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Nellie and the Nanites - Bk3 - Ch.47
🕑 Added 2024-07-04 08:05:01 +0000 UTCChapter 47
Timing is everything.
“It seems things have not gone your way,” Duke stood in the doorway of the comm room and crossed his arms.
“Ain’t it sad?” Brenda sneered as her fingers played over the fastening latch on her holster.
“In the circumstances, our deal has to be considered null and void.” Duke smiled, and not in a friendly way. “And just when we were starting to form a real friendship.”
“Ain’t it a pity?” Brenda chirped in again, sliding her chair back from the table a little as Maxton moved to stand next to Carter. He appreciated the move, the show of loyalty, but it wasn’t the solution.
Things had taken a turn for the worse, and there was a looming sense of a hefty price to pay at the end of this. One he was desperate not to pay alone.
“I’m glad you understand,” Carter's voice was tinged with a hint of sadness as he tried to maintain a reassuring smile. “But I promise, I’ll do my best for you.”
“Huh?” Brenda looked at her brother.
“Really,” Carter stood, winding his smile up a level as he carefully maintained eye contact, but not for too long. People always get it wrong with eye contact. They either kept their eyes locked on like laser beams to try and appear honest, or they exaggerated looking away occasionally to not appear to be desperate to be believed. “My seniors are unlikely to honor such a one-sided deal; I’m glad to see you understand that.”
“You are reneging on your word?” Duke frowned and exchanged glances with his glowering sister.
“Actually,” Carter offered in a helpful tone, “You just declared it null and void. Now, you can, of course, wait for a Senior Manager or even a Regional Manager to arrive before attempting to strike a new deal, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“They are less understanding than you would expect,” Maxton said as she caught onto his plan and began to relax. “At the moment, all they know is that this colony offered us shelter. It won’t be enough.”
“Not nearly enough,” Carter repeated. “A tough situation for us all.”
“Bullshit,” Brenda laughed, “You are just trying to save your own ass.”
“Of course I am,” Carter admitted. “I just lost three ships of the Imperial Line in under a week. I will be very lucky to avoid an official performance review.”
“A performance review?” Duke laughed.
“An official one,” Maxton said coldly. “People rarely survive them.”
“And most of those who do survive wish they hadn’t,” The thought alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. “Really, my only hope now is to turn things our way in a very short space of time indeed.”
“Our way?” Duke asked.
“Well, we are going to need to work together to survive this,” Carter smiled. “Unless you want to kill us and take your chances alone?”
Maxton let out a snort of laughter.
“So, a new deal?” Duke asked, his stance shifting as he relaxed.
“Yes,” Carter nodded quickly. “It will require significantly more of you, of course, but it comes with an upside.”
“What’s the upside?” Brenda asked suspiciously.
“We get to keep our lives, and you get to keep your colony, maybe even get a few shuttles as well.” Carter thought about how much he could get away with here. Their help was not just needed; it was vital. None of that meant he shouldn’t try and screw them to the wall on the negotiations, naturally.
Duke looked out the door as the lights flicked on across the street. People ran to and fro, still freaked out by the sighting of the destroyer and explosions. Duke looked pensive as he thought for a long time.
Carter held his breath.
“I’m listening,” Duke said at last.
“It is quite simple,” Carter said a couple of hours later. “I will take a small stake in this Colony, nothing big. Say, ten percent?”
“Why?” Brenda asked.
“Because then I was acting to defend an investment. The Imperial Line is very fond of investments. It will, in turn, defend the colony against any threats that come along. First and foremost, the scrapmerchant and her crew.” Carter slugged back the last of his drink.
“It’s a protection racket?” Brenda asked, appalled.
“Basically, yes,” Carter admitted. “But a very legal and official one that includes actual protection.”
“Doesn’t that make it just hired protection?” Duke asked.
“Well, it would be if they wouldn’t kill you if you didn’t pay. Which they will, to be clear.” Carter smiled happily. “I have to say I find this honesty very refreshing.”
“Dickhead,” Brenda snorted.
“He’s been called worse,” Maxton laughed as she stood watch at the door of the comm room.
“So you get ten percent of my colony, and we get to live. That’s it?” Duke asked.
“Not even close,” Carter winked. “That is, as they say, the lube. The next bit is the painful one.”
“Go on,” Duke sighed.
“Should the fleet land troops and find us merely sitting on our asses, we will be killed. Very slowly, over several weeks. It will not be pleasant.” Carter leaned forward to emphasize the point. “We need to be working toward both a goal and profit. I believe we can do both.”
“How?” Duke asked.
“First, we get that ship you were converting finished. Maxton and her people can help with that. Supplies on the shuttle will help,” he looked over at Maxton, who nodded quickly, “Second, we will gather scan data and prepare.”
“For what?” Brenda asked. “And who commands the ship?”
“You are a pirate, so you can captain. It will be vital to have someone aggressive in command,” Carter waved the issue away. “Meanwhile, Duke and his people will need to attack the Clutch… and the other colony.”
“I’m not going to attack our own people,” Duke insisted. “They will rejoin us in time.”
“As long as they can do it in the next week and a half,” Carter nodded. “Otherwise, they will all be killed by the fleet anyway.”
“What?” Duke paled.
“They are allied with the enemy station. They have trading agreements. The fleet will kill them all.” Carter leaned back, hearing the cheap chair creak. “If you want any of them to live, they have to come under our control before the battle in the black finishes.”
“Battle in the black?” Maxton asked.
“I get poetic when I scheme,” Carter shrugged.
“Even if we wanted to,” Duke replied carefully. “They have a squad of heavily armed ex-soldiers in command. It’s not likely we can take them with the troops we have.”
“I have a way to sort them out,” Carter nodded to Maxton, who winked.
“You assume a lot,” Duke cautioned. “They are good.”
“I have cards to play; besides, are they armored and well-armed?” Carter noted a small hangnail and began to file it against the edge of the desk.”
“Not really,” Duke shook his head.
“My people are. A soldier is as good as their gear. Count on it.”
“What about the embassy?” Brenda asked.
“They what?” Carter froze.
“Just beyond the second colony is an embassy with Bea’s people stationed there.” Duke leaned forward conspiratorially, “Combat robotics.”
“Ahh,” Carter sniffed. “Even better.”
“They could have dozens!” Brenda hissed. “We won’t win!”
“You don’t need to. You just need to exchange fire and let the fleet backup do the actual winning.”
“I see a mover,” Maxton warned.
“What?” Duke asked, looking at the people moving around outside.
“You are being watched,” Carter stage whispered. “Nanite surveillance devices.”
“So she knows everything we have said?” Brenda asked as Duke seemed stricken at the news.
“Not in here,” Carter promised. He had Maxton and the others sweep it before they came to set up, and it had remained clear so far.
“How long?” Duke asked suddenly.
“How should I know?” Carter frowned at the man. “Does it matter?”
“At this point, I suppose not.” Duke deflated suddenly, like a stuck balloon. It left him looking smaller and more than a little lost. “I just hope there were some things she did not see.”
Carter left the comm room after another hour of negotiating and planning, Maxton walking companionably beside him. He had left Duke and Brenda with extremely strict instructions to refer to the fleet’s arrival in two weeks, that than the week and a half it would actually take.
No more chances for the intrepid scrapper, surprise, and numbers would overwhelm even her impressive defenses. It was the very reason the quick response fleet existed in the first place.
The attack on the Clutch would be publically discussed, while the attack on the Colony and embassy would remain in that room until the day of, just in case.
“Do you think they know?” Maxton asked as they passed an outdoor restaurant packed with people.
“No,” Carter replied after a moment of contemplation. “Everything I said makes sense to them.”
“No heads for business,” Maxton grinned.
“No,” Carter laughed. “And no understanding of the liability risks of being the majority shareholder.”
“Still, it was a big personal loss,” Maxton sighed. “You owned those ships outright.”
“The fortunes of the market,” Carter shrugged. “It will all work out.”
“You are scheming again?” Maxton bumped his shoulder.
“I’ll claim the station and system as partial insurance payment,” Carter smiled. “The siblings got me thinking about the Sectors.”
“That shithole?” Maxton sneered.
“A shithole that might well contain hidden wealth,” Carter said sternly. “A diamond is often hidden in the dirt; remember that.”
“So are corpses,” Maxton insisted. “Really? The Sectors?”
“A marvelous place to expand a new trade route into.” Carter clapped his hands and rubbed them together just thinking about it.
“You hoping for a promotion?” Maxton’s eyebrows shot up.
“Trust me!” Carter laughed and stood aside while she opened the door to the compound.
“That’s what you said before I signed my first contract!” Maxton growled.
“This again?” Carter laughed.
“Fuck you!” Maxton spat. “Do you have to be such a shit?”
“Have to? No,” Carter laughed even harder as her face darkened with the flush of anger.
===<<<>>>===
“Bastards!” Nellie slammed the datapad against the table, smashing it in the process. It didn’t help.
“They are planning to attack the Clutch in two weeks, the same time their fleet arrives,” Lucy confirmed.
“How sure are we on those timings?” Nellie asked,
“We have both Duke and Carter referring to the same timetable on separate recordings,” Remy was as smartly turned out as always, but he seemed somewhat subdued.
Nellie understood; she could feel it herself. Two weeks was no time at all to prepare for what was about to hit them. Even with the salvaged ships, hell, even with two complete Bly’s Revenge clones, it would be almost impossible to win.
Why the fuck didn’t she ever get enough time?
The stress was getting to everyone, not just Remy.
“Nellie?” Lucy prompted.
“Sorry?” Nellie blushed, realizing she had been ignoring the briefing.
“Remy asked if you had given any thought to evacuation,” Lucy glared across the table at the former spy.
“I have,” Nellie admitted. “But where would we—wait, let’s get everyone tied into this discussion.” She sent out virtual links, connecting comm lines until everyone heard what she was saying. “As I was saying, I did think about us simply evacuating the system. The problem is, where would we go? If we head back to the Sectors, half of us would be killed on sight. The other half would be experimented on. If we run further from the Sectors we still might end up getting caught by the Imperial Line, only this time we would have no defenses. Their fleet is coming, and if we manage to survive it, no one will fuck with us for a while. What does everyone else think?”
Silence.
“Hello?” Nellie prompted.
“I think your logic has improved,” Paren laughed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You want to know what I think?” Salem asked.
“Please,” Nellie nodded.
“I think that I speak for everyone when I say it’s your job to choose. Ours to follow. Ma’am.”
Nellie blinked.
“Well put,” Lucy grinned.
“Okay then,” Nellie swallowed the lump of panic in her throat. “We stay and fight.”
“For the Twin Queens!” Dar called.
“For the Queens!” Everyone called back. “And for the Eternal Spark!”
The comm lines shut, and Remy nodded before hurrying away.
“A fucking throne!” Nellie yelled and picked up another datapad to smash before forcing herself to put it down. “And you knew about this?”
“It seemed to help them,” Lucy said placatingly. “And the others.”
“I can’t have a throne. I’m French! Probably?” Nellie wished she still had a heart and lungs to have a panic attack with. It would be cathartic.
“How does being French factor in?” Lucy asked with a frown.
“We don’t do royalty,” Nellie muttered. “There was a whole thing.”
“Sounds interesting,” Lucy lied, “But are you really French?”
“How should I know?” Nellie sighed. “I speak French and grew up with French nuns in a place that spoke French. Does that count?”
“Probably not,” Lucy chuckled. “
“I really don’t want to be a Queen,” Nellie rubbed her eyes.
“I don’t think they care,” Lucy laughed. “I guess if you didn’t want to be a queen, you shouldn’t have saved everyone.”
“Remind me to stop doing that,” Nellie groaned.
“No,” Lucy replied simply, “Now, I would love nothing more than to stay here and make you feel better about being royal, but I have a lot to do. I have to build us a fleet, remember?”
“You think I’m overreacting?” Nellie asked.
“I think we have bigger issues,” Lucy replied. “Besides, what’s so bad about being a queen?”
“It says that some people are born better than others,” Nellie said. “I don’t like that.”
“Okay, so no royal succession.” Lucy shrugged. “We’ll make it a law.”
“Can we do that?” Nellie asked.
“I think it would be a royal decree,” Lucy laughed, “But yes, we can.”
“So what happens if we get killed?” Nellie asked.
“Battle royal?” Lucy laughed.
“Fine,” Nellie dragged herself up off the bed. “But if anyone blows a trumpet near me, I’ll shoot them.”
===<<<>>>===
Crush motioned with one hand, and Cara moved around to the left. A quick check behind him confirmed that And-Aran and Bil-Tor were already in position.
Slowly, one careful step at a time, Crush approached the drop pod.
It was about the size of a small room, rounded and slightly crumpled at the base. The stabilizing thrusters had fired, and he could see the scorch marks beneath the vents, which indicated a full burn.
The landing thrusters hadn’t.
The smooth, silvered surface was broken only by a single large door. It was reinforced, and the hinges and seals looked intact. The only thing that wasn’t was the small window—more a thick porthole than a window—which had shattered.
Crush pointed to the window, then at the floor beneath it.
There was no glass.
It had either been broken inwards, or it had shattered before it crash-landed.
Stepping to one side, Crush placed a hand against the hatch and pulled gently.
It moved just a fraction.
Crush stepped back quickly, scanning the ground for any sign of bootprints but not seeing anything obvious. He reached one hand up, raised two fingers, and rotated it, telling the squad to keep an eye on all directions, just in case.
For two minutes, none of them moved as they listened for any sound other than the usual. A snap of a twig, a rustle of leaves—anything could indicate the movements of an enemy.
Standing up again, Crush moved back to his position beside the hatch and carefully eased it open, his rifle pointed at the opening and braced against his shoulder.
Nothing moved inside, and not even emergency lights were running. That probably indicated a catastrophic failure, which meant the landing party was probably pasted. Still, he was careful by nature.
Crush whistled, and the entire team closed on his position until they had the door covered from five meters out. It was close enough to ensure they wouldn’t miss even the smallest target but distant enough to ensure they could escape an explosive thrown out the door.
Cara whistled when they were set, and Crush flicked the light on his rifle to full and swung around the hatchway, playing his light across the inside as he moved.
The thrusters had definitely failed, and whoever was in there had been pretty badly hurt. Not that there was anything Crush or anyone else could do for them now.
“Make a note, everyone,” Crush said, relaxing as he stood up, “Keep the floors of the compartments sealed on this moon.”
His eyes ran over the pale green tendrils wrapping the bodies. One of them was already half dissolved.
“Dragon’s balls!” Cara gasped. “It’s everywhere.”
“They were probably dead on impact,” Crush replied.
“Not all of them,” Cara gestured to the right of the door.
A figure was covered in the moss; its legs misshapen even through the dense fibers. One arm extended toward the door; the stump at the end was just short of the bloody handprint.
“He must have tried to crawl out,” Cara said quietly.
“He didn’t make it,” Crush shook his head. “Look for gear.”
They both scanned the walls with their lights.
Empty weapons racks, several open metal cabinets bolted to the walls, and a single charge pack, half wedged in the back, was all they saw.
“Someone beat us to it,” Cara huffed.
“Someone who doesn’t leave footprints?” Crush gestured behind them.
“Guess so,” Cara shrugged.
“Okay, everyone,” Crush called as he backed away. “We made the trip, so we might as well clean up. Bil-Tor, burn that out.”
“Why bother?” Cara asked.
“They were soldiers,” Crush replied. “We can do this much for them.”
“Yes, Boss!” The three replied, everyone watching as the flame unit scoured the inside of the landing pod clear of every trace of the plants.
“A single cracked plate,” Bil said as he stepped away. “I saw a single cracked plate on the floor.”
“Fuuuck, I hate this place,” Cara laughed.
“Yeah, but it’s better than home,” And-Aran grinned.
“Who are you kidding?” Crush asked. “This is home, now.”
“Shit,” Bil-Tor shook his head. “That’s not great, is it?”
“It’s what we’ve got.” Crush said as he took the lead, “So we’ll work with it.”
“Until it eats us,” Cara called morosely.
“Until it eats us,” Crush agreed with a smile. “There’s no place like home.”
