“How many shuttles are they sending?” Campbell asked from beside him.
“Glorious Shield carries twenty assault shuttles, twenty personnel shuttles, and twenty modular work craft,” Kelzin reeled off. “They’re sending all of them, with the modular birds set up for exterior repairs and most of the assault shuttles carrying the same engineers and doctors as the personnel shuttles.”
“The assault shuttles also have small but efficient med stations,” David said quietly. “Dr. Gupta will have all of the hands he needs.”
They had a disturbingly small number of wounded, roughly half injured in the fighting and the rest only partially asphyxiated in their quarters.
Costa had a lot to answer for.
The first shuttle lowered its ramp and, to David’s surprise, disgorged a small honor guard of uniformed Marines—followed almost instantly by Commodore Andrews himself.
“Captain Rice,” the officer greeted David, offering his hand. “Officer Campbell. Officer Kelzin. My people are coordinating as best they can to get aboard quickly. What are the priorities?”
“What we said before,” David said quietly. “Doctors and medical gear. We’ve more dead than wounded, sadly, but our doctor is overloaded.”
A tall, fair-haired woman followed the Commodore out and inclined her head to David.
“Surgeon-Commander Ziegler,” she introduced herself briskly. “I am Shield’s senior physician. Where is your medbay? It sounds like I need to get to work.”
“Jenna?” David asked.
“If you’ll follow me, Commander,” his XO said promptly.
The two women headed off deeper into the ship, and Andrews shook his head sadly.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”
“That wasn’t the plan,” David pointed out. “We were supposed to fall back on you. None of us anticipated Costa and Acconcio betraying us.”
“It always hurts to be betrayed,” the Commodore told him. “As I understand the situation, welcome to covert ops.”
David shook his head.
“This is a one-off,” he protested. “We got dragged into because we were available and the factions involved trusted us. No one is going to do that after this! They’ll know we called the Navy in on them.”
“Perhaps…not,” Andrews replied.
“Three corvettes escaped,” David said.
Andrews coughed delicately.
“No, they didn’t,” he admitted. “I sent three destroyers to demand their surrender, but they panicked and opened fire on my people. There were no survivors.”
David sighed.
“That’s probably for the best, though I hate to say that about more dead people.”
“Agreed,” Andrews replied. “But the point that must be considered, Captain, is that right now, the only people who have any idea how you survived this mess are mine, yours, and Costa and Acconcio.”
“Just Costa. He killed Acconcio himself,” David explained. There were possibilities in that, but they weren’t ones he wanted to poke at. Not yet. “Along with half of the people sleeping in their quarters.”
Andrews winced.
“And he’s still alive? I congratulate your self-control,” the Commodore said. “I’m not sure I would have been so merciful.”
“That was Mage Soprano,” David admitted. “I’m not sure I would have been so merciful.”
The Commodore nodded.
“Do you have the coordinates for the base you were delivering to?” he asked. “Turquoise is a problem for this region, and it’s not in my nature to leave a job half-done.”
“We do, but I’m pretty sure they’re garbage,” David told him. “Costa implied as much, told Soprano he knew where the base actually was.”
“Ah,” Andrews sighed. “Then it seems, my dear Captain, that I need to have my intelligence people talk to him. May I request that he turned over to our custody?”
“That…” David sighed himself. “That is probably wise. I’m not sure how long he would stay alive here.”
Maria stepped into Red Falcon’s tiny brig. She’d managed to grab a few hours of sleep to take the edge off the worst of the come-down from the Exalt, but movement was still a cautious, careful thing.
Shachar Costa sat in a small glass cubicle, his hands locked in front of him inside rune-encrusted manacles—the Mage-cuffs that restrained his powers. One of the security people had done a rough-and-ready first aid job on his ruined hand, coating it in instant cast to minimize infection or further damage.
“Come to gloat?” he asked once he saw her.
“Basically,” she agreed. “You failed. The Legacy’s little fleet has been destroyed, as has Turquoise’s. I’m going to suggest that we make the official story that you sold out the ambush to the Navy, setting your own people up for clemency.”
“The Navy?” Costa asked slowly.
“Is here,” she confirmed. “We’re turning you over to them shortly. They really want to talk to you about Turquoise’s little base. You might even be able to talk your way out of the death penalty if you’re a really helpful little bird.”
“Or you’ll tell my bosses I betrayed them and leave me out to swing?”
“Or the Navy will shoot you,” Maria said flatly. “Active involvement in a major act of piracy? We’ve more than enough evidence for the Navy Captains to convene an acceptable Admiralty Court and sentence you to death.”
She smiled.
“Please, try to not cooperate,” she told him sweetly. “Iovis may have betrayed us all, but damn it, I liked the big idiot. I definitely liked Anders, and there’s a stack of other bodies in the morgue that are all your fault.
“I really, really, really want the Navy to shoot you.”
He was silent, facing her wordlessly, for twenty seconds. Thirty.
“Did Xi make it?” he finally asked.
“Why do you care?”
“I’m a paid hacker, a murderer and arguably a monster,” Costa replied. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care, Soprano. It just means I’m very good at not listening to that part of me.”
She snorted.
“Xi will live. No thanks to you.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know you don’t believe me,” he murmured, “but I’m glad to hear that.”
“You’re right: I don’t believe you,” Maria agreed. “So, I suggest you start thinking of ways to make yourself valuable to the Navy, because no one on this ship is going to beg for your pathetic life.”
David found Soprano leaning against the wall outside the brig, looking utterly exhausted.
“Maria?” he asked softly.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just exhausted. It’s been a hell of a few days, and that…bastard in there was the cause of most of it.
“And he had the nerve to ask how Xi was doing.”
“There’s a Marine squad coming to collect him now,” David told her. “The Navy will interrogate him. They’ll find out what he knows.”
“Good.” She shook herself. “I had a suggestion, boss. How to make him really sweat.”
“I’m listening.”
“We have the Navy officially announce that he was the one who sold out the ambush,” Maria told him. “Only Andrews knows why they were following us; we kept it pretty low-key.”
“So, Andrews can tell everyone that Costa sold out the Legacy,” David agreed. That was nasty. “I love it.
“But won’t people wonder why he ended up in a cell?”
“I’m sure Andrews and his intelligence people can come up with a reason for that,” she pointed out. “We just want him off this damn ship.”
“Agreed. I’ll pass the suggestion on.” David paused. He could hear the Marines approaching. “Now, I understand they’ve brought Combat Mages, but…”
“You want me to keep watch until he’s off the ship,” Maria finished for him.
“Exactly.”
“Wilco, skipper. How long until we need to jump?”
“We’ll be able to fly in about twelve hours, according to Andrews’s people,” he told her. “We’ll jump, however, when you and Wu are ready. We’re heading to Amber from here.” He shook his head. “Our part in this mess is over; Red Falcon has no place in the assault on a pirate base!”
“Agreed.” She shook her head. “I can’t deny I’d love to see one of those go right, but that’s the Navy’s job now.”
Her sadness over that was obvious for a moment.
“Amber is as close to home as I’ve got,” David reminded her. “We’ll find a bar for you to get drunk in if you want.”
That broke some of her mood and she shook her head at him.
“Given where MISS found me, I think I’m going to avoid bars for the next while,” she told him. “Lessons learned and all that.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the squad of Marines arriving, two Combat Mages in the lead.
“Commander Soprano, Captain Rice,” the leading Mage greeted with a prompt salute. “Mage-Lieutenant Mies Vance, RMMC. We’re here for Costa.”
“I’m not a Commander anymore, Vance,” Soprano pointed out. From the way the Marine Mage saluted her, they’d met before.
“I was on Swords at Dawn,” Vance said quietly. “You’re still the Commander to everyone who was.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, “but I’m okay with what happened, Lieutenant. My choices had to have consequences.” She glanced over at David. “I’m mostly okay with where I ended up, too.”
“Good to hear, ma’am.” Vance stepped up to the door. “Costa’s in here?”
“Yes,” David replied. “Mage Soprano and I will accompany you out. I want to make sure this son of bitch is off my ship.”
Vance smiled thinly.
“From what I understand this…individual got up to, I doubt his mother would admit to having him.”
46
Keiko Alabaster was richer than David liked to think about, and money very directly equaled power under Amber’s special sets of rules and laws. They’d mostly spent time together before in her apartment on Amber’s main orbital, but this time she’d invited him, Campbell and Soprano to her home on the surface.
He sat on the patio of the sprawling ranch house and looked out over a vast expanse of open plain. The house sat on the edge of an immense park funded by several dozen of Amber’s richest citizens, zoned to never be developed or adjusted from its original native state.
“I’m glad to have you here,” Keiko murmured in his ear, leaning against him. “It sounds like you had a rough few weeks.”
He shook his head and leaned back against her.
“This business with the Legacy is frustrating,” he admitted. “I think we’ve probably shattered most of their starship assets, which is mind-boggling all on its own, but from the sound of it, they’ll just recruit more.”
“You know I can protect you here,” she offered.
He smiled and nodded.
“A ship in harbor is safe, but that isn’t what ships were built for,” he quoted back at her. “I’m no better than my ship. I’m out of sorts on the ground, relaxing as it is sometimes.”
“Red Falcon is good for you,” Keiko agreed. “And damn, your new Ship’s Mage.”
He felt the elegantly tall woman smile against his ear.
“I know you, and I still had a flash of jealousy when I saw her,” she said with a giggle. “She’s had a rough time too, though. You can see it in her eyes.”
“She dodged a dishonorable discharge by the skin of her teeth,” David told his lover. “Red Falcon is her second chance.”
Keiko didn’t need to know the oddities of his crew situation. He trusted her, but that he had both an MISS agent and an entire Marine platoon aboard wasn’t something she needed to know.
“How long until you’re ready to fly?”
“Most of our repairs were taken care of before we made it here,” he admitted. “Selling off the cargo we ended up with might take a while, depending on the skill of my local broker, but I need to give my crew a bit of a break.”
His “local broker” bit his ear, just hard enough to hurt.
“The ‘skill of your local broker,’ my ass,” she told him. “You know I could have it off your hands tomorrow, but if I don’t get it sold, I get to keep you, is that what you’re saying?”
David laughed and tickled her. That distraction lasted a moment or so, but she turned a level gaze on him again soon enough.
“We’ll stay at least two weeks either way,” he told her. “My crew needs the rest and I need to hire replacements.”
He shook his head.
“Too many dead on this trip,” he admitted. “Amber’s a decent place to replace crew, but…”
“No one wants to replace crew,” Keiko agreed. “There are no reasons to have to replace crew that make up for the hassle, but them getting killed is about as bad as it gets.”
He leaned against her and closed his eyes, letting the sun sink into his skin as he forced himself to begin to relax.
“Yeah. And revenge isn’t in the cards. It costs too much.”
She giggled and ran her hands over his shoulder. “My dear Captain, you need to relax.” She turned him around and smiled wickedly at him as she met his gaze.
“I’m sure we can arrange something.”
He’d spotted the familiar destroyer Tides of Justice as their shuttle arced back towards Heinlein Station, so David wasn’t entirely surprised when they found a quartet of black-suited Protectorate Secret Service agents waiting for them in the dock.
“Captain Rice, Officer Campbell, Mage Soprano,” a soft-spoken young man with a Mage medallion greeted them. “I am Mage-Agent El-Ghazzawy, senior member of Hand Alaura Stealey’s security detail. Could the three of you come with us, please?”
“When a Hand invites you, is declining even an option?” David asked dryly.
El-Ghazzawy looked uncomfortable.
“I suppose you could,” he admitted. “This is only an invitation, after all.”
“It’s all right, Agent,” David told him. “If the Hand has come all this way, we may as well meet with her, right, ladies?”
Soprano calmly nodded her agreement. Campbell was looking at them both like they were insane.
“A Hand?”
“She has business with you three, yes,” El-Ghazzawy confirmed. “We have arranged a confidential meeting.”
That was when David realized that the docking bay was empty except for them. The Secret Service was trying to keep the Hand’s appointments, if not her presence, under wraps.
“Hands don’t show up at random,” he said quietly to Campbell. “We need to meet with her, whatever this is about.”
The Secret Service agent bowed his head.
“If you’ll follow me, please?”
Stealey hadn’t changed much since the last time David had met her. She was still a stocky, nondescript gray-haired woman. Today she wore a plain black suit and leaned against a window looking out from the edge of Heinlein Station’s ring.
The Station was angled to avoid the view being completely dizzying, but the planet outside was visibly moving. The Hand’s gaze was focused on it, and she held a glass of whisky in her hand.
“Would you three like a drink?” she asked without looking at them. “El-Ghazzawy knows where the people we rented this from hid the booze.”
“Water, please,” David told the agent. His officers nodded agreement, and the Secret Service agent produced three glasses in a few moments—and then bowed himself out of the room.
“While I’m quite certain you would have been happier never to see me again, Captain Rice, the truth of the matter is that I always knew we would end up like this,” Stealey told him. “Commodore Andrews’s report makes for fascinating reading. If we were being honest about what happened to anyone, the crime lords of the galaxy would start to fear your name.”
“I’d rather they just forgot it,” he admitted. �
�I don’t need them to think I’m useful to hire.”
“I do,” the Hand said flatly. “That both the Legatans and the underworld seem to regard you as a useful tool is of immense potential value to me, David Rice. I can use that.”
“And if I just want to fly cargo and be forgotten?” he asked. “Is that an option?”
“Do you think the Legacy will let you disappear?” Stealey asked. “They’ve been explicitly charged to see you dead. You’ve destroyed Turquoise. She might escape herself, but with the lost ships and lost base, she’s done.
“The Legacy will hunt you until they are destroyed. Underworld faction leaders like Turquoise will find you useful just for that.” She shrugged. “The Legatans, however, trust you. That has an entirely different scale of value.”
He sighed.
“Do you know what they’re planning?” he asked.
“No. That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Stealey said. “The components you were hauling suggest they’re building an antimatter production facility somewhere, but there’s so many cutouts and layers of deception involved here… You helped peel back some of the layers for us, but… Andrews didn’t learn anything new at Turquoise’s base.”
“I’m surprised,” David admitted. “She was definitely working with them.”
“Oh, yes,” the Hand agreed. “I’m relatively sure her people didn’t fit the station with an antimatter suicide charge.”
David winced.
“They blew themselves up?”
“I’m relatively sure someone else blew them up,” Stealey said dryly. She tapped a button on her wrist-comp, and a holographic display appeared in the middle of the room.
The space station in the center had started life as a prefabbed ring station. Even a quick glance told David that at least half of it was uninhabitable, open to space or otherwise wrecked. That still left a massive amount of real estate to be sitting in deep space.
A single destroyer of the same type they’d fought orbited the station, with a surprisingly strong fleet of two dozen corvettes…
“What is that?” he asked, gesturing at the unfamiliar cigar-like ship hovering behind the station from his viewpoint.
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