Dreadnought (Starship Blackbeard Book 3) (7 page)

Isabel let out a low whistle. “I mean, that’s good money, but it’s not exactly life changing for someone in my boots. I could upgrade my ship, set a little aside, sure. Doesn’t help if I’m dead, though. Can’t speak for these blokes, but I’m not sure even eight thousand is worth it for me and my crew, not unless you can guarantee that we’ll all survive.”

“I can guarantee no such thing,” Drake said. “There’s an excellent chance
someone
will die. Maybe we’ll lose a whole ship, if we’re unlucky. But here’s what I’ll do. I’ll pay you half in orbit, and half when we go through the last jump point. Then, when we finish the mission, I’ll give you
another
eight.” He looked at Paredes and Dunkley. “Three more for each of you. A bonus. Share it with your crews or keep it for yourself, that’s up to you. And that’s
on top
of any loot we take, which we will divide according to standard practice.”

This time, Tolvern carefully did not look at the captain. He didn’t have the kind of money he was promising, she was sure of that. He’d just pledged over fifty thousand pounds, of which at least twenty was offered on pure swagger. He’d have to sell his father’s estate to get funds like that, and the barony was currently in the hands of Malthorne and his cronies.

A warm breeze blew in from the sea, carrying the smell of brine and decaying seaweed. Below the patio, two dogs started fighting, snarling and barking, until someone at one of the other tables fired his gun over their heads, and they raced off, howling.

“I’m in,” Dunkley said. “For six thousand, you bet I am. Buddies again, Capp?”

Capp grunted. “Sure, I guess. Mates, buddies, whatever. That’s what Cap’n wants, that’s what I’ll do.”

“I’m in, too,” Paredes said. “I’m flat broke, and me and my crew were already planning to go sniffing around where that star leviathan was. Can’t be more dangerous than that. Besides, we saw a Hroom fleet in Hades Gulch on our way out. That’s more than enough trouble for one godforsaken star system.”

A Hroom fleet. That was strange. Hades Gulch was on the edge of the Omega Cluster, which had no known jump points into it. Where would the empire have been sending those ships?

“Well, then, that’s settled,” Isabel said. She waved to the bartender to get his attention. “Hurry up, we’re thirsty! You people eaten yet? The apple pie is pretty good if you need something other than liquid refreshment.”

“Apple pie!” Capp said. “I knew it! You hear that, Tolvern?”

“Does that mean we have a deal?” Drake asked.

“We got a deal, yeah,” Isabel said. “Assuming my sister will have you.”

Oh, she’ll have him, all right,
Tolvern thought gloomily.

“Yes, I believe she will,” Drake said, his measured tone giving away nothing. If Tolvern hadn’t seen him in the shower with Catarina, she’d have suspected nothing.

The bartender set a drink in front of Isabel, and she picked it up and held it out as if in a mock toast. “Then you have yourself a fleet, Captain Drake.”

Chapter Six

There was trouble getting out of orbit. Paredes owed the yards seven hundred pounds that he was unable to cover, and the welders and crane operators took his crew captive and refused to let the schooner out of impound until someone coughed up the money. Drake reluctantly paid out from Paredes’s three thousand—an advance. Good chance that money would vanish, along with Paredes, the first time they went through a jump point.

Then, while half the motley fleet was still planetside, another ship, a pirate frigate by the unlikely name of
Pussycat
, showed up from the outer worlds of the system demanding a piece of the action. The captain of
Pussycat
, a man named Aguilar, warned that he’d alert Albion if he weren’t allowed to join the flotilla. Some on
Blackbeard
, Capp and Barker chief among them, advocated blowing
Pussycat
out of space to serve as a lesson to the rest. But Isabel Vargus said that
Pussycat
and her crew could be reliable, if properly paid.

Drake wanted that ship.
Pussycat
looked like a deformed warthog, her squat profile banged up from numerous fights and her engines undersized. But she bristled with weapons. That would give Drake a cruiser, two frigates, and a pair of schooners, and if Isabel located her sister and
Orient Tiger
, he’d have a third frigate. But he couldn’t make the numbers work to pay them all. 

He was in the war room, drumming his fingers on the table, a message to
Pussycat
half composed, when Tolvern came in. 

“Got another message from Aguilar,” she said. “He has someone in the yards, someone who tipped him off in the first place, and he knows Vargus is fueling
Outlaw
and will be in orbit soon. We’ll be ready to go as soon as
Outlaw
is up, and Aguilar doesn’t want to be left behind. He’s threatening to send a subspace to Albion if we don’t agree to his terms by the time Vargus takes off. That’s twenty minutes.” 

When Drake didn’t answer, she pulled up a chair. “Captain, you have to decide. It’s either knock him out of the sky or hire him on. I know you want that ship, so . . . ”

“Aguilar wants eight thousand,” Drake said. “I don’t have it.”

“You don’t have half of what you promised. So bluff. Agree to his terms and figure it out later.”

“The problem is, I’ve got to hand over the last of my money as soon as we’re in the Albion system. All the money I’ve legitimately got, that is. If we get there, and I pay out twenty-six to the pirates and six to my crew, then I literally have nothing. I can’t pay
another
eight to Aguilar, and when I don’t come up with the money, the rest will see I was bluffing about the final payoff. The bonus. They’ll know.”

Of course, Isabel Vargus and the rest would be mad as hell once they’d risked their lives to run the forts, attack York Town, and rescue Drake’s parents. If they all turned on him, he’d be dead. But he was pretty sure Catarina wouldn’t attack him, and maybe they’d take loot from York Tower, look at the damage they’d suffered in the assault, and count themselves good. Why risk another brawl with
Blackbeard
that would get more of them killed? 

“Is it just Aguilar’s eight thousand holding you back?” Tolvern asked.

“Well, that and the fact that he’s already proven himself a treacherous snake before he’s even joined the fleet. A true pirate.”

“Good, then he fits right in.”

Drake smiled. “Yes, it’s just the eight thousand.”

Tolvern reached below her vest and pulled out a key on a chain. She set it on the table. “This opens my strongbox in the hold. My cut of the tyrillium haul was four thousand one hundred pounds. I’ve spent less than a hundred, and the rest is in the safe. It’s yours.”

“You can’t do that.”

“No, really. What would I do with all of that money? When I think that my father is the chief steward of Baron Drake’s estate and is only paid four hundred and fifty a year, that kind of money seems unreal to me.”

“Piracy pays well,” Drake said. “Until they hang you.”

“Malthorne attacked
my
home, too,” she said. “The Tolverns have been treated well by the Drakes for five generations, and you can bet my father wants Malthorne punished and his old master back on the estate.”

Drake picked up the key and rubbed it thoughtfully. “Thank you, Jess.”

She blushed at the use of her given name, but Drake knew she enjoyed the familiarity, the friendship beyond commanding officer and subordinate. This was friendship she was offering him, not mere loyalty. He’d find a way to pay her back somehow.

  “That’s half of it,” he said. “What about the other four thousand?”

“Ask Vargus. The other sister, I mean. Offer Catarina eight instead of twelve. It’s what her sister is getting.”

“For a weaker ship.
Orient Tiger
is worth more than
Outlaw
and deserves more. And Catarina has more crew to pay. Plus, the Vargus clan doesn’t seem to always get along, if you haven’t noticed. What makes you think she’d agree to it?” 

“Because you’ve worked together already. Catarina knows you and trusts you in a way Isabel doesn’t.”

“All the more reason not to cheat her. Can you imagine me talking her into accepting eight thousand, then cheating her out of the bonus on the other side, as well?”

“James,” she said, using
his
given name this time. “Let’s be frank with each other.” 

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

“I know—about you and Catarina, I mean. Please, you don’t need to deny it. I know, just trust me, I know. You were lovers, and you parted on good terms. You have every reason to expect she would take a lower cut in return for being reunited with you.”

Drake licked his lips. A twinge of guilt worked at his gut. Did the rest of the crew know, too? Did they think him a hypocrite for all the times he’d warned about fraternization or frowned at Capp and Carvalho for being lovers, even as he let himself get involved with Catarina Vargus?

“I feel like I should apologize,” he said.

“We don’t have time for that, Captain. Aguilar is expecting an answer. If you don’t have one, we need to warn the gunnery there will be a fight.”

Her words weren’t condemning, but there was no hiding the frown in her voice, with more than a hint of disapproval. Of course, Tolvern would never let herself be put in such a compromising position.

“We don’t even know if Isabel will be able to reach her sister. And if she does, then Catarina might decline the offer anyway. If she’d wanted to stay with me, she could have followed us into Hroom space. Maybe she’ll say no this time, too.”

“In that case, problem solved. You give her share to Aguilar, and I keep my four thousand pounds.”

“Very well. We’ll hire this villain and his crew of pirates. Offer him eight thousand, plus the so-called bonus on the other end.”

Tolvern touched her ear. “Jane, open a channel to
Pussycat
.” She glanced back at Drake with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going to get really tired of saying ‘pussycat’ before we’re done. Is this Aguilar? This is Commander Jess Tolvern, of
Starship Blackbeard
. Captain Drake would like to hire your services, subject to the following non-negotiable conditions.” 

#

Drake was not surprised that Isabel Vargus made contact with her sister in short order once money was on the line. Catarina and the crew of
Orient Tiger
were on their way to Hades Gulch. Catarina had apparently got wind of the star leviathan attack, and, like her sister, had decided to pick over the carcass of the salvage operation. Drake agreed to take his fleet and rendezvous with
Orient Tiger
there. 

It took eight days of travel to reach the system, and another two to reach the small, cold planetoid and its moon where
Orient Tiger
was hard at work scooping up the leviathan’s leftovers. Drake was wary of the deep-space monster, but they scanned carefully and didn’t spot it. It must have wandered off. 

Isabel’s ship,
Outlaw,
pulled ahead of the others as they slowed for the rendezvous, and arrived first, flashing past
Orient Tiger
in a way that seemed to irritate the younger sister. Catarina showed her guns and torpedo bays, and for a moment, it looked like the Vargus sisters would mix it up. Drake sent urgent messages, but they ignored him. It was only when he retracted his own shields to expose his main cannons that they stopped feinting and threatening each other. 

Drake was in the captain’s chair when he got Catarina on the viewscreen. He’d been irritated by the bickering between the two sisters, but that vanished when he saw her smiling back at him. She was as beautiful as ever, and played with the ruby pendant resting on the swell of her breasts.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“That business with my sister? You know, sibling love. She is the older one, always wants to lord it over me. Rather a shame that I have the bigger ship, isn’t it?”

There was something else in their history, he thought, hearing Catarina speak. She sounded refined, like a lady of Albion, whereas Isabel spoke with a rougher, flatter accent. Not lower class, like Capp or some of the others in Drake’s crew, but it wasn’t the sort of accent one developed in finishing school, either. He wondered if their father hadn’t favored his younger daughter, sent her to Albion to make something respectable out of her, but hadn’t given Isabel the same opportunity. Then there was the injury and artificial eye that marred the older sister’s appearance. What was the story of that?

“So,” Catarina said, “I got your message. Can you talk openly, or do you need a private channel?”

Drake glanced at the rest of the crew on board. Capp and Tolvern were off shift, and Manx was in the science facility with Brockett, which left Smythe at the tech console and Nyb Pim in the pilot’s chair. Smythe was a tech geek and semi-oblivious when it came to human interaction, and Nyb Pim was a Hroom.

“I can talk here. What is it?”

“Money,” Catarina said. “Do you have it?”

“I have the eight I promised you.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m not too happy about that. My ship completely outclasses my sister’s—you saw how easily I flanked her just now.”

“I was ignoring all of the posturing, to be honest.”

“And I’m twice as reliable and steady in battle. But that is not what I am talking about. I know what you took from the tyrillium haul. Even figuring you’ve held onto it since we last met, that’s going to leave you short.”

Drake thought about bluffing her, too, and claiming that the Hroom had paid him off for the sugar antidote. Instead, he shrugged.

Catarina peered back through the viewscreen. “You must have a very different relationship with your parents than I had with mine, if you’re willing to beggar yourself and risk the wrath of Isabel and the rest to save them.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“For eight thousand, no. I can get an easy two thousand on this salvage job before the competition shows up, and nobody will be shooting at me.”