With our help, and these surviving orbital workers, hopefully the Liverwurst System would be able to recover from this blow and carry on.
I did have one question for the Planetary Governor, though.
“What about your System Defense Force,” I asked the short, pale man on the screen. “We didn’t see any sign of it.”
The Liverwurst Governor flushed and then went pale. “We couldn’t afford to purchase our own ships outright, so we hired a pair of mercenaries. A Corvette and the Destroyer. When word reached us that the Empire had withdrawn from our section and there was a breakdown in authority, one of the mercenaries left the system. The Captain of the Destroyer wouldn’t tell us what was going on, but it became pretty obvious what was going on when the missing Corvette turned up along with the rest of the pirates you encountered. The Destroyer joined the others and immediately seized control of one of our orbital factories,” he said grimly.
“Ouch,” I winced, “I guess this just goes to show that it's best to keep defense in your own two hands, as much as possible.”
“You’re right, Admiral Montagne,” he said, nodding his head. “We had an orbital defense battery, but the Destroyer took it out as soon as the rest of the pirates jumped in system.”
“A bad business. I hope my ship and I get the chance to catch up with those faithless mercenaries,” I said with conviction. The thought of taking someone’s money, then at the first sign of weakness wrecking everything they’d struggled to build and taking the people who had been paying you as slaves… made my stomach turn.
“I don’t know how we’re going to recover from this and figure out how to pay for ships of our own, but Liverwurst will survive. You can count on that,” said the little politician, sounding like he was already practicing his lines for a stump speech.
I turned my head under the guise of looking at something important just so I could roll my eyes without him seeing it. “We’ll do everything we can to help out, while we’re here, Governor,” I said sincerely. At this point there was no hope of tracking down the little squadron of pirates. The best thing we could do was preserve and repair as much of the damaged habitats, and the single stripped and shot-up factory still in orbit.
“You don’t know how grateful we in Liverwurst are that you came along when you did,” the Governor said with desperate gratitude.
I couldn’t help the skeptical look that crept across my features, but in the face of the man’s earnestness I couldn’t help but feel the skepticism fade away and a genuine smile take its place.
“Gratitude seems to be in short supply for our efforts along the Rim," I said gratefully. "At least so far, Governor. It's nice to finally see some. On behalf of myself and my crew, if there’s anything we can do while we’re here, just let us know and we’ll do our best,” I finished, happy to see a smiling face and words of thanks instead of the usual scowls, insults and threats of contacting an assemblyman to lodge an official complaint.
We spent nearly a full week wrangling floating orbital structures and patching holes. We even helped them get one of their pillaged factories' damaged secondary extruders functioning again. The primary had been removed and both secondaries riddled with blaster and plasma bolts. That one was a complete loss, but taking it down to parts and using the machine shop on the Lucky Clover, we were able to get the other one up and working again before we took off.
The locals were unhappy to see us go but really, every day we spent there was another one for the Pirates to attack and damage other unsuspecting worlds on the Rim. I just couldn’t justify hanging around any longer.
During our time in Liverwurst, the command team brainstormed every possible solution to being bigger and slower than our piratical counterparts. Nothing we came up with so far was either palatable or, if palatable, it was pretty impractical. The only thing that might have a chance was to do as Admiral Janeski had done: hide our ship near something the Pirates were almost certain to come after, and then lay in wait.
We had no missiles, and I wasn’t about to strew Lancers on ballistic courses all over the system in the hopes the pirates would slow down enough for the individual Lancers to match velocity and try to board.
From there the ideas became much further fetched.
As far as I could tell, pretending to be pirates ourselves and getting in as close as possible was our best and only chance, next to the trap scheme, which required an extended commitment in one system.
With no great solutions, we’d done all we could in this system.
Point transferring out of the system, we started what was to be a long and very unappreciated haul along the border of Rim space.
The next system had also been hit by pirates. However, their pair of system defenders had pulled off some insane maneuvers and convinced the pirates to back off and go try their luck elsewhere.
The Governor was glad to see us but not overly excited. She soon warmed up though, after I volunteered the services of our Engineering department.
“I understand the Imperials pulled out, and I hope they don’t think there won’t be a number of expensive lawsuits filed against them in court,” she said scowling. “But I have to say, I’m not terribly impressed with the Confederation’s lackluster response to this crisis. The commander of our little SDF tells me you have one big, old lug of a ship, too large to properly chase down these vultures. It's more properly suited for the line of battle than pirate hunting, from what I'm told.”
“I assure you that the Lucky Clover has driven off, and actually captured a number of pirate vessels,” I said, feeling myself bristle at our implied impotence. I hated it when even the uneducated locals could point out glaring holes in my plans.
She gave me a skeptical look then decided to let it pass. “Regardless, how many ships have the Core Worlds, at least what passes for Core Worlds in this Sector, ponied up to help those of us being attacked here on the Rim,” she asked with a penetrating gaze.
Unable to meet her gaze, I eventually broke down and told her the truth. “The Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet is an organization started by the Confederated Empire before it pulled out of the sector. We started out as an at-will organization, and most of the warships in the Fleet have already been recalled to their home-worlds,” I said bluntly.
Her gaze seemed to look right through me. “Yet here you are,” she said wisely.
“Here we are," I agreed, "and hopefully here we’ll stay until the bitter end, or at least until after we deal with the pirates rampaging through the sector,” I finished, glad to gloss over the subject as best I could.
“The border is on fire,” the Governor said frankly, “you’ve got to find the pirates and crush them.”
I nodded my agreement, but we both knew this was easier said than done.
We left that system as quickly as we could manage, since they had sustained the least amount of actual damage of any planet we had visited to that point.
The next several systems were hit and miss. Some had already been raided, others had driven off their piratical allies with some losses. Several had been overlooked, and there was no evidence of pirates ever being anywhere in those system.
It was in one of these unaffected systems that we caught our next glimpse of the mysterious pirate with all the little gunships, and what we had since identified as an old Pterodactyl Class Corvette. Back in its heyday, the Pterodactyl had been known for an extra large shuttle bay, and shuttle repair facilities.
Probably why Mr. Mysterious, with his prejudice against ‘base-stock’ had picked it. We estimated the large shuttle bay just might be able to handle the gunships without much modification.
“Contact,” yelled a sensor operator, fear and excitement warring within in her voice.
“Identify and forward it to tactical and the main screen,” snapped Tremblay, upset at either her emotional outburst, the appearance of something unexpected, or both.
The sensor operator looked a little shame-faced at her conduct and snapped off a
, “Yes sir,” before hunching over her console to hide her face.
Tactical sounded excited. “I’m getting a match from the ships in our recently encountered database,” exclaimed one of the tactical trainees, “that ship matches the profile of the Pirate who got away from us back in Nova-Practica!”
I flashed my teeth. “I guess it’s a small world after all,” I remarked coldly.
The First Officer smirked, “Looks like ‘Monkey-boy' and his gun ships are back for round two,” he said.
I gave him a quelling look. “I don’t hold with prejudice against Gene-mods,” I said, perhaps a bit hypocritically. I wondered if I would be so pro-tolerance if I didn’t strongly suspect some genetic tampering in my own back ground. To say nothing of my wife, who I was certain had been gene-engineered to impressive, even incredible standard.
“I was just using the same name his former pirate colleagues gave us. I can’t help it if he refuses to properly identify himself to us,” said the First Officer, doing his best to look innocent.
“He called himself Primarch Glue,” I reminded the Lieutenant.
Officer Tremblay affected a surprised look. "Why, so he did, Sir. I’ll have to remember that the next time I have need to reference him,” said Tremblay, his voice full of false contrition.
I wasn’t buying it for a minute, but decided to let it drop.
This Pirate already knew us, so there was no point in trying to disguise our true natures. He wasn’t going to buy anything we were selling today.
Surprisingly, the Pirate Corvette decided to make a run into the system despite our presence, and the presence of two SDF Corvettes.
As we watched, miniature gunships started spitting out the hind end of the Pirate Corvette. One by one, until the whole little swarm was present. Then the Pirate Commander, this Primarch Glue did something strange.
He split his force, sending his Corvette racing into the system one way and the swarm of gunships another.
“Which one do we go after first, Admiral,” asked Tremblay.
I was really torn. On the one hand, I had seen what those gunships had done to the two Corvettes, so I didn’t necessarily want to send the little SDF force to meet the same fate as the pirates I’d seen get trounced earlier. On the other hand, there was no way this Battleship could catch even one gunship, let alone the whole pack.
Tremblay spoke up. "We would probably do better keeping close to the industrial targets, since we know those are their objectives. If this 'Primarch' isn't determined to just tuck his tail and run off, he'd have to come to us, and his force's maneuverability will lose a lot of its tactical value."
Following this sage advice, I ordered us to turn back to the system factories and instructed the orbital habitats to fire their maneuvering thrusters to get as close together as they could for our protection.
While Primarch Glue led the two system defenders a merry chase, we focused on the action soon to take place here in the heart of the system.
We got as close to the twenty or so floating space factories and habitats as we could, and then sat and waited.
We didn’t have to wait very long. These little gunships weren’t the fastest craft our staff had ever seen, but compared to our ship and even the system defense Corvettes, they were quicker than anything I had personally seen so far.
Surprisingly, by the time the little gunships actually got close to within range of the Lucky Clover, the pirate Corvette had also made its way into the same general vicinity.
The System Defense Corvettes were having trouble keeping up with the Pirate Corvette. For such an ancient ship design, I was forced to wonder just what Glue had managed to put underneath the hood of that thing.
When the little pirate gunships came at us, they acted with surprising uniformity and almost to the second, every single ship broke wide to go around us.
Prepared for this eventuality, our Helmsman jerked us almost immediately into a full burn maneuver. I could actually feel some of the gee forces in the turn as it temporarily got away from the stabilizers.
Unfortunately, just as we were ready for their maneuver, the little gunships were ready for ours. Screaming away almost as soon as they registered our movement, all but one of the little gunships managed to avoid our long ranged turbo-batteries.
Tactical erupted into cheers when gunnery managed to bracket that lone gunship with a pair of withering shots. The little gunship’s shields flared and overloaded, and it went into some kind of uncontrolled spin.
We started to creep closer to the now dead gunship with the intention of finishing it off, when the little ship suddenly regained power and fired up its main engines. It was close and our gunners lobbed as many shots as they thought might have the remotest possibility of hitting the miniature ship, but in the end it managed to crawl out of our weapons envelope.
Giving up on that ship, we turned back to deal with ones that got around us. Surprisingly, while they pumped a few shots into the automated industry in this system, most notably the orbital factory stations, the gunships didn’t try to do any damage to the habitat or trading outpost.
Before we could get back there in time to do anything more than watch the planet’s orbital defense turret fire a few shots, the gunships streaked around our effective weapons range and back out into cold space. Clearly, they were heading away from the planet and its critical industry.
“I wonder why our friend Glue decided not to do more damage on his way through,” the First Officer asked in amazement.
The answer seemed obvious to me, so Tremblay was likely letting his bigoted bias against gene-mods affect his thinking. “Probably he hopes to come back and raid the system later. By damaging the factories, he makes sure they can’t build any new defenses in the meantime,” I said sourly.
Tremblay grimaced. “I should have seen that. Plus, I suppose a trained orbital workforce is worth more than whoever they’d be able to replace the men and women he killed with,” the lieutenant said shaking his head.
I wanted to order a pursuit, but for all I knew Primarch Glue was trying to draw us away from the orbital infrastructure so he could double back and go for a second try at the potential honey pot.
I gave the order to stay back and guard the fort, after which all I could do was sit and watch as the local System Defense Force shadowed the Pterodactyl until the pirate had recovered his little attack craft and jumped out of the system.
Frustrated and impotent, we hung around long enough to make sure the piratical Primarch had no immediate intentions of returning to the system. There wasn’t a whole lot we could do that the locals couldn’t, as far as repairing their lightly damaged factories. And just like that, it was time to jump to the next system on our list.
We’d been gone longer than intended due to all the emergency relief and repair efforts, so I decided to stay within the sector and double back, instead of running back along the same systems we’d just been through. I worked with the navigator to plot a course that would take us deeper into the sector and wave the flag in a few systems slightly behind the border.
The systems we encountered on our way back home were more slightly developed and generally had larger SDF contingents. Instead of the standard pair of system Corvettes, they had three or four Corvettes. Sometimes they even had a larger vessel such as a Destroyer, or an aged Medium Cruiser.
We only ran across one system that had been completely savaged by raiders, with the local defense force annihilated. Either captured or destroyed.
At first the locals thought we were part of the pirate fleet, returned to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. Apparently there was a small pirate fleet operating in the neighborhood with a pair of ships the locals thought matched the profile of our Battleship.
It took awhile to calm the locals down enough to get any sort of solid information. When we did, it was sketchy at best. The Pirates had come out of nowhere and invaded the system. The local SDF were knocked out and boarded, then the pirates had proceeded
to loot and plunder the orbital infrastructure. Only instead of simply destroying what they couldn’t take and promptly leaving, these pirates stayed here for two weeks, systematically stripping everything of value before taking off, the holds of their captured merchant ships filled to the brim with fifty years worth of hard labor it took the planet to build up from scratch. They’d even sent expeditions down to the surface to capture highly trained technical personnel.
As soon as the locals finally started to believe we were part of a legitimate Confederation Fleet, I was again treated to an angry tirade about my complete and utter failure as an Admiral and patrol force. With threats to contact their assemblyman still ringing in my ears, I headed out of my ready room and back on the bridge.
“Another frustrated local politician about to lose his job,” asked Tremblay playfully. He had gotten better at hiding his true meaning over the last few weeks, and I couldn't tell if he was sniping only myself, or if he included the planet's Governor, also.
I barked a laugh at this. “That about sums it up. Why does everyone I encounter seem to think I should have shown up within hours of the attacks?” I asked grimly. It was nice to finally put my frustration into words.
The First Officer looked surprised then raised his eyebrows. “I would suppose it's because they, like the rest of the civilized interstellar community, are used to a functioning com-stat network,” he said, as though it should be painfully obvious.
I slapped my hand to my forehead, only half mockingly.
“Before the Imperials self-destructed the sector communication network," Tremblay continued, "there were links between every world out here on the Rim and all throughout the sector. Between that and the roving Imperial Patrols,” he quirked a smile, “like we used to be, the local governors could send out an emergency distress call and be answered by an Imperial cruiser. Sometimes within hours, others it might take as much as a day. Regardless, the pirates knew it was a crapshoot, whether or not they could get in and get out before the Imperials had time to get here.”
Admiral's Gambit (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 23
