“Won’t know that till we charge her up.”
“Aye,” Kragor agreed. “Don’t suppose you’ve taken up wizarding on your spare time?”
Dexter chuckled. “Not anymore than you’ve become a man of the cloth.”
Kragor stroked his beard again. “Well, first things first, we need some wood and I need my tools! Then I can start making this wreck ready to fly. It’s going to take a fair amount of work.”
* * * *
In spite of years of fantasizing of owning a ship, Dexter had only a little money saved up. A Federation Pilot made little in the way of wages. Often barely enough to pay for the necessary distractions to keep from going mad. The cost of acquiring wood to rebuild the ship proved an easier task than it was for Kragor to reclaim his tools.
He had tried reason with Jodyne, telling her that he had a big job that promised some steady money, but he had to keep quiet about it. She rightly assumed he was up to no good and that Dexter was involved. Kragor made it out with his tools while she used her trained arm to hurl all manner of objects at him. When he returned to Dexter’s room at a Federation housing building, he had to admit that he needed a place to sleep longer than he’d thought.
Their next problem came in transporting the goods. Dexter could only afford a small amount of supplies at a time, but even then the Gnat had little room for cargo. Dexter began to fear he’d be as old as Kragor before the work was done.
At least two days in a week saw them heading out to the Playground. Some nights Kragor stayed with the ship working on it all night and munching on dried meats until Dexter made his return run.
One day while traversing the Playground to fetch his friend Dexter stumbled into an ambush. Contrary to stories told around hearths with mulled ale, most ship to ship encounters in the void do not involve catapult shot and ballista bolts flying. Even the rare bombards so often talked about in story are seldom seen, let alone fired. Only the Federation and the Elven Armada ships are prone to fire at the slightest provocation. Repairs and even ammunition are too expensive for the private ship owner to run the risk.
Three small ships emerged from the background of floating rocks to close with him. Dexter quickly identified an Ant, a Dart, and the third was little more than a skiff with a sail upon it. Dexter sped up his Gnat, risking the perils of the asteroid field and trying to lose the pursuing ships. Being a Federation scout ship, Dexter was correct in assuming that his was faster than the pirates. They were very familiar with the asteroid field; however, so he was unable to lose them.
The largest one, the Ant, slammed into a pony sized rock, sending one man flying into the void and another to the deck bleeding. Broken planks of wood drifted free, bobbing in the small vessel’s gravity plane. Seeing that gave Dexter an idea.
He started choosing more dangerous areas to push through, skimming within feet of some of the larger rocks. He was unable to stretch out to maximum speed for fear of a collision, and that kept the pirates chasing him. One by one smaller rocks smashed into them all, damaging their ships and sometimes wounding their crews. Dexter’s own Gnat did not escape unharmed; several smaller rocks left cracks, scratches, and dents in the decking and hull.
Without a full sail enchanted to catch the solar wind, the strenuous chase was draining the power from the Federation Gnat at an alarming rate. The first ballista bolt came shooting close to him then and Dexter knew it was only a matter of time; he had to do something desperate. The Gnat had a light ballista mounted on its forward deck, but in order to use it he would have to leave the helm, and that meant leaving the ship drifting in an asteroid field without any guidance.
The Dart broke off, giving up the chase. Dexter grinned, feeling renewed hope, and veered towards where he knew Kragor and the Hawk’s Talon lay waiting. Now he had a plan.
Dexter flew above where the derelict was sheltered, weaving in and out of the smaller asteroids and dodging the occasional ballista bolts that were sent his way. One grazed the starboard hull, forcing his hand early. He swooped low over the shadowed depression in the asteroid.
His luck held true when a shot from the medium catapult streaked out of the shadows beneath him and hit the Ant amidships. It tore a great hole in it and broke the back of the small boat, sending two of its crew flying and knocking the third one unconscious on the helm. The Ant was barely more than broken planks floating through space.
Dexter dropped the Gnat into the depression, coming to rest near the Hawk’s Talon. The skiff landed further away, the five members of its crew leaping to the asteroid and charging towards him almost before he could get to the light ballista at the front of it. He took aim and fired, wasting no time with demanding a surrender. Dexter knew better than to try. Besides, if they did, what would he do with them?
The five pirates dodged the bolt, which bounced off the rocky ground and slammed into the skiff, imbedding itself in the wooden side of the makeshift boat. The next bolt, a larger one fired from the Hawk’s Talon, caught them off guard and skewered the first pirate through the chest.
Dexter leapt off of his Gnat, dropping the 12 feet to the ground and absorbing the landing with a flex of his knees. He threw a dagger at an approaching pirate, sticking him in the thigh, and drew his long sword to defend himself.
The pirate with the knife sticking out of his leg cursed and drew his pistol. Dexter reached for the pistol at his own side, then had to duck and parry an attack from the closest pirate charging him.
The clash of steel was drowned out by the thunder from the pirate’s flintlock pistol. Dexter staggered backwards, looking at his shaken sword arm. Rather than a gaping wound on it he saw only the untouched leather of his uniform. Understanding dawned on him when he saw that the blade of his sword was shortened by over a foot by the impact of the bullet.
“Bet you’ve never seen someone block a bullet with a sword before,” Dexter said to the pirates facing him. He circled just enough to keep his adversaries between him and the pirate that was furiously reloading his pistol.
One of the pirates looked to his companions nervously. Another bandit, the first one to attack, raised his weapon to strike and said, “I bet you ain’t never seen that either!”
He slashed out, forcing Dexter to parry his swing. Dexter’s shorter blade nearly missed the parry, forcing him off balance as he tried to counter. The other two advanced.
“I’m a Federation Navy Marine! Harm me and you’ll have the Feds on your tail!” Dexter bluffed again, trying to buy himself some time.
“You’re a Fed running rogue, and you’ve got no weapon! They’ll never know we bled you dry!”
Dexter looked at his sword, drawing their attention to it. “No weapon, good point,” he said. With their attention on his broken sword, his other hand slid towards his pistol.
In a blur of motion he drew his flintlock and fired at the apparent leader of the pirates. The Pirate grunted and stumbled backwards, blood blossoming from his chest where the bullet hit him. The pirate’s sword preceded his body, falling and bouncing towards Dexter. The other pirates cringed, surprised by the blast.
Dexter slid his toes under the dropped weapon and flipped it up in the air, catching it with his sword arm. “There, now I have a weapon.”
The other two pirates looked at their fallen comrade, then at each other and back to Dexter.
“Who’s next?” Dexter goaded them. “Come on, you know I’m running rogue, so I can’t have any witnesses. And you know what I’m doing here, so I can’t be letting you leave.”
The wounded pirate limped into position to take a shot at him. Dexter lunged forward, catching the closest pirate’s blade on the barrel of his pistol while the other pirate parried his slash.
Amidst the rumble of exertion and clash of steel, the release of the ballista on the abandoned ship made them all pause. It was followed by a grunt of shock.
The gullible pirate that had fallen for Dexter’s initial bluff glanced back at his pistol-wielding companion and saw him on the
ground. The fallen man clawed weakly at the spear-sized ballista bolt that had impaled his stomach and nearly split him in two.
Dexter’s pistol smashed into the pirate’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the other one. He tripped and fell backwards, dropping his sword as he did so. With the other pirate off balance from the collision, Dexter ran him through with his new sword, then parried a final last ditch attack from the man before he fell to the ground and clutched his wounds. The grounded pirate scrambled to his feet and turned to flee.
Dexter hurried over to the bandit he had shot and pulled the pistol the man had at his side. He took aim and fired, hitting the running pirate in the back. He came to an abrupt stop, then tried to reach behind his back as though he could pull the bullet out. He turned in a staggering fashion to look back at Dexter. His mouth opened but no sound came out of it before he crumpled to the ground.
“Took you long enough!” Kragor called out from the ship.
Dexter waved at him and gathered the pistols from the other dead pirates, reloading them as quickly as he could. “There’s another ship out there, a Dart, and I’ve got to make sure it doesn’t get away!”
“Why?”
“It knows we’re in here and that we’re up to something,” Dexter pointed out. “Next time they’ll come bring meaner friends.”
“Oh…need any help?” Kragor asked.
Dexter looked around at the fallen bodies. His blood was still racing and he felt little more than exhilaration at his success. “I just killed three of them; I think I can handle one little ship. Clean up this mess and see if there’s anything we can use.”
Dexter headed towards the abandoned pirate skiff hearing Kragor muttering loudly, no doubt cursing his parentage. He examined it, noting it was damaged badly, but not enough to ground it.
The skiff lifted off and Dexter took care to mark where the ruined Ant had floated to, luckily, it had caught in the gravity of the asteroid. He retraced his path, hoping to see the Dart stranded somewhere. Disappointment flooded his skin along with a tinge of fear. If he couldn’t find them, he’d bet a month’s salary they’d return with reinforcements and steal his dreams.
Dexter returned to the asteroid, nearly out of power. With no magic to power the helm the ship would be as maneuverable as the rock the Hawk’s Talons rested upon. As it was, he was not sure he could land the skiff safely. Dexter cursed when he saw the Dart on the ground near the Hawk’s Talon. One of the pirates remained aboard the Dart, manning the light ballista. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Dexter took careful aim of the skiff and waited until there could be no mistake.
He leapt free of the skiff, trying his best to hit the ground rolling. The impact knocked the wind out of him and blackness tugged at his vision. When Dexter’s head cleared he stared at the great pile of scrap lumber. The pirate and the ballista he manned were nowhere to be found.
“There’d better be a charge in your Gnat, Fed pig, because after I kill you I need a ride off this rock!”
Dexter groaned and rolled over. A pirate stood a few feet from him, pistol pointed at him. “Hurry up and do it, it’ll hurt less.”
“Lose the weapons,” the pirate said, gesturing at his weapon belt around his hip.
Dexter glanced down, amazed his sword was still on him. He reached down and loosened his belt slowly, remembering at the last to untie the holster from his thigh. He tugged it free and tossed it off to the side cursing as he did so; he felt as though he was covered with bruises and scratches. He pulled a dagger from his boot and added it to the pile.
“Now get up, your buddy’s got himself locked in that wreck and you’re going to help us get him out. Maybe, if you play nice, we’ll leave you two stranded here,” the pirate said.
Groaning for effect, Dexter rose up to face the pirate. Once on his feet, he turned his head to look at the scattered remains of the two small boats. Broken wood and metal fittings were scattered throughout the shadowy depression. He saw the pirate take a step closer to him and reach out to grab him.
Dexter whistled. “That’s got to hurt.”
“What?” The pirate asked, his extended arm hesitating.
Dexter’s twisted his body and grabbed the only other pistol that had remained on him when he had crashed. It was tucked into his pants in the small of his back. He raised his gun and fired it at the off-balance pirate.
The pirate jerked, firing his own flintlock high and just over Dexter’s head. Not thinking about the close call, Dexter crashed into him and bore him to the ground. He clubbed him repeatedly with the spent pistol until the pirate’s face resembled a rotten tomato.
Dexter rose, breathing heavily and fighting the urge to give in to his aches and collapse. After gathering his weapons he made his way to the hole in the hull, reloading his pistols as he went.
“I’ll keep this rat cornered, go check on Turval!”
Dexter ducked to the side of the open doorway leading from the cargo hold into the companionway of the ship. He waited several seconds, listening and trying to keep his breathing calmed. In short order he heard the footsteps of the pirate walking down the hall. The man walked into the room, catching a glimpse of Dexter out of the corner of his eye.
The pirate yelped and swung around, bringing his pistol to bear. Dexter swung his pistol up and knocked the pirates aside. The impact twisted the flintlock in the pirates grip and made him pull the trigger, sending out a deafening blast. Dexter’s reclaimed sword plunged into the pirate’s belly and up into his chest. He yanked on it once, forcing it in deeper, then pulled it out and let the dying pirate fall.
The ringing in his ears made his eyes water and his head swim. He shook his head, bracing himself against the wall of the ship with his sword arm, and then checked his pistol to make sure the hammer was back and ready to fire. He peered through the door and saw a lone pirate remaining, glancing back and forth nervously between the closed door to the bridge and the doorway that his companion had gone through. When he saw Dexter he spat out language that proved he was a sailor first and a pirate second.
“I’ve got your runt, you come up here and I’ll kill him!”
Dexter aimed his pistol and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet through his cheek and out the back of his head. The pirate jerked and flopped to the ground, flailing in death spasms a handful of times before he lay still.
Dexter glanced about, wondering if any more pirates were in hiding. His back locked in pain as he attempted to take a step into the companionway. He gasped loudly for breath, the inhalation causing agony to spread from his ribs. The adrenaline fled, leaving him wheezing and dizzy. He tried again to move, reaching for the wall to steady himself. He missed, overbalancing in the process and crashing into the hallway with a fresh explosion of misery.
Dexter looked up at Kragor standing in the now open door to the bridge. The dwarf regarded the dead pirate at his feet with a scowl. “I’m not a runt!” Kragor said, kicking the corpse. “I’m tall for a dwarf…and stout!”
Kragor kicked him again then turned to Dexter.
A laugh emerged from Dexter’s lips, causing him no small amount of misery. He coughed, wracking up some blood that ran down his chin and drooled to the floor.
“Gods, boy-o, what’ve ya done to yourself?”
“Repelling borders,” Dexter wheezed, glad to know he could hear his friend, even if he did sound miles away.
Kragor chuckled. “I’d of helped, had ya told me you was out here,” he said when he saw the other dead pirate in the hold. “This the last of them, then?”
“Aye,” Dexter said, reaching out to grab the doorjamb and slowly using it to help pull himself up to his feet.
“How bad are ya?” Kragor asked him, looking at him nervously.
“Half deaf and half dead,” Dexter muttered. He saw the look of genuine concern on Kragor’s face and forced a bloody smile. “Broken ribs, bruises, some scrapes…think I damn near bit my tongue off at some point. Oh! I crashed that skiff into the Da
rt too.”
Kragor’s mouth opened and he peered past Dexter and out the hole in the hull. “Gods, boy, so you did! Didn’t no one tell ya not to ram a docked ship before?”
“Ramming was a two day lesson, I skipped the second day,” Dexter quipped. “Besides, it turned out the guy waiting outside wasn’t so tough without his ship.”
Kragor shook his head and then brightened visibly. “This is the best bit of supplies you’ve brought me yet!”
Confused, Dexter turned and looked out at the scattered wreckage. He chuckled. “So I did.”
“You’re not going to be worth a damn for work, you should head back now and make up a good story,” Kragor said.
“How about I was attacked by pirates?”
“Not bad, just make sure they wasn’t here.”
Dexter nodded and turned to leave. He stopped and turned back. “Awful wealthy for a group of pirates.”
“What?” Kragor asked, looking down at the nearest corpse and seeing no signs of finery.
“They all had pistols and fire powder, and decent weapons.”
Kragor looked again and noticed that Dexter spoke the truth. He looked up at his friend and stroked his beard. “You’re thinking something, aren’t ya?”
Dexter nodded. “Aye.”
“What?”
“Not sure yet,” Dexter admitted. “Gather up their stuff and stash it on the ship, then we’ll load their bodies onto the Gnat and I’ll dump them somewhere.”
“Let’s go get that ant and see if it’s fit for flying,” Kragor suggested instead.
Dexter looked up, remembering the ant then. “You hit it pretty good, Kragor, I’m for thinking it’s all done in.”
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