The Star Pirate's Folly

by James Hanlon

  “I’m ready,” she said as the suit tightened around her, the gravity nodes rooting her in place against the wall in the shuttle’s cargo area.

  Kill him, Mother whispered.

  “I’m ready,” Bee repeated.

  The shuttle speared itself into the opening the Hornets had burned in Deep Fog’s hull, metal shrieking against metal until the craft’s whole front section crumpled inward and it came to a bone-jarring stop. Even with the suit holding her steady, the impact knocked her around. She tasted coppery blood in her mouth—must have bit herself.

  “They’re going to try and turn back,” Myra said. “I mucked with their maneuvering before they shut me out but you should have enough time to get out of there before they get back to the gate with you on board.”

  Spud shoved a beam rifle into Bee’s hands before she could respond, then yanked a much larger gun from the weapons bag for himself. No time for thought. The suit took charge, guiding her hands as she primed the weapon. She’d never fired one at a person, just the hardlight targets from her training sessions with Truly in the nullroom. Still, with the suit’s guidance the movements felt natural, as if she’d done the same thing every day of her life. It just showed her the way things should be done.

  The map on her display shifted to show a blueprint of Deep Fog’s interior. At least a dozen silhouettes appeared in the distance, all but one outlined in yellow. One glowed red. Starhawk.

  “He’s running back to the gate already,” Myra said. “I’m still inside the gate’s systems but I don’t think I can stop them from—”

  Myra’s channel went dead.

  Spud aimed his gun—no, a laser drill, Bee realized, the kind they used for mining—at the shuttle’s wall. Her display showed yellow shadows gathering in the hallway on the other side, approaching cautiously with weapons drawn. Spud made a happy gurgle over the comms as the drill whined with power. A three-inch wide beam sliced one pirate from left hip to right shoulder as Spud made them a hole and the others scrambled for safety. A chunk of melting wall crashed to the floor on top of the armored body and the giant dropped the drill.

  From the weapons bag he pulled two fist-sized spherical drones studded with gravity nodes and laser lenses. He tossed both out the opening and they buzzed to life in midair, darting after the three pirates. Spud shouldered a beam rifle from the bag, picked the drill up again, and ducked through the wall. Bee fell into step behind him without a thought, giving in entirely to the urges of the suit. She felt the way it wanted to move, crouching behind Spud for cover.

  The drones riddled two pirates hidden around the corner with laser fire. In a desperate attack the last of the trio flung himself at them and Spud caught him in the chest with a short blast from the laser drill. He shouldered the armored corpse out of the way when it drifted into him. They moved quickly, hunting the red shadow on the bridge ahead. Six guarding Starhawk, eight or ten more on other levels, closing fast.

  Spud pointed the drill at the thick door and the beam seared through, sending the pirates inside diving for cover. The armored gargantuan carved a new door for them, but before he finished the hole the drill’s beam faded and sputtered out. Its energy spent, Spud tossed it aside and swapped it for the rifle slung across his back. He raised a boot and smashed the chunk of metal into the rest of the door and it bent inward far enough for them to fit through. The hovering drones zipped inside the gap, dodging lasers and firing at the pirates inside. Spud followed without hesitation, Bee shadowing him.

  Her heart stopped when she saw Starhawk across the room in his feather-etched golden armor. If not for her nullsuit’s constant guidance she might have stopped in her tracks. She dove left as a drone took the first hit, spiraling out of control and smashing into the ceiling. Bee felt the suit guide her rifle to fire, felt her finger pull the trigger, and saw a beam of light lance forward and boil through nullsteel plating on an armored chest. Spud finished him with a shot through the visor and the suit of armor mimicked the death throes of the man inside.

  The rest opened fire on both her and Spud, causing the last drone to fly wild as a distraction, unloading its energy to cover Bee and Spud. Two more pirates thrashed around clutching their helmets. Spud popped another with three shots to the gut. No telling how close Deep Fog was to the gate. Maybe they already went through. Maybe even if she and Spud managed to take Starhawk out they’d get killed anyway by the carriers on the other side. Smashed up from far away like Bill did to that asteroid. Boom.

  In that moment it became clear to Bee there wasn’t enough time for all of her old promises to Mother, but there could be enough time to right at least one wrong in the universe. She ignored the suit’s demands and broke from cover. Starhawk pointed his gun right at her, standing tall in his golden suit, Myra’s red outline glowing bright. Bee leaped at him, twisting in the air, feeling the suit’s pressure as it corrected her aim—and then in an instant half the room vanished, replaced with a view of vast empty space. Like the rest of the ship suddenly turned invisible. The floor surged up, knocking her into the ceiling. Everything shook and roared and she blacked out.

  Chin up, Buttercup, Mother said.

  Bee woke with a pounding headache. Around her stretched an endless field of shimmering stars. Finally out in the void, she thought. The great empty dark. Zee. When she craned her neck around she saw the surface of an asteroid, and strewn across it what remained of Starhawk’s warship. The bow of Deep Fog looked like it had been sliced clean off from the rest of the ship, right through the bridge—but the rest of it was nowhere to be seen.

  “What happened?”

  Myra’s clone said, “Deep Fog suffered mid-transit deactivation. Only the bow of the ship made it through the gate. It crashed into the asteroid after entry, causing your brief incapacitation. You and he are the only survivors on this side.”

  Through a cloud of swirling dust near the crash site she saw the glinting of what must have been the gate they came through, still partially hidden beneath the surface.

  “Where are we?”

  Myra’s clone took a moment to reply. “An unnamed asteroid in the Lethe Belt at the edge of the Luxar System, approximately forty-nine astronomical units from Lux.”

  “That’s impossible,” Bee whispered. That was past Ymir, even—almost fifty times the distance between Lux and Surface. No gate she knew of had range like that.

  “Correct,” the clone replied. “We appear to have traveled far beyond currently settled territory.”

  Find him.

  Mother’s words jolted her back to her mission.

  “Where’s Starhawk!” Bee demanded, suddenly wild-eyed behind the suit’s visor. A red glow traced around Starhawk’s armor in the partially intact bow and relief washed over her.

  “Infirmary,” the fake Myra said, outlining the room for Bee.

  “Alive?”

  “Unconscious. Scans suggest severe trauma to the lower body.”

  Kill him slow.

  “Take me to him.”

  A thread of light appeared in front of her, plotting a path to follow into Deep Fog’s bowels. Bee reached out toward the asteroid and pulsed her palm nodes, falling to the surface along the thread’s trajectory. She let the suit take over and glided to the guts of the ship where it had been cut in two. Bee touched down on a mid-level deck near the infirmary.

  Wasn’t quick for me.

  That was more than luck, for both of them to make it through together. She must have been thrown from the ship after it got sliced apart. Myra probably had a hand in it—she was in the gate’s systems when it happened.

  Suffer he has to suffer—

  “Thank you, Myra,” Bee said.

  She realized she’d probably never see Myra or any of the crew again and tried her best to bury the terror bubbling up in her chest as she made her way to the infirmary. She focused on what must be done, locked her eyes on Starhawk’s silhouette.

  ***

  “He still under?” Bee whispered to Myra. />
  “Unconscious, yes.”

  “Are you inside his suit?”

  “I have full control.”

  “Good. Make sure he doesn’t move.”

  The wash of red auxiliary lights tinged the infirmary a bloody red. Deep Fog’s damaged life support system struggled to wheeze breathable air back into the room. From the entrance, Bee could see Starhawk lying on an operating table in his feather-etched golden nullsuit. His legs were mangled, sticking in all wrong directions.

  Bee’s heart pounded. She glided from the entrance to the operating table. Up close she could see how elaborate the designs on his suit were. The helmet’s blue visor looked like it was being swallowed by the hawk’s beak. Intricate feathers covered every inch of the armor. She twisted off the helmet and tossed it aside.

  His great heaving fish-out-of-water gulps of air delighted Bee. His bright blue eyes matched the visor, she saw. It was him. The face she’d been looking for all her life. His eyes bugged out and he let out a guttural whimper when he realized he couldn’t move.

  “We’re a long way out,” Bee said through her suit’s speakers. “It’s just the two of us now. What are the odds that we would both end up here?”

  “Whatever Anson’s paying you, I can double it out here.” He licked his lips. “I know people. I got money. I can make you rich. You wouldn’t believe—”

  “Yes, the great Starhawk,” Bee said. She removed her helmet so he could see her face, struggling to fill her lungs in the thin air as she looked down on her enemy. “The blue-eyed beast. I’ve been looking for you for a long time. But I’m not here for your bounty. I’m just here to finish what you started.”

  “You’re just a girl! Who the hell are you?”

  Not a flicker of recognition—just wild-eyed confusion. And she thought she’d grown to look so much like her mother. But Mother was nothing to him. Just another body he’d stepped over in his useless, destructive life. Bee slipped the helmet back on and the suit filled her lungs with fresh, full-bodied air. “Myra, find me something sharp.”

  A drawer to her right sprouted an outline. Inside she saw a row of surgical instruments lined up side by side. Bee stepped over to it and pulled out a scalpel. Starhawk recoiled from her but his suit held him frozen in place. Bee leaned over him and showed him the scalpel. “You didn’t recognize me.”

  Starhawk shook his head, choking for breath, struggling against the confines of his suit. “No—I don’t know—”

  Bee slashed the blade across his cheek. He howled with pain and writhed against the restraints. Globules of crimson blood coalesced from the wound and stuck oddly to his face in the microgravity.

  “I thought you might not. We only met once. I was six years old,” she said, teasing the dull end of the blade across his eyelids. He struggled to remain still, taking hissing breaths between clenched teeth. “You drugged and raped my mother. Does that narrow it down for you at all?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and said, “You’re a crazy bitch if you think I remember every woman I—”

  Bee flipped the blade and sliced across his right upper eyelid. “You killed her, and I promised her I’d find you and tear you to pieces.” Another cut across the bottom. “Then you killed my friend Hargrove.”

  “You bitch!” he cried. “God damn it, you sick whore!”

  “If he’s really out there, God’s going to sit back and enjoy this after all you’ve done. He’s a vindictive old codger. Why else would he have put me in this room with you?”

  “Stop! Stop it! I know about the treasure, it’s all bullshit—about Dreadstar, I’ll take you there—”

  “I’m right where I want to be.” She lifted the scalpel again.

  “Who are you? If you’re gonna kill me tell me your name,” he begged. “I won’t die without knowing who killed me!”

  “I’m my mother’s daughter.”

  “I am the Starhawk!” His voice went hoarse as he screamed and thrashed against the restraints. “Who the fuck are you!”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am,” she said. “Just know I’ve done some things to get here. Things I’m not proud of. Necessary things. Nasty things. All for this.”

  “Yeah, join the club.” Starhawk spat on her faceplate. “I think I do remember that blonde bitch after all. I’m glad I—”

  Bee’s armored fist lashed out at Starhawk with a sudden backhand, and he grunted with pain. She dropped the scalpel. Animal fury took over as she smashed his face, metal gloves pounding on meat and bone. She roared and raged, years of pent-up anguish pouring fuel on her outburst. A lifetime of dreaming, of waiting for her chance to make him hurt for what he did, and she finally had him.

  With a flick of her wrist and a pull from the gravity node in her glove, Bee snagged the surgical blade and set about her work without another word. She wasn’t sure how long the life support would hold out, but it would be enough to make him suffer until his last ragged breath. And not too long after that, her own air reserves would run out and she’d probably die too.

  Epilogue

  Montez trailed the squad of armored HomeSec guards through the asteroid base’s crowded hallways, furious that Lieutenant Finch had taken the cryo pod from her. Smarmy bastard. She knew he’d take credit for the find, and probably her and Crane’s cut of the pay too. As head of Home Security he could manipulate the logs to back up his claims and invalidate hers, say it was him or one of his subordinates who went out on the run and picked up the pod.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it, and Montez had seen what happened to other salvagers who took issue with Finch’s greed—bruises and broken bones, demotions, even disappearances. His henchmen from HomeSec knew all the little corners of the base where the cameras couldn’t see, and just when they could get away with it.

  Well this time she wasn’t going to take it.

  She knew they’d have to wait before they could bring the cryo pod to Receiving since the next shift didn’t start for a little under half an hour. And in the meantime they’d have to bring it to Temporary Holding—a low security storage area. Finch would probably leave the pod under guard until the next shift. That was her only chance.

  “Crane, respond,” she said into her jawline mic.

  “Eat me,” he replied in her earbud.

  “Finch took our haul.”

  “What!” Crane shouted. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Armor up and meet me in Holding or we kiss our payday goodbye.”

  “Knew I couldn’t trust your scrawny ass by yourself.”

  “Just get there,” Montez said. “We don’t have much time.”

  “What are you thinking?” Crane asked.

  “I don’t know. But we can’t just let him steal it.”

  “So what, we’re just gonna steal it back? From Finch? You crazy?”

  “I’m pissed off. He’s been pulling this for months, ever since he made Lieutenant. You heard about Teller, about Gorski—and after what they did to Reynolds? Somebody’s gotta do something.” Montez surprised herself with the conviction she felt. She’d just seen too much of Finch abusing his power on her friends and coworkers and completely getting away with it.

  “So let’s get Kasim in on this, bring it up with the Commissioner.”

  “You think the Commissioner doesn’t already know? I talked to Teller and Gorski before we left, Crane. They already made an issue of it and the Commissioner obviously hasn’t done shit.” Her voice shook with anger. “Even after Reynolds. Even with all that evidence. Still nothing. We’ll never get ahead around here, Crane. I say we take the pod and sell it in the Core ourselves, cut out the middleman. We’d make enough off that to start something out there if we’re careful.”

  “These are not the kind of people we want to piss off, Montez.”

  “I’ll do it myself if you’re scared.”

  “Fear is natural when dealing with known killers,” Crane pointed out.

  “You coming or not? I just go
t to Holding. We don’t have long.”

  Crane growled with anger. “Yeah, I’m coming. But I ain’t happy.”

  Montez pressed herself against the wall to let people slide past her and watched as all but one of the armored HomeSec troops split off from the cryo pod. They headed toward Receiving. The lone remaining guard pushed the tarp-covered pod down the hall on floaters, shouting people out of the way as he went. Montez wished she’d had time to grab her pistol from Littlefoot, but she would have lost sight of the pod if she had gone back.

  “Crane, you almost here?” she whispered.

  “Just leaving the ship. How many?”

  “Only one, the others left. He went inside. I’m following him.”

  “I’ve got your gun,” Crane said. “Be careful.”

  “No shit.”

  “I mean it, Nita.”

  Montez stopped. “You don’t call me that anymore.”

  “Yeah, well.” Embarrassed, Crane fumbled for a response. “We shouldn’t talk about this now.”

  “Just… get here.”

  She could either wait for Crane to show up or follow the guard inside to see where he took the cryo pod. If she did follow she risked getting into trouble without Crane there to back her up, but if she stayed behind she might lose track of the pod entirely. Torn, Montez watched as the most valuable haul she’d ever brought in disappeared around a corner.

  Dismissing her reservations, Montez pursued the HomeSec guard further. She knew the layout of Temporary Holding, but only from working night-cycle shifts there before she trained as a pilot. Things may have changed since then and she wasn’t sure where exactly the guard had gone. If he saw her he could probably guess what she was after, and without armor or a weapon of her own she couldn’t defend herself at all.