by Chris Hechtl
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled as she pulled out a tablet and got to work with shaking hands.
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Admiral Ishmael watched the video feeds of the engagement. It was indeed short, and his people said it hadn't been tampered with. The cruiser was definitely not one of theirs; he could tell just from her unpainted exterior.
He stroked his chin and goatee pensively as he watched the video of the destruction of the Cutlass class destroyer a third time. To think it could happen that quickly … and the missiles they had used to pull it off! No simple nuclear weapons those, nor grasers... … he didn't like it. Nor did he like how well the enemy ship had adapted to the ship's ECM and fire. It was as if they had their playbook, which didn't bode well for him and his people.
Most likely they had seen the playbook, he thought as he pictured the events around Rho. If this Federation had captured enough pirates, they could copy the ECM and files. Encryption keys … all of it, he thought. Their decoys would be useless, their fire ineffective … and they obviously didn't labor under any ammunition constraints.
“Too long, too long we've been complacent, me hearties,” he murmured.
“He still got his ass kicked by one bloody ship!” Captain Baker snarled.
“Me thinks it would have been worse for one of us,” the admiral rumbled. That cut the Neochimp off. He turned to look at the admiral. “Aye, tis true I feel in my gut they be tougher than we thought, possibly true Federation ships,” he growled.
“What do we do about them, Admiral?” the Neochimp asked.
“We pass on word and get this in the hands of our tactical people of course,” the pirate lord ordered, slipping out of his pirate persona for the moment as professionalism took over.
“Aye aye, sir.”
Chapter 21
Tortuga
Captain Layafette visited the other two ships and warned them of the pirate structure. The reactions from the officers ranged from dumbfounded to horrified at the situation they'd found themselves in. “We're in a crack. We need to be careful lest they find us out. If they do, we're dead,” the captain warned, making certain to drive the point home by staring at each officer in turn.
“If they find out what is going on, how we are exterminating all species, we'll be in serious trouble. So keep your mouths shut,” he warned sternly, checking each of them over for commitment. “If any of you or any of your crew can't handle it, keep them on board. I've seen some of this base; it is crawling with Neos and other species. Taurens are here too but not many. Check your databases. We need to filter everything we send to them. Video too. When in doubt, censor it. Stall if they ask.”
“What about mail?” Captain Samoyd Chen of Seydlitz asked.
“We don't have much. I'm having my people go through it. If anyone asks, tell them we lost it. The original letters were destroyed by an electrical surge, something like that. Come up with a story, put it in the computer and then rehearse it if you have to. But don't let it get too pat,” he warned.
Captain Chen nodded. He didn't have much choice, Fernando thought to himself as he observed the other captain's reaction.
On his way back to the ship, the captain noted a few apes and others aiding in the unloading of 8116. He did his best to not react in an abnormal fashion to their presence. He was going to have to retrain himself he thought. The same for his people he reminded himself. They had managed to blend in to some of the planets they'd visited. It would be like that he thought.
For his part the more exposure he had the more he would think of the Tau pirates as people and not instantly reject them. That would be good for survival … but was a 2-edged sword he knew. Eventually, when the mission was complete they'd have to turn the plague on the pirates as well.
He was already starting to think of them as pirates and not fellow Horathians. That was troubling to some degree he thought. He'd have to check himself, remind himself to blend in.
The following morning, he took a walk around the base to familiarize himself with it. It was an educational experience. Most of the interior of the hollowed-out asteroid was the typical hodgepodge of stuff he'd expected from the Gather Fleet. They usually built organically, never really following a blueprint and only doing the minimum needed to keep a place together. They were too interested in partying and such than in deep work he thought.
Some parts and sections of the base were made out of derelict starships. They had just cut them out of the hulls of the old ships, some had pieces of hull still attached, then tacked and welded them in place. An entire section across the cavern where his ship was docked was like that. It looked like some leprous metal mushroom that had grown on the other side of the asteroid.
Some areas have gravity emitters, some are null-g. Some had regular walls; others have rock or a mix of both. Some of the ceilings were barely standard height; others towered ten or meters high. They not only had the excess life support to keep the air good, but they had the extra power to keep it all from getting cold and dark.
Of course, tying together several fusion reactors ripped out of derelict ships or bases might explain the last part. The air … again, they tore the scrubbers and such out of derelict ships. There were enough parts to go around.
The interior of the bases was like any pirate den he'd heard of. This was his first to visit in person; he'd only heard tales and seen some videos. Many places within were dark; just about every corridor had a bar. Brothels, casinos, hotels, gaming rooms, trading posts, small businesses, and restaurants were everywhere. There was also a market where the ships rented stall space and sold off their cargo, including slaves. He shook his head when he passed a slave market. There were some pretty sorry people there, most of them females, though there were a few marked as having skills of one sort or another. Some of the personnel in the base came unwillingly obviously, which caused all sorts of security concerns in him. Some of the permanent residents were cast-off slaves he found out when he stopped for lunch and bought a burrito from a relatively clean and popular restaurant. He did his best not to wonder where the meat had come from as he chewed and swallowed mechanically.
There were shore police to break up the frequent brawls. No one was allowed to kill another outside something called the dome. If they did, they were severely punished, sometimes even spaced. That must be hell on keeping good help, Fernando thought as he sipped his drink. No wonder they needed to recruit or bring in indentured replacements, he thought. He wondered about their level of training on the ships, their readiness, and what sort of skills their crews had.
From the sound of the conversations around him, a few of the sailors who tried their luck on the ships but then couldn't hack it stayed in the base as an outfitter, gopher, or support personnel. Some were people who'd been injured in a mission. They were paid off and then left on the base to make their own way. Some had the credits to buy crude prosthetics, but others were out of luck.
He realized that some of the support personnel were spouses of sailors. Some were children or grandchildren of them. He snorted when he overheard a few of the pirates had a spouse and family in each port.
From a few of the couples he observed, he realized a few of the matings were not consensual initially. Some of the pirate clans practiced kidnapping and raping as a form of wooing. They even did it to their own from time to time, but that could occasionally spark a clan war if it was handled badly.
He paused when he noticed a familiar human female walking the other side of the concourse. He stopped then stepped to the side as Commander Misaki walked by, checking out the wares from the vendors. She spotted a kid working as a pickpocket and gave him a glare to warn him off. The kid realized he'd been spotted and took off along with his cohorts. The fast movement brought them to the attention of a wandering patrolman who pointed a nightstick at them and gave chase.
No honor among thieves indeed, Fernando thought as he lost Siri in the crowd. He turned back to his own table.
He paused to
dip his burrito into some hot sauce as he listened to the couple behind him. Apparently, the pirates knew a few routes that they kept secret or bartered between each other. Also, due to the long transit times, they sometimes rotated in and out of stasis for long journeys. He nodded slightly at that; it made sense.
From another table, he picked up a bit about a school for the kids, plus the fact that the elite and rich had access to regen as well as anti-geriatric therapies. That made him wonder if the vice admiral … was he the original? It was an interesting question, he thought as he dabbed a dribble away with a linen napkin.
Obviously, they recruited from their own ranks. Children of the Horathian pirates plus the locals they mated with were indoctrinated and eventually joined the ranks. Some have grandchildren or great or even great grandchildren in the ranks. He fought to keep an instant thought about how Neos could breed from coloring his thoughts.
The thing that surprised him the most was that Tortuga had a partial repair yard built out of a factory ship. That explained the truss slip, he thought. Every ship captured or salvaged eventually made its way to Tortuga as a prize ships. He wondered briefly how many of the salvaged ships were Tauren in origin?? A few warships that had been found, were they modern or old? Any battleships? There had been a few battlecruisers. What about the one in port outside; was it serviceable?
“Excuse me, I was wondering,” he said, turning to the helmswoman and her partner. They turned to him in annoyance. “Captain Layafette, I'm new here,” he explained. “I was wondering, the prize ships, it seems some of them are stripped …” he indicated the metal table he was seated at and then the front of a building a few meters away that sported an airlock for a front door. “I saw some of the markets here. I haven't seen shipments making their way back home. Do all the parts stay here, or do you trade them back to the lubbers?” he asked, using the term they used for the non-Horathians in the sector.
The woman nodded slowly” Aye, after all, we can always steal it again. And frequently we do!” She flashed a brief smile. It was a bit of a horror show for him because the teeth were green and black … those that were still in her mouth. Slowly he set the remains of his burrito down carefully. “Let 'em fill em up with booty, then take it for ourselves,” she said with another feral grin.
“I see,” the captain said as he brushed crumbs and grease off his fingers.
“Ya gonna finish that, Skipper?” the woman asked, pointing to the burrito.
“Have at it,” he said. She instantly darted out with one hand to snag the burrito. Another person grabbed the hot sauce but slopped it. A fight broke out over what had to be a couple bites of food. Fernando hastily got up and backed away as the proprietor beat a baseball bat on the table to get them to behave.
He dropped a coin in the tip jar out of prudence and then took off for the docks. When he got there, he changed course from his ship to head to the shipyard. He wasn't surprised to see half cut-up ships in some of the slips nearby. But he was surprised to see partially-restored ships being worked on. They were frequently taking one ship, cutting it up, and then using the parts to put other ships back into service. Just how big was the Tau fleet he wondered.
He noted there were a lot of hyenas in the engineers. Some had battered and smudged names written on the backs of their jackets. He'd heard that hyenas were warriors but … engineers?
He shook his head as he noted all the ships. Duty called for the Gather Fleet to send their best back to the homeworld. Tau had stopped doing that decades ago … but to be fair the homeworld had stopped sending them regular resupply runs too.
When he started to get some unwanted stares, he decided it was time to call it a day and head back to his ship.
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Captain Layafette presented what he knew to his senior officers as well as to the two visiting captains the following day. He finished his report and then turned to his XO.
“What did you find out?” the captain asked as he turned to his XO. She grimaced at the sight of the two doctors in the room. “Come on, Commander, I know you went walkabout too. I saw you,” he said.
“Well, I did find out they barter their prize money and goods, those that don't waste it in the tables or at a brothel or in a bottle,” the XO said, shaking her head. “Inflation is an issue; when too many ships come in, the price drops on the goods so they get less. That can lead to problems with the crews.”
“Supply and demand you mean,” Doctor Wilhelm corrected.
“Whatever,” she said crossly, looking at the intruder coldly. “The pirate lords, the old ones have set themselves up as merchant houses. They stockpile goods, even ships. They trade between themselves and buy stuff in the markets to keep the prices level. They put together crews and ships and send them out on expeditions, not just to loot but to explore the sector too. Not all of them make it back,” she warned.
“They act as investors? It makes sense, let someone else do the dirty work and take on the risk,” Captain Chen rumbled.
“Exactly,” the XO replied. “They eventually turn over their personal ships to a trusted family member, usually a son or daughter,” she explained. “They get a percentage from each ship's booty. They also fund expeditions, though in a few rare instances a wise person can save their earnings, pool them with other friends and family, and buy a ship.”
“Interesting.”
“The noobs with a plan but no money can pitch it to the court and try to generate interest. But the old salts usually steal the plan for themselves if they like it,” the XO continued. “Finding new hunting grounds is important to them. The loot over the past fifty or so years has gone down in value. Most of it is low-grade tech, raw material, rare goods, foods, or basic trade goods. I even saw furniture,” she said, shaking her head. “They've skimmed the sector so heavily that most of the planets can't get above the early industrial period in tech. Lately, the admiral has ordered them to leave certain areas alone to lie fallow so they can rebuild their stocks.”
“How do they keep from things getting out of hand? Say cheating and the like?” Doctor Wilhelm asked.
“They have the court. The admiral will intervene if they get out of hand. There is a set of rules on barter. They've learned to not let it spill into blood, business is business. Don't let it get personal. But if it does, there is always the dome,” she said.
“Dome?”
“Two people enter, one person leaves. Brutal and efficient way of dueling and settling differences,” the XO replied. “Also a high point of entertainment for them. It reminds me of the gladiator pits,” she said.
“Ah,” Captain Chen said with a nod. “Continue.”
“The admiral gets a tithe from all the pirate lords. He authorizes the expeditions. The raids in the sector go off like clockwork; they are on a predictable timetable. Some of the ships travel in pairs, others work solo. Those who travel in pairs have a tender with them; the tender takes on the loot and spoils and carries it to the nearest base to unload while the warships head to the next target.”
“So they do land?”
“Yes. The lubbers pay a price to keep from being bombed or raided. It's all negotiated and of course subject to inflation,” she said, shooting a look at Doctor Wilhelm.
“Ah,” Captain Layafette said with a nod.
“The big ass battlecruiser out there? It's a Tauren build. Old, a museum piece, but it's the personal ship of the vice admiral. He does a circuit of the bases, also in a pattern. He holds court in each and settles disputes when the need arises.”
“Interesting.”
“Oh, it gets better. The skipper found out about the pirate lords using stasis. That's true. They do that if they don't have access to anti-geriatrics or don't want to be awake while in transit. The vice admiral is the Vice Admiral Ishmael, the same Neolion who started the Tau mission centuries ago. He should be dead in a fight but he is that good, that cunning. Don't underestimate him,” she warned.
“That does make thi
ngs interesting,” Captain Chen said, shooting a significant look at the other captains. “If he's not senile …”
“He's not. He has to be on the top of his game or the other lords will tear him apart. He can fight. He lost that eye in the dome. Everyone is scarred for a reason,” the XO said.
“Ah,” Captain Chen said slowly, thoughtfully.
“I also found out that most of the pirate ships in service are converted prize ships or salvaged warships. Most of the warships are destroyers or cruisers since they could handle the long cruises easily. There are a few smaller ships, but they are for the small fry. They don't jump far.”
“Numbers? Types?” Captain Layafette demanded.
The XO shook her head and spread her hands apart. “I doubt they even know. They have a war book, but we haven't been given access to it yet. I do know a bit more like that the tin cans are of all sorts and types, as are the cruisers. They are of all three classes: light, medium, and heavy.” She grimaced. “According to my sources, there are some fighters and bombers but no carriers in the Tau pirates, nor specialist warships unless they were salvaged. Most of those are docked and scrapped,” she said.
“Okay, so not a big fleet?”
“It is fairly large, dozens of warships and tenders. Which by the way are captured prize ships that frequently have a slave crew press-ganged into service,” she said. “A few have managed to mutiny and disappear by the way.”
“That's not good if they can get word of the location of these bases …,” Doctor Goethe said.
“I know,” the XO said. “I had that thought too. Right now, there is no one out there to be a threat,” she said.