The Pirate King

“If you’re out to kill me, I ask that you make it quick.”

One of the officers responded by hitting my face with the butt of their rifle. They didn’t seem all that interested in chatting, which to be honest, I considered a good sign. If they wanted me dead, I would’ve been shot by now. And if they were going to try anything unsavory, I expected more sneers and jeers, not a military style shakedown.

I took a deep breath and winced through the pain. The smoke cleared, and the soldiers dragged me upwards. Two of them checked in on the two mechanics behind me, who cowered on the deck with their hands protecting their necks.

“She’s not armed,” said the man on my left. I could make out faint bluish text scrolling across the heads up display of his protective visor.

The officer at the center of the squad stepped forward. They safetied their gun and motioned for the rest of the team to do the same. Their opaque visor flashed transparent, revealing the face of a woman with weathered blond hair, alluring sea-green eyes, and way too much makeup for a leader of a ship’s security detail.

“That dress,” she said. “I like it. It’s a Ligotti, isn’t it? I recognize the baroque embellishments. I have a few myself. Older designs, obviously.”

Was she toying with me? Well, two could play that game.

“Is that right?” I asked. “Where’d you find it? Let me guess, for free, off an abandoned luxury liner in the Atvian Sector.”

“So you know who we are,” she smiled. “Good. That makes things easier.”

The woman nodded to the two soldiers holding me in place. They dropped my arms and fell in behind her.

“Come with us,” she said. “Captain’s waiting. Caspian, Jeffries. You’re both coming along too.”

“You don’t seriously think I’m going to just follow you there?”

“I thought we had a mutual understanding,” the woman said. “Or did you want to be dragged all the way to the bridge?”

“I’d prefer we drop the pretense that I’m some kind of honored guest, yeah.”

“Suit yourself.”

The woman nodded. She eyed the two closest soldiers closest to her. They returned to my side and snatched up my elbows. They gripped me tighter this time.

I allowed my body to go limp into my captors’ arms, head drooping, feet dragging, and smirked at the surprised grunt of two soldiers trying to hoist me upright.

“Enjoy the small victories, Lady Greymoor,” the woman chuckled. “They often never last.”

My jaws tightened like my head had been clamped between her words.

“Am I supposed to feel scared because you know who I am?” I managed to say. “How about you tell me your name?”

“Lucia,” she answered without pause. “Born and raised on Hadrian.”

My head spun.

“...Hadrian’s in Caerleon space.”

“Sure it is. For now.”

“Psst,” whispered the boy Caspian. “What are they talking about, Jeffries?”

“I think our princess here is unaware that half the crew is from the imperium.”

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear,” I called back to the two mechanics. “If you’re like her, you’re not from the imperium. You’re defectors.”

“And what does that make you?” Lucia asked. “Don’t tell me you’re simply lost.”

“Exiled.”

“Ah. What a meaningful distinction,” Lucia sighed. “Well, that means you’ll fit right in with the rest of them, then.”

“Them?”

She didn’t answer. Her men carried me into an elevator on the far side of the hangar. The lift ferried us up two, maybe three, levels until we reached a long dark corridor tagged with thin blinking light strips along the walls. I could hear chatter at the end of the hall. Lucia waved to her men, and they let go of their hold on me.

“I’ll take it from here,” she said. “Let’s go, Lady Greymoor. Captain’s up ahead. He’s been waiting for you.”

“Not carrying me the rest of the way?” I asked. “It’s just a few more steps.”

“This is Circe, my lady,” Lucia answered. “Aboard this ship, everyone who works earns their fair share. Consider this me doing you a favor.”

Something bothered me about Lucia. I wasn’t quite sure what it was just yet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mocking me somehow. I did, however, pick myself up as was told and followed her down the corridor. Right now, there were more concerning questions, like why was Circe’s captain waiting for me?

Wait, how long had he been waiting for me?

The corridor expanded into the bridge. A thick window that spanned the width of the room gazed out into space. The deck was lit by bright computer terminals lined on opposite ends of the floor, stationed by men and women wearing outfits that violated every imperial regulation imaginable, with the exception of one woman standing over an astronavigation console, dressed in imperial white and blue.

So she was the navigator who had charted Circe’s parallel trajectory.

An elongated table stood at the center of the bridge. Above it flashed holographic displays, subspace routes to nearby stars, and a three dimensional projection of the local star system, with blue and green dots assuming the positions of the Sunless Fleet. White blips blinked two or three parsecs away on the map. Probes, perhaps?

But Circe’s command center did not hold my attention. My attention had snapped to the large man who stood facing the dancing holograms. He was taller than me, taller and broader than Gawain. He didn’t need to turn around, as he did, to introduce himself for me to know who he was.

This was the Pirate King. I was sure of it, because he looked much like I had imagined. Rich, piercing eyes, almost like a wolf. Dense foliage around the mouth and neck. He wore an umber trench coat and matching khakis, and you could tell his smile was going to grind your gears. The only item that seemed out of place for someone like him was the ball cap that he wore over his curly hair.

“Sir, I’ve brought the princess,” Lucia saluted.

I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting military discipline aboard the vessel. The King’s edict?

“I will address you in just a moment, Miss Greymoor,” said the Pirate King. “I apologize for the discourtesy. I must first attend to matters regarding my crew.”

Another surprise. I heard no boom or deep tremble in his voice. It was soft spoken and tender; it reminded me of the chastising my father gave me when I disappeared at the shipyards to go inspect engines. The Pirate King walked past me and faced the two engineers that had followed us to the bridge.

“Caspian. Jeffries,” said the Pirate King. “This marks the fourth time this month you two have gone against ship regulations and interrogated a captured vessel before security is on deck. Would the two of you care to explain yourselves?”

“It’s my fault captain,” Jeffries stepped forward. “I wanted to take a look. I heard rumors there were royalties aboard. Couldn’t help myself.”

Caspian didn’t open his mouth, but the embarrassment in his eyes told the rest of the story. The Pirate King sighed.

“Jeffries, we've been through this song and dance before. No one here believes you’re the one who started it,” he said. “I’m asking why you didn’t stop Caspian. Again.”

“It was my fault capitan,” Caspian blurted.

“I know it was your fault,” the captain repeated. “I’m asking why Jeffries didn’t stop you as is his responsibility as your guardian.”

“Kid just wanted to see a royal up close,” Jeffries sighed. “Can’t blame him for that. He’s stuck in the armory all day.”

My ears twitched.

“Excuse me,” I interjected. “That’s not what you implied earlier. You assumed I was some criminal while outside the capsule.”

“Can’t ever be too careful,” Jeffries shrugged. “And with the way you handled the both of us, I’d say I wasn’t wrong.”

“Enough. All of you,” the Pirate King snapped. “Miss Greymoor, a reminder that this is my ship. Caspian. Jeffries. You’re both talented engineers, some of the best, but I cannot keep you onboard when you risk a security incident at every junction. When we rendezvous at the next waystation, you two will be switching from my command.”

The blood vanished from Jeffries’s face. Did he already know where he was going?

“Switching?” Jeffries stammered. “To where?”

“I think you both know where.”

The old man suddenly fainted. Caspian caught Jeffries’s limp body with tears just rupturing from his eyes. The boy sounded like he was trying to say something, but nothing came out but sobs and whimpers. What kind of hell had the captain subjected them to?

“Now go pack your affects,” the Pirate King ordered. “You’re both dismissed.”

Caspian dragged the old engineer off the bridge. The Pirate King returned to the command console without so much as a look at me. He stood before the blinking holograms, his hands twirling aimlessly among the lights.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Miss Greymoor,” the Pirate King finally said. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ulysses, though I imagine you’ve already deduced my more famous title.”

“The Pirate King,” I replied. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Elaine Greymoor. How is House Greymoor these days? Given your appearance, I imagine their experiments have been going swimmingly.”

My skin bristled. House Greymoor was not a powerful Caerleon family, at least not anymore. That the Pirate King knew anything about it worried me, because it could only mean that the arrival of the Sunless Flight to my prison destination was not a coincidence.

“Your head of security’s tried the same tactic,” I nodded at Lucia. “So you know House Greymoor’s not-so-well-kept secret. How does that help you here, beyond the core worlds, in the middle of nowhere?”

Ulysses turned to Lucia.

“You tried to scare her already?” he asked.

“Sir,” Lucia’s posture straightened. “Lady Greymoor wanted to express that she did not come willingly.”

That’s what it was.

Lady. Lucia had called me lady. Lady Greymoor.

I know this sounds pedantic, but the importance of language in Caerleon political games could not be understated. To address me as “lady” as opposed to “miss” was a sign of respect, yes, but it also represented common deference, the existence of entrenched political and blood-related hierarchies, one’s attractiveness for marriage; to address me as Lady Greymoor could only be done on purpose in the imperium, which is why Arthur never addressed me as such.

Yet out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no power, no resources, no friends or allies, no hope for recourse against my enemies, Lucia had called me lady as if I still held any modicum of station in high society, and that pissed me off. Did she know it would bother me?

“You will bring our guests here to the bridge, Lucia,” Ulysses said. “Leave the antagonizing to me.”

“Yes, captain.”

“So, Miss Greymoor,” Ulysses returned to me. “What brings you outside the imperium?”

“You tell me,” I replied. “Who told you I’d be here?”

Ulysses laughed.

“You think we have spies in the imperium?” he asked.

“I don’t think, captain, I deduce. How can anyone know that a member of the royal court is exiled to a far world? Well, news travels fast. My exile could have been all over the morning tabloids, tabloids that are pasted all over the GalactaNet. Likely even you read some morning gossip while on the toilet.”

“Then–”

“However,” I rebutted. “That’s not enough to know where I’ve been exiled to. There’s at least three thousand viable exile worlds outside of the Imperial Rim. You’re telling me you got lucky, captain? Camped at the right planet and waited for me to arrive?”

Ulysses leaned against his command console and stroked his beard.

“They told me you’d be like this,” he said.

“Then they also probably told you I can’t stand bullshit,” I replied. “You have me captive. Well done. Congratulations. Let’s cut to the chase and talk about why I’m here. Is it for ransom? Or what, did you fall in love with me?”

“Fall in love?” Ulysses laughed a second time. “No. Nothing like that, Miss Greymoor. And you’re not here for ransom either. Anything else? Do you have any other brilliant deductions you’d like to share?”

He was mocking me. I would too if I held all the cards. My instincts surveyed the rest of the bridge looking for an exit. None existed, though I did notice that the lights on the periphery of the Pirate King’s command console had turned an ember orange hue.

“I won’t tell you why you’re here, Miss Greymoor,” Ulysses continued. “But whatever honor you can grant to an old pirate, you have my word that I’m not here to hurt you. If anything, maybe you should be thanking me for not leaving you stranded on that planet down there. Nasty world. The jungles down there are labyrinths. The only way out is through the belly of one of the predators.”

“Why bring me here?” I asked. “If you didn’t want me to know anything, you would have confined me to a cell until I was of use to you.”

“Not everything’s about you, Miss Greymoor, though I must admit I often fall for that same trap. Narcissism. Ego. It’s what we share, Miss Greymoor. Anyway, I wanted to see you for myself. After all, our encounters from here on out will be infrequent but, I hope, meaningful when they occur. I will leave you in the capable hands of–”

“Captain!” the navigations officer yelled from her seat. “Subspace signatures on the perimeter. My estimates suggest four distinct enemy battle groups.”

“Ah!” Ulysses folded his hands together. “Perfect timing, as always. Emiko?”

“Sir!” the officer shot up and saluted. Compared to any of Ulysses’s other crew members, her form and character were beyond comparison.

“Once we’ve greeted our uninvited guests, return to your original station. You’ll be taking Miss Greymoor with you. Introduce her to the captain, will you?”

“Understood.”

“Lucia,” Ulysses ordered. “Wake up the night shift and get the ship combat ready. Arrange a detachment and have them accompany the civilian vessels to the next waystation. We’ll catch up shortly.”

“Consider it done,” Lucia saluted and hurried off.

“Who are you expecting, exactly?” I asked.

Ulysses folded his arms. He offered me a burlesque flabbergasted stare.

“Seriously?” he said. “You don’t know who it is?”

“What? Are they other pirates?”

My answer sounded stupid the moment I spoke it aloud. I collected my thoughts and ran through the possibilities again. One of them stood out over the others.

“Wait,” I scoffed. “The imperium is coming here?”

Ulysses shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t they? A member of the royal court has been captured by pirates.”

“But you’ve only just arrived!” I argued. “Even with the fastest engines, the Caerleon military would need at least another day to reach here if they set out from one of the core worlds.”

“An astute observation,” Ulysses clapped. “The kind that we need more of around here. We do, in fact, have a conundrum, Miss Greymoor. Why has the Caerleon Imperium followed you, their recently exiled princess, here? Fortunately, we don’t need to stand around debating theory. Why don’t we just ask them ourselves?”

“Contact!” the navigations officer named Emiko yelled, “Imperial vessels are stationed outside of active range. They’re hailing us.”

My eyes couldn’t spot any of the ships that Emiko was talking about. The command console, however, highlighted four groups emerging two and a quarter astronomical units from the Sunless Fleet. The scans showcased their models. I recognized several capital ships mixed among frigates and carriers.

“Patch them through.” Ulysses said.

The command console’s display of the solar system vanished. In its place appeared a wide blue rimmed screen. After a second of blurry lines and static, the display blinked to life, revealing the familiar mug of Prince Arthur Pendragon’s most loyal knight.

“This is Knight Captain Gawain, commander of the Noble Interception.”