Hestian nodded, typing something on his datapad. “You have some new orders for me, Lord Verrikoth?”
“Yess, Commander, I do.” Verrikoth gathered his thoughts for a few seconds before continuing, pushing the frustration aside. It had been a great hope of his that he would be able to harness the alien technology, but deep in his soul he knew it had been an extreme long shot. He turned his attention back to the lupusan. Hestian had proven his worth by first bringing the Red Sphinx and her worlds into his protectorate, and then proved himself a fighter back in Seylonique. Of all of his warship captains, he was the one to secure all the fuel from the locals’ tank farm, an impressive feat considering all of the missiles flying around, along with the fire coming from the other defenses.
“I am giving you command of the attack flotilla. V’ka’sith will report to you, but I will retain Nemessiss and Kopessh. You will add Ganges and two of the new corvettess, but the resst will remain here with Karimnagar to defend the sshipyard. Two light cruiserz and five corvettess iz an adequate force for what I have in mind for you.”
“There is another vessel as well, my Lord,” Hestian piped up. “A new destroyer, just finished two days ago.”
Verrikoth paused, stunned. “What do you mean a new desstroyer?”
The wolf looked slightly embarrassed, ducking his head slightly and folding his ears flat to his head. “The Yard Supervisor wanted to impress you, so he made a rallying speech to the workers. It was quite impassioned. He extolled your virtues and the benefits of living under your rule and that perhaps it was time for them and all of us to show our appreciation. So, on their off hours, one of the other supervisors convinced that Republic starfighter technician, you know, the one who designed and built the Sparhawks? They worked together and found the specs for a destroyer-class warship in the databases.”
“The databassez?” Verrikoth demanded. “What databassez?”
“The ones that the Yard Supervisor dug up when he went on his most recent tour of the gas refinery complex in the planet,” Hestian said, pointing a clawed thumb over his shoulder. “He’s been really interested in getting more of that collector/refinery monstrosity online. I guess they managed to cut through some of the damage there and found a new compartment, with four new data cores.” The lupusan chuckled to himself. “As I understand, he was literally buzzing with excitement.”
“What kind of designz did he find?” Verrikoth felt himself getting excited over the find.
“Many,” Hestian replied. “The problem is some of the designs, or rather, most of them, are still locked out, or due to damage, the files were completed corrupted or lost. Still,” he admitted, “there are many that he could access and the two of them decided that the best to start off on was this destroyer. They poured in the hours, and only a few days ago the ship was completed and run through a shakedown.”
Verrikoth tapped a blunt finger on the tabletop, but then something occurred to him. He straightened. “That iz amazing, Commander. I cannot believe that the workerz would produce ssuch a warsship. I will have to find a way to thank them.” He found that he was actually touched by this gesture. He eyed the lupusan for a long moment, wondering if perhaps he was the butt of a joke. Pressing a few controls, he brought up a display of the sensor feeds for Nemesis. Sure enough, the heavy cruiser was detecting a second destroyer in the system, holding parking orbit five kilometers outside one of the construction slips. It wasn’t a lie, though perhaps there was a large amount of hyperbole in the retelling. He made a note to himself to find some suitable reward for his workers, and for the Yard Supervisor. And that Republic turncoat. That human was worth his weight in gadolinium.
“I have detected a flaw, however, Commander,” Verrikoth replied, returning to the moment. At the other’s inquisitive look, he continued. “The crew staffing issue. You have not enough people to crew the sshipss you already have in sspace. In fact, all of the warsshipss in my fleet are sseverely undercrewed. And now you want to add a desstroyer to the flotilla? How?”
Hestian looked grumpy. “Indeed you are correct, Warlord. I understood that a recruiting drive was underway?”
“Yess, but there iz no indication of how long it will be before any of the recruitment sshipss come back,” Verrikoth replied. He let out a long subsonic buzz. “But that will need to be part of my dutiez az I make my way to the ssouthern tier.” He flicked his antennae. “But on to your orderz. You will take your attack flotilla and hit the sso-called pirate gang known az Baron Death. Commander Tyler haz ssolid information on their location, you are to take your sshipss there and deal with them.”
Hestian gave a slow nod. “Understood, my Lord. Wipe them out?”
Verrikoth’s antennae bobbed up and down. “Do whatever you need to do. But any intel you can sscrounge, any sshipss that you can capture, I will pay a bounty. But the desstruction of the group iz paramount. Am I clear?”
The lupusan commander nodded, flicking his ears. “Perfectly, my Lord. I relish the opportunity.”
“I will be gone ssoon, moving ssouth in my territory, heading back to Trullium, but I will sswing through all the other ssysstemz on my way. I have to sshow them off to the Xai’ryn and I wissh to ssee how they are all progressing.”
“Understood, my Lord. So I will be in command of this area, as well as the flotilla?” he asked, his voice strangely tense.
“Yess, you will, Commander,” Verrikoth said slowly. “I will be imparting a great deal of trusst in you and your decisionz. Do not dissappoint me.”
The lupusan straightened. “I will not, my Lord.” He paused for a moment. “What of the heavy cruiser? It is nearly completed.”
“Yess. I will be on the far sside of the territory by the time it iz ready. I will think about it while Nemessiss iz sstill within the ssysstem. I will provide you with my decision before we depart.”
Hestian, surprisingly, seemed satisfied with this decision. Verrikoth studied him for a long moment, then bobbed his antennae again and went on with the meeting. “There are a few houssekeeping itemz to disscuss, and then you can get back to your planning.” Hestian picked up his datapad, somehow looking more attentive.
Chapter 8
Kaspar Bhavanian stood just outside the hatch to the Warlord’s conference room, sweating profusely and wringing his hands. The snakes that appeared in his stomach overnight refused to stop slithering ever since he received the summons to the flagship. I’ve done nothing wrong! he told himself, trying desperately to calm his nerves. I developed the Sparhawks, got them up and off the line. I convinced the Yard Supervisor that the destroyer was a good idea when he didn’t want to do it. We managed to get the workers on board with the project, and we got the ship up and running! If we had a few more dozen robots and a hundred techs, I could get the He3 refinery up to fifteen to seventeen capacity in three weeks. All that, and I’m here for punishment duty, I know it. Why would he possibly want to see a worker? A Republic captive?
His own guard, Hobren, stayed in the shuttle bay; he wasn’t invited, which was an anomaly in Kaspar’s life since the big wolf had been nigh-inseparable from his charge ever since that fated meeting in the Yard Supervisor’s office all those months ago. His primary job had been to keep the other workers away from Kaspar, for fear of them doing some harm to his charge.
“Enter,” a voice called from the other side of the door. Kaspar gulped and then keyed the door. It slid open with an audible hiss and taking a deep breath; he stepped inside.
The conference room was not large, but it could hold a dozen people. They’d be cramped, but they’d fit. At the far end of the table from the hatch, but not at the actual head of the table, sat a zheen, Lord Verrikoth in fact. Everyone knew who he was, scarred mandibles and all; no one would ever mistake someone else for the Warlord.
Kaspar stepped inside, just inside, and stepped to rigid attention, aiming his gaze straight at the far bulkhead. This is no different from meeting with an angry Admiral. Then he suppressed a chuckle tinged with h
ysteria. Who am I kidding? This is way worse.
“Kaspar Bhavanian reporting, my Lord Verrikoth,” he said, his voice cracking on the last syllable. He snapped his jaws shut.
The zheen turned from the datapad he was consulting to look at the man directly. It wasn’t necessary, of course, what with the compound eyes, but most zheen tended to conform to mammalian convention and face those they conversed with.
“Kasspar Bhavanian, indeed,” the Warlord said, looking over at him. He stood, walking over to where the man was standing, looking up at the man’s face. The human’s posture crumbled, he slumped, and his gaze dropped to the floor between them, unable to meet the zheen’s gaze.
“Look up at me,” the Warlord ordered. Kaspar’s head raised, but then fear shot through him, and his face dropped again. “You defy my orderz?”
Sweat was pouring off his face, staining his armpits, soaking his back. “I cannot help it, my Lord Verrikoth. The Yard Supervisor demands we never make eye contact… my Lord.” His voice was shaking.
Verrikoth hissed. “Look up at me, now.” His tone brooked no disobedience.
Kaspar took a deep breath and did so, feeling as though two thousand kilos of lead was attached to the top of his head. His gaze swept over the zheen until he was looking him in the compound eyes.
“In the future, when you sspeak with me, you will look at me.” Verrikoth’s mouthparts writhed and a deep hum emanated from his thorax. “If you defy me in thiss, you will regret it.”
Kaspar felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Um.. yes. Yes, my Lord Verrikoth.”
“Good. Now, az I understand it waz you who came up with the planz for the Ssparhawk sstarfighterz?”
“Uh, yes my Lord. I did.”
“And you then built it and brought the ssquadron into operation?”
Kaspar couldn’t help flicking his eyes to the side and then back to the Warlord. “Yes, yes, Warlord.”
Verrikoth hesitated for a moment. “I have it on good authority that the Yard Ssupervizor did not want anyone working on the fuel mine, sstating that there were other prioritiez. And ssuddenly, once I’ve left the ssysstem, he iz interessted in not only going over there but breaking into damaged and clozed off ssectionz?”
He felt like a trapped animal. Stupid! I should never have sent those two memos to the Yard Supervisor without having the Warlord here to get permission. Did I get him in trouble? I am so dead.
“And waz it you who convinced him to go over?”
His spine straightened. “Yes, my Lord, it was.” He could feel the fear beginning to ebb. It wasn’t gone completely; the Warlord could still make him hurt, but if his fate was sealed then he would stand his ground.
The zheen obviously noted the change. “And I undersstand that after a meeting with you, he then addressed the workerz about building the desstroyer. Sseemz sstrange that he would do sso.”
“Apologies, my Lord,” he said, his voice calm. “I am not as familiar with the Yard Supervisor. We have had a few conversations and I might have suggested that if we increased the fuel output here,” he paused, swallowing to moisten his throat, “That we might be able to get more industrial units online and top up the fuel bunkers on our ships- um, your ships, Lord.” Another breath. “Finding those engineering data cores was a complete fluke. I had no idea they would be aboard the fueling station, nor that we would be able to crack them and salvage any plans once we did.”
“It ssoundz az though you are quite lucky.”
He gulped but didn’t back down. “I like to think I’m in the right place to take advantage of opportunities, my Lord.”
Verrikoth turned away and walked back to the table, sitting himself down in his seat. He then gestured for the man to stand on the opposite side of the table from him. Kaspar did so, proud of himself for not wobbling as he walked over to stand by the table. “I think you are one to make opportunitiez. Sso far you have delivered on your promissez, and if what I have sseen sso far is prologue, I want all that potential working for me.”
A glimmer of hope. “My Lord?”
“What can you do for the gass refinery?”
Kaspar blinked. “Uh… well. Given the current state of things, if a team of a couple of dozen workers and a hundred or so constructor bots could get in there, inside of three weeks, we could have the refinery and processing gear running at about fifteen percent capacity. Almost double current output.” He looked away from Verrikoth, over the zheen’s head. “Then we’d have to build more storage tanks, hell, a tank farm. Of course, we might not need a huge amount of storage, considering all the new fabricators and machinery that would need fuel, and of course, topping up the fleet.”
Verrikoth held up a hand. “And I undersstand that you also have many new ideaz for the sshipyard?”
“Many,” the man replied, nodding. “But not all of them for ships. I have an idea for a few tweaks for the fusion reactors, and also for some of the hydraulics on this aero-fighter design that I found in the data core-“
“Sstop.” Verrikoth held up a hand. “Why do you do thiss? Build thingz? Why are you not like your fellowz from the Republic?”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he straightened and looked to the zheen. “I never really got along in the Republic. I had disciplinary problems, which landed me out here in the Argos Cluster. But the biggest problem… was that they never really gave me a chance. I was a welder, who had done some trade school stuff before my stint in the Navy. I couldn’t afford proper school and with the black marks on my fitness reports, I was never going to get the proper training through the Navy. I was never allowed ever to design or build anything. I’ve been designing things for the last eleven years; no one would even look at my designs. Not until I came here.”
“Your colleaguez would not agree.”
He chopped a hand through the air. “Well then forget them. They are never going to be happy because they have things to look forward to if they can get back to the Republic. I have nothing waiting for me there; I never want to go back.” He sighed. “The Yard Supervisor gave me a chance to stretch my wings and I’m grateful. But I will never go back.”
Verrikoth watched him for a long moment. “Take a sseat.” Kaspar did so, folding his hands on the table. “I am glad to hear that you enjoy your work here. I know that conditionz have been harsh. But I am pleazed with your performance sso far. And if what I hear about theze planz of yourz are any indicationz, I can be certain to promisse that you will have plenty of work on your plate in the forsseeable future.”
“My Lord?”
“I reward merit in my fleet, Kasspar Bhavanian. Work well, and you will be treated well. And the rewardz will be commenssurate.” He reached out and pressed two buttons on his datapad.
The disruptor on Kaspar’s neck let out an audible beep and suddenly his field of view was awash with macros and light. “My implants…”
“I have turned the dissruptor off,” Verrikoth explained. “I will not remove it, however, az a check on your good behavior.”
Kaspar nodded, just so glad to have the full use of his implanted computers again that the threat just washed right over and past him. “I understand, my Lord. Perfectly.”
Verrikoth reached into his belt pouch and produced a small plastic packet, the size of his palm and tossed it across the table. It clinked as it as it landed and slid to the man’s hand. Kaspar picked it up and examined it. He frowned back at the Warlord.
“My Lord?”
“A common worker, a sslave, cannot have the proper authority to get done what needz to be done in my fleet. Clip thoze rank barz on your collar, Lieutenant. And then get back to work. I want your plan for overhauling the fuel refinery by the end of the watch.”
“Of course, my Lord,” the newest lieutenant in Verrikoth’s armed forces replied, stunned. “Thank you.”
Verrikoth swirled his antennae. “You earned it. It iz not a gift. Get out there and prove to me I waz right to promote you.”
Kaspa
r stood, clutching the rank bars in his fist. He drew himself up to his full height and then gave a crisp salute, in the Republic style, bringing his right hand up to his forehead.
Verrkoth chittered. “I appreciate the gessture, Lieutenant. But that is how the Republic doez a ssalute. Do not do that again here.” Lieutenant Bhavanian flushed in embarrassment, then brought his right arm around to tap his right breast. “Better.” He rose to his feet himself and returned the salute. “Now go.”
Kaspar nodded and all but dashed from the compartment.
((--[][]--))
“Was that one a prisoner?” the Xai’ryn asked, once the hatch closed beside the man. Her visage appeared on a virtual display which popped up above the conference table; she seemed more curious than anything else.
Verrikoth dipped his antennae briefly. “Yess, he waz one of thoze captured at Byra-Kae. A hard worker and a talented engineer.”
The Xai’ryn paused, obviously digesting this. “And you have no problem trusting him? This former prisoner?”
Verrikoth continued reading from his datapad. “I do. And he iz not being let off the leash. The dissruptor can ssubdue him quite easily and kill him without effort if it comez to that. But I believe it iz the apricot, not the sstick, that will sserve us besst here.”
“In what way?” she asked, the sneer clearly evident in her tone.
“He haz been little more than a drudge worker hiz whole life, with no opportunity for advancement,” Verrikoth explained. “Apparently his ambitionz and talentss required more of him. Sso far he has not failed me in any of the endeavorz he haz aimed for. I want, no I need, that drive working for me.”
The Xai’ryn was silent, taking it in. “What drives you?” she asked bluntly.
Now it was his turn to pause and consider. “The dezire to build ssomething lassting. To push back againsst the Republic and other doubterz and rize above the drudge living in the Argoss Clusster. And for everyone to know I waz the one who did thiss.”
The Warlord's Path Page 19
