Resurgence

by Stephen A. Fender

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s far too late for that, Pryce. See, I know that you knew Robert Glasco. Or was it Bobby?” he laughed maniacally. “I can never keep it straight.”

  “And how did you come by that information? Hack his computer? Torture him? You did kill him, after all.”

  “To answer the second part first, he was alive when he jumped from this system. At least, I’m pretty sure he was. At times, my men are not as thorough as I’d like. And, as for the first part, I would have gladly done those things, but I didn’t have to. In fact, he dispensed a wealth of information once he’d been properly motivated.”

  “He’d never have told you anything openly.”

  Trahl waved a hand to one of the men standing behind Alasdair. When he stepped forward, the face was unmistakable.

  “Devin?”

  It was Devin Trumbul, a respected intelligence officer for Dasyt Subsector, not to mention Bobby’s right-hand man for that last, fateful mission. His round, cherubic face looking out of place in this den of pirates. “Good to see you, Al. Been a while.”

  “Devin, what are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I’m here for the money, Al. Lots of it. More credits than I could’ve ever made in intelligence. Captain Trahl here made me a very enticing offer, one I just couldn’t let slip away.”

  Trahl chuckled to himself. “I was going to kill him, but his intelligence has been quite helpful.”

  Alasdair paid Trahl little mind. “Devin, what the hell did you tell these people?”

  “Oh, I told them everything, Al. Everything.”

  “You gave them Bobby.”

  Trumbul nodded. “Wasn’t easy, though. I’ll tell you I lost a few nights of sleep over it.”

  Alasdair was filled with rage but was unable to free himself from the men holding him. “You’re going to get plenty of sleep when I’m done with you, Trumbul. A lifetime’s worth. Count on it.”

  But Trumbul lazily dismissed him. “Stop being so dramatic, mate. That’s your biggest flaw, you know. You always had to have the last word, the big speech, the final punch. It’s what got you to where you are now, and that pretty much looks like the end. Kinda sad, actually.”

  “They killed him, Devin! We worked together… trusted each other. He was your friend. Bobby was my friend!”

  “Friends don’t get you rich, Al. You gotta do that all on your own, make the tough choices, ya know? I agreed to give the captain here all the intel he wanted on anyone who might come sniffing around here. In return, his benefactor is making sure I’m taken care of for the rest of my life. I gotta say, I didn’t think you of all people had the platinum orbs for it, let alone be sober enough to actually try it. I’ll give you credit.”

  Benefactor? Then Cin Trahl isn’t the man in charge. “I’ll give you more than that, Devin. A Lot more.”

  Trumbul hung his head in mock sadness. “I’m sorry to see you go, buddy. In another reality—hell, in this reality—you might have made something for yourself here with these people. A lot more than whatever you got back home. We could have been sitting rich on our own planet, just the two of us. Now I’ll just be alone, surrounded by a whole lot of money.”

  Alasdair was seething with anger. “You’re a traitor, Trumbul, and if the last thing I do I’m going to hunt you down and shoot you like the flea-ridden mongrel you are.”

  “Got news for you, Al—this meeting is probably the last thing you do. Sorry to disappoint.”

  It was Trahl’s turn to speak. “So, I’ll ask you one more time: where is the rest of your team? The shuttle we found could carry at least four others.”

  But they haven’t detected the Rose. That’s good news. “I don’t have a team. If you believed anything this piece of rubbish Trumbul just spewed, you’d know I’ve got nobody to back me up out here. I came here alone because Arbrer intelligence is ready to brush all this under the rug, and I wasn’t about to let them do that. You killed my friend, and I came for you on my own.”

  Trahl smiled menacingly. “I assure you, if they intend to sweep this under the rug, they’re going to have a hard time doing that after today.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “As Mr. Trumbul has stated, our benefactors in this operation have something big planned for this subsector, this whole quadrant if we play our cards right.” This provoked a round of raucous laughter from the assembled pirates. “We plan on fundamentally shifting the balance of power in the whole of the sector, and the Lady Calton is the means to do it. And once we’re done, we’ll have more than enough credits to do whatever we want wherever we want without fear of anyone coming after us. The age of unfettered piracy will be reborn, and I will be their model. Their leader.”

  “Their pirate king,” Alasdair groaned.

  “Quite so.”

  He couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the monologue. “And there’s nothing I can do to stop you, right?”

  “Actually, I can’t be certain. You have the potential to be quite the troublemaker, and that’s something I can’t abide. So, Mr. Trumbul, if you would be so kind, please take Mr. Pryce down to the lower decks and kill him.”

  “Me?” Devin sounded authentically surprised.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I… no. No problem. I just didn’t think I’d have to kill anybody. I was just here for the intelligence.”

  “And your intelligence has directly led to the deaths of numerous compatriots of yours, and you’ve been well rewarded for those efforts. In fact, I see another bonus coming your way in the next few minutes.”

  “A bonus?”

  “Yes. Nice and large. Just be quick about it. We’re going to be lifting off shortly, and I’d like to remove any excess weight.”

  Trumbul didn’t hesitate. “Well, then.” He grabbed Alasdair by the back of his shirt, whirled him around until he was facing the door and then pushed him through. “Come on, Al. Time to meet that maker of yours.”

  Chapter 21

  Looking down at the limited sensor readings on her wrist computer, Kristin watched as the crew from the Cobalt Rose approached the source of Alasdair's beacon. Comparing the readout to her surroundings, she knew the coordinates were just beyond a small hill in front of them. Motioning to Thad, he cautiously moved to the top of the rise, high-powered binoculars in hand. After surveying the situation, he motioned for the rest of the crew to join him.

  When Kristin reached the summit, she was amazed by what she saw. In the clearing below, surrounded by a half-dozen derelict and destroyed starships, was their target: The Lady Calton. The ship, far more substantial than she expected, was sitting peacefully on her landing legs just beyond a cave large enough to hide the ship from their initial scans. Hoses and power lines were extended into the vessel, which was surrounded by a bustle of activity as the crew worked to prepare it for takeoff. Based on the plumes of pressurized gases being released from the outdated but enormous drive engines that flanked her stern, that departure was imminent.

  Thad pointed towards the bow and the wide ramp extending down to the surface. "That's probably the main cargo hold. The smaller gangways flanking it would be for crew only."

  Kristin agreed. "Neither would be a good way to get in. There are too many crewmen around." She turned to Quinn. "What do we know about these older ships?"

  Quinn flipped open his small computer, which was already displaying a schematic. "I put together some historical data and combined it with Alasdair's sensor image. Seems that the Lady Calton is based on a Thressian designed Oasis-class exploration vessel, but she's been heavily modified. The drive modules have been upgraded, multiple hard points have been added, and I’m guessing advanced sensors were tacked on, as well."

  Mia looked at the ship down in the valley. "How advanced?"

  "Impossible to tell without getting closer. Visually, the central command section looks mostly unchanged from the original design. But I don't judge books by their covers."

  Kristin
took out her own pair of binoculars. "What about access points other than the obvious ones?"

  Quinn called up more detailed information on the class. "Since the Oasis-class was designed to be used for exploration and colonization, there are probably a dozen or more ways into the ship."

  "All likely to be sealed or monitored," Thad grumbled. "And, once we get in… if we get in, we won't even know where to being looking for Pryce."

  Kirstin had a thought on that. "The most likely spot would be in or near the command section. If the ship ever had a brig or security station, it'd be there. In any event, we're not leaving without him, so if that means searching that entire vessel from top to bottom, that’s just what we’re going to do.”

  "If Quinn can pinpoint a discreet entrance, I can get us in," Mia said.

  Kristin looked at Mia, who was adjusting her bracelet. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. I'm sure." She pulled her sleeve down over her bracelet. "Mostly."

  "I think I've got something," Quinn said, though he sounded unsure. "There's a maintenance hatch near the stern, port side. It should give us access to the rest of the ship if it's not welded shut."

  Kristin then turned back to the ship below. The large drive nozzles embedded into the flared stern sections were starting to vent even more excess gas, a sign of a pending liftoff. "It looks like they're getting ready to leave, and there are no other space-worthy ships nearby. I say we wait until everyone down there is onboard before we move out."

  Thad nodded. "That should make the approach easier, but there's a lot of cleared ground between the Lady Calton and our position. We'll have to move quickly."

  Kristin noticed the same thing, then pointed to the forest behind the ship. "We can skirt the tree line until we get around to the stern."

  "And if they decide to take off before we make it onboard, we'll be fried," Quinn added sardonically.

  "We'll have to take that chance. Come on."

  * * *

  Based on the frame numbers stenciled into the bulkheads, Alasdair reckoned he was moving forward inside the ship. He and his executioner were marching down a narrow, dimly lit passageway on deck two. Alasdair couldn't entertain the notion of a confrontation here—there wasn't enough room to maneuver, and he was having a difficult time discerning how far back the traitor Devin Trumbul was positioned.

  "Where are we going?"

  "There's no sense in carrying a dead body around with us," Trumbul replied, sounding bored. "And I don't want to drag your corpse through the ship to throw you out later. Since the captain wants to jump as soon as we reach orbit, there won't be time. Though, I will admit that spacing you does have a certain appeal to it."

  Spacing: death by ejection from an airlock. "Even you wouldn't be so callous."

  "Money does funny things to people, Al."

  "You had a good life on Arbrer, Devin. A respectable job, a wife. Why throw it all away?"

  Trumbul chuckled. "Show's how much you know, Al. I hated that job. Worst pay in the quadrant, lousy hours, and the benefits were a joke. And my wife? That marriage had been on the rocks for years. I was happy to leave."

  Alasdair turned his head, seeing Devin about two meters behind. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about you and—"

  Trumbul quickened his pace, shoving the barrel of his pistol into Alasdair's back. "Don't," he growled. "Don't say her name, and don't give me your pity. I don't need it."

  He turned his eyes front and kept walking. "Fine. Forget I said anything." Through another hatch, they came to a stairwell.

  "I shouldn't be too hard on you, Al. Very soon you won't be able to say anything to anyone."

  At the bottom of the stairs was another door that opened into an airlock. If the previous passageway was tight, the airlock was even more so. Devin closed the inner door, and a series of commands allowed the outer door to open. Alasdair was expecting to see the light of day, but he found they were now in a much larger compartment. There was only one place they could be, and this was confirmed when they rounded a corner and Alasdair noted the main cargo ramp in the distance, and the sunlight bathing the forward hold as crewmen moved about. To his right, a series of crates were piled a few meters high. Beside them was something that caught his attention. Perfect. But, he’d have to move quickly.

  "You're just going to toss me aside? Like you did with everything else in your life when it got rough?"

  "I sleep just fine at night with my choices."

  "Choices," Alasdair scoffed. "First your government, then your planet, then Bobby, now me. I just wonder when Sarah came into play?"

  "I told you not to say her name."

  "I can't say I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two. If I'd have known you two were having trouble, I might have gone over there to pay her a visit." Alasdair noted Devin once again quickened his pace. "Just one thing: does Sarah know what a treasonous bastard you are, or did you not have the guts to tell her?"

  "That's enough!"

  As soon as Alasdair felt the muzzle in his back, he instantly twisted, grabbing Trumbul's wrist with his left hand and punching the man square in the jaw with his right. The impact fazed Devin enough to allow Alasdair the opportunity he needed to wrest the weapon from his captors’ grip. There wasn't time for witty remarks or curses. Alasdair grabbed Trumbul by the jacket, pulled him into an embrace, and fired point-blank. Trumbul, once stiff with rage, began to go limp. "That was for Bobby." As soon as the body hit the deck, Alasdair dashed to his goal beside the crates.

  * * *

  Outside, obscured by the dense forest, Kristin and her crew rounded the stern of the Lady Calton. When most of the crew started to board the vessel, she knew it was time to act. "Come on!"

  The four ran across the open, grassy field toward their objective. Kristin hoped that none of the external cameras were on. Considering the origin of the pirate cruiser, it was likely that the exterior was bristling with ship-to-ground weapon batteries. The closer the crew got to the ship, the more concerned she became they were going to be fired upon. They were half-way to their goal when the first salvoes fired.

  But they weren't directed at her or her crew, or even at the stern. Stopping in their tracks, the crew of the Cobalt Rose watched as laser fire spewed from the forward cargo ramp of the Lady Calton. Then another noise arose—a high-pitched, reverberating whine. Confused, she watched as a land buggy ejected itself at high speed from the hold, barreling down the last few meters of the ramp and kicking up loose grass as it hit the surface. More weapons fire followed both from inside the bay and from the ships exterior cannons, straddling the buggy with impacts.

  She knew it was Alasdair. It had to be. Thank God.

  The vehicle turned abruptly, traveling down the length of the Lady Calton as fast as it could. Good idea. Stay as close to the ship as long as possible to avoid the big guns.

  As he neared their position, Kristin and Mia began waving their arms frantically. Alasdair stopped long enough for them to get onboard. When Thad was a few paces away, Alasdair watched as the mercenary reached into his coat and withdrew two gleaming daggers. Still at full stride, Thad hurled the daggers toward Alasdair. As the knifes passed within centimeters of his face, Alasdair swore he saw his own bewildered expression reflected in the polished blades. He turned, following their flight until they each landed squarely into the bodies of two armed pirates that’d exited from concealed hatches in the Lady Calton. When he turned back, everyone was onboard the buggy.

  “Nice throw,” Alasdair complemented.

  “Don’t thank me, just drive!”

  Alasdair stomped on the accelerator and made a quick dash for the tree line. More weapons fire erupted, striking the trees beyond the buggy and making small craters in the surrounding grass.

  “And you’re going to pay me back for those knives,” Thad shouted over the whine of the engine. “They were a gift.”

  Chunks of turf exploded around the vehicle as it made one final leap into the forest and safety.

&nb
sp; Chapter 22

  Alasdair kept the off-road vehicle at full throttle until the crew was safely back inside the Cobalt Rose’s cargo bay. It wasn’t until everyone was offloaded that Kristin noticed blood on Alasdair’s left shoulder.

  “You’ve been hit,” she said, rounding the vehicle to help him out.

  “I’m not as lucky as Mia.” With one hand on the roll cage and the other held tightly by Kristin, he hefted himself onto the deck. “It’s just a scratch.”

  Kristin found a rag nearby and began dressing the wound. “Then you won’t mind if I just wrap it nice and tight.” She cinched it hard, drawing a yelp from her first officer. “Quit your whining,” she said, offering him a wink.

  “Thanks for coming after me.”

  Quinn stood beside Mia, both with their arms folded. “We helped too, you know?”

  Kristin checked her bandage. “You look like you managed just fine on your own.”

  “Shocking,” Thad laughed. “But still impressive.”

  Alasdair smiled. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Don’t push your luck. You owe me.”

  “Thad, you were facing rear,” Kristin asked. “Were we followed?”

  “Not that I could see.”

  Alasdair carefully removed his outer vest, trying not to disturb Kristin’s handiwork. “They’re getting ready for takeoff. They probably don’t have the time.”

  Kristin nodded. “Then we need to do the same. We’re going to be a sitting duck here on the ground.”

  There was a muffled cry from the side of the cargo hold. Alasdair saw a gagged, scaly man with wide yellow eyes squirming. “What’s this?”

  “Deadweight,” said Thad as he withdrew his sword.

  “Thad, no,” Kristin admonished. “We might need him. Just leave him be. We’ve got to get airborne. Alasdair, you and Mia come with me. Quinn, I need you in the engine room.”

  “And me?” Thad snapped. “Am I to be stuck here guarding this trog?”