A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4

by Michael Kotcher

  Tyler nodded. “Yes, my Lord. Once we have Ganges and the General’s ships in with the rest of us, I think we can cover the freighters adequately enough.”

  The pirate lord hissed in anger. “I did not expect to loze all of my corvettesss on thiss raid. It haz proven to be very cosstly. There are thingz that will be done differently when we come back here again.”

  “Understood, my Lord.”

  “My Lord? Commander? I have an incoming transmission from General Typhon. He’s demanding to speak with you, my Lord.” The zheen comms officer managed to sound calm, despite the very dark tone of the message he’d just received.

  “Oh, he doez? Put him through.” His chair display activated, showing the midnight furred lupusan, who looked to be in a rage. “General Typhon, I undersstand you wanted to sspeak with me.”

  “What the hell is this order you just passed to the fleet?” Typhon demanded, flecks of foam forming at the edges of his mouth. “You will withdraw?”

  “Thiss waz only ever to be a raid, General. You knew that from the sstart.” Verrikoth sat and spoke patiently as the lupusan lost his temper even further.

  “That was before!” he spat. “That was before the locals here showed stiffer resolve than we anticipated, even without their battlecruiser. We need to move in and take the gas mine! Land our troops there and strip that mining station in the atmosphere down to the frame!”

  “No, General, we do not,” Verrikoth replied coolly. “I will not sspend more of my forcez on a wassteful endeavor. I have what I came here for and in minutess your sshipss will be filled.”

  “This is not what I came here for! That is but a taste! There is more down there. And the worms here need to pay for resisting us!”

  Verrikoth’s gaze turned frosty, though only another zheen would be able to see it. “I am not ressponssible for your faulty intentionz, General. But my forcez will be leaving thiss place.”

  “Leaving?” Typhon said, as though he couldn’t believe it. “You coward! You would bring us here and then leave with the job undone! You will run away in fear?”

  The pirate lord was silent for a long moment. “Ssee to your own forcez, General. I am done talking of thiss.” And he cut the connection.

  Chapter 5

  Kol Raydor paced his tiny stateroom. The ship had been under acceleration for hours now. Persistence of Vision was up to more than two-thirds the speed of light and was tearing through space to get to the battle in time to help. The faster they went the more that relativity took effect, but the ship’s AI, Wotan, had made the appropriate calculations to their course and was able to keep straight the differences in the passage of time.

  “Time?” he asked to the air.

  “Five minutes since the last time you asked, Captain,” Wotan answered, his image appearing on the monitor. “I know you feel helpless and trapped, Captain, but I assure you, we are going as fast as we dare.”

  “As fast as we dare?” Kol demanded, turning to face the monitor and staring at his ship’s AI for a long moment. Then he broke eye contact with the unblinking AI and resumed his pacing. “This is taking forever.”

  “We must begin deceleration maneuvers soon,” Wotan said.

  “Which will make this take longer!”

  “You know why we must, Captain. We must get down to manageable speeds or once we reach the battlespace…”

  “Yes, yes, we’ll just blow right by and not be able to fire a shot,” Kol snapped. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it. All right. Do what needs to be done, Wotan. Take us down to more manageable speeds. And inform the crew: it’s about to get rough.” Wotan’s voice began booming through the rest of the ship, warning of extreme deceleration, and for the crew to brace themselves and to strap in. As the voice was sounding throughout the ship, Kol spoke to the AI. “How long until we’re in the battlespace?”

  “Fifty-seven minutes, Captain,” Wotan replied. “You might want to strap in. It’s going to be, as you say, rough. If you though the pressure you were feeling during the acceleration was bad? We’re going to be going half again as hard during the deceleration.”

  “What’s our fuel level going to be at once we’re there?” Kol asked, sitting down on his office chair.

  “Below sixty percent on reserves,” the AI replied. “We should have more than enough for an extended fight. So long as we’re not forced to make a hyperspace jump, we should be fine.” The AI’s image flickered. “All hands,” his voice boomed over the PA. “Beginning deceleration maneuvers in four… three… two… one… now.” Instantly it felt as though a small planetoid had settled on top of Kol’s body. Whereas the g-forces had been uncomfortable before, they were almost painful now. Wotan looked at him with almost a pitying expression. “Just try and keep breathing normally, Captain. I’ve adjusted the inertial dampeners as high as they can go. You only have to suffer for a little while longer and then we’ll be there.”

  “You’re… not really… helping, Wotan,” Kol replied with difficulty. “But I thank you for your concern.”

  “Of course, Captain.” The AI drew himself up straighter, dusting a piece of non-existent holographic lint off his holographic sleeve.

  “The cargo ships appear to be topped off,” Magnus reported, appearing on Tamara’s HUD. Tamara and the engineering crew were loading up the next round of missiles to fire off at the pirate ships, but it looked as though they weren’t going to be able to launch in time. Or at least, not as large a salvo as the last one. Only thirty missiles were in the cradles ready for launch and with Magnus’s report coming in, time was nearly up. “They’re decoupling from the tanks and appear to be preparing to move out.”

  “How much of the reserves are left, Magnus?” Tamara asked, directing a hover pallet with four missiles over to the cradle. Two of the techs began using the hoist to maneuver the weapons into the tubes for launching. She checked her watch. They weren’t going to have time to get the rest of all them loaded.

  “We’re down to less than twenty percent of reserves in the tank farm, Tamara,” the AI replied. “Seventeen and a fraction, according to the sensor data from Ms. Moreetz.”

  “Is Ganges still hanging around there?” she asked, only half listening. One of the techs lowered the head of the missile on the hoist into the launch tube, while the other guided it all the way in. A moment later, it was in and ready.

  “Yes,” the boarborn AI replied, returning his massive sword to the sheath on his back.

  “All right!” she bellowed, waving the techs away from the launch tubes. “We’re launching now.”

  “But there’s only about a little more than half the missiles here,” one of the techs pointed out. “Not a full salvo.”

  She nodded. “I know, but we can’t wait. Ganges is going to be moving away from the tank farm and out of range before we can get all the missiles loaded. Everyone get clear. Seal your helmets!” Tamara ordered, sealing her own. She looked around until Magnus nodded from his position on her HUD. “Everyone clear!” Another nod from the porcine AI. “Tiyaana,” Tamara called, opening a channel to the Operations center on the gas mine. “We’re launching another salvo. Open the hangar doors.” An instant later, the massive hangar doors began sliding open again and the missiles and their launchers canted upward, readying for their launch.

  Once the hangar doors were fully open, Tamara checked to make sure their telemetry was linked up with the satellites in orbit. Thankfully Ganges’s captain either hadn’t figured out that was how his ship was being targeted or hadn’t bothered shooting them down. Either way, it allowed her, Tamara, to try and shoot down those ships. Again, Tamara locked onto Ganges, figuring that the light cruiser was the biggest threat out of the ships clustered above the gas mine. “Firing!”

  The missiles’ rocket motors ignited and they surged out into the atmosphere.

  “Go!” Tamara shouted, not caring that she was yelling over an open mic.

  The weapons streaked skyward, fighting the s
wirling and buffeting winds to scramble out into the void. Only seven of the missiles couldn’t make it out of the planet’s atmosphere this time, and only a dozen of them ran out of propellant after getting into space. Ganges’s weapons opened up, saturating the area with blasts, tearing apart the projectiles that had gone ballistic and then hunting down the incoming salvo.

  “Come on, come on,” Tamara prayed. Some of them have to get through. We won’t get another shot.

  Hestian managed to control his temper as another salvo of missiles came out of the atmosphere of the planet, homing in on Ganges. He glanced over at his tactical officer and saw the formerly cowed lupusan fighting for his life, for the ship. He was targeting, firing and retargeting his weapons. He was barking into his mic, sending orders to the various gun crews who were firing in local control. Hestian actually felt a bit of pride for his tactical officer as well as the gunnery crews. Yes, he’d had to discipline the wolf, but it seemed that message was exactly what the tactical officer needed. More and more of the incoming missiles were slagged and this time further out from the light cruiser. The salvo didn’t seem as heavy as the last one, Hestian mused, checking his displays. Then he nodded. No, it wasn’t. Only thirty-one birds this time, little more than half of the volley from the last one. Gorgen could deal with this.

  “Helm,” he ordered. “Increase speed to one-fifty. Keep us with the cargo ships, but I want to try and increase the range for the missiles to try and reach us.” Perhaps a few more might run out of propellant. It’ll make Gorgen’s job a little bit harder, but I want to see what he can do. And he does seem to have a handle on things.

  The other lupusan was laser focused on his console, only his fingers and his eyeballs and his mouth moving. The rest of his body could have carved from stone for all of the excess moving he was doing. Every erg was being poured into directing the ship’s weapons into taking down that volley of incoming missiles. Three more, then four, then two more there. It seemed Gorgen was determined this time that he was going to get them all.

  “Four left,” the words emanated from Gorgen’s mouth in a whisper, as though he hadn’t meant to speak them at all. The guns began spraying fire all over nearby space, as the missiles attempted to jink in a last-ditch effort to evade.

  Two. Three. Hestian’s hand hurt and he realized it was because he had the metal arm of his chair in a death grip, he was squeezing so hard. When he looked back, it was too late. The last missile slipped around the last of the incoming fire and impacted the aft shields. Thankfully, Hestian had given the order to keep the shields strong in that area. It only made sense, after all. If Ganges lost her propulsion, she’d be stuck in this system to be hunted down and carved up. Either by the fighters or the rest of the local defense ships even if they had to come in from across the star system.

  The ship shook slightly with the hit, but it wasn’t as severe a hit as the previous salvos, both from the gas mine and from the various defensive platforms. As missile strikes went, this one was relatively tame. That and Gorgen was on his game.

  “All missiles destroyed, Commander,” Gorgen reported a second later. He seemed very pleased with himself.

  “Very well,” he replied. “Helm, bring us into escort formation with the cargo ships. Make sure they keep away from the planet; I don’t want another salvo to have an open shot at those ships. Tactical, keep your eyes open. I don’t think they can manage another volley like that, but we were surprised once before.”

  “Aye, Commander,” both the ship’s pilot and tactical officer chorused.

  As the small cluster of ships began to accelerate, Hestian was overcome with a sudden impulse. “Guns, target the tank farm,” he ordered.

  Gorgen looked back, as though he was about to say something, but then turned back to his console, ears flat against his head. A few keystrokes later, he spoke. “Weapons targeted, Commander.”

  “Once we reach minimum safe distance, and after the cargo ships are clear, take out that platform. Something for them to remember us by once we’re gone from this system.” Lord Verrikoth should not be too displeased by this. We’re not destroying their production capabilities, after all, only the nearly empty containment facilities. He was sure that the pirate lord would not have issue with that. We’re only teaching them another lesson for shooting at one of his cruisers.

  “Yes, Commander. At current speed, that’ll be two minutes, eleven seconds.”

  “Understood.”

  Tamara leaned back against the bulkhead of the hangar bay, watching dully as the great doors boomed closed. The roaring of the winds instantly died down to the manageable mumble and the blowers powered up, clearing out the atmo in the hangar for breathable air. When the air was clear again, she unsealed her helmet and pulled it off. Tossing the helmet on a nearby hover pallet and then scrubbed her face with her gloved hands. That salvo had been wasted, effectively, barely scratching the shields of the light cruiser, and that took nearly the whole load to do it. No significant damage. She sighed heavily. At least it gave them something to think about on their way out.

  But all the cargo ships and the cruiser were moving away from the planet now. The other light cruiser had piled on the acceleration heading back to where the big transport was drifting. The pirate’s heavy cruiser was holding off as well. Is it possible that this nightmare might be over? Then she shook her head. No. We’re just done with the first wave. The transport’s taken some serious damage, but they’re still functional. Once they get back up again, I’m sure they’re coming for us. Ekaterina and Marat clearly failed. She despaired. There had been a fair few close calls over the last few years, with these pirates and she’d developed a healthy respect for Verrikoth and his forces. He’d captured the Grania Estelle, he’d smashed the Republic outpost and now he was here, with the biggest fleet seen in the Argos Cluster in decades. Tamara had been holding onto a slim hope that by hitting the transport hard, the pirates might just up and leave, but the cruisers weren’t doing much to further that thought.

  “Ms. Samair, this is Tiyaana up in Ops.” Her communications activated, with the operations chief’s voice coming in her ear.

  She nodded. “Go ahead, Ms. Moreetz.”

  “Sensors are detecting explosions on the big assault transport,” the other woman reported.

  “Explosions? They’re taking fire?” Hope blossomed again, albeit weakly.

  “No, ma’am,” Tiyaana replied. “The explosions are internal and not terribly powerful. In fact, Sat Four is only just in position on the curve of the planet to pick it up. We didn’t even spot it, Magnus did.”

  “They did it,” Tamara whispered. “They actually did it.”

  “Your strike team?” The operations officer sounded surprised.

  “Unless the fighter’s missile strike did more damage than estimated and they had secondary explosions. Which is extremely unlikely.” She grimaced. “No, that would have to be the strike team.”

  “The second light cruiser just fired on and destroyed a shuttle leaving the transport.”

  Tamara’s blood, already feeling quite chilly, went completely frigid. “Any life readings on that shuttle?”

  “No, ma’am. It was too far out.”

  “Understood,” she replied, keeping her voice calm. The team was on that shuttle. She tried to take solace in the fact that they seemed to have succeeded. It didn’t much help, but she needed to focus. “Keep me informed.” And she closed the channel.

  “Ma’am?” a voice came from behind her. Tamara turned to see Viktoriya standing just a few meters away.

  She felt her heart harden, if it didn’t she might have broken down into tears. There wasn’t time for that now, not with a ship full of soldiers that might still launch shuttles at any moment. “I have no proof, Serzhant Eristov. But I think…”

  “You think the strike team was on that shuttle.” It was not a question. Viktoriya’s expression didn’t change, her posture remained just as it had. Even using her optic sensors in her imp
lants, Tamara couldn’t detect any change in her chief bodyguard. It was as if she was made of iron.

  “As I said, I have no proof.”

  “Don’t try and spare my feelings, ma’am. They were soldiers, they knew what they were getting into.” The wolf narrowed her eyes for a moment. “But we’ll miss them. And we’ll miss their strong arms if the soldiers do end up trying to board.”

  “I know,” Tamara said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ve got the replicators churning out weapons and ammo as fast as they can now.”

  “Not missiles?”

  She shrugged. “There’s little point. We still have about forty of the weapons left, so we can use them on the incoming shuttles, maybe get a few of them. We couldn’t make enough missiles to make any serious difference and I want the security teams to be well-stocked on anything and everything they need to hold off any boarding force.”

  “I’m sure Chief Nymeria will approve of that, ma’am,” Viktoriya said with a nod.

  A small chuckle escaped her lips. “I’m sure she would.” Then she frowned. “I’m just worried there won’t be much of a station left to defend, what with all the weaponry we’ll have. And what they’ll have.”

  “What will they have, ma’am?” Viktoriya asked. “You’ve mentioned before some expertise with Federation equipment and ships.”

  “I know about Federation equipment and ships from two and a half centuries ago,” Tamara agreed, nodding. “I was a Republic Navy officer. An engineer.”

  “Well, if you recognize that ship,” Viktoriya said, pointing toward the hangar door, “then there should be more than enough pieces of intel that you can provide.”

  Tamara sighed, rubbing her forehead. “All right. But you and Magnus will need to question me while we’re over in the replicator compartments. I can’t stop production while we’re working this out.”