David Drake - When the Tide Rises

TheStager Brothers ' last missile began to describe a slow spiral. Adele was too busy to magnify her image of it, but she'd seen several rounds from theColumbine andForsyte 14 fail in the same fashion. Exhaust had eaten a hole in the thruster nozzle so that plasma was pushing sideways as well as straight back. As Adele'd learned to expect, the missile carved increasingly wider circles until a gush of flame blew the whole back end away.

All sixteen missiles from the three Bagarian ships had failed before they got within ten miles of the surface of Churchyard. Adele didn't know what Daniel thought he could accomplish since the problem wasn't in the way the rounds had been aimed, but that wasn't her job to determine.

"Captain, I don't think Cory can keep theColumbine 's sender focused on us, on theLadouceur, if both ships are maneuvering," she said. "Hecan handle the relay, that's automated. I-"

"Captain Leary?" Rene Cazelet interrupted. Adele knew Rene'd added himself to the command channel that linked all the commissioned and warrant officers aboard, but she hadn't given the matter any thought when she moved the discussion there to include Cory. "I can direct the head manually. I don't mean to imply criticism of Mister Cory; your Cinnabar naval equipment is automated, but I trained in the merchant service with apparatus very like what theColumbinehas. Over."

"Adele?" Daniel said, back on the two-way link.

Adele looked at the image of Rene Cazelet on her display. She knew that she could meet his eyes directly by just looking up and glancing across the bridge, but she preferred the electronic semblance. His expression was clear and open; and underneath that, afraid. He was afraid that she wouldn't think he was competent.

Which meant thathe really thought that he could do the job. Well, he had more data on the subject that she did, so she might as well accept his judgment.

"All right," Adele said. "Cazelet, accompany Captain Leary to theColumbine. Keep a real-time connection with me, and do everything else he tells you to. Over."

Or did she mean, "Out"?

"Yes, mistress!" the boy said as he leaped from his console. He was beaming as he strode to the suit locker in the rotunda beyond the bridge hatch.

"Lieutenant Liu, you have the conn," Daniel said as he rose. Hogg got up also. Daniel added, "Hogg, you can stay aboard theLadouceur. Space may be tight on the Columbine's bridge, and there's nothing for you to do, over."

"Sure there is, young master," Hogg said, speaking loudly over the sound of the air handler. "That wog captain may not want to give you his seat, admiral's pips or no."

As he spoke, Hogg pulled his big folding knife from a pocket. It had a handguard in the form of a knuckleduster.

"I'll come along to reason with him," Hogg concluded, tossing the knife-still closed-in the air and catching it again.

"Captain Julian, gentlemen," said Daniel as he and Hogg stepped out of the airlock. They'd taken their helmets off before the hatch undogged, so he didn't have to struggle with that task while the three men inColumbine 's forward compartment stared at him in surprise. He hadn't warned Julian by radio because he shared Hogg's opinion that the Bagarian captain wouldn't be in agreement with his plan.

"What're you doing here?" David Julian demanded. He struggled awkwardly to rise from his console. It was placed in the far bow facing inward, so that the captain seated there could see everybody in the forward compartment.

"I'm going to take theColumbine in on this run, Captain Julian," Daniel said cheerily. "I regret the suddenness of this."

In fact Daniel regretted a lot of things, certainly including the fact that he was cutting corners in a fashion that could only be described as discourteous to a fellow spacer. Admiral James and the Bagarian Republic both depended on clearing the cluster of Alliance bases, though, and this seemed to be the only way to do that in a reasonable length of time.

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" Julian said in a scandalized tone. "This is my ship. I own her!"

Daniel stepped around the console, noting with relief that the seat was so oversized that he could use it without stripping off his hard suit. That was a common feature on tramp freighters, since the crew could rarely depend on the climate control system or the vessel remaining airtight either one. If the controls couldn't be operated by people wearing suits, they couldn't be operated at all.

Captain Julian wasn't suited up, but he filled and overflowed the console; Daniel instinctively sucked in his gut. Mentally, he murmured a promise toreally cut back on his meals. Mind, he'd made the same promise every time he'd put on his Dress Whites during the past six months.

"He most certainly isnotthe owner of theColumbine!" Adele's voice rattled from the implant in Daniel's left ear. "He sold the ship to the government for one point five million ostrads, on the basis of a valuation by Petrus Lascaux. Who appears to be Julian's brother-in-law!"

"I'm very sorry, Captain," Daniel said. He didn't suppose he sounded any sorrier than he felt. "Nonetheless you knew this might happen when you sold theColumbine to the government for one and a half million ostrads."

Because Julian had risen to confront Daniel, the console's empty seat was between them. Daniel set his armored right foot on it, knowing the hard suit trumped the Bagarian's greater bulk.

The information from Adele didn't change anything but the words, though. Daniel would've commandeered a private vessel if he'd had to, counting on his admiral's rank to justify the action; or if not that, then success wiping the slate clean. If hedidn't succeed, he'd probably be dead and the question of whether he'd committed piracy wouldn't matter.

The airlock cycled again. It only held two suited figures at a time, so Adele's friend Cazelet had to come through after Daniel and Hogg had.

Julian clenched his fist and said, "You can get your Cinnabar ass off this ship, buddy, or-"

"Or what, lard-butt?" Woetjans said. "You're talking to Mister Leary. That means you keep a civil tongue in your head or somebody's likely to pull it out!"

"Who'reyou?" Julian said in a tone of wonderment. He lowered his arm, all bluster vanished.

Daniel half-rotated his body; the rigid suit kept him from glancing over his shoulder as he'd have done in street clothes. Cazelet was there, all right, but the bosun had entered ahead of him. She held the short come-along she'd been using to lever the plasma missiles into their cradles on the hull.

"Six, the kid here-"

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder; Cazelet hopped back. Behind them both, the airlock was cycling again.

"-told us what you were pulling. We sent his riggers onto theLaddie, but me'n four a' my crew are gonna handle the rig while you're aboard. Or handle any bloody thing at all, right?"

"Right!" said Daniel briskly. "Captain Julian, if you'll make yourself as comfortable as you can on one of the benches, we'll take care of business so that you can have your ship back."

Dasi and Barnes were the next pair of Sissies out of the airlock. Like the bosun, they carried the tools they'd been using out on the hull.

"We cast this tub loose from theLaddie, Six," Barnes said cheerfully. "Say, we going to put it to the wogs again?"

Dasi glanced at the two spacers who'd been in the compartment when Daniel arrived. "My buddy means Alliance wogs, not you lot," he said. He pursed his full lips in consideration. "That's right, ain't it, Six?"

"Perfectly correct, Dasi," Daniel said, checking the little freighter's systems. Cazelet settled himself on the console's jump seat; the controls on that side were already live, probably by accident.

The Power Room with the fusion bottle and a crew of three was theColumbine 's only other pressurized compartment. The engineer hadn't opened the hatch to see what was going on in the fore cabin and Daniel didn't see any reason to disturb him.