Rufo quickly opened a channel to armored shuttle.
“Shaker, what are you doing down here?” he asked turning away from the landing as the shuttle kicked up pebbles and rocks sending them flying all about as it landed. The last thing anyone in a space suit wanted was to have their faceplates cracked.
“We are here on special duty, Rufo,” Mike’s voice said from the pilot’s chair.
“What’s up?” he inquired wondering what was so important that the captain of their ship had to come down to this rock of a planet.
“You’ll see,” he said and left it at that.
A few minutes later the back of the M12 Knox class armored shuttle opened. A moment after that, crewmen came down the ramp carrying long crates. There were four men to each crate, made up of two marines and two navy crewmen. Behind them another set came out and then another. It took the engineer a second but then he realized that this was a burial detail.
They moved the three bodies over to the rock mound cemetery where the Pinckney’s crew and the Iron Brigades marines were all buried. Eight of the men went back and retrieved two more crates. Lt. Collin, Gunny Masters and Lt. Stanton joined them as they brought over the last two bodies. These were the five crewmen of the Randori that had died in the Battle of Arcadia Prime.
Mike felt that this was a more fitting place to bury them than to be just jettisoned out into space or into a star. Someday maybe when the war was over their families might be able to retrieve their remains for a more fitting burial. This also allowed him to give his men who had been fighting a more proper use of their energy and hopefully instill a lesson or two in the process.
It took another hour to clear spaces in the rocky ground. They then removed the bodies from their collapsible caskets and placed them in the depressions and slowly covered them with rocks. The planet’s thin atmosphere with no life forms would insure that their remains would stay untouched. The men then returned to the shuttle and retrieved rifles to form an honor guard.
At one time they didn’t have a huge selection of side arms and rifles. When they first stole the Star Wolf they had raided Harpers Academy’s armory and had stolen one hundred old Colt M-21 assault rifles that had been retrofitted to accept caseless ammunitions. There was also ten Browning hyper-shot assault rifles designed in a bull-pup configuration and fifty 8mm Colt Star-Burst gyro automatic pistols.
Now their forces had M-35 Colt gauss assault rifles and Smith and Wesson Model 2100 auto-needlier gauss pistols. A needle or gauss weapon was an electromagnetically powered weapon capable of firing poly-steel needles through most types of personal body armor.
Mike had handpicked the arms for his ship’s armory and when he did he included some of the old M-21 caseless assault rifles. Maybe it was nostalgia or maybe he just wanted an assortment of arms. Now he found that these old weapons were perfectly suited for the honor guard’s use.
Forming up by the grave Lt. Stanton called the men to attention. Nearby the PA system of the armored shuttle would play taps after Lt. Collins had read the service for the burial of the dead.
As a ship captain, it was his duty to do this and to honor those under his command and who had fought for the freedom of the Confederation, the Emperor and their people. It still was no easy task and he took sometime considering how he would proceed and what service he would use to honor them and to help set them at peace. In the end he chose the traditional “Burial of the Dead at Sea” service which he modified a little to suit their current circumstance and burial site.
“Almighty God we commend unto you, the souls of our departed brothers in arms, as we commit their bodies to this ground; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; at whose coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth shall give up her dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed, and made like unto his glorious body; according to the mighty working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.”
“In the name of our Lord, Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust.”
“Amen!”
When Mike was done, the honor guard on command presented arms and fired three volleys into the air. He then saluted the dead and reached down and grabbed some loose rocks. As he walked by the five mounds he dropped the rocks onto their graves. Others followed suit as the taps finished and the honor guard returned to attention. They were then marched off the field and back to the rear of the shuttle.
“Lt. Collins, I’d like to keep my men down on the planet’s surface to prepare our tanks for transport,” Lt. Stanton requested coming out of the back of the shuttle as his men stored their weapons.
“Sure and I’ll send down the rest of the lift team,” Mike replied and then added “and Frank, remember to load the best tanks first. We don’t know how many we will be able to take.”
Stanton nodded and went to round up his men and get started.
As the marine left, his engineer approached.
“Good job, Captain,” Rufo commented in support of his friend.
Mike nodded though his face looking pained as this was not the easiest thing he had ever done.
“Thanks, now let’s get these tanks loaded and the engines fixed so we can get the hell out of here,” he said sounding a little bitter as he returned to the shuttle’s pilot seat and head back to the ship.
Cappillo let out a sigh, looked once more to the rocky cemetery of their dead as he closed the rear hatch and they prepared for take off.
“Rest in peace my brothers and sisters, rest in peace,” he said before he lost sight of the fallen and the hatch sealed shut.
Chapter Six
The loading of the M45 grav-tanks took only thirty-one hours to complete. Unfortunately, and much to Lt. Stanton’s disappointment they could only fit eleven of his tanks into the space that was available onboard the Randori. It was just the way it had to be. Lt. Cappillo got the alpha bender drive repaired and fully operational an hour before the last tank was stored away. He took it as a matter of pride to beat the Colonial Marines done.
Lt. Collins found himself sitting in his captain’s command chair as he watched and waited while all of his sections reported in. The hull was repaired, his damaged fighters had been restored and his engines were once more functional. The replacement turrets had been installed and the damaged gun elevators were repaired. His hydrogen fuel tanks for his maneuver drives were patched and full. Finally, everyone was signaling that they were ready.
“It’s time,” he declared, “Mr. Thornton take us out of orbit and set a course for that pirate freighter.”
“Aye sir,” the helmsmen replied, happy for some action and to be rid of this barren world.
“Captain, the freighter is still in orbit around the Ice Giant,” the maser station reported.
“Sensors, see if you can get an identification on that freighter,” Mike ordered and then looked to Jim Byrd. “Where is the Anarchy?”
“I’m reading the DE as hiding behind the Ice Giant’s smallest moon. The moon has a strong magnetic field and I guess they think it will hide them,” the maser operator revealed.
“Sir, the Confederation database says it is the SS Henderson, a Nebraska Class agro hauler out of Planter Four,” Chac-Ras reported as some of the bridge crew grumbled.
The merchant ship and her crew were known to some of the Randori’s men as they had served on the Wolf’s Den’s trading ships and had dealings with Planter Four and her trade ships.
“Sir, the Henderson is sending out a distress call and is requesting help,” Mister Jansen announced.
“Of course they are,” Thornton said with a slight smile.
“Tell them we are the SS Dori out of Austro Prime heading to Arcadia and request the nature of their emergency,” Mike instructed adding, “Oh and tell them we are coming at flank speed.”
“Aye sir,” came the communications station’s response.
“Ahead three fourths maneuver,” Lt. Collins orde
red, holding back his ship’s true speed from the space pirates.
“Captain, the Henderson is reporting a problem with her impulse drives and that she is just managing to keep from being pulled into the ice giant’s gravity,” Jensen said,
“They aren’t offering a visual signal?” Mike asked.
The big Nordic blond shook his head, “No, her captain says that they are having problems with their comm.’s viewer.”
The Randori’s bridge crew chuckled.
“Yeah, they didn’t want us to see that they are a bunch of fucking pirates,” Chief Baker said from the fire control system’s station.
Again the Q-ship’s crew had a laugh at their enemy’s expense.
“That’s just fine,” Mike commented and then asked, “What armaments does she have?”
“It appears that she has four turret mounts - one on her top deck, one on her keel and one each on her starboard and port sides,” Chac-Ras reported from sensor’s.
Mike thought that the ship must have had some turrets added as an old freighter like that usually had maybe one turret or none at all. Ships like this were used for short hauls to nearby systems and usually weren’t anywhere they’d have a need for them to defend themselves.
“Type?”
Ensign Steven at the navigation and computer station answered this time.
“The one on the top deck is a twin fusion gun – frigate size, on the sides are point defense laser turrets and the one on her bottom is a twin fusion also frigate size.”
“So armed, but nothing to worry about,” Thornton commented as they closed the distance to the agro hauler.
“Armor?”
“Only around the turrets and the bridge,” the Blue sensor operator quickly replied.
“Any movement from the DE?” Mike asked bringing up the tactical holo map from his command chair’s control panel.
The holo map came up and he could see the enemy ships highlighted in red as his ship was in blue.
“No sir, she is hiding behind that small moon like a cat waiting for a mouse,” Specialist Byrd stated smiling as he looked down at his scope.
“I wonder how the cat will feel when he finds out that we’re not a mouse but a wolf pup,” Collins said with a grin.
Again his bridge crew cracked a smile as they did their jobs while anxious for their next encounter.
“Time to the Henderson?”
“Twenty minutes until they’re in range of our particle turrets,” the maser station reported.
The Randori had several light cruiser sized particle turrets that gave them a significant range advantage. They could just sit back and pummel the freighter into submission. For the Q-ship’s captain, the freighter wasn’t his real target. He could out run and out gun the Henderson and it wouldn’t even be much of a battle. His true target was the Anarchy and getting a pirate who had been a menace for the people of the Confederation. For that purpose, they needed to lure the destroyer escort in closer so that it couldn’t make a run for it and escape to a gravity-well. Unlike their last encounter, this system had no gaseous worlds to run into to hide just rocky planets, barren moons and asteroids.
“Status of the Anarchy?” Mike asked watching the screen to see if the pirate ship had move.
“We are reading her engines start up,” Chac-Ras called out.
“There she goes,” Specialist Byrd announced and continued, “they are on a pursuit course to come up behind us after they crest the moon’s circumference.
Mike leaned back in his chair, “That would put us between the Henderson and the destroyer escort.”
“Orders?” Thornton asked from the helm station.
“Stay on course, let’s bring them in and give them a little surprise, Mike said looking up to the tactical holo map floating above. His blue eyes squinting and his lips pursed in a tight grimace as he considered the trap he was laying.
The crew of the Anarchy hurried to carry out their captain’s orders.
“Once we clear the moon zenith, I want full speed and bring us up behind that freighter as fast as we can,” Peter Alexander ordered shifting in his captain’s chair. The original seat was molded to fit a Karduan female’s bottom, and though it had more computer functions he had it replaced with a chair he had taken from a captured human merchant ship.
“Clearing now and accelerating to full speed,” his pilot informed.
“Time to contact?” he asked impatiently from his seat after a long pause with no answer he repeated the question. “How fucking long to contact?”
“Ah … twenty minutes,” said his man at the navigation station.
His men were rejects from the military or from the civilian shipping lines and were far from the most competent he ever served with. Many of them still had trouble with the Karduan controls even though he had owned the ship for well over a year.
Since those old geezers and academy kids stole that attack cruiser he had had nothing but bad luck. When the Star Wolf had escaped Austro Prime they had mauled his destroyer escort and his express freighter. Both the Anarchy and the Chaos took extensive damage as well as over a month to repair at Austro’s repair dock.
After their repairs they had no breaks in their efforts to hunt for merchant ships and bushwhack them. Their fortunes finally changed when they had found a damaged Confederation frigate called the ISS Varuna. They lured it in with promises of help and then disabled it. Just as they were moving in to finish her off and board her, a huge Confederation repair ship arrived. It was just like Christmas, a big fat repair ship with minimal weapons.
Again they enticed this massive ship to them but to their surprise the repair ship opened fired on their armed freighter. The Chaos took a full missile barrage without returning a single shot. Leaving the Varuna to flounder Alexander immediately took the Anarchy to teach that glorified tow truck a good lesson. To his shock a half dozen fighters and two upgraded frigates emerged from the recovery ship’s bowels and open fired on him. It was then a race to get to a nearby gaseous world that they had been using to hide in. Days later, when he finally left the upper atmosphere of the gas planet he found that everyone was gone along with his armed merchant - the Chaos.
That was months ago and his luck had only recently improved. Resorting to hunting closer to human worlds, he picked up a slow and old freighter close to Planter Four. It wasn’t a great prize but it was something. He took the freighter to the Sargasso System close to the old Karduan border. There he tried to sell it to the Blue’s Station Mistress but she laughed at him telling him the old freighter wasn’t worth the space it took up. Though she did buy the human crew from him to use as slaves but the ship was so pathetic that she didn’t want to touch it even for hull plating or scrap. Her forward repair station had so many enemy ships to salvage or repair that an old freighter was a waste of her time and resources.
Instead of a normal payment for the human crew, he talked her into giving him some extra turrets. They had a long term trading relationship that had been mutually profitable for both of them. Now the slow old Henderson at least had a little bite. Hopefully with the old rust bucket’s help they will be able to grab a modern and very fast express freighter. Once that was accomplished he would disregard the old produce hauler.
“Give me a scan of the express freighter,” he said again shifting anxiously.
“She is reading as a Mercury class express freighter just like the Chaos was,” his sensor operator reported with a smile.
“Weapons?”
“I’m detecting only one frigate sized twin fusion turret mounted on her main deck,” the pirate crewmen said to the smiles of his brother pirates.
“Hell, even the guys on the Henderson could take her,” another pirate said to the laughter of the bridge crew.
“Signal the Henderson to take her,” Alexander said thinking that was a good idea.
They all knew it would be an easy kill as long as they were able to close the distance and cut her off from escaping.
This score would break his streak of bad luck and give him a ship he could upgrade. Once the ship was improved they could hunt bigger game and wouldn’t be stuck moving at the speed of an old agro hauler.
“Open the comm. channel so we can hear what’s going on,” Peter Alexander ordered while watching the main viewer.
“Henderson, we are reading a Karduan Destroyer Escort closing in on our positions,” the Dori signaled.
The old agro hauler gave no answer.
“Henderson please respond,” the express freighter called.
“Roger Dori, with our impulse engines down our ship is stuck. Move to shuttle distance and we will send our crew over to you so we can all escape,” the old freighter instructed.
“Wilco, Henderson,” the express freighter replied.
Alexander watched as the Dori closed on the Henderson walking right into his trap. He had them and it felt good.
“Remind the Henderson not to target her engines. I want that express freighter intact. Tell them to just knock out her lone gun turret.”
Turning back to the viewer he could see that there was firing going on and he was pleased that his crew on the Henderson had acted so quickly.
“Captain, the Henderson is reporting that they’ve come under fire from the express freighter.”
“What?” Alex said leaping to his feet.”
“They are reporting that both of their fusion turrets are no longer working,” his communication’s crewman reported.
“Time until we are in range?” he yelled drawing his 8mm pistol to emphasis his point for speed.
Before his sensors operator could report the Karduan ship was rocked from an impact.
“What the hell was that?” someone cried.
Another blow hit the destroyer escort and they shook from the impact.
“Particle hit from a turret based weapon,” sensors reported.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” Peter Alexander demanded moving over to his sensors station.
Wolf's Run: The Chase of War (Star Wolf Sqaudron Book 2) Page 18
