The poor girl looked terrible. Her hair was beyond matted and snarled, and despite the swim in the river, she was absolutely filthy. Lucas hadn’t been looking too hard, but he had noticed her thin ribs jutting sharply out of her torso when he put her in the dry clothes. She had been doing worse than simply living on those war torn streets; she had been hiding, probably from anyone and everyone.
She fidgeted nervously before replying, “I… don’t have a name. My sister always said I looked like an Elena though. That’s what she called me when we were alone.”
“Then Elena it is, I’m Lucas Nite. What’s this about a sister?” He asked.
“There were a lot of us together in the Wastes before I got sold. But no matter who came or left, Railyn was always there with me. And then it was my turn.” She paused for a moment, clearly sorting through her memories. “Before I left, she told me that what was coming was going to be hard, but that if I stayed strong and kept my eyes open, that there would be a chance to escape.”
“She said that, huh? Seems like she told you exactly what you needed to hear.” Lucas said. It sounded like one of those things that people just said to one another to keep their spirits alive, but he didn’t want to stomp on the girl’s – Elena’s – he corrected himself, memories of her sister.
“Oh Railyn is almost always right, she’s an Augur,” Elena stated with sincere belief.
Lucas just held his tongue. The further from the core, the looser the Empire’s grip grew. Out towards the fringes or in the Wastes, people liked or sometimes needed to experiment with the human genome, and for the last fifty years or so rumors had been circulating of a new breed of human called Auguries, named for their supposed psychic visions of the future.
“So,” he said, awkwardly avoiding the conversational landmine, “let me show you your cabin.”
He led her to cabin originally meant for the ship’s executive officer. It was decently sized, if spartanly furnished, and had its own private head and shower.
“Like I said earlier, this will be yours while you stay on the ship. Feel free to eat from the galley; there’s not much in the way of variety, but there’s plenty of it at least.”
Turning, he saw that she had yet to enter and hovered nervously at the hatch.
“Is this really for me?” She asked with trepidation. “It’s too much.”
“Sure is, I don’t have much in the way of clothes that would fit you, but I’m sure I can scare up something for now.” He reached into the locker next to the door and pulled out a towel. “Now, I’m guessing you really want to get yourself cleaned up. I’m gonna go send a report and then get started on cooking us some food, so you just take your time.”
Lucas didn’t phrase it as an order, but Elena appeared intelligent enough to realize that he wanted her out of the way for a bit.
She took the proffered towel with gratitude and he gave her a quick, awkward smile before striding out of the cabin and back to the bridge, already mentally compiling his report.
***
Elena luxuriated under the warm rain of the shower. The sense of relief was nearly indescribable and seemed to lift some sort of weight from her soul. Scrubbing her body clean with soap, washing her hair with shampoo, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those simple things in her months on the streets. Even her last master, she thought the word with a snarl, had wanted her to keep herself clean. It was almost as if, by washing away the dirt, she washed away the memories of that time. That wasn’t how it worked of course, but the shower did help her put them out of her mind for now.
After a measure of time that seemed too short, she pulled herself out of the shower. Though she wanted to, she was too hungry to stay, and Lucas had said he would be cooking food. Cooked food, not moldy half-eaten scraps, not even a dry ration bar, but real cooked food. That was one of the other things she had forgotten.
After drying herself off she pulled on the clothes that Lucas had picked up when they borrowed the boat. They hung loosely from her frame, likely from a boy or young man, but at least they were fairly clean.
Looking at herself in the mirror, hollow cheeks, emaciated limbs, and brittle, cracked nails, she reminded herself that she was finally away from New Pittsburgh. Finally away from her former owner, free from living on the war-torn streets, hiding herself away from everyone in the fear that they would somehow force her to go back to him.
This Lucas Nite was a hard man, but he seemed fundamentally good. And even if he didn’t seem likely to mistreat her, she would keep her guard up. She could feel it, feel that somehow meeting him had opened a new chapter in her life. And she was profoundly grateful to him for taking her out of that place.
Turning, she made for the hatch, eager to get some real food in her belly. As she headed towards the galley, she heard Lucas’ voice coming from the cockpit. Curious, she made her way to see who he was talking to.
“…increasing number of open contracts throughout the Belt suggests that control in the middle counties is slipping. And while the Empirial military’s presence remains strong in the marches – for obvious reasons – and helps the border counties remain stable and secure, there’s much going on in the places that they aren’t.”
It seemed that this the tail end of the report he had talked about. Probably tied to the one he had made shortly before they took off from New Pittsburgh.
“While our order may be eminently suited to playing fireman, it would be negligent, no unconscionable, to not pass a warning up the chain. The Order is stretched to its limits, and the lack of response from the Core is deeply concerning. I realize that I don’t have the full picture, but if nothing changes soon, then the Belt will start pulling away. Maybe just a few here and there at first, but something big is coming.”
Elena found it odd that his way of speaking had changed so dramatically. And…
Uh oh, she watched as he fiddled with something on the comset before turning a stern gaze on her. It must have looked like she was trying to eavesdrop on him.
As he got out of his chair and started her way, she realized that if she upset him, things could go badly for her. She needed to keep him happy, or at least, not mad at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t really mean to eavesdrop. I just came to find you after I finished washing up. And, uh, the things you were saying, they were really interesting!” She tried to end on a bright note to mask her unease, but the nervous shifting of her feet probably gave her away.
Lucas continued to frown at her for another beat or two, but soon softened.
“It’s no problem,” he said gruffly, “if I didn’t want you listening in, then I would have been sure to shut the hatch. Come on, let’s go get some food in you.”
Elena followed as he made his way to the galley and began pulling various ingredients from the refrigeration lockers. A slab of raw meat made a wonderful hissing sound as he placed it on the skillet.
“So, why don’t you tell me about yourself Elena?” Lucas tried to make conversation as he prepared the food.
“What do you want to know?”
“How old are you? Have you had much schooling?”
“I… I don’t know how old I am. And the only things they taught me were basic reading and math.” Schooling wasn’t a high priority in the Wastes, and life in the compound had intensified that problem.
Lucas frowned. “Well, that’s not too uncommon,” he said after a few moments of contemplation, “there are medical scans that should be able to check your approximate age and schooling can always be made up.”
Soon the meat was finished, and she watched him place it into a warmer before he began cracking eggs right into the grease it had left behind. “Do you have any idea what you want to do with yourself?” he asked.
What did she want? The galaxy had opened up before her; there were any number of paths that she could choose. She knew that there were probably even more paths that she wasn’t even aware of. But she had no idea where any of the paths led. For a brief moment, her elation at being rescued turned to panic as she realized she had no idea how to move forward with what lay ahead.
But then she remembered Railyn and the others. Caged in all but name, trapped between the dread of being sold and hating their existences. She remembered being the hopelessness, and how Railyn had tried so hard to brighten their days, to shoulder both their burdens, and she knew she couldn’t leave her to suffer.
Elena answered firmly, “I want to be free, and I want to rescue Railyn and the others still left in the Wastes.”
Lucas gave her a firm nod. “Those are good long-term goals,” he said as he plated the bacon and eggs, “But you should start with putting some meat back on your bones.”
***
The Night Errand was three days out from New Pittsburgh, approximately a third of the way through their hyperspace journey to Tau Boötis. In the intervening days Lucas had sacrificed a few of his coveralls and a form-fitting bodysuit designed to be worn underneath combat armor in his efforts to cloth Elena. He had also taken care of several near ritualistic maintenance tasks. Maintaining his equipment had been important in the Marines, and even more so once he started operating alone.
He was currently scanning the last news download he had received and trying to figure out what to do with his cargo. Even though he received a generous stipend from the order, on top of the payments from successful contracts, he tried to stay self-sufficient with his trading. It helped his cover to have legitimate, successful transactions logged through the Merchant Association.
However, he had picked up his cargo further out towards the Wastes and was bringing it in towards the Core. Medical supplies were much scarcer out there than at his destination, so after seeing there were no plagues, skirmishes, or terraforming accidents in the news, he decided to hold off on selling in hopes of finding a better price somewhere else. That was the real advantage of a light freighter, the flexibility they offered; if he was piloting anything larger, not only would he need a crew, but each run would carry more monetary risk.
His thoughts were interrupted by Elena entering the bridge.
“What are you working on?” She asked.
“Just trying to find the best place to sell the cargo.” he replied.
“Can I ask you something?”
He turned to give her his full attention. The sleeves and legs of her borrowed coveralls had been rolled up, but even with a wide web belt holding it tight around her waist, she looked like a child dressed in their old sibling’s clothing. Thankfully, a few days of regular food and showers had done wonders for her; she no longer looked to be on the verge of starvation and clean, tangle-free, wavy chestnut hair hung to her shoulders.
“What is it?” He figured she was probably bored, there weren’t exactly a lot of diversions for a young woman on his ship.
“You’re planning on getting rid of me.” Elena stated with conviction.
She was sharp, he had to give her that. Lucas ran his hands through his hair before replying. “Look Elena, I like you. You’re tough, steady under pressure, and a survivor. But what you see here?” He spread his arms to encompass the ship. “This is my life. And it’s no life for a young woman. So yes, I was planning on asking some friends to find a good orphanage or apprenticeship program for you.”
Hearing those words, she didn’t cry, she didn’t pout, she simply battened down the hatches on her emotions and pressed on.
“I would like to stay with you, on the Night Errand.” she said before holding up a hand to cut off his instinctive rejection. “I’m too old for an orphanage or school. But an apprenticeship would work, an apprenticeship under you.” She finished, meeting his eyes with a challenging stare.
Lucas stared right back, and didn’t find a single bit of hesitation or uncertainty in her eyes. “Elena, you don’t even know what I do or if I can afford to take on an apprentice.”
She held up her hand and began to counting items off of her fingers. “You can bounty hunt, you can gunfight, fly and maintain a ship, and understand trade. I could make my own way once I learned any of those from you.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Those are good points, but you didn’t address the cost to me.”
Elena just snorted. “I saw all those weapons in your armory, you can afford it. And once you give me some training, I’ll be an extra hand to work on the ship or watch your back.”
Lucas crossed his arms across his chest. “You make good arguments. But there’s one final problem. Why should I take you on instead of dropping you off somewhere? I not exactly looking for an apprentice.”
Instead of backing down at his rejection of her well-reasoned thoughts, she doubled down. “Because you’re lonely.” He grew more impressed with her after almost every conversation.
He blinked at that, but she continued before he could try to refute it.
“This,” she spread her arms to encompass the ship, “this is your life. You sit in this little box all alone, nothing ever changes. You follow your contracts or missions wherever they lead you, you do a little trading along the way, but you might as well be a robot. I don’t know why or what you’re hiding from, but it’s time for you to live again. And taking me as an apprentice is a great way to start.” She finished her fiery speech flushed and out of breath.
Lucas leaned back in his seat as he mentally revised his estimate of Elena’s age upward. He still didn’t want to take on an apprentice, but he grudgingly agreed with her. His life had felt… static lately, and he had been quietly entertaining the idea of retiring from the order to live out his years on some quiet backwater.
“Fine, you’ve convinced me,” he said in a tone that came out surlier than he meant it to.
Elena’s reaction softened any grumpiness he might have been feeling though. He watched as pure relief flooded across her face, and her small spark of hope was stoked a little higher.
Further conversation was cut off by a series of strident tones sounding from navigation display. Three short bleeps, then three long ones, followed by a short final three.
Lucas hurriedly spun his chair around to face the navigation console as Elena, picking up on his panic, rushed to stand at his side.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The ship just picked up an SOS beacon. Someone’s in a whole mess of trouble.”
Lucas hunched over the screen on the navigation console, quickly assessing the information from the SOS beacon. Although sailors on ancient Earth had been mostly limited to sending simple signals, modern beacons were well past that, even if they retained the same three short, three long, three short tones for tradition’s sake.
Elena clearly wanted to interrupt as he read, but she had the good sense to let him finish.
“It’s from the MAS Makres Labama, a freighter in the hundred kilotonne range. Beacon is reporting a life support failure and she’s definitely in our reach. Crew complement on something that size would be ten to twenty, so we could easily take them onboard and get them to Tau Boötis.”
She studied the look on his face before replying, “But that’s not all is it?”
Lucas knew Elena had potential; she had far better instincts than he had started with and it wouldn’t take much to sharpen hers at all. He remembered responding his first distress beacon, decades ago, naively trusting what he was seeing. He was lucky that he had had more experienced men and women riding herd on him.
“No, that’s not all. The beacon was launched about half an hour ago, and space is a mighty big place for us to have stumbled onto it so quickly. That’s awfully convenient for whoever’s on that freighter.”
Elena nodded in understanding. “So you think it’s a trap?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard of one like this. Besides, it’s always better to be prepared for a trap and be pleasantly surprised to be wrong,” he said.
“So, if it is a trap, how do we get ready for it?”
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“Well, first we ready the ship, and then we see to ourselves.” He turned to the flight controls and executed the defense grid’s function test before beginning to siphon some of the reactor’s power to the shield generator. That was all there really was to do, the capacitor mine was gone – he would have to replace it – the ship possessed no other weapons systems worthy of the name.
After setting course for the location indicated by the beacon, he stood and waved for Elena to follow him to the armory. Located on the same top deck as the two officer’s cabins and galley, it was the only perpetually locked door on his ship.
After punching in the code to unlock it, he strode inside and began to survey his accumulated tools of the trade. The armory was about the size of a small cabin and had racks full of various ammunitions, useful tidbits, spare parts and cleaning supplies, an armor locker, and a weapon locker.
He picked out a pair of gray Navy shipsuits with blue accents from the locker. Built much like an emergency vacuum suit, but armored, they were designed to be worn by all Navy personal during combat, and were a step above what was usually available or provided to merchantmen. He briefly contemplated his old Marine armor, but if this was an actual distress call, they might think him a pirate coming to prey on them.
“Here, slip this on over your clothes, but leave the hood down for now. It’s a lightly armored shipsuit, decent protection from accidental scrapes, cuts, and shrapnel, plus it’s vacuum rated for ninety minutes. There’s an internal com relay in the hood, but you don’t need to worry about that for now.
He watched as she began to quickly fumble into the suit, gamely trying to stuff her ill-fitting clothes underneath. Then he quickly wormed his way into his own suit, long years of practice showing their hand, before clipping his battered chest plate into place on the outside.
Once they were both suited up, he checked over the seals on Elena’s suit, knowing that she wouldn’t be proficient in using one yet. Just another thing on a laundry list that she needed to learn to get up to speed, but at least she was motivated and seemed eager.
“Okay, your suit’s good. Next up, weapons. What do you know how to use?”
She grimaced in embarrassment. “I don’t really know how to use any guns. I can point a pistol in the right direction though.”
Lucas thought back to the escape attempt and realized he was lucky she hadn’t had to try to use his pistol that night. He resolved to add small arms training at the first opportunity.
He crossed to a small drawer next to the weapons locker and pulled out a baton and knife.
Pressing them into her hands, he said, “This is a shock baton; hit the switch and then hit someone with it until they go down, pretty self-explanatory. The knife is a standard Navy affair, good for cutting, prying, or general use, meant more to be handy than as a combat weapon.”
After showing her how to clip the knife and baton to the attachment points on her suit, he grabbed a pair of pistols. One used old fashioned and ultra-reliable chemical-propelled solid shot, the other was a laser. There were pros and cons to both types of weapons, and armor generally only offered good protection against one or the other, so he preferred to carry both types when he had the option. After adding one of the standard knives, as well as his wand to his belt, he felt prepared. But, at the prompting of a small niggle in the back of his mind, he picked up a breaching charge on his way out.
Elena needed no prompting to return to the bridge, in fact, she led the way and seemed eager to be about it.
After checking their position on the navcomp, he began preparing the ship, and Elena, for what came next.
“Okay, so the Makres Labama dropped out of hyper before launching her beacon. But that’s not indicative of a problem on its own. Oftentimes ships will only report their most critical or threatening problem through the beacon, could be that she had some kind of reactor trouble and dropped out before running into a life support problem.”
Elena nodded in understanding and asked a question. “If they are in n-space and we are in h-space, how can we see their beacon?”
Lucas gave her a grin. “Good question, the short answer is that SOS beacons are two-part systems, one part stays with the ship and the other jumps or drops to the space the ship isn’t in.”
“Anyways, the plan is we drop to n-space close to the beacon, assess the situation, and be prepared to run, give an ass-kicking, or render assistance.”
She smiled in agreement, her green eyes flashing. “What do you need me to do?”
He shrugged. “You don’t really have any training, so I’ll try to explain what I’m doing as it happens, but all you really need to do is pay attention and be prepared to follow instructions. Do you remember where those switches you hit where?”
He nodded encouragingly when she went straight back to them.
“That’s right, those two. If you hear me yell or it’s an ambush, you just need to flip them. It just unshackles the PDA and chaff launchers and lets the computer decide when to fire them. I’ll get you trained on how to use them properly soon,” he almost winced as he realized the list was growing by the minute, “but that’s your main responsiblity for now.”
Lucas starting working the navcomp. He wanted to exit near the beacon, but not right on top of it. The problem was that h-space was some sort of compressed higher dimension of n-space, and if he was a few kilometers from the beacon here, he might actually be only within a light-second or so of the ship when he dropped down. And a light-second was the best part of three hundred thousand kilometers.
That was actually a point against it being some sort of trickery; it would be hard to predict where a responder would drop down.
After specifying the distance he wanted the ship to station keep from the beacon, he checked over all his instruments once more. The defensive suite was in the green, though the PDA had expended approximately fifteen percent of its ammo in the last engagement. There were no transponders, contacts, or even possible contacts on the radar. And the shield capacitor was fully charged; you couldn’t transition with your shields up, it could cause many of the same problems as nearby gravity wells, albeit on a smaller scale.
Looking up from his preparations, he nodded to Elena. “Everything looks good so far, we’re going in.” She met his eyes and though he could see a slight nervousness in them, he could see she was ready. You’ll never be completely ready he remembered one of his first platoon sergeants had said, you go when you’re ready enough. She had been right, and Elena and the Night Errand were ready enough.
This time when the light freighter transitioned there was no bright streak, instead there was a strobe-like flash as excess energy bled away from her in the form of exotic radiation.
They were greeted by the darkness of interstellar space, the nearest stars were light-years away and indistinguishable to the naked eye from other stars. Even though interstellar space could be visually identical to some of the outer regions of star systems, sailors swore up and down that they could tell the difference. Maybe it was just knowing you were so far from anyone and anything that made it feel so desolate and forlorn.
The Makres Labama hung in the distance, and after obsessively scanning his radar and finding nothing, he started his ship towards the hulking shape. Keying on the com, he broadcast to the crippled freighter.
“MAS Makres Labama this is the independent light freighter Night Errand responding to your emergency beacon. Please respond.” Setting the message to repeat with a slight delay, he turned his attention back to piloting.
As they approached the larger freighter, he studied it with both a careful eye and his scanners. The Makres was much larger than his own humble ship. Light freighters customarily had no provisions for carrying external cargo pods, everything was stored in internal holds. This limited their size as a practical matter, because the amount of material required to make the freighter increased cubically as they grew larger.
Medium, heavy, and ultra-heavy freighters, in contrast, made few provisions for carrying internal cargo and instead devoted themselves to external cargo pods. They were more like skeletal frameworks with engines that could carry anywhere from tens to thousands of pods, depending on their weight classification.
As he eyed the Makres he could see that she was definitely a medium-class freighter. She had a pair of bulbous internal cargo bays on her centerline that likely rivaled those on his ship, but was covered in slots and trusses for hauling fifty external pods, maybe a third of which were filled.
He spotted some damage near her stern, where the reactors, engines, and life support were traditionally located. Some of the hull panels there were visibly scorched and buckled, and he turned to his scanners to get more detailed information.
“Is everything okay?”
The question startled Lucas. He was so used to operating alone that he had momentarily forgotten that Elena was on the bridge with him. He turned to see her, fingers hovering nervously over the switches he had assigned her, trying to put up a front of confidence.
Resolving to get better at including her in his thinking process, he gave her a reassuring smile. “Everything is fine so far.” He gestured to the scanner display to his left. “The scanners show that she still has heat and her reactor is still making power. I can’t see from here if they still have breathable air, but they obviously have some atmosphere otherwise they wouldn’t retain much heat.”
“Then why haven’t they answered?”
“Could be a lot of reasons. They could be asleep or dead, maybe stepped away for a minute to use the head,” he paused as the com chirped, indicating an incoming message, “I expect this’ll answer some of our questions.”
The message was a video file, so he queued it up and motioned for Elena to stand next to him and watch it.
***
As Elena moved to stand next to Lucas, the screen came to life with the image of a disheveled and sweating woman. “Oh thank the Maker!” She exclaimed. “Night Errand this is the Makres Labama, and we are very glad to see you.” Then the message abruptly ended.
Frowning to himself, Lucas studied the image of the woman, and Elena tried to do the same. The woman was young looking, with shorter blonde hair that was cut to frame her face, but Elena didn’t see anything useful.
“Elena, could you to move a couple feet to the side, I want you out of the camera’s field.” Lucas suddenly said.
She obliged and shuffled to the side, making sure to stay on the side with her switches.
“Makres Labama this is Lucas Nite, captain of the Night Errand. What is the status of your emergency? What assistance do you need? Please respond on the video channel of your choice.”
After he sent the video, he turned to her and asked, “Well, what do you think?”
Elena idly pulled at her suit, trying to get it to lie comfortably on top of her oversized clothing underneath, and then it hit her. “Suits! She’s not wearing a suit.”
He gave her a feral grin. “Excellent observation. If they really are having life support problems, she should at least have an emergency suit on, even if it isn’t buttoned up right now.”
“So, is it a trap?”
“It’s another thing weighing the scales against them.”
The com chimed again, and Lucas frowned as he opened another video message.
“Sorry Night Errand but our com relay buffer is shot, it’s all we can do to compress these vids and send them to you; real-time communications just won’t work.” This time Elena caught a glimpse of an exceedingly scruffy man in the background behind the woman, the type of man she knew to instinctively to avoid if she saw them on the streets.
By now, the Night Errand had closed to the point where they could easily see the Makres Labama and they both stared at it, trying to find answers to their questions about the ship’s true nature.
“I didn’t like the look of that man in the background.”
“What about him\?” He asked, clearly testing her.
She bit her lip, trying to find a way to articulate her feelings. “It’s just,” she paused as she sorted the feelings out, “he felt like a wild animal, dangerous.”
Lucas nodded and replayed the video, pausing at the moment when the woman shifted and allowed a view of the man in the background. A face crossed with scars half-hidden underneath an unkempt beard, dead eyes, and a mop of unruly hair to tie it all together. Elena looked past that and noticed what appeared to be the butt of some type of weapon sticking out over his shoulder.
“I agree, and the weapon is a pretty good giveaway too. That looks like the grip from Carnivex auto-shotgun, you can tell from the distinctive recoil buffer here.” He said as he pointed out a strange mechanism.
“Um, is an auto-shotgun bad?” He certainly gave it an implied aura of caution.
He idly scratched at the stubble on his chin while answering. “Well, no, an auto-shotgun isn’t inherently more dangerous than a rifle. But the Carnivex was initially designed for use with mechsuits, and when it didn’t sell well they adapted it to the shoulder-fired role. The problem is, they didn’t bother to downgrade the rate of fire or power, so even with that buffer it’s practically uncontrollable for even someone like a commando. These days they’re more of a collector’s range toy or,” he pointed at the man on the screen, “used by idiots looking for the most intimidating gun they can carry.”
It solidified in her mind that this was a trap. She had been able to put up a front of confidence before, chalking it up to just being careful. Now that it seemed they were about to clash with some sort of pirates, in a ship bigger than theirs no less, and she felt oddly frantic at the thought.
Suddenly Lucas placed a comforting arm on her shoulder, and she started at the touch.
“Everything’s going to be just fine Elena,” he said in a confident tone, “this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this.” After gripping her shoulder reassuringly for a few moments, he added, “I know you’re scrappy, but you probably chose to avoid fights if you could. But this is a fight I can’t avoid, and being my apprentice means being a part of that.”
She felt her heart calming at his words; how, how could he read her so easily? She was usually the one who did the reading, not the other way around.
Elena met his eyes as he patted her shoulder in a parting gesture. “This is going to be easy; we know it’s a trap, so we know what they want and how they’re probably going to go about it.”
Lucas seemed to feel that Elena’s morale was sufficiently bolstered and he turned his attention back to the situation at hand.
“They probably aren’t actually going to give us any concrete information. They just want to sucker us in close so they can do something to try and take us over,” he said as he though out loud.
“How do you think they’ll try?”
“Standard practice would be to get us to dock with them and then swarm our ship with armed boarders. That might be their primary plane, but they’ll almost certainly have a backup if we get close but don’t take the bait.”
She could see what he was doing. By looking at the problem from his enemy’s point of view, he could guess what actions they were likely to take. She studied the image of the stricken freight again, if she were over there, what would she try? “Could they have something in those cargo pods? Maybe weapons or people in suits?” It seemed like a good option to her, cargo pods were supposed to be full of cargo, not danger, and would be easily dismissed by most.
He smiled proudly at her. “That’s a good guess, there’s nothing else on the scanners, and a fair few of those pods have environmental support modules.”
“So now that we know what they probably want, how do we stop them? Do we go for help?” She didn’t know anything about space combat, but she had the impression the Night Errand wasn’t built for fighting, and there were only the two of them aboard.
Lucas shook his head sadly. “If we go for help, they have a chance to slip away and try this again somewhere else. They might learn from their mistakes here and be that much more disagreeable next time.”
She watched as he mulled over the problem in his head. After a minute he let out a short laugh as a predatory smile came over his face.
“Elena, if you were a pirate pretending to be a merchantman, how would you react to a rival pirate falling into your trap?”
***
They had taken enough time thinking over their next move that the pirates – probable pirates Lucas reminded himself – were likely sweating bullets.
After double checking to see that the Makres’ shield was down, he decided not to waste any more time. He tossed Elena a quick smile. “Well let’s get this party started, shall we? Why don’t you go ahead and flip those switches.”
Drawing a pistol and striking a cocky pose, he activated the camera and broadcast on all frequencies. “Attention you sorry sacks of money on the Makres Labama, this is the captain of the Darlin’ Mite, a member of the Brotherhood of Bloody Skulls. This here’s a hijacking, and if you’re very calm and follow every order my crew gives you, you won’t end up sucking vacuum through an extra hole in your skull.”
Once his video had been sent, doubtless inciting chaos on the other ship, he moved to the station Elena had been manning. She had thrown the switches on his word, but he was after something more than simply having the ship defend itself. Keying through the menus, he quickly targeted a single chaff missile and programmed in a sweeping burst from all the guns that could bear on his target.
“Elena, watch this,” he said as he pressed the activation stud. There was a distinctive whoosh as the chaff missile fired from the tube mounted directly above the bridge and streaked towards the other ship. Watching through the wide viewports in the cockpit, Lucas watched several of his forward facing point defense cannons twitch and make small adjustments before firing a short burst at the shieldless medium freighter.
“Should we really be firing at them?”
Lucas just shook his head and replied, “Don’t worry, it’ll make us seem that much more legitimate, and that burst was carefully calculated to miss the ship itself and only damage a few cargo pods.” His words were punctuated by the chaff missile exploding a few hundred meters short of the Makres.
Normally chaff missiles weren’t very dangerous, spewing all sorts of heat, light, and radioactive noise in an effort to confuse and blind enemy sensors or missile seekers. But chaff missiles usually detonated at ranges of tens of kilometers from anything that they could cause harm to. And as he watched Lucas saw some of the long-burning chaff drift onto the ship; quickly melting small divots in the metal of the hull, or burning entirely through the thin walls of the external cargo pods. The damage done to the ship was superficial – it would definitely look uglier – but not serious, even the possible damage to the cargo was light.
Elena was quick on the uptake. “Oh, if there was anything dangerous in the pods it’ll be less of a problem now.”
“Exactly. Oh look, they sure are trying contact us through a video channel now, how odd.”
Lucas motioned Elena to the side again, and plastered an arrogant grin on his face before answering.
The screen came to life, showing not the blonde woman from before, but with the scruffy man they had seen with the shotgun. His eyes were bulging as he practically screamed at them. “Who the hell do you think you are, you dried up piece of shit? Is this your first hijacking, why are you trying to intimidate someone with a pistol through a vidscreen?”
Lucas gave a quiet chuckle before replying, “The man strapped to the underside of a Carnivex is trying to throw stones?” He shook his head and continued, “We both know what’s going to happen next. I have shields and the faster ship; you are completely at my mercy. So let’s fast forward to the part where your crew piles into the life boat and we take your ship and leave. We’ll even leave that beacon of yours alone. It’s good for our reputation if you all come out of this alive.”
“Like hell we’re going to surrender to some jumped up twit who with delusions of grandeur. Brotherhood of Bloody Skulls, eh? I’ve never heard of a less intimidating name for a pirate gang.”
Lucas gave the man an amused smile before saying, “Have it your way then. Target their life support.” And then he abruptly cut the channel and crossed to the gunnery controls and input the parameters himself.
“Elena,” he called out, “I find myself needing some more firepower, could you grab a rifle and a half dozen magazines from the armory while I take care of this?”
“Sure, what’s the code to the door though?”
“It’s 87539319, you got it?”
Lucas couldn’t help but smile as she rattled the code back to him. She would make a great apprentice, if he ever found the time to actually teach her all she needed to know.
The cannons twitched once more and spat out several short bursts of fire. Lucas wasn’t really trying to knock out their life support; that would be counterproductive and make any boarding action or prisoner taking that much harder. Instead, he simply had to make the attempt to let them think he was serious.
Sure enough, right as Elena was stepping back into the bridge with a rifle slung over her shoulder – he noticed she somehow had picked out his favorite– the com panel lit up again with another urgent call.
He answered and immediately seized the conversational reigns. “Oh, it’s you! Calling to surrender already? I was sure we needed to put a few more holes in your ship, you just lost me five lyra on a bet.”
The face on the other side of the screen was practically purple with rage. “All right already, we surrender!”
“Excellent. Please exit your ship in an orderly manner, and mind all pertinent hazard signs.” Lucas made sure to give the man the same feral smile he had seen dozens of other pirates wear.
The rage suddenly fled the man’s face and he spoke in an acid tone. “Oh don’t you worry, we’ll clear out momentarily. Enjoy your prize scum.”
“And don’t forget that your life pod will still be in range of my ship. If there’s any funny business, we’ll be sure to pay you a visit.”
As he closed the channel once more, Elena spoke up. “He is obviously planning on some sort of treachery.”
Lucas smirked, “Of course he is, we just needed to be sure to guide his treachery in a direction of our choosing. There need to be life signs in that pod, so either they eject a few of their gunhands or some of the slaves they like to keep, either way benefits us.”
“And if they are honest merchants in distress?” Elena asked with a wry smile on her lips.
“Then we sincerely apologize and tell them that next time they shouldn’t act so suspicious.” He said, matching her wry smile.
A flare of light drew their attention to the forward viewport and they both turned to watch the lifepod’s engines pulsing as it hauled the lifepod from its resting place. After checking the scanners to ensure that the pod did indeed have approximately a dozen life signs aboard, Lucas began maneuvering the so-called Darlin’ Mite into docking position.
“Fighting in a ship is always a risky business, and if you don’t know how to use a gun you’re going to be at a disadvantage. Knowing that, do you want to stay here or come over with me?” Both options were risky. If she stayed, it was possible the pirates could counter-board the Errand and if she came with, she could be killed in the fighting. In space battles, and especially boarding operations, there was rarely room for innocents or civilians.
“I’ll go with you, it’s better to be together. If you die, then I’m screwed. Better to give you what help I can,” she said, her tone solemn. It was a shame a woman as young as her understood those realities.
There was a soft tremble in the deck as the Night Errand docked with the Makres Labama. After tapping in a few contingency orders into the navcomp he took the rifle from Elena and attached the spare magazines to his suit. With Elena following on his heels, he strode out of the bridge and locked the hatch behind him.