We Happy Few: The Leviathan Universe 2138

by Edward D. Hudson

  Hack laughed. “That captain must’ve been a real son of a bitch.”

  They both laughed and followed the new crew in, as the raiders moved in with their exo-loaders.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Captain,” Reznik said as he stepped back onto the bridge, “this is one hell of a score.” The quartermaster beamed. He saved his use of human curse words for special occasions. He tapped his data pad and sent the inventory to a holo-screen in front of Lex. “The machinery is new, still in the manufacturers crates. Several kinds of 3D Printers: the standard merchandise type, bio, and fine scale tech. Several dozen of them. Enough to equip our entire fleet and still have dozens to fence.” His black eyes glittered.

  The 3D printers were welcome additions to the ship’s machinery. Their current printers were old. The engineers performed a lot of maintenance to keep them up and running. It was a constant struggle.

  Reznik was seldom this excited, when he was it was usually over a great score. “The foodstuffs are mostly just field rations, but again, there is a lot of it. There are some frozen goods. Cows, bison, great horn, and more chickens, rabbits, and Capellan weasels than we could eat in a hundred days.”

  “Bosun Shred will be delighted. And so will we. He is one helluva chef,” Lex said.

  The affable bosun’s cooking skills were the stuff of fleet legend. Shred had often said he would open a restaurant on Free Port when he was done with pirating.

  Lex studied the inventory. “I want all the machinery and at least half of the food offloaded from the prize before we move out,” he said, turning his gaze to his quartermaster. “Just in case.”

  Reznik tried to nod. Once again, he didn’t quite pull it off. He tapped his data pad again.

  “Perhaps we could get the Doxy to dock on the other side of the prize. She should have plenty of room for our cargo,” Reznik added.

  Lex made a note to have the bio printer sent to the med bay, in case Digg needed to have a new ear grown… again.

  Lex pulled up a holo-screen. He watched Deke and his raiders carrying back cargo with their yellow exo-loaders. The raiders had gone straight for the expensive machinery. Lex didn’t have to tell them to grab the valuables first. Every member of the crew understood that their share was based on what they could haul away. And if something happened to the other ship, they could lose their valued prize. Lex knew that the raiders mostly just played cards in the cargo bay all day long. But when the time came to work, they moved with speed and efficiency. As far as he was concerned they could do whatever the hell they wanted when they weren’t unloading a prize.

  Lex smiled. The bridge hummed with that slight resonance from the engines at idle. Sparky was the only other crewmember on the bridge. He was busy going through the Shelton’s records, harvesting data. Occasionally, he would talk to himself, or curse, or laugh at something. Lex and Reznik were used to it, sometimes he made sense, and sometimes it was just a string of pure nonsense.

  “We need to put together a skeleton crew to take the prize with us. It’s not often we get a fully functional, undamaged ship,” Lex said.

  Reznik made another note on his data pad. “I will put together a list of qualified candidates for your approval.” He looked up at his captain.

  “Captain, Digg and Hack wanted to request that Will Claybourne be assigned to the strikers.”

  “He certainly is aggressive enough. Do you see any reason to deny the request?”

  Reznik looked up from his data pad. “He is a rated pilot and has several different systems engineering certifications.”

  Lex stroked his chin thoughtfully. “There is another pilot and engineer from this crew?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I think we can afford to give him to the strikers.”

  The quartermaster tapped at his data pad again. “Noted. Also, there is a medic. She has quite an extensive list of medical certifications. Trauma medicine being among them.”

  “Very good. I’m sure Doctor Drake will be pleased to have some capable help.”

  Lex looked vaguely upward, watching out of the large windows. He pulled up a comm window and sent a call request to Captain Frisbee of the Doxy.

  “Yes, Captain Lex?” came the cargo ship captain’s reply. “We are standing ready. I have ten raiders ready to move cargo.”

  “Very good, Captain Frisbee. Please execute.”

  The other captain nodded and his image disappeared. Lex liked Frisbee. The old man was a originally a merchantman captain, and had enough experience to always anticipate Lex’s orders. Frisbee was not made for combat, but logistics were second nature to him.

  CHAPTER 24

  The eleven crewmembers of the Commerce class freighter formerly known as the Shelton, now known as Fizgig, sat in the galley awaiting their job assignments from quartermaster Reznik. They had all been so excited, and energized about getting the best of their previous captain. The adrenaline high they were riding had worn off, and they were starting to understand the gravity of what they’d stepped into. Their excitement had turned into nervousness and uncertainty. It made Reznik want to laugh.

  Billy stood behind Reznik with his arms folded and a serious look on his face. Five Strikers flanked the newcomers. Doctor Drake and Deke strode in to the galley, both nodding to Reznik.

  Billy cast a glance towards Doctor Drake. The doctor winked and stood behind the quartermaster.

  The scene was slightly surreal to Billy. It wasn’t very long ago he sat in those chairs looking scared and uncertain. He remembered the worst part was not knowing what to expect. He wasn’t sure why Reznik asked him to join them, or the doctor for that matter.

  Billy surveyed the new crewmembers. He found one glaring back at him. This new crewmember was a bit taller and a bit older than Billy. He had a wicked scar that ran down the side of his face. What the hell’s his bloody problem?

  Reznik’s words sounded very familiar. The strikers turned off their nano cloaks and took off their helmets. Billy fought to suppress a smile. I guess this is a canned performance.

  Reznik presented the ships Articles to the Shelton’s crew. Billy could feel someone looking at him. He turned towards that same damned crewmember. He glared angrily at Billy. Billy had no idea what this guy’s problem was, but he found himself growing angry as well.

  Reznik tapped his data pad. “Very well, now that you have signed our Articles, I will tell you where you will be working.”

  “William Claybourne,” Reznik started.

  Will raised his hand. “Here.”

  Reznik nodded, skimming through his data pad again. “You hold advanced piloting certificates, and are rated as a systems engineer.”

  Will Claybourne shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  Reznik continued, “However, Digg and Hack have requested that you join the strikers.

  Will pumped his fist. “Yes…” he hissed.

  Reznik turned towards the pretty girl with raven hair and high cheekbones. “Since you’re the only female present, I assume you to be May Suzuki.”

  She nodded quickly, seemingly afraid to speak.

  “You hold several advanced medical certifications, and your last position was the ship’s medic,” Reznik said, still looking at his data pad. “You will be a ship’s medic here, working under Doctor Drake,” he finished, gesturing towards John.

  John smiled and offered his hand. She gave him back his shy smile and took his hand. He turned to Reznik. “If the quartermaster will allow, I will show our lovely new medic to her quarters, and show her the med bay.”

  “Yes, of course, Doctor Drake,” the quartermaster replied.

  She stood, slowly and nervously. John offered, “Don’t worry my dear, no harm will come to you here.”

  She smiled and they departed. Billy was unable to suppress his smile. That sly old dog.

  Reznik called out the pilot and engineer. “When we are done here, our chief pilot, Billy McAndrews, and our chief engineer Sparky, will brief you on your duties. Yo
u will both be assigned to the Carpathian. They both simply nodded.

  “To the rest of you,” Reznik began. “You’ll work for Deke here.” He gestured to the foreman. “He will take you to the cargo bay and explain your duties.”

  Deke stepped forward. “All right, you lot, on your feet and follow me,” he said, already headed towards the door. The new raiders quickened their pace to catch up.

  Digg put his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll show you the squad bay and get you situated.”

  Will grinned wickedly and stood. As he passed Billy, he shoulder checked him, knocking Billy back a full step. Will’s eyes burned with hatred. “Watch what the hell you’re going,” Will growled.

  “What is your bloody damn problem? You’ve been eyeballing me since I walked in,” Billy snarled back.

  Will stepped towards Billy balling his fists. “Maybe I just don’t like you.” His hot breath brushed Billy’s cheeks.

  Billy raised his hands and shoved him back hard. “Step off, mate. I’m in no mood for your shite.”

  Will cocked his fist back, getting ready to throw a punch. Billy stepped back into a fighting position putting his arms up to guard.

  Hack cackled in the background. Digg caught Will’s fist just as he was releasing his punch.

  Digg looked annoyed. “Save that shite for the boarding party, Newb.”

  The other Strikers laughed. “Newb!” Striker Grunt exclaimed. “I think that’s the fastest anyone has ever earned a nickname here. Huzzah!” Strikers crowed as they left the galley.

  Billy turned to the pilot and engineer. “That guy is a real arsehole,” he said, jabbing his thumb towards the door.

  The pilot and engineer exchanged a glance. “You have no idea,” said the pilot.

  CHAPTER 25

  The cabin door hissed shut behind him. Robert was bone weary and smelled terrible. He peeled off his dirty coveralls and shoved them into the recycler. He stood under a hot shower for several minutes trying to clear his mind and concentrate on the steaming hot water that cascaded down. He took a moment to silently thank the engineers that designed the ship for putting in hot water showers, instead of the sonic showers that were popular in most cargo ships.

  Even though he was very physically fit, he was not used to doing such dirty, menial labor. He was forced to scrub the exo-loaders and hover pallets while the other raiders sat and played cards and made jokes at his expense. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, except do as he was told and try to stay alive for just one more day.

  He pulled on a clean set of clothes, and slumped down at his small desk. He realized he should practice some sword katas, but his aching body told his mind that would not be happening today.

  The desk had its own terminal, which gave him QNet access. Granted, it was read-only, he couldn’t send email or even post to his social media account.

  He made the mistake of looking at his social media site. It was a combination of people posting unmitigated hatred for him and protestations of his innocence. He closed that screen with a frustrated grunt, and moved on to the news feeds to look for anything about the Pegasus. He had checked the news feeds about the Pegasus. Apparently, the survivors of Paladin Six were rescued and told their story to the media. They had dumped all the ship’s sensor data and telemetry into the shuttle before escaping into the nebula.

  An Imperial cruiser rescued the shuttle from Paladin six. They had been sent to intercept the Pegasus and take Robert into custody. Constable Alston Townsend had been found out. Inquisitor Vartha extracted information from the constable on how he aided the fugitive Robert Taylor Ford, one article read. He was found out and hung for his crime of aiding and abetting the escape of an enemy of the crown. I’m an enemy of the crown now? … I suppose I am. Damn. That man only wished to help me and now he’s dead. Robert closed his eyes, took a deep breath and blew it out. I am truly sorry, Alston.

  Something else bothered Robert. Had the Pegasus been alerted that they had a fugitive on board? None of her former bridge officers ever mentioned it. And their demeanor towards him didn’t indicate that they believed he was a fugitive from the King’s justice. Why would they not inform Pegasus’ security? Robert felt like he was missing a piece of a puzzle.

  The data core from Paladin Six provided high resolution pictures of what was left of the Pegasus. Her blackened hull was shown hanging dead in space. There were a few large holes punched into her where the Inferno’s missiles had opened her hull to space. Above all, the worst pictures were of the bodies. Many burnt from the explosions, but most were identifiable, their features distorted from their last few seconds of life.

  “This is abominable!” cried one of the news feed’s talking heads. “The Imperial Fleet should be hunting these murdering bastards down, so we can hang the lot of them in New Trafalgar Square!”

  There was talk that Parliament should pass more laws. “Something more should be done!” were oft heard cries. Some proposed the complete disarming of all merchant ships because some lowly crewman might oust a captain and go on the account. Others spoke of more conscription into the Imperial Fleet and building more warships.

  Over six months had now passed since ‘The Pegasus Incident’ as the news feeds called it. The uproar had ebbed. The media moved on to other stories.

  The Fleet collected the bodies and identified them. The feeds posted the casualty list and noted that eighteen people had not been accounted for. “Perhaps the bodies were destroyed in the blast, or possibly taken as slaves, a fate, perhaps much worse than death,” another pundit cried.

  Robert noticed something odd, however. The Bane and her growing fleet of escorts had taken the cargo ship Shelton since the Pegasus. There was no mention of them. Granted, they were taken intact. There wasn’t a burnt and broken ship left in the shipping lanes for the authorities to find. But someone must have noticed when they didn’t reach their destination. Families of the crews must have reported that their loved ones were no longer answering email, vid screen requests, or posting on their social media. Robert realized what the difference was. These ships weren’t full of minor royalty or rich merchants and wealthy tradesmen.

  Robert sighed. Have I really been so sheltered? After all, these crewmen were people that Robert would have barely ever had any contact with in his former life as a wealthy Shakespearean actor.

  Robert looked at the news feeds related to Marissa’s death. She had been a rising star so there had been a lot of coverage. Robert’s arrest warrant displayed on the screen. Some of the pundits found it hard to believe that such a well-bred gentleman such as Robert Taylor Ford could be capable of such a heinous act. While others said, if he was innocent, why did he flee? Why, indeed.

  His director, Edmund Houston looked into the camera with barely concealed disdain. The host shot him a question. “Let me see if I understand this properly, you say there is no chance that Robert Taylor Ford committed this awful crime?”

  Houston’s eyes narrowed as he leaned into the camera. “Let me say this yet again, I do not believe that Robert Taylor Ford is capable of doing such a thing. He loved Armand like a son, and was teaching him everything he knew about the craft...”

  The host interrupted him, “But you have to admit, it is pretty damning evidence that Miss St. Thomas and young Lord Rousseau were found naked in bed. There are many sources that say Mr. Ford and Ms. St. Thomas, were indeed, an item. Wouldn’t this go for motive?”

  Edmund rubbed his temples. “Motive? Perhaps, but I stand by my previous words. I do not think that Robert Taylor Ford killed them.” The host tried to shoot another fast question. Edmund simply stood up and walked away. Robert smiled to himself. Thank you, Edmund.

  Another feed showed Armand’s father stare into the camera with fiery eyes. “I, Lord Henri Rousseau, hereby offer a bounty of two million coin for the capture of the criminal and murderer, Robert Taylor Ford. My agents will not rest until they bring me this man’s head. And I will seek the crown’s permi
ssion to persecute anyone that has aided and abetted his escape. How dare this man…” The lord took in a deep breath, barely able to contain his rage. “How dare this man think he can spill noble blood.”

  Robert sighed and leaned back in his chair. His head was swimming. If he could escape the ship, or buy his way off, he would have to change his name and face. I wonder how long until one of the crew sees this, and puts two and two together?

  He wasn’t sure why, but he kept scrolling through the newsfeed. Like a space elevator slowly collapsing to the ground, he was drawn in to watch the horror that had become his life.

  When some reporter finally ascertained that Robert had fled the capitol on the now infamous Pegasus, there was a renewed uproar, it filled the feeds for nearly the entire twenty-six hour news cycle. It was also noted that his remains were not among those found floating in space. Was he dead? Incinerated by the blast? Was he captured by the pirates? Had he joined the crew willingly? These, and other questions, were endlessly speculated upon.

  This news brought more hue and cry from the media. “Can the Imperial Constabulary be trusted? Have they been infiltrated by criminals?” And so on.

  Robert had never watched to news feeds very much. His feeds were mostly arts and entertainment related. He wondered if they had always been so vitriolic, or did he just find it so because it was him they were focused on? He figured it was probably both those things.

  CHAPTER 26

  Robert stood in the cargo bay. He was tired and sore, his mind drifting away. How long have I been here? Must be nearly seven months. Feel so much longer. Vaguely, he realized someone was talking to him.

  “Hey. Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Deke snapped his fingers in front of Robert’s face.

  “You’d better listen to me boy-o. Look at me.”

  Robert blinked a few times. He trained his eyes on his foreman. Deke handed him a long crowbar.