Ganymede Plunder
A Space Opera Adventure Story
Richard Parry
Contents
The story so far…
Shooting Stars
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
About the Author
Also by Richard Parry
Glossary
EXCERPT: DRAGON'S BARGAIN
Undercut
GANYMEDE PLUNDER copyright © 2019 Richard Parry.
Cover design copyright © 2019 Mondegreen.
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13 ebook: 978-0-473-46900-9
First edition.
No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, “Me hearties!” commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.
While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity: let’s be honest, October Kohl couldn’t be based on anyone real. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.
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Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.
For those who long to sail the stars.
The story so far…
It’s been a mere week since the events of Ganymede Steel. While the call of off-world is strong, Nate agreed to help the Emperor in Waiting, Dominic Fergelic, wrangle control of Ganymede back from the thugs and pirates that control Jupiter’s most famous moon.
Dom’s got an angle on a new mission. It’ll need Nate’s charm, and the slicer skills of his best friend Valerie. All they’ve got to do is steal the cargo of a sunken galleon before the pirate lord Pearl gets his hands on it. What could go wrong?
Shooting Stars
The first sign a hundred souls were lost was dust flaking from the ceiling of Triage Tearoom.
Nate eyed his beer, feeling little sorrow at the added silt. Vera’s liquor had never been the selling point of the Tearoom. Privacy and a blind eye to roguish activities were the attraction. He raised his gaze to Dom. “How fast can you get into a ship suit?”
Dom, heir apparent to the Empire, pursed his lips in distaste. He pushed his beer away. “Fast enough. Why?”
“Because here in Cadence the domes don’t rattle. Never have, and never will.” Nate cast a guarded look at the other patrons, most of which looked frozen in fear. Vera’s Tearoom was popular enough, ten others nursing noodles or a brew. “A rattling dome is a sign of impending death, Dom.”
“We won’t need suits.” Dom tapped his fingers on their table’s worn surface. He tossed his personal console to land beside his beer. “What we’ll need is Valerie. Why isn’t she here?”
Nate leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Because you said, ‘Nate, we’re going to haul a load of plunder.’ Valerie’s in a wheelchair. She’s not loading plunder for anyone, leastways not since you haven’t delivered the Personal Augment you promised.”
Dom winced. “About that.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Emperor of all humanity and you can’t get a Personal Augment? No wonder you need my help.” Nate flashed a grin.
He was rewarded with a sour look from Dom. “Emperor in Waiting. We need her skills to hack the cargo.”
“The cargo containing Personal Augments, the very thing you promised as payment for the last job, or some new fanciful collection of illicit wares we’ll no doubt have to fight off a mob of angry pirates for?”
“Umm,” offered Dom.
“I thought so. I don’t even know why I asked.”
“Most people give the Emperor of humanity more respect.” Dom fingered the stitching on his expensive jacket.
“Emperor in Waiting.” Nate frowned as the floor gave another slight tremble. One shake was enough to send Nate’s blood cold, but two? It was a bad sign. “What’s going on?”
Before Dom answered, the tremble grew to a roar, answered by a few tentative screams from outside. Nate was on his feet and through the door before his brain could pull him back. The street was awash with people, not unusual for mid-morning on a Tuesday. Instead of the usual hustle and theft, people ran for cover.
The dome above shone a burnished orange, fire in the heavens beyond. Nate stopped short, mouth open, watching a trail of fire blaze above Cadence’s dome. He spun, intent on making it back inside. Nate collided with Dom. “We’ve got to get Valerie.” She was upstairs in the room they rented. She’d need his help to hustle out in a hurry.
Dom shook his head. “It won’t hit us.”
“What won’t hit us?” Nate jabbed a finger skyward. “There’s a huge ball of burning starship up there!”
“The Cataphract won’t hit Cadence. She’s been shot down by enemies of the Empire.” Dom offered a tentative smile at odds with his usual confidence. “She carries plunder from a thousand worlds.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. He ignored the growing cries of alarm on the street behind him. People from the Tearoom washed out to join the general circus of citizens in panic. “And?”
Dom’s shoulders slumped. “Weapons, Nate. The Cataphract is an Empire Navy ship. Her hold is full of anger and might designed to bring the enemies of my father’s throne to kneel. If the pirates of Ganymede get hold of what’s in her hold, the Empire will raze Cadence to the waterline.”
Nate thought that through as the screaming behind him took shape and urgency, fear and anger welded together into a powerful force for harm. “And you need Valerie to cut her hold open, so we can get the guns first.”
“No, Nate. I need Valerie to cut the Cataphract open, so no one gets those weapons. My father can’t be trusted with them either.” Dom’s face was earnest, holding no hint of a lie, but Nate figured on his new friend being practiced in courtly ways. “If we get there first, we can self-destruct the hull.”
Nate straightened, adjusted his sword belt, and grinned. This was more his kind of party. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Chapter One
The first order of business wasn’t heading for the crash site. It was heading toward the den of spite where Pearl lurked. From the outside it wasn’t remarkable, a big airlock salvaged from a hull guarded by the worthless scum Pearl employed. The airlock led to a warren of smuggler’s caches, all wreathed in smokey gloom.
Nate walked up to the entrance, nodded to the two goons on guard duty, and swaggered with all the bluster his sixteen-year-old frame could manage. He almost made it to the calm, cool interior when a hand clamped on his shoulder. “Nathan Chevell, where do you think you’re going?”
Nate turned, smile on and amped to a thousand lumens. The hand belonged to Macy, one of the door guards. Macy was huge, with a face like a rhinoceros. Macy’s ship suit was patched and worn, and didn’t have the look of equipment cable of holding an O2 seal. “Got to speak to Pearl.”
“So?” Macy’s squint turned accusing. “Last time you came here, two of our people died.” He made it sound like it was Nate’s fault the thugs were human flotsam.
Nate removed Macy’s hand from his shoulder, keeping his smile in the megawatt range. “They were scum and you know it. On the take from the Ganymede Guard. Didn
’t I hear you lost a case of good Europan whiskey?”
“What about it?” Macy’s face morphed into a grimace like flowing sewage. Slow, and sticky.
“Crooked people in the house, a few things might go astray.”
“Fair enough.” Macy sniffed. “Can’t see Pearl.”
“Because I’m not pretty enough?”
“Because Pearl ain’t here.” Macy spoke slowly, like he was explaining the ways of the world to an A-grade imbecile. “You can’t well see a man who’s not here to be seen.”
Nate ran that through his head a few times. “Where would he be?”
“Do I look like his personal diary?”
“You look talented, humble, and in need of a promotion.” Nate looked at his boots, then sidelong at the guard. “I’m here to talk with Pearl about a business opportunity. I heard how the boss rewards those who go above and beyond.”
“Uh huh.” Macy adjusted the sling on his plasma carbine. “Where do you hear these things?”
Nate shrugged. “Around.”
“That doesn’t sound the kind of place I could get to in an auto taxi.”
“Hah.” Nate tucked thumbs into his belt. “I guess I’ll be going then.”
Macy nodded like he was agreeing but didn’t move out of the way of the doorway. “Seems a ship crashed not long ago.”
“Seems that way,” agreed Nate.
“Feels like you’ve been involved in a few things above your station. Why not wait here for Pearl? Make yourself at home. Take a load off.” Macy offered a smile that would only look at home on a corpse.
Nate nodded. “I see how this is. You want to keep me here so Pearl can loot a crashed ship. You’re concerned little ol’ me,” he pressed his palm to his heart, “will somehow manage to thwart a pirate king in his lair, getting to the treasure first. Absconding with a load of bullion, selling it on the black-market. A market controlled by Pearlescent Fang himself.”
Macy glared. “You trying to be funny?”
“I am funny. See you around.” Nate clapped Macy on the shoulder, ducked around him, and almost made the welcome light of freedom when the guard hauled him short.
“Not so fast. Let’s get you squared away.” Macy frog-marched Nate into the back of Pearl’s den. It was the second time Nate found himself a prisoner of the pirate lord. Last time he’d guested here, they’d worked him over.
This time, they might kill him.
At least the cell was different. Nate found himself in a small oubliette, door lock glaring angry red lights at him as he paced. Nate’s world was reduced to six steps east-to-west, five north-to-south. There was a chair too rickety to offer comfort. The room was otherwise bare.
It wouldn’t do to wait for Pearl here. Pearl was the kind of soul not overly generous with people prying into his business and blessed with more cleverness than Macy out front. He’d think, ‘Chevell snooping at the same time a ship crashed,’ and throw Nate into Ganymede’s frozen sea.
You had to try negotiating. Nate sighed. The right thing was often the stupid thing. He squared his shoulders, speaking to the empty air. “Anytime you’re ready.”
After a moment, the door panel winked green. Nate grabbed the handle, hauled it open, and marched outside. His sword, a slender piece of street steel, waited against the wall. He belted it on, ran a hand through his hair, and nodded to a cam watching from a corner. “Thanks, Valerie.”
Getting out wouldn’t be hard. Nate slunk through the empty corridors of Pearl’s den. Rooms that should hold pirates gambling at cards or drinking hard liquor were empty. Store rooms, filled with boxes of pillaged loot, lay unguarded. The lack of pirates confirmed their suspicions: Pearl mobilized his entire group of thugs toward Cataphract’s wreckage. If Pearl agreed, by some oddity of the universe, to not take the crashed ship’s treasure, Nate would have counted that a wholesome stroke of luck. But the main purpose of his visit was to see what they were up against. Turns out the answer was everyone.
He made it to the mess hall without incident. Nate slid out back, galley doors swinging in his wake. He turned on the big stoves, laying pans atop, then filling the pans with whatever he could find. Cheese. Flour. Textured proteins. Cooking brandy, the quality so low he didn’t bother stealing a sip before sloshing it out.
Nate sauntered from the galley, smoke on his heels, fire blooming at his back. He hid in a small alcove used for storing ship suits as alarms blared.
Macy ran past, lumbering like a runaway cargo loader. Nate slipped from hiding, walked to the front door, and left Pearl’s den.
Outside, there were no emergency crews in sight. No one was in a hurry to be the first responder to a site where people were known to shoot on sight. Dom waited in a small surface craft, a big airtight bubble atop a simple cabin, big wheels ready for any terrain. Nate opened the door and slid inside. “Pay up.”
Dom scowled at him, then crossed Nate’s palm with a silver Empire coin. “I thought they’d hit you at least once.”
“As you say.” Nate reached into the back of the craft as Dom gunned it for Cadence Starport’s nearest exit. He struggled into a ship suit as Dom navigated streets now mostly empty of people. Pirate town Cadence might be, but all knew when danger threatened the dome, you stayed inside.
Nate wondered, not for the first time, whether a friendship with the Emperor in Waiting was worth it. He swore, struggling into his ship suit. He’s got friends more important than you. He might get you killed.
Chapter Two
Running along Ganymede’s surface wasn’t like exploring an unknown world. Cadence’s dome was at their backs. They were in a buggy, interior a miniature pressurized hold. The vehicle’s HUD overlaid the surrounding terrain with orange wireframes, showing where the Cataphract lay. The little craft rolled on smooth ceramicrete roads. Off the beaten path, ice rock waited. The vehicle’s big tires wouldn’t make issue traversing that terrain, but the initial route was made on smooth roading laid by the Empire in days long gone.
Dom broke the silence first. “This wasn’t supposed to be a pirate port.”
“Pirates aren’t known for their governing ethic.” Nate watched the horizon, a ruddy glow where a starship burned fighting against the darker blues and greens of Ganymede’s natural terrain.
“They’re like lice.” Irritation showed in Dom’s face and voice alike.
“Those lice are my people.” Nate bridled a little. He couldn’t help it. Dom came here from across the stars. Rich. Learned. Could swing a sword well, too. But he didn’t know what growing up here was like. He couldn’t understand that between the grouting, you could sometimes find a little good.
“I didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“Sure you did.” Nate sighed. “But it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy respect for lice.”
“You two finished your bonding moment?” Valerie Flare’s voice broke from the vehicle’s comm unit. She was shored up safe and sound in their apartment in the dome. She could do everything she needed remotely. “The starship awaits over the next rise.”
“Along with a hundred of Pearl’s goons?”
“I don’t know about that. I can’t hack the codes.” She sounded frustrated.
“You can’t what?” Nate leaned forward. “Val, we’re kind of in the middle of a thing, here.”
“Don’t you ‘Val’ me, Nate. The comm’s confused. There’s chatter every which way, using Empire military codes.”
“It’s a Navy ship,” agreed Dom. He squinted at the comm, like he was eyeballing Valerie for real. “Nate said you were good.” The comm clicked off. Dom frowned. “Was it something I said?”
“It’s possible she’ll warm to you if you deliver the Personal Augment.” Nate patted his hip absently. He missed the sidearm lost to Pearl’s goons last time they roughed him up. “I wish I had a blaster.”
“Why not wish for the stars?” Dom switched the craft’s lights off, the HUD blooming to view with wireframes of the terrain. He took the
vehicle off road, tires scrabbling along the ice. It was dark out here without the craft’s lights. Mighty Jupiter reflected light from above, but people said it wasn’t anything like being on Earth with Sol burning bright.
Dom brought their craft to a halt near the top of frozen rock. They got out. Nate’s boots crunched on silicate and ice. The gravity away from the dome was tiny. His body felt light as air. Jupiter watched, a massive ruddy stain on the sky. Nate dimmed the lamps on his ship suit. Wouldn’t do to draw the eye out here.
Peeking over the rise, the glare of flames mixed with arc lamps caused Nate to squint. Sections of a massive starship scattered on the moon’s surface. Some still burned, and a thruster the size of a habitat glowed cherry-red in remembered heat. People crawled everywhere. Pearl’s goons. They worked with plasma cutters, trying to open sections of hull that hadn’t been broken by the impact.
Nate spoke to Dom over their private comm channel. “Doesn’t look like much is left intact down there.”
“It’s not the size of the prize that’s important. I don’t think they’ve found it.” Dom hunkered low as the beam of a passing light skimmed their location.
“Found what?”
“A surprise,” Dom said in a way that made Nate understand Valerie’s ire. He pointed. “Over there.”
Nate followed the line of Dom’s arm to the nose section of the ship. Big letters covered in carbon scoring claimed her the Cataphract. The flight deck windows were smashed, ugly smears of metal showing where plasma fire had chewed the hull. “The flight deck?”
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