The Jupiter Pirates (14 page)

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Authors: Jason Fry

BOOK: The Jupiter Pirates
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“Thank you, Mr. Grigsby,” Mavry answered solemnly, then raised his voice. “I don't need to tell any of you what's waiting for us. Thoadbone Mox is the kind of Jupiter pirate who gives all of us an evil reputation. He's a murderer and a slaver—and a traitor. Today, he atones for those crimes—crimes against the Jovian Union, his fellow pirates, the families of the missing, and the glory of our good name. Now form up!”

“Three cheers for First Mate Mavry! Three cheers for Captain Huff! Three cheers for Master Carlo!” a crewer yelled, followed by cheers so loud that Tycho had to lift the earpiece away from his head.

“Dobbs! Safrax!” Grigsby yelled. “Point!”

“Captain, boarding parties here,” Mavry yelled over the noise. “We're ready.”

Diocletia bit her lip, then activated her microphone.

“You are green for boarding,” she said. “Godspeed.”

Tycho, Yana, and Diocletia heard the clatter of the crewers' weapons, the moan of a hatch opening—and then the staccato sound of blasters firing.

 

16
BATTLE FOR THE
HYDRA

S
itting on the quarterdeck of the
Comet
, Tycho, Yana, and Diocletia could only listen to crewers screaming in defiance and pain, the repeated cracks of shots, and the sound of running feet.

“What's happening down there?” Yana demanded of no one in particular.

“Eyes on your scopes,” Diocletia reminded her.

Tycho had a layout of a Leopard-class frigate on his screen, with points of light indicating the positions of Mavry, Carlo, and Huff. All three were wearing tracers on their belts that allowed him to track their progress through Mox's ship.

“One man down,” Mavry said into his microphone, breathing hard. “Mox's crewers are resisting, but we're advancing. It's dark—power's completely out.”

“I hope the schematics we have for the
Hydra
are accurate,” Tycho said to Yana. “If she's been remodeled, they could walk right into a wall—or worse.”

Mavry's voice was drowned out as he fired his pistol. Someone screamed.

“The first wave of pirates broke and ran,” he said. “We should be at the starboard passageway now. Do you see us, Tycho?”

“Yes,” Tycho said, looking at the schematic. “That passageway should run the length of the ship to aft and dead-end at the fire room. Carlo, moving forward you'll hit a T intersection. Turn left, then right, and you should hit the quarterdeck.”

“Got it,” Carlo said. “I'm heading that way. Mr. Porco and Mr. Richards have lead. It's pitch black. We're feeling our way. Mr. Porco's infrared eye is no use—it's too cold in here.”

Tycho tried to imagine feeling his way in the dark aboard a strange ship, not knowing what was waiting for you in the darkness and unable to turn on your headlamp because it would make you an easy target. At least for the moment, being aboard the
Comet
didn't seem so bad.

“Dad, stay where you are,” Diocletia said.

“There's folks on this tub what need holes put in 'em, Dio,” Huff objected.

“And Mavry and Carlo may need your help,” Diocletia replied. “Sit tight.”

Huff grumbled, but the dot of light representing him came to a halt, while Mavry's dot moved slowly toward the
Hydra
's stern. A moment later Tycho watched as Carlo's dot intersected a wall and kept going.

“Wait, Carlo!” Tycho said.

“What?” his brother demanded.

“Unless you can walk through walls, your schematic's wrong,” Tycho said.

“You're right,” Carlo said. “Ugh. Everything's different in here.”

“They probably reconfigured the layout to make room for the topside gun turrets,” Yana said. “Which would mean the ladderwells—”

Suddenly someone yelped and there was a crash, followed by a quick flurry of shouts and curses.

“Porco fell down the ladderwell!” Carlo yelled.

Four shots rang out.

“We've got to help him!” Carlo yelled. “Go! Go! Go!”

They heard Carlo breathing hard, the clatter of feet on ladder rungs—and then a confused mass of shooting and yelling.

“We're belowdecks,” Carlo said. “But so is—”

And then he cried out.

Tycho, Yana, and Diocletia leaned forward.

“Carlo! Carlo!” Tycho kept repeating into the microphone.

“Here,” Carlo said after a moment. “I—I'm hit, but I think I'll be okay. But we're pinned down! They're all around us!”

“Dad!” Diocletia said. “Carlo—”

“I hear it,” Huff said. “C'mon, mateys! Yeh wanna live forever?”

“Still moving aft,” Mavry said. “Is Carlo okay?”

Tycho started to answer, but Diocletia cut him off.

“Dad's on it,” she said.

For a long moment all they heard was the whistle and whine of shots from Carlo's group and the grunts and tramps of Huff and the Hashoone retainers feeling their way toward his position. Tycho saw Mavry's dot stop and knew his father was wrestling with what to do, desperate to help Carlo but mindful of the mission.

“Continuing aft,” Mavry said finally, his dot moving again.

“We're at the ladderwell,” Huff said. “Carlo, covering fire. We're comin' down and comin' hard.”

“Form up!” Carlo yelled. “Fire all directions!”

Tycho heard a clang and a clatter that had to be his grandfather's metal feet hitting the decking at the foot of the ladderwell, and saw the dots representing him and Carlo converge. Then they heard firing and yelling, broken by Huff's roars and some impressively awful oaths. Huff yelled in pain, then opened fire with his forearm cannon, cursing steadily.

“How d'ye like that for payback, you slaver rat?” Huff growled, his voice strained. “I've got Carlo. But it's hard fightin' down here, Captain.”

“Are you all right?” Diocletia asked.

“Flesh wound from a lucky shot,” Huff muttered. “But we'll be a while flushing this lot out of their holes. Someone needs to secure the quarterdeck.”

Tycho looked at the dots—Huff and Carlo together, Mavry aft.

“We can double back—” Mavry began, then cursed as blaster fire began bursting around him, too.

“Stick to the plan,” Diocletia said. She stood and began gathering things from beneath her station.

“I'll go, Captain,” Yana said.

“No, I need you on the scans,” Diocletia said. “And to fly the
Comet
if more pirates arrive. Tycho—”

“If there are still pirates out there, you should fly the ship, Mom,” Tycho said. “You don't need a navigator, but you do need Yana to run scans—she's the best at it.
I'm
the one who should go. As long as Yana can handle communications.”

“I can handle anything on this ship,” Yana said. “Except pistols, apparently.”

“That's enough, Yana,” Diocletia warned.

She looked at her son for a long moment, frowning, and Tycho could see the doubt on her face.

“I'm ready for this, Captain,” he said, hoping that was true.

Diocletia shut her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them and nodded.

“Go,” she said. “I'll order another boarding party put together from the portside gun crews. I just wish we had more able spacers. Stay behind the retainers, Tycho. Get to the quarterdeck and hold it.”

Tycho leaped to his feet, passing his headset over to Yana. He reached under his workstation, thinking,
It's just like the simulator.
Vest. Gloves. Tracer. Headlamp. Pistol. One step at a time.

He zipped his vest and ran through the checklist one last time, then nodded at his mother and sister.

“Ready, Captain,” he said.

“Good luck,” Diocletia said. Then her gaze softened and she was staring at him, no longer the captain but his mother.

“Be careful, Tyke,” she said.

 

Belowdecks, it smelled like sweat, smoke, and burned circuitry. Seven Hashoone retainers were waiting for Tycho at the airlock, carbines in their hands. They saw him and snapped to attention.

Tycho looked at them, momentarily surprised. Most of them were just a few years older than he was, and they looked wild-eyed and scared. He supposed he shouldn't have been shocked—the
Comet
's most reliable retainers had all been assigned to the earlier boarding parties, and this was what was left.

It would have to do, Tycho thought.

“I'll make this fast,” Tycho said as he checked his carbine's power levels. “Our target is the quarterdeck. We're to secure her computers—and if we can, take her as a prize. Let's go.”

“Three cheers for Master Tycho!” said Croke, a retainer with a white beard and a mouth full of black ceramic teeth. He'd been the
Comet
's purser once, in charge of her finances, till his fondness for drink had landed him on the blacklist one too many times. Tycho sure hoped that wasn't a problem now.

“It's an honor to fight alongside you, gentlemen,” Tycho said, stepping behind Croke and two very young retainers—Higgs and Tully were their names, he remembered. Two more men, Laney and Chin, stepped behind him to protect their rear, leaving two retainers behind to guard the airlock.

“Yana, can you hear me?” Tycho asked.

“Loud and clear.”

“Good. I'm shutting down the others' channels—it's too easy to get lost or distracted in there.”

“I'll tell you anything you need to hear,” Yana said.

“I know you will,” Tycho said. “We're ready,
Comet
.”

“You are green for boarding,” Diocletia said.

Tycho gave the order, and the retainers rushed through the short passage connecting the two ships and leading into the gloom beyond. The
Hydra
smelled bad, like stale air and roasted meat, and Tycho could hear blaster fire. The men leading Tycho's group switched on their headlamps just long enough to illuminate the passageway.

“That's enough—shut them off,” Tycho said. “If there are any Hydras left, we'll be easy targets.”

Higgs reached up and fumbled with his lamp. His hand was shaking.

The lamps went off, plunging them into darkness. Tycho crept along behind the men, peering at the dimly lit schematic strapped to his forearm. Someone cursed, and a moment later Tycho stumbled over something. Laney turned on his light, and Tycho was staring at a dead pirate, mouth open in a terrible surprised O. He stepped gingerly over the man's body.

“It's an unlucky sight, boys, but don't let it rattle yeh,” Croke whispered. “That one had it comin', signin' on with a traitor like Mox.”

Tycho nodded and Laney shut off the light, leaving them in darkness again. They picked their way forward, occasionally stepping over other bodies lying twisted on the deck with unseeing eyes.

Suddenly Tycho felt unsteady on his feet, then found himself floating. One of the retainers cried out.

“Steady,” Tycho told them. “Activate the magnets in your gloves and boots. We can work our way along the walls.
Comet
, we're fine, but we've lost artificial gravity.”

“Auxiliary generator probably ran out of charge,” Yana said in his ear.

The firing ahead of them had stopped. Tycho looked at his schematic and realized this was where Carlo's group had gotten lost. He turned on his lamp and saw they were in a narrow room with two ladderwells instead of the maze of passageways shown on the schematic. Pistols and a knife were spinning slowly through the air.

Tycho signaled to the retainers, and they kicked with their hands and feet until they reached the wall, where they locked onto the metal, the magnets in their gloves clicking faintly. They shut off the lamps and began to work their way around the perimeter of the room in the darkness, lifting their hands and feet one at a time and clanking along the wall.

As they worked, Tycho told Yana what he'd seen of the room's layout.

“I think I know what modifications they made,” Yana said. “In about five meters you should reach a short passageway leading to the quarterdeck.”

“Tycho,
Ironhawk
's boarding party has entered the
Hydra
,” Diocletia said.

“Does that mean ‘Careful not to shoot them' or ‘Get to the quarterdeck before they do'?” asked Tycho.

“Both,” his mother said.

They reached the spot Yana had told them to aim for, but instead of the emptiness of a passageway, their fingers found the outline of a sealed door. Tycho and four retainers—Higgs, Tully, Croke, and Laney—turned on their lamps and took up positions on either side of the door, with the last retainer, Chin, clinging to the ceiling like a spider. They shut off the lights, and Tycho thumbed the door control. Nothing happened.

“Break it down, Mr. Croke,” he said.

“Tycho!” Yana said urgently in his ear. “Dad says another gang of Hydras got behind them—they're headed your way!”

Tycho spun, lifting his gloves off the walls too quickly. His upper body began to float, and he hurriedly felt for the wall again. He pulled out his earpiece and could hear yelling. The voices were getting closer.

“Enemy coming at us!” Tycho yelled. “Look to your rear! Tully, shut off that cursed light!”

A laser bolt struck high on the wall near Chin, dazzling Tycho's eyes. He heard the thump of the Hydras kicking off the walls of the passageway to hurl themselves through the air in zero gravity, screaming as they came. Another laser blast gouged the decking below Tycho's feet.

Just like the simulator,
Tycho reminded himself, trying to force himself to breathe. But of course it wasn't anything like the simulator. Wounds here were real, and those who died stayed dead.

“There's too many—they'll gun us down!” Higgs screamed, firing his carbine at the oncoming pirates. His eyes were huge and wild. In the sudden light from the shots, Tycho saw Chin windmilling his arms, trying to reestablish contact with the wall. Tully was fumbling for his blaster.

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