Give No Quarter (Privateer Tales Book 10)

by Jamie McFarlane

  "My life just gets easier once this is done," I agreed, which earned me a chuckle.

  For all of the posturing, unloading Hotspur worked just like it did anywhere else. Stevedores directed stevedore bots that had long forks jutting out from an arc-jet propulsion unit. The forks had the capacity to either grip or simply lift crates, depending on the gravity of the environment. In this particular case, a gravity generator was providing a .4g field, directly in line with the floor of Hotspur. I suspected that once we were undocked, the docking bay would revert to station normal, but that wouldn't be my issue.

  "How will you pay for the livestock transaction?" Vince Ferrante asked once we were done offloading the cargo.

  "Platinum?" I proposed.

  He nodded subtly, which I took as communication with his AI. "I've been given authorization to collect for the pens. I'll need fifteen hundred grams."

  I gritted my teeth. The price we'd been given was twelve hundred grams and I had to decide if I wanted to be taken advantage of. At a difference of three thousand credits, it was a dangerous precedent to set. If word got out that we were an easy touch, we'd have people lining up. On the other hand, Ferrante had real power and I had no idea how far I could push him.

  "That's a pretty substantial tip," I said.

  "Lot of mouths to feed." He glanced over his shoulder to his armed group. At least now I understood why they were along.

  "Thirteen hundred seems more in line with what I'm thinking," I said.

  "Sixteen hundred," he answered.

  I looked back into his eyes and saw only a cold stare. He was definitely not messing around. I sighed. "You're right. We've gone to a lot of trouble to get here. What's a few grams of platinum, given all that?" I asked and then paused for effect. "I'll tell you what. We've been pushed around by a lot of assholes and we're pretty much done with it. So, here's how this is going to go. The next number I give you is my final answer. You give me another number and we'll do this hard. Wouldn't be the first time for my crew, won't be the last. Thirteen hundred fifty grams and you need to start loading right now." I stared back at him, not blinking. We had even odds, having brought all of our crew.

  Finally, he nodded his head grudgingly. "I can work with that. But you owe me a drink."

  "Deal." I didn't extend my hand.

  Loading of the pen material only took fifteen minutes. I handed Ferrante a bag of platinum fingers after contacting the seller, verifying it was acceptable to do so.

  "Nicely done, Cap," Marny said once Hotspur's loading ramp retracted and we were back in a pressurized environment.

  "I thought we were gonna toss 'em a beating," Zebulon said.

  "I'd have thought you'd had enough of that on Ophir," Baker replied dryly.

  A glowering look from Marny cut off Zebulon's reply.

  "Hail Freedom Station," I requested.

  "Go ahead, Hotspur." It was the same woman I'd talked to last time.

  "We've successfully offloaded our cargo and taken on our new load. We're ready to detach and move Dirt Side."

  "Copy that, Hotspur. Please allow the station to fully eject your craft before moving into position on Dirt Side," she replied. In her message, a minimum safe distance was communicated. It would take several minutes before we'd be on our way.

  "What was that standoff all about?" Tabby asked.

  "Dock Master wanted three hundred grams of plat to finish delivering the pen material," I said. "Pissed me off."

  "We believe you handled the situation correctly," Jonathan interjected. "To have acted otherwise would have made you and your crew targets for the inhabitants of the station."

  "Doesn't seem to bother Beth Anne," I said.

  "Beth Anne Hollise trades influence," Jonathan replied. "Her strength is not physical, but rather a carefully crafted façade of connections. It is implied that to inflict harm upon her would invoke the wrath of more powerful individuals."

  "Whatever it is, she’s good at it," I said.

  "Here we go," Tabby said as Hotspur was gently flung from the Star Side. Skillfully, she arced our path and caught up with Dirt Side. As she did, I received docking instructions, which I flicked to her, the process of which looked much like what we'd experienced on Star Side. We docked a level below the grassy area. Of course it wasn't reasonable that we'd be parking on the grass, but I'd hoped.

  "How will we seal the ship, sir?" Mark-Ralph asked when I arrived. "Livestock won't survive vacuum."

  "They have a cowl," Nick replied. "It's part of what we're paying for."

  I looked through the armored glass and received a thumbs up from a much less well-armed group of farm hands. As soon as the loading ramp was down just a meter, a smell I'll never forget assaulted my nose. It was sickly sweet, somewhere between bilge goo and rotting fruit. It took everything I had not to gag and I raised my vac-suit just for the purpose of not becoming further exposed to the odor. I shook my head, wondering if this was how Hotspur would forever smell.

  "I'm to take possession of the construction bot." A woman stepped forward, offering her hand. I shook it and then bumped reading pads with her, exchanging a list of what we were expecting to load. "I think this is the first time we've sold livestock," she observed.

  I flicked instructions to the construction bot, which had easily built the pens in the short time we'd taken to sail between Star Side and Dirt Side.

  "You'll want to stand to the side," she said, directing me out of the way as eight four-hundred-kilogram bovine rushed from a tunnel within the station and were directed into the pens. I hadn’t initially understood the design of the pens, but as each animal was loaded, their handler expertly slid a gate across their rump, making a new channel for the next to be loaded.

  "How long can they survive confined in here?" I asked. "And I'm Liam Hoffen."

  "Juanita Ferrante. I've sent instructions for med-patches for each of the species. We'll keep them out of it for most of the trip. They can make it a near indefinite amount of time as long as you have sufficient food and water. It's not great for them, but they'll survive."

  "Ferrante. Any relationship to Vince Ferrante?" I asked.

  "Guilty. Husband," she replied. "Good man, a little hard around the edges."

  I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't about to get into it with her.

  "Is there local currency on the station? I'd like to get my folks shore-leave."

  "There's a chit you can get at the exchange," she said.

  "How many chits does a burger and three beers cost, do you figure?" I asked.

  She thought about it for a moment, "Beer will set you back three chits each. Protein burger will cost twice that unless you pay for a real beef burger, which is twenty. So, conservatively, twenty chits if you tip - which you should."

  "Much appreciated," I said. At eleven crew we'd need to hand out enough chits for two on-station meals, making it five hundred chits. I wondered how conversion from platinum to chits would work.

  "There you go," Juanita finally said after the last of the chickens was loaded onto a higher shelf. "You'll want to collect those eggs. They'll keep laying 'em if you do."

  "Hey, we're going to be here for a few days, any chance you have any workers who'd like to help us with the livestock while we are?" I asked.

  "What are you paying?"

  "What do I need to pay?" I asked.

  "Eighty chits a shift would do it," she said.

  "If I make it a hundred twenty, would you oversee and pay them?" I asked, still not knowing how much a chit was going to cost me.

  "Make it one-sixty and we'll bring our own feed and keep your hold clean," she said, holding her hand out to shake.

  Once the loading ramp had closed, the noise and smells were overwhelming. I wanted to talk to Nick, but nodded my head toward the door to the berth deck instead.

  "How'd we get talked into this?" I asked Nick once we were behind closed doors. "And what's a chit going to cost us?"

  "They're about twice a Mars credit. Exp
ensive beer and burgers, but then you're about as far out as people get in Sol," he explained.

  "Mark-Ralph." I placed my hand on the man's shoulder, causing him to flinch. "I don't for a minute blame you for not wanting to raise livestock."

  He smiled for the first time. "Actually making me a little homesick, Captain. That's a good looking bull you bought. I thought we'd never see the like on Ophir after those damn Ophie killed our last. For the record, you get used to the smell."

  I laughed. "Not in this lifetime. I think there are beers in the fridge, Marny. Your crew worked hard."

  "Way ahead of you, Cap," she said, handing tall-necked bottles out to the three Ophir natives.

  "We really getting shore leave?" Zebulon asked.

  "That's up to the Master Chief." I stepped onto the lift next to Nick and we disappeared onto the bridge.

  "Any word from Beers on salvage and repairs?" I asked.

  "They've already started repairs," Nick said. "Beers needs another thirty. If we want the Belirand crew he captured, we need six kilograms of platinum."

  "How about missiles?"

  "That's with a reload," Nick said. "If you're trying to figure out what we'll have left, we're down to twenty-five hundred grams after we buy chits for shore leave."

  I wanted to ask what the captured Belirand crew were costing me, but I didn't need that much temptation.

  "I was hoping we'd have more for our trip across to the Aeratroas region," I said.

  "One step at a time."

  "Tabbs, negotiate with Freedom Station and take us back to Intrepid. I feel soiled."

  ***

  I kicked my chair back so I could lean against the wall of the bar. If there was one thing Freedom Station didn't want for, it was bars. Ada, Tabby, Nick, Marny and I had left Mom and Jonathan in charge and found the least rowdy establishment we could.

  "So, was this really what you had in mind when you said you'd find Ophir's livestock?" Ada asked.

  "Not really. I just figured with enough hard currency we should be able to figure it out," I said.

  "The thing I want to know is why we haven't heard from Sterra or Buckshot Alderson," Nick said. "Do you think Belirand has such a tight lid on this that even Mars Protectorate doesn't know what’s going on? And what about Xie's report to the grey news feeds?"

  "Miss me already?" Xie cooed as she approached. I found it uncanny how she always knew when she was being talked about.

  "No," Tabby replied. "I thought we already dropped you off."

  "I'm here to volunteer," Xie said, ignoring Tabby. "I understand you're looking for crew."

  Tabby’s response was immediate. "No frakking way."

  "You think I can't figure out what's going on? The only account I could find about the battle got pulled from the feeds almost immediately. Belirand must have eaten the story. And that ship you stole? No one's heard a single word about it. Be real interested to see what would happen if you showed up over Puskar Stellar with it. You wouldn't make it out alive. You're buying breeding pairs of livestock. Doesn't take a genius to put this together. You've either broken into the TransLoc gates or you have tech that takes it one step further."

  "Stop," I said.

  "Why? Making you nervous?" she asked. "If I'm figuring this out, others will. You know me, Liam. I saved you on the Bakunawa when I didn't need to. Take another chance."

  "Liam. Don't," Tabby said.

  "We'll take you on under one condition," I said, ignoring Tabby. "If you betray me or mine, I'll space you myself. If you're coming along, you're swearing fealty. Understood?"

  "Agreed."

  "Cap. We have another problem. We have crew in a fight," Marny said.

  "Okay guys, back to the ship. That includes you, Xie," I said. "Marny, Tabby, you're with me."

  The scene we entered was pure chaos. Baker, Zebulon, and Ortel were standing with backs to each other over Mark-Ralph's body. Marny hadn't allowed them to carry anything larger than flechette pistols, although I noticed Baker had a nano-blade drawn. Five men, some I recognized from the stevedore crew that unloaded us earlier, stood with weapons drawn.

  "Sit rep, Baker," Marny barked as she plowed her way through the unruly crowd.

  "Mark-Ralph is down," Baker replied.

  I noticed a hand and a prodigious amount of blood lying next to Mark-Ralph's prone body. A blood trail led off toward the bar exit. Whoever lost their hand had made a hasty retreat.

  "It’s Ferrante and his crew. They don't like how you treated them at the docks," Zebulon added hastily.

  "So you attack my crew?" I pulled my blaster and turned toward the stevedore crew. I'd read enough of the station's laws to know there would be no sheriff showing up to mete out justice. As long as the station itself wasn't attacked, inhabitants were encouraged to settle disputes amongst themselves. "Where's Ferrante?"

  Initially, I didn't see where the shots came from and was grateful to Anino for the grav-suit's capacity to absorb light weapons fire. My suit's helmet stiffened and my HUD targeted the individual who'd shot at me. A quarter of a second later, that idiot was targeted by Marny's tactical program and before I returned fire, Tabby had responded. The fins of three flechette darts quivered in the man’s chest as he fell in slow motion to the deck. I had to get things under control or there would be more bloodshed.

  "STOP!" I yelled. "We're in armor and this is a blaster." I spun around, brandishing my Ruger, looking for anyone else who might take a potshot.

  "Situation to your right, Cap," Marny said over the tactical channel.

  I spun and watched as the crowd parted from the opposite side of the bar. It was as if a plow had rolled through and I wasn't overly surprised when Admiral Penna emerged. He was shorter than I'd expected, but that wasn't unusual for me and people of power. For some reason, I always made them taller in my mind.

  "Your man was provoked, but he escalated the situation," Penna proclaimed.

  "I'd like to withdraw and get my man to our medical bay," I said. "Do we have a problem here?"

  "You do not and we are not as lawless as you seem to believe. Ferrante will be punished for his attack on your crew. On behalf of Freedom Station, I apologize. We would very much like to keep Loose Nuts as a trading partner," he said.

  I leaned down to check Mark-Ralph. He was dead.

  "Ferrante is on the deck, Cap. Tabby's darts weren't fatal," Marny informed me over our private tactical channel.

  I walked over to where Ferrante lay. His bleeding arm had been cuffed by a med-patch. I pulled the darts from his chest, rousing him, and lay an emergency med-patch onto the torn skin. "Get up. You have taken from me and now I claim you," I said.

  "Captain?" Admiral Penna asked with a note of warning in his voice.

  "Is it not your law, Admiral?" I asked. "Blood for blood?"

  "It is… But this man has a wife," he said.

  "A lovely woman," I agreed. "And what of Mark-Ralph's family and his responsibilities?"

  "You are a hard man, Captain Hoffen."

  SHANGHAI

  "We're not done talking about Xie," Tabby said as we worked our way through cluttered passageways on the Star Side of Freedom Station, heading for the elevators.

  "Understood." My heart was still racing from the quick decisions I'd had to make back at the bar. Xie Mie-su was far from my mind. I was half pulling, half dragging Ferrante along behind us.

  My tactical display lit up with two targets following behind at ten meters.

  "Zebulon, Baker, take this one to the ship and drop him in the brig. Have Silver provide medical," I ordered. Establish comm, Nick James. "Nick, I've got crew coming up the elevator. Can you provide an escort once they get topside?"

  "Yup. Marny has us on standby," he answered.

  "Marny, we need to make a stand. If we let these guys run us out of here, we're never coming back," I said.

  "Are we coming back, Cap?"

  "Not running today. You with me?" I asked.

  "Never a question,
" she answered. I felt a tug on my finger where my engagement ring sat. Tabby and I had rings that shared a quantum crystal that could be excited simply by touch. She was communicating her support of my decision, no matter what.

  The number of targets behind us had grown from two to five. My tactical display prioritized them and also highlighted potential cover in case a firefight broke out. I stepped forward with Tabby and Marny on either side.

  "Far enough," I said. "Go home or we'll let this play out."

  "You think you can take on the entire station?" One of the men stepped out from a dark storefront.

  "I don't see an entire station. All I see is a handful of thugs who picked a fight and lost," I said. "It's over; leave it alone."

  "You don't get it. Who do you think we are? We run the docks, cannons … everything. You think you've won? You're dead. You just don't know it," he said.

  "I'll be sure to pass that along to the Admiral," I said.

  "He can't be everywhere. Mistakes happen."

  "Glad we worked that out." I turned back to the elevator. My HUD would warn me if a weapon was raised in my direction. "Nick, do you have the crew?"

  "They're just getting off the elevator," he replied.

  I wasn't surprised that we hadn't made it more than a few meters down the passageway when my HUD blinked red on the lead figure. He'd drawn a weapon and the three of us responded in kind. As for me, it was an easy move to unclip my Ruger from the chest holster, turn and align the targeting reticle. The man's first shot plowed into my shoulder and burned; a much heavier load than those used in the bar. My shot ended up firing wild.

  According to my HUD, four out of five of our pursuers were actively targeting me. I made a tactical decision to seek cover as two more rounds punched into my armor. Fortunately, the suit was better able to absorb these shots - or perhaps it was the adrenaline.

  As with most combat in space, gun fights in hallways are pretty quick events. I’ve read about the stupidity of showing up to a gun fight with a knife. While that does sound like a bad idea, there's a close corollary. Don’t show up to a gun fight without armor and communications, especially when your opponent has both. So, much like my battle with Tullas, the attackers had focused all their efforts on a single target, in this case, me. While I'd taken the brunt of the opening salvo, these geniuses had all but ignored Marny and Tabby. They left my teammates, who were the two most offensively devastating in our group, complete tactical freedom.