A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (18 page)

              “Captain, one of the light cruisers is changing course to intercept us,” the tactical officer called out. 

              “What about the rest of the pirate fleet?” Kol asked, his eyes glued to his display.

              Wotan nodded.  “They are continuing on a vector that will take them out system.  Their fighters are providing cover.”

              “Where are our fighters?”

              “They are holding position half a light second from the gas giant, to our port side,” Wotan replied.  “Less than five hundred thousand kilometers from us.”

              “Comms,” Kol ordered, not looking away from his display.  “Get the leader of the squadron on the line.  I hope that’s still Leader Korqath, if not, whoever is in charge.”

              “I’ve got Leader Korqath on the line for you, Captain.”

              “Captain Raydor,” the zheen’s voice sounded over the comms at his command chair.  “It’s good to see you and your ship.”

              “I only wish we could have gotten here sooner,” Kol said with feeling.  “But we’re here now.  What is the status of our forces?”

              There was a buzz over the comms before Korqath answered.  “Well, my fighter squadrons are in decent shape.  I have thirty-two effectives, though we’ve expended nearly all of our missiles.  All the corvettes but the
Maitland
are destroyed and she’d taken a few hits.  I think the corvette is still fighting, but she won’t be much help.”  A pause.  “All of the defense turret platforms are either destroyed or disabled.  And the newest disgrace was the destruction of the tank farm above the gas giant.”

              Kol sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  “Damn it.  That’s a lot we’ve lost.”

              “Yes, Captain it is,” the pilot agreed.  “And we’ve got one of them cruisers coming back around.  What do you want to do?”

              “What I want to do is trash that ship,” Kol told him.  “And you’re going to help me.”

              “Happy to, Captain.”  He actually sounded excited, even after the hours of combat he’d already been through.  “Not sure how much help me and my zheen can really be though.  And I’m not too keen on getting into knife-fighting range.  Last time my squadron did that with a capital ship, we got chewed up.”

              “I’m not sure what we can do about it, Captain.  I don’t want to lose your pilots, but I want to keep that cruiser away from the gas mine.  I think they might do bad things if we let them get in too close.”

              “What’s your plan?”

              “You distract them, while
Persistence of Vision
moves in to cut her off.  We’ll hammer them and keep moving as much as possible.  My ship has greater speed and maneuverability than a cruiser, so we need to use that.”

              “I agree.”  But then he spoke again.  “But I don’t want the rest of the pirate flotilla to get any ideas.  I need to hold the bulk of my squadrons back to prevent those ideas.”

              “All right,” Kol said, clenching his teeth.  “How many can you spare?”

              “I can bring ten fighters to the attack.  I have several with nearly a half load on their missile magazines.  Might be able to give the cruiser a bloody nose.”

              “Then come at the cruiser from below and port.  I’ll move in in front.”

              “Roger that, O Captain!” the zheen said with enthusiasm.

              “Some of the fighters are moving up to engage, General,” Bek reported.  The wolf looked ready for another fight, this time against a more worthy opponent.  A Republic destroyer was much more formidable opponent than the corvettes they’d been skirmishing with for the last few hours. 
Illuyanka
had shot down two of them and had managed to avoid any serious damage.  It had felt good, but there’d been no real challenge.  Now…

              “I see them,” the general replied.  “Ready point defense.  Helm, prepare to roll ship if they start firing missiles.  I don’t want to take a full salvo on one facing.  Bek, lock main weapons on the destroyer.”  He bared his teeth in anticipation.  “We destroy that warship and then it’s on to the gas mine.”

              The cruiser accelerated, as did
Persistence of Vision
.  The fighters moved up in an undisciplined swarm, holding back on their missiles, a few spraying laser bolts that came nowhere close to hitting the pirate vessel.  The destroyer absorbed a punishing volley from
Illuyanka,
heavy on energy weapons, no missiles, twisting to try and mitigate the damage.  The FP ship struck back, her own six heavy lasers lashing out.  Four struck against
Illuyanka
’s forward screens.  The destroyer’s lighter laser batteries opened up, peppering the shields an instant after her main guns, and a salvo of throat-ripper missiles followed a few seconds behind.  The light cruiser took the energy weapon hits, but her counter battery fire easily swatted the missiles down.  The pilot of the cruiser slewed the ship to starboard, to bring the portside broadside weapons to bear, to assist in point defense.

              Which opened the ship up from the salvo from the fighters.  The ten Aplora pilots dumped their remaining missiles at the cruiser.  Two of the fighters had been among the strike flight that had savaged the assault transport and thus still carried a large number of their weapons.  The other eight still retained one or two missiles each.  Twenty-two missiles raced out from the Vision fighters nearly unopposed.  At the very last instant, the light cruiser managed to retarget its portside batteries, which frantically began spewing lasers and counter missiles.

              Six then eight, then nine missiles exploded against the ship’s shields before
Illuyanka
could shoot down the rest.  A ripple of explosions tore down the entire portside of the ship, collapsing the shields and ripping into the hull of the ship.  Secondary explosions ignited from inside and the whole ship bucked.

              “Break off!” Typhon screamed over the wail of alarms.  “Drop us down the z-axis and go to best acceleration!  Bek, keep them off us!”  He was viciously pounding the arm of his chair. 

              “The fighters are giving chase, but we’re accelerating away,” the sensor operator called, rubbing the side of his head.  He’d cut himself when the ship lurched after he’d smacked his head on the console.  Blood was trickling through his fingers and it hurt, but he was doing his best to ignore the wound. 

              “They’re breaking off!” the sensor operator cried.  The bridge erupted in cheers, which Kol allowed for a full ten seconds before he silenced them. 

              “I can’t believe that worked,” the captain muttered to himself.  “I mean, I’m glad it did, but I thought the cruiser would take the incoming fire from us in order to protect its flanks against the fighters.”

              “I think your ruse succeeded, Captain,” Wotan said quietly.  “Having Leader Korqath save his missiles and even fire off a few lasers, they thought the fighters would have to close to point-blank range.”

              “Even still, they managed to shoot down more than half of the volley.”  Kol actually sounded impressed.  “I think we might want to have a look at that technology if we can.”  Then he frowned.  “But I’m not going to risk this ship or the fighters on trying to bring down that ship.  Comms!  Send a message to Leader Korqath.  Tell him to follow, but back off.  Let them go.”

              “After all that, sir?” the XO demanded, pointing to the outside.  “After all they’ve destroyed and all they’ve stolen, you’re going to just let them go?”

              “We hurt them, XO,” Kol replied, his voice strained.  “But even wounded, that light cruiser still outguns us.  And I can’t afford to leave the gas mine undefended should the other light cruiser or the heavy cruiser decide to turn around and come after the gas mine.  Helm, bring us about.”

              The pilot nodded.  “Aye, sir.”

              Kol Raydor checked his sensor display again, which showed the light cruiser streaming air and racing away from the battle area, still on a relatively straight vector away.  The rest of the pirate fleet was moving at a more sluggish pace, but the freighters were in formation in the center, with the warships and fighters arrayed around and to the rear of the freighter formation to protect it.

              “Comms, send a message to the mine.  Tell them all the pirate forces are heading outbound.”

              “Ms. Samair, we’re getting a transmission from the
Persistence of Vision
,” Tiyaana Moreetz said over the comms.  She sounded excited.

              “They made it!” Tamara gushed.  “That is good news right there.”  Though what a single destroyer could do against three cruisers, she wasn’t quite sure.

              “Captain Raydor says that all pirate forces are outbound, heading away from any possible targets of opportunity.”  There was a pause while Tamara held her breath.  “Ma’am, I think it might be over.”

              Tamara let out an explosive breath and sagged against a nearby hover pallet.  “Call Leader Korqath.  Have half his squadron come in for refueling and rearming.  Of the ones out there, half the Aploras and half the Twin Novas, I don’t want squabbling over which fighter group gets to stay out.  The other half that remains is to maintain defensive posture as best as possible.”

              “Yes, ma’am.  I’m calling him now.”

              “Give it another hour,” Tamara replied.  “Then get the shuttles and tugs out.  We’ve got escape pods to pick up, and I want to get started on dealing with all the scrap out there.”

              “That’s rather callous, ma’am.”

              She sighed.  “Tiyaana, all of that debris is going to be a serious hazard to navigation soon.”

              “I know ma’am,” she said.  “But the fact that you’re barely waiting an hour before starting the salvage operation…  I’m sorry, ma’am.  It’s not my place.”

              “I don’t want to be the ogre that has to give the order,” Tamara admitted.  “But the sooner the teams get the jump on it, the more they can get before it spreads out too much.”

              “I understand, ma’am.”

              Tamara put her hands on her knees and leaned forward, breathing deeply.  This had been a long few hours, but with some luck, just maybe, it was over. 

              “Tamara!” a voice boomed over her implant comms, causing her to jump. 

              “Corajen, softly, please,” she said, putting her hands to her temples.

              “Is it true?” the lupusan demanded.  “Are the pirates really leaving?”

              Tamara nodded, though the security chief couldn’t see.  “Yes, Chief, they are.”

              “Damn it!” she raged.

              “What?”

              Corajen sounded indignant.  “We didn’t get a chance to fight!  There were boarding shuttles and pirates and I didn’t get a chance to kill any!”

              Tamara couldn’t help but laugh.             

Chapter 6

              "Sso I ssee you have returned to the fleet, General," Verrikoth chittered.  He was seated in his small ready room off of the bridge, thankfully sparing the furious lupusan the humiliation of saying these things in front of his crew.  It seemed that Typhon had no intention of embarrassing himself in front of his own crew, either, for the zheen could see the distinct background of the general's stateroom.  The lights were dimmer and appeared to be flickering slightly due to damage.  “I would have thought that ssuch an experienced fleet officer would never have fallen for ssuch a ssimple ruze.”

              Typhon growled, and Verrikoth couldn’t help hissing more with laughter.  He knew on a deeper level that it wasn’t smart; that he would only enrage the lupusan further.  But he just couldn’t help himself.  And with the wolf’s ship damaged, there was very little threat. 

              “Strong words,
bug
,” Typhon told him.  The words stung worse because they were true.  He’d gotten overconfident and they hammered him. 

              “I sspeak az a victor, General,” he said simply.  “Yess, the defenderz sstill have forcez, but I did not come here to wipe out the ssysstem.  I have losst too many sshipss already, but the workerz and the goodz we’ve taken will allow uss to build more.”

              “Too many of my wolves died today.”  But he sounded less angry than before.

              “You expected a good many of them to die taking the gass mine,” the pirate lord said, waving a hand dismissively. 

              “I will not let this stand,
Lord
Verrikoth,” the wolf vowed.  “They murdered my wolves aboard the transport ship.”

              Verrikoth leaned forward in his command seat toward the vid pickup.  “I will not explain thiss to you again,
General
.  I did not come to thiss ssysstem to lay wasste to it.  And I will not tolerate you doing sso either.”

              “Why do you care about this damned star system?” Typhon demanded.  “It isn’t part of your little empire.”

              Verrikoth was already in control of twelve systems, so calling his empire little was actually rather insulting.  But he chose not to address it.  “You’re right, this ssysstem iz not part of my ssphere of influence, desspite how close it iz.  But it iz far more productive than I had imagined.  And I will expect to come back here and ssometime ssoon, General.  And I do not want a bombed-out ruin.  I want that productive ssysstem we just came from.”

              Typhon didn’t respond.  He just cut the connection. 

              “Commander Tyler,” he said, turning to his flag captain.

              “My Lord?” the commander replied, looking over from where he was standing looking over the shoulder of the damage control officer.

              “What iz the sstatuss of the repairz?”  It wasn’t the question he really wanted to ask.

              “Two of the plasma conduits are repaired, my Lord,” Tyler answered.  “The hull breaches have been sealed.”

              “Excellent, Commander,” the pirate lord said in praise.  “Will the sship be able to make the jump to hypersspace?”

              Tyler nodded.  “Yes, my Lord, without difficulty.  Though our maximum hyperspeed will be reduced until we can do a full teardown and repair.  Not that it will matter, since the transports couldn’t hope to keep up with
Nemesis
at full speed anyway.”

              The zheen nodded in approval.  “Excellent.  Keep a close watch on the General’z sship.  Report to me the insstant it changez coursse.”

              “Of course, my Lord.”  The commander snapped his fingers at the zheen at sensors, who nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~

              General Typhon continued his fuming session in his stateroom for several minutes after ending the call with Verrikoth.  It had been a very long time since Typhon had been forced to take orders from anyone.  Even during the war, he’d managed to get himself in a position where he could work out the tactical situation for his own troops and had done so on numerous occasions, pulling victory from the belly of defeat more than once by defying orders.  Finally, the war ended and he decided that he just couldn’t take the snide looks, the condescending messages from politicians, the derogatory and annoying comments from civilians.  All of the messages amounted to the same thing: You and your wolves did cracking good work for us during the war, but now the war’s over and we have better things to worry about than a bunch of over aggressive, frightful… dogs!  We thank you for your… contributions… during the war, but there’s nothing more pathetic than yesterday’s heroes.  “Again, thank you,” he’d been told one by one politician bold (or stupid) enough to actually confront Typhon directly, “but now that the war is over, might it be better that you and your dogs go find some hole and crawl in and leave civilization to the civilized folk?”

              Typhon remembered that bald, condescending idiot with perfect clarity.  He remembered the feeling of not-inconsiderable rage and having to stuff down that rage to avoid killing the prick.  He doubted that there would have been any serious fallout if he had, but the man had been connected within the ruling collective.  Typhon had proven himself an able commander and fighter during the war, so most likely his punishment would have been to resign his commission and quietly retire.  That pompous little shit’s life was not worth losing everything he’d worked so hard to achieve; everything he’d shed and spent so much
blood
to achieve, no matter how satisfying it would be to rip the man open and feed him his own entrails.

              So directly after that meeting, Typhon had begun planning and prep for his getaway.  He gathered together his officers from the Grenadiers, all of whom had similar feelings toward the powers that be and they came up with a plan for leaving.  None of them felt as though this was desertion: no, the Federation had abandoned them long ago.  They went to the troops, all of whom wholeheartedly approved of the idea of leaving. 

              Typhon and his officers and soldiers then loaded up full holds of supplies, food, gear, weapons and ammunitions, fuel, into
Illuyanka
and HT 626 and left.  Typhon cut himself some orders for the two ships to go to Felken, which was in the “northwestern” quadrant of the Federation, to put down a small uprising there.  In reality, both ships made their way “southeast” away from the Federation and out into the frontier of the Argos Cluster.  It was hardly a frontier, but since the end of the war and the withdrawal from the Cluster by all Republic forces, it was a lawless, damaged place, perfect for a pair of ships that wanted to disappear. 

              He smiled at the memory.  By the time anyone realized that
Illuyanka
and her companion never actually showed up in Felken, and in fact had never been seen since leaving headquarters, over a year had passed and the trail had gone completely cold.  He’d been very careful on that trip, staying off the main hyperspace routes, stopping in quiet or dead systems to refuel in gas giants using a portable helium 3 collector. 

              Once he arrived in Argos, he set up shop in one temporary headquarters after another, raiding the occasional planet and eventually bringing his flotilla to what it had been before this raid here in Seylonique.  But in all that time, a quarter of a millennium,
he
had been in charge.  He was the General, he gave orders and others followed them.  No one
ever
told him what to do.  And now, the
bug
was swanning around, acting like he was this mighty warlord.  Acting as though he was in command of Typhon and his wolves.  And even when his heavy cruiser could have helped, could have
wrecked
that damned destroyer and tore those fighter squadrons to bits!  Now,
Illuyanka
was battered and he looked like a fool who couldn’t follow orders. 
Damn that bug!

              He couldn’t let it go.  After losing all those soldiers and the damage his ships had taken, not to mention the losses of
two
of his corvettes, he couldn’t let it go.  Accessing his implants, he started doing some calculations, and accessed the ship’s sensors.  He was looking for something and within a moment he found what he’d wanted. 

              He pressed a control.  “Bridge, this is Typhon.”

              “General,” Bek’s voice answered.

              “Send a communication to the rest of my ships.  Not the fleet as a whole, only the ships under my banner.”

              “Yes, General.”

              “All ships are to diverge from the fleet, on a heading two-one-four.  They’re to head straight for the hyper limit, diverting only for navigation issues.  They are not to respond to Verrikoth’s orders unless they come from me.”

              There was a very slight pause, one that Typhon must have imagined because then Bek was speaking.  “Yes, General.  I’m sending it now.”

              “Very good.”

              “Is there anything else sir?”

              “Get with the damage control crew; find out the state of the tractoring emitters.  And our forward weapons.”

              “Yes, sir.  I have the preliminary report here…”

              He nodded, though Bek couldn’t see.  “Yes, I’ve read it.  I want an update.  If the techs aren’t working on them, I want them to reprioritize those two systems.  Life support and propulsion are the only two systems that have a higher tasking.”

              “Understood, sir,” the tactical officer said.  “I will get with them and report back as soon as I have the information.”

              “Faster is better, Bek.”

              He could hear the wolf nodding.  “I’m on it, General.”

              Typhon ended the connection, then went back to his calculations.  They were rough and he would need them refined, heavily, if his plan was to work.  But if things went right, then he could have a shot at vengeance against the locals and against Verrikoth at the same time.

              Bek was as good as his word.  Almost four minutes had passed and he was calling back to Typhon’s stateroom.  “I have that information you wanted, General.”

              Typhon nodded at the tactical officer’s image on his display.  “Well?”

              “The starboard side tractor emitter is functioning properly, but with our structural damage, sir, it’s only operating at just over seventy percent capacity.  The port side emitter is completely shot, General.  It’s going to require a full teardown and rebuild.”

              The general grunted.  That complicated things.  “Very well.  And the weapons?”

              “Both the bow turbolasers are online and active, sir,” Bek said, his chest puffing out a bit.  “Targeting systems are being recalibrated as we speak, sir.  I’ll have the guns ready to thread a needle in half an hour.”

              Typhon chuckled.  “Very good, Bek.  It’s going to take nearly three hours to do what I want anyway, and I’m going to test your marksmanship before we’re done.  I expect results.”

              The other wolf nodded.  “You’ll have them, sir.”

              “Good.  I’m on my way up to the bridge.”

              “Commander!  General Typhon’s ships are breaking formation with the fleet,” the sensor operator called from his station.  “They’re diverging from our course by twelve degrees.  Eighteen.  They’re holding on that vector, Commander.  They haven’t increased speed,” the zheen replied, anticipating the next question.  “They’re just headed out system, continuing on a course for the hyper limit.”

              “What?”  Jensen Tyler demanded, turning.  “Did they send any word?”

              “Not to us, sir,” the comms officer replied.  “There was some message traffic between the General’s ships a few moments ago.  But it was all encrypted, nothing in the clear.”

              “I’ll inform my Lord,” Jensen said.  “Keep an ear out.  Call me immediately if anything changes!” he said loudly to the bridge. 

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~

              Verrikoth watched his display as
Illuyanka
altered course and headed away from the fleet, away from Typhon’s own ships.  The light cruiser was still damaged and the pirate lord was interested to see what it was that the general thought he was doing.  His ship was tearing off, hell for leather on a course perpendicular to the rest of the fleet.  Doing an extrapolation of his own (he was determined he would never become one of those leaders that required the lowest yeoman in the bowels of engineering to do even the most simple of tasks for him) he determined that unless Typhon made any course changes, he was headed out for the asteroid belt.  The light cruiser’s course would take it nowhere near the mining station on the edge of the belt, so he had no idea what was going on.

              “Approaching the target asteroid now, General,” the helmsman reported.

              “Closing to tractoring range.  Ready to lock on at your command,” Bek said.