Winds of Marque Read online

  The gravitational maelstrom of the Cluster had little direct effect on local orbits this far out in the Halo, but comets, asteroids, and even whole planets were sometimes flung loose from the Hub, causing havoc for navigation. New objects were often discovered only by accident and at close range, and updated charts were a vital—and expensive—tool for the merchant hoping to sail fast.

  “Yes, I believe I may, even though they’re very hard to come by.”

  “And do you know a good chandler who can supply us with a few minor engineering parts?”

  “Why don’t we go to my offices to discuss this further, my lord? It’s just down the street.”

  “Excellent.” Liam rose to his feet, dropping a small collection of coins noisily on the table.

  Long rose more slowly, and with some effort, eyes resting on Virtue again.

  “Your crew are also welcome, my lord.”

  Liam felt a rush of revulsion for this man, but continued to play his role. He glanced back at his team with a start, as if he’d already forgotten about them.

  “Yes, of course. Come along.”

  With a heavy limp, Long led the way back out to the station’s main thoroughfare. Liam fell in beside him, practically shuffling his feet to maintain the slow pace. As a group of five moving slowly, they created quite a large obstacle in the flow of locals moving past them, drawing no shortage of glares. It was hardly the best way to keep a low profile, and Liam scanned the street for anyone who seemed to be paying them too much attention. No shortage of eyes followed their movement, but whether they were motivated by annoyance, simple curiosity, or something more nefarious was impossible to tell.

  Long eventually led them down one of the many side alleys stretching away from the main street. As the clearance overhead dropped, Liam felt like he was on a ship again, with the cold metal of bulkheads stretching between the modest business fronts on either side of the corridor. When he reached a sign that read long voyages, Mr. Long pushed open the door and entered, inviting Liam and the others to follow.

  Within was a modest office staffed by a pair of bored-looking workers, a middle-aged woman and a man who might have been younger but who had clearly led a hard life, if one could draw such conclusions from his weathered skin and the weariness of his expression. Liam was invited to take the only comfortable-looking seat in the semiprivate corner of the office. Long growled at the man to make some tea and at the woman to bring some files.

  “What engineering parts do you need, my lord?” he asked, his obsequious tone returning.

  “My cargo master can answer specifics,” Liam said, waving vaguely at Virtue. “Just direct us to the chandler.”

  “Tom,” Long barked at the man making tea, “sort out my good captain’s chandler needs and arrange to have parts delivered to his ship.”

  Tom diligently finished brewing the tea, delivered a cup each to his boss and Liam, then quietly engaged Virtue in a discussion about parts. Virtue tried to look serious, but she was clearly enjoying her role pretending to be a civilian merchant. Swift hovered at her shoulder to provide technical expertise. Sky kept her eyes on the whole room.

  A thick sheaf of files was brought over by the woman, and Long made a show of sifting through them. “Let me take a look at some of the cargoes which are currently on the station. You say you’re bound for Silica, my lord?”

  “Yes. But before we discuss cargoes, I want to secure a small-object chart. You did say you have one?”

  “Ah, yes.”

  Plucking a key from his pocket, he reached back and unlocked a safe. He pulled out a data cube and handed it to Liam, pointing out the Imperial date stamp on it.

  “As you can see, my lord, this is an official chart issued less than forty days ago—hard to get more current than that.” He gestured at the clearly empty safe. “This is my last copy. They are impossible to tamper with and impossible to duplicate, so you can rest assured that this is the genuine article. That does mean that it comes with a substantial price, of course, but it is worth every penny.”

  Liam examined the cube, immediately recognizing the date stamp as official and seeing no signs of tampering. It was a frustrating reality that small-object charting was too localized and too chaotic for a bureaucratic, centralized organization like the Navy to stay on top of, and this wasn’t the first time he’d had to purchase a civilian navigation tool to assist in operations. But this level of detailed knowledge was essential to Daring’s mission.

  “Tell me about these pirates you mentioned,” he said lightly as he handed the cube back to Long.

  “Dangerous folk, my lord. Not two days ago they attacked a ship, Lightning Louise, within sight of Farmer’s Paradise—stole everything and killed the crew.” He flicked one of the cargo sheets. “This shipment here was supposed to be for Louise, in fact. I could make you a special offer if you’re willing to take it out of here on schedule.”

  “Do the pirates operate mostly around this planet? Should I make all haste to clear to a certain distance?”

  “I don’t think they’re based on the planet, my lord. Most of the attacks occur farther away—this latest one was unusually bold. It’s making for uncertainties in the entire sector. As you are clearly brave enough to continue your trade, I think you may stand to do very well.”

  “We can handle a bunch of rogues,” Liam said with the airiness of an ignorant toff, “but I’d rather not risk my crew. If you know of any routes which are safer than others, I’d be quite grateful.”

  “Likewise, my lord, if you can safely deliver some of my cargo, I will be quite grateful.”

  He was desperate to unload goods, Liam realized. No doubt many merchant captains were simply refusing to ply this sector, and if trade ground to a halt, it would spell disaster for all of the colonies.

  “I would like to work together, Mr. Long.”

  With renewed energy, Long placed the data cube in his terminal and brought up the chart. He marked out every pirate attack location he knew of in the past four seasons, giving what info he could on the results of the attack. Liam listened carefully, noticing a clear pattern of increasing aggressiveness in the attacks—but nothing to pinpoint a base of operations. Long’s information wasn’t useless, but it was little more than rumor and hearsay. Perhaps further data mining of the chart back aboard Daring would provide fresh insight.

  Finally, Liam sat back. Long eyed him expectantly.

  “Can we make a deal, my lord?”

  The man had been of some use, Liam admitted to himself.

  “I’ll take your chart, but I’ll need to consider the cargo options. Give me half a day.”

  Frustration welled up in the deep-set eyes, but Long kept his face neutral. He handed Liam the cargo manifest that had been destined for Lightning Louise.

  “I would like to see this shipment moved and I’ll offer you a very generous price.”

  Liam removed the data cube from the terminal, pocketed it, and placed a tidy pile of coins on the table between them. He was probably going to take the offered cargo, he knew, but making the merchant wait was all part of the negotiations.

  “As I said, I will consider your offer of the cargo.” He rose and looked over to where Virtue was busy writing on a form for Tom. “Have you sorted your needs, Amelia?”

  “Yes, milord,” she said, eyes flashing. “Tom will arrange for the delivery this afternoon.”

  “Splendid.” He nodded to Long. “Good morning to you, sir.”

  Long struggled to his feet, his dark expression partially shielded as he bowed his head.

  “Good morning, Captain.”

  Sky led the way back out with Swift and Virtue close on her heels. Liam followed, keeping his eyes on every side alley. No doubt Mr. Long was well connected on this station, and Liam knew his performance as a new, arrogant noble captain splashing money everywhere would start tongues wagging immediately.

  “Word will be getting out about us,” he warned his team, “and we’re a little far from t
he ship. Keep your eyes open for trouble.”

  Once they were back on the street, they slipped into the general movement of the crowds. Merchants shouted their wares from a long line of temporary stalls, and young boys darted along and across the promenade.

  “Watch those boys,” Virtue said, walking beside him. “Where I come from, they’re often runners and lookouts.”

  “I have no doubt we’re being watched,” Liam replied. “It was my intention. Let’s just hope we convinced them that we are who we say.”

  “Amelia did a fine job negotiating,” Swift offered. “I think she saved us a dozen crowns.”

  “Yeah,” she said, grinning suddenly. “That was kind of fun.”

  The flow of people was quick and they retraced their steps in good time. Liam eventually saw the sign for the Cup of Plenty hanging up ahead and he began to relax. The docks were just beyond, and through the clear canopy he could see the rugged form of Daring floating safely.

  “Sir,” Sky hissed from behind him, “trouble at two o’clock.”

  He casually turned his head, and immediately spotted the group of men who had just risen en masse from two tables in front of the Cup of Plenty. And they were all looking at Liam.

  “Move faster,” he said.

  He grabbed Virtue’s hand, increasing his pace to a jog and slipping through the crowd. The group of men abandoned any attempt at stealth and rushed forward, pouring off of the café’s deck and shoving people aside. Liam broke into a run, feeling Virtue match his pace even as she held on to him. He glanced back to see Swift and Sky pushing locals out of their way and into the path of the oncoming thugs. Turning forward, he saw the fence to the docks ahead.

  But his path was suddenly blocked by a trio of powerful young men who closed in, shoulder to shoulder. Before Liam could veer off, they were upon him, strong hands grabbing his shoulders. Virtue’s hand slipped violently out of his. He shook off his assailant, blocking a massive forearm swinging down at his head. He launched a hook punch into the thug’s chest and felt the inner sagging as his blow knocked the lungs empty of air. A sharp elbow to the back of the neck and the thug dropped to his knees.

  Swift had already downed an attacker and was wrestling with a second. Sky was grappling with a large man; a sharp twist of her hands caused a sickening crack and he collapsed in pain, desperately cradling his arm. Another man grabbed her from behind in a choke, but she muscled him forward toward Swift then used her own attacker’s weight as an anchor as she lifted both legs to deliver a double kick to Swift’s opponent. Dropping back, she raked her heels down her attacker’s shins and slammed down on his feet. As he staggered she slid sideways, back-fisted him in the groin, and pulled loose of his choke to elbow him in the head before knocking him to the ground.

  A gunshot cracked through the air. Liam ducked, cursing himself for pausing to admire how dirty Sky fought. The remaining thugs backed away, and Swift and Sky both paused, their gazes darting around for the source of the shot. Screams erupted all across the street as locals ran to clear the area, but within moments a strange quiet had descended.

  With growing dread, Liam looked toward where he’d last seen Virtue.

  She was being held by a man with a gun. The pistol was still pointed upward, but when he caught Liam’s eye, he lowered it. Liam started to move forward, but stopped cold as the thug jammed the pistol against Virtue’s skull. She winced in pain. Liam’s anger suddenly surged, threatening to overwhelm his cool, tactical assessment.

  “Well now,” drawled another man, stepping into the several paces between Liam and Virtue. He wasn’t as big as the others, but carried an air of petty authority. “There ain’t no need for trouble. All’s we want is that fancy little chart you’re carrying.”

  He glared at Swift and Sky, then looked toward the inside pocket of Liam’s coat, exactly where the data cube rested. Liam guessed they were two paces apart. Swift and Sky were both unencumbered, but the various thugs were slowly picking themselves up from their beatings. There were only a few seconds before the entire group would be combat ready again.

  Hiding his anger, he raised his hands and assumed a look of desperation.

  “Of course, of course,” he said with full noble accent, stepping forward and reaching under his coat. “Have mercy. Please don’t hurt us.”

  “Nobody needs to get hurt,” the thug leader said. “I reckon—”

  His sentence died on a gargled gasp as Liam plunged the dagger into his heart. His head tried to turn back and shocked eyes faded to darkness even as Liam grabbed him and charged forward into the pistol-wielding thug. A crash of bodies saw the weapon tumble to the ground and Virtue immediately scrambled free and leaped back. Liam pushed until his enemy fell, the weight of the body landing on top of the thug. Then he recovered the dropped gun and pointed it at the remaining thugs, motioning Virtue in close behind him. His free hand gripped hers and he could hear her rapid breathing.

  “You have ten seconds until I take it upon myself to determine how many more bullets are left in this pistol,” he said coldly, silently daring one of them to give him a reason to fire again.

  The thugs ran. As Liam tracked them, he realized with some surprise that he was holding a Navy-issue pistol. Glancing at Virtue, he saw the open flap of her holster visible beneath her coat.

  Sky drew her own pistols as she slowly scanned the street. She took the proffered weapon from Liam.

  “Everyone all right?” he asked.

  Around them, the street activity was already returning to normal. The incident over, locals were quick to continue with their daily routines.

  “I’m fine,” Virtue managed, her face flushed. “Were those pirates?”

  “Local goons,” Swift said. “Trying to rough up newcomers.”

  “They knew exactly where we were,” Liam growled, “and where I had the chart in my pocket. We were set up.”

  “Want me to send a team to pay Mr. Long a visit?” Swift suggested, his face hardening.

  “No. I think we made our point. And we still need to be welcome on this station—trashing warehouse offices doesn’t seem like the thing an honest merchant would do.”

  “We’re not in a secure position,” Sky said, eyes still watching their surroundings. “I recommend we talk on the ship.”

  “Agreed.” Liam wondered if his father would be impressed or horrified to know that his ceremonial gift had actually drawn blood. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He led the way back through the gate and to the airlock, knowing Sky would cover their withdrawal. It wasn’t until he reached to activate the airlock that he realized he was still holding Virtue’s hand.

  Chapter 9

  “Are you ready for another spin as the plucky cargo master?”

  Amelia glanced over at Blackwood, appreciating the good-natured expression on his usually stern face. She didn’t mind looking at him either way, and she was embarrassed how many times he’d caught her staring recently. She really needed to focus on their mission, especially now that they’d arrived at a new port of call.

  Their eventful visit to Windfall Station was more than a week in the past, and the quiet transit across the outer Silica sector hadn’t dampened her enthusiasm for another run ashore in disguise.

  “Ready, milord. Let’s grind these merchants down with our skillful negotiations.”

  He clapped her on the shoulder and signaled Swift to open the cargo doors. The touch of his hand sent a rush of warmth through her, but she shook it off. The mission, she reminded herself.

  The crates were lined up in Daring’s midships cargo bay, using every lifter on board. Normally she would have mustered the entire ship’s company to off-load this amount of supplies, but no merchant ship sailed with a crew that large. So it was just her, Swift, and Blackwood to handle the lot.

  The cargo doors clanged to a stop and once again the metallic air of a space station drifted in. Amelia followed Blackwood through the wide gangway connecting the ship to the jetty and
got her first look at station Silica 7. Her immediate sense was of open space, but a space very different from the promenade at Windfall. The utilitarian spar was wide enough for a regiment of soldiers to march down, but barely taller than a typical station passageway. Daring had taken the single berth at one end and Amelia could see a series of open airlock doors at the other, perhaps a hundred paces away. The long, low, industrial space was lined on either side with cargo caged behind hastily assembled mesh walls, a single tractor rumbling faintly at the far end of the spar as it moved crates. Perhaps a dozen people were scattered across her view, and more than a few eyes turned her way as she stepped across the cargo gangplank and onto the station’s metal deck.

  One woman was strolling up the dock, a younger man in tow, and her gaze quickly settled on Amelia and Blackwood. She carried a clipboard and the young man trailed a box on wheels behind him. They moved with easy purpose and Blackwood stepped forward to greet them.

  “Captain Julian Stonebridge,” he said as he extended his hand. “Sophia’s Fancy.”

  “Leah Digger,” the woman said with a firm handshake before nodding to her companion. “My son Henry. Welcome to Silica 7.”

  Amelia had already guessed the family connection. Both mother and son were of average height and fair complexion, with the same piercing green eyes. She caught the lad’s eye and smiled. He smiled shyly back before dropping his gaze.

  “We have your scheduled cargo,” Blackwood said, “plus an extra shipment which I understand was urgently needed.” He offered the cargo manifest. They’d eventually decided to take Matthew Long’s offer of the Lightning Louise shipment, and a bit of aggressive negotiation by Blackwood had convinced the vile tradesman to throw in the extra cargo for pennies. Long had clearly realized that he’d been caught out in his attempted robbery, and Amelia was confident that the crew of Sophia’s Fancy would be treated to more respect when they next returned to Windfall Station.