Haywire, page 3
A stream of antimatter particles flooded into the nuclear reactor propelling the Lady Godiva through space, and his skin pulled taut across his face as their speed swiftly increased. His vision blurred, but he saw clearly enough to keep them headed toward the mining dock. A light on their communications panel blinked in angry flashes, but he ignored it.
Balls of plasma blasted away from the Alliance ships and slammed into the Lady’s outer hull. Dark marks scored the skin of the ship, but the ablative armor took the damage and held strong. Even so, Gimble winced. He knew the ship could take it, at least for a short time, but that didn’t dull his sympathy for her pain.
“It’s alright, my love,” he whispered. “We’ll lose ‘em yet.”
“I hope so, for all our sakes.” Crowe’s tone was less than sure.
“Perhaps this will ease your mind a bit then.”
Gimble sent them into a tight roll, and the Alliance cannons, unprepared for the maneuver, shot harmlessly into space. He tilted the stick forward and to the right, and the ship responded by going into a spiraling dive toward Vesta, which now entirely filled their field of view.
The pirate hunters fired their cannons again, but the blasts narrowly missed the Lady as Gimble turned the stick to one side and then the other, changing her direction and heading in as unpredictable a manner as he could manage without losing total control.
“That’s got ‘em.” Crowe bounced in his seat. “Cut across that mine’s docking outlet there and you should be able to–”
Gimble had already considered that option and dismissed it. The Alliance ships were just too damn fast and powerful. Instead he turned the Lady on a direct heading for the docking bay’s opening. “They’re too close to be shaken off in a convoy. We’re going to have to work a bit harder than that, I’m afraid.”
Crowe looked at his radar screen, and the color drained from his cheeks. “You don’t mean to… do you?”
A grim smile cracked Gimble’s face. “I do.”
The Lady Godiva tacked left and then right, but its bearing never strayed from the mine opening dead in their sights. From a distance it hadn’t seemed like a large structure, but up-close the docking area sank into the surface of Vesta like the maw of a colossal metal beast. The ships flying out of it went from faraway radar blips to deadly obstacles in short order.
Crowe held a hand up to his ear, cupping the small earpiece cradled inside it. “Oh my, we are certainly not making many friends today.”
“I need a good laugh. Let’s hear it.”
Crowe hit the button beneath the blinking comm light, and a voice tumbled from the overhead speakers in mid yell. “– out of there! I say again, this is Olbers Mining Consortium Traffic Control! You are not cleared to approach. Turn away now and respond!”
Gimble chuckled and turned the ship to take them through the middle of the docking bay’s opening. They’d wanted a response, and now they had one.
“All ships in Docking Bay Alpha-Two!” the traffic control officer said. “Clear the opening! Scramble!”
The ships in the docking area moved about crazily, trying desperately to avoid the Lady, and for a moment Gimble wasn’t sure he could thread his way between them, but he let out a long, slow breath and allowed his hands to work on their own. Seconds later he passed through the opening.
“I’m guessing you have a plan,” Crowe said, “and aren’t just flying us around like atoms banging about in your barmy head?”
Gimble took in the contents of his radar screen, desperation wafted up from him like stale sweat. There were more return signals than he’d ever seen before, too many ships and walls and construction beams. Letting his fear get to him would mean their death, though, so he gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “Don’t I always?”
“Aye, though usually not a good one.” His crewmate chuckled as he pointed at their aft viewscreen. “Just as you suspected, they’re finding the chase less to their liking than they thought. Those bloody bastards are too big to tangle with us in here.”
The docking area was full of unsuspecting miners, something Gimble had hoped would give the Alliance pirate hunters pause, but his relief turned to ash when they opened fire again. Apparently a facility operating under the flag of the Eurasian Union wasn’t something they worried too much about damaging.
They missed the Lady, but only just. Gimble was certain he felt the heat of their weapons before he looped around a support beam and angled back toward the exit. The other ships in the dock flew for what safety they could find.
“Alliance ships, cease fire at once!” the traffic control officer said in shock and fury.
“This is Captain Nathaniel Ridge,” a clipped voice replied, his speech as precise as only an American Alliance officer’s could be. “Those pirates were sighted in our territory, and by law we have the authority to chase them straight to the gates of Hell if needs be. If you’re worried about your people, I suggest you move them.”
Gimble barked out a sharp laugh at the captain’s arrogance, but the sound ended quickly when two of the Alliance ships moved to block the exit. Their bulk, which had seconds ago worked against them, was now to their benefit.
Crowe sighed and glared. “Have another plan, do we?”
Feeling like a fox that had been run to ground, Gimble turned the ship and looked for another way out, any way out. He considered landing and taking hostages, but he threw the thought out as quickly as it came – they’d be blasted to bits as soon as the ship settled on a landing platform. He noted the mining tunnel that led deeper into the asteroid at the bottom of the docking bay like a passageway to the netherworld. A caravan of carts went in and out of it in a steady procession.
“Crowe, ping that tunnel and take a sounding. I need to know if it leads where I think it does.”
“Heave to, Lady Godiva!” the Alliance captain shouted over the radio, his haughty voice making Gimble’s teeth clinch. “You have nowhere left to run!”
Crowe’s fingers danced across his keyboard. “I believe it does. Shall we?”
Gimble’s eyes narrowed to slits and he lowered the ship’s nose toward the abyss. “We shall indeed.”
Holding his controls so tightly his knuckles ached, Gimble flew around a series of gantries, swooped toward the ceiling of the docking bay, sidled past a trio of fleeing ships, and rolled over until they were aimed at the tunnel’s opening. Plasma lit the cavern like the inside of a volcano, the super-heated weapon blasts chasing after them every meter of the way. With a quick prayer to whatever gods might be watching over him, he tightened his aim on the tunnel and pushed his throttle forward. Bits of cavern wall pelted his ship as the pirate hunters discharged every weapon they had, refusing to let him get away. When the tunnel opening slipped past them, Gimble’s heart skipped a beat.
The walls of the mining tunnel were close enough to touch if he’d wanted to. Ore carts rocketed at them, and sweat trickled down his back as he spun the ship this way and that. Most went by unscathed, but despite his skill he still hit a few, and when he did they bounced against the walls in a shower of rock and metal, sending a deep thrum through the Lady and a wince across his face. He didn’t know how long it took them to wind their way through the mining tunnels, but when the light of a distant docking bay sparkled in his forward windows, a giggle bubbled against his lips. Seconds later they were out of the tunnel and blasting back into space, far from the pirate hunters’ eyes and engines.
“Good show!” Crowe’s voice shook and his face drained of color, but the smile he wore nearly split his face in two. “I don’t know how long it’ll take for my bits to drop back down again, but at least I still have them.”
Gimble checked his fuel gauge, saw they were in reasonable shape, and hit the afterburner to make sure no one could track their route into the field. “That’s what Captain Laroux pays me so handsomely for, Mr. Crowe.”
Both pirates laughed and let out long sighs that dampened the air. The asteroid field crowded in around them again, but that was to their good. The less of a trail the pirate hunters had to follow, the better.
Leaning forward, Gimble activated the ship’s autopilot. All of their sensors said the coast was clear, and after an hour of silent flying he finally started to believe them. Grateful for small favors, he shifted around to loosen his seat restraints, but suddenly an alarm bell rang out, and far ahead of them a bright light flashed.
“Have they somehow gotten around us?” he asked, the skin between his eyes crinkling as he strained to understand how that could possibly be.
Crowe looked at his central radar screen, turned to look at another display, and shook his head. “No, this is something new. Sensors show a gamma surge one-hundred-thousand kilometers dead ahead. It was there, and then it was gone. Radar is picking up a ship near it though.”
“And what flag is it waving?”
Crowe frowned and shook his head. “None. It’s silent as the grave.”
“Hhmm. Let’s... let’s have us a look, but keep an eye on it and alert me if it so much as twitches.”
Gimble pulled back on the throttle, and outside his cockpit he could see retro-engines fire to slow their forward momentum. His tired eyes flicked between the forward cockpit window and the radar to track their approach, ready for the unknown ship to move or make a sign of life. When they were close enough for the Lady’s cameras to give them a good view, he brought them to a stop.
“It doesn’t look familiar.” Crowe’s bulging eyes devoured the ship on his screens. “You recognize it?”
Gimble shook his head, flummoxed at what was before him. The unknown vessel was oblong, darkly colored, its lines were sleek and sharp. But, it didn’t look remotely like any ship he’d ever seen, and he’d seen more than his fair share. Letters and numbers were painted in red on what appeared to be the tail. They didn’t match up with any identification formats he knew of, though.
“It’s a blasted mystery to me. Have we picked up anything from it?”
Crowe scratched at the patchy stubble on his face and grimaced. “Minimal power readings, and the engine’s been banged about something awful. There’s carbon scoring all down the hull. Whoever that is, they had a hell of a time getting here.”
From the damage he saw, Gimble could only agree with his crewmate’s assessment. “Do you pick up any signs of life?”
“I’m picking up biological material, but... No, no life signs.”
“Well, good for us then. Salvage it is. Might as well get something for our troubles, yeah?”
Crowe nodded so quickly the skin of his neck wobbled. “Bloody hell right. Perhaps this will help Cap’n Laroux look a bit more kindly on us.”
After a magnetic grappler descended through a hatch on the keel of the ship, Gimble locked the damaged vessel in his sights and fired. A tethered magnet zipped through space like a harpoon. Once it locked into place, a wench turned and drew the strange ship into the Lady’s outer storage hold.
Once Gimble was sure their salvage was secure, he reengaged the engine. “Alright, let’s go home and see just what it is we’ve caught. As my old duffer used to say, ‘A late fish is better than no fish.’“
The remainder of the flight was tense, both crewmates expecting at any moment for Alliance ships to appear on their screens. So, when Gimble saw his home port come shimmering out of the blackness like a ghost caught in moonlight, he released a ragged sigh of relief. With Puerto de la Sombra now in hailing range, they had finally reached safe harbor.
“Approaching vessel, you’ve entered the territory of the Crimson Kings,” a pinched voice said. “You’ve got five seconds to present your colors, and then we open fire.”
Crowe grunted. “Smitty sounds right irritable.”
Not giving a damn how Smitty felt, Gimble pressed a series of buttons on the panel in front of him. IFF transponders had already broadcasted the Lady’s identification information, but friend-or-foe transmissions could be faked. To make sure ships really were who they said they were, a secondary set of encrypted transmissions were required. Those codes were known only by those who’d proven their loyalty and worth.
Several seconds later Smitty’s voice returned. “You’re late, Gimble. Typical. The captain isn’t pleased.”
Gimble’s eyes pinched closed and he ground his teeth together. “Weren’t our fault. Alliance pirate hunters came out of nowhere. No worries though. We lost ‘em quick enough.”
“Ah, yes.” Smitty stretched the word into a hiss. Disdain dripped from the speakers. “The channels are abuzz with tales of your fancy bit of flying out at Vesta. Is that your definition of a discreet recon mission? Because, as I recall, that was what Captain Laroux tasked you with.”
Crowe leaned forward and grabbed the comm mic like he was strangling a chicken. “It’s like Gimble said – wasn’t our fault. Those Alliance ships were lyin’ in wait for us. Either they’re getting smarter – which I very much doubt – or we need to suss out new recon positions. Either way, they found us, but we lost ‘em and lived to tell the tale. Plus, on our way back, we found a wee bit of salvage. Could be valuable.”
Smitty chuckled. “You twits had better hope so.”
Gimble pulled the mic back to his face with an irritated yank. “Watch your tongue, Smitty! We’re the ones with our necks on the line. You’re just a lubber standing watch over a computer board.”
“We’ll see about that,” the distant voice replied in a whiny growl. “The captain’s waiting for you in the docking bay, and anything less than a king’s ransom will most likely mean a short drop and a hard stop for the both of ya. Start running now, and I’ll give you a minute’s head start.”
Nausea rolled through Gimble’s stomach like an angry ocean wave, drowning his fury, and for a brief moment his hand wanted to grab the control stick and turn them about. But he wasn’t a coward, nor was he disloyal, so he maintained his heading and hardened his innards. “Shut your mouth, Smitty, and do your job. Are we cleared to land?”
Gimble imagined Smitty’s teeth gnashing together as he fumed silently, but after a moment the distant pirate coughed and said, “Permission to dock, granted. I look forward to seeing you swing. Puerto de la Sombra, out.”
Resentment boiled up from Crowe like a furnace with too much coal in its belly. “Who the hell does he think he is speaking that way to us? It’s easy to talk when you’re buried snug as a bug in an asteroid every minute of every day, surrounded by ships and cannons. Get him out here in the black with only his cunning and guts to see him through, and he’d be singing a different tune entirely.”
Gimble agreed, but saw little point in chewing on the incident any further. “Most likely so, Mr. Crowe, but there’s no use grousing. We still need to get the Lady and her salvage safely landed. We can have a chat with Smitty once the captain’s had a look at what we brought him.”
On the small screen next to his right knee, half a dozen yellow dots flew wide orbital patterns around the asteroid that served as their base of operations, ready to destroy anyone who wandered too close. Other ships were already docked, their hulls sparkling against the rocky exterior of the asteroid.
Puerto de la Sombra had once been rich with metal deposits, but after miners had sucked its bones clean the hollowed-out rock had been left to tumble its way through the solar system forgotten. Captain Voorhees, who’d founded the Crimson Kings and served as its captain before finding himself on the wrong end of a Eurasian pirate hunter’s broadside, had been the one to discover the abandoned asteroid and see its true potential.
Once they were close, Gimble fired the port thrusters to swing them about and line them up with their docking connectors. His hands were steady as he guided them closer and closer. When the connectors hit their airlocks, the ship barely rumbled.
As he unlocked the belts strapped across his lap and chest, Crowe reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“The captain won’t be too upset, will he?” Crowe’s bulging eyes were twitchier than usual.
Gimble started to shake his head, but then he shrugged and slumped in his seat. “I’ve served with Laroux for a long time, same as you, but I no more know his mind than I do my ex-wives’. We did the best we could, and we managed to bring something home with us. To my mind that’s a good day. All we can do now is hope his eyes have a kind twinkle in ‘em when he sees us. If not, it’s been good serving with ya, Crowe.”
Crowe sighed, then nodded his long skull up and down in slow motions. “Aye, indeed. Serving with you has been an honor and a pleasure, Mr. Gimble.”
Behind them the bridge airlock opened with a long hiss, and Gimble hoped their lives didn’t end at the gangway.
Chapter Four
Once outside the customs area of Arcadia Spaceport, the smell of humanity – a heady blend of sweat, bad breath, and weariness – punched Shawn across the face. Too many hours in the scrubbed atmosphere of the shuttle and the small spaceport terminal had made him forget what real life smelled like. He wrinkled up his noise, but it wasn’t all bad. If nothing else it was real, and he appreciated being grounded again. And, as pungent as it might have been, it was nothing compared to the smell of a club packed with people drinking and dancing.
The sudden thought of Ilona, his band, and their upcoming gig at Minerva’s Den flashed through his brain, and a fresh wave of resentment at his situation washed over him. He clenched his jaw to keep from shouting in frustration at the innocent people around him.
Past customs was a row of stalls advertising local hotels, restaurants, and sights of interest – though he figured their definition of interest was much different than his. He walked past each one without looking at or caring what they promoted. So far as he was concerned, two weeks spent alone in his room at his mother’s house would be just fine. At least then he could practice his songs and get something useful out of the trip.
