The Quiet Demise of the Red Wing Pirates
Photo by Ashlee Marie on Unsplash
Captain Bai stood alone in the engine room, a torque wrench in one hand and treason in mind.
The Emperor of the Celestial Planetary System had given him the task of ending the pirate threat to the Outlying settlements, but he’d failed. He’d thought the stellar-tide might finally turn after their most recent battle: by all appearances, he’d had the Red Wing Fleet’s commander besieged without hope of escape.
Then the rogues triggered a star-quake in a nearby magnetar and it was all his crew could do to keep their ship’s life-support systems operational.
It was only after the band of gamma-shielded outlaws slipped past the fumbling Imperial ships that Captain Bai realized their commander, Yeung Litai, had been playing the Imperial fleet like a guzheng.
Not even Captain Bai’s cleverest attack — superheating asteroids drifting through the belt between his armada and the pirate barricade — was effective. The hot rocks should have melted holes through the outlaws’ energy fields like nitric acid dissolves copper, but the pirate commander had been ready for it.
Captain Bai would never forget the sight of several dozen pirates in spacesuits, floating out on tethers to swat the deadly rocks away with bats of scrap metal coated in heat-resistant polymer. And, judging by the obscene gestures the crew made between hits, they even had fun doing it.
How could an Imperial Captain fight a fleet like that?
If he and his crew tried to capture the Crimson Phoenix or kill Yeung Litai again, they’d probably end up like the poor souls aboard the Water Star’s Return.
Captain Bai couldn’t let that happen. He tightened his grip on the wrench and adjusted his stance.
One good blow to the primary coolant valve would force his engineers to shut down the neutronion engine until repairs could be made. Sabotaging his own ship would make Captain Bai a coward and a traitor, but at least his crew would be blameless and, more importantly, alive. Perhaps whoever replaced him as captain would succeed where Bai himself had failed.
He took a deep breath, praying to his ancestors for an alternative, or guidance. When no heavenly intervention descended, he planted his feet and raised the wrench.
For the crew —
“I see pulsars, I see plants, I see someone’s underpants!”
The sing-song chant in a childish voice was the last thing Captain Bai expected to hear right now and he whirled to face the source, astonished to find two kids in high-quality body armor standing near the engine control valves. The older boy was grinning and pointing at the Imperial Captain’s waistband. The younger girl dissolved into giggles.
Behind them, a woman wearing a crimson robe draped over her own armor watched him with calm, calculating eyes.
He’d never seen her before, but the way she picked him apart with a single gaze left no room for doubt regarding her identity. This was the Pirate Queen, the Red Widow, Captain of the Crimson Phoenix — Yeung Litai herself.
“Don’t be rude, Jin,” she said to the older boy. “Captain Bai seemed very focused on his self-sacrificing insanity. Captain, please forgive the interruption. I’m sure if you just hitch your trousers up a few inches, my children will allow you to follow through on your plan for cowardly treason without interference.”
Red dwarf stars burned cooler than Captain Bai’s cheeks in that moment. Of all the ways he could meet the Commander of the Red Sector Pirate Confederation…
He hitched up his pants and tried to regain a semblance of dignity as he demanded, “Why are you here?”
A hundred other questions had crossed his mind. How had she gotten on board without triggering the alarms? How had she known to find him down here when he hadn’t even told his own crew? Why had she brought her children with her on an excursion to her enemy’s ship…? But it seemed most important to understand what she wanted.
“I’m here to negotiate a surrender,” she replied.
Captain Bai gritted his teeth. Sabotaging his own ship for the sake of his crew was one thing, but ruining his family’s legacy by surrendering to a pirate —
“I’d die before surrendering to you,” he growled.
“That makes one of us.”
It took a moment for the implications of that statement to sink in. The Pirate Queen’s daughter burst into hysterical giggles.
Her son smirked, “You should see the look on your face. I don’t think he believes it. But it’s true. We’re here to surrender.”
The words rang in Captain Bai’s ears. Was it even possible? The Red Wing Fleet was undefeated. Why would they surrender?
“To be clear,” the children’s mother added, “I haven’t stopped being a pirate, yet. This is still a raid, and you and your crew are still at my mercy, but this time, I’m here to take a full pardon, a generous pension, and a small risk. In exchange, I help you rid the Red Sector of every last pirate drifting on the tides of space. Any questions? No?”
She motioned for her children to follow her out of the engine room. “Then let’s continue this negotiation somewhere more comfortable.”
Captain Bai followed in a daze, not quite able to decide if he should thank his ancestors or curse his fate. He tugged the hem of his uniform’s shirt down so it covered his waistline.
***
Ten solar cycles ago, there was no Red Widow or Pirate Queen or Red Wing Fleet. Some influential men may have been distantly aware that the woman who owned and operated the Sweet Poppy pleasure ship was clever and ambitious but wouldn’t have named her as a potential leader of an outlaw confederation. Most were simply irritated and embarrassed that her Ladies of the Night had been able to hack their personal data accounts and profit off whatever secrets they stole. None could have imagined what she might become.
None except, perhaps, Commander Zhey, recently returned from fighting as a privateer in the Korshan Civil War. Dozens of legends surrounded the early romance between Commander Zhey and Yeung Litai. Some say he kidnapped her, then fell in love and conceded half his worldly wealth when he proposed. Others say she intended to seduce him and extort his secrets but softened in the face of his handsome smile and charming vision of their future together as romantic partners.
From what Captain Bai knew of them both, he had a difficult time believing their alliance was anything but pure, calculated strategy rooted in mutual ambition. Their son, Jin, was born on The Crimson Phoenix and legend said he’d been on the bridge for over a dozen battles before he could even walk.
Whatever the nature of their familial affairs, no one could deny that the alliance made Zhey’s Red Wing fleet the strongest in the sector. Captain Bai had read the shipping reports from the third solar cycle after their union: out of the 378 shipments of enriched processing chips and lithanium ore traveling through Red Wing territory, only 23 made it to their destination with the cargo unclaimed.
When Commander Zhey died in a solar-storm three cycles later, some hoped the loss might drive Yeung Litai back to the pleasure trade, or at least send the Red Wing Fleet into disarray.
But it didn’t.
***
The two pirate children sat at one end of the glass holo-table in Captain Bai’s strategy room, entertaining themselves while the adults discussed matters of life and death. A combination of uncomfortable Imperial officers and irreverent but friendly pirates lined the walls around them.
Jin was wholly immersed in a drone-piloting game on a handheld simulator — his favorite toy, according to his mother. Occasional laser pips and strains of triumphant sound effects drifted down the table during the negotiation process.
The younger girl (Captain Bai knew from reports that her name was Hoi’wing, but the pirates who’d taken control of his ship called her Mui-Mui) was coloring a picture of the Imperial Flag. What the Emperor would say about all the pink flowers the little girl had added to the design was a topic Captain Bai had no intention of raising.
“You’re asking too much, Commander Yeung,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands. “The full pardon is extreme enough. There are dozens of politicians and merchants who want you and everyone who sails under you to rot in a prison cell on a far-distant moon. If I agree to let you keep your loot, I’m practically endorsing your actions of the past ten years. You can see why I can’t agree to this, right?”
Captain Bai’s pleas met unsympathetic ears. “Captain Bai, my requests aren’t unreasonable. You are far too focused on the past. Your Empire wishes to punish us for crimes already committed or property already taken, but you need to focus on the bigger picture.”
She twirled a stylus between her fingers and reclined in her chair as if bored. “Ten cycles ago,” she continued, “pirates were mere nuisances along the Outlying trade routes. Now, see how far we’ve come. I understand why you’re upset, but this is the only chance your Empire will receive to make this sort of deal.”
When Captain Bai didn’t reply, she leaned forward. “Imagine what my fleet could be in another ten cycles. Imagine my daughter designing a different flag. Imagine that flag flying over the Imperial Palace. Your Emperor is surely reasonable enough to forgive the past, if I’m reasonable enough to forego that future.”
Captain Bai swallowed and looked down at her demands. “Alright. I’ll consider it. Full pardons for the Pirate Confed — ”
“The Red Wing Fleet,” she corrected, tapping the relevant line of the contract.
Captain Bai frowned. The Red Sector Pirate Confederation was comprised of four different Fleets — not just Red. True, the White Wing Fleet had been all but demolished by recent attacks, but the Black and Gray Wing Fleets were — if anything — stronger and deadlier than ever before. Yet Yeung Litai wasn’t including them in her agreement.
“See?” she half-smiled. “You’re not pardoning every pirate. Only a mere quarter of them. The rest can be punished at will.”
Behind her, a member of her crew chuckled ominously.
Captain Bai opened his mouth to voice a suspicion, but was interrupted when the door burst open and a young man in gleaming red armor strode in.
“What’d I miss?” he asked, walking straight over to the Pirate Queen’s chair.
“Forget the past, forego the future… Captain Bai was deep in the process of consideration,” Yeung Litai explained as the man massaged her shoulders and peered down at the holo-documents strewn across the table.
“Great.” The armored man kissed the cheek of the most ruthless pirate in the Empire and said, “I’ll go check on the kids.”
This, Captain Bai knew, was Chang Rey: notorious raider, Commander Zhey’s apprentice, and Yeung Litai’s second husband.
The man who’d stripped merchant vessels to the bones and threatened to wipe settlements off their satellites folded himself into the seat next to his daughter and ruffled her hair before asking about her pink-flowers drawing and their invasion of the Imperial ship.
“Captain Bai needs a better belt,” Jin snorted over the sound-effects from his game.
Captain Bai blushed and kept his gaze on the negotiation.
***
Commander Zhey and Yeung Litai had been — unquestionably — the best pirates in the sky, but after Zhey died, the question of who would take command of his ship and fleet was a delicate one. The commanders of other pirate brigades eyed the Red Wing hungrily. One monstrous raider even offered to step in and lead himself, if the poor Red Widow couldn’t handle it.
She responded with assurances that she could handle it, in no uncertain terms. Certain challengers were likely still floating through the black vastness.
Yeung Litai and Chang Rey married within weeks of Commander Zhey’s death and their daughter was born within a narrow enough window that some even challenged the circumstances of Zhey’s untimely demise. Quietly, of course, and very, very far away from the happy newlyweds and their precious newborn girl.
The Red Sector Pirate Confederation was formed shortly after. Captain Bai tried to imagine the commanders of other pirate fleets getting a polite call from the jovial Chang Rey:
“Hello, would you like to join our merry band of pirates and become obscenely rich and powerful?”
“Sounds good! What’s the catch!”
“Yeung Litai is in charge.”
“A woman? I dunno how I feel about that…”
“Alright, you can take some time to think it over. Oh, by the way, the Red Wing Fleet has you surrounded. We look forward to hearing from you soon, have a nice day!”
Yeung Litai didn’t hesitate to exercise her power, either. All members of the Pirate Confederation were subject to her Code of Law. If a pirate sailing under her command harmed someone who surrendered, abused a prisoner, or withheld loot from the communal fund, punishments ranged from severe fines to execution without trial.
After she established her own system of protection-taxes and passports for trade, her people hardly needed to plunder vessels or port-settlements at all. Traders developed a mnemonic to help them remember the new protocol:
PIRATE — Passports (from Yeung Litai), Itinerary (confirmed by Red Sector Pirate Confederacy), Regulations (conform to Imperial Standard), Assessment (of cargo and ship), Taxes (paid to Empire and Red Sector), Engage in trade.
Yeung Litai’s power grew at an extraordinary rate until she commanded over nearly 2,000 ships and around 50,000 pirates. The four Wings — Red, White, Gray, and Black — functioned under their own leaders, for the most part, but all paid tribute and were maintained by the Confederation’s infrastructure.
By the time the Empire took notice, the pirates were simply too rich, well-organized, and deadly to defeat.
Yet, now, Yeung Litai was surrendering. Captain Bai couldn’t help but wonder why.
***
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m afraid this point isn’t negotiable.”
“None of your points seem negotiable.”
“You catch on quick.”
“The Emperor won’t accept this.”
“He won’t accept an influx of capable and courageous space-faring soldiers dedicated to Imperial prosperity and upholding Imperial law?”
“He won’t let known pirates sail around as Imperial military officers!”
“Not officers,” Chang Rey cut in from further down the table. “We’ll join up like any other recruits and climb the ranks like everyone else. I, personally, would be honored to sail under you, Commander Bai.”
Captain Bai looked back down at the contract and noticed the indicated preference for training and serving in the Red Sector, under his very own command.
Great. Just great.
“And you?” he asked, glancing back at Yeung Litai.
Her lips quirked up again. “I consider myself better suited to business. But I would, of course, be happy to advise you if you need any support.”
Captain Bai groaned and looked down. “Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll think about it. What else?”
The overwhelming fog of helplessness and fatigue that had settled over Captain Bai’s mind felt like it could be spread over toast and eaten.
“I want to convert a dozen of the Red Wing’s ships into government-sponsored mercenary vessels under my own command.”
“You can’t be serious!”
Captain Bai sprang to his feet and started to pace. “I’ve agreed to everything else — everything — but you can’t honestly think that I — ”
“I’m in!” Jin whooped from further down the table, finally lifting his head from his drone-piloting game.
He turned his game platform around to reveal, oddly enough, a wedding. The camera panned across people in all sorts of finery with curated floral arrangements on tables covered in white tablecloths and a buffet laden with hors d’oeuvres.
“Well done, Jin,” Yeung Litai murmured, nodding once at her son as she extended her hand to take the game. He beamed as he passed it over. “Why don’t you and your sister go with Rey to get a snack from the commissary.”
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “It can’t be better than what Chef Devroux makes!”
“Yes, but your last meal was this morning, and it consisted mostly of sugarberry muffins and barely a sip of your algae-shake — don’t think I didn’t notice, princess — so it’s probably time for some real food, right?” Chang Rey said in the immortal tones of fathers across the Interplanetary Empire.
Chagrinned, the little girl hopped down from her seat and followed him to the door. Jin trailed after.
Chang Rey paused before leaving to kiss his wife on the head and squeeze her shoulder. “I love you no matter what. You know that, right?”
She took his hand and kissed it briefly. “I love you too.”
When they were gone, she turned back to Captain Bai and offered the kind of polite smile a tiger would give a rabbit. “Please forgive the interruption.”
“Of course!” Captain Bai laughed, throwing up his hands. “Interrupt all you’d like! It’s not as if this conversation was going anywhere anyways. There’s no possible way I could agree to your demands! A full pardon for your entire fleet? Letting you keep all your loot? Giving your husband and any of your crew who want it the opportunity to join the Imperial military? And letting you keep twelve pirate ships to use in the name of the Emperor? No! It’s too much! It’s impossible! It’s ridiculous! It’s — ”
Yeung Litai didn’t speak, but turned the image on the screen around and directed the drone’s camera across the group of wedding guests, then to the happy couple themselves.
“Your brother’s child, correct?”
It was.
“They’re an adorable couple,” she continued. “It’s a shame your duty prevented you from attending the ceremony. I really do wish them many long years of happiness, together. Unfortunately, if you don’t sign that agreement on behalf of the Emperor, their lives will end before our meeting does. Eight other drones, armed like this one, have infiltrated the homes and workplaces where the families of other influential government officials are. On my signal, the selected targets die and my crew and I will go to war against the Empire.”
She stared at him. “I told you earlier that I would take a full pardon, a generous retirement pension, and a small risk. This is the risk. I do not want to be a monster if I can avoid it. I do not enjoy killing noncombatants or children. I do not take pride in any suffering I cause. The goal of this negotiation is to minimize that, as much as possible. However...”
Her gaze was glacial.
“The Emperor has made it clear that he has no regard for my life or the lives of my loved ones. He would kill me and my children and my crew in a heartbeat, given the chance. So I cannot allow that chance.”
A flicker of rage danced behind the ice of her eyes.
“You have a choice, Captain Bai. Sign this document on behalf of your Emperor. Let me and my family live out our days in peace as law abiding servants of the Emperor. Or don’t and accept that, for the sake of my children, I will become an unfathomable nightmare. I will end thousands of innocent lives, starting with your family on what should be their happiest day. At a certain point, your Empire may be strong enough, or brave enough, or lucky enough to defeat me, but rivers of blood and tears will flow until that time.”
Captain Bai couldn’t detect so much as a hint of remorse in her expression.
“Sign the document, Captain Bai. Choose peace.”
He remembered standing in the engine bay, torque wrench in hand, feeling helpless against the pirates, praying for some other solution.
And here it was.
Right next to a stomach-churning threat.
Dignity, really, was what it would cost to sign. And what was dignity compared to all the lives that could be saved if a war was averted?
He lifted his stylus and scrawled his name. When his personal seal came down on the agreement, the Red Sector Pirate Confederation ended. Yeung Litai was given everything she asked for.
On the screen in the Pirate Queen’s hands, the newlyweds lifted champagne glasses to toast the happy occasion.
***
Commander Bai met Lieutenant Chang Rey at the port outside the Imperial Military Training Base.
“Nice belt,” Chang grinned. “Sir.”
Commander Bai snorted. “It was a gift. From your wife.”
They caught up on news during the journey to the Outlying region of the Red Sector: Bai’s brother’s child had moved into a new apartment on a classy satellite with their partner. Chang’s kids had both received awards recently — Mui-Mui for art, and Jin in a coding competition. Yeung Litai’s casino had just been reviewed as the best new entertainment venue in the Red Sector.
“Can you tell me why, now?” Commander Bai asked, when the conversation lulled. Their compartment in the transport ship was relatively private, and the two men had shared enough beer that any old enmity between them had dissolved entirely.
“Why what?”
“Why she surrendered. Why she stopped being a pirate.”
“Oh.” Chang took another long swig of beer. “You remember the battle with the asteroids and the magnetar quake?”
Commander Bai snorted. “Not likely to forget that.”
Chang didn’t laugh. “She called me the moment she saw you coming. I came. Did the barricade thing. And when we realized you had backup, we called the Black Wing Fleet.”
Commander Bai blinked. “I thought they were out of range.”
The pirate-turned-lieutenant sighed through his nose. “Nope. Just treacherous. We got lucky with that magnetar thing, but we shouldn’t have needed to. Litai realized our bargaining power wouldn’t be as strong after the Empire learned of our infighting. She was right. Plus, most pirates don’t grow old.”
The buttons on Chang Rey’s military uniform gleamed in the lights of the transport. Commander Bai’s beer sloshed in its cup when a solar current rocked the ship. Silence reigned for a moment.
“I heard the Black Wing Fleet had a problem with their navigation, shortly after our agreement was signed. One of our patrol platoons was chasing them and they flew right into the rings of Iluaii. Obliterated most of them, and the survivors were arrested on the other side.”
“Really?” Chang Rey smirked. “Huh. Interesting news, sir.”
“Isn’t it just,” Commander Bai said wryly. “You know, I’m considering stopping by the Phoenix’s Rest Casino and Resort on the way to our post. Think your wife would be interested in hearing the details of a smuggling operation out of Terr Port?”
Chang Rey darted a pointed look at his belt. “Think she doesn’t already know?”
Thanks for reading! This story was inspired by a Monday Mash-Up prompt set by Jonathon Sawyer on Medium. Other great Mash-Up stories include ones written by Nick Struutinsky and CK Green. In this challenge, I used the following aspects of the prompt:
Pirates crash a wedding (using a drone, but it counts)
The Imperial flag has pink flowers drawn on it
The mnemonic PIRATE helps traders remember to pay Yeung Litai
Captain Bai's mind-fog is thick enough to spread on toast
Jin's favorite toy is a drone-control program
Mui-Mui's most recent ("last") meal was mostly muffins
Bai's bad idea to break his own ship is shut down by the underwear song
Syllepsis/Zeguma: take a pardon, take a pension, take a riskThis story was based on the true story of the pirate Zheng Yi Sao who lived, married twice, mothered several children, and controlled the waters around Hong Kong from about 1803 to 1810. After striking her deal with the Qing Empire representatives, she retired to live out the rest of her days in luxury and peace.
