Chapter X
"My lord, Jack. Have you ever seen anything like this?"
Jack turned to find Fidda walking up the broad dock towards him, her boot heels tapping a somber cadence on the metal planking.
"No, lass," Jack replied, unusually subdued. He certainly had never seen destruction on this scale before. "Not in all me days."
They were standing on one of the main wharves of the orbital station above Situla. All about were smashed ships and burnt out structures that had served as the offices and warehouses of the Fleet base. A large civilian ship lay canted over, crushing one dock under its smoldering hulk. Another civilian ship wafted smoke from its deck hatches. All of its rigging was gone, stumps of masts poked up from the battered deck, but upon her stern a crew of spacers worked to clear the debris from the drive. She was not a total loss then. Other vessels hung at their moorings with skeleton crews doing what they could to effect repairs. The whole wharf was cluttered with the remnants of cargoes and pieces of equipment torn from the ships.
The flotilla had been challenged again when it had approached the space port. This had been an actual patrol launch, though, it clearly had been damaged during the raid. Black scorch marks had ringed the gunwale and all of the launch's rigging was new. The drive seemed to have been salvaged from another launch as the numbers painted on its cowling were different from those upon the prow. A brief exchange between Amelia and the ensign in charge of the launch had resulted in the flotilla being escorted to the main wharf. On their way in they had passed many vessels like the ones they could see from their current berth. All three of the small ships of Amelia's flotilla were moored to a single dock originally intended for a ship of the line. Apparently there had been no ship at this mooring when the attack had occurred. There was no evidence of damage, at any rate.
At the end of the long wharf where the patrol launch had left them they could see three warships smashed to splinters. Their hulls were breached, clearly their had been great loss of life among the crews and yet there were men hauling cannon from the wrecks and loading them onto a heavy barge. Jack had thought at first that the cannon were being prepared for transport to a new ship, but no. As one cannon was swung aboard the men had quickly unlashed the rigging and by main force they had hauled it across the deck of the barge to a position behind an armored panel where they began to make it fast to the deck plates. The barge was going to be some sort of mobile gun platform. These men were not willing to give up.
"I've never known pirates of any sort that could do a thing like this." Obviously, Fidda was impressed by the scale of destruction. "This had to be by order of one of the Bosses."
"The Bosses?" Jack asked. "The ones what run the Expanse?"
"Aye," Fidda said, still looking at the extensive damage. "They make the rules. Each one holds sway over a different territory. They get together whenever there's a dispute or something else that involves all of them. Sometimes they go to war with each other. It all depends on what the other members of the Council think."
Amelia joined them just then, Mr. Brraadtt and Mr. Weyt accompanied her. They waited for a few minutes in silence before a very tall, lean and harried looking Dresdien dock master in filthy and smoke stained coveralls approached. His lean frame and his slumping posture spoke of too many hours spent in the effort of getting the wharves back into a serviceable condition. Such a condition had not yet been achieved.
"Ma'am," said the dock master, knuckling his brow by way of greeting. "I'm Quartermaster Heirri. The patrol launch said you were Commodore Amelia."
"That's correct, Quartermaster," Amelia replied. She looked around at the apparent chaos. "How bad is it?"
"Better today than yesterday, Ma'am. We should be able to have five slips ready for service tomorrow." The quartermaster wiped a grubby handkerchief across his soot stained, orange face, mopping a spot between his eye stalks as though it itched. He gestured in the direction of the smashed warships. "We'll be towing those hulks into a stable orbit as soon as we've scavenged the guns off them."
"Which ships were they?" Amelia asked.
"They were privateers, Ma'am," Heirri said. "I don't know what ships they were. The dock master that signed them in was killed during the attack and his records haven't been recovered yet. I've had things more pressing to do than speak with their masters."
"I suspect so," Amelia said thoughtfully. "Where can I find Captain Pillorey, Quartermaster?"
"He's down at the far end of the wharf, Ma'am," Heirri said pointing in the direction of a cloud of smoke. "He is looking over the damage done there. Awful sight, it is, Ma'am. Courageous is there. Lots of our boys dead."
The expression on the dock master's face caused Amelia to speak more gently towards him. Not quite professional, but under these circumstances it was the right thing to do.
"Perhaps, Quartermaster, it would be best if you returned to your duty while we conduct ourselves to see him."
"Thank you, Commodore." Heirri knuckled his brow again and strode back down the dock to where a work party was moving a pallet of crates.
Jack didn't know what to make of what his eyes were telling his brain. As they had approached Jack had assumed they would find another harried and haggard Fleet captain. Instead, he had spied a four armed, rather dashing looking officer with deep red skin wearing what looked like a green version of the standard Fleet uniform, gesticulating frantically while arguing with a stout shrub wrapped in a regulation officer's jacket. Jack closed his eyes and counted to ten as he walked. Normally that would have cleared his mind of the hallucination but when he opened his eyes it was still there.
"Can you not see my point?" demanded the red skinned man of the shrub. "If the dock isn't cleared then I can't off load my cargo nor can I load new stores. The ship's fine. She doesn't need any repairs except some minor things we can tend to ourselves. I just need a few work crews to clear my dock."
"There are no crews available, Captain Svikari," rumbled a voice from the shrub.
Jack checked in his stride. He looked quickly to his companions. None of them reacted. He must be hearing things. The voice sounded much like a large woodwind instrument. Even at a dozen paces he could hear the vibration like the reed of an oboe. Quickly shoving his surprise aside, Jack skipped forward to regain his place behind Amelia.
"Alright!" snapped the four armed man. "Alright, Captain Pillorey, just give me a loader and my crew can clear the dock. We'll move everything to wherever you want it. No need for your crews to stop their work. We'll take care of it."
"All of the surviving loaders are in use by recovery crews, Captain." The shrub shifted to face the four armed man revealing a face of sorts made of twisted bark framed by slim branches in a manner suggestive of hair. There was no mouth or nose only a set of eyes that did not blink. "There are no loaders available. There are no work gangs available. There is no place for you to put your cargo because those warehouses have been destroyed along with the loaders that were in them. If you go down to the surface you will find that all of the main docks and warehouses in the capitol are smashed. You will be forced to off load your spoils in one of the other settlements or you will be forced to make your way to Mhones. A journey of at least a week, if I recall correctly. In any event, it is not my concern."
"Now see here, Pillorey!" shouted the man. He would have continued but Amelia interrupted.
"Captain Pillorey?" she asked of the shrub.
"Can you not wait your turn, woman?" the red man snapped without turning to look at Amelia.
Amelia went very still. Jack had seen her do this a number of times. Usually he was on the receiving end of what was about to happen and decided he would enjoy it this time as a spectator.
"I do beg your pardon, Captain," Amelia said deferentially in a sweet voice that mingled sarcasm with irritation. "I did not realize that your business was more important than the war effort."
"Now see here, woman!" the four armed man practically shouted as he spun. His hand, with a finger extended, rose to just under Amelia's chin as though he were scolding a child or forward servant. As soon as he saw Amelia's uniform the motion was arrested. He froze like that for just a moment while his mind processed exactly how large a mistake he had made. His posture relaxed. His hand dropped and the look on his face was like that of a man who has discovered he is standing next to a hornet's nest.
"You were saying, Captain?" Amelia asked mildly. The glint in her eyes was not mild at all. There were icebergs that were warmer. The man was completely at a loss. Jack thought he saw recognition in Svikari's black eyes. Not of Amelia's rank but of Amelia herself. "Oh. I see, Captain. You were finished. Allow me to present you with an observation of mine. To request assistance in unloading your cargo is natural and sensible. To insist that work gangs and loaders be allocated for your use when there is clearly a major crisis that they are engaged in setting right is not only shameful, counter productive and distracting for the administrator in charge but also nonsensical on a scale heretofore unrivaled in my experience. And for future reference, I am Commodore Amelia, appointed by Imperial commission as Commodore of Privateers. The proper way to address me is not as 'woman'. Do you understand, Captain?"
"Commodore of Pri... That's preposterous!" snapped Captain Svikari. He had been wilting under Amelia's gaze until he'd heard her rank and position. "There hasn't been a Commodore of Privateers in years. We won't stand by for that, I can tell you."
And that was when things almost turned ugly. Brraadtt stepped forward with his fists clenched and his eyes drawn down close in on his skull the way they did when he was about to fight. The only thing that held him back was Mr. Weyt laying a hand on his shoulder. Captain Svikari took a nervous step backward bumping into Captain Pillorey.
"I take it, Captain, that you are a privateer," Amelia said flatly.
"Yes, Ma'am," Svikari said still eyeing Brraadtt warily. "The owner of my ship will want to see your documents."
"Will he?" Amelia smiled. "He may want many things but if he wants to see those documents he needs merely to consult the official record. I am not answerable to him. For you I say, return to your ship and make what plans you may. Do not leave this port. If you know any other privateers currently moored here, tell them that I will call a general meeting of captains and masters as soon as I have gotten some details and a general overview of the situation. You are dismissed, Captain."
Without so much as a nod Svikari stalked off down the wharf fuming. Amelia paid him no mind at all, instead she turned to the shrub. Taller than Jack by at least two feet Captain Pillorey loomed over Amelia as he came to attention and saluted with a thick, woody arm. Amelia saluted crisply in return then got right down to business.
"Captain Pillorey," she said extending her credentials to him. "I am Commodore of Privateers Amelia Doppler."
Pillorey took the folded wallet and opened it. He quickly scanned the first page then upon glancing over the second he looked up with what Jack presumed was wariness. Pillorey's eyes returned to the page and read through the document more carefully before handing it back.
"What can I do for you, Commodore?" Pillorey asked politely but still wary. Jack could not understand where the sound was coming from.
"I do not wish to interrupt your work here, Captain." Amelia gestured at the hulk of the ship that a work gang was currently stripping the fouled rigging from. "Will there be a time today that you could call on me aboard my ship?"
"The men do not need my direction to complete this task, Commodore," Pillorey said. "We can speak here now, if you like."
"Very well," Amelia said stepping up next to the strange plant captain. "I will need a list of the privateers currently operating out of this port. My ships will need to renew their provisions. Any reports that are available regarding the activity of hostile forces in this sector would be most greatly appreciated."
"Will you be assuming command of this station?" Pillorey asked deferentially.
"That is not part of my mission, Captain," Amelia replied with a slight inclination of her head. It had been courteous of the captain to ask. "I am perfectly willing to provide advice or assist in any way that I can, though."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Pillorey scratched what passed for his chin in thought. "At the moment we are conducting salvage and repair operations, as you have no doubt observed. Captain Lorne and Captain Green have been advising me on several matters and their advice thus far has proven to be most useful. Captain Lorne is a very practical man and sees things here not so hopelessly as many do."
"Lorne?" Amelia asked a little surprised. "He was captain of the Courageous when it was on display at the academy."
"The Admiralty ordered him to sail here shortly after the Battle of Muliphein. The Courageous was refitted in these docks and brought up to strength here, also," Pillorey said.
"But surely he is beyond retirement age. Lorne is nearly as old as the ship."
"He was first lieutenant in her last battle against the Procyon," Pillorey nodded. "The Admiralty seemed to think that no other officer would know the ship so well and no other officer would sail her as well as Captain Lorne."
"And here she is smashed in spite of it," Amelia gestured at the listing warship. "How did the pirates do so much damage, Captain?"
"They caught us with our pants down, Commodore," a new voice called from up the dock.
Standing, leaning on a cane was a withered looking old creature in a baggy captain's uniform. His breast was laden with decorations and awards that glittered in the sunlight. His bicorn hat rode sideways on his narrow skull with a blue and white cockade standing out proudly from the front.
"They came in from the direction we least expected." The old officer waved his cane back towards the Empire. "Slipped across the border somewhere and looped in from dead space like they knew their business. Then before we could make sail they slammed a few hundred cannon shot into the port and crippled everything in sight. Passed right on to the planet before the batteries could range them properly. We scored a few hits but it wasn't enough. They hit the governor's home and the Fleet headquarters before they moved on to strike the docks down there. It was the Crescent that saved the day. Damn! but Piet knows how to fight. Raked them with a dozen broadsides as he circled in. The port's batteries came to bear on them about then too. They didn't disperse like we expected, though. They came at us in line with a few of their faster ships fending off Crescent. When the main body crossed us they let loose with everything they had and you can see the results."
"Commodore Amelia, may I present Captain Lorne of the Courageous," Pillorey said with a slight bow accompanied by the rustle of foliage.
"She knows me, Captain," the old officer said. His eyes danced with suppressed mirth. "I still remember the day your grandfather brought you aboard Alliance, all wide eyes and questions. I see the Admiralty has finally made amends for at least one blunder. Commodore Amelia now, not little Amy anymore. Your father would be very proud."