Scornful Stars Page 24

  He sighed and pushed his turmoil aside. “That’s the next step, Mr. Shah. We think we know who didn’t do it, so let’s see if we can develop some leads about who might be responsible. If Mr. Sekibo is right about someone leaving the station after starting the timer, that’s the place to start looking.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Girard replied. “But small craft of all sorts were coming and going from the station almost constantly, including regular orbiter service to cities down on the surface.”

  “Do what you can, Mr. Girard. In the meantime, let’s share our findings with the Meliyan authorities. Mr. Sekibo, please draft a message for Meritor Pokk Skirriseh that summarizes your discovery, and include the relevant portions of the sensor logs.” Sikander paused, thinking over the implications of Jay Sekibo’s discovery and what it might mean for the Aquilan squadron based at Neda. “I’d better have a word with Captain Broward, too. I have a guess or two about who might be responsible for a covert operation like the one you’ve just pieced together, and I’d sleep better if I knew we were keeping our guard up here on Tawahi.”

  The next day, another of Pleiades Squadron’s destroyers returned home: Giselle Dacey’s Harrier, finishing up her own extended patrol in Zerzuran space. Sikander sent a friendly message welcoming his fellow captain back to base, and invited Dacey and her exec to a barbecue at his home whenever it was convenient for them. He didn’t expect a reply for a few hours, so he went back to the day’s work: answering the Office of Construction and Repair’s queries about the failure of generator two, and trying to get Neda Naval Shipyard to prioritize a very thorough inspection of each and every weld in Decisive’s power plant. But to his surprise, she called him from the squadron headquarters shortly after Harrier landed.

  “Sikander? I’m here with Captain Broward, going over Harrier’s patrol,” Dacey began. “He tells me that you found that ship you chased to Bursa in the Zafer system about twenty days ago.”

  “The Mazuz,” Sikander answered. “She got away while we were dealing with The’eb and Qarash. Did you spot her somewhere else?”

  “I think so,” Dacey said. “Eight days ago, in Tejat Minor. She arrived shortly after we did. We got a good look at her arrival vector, which didn’t line up with any other Zerzuran systems.”

  “That’s interesting. We got a good look at her departure vector when she made transit out of Zafer, and she wasn’t headed for any known port when she left.” Sikander grinned at his empty cabin. One line of bearing provided direction, but not distance. Two lines of bearing from separated locations meant that they might have a fix on where Mazuz had gone after fleeing Zafer. And if that spot wasn’t any known port or outpost, it could very well be something that served as another pirate base.

  Captain Broward joined in the conversation, raising his voice to be picked up on Giselle’s comm unit. “Commander North, why don’t you come on over to my office, and bring that navigational data with you. I’m very curious about where exactly this Mazuz went in those twelve days between Decisive’s action in Zafer and Harrier’s encounter in Tejat Minor.”

  “I am, too, sir,” Sikander said, getting up from behind his desk. “I’m on my way.”

  14

  CSS Decisive, Unknown System

  Decisive cut her warp generator and returned to the rest of the universe with her battle stations fully manned six days and ten hours after departing Neda. Sikander had experienced longer transits, and he’d experienced transits that he knew were likely to carry him into a fight soon after arrival, but he’d never spent the better part of a week hurtling toward a destination that he knew nothing about—and, for that matter, no one else aboard the destroyer had, either. Even at Zafer Decisive’s crew had known they’d find an old mining station … but today, the only thing they knew for certain about the nameless red dwarf where the transit lines established by the pirate ship’s departure and arrival intersected was that no one had recorded a visit to the system since a Terran Caliphate survey ship had looked over the place more than two centuries ago. Finding no valuable resources or useful worlds, the surveyors had moved on to more interesting targets without even bothering to name it.

  Well, we’re here now, thought Sikander. We’ll find what we find.

  “Clear arrival, Captain,” Ensign Carter reported. “Harrier bears zero-nine-five, distance nine million kilometers.”

  “Very well,” Sikander answered. As at Zafer, he’d opted for a longer transit so that Decisive would arrive with a lower velocity and be able to maneuver aggressively that much sooner if need be, and he’d succeeded in persuading Giselle Dacey of the advantages the slower approach offered. “Mr. Girard, depower and retract the warp ring. Let’s take a look around.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Sikander let his operations officer see to the process of securing from the warp transit while he studied the system in which Decisive had just arrived. The sun was a Class M red dwarf—not surprising, since something like seventy-five percent of the stars in the galaxy were of the same type—and its planetary system consisted of three barren rocks in close orbits around their dim parent star, plus a frigid neptunian-type gas giant with a well-developed ring system and a number of moons, orbiting about 2.5 AU out. Nothing in the system seemed remotely appealing for human habitation, although of course dome-and-tunnel stations or space-based habitats could be built almost anywhere someone cared to set one up. So why here? he wondered, staring at the display. Strategic positioning? That could be enough—the red dwarf and its paltry collection of planets happened to be located less than a week’s transit from four of Zerzura’s five major systems. Dozens of other empty systems in the region were similarly convenient to inhabited worlds and busy trade routes, but pirates looking for a secret hideout had to pick one sooner or later, didn’t they?

  “Harrier actual calling, sir,” Ensign Sekibo reported from the communications station.

  “I’ll take it,” Sikander replied. He keyed the unit on his own console. “This is Decisive actual. Go ahead, over.”

  “Decisive, Harrier.” Giselle Dacey’s voice was crisp and professional on the comm circuit. “I propose we split up and search independently. I’ll come to course three-three-zero down twenty, you continue on as you’re going. We’ll cover more ground that way, over.”

  “Harrier, Decisive. I concur and will keep on in this direction for a bit.” Dacey was a little senior to Sikander and therefore in overall command, but when two captains of equal rank operated together, the etiquette of the situation meant that orders tended to be couched as suggestions. She would refrain from giving Sikander direct orders, and in return Sikander intended to follow her lead. He didn’t mind; as it turned out, he trusted Giselle Dacey’s judgment. “We’ll stay in touch. Decisive, out.”

  The two destroyers flipped to point their most powerful drive plates in the direction of their travel, Harrier about sixty degrees off Decisive’s heading, and started braking from their transit-emergence velocities—even with a low-speed transit they’d unbubbled with inherent velocities approaching ten thousand kilometers per second, and if they did find anything in this system they’d need to bleed off a lot of that speed to avoid overshooting any points of interest. Sikander settled into his command station, watching his bridge team beginning the search; their course carried them in the general direction of the system’s solitary gas giant, a few light-minutes ahead of their arrival point. An hour passed, and then two, as Decisive’s quartermasters quietly updated the old charts for the system and the sensor techs studied their instruments for signs of human habitation—radio chatter, thermal signatures, the electromagnetic anomalies created by fusion power plants in operation, radar pings from the dense alloys of a ship’s hull or a station’s structure.

  As the search dragged on without result, Sikander began to wonder whether the unknown system was nothing more than a convenient meeting point, a navigational dogleg where Mazuz had ended its flight from Zafer before maneuvering to line up a transit to its ev
entual destination in Tejat Minor. If you believe an enemy is observing your transit, you might avoid fleeing straight back to your base, he reminded himself. The Aquilan navy’s operational doctrines called for two-leg or even three-leg fleet movements when it was important to conceal information about where a fleet had come from or where it was going. But it was also true that each time a ship charged its warp rings, it expended some difficult-to-replace exotic matter. The Navy maintained its own fueling stations and could afford to keep a ship’s magnetic bottles topped off, but Sikander doubted that outlaws could openly purchase actuating material for their warp rings in the same systems where they hunted their prey. And if he was right about that, then Zerzura’s pirates would want to keep their warp transits to a minimum, even if that meant a greater risk of discovery. Mazuz wouldn’t have wanted to waste a transit just to deny Decisive a look at its transit course … probably. But she might have done it once before when she evaded us between Bursa and Tunis, he realized, and scowled at the empty sensor display.

  He was just about to order his crew to secure from their action stations when the ship’s tactical display suddenly updated with a new contact. “Thermal signature, range six million kilometers,” Michael Girard said. “The gas giant’s ring system, Captain. There’s a station of some sort on the surface of a shepherd moon.”

  “A good hiding spot—plenty of sensor clutter with the rings, and the planet’s throwing out a lot of electromagnetic activity. No wonder it took a while to spot them.” Sikander smiled in satisfaction; his guess about Mazuz’s movements seemed better founded than it had just a few minutes ago. “Please pass our data along to Harrier, and take us in.”

  “Aye, sir. Helm, come left to new course two-nine-seven up five, maximum military acceleration.”

  Decisive’s display rolled gently as the destroyer came to her new course, and Sikander felt the faint tug of her acceleration changing. He keyed his comm channel for the other destroyer. “Harrier, this is Decisive. It looks like there’s an installation of some sort in the ring system of the gas giant. We’re proceeding to investigate, over.”

  “Roger that,” Dacey answered. “You’re a few minutes closer than we are, but we’ll be right behind you. Good luck, Decisive. Harrier out.”

  “We’ve got some better imagery for that station, Captain.” Girard pointed at a screen showing the highly magnified view from one of Decisive’s powerful hull cams. The station appeared to consist of a grounded freighter, surrounded by surface structures and domes—an outlaw fort built around the hulk of a large ship. “The grounded vessel is Jalid Conveyor, a bulk carrier that’s been missing for several years now.”

  “One small mystery solved, I suppose,” Sikander mused. The idea of using a grounded freight carrier as the basis for a surface fort made quite a bit of sense. Its power systems, sensors, and cargo modules must have been useful in setting up a habitat, and he had to imagine that it was difficult for pirates to sell a stolen ship of that size without risking discovery.

  “Target separation, sir,” Ensign Carter announced. “Two ships appear to be getting under way from Jalid’s holds.”

  “They just now spotted us?” Jaime Herrera asked from his position at the weapons console.

  Sikander shook his head. “I doubt it, Guns. They must have seen our terminal cascade when we arrived. They’ve been keeping dark and quiet in the hopes that we wouldn’t spot them. But now that we’ve turned toward them—”

  “They can see that the game’s up,” Herrera finished for him. He studied his display, and grinned fiercely. “They should’ve run when they had the chance, Captain. We’ll be on them before they line up a transit, and this time we brought a friend.”

  “So we did. Mr. Girard, let me have a general channel, if you please.”

  Girard nodded to the comm techs on the bridge. “It’s ready, Captain.”

  Sikander tapped the button. “Attention, all outlaw vessels and stations in this system. This is CSS Decisive of the Aquilan Commonwealth Navy. Surrender and prepare to be boarded. We will fire upon any vessel or station firing upon us or attempting to escape. This is your one and only warning. Decisive, out.”

  “They’re still running, sir,” Carter reported.

  “We’ll give them a minute to think it over. Mr. Girard, what can you tell me about those ships getting under way?”

  “Designating them Target Alpha and Target Bravo, sir. Umm, Target Alpha appears to be a heavily modified salvage tug, definitely armed—I can see several K-cannon mounts—and fitted with improvised armor plating. She’s big for a pirate. Target Bravo is a modified light freighter like we saw at Zafer…” Girard’s voice trailed off for a long moment, and then he straightened up and swore. “I’ll be damned! Captain, that’s Qarash!”

  “That’s impossible,” Amelia Fraser said over the command circuit. “We just handed her over to the Zerzurans! Are you sure about that, Tactical?”

  “I’m certain, XO. I recognize the wear patterns on the bow plating. It’s Qarash.”

  Sikander leaned forward, studying the imagery. He couldn’t believe it either, but Michael Girard didn’t make mistakes like that. Sure enough, the silhouette matched their earlier records, even down to the pattern of bare metal on the bow from particulate impacts during warp transits. “No, it’s not impossible,” he said slowly. “It’s been three weeks since we left her in Bursa. That’s more than enough time for someone to send a crew to retrieve Qarash and bring her here, if the local naval station was instructed to release the ship—or chose to do so on their own.”

  “So Kaptani Hanan simply handed the ship right back to the pirates as soon as we went on our way?” Amelia’s voice took on a tone of disgust. “Good God! I thought the Zerzurans might be quietly passing intelligence to their friends in the pirate fleet. But simply letting them go free? What in the hell is going on around here, Captain?”

  “That’s a question I’d like answered just as much as you would, XO. It certainly seems like compelling evidence for your theory about Zerzuran complicity.” And Elena Pavon’s suspicions, too, Sikander reminded himself. The Pegasus-Pavon director had sent her intelligence about Zafer to him instead of notifying the Zerzuran authorities because she feared the pirates might have their sources in the local security organizations.

  If Amelia felt vindicated, she kept her I-told-you-sos to herself. Sikander glanced down at the inset on his display that showed the faces of the key officers in the command circuit; she’d quickly moved past her anger to cold calculation, her eyes dark beneath a knitted brow. “How high up does this go?” she asked. “Are we dealing with one rotten local commander, the whole Zerzuran fleet, or the pasha himself?”

  “I intend to bring that up with whoever we find aboard Qarash … just as soon as we catch her again.” Sikander returned his attention to the unfolding tactical picture, and called Giselle Dacey. “Harrier, Decisive. I think we’re going to have to split up to intercept the two fleeing ships, over.”

  “Decisive, Harrier. I concur. You take Target Alpha; you’re in a better position to cut her off. We’ll deal with Target Bravo, over.”

  “Harrier, Decisive. We’ll get Alpha, acknowledged. Be advised that Target Bravo is the pirate vessel Qarash—the same one we captured at Zafer, over.”

  Dacey paused a moment before replying. “Understood, Decisive. What the devil is she doing here? Harrier, out.”

  Sikander put Qarash out of his mind for the moment, leaving her to Giselle Dacey while he focused on the first pirate ship. “Mr. Girard, intercept Target Alpha. Cut her legs out from under her, but try not to destroy her outright.”

  “Yes, sir.” Girard quickly examined the course projections. “Should we cut through the planet’s ring, Captain? We’d knock twenty minutes off our time to intercept.”

  “What is the composition of the ring?”

  “Dust and ice crystals, sir. It’s less than ten meters thick.”

  Sikander thought it over for a moment. He wouldn’
t want to try it at something close to a warp transit velocity, but they’d had a couple of hours to decelerate now, and their speed relative to the particles that made up the ring wouldn’t be much more than typical orbital velocities. As long as there weren’t any sizable rocks in their path, they should be fine, and rings tended to be a lot more diffuse than most people thought. “Do it,” he ordered Girard. “But make sure we pass through bow-first.” Decisive’s heaviest armor was on the bow, since ships traveling in warp bubbles encountered tiny specks of dust even in interstellar space.

  “Helm, come right to course zero-zero-eight,” Girard ordered, and then he keyed the general announcement circuit. “All hands, this is the bridge. We’re about to pass through a bit of dust and ice. Prepare for minor bow impact in … ninety seconds.”

  “Sir, we’re being illuminated by fire-control systems,” Ensign Carter announced. “Target Alpha and the Jalid fort are both locked on to us.”

  “Weapons, illuminate the targets that are illuminating us,” Girard said.

  “Illuminating Target Alpha and the Jalid fort,” Herrera replied. “Alpha’s out of effective range, but we can take a shot at the fort.”

  “Very well.” Girard looked over to Sikander. “Captain, what do you—”