Corsair Menace (Privateer Tales Book 12) Page 7

  "Sendrei, are you up for another trip today?" I asked.

  "I promised Flaer I would share midday meal with her."

  "We're going to Azima, right?" Tabby said. "We should take them to Koosha's. Ada wanted to go to the bazaar to find fabric for a bed cover she has in mind."

  "We’re dropping off Fleet Afoot, but that shouldn’t take long," I said. "You want to go, Mom?"

  "Not today," she said. "I have lessons with the kids this afternoon and Patty roped me in to visiting York's school tomorrow. I'd like to do a little prep work."

  "Where are you staying?"

  She flicked an address to me. "I should have told you. Hog offered me and the kids a home on Fanta Blossom Street."

  "Well, bilge water. He put us on the other side of Quail Hill, but he gives you a house?" I said.

  "Patty thinks Hog’s overprotective because of the children. They've had a few taken by Kroerak spawn over the years. If it makes you feel any better, he offered Merrie and Amon and Sendrei and Flaer homes even further out than yours. But when I told him we'd soon be in orbit, he said he could find in-town accommodations until then."

  One thing about sailing in the Tuuq was that every change made by the pilot was obvious to everyone on board, and landing was no different. We all jostled to the side as the ship’s antiquated gravity system released and Zuri’s natural gravity took over.

  "I'll run Silver and Sendrei into town and if Flaer wants to go to Azima I'll bring 'em back," Tabby said, pushing off my lap. "You get Fleet Afoot ready to sail. Make sure you unload the extra fuel and O2."

  "Nick already removed all but one turret," I said.

  "That's my boy."

  The sound of whirring activators alerted me to the presence of Popeyes as I stepped through the starboard pressure barrier and slid down the ladder’s rails to the grassy meadow.

  "Any issues, Cap?" Marny asked, opening the armor glass faceplate of her mechanized suit.

  "She’s sloppy," I said. "Not complaining; just takes a little focus to accept the slow system responses. It’s kind of fun after you get used to it, though."

  "Tabby sent me Sendrei's weapon performance report," Marny said.

  The conversation felt awkward, given Sendrei was climbing out of the ship just as she said it.

  "What's your read on my skill, Sergeant Bertrand?" Sendrei asked, looking sincerely to Marny. With her mechanized suit on, Marny stood a meter taller than both of us.

  "I saw better from you when we sailed Intrepid," she said. "It looks like you're more comfortable with the capabilities of larger ships."

  "That's my assessment as well, although I'm not partial to excuses," he said.

  "You'd be hard pressed to find another pilot who sails like our Cap," Marny said. "Don't beat yourself up. Truth is, I don't think I could score seventies consistently under combat conditions."

  "This mean you're signing off on Sendrei in a gunner's seat?" I asked.

  "Oh, Jupiter’s moons, yes," Marny chortled. “Maybe I’ll even get a break once in a while.”

  "You get the irony, right Marny?" I asked.

  "I do not, Cap."

  "You're talking about taking a break while sitting in a Popeye that I know for a fact was two clicks away not more than a few minutes ago. What kind of break is that?" I asked.

  "The kind that doesn't have me floating in space, thinking my best answer is to board a hostile ship."

  Tabby pulled up in a carriage she'd fetched from Nick's shop. "Hop in, guys," she said. "Back in about an hour, Love."

  "Where's Nick?" I asked as Tabby pulled away and I started toward Fleet Afoot. As much as I appreciated the quick little ship, she gave up too much armor and teeth for my liking. I wasn't thrilled about letting her go, but Goboble's claim on our lost bond was legitimate and I looked forward to retrieving our grav-suits.

  "York. He's talking with Mez Rigdon," Marny responded.

  "Mez? Sounds familiar, who's that?"

  "You've seen her. Younger gal. She's always on the wall when we're coming and going. Turns out she's the sheriff," Marny said.

  "Dark hair, big smile?" I asked.

  "That's her."

  "What's going on?"

  "Nick is negotiating a patrol schedule with her," Marny said.

  "She up for that?"

  "Not until Nick offered training and the use of one of the Popeyes."

  "That's a lot of firepower."

  "She's the one who raised the alarm when Goboble came after us," Marny said. "And the Popeyes sure didn't do us any good sitting in Fleet Afoot's hold."

  We'd arrived at the little ship and I lowered the cargo elevator. "That's true. It would have been a different conversation if Rigdon had arrived in a Popeye instead of with a bunch of farmers holding pea shooters. As for our trip to Azima today, I think Sendrei and Flaer are thinking of coming along.”

  "I’ll put Flaer in Tuuq with Ada and Nick,” Marny said.

  “What about you and Tabby? I’m not really expecting trouble” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I was about to be chastised.

  “It’s not what we expect, Cap,” Marny said. “We plan for worse case and are pleased when it doesn’t go that way. I want Ada at Tuuq’s helm with Nick on the turret.”

  “Are you sitting this one out?” I asked.

  “Not hardly. I’ll put Sendrei on the ground with you. Tabby and I will be on standby in Tuuq’s cargo bay just in case Goboble tries something. Otherwise, I’d prefer we avoid an escalation.”

  “Let me guess. You and Tabby will be in Popeyes?”

  Marny grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We should get to work — only have an hour before we depart. What’s first?”

  "I want to get the kitchen equipment and suit cleaners removed," I said. "If we have time, we’ll take linens and any spare supplies." As I spoke, my AI projected a work list onto my HUD. I swiped at the virtual display, splitting the tasks between Marny and myself.

  For the next forty-five minutes, we worked in relative quiet as we removed items from Fleet Afoot in descending order of ease of removal and value.

  "Knock, knock," Ada said. I was lying on my back in the tween deck working on a fitting. "Are you doing what I think you're doing, Liam?"

  "I'm not giving that granite-faced turd my septic bugs," I said.

  "Get out of there," she reprimanded. "You're better than that."

  I closed my toolbox and slid out. "Okay, okay," I conceded.

  "How do you want to do this?" she asked, handing me a rag.

  As usual, I hadn't escaped from the tween deck unscathed.

  "Did Sendrei clear things with Flaer?" I asked.

  "Flaer’s so cute. Did you know she’s never been to a city other than Yishuv?" she said, referring to another failed Belirand mission on the planet Ophir.

  “The Yishuv settlement is hardly a city, any more than York is,” I said. “I wonder what she’d think of Puskar Stellar?”

  “Probably best to break her in slowly. I told her to prepare for hard-core shopping today,” Ada said.

  I chuckled. I had no doubt of that.

  "You’re flying Tuuq. Just follow Fleet Afoot over," I said. "Sendrei and I will handle the exchange and if all goes well, we can get changed and head into town. If things go less than well, Tabby and Marny will be in your hold, hanging out in Popeyes."

  "Do you think that’s necessary?”

  “I hope not, but you know Marny.”

  “That I do. And she’s kept us alive this long so I say we keep listening to her," she said. "Give me a minute to get loaded onto Tuuq and we can get going."

  I waited for her to clear the ladder that led down to Fleet Afoot’s empty cargo hold. I climbed to the top deck where I met Tabby coming out of our old quarters.

  "What were you doing in the tween deck?" Tabby asked, stepping onto the ladder so she could transfer to Tuuq.

  I opened the toolbox and held up the septic junction I'd removed.

  "Frak, put
it away," she said, pulling her arm over her nose and scrunching her face. "You're twisted, Hoffen."

  Chapter 5

  Push Comes to Shove

  “Azima ground control, this is Liam Hoffen. We’re on approach with two craft and will be landing at 1350 in Green Zone Two,” I said. My AI would take care of the necessary translations as it conveyed my message.

  Azima, a city of twenty thousand, had been given the designation of ‘frontier’ by the Confederation of Planets, just as had York. Frontier status basically meant the city could form its own government as long as it upheld a minimum of sentient rights. While Azima had a diverse population, it had been redeveloped by Pogona after the Felio pulled out during the Kroerak invasion of Zuri.

  The vid-screen embedded into the forward bulkhead of Fleet Afoot showed a lizard-chinned controller who I recalled talking to at least once before. “Be advised, Captain Hoffen, an armed convoy currently occupies Green Zone One. We recommend redirecting to Violet.”

  The indicated violet landing zone was on the opposite side of town from the green one we were approaching.

  Azima’s landing zones had originally been built to surround the core of the town. As the population grew, building had continued in circular rings out away from the center, past the landing pads until significantly more of the population lived and worked on the outside rings. The war, however, had caused Azima’s population to implode to roughly a twentieth of its former glory. The zones were now considered the outside edge of the town again.

  “Understood, control,” I said. “I believe we’ve a meeting with said convoy.”

  “Received, Captain Hoffen.” The Pogona’s chin quivered as was common when they felt stress. “In that you’re new to the area, you should know that Azima does not interfere in private transactions. Any property destruction will result in an assessed fee to all involved parties. There will be no proper course given if hostilities extend to populated regions.”

  My AI popped up and highlighted the term ‘proper course.’ It was a legal term, defined by the Confederation of Planets, meaning due process. Ultimately, Azima ground control was telling me they’d shoot first and worry about who was to blame later if negotiations with Goboble turned violent and we endangered city residents.

  “Copy that, Azima. Hoffen out,” I said and closed the comm.

  Though Sendrei and I were alone in Fleet Afoot, the entire team was linked on a tactical channel Marny commanded.

  “Ada, we’re headed in.”

  “Sounds good, Liam,” Ada answered.

  I was going to miss Fleet Afoot. She was a sluggish flier in atmosphere, given the general state of anti-grav technology in the galaxy, but she was ridiculously fast otherwise. Not even Intrepid could catch her outside of the gravity well of a planet.

  Tipping the stick over, I dropped to a hundred meters as we approached. Flying at twenty meters per second, Fleet Afoot shuddered, struggling to remain aloft as I inspected Goboble’s small army.

  “Your adversary has added to his forces,” Sendrei said. “These are not the actions of one who seeks peace.”

  Instead of three armed vehicles, Goboble had a total of five — one of which was closer to a tank. If my sensors were right, Tuuq’s blasters would have difficulty disabling the heavy vehicle if it came to that. A cocky Pogona sat in the open armored hatch and lifted his hand, making a crude gesture. Additionally, twenty heavily armed, uniformed Pogona and Felio stood next to the Stryker that still bore the scars of our last encounter.

  “Why does it always come to this?” I muttered and arced Fleet Afoot — as gently as she’d allow — over to a cement pad that was separated from Goboble’s army by a shallow ravine. If push came to shove, the gap would slow the fighters by a few seconds. It was the best I could come up with.

  “Goboble might be sabre rattling,” Sendrei said. “I do not know enough about Golenti to tell you how they posture.”

  I stood and looked around the bridge. We were losing Fleet Afoot as the result of choices I’d made — choices I believed contributed to the Kroerak’s defeat on Earth. I just wasn’t a big fan of the payment end of sacrifice. That was just how it worked, as my late dad, Big Pete, often pointed out.

  After climbing down the ladder into the cargo hold, I palmed my way through the airlock with Sendrei close behind. We’d worn our Mars Protectorate, Marine-issued armored vac-suits which provided additional armor, not to mention bulked up our profiles. Sendrei, who was at least ten percent larger than Marny, looked unbelievably intimidating. He handed me my favorite heavy blaster pistol and we exited the ship, I imagined for the last time.

  “No rifle?” I asked, noticing that Sendrei had also strapped a single heavy blaster pistol to his chest. He had chosen to use my favorite combat holster position which allowed us to simply lift a hand to our chests to free the weapon.

  “We will initially negotiate in close quarters,” Sendrei said. “A rifle is a strong deterrent in a protracted fight but would be a liability close-in.”

  “Copy that.”

  We approached Goboble, next to whom stood his two Felio guards, Hakenti and Charena, and a lanky Pogona.

  “This might be trouble,” I said.

  “What’s up, Liam?” Tabby asked over our tactical comm.

  “That Pogona next to Goboble is Ferin.” Ferin was the Pogona smuggler we’d turned over to the Abasi. I was shocked to see he’d been released.

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “Look through Liam’s suit feed,” Nick said.

  “Oh, frak,” she responded.

  “Surprised to see you here, Ferin,” I said. He wore pistols loosely holstered on each hip. “Are we going to have a problem?”

  “Our trouble is for another day,” Ferin replied.

  "Captain Hoffen!" Chills ran down my spine as I recognized the woman's voice. I turned just in time to see the pirate, Belvakuski, step from the back of the Stryker vehicle.

  One of the problems with a holo projector image is that it can't communicate the size of a person. I knew Belvakuski by her reputation as a criminal and a pirate, by her severe face and lizard jowls, and by her deep alto voice. I'd made the mistake of creating a mental image of a large, imposing and powerful female Pogona. Belvakuski, in the flesh, couldn't have been any further from that image and only came up to about chest height.

  “What’s going on, Goboble?” I said. “This wasn’t part of the bargain. You brought an army and now her?”

  “Even I have a boss and when last we were together, a human ship fired its weapons and substantially damaged my property,” Goboble said. “I will not allow the same today.”

  “Your memory is short, Goboble,” I said. “You were attempting to coerce me into an unfavorable deal when your henchmen opened fire.”

  “I do not deny your assessment. I will not be disadvantaged this day.”

  “Negotiation is done. This is just a drop-off,” I said. “Bring out our suits so I can inspect them, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “You made no provision for inspection,” he said.

  “Even in the Dwingeloo galaxy, inspection of goods before delivery is implied, unless you’d like us to drop a few blaster rounds through Fleet Afoot, pre-delivery.”

  Belvakuski laughed aloud and stepped around the guard. “Plenty of vigor in this one. Finish the deal, Goboble.”

  Goboble was hard to read as his face rarely changed affect. I’d learned to look for other tells such as finger twitches, foot shuffling, and nervous coughing. As far as I could tell, Goboble had no discernable signs of nervousness or deceit.

  “Bring the suits,” he demanded, without turning.

  Two Felio in loose armored suits broke from the group that stood watching us uneasily. When the two returned, they carried a crate between them that contained what looked like our grav-suits. A pungent smell struck me as the crate was set down between Goboble and Ferin.

  “Now you will transfer control of the ship,” Ferin said
.

  “What have you done to our suits?” I asked.

  “They are in perfect working order,” he said.

  “I’ll inspect them.”

  He gestured to the crate.

  I reached for the first suit and my gloved hand met a charged field, which my suit easily grounded. My AI displayed a reading of one hundred thousand volts at a moderate amperage. If I’d touched the field with bare hands, it might have killed me.

  It occurred to me that Goboble might be trying to test our technology. The armor worn by his thugs was nothing like the high-tech vac-suits Sendrei and I wore, but rather armor pieces laid over ordinary clothing.

  I could just pick up on the sound of a recharging capacitor.

  “Liam?” Sendrei asked, placing his hand on the butt of his pistol.

  “We’re fine, Sendrei,” I said. “Must have been a small static buildup.”

  Tabby harrumphed through tactical comm. “Didn’t look so small to me.”

  I pulled the first suit from the pile. It was covered with a smelly liquid that rolled off onto the suit beneath. The material was heavier that it should have been and I realized the suit was holding fluid, so I turned it upside down and drained it. I choked back a gag as I realized the liquid was waste from the Pogona or Felio.

  “Run diagnostic.” My HUD showed the results. The suit I was holding and the others in the crate were in good working order, albeit heavily soiled.

  “A signature,” Ferin said, once again handing the thick tablet to me.

  I took the tablet and ran my contract subroutine against the provided, alien contract. It was the contract we’d originally provided him — with a few gotchas added, including not dissolving our partnership.

  “I’m disappointed, Goboble,” I said. “You originally impressed me as a professional. Maybe this crap works when you’re doing business with others, but not me. This is not the contract we agreed on.” I pulled a pad from a thigh pocket.

  I caught a momentary flicker in his eye as I handed across the pad. My AI picked up on my scrutiny and slowly replayed a slight contraction in what amounted to the pupil of his eye. I’d found his tell. I wasn’t sure what it indicated, but I’d definitely seen it.