Winds of Marque

by Bennett R. Coles

  The glare of the distant Cluster illuminated the boat and Amelia quickly took stock of her half of the assault team. Eight men and women all dressed in the padded armor issued by the Navy for close self-defense. It was enough to at least slow bullets and blade strikes, and lightweight enough not to impede movement. Each sailor had a pistol and a cutlass at his or her belt.

  As the boat’s thrusters pushed it away from Daring’s hull, Blackwood strapped in next to her. He gave some quick instructions to Master Rating Faith at the helm then leaned in close to her.

  “Feeling good?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. She kept her expression locked down in what she hoped was calm determination.

  “If we need to split up, you’ll lead the second group.”

  “Why would we split up, sir?”

  “No idea,” he said airily. “But battles have a way of quickly changing the plan.”

  “I’ll try and keep up, sir.”

  He gave her a friendly wink.

  Amelia watched as Daring’s sails began to furl, her own thrusters firing swiftly as Riverton aligned the ship for the last dash. She looked forward at the lumpy comet that was looming before them. Its white surface was cut with hundreds of thin cracks amid random, jagged outcrops. It was probably a remnant of stellar formation billions of years ago whose long dance through the gravitational chaos of the Cluster had never let it come close enough to a solar system to get caked in dust, and its icy purity made it a prime target for deep-space replenishment.

  As the surface of the comet rolled by, a particularly large ridge passed overhead. Beyond it, the dark shape of a Human-designed ship stood out starkly against the icy landscape.

  “And there she is,” Blackwood whispered.

  The pirate ship was small—she barely would have rated a sloop in the Navy—and with her masts retracted she resembled a bullet with her rakish bow and smooth lines. She hovered just above the gleaming surface of the comet, two long arms extending from her hull into the ice.

  Amelia leaned forward, feeling the adrenaline course through her. The pirates were vulnerable, and were blind to their approach as the tiny boat blended into the dark backdrop of space behind her. She looked off to port and saw Sky’s boat keeping pace with theirs. Up ahead, beyond the pirate ship, she scanned for any sign of Daring.

  There! Just skimming the final ridge, she spotted the bulky form of the frigate as she sailed into view. Her bow was pointed at the target, but even as Amelia watched, Daring began to turn. Her momentum still carried her toward the pirate ship, but now her full broadside was brought to bear.

  Blackwood grabbed a telescope and searched the pirate hull.

  “No sign of ports opening or weapons charging,” he said. “But we’re probably inside cannon range now.”

  Amelia gripped her straps tightly, suddenly feeling very exposed in this open-topped, unarmed boat.

  “Increase speed,” Blackwood ordered, snapping the telescope down. “Close for boarding.”

  The gentle push of the thrusters accelerated the boat. Amelia heard a smattering of activity behind her as sailors adjusted their weapons. She scanned the target with her bare eyes. Still no movement.

  A flash of light caught her peripheral. To starboard, with a series of flashes rolling across her hull from bow to stern, Daring opened fire. Seconds later the first shells struck the pirate hull. From Amelia’s distance the impacts appeared little more than tufts of dust, but she knew the thunder that was rolling through the interior of the target.

  “Steer twenty degrees down,” Blackwood said.

  The boat dipped to aim beneath the pirate ship. Another rolling sequence of fire erupted from Daring’s flank, and another wave of impacts pounded the target. Explosions burst outward from the pirate ship. For a moment Amelia thought that Daring’s shots had penetrated the outer armor, but then she saw the first tufts of smoke against Daring’s hull.

  The pirates were returning fire.

  The pirate ship was looming large through the boat’s canopy, and Liam scanned it for airlocks.

  “There,” he said, tapping Faith on the shoulder and pointing at the bulky hatch that extended out from the pirate ship’s quarter, far enough aft to be in line with the bridge. “That’s where we’re locking on.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The boat glided up onto the quiet side of the pirate ship, sheltered from the thunder of cannon fire as Daring drew all the attention. A surprise attack always caused a few minutes of panic and confusion: now was their chance. With a rush of thruster power, the boat killed its speed and thumped up alongside the ship. Able Rating Hunter dived into the airlock tube, stabilized it over the pirate airlock, and latched on.

  “We’re on!” he shouted up.

  “Board the vessel,” Liam commanded.

  The first sailor clambered through. Moments later Liam heard the clank of the airlock opening and felt his ears pop as pressures equalized. The second member of his team boarded, then the third. He heard the shouts of alarm and the clang of steel even while he still waited in the boat, but his sailors kept piling through. Finally, he grabbed the hatch and yanked himself down into the airlock.

  “Signal Daring that we’re aboard,” he shouted back to Faith.

  His feet thudded down as artificial gravity took hold. Moving forward through the airlock chamber he drew his saber and scanned ahead. His team was formed in a defensive semicircle beyond the airlock, covering a junction of three passageways. A pair of pirates had already been taken down, their bodies strewn across the deck. But Liam saw one of his own sailors down too. The deck shook as another barrage of cannon fire struck the far side of the hull. Moments later the thunder of the pirates’ cannons blasted their answer.

  The sailor, Master Rating Flatrock, was hunched over, grasping his side as the medic ripped out a thick bandage and pressed it against the wound. Blood oozed from the slash wound, and Flatrock’s face was ashen. But there was no fear in his expression.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he gasped. “Bastard got in a lucky strike.”

  Liam quickly assessed the wound. It was survivable if they could get this man to safety, but he was already weakening. He was in no shape to continue the attack.

  “Not to worry, Flatrock,” he said with forced good cheer. “Well played for making my choice of boat sentry easy. Guard the airlock with your pistol and get the boat’s crew to get this scratch sealed up.”

  Flatrock’s expression suggested an impending protest, but Liam could see the strength already fading from his eyes. Still hunched and cradling the bandage against his side, he shuffled to the airlock door and settled against the bulkhead. He drew his pistol.

  “Boat’s crew!” Liam called back. “Bring Flatrock some fresh bandages, and a double shot of medicinal rum!”

  Flatrock’s eyes lit up at the order. Medicinal rum was laced with powerful painkillers made from poppies—and was a damned potent drink in its own right.

  Turning back, Liam assessed his team, now reduced to seven including himself. They were sharp, on a razor’s edge of aggression.

  “To the bridge,” he said, striding into the center corridor as he activated his radio. “Assault, XO—we’re aboard and moving on target.”

  “Assault,” came the curt reply. “Aboard and engaged with hostiles.”

  Amid the pounding of cannon fire, Liam could hear shouts and clatter in all directions. Chaos and confusion were his friends right now, but neither would last long. Up ahead was another junction, likely with the main fore-and-aft passageway of the ship. He increased to a jog, drawing a pistol into his free hand and rounding the corner without slowing.

  Half a dozen pirates were running toward him in the dim light, still strapping on their weapons belts. He fired at the closest, then swung his saber down in a lightning strike as he crashed into the crowd. His blade sliced through flesh and struck bone as he slammed into another body. His momentum carried him forward, and he wrenched his sword free as
he turned.

  A dagger blow glanced against his armor. Liam slashed back, unable to see his opponent amid the quick movements. A heavy blade swung at him from the left and he barely managed to parry, staggering back at the force of the blow. He ducked back against a return swing and fired his pistol at chest level. The shots pinged against the bulkhead. Where was the attacker?

  Liam stepped back, trying to spot his opponent in the shadowy melee. The giant sword swung at him again from the right. It was low, and he caught the blade on his own saber, forcing it down. As the sword scraped across the deck, Liam stabbed out at where his opponent should be, but again hit only air.

  Frustrated, he stepped back again, gaining room.

  Then he finally saw his opponent. Not a man at all, but a brute. Low to the deck in a fighting stance, teeth bared in fury.

  The Theropod pirate pounced forward, powerful legs rearing up. Dagger-like claws slashed at Liam’s breastplate and he stepped back again, banging into the bulkhead behind him. The Theropod thumped down on the deck, body low as he shifted his weight. A heavy blade was strapped to his long tail, which whipped around with crushing force. Liam dropped his pistol and gripped the saber with both hands, taking the brunt of the swing and crashing backward against the bulkhead. The Theropod shuffled for a second blow, but Liam finally knew where to attack; he chopped down at the brute’s back, the two-handed strike snapping through the thin plates of armor and into the spine. The Theropod roared in pain and staggered back, but Liam pressed the attack home. Ignoring a rake of claws down his leg, he swung again at the brute’s neck. The blade sliced through the delicate creature’s bone and flesh, the long, bony head dropping to the deck in a final spasm of shock and pain.

  Liam lifted his sword in a guard as he crouched down to retrieve his pistol. He swept the gun through a surveying arc, just in time to watch the last pirate, a Human, stagger back.

  Virtue danced forward, knocking the pirate’s blade spinning, and with one quick thrust, her cutlass entered his heart.

  The pirate collapsed. Amelia tucked into a crouch and did her own scan, finally noticing Liam staring at her. Her breath was quick and her eyes were wild, but she eventually managed a grimace.

  “Back home you usually just have to cut the street thugs and they run away,” she gasped. “These bastards are tough.”

  Liam straightened, surveying the carnage in the passageway. Virtue and the five sailors were gasping and panting, but they were all still standing amid the scattered bodies.

  “Well done, PO,” he said to Virtue, before raising his voice. “We’ll come back to search this lot, but for now we press on.”

  Momentum was everything, he knew. The pounding from Daring’s cannon continued to rock the ship, but the pirates would surely know by now that for all its sound and fury, Daring’s attack was merely the distraction. Although still catching his breath, Liam hustled forward into a jog again. The clatter of his own armor was matched by the dull thudding of his sailors behind him. He spotted a ladder heading up and, without slowing, sheathed his sword and pistol. With both hands free he scrambled up without pause, trusting in his armor. Hedge was right behind him.

  Bullets cracked against his backplate as he found his footing on the upper deck, then on his breastplate as he swung around with pistols in his hands. He returned fire rapidly, stepping forward in the dim light to where a trio of pirates hunkered behind consoles. Light shone down through the uncovered bridge canopy, the brilliant reflection of the icy asteroid bathing the space in a cold, twilight glow.

  He heard Hedge scramble up the ladder as he stepped forward. Shots from her pistol joined his, and one of the pirates switched his aim. The sound of bullets ripping through soft armor was followed by Hedge grunting in pain as she scrambled for cover. Hedge hunkered down behind a console, one hand pressing against her torso as she struggled to reload her own pistol.

  Liam stepped forward, drawing the enemy fire. Both his pistols clicked empty. He slammed them back into their holsters and drew his saber, running to close the distance. One pirate pistol appeared over a console and Liam slashed down. The pistol and the hand that held it tumbled to the deck. Liam grabbed the screaming pirate and threw him down, resting one armored foot heavily on the man’s neck, pinning him. His other sailors fanned out, weapons drawn. The two remaining pirates, one Human and one Theropod, rose slowly from their positions, hands in the air.

  Liam scanned the bridge. It was smaller than Daring’s, with a single command chair in the center and a trio of matching consoles forward. Another trio of consoles was aft, two of which were now sputtering smoke and riddled with bullet holes. The canopy overhead was still uncovered, and low enough that Liam could almost have touched it at a stretch. The curved outer hull of the ship was very apparent in the rounded upper plates that sloped down to the deck.

  “Assault, XO,” he said into his radio, “bridge secure.”

  “XO, Assault,” said Sky. “Propulsion secure. Indication that someone is trying to jettison cargo from Three Deck, port side aft.”

  Seizing cargo was key, Liam knew. Every sailor in Daring knew that there was prize money for them if the mission was successful.

  “Secure propulsion,” he ordered, “and send a team to stop that jettison. I’ll send a team as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Liam studied his remaining sailors. Hedge was sagging noticeably, and blood seeped from her torso armor. The other five watched him expectantly. He motioned to the medic.

  “Able Rating Song, you stay here and do some patching on Hedge. Petty Officer Virtue, take the others and get down to Three Deck, aft. Somebody’s trying to jettison cargo—stop them. Sky’s sending a team as well, so watch for friendlies.”

  “Yes, sir.” Virtue motioned the three sailors to follow her down the ladder.

  Liam lifted his foot off the pirate he’d pinned, to a grateful moan and deep breaths. He rested the point of his saber on the man’s back, watching the other two, who still had their hands raised in surrender.

  The next question on Liam’s agenda was to figure out who the captain was.

  Amelia leaped down the last ladder, landing in a crouch on Three Deck and scanning both ways for pirates. Flatrock was down, and now Hedgie, and Amelia was ready to mete out some punishment on these criminal thugs. She readied her cutlass and advanced.

  The pirate ship’s corridors were low and tight, and poorly lit. The thunder of Daring’s cannon impacts still rocked the interior, but the return fire was becoming less frequent. Amelia staggered aft as the deck shook again, hearing her three sailors jumping down behind her. Down the narrow passageway she saw furtive movement.

  Without hesitation, she charged forward, raising her cutlass. The passage was only wide enough for one person at a time, and she heard her shipmates behind her. As she neared, the movement resolved itself into two Human pirates desperately stuffing strongboxes through an airlock hatch. At the sound of her approach they turned, wide-eyed. The nearest gathered his wits faster, lifting his sword and lunging forward. Amelia brought her blade up, knocking the blow aside as her body crashed into his. He was as solid as a brick wall, unmoving against her charge and blocking the entire passageway. His powerful arm grabbed at her neck, but she ducked down, feeling a sharp tug on her scalp as her hair slipped through his grasp. She stomped her foot down on his, then drove her elbow into his groin. He staggered, but managed to get a grip on her hair with his free hand. His sword glinted in the gloom.

  Amelia slashed low, her blade shattering his knee. With a roar of pain, he sagged, struggling to raise his sword again. Another cutlass swung over her head from behind, the heavy blade driving into flesh and bone. The hot, salty spray of blood splashed across her face.

  She pushed past the pirate’s collapsing form, just in time to see the other pirate drop her sword and raise her hands in surrender. Amelia threw the woman up against the bulkhead, sword to her neck. The woman’s eyes were hard, but as they stared into Amelia’s, the
y filled with fear.

  Amelia felt the power coursing through her, felt the pressure of her blade as it started to press against the pirate’s skin.

  “I’ll take that prisoner,” boomed a strong, female voice to her side.

  Still pinning the pirate, Amelia glanced back and saw Chief Sky striding forward, flanked by her own team of sailors. The assaulter loomed into Amelia’s space, her dark gaze calm and authoritative. Slowly, slowly, Amelia lessened the pressure of her sword, then drew it back.

  Sky immediately grabbed the pirate and pushed her expertly to the ground, binding her wrists in a swift, practiced motion.

  “Check the cargo,” she ordered.

  Amelia moved to open the airlock hatch, but the controls failed to respond. Then she noticed the red alarm of vacuum beyond. Peering through the porthole, she saw nothing but empty space through the narrow opening beyond.

  “She jettisoned it,” Amelia hissed.

  “Well,” Sky said slowly, pressing her knee down on the pirate’s back, “that makes me very unhappy.”

  “Can we retrieve it?” one of her sailors asked, stepping forward.

  “No,” Amelia said, scanning again through the porthole. “Stuff that size . . . It’s gone.”

  The force of the air blast out of a breached airlock would have rocketed the cargo outward at tremendous speed, Amelia knew. And with no gravity from the tiny comet below to slow them down, the strongboxes would already be past escape velocity and headed for the Abyss. Nothing that small, in the vastness of space, would ever be found.

  “Damnation,” she whispered.

  Liam’s initial questions to the pirate prisoners had so far been met with stubborn silence. Hedge was covering them with her pistol as she leaned heavily against a console. Song opened his medikit and unwound the bandages. Liam glanced at the bridge displays, looking for clues, his saber still at the ready.

  Song eased the gauze up under Hedge’s armor. She gasped as a new torrent of blood splashed down on the deck, dropping her pistol with a clatter that echoed in the silence. Liam’s gaze flickered over to where Hedge collapsed against Song.