by Ava D. Dohn
* * *
Salak did not give up on the Shikkeron after the dry-dock carrier had been destroyed. The third fleet’s fighters and heavies kept him busy for awhile, but when opportunity afforded, his brig and two remaining cutters slipped away in pursuit of his prey.
“Major! Three bogies abaft and closing!”
Ardon was at a total loss as to what to do. Looking at Jebbson, desperation growing in his voice, he quietly asked, “Now what?”
“What was your plan before we were interrupted?” Jebbson nonchalantly inquired.
“I was making for one of the Nebulan Cloud Bank’s tributaries.” Ardon stated, adding, “It’s about half an hour from here at our current speed.”
“Maybe you should find out when the bogies will reach us, then.” Jebbson suggested all so casually.
When asked, the navigation officer reported, “At their current speed, we have fifteen minutes before they are in torpedo range.” She added, “One of those ships is making distance on the other two. It will be within missile range sooner…maybe twelve minutes.”
Ardon looked dismayed. Jebbson expressed a grim smile. “Well, Captain, it looks like we have few choices. We can’t go faster, and the fleet’s too far away by now to help. We’ll have to solve our own dilemma this time.”
“They want the colonel.” Ardon replied. “So I think they will seek our capture. That means we might have a chance if we force them to attempt a boarding.” He thought a moment longer. “And if that fails, we can set off that thermo-whatever torpedo, and take everything out.”
Jebbson’s voice filled with excitement. “You still have a working torpedo on this ship?!”
The communications officer interrupted. “Captain, the lead ship chasing us is hailing us by name!”
Whatever Ardon meant to say did not come out as intended, he shouting instead, “Put it on the overhead!”
The remainder of the radio interchange between the two ships was heard throughout the Shikkeron.
The message began, “Shikkeron, this is General Salak. You have no hope of escape. Surrender and I will preserve you alive.”
Ardon blurted out, “Who can trust the killer of prophets and purveyor of evil?”
A voice filled with pleasant surprise replied, “Ardon, my brother, since when have you been chancellor of a warship? Are Bedan and all his little warriors so busy that they have placed you on the bridge? And what of the little ‘bitch-girl’? I thought she out-ranked you. Or did you commandeer a mutiny of sorts?”
Ardon’s lips quivered with anger and uncertainty as he boldly replied, “The Therioskotia sleeps for the moment, saving her strength for your meeting. Your doom awaits you should you attempt our capture.”
Silence broke into loud, boastful laughter. “Do you think me afraid of wild myths of fantasy told by shrunken minds in hidden caves? Save your threats for the Stasis fools who worship their own excrement! Surrender now, brother, or die!”
Jebbson leaned close to Ardon’s ear. “Why does he keep calling you ‘brother’?”
Ardon nodded and whispered back, “True, we are all siblings. But Salak is my twin, me being firstborn. His jealousy over my supposed favors as the older one grew into hatred after the Rebellion. We have not spoken since Asotos attempted to murder me outside the palace wall over five millennia ago.”
Jebbson shook his head and muttered, “Family feud...”
Salak interrupted. “What has happened? Has the tongue of the windy one ceased to function? Surrender now or experience the fate of Exothepobole.”
Ardon’s head snapped around. “Exothepobole!? You!?”
Salak laughed. “Didn’t you get my note? I left it with your girl friend. What’s her name? Oh, yes, of course…Tashi. She was quite fun to be with, you know. The girl makes a lot of noise when you’re working her right.”
Ardon’s face flushed red with rage. “You bastard! Rot-ten e-vil slime of a bas-tard!”
Before he could make further reply, Jebbson’s hand flew out to Ardon’s arm, gripping it tight. He warned, whispering, “No! That’s what he wants from you! Anger will not bring back the dead nor undo the pain your girl suffered. You’re captain of this ship and your first responsibility is to your crew. Damn your own feelings!”
Tears streamed down Ardon’s face as he listened to Jebbson and calmed himself. Finally, in dismay, he asked, “What should I do, Major? What should I do?! All we have left is the bow torpedo Colonel Adaya planned to destroy the carrier with. That and a few defense batteries are all that’s left.”
Jebbson looked down at the floor in thought. Eventually, he asked, “What kind of a torpedo did you say we have?”
Ardon answered, “A thermo… thermo…”
“A thermonuclear static torpedo, Sir.” The navigation officer interjected. “And we do have a working delivery system in the bow torpedo room.”
Jebbson lifted an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you guys pack that kind of hardware on these things! You can punch a pretty big hole in something with that!”
Ardon agreed. “The colonel said it would take out anything within two leagues of impact.”
Nodding, Jebbson said to himself, “Six miles, huh? We wouldn’t even have to get close...”
He suggested Ardon ask the torpedo room about its status and condition. The news wasn’t encouraging. When Darla ordered mechanical overrides, the automatic systems were shut down. It would take twenty minutes to reactivate them. The torpedo was armed to detonate only on contact with another object. After firing it, the torpedo room would have to control its course and speed, and that from a close range.
Ardon’s heart sank. For a brief second there had been a glimmer of hope, but now he let out a resigned sigh. “Well, we could use it to blow up the Shikkeron.”
Jebbson questioned him. “Are you willing to do that?”
Ardon nodded. “Yes, if I have to - to keep Adaya out of Salak’s hands.”
Just then, Salak’s voice came in on the overhead. He was angry, spewing out more threats, telling them to surrender.
Jebbson grinned. “How’s about we take out that loud mouth when we do it?”
Surprised, Ardon asked if that were possible. Jebbson grinned and whispered to Ardon what he had in mind. Ardon listened carefully and, when Jebbson finished, excitedly responded, “We’ll do it! We’ll do it!”
Ardon stood rigid, his face taking on a look of solid determination as his knuckles whitened from squeezing the captain’s rail. He called to the crew, “This is your captain speaking! We have escaped many dangers today. Already, several of our companions have paid the supreme price for our freedom. Still, I ask you one more time to make a sacrifice. The power rests in our hands to bring to justice the Butcher of Exothepobole. Shall we allow his escape or avenge our fallen comrades?”
The resounding clamor gave convincing proof that the Shikkeron’s crew was willing to risk all to exact a toll upon the murderer of their brothers and sisters. Ardon shouted, “Bring us round! We have unfinished business!”
