“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tolvern said, irritably.
“Keep your shirt on. He’s our captain, that’s all I mean. We don’t want him looking like he’s scared. And you know this woman wants something bad or she wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to pull our stones out of the fire.”
“Could be revenge she’s after,” Drake said. “I’m still not ruling that out.”
Capp shrugged. “Yeah, could be. She don’t seem too worked up about her old man, though. I’m guessing it’s something else.”
“How about if we go instead?” Tolvern said. “Capp and I will meet with her. First mate and the subpilot. That way she knows we’re serious, but you stay safely behind.”
Drake gave her a sharp look. “If you really think she’s up for revenge, then that’s the dumbest thing we could do. It wasn’t me who pulled the trigger, it was you.”
Tolvern thrust out her chin. “And I don’t regret it, either.”
“Be that as it may, you can bet she knows it, too. That she hasn’t asked to see you seems to suggest that this isn’t about revenge, but just in case, I’ll go, and I’ll go alone.”
“Captain, no. Whatever she wants, I don’t trust her.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t think I’m in physical danger, whatever she’s up to.”
“It’s not only physical danger that worries me.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
Tolvern dropped her eyes. “Never mind. It’s just a . . . I don’t know. A hunch, maybe, that it’s a bad idea.”
“I don’t follow hunches, Commander, so unless it’s backed with rational thinking, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Go ahead, Tolvern,” Capp said, studying the commander with a half smile on her face. “If you got something to say to the captain, you may as well spit it out.”
“No, I don’t have anything,” Tolvern said hastily.
“Don’t worry, Commander,” Drake said. “We’ll hold Catarina Vargus to her word. If she tries anything, if Orient Tiger looks to make a run for it, you will blast her out of the sky, whether I’m on board or not. Can you do that, even if I’m alive?”
Tolvern looked uncomfortable, but after a moment of hesitation, nodded.
“Will you swear to it? I need the threat to be a real one.”
“Yes, sir. I will fire on Orient Tiger and either destroy her or take her captive should Vargus try anything. I swear it.”
“Hold her to it, Lieutenant,” he told Capp. “I’m counting on both of you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Drake rose to his feet. “Very well. Prepare an away pod. Send a message to Orient Tiger that I’m on my way.”
#
A few minutes later, he was on a pod, soaring the dozen miles between Blackbeard and the smaller pirate frigate. When he was a few hundred yards from his destination, the other ship sent out a netted hook to snag him and bring him in. He emerged from the airlock to find himself facing Catarina Vargus.
She looked even more striking in person, with flecks of gold in her eyes and a piercing gaze. Perhaps more handsome than beautiful, but quite interesting to look at. She’d have made a good subject for a portrait, and it took little imagination to imagine her bare arms emerging not from a leather vest, but a fine gown at a ball on Albion. She’d have been sure to cause a sensation as young gentlemen tripped over themselves asking her to dance.
The two men standing with her in the corridor were another thing entirely. One had an artificial eye, and a scar running from his forehead to his throat. The other was the man with the missing arm, replaced by a Gatling gun, who they’d faced in the attack on the spaceyards. It would seem that Catarina Vargus had claimed some of her dead father’s crew.
“You’re taller than I thought,” she said.
“And you’re younger.”
“I’m twenty-nine. How old were you expecting?”
“Really? You look barely out of secondary school.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult or compliment?”
“An observation. Nothing more.”
“In that case, let me observe that you look ridiculous in that uniform. The whole sector knows you’re a fugitive from the Royal Navy, so why you’re wearing the red and gold as if you still have some sort of rank or status is beyond me.”
“I suppose you’d have me wearing an eye patch with a Jolly Roger on it,” Drake said. “Perhaps carry a flask of rum wherever I go. Is that what you’d like, Vargus?”
“Please, I don’t stand on ceremony here. Vargus is my father. My name is Catarina.”
“You will excuse me, but good manners and good breeding do not permit me to call a strange woman by her given name.”
“Is that so, James? In that case, does Captain Catarina suit you?”
Drake scowled. He had soured on her after that remark about his uniform and now wanted to get the meeting over with. “Well, here I am. Let’s go to your war room and hear what you’ve got to say.”
“I don’t have a war room.”
“Then wherever we can talk in private without your henchmen lurking over your shoulder. Unless you were lying, and these men mean to take me prisoner, in which case, I should warn you—”
“No, you are not a prisoner. I meant what I said. And I do have a private place. Come with me to my quarters. We’ll talk there.”
“Your quarters?”
“If you’re worried that your crew will gossip, feel free not to tell them.” She smiled. “Don’t worry about my crew. They well know my taste in lovers. There’s no real gossip in inviting you to my room. This way.”
He followed, unsure what she meant. Did her taste run to women, not men, or was she still going on about how ridiculous he looked in his Royal Navy uniform? Either way, he was irritated that he’d followed her all this way only to find her playing games.
The pirate frigate was perhaps half the size of his own Blackbeard, but you’d never have guessed it by the size of Catarina Vargus’s state room. It had a sitting room that opened into the kitchen, with a separate bedroom and bathroom. The open bathroom door revealed both a bathtub and a shower. The furnishings weren’t as luxurious as Admiral Malthorne’s quarters on Dreadnought, but it was of equal size.
Drake looked around, wondering. “Your crew doesn’t complain?”
“They are too well paid to complain. Each man and woman on board received a bonus of ninety pounds when we put out from San Pablo, plus a promise of a share in whatever booty we take.”
“If you had that kind of money on hand, why did you attack us at the yards?”
“That was a point of honor, not money. My father could have counted the loss of Captain Kidd as a hazard of the business and taken this frigate instead. But that wouldn’t have satisfied his anger. Besides, I didn’t attack you, my father did. Please take a seat.”
She’d moderated her tone now that they were alone, and the insult to Drake’s sense of propriety had begun to ease. She pulled a bottle of wine from a rack on the wall and set it in front of him. A wine from New Catalunya, the ’04 vintage, which was exceptionally expensive.
“I am indeed honored,” he said as she returned with glasses and a corkscrew.
“I suppose with your ‘breeding’ you are an expert in wine. But I should warn you to dampen your hopes. The wine is drinkable enough, but the label is a lie. It’s no ’04 New Catalunya. This was looted from a wine smuggler and counterfeiter. It’s really a ’27 Mercia.”
“Ah, that’s a disappointment.”
“Aye.”
Nevertheless, the wine was palatable, and his mood continued to improve. “I apologize for being testy. I am grateful for your help at Hot Barsa. I was in a tight spot, I won’t deny it.”
Catarina chuckled. “Your stones were well and truly on the anvil. By the time the Royal Navy finished with you, I expect they would have been pounded to jelly.”
“You have a strange way with words. One moment, you sound like an Albion lady, and the
next a Ladino smuggler.”
“As well I should. My father is a pirate, and my education included finishing school.”
“How is that so?”
Another smile. “Never you mind. Finish your wine. We’ll have a pipe together before we get down to business.”
“And you’re not going to attack me because of what happened to your father?” Drake asked. “That isn’t what this is all about?”
A shadow passed over her face, but it was gone just as quickly. “On the contrary, I’m grateful to you for that. He was never much of a father to me, and anyway, I was tired of obeying his whims. Now look at me. My own ship, no master to order me about. I’m like you, James, free and unencumbered. We are lords of space, our realm endless.”
“For being lords, we sure fled Hot Barsa in a hurry.” Drake took the offered pipe and pinched out tobacco from the silver dish. “My realm is my ship, and even there, my rule is tenuous.”
Catarina leaned back in her chair and lifted the pipe to her mouth. A smoke ring hovered above her head, slowly dissipating. She studied him with a penetrating gaze, and he got the impression that she was about to get to the heart of the matter.
“I look at you, sitting stiffly in your navy uniform, and I have one question for you, Captain James Drake. Are you still hoping to return to the navy, or are you ready to turn against your former masters once and for all?”
Chapter Thirteen
Drake didn’t answer the question right away. He took several puffs on his pipe before he was ready to respond.
“I am still loyal to Albion,” he said at last, “and as soon as she offers the olive branch, I will return to service.”
“Pretty words, but I hear a caveat in your tone,” Catarina said.
“I do not see anything in Albion’s behavior that would indicate such an offer will be made. And I find myself at odds with the current lord admiral, who I believe to be corrupt and wicked. I harbor some hope that the crown may intervene, or perhaps old friends in the navy may assert themselves on my behalf, but those hopes are fading. Do you have some specific proposal to make?”
“Two proposals, actually.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a shipment of tyrillium ore on its way to the Hroom world of Res II. The empire is trying to rebuild its fleet and needs the tyrillium for armor. It’s a Ladino ship out of Peruano, all perfectly legal. But this particular operation is planning to do some slaving on its way back out. Don’t ask how I know, but it’s true. The inbound cargo is extremely valuable, and the ship is armed and escorted.”
“You want me to help you seize the tyrillium as loot,” he surmised, “and are using as justification that the merchants are engaged in the slave trade. Why would that matter to me?”
“You attacked a merchant ship to retrieve your pilot, who had been enslaved.”
“A mission which largely went awry, and most of the slaves were killed in the fight.”
“So you are not against the slave trade?”
“It is a pernicious evil,” he said, “but I have not made it my particular mission in life.”
“Oh? And what was it you retrieved from Hot Barsa?”
“Yes, let’s talk about that. You claim to have bugged my ship, but it’s a curious device that sends back not just my location, but my motives for moving to that location.”
“The device is on your bridge and records your conversations,” she said.
“So your device is large enough to open a subspace channel and send through a stream of audio data? That beggars the imagination. In fact, I’ll wager that you have no such device on board.”
“Tell your engineers to look again.”
“Let’s not insult each other by dancing around what we both know to be true. There is no device. You have a spy, plain and simple.”
“Supposing I do. Does that materially change the facts of the situation?” Catarina set aside her pipe to let it smolder and die. “This proposal benefits the both of us. We’ll work together to seize the tyrillium ship. You have more muscle, but I have located the target, and I will fence the goods once taken. I think a 50/50 split is a more than generous offer on my part.”
Drake couldn’t believe that simple piracy was her entire motive. Orient Tiger may not be the match of either Blackbeard or her father’s old ship, but it was certainly capable of ranging about space preying on lesser prizes. She didn’t need to charge after armed and escorted merchants in the company of her father’s killer.
“You said you have two proposals.”
“Oh, James, don’t sound so suspicious. Here, have some more wine. No? Maybe some music will take the edge off. Do you like classical music?”
“I do. What do you have?”
“Everything I can pirate,” Catarina said with a wink. She pulled out her hand computer and set it to something early and baroque.
“The person I intend to sell the tyrillium to is another Hroom,” she continued, “a middleman on one of the core empire worlds. If we can surprise the merchant vessel and take it intact, it will be able to jump itself through. But the trip will be dangerous, what with your friends having started another war. And I’ve heard hints that the Hroom are having trouble in their core systems.”
“You mean internally? A sugar rebellion?”
“I don’t know. My contact says there is fighting, that’s all I know. Perhaps a civil war, perhaps something else. It’s the inward flank, where humans are forbidden. Everything I’ve heard is third, fourth hand. But never mind that. I’ve been promised an unbelievable sum of money if I can get my cargo to my contact.”
“Define unbelievable.”
“Over two hundred thousand guineas. Pay our respective crews, then take our captain’s shares. That’s forty thousand pounds apiece, assuming we survive, of course.”
He let out a low whistle. An unpleasant thread of greed tugged at him. “Lords of space, indeed. I could buy an estate the size of my father’s with forty thousand pounds.”
“I would have thought Albion real estate to be more dear.”
“It is a small estate,” he admitted. “On one of the lesser Zealand Islands.”
“My ambition is greater than to retire in comfort on Albion. But never mind that. You would be traveling deep into Hroom territory. If you wish to distribute this object you took from the lord admiral’s estate, this would be your opportunity.”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he admitted.
Drake hadn’t yet heard word from his new science officer. Brockett was still setting up his lab and needed to be sure he could successfully replicate the antidote with existing equipment.
“What does your pilot think of this?” she asked. “He’s a former sugar eater. He must have strong opinions.”
“He is eager,” Drake said. “No, more like anxious. Going deeper into Hroom space might put him off for a spell while I figure things out.”
“What is there to figure out? Either you wish to free the Hroom or you do not.”
“Either we will have human domination of the sector, or I will give that privilege to the Hroom. That is what is at stake, Catarina. Imagine if I break the sugar addiction in the Hroom race, and the empire regains its former vigor. There are billions of Hroom. We’ll be crushed.”
She shrugged. “Space is vast, endless. The Kingdom of Albion isn’t my concern. There is always another planet, another place to colonize.”
Drake had finished his pipe and was back to drinking wine, even though he couldn’t recall asking her to fill his glass. In spite of every instinct to the contrary, he was enjoying himself, not just the conversation, but looking at Catarina Vargus. She was a beautiful woman.
“I’ve left this region of space,” she said. “Twice, in fact, and in this very ship. The first time was after a disagreement with my father. In short, he was being a tyrant again. I hired a crew and set off for Earth.”
“Earth!”
“I didn’t make it, of course. Too many wars, t
oo many lawless systems. Even natural hazards to work around—black holes and gamma bursts. I did meet two ships from the original home system, though. Paid a fortune for a shipment of genuine Old Earth scotch. When I finally limped home, I sold the scotch for two fortunes. The money and a bottle of the good stuff was enough to earn me back into my father’s good graces.”
“And the other time?”
“A few months ago, during the most recent war. Word had it that a big Albion fleet was on its way to San Pablo to invade and occupy the Hroom continent.”
“That was a feint. We were really attacking the empire port at Kif Lagoon.”
“Yes, well it worked. As a feint, I mean. An empire fleet showed up, and those of us with common sense decided not to stick around and see how it would play out. My father was recovering from battle injuries, and I was commanding Captain Kidd. I’d got my hands on an old Hroom chart and discovered that some of the jump points were still active. Thought I’d get out there and have a look around while things were too hot in the known systems. That was thrilling.
“First week out we narrowly escaped the jaws of a space leviathan, then debris battered the hull when we stumbled into an uncharted asteroid field. We blind jumped twice and were attacked by an unknown ship. Some alien race—not Hroom. Fortunately, its weapon systems were more primitive than ours, and it had already been mauled in some other battle, so its shields were weak. We destroyed it and hauled in bits of its wreckage. Sold that later to the Royal Navy, who are always curious about who else might be out there.
“By now my crew was on the verge of mutiny,” Catarina continued. “I’d lied to them about where we were going, thinking we’d find something useful to plunder before they were on to what I was about. Only we hadn’t, just some worthless alien tech from the derelict. My father came out of the sick bay to discover us sixty light years from the nearest known system. God, was he angry. You ever been keelhauled by your own father?”
Drake’s father was a gentle, even indulgent landlord, who had trouble evicting tenants late on their rents, even when they’d gotten themselves in trouble by borrowing money for gambling debts. “No, I can’t imagine such a thing.”
Lords of Space (Starship Blackbeard Book 2) Page 11