by James Wilks
Yegor’s voice came through again. “Da, Kapitan, but wouldn’t that be better than pirates on the ship? Pressure doors would seal, yes?”
“In theory, yes.” The elevator neared the end of its ponderous climb. “And we may have to do that, but we’re not there yet. I’ll be in the cockpit in one minute.” The doors slid open and she pushed off with her legs, moving rapidly down corridors to the spine of the ship and the cockpit beyond.
As the other ship’s boarding tube magnetically sealed to the side of Gringolet, Dinah was closing and latching the door to the ReC. She pushed and pulled her way down the corridor, moving much faster than Staples had scarcely a minute before. She made the same turns, then brought herself to an abrupt halt at the first porthole she came to. By craning her neck, she was able to see where the boarding tube was attached, one deck down and several yards towards the stern of the ship. Upon reaching the elevator a few seconds later, she produced a screwdriver and struck the safety latch hidden at the top of the door, which promptly slid open. Grabbing the upper lip of the elevator portal, she swung her legs up and in, aimed herself down the shaft, relatively speaking, and fired herself off at the door below her. From inside the elevator shaft, it was a simple matter to trigger the door release mechanism and to propel herself out onto the lower deck.
Another few twists and turns brought her face to face with Kojo Jang and his two new security personnel. Jang had evidently been near a weapons locker, because he was armed with a rifle, several clips of ammunition, and a pistol. Parsells and Quinn, rifles slung, were moving awkwardly behind him when Dinah came around the corner. When Jang stopped short, they nearly ran into him.
“Corridor B17,” she said without preamble. “That’s where they’ll be coming through.” Jang only nodded silently and tossed her the pistol from his holster. It floated straight at her, and she caught it as she moved towards a branching hallway that would take them in the direction they needed to go. Jang and Dinah led, and the two other men followed, a small flotilla of armed crew members.
Dinah allowed Jang to surge ahead as they neared the door that led to the corridor where she had estimated the boarders would be cutting through. The large bald man grabbed the door handle roughly with his ebony hand and eased it open. They could immediately hear and smell the cutting, though they could not yet see it. The air was acrid with the scent of a focused laser cutting metal. The hallway in front of them branched left and right, and it was from the left that the sounds of hull breach were coming. Once the door was open, Jang eased his head around the corner and gazed down the hall.
The wall of the ship was perhaps six meters away, and another hallway that led towards the aftmost compartments of the ship branched off after half of that distance. The smoke and choking gasses released by the laser cutting through the hull were becoming worse, and it was clear that the pirates’ circular entryway was nearly finished. Jang checked his rifle, cocked it, and removed the safety. Dinah readied her pistol and gestured to Quinn to move up. Quinn did his best to push past the woman and placed himself in a sitting position by using his legs and back to brace himself against either side of the corridor they occupied. Jang floated above him, leaning out the best he could and training his rifle on the hole. It was a poor place for cover, but shooting a semi-automatic rifle in zero G was problematic at best. If the shooter was not secured, they could easily send themselves spinning out into the line of fire or accidentally aim a weapon at a friend.
Dinah tapped her watch and spoke into it. “Captain, I’m with Jang, Parsells, and Quinn. We’re at B17. They’re cutting through into the ship. We’re armed and ready to repel, but it’s not a very defensible position.”
Staples voice came through immediately. “Roger. They may just want fuel or cargo. Don’t put yourselves at risk for-” And then there was no time to talk because the circular disc of the hull had come loose. It moved purposefully into the corridor; someone was behind it, pushing it forward, using it as cover. Jang opened fire, and the sound was deafening in the enclosed space. Quinn was shooting as well, but there was very little of the aggressors to see. It was easy to hide behind cover when one could travel horizontally. Bullets thudded against the large metal disc, its sides still orange and glowing from the heat of the laser.
After a few moments of fire, Jang realized that it was pointless until he could find a clear shot. He ceased and yelled for Quinn to do the same. The large man fired a few more rounds, then complied with the order. Jang shook his head in dismay.
“How are they steering that thing?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know. Probably magnetic grips on the other side,” Jang conjectured.
Dinah nodded. “If they’ve got jetpacks, they can push that piece of the hull all the way up here.”
Jang leaned out again to look. “They’re not firing back. Perhaps we should approach and try-” his sentence cut off as his head snapped back and he was thrown violently across the narrow hallway and into Quinn, who swore and tried to move out of the way. Dinah and Parsells both braced a hand in the open doorway and pulled the limp body of the security chief back through the door. Quinn regained his bearings and leveled his rifle.
“They’re shooting now!” he yelled, and fired off several shots which pinged harmlessly against the disc. This time he saw it: a hand with a weapon extended around the disc and fired. He jerked his head back just in time, and some large, slow moving projectile bounced off of the wall where his head had been half a second earlier.
Dinah was holding the unmoving and unresponsive Jang in one arm, her other hand drum-tight around a grab bar on the wall. Parsells and Quinn’s features showed a mix of stress and fear as they stared at him. His eyes were closed. She examined the wound to his head and then noticed the blood on her hand. She looked up, wide eyed, at the two men, and then back down at her bloody hand.
“Lock this door, now!” she barked. “Don’t open it for anyone or anything.” The woman did not wait for a reply, but swung herself around and launched herself back down the hall the way they had come, looking for all the world like a mouse scurrying away from a hungry cat.
When the captain reached the cockpit, it was empty. Staples suffered a stunned moment of silence, then moved into action. She pushed herself over to the starboard cockpit window and was just able to make out the boarding tube latched onto her ship like the proboscis of some venomous insect. Even at only a few meters away, the other ship was difficult to see because of its black finish. She judged that it was smaller and faster than her vessel; perhaps an old style military interceptor. There had been little in the way of large scale space combat since space ships had become a fixture in the inner system, but that didn’t stop governments and corporations from preparing for it. This was just the type of vessel that was designed to do exactly what it was doing: board a larger, slower ship and steal cargo, take hostages, or commandeer the vessel.
“Captain!” Charis shouted as she soared into the cockpit, accidently sending herself past the doorway and into the consoles at the front of the room. She worked to reorient herself in the air, and managed to save herself from anything more than a bruised shoulder. Though her blonde hair was in a ponytail, it threatened to obscure her vision as she righted herself.
“I’m here, Charis,” Staples said as she turned herself around and pushed off for her captain’s chair.
A minute later, Bethany and Templeton had joined them in the room.
“What do we know?” Templeton asked as he clipped himself into his seat with his safety harness.
“First, did anyone see Yegor? He was up here a minute ago,” Staples inquired.
“I passed him,” came Bethany’s reedy voice.
“Where was he going?” Staples struggled to retain control of her voice. She knew from experience that yelling at the girl would only cause her to shut down.
“I don’t know. The back of the ship, I think. He didn’t say.” The pilot’s eyes were large with fear.
“Okay, w
e’ll deal with that in a minute.”
Charis said desperately, “Captain, can’t we just pull away?”
Staples opened her mouth to answer, but then Dinah’s voice came out of the watch on her wrist. “Captain, I’m with Jang, Parsells, and Quinn. We’re at B17. They’re cutting through into the ship. We’re armed and ready to repel, but it’s not a very defensible position.”
She tapped her watch to reply. “Roger. They may just want fuel or cargo. Don’t put yourselves at risk for-” Suddenly there was the sound of gunfire and the line went dead. A half a second of silence followed. She forced herself to answer her navigator’s question. “Once they form a magnetic junction, that bond is tougher than steel. It has to be, or this wouldn’t work. If we pull away, we could well rip a hole in the side of the ship. We may have to do that, but we’ve got a security team down there fighting, and I don’t want to take the risk of blowing them out into space.”
“Can we shoot them?” Charis asked. Staples was reminded of her similar question two and a half weeks prior during their conflict with the Doris Day.
“We can,” Templeton said suggestively, though he knew what his captain’s answer would be.
“We’re too close. At this range, shrapnel and debris could tear us apart. Besides, they haven’t shot at us.” Templeton looked at her with wide-eyed frustration, though he would not contradict her in a crisis situation. She addressed his objection anyway. “I’m not saying they’re friendly. What I mean is this: they got the drop on us. Completely. If they wanted to destroy the ship and sift through the remains, they had every opportunity. They don’t want to kill us.”
“You mean they don’t want to destroy the ship,” Templeton countered.
“You’re right. It is very possible they want to kill us and take the ship. If it becomes clear that that is their intention, then we’ll do what we have to. I’ll tear this ship to pieces myself before I let them have it.” Charis and Bethany both looked at their captain. “But,” she said to calm them. “But, they may just be here for a smash and grab. Maybe they want fuel, maybe cargo, maybe parts. If that’s the case, I’m inclined to let them have them.”
“But Captain, if they take all of our fuel…” Charis’ question did not need finishing.
“Then we’ll drift here until a rescue ship comes for us. I can live with that, but I won’t trade lives for gas.”
“Well how do we know what they’re here for? Wait until they kill one of us?” Templeton inquired desperately.
“If Jang and Dinah and the others have them pinned at B17, the only areas they have access to are the engines and rear storage. As far as I know, no one is back there. Except…” Her voice drifted off. She punched another button on her watch. “Dinah, come in.” There was no response. Precious seconds ticked away. “Dinah!” Nothing. She hit another button. “Jang, are you there?” Silence. “Jang?”
A second later, Parsells’ voice came through loudly. “Jang is hit!” No sounds of gunfire or fighting echoed in the background. Parsells’ voice was oddly surrounded by silence.
“Is he dead?” Templeton asked.
“No, stunned. They hit him in the head with a stunner. He’s bleeding, but he’s just out cold.” Parsells’ reply was abrupt and tinged with doubt.
“What’s your status, man?” Templeton’s voice was insistent.
“Engineer ordered us to close the door, so we did. They’re not trying to come through here. Don’t know what they’re doing.” Staples unbuckled herself from her seat and swung herself around her chair.
“Stand by, Parsells,” Templeton said, and then looked at her. “Captain, what are you doing?”
“They’re after the stasis tubes,” she replied flatly. She pushed herself off the back of her chair and towards the locked weapons locker on the back wall of the cockpit.
“What?” Templeton rasped. “The stasis tubes? How could they know? How do you know?”
Staples stopped herself and began typing the code into the keypad. “They’re using stun rounds. They’ve boarded on the same floor as CB4. They’re not trying to take the rest of the ship. This isn’t some random pirate raid.” Wrenching the door open revealed a row of seven rifles and one empty slot. She pulled out a rifle. “This is a contracted hit. We should assume they have blueprints of our ship, details of the crew, everything.” She pulled out a pistol and strapped it to her hip. Charis had unclipped herself from her seat to watch, but she made no move towards the guns. Bethany sunk lower in her chair. The first mate shed his seatbelt and launched himself towards his captain.
“What are you doing, Clea?” Templeton asked, though it was plainly obvious to the first mate.
Staples strapped the rifle to her back. “We are responsible for those people, Don. I am responsible. We took money; we said we would deliver them, safely, to Cronos Station.”
“Well, you’d better hand me one of those then,” he replied, reaching out his hand as he halted himself with his other on the bulkhead.
“When was the last time you practiced with one of these?”
Templeton shrugged. “Probably about the last time you did: a few months ago now. Does it matter?”
“No, I don’t suppose it does,” she replied as she passed him a rifle. “Bethany, Charis, I want you to say here. You have the ship. Try to find Dinah. We may need to break away after all, and I want you here.”
Yegor Durin shoved himself violently down the various metal hallways of Gringolet, a rifle strapped to his back. As he approached the last juncture that would take him to B17, he heard the voice of one of the new men, he thought it was Parsells, say “…know what they’re doing.” He rounded the corner and saw the battle, such as it was. The door into B17 was closed, and Quinn was holding onto a bar on the wall. His other beefy arm was wrapped around Jang, who was unconscious. A few droplets of blood floated free in the zero-gravity environment. Parsells was braced against the opposite wall and holding up Jang’s arm. He had just finished speaking into the unmoving man’s watch. Both of them had rifles slung on their backs, and a third rifle, presumably Jang’s, floated lightly from its strap where someone had tethered it to a grip bar.
As he pushed himself down the hall to the three men, he heard Templeton’s voice come through a communicator watch. “Stand by, Parsells.”
Parsells and Quinn looked up at him as he approached. He seized the grip handle just short of their position and braced himself to stop his momentum. “Is he all right?” He nodded at Jang.
“Just stunned,” Parsells responded.
“What are you doing here?” Yegor asked, a hint of accusation in his voice.
Parsells immediately looked defensive. “Engineer lady told us to close the door and not open it for anything.”
“Dinah? Where is she?” Parsells shrugged. “What are the pirates doing?” Parsells shrugged again. Yegor grunted with frustration and shook his head.
“Look, we’re just following orders here. Figure we got ‘em contained in the back of the ship.” Yegor did not reply, but he unslung his rifle and reached for the door. Parsells raised a hand as if to restrain him. “Whoa there, man. She said to keep this door closed to everyone, no matter what.”
The communications officer stopped and looked at the two men. “We are under attack. This ship is under attack. We cannot just float here like fools. Now move!” There was a moment where it looked as though Parsells would put up a fight, then he reluctantly swung himself out of the way. “You want to stay here, fine,” Yegor said. He wrenched the door open and leveled his rifle. He inched forward, peering around the corner. The large circular section of hull had been braced on the near side of the adjoining hallway to act as a shield, and it covered nearly all of his view between that hallway and the boarding tube magnetically locked to the ship beyond the freshly cut hole. In the small window of space between the disc and the wall, Yegor could see two men in body armor pushing a large, metal, coffin-like box towards the boarding tube and the pirate ship beyond.
>
“Get back here!” Parsells hissed. “They’ll see you! We got to close the door!”
“You have to the close the door, close the door,” he said and pushed off towards the waiting pirates and the stasis tube beyond.
Not viewscreens, not windows, not portholes: nothing compared to seeing the stars from inside an EVA suit when floating in naked space. Dinah had admired them many times before though a thin piece of polycarbonate, but she was in too great of a rush to do so now. She pushed herself out of the small airlock chamber and into an untethered drift. The smaller black ship loomed above her, and she could clearly see the metal boarding tube that it had extended perpendicular to the long axis of both ships. From the bottom, they somewhat resembled the spires of a bridge, one larger and gunmetal grey, the other smaller and jet black, with a thin strip of roadway between them. Dinah gripped the controls of her jetpack and aimed herself towards the portion of the enemy ship from where the boarding tube extended.
It only took a minute of thrusting to cross the one hundred meters of space. Hard-won experience had taught her to keep her eyes on the ships in question and not to look around, tempted as she might be by the stars. It was entirely too easy for one to lose one’s sense of direction. The human mind evolved over the course of millions of years, always with a solid concept of up. It could be extremely taxing to be in an environment where there was no true up.
Once she reached the base of the long cylindrical shaft, she used the jetpack to push herself over to the ship. “Come on… come on…” she muttered as she searched. “There.” She was halfway around the tube when she found the access panel. A screwdriver and a focused minute of work later, the access panel cover was removed, and Dinah carelessly tossed it over her shoulder. Under it lay a thick black electrical cord. She gripped it with her left hand, bracing herself, and reached with her right hand for the cutting torch tethered to her belt. Like the screwdriver, it was attached to a wire which unspooled as she pulled so that it could not get away from her if she let go of it. She flicked the safety off and ignited it. The torch began to glow, and a second later a short white-hot flame emerged. It was the matter of only a minute’s work to cut power to the electromagnets holding the ships together. As she completed the job, she looked over and saw the two ships separate.
