Lords of Space (Starship Blackbeard Book 2) Read online

Tolvern blinked. “Mary Elliot? She was my sister’s best friend growing up!”

  “Yes, I know. That’s what my father kept reminding me. A classmate of his steward’s daughter. Her father a shopkeeper and her mother a hospital nurse. Marianne Elliot was hardly a high-born lady. Not fit to be a match for a baron’s son, even a baron with such minor holdings as my father’s.”

  Tolvern was surprised at the turn of jealousy deep in her gut, and she fought it down. Why should that matter to her? She had nothing against Mary Elliot or her family. Mary had been a pleasant girl, reasonably attractive and with a bright, sparkling wit. Strong willed and fiercely ambitious, given where she’d started in life.

  “Rather funny thing,” Drake said. “Did your sister tell you what became of Mary?”

  “Went to York after finishing her studies, that’s the last I heard. After that?” Tolvern shook her head.

  “Mary borrowed a sum of money and started a business. Got involved in politics after the parliamentary crisis. There’s word she’s going to stand for a position in the House of Commons next year.”

  “Really? Then I guess your father would really disapprove now. Your grandfather was in the House of Lords, wasn’t he?”

  “Not so fast,” Drake said with a smile. “Mary must have made a fortune in the trades, or she couldn’t afford to stand for parliament. We’re a small barony, barely solvent. Money would trump breeding, and even politics, in my father’s eyes.”

  “Then you still think you might . . . ?”

  “What? No, that ship has sailed, as the old saying has it. She married a gentleman from Britain. They have a child together.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. But surely there are other prospects for a man of your breeding and accomplishments.”

  “I have had none.”

  She scoffed. “I can’t believe that.”

  “It’s my own decision, of course. I haven’t put myself in the proper situations—balls and dinners on Albion, I mean. I was busy and not given to seeking temporary company in distant ports, as some are wont to do. Of course I have the same desires as any other man.”

  “However?”

  Drake gave an affected shrug. “The navy has been my lover.”

  “She’s a fickle mistress.”

  “Yes, quite.” He drank the last of his port. “And not nearly so warm in bed as a woman.”

  Tolvern glanced at her empty glass and wished she’d had one more drink to steel her courage. The captain had loved a commoner, he had expressed his loneliness, his desire to share pleasure with a woman. James Drake was a man lacking in artifice; she did not think he had invited her here with the intent of seducing her. Nevertheless, here she was, and the opportunity was full in her hands to press herself upon him. Would he refuse her if she made a move?

  “Enough of my troubles, Commander Tolvern.”

  “Jess,” she reminded him. “We were going to use proper names tonight, remember?”

  “Yes, sorry. Jess. Old habits, you understand. Quite difficult to shift one’s preconceived understanding of a person.”

  That punctured her courage. “Yes, true. Well, I suppose I should be going.”

  “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out very well. I’ve always thought highly of you, of your family. What I meant is that I see you as an officer, my very competent second in command, and it’s unusual to see you on a private basis, even one so harmless as this. I hope I didn’t offend you just now.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” she said quickly. “I understand perfectly what you meant and what you didn’t mean. It’s just that I’m on my last sleep cycle before the jump, and I want to come through well rested. Thank you for a most excellent meal, and for the conversation. I would be happy to do it again whenever you need company.”

  “There is one thing you could do for me before you go back to your rooms,” Drake said. “Ensign Capp is also off shift. Could you take her to the mess and buy her a drink?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, I know you’re tired, but could you?”

  “First, dinner with the captain, and then, drinks with the subpilot?” she said in a light tone. “That’s a lot of fraternizing for one night. Anyway, I’m not sure another drink would be a good idea. I’m rather lightheaded as it is.”

  “A cup of tea, then. It’s not for the sake of camaraderie. I need information, and I think you’re the best person to dig for it. Seems you and Capp formed a rapport in San Pablo, a friendship of sorts.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. More like a cordial partnership.” Tolvern hesitated. “What kind of information do you need?”

  “Barker has completed a full scan of the ship. He insists there is no bug, no tracking device on board. Nothing sending out an illicit signal. Could be that he’s mistaken, that one of Rodriguez’s engineers buried an object deep in the hull when we were in the yards for repairs, but Barker is absolutely confident. The alternative is that Catarina Vargus lied to me, that she found us in the old-fashioned way—someone told her how to find us. Is still telling her.”

  “And you think it’s Capp?”

  “Not necessarily. Forced to hazard a guess, I would say one of the pirates we picked up on San Pablo. But they were recruited by Capp and Carvalho, who may know something. I trust Capp more than her lover, and so there you have it. Will you talk to her?”

  “Yes, of course, but I thought you’d decided to meet with the pirate’s daughter, anyway.”

  “I have, yes. I’m curious, and it’s a good way to stall Nyb Pim about this antidote thing.”

  “The scientist from Hot Barsa, this Noah Brockett fellow, he’s all set up in the lab?”

  “Getting there,” Drake said. “It won’t be long.”

  Tolvern circled back to Capp. “But I guess you’ll want to find out anyway. Be helpful to know what Catarina Vargus does or doesn’t know, regardless of what she tells us when we get there.”

  “Exactly.”

  “In that case, sure, I’ll talk to Capp. I don’t fully understand the woman, but I know she won’t turn down a free drink.” Tolvern rose to her feet. “Thanks again for the dinner, James.”

  “You’re more than welcome. But I suppose we should go back to ‘Captain’ and ‘Commander’ now. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

  “No, I guess we wouldn’t.”

  #

  Tolvern felt deflated as she walked to the lift. How was it that she felt more lonely now than before she’d had dinner with the captain? He had been accommodating, friendly, complimentary. And he hadn’t invited Barker to dinner, or Nyb Pim. She was the one he’d chosen to open up to. So why was she so down?

  Because there’s no pretending any longer, that’s why.

  There it was. Her heart had leaped when Drake confessed his loneliness. Was he, could he possibly be talking about her? She’d been so willing to throw herself on him and so embarrassed when it was clear that no, he hadn’t been even slightly interested, that it was impossible any longer to avoid the obvious.

  “I’m in love with the captain,” she whispered to herself as the lift doors closed with her inside.

  How ridiculous was that? She may as well have been a child daydreaming in the back of the class about her father’s young master and doodling on her notebook: “Lady Jessica Drake” with a big heart around it. But he’d fallen in love with Marianne Elliot, hadn’t he? She was a commoner too, and not so beautiful or accomplished (well, back when it happened) that it was impossible to imagine him doing it again.

  There was the small matter of fraternization, of course. Captain Drake’s opinion on that subject was well known.

  Tolvern looked first in the mess, supposing that Capp was already at the bar, drinking and carousing with her friends. But she was not there. A couple of quick calls confirmed that Capp was not on the bridge, either, nor in engineering or the gunnery. She must be enjoying the solitude of her room, perhaps even napping off schedule, and so Tolvern made her way to the officer berths above t
he bridge. She knocked gently.

  “Yeah, who is it?” came Capp’s low York accent from the other side of the door.

  “It’s me, Tolvern. You have a minute?”

  “Important, is it?”

  “I wouldn’t have come to your room if it weren’t. Can I come in?”

  “Sure, I don’t mind, ’cept I’m lounging in my underwear.”

  “If it bothers you, then pull on some pants already.”

  “Don’t bother me if it don’t bother you.”

  The door opened, and Tolvern stepped inside. It closed behind her.

  “Actually,” Tolvern said, “if you want to get dressed, I’ll treat you to a drink in the mess. I haven’t used all my rations.”

  As she said this, her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she saw that Capp wasn’t alone. The woman stretched feline-like along her bed, wearing nothing but panties and a camisole that barely contained her straining breasts. Carvalho sprawled behind her, his back pressed against the wall so he’d fit on the narrow bed. A sheet covered him to his waist, but it left exposed his lean belly and his muscular chest with its dark curly hair.

  “Normally, that would sound pretty good,” Capp said. “I ain’t the sort to turn down a free drink, you know that. But I’m not sure I want to get up as of yet.”

  “You have company,” Tolvern said stupidly.

  “Aye. But he don’t mind, do you, luv?”

  Carvalho smirked his answer. “She can join us if she wants.”

  “Shut up, you.” Capp slapped his chest playfully. “And put your pants on, she don’t want to see you hangin’ out. Make room.”

  The room was only a few feet wide and barely long enough for a bed and a toilet. The air was close, with the musky smell of lovemaking. Tolvern wished she could simply melt through the door and back into the corridor.

  “We’ll talk later. It’s not important. Really, no,” Tolvern said to Carvalho, as he sat up and grabbed for his underwear at the foot of the bed. “Don’t trouble yourself.”

  She slapped open the door and fled into the hallway before she could see any more. The sight of Capp and Carvalho together on the bed, the scent in the room, his muscular body—it was all too much.

  Tolvern sent Drake a quick message as soon as she reached the safety of her room. Capp, she explained, had been in her room and not inclined to go out. Let the captain parse that sentence for meaning. But, Tolvern added, she would approach Capp again as soon as it was possible.

  Message sent, Tolvern undressed for bed. Her mind was still churning, her head light from the wine and brandy, as she turned off the lights and crawled under the sheets. She thought about the captain, remembered Carvalho lying half naked in bed. She was simultaneously horrified and aroused.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drake followed the pirate ship warily through the jump point. He emerged, stunned, on the other side, half expecting to find himself under attack from a motley fleet of pirate vessels left lurking there by Catarina Vargus in anticipation of his arrival. If he didn’t think his shields strong enough to weather a barrage and his engines powerful enough to quickly outrun any subsequent pursuit, he wouldn’t have risked it, the woman’s threats notwithstanding.

  As it was, there was nothing on the other side but Orient Tiger, Catarina Vargus’s pirate frigate, and she’d already set course and begun to accelerate. No hiding this time; Vargus apparently felt secure enough in the system to travel uncloaked, but not so secure that she wanted to linger in front of the jump point to see whatever ships might be following them through.

  Drake followed her for another seven hours, passing through an asteroid belt, before Orient Tiger slowed and eventually came to a stop within the ring of moons surrounding a purplish gas giant. There was a small mining colony on one of the moons, but Vargus seemed to know this as well and kept herself shielded from the moon on the far side of the planet.

  The pirate frigate hailed Blackbeard, and Drake opened a channel on the viewscreen. Catarina Vargus appeared. She wore her leather vest, partly unzipped, and the ruby pendant, which glowed blood red, throbbing under the reflected light of her console.

  Vargus smiled and didn’t look at all upset to see Drake on the other side.

  “James Drake. The man who killed my father.”

  “That was never my intention.”

  “Perhaps not, but it was inevitable when you pursued Captain Kidd and demanded her cargo. If you’d known my father at all, you’d have known that he would have never capitulated to such blunt tactics. That he’d have fought back, and when defeated, would have come seeking revenge.”

  It was the first time Drake had heard the woman’s voice, and his first thought was surprise that she sounded so cultured. Not like her father’s rough way of speaking. If he’d closed his eyes, he’d have thought her a lady from southern Britain. A woman of education and breeding, perhaps accomplished as a singer, given the smooth tone of her voice. Yet she so clearly looked like her father, with her bronze skin and flashing dark eyes. Only with better effect. She was a beautiful woman and seemed to know it.

  “If you’ve come for revenge, you’ll be quickly disabused of that hope,” he said.

  “Revenge?” Vargus laughed, and the sound was without malice. “No, I would thank you, if the circumstances were otherwise. Look at me now. I have my father’s old ship, my own crew.”

  “It’s not so powerful as Captain Kidd,” he reminded her.

  Her eyes flashed. “It was powerful enough to save your life. Now tell me why I should have bothered if you’re going to behave with ingratitude.”

  Drake wasn’t in the mood for verbal sparring. “What is it you want?”

  “Bluntly? To discuss your cargo and what you plan to do with it.”

  “What do you know of my cargo?”

  “You went to Hot Barsa for a reason. A good deal of effort to run those forts. Not once, but twice. I assume that whatever risk you took promised some reward of appropriate value.”

  “That’s my own business.”

  “Come, don’t be so hostile. I only want to discuss it. Why don’t you come over, alone, and we’ll speak one on one and see if we can come to an understanding.”

  “Why don’t you come here, instead, if your intentions are peaceful?”

  Vargus returned a grin, her teeth white and gleaming. “Because I don’t trust you, James Drake. Last time around, you were shooting my father in the back when he was trying to escape.”

  “As you might imagine, that incident makes me reluctant to put myself under your power.”

  “And as you might imagine, the reverse is also true. You’re a known pirate killer. I’m a known pirate.”

  “I’m not going over without some sort of security guarantee.”

  “Very well. How about this? I will leave my shields down and my batteries retracted so long as you are on my ship. As you seem delighted to point out, your vessel—what is it you’re calling it now, Blackbeard?—is more than strong enough to crush me in a fight. I would assume your crew could manage well enough whether you were on board or not.”

  Drake stroked his chin, thoughtful. “Give me fifteen minutes. You’ll have your answer then.”

  He cut the link and called Tolvern into the war room to discuss Catarina Vargus’s proposal. When the door closed, he turned to find her wearing a scowl so deep it may as well have been sandblasted there.

  “I don’t like it one bit.”

  Drake sat. “I can see that.” He gestured for her to take a seat.

  “So why are we discussing it?”

  “Because she saved us at Hot Barsa, because she knows something of our cargo. And because she has either bugged our ship, or she has someone on board feeding her information. Did you ever speak to Capp?”

  Tolvern shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable. “I did. First time I went down, she was indisposed. But we had breakfast together this morning. I put the question to her.”
/>
  “And? Is there a spy on board, someone giving Vargus information?”

  “Capp was evasive. I think she knows something, or at least suspects something. I mentioned Carvalho, and she grew especially elusive.”

  This was an irritating nugget of information and brought Capp’s loyalties into question. “If I could end that relationship, I would.”

  “You could kick Carvalho off the crew, but she’d go with him. Then you’d lose them both.”

  “I wouldn’t like it, but this current situation is intolerable. Get Capp in here.”

  Tolvern gave him a worried look. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m not going to lay out an ultimatum, if that’s what you’re concerned about. In fact, I won’t even let on what you told me.”

  Tolvern fetched Capp, and soon the subpilot was sprawled in her seat. Drake asked if Capp’s friends in the crew knew what they’d retrieved from Hot Barsa.

  “Sure, they do. Can’t keep that sorta thing a secret for long.”

  “I would imagine they are writing it off as folly on my part,” he said.

  “Don’t see much use in it, that’s for sure. We ain’t in this out of any charity for the Hroom Empire, you know. Plenty of folks are disappointed we didn’t loot Malthorne’s estate on our way out of there. That’s what we were counting on.”

  “I never said we were going to do any looting. If people made that assumption, that’s their own fault.”

  “Not like we had much time, anyway,” Tolvern said. “We were lucky to get out of there alive.”

  “Oh, I know it. I may have been on the ship the whole time, but I ain’t blind. You was getting shot up pretty good out there. And the fleet was looking for us at the same time. Don’t mean people don’t wish we’d taken the time or sent in more people to get the job done. You know those blokes didn’t join us on San Pablo so we could run around doing errands for the Hroom. Nobody much cares about the antidote excepting if it gets us a payoff somehow.”

  “Vargus asked me to join her on Orient Tiger,” Drake said. “Do you think I should go over?”

  Capp looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. “I won’t say yes or no, but you’ll look like a coward if you don’t.”