“What?! You listen here, you—”
“You listen, Captain, very carefully.” Jacob paused as the pirate’s flow of words cut off, making sure the other man was ready. “I don’t need you to let us aboard Reefhome Station. We have plenty of personnel we could use to take it from you, but I suspect that any moment now, the people on that station are going to realize the fleet you’ve been using to keep them in line is gone.” He stopped again, letting those words sink in. “If there are so few of you that you could all fit onboard the Ire, I’m betting there aren’t enough to stand against them when they come after you with plasma cutters and rivet guns. You’re running low on time, Captain.”
“We’ve got hostages! They won’t come after us and you won’t either!” The pirate’s words were edged with far less threat now, and far more desperation. Jacob let a thin sliver of satisfaction worm its way into his tone before he continued.
“Captain, I want to be very clear on something. If I see one man, woman or child floating away from any airlock on Reefhome Station, I’m going to execute every pirate onboard that station. Every. Single. One.” His tone grew even colder. “Then I will find out where your families are living and I will go after them. I will hunt everyone you love, and everyone you care for, until the remnant begs me to stop. One body, Captain. That’s all I need to see. Am I clear?”
There was a long pause, and finally Swenson’s voice came back, shaking slightly as he spoke. “Yes, sir. We surrender, sir. We surrender.”
“Good. Lay down arms and lock yourselves into whatever room down there you can find. Tell the station leaders they can contact me whenever they are ready. Ensign Hull, out.” He nodded to the petty officer in the communications station, but the light stayed on. The man was staring at him, his mouth wide open, and Jacob had to give him a second, more exaggerated nod before he jumped, seemingly startled, and touched a button. The light switched off, and Jacob relaxed. That felt good. He looked around and saw Singh was also staring at him, along with the crewmen who were guarding the door. Even Al-shira, who was still standing in the doorway with blood running down the side of her face, was staring at him as if he had grown a second head.
“What?”
The question seemed to set them in motion again. Singh turned back to his console, as did the Communications officer. The crewmen snapped back to attention, as if their focus had never left the elevator leading to the antechamber. Only Al-shira remained, her gaze still on him in spite of his orders. With a sigh, he unstrapped himself and waved to the petty officer at the helm. “The ship is yours. Keep us in a holding pattern, and let me know if anything changes. Communications, send any continuing damage reports and signals to my reader. I’m escorting Ensign Al-shira to Medical, and then I’m going to get a look at the Capistan.” He walked over to where she waited and lowered his voice. “You need somebody to lean on, Al-shira?”
She rolled her eyes and started to walk for the elevator. “I should be all right, Ensign.” Her sarcasm was slightly ruined by a wobble in her step as the doors opened. “You coming?”
Part Three
Chapter Seventeen
When they arrived at Medical, the area was in chaos. The three crew members who made up the medical personnel ran from one casualty to another, barely able to stabilize one patient before moving on to the next critical case. Groans and sobs of pain made a hellish chorus that greeted them as soon as the doors slid open, and for a moment, both of them were stunned by the sight of so many lying wounded, or worse, dead.
Jacob felt a wave of frustration sweep over him as he watched the medics go about their work. All of this was my doing. He motioned to one of the nearby medics, and one of them came over to check on Al-shira. After a quick examination of her wound, the medic showed Al-shira to a spot on the floor where she could lie down. The Communications officer allowed herself to be escorted away grudgingly, leaving Jacob alone amidst the chaos.
Ensign Mensah caught sight of him and waved him over. Grateful for the distraction from his growing sense of helplessness, Jacob jogged to where the medic was standing, and then stopped short when he saw who was lying on the cot next to him. “Ensign Navaja?”
“Yes. We found him with most of the rest of the riftjump crew.” The medic winced. “The area looked pretty bad from what I could see. The other two crewmen didn’t make it back to Medical, and Navaja is just barely holding on.”
Jacob looked down in horror at the wounded man. Navaja's uniform had been charred from an explosion, and he had several burns and wounds from shrapnel. Some of the deeper burns and wounds had a green, bioluminescent substance slathered over it, as if to hide the extent of the injuries. Navaja’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was ragged.
“Is he going to make it?”
Mensah shrugged, scrubbing one hand back through his short hair. “I don’t know. It’s risky.” He glanced around at the rest of the casualties before continuing. “I think we are looking at around thirty people down, most of them from the group of Support personnel at the port airlock. Of those, we have around fourteen wounded. The rest were dead before we got there.”
The words were sobering, and Jacob leaned back slightly as he went over the numbers. Between that and the rest of our losses, we’re down nearly a quarter of the crew. He shook his head and looked around the cramped medical room, watching the other two medics move from wounded to wounded. “Is there anything I can do?”
Mensa shook his head. “No, you’ll just get in the way here. Just try and make sure we aren’t going to get hit again any time soon. We don’t have much more room for people down here.” The strain in the medic’s voice was obvious, and Jacob nodded before retreating to the hallway.
As the door slid closed, Jacob simply stood still for a moment. In the quiet of the corridor, he could still hear the faint murmur of the patients’ groans and the muffled speech of the frantic medics. The excitement of the victory quickly drained away under the pain of their losses. Sixteen more dead. At least. Sixteen more won’t be going home. A chirp alerted him to a message arriving on his reader, but it was a long moment before he began to walk away from the door.
“Everything down here is a damn mess, that’s how we’re doing!” Turley was nursing a wound in his left arm, which showed slightly through the charred hole in his coveralls. The Engineering section had mostly avoided damage, but Turley had managed to be near the Capistan when the riftjump crew had been hit. Fortunately, the engineer was still more than alive, but Jacob was having a hard time feeling enthusiastic about anything after what he had seen in Medical.
Shaking off his melancholy, he focused again on the situation at hand. “How much damage are we talking about, Turley? Do we have to abandon ship?”
The engineer looked at him as if he had gone insane. “Where the hell did you get that idea? I just said it was a mess, not a graveyard.” He straightened his overalls with one hand and looked sharply at a crewman who was hurrying by with his arms full of tools. “Don’t drop that, you bastard, or I’ll skin you alive!”
The crewman jumped and glared at Turley before running off down the corridor. Jacob cleared his throat, and the surly engineer’s gaze swept back to him.
“The damage?”
Turley grunted. “The Capistan’s a loss. We won’t be jumping anywhere without a major refit. I hope this Reefhome place has plenty of quantum physics majors as well, because Navaja and his bunch were the only pinheads who could make it run for us.” At the mention of Navaja, Jacob winced and nodded. Turley continued in the same, grumbling tone.
“Port airlock’s just going to have to be sealed off. That entire corridor was hit too hard to fix without a dock and some structural work. We were lucky on one of the other hits, though. Came through the armor right where the officer’s mess used to be. Not much more damage they could do, there, but that’s another hole you’ll have to watch. Lost most of the food supplies, and a few of the storage bays are now just full of shrapnel and shattered damn drea
ms. Anything else you’d like to ask, Hull?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, not unless there is something we are in danger from. As long as those areas are sealed off, and you’re sure we can keep fighting, that’s all I need to know.”
As Jacob turned to go, Turley laid a quick hand on his shoulder. “You know we can’t keep going like this, right? We’re going to get blown to hell and back if we get in another heavy fight like what went on here.” The engineer’s voice, while uncompromisingly gruff, still had a hint of uncertainty Jacob had never heard before.
Maybe they just think I’ve gone crazy. Have I? For a moment Jacob debated how to respond, and then let out a small sigh. “I know, Turley.” He grinned a little and bowed his head. “We’ll have to see if the Station has anything that could help us. After all, we did just free them from the pirates.” Jacob glanced at the engineer and smiled. “Don’t worry, we should almost be home. Even if they can’t get a Capistan for us, they should at least have signal drones for Celostian space. We can signal the fleet and they’ll come for us.”
Uncertainty and relief warred for prominence on Turley’s face, and the engineer glanced down awkwardly. “So that’s it, then. A message home, and life is back to normal, eh?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” Jacob motioned to the circuits humming around them. “Just keep Wolfhound together for a little while longer, and we’ll be home.” He tried to put a bit more enthusiasm in his voice than he actually felt, and tried to keep a small grin plastered on his face as he walked back up the corridor to the access ladder.
He started up it, and paused when he saw one of the engineers climbing down it. Strange. They usually use the elevators. He shook his head and started up once the way was clear and managed to make it up to the next deck. There, he found Ashford waiting for him, arms crossed over his chest. Jacob sighed and stepped out of the access hatch, nodding to the Marine tiredly. “Did they get ahold of Chiun?”
Ashford nodded, and they began to walk back towards the bridge together. “Yeah. She has the frigate secured. We took a couple of casualties, but they managed to overwhelm most of the crew onboard, and the fact that we had combat armor, plasma cutters and fragmentation grenades means most of ours are flesh wounds. Turns out part of the crew was still on the station, including the captain, so that helped too.”
Jacob nodded. “She still disobeyed orders, though. She’ll get a commendation for bravery, her and Iriel both, but you need to think up an appropriate disciplinary action as well.” He gave the sergeant a faint smile. “Try to have it be something that won’t have the Marines ready to beat me with my own arm, alright?”
Uncharacteristically, Ashford cracked a smile. “Yes, sir.” The frown abruptly came back, along with a confused grimace that only strengthened Jacob’s grin. Ha. Called me sir, you stubborn jerk. The Marine sergeant continued, his voice a bit less cheerful now, almost as if he were struggling to be extra stern to cover his slip.
“The leaders on the station would like to speak with you face to face. They sound a bit wary, but that’s to be expected. We do have a whole fleet parked outside their little frontier spacer’s crime den.” Ashford paused as if to see Jacob’s reaction to the indirect insult, but Jacob was far too tired to care. Maybe later. Ashford's frown deepened as he continued.
“We need to figure out a way to hold the prisoners we’ve taken, as well as the ships we have parked around the station. Do you have any ideas what to do with the pirates?”
Jacob shrugged, his mind still far too caught up in the sight of the wounded and the mangled wreckage of the Capistan to bother with prisoners. “We can’t keep them on the Wolfhound, and I would prefer not to give them the chance to run in the Ire. The Ravager is another bad choice. Maybe the station?”
Ashford nodded. “If they’ll take them. Do you want me to come with you? You might want to be careful over there. We can’t be sure how many of these spacers were working with the pirates.”
“Sure, you can come along. Get Taylor to come with us. Has Iriel already come back with the skiff?” The sergeant nodded and Jacob paused to lean against the wall. Suddenly, the exhaustion of the battle, the emotional wear and tear of the casualties and the relief of a victory, however costly, crashed in on him. He felt dizzy for a moment, and it felt like the wall was the only thing holding him up.
“Jacob? Jacob, are you alright?” Ashford’s voice was actually tinged with concern, something that would have astonished Jacob if he had the energy to concentrate on it. He pushed away from the wall, forcing his legs to keep him upright.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Go get Taylor and we’ll head to the station. I’ll get to the hangar and wait for you there.”
Ashford’s face hardened. “The hell I will.”
Surprised, Jacob looked up at him. He could sense the nearby crewmen pausing to get an earful, and when he spoke, he could hear coldness in his own voice. “Ashford, I don’t have the time or the energy for this right now.”
“Exactly!” The Marine leaned in close, his tone unflinching. “If you barely have the energy to deal with me, then you damned well aren’t ready to deal with a bunch of spacers. You’re going to help us recover from the fight, then get a little rest. Then, when Iriel’s rested and Chiun’s back, you, me, Taylor and a Marine escort all take a trip to Reefhome together.”
Jacob started to respond, but Ashford held up a hand to cut him off. “Not 'cause you’re an ensign, not 'cause you can’t do it. It’s 'cause you’ve been through a battle and doing it any other way would be stupid.” The Marine paused. “And if I have to get Al-shira, Laurie, and Isaac together to beat that through your thick damn skull, I will. Understand?”
For a moment, Jacob just stared at Ashford. He knew he should have felt some kind of resentment or outrage at being lectured, but he couldn’t manage to dredge any up. Resignation filled him as he realized that the Marine was right; he was in no shape to bicker with the station officials. “You’re right. I’ll be down in my quarters if you need me.”
The Marine nodded. “About that. I took the liberty of moving your things into the commander’s room. Old Rodgers’d think it was the least he could do after you just beat the hell out of those pirates.” As if sensing the spark of objection rising in Jacob, Ashford gave him a level look. “Besides, it’s closer to the bridge, and you’ll get the peace and quiet you need. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Before Jacob could protest, Ashford spun and walked away. He got halfway down the hallway before he caught a crewman gawking at them. Ashford spitted him with a glare. “What the hell are you looking at?” The crewman gave a strangled yelp and half-ran down the corridor and out of sight.
Jacob watched Ashford stalk after the fleeing crewman, feeling the mixture of confusion, weariness, satisfaction and relief roll around in his head. Then, with a shake of his head and a sigh, he made his way to where the commander’s quarters were. I might as well get some rest after all. An hour’s nap never hurt anybody.
Eight hours later, Jacob was on his way to the hangar bay. He felt a little sheepish at having slept so long, but his mind felt clear for the first time in days. The fact that the commander’s quarters were incredibly quiet had helped him rest far better than he had expected, and he wondered how he had made it this far without a good night’s sleep. A hurried meal and a shower later, he felt ready to take on anything.
Climbing down two decks through the access ladders, Jacob found himself in the corridor that led to the hanger bay. He walked down the corridor, and turned through the hatch to find Iriel just barely leaving the skiff. The Skiff officer had been busy for the past couple of hours, ferrying the Marines and crew back and forth. Though it was probably futile, Jacob hoped she had found the time to rest as well. When the hatch opened, he could see her hair matted down with sweat and her eyes showing signs of fatigue. He waved to her and she sat down on the deck and waved back merrily.
“Nice flying!” He forced a tired sort of cheer into his voice, and she smi
led back at him.
“We wouldn’t have made it if you guys hadn’t been covering us.” She hesitated. “You aren’t mad, are you? I know you wanted us to hit one of the corvettes, but Chiun said—”
“That’s going to be something you’ll have to talk with Ashford about, Iriel.” Her face fell slightly. Jacob shook his head and smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about it, though. After what you managed to do, I doubt we will be too hard on you.” She nodded, her glum expression lightening slightly.
He heard footsteps in the corridor behind him and nodded to himself. Turning, he found a tired-looking Taylor and Ashford coming down the corridor towards him, accompanied by a pair of Marines who had to have just returned with the skiff. Jacob glanced back at Iriel and gave her a smile. “All right, just fly us over to the station, and then you can get a rest. Just take it nice and slow. There’s no need to be dodging railgun fire this time.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted wearily and clambered back inside the skiff. He followed her, with the others on his heels.
Chapter Eighteen
Reefhome Station looked much the same as Jacob remembered it. The station itself was a simple, spinning disk with a central column extending below and above the structure. It was several times larger than any spaceship Jacob had ever seen, and it was sheathed in a layer of thick, pock-marked armor meant to deflect accidental collisions by asteroids or poorly piloted spacecraft. Scorch marks and dents marked where the plates of protective alloys had succeeded in doing just that.
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