The Star Pirate's Folly (22 page)

Bee opened the locker to see her own reflection gaping back
at her from the golden-yellow visor on a fully armored black nullsuit helmet.
The rest of the pieces were nestled into recessed areas in the locker. The
torso and gloves hung on the back wall under the helmet, the arms and legs took
up the side walls, and the boots rested on the locker’s floor. Stripes matching
the warm yellow of the visor marked the connecting edges of each piece.

“Armor,” she whispered.

“It’s for the unlikely event that we’re boarded by any of
the more… murder-oriented folks out here,” Truly said. “Or if we end up taking
a walk out on one of these rocks we’re after. First one’s pretty close now.”

“It’s beautiful.” Bee traced her fingers along the helmet’s
slick nullsteel coating.

The First Officer snorted. “You’re easily impressed. It’s
military surplus. Captain keeps a couple of spares in storage for parts. He
fixed this one up for you.”

“It’s mine?”

“Long as it fits. You just gonna stare at it?”

Giddy with excitement, Bee removed the straps holding the
suit’s armored torso in place. She remembered the order Truly always suited up
in and mimicked him by starting there first.

“Wrong,” Truly said. “How many time have I geared up in
front of you? What you missing?”

Wincing at her mistake, Bee ran through Truly’s usual
process. Torso first every time, that was always it. Then legs, boots, arms,
gloves, and helmet. Missing what, there were no other pieces. She looked over
the locker, touching each as she tallied it off her list.

“There’s nothing else,” she said finally. “I don’t know.”

“Check the drawer down there.”

Bee looked below the locker door in the drawer. Folded up
inside was a stack of folded fabric undersuits like the ones Truly wore. She
pulled one free and shook it out, the legs flopping to the floor. “I see.”

“Undersuit. That’s the first layer. Regulates your body
temperature, captures moisture, and monitors your health for your armor. Go put
that on and you can do the rest.”

When Bee returned in the skintight black undersuit she felt
naked. It ended at her neck just under her jaw and covered every other inch,
but it felt unnervingly like wearing nothing. She set about putting on her
armor without pause, confident this time that she’d do it right. Twisting the
torso at the waist separated it into two parts—the chest and a pelvic piece
which she stepped into like underwear. Bee slid the chestpiece over her head
and reattached it at the waist, the hard sleek armor settling on her shoulders.
She felt it contract for a snug fit.

“Feels good,” she said, moving on to the legs. Already she
was lighter with most of her body mass inside the gravity-nullifying suit. Once
she got everything but the helmet in place she gave Truly a twirl for
inspection. “Well?”

“Looks fine,” he said. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

Bee admired the glossy black armor. Everything felt easier,
like the suit moved before she did. She sniffed inside the helmet before
putting it on. “Smells a bit, uh… musty, though. Did you guys clean it first?”

Truly stared at her and shook his head with disdain. “And
here I thought you might make a real soldier someday. Just put it on, we need
to run some drills. Swapping to a powered suit will take some getting used to.
It’s designed to reduce fatigue and enhance strength. You move, it moves.”

After another tentative whiff, Bee lowered the helmet onto
her head. It didn’t smell too bad, just old and unused. She hoped everything
still worked. When she sealed the helmet in place, the projection display lit
up with data.

“Initializing,” Myra’s voice said in her ear.

Bee looked around for the AI. She’d been so focused on the
suit she didn’t notice the hardlight projection of Myra’s body had vanished.
“Myra?”

“Internal diagnostics complete,” Myra said. She sounded
canned, robotic. “Powered armor fully operational.” Then her voice shifted back
to normal and she said, “Sorry, I didn’t tell you there’s a clone of me in
there with you.”

“A clone?”

“A stripped down copy of myself that can only perform
certain functions. It’s not all of me, but it can help you aim a gun, correct
your trajectory, identify targets—a thousand other things. You’re like a
student pilot and I’m your instructor.”

“Wait, so you can control
me
in this thing?” The
armor felt a lot less safe knowing Myra could just hijack it if she wanted.
Less like a protective shell and more like a full-body collar, with the shadow
of an unstable artificial intelligence on the other end of the leash. “Not sure
I’m okay with that.”

Truly said, “Myra’s clone is in there to make things easier
for you, guide your movements. You’re stronger in a powered suit.”

“Come on Truly, I don’t need training wheels.”

“Yes you do. We prepped you in that fabric suit for a
reason. A powered suit is as much a weapon as it is armor. Treat it with
respect. Besides, she runs all our suits. There are some things she can do that
we just can’t.”

“Alright, I got you,” Bee said unhappily. She cleared the projection
display so she could see straight. All the biometrics and startup processes on
display were making her dizzy. “So I’m a soldier now, huh?”

“Not even close,” Truly said. “But we’ve got nothing but
time out here on the float. Could be a year or more before we find our stash.
Might be we could make something useful out of you. Let’s get moving, give me
fifteen wall-to-walls lengthwise.”

After unlocking her boot nodes with a twitch of her heels,
Bee pushed off from the floor and pulled herself over to the wall, reorienting
to stand above the nullroom door. Everything felt solid—a bit less flexibility
than her old suit but surprisingly unrestrictive compared to what she expected.
She squatted in place on the wall, preparing her muscles for the jump, and
asked, “You really think we’ll find anything?”

A light push sent her sailing headfirst to the opposite
wall. Economy of motion, Truly always said, every movement precise. The armor
was much bulkier than her fabric suit, but it didn’t seem to be holding her
back at all.

“No one can say for sure. Not even Myra knows what we’ll
really find out there, but the Captain’s been dead set on this for years now.
If he’s convinced I’m convinced.”

Approaching the wall, Bee rolled forward into a somersault
and pulsed the nodes on her boots as she extended her legs to land. She bent at
the knees when she touched down, sticking for just a moment, and sprang back
toward the other end of the room again. “Just asking ‘cause if we do find
something… I get a cut, right?”

Truly laughed. “That’s between you and the Captain—and Dreadstar
too, I guess. Good form, by the way. Looking natural.”

Bee stuck her second landing square and shoved off again.

***

Still flush with adrenalinee after a two-hour set and a
shower, Bee was on her way back to the nullroom when Myra called over the
speakers for a crew meeting on the bridge. She hurried there and came in behind
Silver. Captain Anson, Ferro, and Truly huddled around a cluster of projected
windows as they listened to Myra’s voice. Her body was absent.

“The drones found something just below the surface,” Myra
said. “One is landing while the other observes.”

“What have we got?” Captain Anson asked.

“Best I can tell you is it’s a metallic structure, most
likely man-made,” Myra said. “Whatever it is doesn’t match the rest of the
asteroid. It didn’t show up on the long-range scanners, but up close it’s
harder to hide.”

“Some kind of outpost?” Silver ventured.

“We’ll have to wait on our drones and see.”

Captain Anson rubbed his palms together. “We may be on to
something here. Really on to something.”

They watched the drone’s camera feed as it flitted to the
asteroid’s craggy surface. Myra tweaked the display and replaced the bright
green blob with an outline around its circumference. All the rock and sand
within the circle looked exactly the same as everything around it.

Then the faintest tremor rippled across the surface.

“Power surge!” Myra cried. “It’s an active gate!”

The ground in front of the drone erupted in a sudden cloud
of black dirt, and from it emerged the nose of a battle-scarred warship. As it
tore free from the hidden gate a cannon primed and fired on the drone. Its
display went dark.
Deep Fog
streaked away from the asteroid, firing a
parting shot that took out the other drone before anyone could blink.

“Truly, Hornets!” Captain Anson barked, and the First
Officer dashed away.

Bee’s mind went stupid with shock. A gate? What was a gate
doing there? How did Starhawk get through it? Her heart started pounding in a
hot rush. Starhawk. This had to be it. Steel or no steel, she’d found her
fight.

Kill him,
Mother hissed.

“He’s coming straight for us,” Myra said. “Twenty-three
minutes and they’re on us. Maintain course or do we break and run?”

“Maintain course, we’ve got nowhere to go. Silver, you’ve
got the bridge!” Anson stalked after Truly and said to Bee, “You, with me.”

Bee fell into step after him.

“We’re gonna suit up and get ready to fight,” he said over
his shoulder. “He’ll want to take us as a prize. If they board us we hold the
bridge no matter what. You hear me?”

“Hold the bridge,” Bee repeated with a complete lack of
confidence as she walked behind the Captain. “I only just got my suit.”

“Yeah, and now you get to use it to kill pirates,” he said,
grunting as he opened the bulkhead door to the nullroom. “Isn’t this what you
wanted?”

What she wanted.

Bee slid the tight-fitting nullsuit helmet over her head,
the scent of old dust filling her nostrils. If she had what she wanted she’d
never have been involved in any of it. Had it been her choice she’d be living a
happy life on Surface. Whatever that meant. Revenge was all she knew. The only
time resembling peace she could remember was the Midtown. Hargrove.

Starhawk butchered that fond memory.

“Am I good?” she asked the Captain.

He gave her armor a rapid once over and patted her twice on
the back before sealing his own helmet to his suit, the plain black nullsteel
gleaming with hints of purple. Aside from the Captain’s suit being a few sizes
larger, the only difference between them seemed to be the stripes of color
across their joints—white for him and yellow for her.

“Just let Myra show you what to do,” Anson said. “When it
comes to real combat your brain can’t do what she can. She’ll give you an edge,
keep you alive. Let her take over and you’ve got a better chance—we’ll all be
doing the same if it comes to it. Follow me.”

With no room for argument, Bee followed the veteran
privateer back to the bridge.

“We’re a bunch of damn fools,” Anson said, seething with
anger as he ranted over the common channel. “They weren’t burying his
stockpile, they were building a network of these things. And we didn’t even know!
Flew out here thinking I’d be able to retire and instead we plow straight into
a cosmic shitstorm.”

“Can we take him?”

The Captain forced a sharp laugh. “Why do you think we’re
maintaining course? He’s foolish to come after us.”

A thrill of excitement shot through her. After so much time
spent waiting, her moment would finally come. She imagined Starhawk surviving
whatever kind of damage
Wanderlust
could inflict on his ship, that he’d
be alive there inside—wounded, drifting, helpless. She’d start with his face.

“He’s been quiet,” Myra said to them. “Before he couldn’t
wait to blab on about himself, but so far nothing.”

“No theatrics out here,” Anson said. “He’s come for blood.”

“He’ll be swimming in it. Truly’s launching the Hornets and
we’re three minutes from firing range.”

The Captain entered the bridge, Bee close on his heels.
Silver and Ferro tended the projected map in the center of the room, where
their little scrap of the asteroid belt was etched in three dimensions. The gap
between
Wanderlust
and the flashing enemy ship shrank with each moment.

“Hornets away," Truly said.
Wanderlust
spawned a
cluster of smaller ships on the display.

Captain Anson watched the map. "We move in slow. Myra,
be ready to make a break. I want to draw him as far from that gate as we
can—could be a trap waiting on the other side."

Bee clenched her armored fists, eager to contribute.
"What can I do?"

"I told you," Anson said. "We hold the
bridge. If it comes to that."

“But I don’t have a gun.”

“That’s because I haven’t given you one yet. Not that I
expect you’ll get the chance to use it.”

"What about after we win? Do we board his ship?"

"If there's anything left of it," Silver sniffed.

Her persistence drew a glare from the Captain. She couldn't
see his expression through the helmet's reflective visor, but she got the
message and took a step back, silenced. Mother's words danced on the tip of her
tongue. He had to live. She hadn't come all the way from Surface to have him
die before she was ready to let him. No, he needed to live long enough to
suffer. Long enough to please Mother. Bee didn’t see any way to make that
happen, just felt the blind urge and hoped she’d get the opportunity.

"Gate just lit up again," Myra warned.
"Incoming fighter craft! He's got carriers on the other side!"

Dozens of tiny flashing blips swarmed from the asteroid.

"Reverse course!" Anson ordered. "Truly,
stick with us and we'll draw them out. Trap’s sprung, now we whittle them
down."

Bee watched the projection of
Wanderlust
whip around
impossibly fast at the Captain's command and speed away from the approaching
ships, the squadron of seven Hornets following in its wake. Bee wasn't sure if
she actually felt the ship lurch as it spun or if she only imagined it, but her
stomach twisted in unhappy knots.

"He's got the edge now," Myra said. "We've
got to keep distance from the gate or they could just keep throwing fighters at
us. We play it safe, chip away with the Hornets. Once we're far enough out we
can make a move for
Deep Fog
, but we can't engage yet."

The map in front of the crew expanded to display as much
detail as possible, enlarging to many times its original size.
Wanderlust
and its squadron of Hornet fighters led the pursuers by hundreds of miles, but
Bee knew within seconds they could close that distance. After so long, there he
was. Just moments away.

“You’re trembling,” whispered Myra on their private channel.

“I’m close,” Bee said to her. “Almost there.”

“I know. I’ve seen it. I’m going to help you. Are you
ready?”

“Yes.” The word came sharp and sure, no hesitation—steel,
like the Captain said.

“Ready to be a traitor?”

Bee cocked her head. “What?”

A yellow waypoint arrow appeared at the far right edge of
her display, indicating she had to turn to see the area it marked. Looking over
her shoulder, Bee saw the outline of
Wanderlust’s
transport shuttle
through the walls.

“If you want to get Starhawk yourself that’s how you’re
going to have to do it. Victor’s going to send you to the armory in a minute
but instead you’ll go to the shuttle.”

“What are you doing?”

“Victor’s not going to let you out of his reach unless you
force his hand,” Myra said. “Starhawk dies today, there’s no doubt of that—the
only question is how. If you want things your way you need to make some
sacrifices. Like Victor’s trust.”

“Why the shuttle? It’s not even armed, is it?”

“No.”

“So why—”

The Captain’s voice cut in on the common channel. “Bee, meet
Spud in the armory,” he said. “He’ll get you what you need. You’re my last line
of defense if any of these bastards get on board, so move it.”

“Okay—yes, sir,” Bee said, hesitant. For a second she froze,
sure the Captain would somehow know she’d been conspiring with Myra.

“Go on, I said
move
.”

She left the bridge and stopped just outside, the outline of
the shuttle still gleaming at the other end of the ship. One of Myra’s
waypoints popped up in the hallway to her right, urging her toward the shuttle.
She knew the armory was the other way.

Myra said privately to her, “Spud’s not in the armory
anyway. He’s waiting for you on the shuttle. We’re forming our own little
boarding party.”

“What about the crew? Captain said he needed me here.”

“He just wants to keep you safe. Do you want this or not, Bee?
Time’s ticking.”

“Why would you do this?” Bee demanded.

“Because he’s got it coming.”

Reluctant to betray the Captain but exhilarated at the idea
of finally coming face to face with Starhawk, Bee felt suddenly as though the
entire suit was nudging her toward the waypoint. Like it
wanted
to go
that way, like it was alive and she’d taken over its body but it remained in
spirit. Again the suit made its wishes known, tiny pushing sensations all over,
as though a hundred small hands prodded her forward. She’d felt the same thing
during training with Truly.

“Stop it, Myra,” Bee said.

“It’s not me, it’s my clone. That’s how she’s gonna talk to
you, so you better learn to listen. Now
move it
. You don’t have long,
their fighters are closing the gap. We’ll lose our window—”

Bee made an unhappy growl as she gave in to the armor and
headed for the docking bay. Spud was there just like Myra said, pacing near the
shuttle’s open airlock in full suit. Bee waved for him to get inside the craft
as she approached. The gargantuan wrung his hands, looking oddly childlike, and
glanced at the shuttle.

Spud joined their private channel and asked, “Going in
there?”

“It’s alright, Spud,” Myra crooned, her hardlight projection
appearing with a shimmer to take him by the elbow. “We’re just going for a
little ride. There are some bad men after us right now, Spud, and we need your
help to fight them. Are you ready?”

The armored giant straightened to his full height and puffed
out his chest. “Always ready to fight.”

With some gentle encouragement from Myra and Bee, they got
him on board along with the overstuffed bags of weaponry he’d brought from the
armory. The bags must have been made with a nullsteel weave like her old suit
because they hardly weighed a thing. Either that or the armor gave her more
strength than she expected. Once inside Bee dropped the bags and Spud shut the
airlock behind her. She headed to the cockpit. From its main displays Bee saw
the docking bay’s outer door crack open and the shuttle plotted a flightpath to
the enemy warship.

“How exactly is this going to work?” Bee asked as the
shuttle rose off the deck. Myra must have been piloting.

“Well, first off we’ll need a couple of Truly’s Hornets to
protect us,” Myra said. The Hornets’ outlines illuminated on Bee’s display.
“Here goes.”

The docking bay faced the rear of
Wanderlust
, giving
Bee a clear view of the marked enemy fleet off in the distance. Starhawk’s pack
of fighter craft streaked ahead of his flagship
Deep Fog
, growing closer
every second. The seven Hornets flitted around in defensive positions at
Wanderlust’s
flank. Bee wondered which one Truly was piloting. The rest had to be under
Myra’s control.

“You’ll want to get to the rear of the ship with Spud,” Myra
said. “Our landing will be… a bit rough.”

Bee hurried to the spot Myra indicated with a waypoint and
found Spud crouched with his back against the wall. He grabbed her arm and
pulled her down next to him. “This is insane,” she realized.

“No, my dear. This is cold, hard calculation.”

“No, you’re gonna crash us into his ship. That’s insane.”

“It’s the only way,” Myra assured her, and brought Truly
into their channel. “Truly, heads up. Got a javelin needs an escort here.”

“Javelin? What?” Truly said, confused. “Negative, Myra, negative.
I need every one of these to keep the fighters away.”

“You’ll make do.”

Two of the roving Hornet fighters broke away from the rest
and sped toward the shuttle as it exited the docking bay.

“Myra, no!” Truly shouted. “Captain, she’s rogue. Do you
copy? Captain!”

“Sorry, Truly. I hate to come between you two, but he’ll
understand. Just stick to the plan, I’m only borrowing them. You draw the
fighters out, give us an opening. I’m already inside
Deep Fog’s
systems—we’ve
got ‘em by the balls, they just don’t know it yet. I can disarm their defenses
for maybe twenty seconds before they shut me out.”

“Myra, you conniving—”

“Best get moving, Truly.”

She dropped him from the channel as he unloaded a barrage of
filthy insults. Crouched next to Spud in the shuttle, Bee felt very much afraid
of Myra then. She wondered if the Captain had figured out what they were doing.
Surely he’d see the Hornets out of position—unless Myra deceived him on the
bridge, presented false readings. She had absolute power over
Wanderlust
,
it seemed, with or without the Captain’s permission. He might not even know
anything was wrong yet.