by Jason Fry
His thoughts kept creeping back to the pact he had struck with Carlo, in that last hour before his death. But he refused to interrupt his mother’s grief to tell her what he had planned to confess—or to sully her memory of Carlo by revealing what his brother had done.
Grasping for something to do that had a purpose, he decided to find a holo of Carlo for the crypt at Darklands. He told Vesuvia to search her memory banks for possibilities, and was looking at candidates on his mediapad when Yana entered the cuddy, red-faced and sweaty from her latest combat session.
“Not that one,” Yana said, peering at an image of Carlo smiling in a formal tunic, before he got his scar. “Something more serious. Maybe from a piloting sim.”
“Vesuvia should have some of those. I’ll show you what I find.”
Yana hesitated.
“What happens now, Tyke? To any of us?”
“I have no idea. Mom’s refused to even read the Defense Force’s messages. But I assume our letter of marque is gone.”
“We don’t need one for what I have planned.”
“And what’s that?”
“Find Mox, of course. Find him and kill him.”
“With what ship?”
“We’ll go to 588 Achilles. We can get a ship and crew there.”
“A pair of sixteen-year-old privateers? Who’d sign on with us?”
Yana shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. This way we find Mox before he finds us. Or finds you, anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been thinking about how to tell you. I watched the security vid from Bazaar. There’s audio. It’s faint, but I’ve pulled up fainter signals while running sensors. It took some doing, but I was able to isolate it and enhance it.”
She pulled out her mediapad, but Tycho shook his head.
“I don’t want to see that. Not now and not ever.”
“You think I wanted to? I made an audio file. It’s just the parts you need to hear. Not the rest.”
Tycho wanted to protest but found that he couldn’t. His sister had found something—and if she said he needed to hear it, he believed her.
Tycho knew he’d hear the scraped-throat growl of Thoadbone Mox, but he still jumped at the sound of that voice, garbled and faint but recognizable.
“. . . other two brats. Take the girl alive, but shoot the boy if you find him.”
The reply was inaudible beneath the bang of a shutter.
“They won’t interfere,” Mox replied, and Tycho’s hands balled into fists at the glee in his voice. “All but gave us an invitation.”
“Wait,” Tycho said, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “What did he say?”
Yana played it again, then let the transmission continue.
“We just have to be out of here before the constables arrive,” Mox said. “And they never do nothing quickly.”
The file ended. Yana looked questioningly at Tycho.
“What did that mean about someone not interfering?”
“I don’t know,” Tycho said, though that wasn’t true. He tried to hide his fury, fearing Yana would see it. But his sister was staring down at the mediapad, brows furrowed.
“And why would Mox want to take me alive?” she asked. “Why am I different?”
“I don’t know that either,” Tycho said, telling the truth this time.
Yana pushed her mediapad aside, her thoughts her own.
“You’re serious about going to 588 Achilles,” Tycho said after a few moments, and Yana’s eyes returned to his.
“I am. Like I said, I’m getting a crew and finding Mox.”
“Grandfather will be there—it’s the only place he could have gone.”
His sister’s expression turned hard. “Then he can help. It won’t bring Carlo back, but he owes him that much. He owes us that much.”
Tycho stared at the images of Carlo on his screen. “And Mom and Dad?”
“They’re not going to let Mom fly for a long time, if ever. You know that. They may never let any of us fly again.”
Tycho nodded.
“I’m sorry, Tyke. It’s strange how it worked out. You were going to be captain, and now none of us will be.”
Tycho turned away. His sister didn’t know the secret he and Carlo had shared, and what they’d planned to do.
Tell her. If you can’t tell Mom, at least tell her.
But to his shame, he found he couldn’t do it.
He reached halfheartedly for the screen of his mediapad to look for more images of Carlo. But Yana leaned forward and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look up.
“You’re not going to be captain, and neither am I,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean we have to spend the rest of our lives as dirtsiders, Tyke. There’s another way. Come with me to Achilles and we’ll find it. Together.”
His sister’s grip was surprisingly strong.
“All right,” Tycho said, putting his hand over hers. “Together.”
Two days later the Comet eased into her docking cradle above Callisto. Tycho and Yana mustered out the crew, thanking them for their service and their kind words, and then returned to the quarterdeck, where Mavry was sitting in silence at his console. He raised his eyes and nodded at them, fetched Diocletia from the top deck, and then piloted the gig down in silence.
A grim-faced Defense Force officer was waiting at Port Town’s transportation hub, flanked by two soldiers.
“Captain Diocletia Hashoone?” she asked.
“I knew you’d be here,” Diocletia said.
“You are charged with piracy, illegal destruction of property, and unauthorized hostile action against a sovereign regime. Such charges are a violation of your family’s letter of marque, which is hereby declared null and void, and your performance bond as a privateer is now forfeit.”
Diocletia simply nodded and stepped forward, arms outstretched so they could handcuff her. But the official shook her head.
“That won’t be necessary at the present time, Captain Hashoone. By order of Minister Vass, you are to consider yourself under house arrest pending resolution of this matter. You are forbidden to leave your homestead without specific permission from the Defense Force. Are these conditions clear, and do you agree to abide by them?”
Diocletia nodded. The official turned and signaled to the soldiers, who strode away.
Parsons, to his dismay, didn’t know how to access the program that added holograms to the family crypt—he explained that Huff had always insisted on handling such things.
Tycho wasn’t going to ask his parents or Carina, and Yana was in the simulation room fighting imaginary enemies. So he descended to the gloomy chamber alone, connected his mediapad with the hologram pedestal, and began struggling with the unfamiliar controls.
Machinery whined inside the pedestal, and the image of Johannes Hashoone shimmered into existence. Tycho glared at his great-grandfather. He’d been a thief and a murderer, and it offended Tycho to think of him immortalized alongside Carlo.
But then, Carlo hadn’t been perfect—he’d spent the last morning of his life tormented by that. Tycho had broken family covenants held sacred for generations. And Huff had made mistakes—terrible ones that had led to Tycho standing there in the darkness by himself.
Why did you do it, Grandfather? Why did you let Mox go?
On the third try he managed to get Carlo’s hologram loaded, allowing himself a small smile as Johannes rippled and vanished, replaced by an image of Carlo at his console aboard the Comet, control yoke held loosely and confidently. His brother’s expression was serene—he was exactly where he’d wanted to be, doing what he’d loved to do.
But then Tycho couldn’t get the pedestal to save the hologram—it would only display it from the mediapad.
His frustration boiling over, Tycho brought his fist down on the control panel. It hurt badly, and he grimaced and rubbed the bruised heel of his hand. The panel was beeping now, and he could hear static.
Great
, I broke the stupid thing.
“About time you checked in, Huff,” a man’s voice said from a speaker in the pedestal. “Our sympathies about your grandson. He was a fine pilot—and would have made a good captain one day. Now, what do you have to report?”
Tycho looked at the control panel in horrified realization. His grandfather had come here each time the Comet returned to Callisto, but it hadn’t been to commune with the departed.
“Who are you?” Tycho demanded.
Silence, broken only by static.
“Never mind—you all use fake names anyway. I don’t know who you are, but I know who you work for. You’re my grandfather’s handler for the Securitat.”
After a moment the man on the other side of the comm found his voice.
“Tycho. Look, kid—”
“Shut up. Just shut up. You had my brother killed. He told you he’d made a mistake and wouldn’t help you anymore, and you let him die for it.”
“You saw the tape, kid. Mox killed your brother.”
“I heard the tape. Mox killed my brother, but you let him do it.”
Silence.
Tycho leaned closer to the pedestal, the image of his brother looming overhead. He wanted to be sure the Securitat agent on the other end of the transmission could hear him.
“I don’t know how you ensnared my grandfather, or exactly what dirty deal you forced him into,” he said. “But I’m going to find out. To honor what my grandfather was, before you ruined him, and to honor what my brother could have been.”
The Securitat agent remained silent.
“I’m going to find out—that’s a promise. And then I’m going to bring all of you down.”
A SPACER’S LEXICON
A
abaft. To the rear of.
able spacer. The most experienced class of crewer aboard a starship. Able spacers are more experienced than ordinary spacers, while crewers with too little experience to be considered ordinary spacers are called dirtsiders.
admiralty court. A court concerned with the laws of space, including the taking of prizes. The Jovian Union maintains several admiralty courts in the Jupiter system and abides by the decisions of the admiralty court on the neutral minor planet Ceres, with privateers and warships expected to report to the admiralty court with jurisdiction over the area of space where a prize is taken.
aft. Toward the rear of a starship; the opposite of fore.
air scrubber. A collection of filters and pumps that remove carbon dioxide and impurities from the air aboard a starship, keeping it healthy and (relatively) clean.
amidships. In the middle of a starship.
armorer. A crewer in charge of a starship’s hand weapons. Most crewers on privateers and pirate ships carry their own arms.
arrrr. Originally an acknowledgment of an order (“yar”), it has become a nonspecific pirate outburst, adaptable to any situation. The more Rs, the greater the intensity of feeling.
articles. A written agreement drawn up for each cruise, setting out rules and the division of any prize money and signed by all hands aboard a privateer or pirate ship.
articles of war. The body of space law governing hostilities between spacegoing nations and their starships.
avast. Stop!
aviso. A small, speedy starship used for carrying messages across space.
aye-aye. An acknowledgment of an order.
B
bandit. An enemy starship, typically a small, maneuverable one that’s likely to attack you.
bandolier. A belt slung over an arm or across the chest that holds carbines, ammunition pouches, and other nasty things.
barky. An affectionate nickname for one’s own starship.
beam. The side of a ship, always identified as port or starboard.
beat to quarters. A summons to battle stations, in ancient times accomplished by beating out a rhythm on a drum, in modern times achieved by playing a recording.
belay. A ranking officer’s order countermanding a just-issued order.
belowdecks. The deck of a starship below the bridge or quarterdeck, generally reserved for spacers and officers who aren’t members of the bridge crew. “Belowdecks” also refers collectively to these spacers.
berth. A sleeping place aboard a starship.
bilge. In ancient seagoing ships, the lowest part of a hull, which filled with foul water also called bilge. In modern parlance, anything foul or nonsensical.
blacklist. A list of spacers to be punished for failure to properly perform their duties or for other breaches of discipline.
blackstrap. Cheap, sweet wine bought in ports.
black transponder. A transponder that identifies a starship as belonging to a pirate captain or, more commonly, transmits a blank identification.
blaster. A pistol or other handheld cannon.
boarding action. The invasion of a starship with marines or crewers.
boarding party. A group of marines or crewers whose job it is to board and take control of a starship.
bogey. A starship that has been seen on scopes but not yet identified.
bosun. A crewer whose duties include daily ship inspections. The bosun reports to the chief warrant officer.
bow. The front of a starship.
bow chaser. A gun located at a starship’s bow, designed for firing at ships being pursued.
bridge. A starship’s command center, generally called the quarterdeck on warships, privateers, and pirate ships. On the Shadow Comet, the quarterdeck is the middle deck and is reserved for the bridge crew.
bridge crew. The officers who serve aboard the quarterdeck or bridge. On many privateers, the bridge crew is limited to the family that owns the ship or their close associates.
bridle port. A port in a ship’s bow through which the bow chasers extend.
brig. A room used as a jail aboard a starship.
broadside. A volley of shots aimed at the side of an enemy ship and delivered at close range.
bulk freighter. A large merchant ship, typically corporate owned.
bulkhead. A vertical partition dividing parts of a starship. In the event of a breach, bulkheads seal to isolate damage and prevent the atmosphere from escaping.
buoy. A marker defining a spacelane. In the modern age, buoys send electronic signals to starships and maintain their positions through small, efficient engines.
burdened vessel. A starship that doesn’t have the right-of-way; not the privileged vessel.
burgoo. A gruel made from shipboard rations, not particularly liked by crewers.
C
cabin. An enclosed room on a starship. Generally refers to an officer’s personal quarters.
cannon. A general term for a starship’s hull-mounted weapons. Cannons can fire laser beams or missiles and are designed for different intensities of fire and ranges.
captain. The commander of a starship. Traditionally, a former captain is still addressed as Captain.
carbine. A pistol.
cargo. Goods carried by a merchant starship.
cargo hauler. A no-frills class of freighter, typically corporate owned.
carronade. A powerful short-range projectile cannon used in combat.
cartel ship. A starship transporting prisoners to an agreed-upon port. Cartel ships are exempt from capture or recapture while on their voyages, provided they don’t engage in commerce or warlike acts.
cashier. To discharge a crewer.
caulk. Thick rubber used to plug holes and seams in a starship’s hull.
centaur. A celestial body with an unstable orbit and a lifetime of several million years, with characteristics of both asteroids and comets.
chaff. Scraps of metal released by a starship to confuse the sensors of an enemy ship or guided missile.
chamade. A signal requesting a cessation of hostilities and negotiations.
chandler. A merchant who sells goods to starships in port.
cheroot. A cheap, often smelly cigar.
chro
nometer. A timepiece.
clove hitch, in a. Dealing with a dilemma.
coaster. A starship that operates close to a planet or within a system of moons, as opposed to starships that make interplanetary voyages.
cold pack. Flexible packet kept cold and used to numb minor injuries.
condemn. To seize a ship for auction or sale under prize law.
container ship. A large merchant ship that typically carries cheap bulk goods.
convoy. A group of merchant ships traveling together for mutual protection, often with armed starships as escorts.
corvette. A small, fast, lightly armed warship.
crewer. A member of a starship’s crew; the equivalent of a sailor on ancient ships. “Crewer” technically refers to all members of a starship’s crew, but members of the bridge crew are rarely if ever called crewers.
crimp. A person who captures spacers in port and sells them to starships as crewers, usually by working with a press gang. Navy officers who lead authorized press gangs are never called crimps—at least, not to their faces.
crowdy. A thick porridge. More edible than burgoo, but not by much.
cruise. A starship’s voyage.
cruiser. A fast, heavily armed warship.
cuddy. A cabin in which officers gather to eat their meals.
cutter. A scout ship.
D
dead lights. Eyes.
derelict. Cargo left behind after a shipwreck with no expectation of recovery. Any claimant may legally salvage derelict.
destroyer. A small warship with the speed to hunt down small, nimble attackers.
dirtside. A spacer’s term for being off one’s ship on a planet or moon. Said with faint derision and distress.
dirtsider. A spacer with minimal training and experience, limited to simple tasks aboard a starship. A hardworking dirtsider may eventually be rated as an ordinary spacer.