“Captain!” Pilot JorTenzin shouted. His command of the Chan’Yi dialect suffered in his excitement. “I count two—no, tree now—tree pirate ships entering system! They heading for we!”
“What in the seven moons is going on?” Captain Zuf’Moun’Coury swore. “I have never known pirates to travel in packs before.”
“They all smaller than we, but they spreading out to make harder to engage all of they at once.” The Sestran pilot’s long, delicate, red antennae waved incessantly, a sure sign of stress.
“Clever,” the captain muttered with a frown. “No matter which way we turn to engage, there will always be one coming from another angle. Well, there is nothing for it but to dispatch the first one quickly before they can surround us. Close at top speed. Fire a brace of missiles each at Bogey-One and Bogey-Two at maximum range. With luck, they will be distracted for a minute. Then immediately strike Bogey-Three with APCs and mass drivers. Continue in like manner, always attacking the nearer ship with APCs and using missiles against the more distant targets. We cannot afford a long, drawn-out battle. They have the advantage. We must lessen their advantage, and quickly.”
“Aye, Captain,” the pilot confirmed, now calmer.
Within seconds, the battle was engaged.
Bogeys One and Two evaded the missiles and moved to close the gap. Unity ship Coul’Tor pounded Bogey-Three’s shields without mercy, until they failed and the aft of the ship vaporized, taking out the engines. Inertia kept Bogey-Three, now unable to stop or change direction, continuing on a heading toward the sun.
The other two bogeys, meanwhile, attacked Coul’Tor from opposite sides. With two ships always attacking from different directions, JorTenzin was unable to compensate for the damage by rotating the weakest shield away from the attacker. No matter which way he turned the ship, there was always another bogey waiting.
JorTenzin fought brilliantly, damaging both remaining bogeys before Coul’Tor’s own shields failed under a barrage of APC blasts.
JorTenzin’s final act before meeting his ancestors was to launch a small buoy, the Unity equivalent of a Black Box. Lying dormant and silent initially, as soon as another ship with a Unity transponder entered the system it would go active, transmitting a record of Coul’Tor’s final battle.
Another blast from an APC and Coul’Tor exploded in a brilliant pyrotechnic display as the remaining missiles in her armory detonated in their launch cradles.
“There’s too many of them! I…can’t…fight…them…all…off!” Pilot Melf Jensin growled through his fangs. He whipsawed Red Moon this way and that, trying to avoid all the energy weapons coming to bear on his ship simultaneously. “Shields are down to twenty percent, Captain. We won’t last much longer at this rate. Maybe two to three minutes.”
“Do your best, Melf,” Captain Plemmons said. “We have to hold this system.”
“Captain, think!” the Thorian cried out. “There is no way we can hold out against six pirates.” He paused to loose two quems at one of the bogeys. “Shields now at twelve percent. We have to bug out and get help.”
“We can’t abandon this system. The inhabitants are depending on us.”
“Wanda, we won’t do them any good dead. Someone has to alert Unity HQ to the pirates’ new tactics. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return with help.”
Captain Plemmons hesitated. Her decision was made for her by the impact that jarred Red Moon and nearly threw her from her seat. The strident hull-breach alarm sounded. “You’re right. Break off. Get us out of here.”
The logic behind her calm words did nothing to wash the bitter taste from her mouth as she gave the order—an order no Unity Captain before her had ever had to give.
CHAPTER FIVE
On the planet Jorseen in the Felsen system, Undercommissioner for Logistics Spelvin Mynax, the highest-ranking human in the Merchants’ Unity, sat down. He had just completed his daily briefing for his boss. The light from the wall-sized holoscreen cast heavy shadows across Mynax’s face in the darkened room. The shadows matched his mood. As every other day for months, the news was grim.
“When are we going to get off our butts and mount an effective response to this situation, sir?” he began without prelude. Mynax leaned forward in his formal high-backed chair. “We need a strong response to the pirates’ recent incursions. With them hunting in packs, our ships are taking a terrible beating. We’ve lost nine vessels over the last five months, fourteen others survived but were badly damaged, and fifty-three have had to abandon their posts in the face of superior firepower.
“The pirates have free rein in dozens of systems. Our best estimate is that tens of thousands of inhabitants in those systems have been taken as slaves. Even doubling up the patrol ships in a system doesn’t help when the pirates attack five and six strong.” His baritone echoed slightly in the large and ornate but sparsely furnished office. “And by doubling them, we lack enough ships to patrol all the systems; so, now many go unprotected. This can’t continue.”
Commissioner of the Fleet Boutan’Mourn’Froul leaned back in his chair behind his oversized desk before responding. The desk—hand-carved from a single indigo besselberry tree by master craftspeople in his home town on Chan—had traveled with him when he accepted this position. It was a family heirloom.
He dipped his long cobalt-blue snout in the odd Chan’Yi manner of nodding. “I am well aware of the problem, Mynax. You have seen to that with great diligence. However, we simply do not have enough ships to send flotillas to guard every embargoed system.”
“Of course not, sir. And that’s my point. We have to find a way to counter the new threat the pirates present. If our ships are destroyed or driven off in every encounter, how can we adequately patrol those systems?”
“We cannot.” The commissioner paused in thought for a moment. “You are correct. We must change the rules of this game the pirates have begun. There is only one possible response to this escalation of hostilities. I have a meeting with the Unity board of directors this afternoon. I will demand that they approve my request for more ships and crews, as well as increased armaments for the existing vessels. If the pirates want a war, we must give it to them. Begin hiring and training crews immediately. I will amend my request to that of a tripling of the fleet. We will also need trained crews as soon as the ships are commissioned and put into service.”
Mynax’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a heavy outlay of funds for initial and ongoing expenses. Are you sure the board will approve it? You know how reluctant they’ve been to fund any additional ships. This means quite a large increase in the dues from the member merchants. It could mean wholesale withdrawals from the membership ranks. That would destabilize the Unity and could even lead to its collapse and dissolution.”
“I understand this. It is a risk we have no choice but to make. I must do a sales job on the members to make them understand the importance of this step. If we continue as we have been, the Unity will fall apart anyway. As for the board, they will approve my request or they will have my resignation. They hired me for this position with the promise that they would do whatever it takes to defeat the pirate menace. I intend to hold them to that promise.”
“That’s good to hear, sir.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” The commissioner flashed one of those lip-quirk Chan-Yi smiles. “The crews will not hire themselves. Go!”
“Yes sir!” The good news should have put a grin on Mynax’s face. However, his enthusiasm was tempered by the thought of how many individuals would be killed or enslaved, how many works of art and pieces of jewelry stolen, and how many Unity ships destroyed in the months before the increase in fleet size could be effected.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting will come to order. Now!” Tarl Penrod glared at two board members who stubbornly insisted on continuing their side discussion.
“That’s better. As your chairman and CEO, it’s my honor to present the results of our first year as a corporation.”
<
br /> He looked out at the group of pirates assembled in the great hall on the planet Felstran. Penrod smiled at the smattering of applause.
Unlike the hastily arranged incorporation meeting aboard his flagship, this one was a meticulously planned affair. The meeting hall was built from scratch using rough-hewn timbers from a virgin forest on this unspoiled planet, far from any Unity patrols. Eight BAE Corporation ships orbited the planet, to ensure that the meeting wasn’t disrupted by any Unity ships that might happen to pass through the system.
“Let me start by saying that this year’s performance exceeded even my lofty expectations. You all are to be congratulated on an outstanding inaugural year.”
He raised his hands above his head and applauded those in attendance. A few members of the audience of well over a hundred generals, Chieftains, warlords, and ship’s Captains picked up the hint and amplified the applause. Within seconds, everyone in the room was cheering with enthusiasm.
“This is quite an improvement from the pitiful handful of members we began with. Now look at us! We’re a force to be reckoned with in this sector of the galaxy. During the past year, you processed more than 263,000 slaves and 4.9 million tons of cargo. I think your pocketbooks all felt the effects of that!” Many of the assemblage cheered.
“You also destroyed at least eighteen heavily armed Unity ships that we can confirm—” He paused for the enthusiastic Foren Captain who yelled out, “Damn right!”, and for the brief applause that followed.
Penrod continued. “And you damaged or disabled dozens more. The Unity is in disarray. If we keep up the pressure—better yet, continue to increase it—the Unity will fall, thanks to you. When that happens, the galaxy is ours!”
If the ovation before was intense, this one was record-breaking, accompanied as it was by assorted hoots, howls, shrieks, bellows, and other noises common to each species of pirate in attendance. The thunderous ovation literally shivered the timbers of the pirate meeting hall with its intensity. Bits of the organic ceiling material broke loose and trickled down over the audience, but enthusiasm was so high that no one seemed to care that particles of pressed moss and other stuff dropped onto their dinner plates.
Tarl Penrod waited for the cheering to die down. “Now, regarding the proposed revisions to the profit-sharing plan….”
Hal absently fingered the scar over his right eyebrow as he sipped his beer. The scar was a gift from the pilot of a pirate ship two months earlier, only moments before Hal blew him, her, or it, out of the sky. A piece of shrapnel, knifing across the bridge in zero-gee after Adventurer’s forward gravity generator failed, nearly took Hal’s eye. A last-second flinch is all that saved it, but Hal was left with a reminder that still throbbed from time to time, despite Nude’s ministrations.
That battle was one for the books, with three Unity ships taking on eight pirates at once. The Unity squadron lost one ship before taking out three of the pirate vessels. After that, the raiders seemed to lose their taste for battle, taking off for easier pickings elsewhere. It was just their bad luck that they chose a well-defended system instead of an unprotected one, as many were these days.
Adventurer had limped home after the battle more than eight weeks ago—yet another fight that resulted in heavily damaged or destroyed Unity ships. Since then, she’d remained in spacedock orbiting Chenua, simultaneously being repaired and upgraded with more firepower. Not only was Adventurer stuck in spacedock, so was her crew—or, more precisely, they were stuck on the ground awaiting clearance to board. The city of Brenuwiy was decent enough, with all the modern conveniences of any civilized planet with hyperflight technology. It was merely being stuck dirtside that had Hal antsy.
When I signed up for all this, it was with the express intent of protecting Earth from pirate attacks. Instead, here I am sitting on my butt sipping a poor excuse for beer. I’ve done nothing for two months but people-watch and strategize about what we’ll do to those godforsaken pirates when we finally get out of here and get the chance to start kicking tail again.
Hal sighed. “Another?”
Kalen, sitting silently next to him at the bar, replied, “Why not? We’re not going anywhere tonight. We’re still days away from being shipshape.”
Hal gestured to the bartender for two more, amused once again at how similar all sentient beings were in some ways, no matter what planet they were from.
We’re all contentious cusses, fighting among ourselves and one another, and most of us have discovered the pleasures of alcoholic consumption.
Sometimes to excess, as I plan to demonstrate.
“Any news yet on when we’re gong to get some reinforcements out here?”
Kalen shrugged. “The same old answer: any time now. It seems like there’s always something gumming up the works. A strike in one shipyard, a batch of defective materials in another, sabotage, a kickback scandal that requires a stoppage while they audit the books. If I didn’t know better—and I’m not sure I do—I’d suspect the pirates of arranging some or all of those delays. As well-organized as they seem to be these days, I wouldn’t put anything past them.”
“Damn it, how are we supposed to do our jobs without ships and personnel? Every week there’s more pirates attacking and fewer of us defending. And now, to make matters worse, they expect us to perform escort duty for commercial and passenger ships in friggin’ convoys! That leaves even fewer of our ships to patrol the embargoed systems.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Hal. I’m as frustrated as you are. Hell, maybe more so. I’ve been dong this a lot longer and I have a better appreciation of just how bad things have gotten. Not all that long ago we had control of the situation and the pirates were little more than a dangerous nuisance. Now….”
He sighed and took a long swallow of his just-served beer with a grimace. “Now? Those reinforcements had better hurry up and get here while there are any of us left to reinforce.”
Emboldened by reports of pirate victories and Merchants’ Unity defeats, the dregs of galactic society flocked to join up and claim a piece of the pirate pie. In the first fifteen months of BAE Corporation’s existence, more than six thousand sentients and nearly four hundred ships—many of them hijacked and upgraded—swelled the ranks of the pirate armada.
With greater size came increased boldness. Even as the pirate vessels grew in number, the Unity fleet dwindled in the face of ever-greater odds.
The pilot of the passenger liner Thelvian Moonbeam went pale. “Captain, we are being hailed.”
“Hailed? Here? By whom?” Captain Fro Slovue frowned, causing the beige and dark brown ‘tiger stripes’ on his face to writhe.
There are no Unity ships in this system that I know of. On the other hand, pirates only raid planets and attack lightly defended outposts, cargo vessels, and Unity patrol ships. So what does that leave, a civilian or commercial vessel in distress?
“He-he will not say. He keeps demanding to speak to the captain, sir.” Pilot Lenven Ghoratha Bluh began shaking uncontrollably. The diminutive lavender, vaguely-froglike Blensians were not known for their exceptional bravery.
“Demanding, you say?”
“Ye-yes, sir. He is quite insistent, and quite rude.”
“Very well, put him through to my implant.”
“Aye,” Bluh said, relieved to be able to turn the situation over to her Captain.
Captain Slovue decided that a firm hand was needed with whichever inconsiderate pilot was doing the hailing. “Now see here—”
“Shut up and listen!” came the reply. The voice sounded artificial, as if digitally altered. “You will slow to maneuvering speed and continue on your present heading. Make no attempt to escape or evade and you might come out of this alive.”
“Alive? Who is this and what do you want?”
“I should think that would be obvious. Slow to maneuvering speed now, or suffer the consequences.”
Captain Slovue turned to Bluh and asked, “How many ships are out there?”
<
br /> “F-five, sir. Heavily armed, and they don’t match any known Unity ship configurations. Th-they appear to b-be—”
“Pirates. Yes, I figured that out for myself.” He returned to the incoming hail. “What are your intentions?”
“Our intentions are to blow you out of the sky if you don’t comply with each and every one of our demands. They’re nonnegotiable. You have five seconds to cut your speed—or die.”
What to do, what to do? If I do not comply, they will kill us all. If I do comply, they may kill us all anyway, after robbing us.
There didn’t appear to be any solutions that would guarantee the safety of all aboard.
“Look, whoever you are, I will cut the engines if you promise not to harm the passengers and my cre—”
“I told you already, no negotiations. Apparently you don’t believe we’re serious about this. I guess we’ll just have to prove it. Which side of your ship would you like us to blast a hole through, port or starboard? You have three seconds to decide before we decide for you. Three, two—”
“Wait, wait! All right, you win. Pilot, cut engines to maneuvering speed.”
“Very good,” the voice responded. “We will be boarding shortly. Do not attempt resistance or we will kill everyone aboard. Have everyone, passengers and crew alike, assemble in the Grand Ballroom and await further instructions. Understand?”
Captain Slovue’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I understand. No one will resist. Just please spare everyon—” The connection went dead.
“So what do we do, Captain?” Bluh asked.
“Whatever the pirates want. We have no way to defend ourselves, except sidearms. That would merely get us blown out of the sky. Inform the passengers and crew of the situation and make sure they understand that they are not to resist.” He sighed. “I do not understand. Pirates have never attacked passenger liners before. What is this galaxy coming to?”
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