Charley squeezed Harry’s hand.
“Harry, you know I’m a pirate through and through. Sometimes the romance of the chase is everything. We’re headed to Frostfire.”
Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief. Charley sensed that the hunt for silver elk was a deeply personal ambition. She revered Harry’s spiritual side - in some ways it was what being a pirate was all about.
Harry immediately plotted waypoints to the Mandavar system and asked the AI to alert the crew on approach.
The hours passed in a serene procession. The Phoenix had flawlessly shadowed the Surprise’s warp procedure. Charley was in deep sleep when the AI gently reported their arrival. Mandavar was a bright sepia flare to starboard. The various rocky planets passed by as if on parade. Charley assumed control of Surprise as they approached Frostfire. The planet was a milky orb smeared by enormous cells of grey cloud. Charley had the others report to the cockpit to prepare for orbital entry. The transition was a little rough due to atmospheric turbulence, but the Surprise was soon coursing high over a barren plateau of icy tundra. The Phoenix appeared dutifully on the starboard shoulder.
“Where to from here?” Charley asked Harry. The old pirate was giddy like a schoolboy.
“It might be an idea to start with a settlement,” Vanessa suggested, scanning a three-dimensional view of the landscape. “Plenty of smaller ones to choose from.”
“There,” Harry said, jabbing his finger at a village near the northern edge of the plateau. “At the very least we can spend the night in front of a roaring fire.”
Charley had to admit that sounded appealing. Life in deep space could be claustrophobic at times. She tried to hail the settlement over a general com channel and didn’t get a response till her third attempt.
Charley had a visual on the shipyard. It was essentially a collection of rundown local craft, many of them clearly unfit for space travel. She felt a little self-conscious landing her refitted heavy fighter next to such a modest collection. The feeling was enhanced when the Phoenix landed alongside the Surprise.
Charley killed the propulsion and instructed the AI to set a high security setting. She strapped on her weapons belt and made sure she had a full complement of pellets. Vanessa had returned the blaster she’d borrowed on Bonesse, so Charley had “babies” on each hip once more. Vanessa had been practicing with a new weapon - a light crossbow. Charley had doubted the usefulness of the weapon at first, but the girl seemed determined to learn a skill that no one else on the crew had. The light crossbow did have vast potential as a stealth weapon and the sheer range of available ammunition was impressive. Standard darts, poison darts, electromagnetic darts and a range of toxic paralysis darts based on varying alien physiologies. Charley had insisted on buying Vanessa a deluxe case containing all the ammo she might need.
The pirate captain debated whether she should pull on a fur-lined jacket. Her utility suit had a thermal setting that would protect her against the worst of the cold, but if suit functioning was impaired she’d be exposed to the elements. In the end, she opted for an elegant sallis fur coat that she’d picked up on Deep Blue. Vanessa wore something similar, but in a slightly different hue.
“I’m the luckiest man alive,” Harry purred as he helped the girls through the top hatch. “Never been surrounded by such glamor.”
Charley enjoyed the crunch of snow under her boots as she leaped to the ground. Wide-eyed with delight, she let a handful crumble through her fingers. Harry put an arm around her, letting her enjoy the moment. She smiled broadly at him. Battle-ready as ever, Gronko and Molly emerged from the Phoenix. Charley had already briefed them on silver elk and what the hunt promised to yield. As long as there was a payday in the offing, her crew would follow her anywhere.
54
A cold wind howled through the makeshift shipyard. Charley checked her wrist pad, which had automatically adjusted to local time. Only four in the afternoon but night was already gathering. A string of blue floodlights glowed in the dusk, leading the way to a clutch of buildings. Charley led her crew over the hard-packed snow to the only building with a coms dish on the roof.
It was surprisingly warm inside. Several locals stood around a central hearth drinking from steaming mugs. They had the weather-beaten, humble look of farmers and small-scale traders. A stocky man in a red suede vest approached the crew. His face was lined with hard-earned wisdom.
“Welcome to Scantia,” he said warmly. “My name is Daro Bennen. Unofficial mayor of this shit hole.”
Scattered laughter rippled around the hearth. Charley accepted the man’s hand with a smile. She generally liked men with a self-deprecating sense of humor.
“Good to be here,” Charley said. “It’s nice to have a place to stay.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Bennen. “All we ask in return are words.”
Charley raised her eyebrows.
“We don’t get many visitors,” Bennen explained. “You people look pregnant with some interesting stories.”
Charley realized that most folks in the room were staring openly at Gronko. She needed to draw their attention away. The big alien wasn’t likely to take well to their stares.
“We’re here for silver elk,” Charley said. “Word is the planet is coming back to life.”
“Who told you that?” a farmer asked. “I hope you haven’t spread that tale around.”
Charley felt the tension in the room. These people were clearly protective of their way of life.
“Most of the old folks remember the good times,” Bennen said. “Back when there were resources for everyone. But the old trade routes are gone. The few of us that hung around have endured one helluva long winter. Only now are the crops beginning to return. We’d like to keep that a secret as long as possible. If the trumped-up new Emperor found out, this place would be filled with troops before anyone could whisper the word ‘invasion’.”
Charley understood the settlers’ concerns. Their home was coming back to life and they had every right to cash in on their admirable patience. She was marching in to hunt an emblem of their resurgence.
“I didn’t come here to kill,” she began slowly, feeling like she was threading a minefield. “I came here to plunder a single resource. It is my duty as a pirate.”
Charley hadn’t intended to sound so hard, so defensive, but the effect seemed to be positive. The hardy settlers looked at her with grudging respect.
“Frostfire gets fifty percent of my profit,” she continued firmly. “You have my word as a pirate.”
Bennen stepped forward. “On behalf of Scantia, I accept your proposal, and offer you whatever support you need.”
Charley took the man’s hand a second time and the tension in the room melted. The crew was offered cups of the local brew, a thick, yeasty concoction called macheno. Charley didn’t like the taste but it filled her with long-lasting warmth. After a couple of hours acquainting herself with the locals, Harry tapped her on the shoulder and lead her out to a cold back room where locals slept in mounds of warm furs called dens. Charley realized she was quite drunk and was happy to be wrapped in the furs. She drifted away happily, her body surrendering to her cocoon.
Consciousness came slowly. Charley was vaguely aware of being perfectly safe. She listened to the sounds of sleeping in the neighboring mounds. Harry and Vanessa lay close. It made sense to use one room so the body heat could be trapped. Judging from the lack of generators, energy was probably at a premium.
The smell of baking bread drew Charley from the warm clutches of her mound. She stepped out into bracingly cold morning air and joined the huddle around a smoking pit. Several delicious-looking flat breads were warming up on hot coals. Daro Bennen was among the silent onlookers, staring into the embers as if he might find answers to his woes. Charley felt a peculiar tingle ru
n down her spine. This planet had a strange energy to it, a timelessness about the people and the land. She could almost see the old trade convoys as they trundled up and down the plateau. A landscape of wildflowers. These survivors were steadily building something again. The energy was nourishing to be around.
“I can guide you to the Ealing Forest,” Bennen said suddenly. “You might find your elk there, in the foothills.”
Charley bowed her head in thanks. Within two hours the crew was prepped and ready. There was no point in taking the ships over the forest - the noise and heat exhaust would have the critters running for cover. Bennen had prepared two troop carriers fitted with fat, spiked snow tires. Gronko and Molly joined Charley by the coals and sampled the bread. It was infused with butter and delicious wild herbs. Gronko looked fresh enough, but Molly had deep bags under her eyes.
“I ran a perimeter last night,” she explained. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Charley scolded her for being too work-oriented. Still, it made sense for Molly to run reconnaissance in what was unknown territory. Once Harry and Vanessa had breakfasted, the pirate crew piled into the back of their truck. The vehicle had probably belonged to the old Imperial army back when Frostfire had fully manned military bases. The second truck would carry supplies. Besides, the locals liked to travel in pairs in case one vehicle broke down.
The sun was feeble as the mini-convoy set out to the south east. Charley wished there was a window through which she could see the pristine wilderness slide past. The crew passed the time playing Battle Tactics on the floor. Much to everyone’s surprise, Gronko knew exactly how to play and even took a few credits on the side. It felt nice to share a little downtime with the crew. Even FIGJAM was less blatantly offensive than usual. All in all, Charley was in very good spirits when Bennen rapped his fist on the cabin to signal their arrival.
Charley stepped out into a beautiful, silent forest. Most of the trees had lost their leaves and grasped at the sky. A heavy layer of snow dampened the forest sounds, creating an eerie atmosphere. A bird squawked somewhere in the distance.
“I like this,” Gronko announced, brandishing his heavy flak gun. The weapon seemed wholly unsuitable for hunting deer. “It’s like tracking mudlarns back home.”
“Where would you like me to stand, Charley?” Vanessa asked nervously. The poor girl had probably never been on a hunting expedition.
“In front of me, darlin’, workin’ that ass,” FIGJAM said.
“You’re disgusting,” Charley said. “Try not to ruin my hunt.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” FIGJAM said. “When do we hit the next casino?”
“Hush.”
Bennen wished the hunting party good fortune and saddled the crew with a load of supplies.
“You’ll need them,” he said. “Critters are slowly returning to the forest but the snow cover still limits foraging options.”
“Thanks for your support, Daro,” Charley said. “The Pirate Guild looks forward to returning the favor.”
“Hunt well,” Daro said, climbing into the truck and revving the engine. Charley watched the trucks disappear to the south. Harry was studying a terrain projection when Charley caught up with him.
“Silver elk like remote gullies and glades,” he said. “I’m thinking we should trek into the center of these hills.”
Charley nodded, happy to be guided by the old pirate. She had limited hunting experience tracking sand lizards on Abeya, but that was a far cry from elk hunting on Frostfire. She called the crew together and established a formation. Harry would take point, despite Gronko’s enthusiasm. The big renki just wasn’t suited to this delicate, silent terrain. The rest of the party would follow single file, with Molly taking the rear. She could be depended on to stay vigilant and protect the flanks.
The party moved out, each pirate shouldering a portion of the supplies that Bennen had left them. Charley was hoping their quest would only take a few days - there was more plundering to do on the Beluga Run and she was itching to build her empire.
Harry led the party north along a ridge line. The surrounding terrain really was beautiful, especially when a light snow began to fall at midday. After two hours of solid hiking, the snow cover appeared somewhat diminished. It was nice to see plants and shrubbery not completely blanketed. The hunting party descended a deep gully and Harry motioned for everyone to stop and drop. Listening carefully, Charley crouched low. The gully felt warmer than the forest. A waft of air lifted her hair. At length she heard a subtle bubbling in the distance. Could it be a hot spring? The chirp of insects grew louder. Harry looked back at Charley and signaled the party to stand and continue. They headed north through a copse of yan trees ripe with green buds.
Harry stood under a gnarled old hanna tree and inspected the bark with great interest. A weird clicking sound erupted from somewhere, then disappeared. Charley spotted the source of the earlier sound - it was indeed a pool of hot, bubbling mud. The extra heat probably helped all these trees and plants to grow, which in turn attracted insects and larger creatures. Harry continued on, losing interest in the hanna tree. Charley had a second look it, freezing when the bark began to shimmer. She laid a hand on the ridged surface - it felt softer than it should. Something wasn’t right here. She took several rapid steps back for a better look. Something was attached to the tree, something big. Wings extended to either side. Beautiful, horrifying wings of yellow and red. Such an exotic sight, totally out of place in this elegant, wintry forest.
“Stick insect,” Harry said. “Fucking huge one.”
Charley was unsure what to think. A gob of green liquid spurted across the undergrowth and burned the tussocks where she’d been standing earlier. She looked up in alarm, seeing the stick insect’s small, ugly head at the base of the tree. It was upside down. The thing must’ve been at least eighteen feet in length. The wing span was almost double that.
“Right, so we should probably back away,” FIGJAM commented.
“Very quietly,” Harry said. “On my count.”
Charley drew one of her pistols just in case.
“Three. Two. One. Go!”
55
The pirates spun on their heels and ran. Charley heard the click of mandibles behind her and risked a glance over her shoulder. The grey, pinched face of the stick insect was barely five yards away, its long arms poised to strike. Charley darted between two trees, hoping the narrow passage would prove difficult for such a large beast. The solution was merely temporary. The insect flapped its colorful wings and maneuvered to Charley’s right flank. The other pirates were scrambling up the slope where another two insects, just a big as the first, were emerging from camouflage.
Charley activated her targeting computer and reeled off several blaster shots. Her targeter suggested concentrating fire on the insect’s thin wing membranes. She managed a small perforation in the left wing, eliciting a high-pitched squeal that made her stomach crawl. The thing kept on coming, snapping at her with its long arms and spouting gobs of green liquid. Was it bile? Poison? It didn’t really matter as long as she avoided it. She rolled clear of one spurt and pressed her attack on the beast’s left wing. The targeter couldn’t quite get a fix on the thing’s head and torso, so it made sense to play the percentages. Her second barrage had no discernible effect. The wing may have been thin, but it was also incredibly tough and resistant to energy fire. To make matters worse, Charley’s blaster maxed out and momentarily powered down. She drew the other one, this time firing indiscriminately at the insect’s head. Every panicked shot missed. Everything about the beast - from its grotesque body to its shrill call - seemed designed to trigger anxiety. The creature made another dive at her, pinning her down against the soft forest undergrowth. Charley felt a lancing pain at her shoulder and realized a pincer had tunneled right through it. She would’ve screamed if she wasn’t so terrified. A thunderous blast almost deafened her. When she dared open her eyes, the insect was a crumpled, gooey mess at the base of a tree sever
al yards away. Reloading his heavy weapon, Gronko stood in the trees.
“I owe you one, Gronko,” Charley said.
Gronko answered by spitting on the ground. “This is what I do, human,” he said, hefting his weapon and aiming at a second insect.
“Gronko, behind you!”
Charley’s warning came too late. The third insect swooped the big alien from behind and lifted the big alien into the air. The pirate captain fired at the rising insect but failed to bring the thing down. Vanessa, crouching behind a fallen log not far from Charley, fired her crossbow into the tree canopy. The incendiary dart disintegrated the insect’s right wing and it released Gronko like a hot potato. The alien hit two trunks on the way down but landed on a mound of rotting wood, probably the best cushion he could’ve hoped for. Charley ran to assist while the rest of the crew engaged the last stick insect. Gronko had a huge bruise on the back of his neck and a nasty laceration across his wrist but he was conscious and keen to return to the fray. Charley shook her head in wonder - that fall would’ve killed a human.
Drawing both blasters, she followed Gronko up the wooded slope. Steam rose from fissures in the ground, suggesting something unique about the underlying geology. The final insect was hovering above the crew. Charley considered hurling one of her pellets but was keen to avoid collateral damage. Instead flanked the beast and fired both blasters from the rear of the battlefield, hoping to score a lucky headshot. The insect moved in short, sharp bursts which made landing a critical hit extremely difficult. Harry was lifted and thrown across the undergrowth. Gobs of green slime spurted in several directions but the no one received a direct hit.
“Hold its legs!” Gronko yelled above the general chaos.
Charley holstered her weapons and rushed forward. A pincer came flying toward her and she grabbed hold of it with lightning reflexes. Molly made a desperate dive for the other pincer, pulling the other way so the beast was splayed and vulnerable. Gronko rushed forward with his weapon, spearing the thing’s elongated torso. The squelching sound was music to Charley’s ears. A gaping hole had opened through the insect’s midriff from which a sickly yellow ichor gushed. The beast thrashed its pincers and Charley was forced to let go. It tried to fly away but careened straight into a tree, where it fell into a crumpled heap.
The Pirate Guild Page 26