The Star Pirate's Folly (9 page)

“Never thought I was gonna die in this thing,” he said. “My
first big boost.”

“First and last. Sorry, bud. I tried, but—”

“Nah, man,” Tattoos said, waving away the apology. “Just
always figured I'd end up getting vented back on Optima or shanked on some
prison cube or something, y'know?”

Tattoos pulled a flask from a pouch on his suit and waggled
it at his partner. The Beard cracked a grin, and they both unclasped their
helmets and tossed them behind the seats.

The ink-stenciled young man unscrewed the cap and offered
the Beard the first drink, who accepted with a grateful bow of his head. He
swirled the liquid inside the thin flask and smelled the sweet sharp bite of
lotus.

The countdown read thirty seconds.

The faint jade glow of the gravity tether flashed bright for a
moment, sputtered, then finally surged with power as one of the generators
overloaded. The tether’s snaking stream flooded with excess energy, yanked hard
on the comet, overpowered the ship’s brakes, and dragged the whole craft
savagely into Orpheus.
Tuggernaut #7
rocketed into the comet with
stunning speed and smashed against the unflinching mountainous terrain, crushed
instantly. A shower of ejecta exploded from the impact site—chunks of shiny red
steel sparkled when the sunlight caught them.

***

As Orpheus twisted and spun along its new trajectory its
ancient bones shifted into unfamiliar new positions. Onward the comet rolled
through space toward the sun, gaining heat, spewing more gas and debris as it
went.

Craggy black peaks which had stood for millennia fractured
from the pent up primordial fury of geysers beneath, ejecting great chunks of
packed dust and ice into the comet’s misty coma. Behind Orpheus stretched two
tails thousands of miles long, one a radiant cloak of gaseous particles
billowing in the stellar wind, the other a sweeping trail of broken ice and
rock.

Its unwelcome cargo detached their proboscis-like tethers
from its skin and vanished within moments into the empty blackness behind, the
whole swarm moving as one. The parasites had introduced an element of chaos to
its eternal circuit, and instead of following its previous well-traveled path
it careened along a tighter orbit toward the distant star Lux.

The blue planet Surface, once a far-off speck, grew in size
and brightness with each moment as the rogue comet rushed on. Faster, faster
Orpheus plunged to the center of the system, an unchained force of nature
barreling along nearly perpendicular to the neat circular orbit of Surface.
Orpheus was a minefield on the loose.

 “What will it feel like?” Bee was still strapped into her
seat in the shuttle behind Bill Silver as they awaited their turn to launch.

“Nothing. You won’t feel it,” Bill said.

“But the ships I saw were going so fast. How does that
work?”

An annoyed glance from Bill. “You really need me to explain
right now?”

Bee sat back and rolled her eyes. “Fine. No.”

In the copilot’s chair, Governor Strump flicked between
different news feeds on his pad. The faint chattering of different voices was
indistinguishable, but Bee could hear excitement, fear, and anxiousness. Strump
seemed pretty upset about the comet. Paranoid even. He finally settled on Cap
City’s favorite anchor, Chep Stanley.

Bill gave a relenting sigh and turned to look at Bee. “Inside
the ship we don’t feel any gravitational force except whatever is generated by
our artificial gravity. Since there are layers of nullsteel wrapped around the
entire ship, any external gravitational forces can’t reach the interior—they’re
nullified, hence the name.”

“Oh. So why do we have to keep sitting in the shuttle then?”

“It’s just—protocol,” Bill said. “Just wait for two
seconds.”

She was about to ask how the launch pods worked when Tower’s
voice came in deep, calm, and clear over the speakers.

“Privateer frigate
Wanderlust
, you are cleared for
launch. Departure in fifteen seconds.”

Governor Strump turned up the volume on his video. Chep
Stanley still. Bee leaned forward to see as best she could. Chep was video
interviewing a navy-suited Planetary Defense officer, whose stern visage
appeared opposite the peppy anchor.

“So please tell us, Admiral Perry, exactly what it is you
think we’re dealing with here,” Chep said. “We’ve all feared the pirates would
come in force someday. Do you think that’s what is happening right now?”

“Well, this ‘Starhawk’ could be telling the truth—or he
could be bluffing. It could be some kind of hoax. For all we know the images
we’ve seen could just be more debris from the comet. They could have easily
been doctored to give the appearance of a fleet in formation.”

“The evidence seems quite convincing to a lot of experts.”

“Well, some experts are convinced more easily than others.”
The Admiral folded his arms across his chest. “We’re unable to give
confirmation either way while shielding our instruments from the comet. Even if
he is telling the truth, I don’t trust a single word he says. Pirates are
scum.”

Chep smiled with the polite grace of a seasoned anchor. “Why
don’t we just show our viewers a short clip for context so there’s no
confusion. Let’s play that clip.”

“Ten seconds to launch,” droned Tower, and began to count
down. “Nine, eight….”

Her stomach started to feel like it wasn’t sure which way
was up again, and she leaned her head back against the cool metal wall. Blood
pounded in her ears, drowning out the interview. This was it.

For as long as she could remember this was the plan—just get
out there, doesn’t matter how. But then everything happened so fast, just all
of a sudden. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she should have stayed longer?

The fear that she had gone soft during her time at the hotel
worried her, and she momentarily lamented all the days she had spent planted in
front of a computer screen when she should have been working on her sparring or
something. What if she was going all the way out there just to wind up getting
herself killed?

She never did sign up for those marksmanship courses.

And she never said goodbye to Hargrove.

“Five seconds to launch,” Tower said.

She heard a gruff voice from the video clip saying, “…fine
citizens of the Core have nothing to fear…”

“Close your eyes if you think you’re going to puke again,”
Bill said. “I’d prefer to avoid that.”

Bee shut her eyes. Second thoughts wouldn’t help her now.
She was committed. So why did this little voice in the back of her head keep
telling her—

Find him.

Her eyes snapped open at Mother’s words. She’d been so quiet
recently.

Find him find him find him
Mother chanted.

“…just here to collect our man Jensen Lee, and then we’ll
leave,” the man in the clip said.

The video. That voice. Bee strained against the straps
holding her in place, trying to get a better view over Strump’s shoulder.
Someone was making some kind of speech on the bridge of a starship.

The shot snapped in close and she saw it—the face. The black
hair, the piercing blue eyes. The corners of his lips tugged into a coyote’s
smile as he spoke. A predator’s smile.

FIND HIM KILL HIM FIND HIM KILL HIM

It was the face she’d been chasing all her life.

“We’re headed for Surface,” Starhawk said. “I hope you’re
willing to listen to reason and give us Jensen Lee. He’s just a lost wandering
dog, and we want to take him home. Just let him on up through your nice gate
and send him over in a shuttle so we can get on our way.”

KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM

“…two, one, launch,” finished Tower, and Bee screamed with
horrified futility as she was hurled into space aboard
Wanderlust
.

***

Starhawk stood on the bridge of his flagship,
Deep Fog,
watching a magnified view of Orpheus as it tumbled toward Surface. They would
make their approach in the wake of its passage to maximize their window of
opportunity. The planet’s defenses would only be in disarray for a brief time
before the comet’s chaotic debris field settled and everything was
repositioned.

As soon as the comet was in play, his forces would descend
upon the dark side of the planet, the defenseless side. Clusters of bright
lights marked the sites of large cities. Everything in orbit worth worrying
about was on the sunward side of the planet, protected from the comet as much
as possible. His fleet could never stand a full barrage from the planet’s
deadly orbital cannons, but if he was careful about where he gathered his
forces, he could take a few hits.

He’d already released his video imploring the good people of
Surface to simply listen to reason and give up one man to save thousands. All
he needed to do was wait for them to agree to his terms, pick up Jensen Lee,
and escape with the map. When it came down to it, his own ship was the only one
required for his mission.

Everything else was a necessary ruse—he was doubtful that an
assault against the orbital station would succeed, even with his fleet at full
strength. Maybe if they’d been able to swing Orpheus in closer like the true
wrecking ball it was supposed to be. Maybe.

But as the plan unfolded, Starhawk felt the ground crumbling
beneath his feet. He’d barely been able to convince the crew to even make the
journey. Every other raid they’d made into the Core ended with blood and
vacuum. But this time he had the element of surprise—and even better, the
element of disruption. The entire planetary defense system was currently in
complete shambles.

It was a chance, that’s all it was. One opportunity to land
a blow square on the jaw of those sneering do-gooders in the Core. Orpheus was
his opening to upset the order in their otherwise placid existence. It was
something to strike fear into them, right where they thought they were safe.

Starhawk imagined them trembling in their little glass city
on Surface. It was he that threw the stone, he who brought the fear.

The comet barely missed Surface in astronomical terms—just
under fifteen thousand miles. Orpheus passed ahead of the planet and sailed by
on its new orbit. As the gases and vapor from its tail swept toward Surface
they swirled into ethereal curtains that clouded the blue planet. Then the
debris trail hit, and streaks of burning ice raked across the atmosphere.

It was time to release the hounds.

“Two-Gut, move into position,” Starhawk said on their
private channel.

“…Heard, boss,” came the reluctant, grating reply from
Captain Two-Gut Gruce.

Captain Gruce was in command of
Red Shade
, one of the
fleet’s three total spacecraft carriers. He would take the carrier alone and
move to intercept the orbital station head on. The second carrier,
Bleachbone
,
and ten of the fleet’s twenty warships were already circling around behind the
station while
Red Shade
provided a distraction for their pincer attack.

Gruce would make an easy target.

He was one of the holdouts who resented Starhawk’s rise to
power. He was old and fat and slow and didn’t want to make an attack on the
Core. It had been years since he last captained a ship, and after half a decade
of sloth and swilling wine Gruce was unprepared in the most disastrous sense of
the word. But Starhawk needed his men—and found him easily persuaded to take
command of
Red Shade
, enticed by the scent of power and promised wealth.

Of course, that was before he filled in old Two-Gut on his
role in the assault. But by then the greedy fool was committed, couldn’t back
down without being branded a coward. He put up some protest about being the tip
of the spear, but Starhawk’s word was law. Gruce would do it under orders—and
if not Starhawk could have a couple of loyal grubs from
Red Shade
put
him down. Half of them were looking to slide a blade between his ribs anyway.

Starhawk’s warship
Deep Fog
, the final carrier
Polyphemus
,
and the remaining ten warships would remain in the safety of the planet’s dark
side. Their presence would put half the planet’s cities under threat of
bombardment, giving them some bargaining power. All he wanted was Jensen Lee
and the damn map. Surely they wouldn’t hold out long given such terms.

“Zeeda, some more wine,” he said, and held out the empty mug
for his number two.

***

“Send me back! I’ll kill him! Send me back!”

“Just hold her down—”

“She kicked me in the ribs!”

“Then hold her legs! Just keep her still for a—”

Silver howled with pain when Bee lunged forward in the
seat’s harness and chomped down on his right wrist while he was preparing a
sedative. He grabbed the device with his prosthetic and with deft precision
pressed it against the side of the enraged girl’s neck. Her jaws went slack on
his wrist as the drug took hold. She slumped into a deep sleep.

“What the hell just happened to her?” Governor Strump shook
his head in disbelief. “She was fine a minute ago.”

“Beats me. Girl’s crazy.”

“Who
is
she, even?”

“She worked at the hotel where Slack Dog got killed,” Silver
said.

“And what’s she doing
here
?”

“Just help me get her out of here.”

Silver unstrapped her harness while the Governor pushed her
shoulder against the wall to keep her upright. Silver noticed some exposed skin
on her right shoulder was stained by the mottled red-purple of fresh bruising.
That was where he’d grabbed the girl aboard the station. He hadn’t meant to
hurt her, but with everything that was happening—well, she stole the damned map
right out of his pocket, what did she expect?

At least they were finally on board.

***

Starhawk’s chair on the bridge of
Deep Fog
held a
commanding view out the warship’s main window. The chair was mounted on a
platform which overlooked several other crew members below as they worked
different stations. Several windows were projected in front of the chair at eye
level—a gravitational chart of Surface, a live feed from
Red Shade
, and
a three-dimensional map of the planet and all nearby objects.

Red Shade
was anchored in the path of the orbital
station. The carrier
Bleachbone
approached from behind, gaining on the
station but still well out of range.

“Gruce, they contact you?” he said.

“Nothing yet.”

Starhawk growled with frustration as he swatted the projected
windows away and stood. He had less than a week before the Core Fleet returned.
If he couldn’t get ahold of Lee before then they’d be too heavily outmatched to
have any leverage. He had to push now, hard.

“Fire off a warning salvo.”

Red Shade
was still out of range, but it would draw
attention. Gruce grunted an affirmative, and Starhawk watched as several of the
warship’s cannons primed green and fired massive slugs of nullsteel toward the
orbital station. They’d miss—barely.

“Give me a channel they’ll hear me on,” he said to his
underlings, and waited for a confirmation from one of them. “Okay, fine
citizens. Time’s up. What’s it gonna be?”

Starhawk paced the small area on the platform around his
chair.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry here, so expedience is
appreciated,” he said.

A calm, steady male voice answered him. “Transport shuttle
en route to fleet carrier
Red Shade
.”

Starhawk sat back in his chair and the projected windows
returned, allowing him to confirm that a single shuttle had indeed been
launched from the orbital station. “Well hey! Look at you, cooperating with us!
That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”