1 Day Later. March 13th, 2267. 08:00 Slip Space – Captain’s Ready Room
John was sitting in his chair pleading his case to Admirals Dufresne and Dickinson. He had a hard time reading the men as they both had steeled themselves to reactions. Neither man appeared happy with the situation they were in. John wasn’t responsible for the situation, but it was undoubtedly clear he was the one that lit the match.
“Sirs, now more than ever the Icarus needs to die. We kill her and this bullshit pirate alliance ends,” John said.
“How would you presume to do this,” Admiral Dickinson said, “The Icarus isn’t going to attack you if you have battlecruiser or battleship support.”
“Give me two more cruisers and four frigates. We ought to be able to make do with that,” John said.
Admiral Dufresne was the first to show a bit of emotion, “How are you going to pull that off?”
“There’s a large pirate base in the Altair system. If Naval Intelligence data is to be believed, and frankly I have no reason to suspect otherwise, it’s their primary staging point in this sector. It’s also lightly guarded at the moment because the pirate fleet is elsewhere.”
“So, you mean to toss gasoline onto the fire,” Admiral Dickinson nodded, “That could work. It does carry a fair amount of risk though. What if the pirates attack a colony.”
“Civilian sentiment leans strongly on us but it’s a simple majority at this point,” John said, “If they attack civilians then that sentiment is pegged against them.”
“He’s not wrong. The sentiment against them will grow slowly over time if they stick to attacking military assets. And frankly, we have far more of them than we do ships to guard them,” Admiral Dufresne said, “The problem is the request for ships. We don’t have any ships to give you.”
“There are six ships in the Altair system already,” John said pointedly.
“Which are there defending the military installation located there,” Admiral Dickinson said, “What would you have us do? Shut it down and transfer the crew?”
“Yes. For an inner-core system, it’s a shithole. The pirates built this base years ago but abandoned it. They came back recently, and we’ve tolerated their presence instead of snuffing it out,” John said, “I’m also going to need several prison transports rerouted. I see four empty ones within a day and another six that could be used for the same purpose that is two days out.”
“Can you work with Lieutenant Cohen again? You came down hard on him before,” Admiral Dufresne.
“It is unexpected, but I need his help more than I dislike him as a poor captain. It seems my critique of his actions has at the very least improved his ability to captain his ship though.”
“You have a go,” Admiral Dickinson said, “If this doesn’t work out in your favor this could end very poorly for us all.”
“Then I’ll have to ensure that it doesn’t, sirs,” John saluted then before ending the communication.
He had the green light and acquired more ships. Would it be enough? Time would tell. Even with their reinforcements, there was no guarantee that it’d work. But John knew his abrasive personality would get under his enemy’s skin. At a bare minimum, this action would draw out some of the pirates.
March 15th, 2267. 01:00 Altair System – In Orbit around the moon of the second planet
The pirates had not expected a fleet of Confederate ships to attack their base. In the past several months the Altair system served as a fuel stop for passing ships. Warships, of which dozens upon dozens came through the system, were there briefly and then left. The pirates were confident their reactivated base would be safe.
How wrong they were. Then again, how could the pirates predict the Confederacy to go on the attack so quickly? Their typical response was to pull back and guard, then push out. There was always time following an attack to breathe and generate momentum. This time though, that was not the case, this was not John’s way of responding to an attack.
Their base had been brutalized by orbital bombardment. All defensive weaponry, down to the last missile battery, had been utterly destroyed. There was nothing but wishful thinking preventing an assault on the base from happening. The pirate’s morale was low, but they were already prepared for an assault and had dug themselves in.
They were going to make the Confederates pay for each foot of the base they took. Heavy weapon platforms had been erected in the base’s hangars. They knew about the super-heavy power armor and were prepared for it. Or so they thought.
Leading the charge was a brash lieutenant with a somewhat bloodthirsty mood toward pirates. Even more scary, for the pirates that is, is that he was leading the charge on the base. John’s armor had been repainted pitch black. One knee pad was checkerboarded with white and red squares. His helmet was painted bronze, and its face shield had that distinctive white skull he always bore.
The Confederate attack on the enemy base didn’t go according to how the pirates presumed it would occur. Sure, they stormed the docking bays, but they did so after a team of Confederate scouts gained access to the base from a secret entrance on the surface of the moon. Those very same scouts’ mission was to disable the docking bays’ atmospheric shields. An inelegant manner of attack, but none of the pirates were wearing void suits.
Why fight a dug-in enemy when you can simply space the lot of them? Facing heavy weapons deep inside the base was unlikely. In the docking bays though? There was plenty of space to fire them without worrying about the structural integrity of the base. John’s plan was as cunning as it was ruthless.
The transport ships came in quickly and disgorged their armored cargo. Seven hundred and fifty power-armored foes began to fan out into the base. Fifty stayed behind to dismantle, or destroy, the heavy weapons and ensure the pirates don’t do anything to their rides home.
John led the charge down one corridor, “With me, we’re going to rush their central command.”
A squadron of marines, all wearing the older and diminutive suits of power armor, fell in behind John. They charged down the corridor. Unlike John, they did clear the intersections just in case. Some small arms fire came from in front of John, but the moment the pirates saw the hulking mass run towards them they bugged out quickly.
John arrived at the door to the central command of the station. It didn’t open when he pressed the console button in the frame. It also didn’t open when he smashed the button with a closed fist. That gave time for the Marines that were with him to catch up to him.
With his fingers extended John’s right hand shot forward at the point the two doors met in the middle. Both doors bent slightly inward because of the force imparted onto them. John followed that up with his left arm and forced the doors open.
No matter the number of protestations the door’s locking mechanisms gave, the Broadsword’s power was overwhelming them. The locks then succumbed to the imparted force, and the broken doors were wedged into the door frame.
John stepped inside and drew his battle rifle deftly, “Hands up, compliance or death, your choice.”
The guards on either side of the door jumped backward in shock. They immediately dropped their guns and held their hands up. Virtually everyone in the room did that save for the two men sitting at the central console.
“Last chance assholes, hands up,” one of the Marines barked.
“This is a…” the presumed leader said from his seat.
John wasted no time and fired a single round from his rifle. It was a through and through, though thankfully there wasn’t anyone else behind the man taken out as collateral damage. The man that was standing to the side of his boss looked at John, then at the console, and back at John.
“Flinch and you're dead,” John growled.
“Everyone back the fuck away from your stations,” another Marine said as he walked along the outer edge of the room to John’s left.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
The second in command tensed up. John reacted almost instantaneously to the man’s action. Whether he was or wasn’t going to do something didn’t matter. In that moment the presumption was he was going to do something bad. John fired off another round. He fell backward, gasping on the ground for a few moments before his life gave out.
John walked over to the console. The self-destruction screen had been pulled up but had not yet been activated. He hovered his hand near an input port. Eve then directed the suit to connect its external cable from John’s wrist to the port.
“Eve, lock out the pirates from their systems and share with our friendlies the locations of all hostiles,” John said calmly.
“Understood,” Eve said as she was already well underway in taking control of the station.
“This Falchion Leader to all teams, the central command is ours. Tactical readouts are to be shared momentarily. Continue with mop-up operations.”
“Sir, the room is secured. All weapons have been taken from the prisoners,” the sergeant of the squad of marines said.
“Excellent,” John said as he carefully removed his helmet, “Now then, who’s going to spill the beans on what y’all are planning and doing?”
“Why should we talk to you?” one of the guards answered.
“Your choice is talking to me instead of Naval Intelligence. I’m a whole lot friendlier to deal with.”
“I doubt that you just merced both our bosses,” another pirate said.
“True, but I ain’t going to make you suffer. I at least have the decency to put you down in one shot.”
“Some comfort that is,” an older-looking man from the rear of the group said, “I’ll take my chances.”
“What can you offer me?” the youngest-looking member of the gaggle of pirates said.
“Don’t you dare tell them anything Tiffany!” huffed another one.
John made a couple of gestures to the Marines. All of the pirates were ushered into a conference room. Two of the Marines watched over them. Tiffany, the traitor pirate, looked confident standing in front of John. Perhaps too confident for John’s taste.
Her corroboration of events wasn’t actually needed. John looked at his wrist and noticed that Eve already pulled highly detailed information on the pirates’ activities. But if there was an opportunity, she really was looking for leniency, John wouldn’t overlook free intel.
“Speak, now,” John said as he loomed large over the young girl.
“This is merely a waystation. We acquire goods and ammunition for pirate vessels. We aren’t…”
“Spare me that bullshit. This isn’t just a waystation. This is home to three different pirate factions,” John hissed, “That’s your first strike. You won’t get another one.”
The young girl took a small step back. Her confidence had left her. In place of that was pure terror. She didn’t know what to do or say anymore. Her eyes darted around the room, in fact the room felt considerably smaller than it had just moments before.
“What do you want to know?” she said as she looked at the floor in shame.
“The truth,” John said before leaning down to get closer to her, “The whole truth.”
“The Alpha and Omega, Pirate Brothers, and the Void Sovereign groups used this as their base. There was an uneasy alliance between the three. None were big enough to take out all their rivals, so an odd partnership formed here.”
John turned and walked near a console, “All of this is known to me.”
“They also made this a port of call of sorts for other pirates. They were charged an arm and a leg, but it brought a steady stream of money and recruits in. When the Confederacy announced their anti-pirate actions, they shut the station down cold and we all left to parts unknown,” the girl continued to stare at the floor, “That was until the hunting appeared to have ceased. We returned and reclaimed our base. At that point, a decision was made to be less boisterous about our base.”
The girl took a deep breath before speaking again, “The Icarus came to visit. She was in rough shape. They called in favors from all three groups and began retrofitting the ship here. My group had to deal with them in the past, and some sizable debts incurred to the Icarus.”
“This is the base that retrofitted the Icarus?”
“It is, yes,” the girl said, “We acquired a retrofitting dock several years ago. We’ve done a fair amount of business using it.”
“Where are the records of this retrofit?” John asked sternly, “I presume you kept detailed records of their upgrade.”
“It should be on our mainframe, or it could be partitioned off into some secret storage. They clearly didn’t want any records of what was being done to the ship kept anywhere.”
John grinned as he turned to face the young girl, “A request your leaders clearly and flagrantly disobeyed.”
She nodded.
“Who knows where that information is?” John said as he looked at his wrist’s holographic outputs.
Eve was listening to the conversation and was already searching for the hidden data. If this story was true and a copy of it was saved it could be an amazing coup of data intelligence. That is if it were true. But the dejected look of the young girl suggested to John that she was telling the truth.
“Jamis. He’s the tall black guy with the grey beard.”
“Corporal, take her to a more secure place away from the rest of her ilk. I’ll decide what to do with her later.”
“You said…”
John raised a finger to shush her, “I promised nothing. You tried to offer me false intelligence. You and I are far from done speaking.”
“Private, bring Jamis from that room, we need to have a conversation.”
The corporal saluted John and walked over to the room. The door on the room’s right side opened. In walked another squad of marines. Their sergeant was leading the way.
“Sergeant Decker, how goes containment?”
“Fighting is contained to a single sector. The pirates there have chosen death over life. We should be completed with the operation within the hour.”
“Excellent. Begin transporting the prisoners to the ships immediately. None of the adults, irrespective of their age, are to be included with the women and children.”
“Sir, even the eighteen-year-olds? There’s a number of them…”
“Include them with the rest of the men. The courts can settle the matter of their punishment or guilt.”
“Understood,” Sergeant Decker saluted John and turned around.
“Jamis, I hear y’all had an interesting guest a while back,” John said to the tall man being held firmly in place by two marines in power armor.
“What do I get out of helping you? And what assurances do I have that you’ll hold your end of the bargain?”
“Clever strategy,” John grinned as he had Eve activate the communication systems, “Hey Mark, how’s life?”
Mark Wilhelm, John’s one-time boss at Naval Intelligence’s Miami Base appeared on screen, “What can I do for you?”
“What criminal history does a Jamis Miles, one-time Alpha Centauri citizen and current pirate affiliated with the Void Sovereign group, have?”
Mark looked down at his console. He then split the communication screen in two. Jamis’ profile appeared on the right side of the screen. A litany of crimes he had committed began to be displayed on the screen. About a third of them he had served his time successfully for but there were some pretty serious charges on the list that had not been adjudicated yet.
“Seems your bargaining position is a bit dubious. There are at least five charges that we can put you away for life,” John said.
“Thirteen actually given his age,” Mark added in his normal monotone way.
“I need a deal and assurances that you will follow through with it,” Jamis hissed back.
“What kind of deal would NI offer?” John asked.
“What are we getting in return?” Mark quipped, “You kind of brought me in mid-conversation as you normally do.”
“Ahh, that’s my bad. Supposedly detailed information on the Icarus’ most recent refit.”
Mark nodded and looked deep in thought. Jamis looked at both men’s emotionless exteriors and didn’t know what to expect. As the silence continued, the more worried and agitated, he grew. He didn’t feel comfortable in his bargaining position. More than that, he trusted none of these men at all. Especially the man in the large suit of armor. There was a callous viciousness underlying his actions that rubbed Jamis the wrong way.
“It’ll depend on…” Mark began to speak but was quickly interrupted.
“No, I get assurances on a deal before I say one goddamned thing.”
“The clock is ticking Jamis. My VI is searching for all known servers and data feeds. If I find it before you do there won’t be a deal,” John said as he turned to face a pair of Marines in the room, “On that note. Corporal, go to this man’s quarters on the station. Flip the place apart, I want every square millimeter scanned and checked for any hidden compartments.”
“Yes sir,” the corporal quickly saluted John.
He and another Marine quickly left the room. John turned to look at Jamis. He loomed large over the man.
“Tick-tock, Jamis.”
“I won’t quite be the antagonistic asshole my former associate is, but ultimately the deal we make with you is going to depend on what you have. What we glean from it is ultimately going to determine the degree of leniency you receive.”
“I want the deal in writing.”
“Which you’ll get, but you are going to have to give me something to work with so I can propose a deal. I won’t be offering any deals, and my superiors certainly won’t sign off on anything, without you telling me what intel you have. Once we receive it and it checks out to what you tell me now, then we can affirm the proposal.”
Jamis shook his head. He wanted more. So much more in fact. But he was not in a position of power. He had some leverage but not much. The concern he had was what could he bargain.
“I want to walk.”
“Not happening,” Mark replied instantly, “That’s not realistic given your checkered past. Were it not for these serious charges I could consider it. But your history warrants a prison sentence.”
“Minimum security, no hard labor. Ideally on the frontier,” Jamis said.
“If you provide us sufficiently detailed information on the Icarus, I’ll remove hard labor from your location. And super-max facilities. We will not offer more than that.”
“Five-year sentence. I want a chance to get out before I’m old and crippled,” Jamis said.
“Minimum fifteen-year sentence, with a parole hearing guaranteed after year five. NI will recommend parole at that time provided the data checks out and you have received appropriate good credit during your stay with us.”
“Three years till the hearing.”
“Five. But I’m going to defer the charging of several of the more egregious ones. If you get out and fall back into your pirate ways we’ll throw the book at you,” Mark stared down the pirate, “No matter how old you may be.”
“Make it five years on parole with a caveat that the remaining charges are expunged permanently, and I’ll agree.”
John smiled. This attack would provoke a response from the pirates. Instead of waiting, like they presumed they’d do, the Navy attacked immediately. Worse, the pirates lost an important staging ground for their attacks. And thousands of prisoners and family members were taken. This would no doubt anger the pirates, but it would also attack the morale of their fleet too.
By the end of the day, everyone would be transferred off the station. A substantial amount of stolen goods was reacquired by the Navy and shipped away to a nearby station. Farther eroding the pirates’ capabilities to wage war.
The last thing John did before they left the system, they detonated several warheads they brought over from the transports within the station. One more station was forever taken from the pirates. If they were lucky, they’d find out exactly what systems the Icarus was upgraded with. With that knowledge, they could develop an attack plan to precisely defeat the Icarus. Now they needed a bit of luck to draw that accursed ship out and engage it in a proper battle.