Queen of the Pirates (24 page)

“Loyalty to Arnulf?”

“Ha,” he cried. “That man sent me to
Sarmarsh
in the first place.”

“Yes,” Desianna agreed. “To keep you safe from the Agano clan and their allies trying to get revenge for Willem.”

“Well then,” he snarled at her quietly, “that certainly didn’t work. It took Rory all of five minutes to try his luck when I got back.”

“Arnulf thought that you were conspiring with Ian Zhao and the Red Admiral to overthrow him,” she replied, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.

“And now?”

She could see his anger running just below the surface, like a hungry leopard seal hunting.

“Arnulf told them that they risked his anger if they touched you. That he would protect you from them if they tried again. Does that count for anything?”

“I had heard that, from
her
,” he said. “Did he mean it?”

For a moment, she could see the crack in his armor. Jessica. Apparently, she had gotten to him.

Desianna wondered if either of them realized how they reacted when the other’s name came up. Or rather, if they understood why.

She kept a serious face, even as she smiled inside.

“He wasn’t sure.” Desianna pressed her point home, like a duelist against a suddenly–lame foe. “Jessica convinced him to bring you with us on this Promenade. Probably since you wouldn’t be safe with Arnulf absent.”

“Keller did that? Why?”

Desianna had once had a small lap–dog that would occasionally give her that same confused look, that odd cock to the head, when she spoke to it. She fought down the laugh that threatened to erupt from her lips at the memory. This was most certainly not the moment for such levity.

“Apparently,” Desianna said ambiguously, “she saw something in you worth salvaging at
Sarmarsh
, and again at
Petron
. Perhaps she thought you had it in you to grow up and become someone more interesting than just another pirate from
Corynthe
?”

For just a moment, Desianna thought she had gone too far. Certainly, with the old
Warlock
, that would have been too much. But this new person, this Daneel Ishikura, former governor of
Sarmarsh
, former conspirator, former Captain, had plumbed new depths.

At least, that’s what she was counting on.

His next words confirmed it.

“So what would you like me to say here, Desianna?” he said simply. “Shall I dance to Arnulf’s tune? Implicate Jing Du and Ian Zhao in such a way that I’m an innocent bystander? Spin tales of treachery and conspiracies to fill his need to settle old scores?”

“No,” she replied. “Because you wouldn’t even believe them yourself, Daneel.”

He blinked, shock blanking his face.

Really? Were there any men out there with half a brain?

This was another one of those times when she wished that
Corynthe
was sophisticated enough that Arnulf could show off his brains, and that men like Daneel Ishikura could become educated, instead of being big, dumb warriors.

“Two things,” she continued, letting her own anger bleed slowly into her voice. “First, you need to figure out whose side you plan to be on when the flag goes up. You don’t have long. Second, you really need to decide what it is you want to be when you grow up. Or were you planning on being a man–child for the rest of your life?”

He just sat there, apparently an empty shell.

Desianna decided that she didn’t want her tea after all. She rose, stepped around him, and opened the hatch.

“I still don’t know what it is that Jessica sees in you, Daneel,” Desianna said, looking back. “Hopefully, something good.”

She stepped fully into the outer chamber and closed the door before he could see the tremendous grin on her face. He was almost as transparent as Jessica. If only one of them could be made to see it.

“Mistress?” Intan said, rising from a comfortable chair and setting a book down.

Desianna waved her off, letting her smile turn mischievous.

“Intan,” she said, “I’m going to retire to my cabin, feeling unwell, if anyone asks. I suspect
Warlock
will emerge in a few minutes, probably somewhat bewildered. Make sure he’s okay when he departs, please.”

“Yes, madam,” Intan smirked back. “Was the tea and the company too much for our poor pirate to handle?”

“Indeed, I suspect it was.”

“Very good,” her maid replied. “I will see him off.”

Desianna crossed the chamber and entered her personal suite, normally apparently a place for visiting admirals, but currently hers.

Jessica had entrusted her to bring
Warlock
around. She just really didn’t understand what Desianna planned for him. Or her.

Chapter XXXI

Date of the Republic December 3, 393 Hemera System

The comm chirped just as he was sitting down to dinner.

“Aeliaes. Go ahead,” Robertson Aeliaes,
Brightoak’s
command centurion, replied.

“We just got hailed, Skipper,” his second in command said. “You’ll want to be up on the bridge in about twenty minutes or so when they get close enough to talk real time.”

“Who is it?”

“
CR–264
just dropped out of Jumpspace and transmitted a big packet of data for whoever was here to carry back to the fleet. When he realized it was us, he also requested a face to face.”

“Jessica Keller and
Auberon
with him?”

“Negative, boss,” she replied. “Just Tomas Kigali for now.”

“Acknowledged,” he said. “Wake up the flight deck and deploy a shuttle over to pick him up. And send a bottle of wine over when you do. Knowing Kigali, he just set another navigation record from wherever he was before this.”

“Roger that.”

Ξ

Brightoak’s
primary conference room alone was larger than
CR–264
’s entire bridge. It was an odd thing to come to mind as Tomas Kigali walked into the room. It made him smile.

CR–264
was designed for long sails with a small crew, an old Revenue Cutter. She was compact, designed to maximize efficiency. A piloting room, where he practically lived, with his office opposite the head. Space for him, a pilot, and a comm yeoman.

The fighting deck was down a level, with sensors and tactical scrunched in tight together so they could fight as a team with a minimum of friction and distraction.

But
Brightoak
was a Destroyer Leader, bigger than even
Rajput
. Kigali felt like he could probably stuff his whole vessel inside her flight deck. He couldn’t, not even on
Auberon
, but it felt that way.

So much open space because they had enough power to do anything they wanted.

He smiled to himself. Except sail halfway across the galaxy without stopping for potty breaks every thirty days.

Command Centurion Aeliaes, an old acquaintance he still called Robbie, was already present, along with members of his command staff. He stood as Kigali entered.

Physically, Robbie was an impressive officer. Tall and well–kept, the man had muscles like a swimmer, or a polo player. Chocolate–brown skin and darker hair, with eyes that appeared brown or golden, depending on the light.

Mentally, a brilliant man always on the edge of insubordination with Jessica’s old nemesis, Fleet Lord Loncar, according to some of the stories Kigali had heard through the fleet grapevine.

Right now, just what he needed most in the world.

“Tom,” he said, “good to see you again.”

Tomas crossed the space and shook his hand. “Robbie. You have no idea how happy I am to find you guys. How the hell did you end up here?”

“We were attached to the fleet sent out to the
Cahllepp Frontier
after you guys left. But Jessica’s old commander, Fleet Lord Loncar, just doesn’t like us much,” Aeliaes replied. “He sent us out here as a punishment detail. Keeps us out of his hair.”

They sat and settled as a yeoman brought coffee and tea.

Robertson Aeliaes speared him with a hard look finally, his chocolate skin getting all wrinkly with the seriousness of his thoughts.

“Okay,” he said, “out with it. I thought you were cruising the fringes with Jessica. What brings you to
Hemera
?”

Kigali nodded and smiled grimly. He quickly related the events at
Ramsey
,
Sarmarsh IV
, and
Petron
to a roomful of rapt listeners.

“So this, what did you call it, a Promenade?” Aeliaes asked.

“Correct. A Promenade,” Kigali replied.

“Right,” Aeliaes continued. “Promenade. So she’s sailing the King of the Pirates world to world to show off that we’re friends now? Are we?”

Kigali looked at the assembled officers with a serious face. “Between us, she’s expecting all hell to break loose when she completes the circuit and gets back to
Petron
.” He shrugged. “She sent me on the mail run before she knew more than that.”

“And what do you want from us, Tom?” Aeliaes asked.

“I was just dropping into
Hemera
to leave a log packet and pick up news,” Kigali smiled. “From here, a straight jump across to
Ramsey
to see if I can talk the governor into letting me borrow
CR–255
and
CR–219
long enough to scare the bad guys back at
Petron
.
CR–264
’s out of her league solo against that many Motherships, but an interlocked escort squadron is a whole other beast. Jessica figures that more guns to back her play might convince whoever is being dumb over there to walk away instead.”

“Will it work?”

“Anybody but Jessica,” Tomas shrugged, “and I’d say no. Loncar for sure. But this is Jessica Keller we’re talking about. The woman always finds a way.”

“That she does. Need help?” Robbie Aeliaes asked slyly.

Kigali watched
Brightoak’
s first officer tap the table, just loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

“Devil’s Advocate, Commander?” she said. “First Fleet Lord ordered us to
Hemera
, not off on adventures beyond the pale. Much fun as they might be.”

Aeliaes smiled serenely. “Loncar ordered us to quote/unquote S
how the flag and remind the frontier worlds that the Republic still cares about them
.
Lincolnshire
would certainly welcome the morale boost that such a visit would entail.”

“And
Petron
?” she asked, formal in voice, but with a mad twinkle in her eyes to match his.

“Them’s pirates,” Aeliaes smiled. “Who cares what they think?”

He turned to Tomas Kigali. “Want some company?”

Kigali sniffed at the assembled officers and did his best Loncar impression. “Can this poor bucket of rust even manage such a jump?”

The room howled with laughter.

“I’ll have you know, Kigali,” Robbie Aeliaes replied after things calmed down, his dignity all mock–serious, “I was trained by Jessica Keller.”

“Well, then,
Brightoak
,” Kigali smiled. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Chapter XXXII

Date of the Republic February 4, 394 Above Callumnia

There was a quiet little observation bubble, dimly lit and well aft, down on A Deck, tucked in under the engines. Not inaccessible, but nowhere near any crew quarters or rec facilities. That made it a nice place to sit and watch the stars. Or, in this case, the big tumbling marble of a planet below them as
Auberon
slowly orbited.

Callumnia
. Third stop on the Grand Promenade with the King of the Pirates. Jessica snorted to herself at the grandiosity of the title. Still, it had been a success to hear Desianna give her all of the gossip during their weekly teas.

Certainly
Auberon
and
Rajput
looked fierce and intimidating when they dropped out of Jumpspace. All the more so when escorted by Arnulf’s flagship, the 4–ring Mothership
Supernova
, plus Ian Zhao’s 4–ring,
Kali–ma
, and David Rodriguez aboard his 3–ring,
Sky Dancer
.

Others also came and went. The 4–ring
Valhalla
had been with them for one stop.
Warduck
, a battered old 3–ring, had joined them here. The 2–ring
Black Prince
and a tiny little 1–ring named
Lithuania
called
Callumnia
home port.

Throw in a random collection of a dozen or so Strippers and a whole caravan of freighters, and it was something of a rolling party.

A very motley party.

Jessica smiled at that. They might talk about how civilized and proper they were, but every
Corynthian
merchant with an excuse had come along, happy to be protected from pirates.
Other
pirates.

Certainly, nobody would bother a war fleet like this. Jessica figured that with six weeks of training, she could probably take Loncar’s whole fleet, both
Ajax
and
Archon
, with just the ships in hailing range right at this moment.

“Am I intruding?” a voice asked quietly.

Jessica blinked. Apparently, she had been lost deeper in concentration than she realized. She had been doing that a lot lately.

And Marcelle hadn’t said anything about someone approaching.

“Hello, Daneel,” she turned to face him. “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

He was dressed in a simple outfit, dark blue pants and matching tabard, with a gray tunic underneath. It was almost severe by the fashion standards of
Petron
. It wouldn’t have turned heads on
Ladaux
.

She watched Marcelle and
Warlock
’s marine escort move a discreet distance, back into the hall and somewhat removed. Far enough away that they weren’t obviously eavesdropping.

He moved to the rail next to her, staring out at the stars.