Charley felt a little better with that, but the gallantry didn’t sound right coming from Vinnie’s mouth.
26
It was the first time he’d ever used her name. It gave her a weird thrill, no matter how many times she told herself he was a grumpy, taciturn loser.
Vin surged toward the toxic plume, his jetpack flaring white and blue with bursts of power. And then he was through, his body indistinct through the haze. Charley waited until she couldn’t see him anymore before setting off. She let go of the pole reluctantly, steadily building speed. By the time she hit the plume she was flying. She didn’t dare slow her mind to rational thought as she hurtled through the kaleidoscopic nightmare. There were drifing corpses in that cloud, people asphyxiated by their fall from the freighter. Charley tried not to dwell on their presence as she made for the far side of the plume.
Charley said in a flat tone, put out by his use of the word ‘I’. Seems like he really did want to go his own way after this operation was over.
Charley followed Vinnie to the rear of the craft where he found a rectangular panel under the fuel cell array. Sliding the panel open revealed a keypad. Vinnie placed a small cylindrical device above the keypad. It began scrolling through reams of data on its digital readout.
Vin explained.
Charley held her tongue. Vinnie was clearly skilled in areas that could really help her new Pirate Guild. If only he wanted to join.
He watched the unscrambler as it revealed the hatch code number by number. In normal circumstances the scout would’ve registered a breach of security to the mother freighter and a team of mercs would be inbound to cut Vinnie down. Out here in the middle of a toxic debris field the cheap security system wasn’t going to stop them from commandeering the vessel.
The keypad glowed green. Vinnie pointed to the roof and they climbed up a service ladder. The top hatch was invitingly open. Vinnie climbed through and lifted Charley down. He closed the hatch and they both removed their helmets. Vinnie looked at Charley with pure joy. Right then he looked like a kid in a candy store. Caught up in the moment, he planted a hard kiss firmly on Charley’s lips. It was an innocent kiss, one of relief more than anything else, so Charley knew she didn’t need to respond. But the truth was she wanted to. She wondered what Vinnie would think if she did. Letting the moment pass, she let Vinnie have his moment of victory and sat beside him at the dashboard.
“These lasers might be fucking lame,” he observed, “but we blast our way out with them.”
Charley grinned as Vinnie blasted away a thick hull sheet for kicks. He accelerated slowly, weaving in between pieces of gnarled junk and staying away from the toxic plumes. On more than one occasion he blasted a chemical drum out of the way. The scout responded well to Vinnie’s movements. It was a fluid and agile ship. If Vinnie could kit it out with weapons, Charley could see that it would be a handy vessel to travel in.
The scout emerged from the debris field in under ten minutes. It was such a luxury to leave in the vessel rather than jetpacking their way back through the hazardous field.
“How much air did we have in these suits?” Charley asked.
Vinnie grinned. “If we couldn’t break in to this thing, we’d be in serious trouble, darlin’.”
Charley didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed. “You’re a confident man, aren’t you?”
Vinnie snorted. “Look at my old man. It runs in the genes.”
Charley had to agree there. She settled back in her chair as Vin plotted a course for Danderly’s northern hemisphere.
A ping resonated from the ship’s nav system. Charley immediately had a bad feeling.
“What is it?” she demanded.
“Bandit vessel, inbound at 453-95. Fucking Night Runners.”
Cold fear grasped at Charley’s throat. Instinctively she drew her blasters.
“Think we’re gonna need these,” she said.
Vinnie nodded in agreement. “They would’ve been watching us. Waiting on the edge like fucking hyenas. They’ll be looking to board and claim this ship as their own. They know there’s only two of us.”
“And two blasters,” Charley added, trying to make light of the situation. She was immensely glad she brought her pirate gear. She lined up a series of colored pellets on the dashboard.
“Are those Silverton’s?” Vin said, his eyes lighting up. “You really are old-school.”
“I got a plan, too,” Charley said. “It’s a long shot, but you only live once, eh?”
Vinnie looked Charley in the eye. She felt as though he was truly seeing her for the first time. “Now you’re beginning to talk like him too,” he said softly.
“Not just a pretty face?” Charley asked, feeling a new tension between the two of them. It was a feeling she liked, and hoped to cultivate further if they ever got out of this mess.
“Listen,” she said. “I don’t know much, but I do know that a pirate never surrenders.”
“Damn straight,” Vinnie said, sneering at the thought.
“So we need to blow this scout up ourselves,” Charley said. “Two of these incendiary pellets should do it.”
Vinnie looked at her with wide, incredulous eyes. “After everything we did to net this thing? Are you fucking crazy?”
“Maybe a little,” Charley admitted. “How many bandits you think are on that ship?”
Vinnie consulted the nav projection. The bandit vessel was a modified heavy fighter, called an Armadillo across most of the galaxy. It had all the brute firepower a military fighter did, but two extra storage bays down back for loot. It scored highly on most counts, being tough, agile, powerful and loot-capable. The only things it lacked was genuine speed and enough bulk to allow for proper combat shields. Still, it was a formidable proposition and way beyond the modest fighting abilities of the scout.
“There wouldn’t be any less than five men on that ship,” Vinnie said. “They’re confident they can subdue us and be on their way in no time. Fucking Night Runners are getting too cocky.”
“Let them,” Charley said firmly. She was beginning to feel her fear melt away. It was replaced by anger. Anger that most people in the galaxy, including her, had to grind for survival all their lives. So much hard work to get just one opportunity. And yet there was always someone standing ready to take that opportunity away. Fuck that. She wasn’t gonna let these bastards win. They’d been winning for too long. It was time for someone to break the cycle. It was time for someone new.
“Put your fucking helmet on,” she said to Vinnie, as she put her own on. He looked at her blankly, then did as he was told.
nes, and flung them against the scout’s aft bulkhead. Three together was enough to trigger a solid detonation that stripped metal and maybe even cracked the hull. Charley grinned in satisfaction. These pellets were extremely powerful. Silverton must’ve paid top dollar for those little beauties.
And with that she tossed another three red pellets against the aft bulkhead. This time the hull was perforated in several places. Charley and Vin were forced to grab hold of the cabin rail as air was sucked through into space. Charley opened the hatch for good measure. The dashboard came alive with a litany of warning signals.
Charley positioned herself in the corner of the cabin, gesturing for Vinnie to lie on top of her.
Vinnie stood a moment, watching the Armadillo creep closer on the nav projection. Charley could see that he felt cornered, like a rat in a trap.
Without another word he settled himself on top of her, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Charley smiled as she felt his heavy muscled frame rub against her. Sometimes even the craziest plans had their compensations.
The scout lurched as the Armadillo drew alongside it. Charley and Vinnie waited as they heard the sound of a hatch opening and footsteps on the roof. Charley rolled a grey pellet across the floor where it dinged against the far wall. Smoke began to fill the cabin.
Vinnie said. He was finally beginning to see what Charley had planned. He hooked his hands into the storage handles on the wall, anchoring himself across Charley so they didn’t float away in the zero gravity.
Charley got a thrill from Vinnie’s hot breath on her neck. She wished they were together on the ground for altogether different reasons. She realized she was attracted to this man, for all his many faults. He was rude, selfish and unkind. But he was also unbelievably sexy. Charley felt her body coursing with adrenalin just from being close to him.
A noise at the top hatch drew her attention. Through the thick smoke she saw the muzzle of a high powered shotgun, then a thick-set man in an armored air suit. Damn - this was gonna be harder than she first thought.
The first man climbed down into the cabin. He was followed by three others, but none of these had an armored air suit.
Charley’s heart almost stopped when a searcher’s boot nudged Vin’s limp leg. The ex-pirate had the good sense to play dead, his entire body weight pressed against Charley.
came a second voice.
Charley could now see three figures hovering in zero gravity over Vin’s body.
Helmets cracked, shattered and filled with blood as Charley fired from point blank range. The three figures were strafed with magenta plasma bolts and were thrown back against the far wall to float like rag dolls. Charley realized she was still howling like a banshee when Vin gripped her arms.
A shotgun blast ripped shreds into the bulkhead where they’d been lying only moments before. The armored bandit was still at large in the very small cabin. Vinnie kept them both moving, practically throwing Charley across the room and into the armored bandit. Whilst the impact nearly broke Charley’s arm, it disrupted the man’s aim and his third shot thudded into the ceiling.
On impulse Charley threw a purple pellet at the armored man. It attached to his left torso and stayed there. A small limpet mine!
Charley couldn’t help but grin as she focused on the Armadillo now towing the scout at cruise speed.
Charley looked at Vinnie. The pilot of that craft, referred to by the armored bandit as ‘Fletch’, may not be aware that his comrades were dead. And the air suits they were wearing were roughly the same color as those the fallen bandits had worn. Well, enough for a pilot looking distractedly at the rear viewscreen to activate the airlock for them.
And so it proved. Pulling hand over hand, Charley followed Vinnie across the tow line and onto the Armadillo’s roof. Unlike the scout, this vessel had a separate airlock. Charley breathed a sigh of relief when the outer hatch slid open to admit them. Vinnie dropped through first and lifted Charley down. Through the inner airlock door, which was closed, they saw the pilot sitting in the cockpit.
Feeling giddy with opportunity, as if this moment had been pre-destined, Charley strolled up behind the pilot as she pulled her helmet off and pressed a blaster against the back of his head.
“Stand up,” she said in a voice dripping with menace. She was surprised at how easily it came to her.
The pilot froze and took a moment to understand the situation. Realizing that any sudden movement would result in his death, he stood with his hands clasped behind his head.
“Over to the port bulkhead,” Charley spat. Vinnie stood at her shoulder, watching with interest.
“Thanks for sparing me,” the bandit said. “I only just joined and haven’t killed anyone.”
It occurred to Charley that the Night Runners were so entrenched now, so powerful, that their very presence caused their victims to surrender. This was why they were recruiting young men who had yet to see any real action. A glance at Vinnie confirmed that he was thinking the same thing.
It made her sick. It meant that the Night Runners no longer had any competition. That the golden age of pirates was officially over.
She regarded the young man intently. He’d made a very bad life choice - the Night Runners prided themselves on their brutality, even if his claim of innocence was true. For that, he needed to
pay. It was less about him and more about making a statement - cross the pirates at your own peril. It was time to even the scales.
Charley squeezed the trigger and forced herself to watch the bandit’s brains splatter across the bulkhead. She made a silent pledge to always look her victims in the eye, determined to never become numb to taking lives.
Vinnie looked at Charley in astonishment. “Did you change your mind?”
“No,” Charley said with a grin. “I just didn’t want brains on my new dashboard.”
“Our new dashboard,” Vin said, squeezing past her and sliding into the pilot’s chair. “Even though you destroyed the scout, I have to admit you won the day, Silverton.”
Charley smiled, enjoying the sound of that name. It made her feel like she belonged. She wondered if Vinnie knew that she wasn’t actually Silverton’s daughter. It wouldn’t hurt for him to believe it.
27
“What happens now?” Charley asked.
Vinnie sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose. “Now? Now we go and see the Guildmasters in Galveston. We register our kill and take ownership of the Armadillo.”
“And then?” Charley prompted, wondering what would happen to their ship. Their ship. After the adrenalin of the battle Charley couldn’t believe she actually half-owned a ship. A fighter, no less!
Vin shrugged. “Then we consider the fact that every Night Runner from here to Bonesse will be after us. No one has challenged that Guild for years.”
Charley looked at Vinnie defiantly. “I have no problem with that.”
The hint of a smile played on Vinnie’s lips. Charley got the impression that he wasn’t too upset at all. That he welcomed the recent violence and was elated to score a genuine fighting ship. Perhaps it had stoked fires that he thought were dead?
“It needs a coat of paint,” he said teasingly, looking at the galley and the living quarters.
Charley felt a flush of excitement. “Does that mean you don’t want to sell it?”
Vinnie looked into Charley’s eyes. “I’ll let you choose the colors,” he said sexily. “Choose well, cos it’ll be the colors we wear with pride.”
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