Darklight Pirates

by Robert E. Vardeman

Kori motioned for her to try to make contact with the CIO. As Bella fiddled with the comlink, she searched through the small room for anything that might be useful. She pulled a pair of lasepistols from clips on the wall and pressed the power studs to build up a charge. The quiet hum assured her that the batteries weren't dead. What food she could cram into a makeshift backpack made from a torn sheet hardly seemed adequate. The urge to slam the heavy door behind them and pretend that aid came before they died passed as her anger grew.

  Weir was responsible. He had to pay. She clutched the pistol and imagined him in the sights. She wouldn't simply train the aiming bead between his eyes and squeeze off a shot. She would cut off his ears. His nose. Blind him. Slice flesh from his bones until he cried for mercy, but there wouldn't be any, not from her. How dare he kill Ebony? And try to kill Bella and her? For all she knew, he had a bloody hand in Donal's death.

  She gasped, as if punched in the stomach. If Donal had died, so had Cletus. Her family was dying all around because of Goram Weir.

  "Mama, I got through. Sean will land a carrier a kilometer north, on the rocky side of the island."

  Kori closed her eyes and pictured the geography around her. She and her daughters had come to the summer house for a little vacation while Donal was off planet. The Emerald Isle house had always been her favorite, and now it was being demolished, one room at a time. Along with her life, everything she held most precious was being destroyed. Concentrating harder, she knew they could hide in the rocky portion of the northern stretches. Cliffs towered over the Clover Sea. Heavy forest made getting to those cliffs almost impossible.

  "Close the door and let's go. We might slow them if they think we are inside."

  Bella put her shoulder against the door and shoved it shut. A quick touch on the lock sealed the room. She worried that their footprints on the dusty floor would show they weren't inside, but the dark corridor might conceal that. If the soldiers felt the urge to use their weapons to open the safe room, that would take a long, long time. Even better if they intended to use explosives and turn everyone in the room to bloody pulp. Such a charge took several precious minutes to lay.

  Minutes they needed to reach to the northern edge of the island where Sean Scarlotti would rescue them.

  She snorted in contempt at such an idea. Scarlotti wouldn't be there because he valued his own life more than theirs. If only he didn't betray them there must be some way off the island and across the sea. Kori tried to keep from gasping as she crowded Bella along. Echoes of pursuit came as they turned a sharp corner and began struggling up a steep ramp.

  "They'll catch us, Mama. We can't get out!"

  Kori pushed her daughter aside and saw how the translucent door leading into the north topiary garden was securely locked. There had never been reason for her to have Donal explain all the safeguards to her. Burran had been a placid country, content to simply exist. Eire's sniping had increased and even Uller forced military confrontations, but those neighboring countries were only minor disruptions. The military drilled endlessly but had never fought a prolonged war; its veterans were those of border skirmishes. Only Bella had anticipated an internal fight for power, and Kori doubted even she had believed that they would be attacked in this fashion. Donal and Cletus dead in space, Ebony shot down and soldiers only seconds behind her and Bella as they ran for their lives from a traitor.

  The lock remained closed when she pressed her palm against it.

  "Stand back." She aimed the lasepistol for the center of the lock and pressed the trigger. Kori averted her face as molten metal spattered outward. Ignoring the tiny burns on her hands and face, she continued to beam the lock until the laser began to falter. At the instant where she considered using the lasepistol she had given Bella, the lock gave way. She put her shoulder to the panel and heaved.

  The heavy door opened enough to give her a view outside where a squad of commandos lay prone among the fantastical hedge creatures, weapons directed toward the house.

  She had Bella squeeze between the door and frame, then hold it open so she could follow. Silently, they made their way behind the alert commandos─but the soldiers looked only to the house for a target, not behind. Bella refused to yield her lasepistol so her mother could shoot the scum in the backs where they lay.

  "Mama, you'll get us killed." The whisper cut through the red haze of her fury. She stopped trying to pry the weapon from her daughter and pointed to the far side of the island.

  The house had been built on the lee side. The elevation to the north was a hundred meters more than on the south and protected house and gardens from the strong storms blowing off the Clover Sea with its curious four-fold symmetry waves. Within a few paces they entered the woods. A dozen hid the house and its attackers. A hundred saw them surrounded by dense vegetation.

  "Their sensors won't pick us up under the trees if we move slowly," Bella said. "I've programmed the weather sats for Papa for a year now and know their capabilities."

  "They might have drone surveillance on us rather than using the orbital sensors." Kori's mind raced. "Weir won't want many to know he tried to kill us. Covering up what he's doing if he used a direct feed from the weather sats means hundreds of operators would have to keep quiet."

  "The fewer who know, the better," Bella agreed. She looked at the comlink she had taken from the safe room and sighed. A rock smashed it to dust. "They'll look for any comlink not on their frequency," she explained.

  Kori knew then that only paranoia kept them alive. They began hiking, moving in a zigzag pattern, slowly for a few minutes, then picking up the pace to not present a uniform image for the recon drones humming about just over tree level. The food she had brought weighed her down, but she refused to leave it behind. Scarlotti would not rescue them, and they'd have to live on their own for days or even weeks to avoid the commandos. A cave might shelter them, but it would also bring attention as a hiding place. All she had seen were soldiers from two squads─not more than twenty to hunt for their fugitives on a large overgrown area prone to violent storms. How long could Weir leave them on the island before questions were asked he didn't want to answer?

  Without knowing how widespread the coup was, she couldn't answer that. Just thinking of Weir caused her to grind her teeth and clench her fists so tightly that fingernails cut into her fleshy palms. She forced herself to relax. If she left a blood trail, a sniffer could find her in a few minutes. It was bad enough that the blood on her face had dried but still might leave a trace.

  "We're getting close," Bella said.

  "Close to what?"

  "Where Sean said he'd pick us up. There's a flat, rocky stretch where he can bring down a small carrier. We might be crowded, but we'll be away from the island."

  She scoffed at such naivete. Overloading a two-person carrier was the least of their worries. It wouldn't have speed to evade the drones or the manned fighters like the one that had launched its missile against Ebony's jet.

  A tear crept out and ran down her dirty cheek, leaving a muddy streak as she thought of Ebony being murdered so callously right in front of her. Why had she tried to leave without letting anyone know? Her older daughter was─had been─headstrong and had never chosen her lovers wisely, but recently there had been a new purpose to her that calmed her wild spirit. Kori thought age had done it. Bella was a mature seventeen, but Ebony at twenty-one was only beginning to blossom into a sensible adult.

  "There's the landing pad."

  "Stay under the trees." She pulled Bella back, but the girl slipped free and ran into the clearing, waving her arms wildly to attract the attention of a tiny dot growing rapidly in the bright blue sky.

  "Your pistol. Use it on the pilot. We can get away ..." Her voice trailed off as the tiny carrier spun about its axis a dozen meters overhead and then slipped lower on a supporting column of air.

  It made hardly any sound as it touched down. The hatch flew open and Sean Scarlotti popped out to take Bella in his arms. The sight of the older man
with her young daughter ignited Kori's ire. How had they ever found each other? She thought Bella had devoted all her time in the capital to learning how to be the Programmer General when Donal retired in a few years. She had been learning other things that had nothing to do with coding.

  "Mama, come on. Get in. Sean says we can get away now, but there are more fighters dispatched and on the way. They intend to turn the entire island into a molten crater."

  She walked deliberately to the carrier.

  "Get in, Bella." Scarlotti shoved the girl inside. He held out his hand, stopping Kori. "Ma'am," he said in a low voice. "I have some bad news. The Shillelagh has been destroyed, your husband and Cletus aboard."

  "Bella already told me. Now take us off this damned island," she said. "Take us somewhere that we can fight back."

  Scarlotti looked startled, then nodded in agreement. In seconds, the overloaded carrier rose sluggishly, spun about its vertical axis and skimmed off just above the four-headed green waves breaking against the rocky cliffs.

  Chapter Seven

  Cletus Tomlins tumbled through the command deck, his fire control helmet protecting his head from too much damage as he smashed into stationary chairs and instrumentation modules. Shaken, he reacted instinctively by throwing out arms and legs to slow his rotation. He winced as his arm crashed into a drifting officer, obviously dead, but the reaction slowed him even more, giving him a chance to grab for a stanchion.

  "Report!" He barked out the order, although his father commanded the Shillelagh now that Sorrel had been removed.

  The voice reports came from all over the bridge. He tried to sort through them and concentrate on the ones most vital and those most requiring his immediate attention. Through the din, made shrill by the decreased atmosphere caused by the hole in the hull partially plugged with another corpse, came Leanne's plea for help. Cletus swung about and stared through the debris floating weightlessly. The explosion had taken out their artificial gravity generator, leaving them to flounder about in zero-g. He blinked a few times into his HUD and brought the remaining low-power laser batteries to bear on the Highlander. Steady, accurate fire removed the cruiser's offensive capabilities quickly.

  Only when he began to gloat over such an easy victory did he realize the cruiser vectored away from them, lacking power. Something had destroyed their drive capability. Realizing the energy weapons trained against him were without power, Cletus turned his attention completely to Leanne. She motioned to him from the captain's chair where his father floated unconscious.

  With a scissors-kick Cletus arrowed across the bridge, grabbed the captain's chair arm and came to an abrupt stop.

  "Is there any damage likely if I remove his helmet?" Leanne touched the command helmet. Some electrodes had gouged out shallow, bloody pits in his scalp. The device hung askew.

  Cletus had no experience in this, but seeing the way the control helmet sat on his father's head decided him to take the risk. Removing it when a solid connection between brain and neural network existed could prove dangerous. From the way the electrodes looked, some hardwired contacts had been broken by the explosion. Cletus ran his fingers under the wireframe device and lifted gently.

  At first it stuck. He caught his breath, worrying it was held by electromagnetic bonding to his father's brain. Then he saw how the blood oozing from the wounds had begun to dry. With a quick yank, he pulled off the helmet. It took all his willpower not to fling it across the bridge. This device might have fried his father's brain beyond any hope of rebooting.

  Donal Tomlins moaned and reached for his forehead where a gash bled profusely. He winced as he touched it. His eyes flickered open.

  "Did you blow the son of a bitch out of space?"

  "The cruiser's power plant must have been damaged. The ship is drifting."

  "Don't let it get too far."

  "I can destroy it." Cletus closed his eyes, then broke off giving the mental orders when his father grabbed him and shook hard.

  "No, don't. We need the survivors for questioning. That was the Highlander? Not another ship running under false identity?"

  Using his helmet, Cletus found a targeting station, powered up the CCD telescope attached to the laser cannon, read the ID number on the distant cruiser and then made out the name mostly seared off by his laser barrage. He nodded.

  "Captain Lochlan commanded the Highlander. He might have turned traitor like Sorrel or a mutiny removed him. Or he somehow might have believed Sorrel's mutiny on the Shillelagh had succeeded. I need to know."

  "If Lochlan is also a conspirator, the rot runs very deep in your military and probably in your on-planet command structure," Leanne said.

  "Exactly." Donal pushed himself back into the chair, gripping the arms to prevent himself from floating freely. "Get me the auxiliary command helmet. The primary is ruined." He rubbed the bloody spots on his head and smiled wryly. He pressed down into the still flowing head wound until he stanched the flow. "It's a good thing I have a hard head."

  "Here," Leanne said, passing over a duplicate of the command helmet.

  "Are you sure you're up for this? I can─" Cletus cut off his protest when his father shot him a cold look.

  "I set the RRUs to work before the explosion aft. The explosion ..." Donal said, his voice trailing off. He snapped back to full attention. "We are still spaceworthy. Barely. The cruiser took the brunt of the explosion from the warhead that drilled through our hull. We have Captain Sorrel to thank for that." He looked over his shoulder and took a deep breath. "RRUs have the life support back to nominal. No more external breaches, but it's a good idea to have hull integrity checked out in a dry dock."

  "Only if the dry dock is safely under our control," Cletus said. "The Highlander was docked at the station before it came for us."

  "The station crew might not have known what the cruiser intended," Leanne pointed out. "But your concern is well taken. Your orbiting station has weaponry capable of blowing even a fully armed and functional dreadnought from the sky."

  Cletus saw that she spoke with complete conviction─and complete knowledge of the station's weaponry. Supreme Leader had designs on Ballymore that stretched far beyond mere trade if his military intelligence included details of the station. Talking about this with his father was important, but getting the Shillelagh back into fighting condition took precedence.

  "We'll be back at 80 percent nominal overall within the hour," Donal said. "Muster the marines and send a squad to the Highlander to bring back prisoners and any recorded communication."

  "Sir, the armory at midship caused the explosion that damaged this vessel. It is doubtful any of your marine detachment survived."

  "Leanne is right. I'm not getting any response when I ping the major."

  "It is better if Cletus and I go to the disabled ship."

  Cletus looked at her, then smiled slowly.

  "She's right, Father. We can use the exos. There's enough oxygen in them for an hour trip."

  "I don't like you risking your lives like that," Donal said. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the flood of data reaching him, then looked increasingly grim as he evaluated everything. He finally said, "Go on. As you thought, the entire marine detachment is dead. I've restored full power and atmosphere to those compartments. The RRUs report enough dead bodies, or parts of bodies, to make any sortie unlikely."

  "I would recommend not attempting communication with either the station or your controller on-planet," Leanne said. "If I might make such a comment."

  "I agree. You and Cletus get the information, forget bringing back prisoners except for Captain Lochlan, then return within the margin of safety for those suits. They are more than a match for a dozen marines, but you have no idea what you'll find on the Highlander."

  "Any sensor readings?"

  "Radiation from the failed fusion engine blocks my probes."

  "That's unusual. Radiation? When a fusion core goes down, it just ... shuts down."

  "The liquid sodium
spewed out. The compartment safeties were destroyed by a laser shot. Good shooting, Son. That's also turned the ship into a trap for the unwary."

  "We'll be back before you know it."

  Donal snorted. They knew he would monitor every centimeter of their incursion until the cruiser's hull itself blocked his sensors. Cletus turned over his fire control helmet to a second officer, started to give her orders, then knew that was a waste of time. Anything he told her, she already knew. And if circumstances required it, his father would provide better guidance than orders he gave now, before the ship was examined and boarded.

  Cletus trailed Leanne to the cargo hold. The robot repair units had fixed several punctures and restored pressure so they could wander about and find where the cargomaster had stowed the crates with the exoskeletons. He found the crates before Leanne and heaved, dropping one to the deck.

  "Programmer General Tomlins under compensated gravity," Leanne said. "I feel half as heavy as normal."

  Cletus saw how the dropped crate had broken open. He hadn't noticed the lesser gravity until Leanne mentioned it. There had been too many other problems to deal with. The sight of so much destruction between the bridge and cargo hold had left him desolate. Leanne dragging out segments of the exoskeleton perked him up. Wearing the exo and becoming powerful again thrilled him. He fell to helping her sort the parts.

  "We'll counter that when we get into the exos." He kicked away the crate, found the smaller unit that assembled the exo and activated it. Jumping back, he let the device piece together the arms, legs and torso, then begin the checklist to be certain the exo functioned up to standards. As the robotic assembler worked, he sat with the heavy helmet in his lap, working on the adjustments so it would fit his head. A blink, a head twist, a movement of his chin, all the calibrations energized different functions.

  "Here," Leanne said, dragging a box from the stack. "Power packs for your energy weapons and a dozen small ballistic devices for your arms and shoulders. The high explosives are limited."