***
She put both hands to the small of her back, groaning as she forced herself upright from the punishing stoop. Gods, she was sore—she’d never have guessed she even had so many nerve endings. Vedara glanced to where Moraine labored just feet away, scraping and scrubbing at yet another selection from the bulky pile of crusty items that were too large to go through the particle cleanser and had thus simply continued to cumulate—by all appearances in anticipation of the arrival of a shanghaied pair such as herself and Moraine.
When she’d regained consciousness a couple days prior she’d been laid out in the brig, aboard the pirate star cruiser, with Moraine cooing overtop. They’d then been brought before the Captain, one Develroy Bansternob, and his full crew of misfits—men and women both. It was a very small crew for a star cruiser, less than a dozen, which told Vedara that the majority of the ship was running under the control of artificial intelligence.
To her immense relief the Captain turned out to be not nearly so barbaric or cruel as she might have feared. He certainly didn’t look the stereotypical pirate; no eye-batch or tangled beard or baggy bloomers and silks. To hear the Captain tell it, once upon a time his crew had all been more or less upstanding members of the Galactic Confederation, but each had suffered their own series of mishaps that resulted in the stripping of their privileges of citizenry, and they were thus presented with the choice of prosperous piracy or shunned destitution. The Captain fervently believed that it was ‘the system’ that was flawed, not him, and he in fact seemed intent upon eventually absorbing both Vedara and Moraine into his little band of brigands. But only after they had properly paid their dues, it seemed.
Vedara pressed her lips into a thin hard line—Bansternob might not be the worst she’d encountered, but his plans most certainly did not suit her purpose. And so she would retake her ship, along with her vengeance and a pirate’s bounty.
Moraine eased in close and whispered. “Vedara—this plan is just too risky. We’ll never pull it off, and failure will make for very unpleasant consequences.”
Vedara scowled. “So you would prefer to remain here, Moraine, as a pirate? You might fare better as a wench, serving from the galley and seeing to the personal needs of the men.”
“Please, Vedara, rethink this. So many dice; and they all have to roll in our favor. Remember that the punishment often exceeds the crime.”
Vedara shook her head and nudged Moraine toward the hatch. ‘These are nothing but a band of inept outcasts who have taken us captive, and so any action we take against them is no crime by my reckoning. Now undo another button and tip the odds a bit more in our favor—you play your role and I’ll play mine.”
***
She peered around a corner as Moraine advanced upon the cook, flouncing in a manner wanton even by her standards, those being what they were. In spite of their dire circumstances Vedara had to smile—Moraine had a rare talent, and well practiced at that. The way the cook’s gaze was fixated upon Moraine, somewhere between her hips and her neck, Vedara suspected that she could step out and wave a flag and still go unnoticed.
“Uh… wh…. what are you, uh, d.. doin’ here?” stammered the cook, a pudgy young man scarcely past his teens, judging from his pimply face. Good—such a neophyte should make an easy mark. Moraine strutted past so that his riveted gaze rotated away from where Vedara crouched in hiding.
“So… what’s for dinner, big boy?” breathed Moraine.
Vedara cringed at the hopeless cliché, but Moraine had unfastened several buttons of her blouse and when she leaned forward she displayed cleavage that left so little to the imagination that Vedara suspected her friend could begin reciting the dry Articles of the Confederation and still command the cook’s rapt attention.
Vedara slipped through the doorway and crept over to the storage cabinets, opening the door stenciled with a blocky red cross. She fumbled through the various medicinal supplies until she found a large bottle labeled ‘Resticol’.
Resticol, resticol—she searched her memory for the name. Yes! That would do it; a tranquilizer of sorts, used to calm nerves or sometimes aid sleeplessness. She resumed creeping along below the countertop, headed for the spot where the cook had been manning a large mixer, preparing the porridge or whatever it is they called the gruel that would be served come mealtime. She stealthily rose on the other side of the counter where the cook stood with his back turned, gabbing awkwardly at Moraine, and she dumped half the powdery contents into the large bowl. Then she shrugged and tipped in the rest. Gripping the large wooden spoon she stirred it in a bit, so as to make it not so obvious, but when she released it the spoon tipped in to clatter against the metal beaters. Her gaze darted up to see the cook’s head starting to turn her way.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Moraine. She bent low and then straightened; fumbling with a bit of jewelry pinned to her blouse, and smiled embarrassedly at the cook. “My brooch has come loose.” She fiddled with it and managed to get it unfastened without appearing to do so, and she stepped closer and thrust herself toward the cook, who seemed to have forgotten entirely about any unexpected noise from behind. “Would you pin it back for me?” she asked in her most syrupy voice. Vedara stifled a snort and bent to creep back to the door.
***
“Did you really have to whack those two over the head like that?” complained Moraine in an increasingly whiny voice. “They never treated us so badly.”
“Not badly—other than blasting the StarGazer with a phase cannon and taking us captive, you mean? Those two didn’t eat the frakking gruel, Moraine, what was I supposed to do? Wait for them to see their cohorts start falling over, and come to figure out what was going on?”
They stepped past the snoring guard at the entrance to the hangar and moved cautiously to where the StarGazer sat tethered down within. Vedara cursed softly.
“Bloody Mothers!”
The pirates had apparently decided to refit the StarGazer as one of their own, but in the process had discovered the SpaceCloak, and the vessel now sat partially disassembled.
“They were going to try to refit the cloak to their cruiser!” growled Vedara. “Damned fools—it was scaled for my ship, not so large a vessel as this!”
Moraine began to whimper. “I told you so! I told you, Vedara! Now what will we do? What can we do? We’re stuck in the lion’s den, just waiting for him to awaken!”
“Snap out of it,” growled Vedara. ‘It’s just a change of plans, that’s all.” She gripped Moraine and shook her lightly. “Don’t fall apart on me now. Look—there’s another option I had already considered, and which may actually be the better choice. I decided on slipping away in the StarGazer, because it would be easier and because I know the ship so well.” And because it had a SpaceCloak, she added to herself. “But there’s no time to restore the StarGazer, and so here’s what we’ll do.” Moraine looked at her through tormented, hopeful eyes. “We’ll commandeer the bloody star cruiser! This ship! I can pilot this thing!”
Noooooooo, wailed Moraine, and Vedara slapped her, hard. “Shut up, Moraine, and pay attention. First let’s drag the crew members into a non-critical compartment where I can contain them, and then I want to take a closer look at the cargo we carried aboard my ship. I can’t imagine any recreational drug valuable enough to get the undivided attention of three mil-spec star cruisers, especially since they could likely pillage that and more from any wandering mega-tourist boat.”
With the crew still zonked out and now confined, the women disconnected the cargo container and used a pallet truck to extricate it from the confined space of the StarGazer’s transport hold. Out under the bright lights of the hangar Vedara scrutinized the shiny stainless cabinet, and she waved a data printout at Moraine. “This log makes no sense. Valtar insisted that the cargo required precisely controlled temperature, humidity, and so on; all monitored by the systems on-board the container. But look,” she pointed a finger at the printout, “our e-control system reports the onl
y request made of it by the pallet was a constant vacuum! A vacuum does not require external support; a passive container could provide that easily enough. And so why the elaborate fabrication, and why the extra expense to support the lie?”
“A… diversion?” ventured Moraine.
“Exactly! The Seleneen have gone to great expense and trouble to promote the appearance that this shipment is a serious recreational drug. Why might they suggest that the cargo is illegal? To lend the aura of danger and hush-hush, to make the cargo’s purveyors think they are already playing close to the edge, and thus quell any speculation about the true content before it ever got started!”
“What… what do you think it really is, then?” asked Moraine timorously.
Vedara grinned her grin. “There’s one way to find out…”
***
The loud and incessant banging upon the wall was becoming very irritating. Vedara keyed the microphone for the onboard intercom channel. “Captain,” she spoke reasonably, “have your crew keep the noise down, would you please? I’ll not be releasing you anytime soon, and I’m confident that I could figure out how to cut off life support to your compartment, were you to force my hand.” She flinched and held the handset away from her ear while the Captain vented his anger in what, she had to admit, was an impressively pirate-like spiel of profane invective.
“Captain,” she resumed, after he’d run out of breath and curses, “have you finished?”
“Hell NO, I’m not finished!” he stormed. “You’ll pay dearly for this, woman, and the longer you play this foolish game, the more severe the toll!!!”
“Captain, dear Captain,” mused Vedara. “You are in lock-down, and I control a star cruiser. Tell me again—how exactly do you expect to exact your penance?”
“ARR! You— you frakkin’… ARR!!! Have you forgotten that you are in the company of TWO other star cruisers, and that neither will take kindly to your actions?!!!”
Vedara glanced to her bank of monitors, where the other two cruisers rode alongside silently oblivious. “Well, I suppose the time will come when I’ll have to tell them. For now, though, the course that they’ve set suits my purpose. I’m sure that their intended ultimate destination is not the same as ours, but that will change.”
Bansternob resumed his tirade, and Vedara switched off the intercom link. She looked to where Moraine sat and they grinned at each other.
***
The Intership Comm link crackled to life. “Prime cruiser SC1, we were instructed to take direction from you when we transitioned from open to planetary space, near our destination. Is there a reason that you maintain radio silence beyond that zone?”
Vedara looked to Moraine, who had coiled up into a tense little ball. Vedara reached over to pat her arm. “It’s game time.” Moraine nodded, just once.
After a few moments of silence the voice came back, more cautious. “SC1, please provide the code-phrase intended to validate command identity.”
“Hmmmm.” mused Vadara into her handset. “Well, let’s see. How about PeglegPete? Or PollyWanna? Or just plain old ARRR?” There was a pained silence, and Vedara could almost hear the wheels turning across open space. She keyed the microphone again. “Star cruisers, ummm… SC2 and SC3, I presume? This is Captain Vedara Lightstar—pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“V— Lightstar? What foolishness is this?! You must summon Captain Bansternob to this channel at once!”
“Well, I could do that,” said Vedara, “but he might be sleeping and I’d hate to wake him. He’ll soon be facing more than trouble enough, and so he may as well be rested up for it.”
A number of warning lights began to flash on the sensor panels, and on the bank of monitors she watched the two star cruisers separate to either side of SC1. There was all manner of mechanical activity across the hulls of both vessels as the various weapons systems came live and fixed onto target. Vedara reached over to touch Moraine where she was curled up smaller than one might imagine possible.
“Don’t worry,” she said softly, hoping she was right, “Our shields are fully active.”
“SC1,” the voice came back, this time curt and all business, “stand down all weapons systems and prepare to be boarded. Open your port docking mechanism, and be advised that any resistance will result in a forcible takeover.”
“Oh poo,” said Vedara. “That’s not very nice, now is it? I’ll tell you what—since we’ve already broken radio silence, why don’t we open a video channel so we can trade insults face to face?” She flipped the switch to send her video feed live, and the large monitor at the front of the cockpit flashed on. He was a beady little man, with a beak of a nose. His voice was smooth and mellifluous and almost warm, but his eyes were very cold.
“Vedara Lightstar. I am very curious as to how you wrangled yourself into your current position, and also quite concerned as to whatever has become of Captain Bansternob. But we can address those questions, and more, when you’ve been brought into custody aboard my ship. You are ready to be boarded, I presume?”
“I am afraid not, Captain, ummm, how about Beezer.”
A flush of red shot up from his neck as if he were being painted with a roller—the little man appeared positively shocked, and then enraged.
“You’ve got it backwards, I’m afraid,” continued Vedara. “I won’t be boarding your ship, you see, but I will be taking command of it. And of SC3 as well. We will proceed from here to a Confederation StarBase, let’s say Hevelstodd, since it’s nearest, and there you will formally surrender your star cruisers.”
The man sat working his mouth but making no sound, and Vedara smiled patiently at him. Finally he found his voice. “This is an outrage!!! If you even think of attempting to block the boarding party, the ship will be disabled, or if necessary, destroyed!”
Vedara leaned forward and spoke slowly and clearly, all the game gone from her tone. “No Captain, that is not how this will play out. Let me ask you a couple questions. Your group sent three star cruisers after my poor little transport vessel. Why exactly was that? Even if you wanted my cargo of contraband, would not one cruiser have been enough?”
The weasely little man narrowed his eyes. “Hmmph! That is no interest of yours, Lightstar. Your only concern now is an armed boarding party backed by two star cruisers!”
“I’m not yet finished with my questions, Captain. The next is this: I assume that you knew the nature of the cargo I carried?”
His eyes began to twitch. “Why… I’m told it was Seleneen Spirit—very valuable.”
“No, Captain. You knew it was no recreational drug that we carried, and that’s why your complement included three cruisers. The prize was just too valuable to risk losing, eh?”
“ENOUGH! Prepare to be boarded!”
“No. Because the cargo was, as I’m sure you know, a Class Five Engine for a Confederation-Spec Molecular Cannon. And how would I know that, you might wonder? It is because we have uncrated it. And so be advised, pretender-captain, that I will have no qualms about using against you if you do not fully accede to my demands.”
The Captain spluttered and his eyes darted side to side. “That… that is ridiculous! Even if it was what you claim, it would be just an engine. An engine cannot be used by itself! It’s nothing but a hunk of metal and electronics to you!”
“Ah, but Captain, you know that also is not entirely true, don’t you? It is true that it’s just an engine, yes, but the Confederation, in their logistical wisdom, builds such pieces in cassette form. And so when it is time to upgrade a piece of armament, it’s really just a plug and play operation. Am I not correct, Captain Beezer?”
The pirate Captain sat frozen, unable to frame a response. Vedara reached to the video joystick and panned the view to the opened armament bay, where the old phase cannon cassette lay lashed to a palette while a gleaming new engine had been inserted into the massive breach and locked down in its place.
“Even a dated phase cannon, such as what
these light cruisers carry, can be upgraded with such an engine, no? It might not be quite as precise for targeting as a newer generation. But I wonder how exact my aim needs to be, at this distance, um?”
The Captain abruptly turned and waved frantically to his side, and the lights on Vedara’s scanner began flashing all at once. Vedara toggled the cannon fully live and dialed the targeting crosshairs onto SC2, focusing on the weapons nacelle that was targeting them. Her star cruiser juddered as the first burst hit, but the shields held and Vedara pressed the firing pin once, and then once more. The first impact flashed on the shielding of SC2, illuminating it like a web of lightning spreading across the surface, and then disappeared right before the second pulse hit home. The weapons pod burst up and outward in a fiery fountain of debris, and the massive star cruiser began to spin from the impact. As the tail section came around Vedara targeted the engine compartment and fired, and another fount of molecular destruction ripped off a portion of the vessel’s tail. Vedara turned her targeting control to focus on the weapons nacelle of SC3, and spoke calmly into her comm link.
“So, SC3—is today a good day for a fight?’ All the flashing alarms on her monitor starting winking out and her visuals picked up the mechanisms extended from the hull of SC3 folding back upon themselves.
“A wise choice,” assured Vedara. “Send a team to recover any casualties on SC2, and evacuate all to your ship if necessary. You will drop all shielding and disable your open space boosters, and you will take SC2 in tow with a tractor beam. I will follow you in to StarBase on the coordinates I am about to transmit.”