Dreadnought (Starship Blackbeard Book 3)

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Dreadnought (Starship Blackbeard Book 3) Page 6

by Michael Wallace


  “You don’t have half of what you promised. So bluff. Agree to his terms and figure it out later.”

  “The problem is, I’ve got to hand over the last of my money as soon as we’re in the Albion system. All the money I’ve legitimately got, that is. If we get there, and I pay out twenty-six to the pirates and six to my crew, then I literally have nothing. I can’t pay another eight to Aguilar, and when I don’t come up with the money, the rest will see I was bluffing about the final payoff. The bonus. They’ll know.”

  Of course, Isabel Vargus and the rest would be mad as hell once they’d risked their lives to run the forts, attack York Town, and rescue Drake’s parents. If they all turned on him, he’d be dead. But he was pretty sure Catarina wouldn’t attack him, and maybe they’d take loot from York Tower, look at the damage they’d suffered in the assault, and count themselves good. Why risk another brawl with Blackbeard that would get more of them killed?

  “Is it just Aguilar’s eight thousand holding you back?” Tolvern asked.

  “Well, that and the fact that he’s already proven himself a treacherous snake before he’s even joined the fleet. A true pirate.”

  “Good, then he fits right in.”

  Drake smiled. “Yes, it’s just the eight thousand.”

  Tolvern reached below her vest and pulled out a key on a chain. She set it on the table. “This opens my strongbox in the hold. My cut of the tyrillium haul was four thousand one hundred pounds. I’ve spent less than a hundred, and the rest is in the safe. It’s yours.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “No, really. What would I do with all of that money? When I think that my father is the chief steward of Baron Drake’s estate and is only paid four hundred and fifty a year, that kind of money seems unreal to me.”

  “Piracy pays well,” Drake said. “Until they hang you.”

  “Malthorne attacked my home, too,” she said. “The Tolverns have been treated well by the Drakes for five generations, and you can bet my father wants Malthorne punished and his old master back on the estate.”

  Drake picked up the key and rubbed it thoughtfully. “Thank you, Jess.”

  She blushed at the use of her given name, but Drake knew she enjoyed the familiarity, the friendship beyond commanding officer and subordinate. This was friendship she was offering him, not mere loyalty. He’d find a way to pay her back somehow.

  “That’s half of it,” he said. “What about the other four thousand?”

  “Ask Vargus. The other sister, I mean. Offer Catarina eight instead of twelve. It’s what her sister is getting.”

  “For a weaker ship. Orient Tiger is worth more than Outlaw and deserves more. And Catarina has more crew to pay. Plus, the Vargus clan doesn’t seem to always get along, if you haven’t noticed. What makes you think she’d agree to it?”

  “Because you’ve worked together already. Catarina knows you and trusts you in a way Isabel doesn’t.”

  “All the more reason not to cheat her. Can you imagine me talking her into accepting eight thousand, then cheating her out of the bonus on the other side, as well?”

  “James,” she said, using his given name this time. “Let’s be frank with each other.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked warily.

  “I know—about you and Catarina, I mean. Please, you don’t need to deny it. I know, just trust me, I know. You were lovers, and you parted on good terms. You have every reason to expect she would take a lower cut in return for being reunited with you.”

  Drake licked his lips. A twinge of guilt worked at his gut. Did the rest of the crew know, too? Did they think him a hypocrite for all the times he’d warned about fraternization or frowned at Capp and Carvalho for being lovers, even as he let himself get involved with Catarina Vargus?

  “I feel like I should apologize,” he said.

  “We don’t have time for that, Captain. Aguilar is expecting an answer. If you don’t have one, we need to warn the gunnery there will be a fight.”

  Her words weren’t condemning, but there was no hiding the frown in her voice, with more than a hint of disapproval. Of course, Tolvern would never let herself be put in such a compromising position.

  “We don’t even know if Isabel will be able to reach her sister. And if she does, then Catarina might decline the offer anyway. If she’d wanted to stay with me, she could have followed us into Hroom space. Maybe she’ll say no this time, too.”

  “In that case, problem solved. You give her share to Aguilar, and I keep my four thousand pounds.”

  “Very well. We’ll hire this villain and his crew of pirates. Offer him eight thousand, plus the so-called bonus on the other end.”

  Tolvern touched her ear. “Jane, open a channel to Pussycat.” She glanced back at Drake with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going to get really tired of saying ‘pussycat’ before we’re done. Is this Aguilar? This is Commander Jess Tolvern, of Starship Blackbeard. Captain Drake would like to hire your services, subject to the following non-negotiable conditions.”

  #

  Drake was not surprised that Isabel Vargus made contact with her sister in short order once money was on the line. Catarina and the crew of Orient Tiger were on their way to Hades Gulch. Catarina had apparently got wind of the star leviathan attack, and, like her sister, had decided to pick over the carcass of the salvage operation. Drake agreed to take his fleet and rendezvous with Orient Tiger there.

  It took eight days of travel to reach the system, and another two to reach the small, cold planetoid and its moon where Orient Tiger was hard at work scooping up the leviathan’s leftovers. Drake was wary of the deep-space monster, but they scanned carefully and didn’t spot it. It must have wandered off.

  Isabel’s ship, Outlaw, pulled ahead of the others as they slowed for the rendezvous, and arrived first, flashing past Orient Tiger in a way that seemed to irritate the younger sister. Catarina showed her guns and torpedo bays, and for a moment, it looked like the Vargus sisters would mix it up. Drake sent urgent messages, but they ignored him. It was only when he retracted his own shields to expose his main cannons that they stopped feinting and threatening each other.

  Drake was in the captain’s chair when he got Catarina on the viewscreen. He’d been irritated by the bickering between the two sisters, but that vanished when he saw her smiling back at him. She was as beautiful as ever, and played with the ruby pendant resting on the swell of her breasts.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “That business with my sister? You know, sibling love. She is the older one, always wants to lord it over me. Rather a shame that I have the bigger ship, isn’t it?”

  There was something else in their history, he thought, hearing Catarina speak. She sounded refined, like a lady of Albion, whereas Isabel spoke with a rougher, flatter accent. Not lower class, like Capp or some of the others in Drake’s crew, but it wasn’t the sort of accent one developed in finishing school, either. He wondered if their father hadn’t favored his younger daughter, sent her to Albion to make something respectable out of her, but hadn’t given Isabel the same opportunity. Then there was the injury and artificial eye that marred the older sister’s appearance. What was the story of that?

  “So,” Catarina said, “I got your message. Can you talk openly, or do you need a private channel?”

  Drake glanced at the rest of the crew on board. Capp and Tolvern were off shift, and Manx was in the science facility with Brockett, which left Smythe at the tech console and Nyb Pim in the pilot’s chair. Smythe was a tech geek and semi-oblivious when it came to human interaction, and Nyb Pim was a Hroom.

  “I can talk here. What is it?”

  “Money,” Catarina said. “Do you have it?”

  “I have the eight I promised you.”

  “Right,” she said. “I’m not too happy about that. My ship completely outclasses my sister’s—you saw how easily I flanked her just now.”

  “I was ignoring all of the posturing, to be honest.


  “And I’m twice as reliable and steady in battle. But that is not what I am talking about. I know what you took from the tyrillium haul. Even figuring you’ve held onto it since we last met, that’s going to leave you short.”

  Drake thought about bluffing her, too, and claiming that the Hroom had paid him off for the sugar antidote. Instead, he shrugged.

  Catarina peered back through the viewscreen. “You must have a very different relationship with your parents than I had with mine, if you’re willing to beggar yourself and risk the wrath of Isabel and the rest to save them.”

  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

  “For eight thousand, no. I can get an easy two thousand on this salvage job before the competition shows up, and nobody will be shooting at me.”

  “Catarina, listen to me. It is York Tower. Do you know what is in the vaults?”

  “It’s not worth my life.”

  “Who said anything about your life?”

  “James, are you trying to tell me that we’ll skate past Albion’s forts unscathed? Or will some of us die, and the rest of us be well mauled by the time we come out the other side?”

  “Not unscathed,” he admitted. “But the fleet is out fighting the Hroom—”

  “Not Dreadnought. She’s still in orbit, finishing repairs.”

  “Not anymore. From what Rutherford said—”

  “Rutherford, hah! He’s a bigger scoundrel than Paredes and Dunkley put together.” Catarina had apparently not forgiven Rutherford for fighting her during the battle with the Apex hunting party. “You know what I want,” she added. “Give me that, and I’ll gladly come along.”

  Drake glanced at Nyb Pim and Smythe. The former was running calculations, and the latter was on the com, speaking with engineering about a debris field they’d have to navigate as they left the orbit of the planetoid and its moon.

  “Well, James? Surely, you’ve thought about what I was telling you last time.”

  Yes, he had. They’d made love on her ship, then she’d showed him scans of the planet she’d discovered in the Omega Cluster.

  The planet is beautiful, James. Fertile and untouched. I didn’t want to leave. Next time I pass through, I won’t. Neither will anyone else who comes with me.

  “I can’t, Catarina,” he said. “It’s not just my parents, it’s Lord Malthorne.”

  “The devil take him, why do you care?”

  “Because I do. Malthorne has started a new war that may see Albion destroyed.”

  “So you want to remove him to end the war, or what?”

  “I don’t know. I need to see what Rutherford does, first.”

  “Well, then. I guess I’ll wish you all the best and hope you come out the other side alive. Oh, and be careful around my sister. She’s a predator.” Catarina smiled. “Where do you think I learned my moves?”

  “Catarina, please.”

  “No!” Her eyes flashed. “What I’m offering, nobody else can give you. That’s more than enough. And if you don’t want it, if you won’t take it, then you know what I need instead. Money, and plenty of it. Until then, you get nothing from me.”

  He looked at her sadly, wishing he could give her what she wanted. Could promise it, anyway. He shouldn’t have hired Aguilar. Without the money he’d committed to the captain and crew of Pussycat, he could have afforded the more powerful Orient Tiger. Tolvern had convinced him that he could have both. It was a bit of foolish sentiment from the commander, thinking that Catarina had any real feelings for Drake.

  Catarina sighed. “But I suppose information is free. There’s something you should know. Are you planning to go back via Fantalus, then through the Gryphon Shoals?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Don’t. There’s a big navy fleet running between those two systems. I didn’t see Rutherford’s ship, but there were a fair number of other cruisers and destroyers and the like. You don’t want to tangle with them.”

  “Very good, thank you.” The news worried him. The other routes were circuitous and would add at least a week to his journey, but he couldn’t risk a fight with the navy, and he couldn’t risk being detected approaching Albion.

  “You have time. Don’t rush your approach.”

  “I don’t know if I do. I have no idea what Malthorne is planning to do with my parents.”

  “I do,” Catarina said enigmatically. She smiled, and much of her charm returned. “I picked up some news from the Albion press. Your parents have been declared traitors, and they are being tried by the Crown.”

  “That is ridiculous.”

  “It may be ridiculous,” she said, “but surely it’s time consuming to try a baron and his wife for treason. Am I right?”

  “Yes. Maybe so. Could take weeks, even months.” Maybe he did have time, after all. “Thank you, this is helpful.”

  “So, which route will you take, now that Fantalus and the Shoals are closed off?”

  “I don’t know. And I probably shouldn’t say it in front of you and your crew if you’re not coming along. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  “No, I am serious about that. I’m guessing you’ll cross the Gulch, then jump to the Jericho system. That’s the only way forward unless you want to either risk that navy fleet or backtrack to the frontier.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. There are other ways.”

  “Don’t be coy, James, I’m trying to help you. The thing is, we just came from Jericho. I stumbled into a Hroom fleet in the system. If they had wanted my hide, I’d be dead now, but they had other business to attend to. They seemed to be headed the same direction you are.”

  Drake’s thoughts turned to what General Mose Dryz had told him. The Hroom death fleet. Of course, it couldn’t approach Albion directly, either, but would be plotting a similarly circuitous route.

  “You should be all right, if you can avoid them,” Catarina said. “There were several sloops, but the Hroom weren’t powerful enough to defeat the Albion fleet I saw. Or mess with Dreadnought, for that matter.”

  That’s because they don’t intend to defeat the fleet. They intend to destroy Albion.

  “You’d better stay out of their way, though,” Catarina added. “If you and my sister fly in parallel, running your long-range scanners—”

  “Isabel doesn’t have long-range scanners,” Drake interrupted. Blast, some of his previous decisions were coming back to haunt him. “The arrays were knocked out in a fight, and it’s one of the main reasons she was on Leopold. Looking for work to earn the money for new arrays before she sets off alone again.”

  “Isn’t that just like Isabel, operating on a shoestring? What about the other ships? How about that ugly frigate, the one that looks like a floating tank?”

  “Pussycat? Her instruments are rubbish,” Drake said. “She is a brawler, not a chaser. Good for close combat, but if she’s out in the void, unescorted, not so tough. That’s why Aguilar was so keen to join me. He’s in no position for solo operations, either.”

  Tolvern walked onto the bridge. She glanced at the viewscreen, sighed audibly at the sight of Catarina Vargus, and made her way to her seat, shaking her head. Drake thought it was time to wrap up this conversation.

  “Thank you for the information. I’ll keep my scanners going, and with any luck, we’ll spot them before they spot us.”

  “I’m warning you, James. If you run into the sloops, they’ll give you a good thrashing. Stay clear.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  Catarina grunted. “Fine, I’ll see you to the last jump point, but no farther.”

  Drake blinked. “You will?”

  “Two thousand pounds.”

  “Two thousand for an escort? Isn’t that rather steep for support duties? We’re already plenty strong without you.”

  “Strong, but with a single eye. I can’t match Blackbeard’s firepower, but my instruments are more than a match. Two thousand, and another two if we come into combat. And only until the last jump point, the
n you’re on your own.”

  “Piracy,” Tolvern said in a loud voice.

  Drake considered the offer. Catarina was right; Drake couldn’t afford to mix it up with the Hroom. It wouldn’t do him any good to get to Albion if he’d already taken significant damage. And the transit time would give him opportunities to change Catarina’s mind.

  He nodded. “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter Seven

  Within the first half hour after recovering from the jump into the Gryphon Shoals, Rutherford had received two urgent, conflicting messages. He went to the war room to consider them in privacy. The first was from the lord admiral, ordering him to collect his task force and cross the Shoals to the far side of the system, where he would rendezvous with a second force, led by Malthorne on Dreadnought herself and prepare to jump into San Pablo.

  That would form a massive fleet encompassing nearly half the capital ships in the Royal Navy. Poised at San Pablo, overlooking the smoking ruins of Rutherford’s atomic bombardment, the lord admiral could only mean to make a deep thrust into the Hroom Empire, leaving behind a trail of wrecked planets. Why? Albion was still struggling to consolidate its gains from the last war, so there was no strategic value to gobbling up more hard-to-defend systems. It was as if Malthorne intended to deliver a death blow to the empire.

  There was nothing in the message about Rutherford’s meeting with Drake. Malthorne must have been steaming that Rutherford had defied him, had fought next to Blackbeard, and then let Drake and his treasonous crew go. But Rutherford had sent back so much intelligence about Apex and the new alien race’s attack on the Hroom that he knew all would be forgiven if he quietly submitted to his role in the fleet. There was still a war to win, after all. With Drake gone, Rutherford was the best captain Malthorne had left.

  The second message was from Drake. Rutherford had given his old friend information on how to send him a subspace if he had important news, and now Drake seemed to have it. It took a good deal of energy to send messages via subspace, and this one was especially long.

  There is a Hroom fleet proceeding toward Albion. It contains at least six sloops and intends to attack the home planet itself. You must be prepared.

 

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