Redoubtable (23 page)

31

Twelve
hours later the
Wasp
coasted to a halt before Jump Point Beta.

“Captain Drago, launch a probe with a full-spectrum reconnaissance suite. No need for it to whisper a word about us,” Kris ordered.

“Probe away,” came from the captain only seconds later.

Kris had considered several options for this probe, including seeing if they could get more bandwidth for a wire to peek though the jump point. Some very smart people were now working on solutions to those problems. “Working on” them was the operative phrase.

Today, Kris would do things the old-fashioned way.

The probe was gone for ten long minutes. A second one stood by immediately to take its place on the other side the moment it slipped back and began a download to the
Wasp
. For the next six hours, the two probes rotated stations, one downloading what it observed while the other continued the observations.

There was a warm yellow sun on the other side. A beautiful blue-green world orbited it in the life zone. Blue oceans showed plenty of water. The planet shimmered with a thin sheen of atmosphere. It would take the boffins a half hour to confirm what Kris knew at first glance.

This planet was as lovely to the human eye as Mother Earth ever had been.

In orbit around the planet was a rudely-knocked-together space station that held three ships, one of which matched the electronic profile of the
Cushion Star
. During the first three hours of observation, two shuttles fell away from the station and headed for the same lake dirtside.

On a bay of that lake was a medium-size town with an agrarian hinterland far too large for its own needs. Examination easily identified that the crops growing over about half the land were those usually needed to feed a growing population: grains, fruits, vegetables. What was growing on the other half of the land’s ground cover didn’t match anything known in the farming database.

“Do we have a spectrum fingerprint on the latest new drug turning up on the older worlds?” Kris asked.

Abby shook her head. “No. But I suspect we do now.”

The radio frequencies were active . . . but hash to the listening probes. “Every word on the bands is encrypted,” Chief Beni reported. “I’ve got Da Vinci working on cracking the cipher, but if it’s a daily throwaway, and they’ve already sent the key, I don’t think we’re going to crack it today.”

“And I thought I was paranoid,” Kris said. “Jack, Commander, do you see any defenses?”

“Nothing visible,” both said, then Commander Fervenspiel went on.

“There’s no reason they should be active. As for the station, since it’s not a standard model, there’s no telling what defenses it has.”

“But it likely does have defenses,” Jack added.

“Any way we can find them out?”

“Attack them,” the commander suggested.

“I’d hoped to have something better to tell your admiral before he has to do that.”

The commander shrugged. “I can’t see anything on that station standing up to a Fury-class battleship. I doubt anybody on the ground there has the weapons to stand against a brigade of our Marines.”

Brute force did seem to be the Greenfeld solution to most problems. Having been on the receiving end of that approach once or three, Kris knew someone could throw a spanner into it.

Not easily.

Not cheaply.

Still, she’d been the one tossing monkey wrenches a time or three.

The commander seemed to follow where Kris’s thoughts were taking her. “Not everyone has a Longknife to help them thwart overwhelming Greenfeld power.”

“Let’s hope so,” Kris said. “Let me know when you think you have as much data as we’re likely to get from this reconnaissance.”

“I think we have,” the commander said.

Kris considered what that meant. They had all the available information on the target that held Cara. And there was no way Kris was comfortable about launching an attack based on the smattering of intelligence they had.

With a sigh, Kris ordered, “Captain, the next time our scout comes back, pack it in and let’s head back to St. Pete.”

Fifteen minutes later, the
Wasp
was accelerating at 1.5 gees.

NELLY, THERE’S SOMETHING I WANT YOU TO LOOK UP. I REMEMBER READING ABOUT IT WHEN I WAS A KID. I HAVEN’T RUN ACROSS IT SINCE. NOT THAT I’D REALLY WANT TO. Kris told her computer what to look for. It took Nelly several hours to find the reference. It was in the personal library of one of the boffins.

Kris listened to what Nelly had found and nodded. THAT WAS ABOUT WHAT I REMEMBERED. Kris tucked it away for the coming meeting with Admiral Krätz.

As the
Wasp
approached High St. Petersburg, there were a number of new merchant ships tied up together. When Captain Drago sent a low-order query at them, their responders were hardly civilian:
Hornet
,
Dauntless
,
Fearless
,
Intrepid.

Here, for the first time, were all the ships of Kris’s Patrol Squadron 10, all except the
Surprise
, which was still probably lugging survival rations to Kaskatos, an unending and thankless task.

There was also one other ship, a small schooner not unlike two of the ships Kris had just identified tied up to the pirates’ station. Its transponder was very illegally off.

“Captain Drago, please send to PatRon 10. I will have a meeting of all COs, XOs, and senior Marine officers in the
Wasp
’s wardroom ten minutes after we dock. Send an information copy to Admiral Krätz with my regards and compliments. I will meet with him at his pleasure if he cannot make my staff meeting.”

Then she turned to Commander Fervenspiel. “I will understand if you wish to depart as soon as the gangway is down. I will have you provided with a copy of all the take we got from our probe.”

“I already have orders to stay. My admiral will be here shortly and receive the data take from your own hands, Your Highness.”

Kris raised an eyebrow at the honor.

The commander made a small bow. “If I am to have a grand duchess on my ship, I see no reason not to start practicing now.”

Commander Phil Taussig of the
Hornet
was first to board the
Wasp
after she tied up to her usual place between Admiral Krätz’s flagship the
Fury
and her sister ship the
Terror
.

No sooner had he rendered honors than he stood aside. “I was just passing Kaskatos when I got your ‘all come’ message. Knowing you Longknifes, I figured it translated as ‘Hey, Rube, I got a fight brewing,’ so I brought along your two old friends.”

Following along right behind Taussig’s XO and a Marine platoon lieutenant were Lieutenant Penny Lien Pasley and Colonel Cortez.

Kris had left them on Kaskatos, hoping they’d get themselves a life there and become so involved that they’d forget they’d ever been close to one of those damn Longknifes. Especially one who was hankering to go out and find what or who was making scout ships vanish.

“Like a bad penny, I’m back,” Penny said, not realizing how true that was.

Kris, for her part, found that she’d never been so glad to see two faces in her life.

“We got plenty of work for you,” Kris said, and passed them through to make room for Jack Campbell and the key members of his team. By the time all her command teams were aboard, the admiral was still nowhere in sight.

“Commander Fervenspiel, you want to wait here for your elephants?”

He failed to suppress his grin at Kris’s familiarity with his lofty superiors, so he covered it with a hand. “My orders are to listen to every word you say,” he said, with as pleasant a smile as such a declaration of so little trust allowed.

“Sergeant Bruce.”

“Ma’am,” the Marine said, snapping to attention.

“When Admiral Krätz and his team arrive, show them to the wardroom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, leaving Kris to lead the Greenfeld commander there herself.

And get the surprise of her life.

The room snapped to attention for her. Every last one of them, even Colonel Cortez, whose status as her prisoner of war and employee made his rendering of honors something special to her, if rather ambiguous.

“As you were.” Kris remembered it was now her duty to say that and watched as the room relaxed.

The tables had been arranged in one long table down the center. The left-hand side was vacant, awaiting the Greenfeld admiral. The right-hand side had the captains and command structure of her squadron. There were chairs along the wall for staff and others. Captain Drago, for now formally decked out in his official Merchant Marine captain’s uniform, had taken over the foot of the table for the officers of his contractor crew.

Someday, Kris would have to straighten out the chain of command on her ship. Someday, but not today. So far it had worked to the satisfaction of all involved . . . and some people very far up the chain of command who weren’t involved but kept their noses in her business.

Thank you very much, Grampa Ray,
she thought.

“We have a problem,” was what she said.

“So what else is new,” came from somewhere down the table.

“That you, Phil Taussig?” Kris said. “Last time we served together, you were so uptight about the proper Navy way that I’d never expect something so not shipshape from you.”

“This is my second cruise with a Longknife. Maybe I’m less worried about getting struck by lightning.”

“We’ll see. Nelly, first slide,” Kris said, and turned to face a lovely picture of the pirate planet.

“So that’s what Dry Tortugas looks like,” Lieutenant Commander Jack Campbell said.

“Dry Tortugas?” Kris said.

“Yeah, that’s what the pirates are calling the place.”

“Excuse me,” Nelly put in, “but wasn’t it the Isle of Tortuga that was the pirate haunt back on old Earth in the Caribbean Sea during the 1600s.”

“I’d trust you more than I trusted the knuckleheaded pirates we captured,” Jack Campbell said, “but the crew of the
Bucket of Blood
and its computer agreed their home port was Dry Tortugas.”

“
Bucket of Blood
?” Kris once again found herself echoing.

“Somebody’s seen too many pirate vids,” Jack observed.

“Way too many,” Campbell agreed.

“How do you know so much about all this?” Kris asked. “The only time I captured a pirate I had to shoot its bridge full of holes and kill most of the command crew.”

“While we invited them aboard, right kindly-like,” Campbell said through a poorly swallowed laugh. “We were convoying two merchant ships around the Sooner planets when we found this new ship waiting for us at a jump point, the schooner you see parked next to the
Dauntless
. It sidled up to us right friendly-like and casually announced it was a pirate and we were all its booty. The two merchies pulled up their skirts and started running. We kind of went putt-putt and yelled our engines were not cooperating. So the pirates concentrated on us and came on board. We had ourselves this little ‘panic party’ waiting for them. Several of the Marines and sailors dressed up like ladies and ran around the ship shrieking for help.”

Kris glanced at his XO, Lieutenant Amber Kitano. The female junior officer only shook her head. “Yes, we have plenty of
real
women aboard the
Dauntless
, but no way would we play damsel in distress like our dear captain wanted.”

“We needed someone to look and sound terrified,” said her CO.

“Not in my Navy this woman won’t,” said his XO.

“Anyway, we had a lot of people,” Commander Campbell went on, “running around shrieking and screaming. The pirates were swinging cutlasses and being oh so very bold and bad.”

“Right up to the moment when we started filling their big butts full of sleepy darts,” Amber drawled dryly.

“The pirate captain was oh so offended that we’d brought guns to his knife fight,” Commander Campbell said, grinning from ear to ear. “Those were the last words he said to me as he laid his head down and went to sleep.”

“What about the stay-behind crew on his ship?” Kris asked. “Didn’t they try to destroy the computer?”

“Oh no,” the commander said, waving his hand limply at Kris. “Boarding a helpless merchant ship looked like so much fun that nobody, just nobody, wanted to be left behind. They did leave a cabin boy and girl behind, in charge of the whole ship, they were. And very busy doing what teen boys and girls tend to do when left alone with no adult supervision. Both were very upset when we interrupted them.”

“Anyway,” Amber went on, “we got the
Bucket of Blood
with only a couple of sleepy darts fired and not so much as a data file erased.”

“So while the princess here was chasing one pirate to its base,” Admiral Krätz said, entering the wardroom, “you were capturing a pirate and finding out the location of its base.”

Now it was Kris’s turn to announce “Atten’hut,” and the admiral quickly waved them down with an “As you were,” before half could get out of their chairs.

The admiral had brought a sizable team of his own. Several Navy officers, Marine officers, and one additional lieutenant whom he took a moment to introduce. “May I formally present to you the heir apparent and daughter of my Imperial Majesty, the Grand Duchess Victoria.”

“So your father took the plunge into full Imperial mode,” Kris observed.

“Once your great-grampa Ray was officially recognized as King of the United Sentient Federation, Daddy could hardly wait.” Vicky sighed.

“You got quite a title,” Kris said.

“I can’t tell you how underwhelmed I am at the moment,” Vicky said. “So, getting back to business, is the
Bucket of Blood
home ported at the same place as this planet Kris followed our fleeing slaver to?”

“The coordinates appear to be the same,” Captain Drago put in.

“Commander Campbell, did you get any information about planetary defenses from the
Bucket
?” Jack asked.

Jack the corvette skipper was shaking his head before Jack the Marine captain finished asking the question. “It looks to me like they pretty well compartmentalized everything. The crew of the
Bucket
are singing to save their lives. We’ve hacked into all their codes. We’ve read them all. No joy as far as information about station or planetary defenses.”