“If you say so.” He studied Sven. “What’s the matter, Longshanks? Why did you want a private meeting? I could have taken this call on the bridge instead of in the war room. Makes it look like I have something to hide, and you know how that makes men jittery.”
“The enemy divided their fleet, all right. But the wrong ships are coming our way. That changes our plans.”
Now it was Olafsen’s turn to scowl. “What do you mean, the wrong ships? We never talked about which ones would go where.”
“I assumed it would be the big cruiser. That’s the one I want to fight, not this little one.”
“That little one packs plenty of firepower.” Scans had matched the engine signature with a ship the Scandians had battled before. “Name of HMS Peerless, does that mean anything to you?”
“Is that Albionish? You know I don’t speak that jibber jabber.”
“The name Peerless means ‘without rival’ in English.”
“It’s got a rival right here in this system!” Sven growled, and Olafsen swore he could almost smell the raw meat through the viewscreen. “I want that big one. It hit me and hit me hard, and I’ll have my revenge. You heard the broadcast. It’s a woman in charge. Are we going to let her get away with it?”
Olafsen clenched his jaw. Stupid, thickheaded Scandian. Brother or no, Sven was a stubborn oaf. The Royal Navy may be full of women, spindly-limbed Hroom, and effeminate aristocrats, but he wagered they knew how to obey orders. None of this bickering like you saw among marauder captains and their crews of raiders.
The burnt-orange surface of Moloch stretched below them. The innermost world of the Great Bear System was a scorched, airless wasteland. An improbable place for the destroyer crew to hide and wait for assistance, but that was why the ruse was effective. It indicated that the warship had needed to find an unlikely hiding place, either because the destroyer was not spaceworthy, or because of casualties suffered by the crew.
Ironically, this was not far from the truth. The original crew was frozen in stasis, eventually to be sold as thralls on Roskilde or Odense. Scandians had landed the destroyer on Moloch to be used as bait.
The trick worked; a Royal Navy cruiser and four support ships were on their way. Two of them were torpedo boats, no match for the star wolves at Olafsen’s disposal. A third was a missile frigate, which was dangerous from a distance, but vulnerable to ambush. The fourth support vessel was a Singaporean war junk. Next to the cruiser, this was the one Olafsen was most eager to get his hands on. His brother had plundered new cloaking tech from the Singaporean refugees, and Olafsen wanted some of his own.
“We’ll stick with the plan,” he told his brother, “and keep our forces concentrated. It’ll be a quick and easy fight. Their defeat will weaken the enemy forces, both physically and psychologically. When we do attack the main base—”
Sven shook his head. “No, we’re going back right now. The hell with the destroyer, with these little ships coming down here. I want the big prize.”
“Listen to me, Longshanks,” Olafsen said. “I’m the commander of this expedition. I took that destroyer by force while you were diddling yourself on the lower decks.” He tapped his chest. “That makes me in charge, by our prior agreement. All the other marauder captains swore to it, too. If you want to modify the agreement, strap on a mech suit, bring your battered carcass over, and we’ll fight it out. Let the gods decide.”
For a moment, Sven looked like he’d take Olafsen up on the challenge, which had only been posturing. Finally, Sven threw back his head and laughed.
“There’s plenty of plunder for the both of us,” he said. “You’ll fight these ships flying toward Moloch. I’ll take some of the star wolves and go out to the asteroid belt.”
“How many?”
“Eight. That leaves you six. One them is Icefall, and you know how hard it can hit.”
“Travek’s ship,” Olafsen said. “He’s a loose cannon.”
“Keep him on a short leash, and he’ll be fine. Anyway, Ragnar Forkbeard’s ships are set to jump into the system in a few days. If either of us get in trouble, he can throw his wolves into the fray.”
“Why did you invite that old villain?” Olafsen asked irritably. First Travek, now Forkbeard—two of the most wretched marauder captains.
“Ha! You think I invited him?”
“He found out somehow. By the gods, it wasn’t me who let him know.” Olafsen shook his head. “That’s beside the point. We don’t need Forkbeard. We’ll keep our ships together and finish off the Albionish before he arrives.”
“You’ll have six star wolves, Brother. Six! The enemy thinks there were only five, and that those few have fled the system. My little trick proved effective, eh?”
“Effective enough. But that’s not the point. I can handle Peerless alone if I have to. The other ships, too. But you have no idea what you’re stumbling into in the asteroid belt.”
“Oh, I do.” Another grin, and this time Olafsen was quite sure he could spot scraps of raw meat still hanging between his brother’s yellow teeth. “You see, while you were fleeing down here to Moloch, I stopped on my way through the asteroids and dropped a few probes. Got some valuable information about the enemy. First thing they’re doing is digging a gun emplacement into a small asteroid—one of my ships spotted them scouring rocky outcrops.” Sven nodded. “They’re digging in, Brother. All the more reason to hit them now. And their loot is just sitting there. Once it’s buried beneath their new base, it will be harder to root out.”
Olafsen rubbed at his stubble. If what Sven said was true, then he might have other concerns besides just raiding this particular expedition. Albion was apparently setting up a major operating base in the Great Bear System. For what purpose? To encroach on Scandian systems? To push toward Old Earth? Did it have something to do with their fight against Apex?
This particular fight might prove pivotal. If Albion got a toehold, they could send their fleets on punitive expeditions against Roskilde or Odense, or even hit Viborg. But if Olafsen plundered the Albion supplies first, he’d have both the firepower and the reputation to launch major raids into enemy territory instead. He’d soon have the rich lands of Albion giving up their blood and treasure.
“Don’t worry,” Sven said. “I have no intention of stealing your share of the goods. We’ll divide it up, split everything according to our agreement.”
So you say.
Olafsen had little doubt his brother would hog the plunder for himself if he thought he could get away with it. The other Scandians would be Olafsen’s best insurance that this wouldn’t happen. A surly, suspicious bunch, they’d be watching Sven Longshanks from the moment the loot came into his hands until each man had received his share.
If those shares came. Sven had plenty of swagger with his eight star wolves. If he met the battle cruiser and her support ships in open combat, Olafsen had no doubt of the outcome. But it wouldn’t be open combat. The enemy would have several days to dig in among their asteroids.
Meanwhile, Olafsen may be leading a smaller force, but he also had a smaller number of enemies to fight here at Moloch. And he was the one choosing the nature of the battlefield, not the enemy.
“Very well,” Olafsen said. “But let’s make it interesting.”
“How do you mean?” Sven asked. He lifted his eye patch and rooted around with a thick index finger, scratching at something inside the ruined eye socket. “Another wager?”
“That’s right. Here are the stakes. Total victory or nothing.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. You take the enemy captain and you kill or capture everyone else.”
“Can’t promise that,” Sven said. “The wench might die in the crossfire. Might blow up her ship trying to ram me, for that matter.”
“Fine, then you kill or capture all the enemy ships. I’ll promise the same thing. If either of us fails, the other brother gets his share of the plunder.”
“What if we both fail?” S
ven asked.
Olafsen showed his teeth. “I can’t speak for you, little brother, but I won’t be failing.”
“Fine, then what if we both succeed?”
“Tiebreaker is whoever seizes the enemy flagship. For me, that’s Peerless. For you, it’s”—he waved his hand dismissively—“well, whatever that lady is flying. Second tiebreaker is taking the captain prisoner. Third tiebreaker is the total number of captives.”
“And if we both do all that and the number somehow comes out even?”
Olafsen shrugged. “Then the gods have determined we’re equals. Not likely, though. We both know the gods favor the eldest.”
“Unfair rules. The cruiser I have to defeat is bigger than yours, and there are more enemies in total.”
“Exactly right,” Olafsen said. “You can kill twice as many and still take more prisoners. I could capture every ship and every enemy crew and still lose. So who has the advantage?”
Sven let the eye patch pop into place. His good eye fixed on Olafsen, as if searching for deception within the older brother’s expression.
“Very well,” Sven said. “Have your man Björnman write up the terms, and I’ll put my name to it. But make it quick. I have a wager to win.”
Chapter Fourteen
It had taken time for the others on Void Queen to become accustomed to seeing their captain drinking her tankard of ale in the mess with the enlisted crew instead of with the officers. Lieutenant Capp, with her low York Town upbringing and her loud personality, didn’t seem to raise eyebrows when she appeared. Some of that was because she was shacking up with Carvalho, and Catarina knew the crew enjoyed the big Ladino’s warmth and wit. Catarina could have roughened her accent—the posh upper-class Albion accent had been learned, after all—but that would ironically come across as an affectation.
Still, Catarina softened her posture as she entered the mess. People looked up from their drinks or their bowls of stew, and a few conversations lost their raucous, even raunchy tone, but fortunately, most people carried on, paying her little attention. That was good.
She spotted Carvalho sitting with Capp on the far side of the room with another pilot by the name of Greeves, who was gesturing with her hands as she relayed an anecdote. The other noise in the mess drowned out Greeves’s words, but her gestures showed enough, relaying how she’d tried to stabilize her ship while shooting her guns at the same time. Capp laughed appreciatively. Greeves fell silent as Catarina approached.
“No, please,” Catarina said. “Go on.”
“Just telling about what happened up there. You got the report.”
“I figured that much. Don’t let me stop you.”
Capp’s arm was around Carvalho’s shoulder and her leg draped over his, but she withdrew them when the captain took the empty seat at the table. “Don’t mind me, Cap’n,” she said. “We was just having some fun.”
“I know all about what’s going on between you two, and it doesn’t bother me in the slightest,” Catarina said.
“You do?” Capp asked. “It don’t?”
Catarina turned toward the bar and lifted her voice. “Bring me an ale, would you? I’m bloody thirsty over here.” This brought laughter from the crew in the mess, and the atmosphere relaxed. She looked at Capp. “Admiral Drake warned me about certain . . . irregularities in his former crew. Why do you think he assigned you to my ship? Who better to serve under a misfit than more misfits?” She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t care about that fraternization nonsense. I’d rather have crew who would fight and die for each other than people whose only loyalty is to the fleet.”
“Huh.” Capp passed a hand over her scalp. “Well, that ain’t how they put it before. The navy don’t like this sort of thing. It’s bloody lonely out here without some companionship, but they say it leads to mistakes in combat, that sort of thing.”
“Yet your two old captains, Drake and Tolvern, found a way around the regulations when it was convenient, didn’t they?” Catarina’s drink arrived. She took a long swig and wiped the foam from her mouth. “Ah, that’s good. Look, Carvalho, I got your report, but I have some questions.”
Carvalho glanced at Greeves, who shrugged. “We put everything in there,” he said.
“I’ve got the what. Now I want the why of it, and you three can help me. Someone was spying on us. I don’t know who. Maybe Apex. The aliens could be watching to see if the navy goes after them. But probably not. Most likely it’s Scandians.”
“What makes you say that, Cap’n?” Capp asked.
“They already ambushed us once, which means they were anticipating our arrival. My guess is they took prisoners after beating HMS Forge and destroying her escorts. They got wind of our plans, and they want to stop us before it’s too late.”
“But we ain’t got no problems with them Vikings,” Capp protested. “We only want to get toward Earth and hunt down Apex.”
“Don’t be naive. You were on the other side of the law long enough to understand how this works. How would the freebooters and smugglers have liked it if the navy set up a base on Peruano or San Pablo? They wouldn’t like it, and would slip quietly away.”
“Unless they were strong enough,” Carvalho said. “Then they’d have other things in mind.” He had a distant look in his eyes, like he was thinking things through. He reached for one of the tankards sitting on the table.
Catarina swiped his hand away with a laugh. “Drink your own damn beer.”
Capp and Greeves brayed in laughter, and Carvalho blushed. “Sorry, Captain.” He grabbed his own tankard, drained the last few drops, and waved for another.
“I suspect that you’re right,” Catarina said. She took another drink and made a show of keeping the tankard closer to her side when she was done, which brought more laughter. “The Scandians are stronger than pirates and smugglers. Before the collapse of their home worlds, they had fully developed yards that could produce warships the match of Albion’s best.
“It’s lawless territory now,” she continued, “divided into God knows how many fiefdoms and freeholds, but they still have their yards. And now the Scandians are poor and desperate thanks to the incessant raiding, which only spreads what wealth is left around instead of creating more. They don’t see our incursion only as a threat, but as an opportunity.”
“So you’re thinking they’ll come after us?” Capp asked.
“I don’t think it, I know it. And sooner, rather than later. Once we dig in, we’ll be harder to root out, so they’ll want to do it now.”
“Thank goodness McGowan left us,” Capp said sarcastically.
“Hold on,” Greeves said. “Scans said the star wolves tucked tail and ran.”
“After a minor scrape?” Catarina shook her head. “I know what the scans from the Singaporean ship claimed, but I think it’s a feint. They’re either going to jump right back into the system, reinforced, or there’s some other fleet of enemies lurking nearby.”
“Or they never left in the first place,” Carvalho said.
“Or that,” she agreed.
“I thought you needed advice,” Capp said. “Sounds to my ears like you already done some scheming. You have a plan, don’t you?”
“Hang onto this one,” Catarina told Carvalho. “She’s smarter than she sounds.”
Capp thrust out her chin. “You think I don’t hear how you’re trying so hard with that accent of yours? You ain’t so posh as you sound. I heard your old man, you know. And your sister don’t talk like that, neither.”
“Hold on,” Catarina said. “That wasn’t meant to be an insult. I wasn’t being sarcastic, it was a real compliment. But if that business about accents sounded like McGowan, then please accept my apologies, Lieutenant.”
“Ah, it don’t mean nothing. Why are you here, though? You just talking things out? We could go to the war room if you need us.”
Catarina glanced at her hand computer. “The frigates leave in ten minutes. They’re hauling two hundred colonists
, six pieces of heavy mech, and the missile battery they’re going to dig into one of the outcrops Carvalho and Greeves scoured clean this morning. At least, that was the plan. Now I’m thinking we bypass that little chunk of rock and make straight for the main asteroid. Get started on the fortress as soon as possible. We’ll drop the goods down there with as many colonists as we can thaw in a hurry. Put them all to work building Fort Alliance.”
Capp made a sour face. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
“It was the least offensive of the options given to me by the Admiralty.”
“Ain’t we on our own?” Capp said. “We could call it Fort McGowan’s Bunghole if we wanted.”
“If that is the name that takes hold in the popular imagination, who am I to say no?” Catarina said. “But it’s Fort Alliance on the star charts.”
Carvalho crossed his hands behind his head. “We need the outer gun emplacements to protect the main fortress. There will be damaged navy ships in port, sitting vulnerable on the surface with nothing to hide them.”
“Eventually, but not now. We have no time. We’ll have to use our fleet for protection.”
“But he’s right,” Greeves said. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, she’d kept them to herself until now. “Without the guns in place, I could get my falcon straight through your warships. Our little wing could do some major damage. And if we could do that, what about a bunch of those star wolves? If they break your cordon, Fort Alliance is doomed.”
“We don’t have any damaged ships in port,” Catarina said, “so protecting them is purely hypothetical. I’m worried about the here and now.”
“That is even worse,” Carvalho said. “The enemy will see the goods sitting on the surface undefended, and they’ll go right for them.”
“Exactly. We’re not facing the Kingdom of Scandia—that is long gone. What we’re dealing with is a collection of glorified pirates. And I’m a pirate’s daughter, remember? McGowan reminds me often enough. What do these brutes want? They want our ships, our people as slaves, and most of all, the hundreds of thousands of tons of tech and arms and supplies we’ve brought with us. They want to steal the whole enterprise and make it their own.”
Queen of the Void (The Void Queen Trilogy Book 1) Page 14
