Privateers in Exile (Privateer Tales Book 16)

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Privateers in Exile (Privateer Tales Book 16) Page 2

by Jamie McFarlane


  "Timeline to deliver shipyard?" Nick asked.

  "Nine months, give or take," Anino said. "I have a facility in mothballs over Tipperary. Wouldn't take much to get it back online."

  "Are you talking about the one we blew up?" I asked.

  "That's the one," he said. "I've had a crew putting it back together."

  "How many employees?" Nick asked.

  "Fully operational, the station requires twenty-three hundred," Anino said. "We'd start with eight hundred and try to hire four hundred locals. That'd give us enough to get going. I can ship more if needed. You'd be surprised how many people love the idea of exotic locales."

  I chuckled mirthlessly. We were being railroaded and I hated the feeling. "We should walk away," I said, lifting my eyebrows at Nick.

  Nick just shook his head. "He's got us. The entire Abasi nation needs ships. Can you imagine the value a shipyard would bring? Why, just the ore demand for steel production alone would jump-start York's economy."

  "Four frigates would allow us to run patrols," Tabby said.

  "We need to work out a number of details," Anino said, "but it's manageable."

  I felt sick. The challenge of running House of the Bold felt daunting, but at the same time, it was exciting to think of reshaping the once-ravaged colony into something brand new. We could handle those challenges and now Anino was taking that all away.

  "Holy shite! What is that?" Tabby stood up, pointed out the vessel's window, while at the same time grabbing for me.

  I joined her in front of the armored-glass screen. The near space of Mars was cluttered with a myriad of ships, so it took me a minute to notice we were heading toward one in particular, a gleaming, silvery ship.

  My heart raced as I recognized the outline. The armor was all wrong, but the lines of the ship had been etched into my heart. She was a little longer and a lot sleeker, but it was definitely our old sloop Hotspur.

  "Where did you find her?" I asked, my heart thumping in my throat as I spoke.

  Chapter 2

  Gilded Cage

  Tabby laid a long arm over my shoulder, leaned in, and whispered in my ear. "He knows your weakness for ships. Don't let him take advantage of you."

  Anino's transport made a slow arc around the new Hotspur. Gone were the pockmarks of previous battle and the stealth armor which had given her the character of old stories and good times. In its place was a gleaming new skin, unbroken by port or turret or even armor-glass. When we reached the bow, a wide strip of armor began to change and fade. In its place was now a glass screen allowing us a peek into the bridge.

  "Is that even Hotspur?" I asked. "It's her, but it's not."

  "It's her," Anino said.

  "Where'd you find her?" I asked. Last I heard, Hotspur had crash-landed somewhere in North America, having been knocked down by Kroerak.

  "Shh." Tabby placed a finger on my lips as we continued around and headed aft.

  "It's a whole story," Anino said. "A small group of crazy people put her back together shortly after the invasion. You'd probably like them, but I found them annoying. Interesting fact. The primary engineer was the same guy who prototyped the rail-gun used to drive off the Kroerak invasion."

  "Dr. Murray?" I asked, vaguely remembering the scientist to whom we'd delivered the selich root.

  "Murray was the guy who put the global dispersal system together for the Kroerak poison," Anino said. "Dr. Jeremy Tinker is the rail-gun guy. Came out of Colorado School of Mines."

  "You're missing all the best parts!" Tabby was joking but pulled on my ear to make sure I was still looking at Hotspur.

  "A bit theatrical, if you ask me," Nick said, annoyed.

  "You, Mr. James, negotiate with numbers," Anino answered as we pulled around aft. Hotspur's cargo ramp lowered and a dim blue pressure barrier extended, covering the opening. "Mr. Hoffen, however, negotiates with his heart. I can't take him away from his shiny new solar system by negotiating solely based on what I think is best for everyone."

  "You think Hotspur will change my mind?" I asked. No doubt she was an amazing ship, but I already had Hornblower, a frakking battle cruiser, not to mention our recently refitted frigate, Intrepid.

  Anino set the nose of the transport vessel onto the ramp and through an extended pressure barrier. "Tell me you don't want to take her out for a spin."

  The cargo bay was half the size it had been when we’d sailed the ship. While Anino's transport could fit inside the hold if angled correctly, it wouldn't leave much room. The great thing about the pressure barrier was, as long as the shuttle door was past it, we could safely transfer between ships even without vac-suits.

  "What gives with the shiny skin?" Tabby asked. "Doesn't that make her easier to see?"

  Rather than join us as we exited, Anino stood in the transport's hatch. "The skin is similar to those fighters you flew for the Navy. Lots more armor, though. You can configure their overall reflectiveness and pretty much any color configuration you come up with. The armor is also smart enough that you can patch it so it's good as new."

  "You're not getting off?" I asked.

  "I am responsible for many things," Anino said. "Your comments stirred up a hornet's nest in the Mars Protectorate hierarchy. I meant what I said. You're not safe on Mars right now. There are currently three contracts out on Liam's life."

  "Three?" I squeaked.

  "Buck up, buttercup," he said. "I have over a hundred out on me. You get used to it."

  "Transfer ownership of Hotspur to House of the Bold," Anino ordered his AI.

  "Seems like if you knew we'd get into trouble, you might have warned us," Nick said. "Convenient that suddenly Mars is inhospitable."

  A youthful grin flashed across Anino's face. "I didn't mention the best part about the ship. She has an experimental FTL drive."

  "FTL?" My AI caught the question and flashed faster-than-lightspeed onto my HUD. "What? No fold-space or wormhole engines?"

  "Wormhole drives, yes. Fold-space engines, no. I've destroyed the remaining stores of Aninonium," Anino said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t telling us he’d disrupted one of the few modes of traveling in the immensity of space. "If people want to travel between systems, they'll have to find a wormhole or construct a TransLoc gate."

  Nick wasn’t buying it. "Don't TransLoc gates use Aninonium?"

  "Not anymore they don't." Anino folded his arms across his chest, a look of ruthless pride on his face. "My company supplies the fold-space generators and performs maintenance. No Anino Enterprise, no fold-space."

  "So, we're stuck here?" Tabby asked.

  "No," Nick answered. "We have enough Aninonium back in Dwingeloo to have someone come fetch us."

  This change made no sense to me. " Why an FTL drive? Isn't that the same as traveling through fold-space?"

  The old man in a child’s body just rolled his eyes at me. "Completely different principal."

  I shrugged, largely uninterested in the details. Anino's genius was second to none, but I wasn’t trying to pick his brains about the science of FTL. "My question isn’t about how FTL works. Doesn’t the spread of FTL technology cause the same problems we had with fold-space? An alien species gets hold of it and bammo, we're right back to fighting off bugs on planet Earth."

  "The drive can't be replicated and this ship is one-of-a-kind," Anino said. "Look, there's a group of eight mission locations, all in a cluster, about two-hundred forty thousand light years out in the Small Magellanic Cloud. We've had activity on six of the eight crystals."

  "How'd you get the crystals back from the Confederation of Planets?" I asked. We'd lost control of most of the crystals when we entered the Dwingeloo galaxy. We'd managed to recover some, but not all.

  "Know your opponent," Anino said. "All I'm asking is that you take a run out there. Trip will take less than a month. You want to cancel our deal after that, just head back to Dwingeloo and we'll be done. I'll recall the frigates and the shipyard, then send someone for Hotspur. Play your cards
right, though, and maybe I'll drop a pair of TransLoc gates between Tipperary and Mhina."

  "You're an asshole," Tabby said.

  Anino grinned and stepped back into his transport, allowing the hatch to start closing. "Won't be the worst thing I'm called today. Make sure to check the closet, Masters. I left you a present."

  "Can you believe that guy?" she asked, spinning on me.

  My HUD filled with details about Hotspur. For a moment, I had difficulty processing it all. Fortunately, Nick broke my mental stalemate by palming a security panel next to the cargo-bay ramp, causing it to retract.

  "Can you believe this ship?" I asked. "It's been completely redone."

  "Only half the storage," Nick said, looking around the bay as if to measure it. "At least there's no boxing ring on the ceiling this time."

  The three of us walked forward through the aft hatch. The living spaces were laid out in a familiar configuration, now extending back in what used to be part of the cargo area. In the event we were to lose atmosphere in the bay, the new bulkhead and exterior-style hatch would seal up just like any other part of the hull. Pressure barriers had been installed over each hatch, removing the need for air-locks which could be a substantial tactical advantage in certain circumstances.

  "Are we really falling for this?" Tabby asked, her previous question having gone unanswered. "Anino just shows up and our world turns on a washer?"

  "We are," Nick answered flatly. "I know it feels bad, but we take this one mission and he supplies four frigates to Mhina, as well as builds a shipyard. The tax revenue on the yard alone makes it worthwhile."

  She wasn’t convinced. "I'm telling you, there's a catch."

  "There's always a catch," I agreed, stepping through the aft pressure barrier and onto the galley deck.

  I was met with a long, white gleaming hallway. The only relief was a blue stripe running the length of the wall at waist height. To starboard, my HUD indicated a space reserved for engineering and biologics. To port was first an armory and then a convertible space that could serve as either storage or bunk rooms.

  Forward of the starboard engineering bay, running from midship all the way to the bow was a fully-outfitted recreation area which included a variety of embedded exercise equipment and holographic wall screens. A low, splashing waterfall seemed to grow out from the forward bulkhead and drained into a narrow pond. On either side of the pond, neatly arranged hydroponic capsules sported a variety of edible and carbon dioxide scrubbing plants.

  Ahead, in the center of the space, sat a large mess table recessed into the floor. A prompt on my HUD asked if I wanted to raise the table. I acknowledged and the three of us paused as the glossy, wood-grained top rose out of the floor.

  "Anino really didn't spare any expense." Tabby said, walking past me into the exercise area.

  "Marny will love this galley," Nick observed as he walked over to explore the port side. "Inventory says there's enough food for five people for more than a year."

  On the port wall, I found a refer unit and pulled it open. An assortment of Earth and Mars beer was neatly arranged on one side and I pulled three of them out, handing one to Nick. I set the other on the mess table for Tabby who'd started jogging on a running track. She was facing a holographic screen which showed her running through the streets of a large city.

  "Up?" Nick asked, noticing that I was headed for the grav-plate that would lift me to the top deck.

  "Wait for me." Tabby ignored her beer but jumped onto the grav-plate at the same time I did.

  The function of the plate was to create a small cylindrical space of zero gravity. Experienced users could move almost effortlessly between decks. There was little danger to inexperienced users, beyond losing contact with the deck for a moment.

  On the way up, with my hand on her waist, I turned her in place, giving her a gentle nudge so we landed on opposite sides of the opening in the bridge deck.

  "Now, that's a friggin' nice bridge." I grabbed Nick's outstretched hand as he sailed up. He wasn't quite as comfortable with the zero-g column, but we'd all grown up around zero-g and he adjusted with a little help.

  "Three living areas to the aft," Nick said. "Shared head with private commodes."

  "You mean we're sharing showers?" Tabby asked, with a mischievous lilt in her voice.

  My AI picked up on the question and displayed the shower space’s various privacy options. The head was indeed centered on the three living spaces and could be used communally but was currently set up for private lockout.

  Two areas were large and contained office and comfortable seating options. The third room on the port side was a smaller, more traditional, officer’s quarter. As interesting as the bedrooms were, I focused on the new bridge layout. The old Hotspur had separated the cockpit from the main bridge space. The pilots had been on a raised platform pushed to the extreme forward of the bridge, with a short set of stairs that allowed access. The new layout expanded that forward cockpit configuration. The larger raised platform was now sculpted into a U-shape so that a total of six seats were available, including the two pilot's chairs in the center. Where the old workstations had been on the main bridge level, only a peanut-shaped conference table and chairs remained. It had the same glossy, wood-grained finish as the table directly below us in the mess.

  "It's like we're in a candy store," Tabby said, playfully pecking me on the cheek and running forward to take her seat at the flight controls.

  I caught Nick's eye. "She's right, you know. Anino's up to something. This is too good."

  He raised his eyebrows. "I'm thinking the same thing. I just can't see how we turn it down, though."

  "Do you trust him?" I asked.

  "With some things," Nick answered. "I don't think he'd put us in more danger than he thought we could get out of. I also think Anino is all about the long-game."

  "Whatever that is," I said, finishing Nick's thought.

  "Show Small Magellanic Cluster," I said, stepping up onto the raised bridge next to a holographic projector just behind the pilot's chairs. A wispy blue cloud of stars and gas appeared before us. "Show the quantum crystal contact locations." Eight glowing red balls appeared and spread out across forty thousand light years.

  "First mission was there," Nick said, jabbing his finger into one of the circles. The AI drilled in on the region and showed approximately one hundred star systems. One of the systems pulsed blue at the center of the display.

  "What was Belirand looking for all the way out there?" Tabby asked.

  "Who knows," Nick replied.

  "You know we don't have a choice, right?" Marny voice came out of nowhere and a meter-tall hologram of her appeared on the edge of the holo-projector's range.

  "Didn't know you were along for the ride," I said, nodding in her direction. "Doesn't that lack of choice from Anino give you pause?"

  "Of course. But we all know we're going, so we might as well get on with it," she said. "Why don't you come grab me? Someone should let Ada know what's up."

  I resealed the beer I'd been holding and slid into the portside pilot's chair. The cushioning conformed to my body as I worked through a hastily assembled pre-flight checklist.

  "You've been giving orders for so long are you sure you still know how to fly?" Tabby needled playfully.

  "You'll regret that later, missy," I shot back. "Give Ada a call for me? Oh, and give her a heads-up. I don't like the idea of assassins looking for me and finding her."

  "What if she doesn't want to come along?" Tabby asked.

  "That seems likely," I rolled my eyes and grabbed the flight sticks. "Probably best if you get strapped in, Nick."

  Hotspur had always been efficient and Anino's upgrades had done nothing but improve on what was already great. I'm not sure, however, if my opinion was influenced by my recent experience commanding the massive Hornblower battle cruiser, or if her responses were just that much improved from what I remembered. Either way, I felt a thrill in my stomach as I rolled out of
high orbit where Hotspur had been parked and dove into the Martian atmosphere.

  "Ada says she ran into some trouble," Nick said, his voice conveying no real alarm.

  "What kind of trouble?" I asked, dividing my attention between the conversation and the city of Puskar Stellar's security protocols.

  "She was being followed and had to engage in light hand-to-hand combat," Nick said. "Her words. Not mine."

  "Any residual trouble with local authorities?" I asked.

  "Not so far."

  From space, observing the line of dusk as it travels around the globe is mostly an academic affair. For folks planetside, it marked a transition from day to night. I felt a pang of regret as the dusk line crossed over Puskar Stellar. Night activities in Puskar Stellar were by far my favorite. Countless restaurants would be preparing for the dinner rush, and street vendors who hawked their goods from colorful stands and carts would be replaced by musicians and street performers. Unfortunately, without knowing who might be coming for me, I wasn't about to endanger my crew by going out for one last night on the town.

  As if sensing my darkening mood, Tabby broke the silence. "We should order that super-thick pizza Marny got from Gino's in Coolidge when you guys came to visit me while I was at the Academy. We could ask them to send it out to the resort. It'd be like old times."

  Her description brought back warm memories of when our little group had split and we’d struck out on our own paths. I don’t think Nick, Tabby or I had any idea where our relationships or our lives, for that matter, were headed. "Spicy chicken, cream cheese, sauce on the top," I said, my mouth watering and stomach grumbling.

  "Pepperoni and hot peppers," Tabby added wistfully.

  "Anchovies, sauerkraut and green olives," Nick chimed in.

  Tabby and I looked at each other with mock horror and turned as one to Nick. "You can't possibly be serious? That's disgusting. Bleck," Tabby said.

  "What can I say? I'm complicated," he answered.

  "Or pregnant," I quipped, sending the three of us into uncontrollable laughter. The laughter was disproportionate to the joke, but broke the rising tension caused by the stress of Anino's proposal.

 

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