Engaging the Enemy Read Free

moment. Ship-related functions were actually much broader than she’d realized; she could even override any of her crew at the controls, if she wanted. Though
Fair Kaleen
had not been updated for decades, longer than she’d been alive, the old Vatta command datasets deep in the ship’s AI had served Osman well and he had never bothered to delete them. Her implant had already interacted with the AI to bring it up to current Vatta standards. In the financial hierarchy, she had access to all her father’s knowledge as of the time of the attack, everything from who held which insurance policies on what to the interstellar potential of the tik trade. Much of that was beyond her; she’d never cared much about the investment end. She’d study it later, or find someone who already understood it. Stella, maybe.
    â€œCaptain…do you want something to eat?” That was Toby, tapping gently on her door.
    â€œYes, thank you.” She stood up stiffly, feeling the exercise she’d done that morning. She should eat. She should sleep. The implant informed her that she’d been working six hours—six hours? What with the earlier session, exercise, and the second session, she’d skipped one meal already.
    Fair Kaleen
’s mess had seating for twenty. Ky’s crew clustered at one end of the long table. The last meal of first shift was the first meal for third shift, so all but Mitt, on bridge watch, were there. Ky sat between Alene and Lee.
    â€œI’ve got the inventory for all the aired-up compartments done,” Gordon said. “I know what the ship’s AI says are in the unaired compartments, but I don’t know if it’s right.”
    â€œDo we have anything clearly identifiable as legally owned?” Ky asked.
    â€œMost of it’s unmarked or in ordinary shipping containers, but without bills of lading. Osman didn’t keep a record of the ships he stole from—at least not one I’ve found yet.”
    Her father’s implant had a section on laws relating to privateering. The privateer took possession of an enemy ship and its contents, and profited by selling off cargo. Open containers were presumed to belong to the ship that carried them, and went to the privateer without question, but sealed containers with bills of lading were supposed to be sequestered and put in the control of a court-appointed assessor at the next port. If they proved to be genuine shipments, then they were shipped on to the original consignee, but with a reward judgment payable to the privateer for “stolen goods recovery.” Sealed containers without proper bills of lading could be tricky. Technically they should go through adjudication, but privateers opened sealed but unlabeled containers to convert them to private use.
    She accessed the ship’s AI and downloaded the current inventory. Even richer than she’d thought at first. But what could she do with it? Wealth could not bring the dead to life. Even if she rebuilt the house on Corleigh, her father and mother would not live in it…her uncle would never sit at the head of the table in the Vatta Enterprises boardroom.
    She wanted to go back, back before all this, back home, back to the room she knew so well—had known so well—back to a place where every step she took, every voice she heard, was familiar.
    And that would never happen.
    She forced herself back to the present. “Was Osman’s version of the inventory accurate, when you checked it as far as you could?”
    â€œYes. I was surprised, but I suppose he never expected anyone would have access to this ship’s data.”
    â€œThen I’m going to assume whatever’s in the unaired compartments is the same as the list. It’s not as if we needed all that.” Which was silly, she knew as she said it. They needed much more if she was going to restore just the physical side of Vatta, let alone strike back at their