The Star Pirate's Folly

Chapter 39: Traitor

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 had 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 his 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 golden yellow for her.

"Just let Myra show you what to do," Anson said. "When it comes to real combat a human brain can't do what an AI can. She'll give you an edge. 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," said Anson, 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?"

A thrill of excitement shot through her. After so much time spent waiting, her moment would finally come. She hoped he'd survive 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 flexed armored fists, eager to contribute. "What can I do?"