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Sailing The Seas of Stars by Andrea Speed
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On September 18, 2014, all authors will be revealed!
Important Note: The content for these stories belong solely to the authors that wrote them.
Sailing The Seas of Stars
by Andrea Speed
The fight for the SS Blackstar was over almost the moment it began.
Captain Karras scowled down at his instrument panel as the lights flashed red across the board. "We've been sabotaged," he announced, to the two crew members aboard, Private Crow and Private Leonidi.
Both Privates exchanged baffled looks before staring at their Captain. "What do you mean, sir?" Leonidi asked.
"As soon as I tried to engage the particle gun, the power core overloaded and shut down. That doesn't happen without help." The Captain glared between them, scowling, as if he could frighten one of them into confessing. Neither did.
There was a slight tremor as the attacking ship, which called itself the Byzantium, attached itself to the airlock. It was locked, but there was little trick to forcing one open, as redundant safety features made it fairly easy to open from the outside.
“Why would they scuttle us for food?” Crow asked, scratching his head. “We don’t even have as much as the other convoy ships.”
Karras, grimaced, grumbled, and turned away, facing the front screen, which showed only the black of open space, and part of the rear tailfin of the Byzantium. “We’re not just carryin’ food. We’re also carryin’ weapons for the Trovodine.”
“What?” Crow exclaimed. The Blackstar was part of a loose convoy of privateers bringing food aid to war ravaged Trovomarr Four. It was a neutral act, not choosing sides between the Trovodine and the Marrans. Smuggling weapons to one side was not only a violation of their neutrality, but kind of a dick move, since by all accounts, the Trovodines were butchers.
Karras rolled his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “We’re bein’ paid good money for this cargo.”
“Really?” Leonidi replied, with a sharp edge to her voice. “Were we ever going to see any of it?”
Karrass muttered something unintelligible, but the answer was fairly clear. If they didn’t know about it, they didn’t know they weren’t being paid.
There was a brief blip as the pirates connected to their comm system, and then a warm and hearty voice spilled out. “Ahoy, the SS Blackstar. We mean you no harm. We’re here simply to liberate ill gotten booty from your holds. Don’t get physical with us, and we won’t get physical with you.” The door to the cockpit slid open, and the speaker stepped inside. “I’m sure you want us off your ship as fast as possible, Captain.”
Karras stumbled back, putting his hand on the dead console, as he recognized Captain Jai “Blackjack” Barrett, the most notorious pirate in all the spaceways. While rumor had built him up to a Freijan sized behemoth, he seemed to be a regular sized Earthling, with a broad chest and rugged features, and shaggy hair as black as a raven's wing, falling softly over his oddly colored eyes. One was deep brown, and the other was red, suggesting a cybernetic implant. He had the ghost of a scar on his left cheek, and was so handsome you could imagine people wishing he would board them after he'd taken their ship. “Who told you?” Karras asked.
Blackjack gave him a brilliant smile, one that would have been attractive if not for the fact that he was looting the ship. “Anybody with a scanner worth a damn could see through your interference field, Cap'n. It looks like you have some Jortonian shoulder rockets. Cheap knock offs or the real deal?”
Leonidi gasped. Jortonian weapons were not only illegal in this sector, they generally had depleted uranium and unstable frecyltine metal in them. They were super deadly, sometimes to the person using them. “Captain, how could you?” she asked.
Karras shook his head. “It's perfectly safe. They're in stabilization cases.”
“That work seventy five percent of the time,” Blackjack countered. “So you played the odds that you weren't in the twenty five percent failure column. I respect that. But you had no right to gamble with your crews' lives when they didn't even know they were playing.” Blackjack looked over at both Leonidi and Crow, and said, “There's always room on my ship for two hearty crewman. What do you say?”
Leonidi ripped the name patch off her jumpsuit, and tossed it at Karras's feet. “Got to be better than this place.” She then turned and stalked out, presumably to join the boarding party clearing the weapons out of the cargo hold.
Crow glanced at Blackjack, and said, “You know my answer.”
Blackjack nodded his head once in return, a sly grin on his face.
Karras looked between the two of them, and he gasped as he finally put it together. “You, Crow. You're the traitor.”
Crow tore his name tag off his jumpsuit, and glared at Karras. “Of course I am. Shipping Jortonian weapons to the Trovodines? What kind of asshole does that? And you never even told us, which makes you an even bigger asshole.”
Blackjack put an arm around Crow's shoulders. “You're not known for treating your employees well, matey.”
“And my boyfriend treats his crew with dignity. Also, keggers.”
Blackjack kissed Crow, a quick kiss that was still full of promise for fun later. Karras glared at them as Blackjack asked, “So, should we keelhaul him?”
Crow honestly had no idea what that meant, but it sounded painful. “Naw. Let him continue on with the food shipment. I bet the Trovodines won’t be happy when he shows up without the weapons.”
Karras’s expression of anger collapsed as he grasped the reality of that situation. “Hey, uh, maybe we can work out a deal, huh?”
Crow tossed his torn name badge aside, and slipped his arm around Blackjack’s waist as they turned to leave the cockpit. “Too late, Captain. I don’t work for you anymore.”
Blackjack was right. That was a satisfying way to quit a shitty job.
*******
About the Author
Andrea Speed was born looking for trouble in some hot month without an R in it. She’s the author of the Infected series for Dreamspinner Press, the Josh of the Damned series for Riptide Publishing, and has a bunch of non-series stuff as well. She makes up stuff, just to be an ass. In her spare time, she arms lemurs in preparation for the upcoming war against the Mole Men. Viva la revolution!