“We almost had them,” he declared for what seemed like the one-hundredth time. It was clear the list of grievances caused by his action was of little consequence to him, so Tallman decided to skip the tally of damage done.
Tallman stared back at his commander with a neutral expression on his face. The operative word in Yossian’s statement was “almost.” That is the point of a well-laid trap. To almost achieve your objective while laying yourself open for a counter stroke. Tallman did not bother to point that out. He knew it would do no good. The key now was to plan for a future strategy that might work despite the recent failure. In Tallman’s mind, a really good plan would be to say “To hell with it” and set sail for home. He knew they would have some explaining to do once they arrived home, and there was no point in digging a deeper hole here in the Badlands. He also knew there was no chance his commander was heading for home.
Tallman had been the man who had laid his hand on Yossian’s shoulder back in the safe room in the conversation with the Hawkins. Despite his duty to his commander and his nation, he now was having second thoughts about that action. It had been obvious the pirate captain was goading his commander, and Yossian had been on the verge of accommodating him. Yossian would have been shot long before he would have gotten to Hawkins, and Tallman had to stop that particular train of events before disaster struck. Given recent actions, Tallman was not sure it would have been a disaster if he had allowed it to happen, at least from his point of view.
That was the past. He now had to try to convince his commander to leave although he thought that was highly unlikely. “It will be only a matter of time before all the protests and reports get back to Rialta. We will be ordered home as a courtesy to the Goldenes Tor, if for no other reason. We should start planning for that now, sir.”
Yossian looked at him at the mention of going home. He talked as a plan formed in his mind. “I would suspect the turnaround time for those reports to get back to Rialta, a decision made, and the message ordering us home to be about two standard weeks.” Tallman nodded in agreement. Yossian went on. “That gives us two weeks to get Terrant and Delacruz, and kill Hawkins. If we get Hawkins, the Goldenes Tor will be grateful, and every other planet will fall in line behind them so we can leave with our heads held high.”
Tallman had been ready for this. “This quadrant is big, and the pirates could all hide or leave the area while simply waiting us out. If we have no orbiting privileges, it will be tough to get resupplied. We did not get the supplies we had secured at Lorelei, so we are low right now. There will be no intel reports from the Goths. We can’t cover this region with fourteen ships running around blind.”
Yossian nodded. “It will be difficult. We will have to break up into smaller groups. I want the two battlecruisers to hunt alone. The remaining twelve ships will divide into groups of three. We will cycle through the city of Last Chance for resupply. It’s on the edge of the Badlands so not much time will be lost getting supplies, and the people there won’t care about what is happening out here as long as there is money to be made. Each ship will have to overload on supplies so they will have enough for the search period and also for the trip home.” He thought for a moment. “We need to ensure we can support each other in case any group is attacked, so planning the search sectors will be critical.” He paused and then stared at Tallman. “Do not reply to any messages from the Goths or any other entity in this region. We will not explain ourselves.”
Tallman nodded as he kept his opinions to himself. It was clear the course of action was already a done deal in Yossian’s mind, and argument would only harden his position. Once they split their force up, they would be ripe for a strike from the pirates. He would speak to each captain privately to ensure the mutual support would be there if needed. He rose from his seat. “I’ll get the planning started, Commodore.”
Chapter 34
Terrant had set up a rendezvous with Vindictive immediately upon her return to her ship. The two destroyers now drifted side by side while Terrant had taken her shuttle to Vindictive. Shane had greeted her, and the two captains now sat in Delacruz’s day cabin.
Terrant got right to the point. “I assume Captain Hawkins informed you that I know that you know about the ships.” Shane nodded as Terrant continued. “I did not tell him one last pertinent fact. I owe it to you to inform you first.”
Shane nodded and wondered about that one leftover fact. Terrant took a breath and continued in an official tone. “Those seven ships at Mistral are nowhere near combat ready. In fact, they are packed with refugees. Just over fourteen hundred.”
Anger flared in Delacruz. First at Terrant for keeping the secret, and then at himself for missing the obvious. Of course, there would be refugees in those ships. Crewmembers’ families, families of Cottonmouth crewmembers, hunted leaders and their families, families of military people and, probably, anyone who just wanted to get off Rialta and start over. He should have seen this months ago.
Shane closed his eyes. He briefly imagined the conditions for those people on those ships. Warships are not made to be passenger ships. Everything - berthing, mess facilities, supply storage, water tanks - is planned to support a certain number of people. Any number over that burdens the system, especially if it goes on for an extended period of time in an ill repaired ship. Shane frowned and then put it out of his mind. Not productive now, and there were other more pressing issues. He looked at Terrant. “Where do they want to go?”
“Somewhere safe and start over.”
“I don’t know any place safe in the Badlands, but we can try. Do you have a breakdown of men, women, kids and any other pertinent info?”
Terrant pulled out a disk from a large pocket on her pant leg and slid it to him. “You now have everything about them that I got. Names, ages, special circumstances, all of it.”
Delacruz leaned back. He was in planning mode now. “I’ll get our supply ship, Vampire, there in a couple of days to load out people and move them to our squadron house. I’ll see about getting a freighter from another squadron to get the remaining refugees. We need to do big loads to limit the ships going to our house to make sure the location doesn’t get noticed. Two of our freighters should do it. It will be tight, but the refugees are probably used to it. Besides, I don’t want your warships out and about. In fact, we need to look at what it will take to bring at least some of them up to combat ready.” Terrant reached in her pocket again and produced another disc. “The latest and greatest material report for each ship.” She slid it across the table.
Shane regarded her. “Why so cooperative?”
Terrant looked back at him with no expression. “Time to bring this all to a conclusion. I’ve recently learned some things about myself and my ship.” She told him of her conversations in Predator and conversations with her crew upon her return to Cottonmouth. “The simple fact is many of the things I wanted do not seem to be what anyone else wants now. I still want our people and all those ships to have the best possible chance at success. Not sure that can be achieved with me in command.” She looked down and then refocused on Delacruz. “I know I helped lose the war at home. I thought I learned from that and was now a half decent commander. I think I may have been kidding myself in that regard. I haven’t made a right decision since I’ve been in the Badlands. Time to reconsider my options. The nice thing about coming clean is these become your problems now.” She gave him a slight smile. “I’m sorry I waited so long, Shane. I’m sorry about many things.”
Delacruz nodded. “Apology accepted. We have lots going on here. I need you. They think of you as their leader. You will have to remain in that billet. They won’t respond to anyone else as they will to you. You are the one who got everyone this far. We all still need you.”
Terrant looked doubtful. She finally nodded. “Anything I can do.”
Delacruz nodded in return. “Good. I’ll send a P4 to Hawkins with a sitrep attached. I’ll info you on it. I’ll get Vampire moving this way and see wha
t squadron freighters are nearby. If we have to, we can get a couple of friendly freighters in need of work. We’ll get everyone moved to our house on Kiraloch on the edge of the Edinburgh Systems. Should be safe there for the near future as we hunt up a more permanent solution. Maybe on one of the Agra planets. Rafe told me Agra 5 is a very real possibility. I plan to talk to them.” He stood up. “If Agra 5 doesn’t work out, we’ll come up with a plan for scouting for a more permanent home for everyone.” Terrant nodded and rose from her seat. She returned to her ship as Shane sent his P4 to Hawkins.
Vindictive and Cottonmouth moved to Mistral. Seven Marbellan ships clustered around the two newcomers. Delacruz sat in his command chair and talked to all the ships. He told them of Vampire coming and the upcoming loadout to join his squadron’s house on Kiraloch. The refugees would move, but the ships would maintain their crews. Consequently, the majority of the transfers would be women and children.
Vampire arrived ten hours after the two warships and the transfer began with Vampire moving supplies to the seven ships and refugees filling in the resulting open space on Vampire. Shane was in his day cabin when the reply came from Hawkins to his P4.
“If you want to move these people to your house, I’ll support in any way I can. Dragon is en route to Mistral now. She has some supplies, but there is plenty of room for people. We’ll transfer some of the supplies to the warships to free up more room. We will take care of the refugees and sort out the ramifications afterward. I agree with you that limiting the number of ships to your house has to be a priority. If we attract attention there, that would be bad. I assume you will put a couple of ships on overwatch there. Those Mistral ships will have to stay in place until we can get a plan together. I got your material report on those ships and they are in serious need of almost everything. I forwarded it to O’Hare and Riki Takahashi. If anyone can get parts for them without attracting attention, it is Riki. I know we are looking at major yard work too.
“One thing I am concerned about is security. The Marbellan warships have to stay at Mistral with minimum manning while the refugees are moving to your house. First time these people have been split up in a while. There can be no comm between the two groups. Nobody is allowed to change their minds about being apart.
“Not a priority now but once the Commonwealth squadron leaves, we can look at getting the Marbellan ships up to combat worthiness. We will need to sort out allegiances first before we pay money to rehab those ships. This is the first time the crews in those ships will be hearing about Pirate Flotilla One. In their minds, they will owe us nothing. We are not going to pay for an overhaul and then have the ship leave. Anyone wants to leave, fine. They can go when the time is safe for that. Once we start paying for repairs and putting ordnance and supplies in those ships, they are staying. Work with Terrant and see what people want. Maybe we can keep some ships, and those who want to leave can take the rest of the ships. Might require some switching around of crewmembers. Again, not a priority at the moment so let’s get the refugees in place and keep everything else under wraps.”
Delacruz was onboard with his reasoning. Dragon soon arrived at Mistral and packed in the remaining refugees and nonessential crewmembers for the two-day flight to Kiraloch. The two freighters moved to Kiraloch by different routes. Dragon rendezvoused along the way with Predator and Nemesis to pick up Hawkins and O’Hare. Vindictive and Cottonmouth travelled with Vampire. Six hours short of their destination, Delacruz and Terrant transferred to Vampire from their respective ships. Only the two freighters would be in orbit around Kiraloch. The two support ships arrived at Kiraloch twenty minutes apart and began the unloading process. The four pirate ships waiting for the return of their captains set up a perimeter around Kiraloch three hours away.
Kiraloch was a planet with a small temperate zone along its equator. The remaining surface was too hot or too cold. The temperate zone was small but nice. There was water and forests. No animal or human occupants. Nobody lived on the planet as it was claimed by three different planetary governments, and the case was being decided through arbitration. Years from now, someone would get it, but the pirates were never concerned with “years from now.” Staying alive for tomorrow was enough of a challenge.
The house for Charlie Squadron was in a large, one hundred kilometers bowl. Their camp was small as there were less than two hundred people remaining after the attack at Ulatar. Most of these people joined Charlie squadron after Ulatar. The squadron people welcomed the newcomers. On the ridge above the encampment, communications stations from Dragon formed an impromptu command post as logistics personnel orchestrated the offload of people, supplies, and support equipment. Just beside the command post, Hawkins, O’Hare, and Terrant stood and watched the offload. Delacruz was down in the camp visiting all the Charlie Squadron people.
O’Hare watched the offload activity with her arms folded and deep in thought. Hawkins walked over and stood quietly beside her. She was silent for a long moment and then spoke. “Terrant overestimated her assets, and we overestimated the threat she posed to us.” Hawkins nodded and she went on. “I read the material report on her ships. Few working systems. Most of the portable equipment was sold off. Their crews are just thrown together and the captains probably can’t read a tac screen. All are loaded down with refugees. One of our corvettes could have taken them all out.” Hawkins nodded again. O’Hare looked at Terrant staring down at the encampment a short distance away. “She probably believed in her plan at the start of all this, but after seeing what showed up, she had to know there was no way to bring them up to combat worthiness without our help.” O’Hare shook her head. “We’ve been worried about nothing.”
Hawkins nodded for a third time. She looked at him. “You just going to nod your way through this whole conversation?” Hawkins smiled and nodded. He finally spoke. “She and I talked after the Lorelei shootout when she found out that we knew about the ships at Mistral. I told her that the best option for all of them was to remain with us. Despite all the drama, I let her know that staying was still available if they wanted it. She didn’t know what to do.”
O’Hare now nodded in agreement and looked at Terrant. “She is the last of the Marbella Space Navy, and she is just now figuring that out. Until she comes to terms with that fact, she can’t form a plan to move forward.” O’Hare looked away from Terrant and back at the crude settlement below. “Hell, it wouldn’t even be any fun to kill her now.” She looked sharply at Hawkins. “Don’t you dare tell her I said that.”
“Mum’s the word.”
“Damn well better be.”
Hawkins watched Terrant for a long minute and then took several steps over to her. “I sent a long comm to Shane a while ago with some of my thoughts on how to proceed.”
Terrant talked without looking at him. “He forwarded it to me. We will put together a list of all the ships in order of material condition. Maybe put the best ships in the yards. Maybe some of the people will want to go back to Rialta. They could take the best remaining ship or two. Sell the rest for seed money. My crew has been telling stories of the good pirate life, so I expect we will have no problem filling out crews for the new ships, especially since the manning level will be reduced. They will need training, of course. No clue where the captains will come from. Might need to come to you to fill some key billets but not sure how that would be perceived by my people.”
“How do you want to organize your ships once they are repaired?”
There was a long moment of silence and then she answered softly. “I don’t know.”
Rafe’s first reaction was to assume she did know but didn’t want to share. The tone of her reply made him reconsider that conclusion. Hawkins slowly turned his head to look at Terrant. “I did not see that coming.”
She took a deep breath. “Up until a few days ago, that would not have been the answer. Now I truly do not know.” She paused and continued to watch the camp. “Remember our conversation about prostitution and relationships a
board ship?” She went on without waiting for an answer. “When I returned to my ship after our Lorelei adventure, I got the XO into my day cabin. I had him tell me about those particular topics.” Terrant wearily shook her head. “Apparently, the only woman aboard Cottonmouth not having sex with at least one other crewmember is me. And half of them are selling it.” She paused again. Raferty knew this was hard for her. Many illusions were crashing down at the same time. “I exaggerate. I suspect only a quarter of the women are selling it and eight or ten of the women are married to men in the other ships so may not have been doing anything at all. But, then again, maybe that did not stop them either. I have been totally wrong up until now so am probably wrong about that.” She now turned her head and looked at Hawkins. “The XO has been in a long affair with one of the enlisted ops women. Apparently, he is the clearing house for all that stuff. He settled disputes, ensured the prostitution did not create personal problems, and kept me in the dark. Of course, after that conversation, I noticed all the signs around the ship. They were obvious once I started looking. I was commanding a space travelling bordello for a couple of years and didn’t have a clue.” She looked at the ground at her feet.
Raferty spoke softly. “Not your fault. Your only problem is you’re still in the Marbellan Navy and nobody else is. Your Navy has been gone for years, and you are the last member.” He leaned close to her. “The reason your crew kept you in the dark is they wanted you to stay as CO. Remember, they are not in any navy. They could have jumped ship or gotten rid of you. They stayed and wanted you to lead them. They bought into your vision. That’s worth something.”
Terrant still looked down. “Maybe.” She changed topics. “I know I helped lose our civil war. Shane may have told you the story. I was a politician, a member of a group of politicians who wanted to succeed from the Commonwealth. After we did that, many of us politicians moved to the military.” She took another breath. “We were good at politics and manipulation so I guess we all thought that translated into military skill, and we could learn the rest by osmosis. We believed it was a simple trick to be mastered after a couple of quick sessions. We were so stupid. I learn my job while my forces lost ships and people. I got better as the fighting went on, but we had actually lost the war in the first year. We just didn’t know it at the time. After the end and chaos took over, a bunch of us hid out on the planet. Several months later, I gathered a group of sailors, and we snuck aboard Cottonmouth while she was tied up in a repair yard. We stole her and ran away. We were looking for a better life, and I thought I could lead the way. I thought I was actually a decent commander by then, but since I’ve been here in the Badlands, I’ve been wrong on every major decision. Hell, I’m trying to stake out a place in the universe for us, and I don’t even know what is happening in my own ship. I’m not sure I can make good decisions anymore.” Her voice trailed off as she continued to study the dirt.
The Queen's Hammer: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 5 Page 23