Little Brother - (Dione-Rolf: Circa 495)
Rhove was no pirate. Not in his own eyes, anyway. Pirates attacked ships outright and plundered what obviously belonged to others. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty and, well… mean. Rhove was not mean. No, Rhove didn’t go looking for trouble; he just didn’t pass up opportunities as he came across them. These were not manned ships. These were asteroids littered with various machines or old excavation rigs. Sure they belonged to someone in the past but they seemed abandoned, now. He sat watching them for a long time, days sometimes, to see if there was any activity or other ships around that might lay claim to them. If someone did drop by, then he would concede that someone was still using them and would leave. Usually. If no one came along, he would move in and take the things that were not ‘bolted down’ per se. If they were bolted down or locked, he would leave them behind for whoever left them there. Usually. But he was no pirate. He considered himself a scavenger at worst; a good Samaritan at best, cleaning the solar system of abandoned debris. Hell, the solar system could use a little cleaning up, he often told himself. It was part of his own personal pep talk that he gave himself just before doing something that the rest of the solar system labeled ‘piracy’. He did this to alleviate his guilt and it worked well enough for him.
“Chaunce, we’re going in now,” Rhove said over his shoulder.
Chaunce nodded, grinned a crooked grin, and secured his pressure helmet. Finally, he thought. Chaunce was a pirate and he didn’t seem to care who knew it. There was loot out here waiting to be taken and if the owners didn’t want to lose it, well, they shouldn’t have left it out here in the open. He had no reservations about cutting open locks, hacking through hinges or unbolting fittings. There was stuff out here and he wanted it.
Their skiff was a small three-man craft though the scruffy pair had tweaked and modified the thing enough that they could fly it with just the two of them. It looked like what ancient arrowheads looked like though the world from which these two ruffians came from never really had arrowheads. The design made it look menacing as was its purpose since the inherent aerodynamics meant nothing in space. They had painted it a flat black to camouflage it from curious and unwanted visitors and it worked well; those who they couldn’t intimidate (which were many), they could at least try to hide from. The engines had been highly modified from the stock military install and could outrun just about anything. For one, they had gutted any unnecessary equipment which gave it far less mass to push so they could out-accelerate larger ships; the engine modifications they had done made them faster than ships their own size, and the newly increased fuel capacity meant that if they survived an attack from the smaller, faster fighters, they could outrange them.
Rhove kept the mineshaft in view as he rounded the mountain sized asteroid and came to a gliding stop above the excavation rig. The rig sat motionless against the ancient rock face and through the lattice framework of its construction, the light from the faraway sun cast spider web-like shadows on the terrain. Chaunce, with his tether attached, descended onto it like a spider claiming another spider’s web. He climbed down the web-work lattice and made his way to the storage tank on the back of the rig. He used his hydraulic shears to cleave the bolt from the doors. The door reverberated savagely and had there been air for sound to travel through, the noise would have rung Chaunce's sensitive ears painfully. He flung the now-useless lock into space where the lack of sufficient gravity would carry it away for eons. Inside the storage tank was a full load of raw silver ore. He radioed Rhove with the news.
“Pay dirt, my friend!”
“Whatcha got?”
“About a ton of unrefined silver.” Chaunce hit a few buttons on the rigs control panel and some readings flickered across the small screen. “The fuel gauge readout says there’s half a tank of Perilium 4, too. That should buy us dinner at Mach’s for at least a month.”
“Hook up the pump and let’s get it out of there.” Rhove’s guilt was sufficiently alleviated as the profits from this new find could finance them for another two years. It was a great haul.
Another section of the screen lit up indicating a warning. Chaunce frowned at it and touched the notice but didn't have the password to proceed so he could disable it. They had triggered the alarm alerting the rightful owners but at the speed of light, the message wouldn't get to them for about fifteen minutes (1.8AU) and it would be another four hours before the nearest patrol could investigate. Chaunce kept this information to himself. He didn't want to worry Rhove since this might cause Rhove to abandon the haul and he knew transferring the treasure would only take about three hours. They had time and Chaunce really wanted this haul. He hooked up the syphon line Rhove had lowered and switched it on. Then, slowly, he attached crate after crate to a second tether and Rhove reeled in the first load of silver ore.
It was tedious work but they were happy to do it. Rhove licked his canine snout and panted lightly, but happily as he reeled up load after load. He monitored the fuel flow and wagged his tail in his pressure suit. He looked out to see if Chaunce had filled the next crate to be hauled in and saw a shadow pass over his friend who immediately spun to see its source. Chaunce’s eyes grew wide beneath the glassed helmet and he tensed. Rhove knew there was trouble.
Rhove spun pointlessly towards whatever it was that that cast the shadow but from his position in the airlock, it was out of his line of sight.
“Chaunce…?” he started.
“Go, Rhove! Get us out of here!” his partner shouted back.
Rhove didn’t need any more warning than that. He simply shouted “hold on tight, pal!” as he climbed towards the bridge hand over hand on the walls rails cursing the lack of gravity for the clumsiness of moving through it. Chaunce moved his tether clip from the drilling rig to the crate cable and leapt into space away from the ship to keep the cable as taut as possible to avoid the inevitable whiplash that would accompany the sudden acceleration. He timed it almost perfectly as the ship accelerated right as he reached the furthest extent of the slack and was suddenly flying after the ship on the end of the cable. The corporate security craft that had cast the shadow swung around in pursuit. It bore the typical blue and white bold stripes and unimaginative shield regalia of the Dione Private Security Corporation. If they followed their normal, predictable pursuit procedures, they would fire a warning shot, but not before two broadcasted vocal warnings. Any second now, they would cut into all standard com frequencies and…
The radio receiver crackled and bled into the transmission between Rhove and Chaunce. “Unknown vessel,” it commanded, “power down your engines.”
Rhove banked the ship evasively and Chaunce briefly flew in front of the security ship’s forward window but the occupants could not see Chaunce‘s grinning face behind the reflection on his helmet though his waving paw was as clear as could be.
“Haaaaaoooooooooowwwwwww,” Chaunce howled gleefully into the helmet transceiver. Rhove ignored him for the moment. He was concentrating on getting the ship as far away as fast as possible. Chaunce whipped lazily about as they sped off but it was quickly apparent to him that if he didn’t get reeled in soon, he’d be dragged into the ship’s thruster exhaust.
“Uh, Rhove?”
“How ya doing, pal?
“This is fun and all but if you don’t reel me in right now, this ship’s going to cook me.”
Rhove reached over to the accessory controls and threw the appropriate switch which started the winch. He arced the ship to keep Chaunce out of the exhaust’s path as his partner’s distance from the ship closed. By now, the security ship was in solid pursuit and catching up. Chaunce spun dizzily on the cable as the stars twisted around in his view but the airlock was getting closer.
“Unknown vessel,” the security ship commanded again, “power down your engines or prepare to be fired upon.”
Chaunce held his two paws together and pointed them threateningly at his pursuers. “Pew pew!” He shouted. Then he splayed his arms out and lolled his tongue out of his muzzle. “Ugh! Ya got me!” he groaned, but as he rolled his head back in mock death, he noticed he was within reach of the airlock.
He grabbed the tether, pulled himself in, and tried to collapse but the zero gravity would not let him. Instead, he just floated inside and bounced off the walls until he could grasp the hand rails. This entrance was less dramatic than I thought it would be, he thought to himself and sealed the airlock.
On the bridge, the airlock indicator light blinked “sealed” and Rhove shoved the throttle to full. They shot off into the void and the security ship slowly disappeared behind them.
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