starships—but Hebrides had been attacked several times. It hadn’t been until the Royal Tyre Navy had established a permanent presence in the system that attacks had died away, leaving a legacy of bloody slaughter and slavery. No one from the XO’s homeworld would show any mercy to pirates.
Nor will I, Kat thought.
But she knew she had permission to offer the pirates their lives in exchange for information. Life on Nightmare would be far from fun—the last report had suggested the exiles had set up small communities and were raiding each other—but it wasn’t death.
We need the intelligence only they can provide, she reminded herself as she looked back at the holographic display. The red icon representing the pirate ship was drawing closer, while a wave of distortion was coming into view ahead of the convoy. Letting them keep their lives is a small price for actionable intelligence.
Kat gritted her teeth as the distortion washed closer. If she’d been in command of the pirate ship, she would open communications once the distortion was close enough to make it difficult to signal Lightning. They’d get their threats in first, followed by promises few spacers would believe. But if the crew refused to cooperate, the pirates could simply launch a missile barrage and blow their ships into atoms, even though it would gain the attackers nothing. There was hope, their victims might think, even if the pirates took them as slaves.
She shuddered at the thought. She’d seen pirate slaves—men and women liberated after HMS Thomas had captured a pirate base. They’d been broken beyond repair. The lucky ones had skills the pirates could use, so they’d been press-ganged into joining pirate crews, but the unlucky ones had been raped, then put to work as manual laborers. Human slavery and trafficking was alive and well on the edge of explored space, despite the best efforts of the more civilized powers. Even the Theocracy cooperated when it came to hunting down pirates.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Ross said, “I’m picking up a tight-beam radio signal.”
“Put it through,” Kat ordered.
“. . . under the guns of a warship,” a harsh male voice said. There was so much static that it was hard, even with computer enhancement, to be entirely sure they were hearing the entire message. “You are ordered to cut your drives and prepare to be boarded. Do not attempt to alert any other ship in your convoy. If you cooperate, your lives will be spared.”
Kat’s lips twitched. Few spacers would believe promises from pirates. If she’d been a merchant skipper, she might just have tried to ram the pirate ship. It wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of working in real space, but it would definitely have had a chance in hyperspace. And even if it failed, the pirates would have been forced to blow their own prize rather than take it intact. It might cost them dearly, in the long run. Pirate economics demanded a constant supply of prizes just to feed their market.
“Tell them that we will cooperate,” she said, “as long as our lives are spared.”
Her smile grew wider. “And try to sound scared when you say it,” she added. “Let them think we’re feeling vulnerable.”
She could imagine the reaction on the pirate ship as someone young, female, and apparently helpless begged for mercy. They’d probably find it funny, she knew, as well as a lure pulling them closer. If their crew hadn’t been psychotic before they’d boarded their ship, they probably would be by now. Some of the men they’d tried to rescue, the ones who had been forced to work onboard the pirate ships, had been just as bad as their enslavers by the time they’d been found. Others had zoned out completely.
“They’re ordering us to fall back from the convoy slowly,” Lieutenant Ross reported. “And not to signal anyone else.”
“Unsurprising,” Kat commented. She looked at the helmsman. “Comply with their directive. And remember we’re
Nor will I, Kat thought.
But she knew she had permission to offer the pirates their lives in exchange for information. Life on Nightmare would be far from fun—the last report had suggested the exiles had set up small communities and were raiding each other—but it wasn’t death.
We need the intelligence only they can provide, she reminded herself as she looked back at the holographic display. The red icon representing the pirate ship was drawing closer, while a wave of distortion was coming into view ahead of the convoy. Letting them keep their lives is a small price for actionable intelligence.
Kat gritted her teeth as the distortion washed closer. If she’d been in command of the pirate ship, she would open communications once the distortion was close enough to make it difficult to signal Lightning. They’d get their threats in first, followed by promises few spacers would believe. But if the crew refused to cooperate, the pirates could simply launch a missile barrage and blow their ships into atoms, even though it would gain the attackers nothing. There was hope, their victims might think, even if the pirates took them as slaves.
She shuddered at the thought. She’d seen pirate slaves—men and women liberated after HMS Thomas had captured a pirate base. They’d been broken beyond repair. The lucky ones had skills the pirates could use, so they’d been press-ganged into joining pirate crews, but the unlucky ones had been raped, then put to work as manual laborers. Human slavery and trafficking was alive and well on the edge of explored space, despite the best efforts of the more civilized powers. Even the Theocracy cooperated when it came to hunting down pirates.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Ross said, “I’m picking up a tight-beam radio signal.”
“Put it through,” Kat ordered.
“. . . under the guns of a warship,” a harsh male voice said. There was so much static that it was hard, even with computer enhancement, to be entirely sure they were hearing the entire message. “You are ordered to cut your drives and prepare to be boarded. Do not attempt to alert any other ship in your convoy. If you cooperate, your lives will be spared.”
Kat’s lips twitched. Few spacers would believe promises from pirates. If she’d been a merchant skipper, she might just have tried to ram the pirate ship. It wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of working in real space, but it would definitely have had a chance in hyperspace. And even if it failed, the pirates would have been forced to blow their own prize rather than take it intact. It might cost them dearly, in the long run. Pirate economics demanded a constant supply of prizes just to feed their market.
“Tell them that we will cooperate,” she said, “as long as our lives are spared.”
Her smile grew wider. “And try to sound scared when you say it,” she added. “Let them think we’re feeling vulnerable.”
She could imagine the reaction on the pirate ship as someone young, female, and apparently helpless begged for mercy. They’d probably find it funny, she knew, as well as a lure pulling them closer. If their crew hadn’t been psychotic before they’d boarded their ship, they probably would be by now. Some of the men they’d tried to rescue, the ones who had been forced to work onboard the pirate ships, had been just as bad as their enslavers by the time they’d been found. Others had zoned out completely.
“They’re ordering us to fall back from the convoy slowly,” Lieutenant Ross reported. “And not to signal anyone else.”
“Unsurprising,” Kat commented. She looked at the helmsman. “Comply with their directive. And remember we’re
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