“Admiral!”
“What is it now?”
“We’re detecting thousands of ships outside the blockade, they’re coming from the asteroid belt.”
“Pirates…” Axgom had not expected the pirates to fight either. He’d expected them to hide. Chaos.
Axgom could not believe his eyes, or sensors, or any of the battlecruiser’s instruments. Thousands of pirate ships had engaged the fleet, and dozens of crafts were leading a charge from within the blockade. There were few weapons systems in existence powerful enough to breach his battlecruisers’ defences, but some of the smaller ships could be at risk.
The fleet attacking from the asteroid field would be mostly composed of pirates. Still, he expected a one-sided fight and so ordered his ships to hold fire and evade when necessary. The pirates’ disadvantage somewhat disappeared when they got close enough and started crashing into ships to board them.
The Council fleet, though vastly more powerful, had no experience. They were suddenly facing thousands of small, nimble crafts; each with their own insane battle tactics. The Council battlecruisers’ shields were still able to easily repel the smaller crafts’ attempts at boarding them. They mostly exploded on contact with the shields. Larger mining vessels and more recent spaceships could, however, break through. But they were easier to target and shoot down.
Reluctantly Axgom authorised his ships to fire. He observed the chaos and marvelled at how quickly everything had gotten out of hand. He needed to end this now. Decisive action.
“Release the drones. Disable their ships, do not destroy them. No more casualties today.”
“Yes sir, right away. Attention! All nearby battlecruisers! Code Locust! Launch the swarms! I repeat, launch the swarms!”
A million drones launched from their nests in the battlecruisers. These football-sized squid-like ships sped around the battlefield taking out engines left, right and centre. Using their tentacles they grabbed onto ships and with needle-like precision concentrated laser beams targeted the ships’ propulsion systems. Soon, scores of dead spacecrafts floated helplessly among the debris of the fallen while their crews probably panicked while awaiting judgement.
The pirates and guilds turned to flee. Their boldness shrunk to nothing. Those ships that did have weapon systems did not have the targeting systems required to keep up with so many bogeys. Fleeing was the only sensible option.
Saved by the Battle
The escape pod was not fun. No one was enjoying it. Rick held Moon’s hand tight. He kept lying to her. Telling her everything would be alright. The Universe was determined to prove him wrong. A detonation sent them hurtling across the battlefield, and she screamed. She squeezed his hand. He gritted his teeth through the pain. Moon was strong.
They’d been floating around in their can for what felt like an eternity. Rick was unsure if this thoroughly unpleasant experience was worse than death. He'd called for it several times. He wasn't the only one. Shockwaves sent them flying and spinning in this and that direction. Instruments were beeping and flashing red. They’d lost propulsion, and life support systems would follow if their shields didn’t hold. The two portholes only showed carnage. This is not good. To top it all off, Rick was having an existential crisis.
“Do you think we destroyed that ship?”
“I don’t know man. Leave it be.” Brock dismissed him with a wave.
“I can tell you, fools,” Mr T graciously offered.
“Are you sure you want to know?” Amy had neural-linked with Rick. She was trying to protect him, but this he needed to know.
“I think I need to know Ames.”
“Fine.” Amy stopped the link. “The ship’s core overloaded and it exploded five minutes after we ejected. You shouldn’t have gone on your little mission without us. I could have told you that disabling that battery would lead to a catastrophic failure.”
“What? No! Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
“Shit.” Brock put his hand on Rick’s back. “I’m sorry, this shit happens during war.”
“What? This isn’t a war!”
“It sure looks like one.” Brock tried a wry smile. It was unconvincing.
“You realise we just killed a lot of people right?”
“They were soldiers shooting civilians. You said it yourself we couldn’t let them kill civilians.”
“I know that! But…Fuck… You heard those soldiers question the orders! They weren’t bad people. They just… they just followed Salamak… fuck… We just needed to get him.”
“Think about it, Rick. How would that have played out? Us attacking Salamak on the bridge?” All eyes were on Rick while he played out the scenario.
“We’d all be dead.”
“Good guess.”
“You fools wanna know how many people were onboard?
“Not now T!” Amy snapped at him. She rarely snapped.
Rick felt somewhat better but not much. He was responsible for the deaths of dozens of people now. And trying to rationalise by splitting the casualties with Brock would do nothing to help because he’d killed plenty of mercs on his behalf. His head spun as the body count materialised in his mind.
His dark thoughts were interrupted by another shockwave throwing them violently across the battlefield. If their fortunes didn’t change soon, he’d be adding his loved ones to the growing list of those who’d suffered death by Rick. His only solace was that he'd regret it for mere seconds before dying himself. Though the Universe was dispensing mayhem left, right and centre, it was, luckily for Rick, well inclined towards his plight today.
The battle raged outside of their tin can, and the AIs floated by the portholes describing what they saw to their panicked humanoids. This went on until black clouds began to engulf the ships’ nearest to the battlecruisers. Spaceships scattered in every direction. The pirates back to their asteroids and the guild ships hurried back to Ceres. Probably hoping if they got home quickly, double locked the doors, and hid under the covers they’d be safe.
Most ships flew past them without a second thought. One ship did take an interest in them, and before they knew it, their escape pod was being pulled into a spacecraft. At least the beeping and flashing had stopped.
◆◆◆
Inside the spacecraft things were noisy, a constant flow of scrap was being pulled in and dropped over them. Brock urged everyone to stay calm as they were buried under heaps of debris.
Once the noise stopped Brock unbuckled and tried to stand in the sideways pod, with one of his giant feet near Rick’s head and the other too close to his crotch for comfort. He reached for the hatch and tried to open it.
“It won’t open.”
“I thought you were strong?”
“Something's blocking us on the other side funny man.”
“We’ll take care of it.” Amy floated past Brock.
“Move aside fool.” Mr T followed.
Amy and Mr T led the other AIs to the hatch, and they began cutting a small opening with their laser tool. Once the hole was cut they filed out and started moving crap to make way for the hatch. Rick turned to Brock baffled, yet another thing he was unaware of. He really thought having the brain upgrade would end his sense of always being the last to find everything out.
“So I’ve been wondering. Why am I not a super-genius? I’ve had the brain upgrade. Is it not working? Did you give me a dumbed down version?” Moon laughed, Brock smiled, and Gary told Steve to stop recording.
“That’s not how it works. You can learn, understand and assimilate more information, but it still needs to be done. What the smartest do is retreat into virtual constructs where the passage of time is different. By doing this, some have spent hundreds of years learning. That’s how you become a “super-genius”.” Brock’s air quotes elicited more laughter from Moon.
“Oh…”
“Yep, that’s right, homework!” Moon's contagious laughter had spread to the others.
Unfazed, Rick continued. “Fuck. So I can’t j
ust download the ability to do kung-fu?”
“You could, but it doesn't mean you’d be able to perform any kung-fu. You either need training for your body or an artificial body with the appropriate parts.” Rick's respite from the ongoing teasing came when the AI's rummaging drew the hyenas' attention away from him.
The hatch popped open, and light poured in. The AIs fired up their tractor beams and helped everyone climb out. They were in a Council ship cargo hold. Even Rick was able to recognise the superior craftsmanship. They clambered down and regrouped by the pile of haul.
“So what now? We’re back on a Council ship?” Rick had to agree with Gary’s tone. WTF.
“I’m not so sure.” They all turned towards Amy.
“What are you saying, Amy?”
“The AI on this ship has been disabled. That’s against protocol.”
“OK, so we’re on a craft that was captured by the pirates then?” Brock rolled his neck and shoulders as if to say “I’ll take care of it”.
“Or the guilds fool?” Rick smirked at Brock. Can’t go murdering civilians.
“Mr T is right. That’s also a possible scenario.”
“Which way are we heading?” Rick waited while Amy checked.
“Ceres.”
“OK so probably not pirates then.” Rick looked around for approval. “Let’s go meet our saviours.”
Commander Spickard
The admiral was reviewing the battle statistics when Spickard came onto the flight deck. The fleet was re-establishing the blockade, it had suffered minor casualties, but was still very much the greatest fighting force in Solus. Seven patrol ships had been captured or destroyed and almost worse was the loss of a hundred enemy ships. It was clear to Spickard that in the midst of battle, Axgom had not been able to ascertain whether he was engaged with pirates or miners. The decision to use the drones should have been made faster, more lives would have been saved. Spickard would spare the admiral today. He knew what he’d done wrong.
Spickard examined the holoscreens while he waited for Axgom to finish. Drones pursued pirates into the asteroid field while others monitored the gaps in the blockade. Those that ventured in the asteroid field were falling prey to traps at a higher rate than anticipated. Though the drones were designed to find and disable pirate vessels they were supposed to be accompanied by larger ships. The admiral was calling them back. Wise, but too slow to act. Again.
Most of the Council ships now busied themselves with the monumental task of processing the rebel spaceships. Just over a thousand vessels had been disabled and were being rounded up. The clean-up operation would take weeks. People would want answers. Axgom needed to ensure pirates took the blame to avoid a scandal.
For the first time, Spickard was glad he hadn’t been chosen to command the fleet. He thought about the rogue ships among their ranks. They needed to be brought to justice. Their reckless behaviour had endangered peace in Solus.
Spickard was an imposing figure, usually in full tactical gear that complimented his cyber enhancements. He led the Hunters, a highly trained special forces unit. Their mission was to scout ahead of the fleet and sniff out pirate lairs. Unseen hunters that stalk their prey. Spickard's team was the most highly trained fighting force in the system and a source of great pride for him.
He was one of the last veteran commanders of the great war, and he'd been less than pleased when the Council had passed him over for command of the first fleet and then the second. But they'd made it up by giving him free rein to create the Hunters.
For ten years he'd trained the cream of the crop in cyber-mutant warriors for one purpose and one purpose only. Stop piracy. The admiral came up to him, the bridge had quieted, orders had been given.
“I want to know what happened Spickard.”
“Admiral, sir?”
“Commander I want you to take your team and your long-range patrol ship. Find out what happened. I want to know who piloted those rogue ships. You report to me only.”
“What do I do with the culprits?”
“If they are traitors you bring them back to face judgement. Act as you see fit should the culpable turn out to be pirates or miners.”
Spickard had no further questions. The admiral dismissed him. He turned and headed to the hangar. His team had already been notified via neural link. They would be waiting for him with their fully stocked ship, Artemis, ready to go.
Spickard’s legs switched to autopilot, and he examined the reports on the rogue vessels. Neither craft had attempted to communicate with one another. They hadn't worked together toward a common goal. In fact, any clear goal was hard to infer from the evidence. It would make sense for a spacecraft to head towards Ceres and attempt to escape if it had been hijacked. But why would the other ship fly amongst their ranks? Searching for something? What?
Spickard was scanning through all the patrol ships reports when he entered the hangar. Seven patrol ships had encountered crafts on their way to Ceres, none had reported any issues. Two had picked up survivors. Spickard checked the patrol ships against the rogue crafts’ identification numbers. One of them matched up. Another, interestingly, had rescued The Last Human and his crew from pirates. That ship, however, was shown as destroyed. Spickard was not a fan of the show, but he understood why people liked it. They needed it to feel good about their empty lives.
Spickard had re-joined his team, and they awaited his commands. “We’re looking for rogue patrol ships. The criminals that caused this mess. It's likely some are still hiding in the Ceresian system. We head there. Six of our ships were captured. We find them all. Let’s go!”
The Hunters rallied and began boarding the ship. Spickard followed, and his crew made ready to depart.
The Ranger-S1 was a stealth class long-range patrol ship. It was a bit larger than usual patrol ships, it carried more supplies and had better weapons. Its stealth designation meant it could become invisible to both instruments and eyes, perfect for its observation missions. The system used holographic projectors, reflective panels and cameras to fool observers into thinking they were looking at an asteroid.
Spickard activated the ship’s camouflage as soon as they left the battlecruiser’s hangar. They sped towards Ceres while scanning and monitoring drone reports, which mostly consisted of locations and identifications of ships fleeing the battle; most probably mining vessels returning home with their tails between their legs.
“Sir, we’ve picked up two of our patrol ships. One seems to be following the other.”
“Follow them.”
Good Pirating
Diego agreed with the general fleeing consensus, though he was only running away from the swarm, not the battlefield. The fleet wouldn’t pursue anyone to Ceres, he was sure of that. They would re-establish the blockade first, which would give him time to partake in his third favourite activity, scavenging. His indirect escape route would take him via what seemed like valuable debris. Bits of an engineering section here, some cranes there, a turret, a battery pack, an escape pod, some scrap and all the treasure he could fill his ship with.
With his cargo hold full, Diego sped towards Ceres. The Council forces would be busy processing all the disabled spacecrafts and pursuing the fleeing pirates for days on end. The blockade would close faster though. Un poco de tiempo.
He needed a crew. Handling the ship on his own was annoying. Without an AI to help he’d had to split his mind into three just to manage the flight deck’s main posts, and still he had to run from console to console during the battle. There was also no one in IT or engineering monitoring and maintaining machinery. And all that battle debris needed sorting.
Diego had taken on as much scrap as possible, some he wanted to sell and some he wanted to use to modify his new ship. He didn’t have a lot of time to make his modifications and leave the system. By his estimates the blockade would be closed in a few hours. He was awesome in every sense of the word but this was a little bit much even for him. Yet, he’d already impressed himself
today, maybe he could pull this off as well.
Diego knew of an asteroid on the far side of Ceres that would work in a pinch. It was home to unsavoury types, even by Diego’s standards. But these land pirates ran one of the best chop shops, and he needed to tinker on his ship, shift merchandise and crew up. And this was a decent place to do it discreetly. He'd have a few hours to get ready and cruise away from the incoming order.
Diego set the asteroids coordinates and got up. It was time to inspect his booty. Diego removed memory sticks from the navigation and captain’s console and plugged them back into his head. He left one in the pilot’s station. Diego’s autopilot was a part of himself. He didn’t trust AI’s in general. Not since his house had sold him out to the law all these years ago.
With the ship in safe hands, Diego headed to the cargo hold. He took the upper deck route and arrived by the gangway overlooking the cargo bay. He was pleased with himself. He’d gotten a good haul. He had a new spaceship and competition in his industry had just plummeted.
Diego made his way down, excited to examine his treasure.
The doors to the hold slid closed and the lights went dark. Hijo de las mil putas! Diego attempted to connect to the ship’s controls to turn the lights back on. Nada. He’d been locked out. He took a step into the room and adjusted his vision to the darkness. The doors slid open behind him. He turned just as the lights came back on. Diego shook his head at the door and turned back to his treasure only to find himself face-to-face with Brock Dynamite.
Space Shenanigans Page 8
