Spacers: First Command by Scott Bartlett

Author:Scott Bartlett [Bartlett, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mirth Publishing
Published: 2019-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

On Prosper Station

Epact System, Dupliss Region

Earth Year 2290

Captain Will Avery crawled along the life support service duct as quickly and quietly as he could, pushing his Dragon Tac-50 semi-automatic sniper rifle along ahead of him.

“Your ships are getting blown apart as we speak,” Major Hancock, commander of the Jersey’s marine company, whispered into his ear—a whisper, since Avery’s directional speaker was turned down as low as it would go. “We’re your only way out of here. I repeat: do not harm any of those people. We’re willing to negotiate with you, but those people’s lives are nonnegotiable.”

“Everything is negotiable,” a pirate answered back. “Particularly their lives, since we hold them in our hands. As it happens, I don’t trust you. I don’t think you have the firepower to destroy all three of our ships.”

“Not all three?” Hancock shot back. “Just how many do you think we’ll destroy, then? Two? Two-and-a-half? Don’t dick me about. I think you understand full well the position you’re in.”

Avery reached an intersection, where he could either continue straight or turn right. He consulted his eyepiece, which displayed a map of the service duct network he’d entered just a few minutes after Attack Shuttle One had docked with Prosper Station. He’d left his helmet behind—even though it was capable of syncing with his rifle’s scope, he preferred to go natural.

“No pressure, Avery,” Hancock had whispered as he’d pushed himself along the first stretch of cramped tunnel. “But you’re those people’s only hope for survival. We have time to play just one card before we need to clear the rest of the station. Else, the pirates will regroup and punish us for being so soft-hearted.”

The hostages were being held inside a long, low control room that overlooked two repair bays as well as the docking bay where the marines had come in. Other than the bulkhead facing the station, the control room was surrounded by deck-to-overhead windows of bulletproof acrylic. The pirates stood in full view of the marines in the docking bay below, weapons pressed theatrically against their captives’ heads. It would have been a simple matter for Hancock and his marines to rush the control room up the metal staircase that switched back and forth until it reached a standard-sized hatch, which Hancock would have ordered blown open. In that scenario, Avery would have stayed on the docking bay deck, to shoot any pirates who tried to use the high ground against the ascending marines. With the Frontier marines’ training and silver power armor, Avery wouldn’t be surprised if they mowed down every last pirate in there without taking any casualties. But the hostages would never have made it.

So Avery had begun his journey through the duct system, climbing ladders and squeezing himself through spaces that would make most men feel claustrophobic. Hell, it made him feel a little cramped, if he was being honest.

Six pirates. At least, six we could see through the window. Luckily, his weapon was self-loading, and the distance between

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