She also had three CNGs: Cartman, Patel and Sagairt. Two deck officers: Tamboli and Waldroup—but those two were managing three flight decks.
Similarly to the deck officers, they currently only had four executive officers on the call. Lady Tramp was sufficiently important for Kira to include her Captain, but Woodcock was the freighter’s only representative on the call.
Konrad was acting as XO for both Fortitude and Deception—which meant Fortitude right now. Similarly, Milani was the ground commander for all six ships.
There were a lot of empty spots in the org chart right now, but until they could recruit new hands to fill holes, they might have to muddle along.
“Well, folks, we’ve done the first two parts,” Kira told them all. “We have Fortitude. We have the Prime Minister of the Crest and five key Cabinet Ministers in her brig. That means, among other things, we are now the most wanted people in the Crest Sector.”
That got her a collection of awkward chuckles.
“So, first steps,” Kira continued. “Fortitude needs to be a fully functional carrier. I feel bad about treating my old plane like this, but Waldroup…bulldoze the deck.”
“It won’t be pretty,” the deck officer reminded her. “Not until I have time to really dig it and clean up the debris and the hole.”
“It only needed to be pretty to fool the Cresters,” Kira said. “Now I want it functional. If we pull fighters over from Raccoon and Deception, can we fuel and arm them?”
“Sort of,” Waldroup admitted. “Including the light load on the twelve Hussars we acquired, we still have forty-eight torpedoes aboard. I can put them on any of our fighters, but I don’t have a lot of them to go around.
“As for fuel, well…we need to draw from Fortitude’s tanks to do that.”
“Which brings us to the biggest problem,” Konrad continued, picking up the hint Waldroup had laid down. “Fortitude was fueled for trials, not operations. Her tanks were only at twenty-five percent when she started the trials.
“We are well below anything I would accept as a reserve,” the engineer and XO said grimly. “We have enough fuel to get to Guadaloop, but we will have limited ability to nova once we get there.
“Sublight maneuvering, obviously, is an entirely different situation, but I don’t think we can avoid an NRC carrier group sublight.”
“We can’t,” Kira agreed. “But we’re not going to be able to refuel in Guadaloop, either. Fortitude is going to draw every eye in the system when she arrives, and Final Usury is not going to play nice, even if the CO is a Royalist.”
In theory, Kira had code words to convince Royalist officers to stand down. She wasn’t going to trust them as far as she could throw the carrier, but she had them. She just trusted them even less in a system where everyone else would be able to see what was going on!
“So, we do what we have to do,” Konrad said grimly. “Everyone’s least-favorite nightmare. How’re your hoses, people?”
Kira watched the ripple of wincing pass through the starship officers. It was possible to transfer fuel between two vessels in deep space, even if neither was a specialized tanker. It was risky and required precision flying, but it was possible.
“Konrad has a point,” she told them. “We’ll equalize fuel tanks across the fleet as best as possible, but everyone needs enough fuel to play nova footsie with a carrier group for weeks.”
“We’ll make it happen,” Mwangi said grimly. “I do not want to see Raccoon on the receiving end of a bomber strike. This is a real damn Navy, not the backwater compromises of the Syntactic Cluster.”
“We need to split our fighter force,” Kira agreed. “Sagairt will stay as CNG aboard Fortitude for now, but I want at least a few more squadrons. We’ll move torpedoes over from Lady Tramp to stockpile our magazines, but I want Raccoon-Charlie and Deception-Charlie aboard Fortitude before we nova again.”
That would give Helmet eighteen heavy fighters and six interceptors while firmly bringing both of her other ships under their listed strength for both pilots and fighters.
“We were considering which fighters to dump off Raccoon, so that works,” Mwangi admitted. “Even without trying to launch them, we just don’t the space to have extra birds on the deck.”
“We’re going to have a hell of a rationalization and reorg when we get home,” Kira told them. “A lot of promotions, a lot of new recruits. New fighters even if we decide to give Raccoon back to the RRF.
“But for now, Memorial Force is a hodgepodge of a compromise. If I had anyone else at my back, I’d be worried at the mess.” She grinned. “But I have Memorial Force, and we fucked up Cobra Squadron.
“At this point, all we have to do is dance. I trust our people to do that for us. So, we clear Fortitude’s deck and load her up. We get fuel balanced across the squadron.
“And then we head for Guadaloop to deliver our ransom demand.”
“Sir.” Milani remained in the conference room as the meeting broke up, waiting for Kira to step over to them.
They’d switched into their usual lighter armor now, abandoning the bulky-but-effective heavy boarding armor they’d worn for the assault. The dragon flitted across the entirety of this suit instead of just the holographic projection around the shoulders they’d had on the boarding armor.
It was probably Kira’s imagination that the dragon seemed excited and relieved to have that freedom.
“What is it, Milani?” she asked.
“Interesting call up from the brig during the meeting,” they told her. “Jeong is awake and she’s asking to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
“She realizes this isn’t going to go away if she makes angry faces, right?” Kira said drily.
“From what Bertoli says, she seems to have made a pretty accurate assessment of the situation,” Milani noted. “She offered him quite a bit of money to get her free and to a nova shuttle or fighter, but took his refusal calmly enough.
“That was when she asked to talk to whoever was in charge.”
“I’m not sure that the Equilibrium politician fully understanding the situation is necessarily to our advantage,” Kira murmured. “But I don’t think it hurts for me to talk to her.”
“Not my call,” Milani replied. “I just shot her in the face with a stunner.”
There was a disturbing level of satisfaction in the mercenary’s voice.
“Milani,” Kira said carefully. “Is there something I should know?”
“Nah, I just hate politicians,” the mercenary commando told her. “So, any day I get to stun one is a damn good day.”
44
It was always uncomfortable to walk into areas where headware couldn’t find a signal. The entire brig aboard Fortitude—and most other warships—was sealed inside a Faraday cage, limiting the access of the hardware in the prisoners’ heads to what their captors specifically allowed.
That also meant that their guards suffered the same restrictions, though they would cycle in and out and had communications with the rest of the ship.
It wasn’t like the prison was uncomfortable. The guard post at the entrance had the same automatically adjusting seats as everywhere else in the ship, and the cells were equipped with much the same amenities as the standard crew quarters.
Even the interrogation room Kira entered had the automatic seats and an artificial-stupid mobile coffee machine that handed her a cup of steaming black coffee. It wasn’t Redward Royal Reserve, but it smelled surprisingly decent for brig coffee.
She had the machine lay out a second cup just before Bertoli escorted their prisoner in, carefully sitting the petite Prime Minister on the chair and manacling her feet in place.
“Is this really necessary?” Maral Jeong asked, her tone calm. “I am eighty-five years old, and I have neither armor nor soldier boosts. I am no threat to your commander, soldier.”
Bertoli double-checked the manacles, sardonically saluted Kira and then stepped out, leaving the two women alone.
“
I’m not going to tell you my name,” Kira said calmly. “I’m sure you’ll work it out eventually, but I see no reason to make it easy on you.
“But you asked to see the person in charge, and I’m curious enough to be here.” She smiled. “So, tell me, Em Jeong, what do you expect to get from me?”
The Prime Minister’s vividly green eyes locked on to Kira’s gaze and held it for a few seconds.
“You’re mercenaries, not pirates,” Jeong noted. “Someone is paying you to do this. I’m impressed with what you’ve managed to pull off. I wouldn’t have thought this was even possible.”
Kira leaned back in her chair and drank more of her coffee. She had no intention of giving Jeong anything in this conversation.
“Whoever is paying you, you have to realize that the Crest can outbid them,” the older woman finally said. “You’ve achieved the impossible already, but taking this carrier is a far step from keeping her. You should have come to us when someone tried to hire you. We would have offered you ten times as much to work for us.”
“Don’t worry, Em Jeong,” Kira said with a chuckle. “The Crest is paying us. I was going to ask for a ten-million-crest ransom for you. It sounds like I should be thinking more in the hundred-million range.
“Your advice is appreciated.”
The interrogation room was silent, and Jeong’s friendly demeanor faded.
“You have to know you can’t get away with this,” she said sharply. “My government may pay you off, but we will come for you. Whatever you think you’re getting out of this, it cannot be worth the consequences.
“You will be hunted to the ends of the galaxy. My reach is far longer than your worst nightmares, mercenary. I am prepared to negotiate a peaceful solution to this that serves both our needs, but if you carry this through, you will never sleep again.”
“Would that reach be through the Equilibrium Institute, Em Jeong?” Kira asked softly. “Or the Sanctuary and Prosperity Party? Or the government of the Royal Crest? I am not afraid of… Well, of any of them.”
The room was silent.
“The Equilibrium Institute,” Jeong echoed. “That’s not a name I expected to hear in the mouth of a mercenary. Who do you serve?”
“My contract,” Kira replied. “A mercenary’s contract is their bond, their word, their most important tool of the business. I will not break it. And that means that you, Em Jeong, will be offered up to the highest bidder.
“Given the resources of your government, I imagine that will be the Crest,” she noted. “Unless you think the Institute will find you even more valuable?”
“The Institute is a useful ally. A tool of the business, as you say,” Jeong told her. “You seem to lay more weight on them than I do.”
“Really.” Kira eyed the woman. “That’s fascinating to me, to be honest, but I don’t think we really do have much to discuss.”
“Dammit, woman, I’m trying to find a way out of this for both of us,” Jeong snapped. “You’re not going to kill me or my Ministers. You want money—we can give you money. You want power? The Crest could finance your conquest of a Rim world of your choice. You want purpose?”
Jeong met Kira’s gaze levelly.
“You want purpose,” she echoed, “I can connect you with the Equilibrium Institute. Their mission is great, their task nothing less than peace for all mankind.”
Kira laughed aloud.
“We’re done here, Em Jeong,” she told the other woman. “I have a plan to make money from this. I don’t want a planet—and I already have a purpose in my life.”
She smiled as she rose.
“But tell me, given the chunk of your Cabinet that were supposed to be on this ship, how close were you to removing the King of the Royal Crest?”
The room was silent again, then Jeong sighed and shrugged.
“One of us is a dead woman who doesn’t know it, I suspect,” she noted. “So, what does it matter? We’d barely started planning, but the decision had been made. Six standard months at most before the King and Crown Zharang were removed and the Crest became a republic.”
A republic, Kira suspected, that would have been a thinly veiled dictatorship by the SPP—a faux republic that would have been less fair and representative than the monarchy it overthrew.
“I appreciate your honesty,” Kira told the other woman. “In turn, I will be honest: I don’t think either of us is going to be a dead woman over this.”
She gave the Prime Minister of the Crest a calm, probably not-at-all-reassuring nod and walked out.
45
“Standing by for nova,” Soler reported.
Kira ran through the reporting metrics from Fortitude’s command seat. There were a few clever user-interface tricks and automatic reports in Fortitude’s software that she’d have to incorporate in the other ships of Memorial Force if she had time.
Right now, though, those tricks and reports were telling her the stark story of how understrength Fortitude was. Twenty-four fighters on a ship that should carry a hundred and fifty. Two hundred crew on a ship designed for over fifteen hundred.
But she had the reports from the rest of the mercenary battle group. Everyone was at a solid fifty-five percent fuel now. Fortitude had stocked up to almost two hundred torpedoes, more than enough to reload the heavy fighters repeatedly.
Everyone’s drive cores were cooled down. This was almost the moment of truth—their first nova to somewhere not a security point. They only needed three novas to get them to Guadaloop from there, through two trade-route stops—but those stops were going to be patrolled.
“All ships report at battle stations,” Konrad said. “All guns are charged, all fighters are standing by, all jammers are armed. We are ready.”
Kira nodded, taking one last skim through all of the reports hovering in the air around her and then inhaling carefully.
“Order to all ships: nova on my command.”
She let the silence hang for a second, making sure she had everyone on the line and listening.
“Nova.”
“Contacts, multiple contacts.”
“Break them down,” Kira ordered.
Civilians weren’t going to mess with a carrier group. Any nova warships from the Crest’s client network weren’t particularly more likely to pick that fight—Memorial Force had outgunned most of the clients’ nova-capable fleets before they’d stolen Fortitude.
The risk was Navy of the Royal Crest ships. Even there, smaller deployments could be either intimidated or talked down with Panosyan’s code words.
Maybe.
“Forty-two civilian ships of various sizes,” Soler reported. “Um…two Apollon destroyers. Looks like they’re escorting a diplomatic vessel.”
They were a long way from home, Kira knew. It was almost as far from her homeworld to the Crest Sector as it was to the Syntactic Cluster. But the Crest was a major power in this region of the Rim, so it made sense.
It still made her twitchy.
“I’ve got an NRC cruiser group at sixty-five by ninety-one,” Soler barked as the data resolved. “I make it a Banker’s Acceptance–class battlecruiser with six destroyers. Range is…three million kilometers.”
“Get me an ID on that battlecruiser,” Kira ordered. She had a list of people who would be safe to use her codewords on—and just sending them could risk the whole scheme if they went to the wrong people.
“Working on it. They will have seen us…now,” Soler reported.
“That’s the nature of the game,” Kira replied. “A Banker’s Acceptance has how many fighters?”
Kira was already taking control of the ship’s sublight navigation and directing the whole squadron to start opening the distance. She couldn’t open the distance enough to stop the battlecruiser’s fighters reaching them—that was the whole point of nova fighters.
A squadron of fighters spilled out from each of her flight decks, eighteen fighters assembling into an escort formation around the fleet. If the Cresters came fo
r Fortitude, her people would be ready.
“Single squadron, ten Cavaliers,” Konrad reported.
“ID confirmed,” Soler added. “Battlecruiser is Interest Differential, Captain Ella Abraham, commanding.”
“She’s not on my list,” Kira said after a moment’s review. “Damn.”
“Not a Royalist?” Konrad asked.
“No. Also not an SPP lackey, from what I have,” she told him. “But just straight loyalty to the flag is enough for her to come after us once she works out what’s going on.”
“Do we play for time?” her lover asked.
Kira studied the battlecruiser in the displays—and watched Interest Differential turn toward them and launch her nova fighters.
“Incoming hail,” Soler reported.
“Play it and ready up the Captain Moon simulacrum,” Kira told her. “Let’s see what games we can arrange.”
The image of a tall redheaded woman in the NRC uniform appeared on the screen.
“Hijackers aboard the carrier Fortitude and attendant unknown ships,” Captain Abraham said flatly. “Your crimes are known and you cannot escape. Surrender now and avoid further bloodshed.”
There went pretending to be Captain Moon. Well…there went expecting to succeed at pretending to be Captain Moon, anyway.
Kira smiled.
“Pull up the Moon simulacrum,” she ordered. “Then record for transmission. Ten seconds’ lag gives us space to play with.”
A few seconds passed as the program activated and Kira looked down at the screen showing her outgoing message. Captain Moon—currently in a cell in Fortitude’s brig—looked back up at her and blinked when she did.
“Captain Abraham, this is Captain Gyeong-Ja Moon aboard Fortitude,” she told the Navy of the Royal Crest officer.
“I do not know what lies are being spread around the Crest, but I have been tasked with a special mission to protect the Prime Minister and key members of the Cabinet after a Royalist assassination attempt.
Fortitude (Scattered Stars: Conviction Book 4) Page 26