Spineward Sectors 03 Admiral's Tribulation

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Suffic shook his head in disgust. “Get out of my sight and catch back up with your unit,” he snarled, following this sage advice with a swift kick in the hind quarters to hurry the over-motivated young Lancer on his way.

  Seeing her chance, Akantha inserted herself into the flow headed into the gundeck.

  The first thing she noted was that the guns weren’t firing. The second was the flashing back and forth of blaster and plasma rounds, with the occasional heavy stun rifle thrown in.

  Despite a serious lack of power armor, the pirates on this deck seemed determined to make a fight of it. She found this out the hard way when a gravity load lifter came screaming around the corner. Battlesuits were knocked over, pushed to the side and in a few cases simply run over as the pirate driving the conveyance cackled insanely.

  Leveling her blaster rifle, she fired at the pirate to no effect, with the rounds of her rifle splattering against some kind of miniature force-field that replaced the more traditional forward facing window of those grav-carts that came so equipped back on the Clover. With only moments left, Akantha drew herself into side profile with Bandersnatch fully extended. The tip of her blade pointed right at the face of the madly cackling pirate astride his death machine.

  The pirate opened his mouth, his metal-studded tongue lolling out in her direction as the load lifter adjusted aim ever so slightly so that it came straight at her.

  Sparks flew when her sword encountered the force-field, and without her power-enhanced musculature, Bandersnatch would have been jerked out of her hand. Instead, her feet started skidding backwards on the ship’s decking and her legs wobbled.

  Suddenly there was an explosion on the side of the cart and the miniature shield failed. Her sword shot forward, stabbing into the pirate through his still protruding tongue, which she must have unconsciously been aiming for, and then coming out through the side of his upper neck.

  Then the laws of motion caught up with her and the load lifter slammed into her torso. Unable to keep her footing, Akantha stumbled and fell beneath the load lifter. The force of its passage as it came over top of her was punishing. There followed a crash as the heavy load lifter slammed into a wall. Unfortunately, she’d been too close to that very same wall when it hit and so when it came to a halt she was still underneath it.

  She tried to move, to get out from underneath the death machine but couldn’t manage to do anything more than clench and unclench her muscles.

  The weight and pressure that up until now she had considered merely restrictive slowly became oppressive as the heavy machine rocked back and forth, still recovering from its impact with the wall.

  Being trapped like this reminded her of the demonic Hell Ship where Jason had freed her. She felt a sense of panic take hold as she remembered the strap which had pinned her to the wall of the Bug vessel, and she found herself struggling to control her breathing. There was a tugging sensation and then the sword leapt from her hand. A loud clang came from outside the undercarriage of this death machine.

  The death machine started shifting from side to side, each movement placing increased pressure on her torso. Then something started tugging on her legs.

  Slowly at first and then with increased force as the power of the machine suddenly assisted in ejecting her from underneath it, she emerged from beneath its massive bulk. With a final tug, she went flying into the air a good three feet before landing on her back with a thump.

  Glancing down almost undid her when seeing a grappling line around her feet, she let her head thump back to the ground. Gasping for air, the next thought to enter her head was the sword. Eyes which had been half closed as she tried to recover from the beating she had just received snapped wide open.

  Routine gasps for air turned into a gurgle as her fingers clawed in the air for purchase to help her get up.

  It was only when the hilt of a sword, her sword, was placed into a wildly clutching hand that she calmed down. Shaking her head to clear it, she gave the member of her honor guard who had returned the blade a grateful look.

  Her eyes widened and then her eyebrows lowered thunderously when she saw the person who’d most likely handed her back Bandersnatch to be none other than that slimy little skunk weasel in human form of a pilot.

  The man had a sickly cast to his features and clutched a deadly looking plasma rifle in his two hands as if it was a life line.

  A member of her Honor Guard, a real member, showed up and offered her a hand. Grasping it, she regained her feet before stamping her foot in frustration. There was still some fighting taking place further down the gun deck in either direction, but the pirates were clearly losing and just as clearly, there were too many warriors already finishing their foes for her to find any action. Especially not with the group of wet-nurses Suffic had assigned to her Honor Guard hanging around her like a cast iron weight.

  Had she not known better, she would have suspected he had deliberately saddled her with most unaggressive, least glory-hungry warriors in the entire contingent!

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said in disgust, “it appears our part in this action is done.”

  “As you command, Hold Mistress,” replied the current leader of her Honor Guard. She’d insisted on that part at least; she wasn’t going to be stuck with some senior stick in the mud Starborn as the head of her personal guard, not unless she made that decision all on her own and for her very own reasons.

  “Where can a Lady go to find a fight around here,” she demanded in frustration.

  Her guards shared a glance.

  “The Marines have been struggling to take and hold Main Engineering. Word on the Comm is they are sending reinforcements,” said the head Lancer in her Honor Guard.

  “Do you think we can get there first,” she asked, trying to suppress any eagerness from sounding in her voice.

  Her Guard frowned. “It's possible,” he said slowly.

  “If we hurry,” added Isis, one of the few female warriors in the group.

  “Suffic’s has this under control,” Akantha said, a hungry smile creeping over her face. With an imperious gesture she gathered her guards around her and hurried back they way they’d just came.

  “I hope they get there first,” muttered the shuttle pilot.

  “What?” demanded Akantha.

  “Nothing, just a cough,” he replied, smacking his chest for dramatic effect.

  Chapter 38: The Gun Deck is Ours

  “Why the blazes weren’t you firing at our ship,” Suffic demanded, lifting the pirate in his grasp up by the collar, “I can see she’s still firing at you!”

  The pirate petty officer, or at least the closest thing to a petty officer they had over here on the old Armor Prince gave him a bloody, gap toothed smile.

  “Cap’n said to hold fire,” he gurgled, somehow managing to spray blood out of his mouth and into the Suffic’s open visor.

  “Why, blast you?” Suffic asked, shaking the pirate like a rag doll.

  “The Blood Lord’s already on your ship,” the pirate said with a laugh, “she’s taken and you don’t even know it,” he howled with laughter.

  The laughter cut off mid-howl with a sickening crack.

  Colonel Suffic realized he’d unconsciously applied too much strength and with a grimace, he released the body.

  “Find me another Officer,” he ordered flatly, then scanned the area one more time. The mopping up of this gun deck was almost complete.

  “Yes, Sir,” said the Tracto-an Captain of the Company he was currently imbedded with.

  “And someone try to raise the Admiral,” he suddenly shouted. “I’ve got important intel to relay.”

  He watched with deep satisfaction as all around him, Lancers hopped to obey. Then he froze in mid step and took another harder look around. Everything was as it should be, but not as it usually was.

  “Where’s the thorn in my side,” he demanded, rounding on his adjutant.

  “Wh-What Colonel,” stammered the other man. />
  “You know, the one person who never stops issuing demands,” he clarified.

  At the continued look of stupidity on the face of his Adjutant, Suffic rolled his eyes.

  “Akantha,” he said urgently, “where has that crazy Lady gotten herself off to now, you fool!”

  The Adjutant’s eyes widened and he immediately got on his communicator and started talking rapidly.

  With a sinking heart, Suffic realized she must have given him the slip during the general melee to take the deck.

  “Sir, we’ve got another one for you,” said the Company Captain.

  For half a moment, the Colonel hoped he was talking about Akantha, but the sight of another broken up pirate quickly crushed that flight of fancy.

  “Someone find the Hold Mistress,” he barked, causing the rest of the Lancers around him to jump and start looking at fallen comrades in hopes of turning her up.

  Giving himself a shake, Hansel Suffic turned to the new prisoner.

  “You’re going to tell me everything you know about this Blood Lord of yours and any plans he has to take our ship,” he said grimly. The pirate in front of him, now held up by virtue of two lancers, one on either side, stared at him and shivered.

  Two minutes later Suffic had squeezed out everything the pirate knew about his top commander’s plans, which wasn’t much. As a final offering the pirate, desperate to keep breathing, had offered to show him a picture of this Blood Lord.

  “I can still be of use,” begged the pirate.

  “I’m done with him,” Suffic said shortly; he had more important things to do than interrogate some nearly clueless mushroom.

  “Should we dispose of him out the air lock, Sir,” asked the Lancer, referring to the traditional punishment for pirates.

  “Wait-wait, I can show you an image of the Blood Lord,” pleaded the pirate, “it’s saved in my hand held!”

  “I doubt it’s anything I need to see,” Suffic said dismissively and motioned for the Lancers to take him away, by pointing in the general region of the airlock.

  “I have bios with pictures of each of the fleet’s top commanders,” squealed the former pirate officer as he was dragged away.

  Suffic hesitated, then strode over to the man, “On you? You have these images on you,” he demanded.

  Nodding his head like some kind of old style bobblehead, the pirate fell all over himself signaling agreement.

  Intel they would likely be able to use later and, at the very least with the pictures, they’d be able know if one of the top pirates was captured later on. So he or she could be sure to receive their just deserts.

  “Show me,” demanded Suffic, indicating his lancers were to release the other man. They grimaced but obeyed orders.

  “Here,” said the man pulling out a battered looking hand held and flipping through it. The Pirate then thrust it at the Lancer Colonel, “See, just like I promised you, it is.”

  Suffic flicked is thumb from page to page, seeing just the usual run of the mill heavily modified, metal faced scum. The same as the rest of the general run of the mill pirates he’d seen on this ship so far, except perhaps their leaders tended to have a higher grade adornments implanted into their persons.

  Then his thumb froze in recognition, it was a member of the Tuttle family. “Connor Tuttle,” whispered in recognition, then his eyes widened. “Impossible,” he muttered under his breath, rapidly flipping through the images on the screen, “The man just went rogue, there’s no possible way—” his voice trailed off into a deathly rattle.

  There, under the heading of Blood Lord, Supreme Pirate Commander was a face that Capria of Old had known quite well. One of her most favored of royal sons, now apparently gone bad.

  “Jean Luc,” Suffic said in disbelief. Then his face hardened. Suddenly, the outrageous tales told by his prisoners seemed more believable not less.

  “Adjutant,” he said hoarsely, then repeated it with growing strength.

  “What, Sir,” asked his Adjutant.

  “Order two squads detached to hold the Gun Deck, and then instruct every Company Commander within range to form up on my position,” he said harshly.

  “Are we going after the Hold Mistress,” asked his Adjutant looking concerned.

  “Akantha’s just going to have to see to herself,” he said shaking his head abruptly, “we have to move fast.”

  “But, Sir, we’ve just managed to locate her. The signal is intermittent, but it seems she’s heading down towards Main Engineering, along with a number of Marine reinforcements,” protested the Adjutant at this sudden change in plans.

  Suffic hesitated, “Do we have anyone near her who we can send for back up,” he asked. He turned and started yelling at Lancers more concerned with looting pirate bodies than getting back into formation.

  “Only two companies of Lyconese, Sir,” the Adjutant replied doubtfully.

  “Instruct them to go to her assistance. The rest of our Lancers are to be given a new assignment,” Suffic said decisively. Around him, the Tracto-an Lancers looked at each other in dismay but the Colonel deliberately ignored them. Lady Akantha had managed to get herself into yet another pickle with her constant pursuit of combat, and this time she could just go and get herself right back out.

  Events were taking place outside this ship that needed his direct and personal attention. The best place to be if what he feared was about to happen went down was on the Bridge of this ship!

  “Come on, you ugly sods,” he shouted in frustration, “the rest of us don’t have time for your dithering,” he turned to the Company Captain.

  “Captain, are your men ready to follow me to their new assignment,” he snapped, staring him in the eye.

  “Of course, Colonel Suffic,” the Captain said confidently.

  “Then let’s go,” Suffic barked, setting off with long corridor eating strides.

  “Our orders, Sir,” asked the Captain.

  “Don’t stop until we have the Bridge,” Suffic said flatly.

  Chapter 39: Those Traitorous Marines!

  “I’m registering a large number of power-armored figures up ahead, My Lady,” reported one of the more technically inclined members of her honor guard, stereotypically it was one of the Starborn.

  “Pirates,” Akantha asked, delighted with this turn of events.

  “From the readouts they look more like…Marine Jacks, My Lady,” said the technician.

  Akantha scowled. “Well, what are they doing,” she said with a sigh.

  “It looks like they are all stopped outside of Main Engineering,” he reported.

  “Let us hope they haven’t succeeded in mopping up all the Star Bandits in Engineering, or this trip will have been for nothing,” she said with a sigh.

  “You call blasting over twenty armed pirates on the way down here nothing,” protested the Shuttle Pilot in a rising voice.

  “The only battlesuit we encountered was using the one you’re wearing right now,” she said scornfully, “the rest were mere fodder for our guns.”

  “My Lady, the first of the Marines is just up ahead,” informed the Star-born Lancer.

  “Send out the friend or foe signal,” she commanded imperiously.

  “It does that automatically,” reminded the technically proficient member of her staff, “that’s why they don’t register as enemies on your battle screen.”

  “Right,” she said stiffly, remembering to activate her own battle screen, “then let’s introduce ourselves.”

  However, instead of greeting her group of warriors with open arms, the Marine Jacks blocking her way further down the hall stiffened at the sight of her and the back row turned around, lowering their weapons.

  “What is the meaning of this,” Akantha demanded in a clear, carrying and most importantly ringing voice authority, drawing herself up stiffly. While all around her, her own men had their weapons aimed at the marines.

  The two groups of men were staring at one another like opposing packs of angry
attack dogs.

  “Now that his Puppet is in trouble of losing the very Brigade Command that just got a lot of good Marines killed, the Montagne whelp sends his woman to prop him up,” cried a faint voice from further up the corridor.

  “What is the meaning of this outrage,” she demanded coldly, “shoulder your weapons.”

  “Surrender your weapons, and you won’t be harmed,” said one of the Marines in a low voice, pointing a blaster rifle at her.

  “Surrender or be slaughtered by my Lancers,” snarled Akantha, infuriated at the insult.

  “Long live Parliament, you blasted Montagne lover,” sneered the Marine, “now on your knees, hands behind your head.”

  “Clearly you haven’t the slightest clue who you’re dealing with,” Akantha said in a stiff imperious voice.

  “Don’t be a fool, we’ve got you outnumbered, Lady,” scoffed the Marine, “if you even qualify for the title.”

  “Watch out, she’s insane,” called the shuttle pilot.

  “I won’t warn you again,” Akantha said evenly, “Starborn, turn their signals to hostile on our network.”

  “Your funeral,” sneered the Marine.

  Suddenly, weapons fire sounded down the corridor and as if this were a signal, her Honor Guard activated their plasma grenades and tossed them at the Marines.

  Marines swore, “Montagne lick boots,” and returned fire with their blaster weapons.

  “Messene,” screamed Akantha, one arm up to guard her face plate and the other wielding Bandersnatch high and behind her head, readying it for a brutal overhand strike just as soon as she closed.

  Several spheres of molten plasma exploded amongst the marines in that part of their formation facing Akantha and co.

  “Capria,” cried the disagreeable Marine who thought it a good idea to insult her, drawing a boarding axe.

  Unfortunately for him, his version of the boarding axe was not made out of Imperial mono-Locsium.

  With a savage grin, Akantha unleashed Bandersnatch. The marine tried to block, but her skill with a blade was superior and with a deft move, her blade cut into the haft of the weapon he was holding, passing into and then through it. Sadly, the force of her blow was stopped just enough that when Bandersnatch landed on the top of his head, it failed to cleave through, instead making a loud clang.