Captains Malicious (The Liberation Series Book 1)

by T. R. Harris

  “I would suggest a show of force,” said Fanis Novin. “Demonstrate to the sub-beings that Vixx’r authority is the only authority in the province.”

  “And complain to Earth.” Sovic Kur added. “The Supreme Mahala is responding in kind, yet you are the First-Master of the region. You must show the Humans that we are seriously concerned.”

  Sovic Kur was one of Gaolic’s closest allies within the Council, and it was he who had helped place him in his current leadership position over the Confederation’s most-important province. It was all a way of grooming Gaolic for a seat on the Council once his term as First-Master was through, and of securing yet another vote for Sovic’s eventual play for the position of Supreme Mahala once Havic relinquished control—if not before.

  “I will do what I can,” said Gaolic, relieved to see that the others had decided to help, rather than simply attacking him for incompetence and lack of foresight. “Yet I believe many fail to comprehend that I rule over a province of a billion members of the race we’re currently battling. I do recognize them as sub-beings, yet they are formidable sub-beings, otherwise the conflict would not have lasted this long. I am inadequately supported here, with barely over a hundred thousand Vixx’r spread throughout a region as large Winslon and Cyapor provinces combined. As it has turned out, not having to fight for this territory has proven a detriment to the military resources I need here.”

  “You’re saying you would have preferred to take the Reaches by force?” Fanis Novin couldn’t believe what he was hearing, which was why Gaolic considered him one of the dumbest and less-insightful members of the Council.

  “All I mean by that is that I would now have ample military bases and personnel at my disposal to easily squelch this rebellion. Instead, the assets I need have moved on to the Midlands, leaving me with barely enough to maintain a normal peace, let alone contending with a charismatic pirate with more intimate knowledge of the region and who’s numbers grow stronger each day.”

  “Are you saying you cannot fulfill the Mahala’s directive?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Gaolic shot back quickly. “All I’m saying is that if I am not careful, then it may become impossible to control the mass population of Humans in the province.”

  “I see your dilemma, First-Master,” said Sovic Kur. “Yet do what you can, keeping in mind that if our current mission succeeds then there will be no need to suppress the Humans any longer.”

  “That would come as a welcome relief, Suun-Master Kur, since I do not know how much longer the Humans are going to allow themselves to be suppressed.

  15

  LARRY Thomson was about to die, and if something wasn’t done soon, he was liable to voluntarily hasten the moment.

  He looked to his left and saw that his co-pilot, Darryl Wagner, was in a similar state. They exchanged a look, just a moment before Darryl lost it and vomited on the control panel. That was all it took for Larry to lose it, too, and soon the entire front console of the KST ship was covered in dripping bile.

  The Vixx’r commander backed away from the two pilots, looking disgusted. “I suppose you will blame me for your condition?”

  “We tried to warn you but you didn’t believe us,” Larry managed to eke out between heaves.

  “You Humans are a weak species. I’m surprised you have achieved as much as you have.”

  “Please, just go,” Darryl pleaded. “We need some time to air out the pilothouse.”

  “And yet the pirate ship is still closing.”

  “You can monitor it from auxiliary control in the engine room.”

  “Very well, however, we will be at the weapons ready to strike once the vessel is in range.”

  “Whatever—just go!”

  Reluctantly, the huge First-X’er and his subordinate exited the pilothouse and Thomson pressed a button that closed the door almost before they were both through. He then took a couple of containers of water from the side refrigerator and passed one to Darryl. “They really need to invent a more effective counter for that smell,” he said between swallows. “Nose strips just aren’t cutting it anymore.”

  “Maybe they never did,” Darryl volunteered. “We’ve just never had to work with them so close before, and for such long term.”

  “Yeah, the confined space of starships doesn’t help. It’s not like we can open a window or something.”

  Darryl looked over his shoulder at the closed pilothouse door. They were alone. “You know, this is working out to our advantage. Lock the door and let’s get this over with.”

  Larry watched as the huge four-masted contact drew ever closer to the KST Heavy Hauler. She was still a good ten minutes out of range, and the two Human pilots knew the Vixx’r were expecting this encounter. The aliens had adapted the H2 to carry even more firepower than she normally did, and with a battery of armor-piercing plasma shells designed specifically to penetrate the hull of the Malicious.

  Even though this particular Vixx’r cargo run was not designed to seek out and destroy the massive pirate vessel, they had set sail prepared to defend themselves should they encounter Robert Kincaid’s flagship. Or at least the Vixx’r were prepared.

  Larry and Darryl had other ideas entirely.

  They had made six runs with the Vixx’r over the past three months, four with the mostly-Human crews, and then two with the aliens in the majority, including this one. During each of those trips they had hoped and prayed they’d come across one of Kincaid’s raiders, but as luck would have it, they made each run without mishap. While a dozen or more of their colleagues had managed to come in contact with their old friend Robert Kincaid—and subsequently join his pirate fleet—Larry and Darryl were gaining the reputation among the aliens as a crew who knew how to avoid the pirates. As a consequence, they had been specifically requested to make this run because of their stellar track record.

  In reality, it had been blind luck—or misfortune—depending on viewpoint.

  This latest run was to a location other than the normal shipping ports. Both pilots were intimate with this area of the Reaches, and so they knew no Human facility lay at the end of their journey. This had to be a secret Vixx’r base, and judging by the number of Sludger troops aboard—plus the special armament given the ship—the aliens seemed quite determined that this cargo reach its destination intact.

  And now, at last, Kincaid’s ship had found them; however, neither of the Humans was going to allow the aliens to harm the Malicious—not if they could prevent it.

  Darryl wiped a clump of vomit from his forward monitor so he could better see the images of the other areas of the ship as he quickly panned through them. Seventeen of the twenty-eight Vixx’r were in the aft cargo bay, heavily armed and looking anxious. They knew the pirate ship was coming, and they were tasked with guarding the shipment with their lives. They would do it, without question, since their religion gave them a promise of a glorious reward in the afterlife for dying in defense of their race.

  The other aliens were in the engine room, which also served as weapons control and auxiliary steering. The First-X’er was there, engrossed in the proximity screen and the signature of the approaching warship.

  “We’re only going to get one crack at this,” Darryl said. “And if any of the Sludgers get to a suit, we’re screwed.”

  Larry sighed. “We knew the risk when we planned this. I’m just sorry it took so long. It would have been a piece of cake if we’d run into Robert when we had the Human crew.”

  “I’m ready on number two.”

  “I have one. On my mark: Three…two…one…mark!”

  Simultaneously, both pilots pressed buttons on their control consoles that sent commands to the ship’s atmosphere venting system, one for the cargo hold, and other for the engine room. For good measure, they would also dump the oxygen from the rest of the ship, everywhere except the pilothouse.

  Once activated, alarms began to sound throughout the ship, including the bridge, yet both pilots were too engrossed in t
heir monitors for either of them to turn them off. What they saw were the gaspings of over two dozen aliens, whose bulging eyes also spoke of the reduced air pressure inside the craft. On several of the creatures torso scales began popping off, leaving trails of blood and yellow mucus after them. Some of the stronger Vixx’r crawled towards the emergency oxygen stations, of which the ship had six. Larry and Darryl held their own breaths as two of the Vixxie nearly made it before finally collapsing face first into the hard metal deck.

  The Humans watched for a full five minutes before they could relax, secure in the knowledge that all the aliens were dead. From images on their screens, they tried to count the bodies, just to make sure all the Vixx’r were accounted for. They were still coming up a few short, yet those could have fallen in places the camera couldn’t see or were buried in the heap of dead aliens in the cargo hold.

  Larry Thomson then activated a ship-to-ship comm link. “Attention Malicious, attention Malicious, this is Captain Larry Thomson and Commander Darryl Wagner of KST, requesting comm link, over.”

  The response was almost instantaneous. “This is the Malicious, state your intentions.”

  “Our intention is to join you, and you sure have taken your sweet time finding us.”

  “Larry, is that you?” asked a familiar voice.

  “Sure is, Robert. I’m really glad to hear your voice.”

  “Same here, but I need to know your condition. You’re a Heavy Hauler, and according to our sensors, you have some ominous-looking additions to your superstructure.”

  “That we do. The Sludgers went out of their way to make sure this particular ship would survive an attack by your pirates.”

  “So what changed?”

  “I guess they underestimated our resolve, Mr. Kincaid,” said Darryl Wagner. He knew Robert, yet he wasn’t one of his old running buddies, as was Larry Thomson. “Right now we have a ship full of dead aliens all suckin’ nuthin’.”

  “Oh, and Robert, this cargo is something special,” Larry Thomson added. “They really wanted to see it get to its destination.”

  “Can you certify your threat level to this ship?” Robert asked. “Gotta make sure before I bring you aboard.”

  “Pretty sure the cargo isn’t a weapon, and as a precaution in case any of the Vixx’r survived we’ll keep the ship purged until we’re safely in your hold. Besides, the place really needs a good airing out.”

  “Understood and approach with caution. H2’s are about the largest ships we can fit in our bay. I’ll empty out some of our flitters and shuttles to make room.”

  “Sure you don’t want us just to accompany you?”

  “Sorry, but we have to thoroughly scan your ship for tracers before we return to base, the location of which is a closely-guarded secret.”

  “It’s probably on NSF-1924,” said Larry Thomson. “Always thought that deep hole in the ground would make a perfect hiding place for a pirate base. You remember the place, don’t you, Robert? You’re the one who found it.”

  “I vaguely remember, but that was a long time ago. Proceed to aft landing bay, Kincaid out.”

  And then just before the mic went dead, Larry Thomson swore he heard Robert Kincaid say, “Damn!”

  *****

  “THIS is god-awful!” Robert Kincaid exclaimed. “I thought they smelled bad when they were alive, but this is ridiculous.”

  Kincaid and a group of his officers stepped over and through the mass of dead aliens strewn about the deck of the KST ship’s cargo hold. Their booted feet trailed a gooey combination of mucus and blood with each step—along with the crunch of discarded torso scales—and several crew members had already lost their lunches from the caustic smell and horrific scene.

  “That’s it over there,” said Larry Thomson. “Those crates.”

  “Nothing else?” Robert asked.

  “That’s all. They brought those crates out of a warehouse on Sunderland and haven’t left them unguarded for a moment. Of course, that was up until the time they died.”

  Robert had seen cadavers before, and even a few as a result of pressure loss within a spaceship or spacesuit, so he knew more or less what to expect. This was, however, so much worse that even his worst nightmares.

  Vixx’r bodies definitely were not made for zero atmosphere and air pressure. Each looked as though they’d exploded from the inside out, where the weak skin below the protective torso scales proved to be no match for the inner pressure of the air molecules within their bodies. Each Vixx’r’s eyes had popped out, and were mixed in with the mucus, blood and scales covering the deck.

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to clean up this mess,” said Darryl Wagner.

  “Tough luck, Junior,” replied Larry Thomson. “You’re low man on the totem pole. Besides, if I recall, this whole thing was your idea.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll wait until we’re back in space so I can suit up and just wash all this right out the bay doors.”

  Robert had reached the stacked pile of crates. They were each about ten feet long by four feet tall and ten deep. They had security locks on the top and one of Robert’s crew stepped up with a laser cutter and made short work of the mechanism.

  Kincaid lifted the top and it opened easily on a spring hinge. Inside was a neat array of containers, each with its own security lock. Robert looked to Larry Thomson and they both raised their eyebrows.

  “Locked containers inside a larger locked container,” Kincaid remarked. He looked to another crew member who held a datapad.

  “No radiation readings or explosives detected, sir.”

  “Open it up,” he then said to a crewman carrying the laser torch.

  Inside the two-foot-square box was a gray geometric object wrapped in white packing material. Javon Steele reached in and removed it. It was a multi-sided decahedron, with a variety of integrated circuits embedded in the surface. There were slots cut on all the facets, while the object itself had small blades that looked like they would fit into the slots on its brothers and sisters.

  “This is just like those things Drake found in the Crinous convoy ship,” Steele said.

  “You mean the ones that vaporized Steve Nash?” Robert asked.

  Steele nodded and placed the object back in its container and shut the lid.

  Robert did a quick calculation in his head. “Each crate looks like it can hold fifty of these boxes, and let’s see, we have around two hundred crates. So that’s a thousand of these things. How many did Bondel say it took to make up that thing that fried Steve?”

  “He thought maybe ten, but I don’t think he was sure,” Steele said.

  “So the objects in this shipment could make a device one hundred times as large.”

  “No wonder they keep them in locked boxes within locked crates.”

  “And so are we,” Robert said. “But first of all, let’s get them off-loaded. I want the H2 off this ship as soon as possible. Already this stink is filling the launch bay. Once we get back to base we’ll let Joanne and her group take a look at them. Drake only brought back a handful of these things. This shipment should help her figure out how they work and what their ultimate purpose is.”

  “I’d say their purpose is to make one badass spark, if what happened to Steve is any indication. And you say if these things formed up, it would be one hundred times more powerful.”

  “That factor could be geometric, too, sir,” said the crewman with the monitoring equipment. His name was Ryan Grossman, and he was one of the engineer types aboard the Malicious.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that often electrical devices or other things that build up charges increase in power geometrically, not linearly. What that means is that something that is one hundred times as large as something else could be more powerful by a multiple factor, such a four, ten or even a thousand.”

  “Damn!” said Javon Steele.

  “Ryan, when we get back to base, I want you to join Joanne’s team.”


  “Sir, I’d love to, sir.” The young man’s enthusiasm for his new assignment was hard to contain.

  “We need to know if what you say is true, and also how these things work. We know they do, thanks to Steve Nash. And obviously the Vixx’r have plans for them. We need to know what those plans are based on their function.”

  “They could be a new kind of energy generator, so they can better power their settlements,” offered Larry Thomson.

  “That’s possible, Larry, but the way they were disguised on the convoy ship leads me to believe they have a more sinister purpose. That would also fit in better with how those slimy bastards think.”

  Robert shook his head and wiped his eyes. They were really tearing up now and he could barely see. “But first things first; let’s move these crates and then get the H2 out of here. I’ve had about as much of this as I can stand.”

  16

  JOANNE Kawasaki was a nuclear physicist, one of only twenty in all the Reaches. She had been trained on Earth at a place called the Cal-Tech Apex Institute and had worked for Kincaid Shipping in their energy and fuel division. Prior to that, she had maintained the fusion reactors at a number of government energy plants on Ione before being lured away for more money in the private sector.

  She was unmarried, forty-eight and frumpy, yet a first-class mind when it came to energy generation.

  Never one to have bought into the whole idea of alien occupation of her homeland, Joanne had sought out various contacts Robert maintained within KST, and was soon spirited away from Ione and to his pirate stronghold. There she helped tune the Norvell neutron gravity drives of his fleet while also helping with other scientific mysteries, such as what these blasted geometric objects were for.