by Gorg Huff
“What’s that quote from?” Jenny asked, watching Sara . . . apparently for pointers.
Sara sat back down and Jimmy looked at Jenny with a grin. “I don’t know, but it’s very old. Maybe Roman.”
“Well, if you guys can put your hormones on hold for a few minutes . . .” Danny turned to Givens. “Chuck, if there’s a chance you’re going to run into crazed killers, I’d rather you have a crazed killer on your side. It’s not so much you, Petra, or Fred I’m worried about. It’s the un-modded civilians. They lack both the genetics and the training. And yes, Sara, King Edward, and I have been trained in combat. It’s part of growing up back home.”
Givens just shook his head, and Danny couldn’t blame him.
Location: Skull Station Food Mart
Standard Date: 12 30 631
Eddy looked around the market as John lectured Jenny on fruit. Boring, Eddy thought, wishing he hadn’t been assigned as babysitter to the shoppers.
“See, Jenny,” John Gabriel said. He touched an avocado to show her how ripe it was. “You don’t want to squash it. You want to check and see if there’s any give under the skin. But not too much g—”
There was a flicker in the corner of Eddy’s eye. A movement that shouldn’t be there, and combined with the warning, he reacted. He turned and saw a big woman. She had a flechette gun in one hand and a bloody cut across her face. That was the thing that sent Eddy into action. She moved like a wounded animal—a desperate, wounded animal.
All that was peripheral, fed into his mind as tactical data. What he reacted to was a type of motion, combined with the instructions he had in regard to Jenny and John. He was to look after them, protect them while they did the grocery shopping for the ship.
He spun and shoved. Jenny was closest, so he shoved her into John to get them down behind the fruit stand. He almost made it. The woman shot just as they were going down, but her gun followed them and that left Eddy a clear shot. He took it with no hesitation at all.
Center chest, five flechette burst.
Check for other threats. There. Little woman, aiming at him.
But slow. So slow.
He shifted the front of the barrel a few millimeters and fired again.
Check again. There. A man. Also armed. Staring in shock.
Not worth the chance. Shift, fire.
He was down.
Check.
Nothing.
Eddy gave the foodmart a good look while the patrons looked around in confusion, and some—the most alert—dove for the floor.
Nothing.
No more threats.
Then he checked on Jenny and John. John was fine. He’d ended up with Jenny on top of him. But Jenny was still falling when the woman fired. The flechettes stitched a line from her left hip to her right ear, ripping open her back and neck.
“Pan, we need a medic. Jenny’s down,” Eddy sent. He looked around. People were still scattering, most not even sure what was happening. He set the flechette gun on the floor in the aisle, well away from him. Station Security would be here soon, and with three dead and another injured, anyone armed was likely to get shot.
The thing that amazed Eddy even as he acted was how calm he felt. It was just like a sim. He didn’t feel a thing. Not even concern for Jenny.
Station Security arrived and Eddy told them what happened. Well, mostly what happened. He told them the man was aiming at Jenny, but the truth was the man had his gun out, but was too busy staring at his dead companions to be aiming at anyone.
Jenny was taken to the med section.
Eddy was taken into custody.
He didn’t resist.
Location: Station Security Office, Skull Station
Standard Date: 12 30 631
“What do you have for me, Al?” Sylvia Avery asked.
“I have a kid I never want to meet in a dark alley, Boss,” Al said. “You know those crazy fucks off the Brass Ass? Three of them went after this bunch off the Pandora, and this kid took them all down in less than four seconds. And that was with them shooting first. Well, one of them shooting first. The other two didn’t get a shot off.”
“You sure they were involved?”
“The frigging vids show them with guns out, and all of a sudden, the kid . . .” Al described the incident from beginning to end, calling up the vids. Sylvia watched the vids and decided that she and Skull System would be very polite to the crew of the Pandora.
“Okay, Al. Patch me through to this kid. He’s in the cells, right?”
“Interview room C, Boss. He came along quiet as a lamb. Said he’d already commed his ship. Oh, Boss . . . he says he’s the king of Franklin.”
“What?”
“He says he’s Edward VI of Franklin, and he inherited the throne after the Cordobas killed the rest of his family.”
“Oh, hell. You know, Al, he might be. The Pandora reported the Cordoba incursion to Drake Space when they came in. But they didn’t mention having the last of the Franklin royals on board.”
The screen shifted to the interview room. There in the seat on the suspect’s side of the table sat a teenager. A good looking reddish-blond lad, well-built. Longish hair, a bit tousled. If she were looking for a single word, it would be “lithe.” He seemed like he could take a nap or kill you with equal ease.
She opened the com so he could see her. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty?” Sylvia made it a question.
“Yes.” He nodded regally. The kid did regal pretty well. “And you are?”
“Sylvia Avery. Princess Sylvia Avery, if we went in for that sort of title around here. You want to tell me what happened?”
“I would like to resume contact with my ship before making any comments for the record. I’m sure you’ve seen vids, so the timeline of events should be clear enough.”
Silvia could tell that the kid wanted to add something, probably about how he hadn’t shot first. But he didn’t. The interview rooms didn’t allow hook up to the station net, and the kid’s ear bug would have been pulled when he was brought in.
“Well, this isn’t Drake Space and we don’t have diplomatic relations with your homeworld, so technically you don’t have the right to avoid self-incrimination. But, as a courtesy, I’ll get you a link to the Pandora.”
“Thank you,” he said, then shut up again.
Sylvia wondered how well she was going to manage to stay polite to the Pan’s crew, after all. But she went ahead and called the Pan.
Location: Pandora, off Skull Station
Standard Date: 12 30 631
“I am starting to miss the days when you were the only one I had to bail out of jail,” Pandora told Danny while she was talking to Sylvia Avery.
“It’s tradition,” Danny said distractedly. He was going over the vids of the encounter in the foodmart and checking on Jenny. Also, he didn’t have anything like Pan’s ability to multitask.
“Pan, get eyes on the Brass Ass.”
“I already have them under observation, Captain.”
“Well, make it closer. If the skipper was that fucking nuts, who knows what the crew is going to do? Meanwhile, you’d better let me talk to the locals.”
The screen lit up and Sylvia Avery was looking out at him, still in the open-necked pirate shirt and vest, but without the tricorn.
“Captain Gold, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but we have a member of your crew in our interview room.”
“I’ve just been reviewing the vid captures from the foodmart. I would say it’s clear that our crew was attacked and Eddy was simply defending himself and his companions.”
“I tend to agree, Captain. But there are some questions.”
“Yes?”
“First, you didn’t mention that you had the king of Franklin on your ship. Why is that?”
“Because, at least for the moment, it doesn’t matter. At present, the government of Franklin is in the hands of Avery Chin, chairman of the board of the newly formed Franklin Governance Corporation. Eddy
is a refugee, and probably subject to arrest anywhere in Cordoba space.”
“Fair enough. But why did they attack your crew? Are you saying they were out for the reward for King Edward VI?”
So Danny told her about the fight off Morland, an edited version. The one that didn’t include how they dealt with the hunter-nuke. In fact, this version didn’t include the nuke at all.
“Whatever caused you to interfere, Captain?” Sylvia sounded honestly curious. Not condemning, just as though she didn’t understand.
Danny didn’t say “I don’t like pirates,” though he was tempted to. Instead, he said, “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” He shrugged to indicate that he couldn’t explain it either.
Sylvia’s look said Danny was a nut job, but not the first she’d known.
“Jenny Starchild is owed compensation for the attack and her injuries,” Danny said.
“Don’t you think three dead bodies is enough compensation?”
“No!” Danny said. “I don’t think three, or three million, dead bodies compensate her at all. Jenny didn’t want them dead, and she didn’t benefit from their deaths. The deaths simply stopped further injury to a twelve-year-old girl who was merely doing the grocery shopping.”
“You aren’t suggesting that my government owes compensation, are you?”
“Not necessarily. But I believe the Brass Ass certainly does. Surely the ship is liable for the actions of its captain and crew. Besides, from what I hear, they’ve taken quite a few prizes. There’s someone else on that ship. Someone who can be held accountable. Whoever owns it.” Danny knew full well that there were several people left aboard the Brass Ass, none of whom had the ability to fly the ship. Sally was researching the situation even before the attack and updated him with a full crew list as he and Sylvia were talking.
“That brings up a delicate question. Most of the ships that dock here are fairly short on papers and such. You’re one of only four ships in Skull System where the owner—according to the Cordobas and the Drakes—is actually in command.”
“So how do you normally handle such things?”
Sylvia laughed out loud. “We ask, Captain. Just like we asked you who you were.” She made a gesture in the air that Danny interpreted as moving a virtual mouse, calling up a file. “In fact, the Brass Ass is listed as the personal property of Rosalyn Flatt. Now, since Rosalyn had no next of kin in the system, that would normally mean that the ship became the property of Skull System. But the crew could make a claim that would be judged by us. Are you making a claim?”
Danny looked at her for a heartbeat. “Yes. Two, in fact. First for Jenny Starchild as compensation for the injury done her, and second for King Edward VI of Franklin as the just spoils of a duel through attack.”
“What’s a duel through attack?”
“Cybrant law,” Danny said, “which might or might not carry any weight here. If you’re attacked on Cybrant and you come out the winner, you have a claim on the estate of the attacker. Depending on the circumstances of the attack and what a Cybrant court judges as how justified the attack was, you can receive the whole of the estate.” Danny smiled a thin razor’s edge of a smile, remembering what Sylvia said on that first comm call. He wondered if she still thought she could be that hard.
She didn’t smile back. “Your claims have been registered, Captain.”
Location: Skull Station, Interview Room C
Standard Date: 12 30 631
Eddy looked at the wall and didn’t see it. He focused inward and adjusted his heartbeat to metronome precision. He stopped production of adrenaline and activated the scrubbers to pull it out. He was on an adrenaline jag more intense than any since he was ten.
He liked it.
That was the really dangerous part. He’d never been in a real fight before. Training bouts, but nothing real. The whole world was sharp as crystal and clear as glass, and he didn’t feel any regret for the people he just killed. None at all.
He wanted to do it again. In spite of the fact that Jenny was injured, he wanted to do it again.
A small, still-rational, part of him was disgusted by that. Deeply disgusted.
Another small part of him was urging him, for the benefit of the people around him, to at least pretend that he was disturbed by what he’d had to do.
But he wasn’t.
He felt great. Which mostly counteracted the effect that the government of the Skull System felt they might get from leaving him here in this not-quite-cell.
A smile twitched Eddy’s lips, and he started to whistle a classic from before the first jump. “Bad to the Bone,” with all the complexity of the rhythmic structure.
∞ ∞ ∞
Watching the kid on the monitors, Al blanched. He knew the song, though he’d never heard anyone able to whistle it. And given the circumstances, it was altogether too appropriate.
∞ ∞ ∞
Eddy’s rendition was cut off when the screen lit and Sylvia appeared.
“Are you making any claims against the Brass Ass?” she asked.
Eddy was hard-pressed not to blink in surprise, but he had himself under control. By now, very firm control, so he didn’t react, not visibly nor by even a slight jump in his heart rate. Instead, he considered.
Danny, Cybrant, duel through attack.
Then he thought of Jenny.
“Yes,” he said. “But I will yield first claim to Jenny Starchild, who was injured by attackers in hiding through no fault of her own. I’ll take the leftovers.”
“This isn’t Cybrant Five,” Sylvia said.
“You asked if I were making a claim. I am. And in the Franklin System, attackers from ambush owe their victims. I can give you law and precedent if you’re interested.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Sylvia wanted to curse. In fact, there was a law in Skull System that was fairly closely analogous to the Cybrant Five rule, and she’d hoped that Eddy would invalidate the claim Danny Gold made by declining to make one when asked.
But instead he reinforced it.
The girl, Jenny Starchild, was still in surgery. The flechettes ripped the kid up good.
In a way, Sylvia was in a situation similar to the one Stella Jones was in on Concordia Station. She needed to be seen to be fair. That was even more important among armed pirates than in more civilized locations. If the Avery family stopped being seen as fair, they would soon stop being, period. “Very well. Your claim against the Brass Ass and your yielding of primacy to Jenny Starchild have both been registered.”
“Thank you, Princess Sylvia,” the youngster said with such a friendly, innocent smile that Sylvia was tempted to laugh.
Until she remembered the video.
Location: Brass Ass, off Skull Station
Standard Date: 12 30 631
As she floated onto the bridge, Kia asked Jonathan, a dark, thin man with a knife blade of a nose, “Where’s the skipper?” Jon had a scar on his right temple where a botched interface surgery left him marked, and he wore that side of his head shaved to show it off.
“How the fuck should I know?” Jon shrugged, then reached out a hand to stop his drift. “Last I saw, she had the first and Loly with her and was headed to the station.”
“That was hours ago.”
“Only a couple.”
“Look, Jon. Call the station and see what’s up.”
“Come on, Kia. The longer she’s gone, the better I like it.”
Kia looked at him and he nodded. Mutiny was a constant consideration on the Brass Ass. Constantly considered because the captain was crazy and constantly rejected because the captain was a fucking homicidal maniac with eyes in the back of her head. That was why Quinton Williams, who was a scary bastard in his own right, got off in Donnybrook.
Jonathan turned back to the comm screen and, using his interface, called up the station. “What the fuck?”
“What?”
“The skipper’s dead!” Jonathan said. “Killed along with the first a
nd Loly. At the foodmart. By some kid off that free trader, the Pandora.”
“The Pandora?” Kia remembered that ship. She was aboard at the time and sort of liked Pete Gannon. He was a fun guy, in love with the adventure of it all. But that was mostly beside the point. When they docked here, the skipper claimed the Brass Ass as her personal property, not owned by the crew. Kia knew for a fact that the skipper’s family disowned her once the first mutiny happened.
“Let me at that comm.” Kia kicked the bulkhead to launch herself to the comm section, and Jonathan looked at her in surprise. She shoved him away from the comm and called the station. Then she registered a claim on the Brass Ass as heir to the skipper. She didn’t think she’d get it, but she figured making the claim might get her something.
Half an Hour Later
Jonathan looked at Kia’s body, floating in the passage at the captain’s door. He scratched the side of his head, then kicked off the deck, flipped, and kicked again, sending him back toward the bridge.
Once he got there, he made his own claim on the ship. Two, actually. As Kia’s heir and as the skipper’s heir.
Most of the rest of the present crew registered a claim on the ship, either as individuals or as a group. Mostly as both.
Location: Skull Station, Administrator’s Office
Standard Date: 12 30 631
Sylvia looked at the list of claims. Then she got on the comm and called her dad. Sylvia was the station administrator, but her father was the System Administrator, and her family claimed ownership of the system. She reported the events.
Her dad listened and said, “It’s your call, hon, but I’d stay out of it.” Then he stopped. “No. Syl, find for the king of Franklin, but insist that he recognize Skull System.”
“Oh, come on, Dad!”
“I know. It doesn’t mean anything real, but the Franklin royal house are a Drake connection. If the kid ever gets his house back, it will be a real shot at legitimacy.”
“Dad, I know you and Elizabeth care about that, but honestly, I don’t. Screw the Drakes and the Cordobas they rode in on.”
“We have over a million people living on the planet now, pumpkin. Those people can’t run for it if the Drakes or Cordobas manage to get through the forts. Besides, what’s it going to cost you? One dinky little patroller with a few hunter-nukes. I’ll tell you what. You get us the Franklin kid’s official recognition and we’ll pay the station for the frigging ship.”