A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (61 page)

             
“The moment has come,” Gokon declared.  “Helm, take us in on an attack vector.  Tactical, target their engines; hit them with everything we’ve got.”

              The cutter’s stealth suddenly dropped, and while it would still be difficult to detect the small ship, her power output and engine emissions increased exponentially.  They didn’t
quite
light up like a beacon, but anyone who wasn’t asleep at the switch would quickly note that something had just appeared in the system. 
Toroj
closed the distance in a matter of minutes, just as the Navy ship was clearing the rings. 

              “In range,” the zheen at tactical reported.

              “Open fire!” Gokon ordered fiercely.

              The cutter’s two forward laser cannons and two forward rail guns fired, coherent bolts of crimson energy lancing forward to connect the two ships. 
Toroj
was coming in on a high angle, pouncing on the Navy ship and with a
gorgous
shot at her engines.  It was made slightly more difficult because of the captured tug being towed behind and below, since Gokon didn’t want any of
Toroj
’s shots to hit the prize, but as it turned out, he needn’t have worried.  The tactical officer’s aim was perfect; six shots from the lasers impacted the weakened shields and the hammering by the rail guns tore a large hole.  The next salvo from the cutter’s weapons hit and disabled the engines, sending the corvette reeling.

              “We’re hit!” the sensor watch all but screeched.  “Engines two and three are out, engine one is showing minor damage.  Aft shields are at eleven percent.”

              “Damn it!” Kreighton swore, pouding his fist on the arm of his chair.  “Return fire!”

              “Trying sir,” Kiexek replied, as another hit shook the ship.  “They’re past us and that second salvo damaged our tractor emitter.”

              “What?” Kreighton demanded, clenching his fist.  “They attacked us from above, the emitter is on the ventral side.”

              “Sorry, sir,” Kiexek said, his antennae curling so low they were almost folded down to his head.  “The engine damage caused additional problems in the power systems, which apparently affected the emitter.  I’m losing the lock.”

              “The cutter is coming back around!” the sensor officer called.  “Firing!”

              The ship rocked.  Kreighton cursed his decision to shift most of
Kingston
’s shields forward.  It had made sense at the time, since there had been no attacker within sensor range and the biggest threat had been from the rocks and debris in the rings.  Even using the ship’s guns to cut a path out of the debris field hadn’t reassured him too much, he’d not wanted to even out the shields and then ram into a rock that hadn’t been vaporized by the forward cannons.

              “All engines off line!” the sensor officer called, sounding panicked.  “Hyperdrive nacelles have been destroyed!”

              “Shoot that thing!” Kreighton all but screamed at his tactical officer.

              But it was too late.  The cutter raced in, perfectly timing the run.  They let off another salvo, hitting the dorsal side of the corvette, then cutting acceleration, flipping 180 degrees and braking hard, the pirate ship got in range just for a moment and in that moment, fired bucking cables and grapples.  The grapples hooked on to the tug and in that exact instant, the cutter flipped around and raced away, their prize hooked securely in their net. 

              “Go, helm!” Gokon shouted. 

              The helmsman jammed the levers forward and the cutter accelerated at maximum military power, as much as was possible while towing a large mass behind them.  The corvette attempted to fire at them, but their shots were uncoordinated and ultimately ineffective.  A cheer went up among the crew of the entire ship as
Toroj
tore off away from the planet and the rest of the ships. 

              After a few minutes under acceleration, Gokon nodded.  “All right.  Helm, cut acceleration.  Bring us back under stealth.  I know that the cargo won’t be shielded, but we don’t need to worry about that.  In a short while, we’ll be out of sensor range of anything there.  And alter course four degrees to port, two degrees down below the plane of the ecliptic.  I don’t want them to know exactly where to find us.”

              “Sir,” Hovin said, turning to face him.  “We have a problem.”

              “
Skekt
!  I was so close, Hovin.  Do not ruin my otherwise perfect day with bad news.”

              The man gulped.  “I’m sorry, Trammen, but it’s important.”

              “What is it?” Gokon snapped irritably.

              “The tug,” he said.  “It’s too big for us.  We can’t bring it aboard and simply latching it onto the hull will prevent us from going into hyper.  The same if leave it hanging on the bucking cables.”

              Gokon froze, thinking. 
Then we have no other choice.  I’ll have to go home and get help.
  “Very well.  We’ll get to the hyper limit, come to a complete stop, drop a beacon on our prize and then release it.  We’ll need to make sure we mark the point where we drop it and then we jump for Tyseus.  Once there, we get one of my Lord’s larger vessels to come back here and pick up the prize.  It’s a bit beat up,” he was willing to admit, “but there must be
something
that the tech can use.  Continue on course.” 
A palpable victory
.

              “What’s the damage, Chief?” Kreighton asked.  Using maneuvering thrusters, they’d managed to bring the ship on a vector away from the planet, reducing the
Kingston
’s speed to a crawl and pointed the ship away from the planet.  They had emerged from the rings on a course going ”up” from the rings, which would have carried the ship on a course away from the planet, so it really wasn’t a worry.

              “It’s not good, Captain,” the man answered over the comms from engineering.  “Engines two and three are a total loss.  But with a few days work, I think we can get engine one back.  But it’s the hyperdrive that’s the biggest problem.”

              “Both nacelles were destroyed, were they not?” Kreighton asked, rubbing his temples.

              “I’m afraid so,” the engineer said, clearly worried.  “And we don’t have the parts or equipment to fabricate new ones. 
Kingston
isn’t going anywhere without either a hyperspace tow or a whole whack of new parts.  We need help from back home.”

              “Do what you can with the other repairs, Chief,” the captain told him.  “Bridge out.”  He cut the connection.  “Comms, contact the freighters.  The
Idelle Ganymede
, she’s from one of the civilian companies back home, if I’m not mistaken.”

              “Yes, sir, what am I to tell them?”

              Kreighton gritted his teeth before he answered.  It galled him to have to give the order.  “Tell them out situation and request that they make a run home to request help.”

              “Yes, sir.”

              “Tell them we’re going to try and make a run to the habitable world in this system, since it’s going to take them the better part of a month to get back there.  I want us in a place where we can more easily get help and we know that any ships that come into the system will have to stop there to buy and sell goods and resupply.”

              “Understood, sir,” the comms tech replied, sending the message.

              [We have lost one of the gatherers.]  Golkakchuck-Golden-Entropy noted.  [A rock strike at a precise angle.  There was nothing that could be done.]

              Torinal-Winged-Harmony floated ponderously over to its fellow.  [Is there any chance of recovery?]

              [No.  The Grienien worm inside the gatherer shell was killed on impact.  We could recover the shell and perhaps we should, but…]  He paused.  [The vermin are moving.  One of them is moving to intercept the gatherer.]

              [Intercept?] the Decider replied.  [What do they expect to do with it?  The Grienien worm is dead.  The gatherer is a dead construct, it can no longer project gravity fields, why would they want it?]

              [They are vermin.] Jocana-Swift-Soaring put in.  [Who knows why they do anything, Decider?]

              [Perhaps they want to discern how the gatherers can create artificial micro singularities.] Torinal-Winged-Harmony replied.  [You were the one of us to notice that the vermin constructs do not use projected gravity fields as a form of propulsion.]

              [But that will prove futile.  The gravity drive is projected by the Grienien worms, not through any sort of technology on the gatherers.  They will learn nothing.]  Golkakchuk-Golden-Entropy grumped.

              [They are vermin.] Jocana-Swift-Soaring repeated.  [They are barbarous animals.  Perhaps they want the gatherer so they can
eat
the Grienien worm inside.]  There were amused EM pulses from everyone aboard the great vessel.

Chapter 20

              “Colonel, we have a ship coming in toward the shipyard and they’re asking to speak with you,” the comms officer reported and Gants looked up from his reports.

              Gants heaved a sigh of frustration.  There was always something, something to keep pulling him away from these damned reports.  He didn’t want to be working on them anyway, but they were necessary.  He pressed the control on his desk. 
It never ends
.  “What ship?”

              “
Idelle Ganymede
, sir.  A freighter based here, sir.  It’s a Rotheram Transport ship, sir, and they’ve just come back from Bimawae.”

              Gants blinked.  “Are we expecting to get a resupply shipment from them?”

              “Nothing on the schedule, sir.”

              He sighed heavily.  “All right, put them through.” 
This had better not be a waste of my time.
  The display activated and he saw a human woman of middle age, who looked nervous to be addressing the commander of the system’s largest warship.  “Gants here.”

              The woman cleared her throat.  “This is Porphyria Rotheram, captain of the
Idelle Ganymede
.”  Then she paused.

              Gants nodded.  “Yes, Captain, how can I help you today?”

              She seemed to quail under his gaze but then she rallied.  “Yes, Colonel.  I have a message for you from one of your ships at Bimawae.  The
Kingston
?”

              “What about the
Kingston
?  What happened?”  His heart was hammering in his chest. 
Stars, did I sent that ship to its destruction?  Is the crew dead?  Speak quicker, woman!

              “They were attacked.  There was a pirate ship that showed up, hit
Kingston
and then raced away.”

              Gants let out a breath.  “Wait, you said you had a message?” 

              “Yes, actually. 
Kingston
had taken damage in the attack and their hyperspace engines were destroyed, so obviously they weren’t going to be making the trip back to Seylonique.  Captain Kreighton wanted me to bring back the message to you.”

              “What message?”  The constant pounding of his heart was slowing. 
They were still alive.

              She nodded.  “Oh, yes, of course, I’m rambling on here.  The ship had taken some damage, but thankfully, no serious casualties.  And now they need help to get home.”

              His mouth tightened to a thin line.  “I see.  Do you have any sensor data that you could send over about the fight?”

              Porphyria nodded.  “Of course.  I mean,
Idelle Ganymede
’s sensors aren’t the same as a warship’s but I did manage to get a picture of the whole event.”

              “Excellent, would you send me a copy?”             

              She nodded again.  “Of course.  You just need to get permission from the home office and I’ll happily turn over my sensor records.”

              “The home… Are you kidding me?  One of my ships falls under attack and you’re hiding behind bureaucratic red tape?”  He was nearly out of his chair on his feet in his fury.

              She flinched.  “I’m sorry, Captain, I mean
Colonel
, but my hands are tied.  Rotheram Transport has very strict rules governing turning over proprietary records-“

              “Proprietary records?!” Gants almost shouted.  “I don’t care about your merchant practices or the technology used on your ship.  I care about the people on that ship back there in Bimawae.”

              She gave a grim smile.  “I do understand your position, Colonel, but as I said, my hands are tied.  If you want the records, you’ll have to appeal for them to the Home office.  Good day.”  And she cut the connection.

              “Damn it!” Gants shouted.  He slammed a hand down on the controls.  “Paxton, get in here!” he all but bellowed.

              Two seconds later, the ship’s first officer came pelting into the ready room, looking for threats.  “Are you all right, Colonel?”

              “No, I am
not
all right, XO,” Gants said, rocketing to his feet and pacing around the room.  “Apparently,
Kingston
has come under attack.”  Seeing Paxton’s angered response, he went on.  “I know.  It seems there was some sort of altercation there in Bimawae and the ship came under attack from a pirate ship.”

              Paxton blinked.  “A pirate ship?”

              “Yes, that’s what the captain of the cargo ship I just talked to said.”

              “Well, did he say what kind of pirate ship?  One of those big cruisers that was here during the battle for the Outer System?”

              “It’s a she, actually and no.  She didn’t say.  Just a ‘pirate ship’.  But apparently
Kingston
took some damage from this attacker and is now sitting, disabled, in Bimawae.”

              He let out a long breath.  “Well, sir, I guess that’s some good news anyway.  That she wasn’t destroyed, I mean.  What do we do now?”

              Gants swung his arms back and forth and let out a groan.  “I don’t know.  What I want to do is get the big girl fired up and go out there and find
Kingston
and bring them all home.”  He stopped, facing the bulkhead and away from his XO, putting his hands on his hips.  “But I know we have another month’s worth of work before this ship is ready.”

              “About that, sir, yes.”

              “Then we’ll have to send someone else.  I want to send Greer, but he’s already made noises that his patrol is meant to be out at the gas mine, not here at the shipyard, so I think I’ll give him what he wants and keep him here in the system.”

              “So you’re thinking of sending a destroyer?”

              Gants turned and faced the man.  “I need to have a ship that’s big enough to be able to handle anything they might encounter there in the system and they’re the biggest we’ve got.”

              “So who to send?” Paxton asked.  “We’ve got a number of ships that are on patrol in the inner system, are we choosing one of them?”

              “No,” Gants said in response.  “We’ll send
Equinox
.  Get with the people in Ordnance and Supply, and make sure that that ship is stuffed to the bulkheads with spares and parts to fix up
Kingston
.  I’ll get the orders cut for you.  If you need to, talk with the yard manager here and see what she can do to facilitate.

              Paxton nodded.  “Yes, sir.  I’ll start making calls right away.”

              “And I need to send a message to the Rotheram Home offices to get that damned captain of theirs to release their sensor logs of the attack.”  He ran his hands over his head.  “I want to know what the hell they were fighting over.”

              “Well, sir,” Paxton said as he gestured to the door for himself to leave and received a nod in confirmation, “They
are
pirates.  Our people don’t really need an excuse to fight them, and sadly, nor do they for us.  They’re pirates, sir,” he repeated.

              “They are that, Mister Paxton.  Carry on.”

              “Councilor, we’re approaching the planet,” Commander Reshi Dharvhan reported to her Uncle.  There was little room for the Councilor on
Spirit
’s very cramped bridge, and certainly nowhere for the man to sit, so he stood to the side of her command seat, making sure that he stayed out of the bridge crew’s way.  It was easy enough, the five ship convoy was simply coasting along, coming into Heb.  It was merely a matter of course corrections, there was no danger detected.

              “Thank you, Commander,” he replied, resting one hand on the back of her chair.  “If you could please open a channel to the government house?  I’d like to speak with the head of the city.  I think his title was governor?”

              “Comms, you heard the man,” Reshi ordered.  “Send a message to the planet.  Give our identification and let them know we wish to speak with the governor of the city.  We’re here to trade and to speak about mutually beneficial matters.”

              The man seated at the communications console nodded in acknowledgement and then turned to his console to compose the message.

~~~~~*~~~~~

              “Governor, we’re receiving a transmission from a vessel in orbit, says the name of the ship is the
Spirit
.”

              Acheron Val looked up from the never ending mountain of paperwork on his desk.  There were always reports, schedules, memorandums, among many others.  There were often times when Val asked himself,
Why in the hell did I ever want this job?
  “The
Spirit
?  I don’t know any ship by that name.”

              “They say they’re here to discuss trade and ‘mutually beneficial matters’,” his aide Rodney told him.

              Acheron blinked.  “That certainly sounds inviting.  But other than the name of the ship we don’t have anything else on these people?”

              The aide shook his head.  “No, Governor, I’m sorry.  They haven’t sent any follow up message.”

              He frowned for a moment, but then his expression changed to one of fear.  “You don’t think this is another of the Warlord’s ships, do you?  Mutually beneficial meaning we pay and he lets us live to keep paying?”

              Rodney considered this.  “I suppose it could be, Governor,” he said after a long moment.  “But it didn’t have the feel of a threat.  More of someone looking for trade and profit.”

              “All right.  Where do I talk with them?  Are they coming down or do they expect a reply?”

              Rodney led him over to the other seat in the governor’s office which held the communications console purchased from the
Grania Estelle
over a year ago.  It certainly didn’t fit in with the wood paneling and the more formal atmosphere of the rest of the office, but it was a much more modern piece of equipment than anything his own people had yet produced.  But they were working on it.  He sat down in front of the console and Rodney reached over and tapped a few controls.  “Are you ready, sir?”

              Acheron took a deep breath, let it out slowly, centering himself.  After two more seconds of forced relaxation, he nodded.  “Go ahead.”

              Rodney pressed the last button and a display popped into life, showing a standby message.  A moment later, a face appeared: a male zheen wearing a surcoat with an unfamiliar crest.  Acheron mentally tensed.  It wasn’t the same sort of livery that the Warlord’s people used, but it might be another of his ships, or perhaps even another faction?  “This is the
Spirit
,” the zheen replied. 

              “This is Acheron Val, Governor of the city of Vanoria.  I wish to speak with the commanding officer of your vessel.”  He tried to make himself sound confident, though he’d been rocked with fear at the sight of the zheen’s face.

              The zheen paused for a moment.  “Wait one.  Please hold for Councilor Chakrabarti.”  And the screen blanked, showing the standby message again.

              Acheron blinked. 
A Councilor?  What did that mean?  Was the Warlord now sending over a new person to govern what he considered his property?
  He could feel himself starting to sweat. 

              He wasn’t forced to wait more than thirty seconds before the screen lit back up again.  This time is was a human, a man, not elderly, per se, but certainly older than Acheron.  His skin was a dusky brown and his eyes showed a glint that Acheron couldn’t quite decode. 
Was that malice?  Humor?
  “This is Governor Val,” he repeated now to this new person.  “I understand you wanted to speak with me?  Forgive me, I was expecting the commanding officer of the ship.”

              The other man laughed.  “Oh, forgive us up here, Governor.  No, I’m not the commander of the
Spirit
, but I am the commander of this mission.”

              “I see,” Val replied.  “And what exactly is your mission here?  And if you’ll forgive my bluntness, who are you exactly?”

              The man nodded.  “Of course, what am I thinking?  My name is Sebastian Chakrabarti, I’m a member of the administratory council in Seylonique and we’re here-“

              “Seylonique?” Acheron interrupted as relief and confusion flooded through him.

              Chakrabarti sighed.  “Apparently I need to speak with my communications people about being more open when introducing ourselves.  Yes, I got your message that you sent on with Captain Hogan on the FP tanker ship.”

              “You’re here… You brought a warship here…” Val stuttered. 
What the hell is happening?

              “I brought ships so that we could discuss a mutual defense pact,” the man replied.  “I have no intention of imposing our will anywhere.  You asked for our assistance and I’m here to see what we can work out.”