The inner hatch locks cycled one by one with mechanical clicks.
David Carter remained motionless, upside down against the ceiling, his mag boots locked firmly as he watched through the slit of an opening from his concealed position. His pulse remained steady, controlled. This wasn't his first ambush, but considering the odds, it might be his last if he miscalculated.
The pirates had arrived.
Chief Voss stood alone in the corridor, her stance casual but alert. No helmet. No armor. Sidearm holstered at her hip as ordered. David's jaw tightened. She was exposed, vulnerable, and deliberately so. A test of pirate intentions that David already knew would fail.
The inner hatch cycled open with a hiss of equalizing pressure. Four figures emerged in rapid succession, moving with practiced efficiency. The lead pirate wore a heavy assault suit, reinforced at joints and chest, his frame tall and imposing even in full armor. His visor was etched with markings that caught the light as he moved, score lines deliberately left unrepaired. Kill tallies, David realized, the kind of trophy count only a professional would bother maintaining. The others fanned out behind him, weapons slung but hands positioned for quick access, covering angles without verbal commands.
Not undisciplined raiders. Professionals.
The lead pirate stepped forward, his movements controlled and unhurried. No shouting. No grandstanding. Just the calm certainty of someone who'd done this many times before.
"You in charge?" His voice carried through the corridor, amplified slightly by his suit's external speakers, calm and measured with an accent David couldn't quite place.
"Security Chief Mara Voss, Solano Navy." Her voice remained steady, her tall frame standing rigid, eyes forward without flinching. "You are boarding a military vessel without authorization."
The pirate nodded slightly. "They call me the Ripper. Perhaps you've heard the name."
David felt his blood chill, a cold certainty settling in his gut. The Ripper. A name whispered in frontier traffic reports, passed between security teams with grim warnings. Known for merciless boarding actions, for climbing through ships deck by deck, dismembering all who resisted. The name was meant to precede him, to break resistance before it formed. David had once seen a video of the aftermath on a corporate hauler. The memory still made him ill to think about it.
"I congratulate you on your performance against our missiles," the Ripper continued conversationally. "Not many ships survive such an exchange. And allowing the convoy to escape—" he paused, a slight tilt of his head suggesting amusement, "a mistake we'll correct at a later date."
Chief Voss didn't respond to the implicit threat. "State your terms."
"Simple enough. All weapons surrendered. Engineering access granted immediately. Bridge crew remains at stations, cooperative and locked down." He gestured casually with one hand. "Minimal casualties that way."
She squared her shoulders. "This is a Solano Navy vessel. The crew is under my protection. I require proof your captain will honor surrender terms."
Behind his visor, the Ripper smiled. David could see it in the subtle shift of his posture, the slight forward lean.
"I don't give proof," the pirate said softly. "I give lessons."
"Then we have nothing to discuss." Chief Voss's voice hardened. "No surrender. No access. No intimidation. What you're attempting is piracy and a war crime. The Solano Navy will hunt you for this."
The Ripper tilted his head, considering her. "They always say that." His tone remained conversational, almost friendly. "But you have not launched a message drone, and the freighters fled. You should give up now."
He gestured slightly with one hand. Two of his men shifted positions, spreading wider. David tensed, recognizing the movement to provide more lines of fire. Voss saw it too; her hand drifted closer to her holstered weapon.
"Commander Morris speaks for this vessel," she said firmly. "He is the one who will negotiate with you, not me."
"And yet here you stand. But you are mistaken, this is not a negotiation." The Ripper made another gesture, this time tapping his wrist computer. "I believe a demonstration is in order."
He nodded to one of his men, who activated something on his helmet. A body cam, David realized. This was meant to be recorded. To be seen.
"Last chance, Chief Voss," the Ripper said quietly. "Surrender the ship."
Voss's hand moved toward her weapon. "Go burn yourself."
Without warning or further exchange, two pirates fired simultaneously. One projectile round, one laser burst. Both struck Voss in the head and chest. The impact snapped her head back violently, breaking the magnetic lock of her boots. Her body drifted backward in the zero-g environment, a slow cloud of blood dispersing around her, crimson spheres catching the emergency lighting like tiny, obscene planets.
David's fingers tightened on his weapon, his gloves creaking on the polymer grip with the pressure. The execution had been drilled for certainty, not speed. They had known exactly how this would end before the conversation started. This was theater, not negotiation. A message written in Voss's blood. He had warned her, and she had gone anyway, accepting her fate. Another name to add to the list of people he had failed to protect despite knowing better, despite seeing the danger coming. The weight of it settled in his chest like cold iron.
The Ripper stepped forward, unmoved by the floating corpse or the expanding blood droplets. He activated his wrist computer, transferring the body cam footage.
"Forward boarding party successfully on board," the pirate leader reported back to his captain on the Hai Feng. "First resistance neutralized. Proceeding to Bridge access as planned."
There was a brief pause before the reply came. "Hold position. I want a few minutes."
The voice belonged to Shen Zhaolong himself. The Red Talon was following and likely ordered the execution from his ship.
David slowly leaned back away from the hatchway, his mind racing through options. Voss was dead. The pirates had shown their true intentions. There would be no surrender, no negotiation, no mercy. Only resistance remained.
He keyed his comm, his subvocal announcement not even a whisper. "All security personnel. Weapons free. I repeat, weapons free. They just executed the chief."
David kept out of sight at his observation point, mind racing through tactical scenarios. He'd expected this outcome, but seeing Chief Voss executed still hit hard. She'd known it was coming, too. Her last words echoed in his head: Go burn yourself.
His comm chirped with an incoming private channel. Ensign Reyes's voice came through, tight with shock.
"They just transmitted the execution video to the bridge. We all saw it."
"I know," his subvocal response came out tight and clipped.
David could hear the bridge crew's reactions in the background. Hale swore softly. Gasps from Technicians Reyes and Okafor. Then Commander Morris's voice, barely audible, "That didn't have to happen..."
David said nothing more. The CO still didn't understand. This was always going to happen. The only variable was how many would die before it ended. These pirates weren't paper-skinned button pushers. They were hull-tight killers and experienced.
He shifted position, leaning towards the opening and into a better firing angle. Through the hatchway of the deck, he watched the Ripper tilt his head slightly, hand moving to his helmet. Receiving new orders.
David's tactical net pinged with an incoming report from Specialist Vale.
"Pirates breaching aft docking port." Her voice was tight but controlled. "At least five hostiles in sight, mixture of laser and projectile weapons. We are in position with the XO and damage control teams... Engaging now."
The channel filled with the unmistakable whine crack of PAPs firing in confined spaces, followed by shouts and the metallic ping of rounds hitting bulkheads. Through his comms, David heard someone gasping in pain, the scrape of metal from mag boots scrambling for purchase, and shouts of anger. Vale's voice came through again, clipped and professional despite the chaos.
"Two down," she reported, breathing hard. "Rickerson covering the vertical access. XO coordinating. These bastards know what they are doing."
"Burning right, they know what they're doing," Ops Tech Rickerson's voice cut in, tense but controlled. "No scrap, these aren't amateurs."
LCDR Vaughn's voice cut through the background noise, surprisingly steady. "Damage control, weld that hatch shut! Security, fall back to junction three and set up crossfire. Don't let them reach the reactor control."
David provided a subvocal acknowledgement, "Copy. Hang tight." The XO was holding his own. Good. One less thing to worry about.
Above, the Ripper gestured sharply to his team. They began spreading out methodically, securing the deck. Two pirates moved toward the elevator, attempting to activate it. Nothing happened. As expected, the bridge had locked it out to be inoperable. The pirate leader snarled to one of his men, "Try that computer panel over there and get us system access."
The pirate leader pointed upward. Two pirates immediately broke off, moving toward the ladder well leading to the bridge. Fast, disciplined advance.
David raised his P-5M, sighted on the trailing pirate, and fired a three-round burst. The pirate jerked backward with his mag boots disconnected from the deck, his suit turning red with the punctures, and drifting into the wall.
Immediately, the remaining pirates spun toward his position, weapons tracking. David didn't wait. He pushed off hard, diving through the hatch he'd prepared behind him, dropping down to the next deck below. With only half the emergency lights glowing red, the area was dimly lit with plenty of shadowy areas to hide.
Security Specialist Winkle was waiting, pressed against a bulkhead junction. "Now that you stirred them up, how many are you bringing to the party?"
"Two coming down after me," David said, letting his retractable chest sling take care of his P-5M, and he pulled the stun stick from his belt. "Get your stunner ready."
Winkle nodded, shifting his grip on his stun stick. "Just like training, right?"
"Except they shoot back."
They heard the magnetic clunk of boots above them, each step deliberate and searching. David signaled Winkle to take position on the opposite side, pointing first to his eyes then to the ladder. The junior specialist nodded once, his face grim but focused. The first pirate descended cautiously, weapon sweeping the corridor, the laser sight cutting through the dim emergency lighting.
David waited until the second pirate was halfway down, then nodded to Winkle. His pulse remained steady, his breathing controlled. The moment stretched, time slowing as it always did before violence.
They moved simultaneously. David grabbed the first pirate from behind, jamming his stun stick against the suit's neck seal where the armor was thinnest, the device's 20kHz sonic pulse set to maximum penetration.
The pirate convulsed as sonic waves penetrated his nervous system, disrupting motor control pathways, a strangled gasp escaping through his helmet speakers. Winkle took the second with a similar move, the pirate's weapon discharging harmlessly into the ceiling before his body went limp, drifting slightly in the zero g, his mag boots deactivating as consciousness failed.
"Bind them," David ordered, already pulling plastic ties from a pouch of his tactical webbing. "Fast."
"Should we leave a note on these scrapheads?" the junior specialist muttered, tying up his unconscious target's ankles and wrists. "Thanks for crashing our party, glad you had a shockingly good time."
"Just make sure it's tight, and he cannot get free," David said, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
They secured the unconscious pirates efficiently, stripping them of weapons and comm equipment. David dragged one into an empty stateroom while Winkle handled the other.
"What now?" Winkle asked, breathing hard but steady.
The tactical net crackled with new information. Security Specialist Navarro's voice came through, punctuated by the distinctive crack of PAP fire.
"Carter, hostiles advancing toward bridge. Kade and I engaging from Deck Two Portside Ladderway. It's burning hot here. Need support."
David could hear the firefight through the comm and echoing through the ship's structure. The pirates were making their push. He replied, "Copy, hang on."
"Always wanted to be popular, but I wish it was under better circumstances," he muttered aloud, gesturing for Winkle to follow as he pointed to a maintenance shaft access panel. "Come on, we flank them. Three decks up, we can hit them from behind."
Winkle nodded, prying open the panel. "At least we're getting our cardio in today."
The narrow shaft was barely wide enough for a suited man, but it would get them where they needed to be. They climbed in silence, floating upward as their gloves tapped softly on the metal rungs. The shaft smelled of heated electronics and coolant leaks.
David led, moving as quickly as stealth allowed. Sweat beaded inside his suit, unable to evaporate in the sealed environment, trickling down his spine in cold rivulets. Every sound they made seemed magnified in the narrow space. At the third deck, he paused, listening. The sounds of combat were closer now, the air vibrating with each impact against the hull.
He eased the access panel open, just enough to see into the corridor through the narrow finger's width gap. Three pirates had taken position below a hatch and ladder, firing wildly up toward Specialist Navarro's and Ops Tech Kade's position in response to the defenders' suppressive fire. The PAP P-3Bs' distinctive whining crack caused sub-sonic rounds to ping off the bulkheads where the pirates took cover, and their attention was fixed forward, helmet sensors oriented away from the maintenance shaft.
David signaled to Winkle, then pushed the panel fully open. They took positions simultaneously on each side of the opening using the combing as cover, weapons raised, while they braced themselves with the mag boots on the opposite wall of the shaft to handle the recoil.
"Now," David whispered.
They fired in coordination, catching the pirates in perfect crossfire. Two went down immediately. The third managed to turn, returning fire wildly before David's next burst found the gap between chest plate and shoulder.
"Bridge, this is Carter. We have cleared the Portside ladderway on Deck Three. How many hostiles still advancing?"
"At least ten," Ensign Reyes replied, her voice steadier now but tight with controlled fear. "They are forming on Deck Four and Three. I can see them on the internal cameras." Her voice dropped lower. "Carter, I… I think you might be correct. Morris still thinks we can negotiate after what they did to Voss."
As if on cue, a barrage of suppressive fire erupted from around the corner leading to the ladderway upwards. The pirates had adapted quickly. Flash grenades tumbled into the corridor, detonating in blinding bursts, nearly overwhelming even the auto-dimming features of their visors.
"Fall back, for burn's sake!" David shouted to Winkle, already moving back down the maintenance shaft, his hand finding the emergency ladder rungs by touch alone as a kaleidoscope of colors dances through his vision. "We'll be in deep scrap up there!"
The pirates were executing a coordinated assault now, some laying down covering fire while others bounded forward in tactical advances.
David and Winkle barely made it back out of the shaft before the first pirates appeared above them, firing downward. Rounds impacted around the opening as David pushed the panel shut behind them.
"They're going to storm the bridge," Specialist Winkle said, breathing hard. "We can't stop them from here."
David nodded grimly. "Then we will just have to burn their plans another way."
The tactical net crackled as the CO's voice cut into the channel.
"Navarro, fall back to the bridge immediately. That's an order."
David heard the quick, shallow breathing of Navarro over the comm as the young security specialist acknowledged. "Moving now, sir."
Gunfire intensified, the distinctive crack of PAPs echoing through the corridors. David recognized the sound of covering fire, then a strangled cry.
"Kade's hit!" Specialist Navarro shouted. "He's covering me."
More shots. A final burst of return fire. Then silence.
"Security Specialist Navarro reporting to the bridge, sir." His voice was flat, controlled. "Technician Kade didn't make it."
David closed his eyes briefly. Another casualty. The price kept climbing.
Commander Morris's voice returned, firm and certain. "Seal all bridge access points, lock down the armored hatch covers. Take the spinal elevator offline. This compartment is rated for combat isolation. They can't get through without heavy equipment."
David tapped his comm, switching to a private channel with Ensign Reyes. "Ensign, be advised that the pirates brought a tech specialist. I heard them trying to hack into ship systems."
"I see the intrusion attempts," she replied, her voice low and focused. "Technician Okafor and I are blocking them for now. They're good, but we've got the command override."
"Can you hold?"
"Yes. For a while at least." She paused, and he heard her take a steadying breath. "How long before they breach armor?" Her voice had changed, not asking for reassurance but for tactical assessment. The hesitant ensign was falling away, replaced by something harder.
David thought about the equipment he spotted being carried by the pirates. "Without industrial cutting equipment, they will need hours. I did not see any heavy-duty laser torches or plasma cutters. Just standard gear that could maybe bust through a typical door. If they do not gain access to the tools from our damage control teams, they will have a hard time breaching the armored hatches."
The channel switched as Commander Morris broke into their conversation. "Ensign Reyes, lock down all hatches on Decks 2 to 16. Seal the compartments. We'll cut life support to isolated sections and force them to retreat."
David bit back a sharp response. The captain still didn't understand what they were dealing with. He switched to the shared channel.
"Sir, that won't work. They're all in sealed suits, and half the environmental controls are damaged anyway. Life support can't be selectively shut down. And their hacker will eventually override the hatch lockouts."
Silence stretched for several seconds. When Morris spoke again, his voice carried a cold edge.
"This situation has escalated because of your insubordination, Carter. If you had followed orders from the beginning, we could have negotiated terms."
The accusation hung in the air.
No one responded.
Not Ensign Reyes.
Not Specialist Navarro.
Not Specialist Winkle.
The silence itself was an answer, the final collapse of Morris's authority more complete than any argument could have made it. David had been here before, standing in the wreckage of command decisions that got people killed. The familiar bitterness rose in his throat. He could walk away when his contract was over, if they survived. Many of the crew could not. Their careers, their lives, were tied to this ship and the Solano Navy in ways his never would be. That made the risk he was taking with their lives all the heavier.
David switched back to the tactical net. "Winkle, we need to change position. Head down to the deck where they came in. I want you to delay any pirates trying to return to their shuttle or move downward."
"What are you thinking?" the junior security specialist asked.
"They're focused on the bridge for now. I don't expect them to push down, but if they do, slow them down and harry them. Seal hatches behind you if you need to retreat. Don't get killed. If you burning do, I'll have Vale resurrect you to kill you again myself."
"Copy that. Where are you going?"
"Down to reinforce the XO. Vale and Rickerson are still holding near Engineering, but they need support."
David moved cautiously through the corridor, passing the hatch below where Voss had been killed. Her body still floated in the zero g, a cloud of frozen blood droplets surrounding her head like a macabre halo. He paused, pulling her down to his deck and off to the side, and let her mag boots lock her body in place. He closed her eyes. The gesture felt insufficient, almost meaningless in the moment, but it was the best he could do for now. They had served together for only a few months, but she had been good. Professional. She deserved better than floating there like debris.
He took her weapons, a compact laser rifle and her PAP, checking they were still functional. He secured them to his combat harness and continued downward.
David floated through maintenance shafts, avoiding the main corridors where pirates might have established kill zones if they were maneuvering around the defending crew holding out near DC Central. The tactical net provided sporadic updates, painting a picture of scattered resistance throughout the aft section of the ship.
"Carter, it's Vale. We've repelled the initial boarding at DC Central. XO has damage control sealing hatches with plasma welders. Three pirates down, but they're regrouping with at least eight more."
"Status on the reactor core access?" David asked, pushing himself down another ladder well. If the pirates gained control of the main reactor powering the ship, they could bypass the command overrides and shut off life support.
"XO's got a tech working on sealing that access hatch, but they can find ways around it."
"Understood. I'm on my way down."
David paused at a junction, checking the stenciled marking inside the maintenance shaft. From what he recalled from the ship schematics, he was two decks above the Damage Control deck. He could hear sporadic gunfire below, punctuated by the distinctive sound of a stun grenade detonating.
The war for the Cutlass had begun in earnest, and David knew it would be decided deck by deck, compartment by compartment. No quarter given. No surrender possible. He had made that choice for all of them when he refused to stand down. If they won, there would be investigations, recriminations, and possible court martial. If they lost, they died. The responsibility pressed down on him like acceleration, but hesitation now would kill them all.
He checked his weapon and moved forward.
One problem at a time.