The Thirteenth Man (31 page)

And then we'll see who was truly the whore,
he thought.

In phase one, Pelletier cut all communications in and out of Starfall and started the power-­up cycles on the platforms, just as
The Headsman
and the four cruisers from platform twelve began bringing their systems up to full combat status as quickly as possible. They'd split their crew and a half between the four cruisers and were able to man almost all but the weapons stations. As such, the four new cruisers couldn't engage the de Maris warships, but they'd appear on the de Maris screens as fully capable heavy cruisers. If it did turn into a real battle, they had instructions to run. They were also remotely powering up the remaining untested platforms. Like the four cruisers, they were useless in a real fight, but they'd show up on enemy screens as capable weaponry. Their one concern was how long it would take someone on board one of the ten de Maris warships to detect the hot spots appearing in the Lunan system. If it turned into a real battle, they needed ten to fifteen minutes before the shooting started.

Pelletier spoke through Charlie's implants. “Taggart is trying to contact Theode.”

“What's our status?”

“Platforms are at seventy percent. Five more minutes.”

Charlie started for the command center. “Put Taggart through to me.”

Charlie had known Taggart all his life. The man was in his seventies, had probably been born in de Maris livery and was at the height of his capabilities as a senior officer, but he now appeared tense and haggard. “Duke Charles,” he said. “I must speak with Duke Theode.”

Taggart had earned and deserved respect, so Charlie spoke accordingly. “I'm sorry, Admiral Taggart, but Duke Theode is otherwise engaged.”

Charlie could see the strain written in every line of the older man's face. “I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I must insist.”

At that moment Charlie reached the command center and dropped into a seat behind a vacant console. To Taggart he said, “First off, I will remind you I'm a member of the Ten, so I'm not inclined to heed your insistence. Still, we are men of honor, and it's not my intention to play at lord of the castle. Instead, I simply ask your indulgence for one moment. I'm going to transmit a recording of my most recent conversation with Duke Theode. Please pay careful attention.” He nodded at Pelletier, who responded by throwing a switch.

Taggart watched as the scene in the ballroom played out, including Theode's open and undisguised threat. Charlie spoke before Taggart could say anything. “Because Duke Theode threatened my person with murder in my own house, I am within my rights to hold him until I can deliver him to a tribunal of the Ten. And, as a hostile force, I must insist that you withdraw from the Lunan system immediately.” Holding one of the Ten in that way was a stretch legally, but he hoped Taggart didn't know that.

Before Taggart could answer, another man appeared in the transmission with him. He wore a plain tunic without livery, clearly another mercenary. “Listen to me, asshole,” the man said. “You give us back Duke Theode right now, or we bomb the fuck out of you.”

Taggart grimaced and didn't argue. Charlie now understood. Theode had put mercenaries on the bridge of every ship to ensure the loyalty of his officers, and had placed them over the ranking officers.

Taggart said to Charlie, “We're seeing what appear to be large defensive installations coming online.”

Charlie said, “Yes. My house is defended by twelve large orbital weapons platforms, five heavy cruisers, and more than fifty surface batteries.” It couldn't hurt to exaggerate a little. “You're englobed, in orbits that make you extremely vulnerable, with subsystems powered down because your threat assessment told you there is no threat. You're badly outgunned.” Charlie leaned forward and made it clear he was speaking to the mercenary. “So maybe you should reconsider your decision to ‘bomb the fuck' out of us, as you so eloquently put it.”

Charlie gave the fellow a nasty grin. “I'm pretty sure you don't want those to be your last words.”

The mercenary looked uncertain. Taggart said, “We see no evidence of surface batteries.”

Charlie gave Taggart an unfriendly smile. “They wouldn't be all that effective if you could easily identify them, now would they?”

Charlie said to Pelletier, “Phase two.”

They'd split the targeting of the operational surface batteries somewhat evenly among the ten hostile warships, with two targeting each of the vessels. Pelletier issued a command and Charlie watched the mercenary's eyes widen as the big transition batteries fired a shot across the bow of each of the de Maris warships.

Charlie asked, “Do you see evidence of surface batteries now?” He let them have a few seconds to think about that, then said, “I must ask you to withdraw immediately. There'll be no more warning shots. The next order I give will be for a continuous barrage by all stations in the system, no quarter given.”

The mercenary said, “The fucker's bluffing.”

Taggart said to Charlie, “Your Grace, may I have ten minutes to discuss this with my staff?”

Charlie knew the older man had to talk to his other captains, then they had to do something about the mercenaries on their ships. “You have ten minutes, but during that time, if your shields go up, or we detect any increase in power drain on any of your ships, we commence firing.”

“Understood,” Taggart said. He nodded and cut the connection.

Charlie turned to Pelletier and didn't have to ask. Pelletier said, “The eight platforms we repaired are fully operational.”

If Taggart believed that all five heavy cruisers were fully combat capable, and all the platforms were also capable, and there were fifty—­not merely twenty—­surface batteries, he'd be facing overwhelming odds. On the other hand, if he called Charlie's bluff, some of the active platforms in solar orbit were a ­couple of AUs distant and could only be marginally effective against ships close in to Luna, and the cruisers were useless. It would be a nasty fight, their principal advantages being the poor deployment of Taggart's ships, and the fact that the platforms and surface installations boasted weaponry heavy enough to punch through even the largest battleship's shielding. Charlie waited in silence, knowing it would be a toss-­up if Taggart decided to fight.

Taggart called back in seven minutes. There was no sign of the mercenary. “My adjutant informs me, Duke Charles, that, because of the threats Duke Theode made, you are within your rights to bring the matter before the Ten, but actually holding him is a bit of a stretch.”

Charlie shrugged. “Be that as it may, I'm holding him as assurance that you'll leave this system peacefully. And I assure you that he'll be treated well.”

Taggart stared at him for a long moment, and it was then that Charlie knew he'd won. Taggart clearly believed that Charlie's overwhelming firepower left him helpless. He simply said, “As you earlier ordered us, we'll withdraw from the system immediately. We haven't begun powering up yet because you might have viewed that as a hostile action. I ask only that you allow my adjutant to remain behind as your guest and Theode's legal advisor.”

“Granted,” Charlie said, as a sense of relief washed through him. “You may power up your ships one at a time, and one by one withdraw to a rendezvous point of your choosing a minimum of one light-­year from heliopause.”

Taggart closed his eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace. And I must apologize for . . . that fellow's rudeness.” The mercenary was apparently no longer allowed to roam Taggart's bridge at will.

“Apology accepted,” Charlie said. “However, I should mention that because rumors persist regarding Lady Gaida's culpability in Cesare's death, I know she'd want to clear her name, so she's undergoing deep neural probe as we speak. Voluntarily, of course.”

A smile formed slowly on Taggart's face. Charlie continued, “I assure you she's not being harmed in any way, but we should shortly have definitive proof of her innocence—­or otherwise—­and I thought you might wish to personally review the data. If so, you're welcome to remain as my guest.”

As Charlie spoke Taggart's smile grew into a broad grin. “I'd most certainly be interested in reviewing such data, Your Grace.”

It took about an hour, but they soon had a clear, irrefutable picture of the cause of Cesare's death, and they transmitted the data up to Taggart and the other de Maris captains. Taggart had his medical staff review the data carefully, then an hour passed with a lot of encrypted communications between the ten warships, though none powered up any major subsystems. When he and Charlie spoke again the man was livid. “That bitch. I suspected, but had no evidence. It shames me.”

“Admiral,” Charlie said. “I'd say that, since your oath was taken by Theode under false pretenses, your oath is null and void.”

“I'm aware of that, Your Grace. I and my captains and my adjutant have discussed it thoroughly. If Arthur were here we'd swear our fealty to him immediately.”

“I can take you to Arthur,” Charlie said, thinking that if they could get the de Maris forces to join the coalition, they could avoid war altogether.

Taggart started and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“Arthur has been, and is, my guest at a distant space station I own. And I assure you, he's been treated as the heir to the de Maris ducal seat should be.”

Taggart said nothing for several seconds, though his face displayed his changing emotions as he processed that data. To his credit, he asked no questions, but clearly managed to put the pieces together. “This space station, is it Andyne-­Borregga?”

“It is.”

“Your Grace, Nadama and Goutain are marshaling a fleet as we speak, with the intention of destroying that entire installation. It was their idea that Theode should come here, I think to keep you occupied.”

“Oh shit!”

Taggart's voice carried a note of desperation. “We have to go there now. We have to defend him.”

Charlie shook his head. “I'll go there, but I'll not take unsworn men with me.”

“Then I'll swear to you, on the condition that you release me when I can swear to Arthur. And I'll put these ships at your command.”

“Accepted. Let the other captains know.” To Pelletier he said, “Let's go save my brother.”

 

CHAPTER 30

MAYBE TOO LATE

W
ith transition coms limited to about five light-­years, they immediately dispatched fast courier ships to Andyne-­Borregga and to all members of the coalition with news of the impending battle, and the news that Charlie would be bringing a task force of more than ten warships. From what Taggart knew of Nadama and Goutain's plans, they were assuming Theode would completely neutralize Charlie and were in no hurry. So they were taking their time and marshaling their forces carefully. With the distances involved, Charlie was confident that he and most of the independent states could get to the station before the attack force. Telka was bringing in another thirty ships supplied by her alliance of duchies, but that, and the bulk of the Kinathin fleet, wouldn't show up until some time after the action started. That meant that in the initial stages of the battle, based on total number of warships, they'd be evenly matched, but Nadama and Goutain would have a decided advantage in big capital ships and experienced crews. The battle could be lost before coalition reinforcements got there.

They also dispatched one of Taggart's small, fast destroyers back to Traxis. The destroyer's captain would show the rest of the de Maris captains and crews the probe data on Gaida's complicity in Cesare's death, then lead them all to the defense of Andyne-­Borregga. They'd probably be too late, but the truth needed to survive whatever happened there.

Taggart was a little pissed when he learned that, of Charlie's five heavy cruisers, only
The Headsman
was in any condition to fight. Though, when he further learned that the problem was really a lack of experienced crews, he offered to thin his own crews a bit, and add them to those already on Charlie's ships. In that way they were able to crew three of the new cruisers, and all three ships would use the time in transit to Andyne-­Borregga to run simulations and shake down as much as possible. In any case, they'd hold the new cruisers in reserve until absolutely needed.

One day later they up-­transited on a vector to Andyne-­Borregga. Charlie's small force consisted of nine de Maris and five de Lunis warships, including
The Thirteenth Man
, all slightly undermanned.

Charlie could only hope it was enough . . .

T
hraka had been one of Cesare's retainers for years, but he'd always been a practical man, and long ago had found it quite lucrative to sell information to Nadama. And over the years his clandestine relationship with the de Satarna had grown to include the performance of unpleasant little tasks, which resulted in even higher compensation. When he sent a message to Nadama that Delilah was being held on Andyne-­Borregga, Dieter replied with, “Bring the woman to me. Kill whom you must, but bring her to me unharmed.” The bonus he promised would be worth almost any risk.

It had taken two months for him to work his way into her immediate ser­vice. And though they desperately needed experienced spacers, there was enough confusion on Andyne-­Borregga that it was a simple matter for him to hide his own background and avoid shipping out on one of the warships. Interestingly enough, as a former de Maris retainer, he was given a greater degree of trust than many others.

“Your Highness,” he said politely as he bowed deeply from the waist. He placed the tray containing a light luncheon for her and her woman on the table in her luxurious little prison.

“Thank you, Thraka,” she said. “You may go.”

The key to getting her off the space station would be transportation. But there were any number of small tramp vessels making use of Andyne-­Borregga's facilities, and he'd had no trouble hiring one with a crew who would ask no questions. The place was, after all, a free port. The ship he'd hired had a smuggling run to complete, but they'd return sometime in the next tenday, and all would be in place then. He'd have to kill a few ­people, but that was never a problem.

C
harlie had one of the new cruisers down-­transit three days and fifteen light-­years out from Andyne-­Borregga. During Charlie's last visit, Arthur had been in the process of setting up relay buoys at five-­light-­year intervals in a carefully structured globe around the Borreggan system. Each buoy's transition detectors suffered from the same five-­light-­year limit as everything else, but by properly positioning about thirty of them, each could automatically relay scan data and warn the system of incoming ships out to about fifteen light-­years.

The courier ship they'd sent out should have arrived about two days ahead of them. So with the station expecting an assault, fourteen transition wakes driving hard in toward the system, clearly warships all, could easily be mistaken for ships of the Four Tyrants. The cruiser used its transition com to identify them to the station, got a quick briefing on the situation, and uploaded the information to Charlie's small task force. There was a large fleet headed their way from the direction of Turnlee, and the shooting would start in about two days. The cruiser up-­transited and rejoined them.

It was frustrating for them all, three days out and the shooting was going to begin long before they got there. The enemy fleet was too far out for details, so they didn't know if they were coming in with massively overwhelming odds, or something more modest, something Arthur, Darmczek, and Roacka could hold off long enough for Charlie's task force to get there. And once the news spread through the ship, the atmosphere onboard grew subdued and quiet, the pre-­battle introspection with which any experienced combat veteran was all too familiar. Two days in transition with no news, but still one day out from Borreggan nearspace, one of their destroyers down-­transited and began uplinking information just as the battle began.

Nadama and Goutain came in with a force of almost one hundred warships, along with accompanying tenders, escorts, and scouts. Arrayed against them were the first twenty ships Telka's alliance had supplied, about a dozen ships from the independent states that happened to be in the vicinity, and Charlie's ten hunter-­killers, plus the not-­inconsiderable defenses of the station itself, including four orbital weapons platforms positioned for close support of the station. It wasn't enough by a long shot, especially considering that Nadama and Goutain's forces had been working closely together for some time now, while Charlie's coalition had never drilled as a combined force. With the strength of numbers and a much better organized command structure, Nadama and Goutain had good reason to be confident. But they hadn't taken into consideration the hunter-­killers—­still didn't really know of their existence—­their capabilities or the tactics they'd use.

They came in using a classic leapfrog attack formation, their ships split up into four waves about five hours apart. One of their scouts down-­transited about ten light-­years out. With a five-­light-­year limit on detectable transition phenomena, the scout couldn't detect anything inside the Borreggan system, but it could spot and uplink any activity it observed five light-­years out from the system, the traditional point of first engagement. They could only hope that the scout couldn't see, or perhaps just didn't know to look for, the hunter-­killers that Darmczek and Roacka had lying in wait there.

The first wave consisted of fifteen Syndonese medium and light destroyers accompanied by ten medium and heavy cruisers. If all followed the traditional strike scenario, two of the destroyers would be well out in front of the first wave, would down-­transit just out of range of first engagement and start feeding targeting data to the rest of the ships in the wave. With that information, the first wave would down-­transit safely and engage any hostile forces in the vicinity. The destroyers were there for their speed and maneuverability, the cruisers to back them up with heavy firepower if needed. The first wave would clear the vicinity of first engagement and start clearing a swath in toward Borreggan nearspace. With first engagement cleared, and with uplink data from the first wave, the second wave would include heavier ships that should be able to penetrate deeper before down-­transiting. They'd finish the job of clearing the way into the system, and the third and fourth waves, consisting of big cruisers and battleships, would down-­transit inside Borreggan nearspace and start heavy bombardment of the system's defenses.

The two destroyers leading the first wave down-­transited as planned, but to their surprise they detected no activity at the point of first engagement, though they did detect a coalition force of eight cruisers and six destroyers about one light-­year farther in. They uplinked the unconventional positions of the coalition warships, and with first engagement apparently already clear, the commodore of the first wave decided to drive right through first engagement and down-­transit just short of the waiting coalition forces.

It was just beyond first engagement that the silent and unseen hunter-­killers hit them, slamming torpedoes at their transition wakes as fast as they could launch them. In the first seconds of the engagement eight of the attacking ships, including four of the cruisers, took direct hits and blossomed into thermonuclear fireballs. The entire wave down-­transited in a confused mess, right in the midst of the nearly invisible, but deadly, hunter-­killers, who took advantage of the chaos. They had the advantage that once the shooting started, the incandescent flares of nearby warheads masked their already shielded emission signatures. In the next few minutes they completely destroyed six more enemy warships and heavily damaged seven.

As the mauled remnants of the first wave retreated, desperately trying to signal the following three waves that first engagement had been a rout, the line of coalition cruisers one light-­year away up-­transited at maximum drive heading straight for the incoming Syndonese. The hunter-­killers rigged for silent running and disappeared from everyone's screens.

Roacka and Darmczek's plan had been to completely take out the first wave, then have the line of coalition warships move forward and be waiting at first engagement when the second wave came in, expecting the area to be clear. But the remaining ships of the first wave apparently got their signals through, and five hours later the second wave down-­transited early and unscathed, just out of range of first engagement where the coalition warships waited.

To the commodore of the second wave, who was clearly still unaware of the hunter-­killers, it must have appeared that he had the advantage of numbers. But after the mauling the first wave had taken he moved cautiously. There then commenced a running battle between the coalition ships and the combined forces of the second wave and the remnants of the first. It turned into an unconventional free-­for-­all in which most of the lessons of the war colleges were of little use, and each captain had to make up his own tactics on the run. Nadama's and Goutain's ships tried to stall until the third wave could arrive, though the conventional coalition ships found it rather easy to lure them within range of the undetected hunter-­killers, all lying in wait as the battle raged about them.

The coalition lost four ships to conventional isolation and englobement tactics, and Nadama lost three. The hunter-­killers didn't take just any target, but waited until they could target one of the larger ships. In that way, they managed to torpedo eight big enemy warships before one of Nadama's captains caught on and took out one of the hunter-­killers. Then everyone disengaged, and since the hunter-­killers were defenseless, and therefore useless without the element of surprise, Roacka withdrew them completely. It was at that point that Charlie and his twelve warships down-­transited into Borreggan nearspace.

A
fucking war! What incredible luck,
Thraka thought as he nodded at the guard stationed outside Delilah's apartments. The entire station was in a state of absolute chaos. Anyone with any means of getting out-­system was doing so, and many of those who couldn't, and who didn't have a vested interest in the station's defense, had taken to the public corridors, driven by the classic madness of fear and panic. Thraka could get away with almost anything now.

He'd had to seriously up his bribe to the tramp freighter he'd hired. Her captain wanted to pull out immediately, but Dieter had given him the wherewithal to provide an enticing sum to a greedy man who was used to taking chances. The usual arrangement: half now, half when the fellow delivered Delilah safely to Thraka's employer.

The guard took a casual glance beneath the linen towel on the small tray that Thraka carried. It contained refreshments, exactly the kind of thing the princess would request. And besides, Thraka was trusted. The guard hadn't bothered to search him for some days now, so of course he didn't find the plast knife concealed in his tunic. Thraka had no doubt they'd set up detectors on the threshold, so he dared not attempt to conceal any powered weapons. The guard admitted him to Delilah's sitting room, and he found Delilah pacing nervously back and forth, Carristan sitting in a nearby chair.

“Thraka,” Delilah demanded. “What news? Do you know how the battle's going?”

She paid no thought to the fact that he was bringing refreshments she hadn't asked for. He smiled. “They've repelled the first two waves, apparently inflicted serious damage on several enemy warships. And the Duke de Lunis has just down-­transited into the system with a sizable force of warships.”

She stopped pacing, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Oh, thank goodness. But did he bring enough?” She finally noticed the tray he carried and pointed to a small table next to Carristan's seat. “You can put that there.”

As he put it down and lifted the linen towel off the tray, Carristan glanced at it carefully, smiled, and said to Delilah, “Thoughtful of you to order lunch, dear.”

Delilah frowned. “I didn't order anything. I thought you did.”