It took a frustratingly long time to link one of the BO holoprojectors to the Vickie’s astrogation computer. The consoles out here were old, nearly eighty years old, and many iterations behind current operating systems. Anything used out on the frontier had massive backward compatibility for obvious reasons, but this thing had been made when Sabatine’s grandmother had been a midshipman. In the end she solved the problem by simply slaving the unit to her commo helmet and using the existing link. It was a little grainy but it was able to project a 3D representation of the Rayleigh Stars and the surrounding sectors. Although it bore some relationship to actual sidereal positioning the chart actually depecticted average sailing times at ambient conditions in the matrix.

 

“We should send word back to Cinnabar and warn them what’s going on,” Sabatine mused aloud. There was no chance this was an isolated attack. Fighting here meant there was fighting everywhere, but they still needed to report the loss of the rest of the RCN. Otherwise Cinnabar ships could blunder into a minefield that they still believed was in friendly hands.

 

“You want to take the destroyer back?” Rachet asked, sounding a little wistful. Riding in on a prize of war would burnish an officer’s reputation, not to mention put some coin in the pocket of its captors, something the disheveled Rachet could have clearly used.

 

“No we cut her rig all to bits when we took her,” Sabatine replied, “It’d take us six weeks at least to make it back with the cobbled together scraps we have aloft. Maybe we could pool spacers and re-rig but without dorsal A and with ventral D fracturing…” Kaiden cut off the discussion with a decisive gesture.

 

“K-21 isn’t going,” the prince declared with aristocratic authority, “with the best will in the world it would be too slow, plus we are going to need to shift missiles to rearm the Vickie. We only have four rounds left.” A corvette like the Viceroy only carried 20 missiles in her magazines a dozen of which had been expended before they arrived back at Herculaneum.

 

“Even if we didn’t it would take more time than we have to re-rig her,” Kaiden continued, swirling his drink in his glass. Rachet straightened clearly expecting Kaiden to order him to make the run back to Cinnabar orbit. Instead he turned to Sabatine.

 

“You think if we pressed a tramp freighter that Otis could handle it?” he asked, a genuine question not a rhetorical one. Sabatine sucked her breath in through her teeth. As first lieutenant it was her job to see to the education of the midshipman and so she had a lot more day to day experience with them than Kaiden did.

“Uh… midshipman Otis’ heart is in the right place sir, but that is more than I’d be willing to say for any ship he was astrogating alone.” Otis’ astrogation was something she was working on, but it was clear to her he had no talent for the business. Fortunately for Otis he seemed to possess a certain steadiness under fire, a trait that would secure him a future in the RCN more surely than skillful shiphandling or a feel for the matrix. Rachet drew in a breath, clearly about to volunteer but he was cut off again, this time by, of all people, Tilda.

 

“What about Captain Micha, you said he is a good astrogater didn’t you?” she put in, setting the now empty bottle down on the bar and rummaging underneath for a new one, deliberately or accidentally affording a view of her cleavage. Sabatine opened her mouth to suggest that she leave RCN business to the actual spacers, but the words died in her mouth. It was actually a pretty good suggestion. Micha was a good astrogater, the best of the group infact. The captain had also come up through the merchant service and so had more experience on small ships with short crews. He was also very, very, motivated to get to Cinnabar as quickly as possible to lay his complaints before the admiralty.  That last bit gave her pause but she was sure that if he was given sealed dispatches he would deliver them. It would be as good as admitting to cowardice to do otherwise. Their duty to the republic outweighed any embarrassment his arrival on Cinnabar might cause them, plus it would get him off the ship and out of the way, something that everyone would feel better about.

 

 

“Well its not the worst idea,” Sabatine admitted, feeling almost physical pain in doing so.

“But before we get to details we should probably hear what the Captain has in mind.”