DEAD or ALIVE
C68,000,000 REWARD
Notify THE GRAND ADMIRAL of the TERRAN STAR NAVY
Hammer, short for Hanmerylinezephyleer (Han-MER-uh-lin-Zef-uh-Leer), is a former member of the Neptunian Skyguard and one of the first Neptunian members of the Devil's Fang Pirates. One of the younger members of the crew, Hammer is hopeful for what she and her team can achieve together, casting a bright ray of sunlight on a crew who had thought for years that an untimely death was a certain end for their story. She has a very relaxed and easygoing personality, getting along well with new people and generally finding the flow to go with easily enough. She likes to talk tech, prone to going on tangents about historical military hardware and the civilian applications they inspired. That's not everyone's cup of tea, but she's intuitive enough to recognize the vibe of her present company and will usually pull some other topic out of her bag when it feels like people don't wanna hear about warships and proton cannons.
One of the most notable features about Shipwreck Hammer is the contraption she wears on her back. A limitation of Neptunian physiology is the range of motion their arms are capable of- since their shoulders are forward-set they are very useful for maneuvering in tight spaces and sprinting on all fours, but they have a hard time opening their arms wide the way other species of Sol are able to. Also, while their lack of thumbs isn't an active detriment to their ability to build or use things, it's sometimes nice to be able to just grip something one-handed. Hammer's solution is a piece of hardware she dreamed up herself, a back-mounted pair of Terran-style arms controlled by a set of gauntlets worn on her forearms; gestures made with her claws translate into movements in her mechanical arms, allowing her to grab, lift and hold things too large for an unassisted Neptunian to manage. The arms are built so they can fold up on her back- elbows drawn backwards, fingers interlocking and forming a shell over the backpack itself, allowing her to carry it through tight tunnels and narrow spaces.
As a Skyguardian Hammer is trained in the use of standard issue weaponry and close-quarters combat, and as a shiphand she is a capable cannoneer, operating the heavy cannons a Skyguard starship is equipped with. It was actually her role as a cannoneer which inspired her to come up with her Heavy Loader Frame, making the job of loading and maintaining a ship's defensive hardware that much easier. Battle-tested in a skirmish with Andromedans outside Plutonian orbit, Hammer learned how to incorporate her HL Frame into her close-quarters combat, developing maneuvers like a two-fisted forward punch while she's in a low quadruped stance or grabbing an opponent and holding them in place to rake with her sharp Neptunian claws. She's become a bit of a grappler from a species who are not known to be very grabby. Naturally, all of these qualities make Shipwreck Hammer a welcome addition to the Devil's Fang family.
Many Neptunians know about the Old Myths, the stories passed down among the raptor-like Medileer that their kind hailed from a distant blue planet, and that a return to this planet was their divine right. Not every Medileer takes the Old Myths seriously- commercial starline flights are available for Neptunians to visit Terra at any time- but some few who grow up with the myths inherit the believe that Terra wasn't just theirs to visit, but theirs to own. The Patriarch of the Skyguard, Glixperylthesamedileer, is one among those few, as are his closest appointed cabinet and the board of directors at Quasar Galactic, Neptune's leading starship technologies corporation. When you're a young Zephyleer and you join the Skyguard with a promise to see other worlds and have grand adventures in service of your great planet, this revelation can be complicated to process. He really takes those old stories seriously? Who else believes the Old Myths? Can you trust that your command isn't influenced by ideas of divine birthright? What would happen to you if you were found to be a non-believer? Hammer and her crew had served admirably in fighting off Andromedans, but since learning about Glixperylthesamedileer and the roots of the Old Myths in the seats of Neptunian power she found herself keeping her head down and her tail to the ground. She did not want to advance the Old Myths, but she didn't know what she could do without risking retribution from those powers who are invested in seeing them through to completion.
It was during joint operations with the Terran Star Navy when Hammer first heard one of the Inner Belt's own myths, about a band of outlaws who supposedly halted a massive terraforming project and captured the crown jewel of the Terran fleet. Neptune is a tamed world, plutoformed over many generations; Neptunians understand the machinations that go into changing an entire planet's climate, so the idea that one group of nobodies could halt efforts of that scale seemed impossible, but many of the older Star Patrollers insist it was true. It's been eighteen years since the outlaws disappeared with the Terran flagship, but there are those officers who were beginning their careers back then, who served aboard the Coelacanth, who insist the legends were true.
Younger Star Patrollers dismiss the idea, it was popular opinion growing up that "The Devil's Fang Pirates" were a fabrication, that the stories were a coverup to explain away the failure and collapse of the Inner World Terraforming Project, that the Coelacanth was an undiscovered wreck somewhere and it was greed or incompetence that caused the IWTP to crash. Their officers are quick to rebuke these beliefs; one claimed to have carried the Grand Admiral off the Coelacanth himself, he claims to have been in the room when the Grand Admiral earned his eyepatch, knowing what haunts his remaining eye, the visions that have kept him awake at night for almost two decades. The Devil's Fang existed, they fought the whole of Terra's might, and somewhere the Coelacanth was still out there. And it was only by their mercy that he himself lives to recall what transpired so many years ago. The younger soldiers scoff at the sergeant, the Devil's Fang is just a story to scare new recruits.
Hammer listened quietly.
It's been quite a long time since the Devil's Fang took the bridge of the Coelacanth, half of an infinite number of pirates spilling their blood aboard her decks so that half of an infinite number of pirates could live on in infamy. An infinite number of Grand Admirals have been decommissioned by the machinations of an infinite number of Dread Hunters and an infinite number of Terras were left without decisive commanders in space. Those pirates who voted to parley now found themselves in command of the most powerful ship in the Inner Belt, and they put it to work immediately.
They say the Inner World Terraforming Project ended with a whimper, but the truth was it went out with a bang. It only took one Terran naval transport reporting an encounter with their flagship to scuttle the whole terraforming project. The report read that the naval transport was approached by their fleet's flagship, flanked by a bunch of cargo and mining vessels, and an unfamiliar voice came over the radio, ordering them to turn around and head home. Comms officers claimed one gunship demanded the Coelacanth identify themselves, and the Coelacanth fired one of its Hell Cannons through that gunship. Stem to stern, they say, the 6660mm shell tore through it like a bratwurst. "That's who we are", a new woman's voice came across comms following the muffled sounds of a microphone being moved, "now get to stepping or we'll break your legs next". The remaining ships turned their guns on the Coelacanth. The report of what happened next was delivered to Terran command by one crewman, an Android who took their chances in an escape craft. There was no one else left to contradict the story.
The cost of terraforming these hot, acidic planets had become too great to justify continuing. The Grand Admiral had, somehow, been defeated aboard his own ship and that same ship was now commencing hostilities against the rest of their fleet. If they don't want perfect worlds, if they don't want to share the splendor of Terran climate, then let them cook in their inhospitable little planets. The Devil's Fang had won, terraforming was off the table indefinitely. Now, instead, the Star Navy began to receive new orders: Sink The Coelacanth.
The Devil's Fang Pirates had grown to be formidable fighters, but there were limits on what they were capable of. Taking the flagship of the Terran Star Navy? That's doable with a little quantum manipulation. Using that one ship to fight the entire rest of the Terran fleet? That was a bit more of a stretch. In the wake of their victory the Devil's Fang found themselves under near constant assault by every Terran ship they encountered in the Inner Belt. They began losing lots of smaller ships and started consolidating their forces onto the Coelacanth itself, putting its array of weapons to use. The Hounds barked loud, her array of turrets engaged buzzing attack ships and her missile bays quickly emptied her reserves of guided explosives. Their supplies were finite and boarding these ships was not a viable strategy, their only option was to fight their way to the Asteroid Belt and disappear. A grand toll was paid by both sides, but quiet soon returned to the Inner Belt. They say salvage companies are still finding new shipwrecks from this era to this day.
The winds of time erode all things, and as the sands swept the Devil's Fang Pirates faded into legend. The Grand Admiral maintained the names of those who robbed him of his ship and his pride at the very top of his bounty board, and for years men ventured out into the depths of space in hopes of exchanging the heads of the Devil's Fang for unimaginable wealth, never to be heard from again. Cargo haulers would very rarely report sightings of the Coelacanth, of courteous bandits who would relieve their grav chains of needed supplies and let them fly away unharmed. One ambitious group of Martian bandits reported an encounter with the Coelacanth as it sat in ambush of the Grand Elk, a ship of particular interest to their captain- the survivors of these bandits did not describe the pirates as "courteous". Now and again starfarers reported seeing an enormous Terran warship fighting off ships of an unknown design, motes of fire enmeshed in steel; these starfarers tend to steer clear enough to avoid getting tangled up in whatever fight was going on, recalling the odd sighting at one port or another. Regulars at the black markets of Saturn know to keep their secrets, but occasionally first-timers would blab to their friends about the time they'd spotted a tall red-haired Mercurian woman and her hornet-haired Venusian friend combing through tents of wares and curios, certain that they recognized the pair. Some civilian folks claim to have actively sought out the outlaw ship, some craft beer aficionados seeking a rare taste of the bandit botanist's barley brew, others seeking an audience with an ancient witch, carrying very specific drawings on their person, while others still leave worlds they don't feel at home in, following rumors into reckless abandon amongst the Asteroids. These occasional sightings were just frequent enough to keep the stories alive, but as time went on the Devil's Fang Pirates faded into legend, and the many worlds continued their revolution around Sol.
Of all the starfarers who sought out the Devil's Fang, Hammer was the first to come all the way from Neptune. They say the Coelacanth only appears if it wishes to be found, and for a young Hammer, the Coelacanth emerged from the shadow of the dwarf planet Ceres, its hangar ramp lowered. From the bridge of the mighty ship the Dread Hunter Anibelle and the Grim Shard June watched as the little Neptunian craft maneuvered for a landing- curiosity at what a Neptunian wanted with the Devil's Fang had drawn them out of hiding.
Hammer stepped off her ship, her ears up and her tail to the ground. The ragtag band of Inner Belt humanoids didn't seem threatening, though they did seem to supervise her arrival. A tall man of iron, a living lantern, greeted Hammer gently, gesturing for her to follow him deeper into the ship. As she trotted along behind the Solzari she recited her pitch over and over in her head: a faction of Neptunian Skyguard wanted to take Terra back for themselves, and working with their corporate partners at Quasar they planned to reroute the warp currents themselves to form a direct route from Neptune to Terra. They'd plutoformed Neptune before Terrans learned to smelt bronze, they had the technological means to reroute the undercurrents of the whole Sol system to see their ambitions bear fruit. Every world between Neptune and Terra was in danger if their warp currents were so brazenly disrupted. There are some people within the Skyguard who would like to sabotage these efforts, but she's afraid their efforts alone may not be enough. A small ship called the Reef Shark was set to carry survey orders to a Quasar Galactic research team exploring the optimal way to reroute the warp currents, those orders are under heavy plainclothes protection, they would expose the Patriarch's entire plan. She's heard stories of a band of outlaws who fought Terra and won, so she was hoping, uhh, you know... if maybe the Devil's Fang Pirates could help steal the plans from the Reef Shark, crush the Old Myths once and for all, and if it's not too much trouble... kill Patriarch Glixperylthesamedileer? A Patriarch Leaf may be more amicable to a pardon for the Devil's Fang, and maybe, what's in it for you? Is maybe you might not have to live in hiding anymore.
Whisper gestured to ship's map room. "This way, please. The captain's waiting for you." Hammer recited her pitch one last time, took a deep breath and peeked her nose into the room. She was nervous to begin with, but upon actually meeting the Dread Hunter herself, the Grim Shard at her side, the pair lit by the glow of a hard-light map projection, she felt herself under tremendous pressure. Sensing her intimidation, the Grim Shard struck a friendly, almost cute tone. "Hi there! I'm June. This is Anibelle." The taller Mercurian softened the piercing glare of her cinder eyes, attempting to affect a more welcoming aura.
"What can the Devil's Fang do for you today?"
A fleet of Neptunian starships had been ordered to install a large Quasar Galactic lenticular satellite at a specific point in Jovian space, but they were intercepted by a Terran battleship appearing from nowhere to fire upon the satellite, blowing it to pieces with a thundering shot from its 6660mm cannons. The Coelacanth's subspace pocket drive- its specs coming by way of Red Raven Towing & Salvage, stolen by Steel Crow Mitsuko, translated by Fiss the Brass Wyrm and fine-tuned by the Void Witch herself- at last allowed the enormous battleship to move freely throughout the Sol system, appearing as if emerging from the dark itself and disappearing just as quickly. What once was a crew of primarily Inner Belt outlaws now boasted a healthy array of new faces, from Callisto, Ganymede, Europa, Caelus and even Neptune itself. The Coelacanth hammered the Skyguard fleet with her broadside cannons, boarding rounds feeding this menagerie of malcontents directly into the Skyguard's middle decks; the Neptunian Star Patrollers were still not used to these sorts of tactics and found themselves being overrun.
Aboard the fleet's capital ship a band of outlaws filled out the bridge, the Iron Empress standing watch over the main doorway. The ship's commander found himself backed into a corner, his personal guard outmaneuvered by the old pirates, each one fearful of being the next to flinch and catch a shot from the rusted, screeching Europan corpse in their presence. Driftwood the Whaler had already pierced the heart of the ship's computer network with his data harpoon, the beast was now his. The commander, a Medileer Neptunian, requested the two captains settle their quarrel "by yolk and shell"- Anibelle looked quizzically to Hammer, who explained that's an old Neptunian saying. It means mano-a-mano. The pirate captain smiled! She handed her weapons off to June, the Grim Shard- her first mate and her oldest friend- before she slipped her heavy brown coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the ship's deck, landing with a resounding thud. The crews formed a squared circle around the two captains. A dawning realization overcame the Neptunian commander as his challenge was so gleefully accepted.
Anibelle cracked her knuckles. It felt good to be back.
