by Stella Cassy
“Indeed, I do know of your exploits. I calculated the exact number of fighters needed to complete this mission successfully. It seems I overestimated the firepower. If you engage in a battle with me, you will lose.”
He’s right. The battle will be unbalanced because so many of my ships stayed behind to take shore leave. “It is you who will not survive. None who move against me have lived to speak of it. Surely you have heard this, for it is known far and wide.”
“The tales are fit to strike fear into the mind of weak-minded beings. As you can see, I do not fear doing battle with my enemies.”
“Raise your chain of command on the communi-channel and alert them that when you do not return, it is because Tarion of the Hielsrane has laid waste to your vessels.”
“You risk much for one lone slave, Tarion of the Hielsrane.”
“Let them also know we will appeal to the Intergalactic Council to cease all trade with the Pax Alliance. Though it’s true that many of our member worlds have slaves, we keep them with dignity. I have seen the markings left on the brooder’s body by your people. Your version of slavery is based on ownership, abuse and greed. Our slaves are protected, trained to care properly for themselves, and treated humanely.”
“Slavery and bondage are practiced widely in the verse. Only a prideful fool attempts to dictate how a being uses his own property.”
The note of disdain in his voice drives me to threaten him with what the Pax surely fear most. I can see the fury leap on his face as my arrow hits its mark. “We will appeal to the Intergalactic Council to cease all trade with the Pax Alliance. As your people are but visitors to our sector of space, you have no right to make demands or start hostilities with a member world.”
“Think carefully about what you say, Captain. The Pax Alliance will not permit you to sour our trade with the planets of the Galactic Alliance, nor will we allow you to keep property that rightly belongs to us.”
At that moment, Carissa walks back onto the bridge and slips into an empty seat near the communications array. My chest constricts. The feeling I once thought was an exotic illness is in fact love. It can be nothing else. The Pax will have to go through me to get to her because I’ll never surrender her willingly.
Shooting Captain Emf'phet a look of resolve, my voice turns icy. “I would fly this ship into the sun rather than capitulate to a filthy slave trader like you.”
Lehar cuts the communi-channel with my nemesis screaming like a madman. He states almost cheerfully, “That went well. Do we have something approaching a plan yet?”
“There is nothing unique or special about the Pax or their fighting techniques.”
Nodding, Lehar perks up. “Alright, we’ll go with the throw everything we’ve got at them plan. That usually works.”
That’s an oversimplification of a complex plan of attack that normally works to our advantage. Why Lehar is always so happy in the face of a virtually no-win scenario, I’ll never know. He’s been like that since we were younglings, fighting with our classmates on the grassy hills of our home world.
Closing the distance between my beautiful new brooder, I stoop to buckle her securely into the seat. Her eyes are large, inquisitive and slightly apprehensive. Cupping her cheek, I kiss her chastely and give her a few words of sage advice. “Hold on tight, my sweet. This is the part where things get a bit bumpy.”
Her face isn’t as nearly worried as I feel. “I’m ready to fight. Just let me know what you need.” Her sweet words fill me with pride.
Without looking away from her, I speak to the crew, “Launch all first wave fighter drones and fire laser cannons at will. I need the flagship shields down within five microns.”
Instead of withdrawing into herself, like females are wont to do, she perks up. “That sounds just like action and adventure.”
Smothering back a smile, I try not to sound flippant or overly proud. “We’ve got less than a forty percent chance of survival, but I wouldn’t miss this battle for all the world.”
Lehar rolls his eyes. “Since we’d lose more running than fighting, we’ll have to hit them hard and fast.”
I stand as my crew flies into action. “If we win, drinks are on me. If not, it’s been a privilege serving with you.”
Along the sides of the main view screen, the secondary screens show my bay doors opening and thousands of fighter drones flying out. When they near the enemy fleet, we watch the battle playing out on the big screen. My huge hoard of drone fighters swarms the five Pax ships. They are light, maneuverable and keep chipping away at enemy shields.
“Move half of the fighters to the flagship. I need those shields to come down right fucking now.”
“I’m on it, sir.”
As my crew continues concentrating most of their laser fire on the first ship, we get a lucky strike in on one of the others. Our laser cannon makes a direct hit, knocking out one of their phase cannons and causing a huge explosion that takes them entirely out of the fight.
Lehar thumps his chest and shouts gleefully, “They’re on the drift. That’s one down and four more to go, sir.”
I’m pleased, but unlike my first officer, I’ve got no time to enjoy it. “I don’t think we’ll be quite that lucky again.”
Though our odds of survival are grim, I find myself eyeing the largest Pax vessel. It would be a wonderful addition to my armada if we won this battle. In fact, all five of the flashy battle ships would be nice trophies, proof of the strength of Tarion of the Hielsrane. Glancing at Lehar, I ask anxiously, “Are all our extended crew on board yet?”
“Just about, sir.”
“I want them all safely aboard and in their seats at the control panels below before this battle heats up.”
“The last two are docking now, sir.”
“Shields?”
“Holding at 97%.”
Within moments, the doors to the bridge open and several crew members slide into control chairs. I jerk my chin at them, and they get down to business. Dropping down into the captain’s seat, I give the go ahead. “Coordinate for a full frontal assault on my mark. Three, two, one… execute.”
Suddenly, all the drone fighters converge on the flagship and all seven ships in my armada turn their fire on the huge state-of-the-art vessel. The remaining three ships attempt to protect Emf'phet’s flagship by picking off the drones one by one. Since they haven’t been successful penetrating our shields, it is a logical course of action for them to take at this point in the battle. Cautious pride blooms in my chest. Our most trustworthy plan is working against this nearly invincible enemy.
Carissa makes a strangled noise when one of the fighter drones explodes. When one of the smaller ships in my armada falls prey to enemy fire, she quietly breaks down into tears. That’s when I realize she doesn’t know how we operate.
“There is no need to worry. There are no crew members on the other ships in my armada. We always pull the skeleton crews behind our main shield at the first sign of battle. The remaining vessels in my fleet are operated remotely.”
Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, she tries to pull herself together. “I hate our fighters being out there in harm’s way.”
Grinning, I shake my head.
Her face scrunches up into a delightfully confused expression. “They’re remote controlled too?”
“That wouldn’t be possible, since there are almost a thousand of them. You probably can’t tell because they’re far away and it’s difficult to see when there’s nothing to compare them to except the enemy ships, but they’re drones designed to look like fighters. Each one has a life-sign artificially worked into the system. It usually takes our adversary a while to figure out they’re drones, but it doesn’t matter. As long as the drones pose a threat, they must waste firepower shooting at them. It is why we swarm them in great numbers.”
“So nobody’s going to die in this battle?”
“I wish that were the case. When the time is right, we’ll release our real fighters. Our goal is t
o draw down their power reserves. Each ship only has so many energy packs to power their weapons. Our goal is to deplete their energy while saving as much of ours as possible for the real battle. Lives will be lost. There is no getting around that.”
“But this strategy minimizes the number we lose.”
Nodding, I can see she is impressed with our fighting skills.
“Sir, we’ve drawn down our drone count by fifty percent.”
“How close are we to bringing down their shields?”
“Their shields are down to forty percent.”
“Release the fighters and then pull us back just enough to provide cover fire.”
“Yes, sir.”
In my mind, the real battle starts now. We have to lower our shields for three microns to allow my fighters to move through the barrier. This normally does not cause a modicum of anxiety for me. However, now I have a beautiful brooder to consider and I do not like leaving her vulnerable. Emf'phet is an older captain, clearly well versed in the art of war. Not only is he aware of our weakness, he immediately exploits it with a sustained burst of fire from his plasma cannons directly into my primary loading bay.
“Gods of chaos, we’ve sustained a direct hit. He’s damaged a third of our fighters and isn’t letting up.”
“That’s a lot of damage considering that only half of his fire power is penetrating our shields. Pour everything we’ve got into a concentrated burst right above his primary weapon.” To use his most effective weapon, he’s had to lower his shield as well. We’re almost equally matched and hoping the Pax will misstep. If not, the success of this battle will rest upon who can hold out longer.
I realize a moment too late that victory will not be mine today. Our ship’s back up shields come down in spectacular fashion with white energy conducting along the walls and ceiling of the vessel. The energy overload doesn’t reach our control panels. Anticipating this day, we protected our consoles with a special coating to protect against conductivity long ago. With any luck, we might just have enough maneuverability left to jump to lightspeed. My mind is already formulating a strategy to get us clear of this battle so that we might live to fight another day.
16
Carissa
White tendrils of electricity crackle along the interior of the bridge, bathing the entire control room in bright light. Unable to move as vibrations ripple through the command center, my heart comes to a shuddering stop as I watch the jagged lines of electricity jump away from the computer consoles and engulf the captain’s chair.
For a brief second my eyes play tricks on me as Tarion’s face morphs into something unrecognizable. Tearing off the safety belt that he so tenderly clicked into place earlier, I scramble to his side. Unaware and uncaring of the danger, my body moves without conscious thought. Though my heart is pounding in my chest and my feet stumble, I reach him moments before his crew.
He’s about to fall to the floor when my arms wrap around him in a protective embrace. His breath is hotter than usual on my skin. It’s obvious by his scent and the dry scaly skin under my hands that he’s seriously unwell. My big, handsome, irritatingly brazen dragon is hanging on by a thread. I shout for a medic as the bite that he left on my shoulder roars to life, adrenaline radiating out from the wound and rushing through my veins.
Suddenly, there are healers converging on us. He needs more than just my love and concern to aid him in the life and death battle he’s now engaged in.
When they lift him onto a hover board, I fight back tears at the sight of one of his wings hanging limply to the side. The board isn’t high enough to keep his tail from dragging along the floor. It seems like an indignation my proud warrior should not have to suffer, even under these circumstances. While they connect a monitoring unit to one arm, I rush over and gently lift his caudal and place it alongside his unconscious body. Strange guttural noises sound off around the room. The healers and several members of the crew are staring at me in what can only be described as awe. I realize it has something to do with a woman tending to her fallen warrior.
Bending, I move a strand of hair out of his face and whisper words of affection before allowing them to take him away. Without stopping to think, I take several steps behind them before I realize the battle is not over.
Lehar is commanding as best he can, but it’s clear that with several members of the bridge crew down, he could really use a second set of eyes on this dodgy situation. My feet come to a stop as the reality of our situation hits me full force. Though I want to run to the healing unit and hover, I can’t justify hanging out there and doing nothing if my time could be better served staving off another attack. Tarion will definitely end up dead if we lose this battle.
Doing an about face, I walk over to Lehar. “What’s our status?”
Surprise registers on his face a split second before he explains in words I can understand. “Both ships’ systems overloaded at the same time. Our fighters and remaining drones are engaging the four remaining Pax vessels. With Emf'phet’s ship out of the fight, we’re close to evenly matched though the odds are in their favor.”
“I don’t like those odds. Let’s see what we do to even them out.”
“Though Emf'phet’s ship is clearly out of commission, he’s still calling the shots.”
“His shield is failing, and his weapons are offline. Have the drones converge on his ship and focus on the communications array. If my memory is correct, it’s located on the underbelly of the ship.”
“They won’t be expecting us to pull fighter drones away from an actual battle to take out Emf'phet’s communications.”
“It’s a low priority area. He’s using most of his remaining shield strength to protect his weapons.”
Lehar shouts orders to his crew and we watch the fighter drones swarm the bottom of Emf'phet’s vessel. Within moments, his communi-channel goes offline.
Lehar grins at me. “That was a smart move. The other ships are still fighting but faltering as they try to decide who is in charge.”
“I suspected they might. The Pax have strict rules about their chain of command. To have Emf'phet out of the fight but still technically in charge of his fleet will take them a second to sort out, as overstepping boundaries can result in extreme punishments. Why don’t we concentrate all our fire on the next strongest ship because they normally put the next most capable captain in charge? If we can bring that ship down, they’ll have to take a second to regroup again.”
His crew responds as soon as the words come out of my mouth. One of them sounds off. “We’ve got incoming, sir.”
Lehar leans over the control panel. “It’s three more Pax vessels. We can’t take them all on. We simply don’t have enough energy to charge the weapons.”
“Pull in all your fighters. Focus our remaining energy on the shields and negotiate a deal. Trade me for safety for you and your crew.”
“I can’t see them giving us quarter when they can simply overpower us and take what they want. Though they came for you, it’s a matter of survival now. Tarion already told them what will happen if our ship reaches a planet belonging to the Intergalactic Council. They won’t risk getting themselves thrown out of this sector of space over one slave and a pile of chromite.”
“We have more incoming.”
Lehar peers at the console and frowns. “It seems that we’re all doomed today. An insectoid swarm has appeared. They’ll take out our ships just for being in their way. How’s that for unexpected?” Lehar didn’t sound nearly as devastated as one might have expected considering his dour prediction.
“I sent out a distress call on the communi-channel in insectoid.”
“That doesn’t seem likely. No one in this sector speaks the language. It’s some sort of buzzing that even our best language programs can’t translate.”
Sitting down at the console, I open a channel. Using the scratch pad, I draw the chits and a rudimentary image of the Pax vessels.
One of the bridge crew sounds off. �
�They’re scanning us, Sir.”
Lehar lurks over my shoulder. “What is that you’re sending?”
“I was once owned by insectoids. You’re right about not understanding them. Their language is some weird noise they make by rubbing the top of their wings together. I was never able to make out a single word. They use these glyphs to conduct trade.”
Looking all kinds of skeptical, Lehar asks, “So you think they’ll take out the Pax ship for three credits?”
“Each chit is worth a thousand credits. They paid ten chits for me back in the day. Of course, I was younger and loads more bright and bubbly back then.”
“I find that hard to believe. You’re more animated than any brooder I’ve ever met even now.”
Shooting him a quick smile, I shrug. “Thanks. Since I’m not a gun for hire, I’ve got no idea how much to charge them. The thing is, they love to negotiate. If my price is too low, they’ll make a counter offer.”
“If that’s true, we’ll be taking them up on their offer, no matter how absurd it is.”
“Roger that. Pull our fighters back. I don’t want to see them targeted by mistake.”
Lehar’s finger taps out a message and I see them retreat. The insectoids are game changer for the Pax as well. They’ve stopped firing at us and are regrouping around Emf'phet’s ship. “Ha, they’re protecting their pompous coward of a king.”
Lehar shoots me a disapproving look. “General, you mean.”
Waving my hand dismissively, I comment, “Who cares what he’s called? They stopped shooting at us.” Grinning like a mad fool, I lean back in my chair. “I did that.”
“Yes, you did. You’re one helpful little brooder to have around.”
Frowning, I shake my head disapprovingly. “Thanks for that.”
Lehar gestures to the communi-channel. “You got a response from your bug friends.”
Jerking forward again in my seat, I open the message. “They were the nicest masters a slave could ever ask for.” It takes me a minute to make sense of their drawing. “They don’t want credits. I can tell because they drew a slash through the chits and drew something else.”
