My Other Car is a Spaceship Read online

  Kalen took a deep breath and opened his eyes, steeling himself. “Enough wool-gathering. This pity-party is over. I have a job to do.”

  He stood, squared his shoulders and exited the ready room, resuming his seat in the command chair. Someone had to coordinate the cleanup and rescue operations with the less senior Captains. As always, someone had to take charge.

  Right now that someone was Kalen Jeffries.

  “So how close are we, Jern?” Penrod stood in the middle of the stronghold’s command center. Around him, dozens of workers rushed here and there installing sensor consoles, viewscreens, workstations, and other furnishings and equipment.

  “Less than a week. All the major installations are done. We are down to the small stuff now. We start filling the weapons lockers tomorrow. The missile launchers and energy weapons are already in place. Those eight massive power generators are operational. You will have plenty of power for the energy weapons and the shield array. With our multilayered overlapping shields, this fortress could hold off a fleet of the best the Unity has at their disposal. Also, we have moved many of the larger nearby asteroids to provide additional shielding from external assault. Anyone wanting to attack us will have to approach from the directions we dictate. And, of course, while they are doing that, the asteroids we have equipped with missile launchers and energy projectors will be blowing them out of the sky. Whatever ships manage to survive our outer perimeter will have to deal with the dozen ships we can house in the hidden hangar bays here.”

  Penrod shook his head in amazement. “I have to admit, I gave you an aggressive deadline I didn’t think you could meet. You not only beat my deadline, you’ve exceeded my expectations for the finished result. I’m impressed. Very impressed.”

  “Thank you, Tarl. I am proud of the work we have done here.”

  “As well you should be. Nothing like this has existed before, to my knowledge.” He lowered his voice. “Even at full strength, we want the location of this base to be a secret.” He glanced at the multitude of workers milling around them. “What about all these witnesses?”

  “They will not be a problem. They were all brought here in our ships, so they do not know the location of this base. They have been here the entire time. No one has yet left.”

  “Still, they have information about the design of this base. Someone could use that information to exploit any weaknesses we might have overlooked.”

  “There are no weaknesses, I assure you.”

  “Maybe; but better safe than sorry, Jern. When this place is fully operational and you return the workers, see that there’s an unfortunate accident and they all suffer from explosive decompression. There’s an old saying on my home planet: Loose lips sink ships. And an even older one: Dead men tell no tales. Let’s not leave any loose lips around to tell tales.”

  “Yes sir,” Ishtawahl replied.

  “Good.” Penrod took another look around the impressive display of equipment in the spacious command center. “The day this fortress comes online will mark the beginning of the end of the Merchants’ Unity.”

  A slow smile of anticipation spread across his face.

  “I’ve got good news!” Kalen approached Hal in yet another nondescript bar on yet another space station, back from a briefing at the local Unity office.

  “I could use some of that,” his pilot replied between sips of beer. He signaled the waiter for a matching one for Kalen. “Pray tell. Did some full-of-himself government official in some piss-ant system deign to let us stop and refuel on the way to getting our asses kicked by another fleet of pirate ships? How kind.”

  “My, haven’t we gotten bitter in our old age.”

  Hal shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’ve about had it. We risk our lives every day for these people and they practically spit in our faces. I’m fed up with it. In fact, I think I’ve had all I can take. I’ve had enough of empty promises. I’ve had enough of losing. I’ve had enough of ungrateful people who go out of their way to make our jobs even harder. I think I’m about ready to hang up my spurs and take that well-deserved retirement you interrupted—what is it, almost three years ago?”

  Kalen nodded. “I know exactly how you feel. I’ve had similar thoughts myself lately. What if I told you that twenty-six of those long-promised ships will be coming online in the next three weeks?”

  Hal perked up at that bit of information. “What? How?”

  Kalen shrugged. “A combination of things. Just as it seemed the universe was conspiring against us, several obstacles disappeared at the same time. The factory-worker strike on Pelvore was settled, finally. Those five ships that were sitting around almost finished can be completed now. And the Unity figured out how to solve the problem of the lack of crews for the ships that have come off the production line lately. With all the defeats the past months, and all the ships destroyed and crews lost, it’s been hard to recruit people to crew new Unity ships. No big surprise there.

  “But recent advertising has really hammered home the message of the deaths the pirates have caused and the people they’ve enslaved. The ads incensed so many people that there’s been an upwelling in friends and families of victims joining up. That’s a good thing. These crews are motivated by something stronger than simply a paycheck, or even moral outrage. They’re fueled by revenge.”

  Hal nodded with a tight smile. “I certainly see the motivation in that, but it worries me that they might be a bit too bloodthirsty and not think with clear heads.”

  “Well, sure. We need crews willing to take prisoners that we can pump for information, rather than killing them to get satisfaction. But I’d rather have a passionate crew than no crew at all, or one that’s only working for a paycheck.”

  “Yeah, there’s that. So what about the rest of the ships? The strike and the crews only account for about half.”

  “Hmm? The rest? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Some of them are behind schedule. The others are on schedule. It just worked out that they’ll all be ready about the same time.”

  “That certainly is good news.” Hal smiled. “Maybe I’ll hang around a bit longer to see how it all works out.”

  “I hoped you’d say that. Cheers.”

  He held up his glass and Hal clinked his own against it. Beer sloshed over the sides of the glasses and splashed onto the table. Neither man cared. This was the first good news they’d gotten in months.

  “Begin rescue and cleanup operations,” Kalen ordered. He sucked the blood from the inside of his cheek where he’d bitten it sometime during the battle.

  This had been one of the worst yet. Seven Unity ships had found eleven pirate ships in the midst of pillaging a small colony world of the Foren. Squadron 6 had gotten the drop on the pirates, attacking before many of them were able to return to their ships.

  The eighteen ships fought in a snarl-up that made a cat’s hairball seem orderly by comparison. More than one ship was hit by friendly fire in the mess, as ships dodged a missile or energy beam only to run into one fired at another ship. When all was said and done, fifteen of the eighteen ships drifted dead or incapacitated. The lone functional pirate ship scurried off with its tail between its legs.

  Meanwhile, several dozen pirates on the planet below, no longer protected by the ships in orbit, were taken into custody by the civilian authorities. Three by three, they were lined up against a wall and shot in retribution. Although the timely intervention of the Unity squadron prevented most of the slaves from being ferried up to the pirate ships, eighty-nine Foren had boarded one of the ships at gunpoint and died when that ship exploded in the battle.

  More than four hours later, the recovery crews finished combing through all the wrecks for survivors.

  “Captain, I have the final tally,” Hal reported. “We’ve recovered forty-seven Unity personnel and sixty-two pirates. No civilians. Many are injured, and a few might not make it.”

  Kalen nodded and closed his eyes. So many dead. Nearly four hundred of us and more than that of them. We may never know exa
ctly how many. Plus the civilians. Maybe a thousand dead overall in this one minor skirmish. God only knows how many total casualties in the past few years. Such a waste.

  “When do you want to begin interrogating our share of the pirates?”

  Kalen opened his eyes. “Might as well begin as soon as the injured are patched up. I know I won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

  “Roger that. I’ll let you know as soon as the first one’s ready.”

  “Good. I’ll be in my ready room if you need me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kalen made his way to the back of the bridge. Such a waste.

  “So what is your name, scum?” Chief of Security Arouk’Brout’Voul towered over the diminutive Blensian sitting at the table across from Kalen.

  The captain held up a hand to tell Brute to back off. There was perhaps more to his animosity toward the lavender creature than the fact that she was a pirate. Just as some people are naturally drawn together, and others just as naturally grate on each other’s nerves, some species simply do not get along. Such was the case with the Chan’Yi and the Blensians. Over their long association, there had been a number of dustups over disputed territories and even a bitter war generations ago. It was fair to say that in general the Chan’Yi held no love for the Blensians.

  “Look,” Kalen began, his face close to hers, “You’re facing many years in prison for your actions today, as well as any other crimes we can link you to. You can buy yourself some leniency by cooperating. Tell us what you know about the pirate operation, planned attacks, the location of your bases, and anything else you know. That’ll go a long way toward reducing your sentence.”

  “Screw you.” The epithet sounded odd coming out of a froglike creature, but the meaning was quite plain: she wasn’t going to cooperate. Just like the eight pirates before her. Whether it was a stubborn streak, a code of silence among the pirates, or fear of reprisals from other pirates, they uniformly clammed up in the presence of a Unity official.

  “Damn it!” Kalen roared. “I’m sick and tired of you pirates thinking you own the universe and you can take whatever you want. Well no more. I’ve given up on turning the lot of you over to more ‘civilized’ systems. I’ve decided to let the Foren on the planet below have you.”

  The Blensian looked up at him in confusion.

  “Oh, haven’t you heard? The Foren are executing the pirates you left behind when your ships broke orbit to engage us. Here, let me show you the holo.”

  Kalen used his implant to bring the viewscreen on the far wall to life. It showed three pirates—one of them a Blensian—being shackled to a handrail running along a high wall. Moments later, a dozen Foren dressed in civilian clothes, not the uniform of the local constabulary, raised a collection of energy weapons and slug-throwers and opened fire. The three prisoners sagged against their shackles, riddled with holes. Some of the executioners—the ones who’d lost friends and family in the pirate attack—had fired more several times.

  The prisoner gasped in a high-pitched voice. “Trensen!” She slumped in her chair, looking even smaller than before.

  “So you knew him.”

  She performed the Blensian equivalent of a nod.

  “A good friend? A lover, perhaps?”

  She nodded again.

  “That’s too bad. We all hate to lose friends and loved ones. One of you pirates murdered my wife six years ago. It wasn’t you, but I don’t mind if you stand in for the real murderer. I’m sure you have enough blood on your hands for five pirates. I have no qualms about letting the Foren have you. No cushy jail cell on a civilized planet somewhere; just a dirt grave out by the garbage dump. Unless you tell me what I want to know, I’ll personally put you on the next shuttle down to the surface, and I’ll happily record your death for the next prisoner to watch. Last chance. Talk now or you’ll be on that shuttle in the next ten seconds.”

  “I—” Her eyes went wide and darted around the room, as if looking for escape. “I—”

  “Five seconds.”

  “I cannot—” She began trembling.

  “Two seconds.”

  “No! I—”

  “Time’s up. Brute, escort the condemned prisoner to the shuttle.”

  Brute gripped the prisoner firmly by the shoulder and pulled her from the seat.

  “No! Wait! My name is Jendel Bhornetha Crah. I will tell you what you want to know.”

  Kalen smiled.

  At last. A break.

  “A fortress?” Hal’s eyes shot wide. He sat up straight in his chair.

  “That’s what she claims.” Kalen wore a deep frown as he paced in his office. “Not just a base somewhere so they can meet up and refuel, but a major stronghold with serious defenses.”

  Hal whistled in amazement. “If true, that’s bad news.”

  “If even half of what she said is true, we’re in deep denjin dung.”

  “Is it operational yet?”

  “For several weeks, apparently.”

  “Damn.” Hal paused in thought for a moment. “So much for a lightning strike before they get it finished. What else did she tell you about it?”

  “Not a lot. She said her ship only visited once and they were very hush-hush about it. But she knows it was carved out of a huge asteroid in the Borhtar system. That makes it easier to locate. We can start with the biggest ones and work our way down. But perhaps we can get more information from the other prisoners, using what she told us as leverage.”

  “It’s worth a shot. But then what? What can we do about it?”

  “We?” Kalen shrugged. “Nothing. It’s much too big for us. Maybe HQ will have some ideas.”

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Thank you all for coming. Please be seated.” Spelvin Mynax gestured to the chairs arrayed around a large oval table in the conference room.

  Commissioner of the Fleet Boutan’Mourn’Froul was already seated at the head of the table. Mynax took his seat at the opposite end once the commodores of the eight Merchants’ Unity squadrons found theirs.

  Boutan’Mourn’Froul cleared his throat to still the murmurings around the table. “First of all, I would like to personally commend Senior Captain Jeffries for bringing this crucial information to our attention. Without his diligence, we might yet be oblivious to this most serious pirate threat.”

  The circumstances were too dire for any congratulations, but the other Captains nodded their approval.

  “The question before us,” the commissioner continued, “is what to do about it. Or, to be more precise, to determine what we can do about it. In the month since Captain Jeffries brought this information to our attention, we have endeavored to learn as much about the pirate fortress as possible. We have learned far less than I would have hoped, but what we have discovered is frightening.

  “We have sent a series of piloted craft and drones into the Borhtar system. Uniformly, they have been intercepted and destroyed before they could get close enough for a detailed inspection. However, from long-range scans we have been able to piece together the following data: First, there most definitely is something major going on in one region of the asteroid belt. Dozens of ships a day come and go. They do not appear on any registry of commercial or private ships, so we are forced to conclude that they are indeed pirate ships.

  “Second, they have moved hundreds of asteroids to form a defensive cordon—a spherical shell or shield wall around the fortress—such that it is impossible to view it directly—and more importantly, it is impossible to attack it directly without navigating what is undoubtedly a rather daunting gauntlet. And third, since the fortress became operational, pirate activity all over the sector has increased by forty percent. The activity appears to be coordinated from this new base. We must cut off the pirate threat by severing its head.”

  Senior Captain Jesthentar raised a yellow-orange tentacle. “Why not simply stake out the system—or only the asteroid belt—and intercept the pirate sh
ips as they come and go?”

  “I wish it were that simple,” Mynax responded. “Unfortunately, there are so many hyperspace vectors for entering and leaving the system—which presumably is the reason they chose this particular system—that it’s logistically impossible for us to cover them all. We might guess right occasionally, but we’d tie up too many ships in the attempt.”

  Captain Jesthentar pursed his mouth slit and nodded his understanding.

  Senior Captain Tra Mastul spoke up next. “Sir, what do we know about the fortress’s defenses?” The downy facial stripes of the Thorian clenched in a frown.

  “Not much,” the commissioner replied. “However, we have tracked massive purchases of missiles, gravity mines, and power generators recently to several agents known to do business with the pirates. It is likely that much of that has gone to the fortress, but this is merely conjecture. We know nothing for certain about its offensive and defensive capabilities.”

  “Perhaps not,” Senior Captain John Wessel responded, “However, we can make certain assumptions based on what we would do in their shoes. It seems likely they would use the shield asteroids to limit the pathways into the fortress. That way they control the directions ships would have to take to enter. And those pathways are undoubtedly lined with gee mines and weapon emplacements. At least, that’s what I would do in their place.”

  “Indeed,” the commissioner replied. “And we cannot afford to assume the pirates are less intelligent or less versed in military strategy than we are. The fact that they are using the other asteroids as shields tells us that the pirate base will not be a pushover. Similarly, the fact that they refer to their base as a fortress tells us that it will be heavily defended. They are not merely relying on obscurity for defense.”