The Pirate Guild

by Steven J Shelley

  “We’ve spooked them,” Harry said enthusiastically. “For the first time Galactus will be wondering if he has enough men for this invasion. Bringing his command ship alone was arrogant. He never took into account the power of farmers and scroungers who have no love for him.”

  Deep in thought, Charley watched the feed. There still seemed to be an awful lot of Imperials on Frostfire.

  “They’re consolidating,” Harry said. “Our victory here has made him cautious.”

  Charley felt hope rise like a flower. “Can we press home the advantage?” she asked. “Evict Galactus from Frostfire?”

  “Maybe,” Kovacs said, walking up behind them. “Long range scanners suggest that Galactus can’t receive reinforcements for at least seven days. Even then, all he will get is a few cruisers. He miscalculated what he would require.”

  Charley was overjoyed with the news.

  “We should pull together local militia groups and survivors from across the plain,” Harry said, not to be outdone by Kovacs. “We can head south in a convoy and form a ring around Ottova.”

  Kovacs nodded. “I’ll put out a call on the general com channel. We can recruit folks as we head south. Let’s use the rest of the day to pool our resources.”

  “But should we leave the fort?” Charley asked, worried about abandoning such an effective stronghold.

  Kovacs shrugged. “I’ll be leaving a few men to man the missile turrets. But if we want Galactus off the planet, we’ll need to tighten the noose around Ottova.”

  “Makes sense,” Charley said quietly as the bodies of the dead were dragged in to be counted.

  “Eight in total,” Kovacs said in answer to Charley’s unspoken question. “They died well. Very well.”

  Charley took a moment to honor the dead. It was difficult to witness the raw grief of those who had lost loved ones, but she offered words of support wherever she could.

  Soon it came time to prepare for the morrow. Charley collected her gear and went to see about transport. Apparently Kovacs had repaired and maintained two trucks which were kept in a garage off the inner courtyard. They were a good start, but more were needed to ferry everyone across the plain. She talked to the Scantia refugees, who knew of an old refinery that housed a number of similar trucks. Some could conceivably be repaired and made functional. With Kovacs’s blessing, Charley dispatched a team of scroungers to locate the vehicles. In theory, they would be back by the morning.

  Kovacs also organized a hunting party to accumulate provisions for the journey south. Harry offered to lead the party, eager to stretch his legs in the wild. The old man had energy to burn, but Charley knew when she was defeated. She bade her crew goodnight, eager to rest and recharge.

  The early morning delivered welcome news - Kovacs’s scrappers had returned with seven functional trucks. They also had a load of fuel cells, which was a huge bonus. Seven trucks would barely fit the refugees let alone the supplies, but they would make do. The trucks were lined up in the courtyard and loaded with personnel. It was decided that mothers and children would stay in the relative safety of the keep under the watchful guard of a skeleton garrison.

  In the end, one hundred and thirty prime fighting rebels were seated on the flatbeds and ready to travel. Enough provisions to last several weeks had also been packed. Charley and her crew were to travel in the vanguard of the convoy. She climbed into the cabin of the leading truck and tapped the ceiling for luck. Harry smiled at her superstition and accelerated slowly through the courtyard. Kovacs was traveling at the rear of the line. Vanessa and Molly smiled at Charley as the truck trundled out over one of the few tracts of ice left on the river. Progress south was solid. The trucks had winter tires that chewed the snow without difficulty.

  The convoy reached the forbidding Hanov Pass at noon. Charley’s truck was the first to pass through. The sheer rock walls to either side were much larger than Charley had anticipated. Following a nerve-shredding few minutes during which the convoy was completely open to ambush, the rebel host broke through into lightly wooded terrain. Harry followed a worn track through the pale yanom trees. It weaved and slithered through the Teroni Foothills, where much of their early momentum was lost. Charley was disappointed to see darkness gathering before they’d even descended to the Kingston Riverina to the south.

  The convoy made camp within the trees and spent an uncomfortable night wondering whether the Imperials would detect them. Once or twice Charley actually heard the sound of a drone high overhead. Camp was broken quickly in the morning and they were off again. By mid-morning, the Teroni Foothills had been cleared and the convoy crossed a succession of bridges in the Kingston Riverina. The landscape was pale with snow but showed signs of gradual rehabilitation. For starters, the region was in a reasonably temperate band of latitude and the wide Sadore floodplain made farming a solid venture. In fact, the area was once the grain silo of the entire northern hemisphere. Ottova itself was once the largest city on Frostfire. Now it was mostly a ruin, but that hadn’t stopped Galactus from repairing the spaceport and establishing a robust fortification there.

  Once the convoy began rolling through the satellite towns of Ottova, the rebels were faced with a tricky situation. They’d seen more than one drone fly overhead - there could be no doubt the Imperials knew of their presence. Several of the trucks had scanners that could theoretically provide a thirty second warning of a missile’s approach. In that event, the convoy would split into varying segments and continue south. Three of the trucks had been built to combat aerial threats and sported functional AA turrets. They weren’t much use offensively, but they could deploy intelligent decoy chaff, drawing missiles away from their intended target.

  The convoy was rolling through a small town called Gerida when the long range scanners issued a series of missile warnings. Harry pressed down on the accelerator, looking to separate from the other trucks. He needn’t have worried - the missile detonated against decoy chaff some two hundred yards above their heads. Despite evading the attack, Charley found the experience unnerving. The convoy eventually came to a halt on the outskirts of Ottova and was forced to scramble against two further missile attacks.

  “They can’t do that forever,” Harry observed. “They’re just wasting missiles.”

  Charley stepped from the truck for a conference with her comrades. Kovacs rushed up from the back of the convoy. He watched the surrounding buildings carefully, perhaps concerned about enemy snipers.

  “I sent a coded transmission last night,” he said. “We have several hundred rebels converging on this position.”

  Charley nodded, welcoming the prospect of reinforcements.

  “And the city?”

  “There’s resistance here,” Kovacs replied. “A community of scroungers. The Imperials firebombed their sanctuary and they were forced out into the woods. They’re en route also.”

  “What does that give us?” Charley asked.

  “Perhaps more than five hundred,” Harry said hopefully. “Depends on the gear we acquire in Ottova.”

  “Leave that to me,” Kovcas said. “Our drones suggest the Imperials have pulled their ground forces into the spaceport. Conventional wisdom suggests we acquire a fleet of firebirds for an air attack.”

  “Good luck with that,” Harry said. “That warship would turn firebirds into scrap metal.”

  “Exactly,” Kovacs said a little impatiently. “Which is why we’re planning to head underground.”

  “Go on,” Harry said, his interest piqued.

  Kovacs activated a city projection from his wrist pad.

  “A man known as The Tinker runs the scrapping operation in Ottova,” he said. “He knows of an intricate series of tunnels under the spaceport. They were once used to steal supplies from the Imperial base.”

  Charley looked at the web-like series of tunnels and saw vast potential in exploiting them for a surprise attack.

  “Five hundred rebels appearing where they’re least expected could cause quite a st
ir,” she said.

  “If we pick our targets, yes,” Harry said. “We need to know where the Imperials have housed their armory, barracks and command post.”

  “My thinking too,” Kovacs said. “All we can do is run careful reconnaissance once we’re down there.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Charley said. “Where’s the nearest entrance?”

  “First thing’s first,” Kovacs said. “The Tinker’s on his way.”

  63

  The convoy settled itself. The trucks were parked under abandoned shop front awnings on a quiet side street. Before long, Kovacs’s attention was drawn to the interior of a shattered kiosk. Charley followed him through the shadowy doorway and was confronted with a huge man in a strange battle suit. The material was constructed from various bits of scrap metal and fashioned brilliantly into a multi-layered walker. As far as Charley could tell, there were no obvious weak points or joins. Walking in the thing would be a bitch, but the protection rating would be through the roof. The Tinker’s head and shoulders were pale and hairless. He peered at Charley with pink, rheumy eyes. A jagged scar dominated his forehead and ran down the side of his head.

  “Got your transmission,” he growled to Kovacs. “It’s time to make a move.”

  “Agreed, Tinker,” Kovacs said respectfully. “I have a hundred well-armed rebels at my back and there’s hundreds more on their way.”

  “You’re all targets out here in the open,” the Tinker said. “I’ll coordinate an underground insertion.”

  “Copy that. Do you have a tunnel map we can follow?”

  “Transferring now,” the Tinker said. Charley noticed an off-sider tapping at her wrist pad.

  “We’ll occupy the sluice tunnels, near the western perimeter of the spaceport,” the Tinker announced. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready to coordinate the attack.”

  It wasn’t a request. Kovacs nodded, glancing at Charley. She saw no problem with the plan, but sensed that this “Tinker” liked to run his own show. She could understand that, as long as the master scrounger could be depended upon when the time came. Kovacs established a secure channel with the Tinker’s offsider before leaving with her.

  “That was too easy,” she commented as the pair returned to the convoy.

  “Don’t read too much into it,” Kovacs assured her. “Regional politics is complex. I have a feeling the spaceport is the Tinker’s main source of scrap and circuitry. Remember, traders stopped coming to Frostfire decades ago. These people have been cut off from their homes. I’m sure the Tinker just wants the Imperials evicted as soon as possible.”

  Charley nodded. When Kovacs put it like that it made more sense.

  “Do you trust him?”

  “No,” Kovacs said with a grin. “But he hates the Imperials more than he hates us. We can use that to our advantage.”

  Charley was happy to go with the underground option. Unless the rebels miraculously came across a fleet of stealth bombers, they weren’t going to have much luck with a direct assault. Using the Tinker’s coordinates, Kovacs directed the convoy further south, away from the city center and the spaceport. At length they came across a culvert straddling an overgrown tunnel entrance. Stabbed by deserted apartment buildings, the neighborhood was grim and desolate. Local teenage gangs appeared high on some kind of despicable drug. Unwilling to confront an armed force, the youths were content to mouth obscenities and remain in the shadows.

  “Our entry point,” Kovacs said as he stepped from the truck’s cabin. He briefed the other truck drivers before climbing back in. Grinding metal echoed from the tunnel - the Tinker was opening the entrance remotely. The trucks rolled through the hanging creepers and into the tunnel proper. Kovacs engaged his fog lights and a long, straight westward passage was revealed. The trucks rumbled over centuries-old masonry for a few miles before the tunnel narrowed into a dank walk space. Charley and her crew alighted from the vehicles and readied their weapons. The tunnel was bitterly cold, even by Frostfire standards. Her breath was visible as she addressed her crew.

  “Soft march, single file,” she whispered. “Listen out for further instructions.”

  Kovacs offered to stay behind to help organize the rest of the rebels.

  “I’ll transmit waypoints as I receive them,” he promised.

  Charley took her first tentative steps down the tunnel. The ground felt squelchy and soft. Some kind of moss was visible in the near-dark, but it was difficult to tell. After a mile or two of straight tunnel, it dog-legged south. Shin-deep groundwater had risen to the surface here. As the tunnel bore south the water deepened. At length the water had reached Charley’s waist and her progress slowed considerably. The muck clung to her suit and felt uncomfortably cold.

  “Wait,” Harry said at her shoulder. Charley froze. Something was moving in the water. Harry pulled her back just as a set of elongated jaws burst from the surface. The jaws found nothing but air as they snapped shut. The reptilian beast sank out of sight. Harry tracked the ripples carefully and fired a few shots. The water resumed its slick, glassy face.

  “Mind if I take point for a while?” Harry asked.

  “If you must,” Charley said. She was a little annoyed to be patronized but Harry was only trying to protect her.

  The rebels continued south. The water mercifully dropped to knee level after a while. The tunnel veered west and solid ground greeted them once more. The passage also widened out to around twelve yards. Adjoining tunnels branched north and south, but the rebels stuck to the main tunnel. Kovacs would’ve advised Charley if he wanted the party to deviate. The crew made solid progress over the next two hours. Kovacs’s voice pierced the gloomy dark, instructing the pirates to turn north in three hundred and fifty yards. Charley found a narrow, crumbling passage and took it without question. The crew passed through a number of larger chambers, some of them containing crates of gear covered in waterproof tarpaulins. There was no time to investigate the goods. Besides, it wouldn’t be prudent to anger the local scroungers. Another hour was spent negotiating a twisting, turning labyrinth of tunnels. Charley occasionally thought she heard the bellowing exhaust typical of a major port facility. Might they have reached the spaceport? She hoped so, as the pirates’ speed had dropped slightly and everyone looked beat.

  Kovacs said voice over the com.

  “Affirmative.”

  Charley looked around. There were no doors, but there was a hatch in the roof. It looked like it hadn’t been used for years. Charley was tempted to let Gronko rip it free but she didn’t want to compromise the mission. If the Imperials detected them, the entire operation was a bust.

  “I guess we wait,” Charley shrugged. She wished she had something more positive to say, but everyone just wanted to sit down and eat a protein bar anyway. In the silence that followed it was easier to discern the distant noises above them. A cruiser was launching alongside a ‘clear the decks’ warning tone. Charley tuned into the coded com channel Kovacs and the Tinker were using. From their ongoing dialog she gleaned that the rebels were almost in position. Charley was uncertain about the lack of detail. How many rebels were there in total? She doubted even Kovacs or the Tinker would know for sure. There might be thousands of rebels crammed into the dank tunnels. And where exactly was Charley positioned? It would help a great deal if her crew knew what to expect when they reached the surface. Kovacs clearly believed they could handle themselves without too many reinforcements.

  the scrounger said over the com.

  “I’m here. We’re waiting at the last waypoint.”

  Kovacs said.

  “Copy that,” Charley said. “Good luck out there.”

 

  Charley lowered her w
rist pad and took a deep breath, finally preparing herself for battle. The others readied their weapons and looked tense. She signaled for Gronko to lead the attack. The big renki yanked on the hatch handle and pulled the entire slab off in a shower of rust. Charley waved the dust away and received a leg boost from Harry. She clung to the edge of the hole and hauled herself through. From there she was able to help the others. Once that was done, she stood at the bottom of a vertical shaft that rose twenty yards to a trapdoor. Charley was the first up, eager to lead her crew into battle. She shoved open the trapdoor with some difficulty - it was covered in a layer of snow. Crouching in the open, she was buffeted by a cold wind from the south. She scurried to a small, fenced enclosure that housed the generator powering the barracks. The mesh fence provided a modicum of cover, which was just as well - a marine parade was marching in tight formation on the tarmac barely forty yards away. Charley focused on the building behind her - the barracks didn’t have any windows or obvious entry points.

  “How do we get in?” Charley asked her comrades as they positioned themselves along the barracks wall. Harry replaced the trap door and covered it with snow.

  “Through the roof,” growled Gronko, looking at the building like a feral beast eying its prey.

  “Boost me,” Charley commanded the renki. She grabbed the edge of the flat building and hauled herself up. As long as he remained prone, she had cover from a low balustrade along the edge of the roof. A skylight was set into the northeastern corner. Charley shimmied towards it as her crew climbed up behind her.