Queen of the Pirates (38 page)

Instead, two or three might all line up on the same poor bastard and shatter him.

And they did.

Regular missiles might have had more physical impact on the enemy formation. This was like hitting a piece of glass with a BB gun. One little star in the center that spider–webbed outwards.

Jouster
could watch the psychological impact of the Archerfish as that hole opened in the enemy force like a tear, or a whirlpool. The survivors closest flinched away, chased or killed by the little Shot sub–missiles hunting them in the aftermath.

For a long moment,
Jouster
considered blasting the combined wing straight through the gap at max speed and going after the carriers. He had the firepower behind him to take on those three escort corvettes. But his orders had been clear: dog–fight the skies clear and keep enemy craft off the big hitters. Let
Rajput
have the kills. And
Brightoak
. If he was feeling generous.

Command Centurion d’Maine would certainly wield that hammer ruthlessly enough.

“
Auberon
and
Monarch
elements,” he said calmly, even as the adrenaline hit a new high in his brain, “go to melee now. All units, break into teams and start hunting. Good luck.”

He glanced over to make sure his wingmates,
Uller
and
Vienna,
were handy, and stood his fighter on an ear.

Time to go kill things.

Ξ

“Helm,” Denis heard Tamara Strnad call as he watched the scene unfold on his own little projector, “hard left. Three–four–five, down fifteen, roll three–fifty. Now, damn it. Signals, bring the escorts down with us. Defense, prepare to engage left to right. Guns, stay on support for targets of opportunity.”

He had one of the best tactical officers he had ever known. Tamara was simply an artist when they got into this kind of a situation, almost psychic in her ability to predict an enemy.

They needed it right now.

Rajput
was, as they used to say back home, all guns and no butter.

She could stand toe–to–toe with a cruiser in single combat for a little while, but could still be mugged by a pair of six–year–olds in a park.

And she was about to be.

Denis watched a group of mismatched fighter craft and a team of Imperials come at the Heavy Destroyer from a low corner. They were moving laterally, too fast for the big guns to track for a kill shot.

That’s what he was for. Sure,
Winnipeg
and
Admiral Matsushita
were better equipped, and even trained to a reasonable level, but they were county militia.

Auberon
was the warrior.

“Defense,” Tamara’s calm voice continued, “prepare and launch Moirrey’s first ace in the hole.”

Denis always forgot about that nasty little surprise. Moirrey and Nina Vanek had removed the observatory telescope and mounted a missile launcher with a pair of Shot missiles in its place.

One of them leapt into the fray now, one dot on the sensor turning into four and racing downrange.

Denis watched one of the uglies get spiked like a butterfly. The first Imperial fighter took enough of a hit that his shields evaporated, sending him and his wing–mate racing off for cover.

Auberon
’s Type–1’s and Type–2’s went to work.

Ξ

“Vishnu,” the man said in awe.

Jessica glanced over at the look of slack shock on Bedrov’s face and had to agree. The Imperials had finally gotten their act together.

The six heavy strike–fighters on the Imperial side had stayed well back up until now, satisfied to hide under the cover of the escorts.

They had just launched a wall of missiles. And absolute wall. Something like
Jouster
had done to them, earlier.

Jessica turned to the man handling the guns.
Kali–ma
didn’t have a tactical officer. The pirates followed the Imperial model of expecting a captain to fight her own ship.

That was so inefficient as to be stupid. She was too busy flying this bitch to shoot at the same time. Instead, she had promoted the man who was second officer to tactical and let him loose.

It has been a good choice, so far.

“Tactical,” she said sharply, waiting for him to register and look at her. “Stop engaging fighters and put every gun on those missiles. Immediately.”

She looked over at her flag centurion. Enej nodded and continued talking into his microphone, having anticipated the command.

“Captain?” the tactical officer asked.

“The fighters might be painful.” she pointed at the screen. “That is death. If we don’t stop them, we get the same messy demise
Siberia
did. Move.”

He nodded with understanding and went to work.

They just might survive.

Ξ

“Sensors,” Tomas Kigali asked, “any of those targeted at us?”

The screen looked like an avalanching mass of army ants, or killer bees. Certainly likely to ruin someone’s day.

“Negative,” the woman called back.

Someone else’s day.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the gun deck,” Kigali called into the comm with a lazy drawl. “About time you earned your keep.”

He grinned at the navigation crew in close range. The gunners were down a level. He could see their faces on one edge of his screen.

“Engines to flank. Someone tell
Brightoak
to drop back and let us handle this,” he smiled. “Helm to three–five–five, up twelve, begin a slow corkscrew spin left to bring every gun to arc sequentially.”

The sky was going to look like a Founding Day fireworks celebration in a bit. If he had either of the other two escorts, this would be a cakewalk. But
Rajput
needed the cover. Here, he at least had
Sky Dancer
sitting out on an aft wing taking potshots. David Rodriguez and his crew were pretty good.

On the screen, the wall of missiles began to diverge into two separate elements. Kigali checked the projections and cursed under his breath.

“
Kali–ma
,” he said into the secured comm. “You are the primary target of half that group. Go defensive immediately.”

He could keep enough of them off of
Brightoak
to keep her going, but the other half was going to pass too far on his starboard flank to engage, even if he abandoned
Brightoak
right now.

Good luck, boss.

Ξ

“Helm,” Jessica called. “Hard right turn, right now. Redline the engines once we come about and spin two–seventy to keep the guns bearing.”

The pilot looked at her with huge eyes and kept typing furiously on his console.

Jessica felt the grav–plates blur with the stress as every available erg of energy went into the engines and gyros.

Auberon
could never have made this turn, but
Kali–ma
was the Goddess of War. She understood.

“Guns, forget safe firing rates,” she continued. “Override the interlocks and burn out the barrels and generators if you have to. The next twenty seconds are life or death, people.”

“Right, Captain,” someone called.
Kali–ma
began to spray fire sideways and aft.

It was like something from the Vedas back there, as if
She
walked the field of battle again.

“
Supernova
,” the flag centurion yelled, accidentally leaning back from his microphone. “Shear off. You are blocking our field of fire.”

Jessica watched the icon that was
Supernova
cross
Kali–ma
’s stern, making a similar turn, but wider and slower.

Only Enej heard the response, but he uttered a word that would have normally made him blush. Here, he slammed a fist into the counter hard enough to make hardened pirates next to him flinch.

Kali–ma
came out of her turn and raced away, a warhorse turned thoroughbred smelling the home stretch.

Jessica’s heart stopped as she realized what was happening behind them.

The Imperial missiles were set to go after
Kali–ma
, but that was by size, not an active sensor signal. They were passively watching the sky in front of them as they closed.

And
Supernova
looked just like
Kali–ma
when the two signals blurred together.

Jessica understood why Enej had probably just broken his hand on the desk.

Those missiles had stopped following Jessica, because they had another target. A closer target.

“Engines, all stop now. Shut it down. Guns continue to engage.”

Sky Dancer
,
Supernova
, and
Kali–ma
poured their fire into the valley of death.

It was almost enough.

Two missiles got through.

One went off with a glancing blow, catching a corner of
Supernova’s
shields and shredding them. The other went home into her engine well like a saber to the heart.

Jessica’s heart.

Supernova
went up like her namesake, a shockwave vaporizing her aft section and continuing forward until the bow shattered to pieces.

No one survived that fire.

For a moment, the entire bridge was silent.

In a corner, someone muttered the Mariner’s Prayer for Lost Souls.

Jessica went cold. Completely numb.

It lasted for a second before the fire lit, deep in her chest.

It was as though the Goddess Of War whispered death in her ear.

She looked at the screen. The Imperial fighters out there had been more than decimated. Slaughtered, perhaps.

Annihilated.

The two–to–one Imperial ratio at the beginning had reversed in her favor. One of the
Lincolnshire
escorts had been mauled, but still held her station.
Auberon
looked a little rough.
Sky Dancer
had a gimpy leg.

The Imperial side was beginning a turn that would take them to the edge of the gravity well and safety. They had shot their bolt and failed. Now, they would escape.

The rage caught fire in Jessica’s chest, flowing hot and mad to her fingertips. She took hold of the microphone and locked her eyes on the projection icon for
Wei Chi
.

“Squadron, this is the Flag,” she said. “Raise the red flag.”

“Please confirm, Admiral,”
Furious
replied nervously.

“No quarter,
Furious
,” Jessica said flatly.

She could taste copper.

They would taste death.

“Flag, this is
Auberon
,” Denis said. “Negative on that last command.
Aquitaine
will not carry out that order.”

She wanted to hit someone, something. She wanted to destroy everything, burn it down, sacrifice it in Daneel’s name.
Abandon hope, all ye who enter.
That would be an acceptable memorial.

If
Aquitaine
would not help her vengeance, she was still Queen of the Pirates.

“
Furious
?” she said.

“Acknowledged, Your Majesty,” the only female fighter pilot left said calmly. “
Queen’s Own
, prepare to unleash hell.”

The sound on the comm could have been mistaken for an earthquake, a dull rumbling slowly building in intensity. It was only after a second that she recognized the sound.

Forty hard men, growling with their own anger.

The
Fribourg Empire
was not welcome here.
Wei Chi
had signed her own death warrant by bringing them. These men, and woman, were about to make that point in the most destructive manner possible.

Brightoak
and
CR–264
turned away as
Kali–ma
and
Sky Dancer
came out of their turns and began to charge. Interestingly, the one undamaged
Lincolnshire
escort,
Winnipeg,
accelerated to come to her side and engage as well. They had just as much dislike of the
Fribourg Empire
, and were making it known.

Enej waved a hand to get her attention. She had been a thousand kilometers away.

“The Escort Carrier,
Admiral Schmitz
, and the two Carrier Tugs are asking for surrender terms, Commander,” he said forcefully.

“Immolation,” she said simply.

She went back to where she had been.

“Jessica,” a voice intruded on a private channel.

That was her name. Or had been. Before.

Now she was simply
Kali–ma
. Goddess of War.

Avatar of Destruction.

“Jessica, this is Desianna,” the intrusion continued. “Please respond to me, Jessica.”

Desianna. Arnulf’s widow.

Her friend.

“This is Keller,” Jessica finally growled into the microphone.

“Jessica, don’t do this. Please. I’m asking you to let them surrender. There is a better way.”

“They killed
Warlock
,” Jessica raged.

“I know that,” Desianna said soothingly. “But this shouldn’t be your legacy.”

“They killed Daneel,” she repeated, shock and sorrow finally creeping into the rage, tinging the red to a more maroon hue.

“And they killed Arnulf. Jessica, you aren’t the only one to lose someone you loved today.” She paused for a breath. “You have already made many more than enough widows, Jessica. You need to stop the battle. This isn’t how we’re going to change
Corynthe
. There is a better way.”

“How?”

“Your wrath has broken them, Jessica Keller, Queen of the Pirates,” Desianna poured cool water into the hollow fire of her soul. “We can mold the survivors. Please, Jessica, let it go.”

In her mind, she could still see the flash of fire as
Supernova
came apart, Daneel sacrificing himself to protect her.

She had lost him, the only man to ever touch her, ever hold her.

And he was gone.

Was it enough?

The Goddess of War nodded.

Epilogue: Petron