A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (8 page)

              Nazan checked his own displays. 
Angara
was engaged with a few gunboats, but it looked as though she was keeping them at bay, though barely, and was getting some assistance from Korqath’s Aplora squadron. 
Maitland
was holding off the remaining corvette, and as he watched, the FP ship launched a vicious salvo of missiles into the other corvette’s flank, tearing it apart.  Before his eyes, the ship exploded outward and
Maitland
swooped stately past, turning to presumably lend assistance to
Angara
.

              “Well, we’re all still spaceworthy,” Nazan noted, rubbing his chin.  “Can’t say much more than that.”

              “Captain, assuming no serious course changes, those cruisers will be in weapons’ range in thirty seconds,” Alys reported, her words portending doom.

              “Stay with us, Leytenant,” Nazan said to Rujarrik on the display.  Then he looked up.  “Helm, set a course around the gas giant.  Best speed but keep us with
Eridain
.  We’re heading for the mine.”

              “Aye, sir,” the helmsman replied, engaging the ship’s engines.

              Nazan did some quick calculations.  Even at their present reduced acceleration,
Cavalier
and
Eridain
could outrun the incoming heavy cruiser, but they had no way of outrunning the two light cruisers.  Ships like that normally didn’t have the grunt to catch a pair of corvettes, but now?  It would be child’s play to run them down and blast them apart.  And with
Maitland
and
Angara
out on their own, the cruisers would mop up and move in. 

             
Our only real hope at this point is Korqath and his pilots. 
He grunted. 
Never thought I would be pinning my survival on the skill of a zheen.  Of
that
zheen
.

              “Coming into range now of the first enemy ship, my lord,” Jensen Tyler reported, standing by the tactical station.  His voice was as filled with anticipation as Verrikoth himself felt.  After far too long “racing” across space to get into the battle, it was high time,
past
time to clear
Nemesis
’s guns. 

              “Excellent,” the zheen replied, his fists clenching and unclenching.  “Target that sship.”  He checked one of the displays in front of him and saw that the local corvette was busy trying to hold off one of Typhon’s corvettes.  It was the
last
of Typhon’s corvettes, Verrikoth thought, hissing in contempt.  One on one, it appeared that the local ship was going to be the better in the engagement.  “Not any more…”

              “All heavy lasers and turbolasers targeted, my Lord,” Tyler replied. 

              “Then by all meanz, Commander,” the pirate lord said, waving one hand grandiosely,

              Tyler nodded to the tactical officer.  “Engage!”

              The heavy cruiser’s forward turbolasers opened up, a wave of coherent energy washed out, lancing over from the pirate flagship to the local corvette.  The sleek, stubby winged corvette was raked from stem to stern.  Five full seconds of pounding later and the ship exploded. 

              “We’ve got three escape pods flying away from the ship, Commander,” the tactical operator reported, pointing to the display. 

              Tyler nodded.  “Shoot them down.”  The words were barely out of his mouth when three of the ship’s turrets opened fire.  Three shots, three escape pods vaporized.  With a nod, the commander turned to Verrikoth.  “Target destroyed, my Lord.”

              The pirate lord was on his feet, mouthparts writhing in glee.  “I love thiss sship!  Find uss another target, Commander,” the zheen demanded, sitting himself back down on the command seat with a royal air.  “I believe there is another corvette out there that has been causing our forces considerable difficulty.”

              Tyler’s smile was infectious.  “Of course, my Lord.  It will be a pleasure.  Helm, bring us to two-five-seven.”

              Verrikoth watched as
Ganges
and
Illuyanka
broke formation and raced into the fray, chasing after the two corvettes that were attempting to cover each other.  It was a smart move, but futile.  Two light cruisers would make short work of the two smaller ships.  Their only hope would be to try and outrun the larger ships, but it appeared that both ships had suffered significant engine or hull damage, preventing higher levels of acceleration.  They were helpless.  His antennae swirled in large loops.  “Only a matter of time.”

              “No!” Tariq cried, unable to stop his outburst as the image of
Angara
exploded on the main display.  The heavy cruiser moved into range and obliterated it, then just for spite, shot down the escaping crew with three perfectly placed shots, as though turbolaser bolts were being rationed.

              But there was no time for grief.  They had their own skins to look out for.  “Captain!” Alys called, her voice going up a few octaves.  “The light cruisers are accelerating.  They’re coming straight after us.”

              “Shades,” he swore.  He looked down at Rujarrik’s image on the chair display.  “Can you get any more acceleration?”

              The wolf looked to the side, speaking to someone off camera.  Then she turned back.  “No, Captain.  We’re pretty well maxed out.  And with the accel those cruisers are piling on, we’re only going to barely make it to the mine before they get into weapons’ range.”

              He gritted his teeth.  “Alys, ready weapons.  Maybe if we can throw a salvo of missiles in their teeth, the cruisers might pause long enough for us to make it to the mine.”

              “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the defensive turrets around the mine, Captain,” Rujarrik noted.  Then she flicked her ears, tipping her head to one side for a second.  “Not that I have any better idea.  And there are six of them.”

              “They can throw a
lot
of missiles at those ships.”

              “Might give them pause,” the lupusan admitted.  “I only wish I could get some more speed out of this ship.”

              “Just ready your weapons, Leytenant,” Tariq told her.  “Once they’re in range, we throw everything we can at them and…”

              “Pray?” Rujarrik asked, one ear flat to her skull and the other up.

              “I was going to say do our best,” Tariq said with a frown.  He was having a hard time keeping his breathing calm.  This was all going to hell, and as those cruisers were very quickly closing the gap he could feel the noose tightening. 
Where’s that miracle?

              The missile fabrication was going apace.  There was already a production line for the weapons, with technicians and bots, with a smart computer running the whole thing.  It wasn’t as big or fast or impressive as the ones Tamara used to have back at the Hudora shipyard, but for their needs now it was adequate.  Or rather, it
was
until a whopping great fleet came storming into the system and they needed a pile of missiles in a hurry.  So far, there was about a hundred missiles ready, with another fifty in the pipeline, though whether they’d be ready by the time those ships got here was unlikely.  Still a hundred missiles wasn’t anything to sneer at.  Even a trio of cruisers would be hard pressed to shoot down that many projectiles before their fire control was saturated.

              Tamara had the techs and bots working, with the station AI overseeing the whole operation and ran down to the hangar bay.  The strike team was prepping to depart, the shuttle nearly ready for launch.  She rushed up to the hatch of the shuttle, a fist-sized box in her hand.

              “Come to see us off, Boss?” Ekaterina asked, laughing.  She was wearing a skinsuit to move around in vacuum, with unpowered combat armor over that.  She had her armorglass bubble helmet in her hands, ready to fit over her head. 

              She shook her head, handing over the device.  “No, to give you this.”

              The bodyguard took the small box and examined it from various angles.  “What is it?”

              “A lockbox,” Tamara replied.  “That ship you’re going after is old.  I remember it from back in the old days.  And, it’s very old Federation technology, tech I happen to be familiar with.”  Seeing the impatient look on the lupusan’s face, she hurried on.  “Long story, tell you when you get back.  Anyway, you won’t need to blast your way in.  You get to an airlock or cargo hatch and that little baby will slice right through their access codes.  It won’t access the mainframes, but it should open any door on that ship.”

              Ekaterina looked at first the device and then Tamara with new respect.  “Thanks, Boss,” she said.  She placed it in a pocket.  “I’ll be sure it gets used.”

              “And here,” she said, presenting a data card to the wolf, “Is the best layout Magnus and I could mock up for you for that ship from my own memories and what we had on various databases.  It won’t be fully accurate, but it should give you a general idea of where to go for the most critical and vulnerable areas.”  Ekaterina nodded.  “Good hunting,” Tamara said, patting her arm, awkwardly.  Then she stepped back.

              Ekaterina yipped.  “Boss, if I get back alive, then you, me, Chief Nymeria, the Serzhant and Nymeria’s sister need to go on a hunt.  A proper hunt.”

              “You’d bring a lowly human, a prey animal, on a hunt with a bunch of scary predators?” Tamara demanded, aghast.  “I mean, I’m flattered, really, but I don’t want to be someone’s dinner.”

              “Aw, come on, Boss,” she replied with a grin, flicking her ears.  “It’d be fun.”

              “Get back here alive and I’ll consider it,” Tamara said, hardening her face, refusing to tear up.

              “Let’s go!” Marat shouted from the cockpit.

              “Gotta go, Boss,” she said.  She gave a lazy salute and then jumped through the hatch, which slid shut behind her.  Tamara watched as a moment later the shuttle lifted off and screamed out of the bay.  Turning, she walked out of the hangar, bringing up her implants and accessing the station communications.

              Pulling off into a small alcove, she accessed her HUD and a window with the face of one of the Vision pilots appeared.  “Pilot, this is Tamara Samair.”

              The human started.  “Ma’am!  Nothing to report.  My flight and I are holding position near the tank farm above the mine.”

              “Good,” she replied.  “I’m changing your tasking.”

              “Commander Korqath ordered us here,” the man said.  “We’re supposed to guard the tank farm and the fuel.”

              “It’s important, yes, but I have a strike mission for you,” she told him.  “And it’s vital to the security of the system.”

              “I understand,” the man said, straightening in his pilot’s couch.  “What is it you want us to do?”

              She’d just finished with the instructions to the fighters when a call came in to her from Magnus.  “Tamara, Tiyaana Moreetz is trying to contact you.”

              She pulled up her HUD, accessing the Operations Chief’s display up in the command center directly.  “What is it, Tiyaana?”

              Tamara could see the other woman.  She looked haggard.  “Ma’am.  The
Angara
.  It’s gone.”

              Tamara blinked.  “Gone?  What?”

              “The cruisers have closed with the battlespace,” she explained, tears running down her cheeks.  “The bigger one got close enough and caught
Angara
before she could get away.  They just blasted her apart, Ma’am.”

              “Damn,” Tamara swore, leaning one hand against a bulkhead to steady herself.  It wasn’t like it was a surprise, not really.  The ships and crews had been built and recruited to fight and defend FP’s assets.  There was always the hope that they wouldn’t die in the line of duty, but of course, it was always a remote possibility.  And she was an old Navy hand.  Death was expected in battle, especially when fighting a superior force like this one.  But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

              “What’s the status of the battle?” she managed to ask.

              “
Cavalier
and
Eridain
are still together and they look as though they’re heading back our way.”

              “Probably to take advantage of the defensive cover from the turrets,” Tamara said.

              “Yes, Ma’am,” Tiyaana nodded.  “But those two light cruisers are racing along behind.  They’re going to catch them just before they get in range of our defenses.”

              “Damn it.”  Breaking into a run, Tamara headed back for the compartments for the missiles.  They needed to get those birds ready and in the air, now.  “I’m heading for the fabrication floor.  Let them know I’m coming.”