Allies of Convenience: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 1

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Allies of Convenience: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 1 Page 5

by Sean Benjamin


  “I wonder if they’re clones,” Hawkins remarked, not for the first time.

  “Cloning is illegal everywhere in the universe,” Baby Doll replied.

  “So is piracy.”

  Baby Doll shrugged in response and they smiled at each other.

  Baby Doll went on, “Weapons, aye. Medical, aye. “

  “Medical, aye?” questioned Hawkins.

  “Affirm. Doc Windsor is good to go.”

  Doctor Joshua Windsor and two corpsmen he trained were the ship’s medical department. He had been a skilled surgeon from a long family line of medical achievers. Doc Windsor loved practicing medicine but, unfortunately for all concerned, he loved alcohol and drugs more, especially angel kiss. His life had been one of early high achievement and then a steady downward trend. He had made numerous attempts to get back on the straight and narrow to satisfy his family, friends, and various medical authorities, but these never lasted long. What followed was a continuous movement to less important positions further and further from the Empire’s home systems. Finally, he arrived in the Badlands and to the simultaneous conclusion that he liked his alcohol and drugs and would not give them up. The decision freed him to enjoy himself most of the time while practicing medicine without a license to earn money. His great fortune was in meeting Raferty Hawkins in a watering hole and being offered a shipboard medical job. The rules were easy. Be ready to do your job aboard ship and do whatever you wanted the remainder of the time. For the first time in Windsor’s adult life, nobody cared about his personal habits nor were the pirates interested in reforming him. His kind of people. Under this system, Doc Windsor thrived. His medical skills were greatly appreciated by the crew and he had a loyal following of several crewmembers that ensured he always returned from liberty regardless of his condition. These same crewmembers also acted as a personal bodyguard to keep others from kidnapping this valuable medical man.

  Baby Doll continued, “Damage control, aye. Logistics, aye.”

  “Excellent,” Rafe smiled. “We will climb to the outer edge of the inner orbit. I want to be in trace of Shamrock.” He spoke out to the helmsman. “Eli, move out. We’ll take up a position on the outer edge of the inner orbit well in trail of Shamrock. As Shamrock takes Lodus, move up to support.”

  “Aye, Captain,” replied Eli as he glanced backward at his captain with a grin. Eli was little more than a boy, but he had been with Rafe for three years and would cut off his arm for his captain. Wild on liberty, even by pirate standards, he was a hard worker and an excellent helmsman, a station he always occupied when battle was possible.

  Rafe turned back to Baby Doll, “We should have a good seat for the upcoming battle.”

  “And a good seat to see if any OrCons come around the other side of the planet for a rear attack,” Baby Doll added.

  “Why, you’re exactly right,” exclaimed Rafe in mock surprise. “You are a tactical genius.” He went on in a serious voice, “I don’t know if the OrCons will split up. They have a superior force so shouldn’t get cute, but sometimes the OrCons can’t help themselves. It is possible they will try to come from the front and rear at the same time.” He paused as he studied a screen showing the harbor traffic to see if any other ship reacted to his ship’s change of position. “Is our fake ident still hanging in there?”

  Baby Doll nodded. “No alarm so far. We’re still the ESS MacGregor to anyone searching the port records or scanning us electronically. Any visual sighting should confirm that as long as they don’t look too close.”

  ESS MacGregor was also a Clan class destroyer still in the service of the Goth’s puppet government in the Edinburgh system. She had been identical to the Predator before the Predator had been modified with the extra weapons and electronic systems. A detailed visual scan of the Predator would reveal the differences, but the fake identification should fool a casual observer.

  The Predator began to swing out of the inner edge of the lower orbit and negotiate its way through the traffic to the outer edge. The Predator would be on the outer edge of the inner orbit at full battle stations when Shamrock took Lodus and would be in the same position when the main fighting between the Zekes and the OrCons commenced.

  Chapter 10

  The woman onboard Shamrock watched the comm array on Lodus pivot roughly sixty degrees and, after ten seconds, pivot back.

  “Time to move,” she said loudly.

  She maneuvered the ship to within fifty kilometers of the Lodus as the five crewmen behind her fastened their helmets down and checked each other for airtight security of their suits. They slapped each other on the helmet to show the inspection complete and then turned to checking their weapons for the last time. The hatch on the Shamrock’s top blister just behind the small bridge slid open. A laser locked onto the Lodus comm array and fired as the ships continued to close.

  The laser fired a two-second burst and scored a direct hit on its target. The array comm equipment on Lodus received a fist-size hole through the center of its dish and immediately dropped downward as it lost power. The second laser shot impacted just forward of the engine nozzles. A prolonged burst was needed to burn through engine plating and into the engines themselves. Since the small trader had no force field and was not expecting trouble, the two shots easily succeeded in their goals. Communications were disabled and Lodus started to drift as Shamrock quickly closed the remaining distance to the ship. The woman at Shamrock’s controls throttled back and briefly put Shamrock in reverse at exactly the right time to bring the small vessel close abeam on the port side of Lodus while matching the velocity of the slowing vessel. Shamrock’s laser moved slowly back and forth covering the target ship. The hatch on Shamrock’s small airlock opened. Two crewmen with grappling rifles leaned out and each fired a grappling line with attached magnets at Lodus. Both lines sped across the short distance, hit the port side of Lodus, and stuck fast. Two other crewmen were out in an instant and moved hand over hand to Lodus while the two who had fired the grapplers dropped them and grabbed pulse rifles to cover the boarding party. The fifth member of the team, a corpsman, held in the airlock to await developments. Once the two men arrived and attached themselves to Lodus, they pulled their shooters from holsters at their waists and moved to the top of Lodus to cover both sides. All this took ninety seconds and Lodus had made no response as of yet.

  The woman at the helm calmly keyed in the emergency radio and spoke quietly, “Lodus, this is Shamrock on emergency radio.” Since emergency radios only transmitted on one frequency, she knew the other ship had heard her, and also knew the low power she was using and the limited range of the radios would ensure nobody else heard.

  She waited thirty seconds, sighed, and then hit the transmit pad again, “I want to be nice about this, but my patience is not endless and when it runs out, I guarantee it will not return. Easy or hard, up to you.”

  Another ten seconds passed and a voice said, “What do you want? We are just a small trading ship with nothing of value.”

  The man’s voice had a slight edge to it, but he was keeping his emotions under control. He was undoubtedly buying time to see what the reality of the situation was and to look at all possible courses of action. If he was indeed a mercenary as Hawkins thought, he would be a veteran who didn’t rattle easily. This was bad in that he might figure out a viable course of action which could make this whole event more complicated, but it could be good in that, as a veteran mercenary, he had no emotional ties to the current assignment so would make a deal if he saw no way out. It was the woman’s job to make sure he saw the situation from the latter point of view.

  “It’s going to be difficult to have a trusting relationship if you insist on starting with a big fat lie,” the woman calmly replied. “In fact, you are Goth mercenaries on a mission to keep the oncoming OrCon squadron up to date on the location and activities of the nearby Zeke squadron. The OrCons have just entered subspace and will be here in approximately five hours. I assume you will stay on station to ma
ke a warning transmission if a bad situation develops as the OrCons close on target via subspace. You might also have to make a routine transmission during the subspace transit if it has been set up as part of the plan.”

  There was a long silence. The woman waited. She realized the man needed time to digest this, but had no intention of allowing him time to come up with a response plan. Finally she hit the pad again, “I’m running low on patience. Need some persuasion? Easily arranged.”

  “No,” the man replied. “We’re talking about it. How do we know you won’t kill us?”

  “The point of fact is you don’t know, but I will tell you I need you to finish the transmission schedule, and then you will get dropped off on Potenka to make your own way to wherever. I work with Raferty Hawkins, and I’m sure you know he has a reputation for going easy on people who cooperate with him.”

  Another pause. “How do I know you’re not Killian O’Hare?”

  The woman laughed, “If I was Killian O’Hare, you would already be dead.”

  A few seconds pause and then, “Point taken. We’re opening up.”

  The hatch to the airlock was on the far side of the Lodus. One man on top went in. A few seconds later, he was on the air.

  “I love beer,” he stated over the air.

  The woman stated over the raid intercom freq, “We’re in and all clear.”

  The second man on top of Lodus heard this, went into the airlock, and then entered the spaceship’s compartment. The two men covering with rifles from Shamrock now moved over to Lodus via the two boarding lines. One man went into the ship as the other stopped and checked the comm array.

  “No way,” he abruptly reported before also descending down the far side of Lodus and into the ship.

  The woman was nonplused by the declaration. It would have been nice if a quick repair would fix the array, but she didn’t really think it would be that easy. They would simply bring the crew over to Shamrock and send any transmissions needed from here. She moved the ship closer to Lodus and scanned the sensors to ensure Predator was close behind. She switched to a covered frequency and broadcasted, “Done.”

  “Good,” came Hawkins immediately. “347.95.”

  The woman switched to the covered frequency and called, “Mackenzie, Shamrock.”

  “Mackenzie here. Stand by.”

  The call was quickly passed to Sky. She looked at the image on the screen. The woman was disfigured on the left side of her face. It had been medically treated but not very well. Her face was scarred and the replacement left eye was a slightly different color than the right eye. Sky had heard the pirates had money so the woman could have had another surgery if she wanted. She idly wondered why the woman didn’t do this.

  “Shamrock, we’ve been monitoring. Congratulations. Nicely done.”

  The woman nodded. It was obvious the compliment meant nothing to her. The woman stated, “We’ll get the crew over here and ensure they stay on whatever prearranged transmission schedule has been set up. They have already agreed to cooperate so this should go well.”

  “Thank you,” Sky answered. “What is your name, please?”

  “Tactical.”

  Sky almost asked again, thinking the woman had identified her position, not her name, but something told her that she had indeed heard her name. “Thank you for all your work, Tactical. Please pass on my thanks to your crew also.”

  Tactical nodded and clicked off without anther word. “Not one for small talk,” reflected Sky, “probably a common trait among pirates.”

  The five-man crew of Lodus moved to Shamrock. Lodus was abandoned and would be claimed as salvage in short order by one or more of the ships in low orbit. The majority of these ships had seen the takeover but had studiously looked the other way. The port authorities had reported the incident to Commissioner Putinsky. She and the other dinner party members were still with Deputy Attus so it was a small matter to ensure the Potenka government was informed of the incident. The port authorities were advised by the Deputy Chancellor to do nothing.

  In Shamrock, Tactical turned to the man in charge of Lodus. Scarred, bearded, and heavy set, he was obviously a mercenary hired by the Goths to keep track of the Zeke squadron and report to the OrCons. Tactical was vaguely surprised the OrCons did not have their own people doing this mission, but this situation might have been set up this way at the insistence of the Goths. They would want the OrCons dependent on them as long as possible. Of course, if the OrCons learned of this pirate intrusion, this would make them very unhappy and looking for someone to blame. They might blame the pirates, but the pirates would be gone from the scene while the Goths would be close at hand. The surviving OrCons might ask the Goths why the Goth spy ship did not report the Zeke preparation for the coming OrCon attack.

  “Not my problem,” thought Tactical, “but the OrCon comm schedule is my problem.”

  “What is the comm set up with the OrCons?” Tactical asked without preamble.

  The man stared in slight surprise at the abruptness, but he could go with it.

  “We send one more transmission at two hours prior and the final go message just before the ships emerge. If there is a problem here, the final message would not be a go call but an abort. The ships would not emerge but continue in subspace and depart the area.”

  “The OrCons have a ship coming out of subspace for the transmissions?”

  “No,” replied the man. “There is a small Goth trading vessel holding at that halfway point that will receive the transmission and retransmit to the nearby submerged ships.”

  Ships in subspace can receive short messages from ships within several kilometers of them whether the transmitting ship is in subspace or not. These messages can be easily garbled and most units relied on single code words to convey their intended meaning. These code words would be transmitted several times to ensure reception by the subspace ships. The pirates had used the same procedure themselves on occasion.

  “Just prior to the OrCon scheduled arrival, we were to move out of orbit like we were departing orbit and proceed to the other side of the Zero formation to send a go or abort message just prior to the OrCons coming out of subspace,” the man finished his answer in a matter of fact manner. He knew how this game was played and lying now would only get him killed.

  Tactical digested the information and concluded it was correct.

  “Is the transmission voice only or with video?”

  “Voice only. Less chance of interception or even being noticed.”

  Tactical nodded. It all made sense. “I need the same person to make the last two reports.”

  “That would be me,” the man said. “No problem. You want the freq or should I just put it in when the time comes?”

  “I’ll input it and you do the talking,” responded Tactical.

  “No,” said a voice from the screen at the helm station. “I want you back here. Turn command over to Logan and we’ll be alongside to pick you up in a minute.”

  “Give me time to get into the rest of my suit,” replied Tactical a bit testily. “Damn,” she thought, “he is going to fight against the OrCons in the upcoming battle.” She had been afraid of that but she and Baby Doll had ensured the Predator was battle ready just for that eventuality. She climbed out of the helm position and reached for her helmet as Logan wordlessly slid into the seat.

  The voice on the console spoke again, “Logan, carry out the rest of the mission as called for. If all goes well and the information checks out, let the Lodus crew go when you return to the space dock. If they lied to us, kill them.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Logan responded. He was a member of the operations department and an excellent man for these types of missions. As an Edinburgh system native and former Edinburgh navy petty officer who joined the pirate crew when the Burgh ships were “liberated,” he did not like Goths, not even a little. If this mercenary lied, Logan would have no problem with the second part of his orders. The mercenary paled a bit but was not overly
concerned. He had told the truth and Rafe Hawkins was known as a reasonable individual who would keep his word.

  Predator began to overtake Shamrock as Tactical moved into the airlock. In short order, the two ships were close abeam, a line passed across and Tactical departed Shamrock, crossed on the lifeline and entered the open left airlock on Predator. The line was retrieved by Predator and the ship returned to an astern position of the Shamrock.

  In moments, Tactical had climbed out of her suit and moved to the bridge. She reviewed all sensors and communications logs and conferred with Baby Doll. She was up to speed quickly. One item that came out of the discussion with Baby Doll was all flotilla ships were still well out of range on their own agendas, and Hawkins had not issued a rally order to pull together as many as possible. None of the ships could make it here in time for the upcoming battle, but they could rally together for follow-on operations. If the Zekes were destroyed or crippled, the Goths might have a big move planned to take advantage of the resulting power vacuum. Flot 1 needed to be prepared for this possibility, as there would be safety and opportunity in numbers. Tactical was surprised.

  She approached the captain in his command chair. “No rally order?”

  Hawkins glanced up from his screens at her. “Thought about it. Not sure there was going to be a battle here for us, and not sure I want to risk our ships in a fight not of our own making. Besides we are so spread out only a couple of ships could have made it here in time.”

  She stared at him, not bothering to hide her impatience for a more complete answer.

  Rafe sighed and then went on, “I’m also not sure how many captains would answer the call if they knew what they were getting into. There is no great love for the Zekes out there. Most of our ships can’t get here in time for this battle so they would know this would be an open-ended commitment. If that happens, I will owe my captains and I don’t want to expend the capital. We’ll take this one alone and see how it all plays out.”

 

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