A Call to Vengeance

Clegg again gestured to the com, and the mute indicator disappeared. “Captain Kane, my Tactical Officer and I would be honored to accept your invitation,” she said. “It looks like you were just passing through. Do you want to come here to orbit, or shall we come out to meet you?”

  “Perhaps we can compromise,” Kane suggested. “I’m sending you my deceleration profile. Are you available to come out and meet us? If not, we can adjust our schedule to meet you in orbit.”

  “Accommodating type,” Woodburn said under his breath.

  “I’d hate to make you go to that much trouble,” Clegg said. “We should be able to meet you halfway. I’ll turn you over to my Exec to coordinate the most convenient zero-zero.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Kane said, and there was no mistaking the delight in his tone. “I will look forward to our meeting. And to our meal, whichever meal it turns out to be. Do you have any preference as to the cuisine?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  For most of Casey’s approach, Hamman looked more or less like a perfectly normal freighter. It was only as they settled into a zero-zero within convenient shuttle range that the differences became apparent.

  “Still has the standard rotational hab ring, I see,” Clegg commented, hovering over Travis’s shoulder. “What kind of armament are we talking about?”

  “I’m seeing two launchers,” Woodburn said, “plus the associated targeting sensors. Looks like multiple autocannon installations, too.”

  “When Gustav arms his freighters, he doesn’t fool around,” Clegg murmured. “Twin launchers?”

  “Singles,” Woodburn said. “They look similar to the old Mark Two we carry on the Salamanders.”

  “High-end military grade, in other words,” Clegg said thoughtfully. “I definitely want to see the inside of this thing. Speaking of which, I suppose we should get started.”

  Pushing off one of Travis’s handholds, she floated to the command station behind him. Woodburn remained where he was, in a spot where he could keep an eye on the helm and com stations, while still getting a good view of Travis’s tactical displays. Travis glanced over his shoulder and saw Clegg make a final adjustment to her uniform collar and then gesture to the com rating. The other tapped a few keys, and Kane’s face appeared on the display.

  “Good evening, Captain Kane,” Clegg greeted him. “We’re ready to come aboard. Are there any special instructions or protocols we need to follow?”

  “You mean are there any anti-intruder traps or docking codes?” Kane asked, looking amused. “No, nothing like that. Come aboard at your convenience.”

  “Thank you.” Clegg gestured the image away. “Time to go, Long. You ready?”

  Travis took a careful breath. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Good. Let’s do this.”

  Clegg had had Woodburn settle Casey in at a fair distance from the Andermani, and between the undocking procedure, the shuttle trip itself, and the redocking the whole thing took nearly half an hour. Clegg didn’t speak during that entire time, except to give the coxswain occasional directions. Whether she was deliberately ignoring Travis, or was deep in thoughts of her own, he couldn’t tell. For his part, he alternated his attention between the navigational sensor displays and the view out the viewport and kept his mouth shut.

  As Travis had expected, Kane was waiting for them just inside the airlock hatch.

  “Welcome, Captain Clegg,” he said, smiling expansively. “It is indeed an honor to have you aboard my humble freighter. I do wish you’d allow me to offer you more than a light breakfast.”

  “Light breakfast will be fine, Captain,” Clegg assured him. “An interesting ship you have here.”

  “I know, I know, it’s not exactly the norm for cargo transport vessels,” Kane said ruefully. “But the Empire has enemies, and the Emperor believes in being prepared for all eventualities.” He raised his eyebrows a bit. “As, clearly, does the Star Kingdom of Manticore. My congratulations on your fine leadership and tactics during the recent battle.”

  “Thank you,” Clegg said again. “But I fear you may be laboring under a misconception. I wasn’t Casey’s commander during that action. That was Commodore Rudolph Heissman, who’s since been transferred to a new post.”

  “Oh?” Kane sounded surprised. “My apologies for the error. I had assumed the winning team—but of course he would have been promoted after such a success. Congratulations on inheriting his ship.”

  “Thank you,” Clegg said yet again. “Allow me to introduce my tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Travis Long. He was part of the team that took out Tamerlane’s battlecruiser.”

  “Indeed,” Kane said, eyeing Travis closely even as he inclined his head in greeting. “At any rate, Captain, breakfast is ready. If you’ll follow me, please?”

  The trip from the shuttle to the breakfast table was an interesting one. The spin section seemed bigger than that of most merchant ships, Travis noted as they walked, though it was only sparsely occupied. Perhaps there were passenger sections Kane wasn’t taking them through, or maybe there were special holds for cargo that did best in gravity. Travis had read about planets that specialized in shipping exotic pets across the galaxy, though he suspected a lot of planetary authorities frowned on letting in non-local fauna.

  And of course, there would be extra crew necessary to handle all the weaponry bristling from the freighter’s hull.

  “I’m a little surprised that your armament is so transparent,” Clegg commented as they walked.

  “Hardly a mystery,” Kane said. “Emperor Gustav’s philosophy is that a man-of-war should not conceal his identity or his capabilities, either from enemies or potential friends.”

  “Certainly makes things easier,” Clegg agreed, looking sideways at Travis. “I wonder which category the Star Kingdom is in.”

  “The Emperor doesn’t share his foreign policies with the Merchant Marine,” Kane said dryly. “Or with such humble military reservists as myself.”

  “You were in the military, then?” Clegg asked.

  “Many aboard are such,” Kane said. “The merchant fleet is in many ways the armed auxiliaries of the Imperial Andermani Navy, though I prefer to avoid uniforms and military formality for our day-to-day activities. Still, to address your comment, simple logic suggests that Manticore is neither friend nor foe to the Empire. Emperor Gustav never sought conquests in the first place, but merely defended his people against outside aggression.”

  He gave Clegg a wry smile. “And no offense, Captain, but I also suspect the Star Kingdom is too small and much too far way to intrude upon the Emperor’s attention.”

  “But I assume the Emperor also recognizes that there are times when intelligence must be gathered in a covert manner?” Clegg suggested.

  Kane frowned.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Normal freighters run pretty tight schedules,” Clegg said. “Yet you were willing to pause for several hours while we made rendezvous with you.”

  “Very astute, Captain,” Kane said, inclining his head to her. “May I suggest in turn that the possibility of an intelligence mission would not likely be the first guess of a naval officer…unless such missions were uppermost in her mind because she herself was on one?” He raised his eyebrows.

  Travis felt his stomach tighten. But Clegg just waved a casual hand. “I’m sure you understand that I can’t talk about Casey’s mission or orders.”

  “Of course not,” Kane said. “But perhaps we can talk in hypotheticals.”

  They reached a hatch and Kane tapped the release. It slid open, and he gestured his guests inside.

  The compartment turned out to be a small wardroom, complete with a serving area, coffee and tea urns, and several tables and chairs set out in a neat row. One of the tables had place settings laid out at each of the seats, and there was a platter of pastries in the center.

  “I’m sorry I can’t offer you more companionship,” Kane said as he gestured toward the table. “But as you suggeste
d, downtime is a freighter’s bane. We’re thus taking the opportunity to do some badly needed maintenance, which is occupying the rest of my crew.” He gestured to the urns. “I assumed you both would enjoy tea, but we also have coffee if you’d prefer.”

  “Tea is fine, thank you,” Clegg said. She sat down in the chair and his right and nodded to Travis to take the one to his left. “You said something about hypotheticals?”

  “We’ll get to that in a moment,” Kane said, stepping to one of the urns and drawing a cup of tea. “But first, I would very much like to hear about your battle.”

  Clegg gestured to Travis.

  “Go ahead, Commander.”

  Travis knew very little about the battle aside from Casey’s own role and the official accounts that had been released to the public. Still, even with those limitations it took him two cups of tea and one and a half pastries to get through it.

  Kane, his eyes firmly fixed on Travis the whole time, barely even touched his tea.

  “Interesting,” he murmured when Travis finally finished. “Particularly the tactics.”

  “We were just in the right position at the right time,” Travis said, feeling his cheeks warming. Even the simple Andermani freighter captain appreciated his contributions more than the Royal Manticoran Navy did.

  “What?” Kane said, frowning briefly. “Oh, I see. No, I wasn’t talking about your tactics, Commander, clever though they were. I was referring to Tamerlane’s.”

  “You know him?” Clegg asked, her voice carefully neutral.

  “Not by that name, no,” Kane said. “The Star Kingdom’s official statements on the battle were quite limited, and there was only so much I could glean from them. But I found this so-named Tamerlane’s chosen ruse to draw you into his range interesting. In fact, now that I’ve heard about it, I feel more certain than ever of his true identity.”

  “May I ask which side of Tamerlane’s signature style you were on?” Clegg asked pointedly.

  Kane smiled again.

  “You mean is he a friend or a foe? At various times, both. Right now, he’s very much a foe of the Empire.”

  “I thought the Emperor didn’t share his policies with you,” Clegg reminded him.

  “Warfare is my hobby,” Kane reminded her right back again.

  “Right—I forgot,” Clegg said. “So who is Tamerlane, anyway?”

  Kane puckered his lips.

  “I think he’s a man named Cutler van Tischendorf, who now goes by the name Cutler Gensonne,” he said. “I cannot yet confirm it, but I think the indications are strong.”

  “And you think he’s in Silesia?” Clegg persisted.

  “We have certain evidence pointing to the Confederacy.” Kane gestured to her. “I imagine you, too, have some evidence of your own? Hypothetically speaking of course.”

  “I’m afraid you have things a bit confused, Commodore,” Clegg said. “We’re not here to hunt down our invaders. We’re here to try to drum up ship orders.”

  “To drum up what?”

  “It doesn’t make much sense to me, either,” Clegg conceded. “But there are influential voices on Manticore who think we should be manufacturing our own impellers. The only way to make that even marginally affordable is to build a lot more ships than we ourselves have any use for. Hence, this trip.”

  “A sales journey?” Kane said, clearly still not believing it. “Undertaken by your most advanced warship?”

  “That’s exactly why Casey was chosen,” Clegg said. “She’s the best showcase we’ve got for our shipbuilding skills.”

  “Ah.” Kane’s eyes flicked back and forth between his guests. The earlier brief confusion was gone, and he had the look of a man who was again reading between the lines. “But of course, if you should happen on information concerning Tamerlane, you’d be sure to take notice of it? I’m sure the Empire would pay handsomely for such information.”

  “I wish we could help you,” Clegg said. “But Casey’s mission is simply to find interested customers. I’m sorry.”

  “As am I.” Kane gave a philosophical shrug. “Well. At least I was able to hear a firsthand account of the battle. Allow me to escort you to your shuttle, and we can go our separate ways.”

  “Thank you again for your hospitality, Captain,” Clegg said, standing up. “Perhaps we can return your generosity in the future.” She gestured to Travis. “Commander?”

  And, to his surprise and dismay, Travis realized that he was at a crossroads.

  Clegg was his commanding officer. The oath he’d taken when he joined the Navy required him to obey her lawful orders, and she was now ordering him to leave with her.

  But he worked for Lady Calvingdell, too, and she’d ordered him to do everything possible to find Tamerlane.

  Kane had information that could be crucial in that search. He might be willing to give up that data for the right price. But if they left now…

  “Commander?” Clegg repeated, and this time there was an edge to her voice.

  Calvingdell wasn’t here, she wasn’t in the RMN chain of command, and her orders had been general and nebulous. Clegg was right here, she was in the chain of command, and her implied order was as clear as hard vacuum.

  Regulations said that a CO’s direct order was always to be obeyed. Always. There might be times when two lawful orders conflicted with one another, and the Navy had a rule for that, too. In that instance, the most recently-given lawful order was to be obeyed.

  And Clegg had just given him the most recently-given lawful order he was likely to get.

  Regulations were why Travis had joined the Navy in the first place. The network of structure and order that those regulations created had been vitally important to him in his late teens and early twenties. He couldn’t just set them aside, not even for a higher purpose.

  But he had to. Manticore had been attacked. Many good men and women had died, and the entire Star Kingdom had been threatened. That was why he and Chomps had been inserted into Casey’s crew in the first place. It was why he was here, and he had the chance to avenge that attack, perhaps even make sure it never happened again.

  And he was the only one who was here. The only one who could do that.

  Which left him no choice. No choice at all.

  “What about a trade?” he asked, not moving from his chair.

  Both of them looked at him, Kane with mild surprise, Clegg with disbelief.

  “Excuse me?” Kane asked.

  “You said you’d pay for information about Tamerlane,” Travis said, his heart pounding. The rapidly growing incredulity and anger in Clegg’s face was a blazing fire that he could feel burning into his heart and mind.

  This was not the way he liked to do things. This was not the order and discipline he found comfortable.

  But he’d made his decision. There was nothing to do now but continue.

  “Instead of payment,” he said, “how about a trade?”

  “You said your mission was to solicit ship sales.”

  “Casey’s mission is,” Travis said. “My mission is to track down Tamerlane.”

  Kane’s eyes flicked to Clegg, back to Travis.

  “You’re Naval Intelligence, then?”

  “I have multiple duties,” Travis said, hoping that would be interpreted as an affirmative. There was absolutely no way he could justify telling a foreigner about Delphi.

  “And when you find him? What are your plans then?”

  Travis looked at Clegg. She had the air of a very angry predator about her.

  “We find out why we were invaded,” Travis said, looking back at Kane. “We hopefully also find out whether he was working on his own or was hired by someone else.”

  “Your turn, Captain,” Clegg said, her voice under rigid control. Still furious, probably, but aware that her choices were to back Travis’s play or sink it and choosing the former. For the moment, at least. “You know more about this than you pretend. Who are you?”

  Kane shrugged.

&nbs
p; “Cards on the table, then. Very well. I’m part of a mission to bring Gensonne and his activities to an end. That’s all you need to know.” He smiled slightly at Travis. “It’s probably more than I—more than either of us—should have said.”

  “Fortunately, as we agreed earlier, this is all hypothetical,” Clegg said. “So who exactly is Gensonne.”

  “Cutler Gensonne was one of the Emperor’s chief captains,” Kane said, sitting down again and gesturing for Clegg to do likewise. “He was rising nicely through the ranks when…well, let’s just say he fell from the Emperor’s favor. He left the Empire and disappeared.

  “Then, a few years ago, we began to hear rumors that he’d resurfaced, working with or possibly commanding one of the less-than-reputable mercenary groups.”

  “Sounds like Tamerlane’s group, all right,” Travis murmured.

  “It could be,” Kane agreed. “We’ve been tracking mercenary movements and operations as best we could, focusing especially on post-battle repair and replacement purchases and looking for unidentified credit lines and payment deposits. Andermani ships have standing orders to make informal surveys of any system we enter, paying special attention to ships running questionable or suspicious IDs or seem out of place.” He smiled thinly. “A Manticoran warship in Silesia, for example.”

  “May I ask how long you’ve been hunting him?” Travis asked.

  “Actively, not until quite recently, I’m afraid.” Kane shrugged. “At the time he left Imperial service, his rumored activities were far enough from New Berlin that we decided he was someone else’s problem.”

  “Such as ours?” Clegg asked pointedly.

  “I’m sure there was no intent on the Emperor’s part to allow him to prey on others,” Kane said. “It was mostly that the distance made a direct response impractical. At any rate, later information suggested he might be assembling a force large enough to return and challenge the Emperor. That, of course, the Emperor could not permit.”

  “So you were sent to hunt him down,” Clegg said.

  “Exactly,” Kane said, nodding. “Recently we’ve heard rumors of a man matching his description having been seen in Silesia, so this is where I began my search.”