Verrikoth paused for a moment, looked to his datapad and began sketching out further plans for dealing with a Republic task force, for when they come to Argos. Because they would be, he had no doubt. He only hoped he’d have enough time to prepare.
((--[][]--))
An alert sounded and an orange indicator flashed urgently. Yokusk activated the display, which showed two cruisers on the long-range vector, moving in toward the station at high speed. Only a few moments later, the comm system received the message, and he quickly brought it up.
The visage of Lord Verrikoth appeared and the Primary gave an audible sigh as a great weight melted from his mind. That thought was immediately darkened by the thoughts of what transpired here in recent days. Well, on the face of it, things were looking up. A new ship had been impressed into the fleet. In addition, they’d dumped the data cores of all three ships, and while most of that information to be found there was worthless, there had to be something of value in there. Yokusk already had search algorithms combing through all of it; he remained hopeful he’d have something real to show for this debacle.
“Primary, thiss iz the Warlord. Nemessiss and Gawilghur have arrived in ssysstem and are moving at high sspeed in your direction. Report your sstatss, including all actionz against pirate forcez and all damage ssusstained. Verrikoth out.” And the message display blanked out.
He breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t pause more than a few seconds. The Warlord would not brook any delays, especially in getting those reports. Seeing as the station was relatively intact, the defense ships were on their way back, and no imminent threats loomed, Verrikoth would expect Yokusk to have status reports updated and ready. Thankfully he did.
((--[][]--))
Verrikoth read over the reports and hissed in annoyance. Both defense ships damaged, the Kopesh out of action completely until repairs could be affected, with the Gr’kenth needing some work herself. At least Yokusk had restrained the two ship captains, pulling them back before they managed to grind themselves up against those pirate vessels. Not that the pirate vessels should have been able to grind up two ships of superior firepower. Apparently, a complete review of all security and defensive assets was in order here. Two ships clearly were not enough here, but then, he knew he had insufficient ships and crews throughout his territories. It was a problem that needed addressing. He’d be interested to see if Yokusk had put forth any mental effort toward the problem.
He was interested in the data dumps. Perhaps the Primary managed to pull some valuable intel from this mess. He’d want his own analysts on Nemesis to go through it along with Yokusk’s own people on the station, but who knew what gems could be mined from that?
Then there was the light freighter taken from the so-called Committee of Public Safety. Should it be upgraded further and added to system defense, or restored and used for local trade runs (low mass, high-value cargoes)? He would decide that later.
Workforce, as always, was a problem. When Verrikoth began his thrust at the Republic forces here in Argos, he’d had three fully armed and crewed light cruisers, with over four hundred souls on each, supported by a corvette holding sixty. After the brutal fighting in Byra-Kae, as well as the skirmish in Ulla-tran, only Ganges survived. A great number of trained personnel were lost. Almost nine hundred of them gone. A recruitment drive was underway but replacing that many people from the populations out here in Argos would be a chore. As it was, all his current cruisers were under crewed, to bring Gawilghur and Karimnagar up to acceptable levels. Nemesis was operating with two-thirds full crew levels, the absolute lowest he would allow his flagship to go.
He leaned back slightly in his seat in his stateroom and dug back into the reports. In a few hours, he could get a personal report directly from the Primary.
((--[][]--))
Verrikoth stepped out of the shuttle from Nemesis and onto the metal deck of Hyperidon Station. His antennae twitched as the stench of humans mixed with degreaser, hydraulic fluid, and antiseptic cleanser assaulted his senses. He carried on, undaunted. Commander Tyler brought up the issue about personal security, but he’d rejected the idea. Oh, he had a trio of Armsmen that were directly responsible for that security, but due to staffing concerns, they’d been transferred to Ganges, Gawilghur, and Karimnagar to make sure things went smoothly there. Even if they’d not been reassigned, Verrikoth refused to use them in close protection on worlds under his domain. He was a warlord, which was a dangerous job, which warranted guards since not everyone would be pleased with his rule. He was no fool. Two of his zheen, both males, followed along after but kept a discrete distance and within easy sight of their principle.
Not for the first time, Verrikoth lamented the lack of any worker and warrior drones among his forces, the ysh’kai and drei’kai, respectively. Both were asexual creatures in the zheen race, bred for their specific purposes; to serve the virile males and their Xai’ryn, or broodmothers as the humans so crassly identified them. Both were specialist castes under the same genus genetically engineered to perform their specific tasks and do them well. There were precious few females here in the Argos Cluster and so far, none of them had allowed Verrikoth to catch their eye stalk, much to his great frustration. This alone had prompted his rise to power, to rally other disaffected males to his banner. At first, it was trying to curry favor among one or any of the Xai’ryn, but as time passed it became more about garnering power out of spite. Eventually, it became about building something that would endure, to make sure his name and power would be remembered.
He shook his head irritably, clearing such thoughts from his mind. He walked briskly through the station, heading to the Primary’s private office; all doors opening for him due to his universal access on his wrist comm. In less than twenty minutes he arrived at the compartment, buried deep within the ramshackle station.
Raising his left arm and his wrist comm, he keyed the lock and the heavy metal door slowly cycled open. Without a word or introduction, the Warlord stepped over the threshold and into the office. While some might have considered this rude, simply barging in, no one was foolish enough to question his right to do so.
The office was not typical of what one would expect from something bearing the name. Instead of a desk or table or even any chairs, this room was a web of cables which hung from the ceiling, snaked across the deck and connected into a number of computer components. Additional cables connected all of it to a cylinder over to the side of the compartment. The cylinder was made mostly of metal, but the top third was constructed from a transparent plastic. As Verrikoth drew closer, he could see through the plastic; inside was damaged and preserved remnants of what once might charitably be called a humanoid body. The race of the creature was nearly impossible to determine, but closer inspection showed a number of cables running directly into the fleshy head. A head which was devoid of eyes or a jaw and a breathing tube was inserted directly into the throat. A longer look confirmed it: the creature in that cylinder was a zheen, one who was so damaged by physical trauma that his carapace on his head and shoulders was gone, leaving only tender flesh beneath. Verrikoth buzzed in disgust at the sight and turned to the conglomeration of devices.
As he did so, a display immediately popped to life. The image of his banner appeared, flapping in the digital breeze. “My Lord. Welcome to Hyperidon Station.”
Verrikoth hissed. “You uze the flag for your image?” he demanded.
“Yes, my Lord,” Yokusk said, his voice sounding confused through the speakers. “It is the banner of the station, of your worlds.”
Verrikoth considered his words, trying to find some fault with that and failed to do so. “You are not a flag, Primary.”
“No, my Lord. I am not,” the voice agreed. “But I am your designated official here in this star system. Since my own body is too ravaged for me to be a proper face for the public, I chose the flag. Also, by using the flag, it projects an air of mystery. All people hear is a voice over the comm channel.”
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p; “I had not conssidered that,” Verrikoth admitted. His tone grew cold. “When you sspeak with me, however, do not sshow me the flag. You will sshow your true face to me.” He paused for a long moment. “Sstarting now.”
“But my Lord…”
“Now!” the Warlord barked. The display blanked and then reactivated, showing a digital image of the ravaged face with cables in the head, the missing eyes, and the breathing tube. The Warlord had to force himself not to recoil from the image and managed to retain his composure. “Better. Now I have gone over the reportss you ssent and I am pleazed you managed to keep the mayhem to the minimum. I also undersstand I have a new sship in my fleet.”
He seemed thrown by the shift in the conversation but Yokusk recovered quickly, his confidence showing through. “Er… yes, my Lord. And armed light freighter, the Dreyvis. I have techs going over the ship now.”
“Why?”
“The ship was engaged in combat before arriving here and had suffered damage. The original crew had made the essential repairs, but my techs are going over the ship and dealing with the things the original crew missed.” The Primary sighed. “There are quite a few things.”
“How long until the sship is ready?” Verrikoth asked, genuinely interested.
“Well,” the Primary hedged, consulting another screen, “They could button everything up and send the ship out now, but the wrench turners say they have a maintenance list as long as this room. But it will get the crew where it needs to go and back again.”
Verrikoth considered this for a moment. “Ssend a copy of the maintenance list to me.” His datapad beeped but he didn’t activate it. “What of Kopesh and Gr’kenth?”
Yokusk let out a grumble. “The damage to both ships is considerable. The ships from the Argos Liberation Front proved more formidable than expected.”
Verrikoth chittered in irritation. “I want copiez of the engineering reportss ssent to Nemessiss now. And call the captainz of both sshipss here to the sstation. I want to meet with them.”
“To this compartment, my Lord?” the Primary’s voice sounded as though he might hyperventilate if his breathing wasn’t externally regulated.
“A conference room will do,” the Warlord told him. “I have no time or interesst in hand-holding. And ssend those reportss to my data pad az well.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Make ssure you are in attendance,” Verrikoth stated as he walked out of the compartment, the door clanking shut behind him. There was more to talk about, specifically the construction projects on the station, budget, fuel production, and security. He would handle that later, however. Right now, he wanted the security situation with the two defense ships taken care of before he addressed any other issues.
((--[][]--))
“I undersstand both of the defensse warshipss ssuffered extenssive damage in the recent engagement,” Verrikoth said bluntly, an hour later. The hak’ruk and zheen male simply stared back at him, doing their best to show a unified front against the Warlord’s scorn and disdain. “Explain to me how thiss iz possible. Two szhipss of greater ssize and firepower are nearly taken down by twos smaller warshipss of inferior dezign and a light freighter with one cannon!”
“My Lord,” the zheen Kipris started to say, but Verrikoth continued on in an implacable tone, not giving him the time to make his explanation.
“You were the pursuerz!” he raged. “There waz no ambush. They pozessed no sspecial weaponz. Just a frigate and two damaged prizez!” He was radiating contempt and hissing intently. “You did manage to dissable the cutter and damage the other two,” Verrikoth admitted, grudgingly, calming his tone a bit. “Thiss waz a pathetic display. I am going to allow you the opportunity to correct this misstake.”
Both officers showed signs of unease. “How, my Lord?” Flayl finally asked when the silence grew unbearable.
Verrikoth did not answer directly. “Sspecialist teamz are going to the destroyer and the corvette from Nemessiss az we sspeak, bringing with them all the partss az can be sspared to bring your sshipss back up to fighting form. Thiss iz in addition to your own engineerz az well az thoze from Hyperidon sstation. We will get these sshipss repaired and resstocked in record time. You two, however, along with many of your crew and officerz will be doing other thingz.”
Again Kipris spoke, unable to help himself, but this time, Flayl made no move to try and talk. “What… what will we be doing, my Lord?”
“You, as well as your crews not working on repairing your vessels, will be training,” Verrikoth informed them. “You will be doing simulationz. Lotss of them. The mosst brutal I and my own tactical people can dream up. You will not ssurvive sseveral of them, possibly mosst of them.” The Warlord paused for a moment to let them think about things. “I have sseen what passez for a training regimen here. One ssim a week? No longer. Sshipss and captainz in my fleet will be well-trained and disciplined. Thoze who cannot rize to thoze sstandardz will be disposed of.”
“This was the first real combat engagement that has ever been fought in this system, my Lord,” Flayl protested, unable to keep silent, her spine regaining some stiffness.
Verrikoth’s antennae twitched. “Yess, and I am also informed of the maintenance issuez that cropped up on both vesselz.” He paused. “I work on a sship myself and have for decadez. I am well aware that thingz break, componentss and ssoftware need fixing, patchez, maintenance and replacementss in the course of normal operationz. But what you both allowed your sshipss to degrade to…” His mandibles clacked loudly. “Well, thiss iz your chance to sshow me your leadership sskillz. Or I will find new captainz for those sshipss.” He let that sink in. “Report back to your vesselz and coordinate with your engineerz. We will be sstarting the combat ssimz in three hours. Brief your bridge crewz and also, I would advize you to prepare yourselvez mentally.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Go.”
Verrikoth watched them both leave the conference room and found his attention focusing on the far bulkhead. His compound eyes could see most of the room without any sort of effort, but he was staring at that section, his mind not really recognizing it for long moments. Was it smart to leave those two in command? It isn’t as though I have a lot of viable candidates for a replacement right now. But he’d meant what he’d said about getting rid of them as necessary. For now, though, the two officers had performed passably at their jobs. They’d managed to get some hits on the Front vessels and drive them off. The fact that they’d managed to bring their ships back in one piece was a sign that they had some skill. He was in a merciful mood, considering the state of things here when he’d arrived.
Kopesh and Gr’kenth would be essential to the next stage of Verrikoth’s plan, assuming the information he needed could be discovered. Yokusk had done well to secure the information in the ships’ data cores. Most of it would be uninteresting, he was sure, but the techs were still combing through all of it, looking for intel.
He went into the tactical database and started pulling up simulations. Verrikoth chittered to himself at a few of the ones he selected. Pitting the two ships against inferior opponents first would allow him to gauge their skills properly. Oh, he had a baseline already with the recent battle data, but he wanted to see them work first hand.
He had plans for those ships if what he hoped was hidden amongst the mountain of data captured from the pirate gangs. And if it wasn’t; if the pirates showed more concern for operational security than he expected, it wouldn’t be a loss. His ships, since he had just now decided to have Gawilghur and Nemesis join in on the sim work, would get some desperately-needed training and experience.
((--[][]--))
“My Lord,” Tyler’s voice came over the comm circuit several hours later. Verrikoth was just wrapping up the first sim – Kopesh and Gr’kenth against a pair of corvettes fighting near a gas giant. Lucky for his new charges, they’d managed an easy victory. He’d be increasing the challenge next time.
“What iz it, Commander?”
�
��The techs have something I believe you will find interesting,” the flag commander went on, pleased he could bring good news to the Warlord.
“Yess?”
“In the databases for both the Committee of Public Safety and the Baron Death, they uncovered the coordinates for their bases of operations.” His eyes shone. “It actually took some doing.”
“How sso?” the zheen asked, intrigued.
Tyler actually looked impressed at the techs’ work. “The data recovered didn’t actually show a base. Sadly, both groups were smart enough not simply to have a file marked 'secret base.' One of the techs got clever and dug into the navigation records. By going over their last known hyperspace tracks, we managed to find the greatest probability for each group’s bases. The tech plotted their previous courses, noted how many times they each went back to various star systems and calculated which had the most hits.”
“Sso you don’t, in fact, have base coordinatess?” Verrikoth asked, his voice flat.
Tyler took a long breath, slowly frowning. “Not an exact fix, no my Lord. Forgive my earlier zeal. The groups apparently had enough in the way of operational security to keep that information hidden, though I believe that we have parsed it out.”
“You are confident?” Verrikoth asked, sitting back in his chair slightly to watch Tyler more closely.
He gave the man credit for not just sounding off. Tyler had served with Verrikoth for more than five years now, and he’d earned the right to serve as Flag Commander. He actually considered it for a long moment before he answered. “Yes, my Lord, but I believe we have a very good chance that we have them.”
“I ssee.” Verrikoth thought for a moment longer, shifting in his seat. “Send me the data.” An instant later, the display flooded with data, showing what looked like golden threads strung through space. The threads were moving through what he quickly recognized as the eastern central section of the Argos Cluster, moving through the southern/bottom section of his domain, ending with some few threads coming up to the top of his domain, ending at Amethyst.
The Warlord's Path: Samair in Argos: Book 6 Page 7
