Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3) (34 page)

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Authors: Mike Resnick

BOOK: Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3)
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“They don’t have to fly in a perfect formation,” said Cole. “There are going to be a thousand or more of us, and only forty of the enemy. All they really have to do is go where I tell them to go without bumping into each other.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to leave a small force behind, to protect the station if one of Csonti’s ships gets through,” suggested Jacovic.
“It’s hardly likely, given the odds,” replied Cole.
“True,” agreed Jacovic, “but holding twenty ships back out of this vast number won’t make you any less formidable, and they just might discourage—or kill—any enemy ship that approaches Singapore Station.”
“He’s right, you know,” said Forrice.
“Yeah, I know,” admitted Cole. “It sounds like the voice of experience.”
“I’ve been in analogous situations,” answered Jacovic. “No matter how overwhelming your numbers, you must always assume that the occasional Wilson Cole will find a way through them.”
“I’m flattered,” said Cole. “But hopefully Csonti and his lieutenants will take one look at us and suddenly remember they have urgent business elsewhere.”
“If they do, they’ll be back,” said Sharon.
“Why should they bother?” said Cole. “We’re proving right now that we can put together an overwhelming force in a couple of hours’ time. Csonti’s the one who’s mad at us. The rest of them have no reason to want to take on a fleet of a thousand ships, and every reason not to.”
“Maybe they’re more afraid of Csonti than of us,” offered Forrice.
Cole seemed amused. “You think Val is afraid of anyone or anything?”
“No,” admitted the Molarian. “But there are thirty-five or forty other ships, and I’ll bet most of
their
captains live in mortal fear of Csonti. The man is three hundred pounds of solid muscle, and I’ve heard stories about his temper. I think even Val would be overmatched against him.”
Cole was about to answer when he was interrupted by the Duke’s image, which popped into view right next to him. “Captain Cole? Can you please come to my office?”
“On my way,” said Cole, getting to his feet.
“Is there a problem?” asked Forrice.
“Undoubtedly,” said Cole. “But there’s no threat. I gave him a code word to use if there was.”
Then he was crossing the casino, going through the first door, entering the corridor, and finally standing before the Duke’s office. He knew that the retina scan and other security systems wouldn’t pass him, but he also knew the Duke would be waiting for him and would order the door to let him through.
The door irised, and he entered the office. The Platinum Duke sat behind his desk, and sitting on a pair of chairs were an immaculately clad man who appeared to be in late middle age, and a huge Torqual wearing his race’s usual garb of furs and leather. The latter almost had to duck his head to avoid contact with the ceiling, even though he was seated.
“What’s up?” asked Cole as he stepped into the room.
“Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Swenson”—the Man inclined his head—“and Tcharisn.” The Torqual stared at him, unblinking.
“Okay, they’re Swenson and Tcharisn,” said Cole. “Now what?”
“They represent a very select yet unofficial organization, and wish to discuss the current situation with us.”
“Let me take a wild guess and suggest that they represent Singapore Station’s arms dealers,” said Cole.
“That is correct, Captain Cole,” said the Torqual. “We have come to offer our services.”
“Offer or sell?” asked Cole sharply.
“I meant what I said,” replied the Torqual.
“It is in all of our best interests that Singapore Station remain free and intact,” added Swenson. “Our group will arm up to a dozen ships free of charge, and will donate any further stock you need at cost.”
“I’ll tell you what,” countered Cole. “Instead of arming any ships, why don’t you arm Singapore Station itself? My First Officer and my engineer can pinpoint its most vulnerable areas, and based on their considerable experience can suggest whether each area needs offensive or defensive upgrading, or perhaps both. Your services are more valuable there than on a fleet of thousand or more ships that is facing a fleet or forty or less.”
“It makes sense,” said Swenson.
“I agree,” said the Torqual. “That is what we shall do.”
“How many of you are there?” asked Cole curiously.
“Weapon dealers on Singapore Station?” replied Swenson. “There must be at least a hundred.”
“I mean, how many in your group, or cartel, or whatever the hell you choose to call it?”
“There are six of us,” answered Swenson, “but we are the six largest, and are not without some influence with our colleagues.”
“We appreciate your patriotism,” said Cole. “My First Officer is on the premises right now. I’ll send him in here when I leave, and you can get to work on the problem immediately.”
“It’s strange to think of myself as a patriot,” said Swenson, “or the defense of an independent space station in a galactic No-Man’s Land as an act of patriotism.”
“You live here,” responded Cole. “That means Singapore Station is your homeland, and you’re defending it against invaders who want to either destroy it or take it away from you. What would you call that
except
patriotism?”
“I never looked at it that way,” said Swenson.
“Nor did I,” added the Torqual.
“Nor, I would wager, did Charlemagne,” continued Swenson.
“Charlemagne?” repeated Cole.
“I have no idea what his birth name is,” answered Swenson. “He took the name of Charlemagne when he arrived on the Inner Frontier.”
“Is there some reason why I should give a damn about this Charlemagne?” asked Cole.
“He equipped Csonti’s flagship and a number of his other ships,” answered Swenson. “He knows everything about them. And he’s one of us.” A quick smile. “That should come in handy very shortly, should it not?”
“Absolutely!” said the Duke enthusiastically. “Once Charlemagne tells us everything we need to know about Csonti’s ships, he has an unlimited line of credit at the bar for a period of one hundred Standard days.”
Cole summoned Forrice to the office, then left as the Molarian was pinpointing the exact spots that required reinforcements on a holo map the Duke’s computer supplied.
Sharon Blacksmith had taken it upon herself to better organize the registration of volunteers, and things were moving a little more smoothly. Cole checked in with the
Teddy R
to see if there had been any reports of Csonti’s whereabouts; the answer was negative.
“That could be a problem,” he confided to Jacovic when he rejoined the Terroni in the casino. “If we don’t know where Csonti and his fleet are, I can’t take a thousand ships out to meet him. I mean, hell, what if I lead them in one direction and he attacks from another?”
“The only answer is to send out some ships to serve as scouts,” said Jacovic.
“I know. I just don’t like depending on people I don’t know and that I’ve never worked with before.”
“The alternative is to post your entire fleet around the station.”
Cole shook his head. “If we’re massed together when we meet him out in space, we have an enormous advantage. But if we’re massed together around the station, he could wipe out fifty ships before we even know he’s there. Don’t forget—an awful lot of our ships are one-, two-, and three-man jobs, and they weren’t built to withstand military-strength thumpers and burners.”
“Then it’s the scouts,” said Jacovic.
“Then it’s the scouts,” Cole agreed.
“You already have enough to do,” said the Teroni, getting to his feet. “I’ll get a list of our volunteers from Colonel Blacksmith and send some out immediately.”
“Fine,” agreed Cole. “You’ve used scouts before, I’m sure.”
“On occasion.”
“Good. Then you’ll know how to position them.”
The Teroni walked over to Sharon, downloaded a number of names and contact information into his pocket computer, and left the casino in search of his lookouts.
Suddenly a pair of well-armed men approached Cole’s table and sat down on each side of him.
“Hello, Captain Cole,” said one of them.
“Do I know you?”
“You’d like to,” said the other. “We could do you a lot of good.”
“How?”
“We’ve fought a lot of actions just like the one you’re going to fight against Csonti.”
“And you’re for hire?” said Cole.
“We don’t come cheap, but we’re worth it.”
“You know what?” said Cole. “I don’t doubt it for a second. But I’ve got over a thousand volunteers to face a fleet of thirty-five. Why should I pay you?”
“If you don’t, I’ll bet Csonti will,” said the first one meaningfully.
“There’s only two problems with that,” said Cole.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “First, you don’t know where he is. And second, if you join him, it’ll be a thousand to thirty-six or thirty-seven instead of a thousand to thirty-five. Are you in that much of hurry to face those odds?”
The two men glared at him, but they had nothing further to say, and they soon left the table.
Cole decided that if he remained there, every would-be mercenary on the station was eventually going to seek him out, so he got up, made sure Sharon didn’t need any help, and made his way back to the ship.
When he arrived he called Briggs and Christine to the bridge.
“Yes, sir?” said Briggs, reporting a moment before Christine.
“Mr. Briggs, you and Christine Mboya are the two best computer and communications experts I have on board,” began Cole, as Christine joined them.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir,” said Briggs.
“Save the false modesty. You’re the best, and I need your input.”
“Yes, sir?” said Christine.
“You’re aware of the situation,” said Cole. “As soon as we know where Csonti’s fleet is, we’re going out to meet him, so the action will hopefully not take place anywhere near Singapore Station. The problem is, I don’t want a thousand ships trailing in our wake. We haven’t got time to drill them or get them to stay in a precise military formation, but I’d like to split them into groups of seventy-five to a hundred ships. We’ve got four captains already, and I want the rest to be under the direction of members of the
Teddy R
, who in turn will be under
my
direction. Tell Jacovic, Forrice, Domak, Jacillios, Sokolov, and Pampas that they’ll each transfer to a ship that will act as the leader of a particular group.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If they have any questions, have them contact me personally. Also, once we’re moving, I can’t lose touch with them. Does our com system have the capacity to keep in constant touch with these ten group leaders?”
“I think so,” said Christine.
“Yes,” agreed Briggs. “We’ll set up separate coded frequencies for the leaders, and we’ll scramble them so Csonti can’t read them.” He paused, frowning. “Now, what frequencies would work best?”
The two started speaking enthusiastically in technical jargon that made no more sense to Cole than untranslated Molarian, and finally he went off to get something to eat.
Cole supervised preparations for the next day. Then, when he felt he had done everything he could, he went to his cabin, slipped out of his boots, and was asleep in seconds.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept, but he was awakened by Christine’s disembodied voice.
“Sir?”
He grunted and rolled onto his other side.
“Captain Cole?”
“Yeah, what is it?” he said, resigned to having to speak and hence wake up.
“We’ve spotted Csonti’s ships, sir.”
“Great!” said Cole, suddenly awake. “Are all our senior officers on board the ship?”
“No, sir. Colonel Blacksmith, Commander Forrice, and Mr. Odom are still on the station. So are Lieutenant Mueller and Mr. Chadwick.”
“Get them back here within half an hour, and patch me through to Domak.”
The image of the warrior-caste Polonoi appeared in front of him.
“Lieutenant, contact Colonel Blacksmith. She has a list of all those who volunteered to join us in our battle against Csonti. More to the point, she has a list of their ships. Choose the six fastest. These, plus our four smaller ships, will be our group leaders. Lieutenant Mboya has a list of the six officers who will temporarily take over command of those ships.”
“I know, sir,” replied Domak. “I’m one of them.”
“Each group leader will be under my direct command. Nobody breaks formation and nobody fires except on my express order. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”

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