by Mark Wandrey
“I understand that, Enforcer,” Alexis said, referring to the Peacemaker by his title; “however, if they are not stopped they can do considerable damage to my ship and possibly escape.” She looked back at the tactical screen. “Besides, they’re pirates, not crazies. There’s no profit in death.”
“They are signaling surrender,” her communications officer, a Buma, said. There was a murmur of celebration on the bridge. She wasn’t sold yet.
“What’s their status, Flipper?” The sensor tech, an aquatic Selroth, took no offense at his nickname. He’d long become accustomed to the Human habit of nicknaming aliens with unpronounceable names. He’d watched some of the old Earth TV shows to see where his moniker came from, and he had found the being admirable.
“They are powering down both reactors,” he burbled from inside his full helmet. He could wear a water mask if necessary, but at battle stations he preferred the full head bubble. Should the ship get hulled, he only had to add gloves, and he was space-ready. “They’ve stabilized their flight and are working to control the damage. Some secondary damage to their ship appears to be the result of over-G maneuvers.”
“Noted. Helm, reduce thrust to one gravity and bring us onto an intercept course for the pirate ship.”
“Your ship and tactics are…unique,” the Enforcer said.
“Oh?” Alexis replied casually. “Have you studied starship combat? The Equiri aren’t a merc race.”
“No,” the Enforcer replied, “I’m an outlier in our race. There are a surprising number of our kind who enjoy physical conflict. Prior to our joining the Union, they tended to end up in more violent sports. It was our society’s way of channeling that aggression.” Alexis nodded, watching her bridge team work more than listening to the alien. “However, as part of my Peacemaker training, we are instructed in all manners of warfare.” Now he had her attention.
“Indeed?” she said. “Humans don’t yet have any Enforcers in your guild, if I recall?” He shook his head, the huge mane of bright red hair waving back and forth.
“Not yet,” he said. “Your race is about to gain full membership. At that point, you will need to begin supplying staff. Up until now, it’s been voluntary.” Alexis nodded again, she’d known that much. “As I mentioned, the space combat orientation is part of our training. I found it interesting because my people do not go into space travel much.” He gestured to his imposing body’s stature. “Most space based races tend more towards your stature. It makes it uncomfortable for us.”
“I can see that.”
“During this study we, of course, learned how the majority of races use their layered defensive/offensive approach. Drones are used on intermediate targets only, because they tend to not carry out orders well beyond their instructions.”
“Yes,” Alexis agreed, “pity our AI tech is so underdeveloped.” The Enforcer’s huge eyes narrowed a bit.
“Your drones are incredibly capable,” he noted.
“I have good programmers.”
“I see. Anyway, because drones don’t improvise, races tend to only use them on clear targets that aren’t exceptionally good at evading. They are not cheap, and to have them go crazy and attack meaningless targets or just wander around when the ship they were sent to engage is gone, is a waste of assets. You employed them almost immediately, rather like most use seeker drones. And your spinal mount allowed you to project power at an extreme range for that type of weapon.” Alexis just listened. “I assume the drones provided hyper accurate targeting data?” She shrugged, and he showed pointed teeth. “What would you do if you encountered one of the truly powerful space merc races? They use carriers and project hundreds of drones against your few dozen.”
“Why, destroy the carrier first,” she said, and showed her own teeth. The Equiri’s grin faltered. “Paka?” Her Veetanho second-in-command turned from her control console, pointy nose wiggling and whiskers moving. She looked very rat-like at that moment, even with the dark goggles over her eyes.
“Ma’am?”
“Do we have an update on those boarding pods the pirates launched?”
“They are still on course for the Topul’s Pride,” Paka said. “They should intercept in fifteen minutes.” They’d already tried to get the SleSha to recall them. The little wasp bastards were claiming inability, or failed communications, or some other bullshit.
“Can we get the drones to them before, or target them ourselves?” Alexis consulted Edwards, their TacCom, or tactical command officer, who was the only other Human on the bridge. A black man in his late fifties, he had a form of dwarfism which his parents couldn’t afford to have treated with nanites when he was a child. He had compensated for his size by excelling in math and had become the best weapons officer Alexis had ever worked with.
“They’ve maneuvered so the heavy hauler is in the threat box,” Edwards said. “We might pick off a couple, and punch holes in the whale too.” Alexis knew he meant the transport and nodded, considering. The communications system issued a series of beeps, indicating an inbound transmission. She looked down; it was the master of the Topul’s Pride.
“Speak of the devil,” she said with a chuckle.
“Why do you speak to the devil?” the Enforcer wondered aloud. Alexis ignored him.
“Accept the call,” she told the computer, which handled mundane tasks like regular communications.
“Why have you allowed my ship to be attacked?!” demanded the captain of the Topul’s Pride, his visage appearing along with the annoying voice. He was a Sidar, rather like a bat crossed with a pteranodon, complete with long leathery wings. He snapped his long-toothed beak repeatedly in nervous annoyance. “That was not part of the contract!”
“The contract was not just with you,” Alexis reminded him. “The Winged Hussars were employed by the Trade Guild to intercept pirates operating in the Inner Crapti Rift.” She gestured randomly. “Those pirates look intercepted to me.”
“You could have simply destroyed them the minute they made weapons lock! That is allowed.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “it is. However, we also have a contract with the Peacemakers Guild to take the ship intact for return to the Oogar.”
“Peacemakers?” the Sidar captain asked, somewhat taken aback.
“Yes,” the Enforcer said, able to stand now that the thrust was reduced to one gravity. “That vessel was taken from the Oogar in an act of piracy. We are going to take the ship back to Uuwato, their home world, and put the SleSha pirates before the Mercenary Guild tribunal. Their race is becoming a growing problem, as you certainly realize.”
“What about the damage to my ship?” he asked, somewhat mulish now.
“Ask the SleSha,” the Enforcer said, and the captain glowered.
“They are boarding our ship,” he said, adopting a pleading tone. “What should we do?”
“You don’t have defensive forces?”
“We are between merc contracts. We have a few squads of Lumar that are employees of the ship…” Alexis snorted. The Lumar were a merc species, sure enough, so they’d fight. But they were about as bright as a brown dwarf. They were as big as an Equiri and more Human in appearance, although they had four arms instead of two. Their two redeeming qualities were their generally hard-to-kill natures and their willingness to do the most boring shit-work imaginable.
“What do you want us to do?” Alexis asked. “Your guild contracted us to stop the ship. We did.” She called up the contract on her slate, the small transparent computers that were nearly ubiquitous in the galaxy, and gave it a quick scan, even though she’d memorized it already. “There’s no clause for shipboard action.” The captain looked away and spoke to someone off camera, the mic muted. A moment later, he came back on.
“We wish to negotiate a contract rider.”
Alexis grinned.
* * * * *
Chapter 3
The SleSha leading Combat Team K didn’t have a name. Drones trained to lead combat teams didn’t
get names; they were identified by scent and visual keys. When assigned a unit, their thoraces were laser-etched and painted with slightly radioactive paint that was easy to detect in their race’s visual acuity range.
Team K’s pod forcefully mated with a docking collar on the Topul’s Pride within moments of the other nine pods. The SleSha didn’t use breaching pods, as they were expendable and tended to be lost in boarding actions. Their pods more closely resembled ship-to-ship skiffs, 20-foot-long cylinders with outboard motors and a single Union-type docking collar. When fully loaded with a combat team of 10 SleSha warriors and a team leader, as well as all their weapons and armor, it was a snug fit.
The team leaders served several functions. Besides being the on-site coordinators of the non-sentient warriors, they were also the heavy weapons experts, tacticians, and pod pilots. They were almost smart enough to have been mates for their queen, but not quite, so they were neutered and trained as team leaders.
“
The queen replied immediately. “
Team Leader K sent a wordless acknowledgement of receiving and understanding the order then left the pod’s controls. The warriors, almost twice the team leader’s size with huge mandibles that could cut light steel, floated in microgravity along both sides of the pod as he moved toward the lock at the rear.
“
The team leader reached the rear lock and confirmed a good seal was in place. He activated the controls, and the thin metal door segmented and rotated into its recesses, allowing access to the ship’s external door. He checked the controls; sometimes, the prey was stupid enough to leave them unlocked. This time they’d been wise.
He removed his secondary weapon, a medium-sized laser pistol and fired a single full-power shot. The gun buzzed, and a light, snapping sound indicated it had fired. The laser was in a specific wavelength that was visible to the SleSha, but not to many other species, giving them a tactical advantage. The beam sliced a half-inch wide, slightly angular hole through the lock. He waited to see if there was a hiss of escaping air, an indication the prey had decompressed the other side. That would also have been a wise move with boarding teams attacking, but this time, they hadn’t proved so smart. The atmospheric pressures were nearly identical.
“
It took 10 shots from both warriors to complete the circuit. There was a groan of slightly stressed metal and, with the last shots, the door broke free and fell to the floor with a clang. The two breaching warriors moved aside while they replaced their nearly-spent magazines with fresh ones. At the same time, the next two warriors braced themselves against footholds in the pod, lunged, and burst into the Topul’s Pride.
Gunfire instantly responded to their entrance as chemical weapons threw metal core ceramic pellets with considerable ballistic energy. One of the two breaching warriors was hit several times, and its bodily fluids sprayed from horrific injuries. The warrior possessed no concept of individual mortality. To it, the wounds were only an impediment to its mission. With its still-functioning arm, it swung its laser carbine forward and fired as it crashed into a wall.
A squad of five Lumar security specialists clung to the companionway. They hadn’t made any attempt to use the abundant cover available to ambush the boarders, otherwise they might have held the lock for quite some time. Tactics, however, were not a specialty of the Lumar; they were better as shock troops. The SleSha warrior killed two of them before it bled out.
The second, uninjured warrior rebounded off the far wall, crossing the corridor twice as it did. It drew several shots from the Lumar, who held their shotguns with all four arms and didn’t aim terribly well. None of the shots scored hits. The warrior snatched a K bomb from its belt and expertly heaved it down the corridor as it flew back to the pod.
“
The two warriors with armor plates moved forward, now using their shields as cover, and analyzed the results. The team leader watched through their eyes, assessing the results of the explosion. All five Lumar were dead. The ship’s structure was not breached.
“
“They are spinning the ship,” the team leader realized as the gravity changed. The defenders would have more of an advantage in higher gravity. It was unfortunate. The SleSha’s distant ancestors had possessed flight, and still had phenomenal spatial awareness and acrobatic ability. They were hellacious fighters in lower or null gravity. But ultimately, it mattered not. If the Lumar were all the prey had, the ship was as good as theirs.
In minutes, the team had prepared defensive positions while one of the warriors located a computer terminal and began accessing the Topul’s Pride network. The prey was just as digitally unprepared as they were tactically.
“
The team leader examined the map on his slate, quickly scrolling through the levels until he found the primary engineering control room. “” he sent to their queen, who instantly shared it with the other team leaders who shared his goal. By relaying their positions through the queen, they were immediately able to coordinate their actions, as the team leaders could only directly communicate with the queen and their own warriors.
The five teams took parallel routes toward engineering control. The heavy hauler’s massive interior spaces were symmetrical, intended to allow a crew to move easily with gravity or without. They were also designed to make it possible to use gravity from thrust as well as rotation. The ship was now both thrusting and rotating; for many races, that would have proven difficult to deal with. Once again, though, evolution favored the SleSha; they were unhindered. Moving with half
their force on the floor and the other half on the walls, they leapfrogged toward their destination, 500 yards and dozens of decks away.
They encountered a small team of Lumar and liquidated them with no casualties, as well as a maintenance crew of Sidar. The avians panicked at the sight of the onrushing SleSha and were quickly cut down, but not before they contacted the bridge. Knowing they had been spotted, the team leader altered their route to confuse the defenders. They were within 100 yards of their objective when the situation changed. Team I, which was further outboard, encountered resistance. In the center of his warrior’s formation, the team leader listened as the encounter played out.
The warrior on point for Team I was suddenly and instantly neutralized, without time to communicate how it had died. The team stopped immediately to assess the threat. The ship’s defenders hadn’t shown any weaponry capable of killing the warriors with a single shot, not even a lucky one. Then their rearguard was terminated.
“
The leader of Team L was killed, and the Team K leader lost all sense of what was going on in that quadrant. Calling up the schematics, he moved his team laterally to their previous course. The queen noted the remaining Team L warriors were wiped out without firing a shot at their attackers.
The team leader didn’t worry about his own fate. Even though he possessed a sense of mortality, unlike the warriors, he was more concerned about completing the mission his queen had assigned him before he died. Failing in death was the worst ending imaginable. When Team G was attacked, they finally got a glimpse of their enemy.
