A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (12 page)

              Marat popped the seal on his helmet as did the tech.  “What’s going on?” the technician, another lupusan, demanded.  “Why is your squad in here?  Why aren’t you on comms?”  His questions were cut off by the blade that slashed across his throat; Marat’s hand moved faster than anyone in the control booth could see.  Another pair of quick stabs through the unarmored chest and the tech dropped to the deck, gasping and gurgling until he finally died.  Moving quickly, the big male lupusan stripped the corpse of his comm gear, an annoying headset that looped over his ears, which thankfully didn’t have any blood on it.  He’d been pretty careful with his knife strike; the blood had gushed into his victim’s suit and onto the deck instead of the armorglass window that looked out into the bay.

              “Let’s move,” Marat ordered, and Ekaterina nodded.  “I’ll hit the opposite bay, you go to the aft bay.”  Again, the brindled female nodded.  Opening the outer door going into the ship, they hustled through. 

              Getting into the aft bay didn’t prove to be difficult for Ekaterina and her team.  What with Samair’s electronic key they managed to get into the aft bay without serious issue.  There they were, the shuttles, all lined up and ready to go.  The problem was, once the trio entered the bay, they ran smack into a full company of pirate soldiers finishing gearing up and getting ready for boarding.  Both groups stood and stared at each other for a long moment.  They didn’t seem to know how to react, and it seemed as though the pirates might just accept that these were just more soldiers, ready for boarding actions.

              But then Huw panicked.  He raised his weapon, pointing it in the direction of the boarding company.  One of the pirates saw, screamed an obscenity and brought up a massive boarding axe.  Huw fired, his assault rifle shredding him.  The bullets tore through him, injuring three others behind him.  Pandemonium broke out as the interlopers were noticed and the victims cried out in pain.  Within seconds, Ekaterina and her group were fighting for their lives.  Axes and blades and guns versus her group’s own firearms, claws and blades. 

              Roaring in battle lust, a huge male lunged at Huw with what looked like a petrol-powered chainsaw, which was giving off a terrible rusty racket.  The deputy bayed in terror and fired his rifle unleashing a storm of bullets into the charging wolf who gagged in pain.  The pirate toppled and crashed to the deck, landing on the deputy.  Huw shrieked in agony as the spinning blade sawed through his shoulder and cut deep into his chest.  Blood fountained, drenching the lupusan and his fallen foe.  His gun went off, spraying bullets in all directions until the remainder of the hundred-round magazine ran dry, wounding another two of the pirates.

              Not waiting around, Ekaterina grabbed Konnair by the shoulder and yanked him out of the bay, back through the hatch they’d entered by.  As the deputy stumbled backward and skidded, trying to regain his balance, the bodyguard yanked a trio of Samair’s slimer grenades from her bandolier, pulling the pins and tossing them through the hatch just as she passed through back into the corridor.  There were roars of frustration and then panic as the quickly expanding foam turned from a slight nuisance into a trap, blocking the door and sealing several of the soldiers in place.

              “Huw!” Konnair breathed, trying to regain his composure.

              Ekaterina grabbed a fistful of his sleeve and shoved.  “He’s gone!  Now move!” she hissed, her aura pulsing with fury and malice.  He needed to get back into the game and she did not have time to coddle him.  The stupid fool was not ready for this mission, neither of them.  Huw had gotten himself killed and blown the element of surprise and if she wasn’t careful, Konnair might just get the
both
of them killed. 

              She flashed a quick message to Marat.  [We’re blown.  Couldn’t get to aft bay port side.  Huw dead.  Moving to starboard bay.]

              An instant later, she got a response back.  [Starboard main bay complete.  Key worked great.  Moving to jo…]  And the message cut off in mid-sentence. 

              “
Kors
!” she swore.  “Move it!” Ekaterina pelted down the corridor, side-by-side with Konnair, both of them holding their weapons at the ready.  Marat had done his job, apparently, but either he was pinned down or dead and either way he wasn’t responding.  There was nothing to be done about it now; she had a mission to complete.  And it wasn’t as though she was going to be able to get all the shuttles, but if she could just get that last bay, figure out a way to damage or disable those last ones that would mean only eight out of the forty were spaceworthy.  If each shuttle could hold forty troops that meant just shy of five hundred soldiers would be getting off this barge in one drop.  Surely Chief Nymeria, Magnus and Samair could handle five hundred soldiers. 

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

              “The light cruiser is coming by for another pass, ma’am,” Tiyaana Moreetz reported over the comlink.  “She’s taken a bit of a beating, but it looks as though her shields are still holding and she hasn’t taken much in the way of hull damage.”

              “Shit,” Tamara swore quietly, attaching the wiring for the navigation to the missile housing she was working on.  One of the wires slipped in her haste and she swore again.  “Calmly, Tamara, calmly.  You’re in your workshop, you’re just putting this little beauty together in your spare time.  Nothing at all to worry about.”  Apparently her fingers believed the soothing lie and she quickly finished the job.  A second later, she had a screwdriver in hand and was closing up the casing.  “All right, this one’s done.  Everyone, get ready!  We’re going to go with the first salvo!”  She tossed the screwdriver onto the nearby toolbox.

              Grabbing her helmet, Tamara quickly put it on and sealed it.  The suit’s electronics quickly activated and interfaced with her implants, bringing up the status feeds.  A quick glance around showed that the rest of the technicians in the bay were suited and ready. 

              They had improvised a launching system, which was little more than an elevated platform with a series of tubes, aiming out of the closed bay doors at a fifty degree angle toward space, in the general direction of where the
Ganges
was tearing apart the last of the orbital defense turrets.

              “If you’re going to fire, ma’am, you’d better do it soon,” Tiyaana warned, her voice starting to rise an octave in her anxiety.  “That ship is moving to hit the last platform.  Once that’s done, I can’t imagine it’s going to hang around near the tank farm.  It’s probably going to put some distance, or else it’s going to turn its guns on us!”

              “Yes, thank you, I know that,” Tamara snapped.  “Ten seconds,” she said, staring at her HUD.  She was linked in with their launching systems and telemetry for their targeting was being provided by one of the orbital satellites.  The missiles would exit the bay and go screaming out of the gas giant’s atmosphere and into space.  They would burn up nearly three quarters of their propellant doing it, so making sure that the
Ganges
was in just the right position was critical.  They wouldn’t have much time on target.

              “And…
now
!” she cried, sending the command.  The doors opened and the missiles blasted out into the raging winds. 

Chapter 4

              Forty-eight missiles raced through the atmosphere, clawing their way up out of the gravity well, out of the atmosphere, fighting through the winds.  They were all targeted at the light cruiser that was moving at a steady but unhurried speed overhead, as it took out the last of the orbital defense platforms.  The light cruiser
Ganges
had taken several hits from the defensive platforms’ weapons, and was showing moderate spotting on the shields, a bit of scoring on the hull, one of the heavy lasers was knocked out.  Nothing too serious.

              The very high winds were causing a serious problem, however.  In order to keep the weapons on course, their motors were forced to burn through more propellant than was expected.  By the time the missiles cleared the atmosphere, seven of them ran out and fell back into the raging winds.  They plummeted down, buffeted about and missing the Kutok mine by over a kilometer.  The remaining missiles were scattered about, no longer in a tight cluster, but that was actually to the good.  It was less likely that the cruiser would be able to shoot them all down with them spread out like that.  The missiles accelerated and began moving in on their target.

              “Commander, we’ve got missiles incoming.”  Gorgen’s voice was tense as he keyed up his point defense.  The two tactical operators in his section were also bringing the main weapons to bear.  “I’ve got point defense online and ready.”

              Hestian nodded, folding his hands and resting his muzzle on them for a long second before straightening and nodding his head.  “Good.  Engage those missiles, Mister Gorgen.  Put us between them and the freighters.” 

              The light cruiser moved into position and the broadside weapons opened up, with the forward heavy lasers on the port side joining in on the fusillade.  The missiles didn’t try to evade, they were fixed on their target.  The ship’s weapons tore into them, ripping them apart as they approached.  Seventeen of the missiles suddenly lost propulsion and went ballistic and were easy meat for Gorgen’s guns. 

              But there were too many.  His weapons were spewing coherent energy into space in a cone, snatching missiles out of the sky but they kept getting closer. 

              “Damn, they suckered me!” Gorgen hissed, as two of the missiles slipped past his counter fire and slammed into the shields, exploding in waves of energy and radiation.  “Those slippery bastards jinked at the last moment.”  An instant later, the ship shook again as another one hit the aft end of the ship.

              “Damage to engine number three,” one of the bridge watch called.  “Heavy spotting to the portside shields.  Minor damage to the hull.”

              The last two missiles bore in and the closest counter battery went into last-ditch automatic suppression fire.  One of the missiles took a glancing hit on the side of the fuselage and began to spin uncontrollably before it exploded prematurely, two hundred meters from the shields.  Its destruction washed over the defenses of the ship, and less than one second later the second missile plowed into the screens and detonated.

              Hestian grabbed the arms of his command seat as the ship shook slightly with the damage.  “Damage report!”

              “Port shields have collapsed,” the damage control operator reported.  “Hull breach on deck six, heavy laser turret two is showing damage and is in local control.  We’re showing damage to the power grid in that section, working on a bypass.”

              Hestian nodded.  “Very well.  Comms, get on with the captains of the freighters.  Tell them to hurry it along.  I don’t think we can withstand another salvo like that again.”

              Gorgen shook his head.  “I’ll know what to look for this time, Commander.  I won’t get fooled again.”

              The lupusan captain stared at his tactical officer.  “You’d better not.  And…”  He glanced back at his own displays.  “How the hell did those missiles track us?  And where did they come from?”

              “They came from up in the gas giant,” Gorgen replied.  “I’ve tracked their vector, but the only place that makes any sense is from the gas mine.”

              “
Kors!
” the commander swore, clenching one long fingered hand tight on the arm of his chair.  His orders from the flagship were very specific: under no circumstances was Hestian to attack the mine.  Lord Verrikoth fully intended to be back in this system at some later date and he didn’t want to damage the real estate or the locals’ production capabilities. 

              “I have a target lock, Commander, on the mine,” Gorgen told him.  “Ready to fire.”

              “No,” Hestian growled, suppressing the urge (barely) to dig his claws into the arms of the chair and rip up the electronics.  “Stand down, Gorgen.”

              “But, Commander!” the lupusan almost whined.

              Hestian turned and roared at him in fury, springing out of the chair and rushing to the tactical console.  He grabbed the tactical officer by the lapels of his skinsuit and with a great outraged heave, he yanked him out of the seat, snapping the chair’s restraints.  Hestian slammed Gorgen to the deck, and then kneeled down on his chest, his head close to the other lupusan’s throat.  His fangs bared, Hestian let out a growl, his voice filled with subsonics. 

              Gorgen immediately went limp, his eyes wide and his ears flatted in submission.  He hadn’t lost control of his faculties, but this was clearly the first dominance struggle he’d had in quite a while.  He was breathing fast and shallow and trying his damndest not to upset the Commander.

              “I… am in command of this ship, pup,” the elder wolf growled.  “When I give you an order, you obey.  I will not be giving more chances.  I should tear out your worthless throat out right here, you whining little infant.  Now get up, get back to your station and do your
job
!”  He got up and went back to his chair, seating himself with just the smallest amount of flourish.  After a good thirty seconds more of laying on the floor, Gorgen picked himself up, his shoulders a bit slumped and his eyes downcast.  One of the zheen hissed and clacked his mouthparts in amusement; Gorgen snapped his jaws at him, growling. 

              Hestian grunted, chuckling to himself.  The boy was strong and sadly, his sentiment mirrored Hestian’s own.  He desperately wanted to blast the hell out of the gas mine and all of the pathetic bastards down there who dared thought they could just launch a volley of missiles at
his
ship.  But, Lord Verrikoth had been explicit.  And Hestian agreed with the idea that this show of force now would make it that much easier to show up in a few months to take what they wanted then.  Once the local government realized what was happening here, they would panic.  And if Lord Verrikoth showed up with warships in a few months, the government types would be pissing themselves to do anything he asked.  Of course, there was that battlecruiser to worry about, but Hestian was sure that the pirate lord would come up with something.

              He just hoped that
Ganges
and her crew could hold up against another salvo of those damnable missiles.               

             
Just about the whole damned ship is on alert now
, Ekaterina thought to herself as she and Konnair turned a corner.  They ran into a pair of crew, wolves in coveralls carrying tool boxes and trundling a hover pallet behind them of equipment, possibly on the way to the damaged bay to try and repair the breach. 
Oh, won’t they be surprised when I blow the shuttles.
  But they couldn’t be allowed to just wander by.  A pair of shots to their heads and the techs went down.  She wanted to feel bad about it, but these were pirates, after all.  And then there was no time to think about it, only to think about getting to that last hangar bay and somehow avoid the security patrols.

              Konnair was huffing and puffing now, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.  He wasn’t out of breath, exactly, but his anxiety was at levels never before reached.  He hadn’t been trained for this sort of mission, but he was holding up well enough.  He was taking his cues from Ekaterina and only shooting either when she did or when she told him to, but he was managing to control his fear.  Certainly better than Huw had, anyway.

              They ducked into a compartment, finding it empty but there was a small terminal on the bulkhead.  She pressed a key to bring it online, hoping to find a ship layout or something.  In running from the hangar they’d somehow gotten twisted around in the huge vessel and Ekaterina had lost her bearings.  Konnair hadn’t really been paying much attention; he’d been too focused on the moment.  Using her implants, she was able to pull up a rough map of her path through the ship, but her implants (being made using FP’s Republic-style replicators) couldn’t interface with Federation tech, even ancient tech like that on this ship.

              Thankfully, whoever had used this terminal last hadn’t bothered to lock it down or encrypt anything, though a quick check showed that it only had the most basic access to the ship’s database.  It was used for communications and personal use, and checking through a few data folders, she found that the previous owner had used it for viewing some rather disgusting pornography.  With a grunt, she accessed other files, hoping for a break.

              After two straight minutes of feeling Konnair’s blood pressure rising as he watched the door, finally, she found something.  “Got it,” she muttered, though there was no need to be quiet.  The hatch was closed and it was unlikely that the sound would carry, but she didn’t want to get out of the habit.

              “Got what?” Konnair almost squeaked.  Hardly very dominant or imposing, that, but Ekaterina couldn’t blame him for being so nervous. 

              “Found a layout of this deck,” she said, pointing to the screen, but he hadn’t turned away from the closed hatch.  “I’m downloading it now.”  A message appeared on her HUD indicating “incompatible data stream” and “unable to download.”  “
Kors
,” she whispered.  “All right, we’ll do this another way.”  She pulled the map up and charted a route through the compartment and corridors to the second aft bay and recorded the route on her implants. 

              Pressing a control, she closed down the terminal.  “Let’s move.  We’ve got a bit of a jog.”

              “What?” Konnair asked, glancing back.  “Why?  There isn’t just a straight route?”

              “There is,” she admitted, going to the hatch and cracking it open.  “But I don’t want the troops on board chasing us straight there.  I don’t want them to know where we’re going.”

              “Okay, then let’s go.”  Clearly the male was trying to bolster his confidence. 

              She clapped him on the arm, a very human gesture.  “Good boy.”  Pulling the hatch all the way open she slipped out, with Konnair following close behind. 

              “All the cargo ships are linked up with the tank farms,” the sensor operator reported.

              “Good,” Hestian grumped.  “The sooner they can fill their holds, the sooner we’re out of here.” 
When we first got here, I couldn’t understand why Lord Verrikoth would want to just get in here, steal a few things and get out.  But now, after the losses we’ve taken and the damage
Ganges
has sustained, I fully appreciate the lord’s decision.  And all this damage was done without the local’s battlecruiser getting involved.  I dread to think what that ship could have done to us.
  He checked the sensor feeds himself. 
Fletcher’s Dolly
, the first ship to get linked up, was nearly full to capacity.  The last ship on the list, one of General Typhon’s, would be full in a short while.  Nearly forty minutes, which would feel like an eternity while Hestian waited for the next salvo of missiles to come up from the planet’s atmosphere.

              “Hsst!” Ekaterina ducked back against the bulkhead, pushing Konnair back with one hand, keeping her weapon pointed to the overhead.  Just around the corner was the hatch that led into the bay they were looking for.  It had taken an agonizingly long time to get through the ship, taking the long way around because Ekaterina was paranoid about running into crew or roving patrols going the most direct route.  For some reason, the ship hadn’t gone on full alert after the skirmishes in the aft bay and with Marat’s team.  That was making her nervous, and taking the long route helped to assuage her fears slightly.

              But just around the corner was the hatch, they only had to slip through and plant the explosives.  After that, it was just about the exit strategy.  But, there was a whole bloody platoon of soldiers in front of that damned hatch.  Twelve wolves, milling around, looking as though they were wondering what was going on. 
It is a big ship.  Maybe the word hasn’t spread yet.
  Ekaterina chuckled to herself. 
And maybe I’m just fooling myself.
 
But we can’t call this off.  A thousand soldiers?  Not even Chief Nymeria can hold off that many troops with what she’s got down there.  Not without leaving nothing but a wreck of a station behind.

             
She did a quick mental inventory of her weapons.  There was nothing she had that could handle a dozen angry lupusan.  Unless she tossed the rest of the explosives at them and triggered it in their faces.  But then an idea came to her.  She had one more of the slimer grenades on her bandolier; Konnair had two.  She signaled him and he slung his rifle and pulled the two grenades out.  Ekaterina gestured that he was to pull the pins and toss them down the corridor.  On her nod, they both threw the disabling weapons down the corridor.  There was a trio of metallic clinking noises and the wolves up the corridor roared in frustration and anger, swinging their weapons in all directions.  One of the wolves tried to save his fellows by leaping atop the incoming explosives.  A noble gesture, to be sure, but ultimately fruitless.