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  “Of course,” Bayne said.

  “Anywho, what can we do for you?”

  “As my lieutenant mentioned earlier, we’ve had some trouble with pirates.”

  Jarmin shifted his weight to the other leg, wincing slightly as he did. “That right? Can’t say we’ve heard of any pirates in the area. Strange. News of such things typically reaches us. Well, thanks for keeping us informed, Captain. Forewarned is forearmed, I always say.” The stout guild leader walked off-screen.

  “Excuse me, Mister Tetch,” Bayne called. Jarmin stepped back into view. “I didn’t come just to warn you. Our initial intent was to perform an inspection of Ore Town pursuant to the agreement between the United Navy and the Byers Clan when establishing these Deep Black operations. Our ship has suffered some damage, however, and we were hoping to make port at Ore Town and see to the repairs. My executive officer should have relayed that information.”

  “Oh,” Jarmin said, pulling at his collar. “Can’t say I’ve met with any officers of late.” He turned to the man standing to his left. “Any executive officers come by here?” The man shook his head. “Sorry, Captain, doesn’t appear your officer has made an appearance.”

  “Odd,” Bayne said. “He is a very punctual man, and I have confirmation that his shuttle landed safely in Ore Town.”

  Tetch shrugged. “Ore Town can be a confusing place to outsiders. A lot going on. Lot of hustle and bustle. Newcomers get turned around easily, lost in the confusion. I’ll send out my best men, have them search for your man. I assure you, Captain, they don’t let anyone give them the slip. They’ll track your man down soon enough.” Tetch winked.

  Bayne cleared his throat, trying to keep a clear and steady voice. “I would love to help, Mister Tetch. My crew and I will land and assist with the search. I’d hate to take away from your daily responsibilities.”

  Tetch gestured to someone off-screen. “May have a bit of a hang up there. We’ve had some issues with the planetary defenses lately. Radiation. Real screwy. The defenses have been firing up all on their own.”

  Delphyne signaled the captain and directed his attention to the monitor. Ore Town’s atmospheric defenses had activated.

  “We haven’t fully debugged the system yet,” Tetch said. “Afraid it’s not safe to make an approach until we do. You are welcome to remain in orbit for as long as you’d like, however. Just avoid entering atmosphere. I’d hate for our system to come online unintentionally if you did. Blast you pieces.”

  He’s not even trying to hide it anymore, Bayne thought. Hardly even classifies as “thinly veiled.” But Bayne smiled anyway. “Thank you, Mister Tetch. Please do notify me when your defenses are fixed. I hate to think of you alone all the way out here without a properly functioning means of defending yourself.”

  Jarmin smiled. That same smile Wilco tended to wear. Thin and wild, like a fox. “Oh, we manage to take care of ourselves. Not much out here that frightens us. And don’t you worry about your man. We’ll find him.”

  Tetch was a braggard for sure and the sort of man who spoke out of both sides of his mouth. Unfortunately, these were characteristics shared by both pirates and mining executives. Bayne needed to be sure which one Tetch was before taking action. Luckily, as was common of braggarts, Tetch couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  “Captain, I just remembered. Only a subsection of our planetary defense programming seems to be affected. The section that targets starships. Smaller class vehicles make it through just fine. Shuttles and such. A shame you can’t come pay a visit all on your lonesome.”

  A threat. That was enough for Bayne to conclude he was indeed speaking with a pirate. And it was just the opening Bayne needed.

  “Wonderful,” Bayne said. “Then I’ll ready my shuttle.”

  Something seemed to catch in Jarmin’s throat. “Your shuttle?”

  “Yes, I would hate to miss the opportunity to meet with you face to face. And I wouldn’t be much of a United Navy Captain if I passed on an opportunity to both find my missing officer and perform the inspection of your operation for which I was originally sent. Central Command would not be pleased if I left before ensuring permits are being met. Bureaucratic red tape, you know.” Bayne returned the fox smile. “I’m sure we can cut through it.”

  “I’m sure,” Jarmin said. “We will have the docking bay ready for your arrival, Captain.”

  The transmission ended. Bayne paced the bridge, deep in thought, but his thoughts were periodically pierced by the image of that jackal Jarmin. Taunting him. “Connect me to Mao.”

  12

  Wilco had helped himself to three more shots of rum before the captain made contact. He was starting to sway.

  “How you holding up, XO?” the captain said.

  “Fine, sir,” Mao answered. “What’s the word?”

  “The Ore Town administrator, or at least the man impersonating him, is coming for you. He knows that we know.”

  Wilco spun around on his stool, like a child on an amusement park ride. “But does he know that we know he knows?” He laughed and nearly fell onto the floor.

  “Who should I be looking for?” Mao asked.

  “Man goes by Jarmin Tetch.”

  Wilco finally did fall to the floor at the mention of the name. “Tetch? You said Tetch?”

  “You know him?” Mao asked.

  “Know of him,” Wilco said. “A captain of his own ship out here in the Deep Black a few years ago. Up and disappeared. Most thought him dead.”

  “I’m read up on all the pirate activity in this area,” Bayne said. “Why have I never heard of him?”

  “He went by Wormhole,” Wilco said.

  Judging by the sudden tightness on Bayne’s face, Mao guessed he had heard that name before. “Need I worry, Captain?” Mao asked.

  “Be cautious, XO.” The captain was never the reassuring type. It also showed when he tried, negating his attempt to do so. “Wormhole carried a reputation nearly as heavy as Parallax, but there is no need to worry. I’m coming to get you.”

  Bayne relayed his plan. A hasty one. Reckless. Very much like the captain as of late, and, so, much to Mao’s distaste. But he could see no other way out at the moment. He was surrounded by pirates. To be more specific, on an entire planet of pirates, it seemed, and one in his own company. If ever there was a time to forego protocol and think like a pirate, this was it.

  Though that thought did nothing to assuage the twisting in Mao’s gut, the fact that the plan seemed to sit well with Wilco did even less to help matters.

  “Good luck, XO,” Bayne said.

  “You too, Captain.” The shimmering form of Captain Drummond Bayne faded away, leaving Mao in the uncomfortable position of questioning the man’s leadership. Mao had served under Bayne the entirety of the Deep Black mission, and a while before that. Of all those aboard the Royal Blue, they had been together the longest, and this was the first time in all those years that Mao questioned not just his captain’s decision, but his captain’s fitness.

  Perhaps they’d been too long out in the Deep Black. They were briefed before embarking on this mission that long periods out in isolated space had odd impacts on people. They were more likely to shirk their duty so far from Central, to play fast and loose with protocol. That was why Mao clung to it so. However, he had been out in the Black as long as Bayne, yet still felt no desire to break protocol. Maybe it depended more on who the man was before embarking than how long he stayed away.

  “How long until the boring part of the plan is over?” Wilco said.

  “Hopefully long enough for you to sober up,” Sig said.

  “I’m plenty sober. Sober enough that sitting around in this dump holds no appeal to me.” Wilco paced behind the bar. He stopped at the body of the man he’d bludgeoned, squatted, and searched through his pockets.

  “Must you do that?” Mao said.

  Wilco stood and brandished a knife taken from the dead man’s pocket. “I must.” He stuck the knife in his own pocket
, then opened the chamber of his scatterblaster to check his ammo. “Don’t have enough shots to cut through the army between us and the docking bay. Might need to actually cut through them.” He clicked the scatterblaster closed. “Once we get moving, that is.”

  “We stay put until we have someplace to go,” Sigurd said. “That’s the plan. No use running out of here just to stand around and wait. We’ve got targets on our backs.”

  “We’ve got targets on us regardless,” Wilco said. “Sitting here doesn’t change that. Tetch has people looking for us. Won’t be long before they find us. We should keep moving.”

  “You just want to get us out in the open so these filthy pirates can pick us off,” Sig said, his shoulders tense and knuckles turning white as they squeezed the handles of his blasters.

  Wilco matched the security chief’s tension, pulling the scatterblaster close to his chest and squeezing the barrel. “Don’t know if you saw this, but these guys tried to kill me just the same as they did you. I’m not some pirate agent or whatever it is you think I am. I’m liable to get gutted same as you. Not to mention, I think that’s twice I’ve saved all your butts now.”

  Sig took a step toward Wilco. “All I know is, you’re the one who walked us in here and beat that man’s skull in soon as you saw your gig was up.”

  The two squared off, tempers fully flared and guns loaded.

  “That’s enough,” Mao said. “We have our orders. That’s all any of us needs to know presently. Our orders. We follow them.” Mao stepped between them. The tension ebbed a little but did not dissolve.

  “Sure,” Wilco said, stepping back toward the bar. “Orders. Those will definitely keep us alive when the horde comes knocking.”

  Mao did his best to keep his own temper from rising. “You think you know better than the captain?”

  “I think I understand the situation better because I’m the one living it. Tetch owns this entire outpost. They’ll find us before your captain’s plan is in full swing. Subtlety rarely wins the day when facing off against pirates.”

  As if they’d been listening in on their conversation, a commlink on the bludgeoned man’s collar squawked. “Benji, we got trouble. You seen a handful of Navy pricks your way?” A pause. A very pregnant pause. “Benji, you read?” Then nothing.

  Wilco gestured toward the man. “And that’s that. They’re coming here now. We can’t wait.”

  “What choice we got?” Sig said.

  “We could make a distraction of our own.” Wilco smiled, and Mao’s gut twisted further.

  13

  The blue and black blades hung on Bayne’s hips. Sisters. Violent, bloody sisters. He told himself it was strategic. That Tetch, seeing Bayne brandish them, would be thrown off. A Navy captain carrying swords, and not just any swords, but a pair taken off a dead pirate. Hopefully, a pirate well-known enough that Tetch recognized them.

  But that was just what Bayne told himself. There was no strategy in it beyond knowing that he may need to shove the pointy ends through the bodies of several men in order to save his XO. It was no mind game. It was violence. Simple, bloody violence.

  “Shuttle’s prepped and ready, sir,” Patch said. “Can fly whenever you say.”

  “Load up,” Bayne said. “I’ll be ready in five.”

  Patch stepped onto the secondary shuttle, a smaller craft than the one Mao had taken planet-side. This shuttle had space for three, four if they were small enough. Only personnel, no space for cargo. That was why it was only Bayne going down. It would be a tight fit getting them all back.

  “Since the XO isn’t present to voice his opinion,” Delphyne said, “I feel I should do so for him. This is a terrible idea.”

  “Just once, I’d like to do something without a member of my crew telling me how stupid I am for doing it.”

  “Not my intention, sir.”

  “Of course it is,” Bayne said, trying at levity. “And you’re right, but this is the only chance we’ve got at getting our people back. So focus on your part, and I’ll focus on mine.”

  “Yes, sir.” Delphyne saluted the captain and marched off toward the bridge.

  Bayne tightened his belt, felt the blades tap against his thighs. It was a reassuring feeling, like a friendly hand. He stepped onto the shuttle, relishing the flutter in his stomach and suppressing a smile. “Take me down, Patch.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The shuttle’s engines fired as the hangar doors slid open. Bayne gripped the railing mounted on the shuttle roof as the small craft shot of out of the Royal Blue into the open black.

  “Royal Blue, this is Captain Bayne, do you copy?”

  “Comms check, Captain,” Delphyne said from the other end.

  “Keep a ghost channel open,” Bayne ordered. “Through the shuttle and through my personal commlink. I want you listening at all times, Lieutenant.” He said to Patch, “Open a channel to the Ore Town docking bay.”

  The comms squawked as Patch obeyed.

  “Ore Town docking bay, this is Captain Drummond Bayne of the UNS Royal Blue, do you copy?”

  “Copy,” a gruff voice answered. “Administrator Tetch asked that we provide you a welcome worthy of your station. That welcome is waiting.” The communication cut off abruptly.

  Patch shifted in the cockpit. “You reckon they’ll allow us to land, Captain?”

  “I do,” Bayne answered, unsure whether he fully believed himself. “Tetch will want to look me in the eye. May even plan on kidnapping me and ransoming me off to Central.”

  He knew that was a lie, but it provided a sliver of hope for survival. Tetch had no plans to allow Bayne or his crew to survive. They would expose Parallax’s control of Ore Town, and Central would sooner break the planet apart than allow pirates to control a major mining operation like that.

  The shuttle rattled, and a splash of color washed over the windshield as they broke atmosphere.

  “Breaking atmosphere, Royal Blue,” Bayne said. “Fall back to the secondary location.”

  “Aye, sir,” Delphyne said.

  Patch brought the shuttle in the same way he would have if they were landing at Central or the personal docking bay of a foreign dignitary. He was a dependable pilot with steady nerves, and they landed without incident.

  “Welcome to Ore Town, Captain Bayne,” the gruff voice said over comms. “Administrator Tetch is waiting for you on the platform.”

  “Thank you,” Bayne said.

  “Sure about this, Captain?” Patch said.

  Bayne ran his fingers along the handles of both swords. “Yeah. Just be ready to get us out of here.”

  The ramp lowered. Bayne marched out, feeling like a convict on his way to the gallows. Bayne stepped off the ramp onto the platform to find it deserted. Not even a dockhand in sight. But he didn’t move, didn’t panic. He knew the playbook and he knew the sort of man Tetch was.

  A minute later, an entourage of men marched down the platform toward him. Tetch was at the center, his three-piece suit hanging as awkwardly on him as it appeared to earlier, flanked by four armed guards. One of them had a sword strapped to his back. Another wore dual pistols on his hips. The third carried a sawed-off scatterblaster in a holster on the small of his back. The last had a set of vibro-knuckles on each hand. Tetch appeared unarmed.

  “My friend,” Tetch said, his arms wide as if to embrace Bayne. “It is an honor to host a captain of such reputation.” He looked at the swords on Bayne’s hips. “And such intrigue. It is rare to see a UNS captain carrying blades these days.”

  “Do you see a lot of UNS captains around Ore Town?” Bayne asked.

  “More than I would like,” Tetch laughed. “I would prefer the Navy left us entrepreneurs to our business, but such is the way. They just can’t seem to leave us alone.” He planted his feet and shifted his weight from side to side, his fingers twitching near his hips. “But I’m sure you know the feeling.”

  “Can’t say the feeling is unfamiliar.” Bayne rested his hands on the ha
ndles of his swords.

  A thin smile cracked on Tetch’s face. “Anyway, let’s conclude this business so I can get back to mine. What was it you needed? Some help with repairs? As I said, with defenses on the fritz, I’m afraid you can’t land your ship. Not much we can do in the way of repairs without a ship to repair.”

  “I’d settle for a few good hands,” Bayne said. “Maybe three to come aboard and help out. We’d be out of your hair before you know it.”

  Tetch scratched the back of his head and smiled at the ground. “I run a tight operation. Know every hand in town, and I’m afraid I don’t have three that I could spare. I’ve got plans for each and every one of them.”

  Bayne tapped his swords, a rising beat. “Reckon I’ll just need to find a few hands of my own then.”

  Tetch’s posse tensed. Each of their hands moved closer to their weapons. Bayne moved closer to a quick death. Until a voice sounded in his ear.

  “They’ve closed in on Mao’s location, sir.” Delphyne’s voice was tight.

  Bayne smiled to match the cocky smiles of Tetch and Wilco. “I’m sure I could find a few good men at your local tavern. If you could point me in that direction?”

  “Didn’t think officers were allowed to frequent such—” Tetch’s voice was dwarfed by the sudden rush of hot air and noise that followed an explosion from the heart of Ore Town.

  Bayne drew his blaster before the sound of the boom had died off and put a hole in the chest of the man carrying the scatterblaster. Then he rolled to the side as the rest of them turned their attention back to him. He landed behind a stack of metal crates that immediately shook from the wave of oncoming fire.

  “Was that my bar?” Tetch shouted. “I hope that wasn’t my bar.”

  Bayne tried to raise Delphyne on comms, to get a status on Mao, but he couldn’t hear anything over the noise. He told himself that his crew—his friends—were not in that bar when it exploded. He repeated it.