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Judgment of the Bold
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Judgment of the Bold
Bold Trilogy #3
Jamie McFarlane
Fickle Dragon Publishing LLC
Contents
Preface
Prologue
1. Spark
2. Fish in a Barrel
3. On Tilt
4. Rage Fires
5. I Choose Life
6. Phoenix
7. Neema
8. Back in Chili
9. In the Rearview
10. Not in Kansas Anymore
11. Full of Crap
12. Fowl Stench
13. Always Spiders
14. Overload
15. Good Cop, Demon Cop
16. Too Many Secrets
17. Lonely at the Top
18. Weapon of Choice
19. Hunger
20. The Quiet Before
21. For All the Marbles
22. To the End
23. Breaking Free
Epilogue
Glossary of Names
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Also by Jamie McFarlane
Preface
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Prologue
Judgment of the Bold is the third book in the Privateer Tales Bold Trilogy and has been written in a manner to be read independent of the other books. That said, one of the difficulties of writing a long running series is getting people back up to speed with characters they may have forgotten. I have two resources available for this. The first is a glossary at the end of this book. In this glossary, I have descriptions of the major characters. The second is on my website at fickledragon.com/privateer-tales-characters. And, don't worry, neither resource is required. I'll introduce each character as you run into them, just like you'd expect.
Happy Reading!
Jamie
Chapter 1
Spark
"Captain, sensors are picking up a derelict at one hundred thousand kilometers," Jonathan announced.
Unable to sleep, I'd relieved the watch, preferring the quiet an empty bridge afforded. And while being accompanied by the collective of fourteen hundred thirty-eight sentients we called Jonathan was hardly solitude, it was comfortable. The two of us spent enough time together that we were content in the companionable silence.
"How far off our nav-path?" I pulled my feet from the forward bulkhead and dropped them onto the deck. While on watch I preferred the pilot's chairs as they allowed the widest field of view through Hornblower's forward armored glass screen. I focused on the vid-screen, now visible where my feet had rested only a moment before.
We were still under a hard-burn, which meant our sensors were limited in their ability to pick up long range objects, and with a few exceptions, we couldn't communicate ship-to-ship. That said, Jonathan had plucked what to most would look like static from those sensors and had made a positive identification of wreckage.
"We will pass within twenty thousand kilometers," Jonathan answered.
Accompanied by an Abasi cruiser from House Perasti on our way back to Tamu from the Picis system, we'd already run across three derelicts. In the previous three cases, the ships had been violently disabled and their crews murdered.
My AI projected a plan that would allow a close flyby. If this ship were Abasi, then Moyo, Perasti Tertiary, would link with the ship's systems and learn of the crew's fate. If it were anything else, we'd have to rely solely on our sensors as we made a fast pass at a hundred kilometers or so.
"Hunting Fog has altered course," Jonathan announced.
"Match course correction," I answered. So much for a quiet watch.
I stood and straightened, stretching out the kinks caused by slouching in the chair, then grabbed my coffee from where it was magnetically affixed to the chair. Before I'd taken two steps, a whistle sounded at the bridge door. On my HUD, Ada Chen, Hornblower's lead pilot and a good friend, appeared with her hand on the bridge security pad. As third in command, her security clearance was such that I didn't need to acknowledge her entrance. The hatch popped back and slid into the wall.
"I was having the best dream," she grumbled as she swept onto the bridge, the long tails of the coat she'd taken to wearing trailing behind her. Ada had fine features and a willowy build. Today, a wrinkled-pillow pattern was etched along her high, left cheekbone.
"Morning, Cap." Marny James-Bertrand, my number two, jogged in behind her. The two women could not have been more different. Physically, where Ada was slight, Marny was well-muscled. As leaders, where Ada was instinctual, often making decisions in flight without knowing immediately why, Marny was strategic in every move. Both women were formidable. To be honest, if I had one super-power, it was to recognize their value and make a place where they could both thrive.
"No need to be chipper," Ada grumbled again and slid into the chair where I'd just been sitting. "Thanks for warming up the chair though, Liam."
"Good morning, Marny. Appreciate you two rolling out," I said. "Six minutes ago, Jonathan detected a new derelict. We've adjusted course for a flyby."
Ada made a show of wiping at her vid screen with a nano-infused cloth. "Did this derelict put its dirty derelict feet onto my pristine, new vid-screens? If not, I'll thank whoever it was to keep their big clods on the deck where they belong."
With the heat of Ada's stare at my back, I rerouted to the sideboard where the ship's steward kept hot coffee, water and snacks. "Hunting Fog has already altered course," I said, refusing to acknowledge Ada's complaint. I poured hot water into a thermal cup and filled a small, silver bell with tea before dropping it into the water.
"Looks like the same signature," Marny observed, standing in front of a video panel on the portside. "Am I seeing this right, Jonathan?"
I smiled as I handed the hot tea to Ada. "Hungry?" I asked her.
"Both circumstance and the mass we've measured lead us to the same conclusion," Jonathan answered.
"No. And this doesn’t let you off the hook. I don't want my screens all scratched up," she said, tilting her head in an attempt to convey annoyance. I smiled and tried to look innocent. She was a light touch and returned my smile.
"Another cutter?" Marny asked.
Green ready lights illuminated next to both engineering and fire-control status indicators on my HUD. Roby Bishop, a native of Zuri and an extremely bright engineer, and Sendrei Buhari, the powerful, albeit gentle former Earth Naval officer we'd rescued from a Kroerak-controlled planet, had also been pulled from their warm beds in response to the status elevation caused by the wreck.
"That is correct," Jonathan answered.
"Is it just me?" Roby chimed in on the ship's tactical channel. "Or do we only find these things on the graveyard shift?"
"It's not just you," Ada agreed.
I wasn't big on chatter during a crisis, but Roby was merely checking in.
"Sendrei, what's our ordnance level?" I asked.
Hornblower was equipped with both blasters and projectile weapons, which made it a rather unusual configuration. The labor involved in simply moving the 400mm, 250mm and 75mm projectiles around made them expensive to carry. It was a cost Marny had been willing to bear for the rescue mission Hornblower had just undertaken, but that cost outlay was something we'd have to reconcile over time. The fact was, projectile ammo was as devastating as it was surprising to those we ran into, outperforming the blaster weapons by two or three times in both range and damage.
"We have eighty percent of our four hundreds, sixty-five percent of our two fifties and the seve
nty-fives are at twenty percent," he answered.
"Hunting Fog has cut engines," Jonathan announced.
"All hands, hard-burn desists," Ada announced, having adopted the Felio speech pattern.
My stomach lurched as the engines spooled down and the inertial and gravity systems switched from redirecting the crushing force of acceleration into a 1.5g downward force to space-normal 0.6g.
"Incoming comm, Hunting Fog," Nick, my best friend and business partner, announced from beside me. I hadn't seen him come in. He'd likely been busy with his and Marny's infant son, Peter, who shared the name with my deceased father.
"On bridge," I answered. Having dropped from hard-burn, our sensors transmitted a higher-resolution image of a wrecked Abasi cutter that sailed with the colors of House Mshindi. "Go ahead, Hunting Fog."
"Bold Prime," Moyo answered, her always well-groomed, orange-furred face appearing on my holo projector. "We have located a communication device that was activated twelve hours previous."
"Oh?"
Nick was furiously swiping at his display. He nodded affirmation.
"House of the Bold has authorization to decipher this message, but I will convey its contents for your interpretation," she said. "I propose that we mate ships that we might meet whiskered. My gunjway has prepared morning entrails."
I had turned off my AI's interpretation circuits. I'd learned enough of the Felio language that I was able to interpret for myself. My AI showed 'raft-up' and 'face-to-face' as substitutions for 'mate' and 'whiskered' on my HUD. I smiled at the translation of entrails to refreshment. I was definitely missing a lot by allowing the translator to work.
"See you in ten," I answered. "Bold desists."
"Catchy phrase, isn't it?" Ada quipped. " I don't care if it is morning, I will never be up for entrails."
I grinned but didn't respond. "Tabbs, can you meet us at Deck Three airlock?"
My fiancée, Tabitha Masters, having taken the last watch, hadn't been summoned by the general quarters call. She was below Ada on the chain of command, though they were both excellent pilots. Tabby’s real talent was as a warrior, which translated better to small ships and situations requiring hand-to-hand combat.
"On my way," she answered. "What's on that transmission?" I wasn't surprised she was following the events unfolding on the bridge.
"Ship name was Tracks in Snow," Nick said. "Smart captain too. After being attacked by three Strix-flagged sloops, she realized there was no escape and dropped the communication devices. Tracks in Snow was coming to warn us."
"About what?" Tabby asked.
"Strix, Golenti, and Pogona nations have all broken from the Confederation of Planets," Nick said. "They're targeting Abasi ships."
"That might explain why we've seen so few ships," I said.
The route we'd taken from Picis back to Tamu had been nearly devoid of other ships. It was to be expected on the Picis side, but we were a single jump from Tamu, the home of the Abasi, and still saw absolutely no traffic in a normally very busy area. "Nick, you're with me. Marny, Ada, hold down the bridge. We'll keep comms open."
"Aye, aye, Cap," Marny answered, taking my position in the captain's chair.
"What about Zuri?" Ada asked. "Did they say anything about Petersburg or Silver?"
Nick cut me a worried look. We hadn't talked much about the fact that my mom had gone completely incommunicado at roughly the same time the second fleet of Kroerak were due to arrive at the planet Zuri.
"I'm still parsing," Nick said as we jumped onto the elevator and dropped to Deck Three, "but it doesn't look good. There's information about casualties on Zuri and details about how the Confederation fleet has been devastated."
"Confederation?" I asked. "I thought Abasi seceded from the Confederation."
"Not sure," Nick answered. "That's all I can gather for now."
"If you don't mind," Jonathan interjected, "we've fully parsed the transmission. It is incomplete, but much can be inferred. There are sufficient references to Confederation fleet activities to indicate that the Strix, Pogona and Golenti departure from Confederation rule was accompanied by a return of Abasi to the Confederation. We're also concerned for the safety of the inhabitants of the York settlement and of Petersburg station. Significantly, there has been loss of communication between the Tamu and Santaloo systems."
Nick and I caught up with Tabby in the hallway on Deck Three. While eighty-five crew sounds like a significant complement, we were running with about a third of what we needed, and the ship felt abandoned. I placed a hand on the narrow of Tabby's waist as we joined her in front of the airlock. She'd heard our approach and turned into me, smiling as she felt my touch. She had the lightest little freckles on the top of her cheeks. Her hair was the color of copper, and a single, long braid had been pulled over one shoulder. Misjudging her very feminine form had been the mistake of several in the past. Even before she'd had her legs, right arm, and a good portion of her lower spine and several ribs replaced due to horrific injuries, she'd been a scrapper. After the surgery, her synthetic muscles and nano-crystalized-steel-reinforced skeleton had turned her into nothing short of a force of nature.
"Why the in-person confab?" Tabby asked, giving me a quick peck on the lips.
"We're not sure what we're going to run into when we get to Tamu," Nick said. "It sounds pretty grim though. I'm sure Moyo wants to have a plan."
Tabby nodded at the window in the airlock door. "Catwalk is here."
We were met on the other side by none other than Moyo, captain of Hunting Fog.
I tapped just below my solar plexus with my open hand. It was a Felio greeting that, best as we could tell, was derived from a gesture that meant we were satisfied and not looking to start a fight because we were hungry. Moyo returned the gesture.
Felio, including those in command, wore what most humans believed to be overly skimpy clothing. The Felio body was entirely covered in fur, but their uniforms resembled bikinis with high boots and long gloves. According to Semper, the only Felio aboard Hornblower, most vac-suits ended up being too warm unless they were cut out as described. Tabby had a different take on it, believing the female-dominated culture proudly flaunt their lithe bodies, knowing most males of the same species could never take advantage of them. I'd caused myself trouble more than once by paying too much attention to 'innocent' uniform failures.
"Does House of the Bold stand firm with Abasi?" Moyo asked, after closing the door to a conference room.
I was startled by her question. Truthfully, I'd been checking out the array of food, which was definitely all non-entrails related.
"Of course we do," I replied. "Bold Second, Marny James-Bertrand and Nicholas James-Bertrand committed the company previously known as Loose Nuts to this agreement. Not only was it in their power to do so, but I believe it was to the mutual benefit of Abasi and Loose Nuts."
"So far the benefit has been primarily one-sided," Moyo shot back. She was not perturbed as much as she was direct. "As we have discussed, Abasi invited House of the Bold to join our great nation. As part of this agreement, House of the Bold agreed to utilize their resources in the defense of Abasi. It is this commitment that I wish to confirm."
"I believe there was also a discussion of the Mhina system," I answered. "Are you asking if we're going to run when we see a thousand Kroerak ships on the other side of the wormhole?"
"Only one moon in the entire Mhina system is productive. You negotiated for less land than would have been granted to your house on the planet Zuri where taxes would have been immediately available to House Bold." Moyo gave me a hard look. "But that is not the important part of my query."
"We are first and foremost human," I said, watching Moyo stiffen as I said it. "Unlike Felio, there are many human tribes. Our original tribes were that of Mars and Earth. While we would do whatever is necessary to aid the tribes of our youth, we are now Abasi. In two spans, when we transition from Preish to Tamu, we will defend our new home planet of Abasi Prim
e as if we had been born upon it. We will defend our sisters as if we had grown from our youth with them. Let there be no mistake in our resolve. We will drive Kroerak, Pogona, Strix, Golenti and even those little gnats that get in your fur from our home. We will drive them into the star. We will drive them into the dust of the dead moon. We will drive them into the deep dark where none can find their bodies."
As I spoke, Moyo's lips curled back, showing her elongated fangs. "You speak as a Felio. We are indeed kindred. Mshindi Prime's faith in House Bold will be vindicated even as we die gloriously in defense of our home."
"Bilge scum," I said, spitting on the floor. "There is no glory in dying. There is only glory in living. We've translated the transmission. As Abasi, we also have access to the same encryption as you. The Kroerak are slow in their strategy. They see every problem as a nail, so they only know how to use a hammer. I'm telling you, we just need to make sure those bugs don't see any boards. Are you following me?"
The confused look on her face was evident. "I will follow House Bold to combat. I do not understand nails and boards."
"What he's saying is that Kroerak only know how to fight one way. They line up for a lance wave attack and fire. They don't even mind if they hit each other," Nick said. "We believe it is because many ships are controlled by a single central figure. An important difference between Kroerak and human command structures is that when we separate our attacks, we're able to perform independently."