“This is a stupid plan,” FIGJAM complained from her waist. “How the fuck do you think you can -”
“Shut up,” said Charley, lifting the PalBot and hurling it straight into the skylight. The chrome robot smashed straight through, shattering the brittle material. Charley was vaguely aware of explosions across the tarmac as she followed FIGJAM into the breach.
64
Charley’s blasters were raised before she hit the floor. Luckily, she dropped straight into a shower recess. Stepping over an indignant FIGJAM, she hustled through a doorway. The central barracks chamber was long and wide, but before Charley could process more detail she was confronted with a pair of marines. They were sans armor but still looked swarthy and powerful. Not needing her targeting computer at such close range, she pumped plasma into both. She flipped her visor down as the marines crumpled to the floor. A third marine was poised over her foot locker, no doubt reaching for a weapon. Charley gave her the same treatment, sending multiple blasts into her head. Anticipating return fire from further inside, the pirate captain tumbled behind a military-issue cot and fired over the top. She dropped another marine as Gronko charged through with his heavy flak gun rotating madly. The far wall was shredded in a blizzard of plaster and gobs of blood as marines were thrown backwards. At length the chaos subsided and the only sound was Gronko’s spinning barrel. Harry rushed forward to check adjoining rooms, pumping plasma into a marine fumbling with his weapon. Molly wasted two more Imperials in the galley before running a security perimeter.
“More marines inbound,” she reported from the window. Charley and the others assumed defensive positions behind cover and waited for the counter-attack. Two grenades rolled through the front door. Using his weapon’s push function, Gronko leaped forward and sent the little packages of death flying back from whence they came. A heat blast rolled through the barracks. Charley wasted no time in rushing to the door and firing at the survivors. She dropped two marines as the rest tried to withdraw. They were cut down by the rebel pincer movement Kovacs had promised earlier. Charley watched as a band of ragtag rebels knelt and fired their plasma rifles into the retreating marines. An enormous hangar was on fire beyond the battle, lending the dull, late afternoon sky an angry, orange hue.
“Copy that,” Charley said.
As the last of the Imperial marines were slaughtered by the rebel riflemen, a warning klaxon drew Charley’s attention. She could see the foredeck of the Imperial warship beyond the burning hangar. Entire platoons of marines were spilling onto the tarmac from the great vessel.
“They’re giving us everything they’ve got!” Harry exclaimed.
Charley swallowed. Those marines were wearing power armor like the ones up at Ghost Fort.
“Over here!” Gronko yelled. He was sitting inside a quad with a turret mounted on the back. “Let’s break through their ranks.”
Despite the extreme danger of the move, Charley agreed it might serve to unsettle the enemy. Ignoring Harry’s warnings, she climbed up to the turret and ordered the crazy renki to drive. Presumably determined to keep Charley alive, Molly leaped onto the back seat just in time. The quad surged across the airfield toward the distant battalion. The enemy infantry had formed a phalanx, a defensive stance that had stood the test of time. Charley fired indiscriminately into the throng. The turret fired heavy pulse bolts that could vaporize power armor on direct hits. Charley had no time to be delicate - within seconds she’d been in range of enemy pulse rifles. She pumped out fire at a rapid rate, not worried about overheating the unit. Several marines in the front tier fell. The disciplined soldiers behind them raised their weapons. The phalanx fired as one as the quad came within range. Pulse fire buffeted the quad’s front fender. One or two bolts glanced off Gronko’s thick armor. Charley was thin enough to enjoy a modicum of cover behind the turret, but if the quad changed direction she’d be completely exposed. A blizzard of pulse fire pounded the quad as they approached. Charley wondered how much they could withstand. Her life flashed before her eyes as Gronko turned the nitro-booster and the quad surged toward the enemy ranks.
“Yes!” she cried above all the noise. “Do it, Gronko!”
The quad ploughed through the marines, knocking them left and right. Charley continued to fire at point blank range, disintegrating entire sections of armor and eviscerating limbs. Although the quad had plenty of momentum, the marine ranks slowed it down. Eventually it flipped over and spun several times. The roll cage saved Charley and Molly from certain death, but they were still brutally knocked around. The quad finally came to a stop near the open troop portals at the base of the Imperial warship. Charley crawled from the smoking vehicle and considered her position. Gronko was firing from the driver’s seat, determined to go out fighting. A cheer rose from across the tarmac - a hundred rebels were rushing the phalanx. Charley and Gronko had succeeded in scattering the phalanx and exposing the enemy. The impossible had been achieved.
Charley’s position was vulnerable. Enemy marines were moving toward her position. She didn’t have the ability to take them all out. Clearly thinking along the same lines, Molly’s eyes flicked to the nearest troop portal. There was cover in there. Now that they’d survived their kamikaze run, why not take another bold risk?
“Let’s do it,” Charley decreed.
The women made a beeline for the portal. Shadows consumed them as they scurried through. They were confronted with a surprisingly small chamber notable only for its wall straps. It was an infantry pod, able to withstand orbital entry and deploy troops at high altitude. The airlock at the other end was shut. Charley knelt behind the edge of the portal and fired at the marines now massing at the flipped quad. Gronko cut down three enemies before they could reach the warship. The supporting fire dissuaded the enemy from running that particular gauntlet, but it also exposed Gronko to flanking fire. Rolling from the quad, the alien continued to fire into the phalanx. A clutch of marines renewed their attempt to reach the women. Charley had no choice but to close the pod doors. She hit the button and breathed a sigh of relief as the portal closed over. Molly waited, gun poised, but the marines apparently lacked the ability to reopen the pod from the other side. An explosion shook the vessel and Charley wished she had a visual. How was the battle outside faring?
“Let’s wait till reinforcements arrive,” Charley said.
“There were too many of them,” Molly agreed.
A slight hum gripped the walls of the pod.
“Did you feel that?” Charley asked.
“I did,” Molly said, looking around nervously. The hum was joined by a digital klaxon somewhere out on the tarmac.
“Maybe the rebels have torched another target?” Charley mused hopefully.
“No, ma’am,” Molly said in alarm. “The warship is taking off.”
It made sense, in a way. No matter which way the battle fell, the warship was far, far more useful in the air. With its sophisticated targeting systems, it might even be able to turn the tide of battle without undue collateral damage to people and property. Charley’s stomach lurched as the vessel lifted into the air. It was surreal to be launching within such a leviathan. She could only imagine the power required to lift the floating fortress off the ground.
Molly looked at Charley with professional calm. “Should we strap ourselves in?”
“Might be a good idea,” Charley agreed, securing herself to the wall. Watching the hull door intently, Molly followed suit.
“Do they keep life support running to these infantry pods?” Charley wondered aloud.
Molly frowned - they were about to find out. The pod shook as the warship gained altitude. The steady thrum of heavy lasers punctuated the grumble of the propulsion drive. The pod rocked savagely, then all was calm.
“We’ve broken orbit,” Molly said, unstrapping herself. “It’s likely the Emperor will wait until he has reinforcements.”
“I bet he wasn’t expecting that shitstorm,” Charley said with a chuckle.
“Anyone with brains would back the fuck off to the core worlds,” Molly returned.
“Maybe we can still encourage our fine Emperor to do just that,” Charley said thoughtfully.
“We’ve pushed our luck already,” Molly pointed out. “I was thinking we could just steal an escape pod and that would be that.”
“You know what we have, Molly?” Charley drawled. “A golden opportunity.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know a little about engines,” Charley said hesitantly. “The Abeya used used to race their damned speeders every other day.”
“A speeder is kinda different to an Imperial warship.”
“I know that fuel cells and coolant don’t mix at all,” Charley said defensively.
“And …?” Molly said, her eyes narrowing.
“We get a couple of uniforms and head down to the core engine,” Charley said. “You cause a distraction, I cripple them where it hurts. Do we have a plan?”
“I think it’s crazy,” Molly said. “But I’d follow you anywhere.”
65
Charley made sure her weapons were in order before trying the door that would hopefully admit to the warship’s main deck. It was stuck fast. The activation panel glowed red and stayed that way. Cursing, she and Molly looked for a bypass or override, anything, but there was nothing obvious.
“Looks like we’re stuck,” Charley said. “So much for our plan.”
“The lockdown might’ve been part of the launch protocol,” Molly said. “Now we’re in an orbital pattern, the lockdown should lift.”
“Sounds logical,” Charley said, leaning against the wall. “But it hasn’t happened yet.”
“You think the infantry pod could be released from here?”
“I doubt it,” Charley said glumly.
The pair spent the next half hour speculating about their situation. Charley felt in dire need of a shower. Earlier she’d traipsed through an underground tunnel in all kinds of muck. And that was before she’d even started battle. She wished she knew what was happening down at the spaceport. Surely the rebels had won the battle? The greatest victory of her pirate career, and she wasn’t even there to enjoy it. Molly searched the wall panels for food, but all she found were battle chem kits. A certain change in the background hum compelled Charley to try the door again. This time the activation panel glowed green and the door opened to reveal a simple chrome corridor.
The women took to the corridor carefully. This was clearly one of the riskiest phases of their plan. Without Imperial uniforms, they could be rounded up and shot at a moment’s notice. The corridor terminated at a T-intersection. They could either traverse the starboard hull or head deeper into the interior of the ship. The corridors were strangely quiet and empty, but then the Imperials had discharged the bulk of their troops on Frostfire. Charley chose to head deeper into the ship, peering into adjoining chambers as she went. Many contained armor pieces and technical maintenance gear. There was no point in wearing Imperial power armor - that would be as conspicuous as their civilian utility suits. The corridor branched left and right. A hot, humid waft came from the left.
“Air like that can only mean one thing,” Molly said, veering in that direction.
Sure enough, the pair came across a wash bay. Piles of freshly pressed uniforms lay on low benches. Three Imperial servants worked industrial pressers in a cloud of steam. It was too late to turn around, so Charley lifted two uniforms from the pile.
“These for women?” she asked one of the servants.
The servant nodded, looking at her curiously but holding his tongue. Hopefully these folk were too low in the food chain to question her presence. Heart in her mouth, Charley led Molly through the chamber and exited unchallenged. The women found a storage closet and changed into crisp, scarlet Imperial uniforms. The material was light and thin, befitting staff who spent most of their time in the safety of a warship. Molly’s uniform was tight, especially across her heavy bust, but it would have to do.
“You’ll have to leave your weapons, ma’am,” Molly said as they prepared themselves. Charley reluctantly stashed her sword and pirate pellets, but kept the blasters. She wondered if FIGJAM had survived the battle at the spaceport, feeling a pang of regret for throwing him into the barracks skylight like that.
“Which way now?” Molly asked as they emerged into the corridor and confidently walked past an Imperial officer. The women seemed to have their hair tied in buns, which made Charley and Molly stand out, but there was nothing they could do for now.
“We’re on the lower deck,” Charley said. “Propulsion, weapons, life support - all the heavy lifting should be down here.”
“I think red lines usually refer to propulsion and warp,” Molly said, noting the colored lines on the floor.
“Bring it,” Charley said with a smile, happy to follow the red.
The women passed several Imperials who second-glanced them, perhaps due to their flowing hair, but no alarm was raised. The ship was probably still in a state of upheaval after the calamitous invasion attempt on Frostfire. These military personnel had other things to worry about than a couple of unfamiliar women. At length the corridor opened out into a security desk backed by a force shield. Charley’s heart sank - there was no chance of being admitted to the engine house.
“I should’ve known,” Molly said angrily, slowing her pace.
Charley took her arm. “The only way is through,” she said determinedly. “Follow my lead.”
Two security personnel sat at the security desk. One looked up with mild disdain.
“Can I help you ladies?” he said with the trace of a leer. Charley instinctively hated men like that. He probably spent the day making lewd comments to his buddy to stave off the boredom of his post.
“I know a sleeper hold,” Molly muttered under her breath.
Charley could’ve kissed her bodyguard as she wandered round to the back of the men, pretending to look at their lightscreens.
“Been some unusual activity today,” she said calmly. “I’ll need copies of your log, please.”
66
It was human nature to shift into self-preservation mode in such situations.
“I wasn’t aware there would be an audit,” stammered the second man. “We haven’t had time to consolidate our files.”
“Then we can do it now,” Molly said, leaning over the first man’s shoulder. Her hand grasped his shoulder blade and tightened. It only took a second for the poor victim to drift forward, his head resting against the blinking dashboard.
The move was so slow, gentle and unexpected that the other man just gaped for a second before absorbing what had happened. Too long. Charley grabbed his head and bought it down hard against the edge of the dash. He was out cold before he hit the floor. Molly grabbed an ID and pressed it against an emergency bypass under the desk. The force field flickered and died.
“How did you know about that?” Charley asked.
“Twenty years on security, ma’am,” Molly said with a wink.
Charley followed her bodyguard through the deactivated force field and into the hot air of the engine room. A digital klaxon alarm resounded through the ship.
“Security scanners got us,” Molly said.
Charley handed Molly one of her blasters. The pair passed a series of generators before arriving at an observation panel overlooking the ship’s massive propulsion bulb. The rear wall was a concave bowl lined with electric blue grooves.
“Fuel lines,” Molly explained. “When the warship is in warp or running at high speed, this chamber is filled with a morpheus sphere.”
Charley knew morpheus spheres had something to do with the complex physics of warp speed, but that was the extent of her knowledge.
“
Do you have authorization?” came a voice from behind them.
An engineer emerged from a quantum server room off to starboard.
“We’re investigating a security breach,” Molly said without missing a beat. “Our men at the desk have been compromised.”
“Has anyone passed through here?” Charley added.
“The maintenance tunnels are empty,” the engineer said. “I just came from there.”
Charley almost licked her lips.
“Let’s head back to the security desk,” she suggested, gesturing for the engineer to go first. The man did so with a frown, but only got a few steps before Charley clubbed him over the head with her blaster butt.
“Into the quantum server,” Charley said quickly.
The women stepped through a softly whirring room lit by a panoply of glowing data nodes.
“Anything you can do here?” Charley asked Molly. “We need to keep moving.”
“I’m not familiar with quantum intelligence systems,” the bodyguard said. “But you’d be surprised at how much they dumb things down for engineers.”
Molly activated a lightscreen and dragged boxes of information around. At length her eyes lit up.
“I can run an exhaust dump,” she said. “It’s dangerous to trigger one while a warship is moving.”
“Do it,” Charley urged. “Security forces are en route.”
Molly’s fingers danced over the various data menus in front of her. A number of red warning messages flashed.
“What’s so dangerous about an exhaust dump?” Charley asked.
“If there’s no waste material to jettison and the propulsion bulb is active, the casing can rupture.”
Charley nodded, impressed. “That sounds appropriately bad. Get on with it.”
Molly grinned, her eyes glittering with excitement. She tapped one last data box with a flourish.
“Done,” she said. “The process has begun but may not accelerate for ten minutes or so.”
A hatch at the far end of the server admitted to a dark tunnel. Charley activated the door and entered without hesitation. The engine room would be filled with security within a minute. Guided by a dull light emanating from the floor, the women padded through the tunnel warily, At length they encountered a small chamber containing three storage lockers. The containers were inaccessible - probably DNA coded. Charley fired a gob of plasma into the top corner of the left locker, waited for it to cool, then prised it open using her gun barrel. There was an air suit inside. It was probably used for external maintenance tasks on the hull.
The Pirate Guild Page 31