Duchess of Terra (Duchy of Terra Book 2)

by Glynn Stewart

  “Well, that’s the Rubicon, isn’t it?” James suggested.

  “We can always turn around, my dear Colonel,” Pat replied. “Shall we see where our Duchess is sending us?”

  James waited for Pat to open the envelope and pull out the paper before saying, “Tortuga.”

  “Well, fuck.”

  Pat kept reading.

  “I see they’ve moved,” he noted. “Different star system than before. Any idea where she got the coordinates?”

  “I know she’s been in communication with Tallas,” James admitted. “That’s why prize money has continued to trickle into all of our accounts as he liquidates and launders.”

  “And now we’re collecting everything that’s left, huh?”

  “Price of doing business, it seems. If we want capital ships without selling our only economic advantage…” James shrugged. “We spend the money we stole.”

  Pat shook his head.

  “You know the Imperium is going to work out where the money came from,” he pointed out. “Especially if we’re not carefully laundering the rest of it.”

  “I believe the Duchess intends for them to. It’s something of a giant ‘fuck you’ to our new overlords’ attempt to screw us.”

  “Tortuga,” Pat repeated, studying the paper. “With us being a Ducal Militia ship now, do you think they’ll let us in?”

  “No idea,” James replied. “Think you can force your way in?”

  “No,” Tornado’s Captain said flatly. “They have a dozen and more cruisers of Tornado’s weight, defenses and armor. I wouldn’t go after Tortuga with less than a battle fleet—and a fleet with compressed-matter armor and active missile defenses, at that.”

  “Well, let’s hope our old friends are feeling accommodating. How long?”

  “I’ll run it by Amandine, but from what I remember of the charts in the direction they’ve moved to, I call it ten days each way.”

  “A nice quiet second honeymoon,” James said with a grin. “With some entertainment in the middle!”

  “Entertainment,” Pat echoed. “You’re expecting to shoot people on Tortuga again, I take it?”

  “For this much money? Oh, hell, yes.”

  #

  Chapter 32

  When they gathered in the penthouse conference room again the following morning, Annette found herself wishing she knew more about Indiri body language. A!Tol were easy—they wore their emotions on their skin—but every other race in the galaxy required study, and she hadn’t managed to make the time to study Indiri.

  The degree to which all eight of the Indiri representatives were sharing the same oddly relaxed posture, their tongues flickering lazily in and out, was nerve-wracking when you didn’t know what that state meant.

  She and her Councilors took their seats at the head of the table.

  “We have completed our discussions,” she told them. “We would like to proceed on the basis we discussed. Councilor Zhao”—she nodded toward him—“will have your deposit ready by tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” Speaker Pozan told her, his tongue flickering faster as he spoke. “Unfortunately, Duchess Bond, the situation has changed since yesterday and the offer we discussed is no longer on the table.”

  She stared at him. That was not the response she had been expecting. Had killing Karaz Forel caused them that much trouble?

  “Before we continue, I feel it is our obligation to clear the murk from the waters,” Pozan said. “There was, as I’m certain you had concluded yourself, an active intention on the part of the Imperium to force you to sell the production technology for compressed-matter armor to either ourselves or the Navy itself.

  “To aid those currents, we were…encouraged to overcharge you for the ships,” he admitted. “I doubt you and your staff did not have access to enough information to judge that.”

  “We had no choice,” Annette replied. “We face an indelible obligation. If you refuse to sell to us, we must buy elsewhere. Our funds will stretch as far as they must.

  “Why are you even admitting this to us?” she asked.

  “Because we now know that Karaz Forel is dead,” Pozan told her. “And Karaz Forel was a blot not merely on the honor of his House but of all the Deep Houses. House Forel owes you a debt of honor. The rest of us merely owe you a debt.

  “Since the first offer we made you was…unworthy of the debt we owe you, we are retracting it. Shaza Forel has a different offer to extend.”

  Confused, Annette turned her attention to the Indiri who reminded her so much of the being that had almost killed her.

  “To, as Speaker Pozan has said, clear the murk from the waters, I should clarify House Forel’s role in this syndicate,” Forel began. “The other Deep Houses present here are either specialized shipbuilders or industrial cartels with ship-building arms. They own refit and construction yards, and build ships for the Navy and the Duchies.

  “House Forel is not a shipbuilder. House Forel is primarily a financial-services entity. We provide loans and mortgages, funding for all sorts of operations. Approximately forty-five percent of our loans and mortgages are for starship construction.

  “Our role in this syndicate was to underwrite the costs of acquiring and refitting the ships until the Duchy of Terra could make their payments,” Forel finished.

  “While this level of transparency is useful, I’m still confused,” Annette confessed. She was starting to feel like she was being led around by the nose.

  “The currents will become clear,” the Indiri promised. “May I use the projector?

  Annette gestured her to it and Forel hooked her communicator in. The familiar image of the battleship from the previous day appeared.

  “Yesterday, we discussed selling you twelve Empress A!Ana class battleships,” she noted. “Named for a long-dead Empress most famous for being one of only eight leaders ever in the galaxy to authorize deployment of a starkiller.

  “It is a famous name and they were powerful units when they were designed and built—just over one hundred and twenty-seven long-cycles ago.”

  Annette winced. She’d known the Empress A!Ana design was old. She hadn’t realized it was almost seventy years old.

  “This,” Shaza Forel continued, tapping a new command and sliding the Empress A!Ana schematic to one side, “is a Majesty-class super-battleship.”

  It took Annette a moment to confirm that the ships were even on the same scale. The Majesty was over two kilometers long and a kilometer wide, a curving horseshoe shape of elegant lines and flowing nacelles—and fifteen and a half million tons of modern warship.

  “The Majesty is the current front-line super-battleship design being used by the Imperial Navy,” Forel noted. “One of the other Duchies ordered a flight of sixteen of them and took out a construction loan with House Forel.”

  Li Chin Zhao had enough self-control to make it through an entire meeting while recovering from an epileptic seizure, but Annette heard his sharp inhalation as Earth’s Treasurer guessed where this was going.

  “They have now missed several payments, construction has been suspended, and House Forel has seized the hulls,” the Forel representative concluded.

  “Under normal circumstances, we would negotiate with the original debtor and come to an agreement, but this is the third time we’ve had problems with this Duke, and my brood-father wishes to make an example.

  “Understand that the circumstances are unique and the offer I am making will never be repeated,” Shaza Forel warned, “but House Forel, aided by the rest of the syndicate, is prepared to sell you these ships at cost to repay the debt we feel we owe you.”

  “And the other Houses?” Annette asked carefully, trying to refrain from doing cartwheels across the conference table. Sixteen super-battleships?!

  “House Forel will cover their portion of the margin at our expense,” the Indiri said calmly. “Even at cost, the price will be higher than we discussed for the Empress A!Anas.”

  “How much higher?�
� she asked. There was some leeway, assuming Ondu managed to pay the whole amount owed…

  “Twenty-five percent.”

  Annette nodded slowly. There was no way she could make that work.

  “If, however, you can make the payment we were discussing yesterday, House Forel can finance the remainder at a reasonable rate.”

  “So, ten percent now, seventy percent at delivery, and twenty percent over…”

  “Let’s say twenty long-cycles?”

  Annette didn’t even need to look at Zhao. She just leaned back in her chair and gestured to her treasurer.

  Li Chin Zhao leaned forward with a practiced smile on his face.

  “The amortization period is heavily dependent on the interest rate we agree on…” he began.

  #

  While Annette was quite sure that the translator was working and every word that Zhao and Forel said to each other was being presented to her in English, she completely failed to follow the twenty minutes of negotiation that ensued.

  She suspected the rest of the Indiri were following only a bit better than she was, but Zhao and Forel were clearly having fun.

  When they finally concluded, she was reasonably sure the Duchy had agreed to pay a higher interest rate to keep the deposit at the original amount and extend the repayment of the mortgage on the warships over forty long-cycles—twenty years or so.

  If Zhao felt they could pay it over that time frame, she was going to trust his judgment.

  “We have a deal?” Shaza Forel finally asked, directing the question to Annette.

  “Zhao?” she asked.

  “We’re good,” the Treasurer replied cheerfully.

  “I believe we have a deal,” Annette confirmed. “Forward the contract to myself and Councilor Zhao, and we will have your deposit and signed paperwork by tomorrow morning.”

  “I hope, Duchess Dan!Annette Bond, that our efforts here have helped change the opinion of our race that my brood-cousin must have left you,” Forel told her. “Karaz was a pirate, a slaver, and a murderer. These are…rare roles for an Indiri to take on.”

  “They are rare roles for any race to take on,” Annette allowed. “Karaz left a…strong impression. But your efforts on our behalf are appreciated.”

  Speaker Pozan bowed slightly, inserting himself back into the conversation.

  “I would emphasize a point Shaza made at the beginning of her offer,” he said smoothly. “This is not something that will be repeated. We do not make a habit of selling warships at cost, even to those we owe debts of honor. You are receiving this deal as much to punish another as to benefit you.”

  “Should I know whose ships we’re getting?” Annette asked carefully. If this deal was going to make her enemies, she needed to know. It wasn’t going to change whether she took the deal, but she would need to know.

  “No,” Pozan said calmly. “We will deal with them.”

  “What about delivery?” Elon asked. “Even with the Majesties, there is work we will need to do with armor and defenses.”

  The Speaker looked taken aback, but Zav Tal laughed. It was an uncomfortable barking sound from an Indiri, even as Annette was realizing that she quite liked most of the red furry frogs she’d met.

  “I very much would like to see your planned upgrades,” the youngest of the Indiri shipbuilders present said. “I think there are further discussions for us to have with Nova Industries, if Duchess Bond will allow?”

  “I will,” Annette confirmed. Elon knew the limits what she’d permit to happen with the defensive technology, but some kind of partnership with the Indiri could give Sol’s economy a huge boost.

  “The question on delivery remains,” she noted carefully.

  “Three of the ships are functionally complete,” Pozan told her. “We should be able to deliver those on the same timeline we’d discussed for the Empress A!Anas, twenty-five to thirty cycles for the delivery.

  “The rest…” The head of House Pozan flickered his tongue in what Annette was realizing was the equivalent of a shrug. “It may take most of a long-cycle, but we should have them to you eighty to a hundred cycles before you are required to provide the Navy their ships.”

  Annette glanced at Elon.

  “Can we do that?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said slowly, then nodded firmly. “Yes,” he repeated. “We’ll make it happen.”

  “Then we have a deal,” Annette repeated.

  #

  Most of the rest of the morning was taken up by pleasantries, the Duchy’s cooks having dug into their supply of Universal Protein to assemble a “cocktail party” with food that both species could eat.

  Annette had long and extended experience with UP at this point and could identify its somehow uniquely bland flavor underneath anything, but she still managed to be continually surprised by just what a good cook could manage with the artificial substance.

  Finally, she retreated to her partially assembled office, also on the penthouse floor of Wuxing Tower, and glanced over her inbox, trying to identify which of the messages forwarded to her today was most critical.

  Very little made it to her communicator without being critical.

  She’d barely managed to finish reading the subject lines before Elon slipped into her office, her lover looking about as energized as she was feeling drained.

  “The Nova board will be meeting with Pozan and Tal tomorrow,” he told her as he slid a chair around the desk so he could sit with his leg touching hers. “We’ll go over the armor and the Sword and Buckler systems, see if we can sell them on buying prefabricated defense systems.

  “Armor, however, we’re not going to have for sale for a while,” Elon noted. “Since you apparently now want us to refit super-battleships.”

  “I wasn’t going to turn them down, not if we could find a way to pay for them,” Annette replied. “That’ll meet our obligation to the Navy and give a full echelon to protect Sol. I was going to be happy with the damned battleships, but…”

  “There was no way you could justify turning down that deal,” he agreed. “I don’t envy Jean trying to crew them, but those ships…they’ll almost guarantee Earth’s safety.”

  “And short-circuit the A!Tol’s attempt to force us to sell the armor tech,” she told him. “I understand why they did it—they need that edge against the Kanzi—but it was still a dick move from our perspective.”

  “Do you think Kurzman and Wellesley will have any problems getting the money?”

  She chuckled and squeezed his leg where it touched hers.

  “I sent them to Tortuga,” she pointed out. “Ondu Arra Tallas is as honest as a broker on Tortuga gets, but that’s a low bar to clear. Even if he works entirely cleanly, the station itself is dangerous.

  “They’re going to have problems,” she concluded. “But I trust Pat and James to deal with them. It won’t be the first time we’ve left bodies stacked in the halls of Tortuga. They’ll be fine.”

  Elon nodded.

  “I’m going to offer the Indiri a three-way joint venture,” he said quietly. “They, Nova, and the Duchy each put in a third of the costs to built a fitting-out complex. We start with the Indiri building the ships, then they send them to us for armor and active defenses.

  “We split profits three ways and provide a massive upgrade to the strength of the Imperial Navy. I think they’ll be in—it’s a win for us all.”

  “We’ll find the money,” she promised. “Zhao might quit by the time we’re done, but he’ll find us the money.”

  “It feels like everything’s starting to break our way,” Elon admitted.

  “Don’t say that,” Annette told him. “We still have Kanzi scouting parties running through our space. Anderson and what’s left of the Weber Network may be quiet, but I doubt they’ve decided to just go home.”

  She shook her head.

  “Things are looking good,” she acknowledged, “but that just means the universe is winding up the other damned shoe.”


  #

  Chapter 33

  Hunter’s Horn emerged into the Kimar system with the entire crew on edge.

  While it was extremely unlikely that anything had gone dramatically wrong while they were searching for Shadowed Currents, the presence of Kanzi capital ships in the Sol Kovius zone meant it was entirely possible the Imperium was at war.

  As Harriet studied the sensor take, she realized that the fleet base was missing an entire squadron of capital ships. Sixteen battleships and their escorts were gone.

  “No sign of a battle, correct?” she asked softly as the cruiser cut its way toward the remaining warships.

  “None, Captain,” Vaza confirmed. “It appears one of the squadrons has been deployed elsewhere; no signs of damage or a combat action here.”

  “Good,” she said with a sigh. “Take us in, Ides,” she ordered. “Send our identity codes and inform Fleet Lord Tan!Shallegh that we found Shadowed Currents and retrieved her hardened data storage.”

  She leaned back in her command chair, glancing across her personal screens as she checked the codes she was seeing. All eight of both the super-battleships and fast battleships were still present, but the regular battleships were gone.

  If there had been no battle, then it appeared Tan!Shallegh had activated one of his contingency plans and deployed the battleship squadron forward.

  “Captain, inbound communication for you.”

  “I’m activating the privacy shield,” she informed her bridge. “Send it to my command chair.”

  Aboard an Imperial warship, the privacy shield was a security screen that was transparent only one way…and was rated to resist plasma fire.

  When the shield was in place, the transmission resolved onto her screen with the image of a small hairless humanoid with massive black eyes, no visible ears or nose, and dark gray mottled skin.

  A Pibo. One of the Imperial Races, and also a race with only three representatives in the Kimar Fleet Base that Harriet knew of.

  “Squadron Lord Uan,” she greeted them instantly. The Pibo had three genders required for reproduction and a fourth, naturally neuter, gender. Uan was a neuter.