Shiver Me Timbers

by Chris Hechtl

  “Not yet,” the Tauren replied, wondering if his counterpart would ever see the light.

  “Not ever. We're not giving up our sovereignty to you or anyone.”

  “So you say. But eventually your people are going to see they are being left out. That you are holding them back. Eventually, you're going to be out of a job.”

  “Maybe. Then again, maybe they'll see what the pirates do to you and realize it's not worth the shiny rewards you are promising.”

  <()>^<()>

  Tau-X3301

  Captain Darimore felt confusion when his ship cleared jump and found a group of ships in the star system. And so many! For the first few hours, he thought they were from one of the pirate enclaves. Their passage didn't make sense though; if they wanted to move goods or ships, they usually went a shorter route. Canterbury was in the area by chance; he hadn't wanted to take some of the longer jumps to Virgin Holes after stalking the southeastern reaches of the sector.

  He had to admit, he had come up dry in ship captures. There was a reason for that; his ship was slow and old. Also lightly armed, she just had a pair of point defense turrets. If he could get one decent score, he could change that. One big one and maybe he could trade up for a proper warship.

  But if this convoy was going through the area, it meant they were sucking everything and everyone dry. He sighed heavily. “Might as well hail them,” he grumbled.

  <()>^<()>

  “You mean to tell me that a pirate ship is coming up our wake and they have no clue what we are?” Commodore Richards demanded, clearly amused by the outlandish concept.

  “Aye, ma'am. Word hasn't gotten around yet apparently,” Captain Rogers replied with a grin of anticipation. “I was all set to turn her into target practice. She's a privateer. We've run the updated pirate war book we got from the last messenger buoy. She's the Canterbury.”

  “Okay …?” Melbourne's A.I. fed her an image of the pirate ship. It was an outlandish thing, something she wasn't used to seeing. Her personal A.I., Lieutenant Florence, enhanced the image a little and did an overlay. A window appeared showing a flashing series of ships that the A.I. were apparently using to try to figure out more on the ship. They finally found it and blinked a ship class.

  Canterbury was an asymmetrical hulled warship of a Drua class, an old class of naval multirole transport. The class was named for an ancient Terran Polynesian double-hulled ship that looked like a canoe on steroids. Most ships favored symmetry for simplicity and ease of use. Apparently, someone had experimented back in the past.

  “Ma'am, if we can take her …,” Captain Rogers said, looking at the ship's specs.

  “Eh?”

  “I'm going over her specs. She's lightly armed. But the main thing is she's a multirole ship. Originally, she was designed to move military personnel or rescue personnel to hot zones in a hurry, like disaster relief. She has a couple of big boat bays and a small sickbay among other things.”

  “Ah,” the commodore nodded thoughtfully as her A.I. brought up the specs on the ship for her. “And you think we can use this?”

  “Yes. I mean, we'd need to take her intact of course. But the sickbay alone would give us another platform for you to use.”

  “True. And I like how we would be taking a pirate ship away from them to clean up their mess. So, how do you propose we get her?”

  “Well, we can run her down. Boarding is an issue. I've got Marines.”

  “Well, we've also got commandos on board, let's use them,” the commodore stated.

  “Aye aye, ma’am. Who though? The SEALs? Delta?” the captain asked, cocking his head.

  The commodore thought about it but then shrugged. “All of them. It's a big ship. They can coordinate.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am.”

  “A problem, Captain?”

  He hesitated and then took the plunge. “I'm concerned about sending such assets to a ship that could potentially suicide, ma'am.”

  She nodded once. “Ah. Well, there are risks of course. We'll have to watch things closely.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am.”

  <()>^<()>

  The commando teams in the convoy were used to working with each other. They'd trained together on Agnosta and had trained on the trip out. In fact, it seemed like the only thing they'd done was train.

  But now was the real thing. An actual boarding and the commodore was letting everyone in on it, not just the SEALS and Marines.

  “All right, people!” the chief said, surveying the group. “Listen up. We're all playing nice. We are doing a hostile boarding. Marines will secure the gangways and companionways. Team Alpha has the bridge. Baker has engineering. Charlie is going after their armory and act as a mobile reserve. Don't screw this up.”

  “That means play nice,” the sergeant in charge of the Delta team stated. His team was team Charlie and would work with the Marines in powered armor.

  “Unfortunately, we don't have the schematics of the ship. She's that old. Anyone who can interface with the ship to get a download of the blueprints and squirt it to command and control. Anyone gets hurt and I'll kick their ass.”

  “What about the pirates?”

  “They are pirates, I could care less if they get hurt or not.” There was a chuckle from the group. “But I don't want any in-discriminate fire if we don't need to do so! Remember, they may have hostages and slaves on board. Bending a noncombatant is a no no.”

  There was a soft grim nod from the group.

  “All right, seal up and final prep. We go in ten mikes.”

  <()>^<()>

  Captain Darimore was pissed at the news that the ships were claiming to be Feds. He'd argued about it, but they just ignored him. A single firing pass by a fighter that had come out of nowhere had turned his weapons to rubbish.

  That act had gotten his attention. He'd tried to run, but they'd blocked his path with the cruisers.

  When they'd informed him they were sending over the Marines, his panic had been nearly total. He and his crew armed for a last desperate defense.

  If it really was the Feds, their lives were on the line. “Remember, boys, they shot first! And if they board, no quarter! Not for them and certainly not for the likes of us! So give ‘em hell!” the captain growled over the PA as he watched the first shuttle dock.

  “Docking port Delta! I say again Delta!” he snarled over the PA. He had one slim advantage; he controlled the ship and security systems. His people immediately began to clear a path for defenders to rush to the port side of the ship while closing off hatches that would slow the enemy's advance.

  But then he saw a second and third shuttle coming in from the other flank. He groaned.

  <()>^<()>

  PO Jackson primed and then tossed a grenade with a practiced flick. He didn't even have to break cover to do it; the stick flicked around the corner and down the corridor with a clatter. “Fire in the hole!” he snarled.

  They were using stick grenades as well as flashbangs to clear the way forward rather than get into a protracted fire fight. The grenades were used to clear a compartment with people who refused to surrender. The good thing about the stick grenade was that it had minimum fragmentation. The long cylindrical design allowed the user to use it as a lever when throwing. That allowed the throw to be further and more accurate. It also occasionally served as a club.

  When it went off, he grinned. He tossed a sensor ball around the corner after a moment and then rushed in behind it when it gave him the all clear.

  The concussive force of the blast was the primary killing agent, not fragmentation. The thin walls of the grenade generally were vaporized or turned to dust. If the enemy knew it was coming, they usually ducked and covered.

  It was a very good CQC weapon in places like bases and ships where you didn't want to do too much damage to the structure and equipment.

  Smart grenades were also in use. The smart grenades could shape their charges and blast away from friendly IFF. They could even code it to shap
e it away from civilians or around a corner or obstacle. Both grenades had a ten-meter kill range, which meant it only took one to clear a compartment.

  Weapons fire came at him, but it was blind. The muzzle flash told him where it was, and he shot center mass. His thermals confirmed the body was hit. He went over and kicked the weapon away and then checked the rest of his team. The compartment was clear.

  “Engineering clear. We've got six tangos down, two look like they might survive.”

  “Roger that.”

  <()>^<()>

  Captain Darimore's bottom lip quivered. He'd watched the Feds blow through his people like buckshot through tissue paper. The hatches just slowed them down. By the time he realized they weren't going to win the fight, the chance to scuttle the ship had ended.

  And now this. The enemy was outside his door and coming in. He saw a grenade fly into the room. It bounced off the bulkhead down behind his improvised position. Men and women scrambled to get clear of the thing. He tried to throw himself out from behind the station but the grenade went off, liquefying his internal organs and slamming what was left to the deck.

  <()>^<()>

  Once the ship was declared secure, the medics started to make the rounds. One of the shuttles kicked off to allow a shuttle with a prize crew and backup force to arrive.

  Jackson looked down at one of the prisoners. The kid was young, human and holding on just barely. He took a knee next to the wounded prisoner and did a quick assessment. The damage was bad, but if they put pressure on the wound, the kid might not bleed out.

  “Put pressure on the wound,” he ordered. “Here,” he said, moving the prisoner's free hand to the wound.

  “Frack,” the guy said, sucking in a shuddering breath as he tried to block out the pain.

  “Tighter,” the SEAL ordered.

  “Yeah, sucks to be you,” the corpsman stated mildly as he arrived and pulled his bag open.

  “Yeah,” the prisoner said with a shake of his head.

  “This is what we call a teachable moment,” the corpsman stated as the PO stood and turned away.

  “Come again?”

  “You. You're at a crossroads. A tipping point. You go in one direction and end of the line,” he said as he lifted the hand and slipped a pad in. The pad was laced with a coagulant that would stop surface bleeding.

  “Or?”

  “Or, you can do the right thing.”

  The prisoner eyed him and then sighed, laying his head back. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Right,” the medic said as he checked for an exit wound. There was one on the back. Based on his scans, the patient had been lucky. None of the major internal organs had been punctured. The blood vessel was only nicked.

  “If I help you, they will kill my family.”

  “Not if we kill them first,” the medic said conversationally as he leaned the patient forward and scanned the exit wound then applied a clamp to lockdown the bleeder. A spray of biofoam sealed the wound. “Or catch them.” He eased the patient back.

  “They are everywhere. You aren't.”

  “No, not yet,” the medic said.

  The prisoner eyed him. “Tell me this, are you really a SEAL?”

  “Me? No.”

  “I knew it!”

  “I'm a navy corpsman. They are SEALs,” the medic stated, pointing to the shooters in the compartment. “And yeah, they are the real deal—as real as it gets these days.”

  “Oh. No wonder we lost.”

  “You didn't have a chance in hell.”

  “Yeah, I kinda noticed that.”

  <()>^<()>

  Captain Rogers grinned at the report. The ship was secure. And casualties to his force were minor to nonexistent. Better still, they had racked up some actual combat time. They'd have big heads for a while, but he could put up with that.

  The prize crew was already sending over information. He looked at the camera feed to Melbourne and was surprised to see it go live.

  “Reading my mind, ma'am?”

  “Eh?”

  “I was about to call you and let you know the ship has been taken,” he said, looking up and glowering at the communications rating. The rating blinked and then pointed to the ship's A.I. avatar.

  The captain looked at the A.I. and then down to the commodore. He'd deal with them later.

  “Any idea on how long it will take to fix the ship up?”

  “I'm still getting reports on that, ma'am. The hot wash is they took the ship intact. Any minor damage our engineers can easily patch up.”

  “Ah,” the commodore stated. “Well, the pirates didn't infect this system so we're not sticking around long.”

  “We'll have her ready to move out as soon as we jump, ma'am,” he replied with a nod. “And she can follow at her best speed like Félicité',” he reminded her.

  “Ah. Yes, well, there is that. Good work, Captain.”

  “The operators did most of the work, ma'am. But I'll let them know you appreciate their hard work.”

  “Well, they finally got a chance to put all that training to work. Good for them. Okay, get me that information. If the ship does have a sickbay like you said I'd like to see if we can outfit her as another hospital ship.”

  “Sounds like a plan, ma'am,” the captain replied with a dutiful nod.

  “Keep me posted,” Commodore Richards said as she cut the channel.

  Act II

  Chapter 19

  Tau-1252

  Governor Adrienne was amused by the naming contest. It had started in the crèche's and schools but had grown from there as the kids brought the debate home. It was now all over the media thanks to the Knox News coverage.

  Everyone seemed interested in renaming their star system. They were tired of the 1252 alpha numeric or the capital label that had started to creep into the boards and conversations.

  She was fully aware that many were leaning towards Capital. Some had pitched the idea to name the new capital after the old, though some critics were trying to shoot down the suggestion.

  Polls didn't have a clear winner. But, it was time she got behind it and got them organized.

  <()>^<()>

  The launch of the second sublight destroyer coincided with the arrival of Commander Bentley and the formal paperwork renaming the naval base and yard Newport X. It was a mark of how far they'd come that the arrival of a warship at the Tortuga jump point didn't cause panic in the civilian population.

  Shelby was reading about the initial hot wash of the first day for Smaland's builders trials when she got the flash priority from the picket at the Tortuga jump point. She frowned thoughtfully. From the sound of the report, the issues with the first ship Edson had been corrected in the yard and things were going smoother.

  Which was the way things are supposed to go. Better every time.

  “Boni, what is this about?” she asked.

  “Ma'am, Commander Bentley has reported the enemy has mostly abandoned Tortuga,” Boni reported as she scanned the incoming transmission. “Three cruisers were left as a picket, but Black Death and every other enemy combatant and noncombatant have left.”

  “Interesting,” Shelby murmured thoughtfully.

  <()>^<()>

  Once they had the initial download, Shelby called a meeting with her command team about the news and its strategic implications.

  “Clearly Admiral Ishmael doesn't think he can defend Tortuga. And he wants some strategic depth between us. That's the only reason I can see why he fell back and abandoned his main base without a fight,” she stated. She was still kicking herself for not going after the convoys.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Lieutenant Slaterly stated.

  “So, we just move in?” Captain Otto Corbin asked dubiously.

  “Hey, if they don't want to fight and just want to hand it to us, feel free,” Lieutenant Black stated with a grin. “We'd clean their clocks.”

  “I don't know,” Shelby said, toying with her lip. “I don't think it is
a trap. But I'm still proceeding cautiously.”

  “Can we send a cruiser in to at least take the pickets out, ma'am?” Lieutenant Slatterly suggested. She immediately looked at the Neochimp captain.

  Shelby frowned but then nodded. “I think we can arrange that.” She didn't sound too happy though.

  “I wish we had the time to send a couple ships around to ambush those convoys. We can outrun them. Is that even still possible?” Captain Corbin asked.

  “I've run the numbers. It would be very tight. And the interval between the last two convoys has me wondering about it. I'm not sure the risks outweigh the rewards,” Lieutenant Black stated.

  “We could do it,” the captain stated.

  “It's not that. It's getting the ships out again,” Lieutenant Black stated. “We'd be boarding the ships and trying to handle them.

  “And doing so would put our people at risk. We would have had a tight margin between the second convoy and the last,” Shelby stated. She privately wondered if Ishmael would use his own people as bait. After a moment she snorted mentally. After seeing him kill his own people right in front of her? Damn straight he'd do it.

  “True, ma'am,” Lieutenant Black reluctantly agreed. She flicked her ears, “If we'd pounced on them, we'd be cleaning up the mess when the warships arrived.”

  “I thought of that too. And two cruisers wouldn't have been able to get them all. They could scatter. What we did catch we'd have to board. Unless we shot them out of hand.”

  “And the navy doesn't blow up unarmed ships filled with women and kids if it can avoid it,” Lieutenant Slatterly stated firmly.

  “No, they don't,” Shelby agreed. “Even enemy noncombatants,” she stated, surveying the table.

  “No, ma'am. And we know what they do to anyone they think will fall in our hands,” Lieutenant Slatterly stated. “So, they might do the work for us. Or our people would be stuck in the middle.”

  “Agreed. I think it’s all water under the damn anyway. The real prize right now is Tortuga,” Shelby stated. She had to leave open the possibility that Ishmael would take his forces in the reverse direction, jumping through her potential ambush point and then doubling back to hit the capital from an unexpected direction.