Privateer's Commission -ch 11- (Patreon)

Shifting his boots around against the hull, Ralph made sure that the magnetic soles were working. They actively clanked into place and came off with an expected amount of strength.

Nodding his head he turned on the small light that was attached to the helmet.

He wouldn’t be able to see anything of course as the vast majority of ships were painted in colors that absorbed light and reflected nothing.

What he did need to see, was his explosives he was working with.

Looking back to the ramp exit, he then looked ahead.

Based on his instructions, he should have landed only ten feet or so from the point that most Confed constructed ships would keep their atmosphere, which also could double as propellant for maneuvering thrusters as needed.

Snorting at the thought, Ralph was fairly certain of what was about to happen and he figured it’d be his best chance to carry out his plan.

Moving to the point he expected, he began unpacking the explosives from his fanny pack.

It was an odd material similar to modeling clay. He didn’t know the technical name for it as it was some string of numbers and letters with a Confed designation, but he did know the colloquial name for it.

Pirate’s Payload,” mumbled Ralph to himself. Then he laughed under his breath. One of Marionette’s fanfiction’s had been named that.

It’d been quite filled with smut.

Stuffing the substance into place he stuck the detonator in it. He made sure that it was perfectly up and down as the top would dictate the “safe” direction, then pulled it just slightly towards where the Siren was.

He wanted all of this going downward and into the ship and away from the Siren.

“Hm. I wonder if I used too much. Probably. Little nervous,” he wondered to himself as he shuffled away a short distance. “Trying to keep my Lady. Though… damn… I’m really attached to her already. That’s kind of a problem, isn’t it?”

Ralph stuck himself up to the landing strut’s magnetic foot and wrapped his arms around it, while planting his feet on the landing strut’s magnetic foot as well.

If the Siren was knocked free of the enemy ship, he didn’t want to be left behind.

“Okay… well… for the Lady,” said Ralph in the catchphrase he’d often seen and heard in the shows and stories Marionette enjoyed.

Then he depressed the remote trigger on the detonator.

There was a mighty rumble that went through the landing strut as the explosives tore into the ship. A spray of fragments from the interior and hull shot out of the hole.

A millisecond later there was a massive rush of what was most likely oxygen and hydrogen. Escaping into the void and ejecting anything and everything it could take with it.

The size of the hole had been significant to begin with, now it was quite literally tent foot by eight foot wide. Ragged edges of the hull wobbling about as pressurized gasses tore past.

Even as all that happened, the ship, and the Siren since it was attached, spun wildly. Shooting end over end and making Ralph want to live up to his namesake and fill up his helmet with his last meal.

As expected though, the ship began to rapidly fire thrusters against the current unexpected propulsion. Attempting to bring itself to a zero momentum state.

Whatever program, AI, or VI was onboard the ship was doing a fantastic job, Ralph noted. It’d only been a few seconds and already it had somehow stopped the spin in one axis.

He could tell due to the movement of stars.

Instead of crazily spinning in every which way, they were moving in lines now.

Faster than he could have ever hoped the Siren to manage in a similar situation, the ship was brought to zero.

There was no momentum in any direction.

Likely because there didn’t seem to be any more gas escaping from the ship.

“Well, here we go,” Ralph grumbled and unwound himself from the strut.

He did a quick check of himself, and looked to the small electronic display on the left wrist, to confirm everything was fine.

This suit wouldn’t last for more than an hour or two with the air it held but that would be more than enough.

Drawing two laser pistols from the brace Ralph marched over to the hole.

He needed to be very wary of overheating now that the ship was likely subjected to space.

The same materials that got it through security without being detected, made them terrible for use in space. They overheated fairly quickly and would explode on occasion.

Peering into the massive hole that’d been made, Ralph saw someone inside.

Staring up at him.

Lifting his pistol, Ralph wasted no time and fired. Then fired again.

The two laser shots struck the person in the chest but didn’t exit the back.

Which only prompted Ralph to put two more rounds into the person. Until a beam punched out the back, it was always a question mark if you’d really made penetration through organs.

Unfortunately, they also didn’t go through.

Except the person he’d shot had collapsed to the ground. The gravity in the ship pulling them down to the deckplate and keeping them there.

Well, vacuum of space, but gravity is working. That’s good.

Glancing at the barrel Ralph saw it was glowing faintly. The cell was still mostly charged.

Stuffing the weapon back into the brace he drew the next one.

If he gave it a little time, he might be able to reuse it.

Leaning down he looked into the interior of the compartment. There wasn’t anyone else inside other than the dying or dead person he’d personally killed.

Stuffing both lasers back into their positions he mentally pushed ahead.

He took a single step off the hull and stuck his foot into the interior.

Ralph immediately felt gravity pull at him. He pulled his leg back and then slowly let himself float out over the hole. Holding onto the edge with his hands.

Then, far nimbly than he thought he could do it, he pulled himself into the compartment, flipped, and his boots struck the deckplate.

No sooner than he had vision on the hall in front of him, then he saw two people staring back at him. One even had a pistol in hand.

Ralph yanked a pistol out with all the speed he could muster, turned sideways, and fired. At the same time, the enemy fired back at him as the second flattened themselves to the wall.

Shit!

The thought was a mental squeak as the laser shot zipped past his face.

Ralph’s return shot hit them square in the throat.

Adjusting, he lowered the muzzle down and fired several times. Putting multiple blasts into the soldier.

As that was most certainly what they were based on the space suit uniform they were wearing. Apparently they were all mostly suited and ready for space.

Marines, I guess.

Fuck.

Ralph fired twice more into the soldier and they slowly fell to the ground. Swiveling the laser around to the next person Ralph fired twice while they stood there, staring at him, pressed to the wall.

Two shots into the side and they crumpled to the ground.

Not being kind or generous, Ralph walked up to the two downed people and put another round each into their throats. It’d be more than enough to give them problems.

There was a futzing spark from the laser a second before a wire caught fire.

Grimacing, Ralph threw the pistol behind himself. Trying to use it beyond this was pointless.

Getting that many shots out of a laser pistol like this in a row was asking a bit much given what it was.

Another pistol came out of the brace and Ralph moved forward. His goal was the bridge, or the CIC.

That or the missile bay.

Either location would do what he wanted.

Which was to turn this whole ship inside out and let the Siren slip away.

Marching down the hall Ralph stopped at the first intersection he came to. Looking down each of the three possibilities he considered them all.

There was also the fact that there were at least two floors to this.

He had no idea which way to go, in truth.

While the AI had known where to put him for the pressurized tanks due to data it had, Ralph was not the AI.

Nor did he have an AI providing him instructions.

Smirking at the ludicrous idea, Ralph shrugged and took the forward moving intersection. Forward toward the center of the ship was often the best place to find a warships CIC.

Hardened, layered with multiple defenses, and often with hit’s own atmospheric controls and safety. One couldn’t just waltz onto a ship and expect to break in with ease.

I’ve got just enough explosive compound to take out the door if I use all of it, but that’s probably about it.

Maybe.

The door and the structure might actually be too strong.

Coming to a fulls top, Ralph realized the CIC really wasn’t the best idea.

There was a pounding sensation being sent through the floor and into his boots. One that he attributed to someone running.

Running with magnetic boots on.

Moving back to the intersection Ralph peeked down each while hiding against one wall. It wouldn’t help him at all if they were coming or going from the corridor he was in, but it’d be great for the other two.

Fifty-fifty were acceptable odds to Ralph.

Standing there, feeling the vibrations through his feet, Ralph was trying to gauge when this poor fool would cross paths with him. There was no other possibility then him being somewhere connected to where he stood, and coming closer.

The pounding of those boots were growing in intensity.

They probably have no idea since there is no sound in space.

No sounds and nothing to hear after all.

So they’re probably—

Ralph’s thoughts disconnected a man with a pistol ran into the intersection, turned, and slammed into Ralph. All before either man could respond to finding the other.

The two men bounced away from one another.

Ralph slammed into the wall and staggered sideways while the soldier slid past him, hit the wall, and spun.

Unfortunately, Ralph had dropped his pistol in the impact while the soldier kept hold of his.

Not bothering to go for another pistol Ralph instead drew his sword. With the same motion he lunged forward toward his new enemy.

They got a round off before the sword sunk into their chest. The tip slamming into them and stopping when it felt like it struck the spine.

Jerked downard, the sword nearly came out of his hand as the man fell to his knees. Both hands grasping the sword that was stuck in them.

Ralph however, was holding his breath. The round had struck him low. As if the man had been aiming for Ralph’s pelvic bowl.

It’d hit his upper thigh and blood was bubbling up through the hole and ejecting itself into the corridor.

Putting his left hand to the hole Ralph looked at the man in front of him, drew a pistol, and put a round through his chest. Where his heart should be.

He went limp and collapsed to the ground.

Stowing the pistol Ralph put a hand to the man’s chest and yanked his sword free.

Allowing himself a single breath before holding it again, all while keeping a firm hand to his leg, Ralph thought quickly.

Lifting his sword up he slashed at the soldier’s arm. He knocked off the lower part at the elbow, then cut at the shoulder with several heavy blows.

It came free with a thud and hit the ground.

Ralph dropped his sword, stole another breath, and grabbed the tube of material that was around the hacked off arm.

This was his goal.

The suits were made of a material tended to have some give to it to accommodate various sized people. It wasn’t as if they could make uniquely sized suits for every soldier, after all.

Pushing out the man’s severed limb Ralph lifted a booted foot and slipped it through the tube. Pulling his hand off from where he’d been applying pressure he grabbed the tube with both gloved hands and then began pulling it up.

The pain that radiated out of his leg had been growing in intensity rapidly. His numbness to the pain was wearing off, which he wrote off to shock, and his body was now telling him about the injury.

After struggling for about ten seconds he managed to get it fit to his thigh.

It was tight.

Painfully so, but he could feel his leg.

No blood seemed to be bubbling up, either and it didn’t feel like his foot was wet.

But he wasn’t sure.

Time was no longer on his side and realistically, the CIC was now his best shot.

The soldier he’d just killed had probably been on the way there, too.

Gritting his teeth, Ralph picked up his sword, sheathed it, and began hobbling down the corridor once more.

Pulling a pistol with each hand he kept limping his way forward.

Ahead of him several people popped out of a doorway.

Lifting his pistols, Ralph began firing rapidly. Most of his shots landed on bodies though a few did whiz past them.

Once again he was thankful for the void of space. There was no sound.

It wasn’t until he’d dropped one that they figured out where he was firing from. One of them manged to lift a pistol, and Ralph focused on them.

Pulling both muzzles to bear he fired repeatedly.

The laser on the left detonated itself and the right started to deform at the point where the cell shunted power into the barrel.

Ralph threw both of them forward and drew two more.

Running out pretty fast, Ralph. This isn’t like boarding those merch vessels just to take their stuff. I think there’s three fresh left and one of those is half heated?

Firing on the last standing soldier Ralph fired twice into them and when they dropped he walked over to them.

As they squirmed around on the ground, oxygen bleeding out of the holes along with blood, Ralph holstered the pistol.

Thankfully, he couldn’t hear anything they might be saying.

The silence of space had no mercy

Drawing the sword, Ralph stabbed them in the chest. Trying to make sure he hit the heart and ending them quickly.

A rush of blood spurt out of the hole and splattered the opposite wall. Spreading out rapidly in a horrific way.

Ralph shook his sword out once then sheathed it. Regardless of how much blood came off the blade, he’d still have to clean out the scabbard.

Taking up the pistol again he moved forward.

Every step was a spasm of pain tearing through his leg as well as a harsh breath.

“Fucking-hell-damned-overly-pretty-fucking-Marionette!” hissed Ralph has he hobbled his way along.

She really was the only reason he was doing this and he didn’t quite understand it himself. Other than to blame his empathy with her situation and how it reminded him of his own.

Stopping at a door, Ralph hesitated in front of it. It looked to be pressure sealed and was locked in place.

That meant survivors.

“Gonna be some throat slitting today I guess,” he murmured to himself. “Let’s just hope I can blow the whole ship up. Make it impossible for them to survive this. No survivors, no fines to pay.”

He’d lost his morality a long time previous.

In a situation where you were dealing with the military, survivors only became problems. An issue to deal with in the future you couldn’t escape.

Survivors among civilian ships was an entirely different situation and not much of a problem.

Ralph tried the door just to see if he could break the seal and save himself some time in the future.

It didn’t budge.

Leaving the door Ralph turned and took the corridor a bit further.

Unfortunately, it was at the end and it didn’t go anywhere else, other than a single doorway.

That door wasn’t big enough, or heavy enough, for it to be the CIC entry.

Shuffling to the door, Ralph gave it a try anyways.

It opened easily without an issue, gliding into the wall.

Several soldiers stood there in suits and all of them were looking toward Ralph.

Lifting his pistols up he fired several shots into the two on the outside, dropping them where they stood.

The pistol on the left caught fire and Ralph just let go of it. Leveling the right pistol he fired it twice more and seemed to hit something vital in the last soldier.

Blood shot in a strange pressurized way out of the hole he’d made and they clutched their chest. Then fell to their hands and knees and tried to crawl away.

Only to collapse and lay still on the ground.

Grimacing, Ralph looked at the pistol. There was a hint of what looked like overheating. He lift it up to his face and stared at it up close.

The power-cell was splitting apart and growing large.

“Fuck, the cell’s bust,” he growled and tossed the pistol to the side.

He had only one left and it wasn’t at it’s best.

“This is what they’re made for though. Throways,” cursed Ralph as he hobbled into the room.

No sooner than he had, he realized where he was.

The engine room.

Smirking, he nodded his head.

This would do nicely for where to put the rest of his explosives.

Ralph didn’t understand how the engines and motors used in space truly worked. It was beyond him and he had never really tried to look into it.

The Confed generally encouraged people to not dig into how the engines worked. Even the Blood agreed with them in that regard and tried to keep people from poking around with them too much.

It wasn’t outlawed by any means and there was engineers and mechanics who understood it. Could keep them running and developed new ways for them to function.

Ralph wasn’t one.

What little he did know, was the fuel used to make the engines go brrrrr was incredibly volatile.

Incredibly so.

Grinning Ralph opened his fanny pack and hobbled over to the side of the room.

All fuel was kept in cannisters and locked behind an armory.

Looking at the hatch he saw that it wasn’t in a locked position.

Reaching out, the thumped the button that’d open it.

It slid open without resistance or a hitch.

Inside was exactly what he was expecting. A large number of fuel cannisters for military grade engines. Something he’d never seen but knew immediately what they were.

Reaching out he grabbed one and pulled it down. Then wedge it sideways in the way of the hatch so it wouldn’t be able to close.

Pulling the explosives out he began to press it into place on top of the back of the canister. Where it sat within the structure rather than outside of it.

Nodding his head, Ralph stuck in the detonator and angled it appropriately.

Walking over to what the three soldiers had been working on, he saw it was a display.

A small portable terminal laid out on top of some type of machinery.

A terminal with a keyboard attached to it.

There was a series of back and forth communications between this trio and likely the command center.

After reading it over, there were only three points of interest.

No other decks were reporting in, communications were down, and there wasn’t enough fuel to get the ship moving or even power the generator.

Raising his eyebrows, Ralph hesitated, then began to type in a message.

“I’m a Privateer. I have a Lady. So… let’s be a true pirate,” he murmured as he tapped away at the keyboard. “After all, this ship and it’s crew are illegally in Blood territory. That makes them fair game.”

Ralph paused, snickered, and kept typing.

“Doubly so since I’m technically a citizen of the Blood of Calesat. Mmm, this’ll be interesting,” he murmured to himself.