SMT snippet 5

I think it's 5.... lol Sorry, been distracted.

Anyway sitrep:
-Dad is being sprung from the hospital as I type this. They are just waiting on paperwork. He's got 1 less toe but he's eager to get out to get a shower. lol

-I just sent Shiver Me Timbers to Goodlifeguide.com for final formatting.

-I am nearly done Act II of Blockade. 1 chapter left. I've been procrastinating a little about it.

And on to the snippet!

Chapter 4

 

Pell looked at his team. He'd managed to keep a solid core of people together, all humans of course. That sucked but it was what it was. They'd even pulled in some toughs and retirees and put them back in uniform. When things had started sliding further and further south, they'd put any volunteer they could get into uniform—even ship's police that had been trapped on the station when the base had been quarantined.

At this point any volunteer was welcome if they could keep a straight face and stand a post. But it was getting tough out there; he knew that.

Which was why he was starting to pull his best and put them in armor. He didn't have a lot of armor, but what he had he fully intended to use to crack heads and make some examples. Only when the survivors were cowed would they get order fully restored.

He grimaced at the sight of the bodies. Some were being spaced, but some were piling up. There were so many … and the pickpockets rifling the dead were terrible. He turned away, turning a blind eye on images of people rifling the dead and dying rather than trying to help—sick, just sickening.

But, oh so normal for his people he thought as sighed mentally.

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Troy, Sammy, and Ned all looked on to the people around them. “I'm telling you, this shit is crazy,” Ned murmured.

“Crazy doesn't cover it,” Sammy said with a grimace. Both he and Ned worked the ports moving cargo. In their off time, they occasionally worked the back alleys of Tortuga looking for “spare change,” their euphemism for mugging drunks.

Troy Nakumora grunted. He had helped them shanghai a few people, press-ganging them into service of one ship or another. He'd done it because he'd been in too deep to refuse … and because he'd been afraid of what the two would do to him had he backed out.

He'd also had heard about what had happened to Burke and a few of the others who were in Sammy and Ned's line of work. Only the fact that the duo hadn't broken into the late Doctor Wilhelm's market just yet and that they'd led the mob to string up Burke had kept their hands clean.

And now they were doing their best to play the part of innocent people trapped in the situation. For the most part, that was true.

For someone like him, someone whose mother had been a dancer and a slave brought to Tortuga for “entertainment,” to get out of the slave pits and gladiator arena alive was a very special achievement. It had, in some part, been due to his late father's will. His late father had apparently genuinely loved his mother Natasha and had left his booty to her to take care of her and Troy when he was gone.

When his mother had died, he'd tried to gamble the dwindling savings and had lost it all. So, he'd been working odd jobs and keeping one step ahead of people like Sammy and Ned ever since.

“I think the admiral has a plan. We've got the plagues contained, right?” Ned asked as he took a sip of tepid beer. Where he'd gotten it was a mystery to Troy. Ned wasn't apparently in the mood to share his stash or secret.

“Yeah, for the moment,” Sammy said darkly. Order was breaking down in parts of Tortuga far more than usual. There were a lot less people of course. The remains of the shore patrol were not above cracking heads if someone got too uppity with them. But they were turning a blind eye to crime. “But if you think the admiral's going to save us I want some of whatever you are drinking,” he said with a shake of his head. “Keep dreaming.”

“There has to be a plan. Even if there isn't, we're all human,” Troy said looking at the others. “We're immune. We can ride it out and then clean up.”

“You really think they'll reopen the port once the only ones left are humans?” Ned asked. He looked over to Sammy. “I'm telling you, we need to find someone who can fly a shuttle and get the hell out of here.”

“And go where?”

“We're humans so we're immune, right? We let the ships out there know and someone's bound to take us in! We pack it with enough people; maybe sweeten the deal with some geegaws and booty.”

Troy shook his head and threw his hands up as he walked away. “You two do what you want.”

“You ain't in?”

“Nah. I'll come up with my own thing. I need to do some checking first,” Troy said as he walked off shaking his head.

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