“They’re down to four of the little tykes. I’d say it's all over but the crying,” Tremblay said fiercely.
I gave him a fiery grin. Payback was going to be a real witch when we got done with these little parasite ships and could turn all our attention to the still fleeing merchantman.
One of the sensor operators bolted out of his chair. “The Pterodactyl is coming around!” he exclaimed, pointing at the main view screen for emphasis.
The Tactical Officer looked startled and immediately started barking at the gunnery deck through his microphone. “Gunnery, get your act together, Bandit One is coming about!” he yelled.
Then the Primarch's Corvette launched a storm of fire into our forward shields. A number of blasts punched through our weakened sections. Following that volley, the Pterodactyl belched a small swarm of missiles at close range.
“Where did all those come from,” wondered Tremblay looking concerned.
“Looks like external launch racks of some kind,” the Tactical Officer said, sounding harried.
“Splitting power evenly between the fore and aft shields,” the shield operator said, sweat standing out on his forehead.
At this point, the Helmsman rolled the Battleship to put our port broadside on the little pirate Corvette. It was painfully obvious just how poor our maneuverability was compared to these smaller, faster craft.
A storm of fire erupted from the Lucky Clover, and by the time the missile swarm had reached our shields, our aged Battleship's batteries had overwhelmed the little Corvette and knocked it out of the fight.
With the Pterodactyl a floating wreck, I turned my attention back to the fight in our rear just in time to see the pirate gunships were down to three and one of them was through our shields.
The two gunships outside our shields stopped firing simultaneously, although they continued to maintain a distance just outside of our rear shields. They moved in an evasive pattern but I didn’t have a lot of time to focus on them as the third gunship went ballistic and slammed into one of our secondary engines.
An explosion rocked the ship and damage control started shouting into his speaker.
“I’ve got a fire on deck five and reports of major damage to the stern of the ship,” said the damage control operator as he scurried to get teams dispatched to deal with the damage.
“One of our two secondary engines is not responding,” Helmsman DuPont reported.
“Can we still catch that merchantman,” I asked quickly.
“It's possible, but I doubt it,” the Helmsman cursed. “Everything would have to keep working at current levels and Engineering would have to get that fire under control to make sure the damage is limited to one secondary engine. Also, there's no guarantee that pushing the other two won’t somehow make things worse.” DuPont looked deeply unhappy with the situation, as did I, I imagine.
Even watching as a pair of turbo-batteries knocked out the two remaining, and curiously stationary gunships wasn’t enough to lift my mood.
The Pterodactyl had provided a serious distraction at a critical point in time and because of it, a gunship had removed our ability to chase down the second and final merchantman fleeing the system.
There was no point in chasing them, not if it meant further damage to our Dreadnaught class Battleship. The Lucky Clover was a tough old bird, but she’d just taken a few hard blows. We needed time to recover and get our bearings.
I was about to ask for an updated status report when I saw several escape pods jettisoning from the Corvette.
“Get me whoever’s in command of the Lancers and tell him to get ready to retrieve me a few prisoners,” I said with more of a snarl than I had intended. “I’m curious to know what was inside those two ships that is so important to these pirates that they were willing to sacrifice themselves to secure it.”
“Odd behavior. I’d almost say unheard of,” Lieutenant Tremblay cut in. “I hope Primarch Glue was on that Corvette and is one of the survivors. I’d dearly like to ask him a few questions.”
“As would I,” I agreed. Factories might be valuable, worth mega-credits even, but a pirate by his very definition had no ties to anything greater than himself. Why would Primarch Glue, or whoever was in command of that Pterodactyl, lay down their lives so a pair of merchants stuffed with factory equipment could make good their escape? Especially when one of the ships had already escaped.
Not to mention those kamikaze gunships. Normal people just didn’t crash their little ships into larger ships at high speeds. The survival rate for that kind of thing was almost nil.
Hopefully one or two of the pilots survived as well, so they could be questioned about why they’d do a thing like that. Some kind of suicide implants perhaps? Maybe the other pirates held their families hostage? There had to be a good explanation for this sort of odd behavior.
The first images of the captured ‘pirates’ were quite shocking when they came in. They also explained quite a bit that had been puzzling my command staff. Of course, in answering one question, we only opened up several more.
Fortunately, a boarding team had found an individual trapped inside the Pterodactyl that claimed to be Glue. Hopefully this Prisoner Glue was the same person as Patriarch Glue, the pirate that had caused us so much troubled over the past few weeks.
Either way, I was looking forward to the interrogation. From inside the safe confines of my power-armor, of course.
Chapter 22: Honing A Razor
Akantha was almost glad these star-river bandits, the ones the Caprian’s liked to call ‘pirates,’ had attacked this system.
She knew in her head that her Protector had obligations to this unappreciative rump-Confederation, whatever that was. He’d explained it to her, but honestly it was hard to differentiate the Empire from the Confederated Empire, or the Confederation or the rump-Confederation.
The weeks away from her Argos, knowing that the system her Protector’s people called Tracto had just been attacked in force, were taking their toll on her ability to think straight.
Everything inside her burned to return home and see with her own eyes that her people still lived. The Sky Demons (or Bugs) were fearsome foes and the certain knowledge that they wanted to eat every last one of her people along with all other living things on her world was galvanizing, but also sickening.
Where was the honor in such actions? But of course, she reminded herself, Sky Demons had no honor. That’s why they were called Demons.
Dressed inside her armor and accompanied by her honor guard, Akantha marched into Lancer territory.
As usual, Lancer Colonel Hansel Suffic was easy to find. He was always yelling about something, you just had to listen for the sound of his voice and follow it back to the source. He was an acceptable leader of men, she thought. He probably wouldn't last a month in Argos, though.
The Lancer Colonel stopped in the middle of his tirade. “Come to wish us a victorious journey,” he said, not sounding optimistic.
“In truth, I am eager to join your victorious journey,” Akantha said pointedly.
The Lancer Colonel closed his eyes and when he opened them he sighed. “I’m through arguing with you,” he said leveling a finger at her. “So go get that suit looked at by a technician before coming back for your shuttle assignment.”
“Make sure to assign me to whichever one will meet the enemy first,” she said with a cold smile.
“Be careful,” he warned, “eventually the Prince will get tired of you running off to get killed. He might replace me with someone more likely to reign in your notions.”
“He is welcome to try,” she said coolly. Then she tried for a gracious smile. “You’re the best Lancer on the ship.”
“I’m the only fully trained Lancer on the ship is what you mean,” he grumbled.
She continued on blithely as if she hadn‘t heard his last few words. “No one can replace you. Who else could teach my people and your other ‘trainees’ the skills needed to master their suits and
the fighting techniques taught among the stars,” she finished.
“I don’t have to be in command to train Lancers,” he said harshly. “The Admiral’s known for leading from the front when he sets his mind to it. I don’t know anything more likely to make a man do something foolish, like try to command both the ship and the Lancer contingent all at the same time, than having his wife running around boarding enemy ships.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared him down. “I will be part of the first wave,” she said evenly, leaving no room for further argument. She despised all of these words when action was called for. A significant failing in the culture of these 'Caprians,' she thought bitterly.
The Lancer Colonel’s mouth twisted. “As you say, Lady Akantha,” he bit out as evenly as he could.
“Indeed,” she said shortly.
The shuttle ride over to the crippled Corvette was just like the ride against the Hammerhead Cruisers. Uneventful, until the enemy started punching holes in the side of their little ship. But like every other assault she had witnessed here among the stars, there was no stopping them from reaching their quarry.
Once the shuttle was parked against the hull of the crippled ship, the tension of almost dying while they sat inside what could be their coffin faded away. In its place was an eagerness to come to grips with the enemy.
It was liberating to escape the confines of expectation. Even if only for a short while, she was no longer Akantha, Land Bride of Argos and Hold-Mistress of Messene. Instead, she was free just to be a warrior of her people and the Sword-Bearer of her fellow warriors' Warlord. She could make her own mark in this, the only available way.
Unfortunately, those warriors had their own ideas about what she could do, and her honor guard were among the worst. With so many warriors and very few enemies, everyone was burning to reach their quarry. Everyone, including her, but she was being held back by her own honor guard.
Naturally, she protested at their insistence that she wait on the shuttle, but she was outnumbered. And even in the heat before battle, she knew that she could not distract the other warriors from the task at hand. To do so was to endanger them unnecessarily, which is unacceptable to the people of Argos. Death is an accepted part of life, but unnecessary loss of life and resources is among the worst offenses imaginable.
Eventually, she relented and settled back to the simple boredom of watching a battle instead of participating in it.
When the enemy started to fight back in earnest and the long-talking devices started to malfunction, she couldn’t help a surge of hungry satisfaction. Maybe she’d get a chance at some of these enemies after all.
She did her duty, distasteful as it was, to sit there doing nothing but trying to make sense of fragments of conversation. She even tried to contact the Lucky Clover but there was no response to her hails. She suspected something was wrong and quickly bashed the long talker against the top of the table as she’d seen several of the star-born do.
Seeing one of the enemy board the shuttle, her heart quickened. She did her best to describe it, but then there wasn’t time for anything but combat.
She couldn’t suppress a thrill of excitement. If this one had slipped past her honor guard, there must be many more outside.
It had some kind of short but very wide vibro-blade. The weapon looked fittingly barbaric, since the creature definitely wasn’t human. Through the 'head bag' (she had learned the name of this device during her training aboard the Lucky Clover) it was wearing, she could see that it had a face that was mostly black surrounded by areas of very dark grey. It also seemed to have some kind of black hair-like fur. It must have been at least twice as broad as a man.
It also wasn’t wearing anything resembling power-armor. Instead, it had something that resembled nothing more than the familiar types of armor worn back on her home world. Interlocking metal plates and rings, fashioned to cover this beast's massive bulk composed the formidable suit of protection.
Leaping forward with Bandersnatch in her power-armored hands, the young Sword-Bearer delivered a punishing blow before the creature could react to her presence. The monster's weapon was extra thick and wide, so Bandersnatch only cut partway through the creature’s sword, but the strength of her servo-assisted arms was enough to push the creature back onto its heels.
Then they were clinched. Straining to force her blade into the creature, she grunted in unison with the whining of the power-armor servos. Slowly but steadily, she forced Bandersnatch towards the creature.
Realizing its doom, the demonic looking thing pulled out some kind of crystal bladed dagger and tried to stab her in the head with a series of strikes that came far more quickly than she had anticipated. It didn’t try to run or break free, instead it targeted her visor, causing it to crack and scar under the force of its blows. Then finally, her Bandersnatch pressed against its armor and with the high-pitched squeal of tortured metal, the vibro-blade cut through the demon's armor and forced its way into its vitals.
Looking down at the fallen creature, she was surprised at the look of resignation on its face as it lay gasping on the floor, blood leaking out of its body.
The thing might look like some kind of demon, but it was strong enough to fight Akantha in power-armor, and at no point had it displayed any of the ravening characteristics of other demons, either the ones out of legend or the Sky Demons who had taken her from her home.
She spoke her findings through the long talker, and then with a grin she turned to go join the storming of the ship. If the creatures were numerous and bold enough to reach the ‘shuttles,’ then every blade was needed. The arguments that she was endangering the lives of others, or depriving them of their chance at glory no longer applied.
She forced her way through the two stage airlock, and was out on the hull of the ship. A number of bodies floated or twitched around the entrance to the shuttle, their spasms accompanied by the release of blood from their wounds, which froze almost instantly in the impossible cold. However, not all the fallen were from the people who currently held the Corvette, she noticed grimly.
With a yell, she moved as quickly as was prudent on the hull of a star-ship and made to join her people in stemming the tide of these new demons.
She noticed with satisfaction that the gateway into the enemy vessel (called an 'Air Lock,' as she had learned in her studies) appeared to have been ruined by a massive explosion of some kind. Her warriors must have used one of their magical explosives to force the door, in much the same way her guard had opened the door to Jason Montagne's room. She grinned savagely and continued toward the battle.
There were a few demons fighting around the portal, obviously attempting to stop her warband from gaining entry. They would soon fail in their duty, she promised silently.
An occasional flash of a plasma or blaster rifle indicated the demons were equipped with more than just those unwieldy swords of theirs, but much like her own people, they preferred the sword.
Her blade flashed out at the nearest monster, but it parried the strike with its rifle, causing the weapon to be sundered and rendered useless. It quickly drew its blade and leapt toward her with its weapon raised over its head impossibly quickly. It obviously intended to cleave her in two.
She blocked the downward blow effectively, but her back foot lost purchase on the hull for a moment, causing her to adjust her stance and quickly parry the following attack from the demon rather than launching an attack of her own.
This was the type of battle that could be told in the shield hall without much tiresome explanation or irksome hyperbole! With a mighty overhand blow of her own, she knocked aside the enemy sword and sank Bandersnatch into the vitals of the foul creature. Pulling the blade free, she lurched as her side was struck by the blade of another demon.
The hiss of escaping air gave testament to the strength of these creatures and their weapons. Things were about to get interesting, she thought.
Chapter 23: The Interrogation
I was int
erested in interrogating this Glue. Very interested. Not to say I thought I could get anything out of the man, at least not anything of real value. I wasn’t a trained interrogator after all but Tremblay at least knew the basics, having been trained in intelligence. With the remains of the old security department offloaded in Easy Haven, he was the only one with any experience.
Oh, there were more than a few natives who might be interested in turning their hands to the task. Uncivilized bunch that they were, there was little I’d put past them.
So we had a medical team and the First Officer standing by in case, as was highly likely, this Glue refused to see reason. There was no need for hot pokers or whatever thoughts lurked in the brains of the native Tracto-an compliment.
Akantha was also off the ship still, I thought darkly. So there was no one on the ship to stop me from meeting this gene-enhanced individual. Out of consideration for my concerned command staff, I went to the interrogation room dressed in power-armor.
The verbal descriptions of Primarch Glue didn’t do him justice. I took one step into the interrogation room and stopped dead in my tracks.
Glue looked at me from his position seated in a reinforced chair, normally intended for a man wearing power-armor.
“Don’t look so surprised, base-stock,” the Primarch rumbled in an impossibly deep, gravelly voice. His mouth fell open, exposing his tongue in what I presumed was some sort of smile.
This…I suppose I still had to consider him a man and not a creature, unless I wanted to give the lie to all my talk of tolerance and understanding for gene-mods.
Anyway, this ‘man’ sat in his chair. He was covered with fur and must weigh almost as much as a man in power armor. Calling him a man was misleading, though. Glue was no simple gene-enhanced member of humanity.
Like everyone else, I’d heard the rumors of experiments performed by the AI’s before the end of the AI wars. Along with the majority of individuals on my planet, I’d dismissed many of those rumors as most likely false.
Admiral's Gambit (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 26
