To Hell With Honor

TO HELL WITH HONOR Richard Tongue TO HELL WITH HONOR Tournament of Shadows: Book One Copyright © 2023 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved First Kindle Edition: February 2023 All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Prologue It was Maggie O’Mara’s turn at Orbital Operations, a chore that she had taken on while her ship, the fast freighter Talos, was under repair up in low orbit. Seven shifts in a fortnight had at least given her a chance to catch up with her reading; ever since the Terran Commonwealth had forced independence on Prospero Base, few people came out this far. Only two tramp traders visited, including hers, and only then because they had stakes in the consortium that had purchased the Base at auction. She looked out at the endless, stygian abyss beyond, an underground ocean that reached a thousand miles, far beyond the distant horizon. The base had been built on an island underneath a geological flaw in the crust above, a task that had taken two years and claimed half a dozen lives in the process. More had died in the decades of research and study that had followed, most lost in the Stygian Sea. The Commonwealth had given up on them, had thought that Prospero could never turn a profit. Over the years, more of the colonists had been sent against their will, a choice between freedom in the stars and imprisonment on Earth. And then they’d imposed independence, auctioned the world and her people to the highest bidder, primarily the colonists themselves. And now, after long years, it might be about to pay off. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the alert sirens, and she looked at the console with a start, the book in her hand tossed to the side as her hands worked the controls, bringing the incoming targets into clear resolution. A ship, a large freighter by the look of it, just out of hyperspace and on a course that would take them into a distant orbit. “Unidentified spacecraft, this is Prospero Base Orbital Operations. Please identify yourselves and state your intentions.” Taking a stab at their motivations, she added, “Do you wish to declare an emergency?” There was no reply, and she frowned, working the controls again, trying and failing to find an error, a malfunction that might explain the readings. A single shuttle was on her screens, heading back with a cargo of ice from the rings of Caliban, the tempestuous super-Earth that Prospero orbited. If the pilot moved quickly, she’d be able to intercept, investigate, perhaps make contact with the incoming ships. “Orbital Operations to Shuttle Three-Two. Chriss, you awake?” “Loud and clear,” the too-eager voice of Christina Esposito, one of the more recent arrivals to the Base, replied. “You see that ship?” “That’s why I’m calling. I want you to close and intercept. I can’t get any sort of signal from her. Could be some sort of malfunction…” “Hard to believe,” Esposito said. With a chuckle, O’Mara replied, “More likely something’s wrong at this end. I want you to complete a fast flyby, see if there’s anything strange, try and signal them at short-range.” “Not an intercept?” “No, just a quick pass.” She paused, then said, “Right, coming around. It’s going to make me at least three hours late getting back, though. I’ll have to loop around Caliban first. You mind warning my boss that I’m going to be behind schedule?” “I need to call the Council anyway, I guess. Will do. Keep in touch. Out.” She looked at the display again, the freighter slowly moving into its high orbit, then locked on with a close-range scan, trying to get a clearer image of them. On the surface, she looked like an old Kolchak-class transport, dating back to before Unification, but there were extensive modifications to the hull, new communication arrays, additional thrusters. Not that it was much of a surprise that a seventy-year-old starship had changed since she left spacedock, but even so, it was a puzzle. Their power readings seemed high, unusually high, but there was no trace of armament, no sign that they had any weapons or special defensive systems of any kind. Glancing at the clock again, she tapped a control, and said, “Orbital Operations to Conference Room. Orbital Operations to Conference Room. I need to speak to the Council, right now.” “They’re in session,” the technician replied. “But…” “We have a large unidentified target on the scanners,” she said. “This is either a serious problem or a great opportunity. Right now I don’t know which, but I do know that the Council is going to be interested.” “Meacham here,” a calm voice answered. “I’m on the line. What do we have out there, Captain?” “A Kolchak-class transport, sir, moving into high orbit. No sign of any unusual activity yet, but they’re refusing to accept communications, and as far as I can tell from here, they’re just sitting there. I’ve got a shuttle on its way to investigate.” “That’ll take a while, if they’re out that far,” Meacham replied. “Shuttle Three-Two was already close enough for a fast flyby.” “Councillor Francisco here,” a fresh voice barked. “On whose authority did you alter the flight path of one of my shuttles? I want…” “Tony, she did what I would have done,” Meacham interrupted. “Any vote would have been two to one against, and we have to know what is going on out there, or would you prefer to be surprised.” “I agree,” the final Councillor, Fujita Yuriko, an astronomer in her past life, before becoming an involuntary colonist. “We need intelligence, and fast. I suggest that we adjourn our meeting and head up to join Captain O’Mara, in case a quick decision is needed. Please continue your efforts at communication and gather all the intelligence you can.” “Will do,” O’Mara replied. “Orbital Operations out.” She looked at the flight path