Free Battlecruiser Alamo: The Price of Admiralty by Richard Tongue

a wild divergence from Triplanetary Fleet Regulations, if the Rules Committee had finished drawing them up yet. As for the scavenging – Sergeant, I want you to make sure that if they took anything that the ship will find useful that it makes its way into the stores."
    Hunter looked at Esposito for a second, then back at Marshall, his face breaking out into a smile. "Already on it, Skipper."
    Marshall noted that he'd managed to get promoted from 'Captain' to 'Skipper' in record time; evidently he was doing something right. The souring expression on his Executive Officer's face didn't bode well, though.
    "As for the rest of it, what the hell happened? Ms. Orlova, any thoughts?"
    She looked around the room, then made her way from the wall to perch on the side of Marshall's desk before replying, "For Yahweh's sake, call me Maggie. Sounds silly calling me 'Ms. Orlova'." She looked around at the others. "I heard on the grapevine that Alamo was being looked at as a happy hunting ground for scavengers. Most of them went down to that warehouse, I know that much. One of the shuttle pilots who they hired got drunk, made us all mad bragging about the big paycheck he'd got."
    Marshall frowned, "Unusually big for smuggling?"
    "Happens sometimes, usually means that some corporate type doesn't know what the black market's like out here. Doesn't pay to brag, though. Oporto found that out on his way home."
    "What happened to him?" Esposito asked.
    Orlova shrugged. "Someone knifed him and stole his cred-card. Probably had it hacked and the money transferred before the body had got cold. Doesn't pay to brag."
    "And this is Triplanetary Fleet Headquarters," said Hunter. "Might want to send some more of my boys over there to clean the place up, skipper."
    "I might convince the Commodore to take you up on that. For the moment it's still Martian-operated though, which means private contractors." He spat the last two words. "None of which ever go beyond the upper levels, at a guess. Doesn't answer the question, though. Who the hell stole our cargo?"
    Zakharova folded her arms in impatience. "The Lunar Republic, obviously." Everyone in the room looked at her. "Isn't it obvious? Ensign, you found considerable quantities of restricted military-grade equipment in that storeroom. I find it hard to believe that petty thugs would have managed to get their hands on it. Some of the criminal syndicates operating out of Luna, on the other hand, would have the contracts to get their hands on them."
    "What would they have against us?" Esposito asked.
    "I see only two possibilities, none of which are particularly pleasant. Either one of the syndicates has some interest at Lalande 21185 and decided to stop us, or the Lunar Republic itself is in on this. Which could mean we are facing considerable fleet strength when we get out there."
    She started to call up a roster of Lunar FTL-capable forces. It made for disturbingly extensive reading, certainly more than equal to current Triplanetary Forces.
    "If it is the Loonies, then we might be biting off more than we can chew," Marshall said. "We might have to consider this more of a reconnaissance in force than an actual expedition."
    "That might be sensible," the lieutenant agreed.
    Esposito looked at her sergeant again, "I'll get the troopers re-familiarized with current Loonie tactical doctrines. If we're going to be facing them, then we'll have to have some idea what we would be up against ."
    "Good idea." Orlova interrupted them with peals of laughter. "Do you have something to add?" Marshall said.
    The young pilot stood back up, making her way over to one of the viewscreens, calling up the inventory images of the recently acquired weapons from the armory. "You're all spinning some elaborate web of intrigue about the Lunar Republic trying to sabotage your very-important mission, whatever the hell it is."
    "It seems a realistic possibility," Zakharova said.
    "Not in a million years. If it was some sort of Lunar