If you don’t get the Hegemony’s first strike force blasted to bits by those escorts…

  He was edgy about his peoples’ ability to evade heavy defensive fire, and each time he redid his estimates, he cut down the time for the Rim ships to arrive. His fighters had mostly expended their rockets, which meant the rest of the slaughter would be achieved by lasers, a slower way to hunt down the cumbersome enemy bombers.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t finish off the targeted bomber wings, but it did mean the enemy escorts would get there while his people were still engaged.

  * * *

  Stockton stared at the screen, and for an instant, the blackness that had almost consumed him receded. He knew the Rim battleships weren’t going to come to his rescue. Risking the battle line against something like Colossus was unthinkable, even though the war against the Hegemony had turned many old axioms on their heads. Fighters were far more important in the current conflict than they’d ever been before, but their launch platforms still held primacy in the hierarchy, if only because of the vast time and resources required to replace lost battleships.

  Still, his mind flailed around for hope, and he found some, though he wasn’t sure if it was real or imagined. The fleet’s escort ships were moving forward, even as he watched. It was a promise of help, if nothing else. If they could get there in time.

  That’s on you. You’ve got to keep your people alive long enough…

  Hundreds of his people were dead already, and even as he watched the escorts moving forward, he was wildly maneuvering his own ship in throes of desperate battle. He’d evaded no fewer than three of the enemy rockets, and he’d found them to be unsettlingly difficult to shake, especially with the cumbersome bombing kit in place.

  He’d shouted out what directions and commands he could to the squadrons nearest him, hounding his pilots, guiding them, berating them. Anything he thought might help them, might get at least part of his force through the nightmare enveloping them all. But in truth, for all his experience, for the almost overpowering legend that had grown up around him, Stockton didn’t know what to do.

  And he hated himself for it.

  His body swung hard as he lurched his ship to the side, blasting his thrust at full, first on one vector, and then on an almost opposite one. There was a crazy randomness to his maneuvers, one that kept him away from the two fighters trying to stay on his tail and bring their lasers to bear.

  At least the enemy seemed to be out of rockets. The accuracy and power of their primary ship-to-ship weapons had been unsettling, and they’d put aside any hopes he might have had in the inferiority of the Hegemony’s first strike force. Their ships were good, and the rockets were better. If they had a weakness, it was the inexperience of their pilots, but with every ship he had burdened with a double bombing kit, it was almost irrelevant. The bombers weren’t simply difficult to maneuver. The second payload come at another cost, the removal even of the small and difficult to use lasers the ships normally carried. Even if his pilots could overcome the maneuverability deficit, they didn’t have anything to fire at the enemy. And throwing rocks wasn’t exactly practical in space combat.

  Stockton jerked his throttle hard to the side again, watching another dozen of his ships go down on the screen as he did. He felt a burst of rage, partially at the enemy…and partially at his own dead pilots for not trying harder, not staying focused. Not remembering what he had taught them. He didn’t feel good about himself for anger at now-dead pilots, but there didn’t seem to be any point in self-delusion. Not when the end seemed so close.

  He swung the controls again, then once more almost immediately. He had six enemy ships on him now, coming in from different vectors. It had been years since he’d last been in a dogfight, but the old skills were still there. He’d have had a chance, even against the odds he faced, if only he had a weapon to use, a way to take down his pursuers. But all he could do was run, and hope his frantic maneuvers somehow got him all the way back to Dauntless.

  He gave himself about even money. That was upsetting enough, but if he was in that much trouble, what chance did his thousands of pilots have?

  He started to try to calculate them, but then he clamped down hard on the thought. It could only distract him when he needed everything he had.

  Maybe there was some use for self-delusion after all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Spacer’s District

  Port Royal City

  Dannith, Ventica III

  Year 321 AC

  “Don’t move, Yantis. Don’t look behind you, don’t cry out, don’t even make a face. You know my voice—yes, it’s me, I’m here. And you know me well enough to realize I’ve got my pistol pointing right at you. The last time I missed from this range, I was six years old. Or was I five?”

  It took all Andi could muster to force such cocky arrogance into her tone. In truth, her pistol was thousands of kilometers away, in Pegasus’s weapons locker, up in planetary orbit. She had nothing but a finger pointed at the once-powerful gangster she was threatening. Yantis wouldn’t have been her first choice for a mark—far too violent by nature—but she’d found the pickings to be slim. Most of her old contacts were in dep hiding…or worse. She was sure she could find some of them given enough time, but that was one thing she didn’t have. Colossus was likely raging through Confederation space, pushing Tyler closer and closer to a desperate—and probably suicidal—final battle, and Pegasus was hiding in orbit, risking detection at any time. She was also in constant danger of drawing attention to herself, of winding up in an enemy prison, or worse. She had to find out what she’d come for—something, anything—useful for the fleet to face Colossus. If that meant threatening one of the most cantankerous, dangerous mobsters in the Spacer’s District, and doing it with her finger posing as a gun, so be it.

  “Andi Lafarge, what the hell are you doing back here with us poor, occupied scum? Word is, you made a big score and left us all behind, without even a fare thee well, or a round of drinks for old friends. Folks say you spend your days threatening your servants like you used to do with my boys.” There was a combination of resentment and respect in his tone. Andi had made more than a few enemies in her rise from obscurity, but even those with whom she’d clashed understood she had a sort of rogue’s honor. As grouchy and ill-tempered as she herself could be, she kept her word, and that had given her a sort of credibility among those who prowled around the District’s shadowy back alleys.

  “Well, I’m here now Yantis, so I guess you’ll have to make of it whatever you can.”

  “Maybe it was all bullshit. Maybe you just scored enough for a binge and a bender…and you were back ready to head out again when the Heggies got here.” The gangster’s scratchy voice paused. “But that’s been years now, and I ain’t seen a sign of you in all that time.”

  “It seems like you’re still in business, at least. Though things seem pretty lean around here.”

  “I do what I can, but the damned Kriegeri keep a close eye on things. I was keeping the ship afloat for a while with the Blast trade, but that all ran out maybe two years back. Since then, things have been really tight.”

  Andi’s teeth ground together, and her hand tensed. If she’d actually had her pistol, she put it about even money she’d have shot the bastard between the eyes, and damned the consequences. The Confederation’s most notorious drug had cost her the first real friend she’d ever had. But she regained control over herself. There was no time for personal rage, not then. Not when Tyler and the fleet—and the entire Rim—were at stake.

  “Well, you’re in luck, Yantis, my old friend.” ‘Friend’ was an exaggeration of course, but Andi figured she’d never killed the bastard, so that was close enough.

  “There ain’t been much of that around here for a long time. What kind of luck?”

  “Half a million credits in pure, untraceable platinum.” She’d hid the coins the best she could. She figured she could handle an enemy like Yantis, even without her pistol, but fighting only risked drawing attention from the Kriegeri. Besides, Yantis almost certainly had some of his people still with him. She might be able to fight him off, but if half a dozen thugs came at her all at once…

  Better to have the coin stashed away somewhere. Less temptation for lowlifes like Yantis. Besides, even if she could handle the gangsters, fighting was probably the fastest way to attract a Hegemony patrol.

  “Half a million…there ain’t been that kind of scratch around here since the occupation.” A pause. “Got it with you?”

  “On me? You think I’d trust you with that kind of temptation? I’m thinking your crew’s smaller than it was, but I don’t believe for a second you couldn’t call in some kind of help. Of course, it wouldn’t save you, but that kind of money makes people do stupid shit, doesn’t it?”

  “So, what’s the deal? What do you want?”

  “Information.”

  “What…you mean old tech? How the hell are you going to get past the enemy and out into the Badlands, even if I had somewhere to tell you to look?”

  “No, not that kind of information. I want to know about the Hegemony forces. I want to know what they’re saying, maybe get some of their records or intercepts of their transmissions.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m still here because I give the Kriegeri a wide berth. You want me to spy on them?”

  Andi made a face. She didn’t doubt Yantis tried to keep as low a profile as he could, but she’d have bet her last credit he managed to keep some kind of tabs on the occupation forces. She didn’t like or trust the piece of filth, but she knew he was one of the smartest of his kind. He had contacts all over Port Royal City, or at least he had. She was willing to bet he still got at least a reasonably steady flow of information.

  And she wanted it all.

  “Well, if you don’t know anything, I guess we’re done here.” She moved her feet around, scraping her boots on the pavement, as if she was leaving.

  “Wait…”

  “Wait for what? You don’t know anything. I overestimated you, that’s all. Good luck, Yantis. With any luck, you’ll hang on to whatever scraps of your old operation remain. I’ve got to find someone who’s still connected and can get me what I need.”

  “Stay…I can help you.”

  “I need real information, Yantis…so don’t waste my damned time.”

  “I’m not wasting your time, Andi. I can help.”

  Andi wasn’t sure she believed him, but his tone sounded sincere. And, she wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with options.

  “Don’t even think about double-crossing me, Yantis.” Her voice was cold, the very essence of threatening.

  “No way, Andi, you can count on me…but I want to see the coin first.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I’m not some damned fool cherry in the District for the first time. You know me. When I say something, you can count on it.” She’d spent years of her life building up a reputation, for a quick temper, certainly, but also for reliability, for honesty. She’d never imagined using it in quite the way she was just then, though.

  “I want fifty thousand upfront…I’ll take that as proof the rest of it’s legit.” Andi was about to refuse, when she suddenly realized Yantis needed the money to get the information. He would never admit that to her, of course, but she was close to certain. Things are worse here than I’d imagined.

  “Okay, today’s your lucky day, Yantis, but that’s the last favor you’re going to get. I’ll meet you tomorrow, at the usual place. Same time. And no guards, no thugs. Just you and me, you understand? I see one of your apes anywhere, I’m gone.” She hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. “And, I swear to you, Yantis, if you send anyone to follow me out of here trying to find out where I’ve got the swag hidden, I’ll gut the bastard top to bottom…and then I’ll come for you next, and you’ll get it worse. You hear me?”

  “Alright, Andi. No tails. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning. And be careful, the night patrols are a lot heavier than the daytime ones, and there’s a curfew after dark. Keep your ass hidden, or you’ll end up in a Kriegeri prison cell where you can’t do either one of us any good.”

  * * *

  “Kiloron, platform A-3 reports renewed sporadic scanner contact. They haven’t been able to triangulate on anything, but this is the third sensor shadow they’ve recorded.”

  Taragir turned and looked over toward the officer. It was the late-night shift—not that such a thing really mattered on an orbital platform—but Taragir’s staff was the lowest-rated in the rotation. With Kriegeri, such designations usually indicated less experienced personnel rather than shirkers or cowards, and so it was with the control center crew. Kriegeri were all well trained before they began active duty, but they were still green when they first took up their posts, and one common trait was overreacting to unimportant things. Taragir didn’t think there was anything hiding in Dannith orbit, but he was enough of a professional to follow up on any irregularities.

  “Increase scanner power to eighty percent. Perform a focused sweep at one-quarter speed.” That would take a couple hours, maybe more. But it was about the best he could do to ensure there was nothing out there.

  “Yes, Kiloron.”

  Taragir leaned back in his chair, his mind slipping into deeper thoughts. He’d have requested a flight of escorts to do a flyby and doublecheck the area, but the fleet took most of the available frigates when it left, and every ship that remained was on a fixed patrol vector. He almost contacted his superior, but he held back. Flin was a Master, and not a particularly patient one at that. Waking him up to report some junior officer’s phantom contact, with no real evidence to back it up, was certain to be an unpleasant experience.

  I will wait, at least until we pick up some kind of confirmation.

  He pushed it aside, but it was still there, nagging at him, the thought, the chance, however small, that there really was something out there.

  * * *

  Andi dropped down against the crumbling masonry wall and sucked in a deep breath. She was soaked in sweat, and now that she was no longer running, the cold quickly set in, and she began to shiver. She was pretty sure she’d shaken the two Kriegeri. She didn’t know if she’d done something to make the two soldiers suspicious or if her luck had simply run out, but she’d only been a meter past them when one of them turned around and ordered her to stop. She’d told herself she could talk her way out of trouble, but the trooper shattered that confidence with a single demand.

  “Your ID card,” he’d snapped out, in a voice that edged between nasty and professional.

  Her mind raced. Had the occupiers issued ID cards to planetary residents? It seemed a reasonable enough possibility.

  Might have been nice if Yantis could have mentioned that…

  Of course, she hadn’t told the gangster she’d just snuck back to Dannith. He had likely rationalized her presence by assuming she’d simply been in hiding the whole time. And that served her purpose well enough. She didn’t trust Yantis, not a bit, and she preferred to avoid the risk he’d betray her to the authorities, a danger that would be greatly compounded if the gangster knew her presence was related to the war effort, to information of military value to the occupiers.

  She hadn’t come to Dannith to get captured, but even less to get her people killed or taken prisoner. If the Hegemony forces realized she’d somehow slipped through the system and down to the planet, they’d go crazy searching everywhere they could. She knew the stealth unit on Pegasus was a dicey thing to rely on in the best of circumstances. A wholesale search effort would be far from that, and much closer to the worst. The enemy had been improving their scanning techniques, and if they looked hard enough, they’d probably find the ship. Better that everyone thought she’d been trapped on Dannith during the invasion, and that she’d been in hiding since then.

  She looked over toward the battered wall, and the opening she’d come through. One side was nothing but broken concrete, but the other retained the remnants of what had once been a door. The building looked as though it had been the scene of fighting during the invasion, but Andi knew the place well, and it hadn’t looked much better before the Hegemony had arrived. The Spacer’s District had possessed its own sort of prosperity, split between something like evenly between legal and illegal enterprises, but it had always looked worn down, not a ghetto like the one she’d been born in, not quite. But still rough, with more than one abandoned structure, especially on the less-traveled side streets.

  It wasn’t the safest place to hide her stash, maybe, but it was the best one she could think of. The banks, even the shadiest ones that had dealt with Badlands adventurers and District criminals, were all closed down. Whatever system the Hegemony used to distribute food and control the population, Confederation currency wasn’t part of it. She’d brought platinum coin because it was private, untraceable, but also because it was the only way to make payments on occupied Dannith, for services legal or otherwise.

  What even is legal now? The old laws, the ones that had so often targeted her and her kind, didn’t apply anymore. That didn’t mean things were any freer, quite the contrary she was sure, but it did mean they were different.

  She checked the entrance one last time, pausing for a few seconds to listen for anyone approaching. Then she slid a heavy chunk of concrete to the side, revealing a small area of fresh dirt. She grabbed the twisted piece of metal she’d used a few days before to dig the hole, and she uncovered the sacks of platinum coins she’d hidden there. She reached down, pushing her hand into the top bag, and she pulled out a handful.

  Fifty thousand…upfront. With a weaselly piece of slime like Yantis…

  She didn’t like it, not at all. But even as her natural suspicions kicked in, she realized it made sense. She’d never have given the gangster that much money upfront—or any money at all. She had a reputation of her own, and that should have been enough. But things had changed, and she figured it was actually useful for Yantis to see that she had the funds, to purge any doubts from his mind. She wanted him hooked, his greed serving her purposes. It would make it less likely he’d turn her in to the Hegemony authorities.