The Empire’s Corps: Book 02 - No Worse Enemy, page 26
She peered through a curtain into a dining room and saw dozens of crewmen eating, drinking and watching a stage show where a dozen naked women danced around poles. Mandy flushed as soon as she realised what the women were doing, even though she’d done far worse just to keep Michael alive. Shaking her head, she walked away from the entertainment section and into the market cave. There, there were dozens of different stalls, selling loot the pirates had captured from various starships. One of them held datachips that promised hours of pornographic entertainment, or bootleg copies of the latest films and books from inside the Empire. Others sold ration packs, basic equipment, or weapons. Mandy walked over to the last stall and examined what the seller was offering, wondering if she had enough money to purchase a gun. And if she did, would she be allowed to keep it?
“That one is called the Killer,” the seller said. He grinned at her, showing that he was missing several teeth. “The bullets are designed to expand as soon as they are inside the body, helping to ensure an immediate death. She’s got one hell of a kick, but believe me, she’s worth it.”
Mandy picked up the gun, frowning slightly at the weight. The weapons she’d worked with on Avalon had been much lighter – but then, they’d been designed for women. And they’d been warned that shooting someone didn't guarantee death, even if you shot them in the head. Mandy had been told more about the different types of gun than she’d wanted to remember, information that she should have remembered. It would have come in very helpful right now.
“How much?” She asked. A thought struck her and she cursed herself. “How much for the gun and the bullets.”
“Couple of hundred neo-credos,” the seller said, with another grin. “But I can throw in a holster in exchange for a blowjob.”
Mandy glared at him, which made him laugh and her flush. Did she have a sign on her back saying whore? Or that she’d allowed a man to fuck her to save her friend’s life? Or, given how many wolf-whistles she’d attracted on Haven, was it just another example of someone trying to press their luck? There was no way to know.
“You couldn't afford me,” she said, spitefully, and reached for the lump of cash she’d been given. Vane had told her that the pirates received salaries, but she hadn't realised that it applied to her as well. But then, she was working for them. “A couple of hundred, you said?”
The seller nodded as she counted out the cash. She wasn't entirely sure how pirate economics worked, but they did seem to have evolved a replacement currency for the Imperial Credit, although she had no idea how. If she’d paid more attention to her father’s lectures on basic economics, she might have understood what she was seeing; it was quite possible, she decided, that they’d simply designed their own. But then, if the Admiral did intend to create his own Empire, he’d have to have some kind of unified currency.
“A very good choice,” the seller said, as he handed over the gun and ten clips of ammunition. “I suggest test-firing it on the firing range, so that I can make any adjustments you might need.”
Mandy nodded and followed his pointing finger towards the firing range. It was bigger than the one she recalled on Avalon, crammed with pirates firing all kinds of guns towards holographic targets. Jasmine had told her that firing ranges were good, but they had their limits; the only way to really learn was to go out into the field. But it was all Mandy had at the moment, so it would have to do. She paid the tender, loaded one of the clips into the gun, and fired on the targets. The gun jerked in her hand – the sound was louder than she expected, despite the earmuffs she’d been offered – as it fired.
“Hit,” the system reported.
“Good,” Mandy muttered. The weapon seemed to work fine. “Let's try that again, shall we?”
She fired seven more times, emptying the clip while testing the gun’s tolerance. Her tutors had hammered firearms safety into her head, warning her never to treat her weapons lightly. One of them had been fond of horror stories about self-inflicted wounds caused by carelessness with loaded weapons. Later, Mandy had asked Jasmine if the stories were true and the Marine had confirmed them. There were thousands of ways to commit suicide accidentally with a loaded weapon and the Civil Guard had done most of them over the years.
Ignoring a couple of offers – both indecent – from other pirates, she walked out of the firing range and right into Commander Travis, who held up a hand to stop her. Mandy barely knew him as anything other than a distant presence, the XO of Sword and one of her superiors. He was a short, rat-faced man with a smile that never quite touched his eyes and an attitude that chilled her, as if he was – in his own way – as insane as Ha.
“You will join me for dinner,” he said, flatly. It wasn't a request. “Come with me.”
Mandy wanted to bristle, to refuse, but she knew that could prove painful. All of the senior officers had permission to whip their subordinates whenever they felt like it and even through she’d managed to remain untouched since the first day she’d spent on the ship, she knew that could change in an instant. Instead, she followed him mutely, wondering just what he wanted to say to her. Or did he have something else in mind? If she’d given herself to Vane, did Travis think that he could have Mandy too?
Haven was larger than she had realised, with an entire section set aside for the senior officers and those with considerable amounts of money. It reminded her of the wealthier section on Camelot, before the Battle of Camelot and the destruction of the old Council. The thought made her smile, humourlessly, as Travis led her into a bar and then into a private compartment, closing the door behind him. Mandy felt a chill running down her spine as she realised that she had nowhere to go. If he wanted her...
“Sit,” he ordered, picking up a menu from a slot on the wall. “Order whatever you’d like.”
Mandy felt an odd sense that the world was turning surreal as she studied the menu. It could easily have come from a restaurant on Earth, one of the places she’d patronised with her friends before her father had annoyed the authorities. The menu included steak and chips, fish and chips, pies and chips...the owners seemed fond of chips. So were the settlers on Avalon. Everything seemed to go with chips.
“I recommend the steak,” Travis said, when it became apparent that Mandy couldn't make up her mind. “They bring it in from a farming world and fry it up nicely.”
Mandy nodded, feeling her mouth watering. After the ration bars, she would happily have eaten the algae-based sludge that kept the population of Earth alive. Steak and chips was really too much to hope for. Quickly, she nodded and allowed him to use a small intercom to place the order, before sitting down facing her. His dark eyes locked onto her face, something that bothered her more than she would have expected. Most of the pirates didn't bother to look at her face.
“Ordered,” Travis said. He produced a device from his pocket and put it on the table, between them. “Do you recognise this gadget?”
Mandy shook her head. It was a tiny sphere, no larger than an eyeball, glowing faintly with an eerie green light. The design meant nothing to her.
“The average person calls these things a privacy generator,” Travis said, his tone darkly amused. “They're banned in the Empire, of course. If you have nothing to hide, or so the reasoning goes, you don’t need to keep your conversations a secret. As you can probably imagine, there is a vast underground market for these devices. The most advanced ones can defeat even the latest bugs devised by Imperial Intelligence and used to monitor careless chatter when people think they’re alone.”
His eyes peered into hers. “What we say to each other, here in this chamber, will not go any further.”
Mandy swallowed, feeling as if the ground was shifting underneath her feet. “Why...?”
Travis smiled. “I suggest you don’t mention this conversation to anyone,” he said, dryly. “It could be extremely damaging to your health.”
There was a ding from the wall. Travis stood up, opened a hatch, and produced a large plate of steak and chips. “Yours, I believe,” he said, as he passed it to her, before taking the other plate for himself. “Do you understand what I told you?”
“...Yes,” Mandy stammered. “Sir, what is going on?”
Travis took a bite of something that looked like fried meat and noodles. “You’re new to the crew, but you have to understand that there’s no going back,” he said. “Whatever you were before you joined us, you’re one of us now. And if you want to survive as one of us, you have to blend in and join a network.” His lips twitched. “A network like the one I operate.”
Mandy took a chip and chewed on it to cover her feelings. It really tasted very good. But then, she told herself, the pirates weren't likely to merely refuse to pay if the food wasn't excellent. They’d be more likely to shoot the cook to encourage the others.
“It’s really quite simple,” Travis said, into the silence. “You agree to work with me; I give you my protection. Without some protection, young lady, you will eventually be dragged down. You’ve already survived one attempt at doing just that.”
“The man I killed,” Mandy said. It was astonishing how quickly she’d accepted what she’d done. “Don't you care about his death?”
“There is no shortage of thugs willing to serve as dumb muscle,” Travis said. “Right now, the Admiral is recruiting a dozen more to take his place. You, on the other hand, have potential. As a member of my network, you could earn status and power, perhaps even found a network of your own. But on your own...”
He leaned forward. “Sooner or later, someone is going to bring you down,” he added. “And then you will be nothing more than the ship’s whore.”
Mandy shivered. She’d understood, but she hadn't really wanted to face it. But who could blame her? All of a sudden, she understood why Jasmine had been so scathing about some of the cultures she’d seen as a Marine. Their unlucky inhabitants were shaped by the society they inhabited – and if their society refused to admit the rule of law, they ended up with the rule of the strong. Kill or be killed.
“Very well,” she said, carefully. Common sense said that she should see what other offers there might be before committing herself, but she suspected that there wouldn't be any other offers on the table. “What are you offering me?”
“You get a step up from engineering to tactical,” Travis said. “And you work for me directly. And you spy on Vane.”
Mandy flushed, which made him grin. “Do you really think the entire ship hasn't noticed that you’re sleeping with him?”
“No,” she admitted. “Why do you want me to spy on him?”
Travis gave her a long considering look. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
Mandy pasted a smile on her face. “How do you expect me to work for you properly if I don’t know what’s going on?”
“True,” Travis agreed. He took a piece of meat off his plate and chewed on it before speaking again. “Vane is part of the Captain’s personal network – why do you think he gets such a free hand in the engineering compartment? Weakening his position strengthens the position of the engineering second, who happens to be part of my network. If the Admiral should happen to believe that Vane is incompetent, or wasting time and resources, the Captain will have no choice but to give him an airlock promotion.”
Put him out the airlock, Mandy translated, mentally.
She suspected she understood how Travis intended to operate. Take over enough parts of the ship, through putting his people in the right places, and he might be able to seize control of Sword – and then either replace the Admiral, or be anointed as the new Captain. It made her wonder why the Admiral or the Captain didn't simply replace him, before she realised that they would spark off an internal mutiny simply by trying. Removing the head of a patronage network – for that was what it was – would destroy everyone who was part of that network. They’d have to fight, if only out of self-defence.
Travis finished eating his meal and looked over at her. “I won’t ask again,” he said. “If you don't want to join me, you can continue on your own, sleeping with Vane and trying to avoid the rest of the crew. But sooner or later, you will run out of luck and that will be the end of you. Those who stand on their own have no friends nor family.”
“I understand,” Mandy said. “I will join you.”
“Good,” Travis said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a privacy generator, just like the one he’d placed on the table. “This one is for you.”
Mandy took it in surprise. “On the ship, use it whenever you talk to any of my people – or me,” Travis explained. “Try not to use it if you’re alone, because that can arouse suspicions – the Admiral might object, strongly. Or when you’re with Vane. The Captain keeps an eye on him and he might realise that you have one too.”
“Oh,” Mandy said. She felt her face turning red. “I...”
“The Captain probably isn't interested in watching your couplings,” Travis said. “Just as well, as I am sure that Vane uses his own when he’s with you. But still...try to avoid using it unless there’s no other choice.”
He stood up, “I’ll pay for the dinner,” he said. “Order dessert, if you would like.”
Mandy hesitated as he reached for the privacy generator. “A question,” she said. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Travis snorted. “If you learn nothing else from me, learn this,” he said. “There isn't a person on the ship, or this asteroid, who will do anything unless there’s something in it for him. I don’t benefit by betraying you, so I’m not going to bother. We can help each other, which should be enough to keep us both loyal.”
He smiled. “And if you are planning to betray me, rest assured that I have precautions in place,” he added. “You won’t even begin to betray me before I kill you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Q-Ship: general term for a warship rigged up to look like a merchantman, or built on a merchantman hull. Commonly used during the Unification Wars to sneak into orbit of enemy worlds and start firing; later, with the growth of interstellar piracy, used to lure pirates into point-blank range before opening fire. Advantages; stealth and surprise. Disadvantages: bulky, unwieldy and often inflexible.
-Jane’s Fighting Starships
“You and your bright ideas,” Joe said.
“The Colonel said that it was a great idea,” Blake protested, as they scrambled over the freighter’s hull. “And the intelligence girl loved it.”
“That’s because the intelligence officers have never met an idea for sneaking around and spying on people that they didn't like,” Joe pointed out. “Whatever happened to charging in, blowing the shit out of everything that moved and then screaming questions at the wreckage?”
“It went along with the rest of the Empire,” Jasmine reminded him. There would be no replacement for the dead Marines, or anyone else they lost on Avalon. She had wondered, after the wake, if one day the company would be whittled down to a handful of Marines, with no hope of rebuilding their strength. “We don’t have superior firepower right now.”
The freighter they’d pulled from orbit around Elysium had been designed to transport goods across the galaxy, not engage in fights with warships. But no mercenary company would travel in an unarmed ship – mercenary companies made enemies and an unarmed ship would be a sitting duck – and so the Marines were bolting various weapons to the craft’s hull. Doing it in Phase Space was tricky – and scary, even for the Marines – but there was no choice. Once they’d handled Crawford, they would have to go on to the pirate base.
“I never thought that I would miss the Navy,” Blake admitted, as they struggled to put a missile pod in the right place. “All those fleet officers, drinking coffee while we slogged through the mud, reluctant to bring their ships into engagement range for fear that they would get their pretty hulls scratched...I never thought I’d miss them. A single squadron could probably destroy everything the Admiral has in a single fight.”
