The pirate’s gloves were raised high in surrender. Ledbetter and I cautiously approached, our laser carbines still aimed at his skinny chest.

  We were just a few feet off when he suddenly flashed a sinister grin.

  “You fucks really think you’ve got me cornered, huh?” he laughed. His voice was rough and wheezy from the long run.

  Before we could do more than frown, start to cuss and give him orders to stand down, the prick activated a tiny device he must have had hidden in his up-raised glove.

  There was a blinding flash and an explosion. That caught us off guard, sending Ledbetter and me hurtling through the low-gravity environment. We collided with the rocky surface, momentarily dazed by the impact.

  We struggled to our feet and took cover—but the pirate wasn’t starting a shoot-out. He was taking advantage of the chaos he’d created. He was full-on flying away from us, bounding and sprinting like a demented gazelle toward a glowing hunk of dark metal.

  That hunk of metal was a beat-up spacecraft. A one-man flyer that had seen better days. It drifted just above the surface, and it took me a second to realize it was that same small pirate raider we’d seen before.

  “He must have summoned it to come around and pick him up,” I said.

  “That’s a one-man job,” Ledbetter said. “No bigger than a fighter plane—there can’t be a copilot. He must have AI flying it for him.”

  I opened my mouth to agree and suggest we advance—but Ledbetter had other ideas. He unloaded a flurry of laser-bolts.

  A fair number of them struck the tiny craft as the pirate climbed aboard, doubtlessly cursing our mothers, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down.

  “These carbines don’t punch through metal too easily,” I said, deciding not to complain about Ledbetter taking his shot. After all, this pirate more than deserved it.

  “We can damn-well try!” Ledbetter said.

  I agreed, so we both sprayed the rocks and the tiny spacecraft with laser bolts. We hit him—I know we did—but we couldn’t bring him down. Marine carbines were designed to puncture spacesuits, not spaceship hulls. That was the whole point. If you popped a hole in your spaceship, you were as likely to kill yourself as you were to kill whatever you were shooting at.

  The second the pirate was aboard, the tiny ship’s engines glimmered into blue-flaming life. The ship kicked up a storm of dust and ice.

  “Goddamnit!” I shouted, pushing myself off the ground. “He’s getting away.”

  “I told you we should have shot his ass off!” Ledbetter admonished. “The moment I saw him, I knew—”

  “Yeah, yeah—shut up.”

  We did what we could, bounding up high with our suit thrusters to get a better shot. But despite our best efforts, the pirate raider escaped the asteroid’s surface and zoomed into space.

  “Sergeant Cox, the claim-jumper has escaped in a small vessel!” I reported baring my teeth in rage. It was my fault, just like Ledbetter had said.

  “You fuck-nuts!” Sergeant Cox’s voice crackled through our helmet speakers. “You fucked up, Starn. All right, all right… Listen up, people. All marines, return to Borag immediately! Captain Hansen has decided to lift off and pursue!”

  Ledbetter and I released a long stream of profanity as we raced back toward Borag. We had been so close to apprehending the claim-jumper, but his filthy trick had given him the opportunity to escape.

  He’d faked all that bullshit about getting stuck between the boulders. We’d walked right into a tiny explosive meant to stun us. It could have been a deadly anti-personnel mine, just as easily. Sergeant Cox was right, I had fucked up. Totally. I’d almost gotten both of us killed by being too nice. That truth was frigging galling.

  In the end, we barely made it back to Borag before she lifted off and fried our sorry butts in a radiation-bath. The only reason we made it at all was because there were a lot of drill-bots that needed to be trundled aboard and stowed in the cargo hold.

  About ninety seconds later, we raced up the ramp into Borag’s guts, the ship’s big engines rumbled. As we waited for Borag’s airlock to cycle, I could hear the thrum of the engines growing louder, signaling that they were warming up for liftoff.

  All the exterior displays and sensor data were relayed to screens all over the ship. We watched as Borag began her pursuit of the pirate vessel in earnest. The hope was that we could catch up to the claim-jumper before he could meet up with his buddies—or just plain disappear into the vastness of space.

  “What the holy hell…?” Ledbetter asked, pointing at the screens in the ops center.

  I turned and winced. More small pirate raiders had appeared from behind nearby asteroids. They were coming out of the frigging shadows from everywhere, their tiny engines burning hot.

  “This looks bad,” Lt. Quinn said, boggling at the swarm of tiny ships. “Real bad—like it was a setup. Maybe they were all maneuvering, sneaking up close to us all along. Maybe you didn’t screw the dog all that badly, Starn. You flushed them out.”

  “That’s right…” Sergeant Cox said. “That one pirate was the real fuck-up in this situation. He showed himself too early. They were going to spring a trap, but now that Borag is up and flying, they have to show themselves and chase after us.”

  “Yeah…” Ledbetter said. “It was all part of Starn’s master plan.”

  Fortunately, the other guys weren’t listening to Ledbetter. They were too busy staring at screens to listen to a private. “He got greedy,” Quinn said. “That’s what happened. He wanted to cash in on some ore—but that alerted us before the big attack could come crashing down on our ship all at once.”

  Sergeant Cox eyed me. “You two got lucky just by getting back aboard—we all did. In the end, I think it was a good thing that raider managed to lift off. Whatever plans his buddies had were blown when we took off to chase him—but don’t forget this lesson, Starn. If you make the wrong choice out here, it could cost everything.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. It was tough to be on the spot, making key decisions that could save everyone—or kill them all.

  Captain Hansen’s voice boomed over our suit comms, her tone urgent and commanding. “All hands, we’re going to maintain peak acceleration. Secure all equipment and personnel.”

  We didn’t need any more urging. We strapped our asses into jump seats, and moments later, the acceleration curve of the big ship got rough.

  As Borag gained altitude, we watched the numerous small one-man pirate ships turn away. They were darting away from us like minnows in a pond evading a giant foot. With purpose and speed, their flight paths first dove away out of our weapons range—but then, there was a shift. They were flying parallel to us, off to our sides in every direction.

  “What the hell are they doing?” I heard myself ask.

  There were no answers from my comrades.

  We watched until things became more clear. The tiny ships soon left us behind, being smaller and more agile. Then, they began converging again. They were all zipping toward a much larger vessel waiting in the distance ahead. It had to be the pirate mothership.

  Captain Hansen’s voice echoed through the ship’s intercom. “Weapons systems, take out the smaller pirate vessels until we can close with their mothership.”

  Borag’s laser cannons fired in quick succession, sending hot streaks of energy across the void. The smaller pirate ships twisted and weaved, attempting to evade the incoming fire, but some succumbed to the barrage. They vanished, exploding in flashes of light.

  We targeted the smaller ships, and the pirate mothership finally retaliated. Its massive laser cannons targeted Borag, unleashing a volley of powerful energy beams. The ship shuddered under the impact, and we heard the distant clang of metal as our layered armor and waffled hull absorbed the brunt of the attack.

  We were posted at our security station, our headquarters aboard Borag. One thing that was nice to have was our large wall display. It showed both the exterior of the ship and a piped-in feed from the bridge. Red Company was considered part of Borag’s active defense team. That status allowed us to watch just about everything they could see up on the bridge—we just couldn’t control any of it.

  “The hull is holding, Captain,” I watched Ensign Freya Carter report from her station on the bridge. My heart surged to see her playing her part, as she was my girlfriend.

  “We can’t sustain this level of fire for long,” Captain Hansen said. Her face hardened as she considered her options. “Keep targeting the smaller ships. We need to thin their numbers. Helm, plot an intercept course for that mothership. We have to stop them from escaping.”

  “Aye, Captain,” responded the helmsman, and the ship shifted course, moving to intercept the pirate mothership.

  As an independent mining rig, part of Borag’s charter required her to serve as a patrol ship. Out past Mars, Earth Gov had decided it was cheaper to have ships like ours serve as a source of law, order and justice. There were no big, sleek cruisers out this far in the Solar System. Past Mars orbit, it was all a big frontier zone.

  In the distant past, ships like ours had been called “privateers”. In those ancient colonial days, ships like ours paid for themselves. Borag worked in a similar fashion. We served the interests of Mars and Earth—but we were very independent most of the time.

  We searched for valuable minerals and other finds and brought them home to the Inner Planets. In turn, we were financed and allowed to do pretty much as we wished most of the time.

  Today, with the discovery of a serious pirate threat, we were going to have to serve in our other, less happy capacity: as law enforcement. It was our mission to capture or destroy pirates who posed a clear and present danger to peaceful commerce.

  We continued to exchange fire with the pirate raiders and their big carrier. The battle escalated with each passing moment. As Red Company marines, we were pretty much spam in a can. We couldn’t do much unless Borag was boarded. Then, our job would be to protect this ship and her crew.

  Borag closed the distance with the pirate mothership. The enemy vessel took a barrage of hits from Borag’s laser cannons. We cheered when we saw some venting, puffs of gas and flaming plasmas—which indicated we’d punched through her tough hull and scored a real hit.

  “We got her in the guts!” Sergeant Cox shouted. “Did you see that, boys? Did you see that?”

  It became clear to the pirates in that moment that they were outmatched. In a desperate attempt to escape, the mothership’s engines roared to life, and it began to retreat at full speed.

  “They’re running!” shouted Ledbetter, his eyes glued to the viewscreen as the pirate ship rapidly increased its distance from Borag.

  Captain Hansen’s voice rang out over the intercom. “Helm, stay on their tail! We cannot let them escape!”

  “Aye, Captain!” the helmsman responded, pushing Borag’s engines to their limits as we pursued the fleeing pirate mothership.

  The pirate ship gained distance, gradually moving out of our weapons range. But Borag was relentless in her pursuit, refusing to let the enemy slip away.

  As we continued the chase, the space between the pirate mothership and Borag began to stretch further and further, putting them just out of the reach of our weapons. The pirate ship’s propulsion systems seemed to give it a slight edge over our own.

  Captain Hansen’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Keep pushing the engines.”

  “I’m giving it everything she’s got, Captain,” replied the helmsman, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he wrestled with the controls. “We’re carrying a large mass of ore, Ma’am. We could… dump our load…”

  The captain and the helmsman exchanged glances. Accountant Blackwood, as if sensing this moment would come, made an appearance on the bridge right then. He gazed sternly at Captain Hansen as if daring her to be so foolish.

  “Is there talk of dumping cargo?” he asked. “Do I need to make an annotation to our books?”

  Captain Hansen glanced at him, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she turned back to the situation screens.

  “Helmsman, stay on her tail,” she said. “We’ll follow and see where she goes. I’m not giving up everything we’ve worked for just to catch her.”

  Accountant Blackwood vanished. The pursuit continued, with Borag hot on the pirate mothership’s heels. The smaller vessels that had been left behind fired at us, but they couldn’t penetrate our ship’s thick hull. At last, Captain Hansen grew tired of the harassment.

  “Shoot down the closest one,” she ordered.

  As Borag continued to pursue the fleeing pirate mothership, the small one-man pirate vessels darted around, attempting to evade our fire. Their erratic movements made them difficult targets, but our gunners were highly skilled and relentless in their pursuit.

  One such pirate raider, painted black with red accents, twisted and weaved through the void, trying to escape Borag’s targeting systems. Its pilot, likely aware of the mounting danger, pushed his small vessel to its limits, leaving a trail of ionized gas in its wake.

  Just as the raider seemed to slip through our targeting systems, a missile fired from Borag’s launcher locked onto its heat signature. The missile streaked through space, leaving a trail of white smoke and blue flame, relentlessly pursuing the tiny craft.

  Despite the pilot’s best efforts to evade, the missile closed in. The distance between the two shrank rapidly. The small pirate ship banked sharply to the left, but the missile didn’t lose track. It adjusted its course, never losing the lock it had on the tiny craft.

  The raider went for a final, desperate maneuver. He tried to dive below an asteroid, hoping to use the rock as a shield. But the missile was too close, and as the pirate dipped, the missile connected with the side of his ship.

  There was a brilliant flash of light as the missile detonated, engulfing the small vessel in a fiery explosion. The shockwave sent debris hurtling in all directions, leaving behind nothing other than a cloud of smoke and twisted metal.

  “That will teach the others a lesson,” Hansen said in a grim tone.

  Sure enough, the swarm of tiny ships broke off and zoomed away from us.

  As the distance between Borag and the pirate mothership continued to widen, the crew scrambled to analyze the fleeing ship’s trajectory. It didn’t take long for them to come to a conclusion.

  “Captain, the pirate ship’s flight path is consistent with a course for Neptune,” reported Freya, her fingers flying across her console. “Of course, she might fluctuate, but there’s really not that much out there in her shrinking cone of possible destinations.”

  Captain Hansen’s eyes narrowed as she considered this new information. “Neptune, huh? That’s a long way off…” She hammered her console in frustration, causing colorful holograms to dance. “Damn…”

  Chapter 3: The Long Chase

  As we continued our pursuit of the pirate mothership, a conference was held via long-range radio. Captain Hansen reported back to Mars, giving all the details of our situation. Hours later, a priority message arrived from the Controller of Interplanetary Excavations on Mars.

  Captain Hansen called the crew and Red Company together to meet via screen. The entire far wall of the mess hall lit up, displaying her concerned face. You could just tell she was pissed as she held a data tablet in her hand.

  “Attention, everyone,” she began, her voice like gravel. “We’ve received new orders from the Interplanetary Excavations Controller on Mars. They’ve been monitoring the situation. They’ve decided our mission isn’t only to pursue the pirate mothership, but also to hunt for and destroy any bases we may find.”

  The crew exchanged glances, the gravity of their new orders sinking in. This expanded mission was a jab in the gut for all of us.

  “The Controller has made it clear that these pirates are operating outside the law. They must be stopped,” Captain Hansen continued. “We’ve been charged with doing everything in our power to protect the interests of Interplanetary Excavations.”

  A ripple of disgust went through the assembled crew and marines. Everyone disagreed. Sure, we understood our responsibilities—but now these suits from Mars were like puppeteers. What we wanted, as a group, was to take our cargo home and cash in.

  There were loud complaints, but none of that mattered. The decision had already been made. Borag was traveling full-steam ahead. We raced toward Neptune, pursuing the pirate mothership, without pausing for a moment.

  We, the members of Red Company, were on high alert. We had to steel ourselves for the long journey and battles in deep space.

  “This frigging sucks,” Ledbetter told me, his big mouth voicing what pretty much everyone was already thinking. “We’re talking an extra six damned months round-trip. Neptune is just too damned far away, man!”

  I agreed with him—but I also had other, darker worries. This wasn’t just a situation of delayed gratification. No. We were in trouble.

  It was during a secret meeting in the medical bay with Dr. Sharaf, the ship’s physician, that my worst fears surfaced.

  The big trouble was our status. I was one of the infected marines aboard Borag. During our last long mission to Eris, a dwarf planet in the Oort Cloud, something like half of Red Company had been exposed to a gene-mutating virus. The alien base we’d discovered on the tiny frozen world had been full of virus particles of a very strange variety.

  We’d gained a lot of money from that trip, but we’d also gained a souvenir—something that never went away. Dr. Sharaf had provided us a monthly medication to keep the disease at bay—but did she have enough of the stuff to keep us going for six months? That was the question in my mind.

  Dr. Sharaf was a middle-aged woman with a constant air of discontent. Her once-black hair had started to gray at the temples, and worry lines dug deep into her forehead. Her eyes were a sharp, piercing gray—and they were never still. They scrutinized everyone around her, and she was perpetually dissatisfied with everything.

  Nobody liked her. She had a reputation for being difficult to work with, as she was quick to criticize and slow to praise. She was stubborn and unwilling to admit when she was wrong, which often led to conflicts with her colleagues.