The Privateer (30 page)

This minimized the confusion when they arrived at Torlon. There was some scuffling among the boat pilots over the gigs, and the admiral's barge almost precipitated a fight. However, eventually everyone seemed reasonably satisfied; even those unfortunates assigned the workboats for mine placement.

With crews manning the three base ships, the Vishnu techs slaved their astrogation comps to
Cheetah'
s, and she led them back to the mine, with none of them knowing the location of Cale's scrap yard.

Cale had no real reason to conceal the location of the yard, but he persisted in thinking of the yard and
Pride
as a bolt hole in case of emergency. Besides, if one of the base ships was captured or destroyed, the Santies couldn't come looking for him there.

Nearly all the Vishnu workers had volunteered to accompany the base ships, and maintain, repair and service the boats, in hopes of being permitted to immigrate to Ilocan after the war. Of course, the possibility of prize money only added to their willingness.

Three Santiago supply ships disappeared before one managed to limp back home and report the mined jump points and the attack gunboats. Minesweepers were dispatched, and all of them promptly disappeared as well.

A minesweeper was sent out escorted by the only warship remaining in the Santiago system, a partially repaired frigate. It returned a week after jumping out, reporting that a number of small, fast, well-armed boats had attacked them. The minesweeper, their last, had been damaged and unable to escape. It was presumed destroyed.

And so the Ilocano privateers had their first warship prizes. By this time, a system had been worked out; when a ship was captured, especially if it was damaged, like the minesweeper, its crew was held on the mother ship while Vishnu techs checked the prize over and made any needed emergency repairs. Then the prisoners were hauled to a moon prison, and the prize jumped for the mine.

The frigate was hastily re-repaired, and dispatched to Ilocan with orders for the return of at least one of Santiago's three Old Empire-pattern destroyers, to defend the home planet from an unexpected Ilocano offensive capability.

Meanwhile, off-planet commerce had come to a stop. No traders emerged from Santiago's jump point. The frigate had reported the existence of a beacon notifying incoming traffic that the jump point had been mined. It had been ordered to attempt to destroy the beacon enroute to Ilocan, but it was not to delay or engage hostile forces in order to do it. The Santiago high command was shaken. Something was going on, but
what
?

The frigate managed to pick its way through the jump point minefield, and outrun the gunboats, though it was forced to fight something of a rear-guard action as it found its way through the minefield to the second jump point. However, when it emerged in the second recal system, it was caught by the edge of a mine blast. Suddenly it was engaged in battle with five darting, jinking gunboats. The Captain launched two message torpedoes aimed at the Ilocan jump point. Fifteen seconds later a collapsium-plated rocket penetrated his hull and hit his fusactor, and his ship became an expanding ball of hot gases.

One of the message torps encountered a mine, but the primitive AI of the other somehow managed to avoid them, recognized the jump point, and slipped through it unharmed.

Admiral Juan Manuel Gonzalez-Villareal was stunned by the incoming message.
All
incoming jump points mined? Impossible. The Ilocano savages didn't have the technology. Small, fast attack craft? Incredible. Ilocan
had
no space presence. He thought hard. Maybe there
was
something to it. A couple of supply ships were overdue. And what had happened to the frigate that sent the torp? Send back a destroyer? That would be no problem. These ignorant savages weren't doing anything but huddling in the wilderness, hiding from the Admiral's forces. Oh, they had a certain primitive cunning, and they were causing trouble for his ground forces, but they had nothing to threaten his orbital force. Come to think of it, why not send
two
of his three destroyers home? Fewer mouths to feed, and maybe there really was something for them to do at home. One destroyer should be plenty here; especially with the frigate and corvette he had monitoring the comm satellites.

One of the destroyers emerged into the first recal system within fifty meters of a drifting mine. The other,
Furioso
, commanded by Capitan Raul Rojos de laVega, emerging a few minutes later, noted the higher-than-normal radiation readings, but did not connect them with its sister ship. Captain de laVega had been warned that the jump point might be mined, so they proceeded dead slow, all sensors straining to detect the lethal spheres. One had to be destroyed by a laser blast when it wandered too close.

The Ilocano boat force watched helplessly as the Santie destroyer picked its way through the minefield. The jerry-rigged boats were no match for an Old Empire-Pattern destroyer, and every one of them knew it. Onboard the base ship, the Captain prepared a message torp, reporting the destruction of one Santie destroyer, and containing all the information they could gather about the other one. He would send it on to the mine. It was essential they keep track of the whereabouts of the Santie big guns. There was a rumor that a raid on Santiago itself was in preparation. They would need to know about this.

Furioso
, meanwhile, was creating, as best it could, a map of the minefield. Once clear of the minefield, it boosted max for the next jump point. As it approached the jump point, Captain de la Vega slammed a fist on his chair arm as another minefield was revealed.

By the time
Furioso
emerged at Santiago, Captain de la Vega was a worried man. There had been beacons at the jump points to both Santiago and Ilocan, warning off visitors. And all those damned mines! There had been
hundreds
of them. Every trip would be a gauntlet threatening death. Oh, his destroyer had nothing to fear, now that they knew of the threat. But how were they to get supplies to Ilocan? Civilian freighters didn't have military-grade sensor suites. It would be nearly impossible for them to avoid the mines and make it to Ilocan. The damned savages had destroyed all the farms near Homesafe (ridiculous name). Moreover, patrols could only be made in force, with armor. Troops couldn't harvest grain while looking over their shoulders or scanning the ground for lethal traps. Their own siege force was threatened with food shortages!

Admiral Gonzalez-Villareal had even offered the Ilocanos full Santiago citizenship if they would only stop fighting and surrender. Propaganda broadcasts on the captured Worldnet had trumpeted all the benefits of citizenship; the guaranteed annual wage, working or not, the free lifetime health insurance, all the hundreds of programs for which they would be eligible. Amazingly, these savages were too stupid to take advantage of the offer.

Nothing worked. The Ilocanos kept fighting and killing. The weapons used had slowly moved down the technological spectrum as the blockade prevented resupply. Instead of surrender, though, now soldiers were dying from arrow wounds, poisoned blowgun darts, and truly diabolical booby traps. It had been necessary for the Admiral to hold classes for the troops to explain some of these weird weapons. Yet, the troops kept dying.

It was infuriating! They had enough firepower in orbit to turn the planet into a radioactive cinder, and
still
these people would not surrender!

When he reached Santiago, things were not a lot better. Frightened people and jittery officials were everywhere. There were beginning to be shortages of some imported products, and the government was beginning to fear riots in the streets as well as a possible invasion by an enemy who wasn't even supposed to have any space ships!

There were no minesweepers left, but two tugs had been fitted with jump engines, and his first orders were to escort the tugs to the Santiago jump point, and clear the mines. And shut off that
damned
beacon that prevented supplies from reaching Santiago! Captain de la Vega saluted, sighed, and reboarded his ship.

Meanwhile, the problem of the three destroyers – now two – had not escaped the Ilocanos. Their patchwork fleet of privateers was no match for even
one
of the big warships, much less two. All they could do when one of them was nearby was huddle in their base ships with power down to minimum to escape detection.

Thoughts naturally turned to the armed Chata-class Mong was calling
Ilocan's Revenge
.

Cale and Jessica had decided that this time, the privateer idea would not work.
Ilocan's Revenge
was designed for heavy destruction; she wasn't built for the more delicate mission of capturing merchantmen. There would be no prize money for her crew.

"So, what do you suggest?" she asked with a smile.

"I recommend that the government charter her, and assign your own people to run her," he replied. That way, they won't be expecting prize money."

She gave him an indecipherable look. "That must be a fascinating junk yard you have," she said. "What'll you come up with next, a battle cruiser?"

Cale grinned. "Don't need one. We've got
Ilocan's Revenge
."

Mong had thoroughly inspected
Ilocan's Revenge
during the return trip to the mine. All the air leaks had been found and sealed, and his shorthanded crew had spent almost the entire trip cleaning the big ship. He reported, "She's an abortion. Silliest damned thing I've ever seen. She's slower than a
grat
, and about as maneuverable as a planet. And if she doesn't get her target with the first shot, it'll take almost a minute to recharge that . . . that monster. I like her." His smile was predatory.

"Can we get enough crew to run her?" Jessica asked.

Mong shrugged. "We'll have to run the mine on a skeleton crew, but I'll be surprised if more than a couple
don't
volunteer. No crew in space has ever flown anything like her, and I doubt there's an Ilocano here who doesn't want to see that big laser fire!"

Jessica turned to Cale with a weary expression. "Something tells me that the government of Ilocan wants to charter your ship, sire Rankin. What is it going to cost us?"

Cale smiled and bowed. "Madam," he replied formally, "I have what I need. However, to make it a legal charter, how about one hundred Alliance credits for the duration?"

Jessica looked surprised. "And if she's destroyed?"

Cale shrugged. "She was already scrap, madam. We can add that into the charter, if you'd like."

She nodded firmly. "I'd like." She paused, regarded Cale narrowly. "What I'd
really
like is to know why you're going to all this trouble and expense for us. And please, no more crap about Johnny. You've barged in here and given us a way to maybe win a war that had already been lost and broken a stalemate that was almost a year old. You don't seem to worry much about money, and you're very mysterious about this 'scrap yard' of yours. You're a real mystery man. I don't trust mystery men."

Cale felt his face grow warm. "All right, madam," he said, "I'll level with you. I've been a slave. I've been a mercenary (well, he told himself, pirates fight, and kill for money!). I've done some terrible things. Things that interfere with my sleep. I really do know John very well, and we
were
slaves together. He used to tell me stories about his favorite aunt, and the beautiful place she retired to. When I heard about the war, I decided it was my chance to do some good; to make up for some of the evil I've been part of. I've fought for nothing but money. It feels really good to fight for something important; something that matters. As for my scrap yard, I'm secretive about it because it's my bolt hole, if I ever need one."

"Why should you need one?"

He shrugged. "I don't know that I ever will. But as both a slave and a mercenary, I've learned that it's wise to have a place to run to, in case you have to jump out a window in your underwear and leave everything else behind."

She shook her head. "It sounds like a pretty grim existence to me. Maybe Ilocan can fix it so you won't need that bolt hole."

Cale sighed. "It would be nice to feel that there's somewhere I actually
belong
."

The paperwork for the charter went through quickly, and Mong promptly formalized the renaming of the ship
Ilocan's Revenge
. The name made Cale wince. The new name was uncomfortably close to the Terror's
Revenge
. He kept silent, though. They could call it anything they wanted. After the war, she would probably go back to the scrap yard, though Mong had been hinting that Ilocan might want to buy her.

As soon as the minefield at the Santiago jump point had been cleared and
Furioso
and the converted tugs moved to the next jump point, the system's Din-class moved in and her workboats reseeded more mines and another beacon.

There were spirited arguments at the mine over whether
Ilocan's Revenge
should attack
Furioso
. One side felt that destroying the destroyer would reduce the fleet available to Admiral Gonzalez-Villareal. The other side felt that, first,
Ilocan's Revenge
was not a true warship; that in a fight,
Furioso
might just destroy her, and second, that the loss of another destroyer would entice the Admiral to leave a small rear guard, and come hunting with nearly all his force. They felt that
Ilocan's Revenge
would be better used to attack the Santiago system.

It was now dawning on Captain de la Vega that
El Cid
was missing. While the vagaries of jump physics often scattered the arrival times of ships that jumped at the same time, far too much time had elapsed. It had taken more than a week to creep through the minefields at each jump point. His final jump to Santiago's system had taken ten ship-days, and the trip from the jump point to planetary orbit had taken four days. Then the return, the tedious two weeks clearing the first minefield, and the same clearing the path to the second jump point. Certainly, if
El Cid
had survived, they would have encountered each other by now.