“Proceed, Thresh,” Poledri said. “Noland, put a surveillance probe up in orbit. I want to know the instant any Union ships come heading this way.”
Boyd followed Thresh along the central corridor of the Fist. She was an old ship and had been through the ringer on more than one occasion, but the crew respected her and treated her well. Apart from the obvious chips and scuffs on the composite, the corridors, and operational bays, it was neat and ordered. It was what Boyd would expect on a Union vessel, but he’d always imagined Faction crews to be slovenly, lazy, and highly untidy. He was starting to think some of his assumptions needed to be revised.
“You thought we’d had it back there, didn’t you?” Thresh asked, turning back and looking at Boyd. “I saw how nervous you were when we engaged that Union ship.”
Boyd was confident that he had not displayed any emotion when attacking the Union ship. He knew by taking the undercover operations in the Faction that he would have to act like a pirate, and if he was to have any chance of getting close to Kitzov, he would have to become one of the most ruthless pirates in the system. The destruction of the Truth was collateral damage. Friendly fire. In close combat, comrades were killed. In total war, there was no room for emotion except fierce rage. If Boyd felt anything at all, he felt an even stronger desire to bring the Faction down.
“You know your way around the weapons systems. Not bad for an engineer,” Boyd said.
“As a pilot, you should know your way around the drive system. Let’s see if you’re as good a pilot as you think you are.” Thresh smiled at Boyd, her eyes fixed on his.
“There are other maintenance crew on the ship,” Boyd said. “Why did you request for me to come and help you?”
“It’s good for a pilot to understand the systems. Besides, I didn’t think you’d mind creeping around in the dark with me for an hour.” She flashed a wicked smile.
Boyd removed an access panel in the drive room and started a subsystem-by-subsystem diagnostic, finding the weak points and how to restore symmetry to the reactor.
Thresh connected a diagnostic tool to one subsystem after another. She worked in silence, totally focused on the task. Boyd moved to the next panel and took a sideways glance. Thresh had an intensity in her focus, her eyes wide as she went about her task. She clearly knew and loved her work.
“That’s the problem,” Thresh said. “The primary reactor is going to need a complete shutdown. Fresh fuel rods. A complete scrape and relining.”
“I’m not sure the secondary core is in any better state,” Boyd said, watching her tapping away on a diagnostic tool.
“And we are a long way from any Faction base. I guess we’ll just have to do a dirty scrub, move some fuel rods around a bit and see if we can regain symmetry. We should be able to get at least two or three billion kilometers more out of her.”
“Do you really think we can get that much from a hack-job?”
Thresh turned and smiled at Boyd. “I always get what I want.”
Boyd found her confidence and her impudence amusing and exciting.
“What would you like me to do for you first?” he asked.
“Fuel rods, flyboy. And I’ll open up the core. Move.” And then Thresh was focused on her task again.
Boyd completed the fuel rod realignment and waited while Thresh completed the dirty scrub of the core—a running repair that would never have been permitted on a Union ship. When the Resolute had taken damage to its primary core during the Battle of Merchant Run, she had completely shut down the primary core and fell back onto secondary systems, which were only allowed to be used to return to port for full maintenance.
But here on the Odium Fist, Boyd was running on a primary reactor that was never far from catastrophic asymmetry. It was terrifying, exciting, and completely stupid. Just like his feelings for Thresh. She was a pirate. She was Faction. She was dangerous.
Boyd replaced the final end of the panel, and Thresh admired her work on the diagnostic tool.
And then the alert from the flight deck.
“Ship incoming. All flight deck crew to stations. We don’t know who it is, but they are coming in fast. Poledri out.”
14
The Resolute raced across the system. Fresh contact reports were flickering up on the holo-stage every second. Skarak ships appeared throughout the belt and even the inner system. Three large Skarak vessels had broken cover from the sunward of Proxima, the tidally-locked innermost planet with its permanently-burning surface—a blind spot for the Union and clearly a good hiding place for the Skarak. The three ships engaged a nearby Union carrier patrolling the inner system.
The nearest Skarak to Terra was only a million kilometers away from the Union central world. As its power systems came online, the Skarak ship appeared as if from nowhere. It lit up on holo-displays across the Union, causing a frantic scramble of Terra’s defense. The carrier permanently assigned to Terra’s orbital defense was dispatched to engage the Skarak craft, and the battle was about to be joined.
The Resolute’s target was just inside the belt.
A Skarak ship was moving along a Union shipping lane, destroying freighters and transports as it went.
Moving in to meet the Skarak vessel head on, the Resolute came swiftly into range.
“All weapons to full power. Stand by. Fire when in range. Open a channel to the fleet and inform command we are about to engage the enemy.”
The Resolute moved in with a weaving approach to reduce the chance of becoming targeted by the Skarak’s weapons. And then the blue beam, devastatingly powerful, blasted out from between the ship’s rapiers, narrowly missing the Resolute as she moved back and forth across her heading. Dodging and weaving like a featherweight boxer, she avoided the incoming assault.
And then the Resolute opened fire.
The spitz guns erupted with a rapid-fire salvo. Billions of degrees of thermal energy raced across space and flickered over the hull of the Skarak ship, every point of contact vaporizing a small but measurable portion of the ship’s strange hull.
As the spitz guns paused to cool the emitters, the high-energy laser delivered its own devastating fire. The laser beam lanced out, appearing to strike the hull of the Skarak ship instantaneously, the beam appearing and then disappearing, the only evidence of its having been there as a white-hot target point on the Skarak hull.
The Skarak ship turned on the Resolute, forgetting about its defenseless prey to turn and defend itself against Featherstone’s ship.
The Resolute was only a support ship. This battle was a job for a cruiser, or a squadron of Blades, but every ship had to engage. The Resolute’s strength was in her maneuverability, and her surprisingly impressive arsenal.
“She’s bringing her primary weapon to the fight. Hit them with everything we’ve got.” Featherstone worked quickly on his armrest console, glancing at the information displayed on the main holo-stage. The command deck crew was all focused on their individual tasks.
The Skarak primary weapon blasted out from within the rapiers, the crackling, tortured beam slamming into the Resolute.
Lights on the command deck flickered. The holo-stage dropped out momentarily and then came back online.
“Deflector shield down to thirty percent. Hull stability field holding strong,” Dorik called from the defensive systems console.
“Move us in close and keep us out of that energy beam. Target the forward area in the middle of all those spikes.” Featherstone jumped down from his command chair and moved quickly around the command deck, checking one console after another.
“Mass beam target acquired. All the weapons are focused on the same target area,” Cronin said. “Firing now.”
The mass beam slammed into the Skarak ship, collapsing one of the long arms at its base where it extended out from the main body of the craft. It tumbled off into space. Gray ooze spilled from the wound. The spitz guns and the laser slammed into the Skarak ship’s nose.
The blue crackling beam le
apt forward again, rippling over the long rapiers, and arced away in huge looping waves like blue plasma storms on the surface of the Scorpio star. The energy loops wrapped themselves around the Resolute and held it in its grip, flickering over the ship, crackling across its hull, and moving toward the drive system.
“Deflector shield inoperative. Forward deflector emitters are offline. Hull stability field holding, but it’s failing fast,” Dorik said.
“Break us free,” Featherstone said. He dashed over to the pilot’s chair and stood behind Hemel.
Featherstone had never found a replacement for Boyd at the helm, but he didn’t know if even Boyd would be able to maneuver out of this deadly embrace.
“They are drawing us in,” Dorik said. He left his console and walked over to the holo-stage, drawn to the image of the massive Skarak vessel.
“Man your station, Sergeant,” Featherstone shouted across the command deck.
Dorik clutched his gut and bent forward, clutching his temples.
“Doc, get Sergeant Dorik out of here,” Featherstone said, running over to the weapons console.
“Combat drone loaded into forward tube,” Cronin said as Featherstone took over.
“At this range, we’ll lose our forward bulkheads,” Dorik said. “Shielding is almost completely gone.” He collapsed to the deck in a heap.
“We will lose them all if we don’t shake this energy beam,” Featherstone said. “Launching combat drones. That blast is going to hit us hard. Brace for impact.”
The combat drone leapt away from the forward tube. It instantly lost direction as it caught the edge of the crackling blue energy beam wrapped around the Resolute. Spitz guns targeting went wayward, and the barrage of pulse rounds slammed into the Skarak ship at random. The laser slammed into the forward section where the blue crackling energy beam was being generated.
Another blow from the mass beam, and another of the spikes fell away. The blue beam lost its grip, and the Resolute broke away.
“Put everything into the drive and get us out of here before that combat drone hits.” Featherstone climbed back up into his command chair.
“Coming about,” Hemel said. “Engaging drive.”
The combat drone reacquired its target and went spiraling in toward the Skarak ship. Blue flaming balls of crackling energy blasted out toward the incoming drone in huge pulses.
Once in range, the drone collapsed its antimatter shielding and detonated. The last moment before detonation, the Resolute turned and jumped to high speed.
The glowing, billowing cloud of plasma fire engulfed the forward section of the Skarak ship, and blue crackling energy sliced out at random as she was destroyed.
Cronin helped Dorik to his feet. The sergeant was pale and weak.
Featherstone looked over at his sergeant with concern.
“I’ll get him checked out, sir,” Cronin said.
Featherstone nodded, just as a call from Colonel Lawrence appeared on the main holo-stage.
“We’ve got reports of Skarak ships all across the system. They are more than a match for the smaller Union ships and we are taking losses, but we look to have them on the run. What is your status, Charles?”
“I’ve just taken out a Skarak ship in the belt. We have sustained heavy damage to all systems. Their energy weapon dragged down our shielding with a couple of blasts.”
“Good work, Resolute. Get to a ground base for post-battle service.”
“Sir,” Featherstone said. “One of my team is on task in the Faction. I need to be active if he needs support.”
The colonel nodded. “I’ll send a maintenance ship to you as soon as I can. It looks like we’ve cleared the inner system. No more Skarak ships are appearing. We have surveillance ships running a system-wide sweep, and it looks as if all surviving Skaraks are heading out of the system. They are all breaking cover from where they had been hiding and leaving.”
“What started them off? Why start attacking us now?” Featherstone asked.
“If only we knew that. What we do know is we have to strengthen our fleet and keep a close watch on our borders. We can’t let these Skaraks surprise us again.”
Featherstone nodded. “Something tells me they will be back.”
15
Boyd dropped into the pilot’s chair and looked at the surveillance feed from the probe in orbit. The signal was heading directly toward them, racing across space. As it came closer, it began to resolve as two separate signals.
“Hold position. Even if they know we are in the clouds, it’ll take them ages to find us. Hold position.” Poledri remained calm, but he was leaning forward, studying every slight change in the probe’s readings.
Boyd checked and double-checked his console. The Fist was floating along merrily in the density stream. If he was ordered to leave, he could punch his way back into space in a moment and be dodging the incoming ships in the asteroids of the sphere. The drive would give him speed and maneuverability enough to hold them off. And if it looked like he was about to be destroyed, he would make sure he saved himself.
He wasn’t going down with a Faction ship. Not if he could help it.
His last act on the flight deck, should the ship come under attack by the Union, would be to terminate the Fist’s command, starting with the captain and working down the chain of command. Being a Faction ship, all crew were routinely armed with pistols. Taking the first shot was no problem. Poledri would be dead before he even knew he’d been betrayed.
Next in command was Noland, purely on the basis of the time he’d been part of Poledri’s flight deck crew. But, currently, the next in command appeared to be Thresh. Boyd considered what it would mean to gun her down. But he realized she would have no such problem with shooting and killing him. It didn’t make it an easier decision…but it was his duty.
It was the third or fourth shots that really counted. Boyd might be able to take out three or four of the Fist’s flight deck crew before others realized what was happening and fired on him. He gave himself a twenty-five-percent chance of successfully taking control of the flight deck singlehandedly.
“It’s a Faction ship,” Poledri said.
Boyd looked up at the holo-stage. The image had resolved to show a Faction ident: the Creeping Fate.
“Captain Bozilova,” Poledri said with a dry chuckle. “Thought they’d hanged him on Terra weeks ago.”
And then the second ship came into focus. Clearly a Skarak ship.
“They are chasing Bozilova,” Poledri said. “Open a channel.”
“The Skarak will detect us,” Noland said.
“We can’t leave a Faction brother in trouble. Make ready to exit the atmosphere. Stand by for action.”
Boyd had no desire to fly into combat with a Skarak ship. They were battered and would not last long in a fight. Clearly, the Creeping Fate was not at its best. She was running for her very survival.
The image of Captain Bozilova appeared on the holo-stage, flickering so that the man was barely visible. From what image there was, Boyd could see that Bozilova was a big man, tall and broad, with a huge black beard.
“Poledri, is that you?” Bozilova laughed. “Just in time to see me get blown out of the void.”
“Well, I missed your hanging, so I thought I might try and put in an appearance for your second death this month.”
The pair laughed.
“What’s your status?” Poledri asked, turning serious.
“Not good. I am about to lose all power from my main drive. Minimal weapons. I’ve only got one hail cannon. I had some combat drones that I lifted from a Union transport, but they are spent.”
“You look like you could use some help,” Poledri said. He plotted a course and sent it to Boyd at the flight console.
“I can get blown to pieces all by myself, thanks,” Bozilova said.
“Maybe I want to prevent that, just so I can book a front row seat at your next hanging,” Poledri said.
“Sounds good to me. Whe
re are you?”
“We are just leaving the atmosphere of Lastone. Slingshot around the planet and we’ll give those Skaraks a surprise.”
Boyd checked the course Poledri had sent over and the heading for the Creeping Fate. It was dangerous, and it was genius.
“Get ready to bring that hail cannon to the fight. Poledri out.”
Boyd waited until the right moment and then hit the drive. The Fist climbed up through one density layer after another, buffeted by winds as she went, before she burst out of the topmost cloud layer and soon was in orbit.
At just that moment, the Creeping Fate came in on its slingshot trajectory, dropping into the gravity well of the massive terrestrial planet and bringing the Skarak ship with it, hot on its drive section.
The Creeping Fate raced past the Odium Fist with only meters to spare. The slightest miscalculation and both ships would have been vaporized in a high-speed collision.
“Fire,” Poledri said excitedly.
With all hail cannons directed forward, the Fist blasted out a wall of hail just as the Skarak ship came over the horizon. To see another ship in its path after pursuing one for so many thousands of kilometers must have been surprising, if these aliens even thought that way.
The hail cannon rounds slammed home, and a ripple of fire spread over its forward rapiers and its fat black hull.
Then the Skarak returned fire.
The crackling blue beam leapt toward the Fist. Boyd, reacting on instinct, moved the Fist aside. The Skarak energy weapon slammed into the atmosphere of Lastone.
The Fist groaned and complained at the sudden movements.
Then the Creeping Fate completed its maneuver around the planet and came up on the Skarak’s rear, delivering a blast of hail.
Boyd took a quick glance at the available data on the Skarak ship. She could soak up that kind of damage all day long. The two Faction ships would run out of power before they could take her down.
“Captain,” Boyd said. “I can take the Skarak down. Let me use the shuttle.”
“My bus?” Poledri said.
Federation at War (Blue Star Marines Book 1) Page 12
