the hostiles approaching them. A destroyer led a cruiser followed by the Empress’s Revenge and Empress’s Vengeance. The other cruiser and destroyer trailed the battleships.

  “He is concentrating his heavies on Retribution,” Captain Bolesław said softly.

  “Is that the duke or your commander or some other Navy officer?” Vicky asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s going to cause me pain. If I concentrate Retribution on Revenge, I can hurt her, but that will leave Vengeance unmolested. If I concentrate the cruisers on their opposite number, they can get in some licks, but if our fight ends with those two battleships still punching, my cruisers are dead.”

  “Are their cruisers carrying 8-inch or 9.2-inch lasers?” Vicky asked.

  “Lieutenant Blue, you have not been earning your pay. What sort of guns are those ships carrying?”

  “I was afraid you would ask,” the lieutenant on sensors answered.

  “And why might you have that fear?”

  “I’m getting more jamming than I’ve ever had from Navy ships, sir. I’ve said their reactors seem to be about the same power as ours, but I can’t make out the make or model. Same for the lasers and capacitors. Either they’ve been built with systems that aren’t in our book, or something is making hash out of the signals I’m taking off them.”

  “Have you heard anything about the Empress building an entirely new fleet of ships?” Captain Bolesław asked Vicky.

  “There are supposed to be a pair of new huge battleships building, but only two, not three,” Vicky said. “Everything else I’ve heard involves them snatching active ships from the fleet. Also, the new ships were supposed to get captains from outside the Greenfeld fleet. You knew the Empress’s Revenge’s skipper and XO. I don’t think those are the Empress’s new toys. So, what is our bloody duck trying to hide?”

  “They could be hiding things just for the sake of hiding?” Lieutenant Blue said, eyeing his boards dubiously, much like Vicky was eyed when she claimed innocence.

  “Is there any chance that the duke was not talking to us from the lead battleship?” Captain Bolesław asked.

  “I thought for sure he was,” the lieutenant said, looking up.

  “If I concentrate Retribution on Revenge, and he’s on Vengeance, I may blow up the one ship I can get for sure but not get the one man I have to kill.”

  Lieutenant Blue worried his lower lip and started rerunning th
e communications they had tracked so far, both those to the destroyer that blew up the Pride of Darby and the two threats they’d gotten from the duke.

  Five minutes later, he shook his head. “You’re right, it looks like it’s all coming from the lead battleship, but there’s something strange about the signal. Something like I’ve never seen.”

  Captain Bolesław eyed Vicky.

  “We’ve been playing catch-up in the electronic and computer area with someone in Greenfeld,” she said. “Not just us, but Kris Longknife, too. Even her magnificent computer, Nelly, has been jammed during some incidents involving my stepmother’s assassins. I don’t much care for this.”

  “I don’t care for this at all. I know I can take out one of those ships, but I’m going to be hurting when I switch fire to the next one. If I kill the bastard, the rest may break off the fight. If I don’t kill him, it’s going to be a coin toss whether or not I can get the second one.”

  “Lieutenant Blue, put what you’ve got on our communications with the duke,” Captain Bolesław said.

  A quarter of the main screen was taken up by six blips. The communications seemed to originate from the lead battleship. “Concentrate on that lead battleship,” the skipper said, “and show us the point of origin of those communication signals.”

  “They sure look like they’re coming from that ship,” Lieutenant Blue said after they’d watched the communication cycle three times.

  “Computer,” Vicky said, “measure the location of that battleship and the loci of the communication signal.”

  “They are not congruent,” the computer said.

  “By how much?” Captain Bolesław demanded.

  “Twelve meters, sixty-two centimeters ahead of the Empress’s Revenge,” the computer said.

  “Remind me to ask that computer to do the measurement thing and spare my eyes,” the sensor lieutenant said.

  “When you’re dealing with a corkscrew brain, it helps to have someone with a corkscrew brain,” Vicky said. “Is the locus of the comm signal exactly midway between the communication antennae of the trailing battleship and the lead heavy cruiser?”

  “Yes,” said the computer.

  “They’re heterodyning the signal,” Captain Bolesław growled.

  “The cruiser isn’t showing anything like a battleship’s communications gear.”

  “They’ve either suppressed it or modified it to look like cruiser comm gear,” Vicky said.

  Lieutenant Blue studied his instruments for a long minute. “I sure don’t see it.”

  “Mr. Smith?” Vicky asked.

  “I am with the lieutenant. I don’t see it either, but I tend to support your conclusion even if I can’t find a valid basis for it.”

  “When we get in range, we target the second battleship in line, the Empress’s Vengeance,” Captain Bolesław said.

  “It looks that way,” Vicky said.

  “God help us all if we guess wrong,” the skipper added under his breath.

  CHAPTER 34

  THE gunnery officer on Retribution updated them as the two task forces decelerated toward the jump, and the range between them closed inexorably.

  “Ten thousand klicks until maximum range,” he said evenly.

  “Bring the task force up to battle revolutions,” Captain Bolesław ordered. This time the evolution went smoothly.

  Vicky eyed the two lines of dots on the screen. Both were backing toward the single point in space they needed to pass through to get into the St. Petersburg system. Unlike the earlier fights she’d been in with Captain Bolesław, there would be no maneuvering around to get a good shot at the enemy’s vulnerable engines and reactors. This fight would be a stand-up slugfest, with the battleships exchanging broadsides first, then the cruisers joining in as the range continued to close. The last man standing would be the winner.

  “Five thousand klicks,” came from Guns.

  “Fleet, prepare to go to Evasion Plan 1,” Captain Bolesław said, softly.

  “Aye, aye, sir. Evasion Plan 1 standing by,” answered the Retribution’s Helm. The two cruisers reported ready.

  Captain Bolesław pursed his lips. “We’ll hold off on the dancing for a bit. No need to show them what we got,” he told Vicky.

  She nodded. The fleet they’d fought off Brunswick hadn’t shown they knew to use evasive techniques like Kris Longknife did. No need to teach this butcher any tricks before they had to.

  “One thousand klicks to maximum range,” Guns informed them.

  “Give them a two-gun ranging shot when they come in range. Shoot for the lead battleship for that salvo, Guns. We’ll switch to the second battleship as soon as we know we have them in focus.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  Vicky took a long, slow breath.

  “We are in range.”

  “Begin evasion. Guns, ranging fire,” Captain Bolesław snapped.

  “We have been fired upon,” Lieutenant Blue said. “Two broadsides, wide dispersion.”

  “Put it on screen.”

  Half the main screen showed Retribution and her two cruisers as green dots. Around them, red rays cut the space. It was a wild pair of volleys that didn’t manage to focus on anything.

  “We scored one hit on the lead battleship,” Guns reported. The other half of the screen showed the six hostiles as six red dots of various sizes: small, medium, and large. The third dot, a large one, showed a green ray cutting close to it and another hitting it.

  “Guns, use your forward battery to burn one place on the second battleship, your aft battery to give it another deep burn.”

  “Fire,” Guns said.

  The three bow turrets that bore on the enemy shot six laser beams from Retribution at the target. Aft, three more turrets spat their fire. As Retribution rotated, one turret fore and aft was spun out of the line of fire. Others were brought to bear. Bow turret A was spent from the ranging shot, but turret D added its destruction to the mix.

  For two seconds, the lights dimmed as Retribution poured everything it had at its foe, then, capacitors empty, the turrets fell silent and began to reload.

  “One glancing hit forward,” Damage Control reported. “No damage. Bots are spraying in water to repair the armor.”

  “Very good,” Captain Bolesław said. “Guns?”

  “Got ’em with two salvos as tight as we could get them. At least six of them hit her, three and three. That bastard is spewing steam.”

  “Aim for the same spots, if you will. Let’s get this over with quick,” he told his gunnery officer. To Vicky he added quietly, “Before that bastard learns to dance.”

  Across from them, the hostiles stayed rigidly in line. Vicky eyed their own ships. The cruisers were still out of range of the other cruisers. They had opened the interval between them and Retribution to better avoid being hit by a miss.

  Still, her two cruisers maneuvered erratically per the evasion plan her computer had put together after watching the one Kris Longknife’s computer had her ships doing. As minimal as it was, it could be mistaken for skittish ship drivers having a tough time staying in formation.

  With any luck, the Butcher will be too proud to draw the right conclusion before we blow him to bits.

  Around Vicky, the bridge team went about their duties in dim battle lighting. Orders were softly given and received. It ran smooth as a drill. That was why a good captain drilled his crew unceasingly; so the real thing would go down just like a drill.

  Vicky looked around, as did Captain Bolesław, but both kept one eye on the countdown clock to when their capacitors would be reloaded. Would the other two battleships reload just as fast?

  “Do you have your target?” the skipper asked Guns softly.

  “Dialed in tight, sir.”

  The timer reached zero.

  “Fire,” Guns said, and again the lights dimmed.

  The screens showed rays reaching out from Retribution to spear the second battleship even as Sensors reported they were being stra
ddled by lasers from the opposing force.

  This time, Retribution took hits. The ship’s rotation distributed the lasers’ destruction. They burned ice and more ice as the boiling armor was spun away from the laser hits. Still, Retribution’s spin went out of true as holes in her armor unbalanced the ship.

  Pumps throbbed as they moved reaction mass and reserve water from one side of the ship to the other, struggling to rebalance the hull before its own protection ripped the ship apart as it shimmied and shook.

  Vicky found herself holding on tight to her battle board whether to save it . . . or herself . . . she was not at all sure. It seemed like forever, but in a few seconds, Damage Control did what it had been trained to do, and the Retribution steadied out.

  “The Empress’s Vengeance isn’t doing so well,” Lieutenant Blue reported on sensors. “She’s bouncing so much, she’s tossing off sheets of damaged ice armor.”

  “Good,” Captain Bolesław said. “Guns, how fast can you reload?”

  “No faster than the laws of physics allow, sir,” came back at him.

  Bolesław gritted his teeth and glanced at Vicky. “If I didn’t want the Butcher dead, I’d switch my fire to Revenge,” he muttered.

  “But we need him dead,” Vicky pointed out in gentle Grand Duchess mode.

  “Yeah,” the skipper grumbled, and turned back to his board.

  Again, the timer counted down the minutes until the huge 18-inch main batteries of Retribution were ready to speak again. Another part of Vicky’s board showed the effort by Damage Control to patch her battleship’s armor.

  The Empress’s lasers had cut deep into Retribution’s six-meter-thick armor. This time they’d done more than slice ice; they’d also cut refrigeration coils that kept the ice rock solid. Bots picked their way deep into the crevasse sliced by the lasers to crimp off tubing bleeding coolant into space. They then withdrew while other bots sprayed water into the jagged rents.

  In theory, the ice around the hole would cool the water and freeze it in place. In fact, new ice was never as solid as old ice, especially not without coolant coils to encourage freezing.