He said it gently, but Tolvern winced. There was no need to blame herself; a mission with two ships through enemy territory was meant to stir up trouble, and had.
“On the other hand,” he added, trying to deflect her guilt, “I seem to remember leaving my ship rather battered on an occasion or two. Remember the shape we were in after the First Battle of Barsa?”
“It’s worse now, believe me,” she said. “I’ll be raiding your armory and probably hiding in your shadow as we ship out.”
Drake wasn’t going to address that yet. Instead, he said, “I wish we knew where Djikstra and Megat were headed. Our charts of this sector are practically nonexistent.”
“I can help with that,” Li said.
He brought out his computer, and after fiddling around for a few minutes, got it to interface with Dreadnought’s computers. A complex web of jump points and star systems mapped itself out in 3-D above the war room table. Their position was marked blue.
Good charts were as much a state secret as the engineering of weapon systems. Jump points eroded or migrated over time, and what formerly seemed safe might take you into hostile territory or land you within the corona of a star. That Li was willing to share such detailed information suggested the extent of his cooperation.
“We only had two jump points marked when we came in,” Tolvern said. “But these charts are crowded with them.”
“The system is generally unstable. Most of these jump points carry some risk. Green jumps are reliable. Use the yellow ones with caution. I would advise against the two red jump points.”
“Still,” Drake said, “with so much wormhole activity, the Kettle System looks to me like a critical choke point. Why aren’t you trying to control access in and out?”
Li gave a bitter laugh. “Why do you think we built Sentinel 3?”
“A single battle station, no matter how powerful, is hardly sufficient. What about settlements? Naval depots?”
“We had four mining colonies and two naval bases,” Li said. “All wiped out in the war. The system has been a desert since then—only the sentinel, quietly waiting. The Hroom didn’t come, Singapore sent no ships, and Apex was absent until now.”
Drake wanted to call in his pilot and subpilot to take a closer look at the charts, but for now an overview would be enough. He peered closer.
“What about this jump point here?” he said, pointing at one of the green dots on the map. “That’s where the bigger Apex force disappeared.”
“That takes you deeper into the Dragon Quadrant,” Li said. “Toward my home world, in fact.”
Toward what was once my home world, and is now an abattoir. Li didn’t actually say that last part, but the dark look that flashed over his face was clear enough.
“I see,” Drake said. He took another look at the map. “We came from here. Another jump back in that direction and you’re in Hroom territory. What about this one?” Drake pointed to a jump point well placed among the inner worlds, this one yellow.
“That leads toward what we call the Snake Quadrant, a big mass of stars with no known jump points. We discussed taking the entire population—or as much as could be evacuated—and fleeing Apex if we could find a way in. We found nothing. You can bump around the edges, but you won’t get in.”
Drake exchanged a glance with Tolvern. Was the Snake Quadrant the same thing Albion called the Omega Cluster? They knew someone who claimed she’d found a way to jump in and was leading a one-way mission to colonize it.
Li pointed to another jump point, this one situated near the farthest gas giant in the system. “This also takes you to the Hroom worlds, but more importantly, it’s where Megat and Djikstra fled.”
“Ah,” Tolvern said, leaning forward in her chair. “Megat might have known about the jump point ahead of time. And apparently Djikstra had a ship stashed nearby.”
“I cannot possibly see how,” Li said. “There have been no visitors to this system, no invaders. Djikstra would have had to drop a ship on one of the moons a dozen years ago, and that’s impossible. How would he have known?”
“More likely he slipped in under your instruments some time recently,” Drake said. “It’s a small ship.”
“Impossible,” Li said.
“With all respect, Admiral,” Tolvern said, “I agree with Commander Li. Djikstra didn’t know where the Singaporean base was hidden. We just broadcast in and waited for an answer. There’s no way the Dutchman planned his escape—it must have been spontaneous.”
“So what happened between when the fugitives launched their pod and they got their hands on a ship?” Drake asked.
“A lance was trying to pick up the pod,” she said, “but we lost track in the chaos of battle and didn’t see how it ended.”
“We didn’t see even that much,” Li said. “Too many other things going on.”
“And we were too far away to pick up that level of detail,” Drake said, “so I guess none of us know for sure. But I’m suspicious that an escape pod somehow escaped Apex.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Tolvern said. “The buzzards must have helped them. They scooped up the pod, gave Djikstra and Megat a captured ship, and sent them off toward the jump point. But why?”
“I don’t believe it,” Li said. “Megat is a fanatic, but he hates the birds as much as anyone. I don’t know this other man, this Djikstra, but surely he wouldn’t let himself be willingly taken onto an Apex ship. What human would?”
Tolvern looked thoughtful. “Maybe they didn’t have a choice. Maybe they’re being forced to obey the enemy.”
“You don’t know Megat like I do. There is no possible blackmail or threat that would force him to help the birds.”
Drake tapped at his console to manipulate Li’s chart of the Kettle System, and the jump point taken by the two runaways activated a link to another chart. This showed an unfamiliar collection of small, rocky planets circling a red dwarf. There was only one other jump point visible, and it led to yet another system. This third system showed a medium-size yellow star, with two rocky planets in the habitable zone, and a single, massive gas giant that was nearly large enough to be a star in its own right, a so-called brown dwarf. There were no other jump points marked, only the entry.
“Looks like they’ve flown into a cul-de-sac,” Drake said. “Is that right?”
“You’re looking at an incomplete chart,” Li said. “Singapore never explored that system, just jumped in long enough to scan the big objects. It’s empire territory, and a Hroom fleet chased us out.”
Drake studied the array of planets more carefully, then compared it to his own database. The computer gave a match.
“I know this system,” he said. “It’s Hroom territory, all right. The hostile faction.” He pointed to a spot near the outermost of the rocky worlds. “There’s a jump point somewhere in orbit around here, if I remember right. General Mose Dryz would know exactly where. Another jump or two and you can get to a small Ladino colony on Samborondón. They’ve been taking Singaporean refugees. I’ll bet that’s where the fugitives are headed. Some of our old friends we knew on San Pablo are there, too.” He turned to Tolvern. “That’s where Rodriguez has set up his new yards.”
“I’ve heard of Samborondón,” Tolvern said. “A watery world—that’s about all I know. Why would Megat and Djikstra go there? Just to hide as far from civilization as possible?”
Drake gave it some thought. “You can jump straight from Samborondón toward the frontier, and from there, you can reach Albion space easily enough. So it’s not as far from civilization as it looks, and that worries me.”
“There are Hroom on Samborondón, right?” Tolvern said. “Talk to the general. He could send a message and have Djikstra and Megat intercepted.”
“Not the right kind of Hroom,” Drake said. “If I remember correctly, this system is neutral in the civil war. They won’t be helping Mose Dryz.” He gave Tolvern a thoughtful look. “Rodriguez runs a good operation. Wouldn’t
be the first time we used his yards.”
“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not going after them.”
“You’re in no shape to carry on the fight. Rodriguez can patch you up. And I want those fugitives.”
“Admiral, please.”
Drake nodded, more decided now. “I’m giving you a second plasma engine and sending you back for full-scale repairs.”
“And what are you going to do when I’ve left?”
“I’m still figuring that part out,” Drake admitted. “Most likely try to pick a fight with the enemy.”
“Then you can’t afford to send me away. You’re way out here, no way to supply yourself. You need all the fire support you can get. Blackbeard’s guns—”
“Blackbeard is a liability, Tolvern, not an asset. I can cobble you a quick engine repair, but you’d still be the slowest ship in my fleet. I can’t be waiting around for you, can’t be sending you hiding behind the lines whenever the enemy appears. You’re no help to me until you’ve seen the yards.”
Tolvern thrust her chin out and crossed her arms. “Hardly unprecedented. Happens every time someone takes damage. When is the last time you went into battle with every ship in perfect shape?”
Drake hardened his voice. “Tolvern, you will take HMS Blackbeard to Samborondón for repairs. While there, you will search for Djikstra and Megat and bring them into custody. Are we understood?”
The fight went out of her expression, though her tone remained grudging. “Yes, Admiral. As you command.”
“Good. We’ll be docked here for a few days while we get that new engine installed, and we can figure out how to get you safely through. The general might have some ideas. Meanwhile, Commander Li,” Drake added, “I want to see these weapon systems you’ve devised, and if there’s any way we can put them to immediate use.”
Li cleared his throat. “Yes, well. There’s still the matter of securing our cooperation.”
“Oh, yes.” Drake had forgotten all about Li’s conditional offer for assistance. “Your so-called conditions.”
“I will aid you in any way possible, of course. But first, you will use your fleet to liberate Singapore and save it from extermination.”
Chapter Eight
A few hours later, Tolvern was on Blackbeard, together with Admiral Drake, who’d come back with her in the pod. Blackbeard had just snagged a second away pod, and Tolvern and Drake waited in the engineering bay while it was hauled in. The pod popped open, and a long, slender figure unfolded himself.
Drake leaned over and whispered in Tolvern’s ear. “He’s in a foul mood. Give him plenty of space.”
One look at Mose Dryz as he stomped toward them and she wondered why Drake felt he needed to be explicit. The Hroom general muttered to himself in a series of whistles, squeaks, and grunts that passed for Hroom language, and his long limbs flailed as he walked, making it dangerous for anyone who stood too close.
The bay was filled with engineers and boatswains, who had a plasma engine disassembled on the floor and hanging from chains. The heat shields were in place, but the rest of it was a mess of parts large and small. This spare engine, such as it was, had come from a missile frigate in Drake’s fleet that had kept overheating every time it accelerated for a jump. Drake had stripped it out and replaced it with a spare, and now it was Tolvern’s replacement. Assuming they could get it operational again.
Several of Li’s technicians had come over to assist in the repair, and they stared as Mose Dryz approached Tolvern and Drake. The general seemed to feel their gaze and turned to glare.
“He’s a Hroom,” Barker growled nearby, “not a buzzard. He’s not going to eat you for lunch.”
The general looked down on the chief engineer. “I would not be so confident about that, human.”
Barker grunted. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind, Barker,” Tolvern said. “Keep to your work.”
Mose Dryz fixed his gaze on Tolvern, his entire nose flattening against his face as he breathed heavily. He loomed above her, well over seven feet tall. His mottled pink skin flushed with every breath.
“We are honored by your visit, General,” Tolvern said, “but a warning would have been nice.” “So you need an escort through the Getzus System. Is that accurate?”
“That was the admiral’s decision, not mine. If you have an issue with the . . . instructions”—she was careful not to say “orders”—“then you’ll need to talk to Drake, not me.”
Mose Dryz glanced sideways at Drake, who didn’t speak, only gave a slight nod.
“And once that is accomplished, I am to take position near the Kettle and wait for the Albion fleet to return,” Mose Dryz continued. “If Apex approaches, I am to sacrifice my fleet to protect the sentinel base.”
“Again, General,” Tolvern said, “these are not my decisions.”
“You humans stand in solidarity,” he said bitterly. “There are harvester ships in Hroom territory, hovering uncontested above our planets. Who worries about them? They’ve killed millions already, laid waste to several systems. No human will do a thing to help us, but Albion will fly to the other side of the sector to rescue a human colony at risk.”
“We need this battle station, General. They will only share their charts and technology if we agree to drive off the buzzards.”
“Oh, you need it, do you? If it were a Hroom base, you would simply take it. And then you would probably sell us into slavery as our reward.”
Drake had been silent during all of this, but now he seemed unable to hold his tongue. It was largely because of his actions that Hroom slavery had been abolished.
“That is a dark insult, General,” he said. “We are not slavers, as well you know.”
“You would still take what you wanted were it a Hroom base.”
“Go ahead, then,” Tolvern said. “Take the technology yourself. Sentinel 3 drove off a huge fleet of Apex ships, but I’m sure your six sloops of war can manage.”
The general stared back. Then he turned on his heels and walked away from the work on the plasma engine. There was visible relief among the Singaporean workers, and a few grunts from the Blackbeard engineers. Tolvern and Drake followed.
Tolvern spoke at his back. “We’re negotiating with the Singaporeans because we have to.”
“So you claim.”
“It may not be apparent,” Drake said, “but Captain Tolvern is against the plan.”
Mose Dryz turned. “Against it in what way?”
“Tolvern doesn’t want to go to Samborondón, she wants to stay in the fight. I want her to stay in the fight, too, but her ship is no good to me now, and I won’t sacrifice her. I won’t sacrifice you, either.”
“If you want the Hroom as an ally,” Mose Dryz said, “you need to defend our territory, too. And it isn’t just decent behavior, it is a wise strategy as well. Those harvester ships are feeding on us, but they won’t stop there. They will multiply in number and carve a path right through the empire, and then they’ll be on your doorstep, too.”
“They’re already on our doorstep,” Tolvern said. “We’ve been attacked in Albion space.”
“Nibbled at, probed. Nothing like the wholesale slaughter we’re suffering. They’ll soon be feeding on us like scavengers on a corpse. Then it will be your turn.”
“You have a point,” Drake said. “It helps us if the Hroom stay strong enough to fight. That’s one reason I turned over the sugar antidote.”
Mose Dryz looked solemn at this. His pale complexion showed that he’d continued as an eater, and Tolvern guessed that the small satchel at his waist carried packages of sugar. The general somehow maintained enough discipline to keep from gobbling so much of the white stuff that he suffered swoons in the middle of combat, but he didn’t have enough to rid himself of the addiction entirely by taking the cure.
“I need more than that,” he said at last. “I need you to fight for me. You have made a promise to this base commander. You will attack
the harvester ship feeding on Singapore, and he will give you technology. I will make a similar arrangement. That is, if you want my help in reaching Samborondón.”
“I don’t need you,” Tolvern said. “Blackbeard can get to Samborondón without you.”
“Maybe you can, maybe you cannot, but I do not think your admiral will risk it.” Mose Dryz held Drake, who suddenly looked uncomfortable, with his gaze. “He will not see his former ship destroyed.”
Tolvern studied Drake to see if it was true. Her heart kicked at what she saw. It was worry, all right, but not just for the ship. He glanced at her, looked away, then glanced at her again. He was thinking about her, too.
“Blackbeard is an important ship for the fleet,” she said carefully. “Admiral Drake has legitimate concerns. Some of his reasons may also be personal. Is that fair to say, Admiral?”
“I want my hands on those two traitors to the human race,” Drake said, sidestepping the question. “And if I can get my beloved . . . ship out of harm’s way at the same time, so much the better.”
That pause and his emphasis seemed obvious to Tolvern, but the general would miss the misdirection, of course. Hroom always did.
“Tolvern needs to get through, and the two of you want my help,” Mose Dryz said. “And I am telling you that my help comes with conditions.”
“Which are what?” Drake asked.
“There are five harvester ships in Hroom territory. If you are willing to fight the one at Singapore, you can do the same for us.”
“To escort me through one potentially hostile system?” Tolvern asked. “I don’t think so.”
“Plus, you’ll have continued use of my fleet. If not, I will take them elsewhere.”
Tolvern scoffed. “Hah. Where?”
“She’s right,” Drake said. “You’ve given me six sloops, which is a nice gesture, but it won’t turn the tide of the war. Give me a real fleet—that’s how you can help me. You do that, you put your ships under my command, and I’ll take the fight back to Hroom territory.”
When the general didn’t answer, Drake shook his head with visible anger. “There you have it. The rest of your forces are fighting the civil war, chasing each other instead of battling Apex harvesters. You’ve repeatedly assured me you cannot offer more than six sloops. You also say you won’t put yourself under my command. Very well. Help me escort Tolvern, and then you can be on your way. But don’t cry to me in another year when there’s nobody to stop the buzzards from feasting on your empire’s rotten corpse.”
Dragon Quadrant (The Sentinel Trilogy Book 2) Page 8
