Rebel by Mike Shepherd Page B

to eat its own,” Vicky muttered, doing her best to suppress thoughts about just how hellish it had always been.
    “But how can we put all of this to our own ends?” the captain said, rubbing his chin.
    “The good Count Korbinian has got himself far out on a limb and sawn it at least halfway through,” Vicky said. “He can’t afford to fail this assignment, or they will hand him his head.”
    “Apparently literally.”
    “No doubt, in that court,” Vicky agreed.
    “He’s under pressure.”
    Vicky grinned. “Let’s raise that pressure. Lieutenant Blue, can you tell us more about this fellow?”
    “He’s pretty bland. He seems to have enjoyed killing State Security commanders rather gruesomely and sending video back to the palace.”
    “Sadistic twit,” the captain muttered.
    “Oh, when he acquired Karenhall, he seems to have also gotten a string of polo ponies. He likes to win. He actually shot a pony that failed him once.”
    “Quite a temper,” the captain observed.
    “We will have to make him lose it,” Vicky said.

CHAPTER 16
 
    V ICKY didn’t get a chance to try her hand with Count Korbinian until they were almost to the orbits of Brunswick’s two small moons. Her computer had taken a quiet moment to bring Vicky up to date on the fellow. His last name, Corbin, meant little crow or raven. He’d chosen the old Frankish German form of that name for his noble name.
    Either way, he was a carrion eater, surviving off the rotten meat of those he’d killed.
    What say we leave you rotting by the road this time?
    Vicky was coming back from a light supper. She dropped by her stateroom and collected her high-gee station. If things got exciting—and she expected they would—she wanted to be prepared.
    Kit and Kat had it tuned up, recharged, and waiting.
    “Thanks, girls,” Vicky said, giving them a kiss.
    “Have no fear, Your Grace. We will be here when you come back, and you can give us more than a peck on the cheek.”
    With that, they sent their warrior on her way.
    No surprise; as Vicky motored onto the bridge, much of the watch was either in a high-gee station or had one parked close by. Even the skipper.
    “My, Your Grace, you are getting quite adept at this Navy Way.”
    “I’m getting quite adept at staying alive,” she growled.
    “Either one works for me.”
    Their comradely chatter was interrupted as the main screen came alive.
    There stood Count Korbinian, in all his red, gold, and silver glory, on the bridge of a warship. Captain Bolesław’s softly whispered “Oh, Engle, my lad, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” suggested that it was his friend standing a bit back from Korbinian and the ship must be the Reprisal nee Savage .
    “You should have taken my warning. Now I will slaughter you. I take no prisoners.”
    Captain Bolesław raised an eyebrow. Vicky sighed and moved to take center stage before the main screen. “Put me on screen,” she said.
    “We are no threat to Brunswick,” Vicky said, evenly. “We come bearing trading goods, escorting a convoy of merchant ships through the snares of pirates.”
    “We have no trade with outies,” the Count spat, then seemed to blink twice and look hard at Vicky.
    “You’re the outlaw who sometimes styles herself the Grand Duchess Victoria.”
    “I am the Grand Duchess Victoria. And I am no outlaw.”
    “Yes, you are. You’ve been proclaimed outlaw by the Empress’s edict.”
    “But not by the Emperor’s decree. I am called to court, and I come.”
    “Like hell you do. Not on a battleship.” Then Kurt seemed to see his salvation handed to him on a platter. “Or maybe you’d send those battleships away and come alongside the station in a shuttle.”
    “Not even a captain’s gig?” Vicky said.
    “Gig, barge, boat,” Count Korbinian spat. “What do I care so long as you come here unarmed?”
    Behind him, several Navy types failed to keep scowls from flitting across their Navy-bland faces as the little Lord