by Elliott Kay
“Okay, you know what?” Tanner fumed. “Everyone in the Navy rolled their eyes or laughed when I said I read a lot and I had to put up with it. I am not gonna take that shit from a bunch of college kids. If anyone should have some respect for reading a lot, it’s you guys.” He turned back to his work, grumbling to himself. “Could’ve written a god damn graduate thesis when I was twenty if anyone offered a Masters in Piracy Studies. Even the fuckin’ matriculation counselors knew it. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Malone, I’m not sure how to credit this as coursework. We don’t really have an equivalent line-item in our course catalog for Methods of Hijacking and Counter-Hijacking in Outer Fucking Space.’”
“You don’t know these pirates,” Vandenberg pressed. “We can’t even be sure that’s what is happening here.”
“Ah. You’ve got me. These fuckers are running us down yelling, ‘Heave to and prepare to be boarded,’ without a badge or a flag, but technically I’m the one stereotyping. Gotta be fair to both sides of the issue, right?”
“Do you think this is funny?” snapped Nigel.
“Not particularly.” He reached for the tools by Antonio’s waist, practically folding himself at the hips on the table edge to grab the thick roll of electrostatic tape. “Need this,” he huffed.
“You don’t even have a gun,” said Antonio. “I’m not afraid of a fight, but this is crazy. You don’t know how many there are and they’ll be armed. Are you really going to take them all on with whatever you scrounged up on the tool bench?”
“I’m gonna take on as few of them as I can.” With the last cylinder fully loosened, Tanner slid its contents out onto the table with the others. Each charcoal-like rod was roughly the length and width of his forearm. Outside the shielding cylinders, even in their inert state, the fuel cells were warm to the touch. He wound the roll of tape around all four rods to bind them together. “If the tool bench is the best I’ve got to work with, that’s how it goes.”
“Tanner, I know you’ve been in these situations before, but what happens if it goes the other way this time?” Vandenberg pressed. “This is worse than suicide. They’ll take their anger out on all of us. If you hide, there’s a chance nobody will get hurt.”
“There’s no chance of that, professor. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know for sure,” said Olivia, her arms wrapped tightly across her chest. Her voice shook as much as anyone else’s. “If we give them what they want, maybe they’ll leave.”
“It’s no different than any robbery on the street,” Vandenberg agreed.
Tanner stopped. He pointed to the main power drives behind them. “They told the crew to stop the ship, but they didn’t say to shut anything down. That means they want to keep the engines hot. This isn’t a shakedown for cash or cargo. We’re not being mugged. They want the ship. That’s where the real money is.
“If they’re the hostage-and-ransom kind of pirates, most of you will live for a while. Maybe all that kidnapping insurance actually pays out, but only if the insurance company doesn’t find a way to weasel out of it. Even if they pay out, every minute between now and then is gonna be a fucking nightmare.
“And anyway, like I said, they’ll kill me as soon as they figure out who I am. Hiding only delays it. They’re taking the ship. This isn’t my crazy bloodthirst or whatever you’ve heard. It’s not courage or any of the other bullshit propaganda stuff Archangel used to say, either.” Tanner hefted the bundle of rods off the table, checking his makeshift handle of tape for security. It would hold. It had to. “I don’t have any other options.”
He moved around the table toward the exit. Despite their objections, no one tried to stop him. He paused only to pick the plasma cutter up off the deck beside the table, and again when Gina stepped up.
“I want to help,” she said.
Tanner shook his head. “If you’re not trained or experienced—”
“I’ve been in fights,” she interrupted. “Maybe I’m not trained like you, but I won’t freeze up. I know how to commit.” Her eyes held his. “You don’t know where I grew up and I’m not going to tell you. But I’ve seen guys like this. I am not waiting for them to come get me.”
He noticed the pipe wrench she held low at her side. “Okay.”
“Tanner,” spoke up Antonio. He stepped beside Gina. “Me, too. Whatever I can do.”
“You sure? This is gonna get rough.”
“Which one of us is the full-time athlete?” Antonio pointed out.
Tanner nodded. It was good enough. “Grab something you can swing and come on.”
They found Naomi waiting at the exit. She’d watched and listened to the whole conversation without a word. Her initial shock and fear had turned to dread.
“Keep everyone here,” he said to her quietly. “The engineers are gonna have their hands full. They can’t spare anyone to guard the exits. Whatever happens, don’t let anyone out of here until it’s over. Including the professor. Don’t let him pull rank on you. That doesn’t mean anything now. If somebody jumps into the middle of this they’ll only complicate things.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“No, I mean I don’t like doing nothing,” she corrected. “I don’t want to hide behind you. I’m not the type. I don’t know what to do in a situation like this.”
“Yeah, you do,” said Tanner. “You already did it. You hired me.”
* * *
Everyone felt the first bumps of ship-to-ship connections. Naomi sucked in a nervous breath, wondering if they could jam the exit hatches shut somehow. The rest of the class watched Nigel fuss with a screen at a monitor station. “The camera feed isn’t blocked or encrypted,” he said. “I can’t input any commands, but I can switch the channels.”
“Stop,” said Kim. “That’s it.” The monitor displayed the starboard side external camera feeds. The ship’s hull rose up from the foreground, while the upper half of the picture showed the underside of their attacker. Two men in vac suits guided an extendable vestibule out from the pirate ship’s airlock hatch, bringing it in line with Orca’s airlock.
The sight only left Naomi feeling more helpless and frustrated. “What about the internals?” she asked. “Can you get the inside of the airlock?”
Nigel touched a few holographic keys to search through his options. “Yeah. I’ll put it up.”
A second overhead monitor displayed the closed interior hatch of the airlock and the passageway outside. Vac suits hung from a rack alongside the inner hatch. Everything seemed completely frozen, as if the screen displayed only a still picture rather than live video.
The indicator lights along the airlock hatch changed to confirm a secure connection. Naomi felt a lump in her throat. “Tanner, what are you doing?” she murmured.
Then she saw shadows, followed by moving bodies. Naomi’s brow furrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”
* * *
The inner airlock opened up to a short, narrow passage before the path branched out into a more spacious corridor intersection. Tanner looked over the scene with a scowl. The rack full of vac suits offered one hiding spot right beside the airlock itself, but past that they didn’t have much to work with.
Thumps and clunks reverberated through the bulkheads. They didn’t have much time.
“The airlock is a natural bottleneck,” he explained. “I need the vestibule behind me so they’ll have to think twice about shooting, though. Hopefully. Once this starts, it’s going to get crazy. I can’t give much more of a plan. It’s gonna be win or die.”
“Right,” said Antonio. He swallowed hard. “We know.”
“We’re good,” said Gina. “Where do you want us? How can we help?”
“It’s better if one of you holds this and not me,” he said, handing her the bundle of charred rods and tape. He pointed to the corner to the right of the path out of the airlock. “Stick behind that corner there. We want to keep them focused on me. If one of them tries to push in, you’re th
e block. It’s not going to stop them long, but even if you buy only a few seconds it can make a difference.”
Gina took her place without a second thought. She set the bundle of fuel rods down behind the corner, allowing her to wield the pipe wrench in her hand without any distraction.
“You don’t want us to jump in once it starts?” asked Antonio.
“No. Don’t jump in,” said Tanner. He patted the tool tucked into his belt. “You don’t want to get in close if you don’t have to, and I don’t want to hurt you by mistake. Better if I have space.”
“I’ll be real happy if all I have to do is watch,” Gina assured him. “Good luck.”
“Yeah. You, too. Thank you. Both of you.”
Antonio twisted the big wrench in his hand. “Better than hiding and waiting,” he said.
Tanner knew the feeling. He also understood the fear and the doubt. Bringing both of them was yet another risk. Antonio hadn’t been exposed to real violence beyond holo screens and reading. Gina seemed to be past that process already, at least. Whatever her past, Tanner saw no hesitation or doubt in her eyes. Antonio might be far better built for this, but the right mindset was more important now than a stronger arm. He couldn’t be sure how they’d handle the fight. He also knew his odds fighting entirely alone.
He tapped the holocom on his wrist. “Captain, what’s our status?”
“They’re almost finished with the vestibule connection,” came the reply. “We’re watching on the monitors. I can see and hear you perfectly. Everything is ready on our end.”
Tanner heard another clank, and then a beep. His time was up. Tanner checked the plasma cutter in his hand one more time, making sure the L-shaped tool had its power pack secured and the safety off. The crowbar tucked into his belt would be his only back-up.
The hanging vac suits didn’t offer much concealment, let alone protection. Anyone would see his boots sticking out at the bottom if they gave it a serious look. Even so, he would settle for imperfect camouflage if it bought him any time at all. These things always came down to a few vital seconds.
The airlock hissed and released with a slight creak from the hatch. It opened away from Tanner’s hiding spot. The guys who’d set up the vestibule connection were probably still outside in vac suits, but the boarding party was here. Now.
The first two entered with enough caution to sweep around the corners of the hatch with their weapons held close rather than extended, but they fell short of executing a military breach. The one closest to Tanner only glanced at the hanging suits before turning his piercing-clad face forward again. His partner was well-muscled and dressed in leather pants and the tattered remains of an undershirt.
The rest followed in closely: a freak in a weird harness and chains, a woman in salvaged and outdated combat armor now pierced with spikes, a thick-muscled man with no shirt at all so he could show off his elaborate dragon tattoos, a relatively normal man in a brown longcoat. The next had a short, split mohawk missing exactly one sleeve from his belt-laden jumpsuit.
Mohawk, Longcoat, Dragons, Muscles, Spikes, thought Tanner. God, if I had a laser or even one grenade.
He didn’t know how many more were coming. The first were already about to run into Gina and Antonio at the corner. Tanner pulled the trigger on the plasma cutter and lunged out wielding ten centimeters of steady, concentrated green lightning.
The guy who stepped in behind Mohawk got it first, feeling Tanner’s left hand grip his shoulder an instant before the cutter burned all the way across his back. Tanner shoved him aside as he screamed in agony and brought the plasma cutter down across the Mohawk’s back before he turned around. A simple wave of the instrument’s industrial-strength heat did the job. Every other weapon Tanner had ever used created at least a little resistance. This one effortlessly seared straight through flesh and bone.
The falling men created a barrier. Tanner glanced backward to find another opponent in reach, halted him with a kick, and swept his green torch across the man’s face before he knew what was happening. Unlike the others, this one didn’t even scream.
The glance established one vital bit of information: no other bodies filled the vestibule. This was the whole boarding party, or at least the first.
Enemies cramming the airlock passage turned in alarm. Hardly a breath had passed since Tanner’s second kill as the third fell behind him.
“Shit!”
“Behind us!”
“What the hell?”
Longcoat spun around, laser carbine close and at the ready, only for Tanner to grab the barrel and shove it upward before plunging the plasma cutter into the man’s chest.
“Vince? Vince!” someone yelled.
Tanner shoved the man back, staying close to control his carbine despite Longcoat’s awful scream only inches from his face. He managed not to stumble over the other bodies as he pushed Longcoat into the pirate behind him, still holding the cutter against skin that had already burned through.
Muscles jumped in ahead of Dragons, trying to catch Longcoat only to be seared across the arm and hand as Tanner ripped the cutter away. Dragons got his riot gun up and over the pair, angling for a shot despite being close enough to swat Tanner with its barrel. A swipe of the cutter against the barrel instantly ruined the weapon.
Dragons kept coming in an awkward tackle. He stayed clear of the plasma cutter for a critical second, turning Tanner sideways in the airlock passage and pushing his back against the bulkhead.
The pirate was larger than Tanner and much stronger. He only needed a good grip. Instead, Dragons shrieked as Tanner ran the cutter up his leg and into his side, then away again before Tanner managed a self-inflicted wound.
Extricating himself from the tangle with a brutal elbow, Tanner threw a hammer blow into the face of the next pirate. It tagged Muscles squarely in the nose, buying a heartbeat to bring the cutter to bear. Muscles grabbed onto Tanner’s arms only a second too late to keep the burning green light away from his neck.
The kill came with a cost. Though Muscles fell, he pulled hard enough to tear away the plasma cutter on the way down.
“Shoot him!” shouted one of the remaining pirates.
“No!” warned Spikes, closest to Tanner. “Don’t hit the tube!”
Three more remained. The element of surprise was gone. Tanner jerked the crowbar from his belt. Beyond the scrum, the pirate farthest down the corridor tumbled back from the corner as a pipe wrench bounced off his head. The rest didn’t notice.
Spikes rushed in to curve around the mess of bodies, her cut-down assault rifle tucked in close under her right arm to guard against disarmament. She needed the angle to fire at him with the bulkhead in the background rather than the far more fragile vestibule connecting the two ships’ airlocks. The two-second delay and cramped quarters made the difference.
Tanner swept out with his empty hand, pushing the barrel away before she got it in line with his body. He saved himself from a direct hit as the gun went off, but not from the ricochet of bullets against the bulkhead. Pain tore along his back over his hip, forcing a yelp from his throat and a stiff jerk through his muscles. Tanner fought through it with a raging, downward swing of his crowbar aimed at her head. He only clipped her shoulder. More rounds popped off from the weapon before Spikes took her finger off the trigger, sending ricochets off the bulkhead in every direction.
He wound up for a repeat, but Spikes got her left arm up in time to deflect. Neither let go of the gun. Tanner kicked at her leg, doing little harm but costing her balance. Before she recovered, he planted the crowbar against her face. Spikes went down hard with her weapon in Tanner’s hand. Without even thinking, Tanner dealt another blow with the crowbar before dropping it on the deck.
Only the two at the passageway corner remained. The one in leather pants and the torn shirt lay on the deck, groaning and clutching his head. The other, bald and clad in a bulky jacket, struggled in a tangle against both Gina and Antonio. He shoved Gina hard, but she made him
pay for it. His gun clattered to the deck as she tumbled away.
The pirate surged back against Antonio, who still had him halfway tangled in a standing hold. Antonio got the worst of it as they both slammed into the bulkhead, hitting the back of his skull against the metal. Despite the pain, he held on. They wound up on the deck.
The pirate made it to his knees before Antonio could get off his back. He tugged a knife from his belt, intent on murder.
Tanner got there first. He jerked the pirate back by his collar, jammed the cut-down assault rifle against his spine and pulled the trigger.
Blood flew against the overhead and the young man on the deck beneath the pirate.
It wasn’t a long burst. A handful of rounds at most. His mind still deep in the fight, Tanner spun back around to face the airlock. He unloaded the rest of the magazine on the pirates strewn across the passage in case any could still fight.
For a single, jarring moment, nothing in his field of vision moved. Then he realized Gina was beside him, armed with the gun she’d torn from their last opponent. Antonio was on his back, shocked and stained with blood, but alive.
He wasn’t alone here. He’d never been alone. And he’d had a plan beyond this crowded rush of desperate violence.
“The cells,” he grunted.
“Over here,” huffed Gina. She turned to grab the bundle.
“Unh, fuck,” groaned the pirate at their feet. The man slowly rolled over onto his back, clutching the side of his bald head.
Tanner looked him over. The guy didn’t have any guns left, but he had something far more important clipped to his belt. Tanner snatched the grenade from its clip.
“What the fuck…?” The pirate turned over, crawling forward and up onto his hands and knees before he saw his fallen comrades. “Oh, what the fuck?”
“You have this set to a timed detonation, right?” Tanner asked, his voice ragged.
The pirate spun around, falling to his butt on the deck again, only to find an all new terror as he looked up. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head with fear, and with something else.