Like all Pogona, she was the most human looking of the aliens we’d run into. The main difference in the species was a significant amount of loose skin beneath the chin, causing them to resemble lizards. This Pogona had thin, platinum blonde hair tightly pulled back. As her chin moved, the colorful jewelry attached to her loose jowls clinked together, distractingly.
“Pirates?”
“Such a lovely word. I do so enjoy the human tongue,” she said. “It is talented at many things and a delicacy, I hear.”
“Ass,” Tabby said over internal comms.
Flashes of light erupted from Fleet Afoot’s midsection as Tabby fired at a small ship closing on us. I leveled our flight as she stitched a line of blaster fire along the ship’s skeg, fouling its propulsion. I pushed Fleet Afoot toward the weakened ship as Semper and Tabby took the opportunity to reduce it to scrap.
A message appeared on my vid-screen in response to our automated distress signal. An Abasi cruiser was four hours out and sailing in our direction. Instinctively, I answered affirmatively to the Abasi ship’s request for a combat data-stream.
“How brave you look while you focus on your task. I will add you to my harem. You must be a thorough lover,” Belvakuski said, apparently unbothered by our destruction of the smaller ship.
Too late, I realized the smaller ship had been bait as an energy mesh wrapped around the nose of Fleet Afoot.
Sparks flew from my console in my attempt to regain control of the ship.
“Roby, I’m dead stick,” I announced. When he didn’t reply, I pulled at the stick again and got no response. I jumped from my seat just as my vac-suit intoned a warning chime. Having grown up on a space station, I was more than familiar with the tone. It was telling me I’d entered a space next to vacuum – or L0, meaning there were zero additional bulkheads before vacuum - and my helmet was not in place. Technically, all spaceships were L0 space, but armor and powered systems satiated the warnings. If the alarm was going off, the ship was good and truly dead in space.
Chapter 4
Ghost Ship
“What the frak?” Tabby sailed up into the bridge from the gunner’s nest.
“That small ship we took out was a bait-ship. I sailed right into one of those energy nets,” I said with a growl.
“Get to the hold,” Tabby said. “They’re going to board us.”
“What will we do?” Semper asked, following closely on Tabby’s heals.
“They’ll take our cargo,” I said. “Nothing we can do about it. Our job is to stay alive.”
“How?”
“Come.” I jetted down the passageway to the lock separating Deck-1 from the hold. I spun the circular handle and manually opened the hatch, slid through and repeated the process on the second hatch. “Semper, get Roby and bring him to the hold.”
“What are you thinking?” Tabby asked.
“Abasi cruiser is four hours out,” I said. “We just need to survive. Open up your Popeye.”
Popeye was slang for a mechanized infantry suit. Almost on a whim, we’d brought our suit along for ease in offloading our cargo on Kapik. The company we were delivering to manufactured stevedore equipment and, ironically, required shippers to do their own unloading.
“What’s the play, Liam?” Roby asked as he found us in the hold, pulling open the shipping containers that held the Popeyes. “Are you seriously going to use those?”
“We’re not leaving without a fight,” I said. “Vent atmo from the hold.”
I jumped up into the box, pushed my legs into the mechanized armor legs and waited for the foam to expand, sealing me tightly in. I laid back into the rest of the suit and stretched my fingers into the gloves. Once my hands were secure, the armor shell closed around my chest and equalized pressure, just as it had with my legs. The thing about wearing the mechanized armor was that while you ended up being almost seventy percent larger in every dimension, it felt like you were just wearing a normal vac-suit. Tactile sensors provided feedback, tricking your mind into accepting a new normal.
For Tabby and me, taking our spinach (an idiom I still didn’t understand, but simply meant donning the suit) had become second nature. Since the energy net had broken the ship’s gravity generator, I brought myself around with only a few micro gestures to control the suit’s arc-jets.
“What should we do?” Roby asked, standing next to Semper. I had to give them both credit; we were in a pickle and neither of them were panicking.
“Right before we hit that energy net, we were nearly zero delta-v with the ship we destroyed. Tabby and I are going to make some noise when the Pogona send their boarding party. When that happens, you take the forward bilge hatch and make for that ship. Don’t use your arc-jets until you’re at least two kilometers away from Fleet Afoot.
For a moment, we all watched as Roby worked through some sort of calculation on his suit’s HUD.
“That could work. What about you guys?”
“This only works if those pirates get what they came for,” I said. “Otherwise, they’ll just blow the ship.”
Semper and Roby disappeared up the ladder and into the tween deck that would take them to the bilge hatch.
For the second time in my life, I opened the cargo hold of my ship and pushed our precious cargo into space. I couldn’t imagine just how far back I was setting Nick’s venture, not to mention the town of York. So much had relied on us getting these parts delivered. I had a difficult time believing the pirate’s presence was merely a coincidence. Someone was getting in the way of technological advancement and I was afraid I knew just who it was.
Chapter 5
Gila Monster
I pushed a crate of parts away from the main bulk.
“Incoming comm request,” the AI announced, not unexpectedly. I unstrapped the grenade launcher tube from my thigh, popped it open and affixed it beneath the barrel of my weapon. The Popeyes could manufacture a variety of ammunition and while not completely necessary, I found it easier to aim the RPG with the optional tube. I fired and the crate exploded brilliantly.
“Accept comm. Hello Belvakuski,” I said, as I pushed another crate away from pile and into the deep dark.
“What are you doing? You can’t hope to defeat us in those silly suits.” She was right. Sangilak was fifty percent bigger than Intrepid and there was nothing a mechanized infantry suit could do if it got down to fisticuffs.
Once the crate reached twenty meters from our position, I fired a second round and blew it up. A little piece of me enjoyed the destruction, even though I knew I was destroying something valuable to my future.
“Did you really waste all that time setting up a trap for us, just to return empty handed?” I asked, tossing a third crate.
“You understand that once you’re out of crates, there is no reason to keep you alive?” Belvakuski answered, her jewelry annoyingly clinking over the comms.
I fired at the third crate and blew it up.
“I’ve been down this road before, my dear,” I said, pushing another crate away. I was gambling that she actually wanted what was in the crates. If she was just here to stop their delivery, she could blow the two of us up with the cargo and I was making a bad play. Although the fact that she hadn’t blown up the ship as soon as she netted it gave me a certain amount of comfort. “You plan to kill us either way. I might as well buy us some time.”
“Two hours, nineteen minutes,” she replied, with my AI translating. “We are quite aware of the Abasi cruiser and will be gone well before it arrives.”
I fired another shot and pushed another crate into space. We had almost thirty-two crates. At this rate, I’d run out in fifteen minutes and we’d get to play a new, less fun game.
“Stop it! What do you propose?”
“It’s not hard,” I said. “Leave your smallest ship behind. Twenty minutes before the Abasi arrive, we’ll load the crates into your hold. If we don’t, your people can shoot us.”
“What prevents my ship from opening
fire - killing you - once we have the crates? Even my smallest ship can destroy humans in their toys.”
“That’s the fun part,” I said. “If your crew can take us out, then you win. If we live, we win.”
“You are very calm for the position you find yourself in.”
“Compartmentalization,” I said. “It’s a male thing. Saves on multitasking.”
“You are very strange, Liam Hoffen. I will enjoy having you in my bed if you survive this,” she said. “I accept your bargain.”
Tabby fired at the crate that was floating away.
“What are you doing!? You must not destroy the crates or our deal is off,” she said.
“He’s spoken for, Gila monster,” Tabby retorted.
“Delightful,” Belvakuski said.
Chapter 6
Desperate Times
Three ships slowly pulled away. The remaining ship turned so its single turret lined up on us. In preparation, the pirates opened their hold and three suited figures appeared.
“What’s your plan?” Tabby asked.
“What the heck?” I asked. “I got rid of four out of five. Shouldn’t this one be yours?”
“It’s a good point,” she agreed. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know as well as I did, that the plan was to utilize Fleet Afoot to avoid fire from the Pogona ship for long enough that the Abasi cruiser would show up in time to pull our bacon from the fire.
When a ship has its turret pointed at you, patience is difficult. Tabby and I positioned ourselves on the back side of the pile of crates and were nervously passing the time. Finally, at thirty minutes out, we received an incoming message request.
“You’re early,” I said.
“It will take time to load and you are in no position to negotiate,” a pirate said, not showing his face on the comm.
“Get ready to play catch, then,” I said and pushed a crate toward their ship.
“Secure communications request, Roby Bishop.” Involuntarily, I swiveled my head, looking for the source. A secure comm would need to be line-of-sight to be undetectable. Roby knew this. Therefore, he was in my field of vision somewhere in the inky black of space.
“Accept.” Roby joined the comm that Tabby and I already shared.
“Get them to come to the pile,” Roby said.
“What are you up to?”
“Desperate times, Captain,” he said.
I had to trust him. “Time for hide and seek, Tabbs.”
“Three. Two. One,” Tabby counted us down. When she hit one, we both peeled away from the pile. I kicked my foot on one of the middle crates as I scooted away, scattering the remaining boxes. If the ship’s gunner was getting an itchy trigger finger, I wanted a better screen.
Blaster fire pelted Fleet Afoot's hull next to me as I sailed behind one of the engines. A second round blew the engine shroud off and I found myself tumbling through space. I reached out just in time to grab a piece of the ship’s tail, my suit straining as I rotated and brought myself around to the back side.
“Now, Semper,” Roby said, just as I moved out of communications line-of-sight. I laid into my suit’s arc-jets. Whatever was happening would be resolved in short order and my bet was that Roby and Semper were in big trouble. Another blaster bolt struck Fleet Afoot but missed me by a substantial margin.
Just as Tabby and I were no match against a warship, the suited figures loading the crates were no match for a mechanized infantry suit. As a younger man, I might have figured out some way to disable the pirates as we closed on them. But I’d seen too much carnage and too many good people die to care what happened to pirates who threatened me and mine.
The pirates raced back to their ship. They had no warning when my rounds found them. I winced. I’d never shot someone in the back before. It felt wrong and I wondered where my previous bravado had gone. A voice in my head urged me to stay in the moment.
Suddenly, the ship turned and the engines lit, even though the cargo bay door was still open. With a final burst of energy, I grabbed the retracting ramp and pulled myself forward, but the opening was no longer wide enough to slide through. The ship lurched and I felt myself being tugged forward as it tried to accelerate away from my grasp.
“Not today, bastards.” Tabby pulled the pry bar from the calf of her mech-suit and stabbed it into the skin of the ship. It was just the idea I needed and I followed suit with my own bar. “Help me,” she said as she worked to lever open the cargo ramp. The powerful hydraulic pistons were attempting to squeeze us out and my suit strained against them as we struggled, machine against suit.
“Hold it, one second,” I said.
Tabby screamed in exertion as I released my grip on the ramp, giving her the entire load. I pulled my weapon up and fired into the cargo bay. My suit was still on RPG mode and debris from the explosion tore past us. I fired a second shot and must have hit something because the ramp suddenly fell, almost dislodging me as it did.
Tabby needed no prompting and neatly rolled into the cargo bay. Not quite as agile, I followed behind her. Not in play mode, Tabby leveled her gun at a door that separated the cargo hold from the crew and fired.
“Roby and Semper might be in there,” I said.
“Shite,” Tabby said as she pulled the ruined hatch off with her suit’s powerful arms.
We were too big to fit through the now open hatch, so I hit my quick eject. I jumped from the suit and raced through the door carrying the pistol I’d brought.
“Stand down, Cap,” Roby said as I raced down the passageway to the sealed bridge entrance.
“What’s your sit-rep, Roby?” I asked.
“Semper is hurt, but okay,” he said. “The captain has surrendered.”
“Let me in.”
“We’re decompressing now.”
I walked in to find two Pogona crumpled on the floor, dead. A third knelt with his hands over his head; Roby pointing a blaster pistol at him. Poor Roby’s hands were shaking.
"Semper." I knelt and checked my youngest crew member's wound. Her vac-suit had healed around the wound and her eyes were glassy with shock. "We were brave," she said.
"You were brave," I agreed. "Tabbs, we're under control, but I need you."
"What happened?" I asked, taking Roby's gun.
"Cargo bay was empty," Roby said. "We cycled through and Semper caught one of the pirates trying to go back to bring in crates. She shredded his wattle with her claws. Did you know Felio vac-suits allow their claws to extend through little ports? I sure didn't."
Roby was understandably excited and adrenaline was making him talk too fast.
"I don't understand then. Why did they keep accelerating after you took control?" I asked.
"Captain had a gun," Roby looked at his feet. "He shot Semper after she killed the gunner. Captain only surrendered after Tabby ripped the door from the airlock."
"Captain. If you'd like to remain breathing, you'll turn over control of the helm to my associate."
Chapter 7
Marque Restored
I couldn’t have been more relieved when the Abasi cruiser, Cold Mountain Stream came into view. Idly, I wondered if the Abasi had ever considered giving their ship's names that were more macho.
“We’re receiving a hail,” Roby said. I’d given him the honor of sailing the ship, Tuuq, back to where Fleet Afoot sat.
“This is Captain Liam Hoffen,” I answered.
“Greetings, Hoffen Captain, and warm salutations." A Felio I recognized showed on the Tuuq's vid-screen.
"Mshindi Tertiary. Are congratulations in order? Is Cold Mountain Stream your first commission?" I asked.
"I have joined my mother and sister in command rank," she replied proudly, brushing a paw along her whiskered face.
"Well deserved! And it makes me doubly glad to see you today," I said. "We ran into a bit of a problem out here with pirates."
"Yes. It is a common problem for merchants now that we are in conflict with Strix," she said.
"
We have taken a prisoner," I said. "Could we transfer him to your custody?"
"Yes. We will take your prisoner. Bumha engineer has informed that Fleet Afoot suffers repairable damage. Mshindi offers aid."
"Let me get this straight," Nick said. He lay against his girlfriend, the thickly muscled Marny Bertrand and rested his feet on the arm of the couch. "The only parts lost to the pirates were the ones you blew up?"
I handed a beer to Tabby and sat on her lap in the chair adjacent to Marny and Nick.
"Hey. We delivered most of your parts," I said. "How pissed is Bakira Corporation that we didn't deliver everything?"
"Apparently, pirate activity is up in the sector. Once I explained what happened, they were fine," Nick said. "We won't make anything on this round. They’ll build prototypes and send them out to the distributors. If all goes well, we'll get orders in half a stan, maybe sooner."
A knock at the front door got our attention. I stood to answer it, but Ada, the fifth managing member of our team, walked in, as was customary for crew while we were on the ground.
"We have a visitor," she said. It was always easy to tell what Ada was thinking; her face tended to reveal every emotion. In this case, her face was bright with excitement.
I followed her out and saw that a shuttle had landed in the field next to where we now kept both Intrepid and Fleet Afoot. From the shuttle, Mshindi Second emerged and walked briskly in our direction with an honor guard in tow.
"Mshindi Second. You honor us with your presence," I said as Tabby, Nick and Marny joined Ada and me.
"My time is minor," she said. I rolled my eyes. For some reason the translator for Mshindi Second gave the weirdest possible words.
Corsair Menace (Privateer Tales Book 12) Page 2
