Recap.

Thulani commits to his plans after the Council addresses the city with false tears. He salvages the late Mosa Selo’s old systems to accumulate the tools he needs. Olivia and Nandi make him promise not to act on his evidence, but Thulani won’t raise his family in a city run by murderers.

Thulani sat hunched over the desk in the late Mosa Sello's bedroom. After sorting through the smashed monitors and computers, Thulani sat over a motherboard that had largely survived the damage. Acrid metal vapors filled the air as he soldered a tiny rectangular capacitor from another piece of salvage to replace the damaged element. A work lamp on the desk beamed a powerful white light on his project in the otherwise dark room.

Dineo Sello, Mosa's grandfather, appeared in the bedroom hatchway carrying a dim light. "Well," the aged man croaked. "Find anything useful?"

Thulani sat back and removed his safety glasses. "Actually, yes. The raiders seem to have focused on destroying monitors that don't even retain data. Between it all, I'll probably have two full working computers. I'll have to use my tablet's screen."

Dineo's eyes wrinkled at Thulani. "You're a smart kid, aren't you?"

Thulani chuckled, embarrassed and rubbed his kneck. "I have a head for systems. I specialized in sub piloting during senior school because my parents were pod techs. But I realized my mistake when I started playing around with systems."

"Too late now, eh?" Dineo asked.

"I'm going to test to get my license," Thulani explained, but he stopped. "No, I'm going to expose the council, and if I'm still around after the reformation, then I'll get my license."

Dieno nodded, his tufts of white hair bobbing. "You sound like my granddaughter. Let's hope you get them before they get you."

Thulani sat back. Floyd and the girls' warnings came to mind, but he dismissed them. "It seems the raiders destroyed the video equipment, which will be my biggest setback. I'll have to research how to repair what I can."

Dieno considered something for a moment. "Don't you have a job, son? This is the third day you've locked yourself in this room. You haven't eaten since you got here this morning."

Thulani yawned. "I'm burning sick leave."

"What about your family? Do they know what you're doing?"

Thulani thought back to that morning when he kissed Olivia on his way out the door, dressed in his technician jumpsuit; not a spoken lie, but a deception nonetheless.

"They'll be okay," Thulani muttered, but his stomach churned.

Dieno sighed, leaning against the doorway. "What's your plan, son? Spam e-messages full of evidence? It won't work. Mosa did that her entire life, and no one important enough listened."

Thulani nodded. "You're right." He sighed, frustrated. What would it take for people to listen to him, even once? "I need to stir the pot."

Dieno frowned. "Now, boy, violence will destroy you faster than it will destroy your enemies."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," Thulani corrected. "But what if I can get my voice out there when everyone is listening?" Thulani stood, an idea blooming in his mind. "Shock everyone out of what's expected."

"What are you talking about?" Dieno asked.

Thulani leaped to his feet. "I'm going to hijack The Joberg Oceanic Bulletin's news hour!"

Dieno snorted unamused. "How? Kid, you'll end up in prison, and then what?"

"I don't know," Thulani ran the hypotheticals. "I can sneak in as a maintenance worker and upload a video for all to see."

Dieno laughed. "Put your face on everyone's terminal so they know who to lock up?"

"You’re right. I should hide my identity," Thulani said.

"You're making a million assumptions. How will you make it through security? Do you know how to alter their footage in a way they won't notice? Have you ever been in the studio?"

Each logical question blasted a hole in Thulani's idea.

"Do you have any espionage experience whatsoever?"

Thulani sat back, drumming his thigh with his thumb.

Dieno sighed. "I like you, Thulani, and I think Mosa would have too, but you're dreaming. Don't drop what's real to catch a fantasy."

Thulani balled a fist. "I'll need to workshop my plan, and you make good points. However, I'm going to show the city who the council really is."

Dieno sighed. "Go home, Thulani. It's late."

Thulani cocked a surprised eyebrow and tabbed on the raider's tablet, revealing the clock. 2216

Where had the day gone?

Thulani yawned again. "Thanks for letting me use your place, Mr. Sello."

On the road, citizens moved freely again, without fear. Had they forgotten so easily, or had most of them been secure in a locked hatch during the raid?

Thulani circled around his block so he would be coming home from his usual direction.

It was after 2200; Olivia expected him hours ago. Thulani took the elevator, spun the dial, and entered his hatch to find Olivia in the kitchen, her back to him.

She turned, and her face lit up when she saw him. "Hartlam!" She crossed over to him.

Thulani flinched. “Oh, uh, hey.”

She reached behind his neck and drew him down into a slow, lingering kiss.

Thulani pulled back and eyed her in surprise. "You miss me or something?"

Olivia bit her lip, a carnivorous gleam in her eye, and she nodded. "They're keeping you late at work. You had better tell Thshebo if he doesn't let you go on time, I'll— " Her eyes widened, and she clapped her fingers to her lips. "Thul, I'm so sorry. He's been your manager for so long I didn't mean— "

Thulani slid his hands down her hips, drawing her closer. "No, it's okay. He was a good boss."

Olivia searched her man's face, as if trying to read him, but eventually, she smiled again. "The overtime will be good for us."

Thulani swallowed. Now, she would be expecting a bigger check.

"Nandi's already in bed," Olivia said. "I saved you dinner, but it's probably cold."

Thulani glanced past her at a glass container on the table.

Olivia reached up and tugged one of Thulani's short dreads. "I could heat it up for you, or —" her eyes glinted mischievously. She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear. "We could skip dinner and go to our room for dessert." Her whisper, soft as a hiss, sent a thrilling shock through him.

Thulani grinned and scooped her into his arms. Olivia squealed in surprise, wrapping her ankles behind his back, hands gripped around his neck. He kissed her deeply as he staggered for the door.

********

Recap.

After seizing the control room, Mandla takes isolated groups of Corsair prisoners. Meanwhile, Lekota rallies his own gang as he gradually manually bypasses sealed hatches. With the Jobergians hopelessly outnumbered, both sides race to regain control of the subs.

Mandla faced a sealed hatch with Jabulani and his two new additions, Lesego and Francoise. Mandla Activated the com on the door control panel, projecting his voice to the other side.

"This is Commodore Zwane," Mandla said, still uncomfortable with the rank Stefanus had assigned him. "Drop your weapons, get on your knees, and face the wall with your hands behind your head, fingers interlaced."

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Mandla glanced at the camera on the wall, waiting for a signal, but a voice crackled back through the speaker on his side.

"How do I know you aren't going to flush us?" A voice asked, laced with alarm.

Mandla wished he had not left Stefanus in the control room. Stefanus was much better at negotiating, even if he was lousy with a weapon.

"Your commanders are dead, and we've taken eighty percent of the ship. I have four fire teams ready to smoke you out if necessary." Mandla grimaced. “If you surrender, we won't kill you.”

No reply came, and Mandla cursed himself. That wasn't the assurance the seven men on the other side needed.

"Look, we're not pirates," Mandla tried again. "We're here to protect Joberg, and I give you my word as a commander; my men won't hurt you."

Silence.

Mandla looked at the wall-mounted camera, waiting for Stefanus’ signal, but nothing came. In the control room, Stefanus observed the men on the other side and would move the camera if the enemy complied.

He reached for the built-in push-to-talk but was interrupted.

"We're not pirates," the man on the other side said.

Mandla didn't expect that.

The corsair on the other side continued. "We're a real military here to protect Joberg. To do the things you can't, Joberg is like a child, and we are its physician cutting out cancer so the whole can survive. I don't know how you think this will end, but we had a deal; what do you think Coral Corsair high command will do when we don't return?"

Mandla chewed on his answer for half a minute before responding.

"I'm familiar with your brotherhood's doctrine. Honor above all. I also know they don't tolerate failure. What will they do to you if you get back? Your only option is to work with us and start over."

Silence. The camera remained motionless.

"I have your word we'll be spared?" The voice asked.

"On my honor," Mandla said, "Which I promise I take as seriously as you do."

The com cut off, and after a minute, the camera on the wall shifted up and down. Stefanus’ signal that they were complying.

The four of them stacked up beside the hatch, ready to breach. The hatch groaned as the wheel spun and bolts shifted as Stefanus remotely opened it from the control room.

Mandla hesitated, looking around the opening for a trip wire. Seeing none, he stepped in first, his men spilling in behind him, each clearing a separate corner with satisfying proficiency.

Jabulani and Fransois kept their rifles on the line of seven kneeling men while Mandla and Lesago cuffed them.

They lined the men up and collected their weapons.

"Francois? Lesego?" one said in surprise as he recognized his former comrades. His brow furrowed. "Traitors."

Lesego shrugged. "You can preach honor all you want, but if you're okay with executing civilians, that honor isn't worth a damn."

"You said you had four fire teams!" Another protested. His voice was the one that had come through the door. "Not four men."

"Would you have surrendered to the four of us?" Jabulani asked, checking each of the restraints.

The man didn't answer.

"Didn't think so."

"Luckily for you, we've already retaken the brig," Mandla said. "So we've got a place to keep you. We won’t have to stuff you in a broom closet."

The four men marched their prisoners to the brig. The hatches resealed behind them as they walked.

"Not bad," Lesego mused. "How many prisoners does this get us?"

Jabulani Calculated. “Eighteen.”

Mandla didn't express his thoughts within earshot of the prisoners. As good as their capture ratio was, he needed men who he could reliably fight beside, not a liability he needed to babysit. He had no way of vetting the prisoners until he took control of the entire ship. After that, he could focus on identifying the ones he could trust. Unfortunately, the last time he was in the control room, the largest coalition of enemies, now headed by a man identified as Lekota, had been stalled trying to access the reactor room where they could cause serious damage.

Gunshots popped behind them, and Mandla whirled. That was back towards the control room.

"Jabulani, Francois, get the prisoners to the brig and then get to the control room. Lesego, with me!" He sprinted away, Lesego following behind.

Muted shots cracked, and someone cried out.

"Let's go!" Mandla hissed.

Lesego and Mandla burst into the wardroom, where two pirates fired down the cross corridor into the control room. Mandla and Lesego caught the unsuspecting pair in the side with a hail of gunfire. One man collapsed immediately, and the other staggered before falling over.

"Hey!" Mandla barked toward the control room. "It's Mandla! We got them. Hold your fire!" He kept his weapon trained on the downed corsairs.

"Okay," Stefanus called back.

Mandla jerked his head toward the fallen men. Now that they had positive control of the wardroom, they would check the bodies. Mandla could simply shoot them again before checking, but at the thought of executing injured men, his hands shook.

Lesego wordlessly slung his weapon and dropped onto the first body, gripping the man's shoulders.

Mandla nodded, and Lesego rolled onto his back, pulling the corpse over him. The dead man sagged limply.

Mandla checked for hidden grenades while Lesogo held the body in place.

"Clear," Mandla said, and Lesego rolled back over, dumping the man on his face.

Lesego moved to the second body, pinning it down with his weight.

"Go," Mandla said, and Lesago rolled them onto their backs. This body moved more rigidly than his partner. Mandla spotted the gleam of a knife as the man stabbed at Lesego.

With Lesego behind and under him, the man couldn't get to him.

Mandla angled so as not to shoot through the enemy into his partner and popped him in the forehead twice. The attacker slumped, lifeless this time, and Lesego shoved him away. Lesego rose, and Mandla checked him for wounds.

Jabulani and Fansois joined them, weapons ready, but they relaxed when they saw the situation was under control.

"How did they get here?" Jabulani asked. "We sealed the hatches."

Mandla pointed to the open smuggling hatch the enemy had used to infiltrate this room the first time Mandla was holed in here with his first fire team.

"Lekota shouldn't have access to that path," Francois said. "These two must have been working independently."

"The prisoners?" Mandla asked.

"Secured in the brig," Jabulani confirmed.

They entered the control room to find Stefanus, Andries, the medic, and Mbeki rattled but unharmed.

"How are we doing," Mandla asked.

"We have the control room, wardroom, sonar room brig, auxiliary machinery room, an escape trunk, and captain's quarters," Stefanus reported. "The armory is secured but unguarded. We Don’t have enough men to spread out to maintain all of our territory, so we’re focused on the control room and the brig."

"Eighteen prisoners and no casualties so far after taking the control room," Francois said.

"I have no idea what Leila's doing. But she's in the engine room with her team," Stefanus added.

"I've got her working on something," Mandla said. "What about the enemy?"

"Lekota has the mess hall, crew quarters, torpedo room, and pump room. They've been trying to access the reactor room, but they won't breach that door so easily. Everything else is still isolated."

Mandla nodded, shifting to look at the screen subdivided into square surveillance feeds. About a third of the screens displayed fuzzy static where Lekota's men ripped the cameras out as they moved.

Motion in the armory caught his attention. "I thought you said the armory was sealed,"

"Shit," Stefanus hissed as he looked at the control panel. "They’ve bypassed the armory hatch.”

Mandla selected the small box, and it ballooned, occupying the entire scene. Three men handed Vekto SS-77 heavy machine guns and grenade belts through the access hatch to half a dozen others.

Mandla's blood chilled. Heavy weapons tipped scales. The odds were already stacked against him. His plan to isolate and capture small groups vanished as Lekota's growing band prepared for war. He couldn’t beat that group in a flat fight. Mandla glanced around the room. Francois and Lesego were the best trained among his men, and every one of the enemies shared their training.

"It's okay," he muttered to himself. "We still have the control room, and so long as we have the control room, we have the edge."

"We need to shut off the oxygen," Jabulani insisted. "We can't win."

"They control more of the ship than we do," Francois protested, his boxy face hardened, a crease forming between his brows. "There are emergency respirators in every room; they'll have access to more."

"They have more men than us," Jabulani pointed out. "Higher demand."

"They could manually open an air valve if they got to the systems bay," Francois said.

"We hold the control room!" Mandla said again. "Maybe we can flip some of the prisoners in the brig."

"It's possible for some," Lesego agreed, "but remember, you're asking us to fight our friends."

"There's an escape trunk in the sonar room," Mbeki commented casually.

"There's only five deep pressure suits," Lieutenant Botha said. "It was reserved for the command staff. Besides, you'd never make it back to Joberg on foot. Those suits' power and oxygen reserves would only last six hours."

“We have to abandon ship,” Jabulani said.

"We're not retreating!" Mandla’s fist slammed on the terminal. He looked up, his eyes alight. “The Vortex Rider isn’t just some sub. It will be the flagship in Joberg’s new navy. Without it, we’re prisoners, and Joberg will live subjected to the corsairs forever. With it — we earn independence, just as Cornelious envisioned.” The scars up his left arm itched as he balled his fist.

His men silently watched him.

Mandla's took a frustrated breath. His mind continuously hit dead ends. He wouldn’t win in a firefight. He couldn't feasibly contain the enemy from the control room. The enemy had already killed his best fighters.

Mandla tabbed from fullscreen, and a chill ran down his spine. The two guards they left in the brig lay slumped in their blood, and Lekota himself handed rifles to the prisoners as his men unlocked their restraints.

Mandla ground his teeth. Two more men he had led to their deaths. "How many men did we think Lekota had?" he asked, expanding the brig feed.

"About twenty," Stefanus said. His eyes widened when he saw the screen.

"Make that thirty-eight."

Mbeki hissed, and Botha went pale.

"We can’t abandon Leila, and I doubt we could get to her now," Jabulani muttered.

Shit.

Stefanus looked down, crestfallen, but sat up abruptly when a spark gleamed in his eye. "Commodore, I have an idea."

Mandla groaned inwardly as he glanced at Stefanus. The salesman was creative, at times, too creative. However, sometimes, out-of-pocket tactics were exactly what won wars.

Stefanus smiled sheepishly. "I'll warn you, you're going to hate it."