A Dark and Dirty War, page 27
“Siobhan made sure her people spent the time productively by educating themselves when not on watch during long patrols. She gave all of us — officers, chiefs, petty officers, and ratings — a reading list shortly after we limped home from Cimmeria in Stingray.”
He gave her a knowing smile.
“She did the same thing in Iolanthe not long after taking command. I still have it somewhere. I understand those officers who took her recommendations seriously arrived at the War College well prepared. Those who didn’t read the classics before or during the course quickly learned to do so. Otherwise, they felt the sharp edge of her wit slashing their egos apart. Now, back to my original question. We received recordings of Siobhan interviewing the thirty-six rescuees. My folks are running the usual analysis on them, but I thought you might be interested in watching a few, such as Vitus Amali and Carl Renzo. We think they were on the removal list because the families of both wanted them gone in exchange for supporting a Sara Lauzier run at the Senate and then the SecGen’s chair.”
“Nice. I always figured the Amalis as murderous bastards who’d sooner knife you in the back than smile. But why would Judy Chu wish her husband to vanish?”
A cynical smile lit up Holt’s face.
“So she regains her marital freedom without losing the money Renzo brought into their union. He’s the rich one who funded Chu’s career. The new man isn’t quite as wealthy, but he is younger, more handsome, and apparently remains sober enough to be a good bed partner in the evenings. With Renzo gone, she inherits and, in return, backs Sara’s political rise. And no, it’s not actionable evidence, but the theory fits. We’re still working on the others, but it’s obvious Geraldo Amali has wanted Vitus out of the family business for a long time. Yet because Vitus inherited his block of shares, he can’t be dismissed or bought out.”
“I’ll come over at two. Does that work?”
“It does. Shall I prepare some popcorn?”
“No, but a green tea would be nice.”
— Forty-One —
“You know, Admiral, it’s almost unfair.” Pushkin, who’d been watching the passive sensors pick up Lena Corto’s ships one after the other as the 101st Battle Group approached Cullan, running silent from the hyperlimit, glanced at Dunmoore from his workstation. “They don’t know we’re here, armed to the teeth and without a shred of mercy.”
“As a wise man once said, if you’re in a fair fight, you screwed up somewhere along the line.”
“True.”
This time, instead of concentrating in geosynchronous orbit, Dunmoore’s ships were coasting toward the planet — a harsh, marginal, sparsely inhabited world — on divergent courses so that they were spread out. That way, no one could escape from view or from incoming fire. Lena Corto wouldn’t pull the same trick as at Abaddon.
But was she paranoid enough for enhanced sensor watches hunting ghosts? Corto couldn’t know Iolanthe intercepted and decrypted her conversation with Daver. Not even he knew.
She would have arrived a day or two earlier thanks to her smaller ships being capable of riding higher interstellar hyperspace bands than a massive warship like Iolanthe. But was that enough to relax her people’s vigilance? They were ex-Navy and used to staying alert through any sort of tedium.
“The final tally is seven ships, Admiral,” Chief Cox reported. “All of a similar design. They’re chattering among themselves as if this were a friendly port, not some forsaken rock at the hind end of space. Nothing else in orbit besides a few satellites. Like Captain Pushkin said, it’s almost unfair.”
The 101st crossed the remaining distance to Cullan without a reaction from the Confederacy ships and assumed a geosynchronous orbit. Once her ships were linked via communication lasers, Dunmoore confirmed they could cover the entire planet, meaning none would escape.
“Chief Cazano, please put me on the frequency used by our targets.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” A pause. “You may cut through their chatter at your discretion.”
“Are we going up systems?”
Dunmoore glanced at Pushkin and shook her head.
“No. I want my voice to come from the ether. Once they’re paying attention, we’ll stop hiding.”
She called up her command chair’s virtual display.
“Ships belonging to the Confederacy of the Howling Stars, this is Rear Admiral Siobhan Dunmoore, Commonwealth Navy. Please put your so-called commodore, Lena Corto, on this link. I’d like to give her my terms.”
A minute passed, then the display shimmered, and a familiar face appeared, though it seemed to be aging visibly by the second as Corto recognized her old nemesis.
“How the hell—” Corto sounded both outraged and at a loss for words.
“It was simplicity itself, Lena. The problem is, you’ve always underestimated me and overestimated your own abilities.” Dunmoore’s voice took on that sweet tone her long-time crew such as Guthren and Pushkin knew only too well. “Which is why I’m wearing a rear admiral’s stars, and you’re wearing a mercenary’s getup. Captain Pushkin, the 101st is to go up systems now, please. Raise shields, power weapons, and activate target acquisition as per fire plan.”
“Why are you here?”
“To put you out of business, and as your sensors can now determine, I brought more than enough firepower for the job. By the way, the thirty-six you were intent on trafficking, they’re safe and comfortable in Iolanthe’s Marine barracks, eager to go home. Jamy Daver figured they weren’t worth me turning the Confederacy’s ground base on Abaddon into a smoking crater.”
An unflattering sneer twisted Corto’s face.
“You’d have never done it.”
“This is the Zone, where there is no God and no law but that of the mightiest. Oh, I’d have started with a demonstration first, a single kinetic penetrator just outside Rakka. If nothing else, the Syndicate running it would have pressured Daver into cooperation.” Dunmoore gave her a sad smile. “And now, I’ve come for you because you’re guilty of piracy, forcible confinement, kidnapping, and attempted human trafficking.”
“So, what now? You’ll take us prisoner and see that we end up in court? You’re hoping for a guilty verdict followed by life on Parth? I can guarantee you no judge will hear our case.”
“Why is that?”
Corto hesitated as if she suddenly realized she’d spoken out of turn.
“Let’s just say I can reveal things about the Athena matter certain people will not want known.”
“I see. Well, the fact that you undeniably committed an act of piracy within the Commonwealth sphere is all I need to be the judge, jury, and executioner. Out here, my conducting a drumhead court-martial is legal. Or I could simply blow your ships into their constituent atoms with you aboard. It would save time. Besides, the Navy doesn’t pay prize money anymore, so there’s no incentive in taking them.”
“You’re not a butcher, Dunmoore. You don’t have it in you to simply murder three hundred Navy veterans.”
“I’ve changed, Lena. I’m no longer so forgiving, but if you’re interested in a deal for yourself and your crews, I can offer a way out...”
After a long moment of silence during which Corto’s hate-filled eyes were locked with Dunmoore’s, she said, “I’m listening.”
“Tell me what you know about the Athena hijacking, and I’ll allow everyone aboard your ships to land on Cullan unharmed with whatever cargo you want, using your shuttles. Then, once your ships are empty, I will destroy them. What happens after is in your hands, but Cullan is reasonably habitable from what I remember, and I’m sure Jamy Daver will eventually send someone looking for you. Information for life. That’s what I offer. You know me, Lena. I don’t renege on my word.”
“Very well. Sara Lauzier, the SecGen’s daughter. She was in on it. When we reached Galadiman, I had her brought to Captain LeDain’s day cabin, as per the contract — and before you ask, I don’t know who hired us. That was done by others in the Confederacy of the Howling Stars. We went through the passenger manifest while Lauzier told me who to take off, in what order, and at what intervals. She wanted them spaced, but I also have scruples, and she didn’t demur when I proposed trafficking them deep into the Zone. Once those on her list were off Athena, another part of my organization, posing as specialists for hire by the Commonwealth government, would stage a rescue and take Athena home. In other words, it was a contract, nothing more.”
Dunmoore nodded to herself. It explained Lauzier’s strange reaction when she and her boarding party appeared.
“Did you take everyone on her list?”
Corto shook her head.
“No. We were seven short. You arrived just a bit too early. But since I completed most of the mission, I figured letting you retrieve Athena would do, so I ran. There was no point in attempting to fight off an entire task force.”
“Pretty much the same situation as now. Give me those seven names, and you just bought yourself a new lease on life. Word to the wise, however. If I catch you or your people engaged in piracy, smuggling, or human trafficking again, I will kill everyone involved without compunction. This was your one freebie. There will not be another. So do yourselves a favor — go home and find legal jobs. Walk away from the Howlers because I’m only getting started. After today, the fact you’re Navy veterans will no longer factor in any decision the Fleet makes concerning your future.”
“The Fleet? Or Siobhan Dunmoore?”
“Since I’m the Navy’s instrument in the Protectorate Zone, there is no difference. I wasn’t facetious when I said I’ve changed Lena. The years since the end of the war weren’t what I’d hoped, and that has transformed me into a rather bitter, cynical person I don’t really like. Although I suppose I owe you for my reprieve and subsequent promotion. You and Sara Lauzier. Otherwise, I’d be packing my things while searching for a post-retirement job right now, instead of looking forward to a battle group broadside at your ships, something which will hopefully prove cathartic.”
“How much time are you giving us?”
“One hour. Don’t bother with sabotage. I meant it when I said we’ll destroy them but spare your lives. I give you my word.”
Corto nodded. “Okay.”
“The names?”
“One moment.” Corto glanced away, then, after a brief pause, gave her the list of those who weren’t taken off Athena in time.
“This is hopefully our last encounter, Lena. I don’t wish to see you dead before your time. You were a decent Navy officer who reached the rank of captain on her own merits. But if you don’t walk away from the Confederacy of the Howling Stars, I predict you’ll no longer be among the living this time next year. Dunmoore, out.”
Pushkin let out an amused chuckle.
“Wasn’t Lena’s reaction something we’ll remember over cold beers when we’re old, gray, and haunting our local Veterans Association lodge?”
“I didn’t know she could turn any paler than she already is, but the Admiral made it happen,” Guthren said in a tone of feigned awe.
Dunmoore held up a restraining hand.
“Let’s not get too gleeful because it’s not over yet. Whatever her faults, Lena Corto isn’t incompetent. Nor, I suspect, are her other captains.”
Thirty-five minutes passed in quasi-silence, then Chief Cox reported, “Shuttle launch from Vuko, sir.”
“Drex isn’t messing around. So much the better for him.”
Over the next quarter of an hour, each ship spat out four shuttles that entered Cullan’s atmosphere at steep angles.
“We’re no longer reading life signs on the ships, Admiral. So I figure we can — What the hell? They’re accelerating and gaining altitude — all seven of them.” Then, “Their targeting sensors are active and pinging us.”
“Blyat’ !” Pushkin’s hands danced across his workstation as he pulled up the data feed from Iolanthe’s CIC. “They turned them into attack drones. I’ll wager they set the antimatter containment units to go critical the moment they’re within range.”
“Signals, make to all ships — we are under attack. Execute fire plan and break out of orbit at maximum rate of acceleration.”
Within seconds, Iolanthe’s big guns began pumping out streams of plasma aimed at the nearest Confederacy ship, Mahigan. Its shields glowed green for a moment, then turned blue for just a heartbeat before assuming a deep purple hue as competing energies clashed. All the while, Iolanthe’s sublight drives fired at full military power as she pushed against Cullan’s gravity so she could put distance between her and the smaller, faster ship turned doomsday device, one whose return fire was creating its own greenish glow on the Q ship’s shields.
With the suddenness everyone remembered from wartime experience, Mahigan’s shields failed, and the continuous plasma stream from Iolanthe ate through her armored hull plating. Seconds later, a tiny supernova lit up as her antimatter containment failed, vaporizing the sloop and hurling a radiation wave at the Q ship, whose shields gave off a menacing purple aurora.
Iolanthe’s guns immediately sought out the next sloop in line, and it too died at the heart of a massive explosion shortly after that but at a greater distance. The battle, such as it was, ended abruptly within minutes, leaving the 101st Battle Group slightly shaken by Lena Corto’s brazenness.
“I need a status report from each ship, Gregor.”
“At once, sir.”
“Should I look for those shuttles, Admiral?” Chief Cox asked. “In case you’d like to repay them.”
Dunmoore shook her head.
“No. I gave Corto my word I’d let them live. Besides,” she allowed herself a rueful smile, “This on me. I should have made her swear she wouldn’t pull one last stunt, but I didn’t.
“Sir, all ships report no substantial damage. Strained shield generators are the worst of it, and they can replace damaged units from their own stocks.”
“Good. Commander Khanjan, set the 101st on a course for home.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral.”
— Forty-Two —
“This better be urgent, Blayne.” Sara Lauzier swept into his office like a battleship of yore under a full press of sails and took the chair facing his desk. “I can’t visit SSB headquarters too often. Otherwise, people will wonder, and that only creates problems.”
He gave her a bitter smile.
“You’ll love this. Siobhan Dunmoore made the Confederacy of the Howling Stars hand over the people they took off Athena. She apparently threatened a kinetic strike on Abaddon — that’s where the Confederacy has one of its hubs and was holding the thirty-six — if they didn’t cooperate. Jamy Daver, their top man in Rakka, didn’t think Dunmoore was bluffing. She had enough ships in geosynchronous orbit to wipe out the city and its surroundings with a single salvo of penetrators.”
Lauzier visibly blanched.
“Damn.”
“I hope you didn’t do or say anything to those thirty-six which might raise suspicions. So far, no one knows where Dunmoore and her battle group are. The squadron that took Athena left before Dunmoore made her presence overtly known, though they suspected she was there, hiding in plain sight. Dunmoore shouldn’t figure out where it went, and apparently, her ships departed on a different vector anyway.”
“The only one who knows anything is this Commodore person, and you said she fled. Considering how vast the Zone is, we should be okay.”
A chuckle.
“I shall be okay either way, Sara. It’s you I’m worried about.”
She gave him a hard stare.
“If I go down, you go down, Blayne. It’s as simple as that. Let’s hope Dunmoore doesn’t find the Commodore. We can deal with the thirty-six later.”
“You mean you can deal with them. I’m not doing anything more at this point. Disposing of your potential opponents and of unwanted family members in return for political favors was risky, to begin with. Now that it backfired, bide your time and wait. That’s the best I can recommend because the SecGen’s chair probably won’t be yours in six years at this point. If you can find a fresh source of patience, so much the better because impatience causes errors, some of them fatal. The next twelve years will pass and faster than you might expect.”
Her stare turned into a glare.
“I don’t need a lecture from you. I need solutions to prevent this from becoming a disaster.”
“What is it I should do, other than pretend we’re pleased with the outcome and a hearty Bravo Zulu for the Navy?”
“Make sure Dunmoore and her two friends at Fleet HQ, Kowalski and Holt, don’t dig any further. Let this become an investigation into sovereignists turned criminals and only that.”
Hersom sat back and contemplated her for a few seconds.
“Here’s the thing, Sara. Your father made the Grand Admiral give Dunmoore her due. I crossed swords with her during the war, and I’ll be among the first to recognize that she’s smarter and more ruthless than most flag officers. Holt? He’s enjoyed an interesting career so far. But at this moment, he’s the flag officer in Naval Intelligence who worries me the most because his division is the one charged with looking inward, investigating misdeeds by the likes of you and me, and prosecuting any sign of official corruption. And he’s good at what he does.”
“See that he’s run over by a truck or something.” Lauzier made a dismissive hand gesture. “Accidents happen, even in this town.”
“Perhaps, but Holt killed in a traffic accident would seem overly convenient in the eyes of his subordinates, who are frighteningly capable, and especially his friend, Kathryn Kowalski. She’s easily the most dangerous of the three because she’s navigating the currents and eddies of power not only in Fleet HQ but in Geneva at large as if she were born to it. And she’s the CNO’s rising star, possibly even a future Grand Admiral. Her dying of an accident at the same time as Holt? Let’s just say any fail-safes you and I put in place would pale compared to what those two likely have. As I said, let it be. Allow the Athena incident to become a minor footnote in the history of Rim Sector piracy and move on, Sara. Striving for retribution can turn into a deadly vendetta.”
