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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Auggy74 on 2024-12-24 16:03:03+00:00.

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The next hour passed in silence, with Edwards placing the intercept time on everyone’s console - though everyone did eventually use the bathroom. It took some time, but Nhoot had corralled Jonesy and carried his softly protesting form to Gryzzk’s quarters. As the numbers began to tick down, Gryzzk requested a silent status update by using his tablet, as if speaking would break the concentration. Even Rosie was holding herself in a static position.

There was a soft chime from Reilly’s console. “They’re hailing us captain. Audio only.”

“Hold for now. O’Brien, weapons range?” Gryzzk wanted a few pieces of information first.

“Extreme but doable. Keep them talking, they’ll be in range fairly quick.”

“Edwards, get a scan on their holds.”

“Minimal, sir. Based on how they’re moving, it looks like they were headed out when they saw us.” Edwards pursed her lips.

“Any change on the course of the other three?”

“Negative.”

“Reilly, signal the Godsfang, advise them that we’re cutting the tow, and that if shots are fired, they are to proceed to Hurdop Prime at flank speed – if they protest, remind them that if they’re destroyed not only do they die, we don’t get paid and we like getting paid. And then open the audio channel.”

Reilly nodded. “Channel open.”

The channel did not have high quality, but it was audible and simple. “Surrender.”

Gryzzk quirked a bit – perhaps it was time to be Terran for a moment. “You wish to surrender? We accept.”

There was a growl. “N-no! You will surrender to us or face the wrath of the Throne’s Fortune Group.”

Gryzzk stood before pacing a bit. “Throne’s Fortune Group, this is Captain Gryzzk of the Terran Foreign Legion Ship Twilight Rose - I’m hoping we can come to a peaceful agreement. We are escorting Vilantian emissaries in order to unify our worlds.”

The reply was harsh. “The only peaceful agreement is the one where you give us what’s in your hold and give over your crew for ransoms. Vilantia’s been nothing but lies to us for centuries, why should we believe you?”

“Half of my crew are from Hurdop. I’ve been training with them, learning with them.”

“You’re Vilantian. Why should I believe you?”

“Would you believe me if one of my crew spoke to you?”

The transmission became clearer as the ships approached. “Perhaps. If the crew member was known.”

“A moment.” Gryzzk turned to Reilly. “Have Private Pafreet join the conversation.”

There was a slight grin on Reilly’s face as she tapped a control. “He’s on.”

“Pafreet, Captain Gryzzk. We have three ships who are wanting to fire on us from the Throne’s Fortune Group. I’m bringing their leader in momentarily, could you convince them it’s a very bad idea?”

“Of course, Lord Captain. When you are ready.”

As soon as Reilly patched them in, Pafreet spoke, his voice filled with command. “Commodore of the Throne’s Fortune group this is the thirty-third Pafreet in service to the Throne. Verification code 9-2-1-8-Black; you are advised to stand down and alter course. Failure to heed this warning carries consequence. At best you will die without glory. At worst, your ships will be disabled and you will be taken into custody. My Lord Captain is Vilantian, and the last Vilantians who stood against him were remanded to Vilantia with no fur to call their own. Do not think that there will be kindness from him if you fire anything stronger than a thruster at this ship. Look at your scanners, look at the armament you face. Choose your prey wisely and rapidly, friend Commodore.”

There was silence for a long time, before the commodore came back. “We withdraw. Walk with the light gods, friend Pafreet.”

Two of the ships moved off, but the third accelerated toward them.

Things happened very fast after that. Godsfang leaped forward, being paced by the Voided Warranty - the ship that had chosen to ignore the Commodore was firing plasma rounds as rapidly as their guns could cycle on their mad dash to do something; Hoban and O’Brien began speaking in terse sentences as they moved to intercept, while the remaining two ships began to move very rapidly out of the zone so as not to be mistaken for combatants. During this Rosie had gotten on the all-hands channel and alerted the crew to combat stations.

Gryzzk gripped the arms of his chair tightly, staying quiet as the ships closed from extreme to distant, the other ships’ plasma fire wildly missing the mark. “I want that ship disabled if possible.”

“Not gonna be easy, that bucket might fall apart if I threw a rock at it hard enough. And thank the gods their gunner’s shooting like he’s the king of all weekend warriors.” O’Brien called back without looking away from her console.

“You heard her Hoban; get us into position for an engine shot.” Gryzzk tapped a control. “Boarding parties stand to – wound if you can, kill if you must. Seal checks now, and hold on to something.”

Hoban’s hands flew over the controls as he made the ship dance and dart. “Corkscrew time - everybody hitch your tits and pucker up.” He began to punish the engines and thrusters before finally setting up a maneuver that led them directly into the weapons of their opponent, and then flipped the ship nose-down and sent it shooting downward, causing the other ship to fire wildly as the Twilight Rose emitted a faint groan under the stress.

“Grand flying - my turn lad.” O’Brien moved her hands gracefully, and tapped twice - at her command the railguns fired their projectiles through the engines to leave them a ruin of metal and ceramics. The other ship began to tumble, still firing wildly in the vain hope of getting a shot to land. Finally the firing stopped, but the tumble didn’t.

“Hoban, can you match that?”

“Done and done, maneuvering now.” Hoban was at the controls again, gentler this time as the Twilight Rose snugged up to her prize.

Gryzzk stood, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding until the ships were matched. “Boarding parties. Weapons free, we want prisoners, good hunting.” He heard acknowledgment, and subsequently tiny shudders as platforms were launched to latch on and cold-weld themselves at the docking hatches. He then tapped another control. “Medical teams stand by for wounded.” He then listened to the boarding parties communication.

The ensuing fight was brief, as the defenders of the ship did not have a solid answer for Terran combat armor or tear gas. What made it worse was that the other ship’s artificial gravity was out, making shooting an exercise in ensuring both the boarders and defenders could reset properly. On the whole, it seemed to be successful, if the nods from the bridge were anything to say.

And then there was a brightening through the other ship, then total darkness and a small explosion that blew part of the plating off the ship to collide with the Twilight Rose with a large clanging sound.

Rosie was the first to react. “Motherfuckers scratched me! Tarps off and fill your boots boys!”

Over the comms was chaos of overlapping voices - “Get her back to the ship double-time, go-go-go!” “The fuck just happened!?” “Twilight-born shitbag!” “I die for the Thron-urk!” “Pru? Pru, wake that ass up, you were not given permission to die!”

Gryzzk waited for a long moment for the immediate chatter to die down. “Boarding parties status, now.”

A voice that was shaky with adrenaline answered. “One of the Hurdop over here had a self destruct for the ship, but when he popped it off it looks like it just overloaded the circuits – we got one serious casualty en route to medical now, couple others with minor dings.” There was a pause. “It’s Private Prumila, sir.”

Gryzzk paused, fighting the ball of ice that formed in the pit of his stomach at the news. “Secure the ship, get the prisoners over here and in the brig. Then go over the ship as thoroughly as possible, stand by for engineering.” He switched channels again. “Engineering, I want a team standing by to confirm that ship can be towed.”

The minutes ticked by before there was confirmation, and the engineering group went over with scanners and spanners to patch the worst hole, and then verified the ship was capable of being towed, though from Tucker’s report he didn’t think it was worth their time as he reported in an hour later, with Rosie hovering near Tucker and trying to maintain her normal projection.

“Cap, it’s more patches than ship; and the fight didn’t do her a damn bit of good. Honest opinion, this thing probably woulda flown apart from the stresses coming out of R-space. Only thing that mighta worked on that thing was the shower, and even that was a maybe thing. Collectively, that crew’s got balls the size of churchbells - and two brain cells fighting for third place. I think you did them fellas in the brig a favor. 'Specially since it’s curry night. The only thing we found in the logs that wasn’t maintenance and repair notes was a letter of marque from two years ago that’s passed through five captains and six ship re-namings.”

Gryzzk’s mind was, well, elsewhere during the report, only noticing that it was his turn to speak by the lengthening silence. "Understood. Send your recommendations regarding speed and maximum turning capability to Lieutenant Hoba…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1hlgi5h/humans_for_hire_part_30/