Shipborn Read online

  A Warpmancer Short Story

  Nicholas Woode-Smith

  https://nicholaswoodesmith.com/

  Shipborn is a short story side-story set in the Warpmancer

  Universe.

  Enter the 36th century by checking out Shadow, a thrilling action

  space opera available on Amazon.

  Check it out here!

  Copyright © 2017

  Warpmancer Universe

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or

  dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a

  retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means

  electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise

  without the prior written permission of the publisher and the

  copyright owner.

  This was Erryn’s route, and she wasn’t going to give it up so

  easily.

  ‘No way I’m even inching for those skiting zots.’

  ‘Not giving you a choice, Erryn.’

  Barry Kolheim placed his hand on Erryn Kolheim’s shoulder,

  attempting to calm her. They had the same last name, yet were

  unrelated. This was not unusual among spacefarers, who oft

  received their names from their ship.

  It was obvious to outsiders that Barry and Erryn were very much

  unrelated, with Barry possessing dark chocolate skin and Erryn, a

  white that had seldom seen the sun without the forgiving protection

  of a ship windscreen. Yet, despite their physical differences, they

  were held together by more important things – a history and the

  Kolheim. The latter of which was now under attack.

  Erryn was not known for prudence when her ship or her route

  were threatened. Barry’s attempt to calm her led to her

  unconsciously easing her grip on the throttle, but only slightly. Her

  tattooed, muscled arms were still tensed, ready to pull back the lever

  and attempt to break through the Pegg blockade.

  Erryn hated Pegg. There were few pilots who did not. Even with

  other aliens, like the Squogg, the fat violent grako that they were,

  there was still room to negotiate. They knew that a dogfight was

  expensive. Lives weren’t cheap – on either side. Usually, you could

  pay off a Squogg pirate without any bloodshed. Compromise.

  Quick, painless. It was even better with Merka. The boar-men tried

  to be nasty, but one could commonly appeal to their cousins, the

  Exanoids, sense of reason. Merka pirates were not good at their

  jobs. Pegg, on the other hand, they made piracy a way of life, an art.

  There was no buying off a Pegg corsair. They knew that they could

  always get more from swashbuckling than they ever could from

  extortion. But Erryn suspected that it wasn’t even that for them.

  Pegg were bloody good pirates and seldom did someone miss a

  chance to show off what they were good at. As one of the best

  freighter pilots on this side of Great Terra, Erryn understood the

  need to show off one’s specialty. Unfortunately, the Pegg’s

  undertaking of their specialty tended to result in derelict ships,

  slaughtered crews and starving frontier worlds, as the traders they

  relied upon for food disappeared into asteroid fields.

  Erryn’s knuckles whitened on the throttle and then she let go.

  She let out a breath.

  Barry nodded, relieved.

  ‘Space is big. We’ll find a way around. You’ll find a way. You ain’t

  pilot of the Kolheim for nothing.’

  ‘We’re on deadline, Barry,’ Erryn reminded him, before taking a

  sip of the gravy from her noodle bowl. She pressed a button on the

  side of the bowl to disable its grav-field, enabling her to eat. The

  grav-field was an annoyance, but a necessity when eating such hot

  foods around sensitive equipment.

  Barry frowned.

  ‘Let me worry about that. You just find another way around.

  Maybe skirt by Askaia Prime?’

  ‘Nebu-,’ Erryn finished her bite and continued, ‘Nebula in the

  way. Skiting big one. We’d be unable to warp. Could be stuck there

  for months.’

  ‘Eish…any other way?’

  Erryn irritably put down her bowl, reactivating the grav. She

  spun her chair and brought up a holo-screen of the area.

  ‘Nebula is this purple splotch by Askaia. Route 103 is our usual

  route. A nice clear warp to Extos III. But Pegg disruptors are a

  nuisance, eh.’

  She drew a straight line through Route 103, and then a 90-degree

  line from their position through a position above them and then to

  the other side of the blockade.

  ‘This is our best option. We warp to the Obzi Terrace and then

  warp to the other half of Route 103…’

  ‘What’s the catch?’

  ‘Two problems. Vokken big or zot-sized. Your pick. Obzi

  Terrace is an abandoned Trooper Armada facility, but the AI on the

  weapon platforms got a bit bored. They shoot every freighter that

  passes by. Only Armada ships get a pass.’

  ‘Second problem? Please tell me it’s not as bad as rogue syn

  turrets.’

  ‘Pegg got really good radar. You know that as well as I do.

  There’s a big chance they’ll tail us into the Terrace…’

  ‘We’re idling…’

  Erryn winced as she heard the voice of Gabriella Madias. While

  not an unpleasant voice (the accent was the usual clear Standard

  Terran common on the five-hundred core worlds) it heralded a

  dreadful owner.

  ‘Yes, Cap’n Madias, ma’am,’ Barry saluted. Erryn picked up her

  noodle bowl again.

  Captain Gabriella Madias wasn’t a shipborn, like Erryn and

  Barry. She was a planet-side Mozar sow. She was born on the dirt,

  not hard metal. Erryn didn’t trust dirt-birthers. But that wasn’t all

  that was wrong with her. Madias wasn’t a proper cap’n. She was a

  corporate appointment. The Titan Corporation, Kolheim’s current

  contractual employer for the next few routes, wanted a suit to watch

  over them. One of the Kolheim’s workman suggested that Titan

  was attempting to train its own freighter fleet. He suggested that

  Madias was a spy, learning the trade for the corporation. Money was

  too good to pass up, though. And Erryn didn’t believe that Titan

  needed to send spies to learn how to freight. They could get the

  details off the net.

  Rather, Madias was just a testament to corporate micro-

  managing. Everything had to be watched. Schedules had to be

  enforced. Deadlines, or as they called it, killing lines, had to be

  fulfilled. Erryn knew some corporates, and they were nice enough,

  for suits. She knew not every suit was like Madias. Unfortunately,

  Madias didn’t help their already flagging reputation.

  Madias gave a death glare to Erryn, who innocently sucked up a

  thick noodle.

  ‘Lines are being killed, Barry.’

  Madias seldom spoke directly to Erryn. Barry t
ended to be the

  victim of the sow’s perpetual scolding.

  ‘Yes, Cap’n. We’re sorting out a way past these Pegg…’

  ‘Warp through. Simple. Isn’t that what pilots are for?’

  Madias glanced at Erryn and sneered.

  ‘I’m sorry. Forgot you flunked Armada academy.’

  ‘Quit, Gabby. I quit Armada.’

  ‘Don’t call me Gabby.’

  Erryn stared, stone-faced. Madias glared back. Erryn won, as

  Madias turned back to Barry.

  ‘Time is money. Tell your nankei to pull that throttle and warp

  past those big-headed midgets.’

  ‘Sorry, cap’n. No can do. Pegg got disruptors. Can’t warp

  through them or around them. They’ve got a wide net. If we run to

  it, we’re caught. Might as well just jettison the cargo and hope these

  Pegg are the nice kind, and won’t torture us first…’

  ‘Should have hired a tougher crew…’

  ‘Forgive me, cap’n, but Pegg don’t care about tough. Doesn’t

  matter how hard you throw a punch. The grako are too fast to get

  hit. They’ll dodge, weave, bounce…till you can’t breathe from the

  exertion. Then you realise it wasn’t from the exertion. They’ve cut

  your oxygen pipe, or turned off the life-support on your ship. They

  then leave you. They know they can’t handle a fair fight. So they

  don’t fight fair. They shut off the gravity. They don’t need it. Their

  homeworld has very little. They’ve been bouncing and gliding since

  they were babes. They shut down our grav-fields first. Then the

  lights. If you’re lucky, you don’t know it when you’re dead…’

  ‘Enough shipborn spooks.’

  Madias had a good façade of being unscathed by this story, but

  her hands were shaking.

  ‘Fine. Get around them. Do what you must.’

  ‘It’s not so simple…’

  ‘Just do it!’

  ‘Roger, cap’n!’

  Barry ended with a salute. Madias turned heel and exited.

  ‘Why you lick her feet all the time, eh Barry? She’s got dirt on

  them.’

  Barry leant in, whispering. ‘She’s a grako, yeah, but she’s got

  connections. Kolheim needs this job, Erryn. We can’t blow it.

  Warp-rods are expensive.’

  ‘Space is big, Barry,’ Erryn grinned. ‘Plenty of other suits to lick.

  Don’t need this one grako.’

  ‘I’d rather not blow it just because there are other options. If we

  get a full-time Titan contract, we won’t be seeing her no more.’

  Erryn didn’t like it. The Kolheim wasn’t supposed to be a

  corporate vessel. They were hired by suits, but were supposed to be

  independent. They were a family, an institution. The Kolheim was

  owned by its crew, not some suit back in Great Terra or other core

  world that had never tasted Stardust. Erryn didn’t trust them. But

  she did trust Barry. As the usual captain of the Kolheim, Barry had

  kept the ship afloat since Erryn was born. After her parents were

  slain by Pegg, Barry had been the one to look after her. She didn’t

  like his plan, but she owed him enough to go through with it.

  Erryn nodded and changed the topic.

  ‘So, we making the jump to Obzi Terrace?’

  Barry frowned, pulling at his white beard.

  ‘Fine. Make the jump.’

  Erryn grinned. This wasn’t the best situation, but Erryn always

  liked a challenge. Route 103 was getting boring, anyway.

  ‘Kolheim. Prepare for jump in T-minus sixty seconds. We’re

  headed into an asteroid cluster and derelict site. There may be

  hostiles, but anything’s better than Pegg. Keep strapped in, but arm

  yourselves, just in case. Stay alert. Pegg may pursue.’

  Barry ended the transmission and let go of the intercom button.

  He then took a seat and strapped himself in. He gave a thumbs up

  and Erryn turned back to the windscreen.

  A Pegg armada could be seen through the scanner, casting a

  disruptor net across the route. Thankfully, the Kolheim had an

  excellent scanner, and could detect ships mega-miles away. The

  Kolheim had been in service for over a century and that amount of

  time meant a lot of upgrades. Erryn zoomed in for a better image

  of one of the closer Pegg corvettes. The ship looked like one of

  those lizards with the skin flaps around their heads. Erryn sneered.

  It was ugly. To be fair, most ships were ugly compared to the shining

  and smooth marvel that was Kolheim’s silver and gold hull. She

  loved her ship.

  Erryn calibrated the coordinates to the Terrace and pivoted the

  Kolheim to face towards the cluster above. She continued the

  countdown in her head.

  ‘Ten more seconds until jump,’ she announced over the

  intercom.’

  She placed her hand on the throttle, hoped to whatever human

  god was listening that the Pegg wouldn’t follow, and then pulled

  back.

  The stars turned to streaks and nearby objects blurred and

  disappeared instantaneously. The signal from the Pegg armada

  blinked away. They were light years away now. Hopefully, they’d

  stay that way.

  With a jolt that would have no doubt tossed Madias around, the

  Kolheim blinked into existence alongside a cluster of space rock and

  derelict ships. In the distance, a red sun cast light upon the facility.

  Just in front of the Kolheim was the charred hull of an Armada

  frigate. The black and red flag of the Trooper Order was still clearly

  illustrated across the side.

  ‘Looks like Xank blasts,’ Barry guessed, now looking over

  Erryn’s shoulder.

  ‘Heard it was,’ Erryn added. ‘Bird-men went around Extos III to

  destroy the outpost here. Armada was taken by surprise.’

  ‘Let’s not make the same mistake. Stay frosty. Well, I don’t need

  to tell you that.’

  ‘Yessir, Barry. We can crawl the outskirts. Won’t wake up the

  plats if we don’t go near them.’

  Barry nodded and then left.

  Erryn set the Kolheim along a clear course around the cluster

  and then picked up her noodle bowl again. It was taking her a long

  time to finish it with all the constant interruptions. With the room

  to herself, she could now finish. In the distance, she heard chatter.

  Only a few of the technicians would be working. The porters, guards

  and emergency staff would be playing games, chatting and drinking

  up the Stardust. A freighter as big as the Kolheim required a lot of

  hands, but not all the time. In transit, when engines weren’t burning,

  only a few technicians and the pilot were needed. But guards and

  firemen were always needed in the case of pirates or damage to the

  ship. Hopefully, they would need neither.

  Route 103 was usually a safe route. It was a clear route from

  Croth 7 to the Extos strip. For a frontier freighter, it was integral to

  their trade. Core worlds didn’t pay for food. They had enough as is.

  But food was cheap on the core worlds, and scarce on the frontier.

  So, ships like the Kolheim made a booming trade supplying the

  frontier settlements with food from their richer cousins.

  But operating a vessel was expensive. Warp
-rods were the fuel

  for warp jumps and only the frontier had warp fields sustainable

  enough to feed the galaxy’s thirst for space travel. To churn a profit

  from this venture, the Kolheim needed to scale up. So, it took a

  contract with Titan. Thus, they didn’t need to buy their own trade

  commodities. Titan would just pay them for their services. Erryn

  hoped it was for the best.

  Erryn steered slightly to avoid an asteroid and then took a swig

  of the noodle gravy. The bowl briefly blocked her vision. When she

  looked down, she was face to face with the barrel of a gun. She

  stayed still, not even swallowing the gravy. If this was a syn weapon

  platform, it would react to movement. She had to drift past. Pretend

  to be a space rock. The lights on the cannon weren’t on, but that

  could mean little. Troopers weren’t big on letting their enemies

  know when their defences were online or not.

  Erryn nudged the boosters, ever so slightly, to avoid a collision

  with the plat. No reaction. She would have sighed, but she wasn’t in

  the clear yet. The barrel was no longer levelled at the Kolheim, but

  these syns had 360-degree vision. One wrong move and even the

  Kolheim’s shields wouldn’t be able to hold up at this range.

  Easy does it, girl.

  Almost out of range. They needed that extra distance. Deflectors

  weren’t instantaneous. Almost, almost…

  ‘We’re idli…’

  The turret blinked to life and swivelled towards the Kolheim.

  Erryn spat the gravy at the windscreen in fright. She locked in the

  boosters and spun the controls, jinking hard. Madias took flight,

  hitting the doorway with an oomph.

  ‘I’ll have your head, Pilot!’

  Erryn ignored her, weaving as a blast of blue energy erupted from

  the barrel towards them. Erryn swerved, barely avoiding the

  projectile.

  ‘Well, so much for a quiet ride.’

  Erryn activated the intercom.

  ‘Prepare for a bumpy flight. We’ve got projectiles incoming.

  Emergency staff on standby.’

  ‘I’m the Captain!’ Madias shouted.

  ‘Only when the Captain ain’t needed, Gabby.’

  Erryn activated the deflectors and then barrel rolled. More

  weapon plats were activating. Some were dry-firing at her, out of

  ammo. Erryn bobbed and weaved, sharp movements. Madias was

  clinging to a railing, teeth chattering.

  ‘Close your mouth. You’ll crack your teeth.’