Engaging the Enemy

by Elizabeth Moon

  Ky nodded to the frame on the wall. “There it is. See for yourself.”

  “If you’ll pardon me…”

  “Of course.”

  “Let’s see, now…” Argelos was up, peering closely at the letter of marque. He had a small tube in his hand that Ky guessed was some instrument for determining the validity of the document. “Did you study much about the privateer system? How it works in practice?”

  “No. Borderline pirates, is what we were told. We certainly were not told that they were an integral part of Slotter Key’s defense system. That came as a complete surprise.”

  “Um. This reads just like mine. Superficially at least it seems to be the same. Impressions the right depth; ink and paper the right kind. A good forgery, if it’s not genuine. I have to wonder, though, if the government was removing protection from your family as you suggest, why it would give you a letter of marque.”

  “I wondered that, too, frankly,” Ky said. “I wondered if it might be a fake, intended to get Vattas into even more trouble, but it came from a source I can hardly doubt.”

  “Can you tell me what?”

  “Spaceforce,” Ky said. “Someone I know personally.”

  His brows went up. “Spaceforce? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. The source was…unimpeachable.”

  “I don’t think I understand at all,” he said. “Unless someone’s feeling guilty. Are you fully aware of all the law governing privateers?”

  “No, no more than I knew about how privateers work. I hoped to find someone from home who could help me out with that. You’re the first I’ve found.”

  “Hmmm. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to send you a copy of the pertinent regulations and things. But about working together—”

  “Perhaps if I talked to your adviser, I could explain—”

  “He wants nothing to do with you. He was quite adamant on that point; apparently he thinks some past contact would…er…contaminate, is the way he put it, any cooperative action.”

  “He knew me?” Ky asked. “He was at the Academy?”

  “Or on one of the training ships. I’m not sure which; he declined to say. He considers you a loose cannon, that much is certain. Overenthusiastic and not overhonest, he said. He’s only been assigned to me within the past year; my former adviser developed health problems and had to take medical leave.”

  Ky immediately thought of her nemesis at the Academy, the cadet whose lies to her had caused her expulsion, but he should not have graduated yet. Who could this be?

  “I don’t see that, myself,” Argelos went on. “And youngsters can mature, grow some sense. I was wild enough, in my young days. Still…I’m not ready to go against his advice.”

  Ky tried again. “Sir, I still say we should work together—all the privateers—to take care of these pirates. I think it’s essential—”

  “That can’t possibly work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…as I said, there aren’t enough of us. Not from Slotter Key alone, anyway. And we don’t have any way to communicate. And privateers from other systems aren’t likely to cooperate—”

  Ky wondered if this was the right time to play her best card. Surely it couldn’t hurt. “We can solve the communications problem.”

  His brows went up. “Really? How?”

  “Captain Argelos, have you ever heard of shipborne ansibles?”

  He scowled at her. “Ansibles on ships? That’s not ISC technology. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble we’d be in—?”

  “The pirates have them,” Ky said. “How else do you think they coordinated their attacks? Besides, we found a number of them on Osman’s ship.”

  “But the ISC will interdict our home world if we use non-ISC communications—”

  “No, they won’t,” Ky said. “They haven’t been able to protect the system ansibles. That was the source of their monopoly—they could supply, and protect and maintain—that vital system. Now they’ve failed—not just in one system, and not just for a short period. It’s been over half a standard year, and dozens of systems are still cut off. Systems will have to protect themselves. They won’t care what ISC says, if they have another way to communicate.”

  “Do…do these work just like system ansibles?” Clearly he was interested, leaning forward, eyes alert.

  “Not exactly,” Ky said. “ISC has set things up so that lightspeed communications can interface with only those system ansibles installed by ISC—ansibles manufactured with preset origination codes specific to each customer.”

  “Then they’re useless—”

  “No. What it means is that we can’t connect directly to system communications webs with these ansibles, but ship-to-ship communication is quite possible, as is ship-to-system-ansible if the system ansible is functioning. It’s a parallel system.”

  “How hard is it to install? To operate?”

  “Osman’s ship had one installed,” Ky said. “We haven’t had to do an installation, but I do have a manual for both installation and operation.”

  “I would worry about detection,” he said. “How do you know that this device isn’t transmitting your whereabouts to the pirates? System ansibles have a locator code.”

  “We’re still alive,” Ky said. “I imagine that if the pirates knew where my ship was, they’d have attacked me by now.”

  “Except that you killed Osman, you say. That might give them pause.”

  “Not if they’re as strong as you say,” Ky said. “You said they could gather ten or fifteen ships at a time; no one ship would stand a chance against those odds.”

  “What’s the difference between their protection racket and what you propose?”

  “A true interstellar space navy subordinate to civilian governments? Quite a lot. The pirates are saying Pay us or we’ll attack you. I’m saying Fund a space navy and they’ll attack the pirates or anyone else.”

  “But both cost the citizens directly.”

  “Sure they do. But in one case the citizens get to choose who protects them, and how. They agree on price beforehand.”

  “You make sense, Captain Vatta, but I still…” His voice trailed away. “I’m still bound to listen to my adviser. I can try to talk to him, but…I don’t know.”

  Ky sensed that she had pushed him as much as she could; she hoped he would come to agree with her later.

  “Thank you for coming, Captain Argelos,” she said. “I understand your concerns, and hope we can continue this conversation another time.”

  His face showed relief; he shook her hand before leaving.

  _______

  A few days later, Ky had just finished her daily inspection of the Environmental section when an alarm called her forward.

  “What’s happened?” Ky asked, coming onto the bridge.

  “Empire Line’s Princess Philomena just arrived insystem, squalling like a banshee,” Rafe said. “Apparently the pirates hit Bissonet and have taken over the government—blew through the planetary space militia as if they weren’t there. Threatened to scorch the cities if the government didn’t give in. They’re imposing tariffs and blowing up ships that don’t cooperate. Just like they did to Vatta, they’re saying.”

  “As we expected,” Ky said. “Did they have a name for themselves?”

  “The Deepspace Benevolent Association. Commanded by—again no surprise—one Gammis Turek.” He nodded at the screen. “This is what he looks like, they think.”

  He was tall, dark, and missed handsome by only a small margin.

  “He’s probably charming,” Ky said. “Rogues often are.”

  “Ouch,” Rafe said, glancing at her and away. “Actually, they’re saying he’s terrifying. Can go from calm to hysterical in a nanosecond, and kills on whim.”

  “Ummm.” Ky studied the picture. He looked older than she was, younger than Osman or her father. He wore an outfit that looked like leather or a good synthetic, the deep burgundy jacket decorated with strips of metal. Probably bonde
d to personal armor. The pants, an even darker shade not quite black, had a burgundy stripe up the outer leg. Black boots, of course. One hand gloved, with metallic strips that were probably useful in a bar fight. The other bare, showing a tattoo, the design half hidden in this view. “He’s certainly dressing the part, isn’t he? Big bad pirate chief.”

  “I suppose. Yes. Only wants a hat with a feather.”

  “He’ll have it on his helmet,” Ky said. “Flamboyance is useful, of course.”

  “Yes. There’s only one vid clip of any of his people…” Rafe called up the next image. Turek was standing, arms crossed, while two men in burgundy shipsuits seemed to be searching someone, and a third read from a list.

  “Same color, different fabric,” Ky said.

  “I never knew you were so interested in clothes,” Rafe said.

  “Clothes are data,” Ky said. “He’s chosen those clothes for a reason; if we understand that, we know something about him. We can see, for instance, that he prefers a showier material for his outfit than they wear. No problems with privilege, I’d say. The color—that’s trickier. If we knew where he was from, what his background was, that would help. Colors mean things to people, but not the same thing to all people.”

  “Red without having to flaunt it?” Hugh suggested.

  “He’s not worried about flaunting,” Ky said. “He’s a peacock for vanity, I’d say. No, the burgundy has a reason. Red plus. Fire and smoke? No, he’d go more orange. Red and black, maybe…danger and death. Interesting.”

  “I don’t see what difference it makes what he wears,” Martin said. “What he does tells us who he is, what he’s really like.”

  “What he wears tells us who he thinks he is,” Ky said. “Military psych class—understand your enemy’s viewpoint.”

  “Give me enough weapons and I don’t need to understand my enemy,” Martin said. “Just blow ’em away.”

  “Understand them, and they’ll put themselves in your sights,” Ky said. “Much more efficient.”

  “I suppose,” Martin said, grinning.

  “I would not have suspected you of subtlety, Captain,” Rafe said. The others gave him a sharp glance, but Ky laughed.

  “Hardly that, Rafe. Simple good straightforward military analysis.”

  “Be that as it may, what are you going to do about this fellow?”

  “Kill him,” Ky said cheerfully. “When we can, at least.”

  _______

  The Captains’ Guild buzzed like a kicked beehive. Insystem captains, long-haul captains, all talking at once by the noise level. Ky signed in with the reception clerk. “Any chance of a table for one in the dining hall?”

  “Another hour, then yes, Captain Vatta.”

  “Very good. Put me on the list, please.” She glanced around; the bar was jammed—clearly no seats there.

  “Captain Vatta!” There, across the reception area, she caught sight of Captain Argelos. “A word, if you please.”

  She noticed as she moved toward him that a convenient lane opened up for her. No one else spoke to her, but they were obviously aware of her presence. No wonder: he had called aloud.

  “You’ve heard about the Philomena, of course…,” he began.

  “Yes. The whole Bissonet system attacked, the government falling…”

  “What you said before…you were serious?”

  “About privateers combining to make common cause? Yes, completely.” Around them, conversations had muted; she was aware of that, as if she could see ears elongating and waving in the breeze.

  “Captain Bisdin says the pirates had a whole fleet. Fourteen ships at least. There’s no way one of us could meet that alone and survive.”

  “Ummm.” Ky made the noise just to encourage him to keep talking.

  “It’d take more of us…more than just you and me.”

  “Yes, it would,” Ky said.

  “I don’t see how…we don’t even know where the others are. And I don’t know how to fight a fleet action.”

  “I do,” Ky said.

  His eyes widened. “You—? You expect to command?”

  Now a circle of silence surrounded them; she could hear faint shushing noises toward the edges of the room. This was not the best moment to publicize her plan.

  “Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else,” Ky said.

  Argelos flushed and his mouth tightened. Then he said, “All right. Where?”

  “I’m dining here, when a table opens up. After that, you’d be welcome to visit my ship.”

  “We could share a table,” he suggested.

  Was that too eager? Was he perhaps more than another privateer captain? She smiled at him anyway. “I make it a rule not to discuss business during meals,” she said. “But aside from that, we could indeed share a table.”

  “Excuse me,” said a woman who’d been a few feet away. “You’re one of the Vatta family?”

  “Yes,” Ky said, glad of the interruption.

  “Was your ship attacked like other Vatta ships?”

  “Yes,” Ky said. “More than once—but unsuccessfully.”

  “She claimed Osman Vatta’s ship as a prize,” Argelos put in.

  “Osman was the family black sheep,” Ky said, answering the question not yet asked. “Apparently he joined the same group that attacked Bissonet, and we suspect he’s the one who made the Vatta family their first target, in revenge for being kicked out.” Heads nodded. Family conflict and vengeance were familiar experiences. “So he attacked me, and I managed to defeat him and take his ship.”

  “What about the ship you had before?” someone asked from the back of the circle.

  “My cousin took it over,” Ky said. “She had a contract to complete elsewhere.”

  “Do you think Vatta’s no longer the target?” the woman asked.

  “I think everyone’s the target,” Ky said. “All of us. These pirates want to run things for themselves, have everyone paying tribute to them. Our system governments wouldn’t cooperate and fund a real space navy, so there’s no interstellar force to deal with them.”

  “So it’s hopeless.” That was a stout older man. “We can’t fight ’em; we might just as well pay what they demand.”

  “I didn’t say it was hopeless,” Ky said. This was not how she’d planned to launch her proposal, but it was a moment to seize.

  “I say it is,” the man said. Heads turned to watch him. He shrugged. “They have more ships, more weapons. Bad enough when we met them only out in deep space, a long way from our ports. But if they can replace governments, destroy the little protection we had insystem, then there’s no way we can move cargo without being seized and plundered.”

  “One government isn’t the whole sector,” Ky said. “The same thing that’s kept us from having a real interstellar space navy makes it hard for them—they have to overthrow each system separately—”

  “That won’t be a problem,” the man said. “My government was already worried just by the attacks on Vatta. Now, hearing that a whole system was overthrown, they’ll be looking for ways to ‘reach an accommodation’ as soon as possible.”

  “Not my government,” said the woman who had spoken first. “Kessel-Tinian doesn’t cut deals with anybody.” She glared at the man, who glared back.

  “Are you saying my government—”

  “Enough,” Ky said. Somewhat to her surprise, they all fell silent and looked at her. “We won’t solve this by bragging or by giving up—or by waiting for our governments to do it for us. They can’t even communicate with one another while the ansibles are down.”

  “Well, you surely don’t think we can do anything, do you?” asked a tall man. “We’re just civilians; our ships don’t have any weapons—”

  “There are merchanters with armed ships,” Ky said. “Think about it.”

  “Privateers!” the man said. “As bad as the pirates, the way I see it. Probably in league with them.”

  “Not all of them,” Ky said. “I’m a
privateer, and I’m not on their side.”

  Silence again. Then, “You?”

  “Me.”

  “So…Slotter Key is standing up to the pirates? Then how come you Vattas were attacked?”

  “Slotter Key sends out privateers—you all know that. That may be why a Slotter Key family was attacked. Bissonet doesn’t license privateers, so we don’t know whether the pirates would have insisted on taking them over.”

  “But how do you think we can fight back? Without weapons, without our governments supporting us?”

  “Yes—is there really any hope?”

  Ky looked around. It was absurd, the way they were watching her, as if some miraculous answer would appear on her forehead. “Of course there’s hope,” she said. “But it won’t be easy…”

  “You have a plan?”

  “I have ideas,” Ky said. “I’m not going to tell you everything about them here. One or more of you may be working with the pirates, after all.”

  A hiss of indrawn breath, and the crowd around her shifted, faces turning to eye their neighbors.

  “You think one of us would help them?” That was the angry bald man.

  Ky shrugged. “Someone who’s been threatened, then offered immunity for spying on other captains…where better than the Captains’ Guild, after all, for picking up all the gossip? We’re not all saints, are we?” A chuckle at that. “So I’ll tell you I think there’s hope—the pirates aren’t that strong yet, though if we wait until they’ve coerced a lot of systems into helping them they will be. I won’t tell you more about my plans, not in an open gathering like this. But if you want to know more, talk to me quietly.” She smiled at them, then said, “Excuse me, please.”

  _______

  The next morning, she was called to the stationmaster’s offices.

  “Captain Vatta, we have concerns.” The stationmaster, two other men in civilian dress, and a woman in the uniform of the station police sat around the table of a small conference room. “Sit down, please.” The chair indicated put her in bad light, but Ky sat down anyway.