Ghostship Derelict by David Hensley & J. R. Handley

Author:David Hensley & J. R. Handley [Hensley, David & Handley, J. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Ravens Publishing
Published: 2024-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

Master Gunnery Sergeant Laurence Fillipos

4th Platoon, Pike Company, 1215th Legion

DFMS Lumo, Deck-3, designated Cargo-2

30 June 4776 DFC

They cut open the hatch for the forward ladderwell and descended to Cargo Two. Technically, it was Lumo’s third deck, but neither shipbuilders, the navy, nor the merchant fleet counted the same way as the legion. They insisted that every ship have a primary deck and that deck was Deck-0. So, he was on Lumo’s second deck, Cargo Two, and working on clearing the ship’s secondary computer compartment. That was what the schematics called it. It was not what he found when they opened the hatch.

Instead of the angled steel racks that should have contained a dozen computers each, they found row after row of synthsteel framed shelves. They were filled deck to overhead with shiny weapons shipping crates. Walking over to the nearest one, he broke the lock—a simple one meant to keep honest people honest—and popped the top. Inside were eight T-37 railgun carbines. He lifted one of the weapons from the crate and inspected it from muzzle to butt plate before performing a quick function check. It was in pristine working condition, still covered in preservative coating with the dust cover over the magazine well.

“They’re brand-new.”

It wasn’t uncommon to find black-market military weaponry. They were generally old, broken-down relics, hard used, and poorly cared for. Civilian models, however, were different. They were dumb weapons without all the bells and whistles that the military loved. The civilian models also lacked battle armor interfaces. They simply went bang, most of the time, and clicked other times. Or vice versa, depending on the quality of the build.

“Waithe?”

“What’s up, Master Guns.”

“I think it’s time we took a look at what’s on those data sticks Kadiev recovered.”

“You sure?” Waithe asked. Fillipos watched her moving through the rows of weapons crates to his position. “If they hold anything useful, and the Purser or whoever it was that put the data on them was even a little bit paranoid when we put it in the armor readers, they’ll just get wiped slick. If we’re lucky, that’s all that’ll happen.”

“I’m sure. Run those things back up to Peterson. If anyone can crack those without wiping them outside a Navint lab, it’s him.”

“Roger.” Waithe slipped past Master Gunnery Sergeant Fillipos and out the hatch.

He switched up to the channel he shared with the XO. “LT, we’ve got something here.”

“So do we.” Her voice was nearly unreadable through the howling hiss and crackle of the jammed comms, even with the string of relay drones connecting them. “No longer a rescue op. Get Cargo Two cleared. We’ll link up in engineering and proceed together to clear the rest of Lumo.”

“Roger.” He put the carbine back into its crate and shut the lid. “Why the change.”

“Data package coming your way.”

Fillipos sorted through the images coming in from Lieutenant Beilfus. “You know,” he paused and zoomed in on the various containers, “this looks a lot like the inside of a back-alley augment shop. Provided the staff were all under a meter in height.

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