Cool Pursuit: Chaos Core Book 2
Page 16
“That’s your share, I sent the whole crew their portions, but used a password to delay delivery,” Spin replied. “I wanted you to get your share first so it wouldn’t be a surprise when I give everyone else theirs at the vote.”
“He’s going to blame you, he’ll put a bounty on your head,” Nigel said.
“With what money? He doesn’t even have hidden accounts anymore,” Spin said. “He really should have had the patience to let me teach him how to hide his money, instead of telling me to do it for him.”
“Being lazy can make you stupid,” Nigel said. “Another Boro-ism. Guess it’s true. So, those bots are loading more money than anyone aboard the Cool Angel has ever seen onto our little ship.”
“Yes,” Spin said. “If we didn’t have slave marks on us, and we could spend it wherever we liked, we’d be wealthy.”
“Is it all from White? I mean, I’m just wondering because I need to know how much he’s losing.”
“This is from ransoming Della and Mirra’s old masters, so it’s ill-gotten, but it’s mine, and partially theirs.”
“Wow, it makes my shopping trip look a little small.”
“We’re finished transferring the cargo,” the guard said. “Would you like to scan it to make sure it’s all there?”
Spin got aboard the shuttle and used the basic scanner built into her computer to scan the open cases of glittering currency. “It’s all there, thank you,” she called to the guard outside.
“You are welcome, we at the Interplanetary Currency Exchange wish you a long life and good journey.”
“Thank you, good luck,” Nigel said as he boarded the shuttle. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the coins and rectangular slips of platinum in their cases. The fine diamond coating on the UCA credit slips glittered in the half-light while the regular platinum coins caught the half-light on their edges and star punched faces. “You know, you could buy a serious ship with all this money,” he said. “Pay a crew for a while too.”
“I know, but it wouldn’t last under our names. The Core Authority still has us marked as slaves, even if their records show we’re still in the Estate’s custody.”
“Ah, right. The Estate?” he asked as he helped her close the cases and replace the deck plate over the small cargo compartment.
“Oh, I meant in the Countess’ custody.”
“Well, we could head towards British Alliance territory, they still don’t allow slavery there,” Nigel said. “If we got a wormhole generator for this thing, we could do it for sure. It would be cramped for a couple weeks, but possible.”
“I know your head is spinning right now,” Spin said, sitting down. “But this money doesn’t change as much as you think it does. I still have things I need to do here, and I still can’t trust more than a couple people, maybe, so I don’t know where I’m going for sure next. With the money you have now you really could run, resettle somewhere where you’d be free, that would be safe, smart.”
“Why do I get the feeling that I’d probably be going alone?” Nigel asked. “You wouldn’t come with me if I did, would you.”
“There are things I want to do in this sector,” Spin said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to start a new life somewhere safer though.”
“No, I’ll go where you’re going. I owe you, and you’ve always been just, well, nice to me. No matter what I get up to, or whatever trouble I got in, you never judged me. You’re right, that’s more important than money. What would I do all alone in British space anyway?”
“Thank you, Nigel,” Spin said, wondering if she’d have to send him off on his own anyway. Her future may be short, but it could get dangerous. She didn’t want to lead him to his death, like she did with his friends and uncle. “What’s in the case? What did you buy?”
“Well, it doesn’t glitter or shine like your take,” Nigel said, his smile returning. He opened the case to reveal two vicious looking holstered sidearms. “They’re Raptor 9’s.” He took one from the case, drew the thickly barrelled weapon and decoupled the front half. “Without the forward section of the gun it’s a powerful stunner that’s legal practically anywhere. The discharge is adjustable, and it has seven thousand shots on the lowest setting, which is enough to stun the average sized human. It only has about three hundred fifty shots on the highest setting, but that’s enough to stun a small family of Nafalli.”
“Okay, looking good so far,” Spin said, taking one of the holsters and slipping the straps through loops in her high boot.
“Okay, here’s why this is one of the best weapons they had,” Nigel said, snapping the front of the pistol on. “This is a particle emitter, and it changes the stun energy into a lethal bolt that, along with the accelerated particles, can cut through light hull plating with one or two shots. It’s a little loud, but that’s because of the accelerator.” He handed the weapon to her and smiled. “With the power recycling technology in the weapon, you can get about three thousand shots out of it before replacing the battery cartridge. Fires at eleven rounds a second on full auto, and it can sustain that for a thirty-five seconds before having to cool down.”
There was a significant weight to the weapon, but it felt balanced, and good, powerful in her hand. “I’m usually not a gun person, but this is a beautiful weapon.”
“They said it was one of the most reliable models they’ve sold. A few customers there told me I couldn’t go wrong either,” he said, taking his own and strapping it on.
Spin set hers to single fire, and made sure the safety was on before slipping the whole assembled weapon into its holster and locking it in. “This is good, thank you.”
“Oh, that’s not all,” he said. “I had enough left over to get us these Rank Three shield emitters. They’re generic, but they’ll protect you from physical or energy damage for a minute before running out of power, or a few hits before they burn out.”
Spin had seen them before, a short tube that was thin enough to hide in clothing. She accepted one and stood so she could calibrate it by holding a tiny recessed button on the side of it. It blinked green and chirped twice to signal that it was finished measuring her shape, then she put it in an inside pocket.
“You’ve seen those before,” Nigel said.
“Just from the boarding crew on the Cool Angel. Sun made sure I watched and learned about every part of how the Angel’s crew worked. This was one of those things that the boarders who could afford them swore by.”
“Yeah, they cost about as much as the guns. I always thought shielding was way overpriced,” Nigel said.
“They still sell by the thousands, I’m sure,” Spin said. “That’s probably the problem.”
“So, did I do all right?” Nigel asked.
“Really well,” Spin replied. “Thank you. I knew you’d, wait, one sec, Mirra’s calling. “
“Spin!” came Mirra’s voice over her communicator. “The ship is under attack, there are a bunch of people trying to get in, they’ve got exoframes.”
“Where’s Dorian?”
“I don’t know; Leland says he left the ship a while ago. Jorin tried to call him, but his comm isn’t even on.”
“Have you tried Sun?”
“She has privacy mode on, we left her a message.”
“We’re on our way,” Spin replied.
20
From the turret in the Long Runner, Spin could see the section of the landing field reserved for the Fleet feather as it came into view. The metal walls of the so called secure space had been bent and torn open and a small group of people guarded the rear of the Fleet Feather while three more of them in exo-suits made to amplify their strength many times over were working on tearing through the hull at the aft of the ship.
The turret beeped cheerily and the small targeting screen turned green, indicating that the guns had a full charge. They were too far up to be noticed, but as soon as she opened fire she knew all attention would be on their lightly armed shuttle. “Still no word from Sun?” Nigel
asked from the pilot’s seat below.
“Nothing,” Spin said, feeling even more trust for her mentor slipping away. “I’m going to start with warning shots.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, since they’re about to get in there. They’re working on an unarmoured interior cargo bay bulkhead.”
Spin raked the ground between the five people guarding the rear of the ship, and they all ran for cover. The turret reported that it was already at low power, and needed four seconds to recharge. “I think we got ripped off on this ship.”
“On the weapon systems, sure, I mentioned that to Sun. Everything else is great though,” Nigel said.
Three of the workers from the Cool Angel began firing back, their small sidearms shouldn’t have done much to their shields, but Spin saw a significant drain in defensive strength, and they began to recharge, adding five more seconds to the recharge time on her turret. “Unfortunately, the weapon systems are pretty important right now. This disappointment might get us killed.”
“That bad?” Nigel asked.
“My turret is telling me that it needs another twenty-eight seconds to recharge now, it just keeps going up. Get some distance so everything can recharge, and see what you can do about re-routing power.”
“Can’t do that,” Nigel said. “There’s no control for diverting power. This is a glorified runabout,” he replied as he began to guide the Long Runner into a course that would put them out of range.
A bald crewman in an exosuit emerged from the rear of the Fleet Feather brandishing a shard of metal torn from somewhere inside the ship and he hurled it at them like a javelin. Spin felt the shard penetrate the hull beneath her feet, and heard a change in the vessel’s sound that was too drastic to be minor. “Nigel, are you okay?”
“Missed me, but hit our port thruster, the controls are trying to compensate, but it feels like they’re fighting me too. I told you I’m not much of a pilot.”
“No you didn’t!” Spin said.
“Oh, maybe that was just in my head,” Nigel said. “We’re landing, by the way. Quickly.”
“No, we’re crashing,” Spin said, bracing herself as she saw the ground, the sky, then the ground flash by her turret display. It chirped cheerfully, indicating that it was fully charged again as they rushed towards the ground. “Slow us down?”
“Trying,” Nigel said through his teeth.
At the last second, the shuttle whirled violently, Spin heard the main thrusters fire harder than ever before and was thrown against one side of her seat. Another hard jostle followed less than a second behind. All was silent except for a polite voice that stated; “You have suffered a hard landing. Please return to a Pearson Dealership to have your Long Runner serviced.”
“Saved it!” Nigel declared. “Are you okay?”
“Doing fine,” Spin said, slipping out of the chair and dropping to the main deck behind the cockpit. She drew her new firearm and activated it. While she waited a moment for it to power on, she couldn’t help but notice that he was right, he really did land their ship on its landing gear and, according to the simple display in the cockpit, they only sustained damage to their main port thruster and two struts under the ship. “How’d you manage that?”
“Trick with the thrusters, forced the ship to auto level by increasing throttle at the last second,” Nigel said, powering his Raptor handgun on. It immediately came to life, unlike hers, which seemed to be taking its time. “What now?”
Spin was about to answer, but then the calm voice of a woman began coming from her sidearm. “Thank you for purchasing a Raptor Nine, Revision Three sidearm from Diretech. This short tutorial is made to -”
“Skip tutorial,” Spin said to her sidearm.
“I already went through all this,” Nigel said.
“Skipping tutorial,” the weapon replied. “Please pay close attention to these important advisories.”
“Skip advisories!” Spin said.
“I’m sorry, we are legally obliged to share these important advisories concerning your purchase. Please pay attention.”
“Seriously?” Spin asked as she peeked through the cockpit window and saw two men in exosuits and three others brandishing side arms approaching their ship.
“I did this with mine in the store,” Nigel said.
Spin hit the button to open the rear hatch of the ship, and kicked the lowering mechanism, forcing the ramp to drop faster. She drew her other sidearm from inside her jacket and stepped outside firing at the nearest crewmember, who crumpled as she took two sizzling hits, one in the middle of her chest, the other in the shoulder. Before anyone could get a bead on her, Spin was behind the ship.
“Please ensure that the Raptor Nine is powered down before cleaning. It is important to clean your weapon before storage, after storage and every ten thousand rounds,” the voice from her new sidearm droned. “Do not point your weapon at yourself for any reason. Looking directly at the firing mechanism while it is facing you should not be necessary when cleaning or using the weapon properly.”
Spin waited for several shots to pass before leaning out the other side and scoring a direct hit on one of the exosuit clad crewmen. She cursed under her breath as she saw the woman she’d shot before taking cover behind a large waste bin, she seemed no worse for wear thanks to the protection of the crew suit she was wearing.
“Do not attempt to connect the Raptor Nine to another device with the intention of power sharing. The power cell inside can be used for other purposes, but the high powered systems inside your new weapon are not compatible with unrecognized components,” the voice continued.
“Cover me,” Nigel said. “I’m coming out!”
Spin ran to the other side of the ship and leaned out, firing as quickly as she could with her old sidearm. It didn’t seem to do much against the basic protective jumpsuits the crew of the Cool Angel wore, and they were quickly learning that. Even still, Nigel came out firing his own Raptor sidearm, and Spin couldn’t help but appreciate the weapon as it rapidly spat bright bolts of light that scarred the plastcrete covered ground and one of the exosuits. Nigel managed to join her on the other side of the ship without getting shot.
“Finally, we at Diretech hope you have a long and healthy life thanks to the defensive capabilities you’ve gained with your wise purchase. Thank you,” the voice concluded. The weapon finished powering up and Spin re-holstered her light weapon, finally drawing the Raptor from where it had been speaking against her thigh.
“You’re going to like that,” Nigel said with a grin.
“Last warning!” Spin shouted. She took a deep breath as the sounds of laughter drifted from the other side of the shuttle. “We will shoot to kill.”
“Come on out, baby!” said one of the crewmen on the other side of the ship. He punctuated his goad by rocking the shuttle.
Spin turned her new weapon up to its maximum setting. “This ship was brand new today,” she muttered angary. “Sure I could buy a fleet of them now, but I like this one.”
“What are you going to do?” Nigel asked, looking a little frightened.
She activated her personal shield and ran from cover, they were ready, firing at her but not striking at first. She opened fire on the first crewman she saw, white-yellow light piercing the air between them at a rate so rapid that it almost looked like a steady stream. His suit did not protect him. Wherever the weapons’ fire touched, it left molten, charred or flaming damage behind. Spin was able to hit a second crewman in the leg before diving behind the cover of a heavy storage crate. The creaking and popping of the metal on the other side told her that her enemies were firing at it, her cover would be gone before long.
The personal shield beeped a warning and began to heat up. She tossed it on the ground, where it sparked and steamed, surprised that it was burned out, she didn’t notice that she’d taken any hits. The enemy fire shifted focus as Nigel took pot-shots from behind the Long Runner, several of which dug into a crewman wearing an exosuit.
Everyone else ran for cover, except for Spin, who took aim at the crewman who was trying to rock the Long Runner onto its side. When her aim was sure, she squeezed the trigger, ripping through him with more rounds than she could count in one second. He fell to the ground, bleeding and burning, missing his right arm.
A riot of music, confetti and novelty spray webbing erupted from the rear of the Fleet Feather, and Spin couldn’t help but grin as she and Nigel stepped out from behind cover, their weapons pointed at the three remaining crewmembers from the Cool Angel.
“What the fuck was that?” asked one as he stared in disbelief at the colourful scene.
“It was a party bomb,” Nigel chuckled from behind them. “Picked it up in a store I hit a while ago.”
It couldn’t have done any harm to a new-born baby at point blank range, but it was just as good as a big, fat grenade for the commotion it caused. The enemy crew were taking cover from it, exposing their backs to Spin and Nigel. “Drop your weapons, kick them over there,” Spin ordered.
“What the hell, Terrance?” spat a long haired crewmember. “Grenade?”
“It was big, round, green and ticking! Someone must have painted it or something, then dropped it through the hole I made over my head,” replied Terrance, the exoskeleton clad man they’d sent to the rear of the Fleet Feather to open the aft bulkhead.
“Take off the exo-frame,” Nigel said. “Now.”
“Why are you here?” Spin asked as the enemy crew took everything that could be considered a weapon off and she checked faces. She didn’t recognize any of them.
“We got a message from the First Officer saying he got nabbed, and he was here,” said Terrance.
“We’re giving him medical treatment because he tried to run when we spotted him,” Spin said. “He’s fine, we’ll be bringing him back to the Angel in an hour or two when our medic clears him. Did you knock before trying to rip through the hull?”