Hunting The Storm Ch. 01

The worst part was that the Pirates knew that too. Any attempt to board them would no doubt be expected, and his crew would either be cut down or imprisoned, raped and eventually either killed, sold into slavery or forced to join them.

"Captain, do we board them, or wait here and kill them as they come in?" Pilot asked, Gunner at her shoulder. The twins and Cook immediately begun to get dressed, pulling body armour out of the lockers that lined the wall.

"We draw a few in here, take them down and then board," Captain said a moment later. "At least that way we can thin their numbers hopefully."

"Small chance of that," Pilot said flatly.

"I know, but we've got nothing left to lose, so let's go down fighting," he told his crew.

"I'd rather go down fucking," Cook grinned, her rolling pin in one hand and her laser-rifle in the other. Gunner was now armoured up in an identical suit to her sister, but had two laser-repeaters, one in each hand, whie Gunner had that massive Clearance gun cradled in her arms. Pilot had a couple of pistols with her laser-rifle hooked over her shoulder, and Captain looked down at his own weapon, one of the ships laser-rifles, knowing he had two pistols too. They were as tooled up as they were ever going to be, so he sat down at the table to wait.

"You gonna club them to death with that rolling pin?" Pilot said, taking a seat next to Cook.

"I'd happily ram it down their throats, but honestly, if we board their ship and win, I don't want to lose it. Besides, it's an awesome club," she winked.

"The double-dildo rolling pin of death?" Pilot said, teasing.

"That's the one."

A series of metallic clangs sounded from the other side of the door leading down to the engine area. "Stand by," Captain told his crew as he moved to the door.

They heard the thud of footsteps on the metal walkway in the corridor, and then the door shuddered.

"We're not here to hurt you," a voice called, barely audible through the thick steel door.

"Bullshit," Captain shouted back.

"Just lay down your weapons and come out," the voice called back. For some reason it was strangely familiar, but Captain couldn't place it.

He looked around his crew, seeing the determined faces looking back at him.

"You want our weapons, come and get them."

There was a few moments of silence, then a snort from Pilot drew their attention. "You want our weapons, come and get them, Captain? Bit corny, ain't it?" The five of them chuckled.

A bright white spot appeared on the door, rapidly enlarging into a small circle, maybe three or four centimetres in diameter. As soon as the light disappeared, Captain could see a small, neat hole had been bored in the door, as simple as that in a matter of seconds.

He moved to jam his laser-rifle into the hole and fire a round through the gap, but before he could get there, a small round metal object dropped through it and exploded into bright white light and lots of noise.

Captain knew he was staggering back away from the door, but he couldn't help it. His eyes were burning hot, full of white pain and there was a loud ringing in his ears. His nostrils flared as he caught a foreign smell, and seconds later he hit the crew deck floor.

"Gas," he murmured before the white darkness swallowed him.

Captain awoke, his eyes blurry and the sudden brightness made him screw his eyes shut.

"Dim those lights," the familiar male voice said quickly. "Captain, can you open your eyes now."

He slowly opened them, blinking them rapidly to try and get them to focus. He could see he was in a strange room, definitely not on board the Bolt-On.

"Sorry about the gas, but you'll feel better soon. Just breathe deep."

Captain felt the strange device on his face, realising it was an oxygen mask, and as he reached up to remove it, he became aware of the restraints on his wrists. "What the..."

"Relax, Captain. We'll have you out of them in no time," the voice said. Captain focussed on his captor, and he felt another one of those weird familiar sensations again.

"Who are you?" His voice sounded strange inside the mask, but he knew the man had heard him. "You look familiar."

"Don't you know who I am?"

"Not a fuckin clue," Captain grunted. "You're a fucking scumbag Pirate, I know that much. My crew better be alive."

"They are, don't worry. They're fine. Now, you won't believe what I'm about to tell you," The man said, "But what I'm about to say is the truth, and I'll be able to prove it a few minutes later."

"Fuck you and your truth," Captain said, feeling more angry by the second. He pulled at his restraints again.

"Thugly," the man said. "Hold down his arm, but don't break it."

"Yes, boss," a deep grumbly voice replied from his left, and as his arm was suddenly immobilised, Captain turned and saw one of the biggest men he'd ever seen in his life. His muscles were enormous and a head rested on top of it with short spiky blonde hair and a beard that jutted from his chin like an axe blade.

"As I was saying," the man continued, "You won't believe me, but I'll be able to prove it immediately afterwards. Now, a little over three years ago you disappeared and since then you've been the Captain of a ship called 'The Bolt-On', but for those three years you've been brainwashed."

Captain laughed at the ludicrous statement.

"Think it's funny? Tell me what you did before you became Captain of the Bolt-On," the man said, a slight smile twitching on his face.

Captain's face screwed up. "What? Why should I tell you anything?"

"You can't tell me, because you have no memories of life before then, yet you're a grown man and you're twenty eight years old."

"How the fuck do you know I'm twenty-eight?"

The man smiled. "I'll tell you that if you can tell me what you did before the Bolt-On."

Captain didn't care what he'd done before then, hadn't ever thought about it, and whatever it was must have been worth discarding because he couldn't remember it. He shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I did before. I don't care enough about it to remember."

"That's because it was wiped from your memory," the man explained. "You've been programmed to be a specific person with a skill set, desires and needs, little more than a human robot with a hyperactive sex drive, you and your crew."

"What the fuck do you know?" Captain demanded, struggling against the restraints on one side and the giant pinning his arm down on the other.

"I know more than you can imagine, because I've been searching for you for three years now. We're kin, you and I."

"My crew is my family, fucker," Captain blurted, getting more furious by the second.

"No, you're programmed to think like that. I know because you're my brother," the man said finally. "Now I'll prove it."

Captain saw the man remove a small clear case from his pocket and remove a tiny data disc, no more than an inch in diameter, and as he struggled and lunged against the restraints, he watched the man put it into the small port on the side of his AMACS device.

Captain screamed as his mind was bombarded with images, sensations, feelings, sounds, memories of a childhood unknown to him, yet known on some level to him too. His body was rigid, arched against the restraints and he felt like his teeth would shatter at the pressure in his jaw as the data blasted into him, like a dozen strobe lights casting pictures into his brain.

He collapsed onto the bed. It could have been seconds or hours. He had no idea. He panted for air, exhausted and soaked with sweat as the grip on his arm slowly released.

"Do you know who I am?" the man with the familiar face asked a moment later, staring at him intently.

A name swam up, accompanied by feelings, memories, sensations.

"Hello, John," he said a moment later, knowing without doubt that it was his own brother standing before him.

"Do you know who you are?" his brother asked.

More memories, more sensations, a sense of knowledge, of self, similar to that of being Captain, but different, vastly different. "My name is Gregor Sizen, and I was born on the Switchback colony on Mars. I'm twenty eight years old, and you're my younger brother, John Sizen." He sucked in a deep breath. "Holy fucking shit."

"Hello, brother," John replied, tears now in his eyes. "It's been a long three years."

"What the fuck happened to me?" Gregor asked, exploring himself as if seeing a new person for the very first time. Even his own body felt strange.

"You were lifted by slavers, and sold to a man called Argon Storm. You know him as Bump," John explained. "Bump has some rather exotic tastes and a lot of credits to his name. He'd bought a programme for controlling prisoners on the penal colonies and adapted it to create a crew for his ship, namely you and your four friends."

Gregor realised that all his Captain memories were still there, that Captain was still a part of him. "He's still in here. Captain's still here," he stammered.

John held up his hands. "I know. We couldn't risk removing the device until we knew how it all worked in case you stroked out on us or something. We still haven't got it figured out, but we knew enough to put your memories back in, bring you back to life."

Gregor's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me, John?"

"Nothing that can't wait. Right now we've got a problem to sort out first." John said firmly. "As I'm sure you've realised, Bump is no moron. Ever since he started this little enterprise he's had three ships patrolling just outside your sensor range, keeping an eye out for pirates or people like me. We took out one of them earlier, but the other two will be closing in imminently, and I need your help."

"My help?" Gregor asked. He knew his brother, and knew that he was speaking truthfully, but didn't know what he could do in this state.

"Well, more specifically your crews help," John stated flatly. "I need your twins to man our port and starboard guns, and I need you and your co-pilot up in the cockpit. The AI we've been using to fly this thing is very limited, and we need the help."

"How many crew have you got?" Gregor demanded.

"There's me and Thugly here, but he'll be on the top gun turret, and there's Flams and Spark in engineering, but they're no fighters, and that's it."

"Four of you?" Gregor was amazed that they could fly their ship with only a crew of four, let alone take out their craft too. "Wait. Do they have their memories back too?"

John shook his head, his hands moving to unfasten the restraints on Gregors wrists. "No. It took us two years to find yours, and we don't have theirs yet, but we'll find them. In the meantime, they still know you as Captain, so tell them whatever you have to and get them on side with us, because we need to get prepared and quickly."

"This whole thing's fucking nuts," Gregor said as Thugly pulled him upright. He felt a little woozy, but pulled off the oxygen mask and slid his legs round the side of the bed. "How long was I out for?"

"Ten minutes, tops. You never were a heavy sleeper, Brother," John grinned, ready to catch him if he fell.

He stood up hesitantly, thankfully finding his balance quickly. "Where's my weapon?"

"Out here," John replied, hitting a switch on the wall and helping him out the medical bay into a diamond shaped cargo area. "Okay, you're on the port side of the ship. Up there to your left is the cockpit, and at the other end of the cargo bay is engineering. The other two of our crew are working in there right now.."

Gregor nodded. "Where's my crew?"

"One second," John said. "Now, that door over there on the starboard side is a Gun Bay, and there's another behind you there," he said, pointing to a small hatch next to the medical bay he'd just left. "Come."

Gregor followed John over to three narrow doors on the starboard side of the cargo bay where a heap of their weapons were lying on the floor. He quickly grabbed his pistol belt and jammed a laser-pistol into it, grabbing another in his left hand.

"They're in there," John nodded towards the three doors.

Gregor took a deep breath, and opened the first one, seeing Pilot standing there with a metal chair, ready to clobber him. "Come out. It's okay," he said, and moved to the next door.

He knocked and opened it, and it was immediately slammed back on him, then yanked open. "Easy girls," he managed as the twins leapt out the door. They looked at him, armed and not under threat and they paused.

"Cook," he called, knocking on the other door. "Come on out," he said as he opened it.

His crew were standing looking at him, these four gorgeous women who he'd done all manner of sexual things to and with, and he felt an immediate pang of guilt. They looked at him, trusting him and he had to continue to decieve them for the time being.

"Want to introduce us to your crew?" John suggested pointedly.

"Guys, this is my long-lost brother, John Sizen, and the large chap behind him is called Thugly. It's a long story that we don't have time to go into at present, but they're rescuing us, and now they need our help. Arm up."

"Rescuing us?" Pilot said, her tone rich with sarcasm. "You're kidding?"

"No, I'm not. Now listen up," he said firmly. "Gunner, Guarder, there's port and starboard Gun Bays. I need you guys in them, while Thugly here takes the top gun. Pilot and I are going up to the cockpit and we're to help fly it."

"Where's the rest of the crew?" Cook demanded, picking up her rolling pin.

"There's two of us in Engineering. Spark and Flams. They'll do whatever we need from there. You can meet them later," John said quickly. "Can we move now, Captain?"

Gregor whirled round, seeing the message in his brothers gaze. "Yes. All troops report to your posts."

"Where do you want me, Captain?" Cook asked quickly.

"Come with us," he ordered, following John to the cockpit. Pilot and Cook fell in behind them, and they entered a sleek and efficient cockpit with four chairs, each marked with Pilot and Co-Pilot, Comms and in the centre, Command.

Without thinking, Gregor hopped into the Command chair, while Pilot headed straight for the seat with her name on it. Thankfully John said nothing and slid into the Co-Pilots chair, while Cook looked around.

"So we're expecting a battle, Captain?" Pilot asked, her fingers flickering over the console in front of her.

"Yes. John has the details of what we're facing," Gregor replied.

"Nothing like an imminent battle to make a girl horny," Cook said behind them.

"Not now," Gregor said quickly. "Sit in that chair, and see if you can get the Comms working."

"I've got them," John said. "They're up now throughout the ship."

"This is Captain," Gregor said immediately. "Report in."

"Port Gun Bay ready," Gunner replied immediately.

"Starboard Gun Bay ready," Guarder added.

There was a pause of a few seconds before Thugly's voice joined in. "Em, Top Gun Bay is ready to kick some ass."

"Engineering?" Captain asked, not sure if he would get a response.

"Hi, Captain," a high-pitched woman answered. "I'm Spark. Engineering is ready. You've got full power at your disposal any time you want it."

"Flams?" John asked.

"Yeah?" a male answered, almost tentative in it's tone.

"What are we facing?"

"Let me see. We've got two Saryan class ships headed our way from Port and directly in front of us. Port one should be here in a minute, with the other about forty seconds behind it, sir."

Gregor's mind pulled up a mental image of a Saryan Warship. Sleek, agile, with plenty firepower, but most of the power was soaked up by it's guns and engines, so it didn't have strong shields.

"Hit the first one with everything we've got, then about turn, full shields to the rear?" Gregor suggested, and John nodded. Pilot took it as an order.

"Turning towards the first target to intercept, Captain," she said.

"Fuck," Gregor mouthed silently. "Okay, all gun batteries to target the Saryan Warship as soon as it's in range. Engineering, I want ful shields to the front, and then as soon as we reverse course, full thrust and maximum shields to the rear."

"No bother, Captain," Spark squeaked over the intercom.

The seconds dragged by as they rapidly closed on the first vessel. "Fire!"

The three batteries opened fire simultaneously, firng off a range of laser-cannons and missiles, and within seconds Pilot had the ship racing back in the opposite direction.

"Shields at max," Spark reported.

"They're closing, Captain," Pilot reported.

"Repeat maneuvre," Gregor ordered. "Max shields to the front, batteries engage the target. Pilot, head straight for them."

The ship flipped on it's end and drove towards the incoming target. Their maneuvre took their enemy by surprise and after another half a dozen blasts from the three gun positions, Flams announced their shields were down. Seconds later the ship was destroyed.

"Pilot, put us between their debris and the incoming threat," Gregor ordered, a cunning plan springing to mind. "Crew, as soon as we're in their debris, I want shields and engines offline. Only power to the weapons."

"That's a dodgy call," John warned. "One hit and we're fucked."

"They'll never see us," Gregor explained. "We got jumped by a similar trick a year ago and had to dump our cargo."

John looked at him, his eyes full of doubt, but a moment later he nodded.

Pilot's fingers manipulated the controls and quickly got the former military ship into the debris field.

"Thrusters and shields offline," Spark reported, still sounding as excited as she was a few minutes before the battle.

"Fire only on my command," Gregor told the three gun batteries. He knew that Gunner and Guarder would only fire when he told them to, but he didn't know how Thugly was at following orders. He hoped he'd be as disciplined as the twins were.

They watched the other Saryan Warship close on their position, first travelling rapidly then much slower. Occasionally they got a reading from a sensor sweep, but from the debris field, it probably looked like both vessels had been destroyed, and that would confuse the enemy captain.

"Standby," Gregor warned his three gunners. "When I give the command to engage the enemy I want full shields straight back up, then power to the thrusters, Spark. Understand?"

"Ready when you are."

The wait until they were inside missile and laser-cannon range was agonising, and more than once John, Pilot and Cook turned to see what he was waiting for. It was simple for Gregor. He wanted them so close that they couldn't miss.

"All posts standby," he said, pausing to take a deep breath. "Fire!"

The ship shuddered as the batteries ripped off their fury at the Saryan Warship, firing laser-cannon and missiles repeatedly into the enemy vessel.

At the same time as the thrusters and shields came up Flams announced their enemies shields were down, and Gregor knew it was over. The warship began to explode, adding chunks of debris to the field originated by it's former colleague.

"Pilot, get us clear of the field," he ordered, then turned to his brother. "John, we've got a lot of supplies on board the Bolt-On. Do you want them on board?"

"Good idea, bro."

"Setting course for the Bolt-On, Captain," Pilot said with a sad smile on her face.

"All hands stand down," Captain said, then flicked off the Command console. "That was touch and go there for a minute."

"It sure was," John said, shaking his hand. As Gregor turned he saw Cook sitting in her chair, her hand fiddling inside her trousers, one foot up on the console.

"What?" she replied innocently. " We could've died there, so I wanted to die happy."

While Pilot docked the ship above the Bolt-On, Gregor got the story of what happened to Bump from his brother, John. They had deliberately targetted the engine bay in order to disable the ship, but when they boarded John had found Bump crushed between a bulkhead and a part of the engine. His upper body was nearly severed and his entire chest was a disintegrated mess of bones and skin. He was definitely dead. He was nearly in two pieces.