She craned her neck back to see if any of the raiders were paying attention to her. They weren’t. “What a nasty mess. Maybe I can help you.” She continued. “I can help, in any way you want me to.”
Robert was not unaccustomed beautiful women making passes at him. In fact, it happened rather frequently. Normally, he rather enjoyed it. That kind of attention is a great boost to his ego. But, something about this girl repelled him. She was pretty. A gorgeous redhead with striking green eyes. She seemed young though, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Ruby!” Deke yelled from across the cargo bay.” Get away from him. Get over here.”
She sighed and slowly zipped her jumpsuit all the way up and sprang to her feet. She smiled down and gave him a little wink. “Maybe later,” she purred, then with a graceful pivot she turned and ran back towards the others.
Robert stopped for a moment. He shook his head. Unbelievable. One good thing was that she had managed to distract him from the smell of this blue stuff, even if only for a few moments. Robert bent back to his task, but forgot to breathe through his mouth. The stench assaulted his nostrils and nearly made him gag. What is this stuff?
“I would avoid her, if I were you. Deke is very… protective of her. You would do well to steer clear,” said a voice from behind Robert. He nearly jumped.
Robert had seen this man with Deke, unloading cargo from the Pegasus. Now he sat on a small crate and gave Robert an appraising look.
“Can I offer some advice?” he said.
“Please do,” Robert responded.
“Do like he said.” He nodded towards Deke. “Do as you’re told, when you’re told. He wasn’t bluffing about taking you to the captain. And Digg would like nothing more than to put you out the airlock.”
Robert considered this. He appraised the man, sitting on the crate cleaning his nails with a knife. He wore the standard dirty orange coveralls. Deep lines creased his face, and his dirty brown hair showed the first signs of graying.
“I would imagine that no one has bothered to give you the lay of the land here.”
Robert shook his head. “You imagine correctly.”
“Very well. The ship you are on is called Hell’s Bane. She is a Merchantman class medium cargo freighter. I’m sure you’ve met Captain Lex. We also have an assault frigate called the Inferno. She’s captained by an old salt named Grizz. A rather disagreeable man if you ask me. We have a cargo ship called the Doxy—her captain is a man called Frisbee. He’s another old salt, but far more agreeable than Grizz. And of course, we picked up one of the escort corvettes that was escorting your ship. She’s now called the Carpathian, under Captain Fitz. I don’t really know him.”
Robert continued to clean the exo-loader, actively trying not to gag from the fumes. He concentrated on the raider’s voice, trying to take in his information.
“Our captain is a fair man. He’s not like some of the pirate captains you’ve heard about on the news feed.”
Heat started climbing up Robert’s neck. “You mean other than the fact that he spaced most of the passengers on my ship?” Robert said, still trying not to gag.
“Well, I understand where you’re coming from. I was taken off a ship just like you were. So, believe me when I tell you it could be much worse.”
“Also, you may technically be under the protection of the Articles, but I would watch my back if I were you. Everyone has seen the security feed when you put Digg on his arse,” he said, as he broke into a wicked cackle. “That was brilliant, mate.”
Robert managed to smile. This man’s laugh was infectious, and he was happy for the distraction from the horrid stench.
“Anyway, our little section is called the raiders. Once the strikers take the ship, it’s our job to carry off the cargo. Now mind you, we often don’t have much time, especially if a ship gets out a distress call. Sometimes we may only have a couple hours. And in that time we need to make sure that we grab the most valuable items. It can be tricky, and there’s no time to lollygag.
“When the time comes, make sure you move with purpose,” he said, putting his knife away.
Robert pointed at the other raiders with his brush, and inadvertently flung a blue glop onto his coveralls. He nearly retched. The intrepid actor took a few mouthfuls of air and scraped the glop off.
The Raider in front of him either did not notice, or did not care about Robert’s discomfort. He composed himself and finished the question he had started. “Who are my coworkers?”
“Ah, of course. You’ve already met Deke and Ruby. The skinny bloke with the dark hair is called Flinch.”
Robert looked at him quizzically.
“Digg beat him down pretty hard when he was brought on board. And now whenever Digg is around he flinches back, hence the name. Not very original, perhaps.” He pointed to a tall olive skinned woman that had her hair up in a bun. “That’s Lizzie. She doesn’t say much.”
“The huge black fella is named Freddie. An absolute angel of a man. Such a gentle soul. Once he gets to know you, I’m sure he’ll talk to you. The others might take a little while, but I think Deke isn’t going to be friendly no matter how hard of a worker you turn out to be.”
Robert sucked in another mouthful of air. He would bet he was probably turning green. “And your name?”
The raider laughed. “Oh, bloody hell... Nigel’s the name,” he said and offered his hand.
Robert took it and shook. “Do you, by any chance have something I can clean my hands with?”
Nigel got up and went to a nearby storage locker. He brought back a handful of duro-cloth rags and handed them to Robert.
Robert regarded them curiously. “Cloth rags? Really? In this day and age?”
Nigel scoffed. “Well, what do you use to clean grease and slime?”
Robert grimaced. He had no idea. He shrugged. “Sorry, Nigel. This is new to me.”
“What? Manual labor?” Nigel snorted. “Yeah, mate, I can see that.”
Nigel stood up to go. He pointed at the pile of rags. “Those are duro-cloth, make sure you put them in the recycler, not the incinerator,” he said and walked off.
CHAPTER 21
Robert showered off the dirt and grime of the day. He put his usual clothes back on, threw his nasty coveralls into the recycler, and he would run it through one more time just for good measure. He stepped out into the corridor and headed towards the mess hall. The Hell’s Bane’s corridors were tall and wide. The walls were gray with a broad, light blue stripe that ran horizontally down the wall. The floor was covered with dark duro-plastic tiles. The corridor smelled antiseptic. Robert was amazed how clean the ship was outside of the cargo bay. Not what he would expect on a pirate ship. They must have cleaning bots, though I haven’t seen any.
The Bane may have started out as a regular Merchantman class medium cargo freighter, but it has been highly modified over the years. Arms and armor were added, but Robert wondered if the halls had been widened and heightened to accommodate the pirate’s exoskeletons.
Approaching the mess hall, he smelled something wonderful. Steaks were grilling in the kitchen. His mouth watered. When he realized that these steaks were probably stolen from the Pegasus’ ships stores, a pang of guilt hit him. Well, I still have to eat.
He stepped into the mess hall. The bar was full, strikers and raiders sat eating steak and drinking beer. The galley was crowded, no empty tables or booths remained. He spotted John Drake and the other Pegasus survivors sitting together at a table nearby. Robert approached.
“Robert. I believe you’ve met everyone here,” Drake said.
He nodded his greetings to the ex-bridge officers. “Yes. Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Hello, Mr. Ford,” the pilot, Pete O’Brien offered.
“No reasons for formalities. Please, call me Robert,” he said.
“Bosun Shred is grilling the steaks back there,” Billy said, pointing aft. “You’ll find a tray and utensils as well.”
“Thanks, Billy,” Robert said and headed for the small kitchen in the back. He hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Strikers Digg and Hack stood from their seats and cut off Robert midstride. They towered menacingly over him. Digg’s eyes were dilated, his fists clenched, knuckles white. Hack swayed, a liter mug in his hand sloshed a dark beer over the rim.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Robert tried not to show any fear. The last thing he wanted to do was feed these maniacs’ egos. I cannot cower to these fiends in front of everyone. Too many eyes watching, I’ll never gain their respect if I show weakness here.
Hack put a meaty finger to Robert’s chest. “I have a mind to put your useless arse out the port airlock.”
“And I have a mind to help him,” Digg added.
Robert kept his expression neutral. “Gentlemen, please.”
“Gentlemen?” Hack slurred. “Do you take us for gentlemen?”
Robert stood his ground. He looked from Digg to Hack, keeping his face disinterested. “I would like to grab a bite to eat, if you will let me pass.”
The strikers chuckled. Hack mocked him by repeating his sentence, imitating his posh accent. Robert suppressed a smile. Hack pulled the accent off.
Hack was a huge, dark skinned fellow with military close hair and a finely trimmed goatee. He had an affinity for Hawaiian shirts. Robert could not place his accent. He was certainly not from Pollux, like Captain Lex. In another life, this man would have made a fine Othello.
“Those steaks are for productive members of the crew,” Digg started. He spread his arms and waved towards the crowd. “You know, the people that work here.”
Robert took half step towards Digg. His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve been assigned to the raiders. And I’ll have you know, that I spent the day cleaning some sort of foul slime from one of the exo-loaders.”
Digg’s head swiveled towards Nigel and Deke, sitting at a nearby table. Nigel nodded to confirm Robert’s statement. Deke drank his beer and pretended he wasn’t paying attention.
Digg scoffed. “Well then, the little ponce did some labor today. Fancy that.” Both strikers laughed. “I hope you didn’t get your nails dirty,” Digg said, followed by more guffaws.
Robert smiled, and tried to step around two massive strikers. They shifted their position and remained in front of him. Robert was becoming irritated.
“What makes you think you deserve a steak?” Hack slurred.
“Those steaks came from my ship. I have as much right to them as you do,” Robert said, anger creeping into his voice. He took a half step forward. “Digg, are you still angry that this ponce put you squarely on your arse?” Robert asked.
Digg leaned in menacingly. “You got lucky, you little bastard. It won’t happen a second time,” he growled.
Robert smiled again. “Perhaps.”
Digg snarled and took a menacing step towards Robert.
“What seems to be the problem here?” Boomer asked. Robert hadn’t noticed her approach from behind. She stood in her usual black cargo pants and tank top with her arms folded, looking decidedly cross.
“Bugger off, Boomer. This don’t concern you,” Digg said.
“I beg to differ,” Reznik said. Robert had not noticed him either.
“As master gunner, Boomer is a ship’s officer. And she asked you a question. Is there a problem here?” Reznik said.
“Yeah, it seems we have someone here not carrying his weight. He’s no fighter,” said Hack.
“Neither is he an engineer or pilot, or anything useful,” added Digg. “And he’s about to help himself to my prize steaks? I don’t think so,” he finished.
“Your steaks?” Boomer said, arching her eyebrow.
“Yes. He is,” Reznik said. “Mr. Ford is under the protection of the Articles. If you two try to throw him out of the port airlock, you will both quickly follow him. Is that understood?”
Nigel shot out of his chair, his face red with rage at Digg’s slight. He pointed an accusing finger at Digg. “Not useful?” Nigel stabbed his finger towards Robert. “This man is a raider. Are you saying we are not useful?”
Digg and Hack ignored Nigel. Deflated, they both stepped back to allow Robert to pass. Robert nodded his thanks to Reznik and Boomer. And Deke pulled Nigel down into his seat, throwing eye daggers at him.
Deke glared at his assistant. “Mind your pint, Nigel.”
Robert returned to his table with a medium rare ribeye and sat next to John. The engineer, Colin Burton, spoke up. “What was that all about?”
“It would seem some of the crew don’t approve of my being here,” Robert replied.
“That one. I think his name is Digg. He’s on some sort of narcotic. His body temperature is elevated, and his are pupils dilated,” John said.
Colin looked a bit puzzled. “How do you know that?” he asked.
John smiled tapped his finger next to his eye. “Tools of the trade, my boy. Ocular implants.”
“Of course, should’ve known. I have them too, but his body temperature would have to be close to three thousand Celsius in order for me to read it,” Colin said with a laugh.
Billy studied the two strikers. “The dark fellow in the loud shirt is rather drunk,” he noted.
“Be careful, Robert.” Drake began. “These brutes are all highly augmented. I wonder if I could run medical scans and find out just how augmented they are?” he mused.
“Most of them have military grade subdermal armor. You can see the hexagons under their skin. It’s not very subtle, but it is damn strong,” Colin said around a mouthful of steak.
The noise in the mess hall ebbed and flowed, raucous laughter and cursing mostly. Some of the pirates were drunk or high. Some were boisterous. It was quite an eclectic group of people, from every part of known space. Everyone at Robert’s table ate their steak while the conversation paused for a few minutes.
Robert glanced towards the back of the galley where the strikers had been sitting. He was startled to realize that two of the strikers were, in fact, women.
“I guess I’ll be transferred to the Inferno. They’re in need of an engineer over there,” Colin said between bites.
“Reznik told me I’m bound for the Carpathian,” said Pete.
“I’m to be the pilot here. Seems they lost their last pilot. I’m afraid to ask how,” Billy offered.
“How has the crew been treating you?” Dr. Drake asked, looking at Billy.
“Not as bad as I would’ve thought, all things considered,” he replied.
“I’m still a wee bit surprised to hear we’ll get paid. Not to mention, my cabin is bigger than it was on the Pegasus,” said Colin.
“Yeah, just need one million coin, and I can go back home to my wife and five children.” Pete said. “I guess I shouldn’t complain. I thought I was a dead man when they took the ship.”
Dr. Drake looked at Billy and Colin. “Either of you leave behind any family?”
“I had a girl on Capella Major, nothing serious though.” Billy said. Colin just shook his head and took another bite.
“Has anyone tried accessing the QNet?” Billy asked.
“The moment I was alone in my cabin. Nothing,” Colin replied.
“Reznik told me we would be granted limited access once they trusted us. Unlimited downstream, no upstream,” Drake stated.
“No calls home then.” Pete sighed. “I wish I could let the wife and kiddos know I was alive and well.” Pete’s face hardened. Robert could tell he was holding back a flood of emotion.
Pete breathed out hard. “All right then, I’m off.” He stood and took his tray, dumped it in the recycler and left the galley with his head down.
“That poor fellow,” John Drake said. Billy and Colin exchanged a glance.
“Yeah, the only reason he was shipping out with us was he was trying to earn enough money to move his family out of Cheapside. Put his kids in good schools,” Colin said.
“Well, I’ll help him out if
I can. I wonder if Reznik’s estimate on how long it will take to earn one million coin is true,” Billy mused.
After a brief silence, Colin spoke up. “I wish we had QNet. I’d like to watch a vid or read an epub. Something.”
“There is a ship’s net, but I’m afraid it’s mostly just pornography,” John said.
Colin’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” John smirked. With a few hand gestures, John found the address and sent it across to Colin.
Colin smiled. “I’ll be in my bunk.”
CHAPTER 22
Sparky sat his station, perusing dozens of holo-screens. His eyes flicked from screen to screen, his hands were a blur of motion. He seemed to be listening to music, his head bobbed rhythmically, and a foot tapped the floor to a rhythm that Billy could not hear.
Since his time as chief pilot for the Hell’s Bane, Billy noted that Sparky could do several tasks at once. He wondered how heavily augmented the chief engineer was. He knew most engineers were auggies. Most people were, at least to some degree. In fact, he had quite a few himself. Neurological augmentations allowed him to perceive three-dimensional space, always knowing his orientation and he also had many of the common human interface devices.
Billy turned his attention back to his own screens at the pilot’s station. A small, red circle appeared at the edge of his tactical display. He frowned at it.
“Bane, please confirm that our sensor suite is functioning properly,” Billy said to the ship.
“All my sensors are operating within parameters,” Bane replied.
Billy reached out into his tactical display and grabbed the red circle. He pulled it towards him, focusing the ship’s sensors on it. As he turned it around in his hand in the semi-translucent circle coalesced into the shape of a ship. Specifically, a bulk class freighter of standard Imperial design. He opened another holo-screen with various sensor functions listed, each with a toggle or a dial.
“Hey!” Sparky yelled from his station. “What are you about to do?”
We Happy Few: The Leviathan Universe 2138 Page 11