A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9)

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A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9) Page 24

by Jamie McFarlane


  We talked until the discussion lagged and I finally allowed myself to be pulled into other conversations. I knew my friends wanted to provide comfort and I would let them.

  It was late in the evening when most of the room had cleared and Mom retired to one of the many sleeping quarters.

  "How will Frimunt get back to Descartes?" I asked, sitting on a stool next to Nick at the bar.

  "I made a deal with the Lichts to lease Kestrel. I didn't think we'd be delivering ore anytime soon," Nick said.

  "That's a good idea. He's interested?"

  "Frimunt's not, but he says Selig is. I made them a good deal on the ship," Nick said.

  "I don't think I could deliver ore to Belirand, no matter the price," I said.

  "He's planning to build other contracts. They don't want to deal with Belirand either."

  "What about Jack?" I asked.

  "He'd like to stay with Celina and Jenny. He's old enough to make that decision and I don't think he'll be in any danger on Lèger Nuage. Celina is street-smart, she'll keep an eye out for him."

  "What about Sterra's Gift?" I asked.

  "Berandor made an offer on it, but I said I'd have to talk to you about it. He wants to equip it with the light absorptive armor we have on Hotspur," Nick said.

  "That's right. We gave him a single run of it. Does he have enough credits to do both?"

  "Who knows, but I think we should consider the offer. We're never going to sail her again, not with Hotspur," he said.

  "Up to you. I like Jake well enough. I'd want right of first refusal if he ever decides to sell it, though," I said.

  "He actually suggested that."

  "What would you sell it for?"

  "He offered eight hundred thousand," Nick said.

  "That's probably about right," I said.

  "Tipperary credits. It's a low offer. I'll push him up to one point four," Nick said.

  "Oh, right," I said. I'd forgotten that Tipperary Credits were worth about fifty percent of Mars.

  "We aren't letting you make any deals for a while," Nick said, lightly punching my leg.

  Tabby's arms slipped over my shoulders from the back. "We should be getting to bed, you have to be exhausted."

  "Okay," I said to her. "But, something's been bugging me."

  "Oh?" Nick asked.

  "What happened with MacAsgaill? How'd he end up changing his mind? You know anything about that?"

  "I wondered when you'd get around to that," Nick said. "It was actually Jonathan."

  "Jonathan? Where's he been?"

  "In his room, wanted to remain anonymous," Nick said. "I'll let him tell you how they freed you," Nick said, standing up.

  "I gotta hear this. I'm coming too," Tabby said.

  "No need to move, Miss Masters," Jonathan said, entering the common living space. "We'd wondered when you might like to speak about this."

  "Nick said you freed us from the brig. How'd you manage that?" I asked.

  "Master Anino's companies are not without their resources. It is one of the things we've learned about mankind. They often strike at their enemy in a way they most fear," Jonathan said.

  "By attacking my parents?"

  "Yes. Each time either Tullas or MacAsgaill threatened you, they brought your friends and family into the argument. We simply did some research, located MacAsgaill's family and delivered a few videos that showed an agent of ours near his family," he said.

  "You threatened his family?" I asked.

  "Not at all. His family was none the wiser. The threat was completely inferred, as we would neither condone, nor facilitate violence in that way."

  "That's a pretty subtle distinction," I said.

  "We felt it likely Belirand would terminate you and Tabitha. It was an acceptable compromise," he said.

  "Thank you."

  "You are welcome."

  "Tell him about the world you found," Nick said.

  "I thought we had planned to give Captain Liam time to mourn," Jonathan said.

  "A world for the crew of Cape?" I asked.

  "Jonathan's been cycling through the communication crystals and got a hit. The planet is a near perfect match to Earth," Nick said.

  "And there's a human population that responded to the comm crystal?" I asked.

  "It's more complex than that," Jonathan said.

  "It always is."

  "The planet is called Ophir. It is one thousand ninety-six light years from Tipperary and was one of NaGEK's many failed attempts at colonization," he said.

  "How did it fail?"

  "You must understand," Jonathan said. "Early on, Anino's fold-space generator was exorbitantly expensive to deploy. Solar systems and planets were explored with deep scans and suitability was determined by examining the results of these scans. They identified, with a high degree of accuracy, planets suitable for human life. For example, Grünholz, the planet beneath us, was settled this way. The Ophir mission failed due to the discovery, upon arrival, that the planet was already inhabited by a sentient species."

  "I'm still having a hard time believing Belirand would go to such great lengths to hide that there is other intelligent life in the universe," I said, shaking my head.

  "Belirand is motivated by the profit they generate through the TransLoc gates," he said. "They have been successful at convincing NaGEK to fear new sentient species."

  "Sounds like corporate septic shite to me," I said. "Anything for a profit, even at the expense of people's lives. But this colony is still there? They're thriving? That would be perfect."

  "Perhaps this would better be left until tomorrow. There is a lot to take in and you both must be exhausted," he said.

  "No. Dad died for this. I'd like to hear what you've found," I said.

  Tabby touched my arm. "Me too."

  "Very well. First, you need to understand, it appears that the colonists are not aware of the function of the communication crystal. I'm able to pick up transmissions only under certain circumstances. The device is sitting in some sort of communal meeting room," he said. "I will replay the most recent conversations. It appears the colonists are facing a crisis with the indigenous species."

  "Let's hear it," I said.

  Jonathan played back a series of recordings he'd taken over the last week.

  "Sounds like they really believe they're in trouble. But, they're talking about swords and quad copters. Their technology is all over the board," Nick said.

  "It is my understanding that they have a single replicator and are resource constrained. They are unable to manufacture blaster level technology," Jonathan said. "The indigenous are physically superior, but intellectually inferior. We believe the equilibrium has recently been upset due to the technology of the human settlers starting to fail."

  "How many original colonists were there?" I asked.

  "Six hundred."

  "That must have been a huge ship. How long ago?"

  "Three hundred forty standard years."

  "And they've only grown to eight hundred?"

  "We're considering two possibilities. There may be some issue that causes fertility rates to be low. The other possibility is that they have downward population pressure from a persistent enemy. It is difficult to be certain. We think the latter to be the most likely."

  "How likely is it that Belirand will follow us to Ophir?" I asked.

  "They chased us into the deep dark to catch us in the open. I think it's a safe bet they'd chase us to Ophir," Nick said. "I don't see why they'd attack the colony, however. And, if that Yishuv council is right, they aren't expecting to survive the upcoming war. We might be their best hope."

  "Is Hotspur ready to go?" I asked.

  "Fully. We're loaded with enough supplies for three months for us and the Cape's crew," he said.

  "Perfect. Here's the plan. Tell Jake Berandor we'll sell him Sterra's Gift for six missiles and seven hundred thousand, but only if he can deliver the missiles immediately. He can pay the seven hundred thousand of
f over time if he likes. Jonathan, tell me what you need to install a fold-space drive on Cape of Good Hope."

  ASSAULT ON YISHUV

  Yishuv Settlement, Planet Ophir

  Eliora looked across the south wall with a mix of pride and trepidation. Her former students stood with bows ready, a quiver of arrows at their feet and a sword on their back or hanging from their waist. The roar of the Ophie racing around the corner of the settlement was deafening. As she'd feared, they'd learned to avoid the eastern wall and gate that was well protected by the settlement's only remaining mounted blaster. Their obvious target, the southwest gate.

  "Steady. Conserve your arrows." She spoke with a confidence and authority she didn't feel as she walked down the line. "We don't fire until they're within the red zone."

  Earlier in the tenday, they'd set posts in the field that marked the maximum archer's range.

  Looking out, she saw three pods of Ophie peel off from the main group, running south toward the tree line. The remaining horde of over two thousand had lined up a hundred meters from the wall, chittering and gesturing excitedly.

  "Merrie. There's a group headed south. Can you see what they're up to?" Eliora asked.

  "Quad-14 headed south," Merrie replied.

  "Shem, what's your count on the west wall?" Gian asked.

  "We're clear over here," came the response.

  "North wall, report."

  "We're clear, Captain."

  "Eliora, you have the main force. Shem, pull a squad and take your blaster rifle to the south wall and start working on the main group," Gian said. "I'm on my way over."

  "What do we do? How can a hundred archers hold off an army of thousands?" It took Eliora a moment to recall Calendal's name from memory. He was not one of her best archers, but he always gave it his best.

  "We wait, Calendal. We are defending and will not be drawn away from our defenses. The wall will hold. The Ophie have done this in the past, they're giving us a chance to meet them in the field for battle. It is an offer we will not accept," she said. "Stay alert, your family depends on us."

  "I will."

  "South wall. I have news on the break-off group," Merrie's voice cut through on the talkie. "This might be a problem. The Ophie who ran to the forest are cleaning off the branches of trees we felled."

  Eliora heard a gasp from Calendal, who'd overheard the conversation.

  "Understood," Eliora said.

  A blaster bolt, from the west edge of the south wall struck and killed an Ophie at the edge of the invasion force. Shem had taken a shot at the head of the beast and his risk had paid off. The response from the horde was immediate as they roared almost in unison and rushed the wall.

  "Wait for it," Eliora said as the wall beneath her shook from the feet of thousands of Ophie rushing in.

  "Spikes!" She yelled as the Ophie crossed the imaginary line between the posts in the ground.

  Ropes from the wall were pulled and rows of pikes were pulled from the ground, hinged supports falling beneath them to hold the long, iron spears at forty five degrees. The Ophie in the lead impaled themselves, as they were unable to arrest their momentum.

  A cheer rose up from the wall as more than fifty of the enemy were killed with the single trick.

  Without hesitation, the following Ophie simply vaulted over their dying brethren and continued the race to the wall.

  Eliora knew she had no time to celebrate. Fifty dead or wounded in a sea of two thousand would not turn the war.

  "Archers, nock!" she yelled.

  "Aim for the chest," she reminded them waiting for the Ophies to reach a critical spot.

  "Fire!"

  The sound of twanging bowstrings were followed by dozens of Ophie falling, but the horde continued their push forward.

  For several minutes the battle continued its lopsided tally as one-by-one, Ophie fell to the constant rain of arrows. Eliora estimated they'd taken at least three hundred from the main force.

  "South wall. They're coming," Merrie said. "They're bringing the trunks of those trees."

  Gian had joined them on the wall and heard Merrie's news.

  "We cannot allow those timbers to be brought to the wall," he shouted. "Focus all fire. Shem, shoot them."

  For a period of time they successfully stopped the trunks of trees from advancing, but the remaining Ophie soon recognized the strategy and turned their efforts to helping their comrades.

  Eliora watched, helplessly as one by one, the tall trunks were leaned against the gates.

  "Gate defense, to street level!" Eliora yelled.

  She didn't hesitate as she sprinted for the steps that led down to the gate. It would be a matter of moments before Ophie started pouring over the gate.

  Archers from above fired down at the Ophie as they climbed the timbers and for a while, they held them off. It gave Eliora and her squads time to form up, but it was a just a matter of time before they started spilling over.

  "Archers at the ready," she called out. They'd drilled for a gate breach and she looked on with pride as the brave men and women took their positions. Half were ready with bows, their partners standing behind with swords.

  "It's breaking!" Shem's voice cut through the talkie. "The hinges, they're failing!"

  They'd installed more than hinges, the gates had been buttressed with iron beams, but Eliora watched it start to fail.

  "Gian. You must fall back, you're too close!" Eliora yelled.

  Captain Gian was on top of the wall next to the stairs and when the gates failed, the Ophie would have a direct path to him.

  "Shem, take a squad back to the keep," Gian spoke into the talkie. "We'll hold the wall for as long as we can. Do not lose the blaster rifle."

  Eliora saw a look of grief in Shem's eyes as he nodded and waved his squad down the stairs past Gian. It was a horrible thing he'd asked Shem to do, but the blaster rifle was critical to defending the main turret at the keep. The settlement could be lost without them both.

  As Shem rushed past her position, a great groaning sound emanated from the gate as it collapsed forward, into the city.

  "Fire!" Eliora yelled.

  The Ophie paid a horrible price as they surged through the choked entry to the city. The defenders slaughtered them as they crawled over the bodies of their fallen, only to be struck down by arrow and blade.

  The battle continued to be fought by inches until the stock of arrows dwindled in her archer's quivers.

  "Captain, we're nearly out of arrows," Eliora said into the talkie.

  "Eliora, you must fall back to the Keep with our remaining forces. We will hold them for as long as we can. Take all from the walls," he ordered and dropped his talkie on the ground.

  She could just hear him over the din, "Captain's guard on me!" He raised his long sword and rushed into the melee at the gate.

  "Sound the retreat. We'll hold this line until the wall archers make it down," Eliora said.

  Dael pulled a whistle from around his neck and blew, the shrill warbling sound cutting through the sounds of battle. He continued to blow as the archers disappeared into the stairwells and, after exiting, fled to the keep.

  "Advance," Eliora said as she saw a few Ophie manage to get around the Captain's forces, who were attempting to hold the breached gate. The Ophie could not be allowed to engage her archers, who were now defenseless.

  Eliora felt a certain grim satisfaction as she struck the first Ophie with her katana. It was small, full of vigor and blood lust. She thought she recognized a look of surprise on its face as she drove the weapon into its chest.

  "Eliora, go!" Gian yelled at her. "There are too many. You must defend the Keep!"

  "Frak. Fall back," she said.

  "Go, Eliora," Coral said, stepping in next to her. "We will give you time."

  "Move, now!" Eliora commanded and turned away from the battle. At the same time, she heard the clash of sword and club behind her.

  Her two squads had been reduced to almost one. She loo
ked over her shoulder as they fled, only to see Coral fall to the blow of an Ophie. Pride and sadness welled up within her as Dael stepped protectively over the woman's crumpled body taking his last stand, falling a moment later.

  A stream of Ophie erupted through the gate and Eliora knew that Gian had lost his battle.

  "Go, Go!" she urged the group, which was unnecessary as they were all fleeing as fast as they could.

  "Shem, we're coming in with a group," Eliora said, having pulled her talkie from her belt.

  "Merrie's tracking you. Just get past the bakery and we'll have a clean shot from the blaster," he said.

  "I don't know if we're going to make it. They're gaining on us."

  "You'll make it. You have to," he said.

  Eliora tried to put the talkie back on her waist but fumbled it, dropping it to the ground. She didn't even consider picking it up as they continued their sprint through the once serene streets of their settlement.

  Her heart leapt as the bakery came into view, but her hopes were dashed just as quickly. An Ophie jumped them from behind, pulling down the man next to her. She drew her katana and turned, prepared to take a stand, but the Ophie had already killed the man and discarded his body.

  The open door of the Keep beckoned. She watched as, one by one, the fleeing archers disappeared into its depths. Eliora crossed the imaginary line where she knew the blaster could reach and stopped five meters inside of it.

  The Ophie who'd torn apart her comrade just moments ago, with blood still dripping from its claw, jumped into the air with its club raised over its head.

  Eliora stood firm, ready to strike with her katana, when she felt the heat of the heavy blaster bolt. The beast fell lifelessly to the ground, a great hunk of its chest now gone.

  "Eliora, what are you doing?" Shem yelled from the doorway.

  "They won't advance without a target. Just keep them off me," she yelled back.

  "That's insane," he yelled. "What if there are too many."

  "Put archers on the barracks and shoot them yourself!"

  Five more Ophie appeared around the end of the building and raced toward her. Shem was right, if there were fifty of them, it might be a problem. She backed up, giving the gunner more room to work.

 

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