Voidhawk

by Halstead, Jason

  They made it up the plank to the Voidhawk amidst the confusion. Jodyne was standing nearby, several daggers laying about the deck around her, and she greeted Dexter with a smile.

  “Gave us a scare there, lad,” she said with relief. She started grabbing up the daggers and, after shoving a few in her clothing, she handed the rest to Jenna.

  “Had to borrow these, sorry dearie,” Jodyne said with a smile.

  The elf just nodded, still distracted by the struggling woman in Rosh’s arms.

  “Rosh, put her in one of the holds or something. Tie her up if she won’t behave. Keshira, help him,” Dexter said. He glanced at the fighting on the streets and shook his head. “And hurry! I mean to be off this rock right quick!”

  While they confined their captive, Dexter took a hand on the deck readying the rigging for departure. He kept glancing at the docks, knowing his luck was bound to run out soon. Especially since Duballin apparently knew what ship Jenna had come in on and, by now, had to know they had escaped.

  Rosh and Keshira returned to the deck without incident, aside from a few scratches on Rosh’s arms and face. A few moments later Bekka lifted them free of the embattled docks, turned the ship gracefully in the sky and headed void-ward. A few pistols fired, seeing them in the air, and a few arrows sailed up at them, but they were quickly left behind by the greater speed of the void ship. In a matter of less than an hour Port Freedom was behind them and they were safely away.

  * * * *

  With Rosh at his side, Dexter entered the cargo hold and fought the urge to chuckle. The girl that had attacked them was laying upon the floor. Her hands were tied together, as were her feet, and they were again tied together. She had been muzzled as well, but she had chewed through the rope that had been in her mouth.

  “Good thing you saved us from a little girl,” Dexter commented dryly.

  Rosh looked on, eyes wide. “Captain, that girl’s got a powerful need to hurt somebody. She’s stronger than you think too!”

  “Is this true?” Dexter asked, kneeling down next to the girl.

  She snarled at him and tried to inch forward to be within striking distance. Dexter raised his eyebrows in surprise and backed up. He shook his head and looked to Rosh, who just shrugged.

  “I guess we should put her down,” Dexter said, at a loss to explain what vexed her.

  “Hang on now, Captain,” Rosh said, surprising him.

  “Rosh, I expect you’d be the first to advise such a course?”

  Rosh shrugged again. “Well, yeah, but she’s a pretty thing, once you look past the pale skin and how skinny she is. I’m thinking if we try hard enough and clean her up, then get her fed, she might be thankful.”

  “Thankful?” Dexter asked suspiciously. “I’ll not be having any servants or slaves aboard the ‘Hawk.”

  “No, not that,” Rosh said quickly. “I’m thinking she might sign up, help out on the deck.”

  Dexter chuckled. “She’s a bit small for that.”

  “You ain’t felt her wrestle, she’s plenty strong enough,” he said.

  Dexter sighed and closed his eyes. He shook his head again and walked out. “Fine, but if she doesn’t start speaking civil and behaving, then we’re giving her to the void!”

  Rosh nodded, then turned back to her, a smile on his face. With Dexter out of the room he moved closer to her and knelt down. “Hear that? You start playing nice and we’ll let you out of them ropes. Then I’ll teach you a few things and in return you can-“

  Rosh stumbled backwards, barely avoiding her collapsing teeth as she somehow found a way to spring towards him. He picked himself up in a hurry and stared at her. She was still bound and still fighting the ropes. He had no idea how she had done it, but he shook his finger at her.

  “You just think about it,” he said, his voice less steady than he wanted. “We’ll talk later.”

  Rosh shut the door behind him and hurried back up to the main deck to get back to work. Once there he saw Dexter pointing for Jenna’s benefit. Following his stretched arm he saw what had the captain so excited: a ship. It was a scout ship, smaller than the Voidhawk, but it turned sharper, flew faster, and was usually designed for raiding or battle.

  The scout ship closed steadily with them and, when it was within a few thousand yards, two smaller shapes detached from it. They closed rapidly with the Voidhawk until they be seen to be small elven fighters, which were one man interceptors not so different from what Dexter had flown for the Federation. The scout ship had cut two holes into the hull of its cargo deck, allowing the fighters to exit and enter the ship.

  “Think they be wanting a word with us?” Kragor asked Dexter from the forecastle deck.

  Dexter shook his head. “A word’s not all they’re wanting.”

  “Dex, each of them’s got a light ballista,” Kragor said in a hushed but serious tone. “Not much damage to the ‘Hawk, but they can tear up her rigging good and you know what a bolt through the belly or chest’ll do to a man.”

  Dexter grunted and hurried across the deck. “Battle stations, do what you can to take those fighters out! Aim for the pilots, they’re not well protected.”

  “We ain’t got no ship weapons!” Rosh protested.

  Dexter swung around to face him, then saw Jenna coming up behind him with several pistols in hand. He pointed to her and said, “Do what you can with those.”

  Rosh turned around and saw Jenna finish loading a pistol. She handed it to him and then started in on another. Her face was set in a grim but otherwise expressionless mask. Rosh grunted and started helping her load the pile of them that lay on the deck from the small powder keg she had brought with her.

  Dexter told Kragor to help them, then went to the bridge to help Bekka pilot the ship. He knew she could handle it fine, but a serious jolt to the ship could knock her out and he knew they needed someone to be on hand at all times. That and he needed to be able to give her orders without any delay.

  A knock on the door behind him turned him around to see Jenna standing there, bristling with pistols. “Shouldn’t you be on deck?” Dexter asked her, already turning back to the multi-paned thick glass windows on the bridge.

  “Aye, but there’s something you should know,” Jenna said.

  Dexter looked at her again, biting off his comment that he felt she was a little late in sharing things that ‘he should know’.

  “Those aren’t regular fighters,” she said, drawing more of Dexter’s attention. “They’re fireflies.”

  Dexter blinked, the name having no meaning to him.

  Annoyed, Jenna persisted. “The elves load fighters full of oil, fire powder, and alchemist’s fire then crash them into the hulls of enemy ships!”

  Dexter’s eyes widened. He swore and turned back to the window. Sure enough, the fighters, or fireflies as Jenna had called this version, seemed interested in getting close to them, rather than in firing their light ballistae at them.

  “Bekka! Evasive action, don’t let them ram us!” Dexter demanded, then brushed past Jenna as he ran out of the bridge and up the staircase to the deck.

  “They mean to ram us!” Dexter yelled on the deck. “Fire everything you’ve got at those fighters!”

  He led by example, raising his pistol to the closest one and firing. The inertia in the void helped his shot stay true, though the great distance to it gave the pilot plenty of time to dodge had he been able to see the small bullet. Within moments other shot from the wheel lock pistols of the crew were chewing into the ship. The ones that hit the hull did little damage, though an occasional ball would strike one of the barrels of oil that was roped against the small deck, while many others chewed through the sails of the small elven craft.

  In a matter of a minute or less the pilot began to realize he needed to try and doge the small shot that was scouring his fighter. Every turn of his sails, however, caused more of them to rend and tear thanks to the growing number of holes in them. Shortly his maneuverability began to worsen. His
speed remained unchanged, thanks to the power of the tactical helm that provided movement for the small ship, but his ability to steer it suffered.

  The other fighter drew closer unmolested until the crew realized that it posed just as great a threat. The scout ship remained in the background, closing as well but at a slower rate. Jenna fired on it, while Rosh, Keshira, and Jodyne tended to the rigging to assist Bekka with the maneuvering of the ship. Thus far they continued to run straight out, lengthening the pursuit and giving the deckhands time to add their fire.

  Jenna’s fourth shot deflected off of a barrel of oil, cracking it and causing some to leak onto the decking. The leaking oil was not the success of the shot, however. Instead it was the deflected bullet that chewed into the leg of the ship’s helmsman that spoke of the success. The second elven firefly listed in space and changed course for well over a full minute, taking it on a path that sent it out and away from the Voidhawk. It swung back around to face them and began once again closing the distance.

  The first fighter was approached dangerously close, giving up any pretense of maneuverability and aiming straight for the Voidhawk’s hull. Jenna switched back over, concentrating all their firepower on the scarred ship. The ship’s pilot made a sudden dash from the partially concealed helm he sat in, leaping off over the edge of the ship and, miraculously, escaping injury from any of the pistols firing at him.

  “Bekka!” Dexter yelled down the stairway to the bridge. “Drop us down!”

  He turned to the others and shouted, “Roll the ship!”

  Dexter jumped to the sails, grabbing the closest one to aid in the maneuver. The others abandoned the pistols and followed suit, understanding the peril the Voidhawk faced. The ship pivoted along its axis, descending as it did so while the fighter rushed onwards towards them. They lost sight of it as the starboard side rose and blocked their view of it, then peered anxiously to the port while they continued to roll.

  They all felt the ship shudder and heard the creaking of timber when the firefly bumped into the bottom of the Voidhawk’s hull. Without exception, every one of them cringed and feared the worse, but no ensuing sounds of fire powder igniting followed. Instead they continued to roll and the bow continued to drop, or rise, now that the ship was inverted.

  Dexter glanced up away from the sails and saw that they were now bearing towards the scout ship, they had managed to change their course by 180 degrees. He cursed and yelled for his crew to stabilize the ship and get their bearings.

  “Where’s the other fighter?” Dexter called out, seeing the derelict ship that had rammed them floating in a straight line out of their air bubble and trailing some small debris made up of broken timber.

  “Captain!” Keshira called out cheerily. Dexter glanced at her, distracted even then in the heat of battle by the simple sensuality in that one word when spoken by her in excitement. He followed her arm and saw her pointing low over the port side of the ship.

  Dexter rushed over, seeing the other fighter approaching and the pilot of it tying off the sails while he limped about and made ready to abandon the ship. Dexter grabbed his pistol and rushed to fill it with powder. He rammed the wadding and then a lead ball down the barrel in what might have been record time for him. The hammer cocked, he took careful aim and waited while the elven pilot scrambled about near the helm. He emerged a moment later, limping heavily, and carrying a crate in both arms cradled to his chest. Dexter fired, already moving to reload his pistol as fast as he could.

  “Captain!”

  Dexter ignored Rosh’s concerned voice behind him as he struggled to ready his pistol in case the first shot missed. He did spare a glance at the fighter, and watched with growing satisfaction. The crate the pilot carried hit the deck and erupted, spewing alchemist’s fire onto the pilot, the deck of the ship and even the sails and rigging.

  “What, Rosh?” Dexter said, turning back to face him. He glanced up and felt his eyes widen. The scout ship seemed close enough to spit at. It was only a few hundred yards away from them, nearly in their atmospheric bubble.

  “Bring her around!” Dexter yelled, hurrying back to the sail he had manned to assist.

  Halfway through the maneuver the scout ship had also changed its pitch so that the heavy ballista on its hunched back weapon deck had been brought to bear on them. It fired, the heavy wooden spear leaping out at them and trailing a rope behind it. The heavy bolt thudded into the hull of the ship just below the railing, sending a shudder throughout the vessel and making Dexter and Kragor both cringe at the sound of good timber being sundered.

  The heavy rope stayed loose, however, but the scout ship quickly closed and the atmospheres from the two ships joined. Rosh drew his sword and ran towards the rope, only to have Kragor yell for him to get back to his station at the main mast.

  Dexter nodded, cutting the rope would do no good, the scout ship was faster and more maneuverable, it was better to be boarded early on than to let it take more shots at them with its ballista. “Prepare for boarding!” Dexter yelled, finishing up the job of reloading his pistol and then holstering it.

  Dexter’s only source for hope or pride at the moment was the flaming elven fighter that was sailing through space away from them. Soundlessly, thanks to the void between ships, he watched it shudder and break apart as one after another of the kegs of powder aboard it ignited and exploded.

  Three more lines sailed through space and landed on the Voidhawk, a grappling hook attached to the end of each. Two of them caught fast while the third pulled free of the deck. Two of them, plus the ballista bolt impaling the ‘Hawk amidships, were more than enough to cinch the two vessels together. In minutes that passed like seconds, elves were leaping from the elevated position of the scout ship’s hull and down onto the Voidhawk, swords and pistols drawn.

  The crew of the Voidhawk met them. Jodyne’s daggers flew true, striking elves before they closed, while other fired pistols or swung their weapons. A smaller ship by nearly half the tonnage, the scout ship nevertheless carried a superior number of crew to the ‘Hawk’s seven, of which only six were actively defending the ship.

  The fighting was vicious and merciless, with the elves relying upon speed and grace to help them defeat the slower but often stronger defenders. Keshira crashed through them, sacrificing defense for her formidable offense. She was cut in many places, but the wounds were minor. The wounds she inflicted, however, were crushing injuries that left her victims incapacitated or worse.

  Rosh likewise used his strength to his advantage. His great sword easily overpowered the elven parries. The giant of a man ignored the few scratches he received and even the bruise of a pistol bullet that hit him square in his mail covered ribs.

  Kragor fought near his wife, beating back those that came near to them and allowing her to continue to throw whatever object she picked up. She quickly ran out of daggers, and scrambled to grab whatever she could to turn it into a missile weapon, from dropped weapons to a dismembered hand to belaying pins pulled from the rigging. Her accuracy was alarming regardless of the object she chose to make a weapon of.

  Jenna alone fought like the elves did, her body flowing and gliding across the deck as she danced among them. The elves found her difficult to contain, and many were injured or killed as she came up against them.

  The crew of the Voidhawk, from captain to deckhand, fought admirably. Each was wounded multiple times, yet they fought on and repelled the attackers successfully. Soon only 3 elves remained, and they were backed up on the stern castle of the ship with nowhere to run. The scout ship was not close enough to jump to, nor were any of the ropes bridging them readily at hand.

  “Surrender!” Dexter demanded, wiping away blood from a shallow cut above his eye.

  One of the ropes connecting the ships fell away, cut from the scout ship by someone still aboard. Dexter gestured with his head and said, “Keshira, be a dear and stop whoever’s doing that from cutting the scout ship loose.”

  In a flash she was gone, r
unning to one of the remaining ropes and leaping from the deck of the Voidhawk halfway up it before grabbing on and hauling herself up onto the deck of the scout ship. Unable to see her progress they continued to hold the surrounded elves hostage and waited for the outcome of the reverse raiding party of one.

  They heard a few yells, and a shot from a pistol as well. A short sword clattered to the deck of the Voidhawk a moment later, and shortly after the body of an elf crumbled to it. The elf groaned and raised himself up, one arm clearly broken and blood running from his nose.

  Jenna laughed a moment later, recognizing the wounded elf as Duballin. He spat out some blood and then tried to scramble away when Keshira landed gracefully on the deck behind him. Dexter chuckled a little as well, seeing the tables turned, then his laugh died when he saw Keshira.

  Her baggy clothing had been hanging with many cuts and tears in it from the fight already, but now it was even worse. It scarcely offered any modesty, though she seemed unconcerned about it. More importantly than the ruined clothing was the long sword that was sticking through her side.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” Rosh could not stop himself from asking.

  Keshira glanced down at it then up at Dexter and Rosh. “Yes,” she said. “It does.”

  “Gods, woman, take it out!”

  “No!” Jenna said, countering Rosh’s suggestion. “If you remove it you might bleed out. We need Bekka to have a look at it.”

  Keshira nodded. “I will survive.”

  Dexter glanced at her again, then back to Duballin. “I’m not for knowing much about elves,” he said, walking closer to him and relying upon his men to keep the other elves from doing anything.