Rebel (22 page)

Captain Bolesław whispered a word not fit for a Grand Duchess’s ears. Vicky, as a lieutenant commander, echoed it.

The destroyer fired another broadside. The
Pride of Darby
took two hits this time. One to the reactor. The ship began to bloom with survival pods.

The next volley also scored two hits, one aft.

“The reactor containment is failing,” Lieutenant Blue said, his voice high and breaking.

A moment later, the
Pride of Darby
began to explode, starting aft and moving quickly forward. Hot gases and fragments of ship or cargo blew out, collided with survival pods, and finished what the Empress had begun.

“Are any survival pods squawking?” Captain Bolesław asked.

“A dozen, sir. I’m getting that same order to the destroyer from the flag, sir. What could they mean by it?”

A moment later, the destroyer fired again. They watched in horror as it took four more broadsides, but they wiped out every last one of the survival pods.

“The bastard,” Captain Bolesław growled.

“Message coming in from the
Empress’s Revenge
,” Lieutenant Blue said, looking rather green.

“Put it on screen,” the skipper ordered.

Again they looked at a red-coated Security Consultant in a uniform dripping in gold and silver. This one was taller, thinner, and not at all the type who’d be in line for a coronary.

“I am the Duke of Radebuel, Butcher of Dresden,” the redcoat growled. “You have been warned. Surrender now, and you might receive the Empress’s mercy. Fail to surrender in the next five minutes, and I will see you slaughtered to the last man, woman, and child.”

The screen went blank.

“A man of few words,” Vicky observed.

“But those words are bloody,” Captain Bolesław said.

“Computer, tell me about this man who styles himself a duke,” Vicky said.

“There was no such dukedom when I was last interfaced with the Greenfeld database, but he was mentioned in the data dump we took off the
Golden Empress No. 34
. Giorgio Topalski is another one of the bank managers who came to notice during the suppression of State Security. Among other planets he ‘cleaned out,’ his own words, was Dresden. He was particularly bloody in the way he killed the State Security types. He also included their wives and children in the brutal slaughter. He sent videos of his depredations back to the Empress and her father and was praised by them. When riots broke out on Dresden over soaring unemployment, he was chosen to go back there with three brigades of Security Consultants and pacify the planet. An unknown number of demonstrators died when his consultants opened fire. A suppressed report from the Radebuel city coroner determined that most of the dead were shot in the back.”

“That would get you the nickname Butcher,” Captain Bolesław growled.

“That is not why he is called the Butcher of Dresden,” the computer corrected the captain. “If the information contained in several letters and two news records from the
Golden Empress No. 34
are correct, once the capital, Radebuel of Dresden, was pacified, some of his guards took over a pub one night to celebrate. They got drunk, then raped several of the barmaids. Three were found dead the next morning, brutally tortured and murdered.”

“Now is he the Butcher?” Vicky asked her computer.

“That only starts the story. Seven of his guards, likely not the ones who killed the young women, were found dead two nights later. Topalski pulled seven hundred people off the street, lined them up against the nearest walls, and machine-gunned them. Since he sent his death squads through the financial district during lunch hour, included among the dead were quite a few leaders of Dresden’s business community.”

“How’d that go over?” Captain Bolesław asked.

“Very well for him. He bought up a major part of the holdings from families that lost their loved ones in that slaughter, but that came later. Three days later, a bomb went off at a club frequented by redcoat noncommissioned officers. Twenty-two died.”

“Did he kill one hundred for every one of them?” Vicky asked.

“One thousand for each. Included was a football stadium where a national championship was being played. He sent helicopters over to drop explosives and gasoline on the bleachers. When survivors tried to flee, he had machine gunners waiting for them at the exits. Those that survived by hiding among the dead were then gunned down by his guards. The tally from the stadium did not come to twenty-two thousand, so they pulled people off random buses to fill out the quota.”

“Good God,” Captain Bolesław muttered. Vicky glanced around the bridge: Jaws had gone slack and lips pale. The stern, battle-ready faces were slipping away.

“So his reign of terror cowed Dresden, made him a wealthy man off the plunder of those he slaughtered, and got him a dukedom,” Vicky said, then added, “and now he’s the one the Empress picks to soak St. Petersburg in blood.”

“It looks that way,” Captain Bolesław said.

Vicky knew the Empire would rise or fall on her next words. How she wished she had Kris Longknife at her elbow to give her a hint of what to say.

“He doesn’t get his hands on St. Petersburg,” Vicky said, biting her words off sharply. “Not on my watch. His bloody trail ends here. We
end
him here.”

She looked around the bridge. The future hung by a thin thread as those around her struggled between their fear of what they faced and their duty to those that they defended.

“He may be pretty proud of his record, murdering unarmed
civilians, but now he’s up against the Navy. Now he’s got a fight on his hands.”

“Yes,” hissed back at Vicky, and the bridge crew turned back to their work with a determined will.

“I thought we’d lost them,” Captain Bolesław whispered from behind his hand.

“They just needed a reminder of who they are. Can we beat that bastard?”

“That all depends on who he’s got behind him on that bridge and what he’s got on that poor benighted soul.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

CHAPTER 33

E
XACTLY
five minutes from when he cut the commlink, Giorgio’s sneering face was back on the screen.

“I will take your surrender now.”

Vicky stood to face him. “We will blow you to hell.”

“Be careful what you say, little girl. This is your last chance to surrender. If you don’t, we will take no prisoners when we blow your little toy out of space. St. Petersburg will be next. I do not intend to occupy it. Too many troublemakers there. We’ll blast its cities from orbit, and when they are begging for us to land, maybe we will. Maybe we’ll give them a chance to see that we enjoy our visit with no complaining from the survivors.”

He seemed to be really enjoying his fantasy.

“You get to them through us,” Vicky said, heat tempering each of her words. “Know this: Your threats can come back at you. We will give no quarter, either. The crew of your ships can rise up and toss you out the air locks now, or they can die with you. The choice is theirs.”

In the background, Vicky could make out a few bridge personnel in Navy ship suits. Several of them faltered in their work as her words struck home.

“You know you’re going to lose this fight,” she added.
“This idiot had us outnumbered three to one in battleships and cruisers, but he had to come charging down at us alone. He gave us a fair fight. How stupid can you get?”

Now the officers on that bridge were glancing around at each other. A short, thin man wearing captain’s stripes stepped into view. “She may be a ‘little girl,’ but she spotted the mistake I told you you were making.”

Giorgio waved his hand dismissively. From off screen came two shots; the captain’s head exploded, and he dropped. Giorgio wiped blood and gray matter from the sleeve of his red coat. “That’s what happens to those who cross me. Who’s next?”

No one on the bridge said a word.

“I mean who’s next to run this shit hole of a boat?”

A tall commander stepped forward. His face was unreadable.

“Blow those rebels out of my space,” the redcoat snapped.

“Yes, sir,” the commander said, dispassionately, and the commlink was cut.

Vicky found she’d forgotten to breathe. Now she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before sitting down and turning to Captain Bolesław. “Do you know those two Navy officers?”

“The captain was a friend of mine, only a class behind me. The commander, I know of. Both are good ship drivers. Likely, they know something about fighting a ship.”

“And even more likely, their wives and families are under lockdown by redcoat thugs.”

“We couldn’t all get our families out of the Empress’s grasp,” the captain said.

“Captain,” came from Lieutenant Blue, “the
Empress’s Revenge
is putting on battle revolutions. She’s shimmying. No, they’ve gone back to a steady boat. One of the cruisers had to steady back down as well, but the others are working their way up to twenty RPMs.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Comm, send to fleet, begin battle RPMs smartly on my mark.”

A moment later communications reported, “All ships have reported ready for battle RPMs, sir.”

“Helm?”

“Ready upon your mark.”

“Comm, send my mark.”

“Mark sent.”

Around Vicky,
Retribution
began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until the bridge was spinning at twenty revolutions per minute. Vicky cinched herself tight into her high-gee station. Beneath her, the battleship spun but stayed steady as a rock.

“Good girl,” Captain Bolesław was heard to mutter as he patted the side of his battle board.

“The fleet has come up to battle RPMs smartly,” Lieutenant Blue reported. “Not a burble,” he added.

Captain Bolesław grinned. “Let those redcoats see how the real Navy handles itself.”

Vicky grinned, too. “It’s always impressive when professionals do it the right way. It’s intimidating to amateurs who don’t have a clue.”

“So quoteth we Admiral Krätz,” Captain Bolesław agreed.

“I may have spoken too soon,” Lieutenant Blue said, painfully. “The
Slinger
just sloughed off a chunk of her ice armor and is killing her RPMs as fast as she can. She lost more chunks of ice while she was steadying up.”

“Tell Captain Mason to get his damage control out there and patch that armor. No, Comm, belay last message. He knows what he needs to do as well as I do. Damn. I thought we could trust the repairs High Brunswick made better than that.”

“They may just be out of practice,” Vicky said.

“Yeah, aren’t we all. Comm, send to
Slinger
. ‘Conform your course to the merchants’ line.’”

“Will do,
Retribution
. Sorry about this. I thought the yard assured us of its high quality a bit too much. We’ve got every hand I can spare out filling in the holes in our armor. I’ll be back in the battle line as soon as I can manage.”

“I’d expect no less from
Slinger
,” Captain Bolesław said.

“Did I speak too soon about our bloody-handed duke getting himself in over his head?” Vicky asked.

“It is starting to look more like two-to-one odds than it did before,” the skipper admitted.

One of the cruisers remaining with
Retribution
pulled ahead. Now they mirrored the hostiles approaching them. A destroyer led a cruiser followed by the
Empress’s Revenge
and
Empress’s Vengeance
. The other cruiser and destroyer trailed the battleships.

“He is concentrating his heavies on
Retribution
,” Captain Bolesław said softly.

“Is that the duke or your commander or some other Navy officer?” Vicky asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s going to cause me pain. If I concentrate
Retribution
on
Revenge
, I can hurt her, but that will leave
Vengeance
unmolested. If I concentrate the cruisers on their opposite number, they can get in some licks, but if our fight ends with those two battleships still punching, my cruisers are dead.”

“Are their cruisers carrying 8-inch or 9.2-inch lasers?” Vicky asked.

“Lieutenant Blue, you have not been earning your pay. What sort of guns are those ships carrying?”

“I was afraid you would ask,” the lieutenant on sensors answered.

“And why might you have that fear?”

“I’m getting more jamming than I’ve ever had from Navy ships, sir. I’ve said their reactors seem to be about the same power as ours, but I can’t make out the make or model. Same for the lasers and capacitors. Either they’ve been built with systems that aren’t in our book, or something is making hash out of the signals I’m taking off them.”

“Have you heard anything about the Empress building an entirely new fleet of ships?” Captain Bolesław asked Vicky.

“There are supposed to be a pair of new huge battleships building, but only two, not three,” Vicky said. “Everything else I’ve heard involves them snatching active ships from the fleet. Also, the new ships were supposed to get captains from outside the Greenfeld fleet. You knew the
Empress’s Revenge
’s skipper and XO. I don’t think those are the Empress’s new toys. So, what is our bloody duck trying to hide?”

“They could be hiding things just for the sake of hiding?” Lieutenant Blue said, eyeing his boards dubiously, much like Vicky was eyed when she claimed innocence.

“Is there any chance that the duke was not talking to us from the lead battleship?” Captain Bolesław asked.

“I thought for sure he was,” the lieutenant said, looking up.

“If I concentrate
Retribution
on
Revenge
, and he’s on
Vengeance
, I may blow up the one ship I can get for sure but not get the one man I have to kill.”

Lieutenant Blue worried his lower lip and started rerunning the communications they had tracked so far, both those to the destroyer that blew up the
Pride of Darby
and the two threats they’d gotten from the duke.