Free The Terran Privateer by Glynn Stewart

authority.”
    The transmission left, carrying with it any hope of a free Earth. All he could do now was wait.
    The response came surprisingly quickly—the strange alien must have responded as soon as he received the message. It seemed there was some urgency on the other side.
    “Admiral Villeneuve,” Tan!Shallegh greeted him. “I accept your surrender with your noted codicils. I would have preferred to have reached this point without loss of life, but I understand the weight of oaths.
    “My soldiers will be arriving to secure your station in a few minutes. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

Chapter 9
     
    Tornado emerged into an empty void, roughly halfway between Sol and Alpha Centauri. With no stars within light-years, the light from the dissipating hyperspace portal was the only source of color.
    When it faded, only the cruiser’s running lights picked out anything around them—but there wasn’t much to pick out. A scattering of loose dust, as lost between the stars as they were.
    Annette grimaced. If even she was mentally devolving into goth poetry, her crew was probably worse. They’d just cut and run from the fight for their home, abandoning their world in the face of an apparently unstoppable enemy.
    She needed them sharp and thinking.
    “Rolfson,” she snapped. “I want your department on the Dark Eye data and whatever that dump from BugWorks was. I’ll unlock it for you as soon as I get a chance, but also make sure your people get a meal into them first.
    “There’s no point in rushing anything.” She sighed and shook her head. “No point at all, really. Unless something comes up, I won’t expect a briefing until tomorrow evening.”
    “Understood, ma’am,” the bearded officer said slowly. “Anything in particular we should look for?”
    “Think like a pirate, Harold,” Annette said dryly. “Mainly? As much detail on where we’re likely to find anything out here as you can pull together.”
    “Arrr, ma’am,” he replied. It was a sad, pathetic, thing—but it was an attempt at humor that got a few weak smiles from the bridge crew.
    “Chan, I’m going to need an all-hands announcement,” she told her com officer. “Our people need to know what’s going on.”
    The tiny Chinese woman tapped a few commands on her screen then looked up at Annette and nodded silently.
    “People, this is Captain Bond,” Annette said into her headset microphone. “I know not to underestimate the rumor mill. I should have told you before, but I think we’re all still in a bit of shock.”
    They had been in hyperspace for hours, but she didn’t think anyone had done anything but stare at their screens in that time. She certainly hadn’t.
    “As the rumor mill has had plenty of time to spread, we have left the Sol system. While the battle was ongoing when we left, I have no reason to believe we were victorious. It is almost certain that the full Weber Protocols have been activated and we are now the last remaining capital ship of the United Earth Space Force.”
    She paused, letting that sink in.
    “While I’m sure there are doubters among you, I can’t imagine most of you think I made this choice on my own. We received orders prior to the engagement with the A-tuck-Tol to do just this. Admiral Villeneuve has provided an authorization and mission once known as a letter of marque and reprisal.
    “We have been charged to become privateers, seeking out and capturing A-tuck-Tol shipping and technology. My orders are to raid military shipping, steal technology and learn about our enemy.
    “Our final objective is to gather enough knowledge and technology to be able to return to Earth and drive the A-tuck-Tol from our world. This will take time. This will take effort, blood, sweat and tears from us all.
    “Our mission may well end in our deaths, far from home and forgotten,” she warned her people. “But we are also Earth’s only remaining hope.”
    She paused, wondering if there was more