Of Men and Spiders

Lucy was on a call with several of the captains working under her newly established command. Some were clearly worried, while others seemed to have no idea what was happening. Of course, Captain Roberts was one of the ones picking up on what was wrong. "Have you seen the way they're moving their shipping lanes about? This is clearly a trap."

Bastian grunted as he looked over the data Roberts had sent through. "Huh, at first, I just assumed they were trying to avoid old lanes to be unpredictable, but you might be right. That placement is pretty odd..."

One of the more minor, less experienced captains proved his inexperience by speaking. "Eh, they're probably just panicking. We've taken enough money out of their pockets. They're just struggling to keep everyone in line, is all. It's all for show."

Roberts was not amused by the casual disregard of what was happening. "Don't let a few successes go to your head! If you think we've been more than an inconvenience to Drake until now, you're deluded as well as arrogant! He's got the resources to wage a war the likes of which we are not prepared for. A man doesn't become the king of a small nation of his own making by panicking every time something goes wrong, and underestimating him could kill us all!"

Lucy finally cut in. "Enough arguing. We always knew Drake wouldn't just sit back and let us rob him blind. Roberts is correct, this is an obvious and heavy-handed trap, but it's also a message. He's calling our bluff and showing he's got time and resources we can't hope to match. Attacking any of these shipping lanes would be suicide, and he knows it. Additionally, we can assume Drake's men have orders to ignore small vessels, so we won't be baiting them out with something like the old stranded shuttle gambit."

A few of the pirates grumbled at the mention of the play that brought them into contact with Lucy, sometimes a little less voluntarily than they would have preferred, but Lucy ignored them. "However, he's taking a defensive stance, meaning we're still in control as of now, and we need to capitalize on that while it lasts."

Bastian looked confused. "Capitalize how?"

Lucy popped up a display of one of Drake's centralized trading hubs. They were space stations meant to extend their reach into the region both through the strength of trade and arms. "We strike where no one has hit the old man before!"

That got a few people's attention, but not necessarily in a good way. Roberts seemed unconvinced. "There's a reason no one's hit one of his hubs before. They're practically fortresses backed up by literal fleets of ships. Even my battleship couldn't contend with the kind of firepower he could bring to bear from those stations. Cracking one of those would take a literal army."

Lucy grinned. "Where do you think he's gotten the ships to protect those shipping lanes? Sure, there will be some left as a deterrent, but they'll be the slowest ships he's got, the ones that couldn't get to an ambush in time. All you'll need to do is draw what's left of the fleet away from the station; I'll handle the rest. It'll be a minimal risk to you all. I'll be the one taking all the risks here."

Roberts still seemed wary, but he finally seemed to relent. "Well, I still think the plan is foolhardy, but you are right. The risks are minor compared to the potential spoils..."

With Roberts willingness to hear her out, Lucy knew she had the rest in the palm of her hand. If she was the brains of this venture, he was the heart. Something about having a literal battleship as a rallying point gave the rest courage, and he'd quickly become the voice for everyone else when addressing Lucy. A lesser captain might have feared he'd try to usurp her position, but she knew the man didn't have ambitions of that nature.

With possession of a battleship, he could have quickly amassed a force large enough to become a real power in the region, but until now, his standards had held him back. His unwillingness to work with what he considered corrupt government officials or prey on those he deemed weak meant he was barely breaking even with operating costs. Of course, the men under his command agreed with his philosophy, but that didn't mean they weren't hungry for more. So long as she could provide substantial successes without asking them to compromise their standards, Lucy knew Roberts would remain loyal, and as long as she had Roberts, she had the rest.

However, she also knew he'd throw her to the wolves in an instant if he thought she was playing too fast or loose with him or his men. But that was fine by Lucy. Her plan called for a more surgical strike anyway.

After a few more explanations, the meeting came to a close. Everyone was on board for now, and all it would take to keep them that way was for her to pull off the impossible.

Charlotte, who's been watching everything with considerable interest, was somewhat bemused. "Getting a group of humans to unite on anything seems to stretch the bounds of the impossible, yet you seem to accomplish it with relative ease."

Lucy shook her head. "Oh, it's far from easy, even for me. The secret is to know your audience, appeal to their self-interests, and perhaps most importantly, to deliver. So long as I can continue to deliver successes and profits, they'll follow my lead."

That seemed to make Charlotte thoughtful for some reason, as her only response was one word. "Interesting..."

-

Cleo sat on her bed with her knees drawn up under her chin and stared at the spider in the corner of her room. As usual, it wasn't moving other than to keep an eye on her, but now she knew there was more going on than appearances suggested. After a few minutes like that, she decided she'd had enough and slid over to the corner of the bed. "Alright. Are you just gonna stand there and still play dumb?"

Of course, the spider didn't respond. That kind of pissed Cleo off a little more. "I'm talking to you, 'Charlotte!' Don't pretend you can't hear or understand me!"

Still silence. Cleo rolled her eyes and sat back. "Still nothing? What, am I not worthy of your time?"

After another moment of silence, Cleo was about to give up, but then there was a chime at her door. Did the spider go and get Scott or Alice when she started speaking to it? Or was the timing just luck? In Cleo's experience, luck was rarely to be trusted.

With a final huff of indignation directed at the still-silent spider, Cleo walked over to the door and opened it. She was surprised to see no one waiting. She leaned out and looked both ways down the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone. Was it possible Alice had just done a ding-dong ditch? Was the girl fast enough to pull it off?

Just as Cleo was about to close the door, a voice spoke to her from considerably lower than she'd anticipated. "You wished to speak with me?"

Looking down, Cleo yelped and jumped back from the spider on the floor. It was still large by spider standards but otherwise small for a Charlotte. Cleo took a breath to steady herself. "Well, I was trying to speak to the one in my room, yeah, but it was just ignoring me."

The spider spoke. It was surprisingly clear and loud for its compact size. "That appendage is not equipped with the capacity to produce the vibrations you call speech. However, this one is more than capable of responding to your inquiries."

Cleo paused. That was an odd way to word things, but then again, they are aliens. She shook her head and decided to let it go. "Yeah, sure. It's nothing big; I was just trying to get to know my roommate a little more, is all."

The spider seemed to consider her words. "What would you like to know?"

This was all just a little too weird for Cleo, and she shook her head. "Listen, if we're gonna talk like this, can we not do it in the hallway? Why don't you come in, and we'll talk like normal...ish people."

The spider considered this again for a moment but seemed to agree. "Very well. As you please."

With that, Cleo stepped to the side, and the spider walked into her room. Completely unafraid of her even though she could easily stomp on it and end its life. To be fair, to do so would probably mean the end of her own, but still, she couldn't help but be a little impressed by just how ballsy the little thing was.