by Baen Books
“What difference does it make?” Femi said.
“What difference does it make?” Lazarus repeated. “What difference does it make?” Under intense strain, grunting, he sat up so he could look at Femi. “This is what you wanted, remember? You told me to find my balls, well guess, what? I fucking found them! Keep firing at that fucking ship! Empty the railgun magazine!”
Trey, the pilot, called down to the command deck once again. “Boss, what the hell is going on down there? I’m locked out of the controls.”
“I’ve got control of the ship,” Lazarus said distantly. “Sit tight.” He tapped his console again, sealing the command deck and cutting communications with his bewildered pilot.
“One of the missiles is destroyed!” Femi said. “Uh, yeah, I got another one! We might … ”
She was cut off as the ship shuddered, violently, emitting a terrible groan like some kind of massive metallic monster. The lights on the command deck turned red, and klaxons screamed. Lazarus’ screens lit up red with damage reports.
“We’ve been hit!” Femi said. “Lazarus, stop this! We can just surrender!”
Lazarus’ eyes darted back and forth across his screens. Sweat rapidly rolled down his face under the acceleration. A grazing hit, but devastating nonetheless. He’d lost one of his lasers, the railgun’s targeting was screwed, the sensors were damaged, and he had a hull breach. His small crew was calling the command deck, asking what was going on. Fire suppression systems were activated, which was good, because his crew couldn’t fight fires under high acceleration.
“Lazarus, please!” Femi begged. “I’ll do whatever you want! Just stop this!” He didn’t answer. He watched last missile closing in, almost in a trance. He rapidly entered a command into the console, telling the ship to flip over and point the exhaust at the last one. It would burn up before it got to him, if the ship could turn fast enough. The maneuvering thrusters were damaged and they fired intermittently.
Somewhere off in the distance, Lazarus heard a heavy thump, like someone falling from a ladder. He ignored it, focused on his screens. The ship lurched under acceleration as it slowly tried to flip over, to point its powerful exhaust plume at the incoming missile. He heard another thump, as if someone fell down, but ignored that, too.
It would be close, so close, as the missile bore down on him, but … yes! The Sundevil made its 180-degree flip, and the final incoming missile was vaporized in the exhaust plume. “Ha!” Lazarus shouted, triumphantly, shaking his fists in the air over his acceleration chair. “Is that all you—HURK!”
Pain, crushing, burning pain shot through Lazarus’ body. He looked down from his screens. A pale hand was wrapped around the grip of a knife, which was buried in his stomach to the hilt. He looked up to see Femi, who had somehow managed to climb up onto his command chair, pulling herself up despite the intense acceleration. Her eyes were wide, her face blank. In a jerking motion, she pulled the blade out of him, and plunged it back down again. More pain, more heavy, weighty, burning pain as the knife slid deep into his gut again.
“I’m sorry!” Femi said rapidly. “I’m sorry.” She let go of the knife, reached to Lazarus’ console and tapped it a few times. The engines cut, the acceleration ceased, and Femi drifted away as the Sundevil was suddenly in freefall. Globules of blood floated away from Lazarus’ wounds, tiny red orbs reflecting the lights of the command deck.
“I’m sorry!”
# # # # #
Privateer Ship Andromeda
“Kapitänin,” Wolfram von Spandau said, “the enemy ship has cut its engines. I believe it is crippled.”
“Understood,” Catherine said coolly, reclined in her acceleration seat. “Mr. Abernathy, cut the engine. Nuchy, hail them.” Both junior officers acknowledged at once. The engines ceased firing, and the Andromeda was once again a microgravity environment. Droplets of sweat floated away from Catherine’s face, but she ignored them as she waited for the enemy ship to respond to her call. Tran, still strapped into the folding jump seat, had blacked out.
As Catherine brought her seat to the upright position, waiting for the Sundevil to respond to her hail, a notification popped up on her screen. It was Ember. She tapped the icon and answered the call.
“Hello, Ember,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“I am,” the machine said. “Thank you for asking. Is the battle over?”
“Yes, I believe it is,” Catherine said.
“What will we do now?”
“Once this is over, we will be back on our way. Are you sure you’re not damaged?”
“I am quite sure, Captain. I have run a full systems diagnostic. I am afraid Bjorn has lost consciousness, though, likely due to a combination of stress and acceleration.”
Catherine looked over at Tran. His arms were floating at shoulder level, but his body was still limp. “Yes, well, he’s not the only one.” A light flashed on her screen. “Ember, standby, they’re responding to my hail. Sundevil, this is the Andromeda. What are your intentions now? Please believe me when I say we have more missiles.”
The person who appeared on her screen wasn’t the smug, shifty-looking man with the facial hair. In his place was a stocky woman, deathly pale, with what looked like blood on her face. “This is, uh, Femi, the first mate of the Sundevil. We surrender, we surrender! Please stop shooting at us!”
“You bloody well should have thought of that before you opened fire on us,” Catherine said coldly. “You have committed an act of piracy. I could blow you out of space and I’d be within my legal rights to do so.”
“No! Please!” the woman said. “We surrender!”
Catherine checked her boards. Everything was green. The Andromeda had sustained minor hull damage in the exchange with the Kholat, mostly laser scarring in the honeycomb energy absorber layer. More worrisome was the damage to one of her radiators, which would hinder her ability to function without overheating. Only a couple of minor injuries had been reported, thank God.
“Very well,” Catherine said. “I accept your surrender and will be on my way.”
The woman named Femi’s eyes went wide. “What? No! You can’t leave us out here! We’ve taken heavy damage! Life support is failing. We’ll die!”
“I am not obligated to render aid to a pirate who got unlucky,” Catherine said. “You did this to yourself. I will notify the Concordiat fleet at the earliest opportunity. They should be along to collect you eventually.”
“No, please!” Femi pleaded. “You can’t! It’ll be weeks, or longer! We won’t make it. Captain, please, I’m begging you, you—”
Femi was cut off as Catherine terminated the connection. Enough of that, she thought to herself. She then noticed a blinking icon and remembered that she had been talking to Ember.
“Hello again, Captain,” Ember said.
“I’m very busy, Ember,” Catherine said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m managing damage control.”
“Captain, do you intend to leave the crew of the Sundevil out there? They will likely die.”
“Their engines are still functional, I think,” Catherine said, dismissively. “They can make a stable orbit and wait for a Fleet cruiser. They are not my concern.”
“But they will likely die,” Ember repeated. “They will likely die of asphyxiation or cold when their life support fails.”
Catherine exhaled heavily. “I’m aware, Ember. What would you have me do? My mission is to get you to safety. I intend to do just that. That means getting you out of this system before any more hostiles show up. It also means getting us away from them. They’re damaged, but their weapons could still be functional. You need to understand.”
“I do understand,” Ember said, her voice modulating musically. “Given my understanding of your priorities, your logic is sound.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You said you believe in things that are not logically sound. You said you believe in the soul. You said that you believe human lives have
value.”
“That is true, Ember, but these are pirates. They attacked us. They tried to kill my crew and take you.”
“I am aware, Captain,” Ember said. “Do those actions negate the value of human life?”
“Well, no, but you have to examine the circumstances.”
“I have. I have examined the circumstances three thousand, two-hundred and forty-eight times. I have come to the conclusion that the value of a human is decreased based on that person’s actions. Is this not the correct conclusion?”
“No, Ember, it’s not. I really don’t have time for a philosophical discussion right now.” She ended the connection to Ember and focused on her screens again. The Sundevil was hailing the Andromeda again, pleading for assistance. From the scans, it looks like she was in bad shape. Hurtling uncontrolled through space, she was trailing atmosphere and propellant. It was doubtful that they’d survive to be picked up by a Fleet patrol.
“Damn it to bloody hell,” Catherine cursed, exhaling heavily.
“Captain?” Nattaya Tantirangsi asked. “Uh, what are your orders, ma’am?”
“Colin,” Catherine said, addressing her pilot, “plot a course to intercept the Sundevil. Nuchy, I want you to hail them again, tell them to prepare to abandon ship. I need a positive count of how many survivors there are. Wolfram, I need you to contact Mr. Broadbent and have him put together a security detail. Tell him we’ll be taking on prisoners. We need to make arrangements to transport them until we can hand them over to the Fleet.”
“Kapitänin, the only place we can contain the prisoners is the cargo deck.”
“Good,” Catherine said, a wry little smile appearing on her face. “They can sit down there and annoy Ember, since she wanted to save them so badly.”
Wolfram didn’t crack a smile, but Catherine could detect the slightest bit of humor in his voice. “I believe this will also annoy Kimball.”
“Yes, well, he’ll get over it. Send an additional transmission to the Sundevil. Tell them that this offer of mercy is contingent on them being on their best behavior. So help me God, moralizing AI or no, if they try anything while on my ship I’ll eject every last bloody one of them into space. Make that quite clear, Wolfram.”
“Yes, Kapitänin,” the exec said.
Catherine looked over at the OSI agent, still unconscious in his seat. “And for God’s sake, will somebody please wake up Tran?”
# # # # #
When Lazarus Goodchild next opened his eyes, he was blinded by intense light. He knew he was lying on his back, and that he was in quite a bit of pain, but that was it. He closed his eyes again, then blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.
“Where … what’s going on?” he croaked. His mouth and throat were bone dry and he could barely talk. His vision slowly started to clear up.
Femi was there, on her knees, at his side. He was lying on the floor, apparently. “Laz!” she said, like she was all happy to see him or something. “You’re awake!”
“Get away from me, you bitch!” Lazarus snarled, pushing her away. “You stabbed me!”
“You need to stay calm, Laz,” Femi said. “You’re injured.”
Lazarus looked down at his stomach. He was wearing some kind of disposable hospital garment, and a large bandage was stuck to his stomach. He rubbed his eyes and sat up some more. “I’m hurt because you fucking stabbed me!” He looked around, then, realizing he didn’t know where he was. This sure as hell wasn’t the Sundevil’s medical bay. He was lying on a medical gurney, which was lowered and fastened to the deck. He and Femi, along with a few other members of his crew, were in a big cage. “Where the hell are we?”
Femi shook her head. “We’re on the Andromeda, Laz,” she said sadly. “I surrendered.”
“What? Where’s my ship? Who the hell gave you the right to surrender!”
“The Sundevil is gone,” Femi said. “Life support was destroyed. It was either this or we were all going to die out there.”
“The hell you say, woman!” Lazarus shouted, shoving Femi away. His guts burned with pain under the strain, but he ignored it. “This is all your fault!”
“Shut the hell up, both of you!” The command came from a serious-looking spacer in a sage green flight suit. He stepped up to the edge of the cage, laser carbine in his hands. “Pipe down before I make you pipe down, you scratching pirates!”
Lazarus grinned at the crewman. He was young, and didn’t look especially confident with that weapon. “Why don’t you come in here then, boy, and give it your best shot?”
The crewman didn’t respond. He snapped to attention as someone else announced “Captain on deck!” Lazarus turned to see the Andromeda’s skipper, Blackwood she said her name was, striding toward the cage. She was flanked by a burly, dark-skinned man with a cybernetic eye implant and a pistol on his hip, and a skinny, younger guy in groundhog attire.
Captain Blackwood walked up to the outside of the cage and peered in, her hands folded behind her back. The cage was made of a flexible mesh that seemed to be very strong. Lazarus pressed his hand into it as he stood up. It gave, but only a little. There would be no getting through it without power tools.
“Captain,” Lazarus said, breathing hard from the exertion of standing up. His guts hurt, but he tried to ignore it.
“I saw that you were finally coming around,” she said. “I wanted to inform you that your first mate surrendered your ship on your behalf, and I agreed to render assistance. You are my prisoner for the time being.”
Lazarus shot Femi an evil glare, then turned back to Captain Blackwood. “So I was told. Thank you for accepting our surrender, then. Is the rest of my crew dead?” There were only six people in the mesh cage, including himself and Femi. The Sundevil had a complement of ten.
“I’m afraid so,” the Andromeda’s skipper said. “Your ship sustained significant damage, and had a hull breach. Also, one of your crewmen attempted to attack the rescue party. He was shot and killed.”
“It was Trey,” Femi said.
Lazarus grinned humorlessly. “He always was an idiot. Anyway, that was a hell of a fight, Captain.”
Captain Blackwood was icy and professional. “You committed an act of piracy,” she said coldly. “I was well within my legal rights to leave you out there to suffer the consequences of your bad decisions.”
Does she expect me to fall to my knees or something? Lazarus thought. No, he wasn’t going to give the huffy bitch the satisfaction. “Well, why didn’t you then?”
Captain Blackwood turned, and pointed to a something behind her. It was a giant cluster of computers, mounted to the deck, with a hulking robot coming out of it. “You owe your lives to Ember back there. You may recognize her. She is the AI you were trying to steal.”
“Holy shit,” Lazarus said, leaning against the mesh. He’d never seen an AI before, not a real one.
“Hello,” Ember said, musically. “I am happy to make your acquaintance.”
Captain Blackwood indicated the skinny young man standing next to her. “This is Special Agent Tran of the Office of Special Intelligence.”
Lazarus’ eyes went wide. OSI? “What … what is this?”
Tran stepped forward, a tablet in his hands. “Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Goodchild. We were able to recover quite a bit of information from your ship’s computers. Some of it is encrypted and I need your personal password.”
“You can fuck off then, kid,” Lazarus said. “What are you going to do, arrest me?”
Tran shook his head. “We’re going to turn you over to the next Fleet patrol we come across. We’re already in Concordiat space, so your time is running out. You can either cooperate with me, and tell your side of the story, or I can hand you over, give them the Andromeda’s logs, and you’ll be tried, convicted, and executed for piracy before that ship even gets back to port. I don’t care about you or that yellow piece of garbage you called a ship. I want to know everything about your employer, who hired you, and where they ca
me from.”
Lazarus looked around the room, pressed against the mesh of the cage. It had to be the Andromeda’s cargo deck, he thought. His ship was gone and Tran probably wasn’t bluffing. What he did was technically piracy, and the Concordiat Fleet definitely frowned on that sort of thing. He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
“What do you want to know?” he said, resignedly. What was the point in fighting now? Maybe if he played the game he’d get prison time instead of being kicked out of an airlock.
“Start from the beginning,” Tran said, tapping the screen of his tablet. The AI leaned its hulking robotic body forward, as if it was interested in the conversation as well.
“My first mistake,” Lazarus said, pointing at Femi with his thumb, “was hooking up with that crazy skag.” Femi folded her arms across her chest, but didn’t say anything. “My second mistake,” Lazarus continued, “was making her my first mate and actually listening to her.”
Tran, Captain Blackwood, and the AI all listened intently as Lazarus told the rest of his story.
# # # # #
Privateer Ship Andromeda
Hernlund’s Hope Orbital Service Platform
WTA-6890-D System
In orbit high above a golden, ringed gas giant, Hernlund’s Hope was an automated service station that provided reaction mass, stores, and limited repair to ships with the cash to pay for it. The WTA-6890-D system had no life-bearing planets and was otherwise uninhabited, but it was situated along a popular trade route.
In her tiny personal cabin on board the Andromeda, Captain Catherine Blackwood was strapped into her rack, writing in her journal, sipping tea from a bulb. The ship was docked with Hernlund’s Hope and was taking on reaction mass and rations, but that didn’t require the captain’s personal supervision. Wolfram had command of the ship, and most of the crew was off duty.
