The Warlord's Path: Samair in Argos: Book 6

by Michael Kotcher

  She looked worried. “Do I need to be worried?”

  “Of coursse not. If you obey.” With that, he pressed the control and popped the hatch, stepping inside. With his left hand, he activated his own breather around his neck.

  When they stepped inside the hatch, the female zheen looked over to the newcomers and chittered at the Warlord in greeting. He returned her greeting and gestured to his guest. “Xai’ryn, thiss iz Governor Palless of Caridossia. Governor, the Xai’ryn,” he said simply.

  Governor Palles, awed by the massive creature before her, bowed low. “I am honored to meet you, my Lady.”

  The Xai’ryn stared at her haughtily in silence for a long moment. “I greet you, Governor Palles. I have watched the video feeds of the Warlord touring your facilities. You have an impressive realm.”

  “Th-thank you, my Lady,” the woman replied, straightening and recovering from the shock of seeing the broodmother. “I have good people, and they work hard.”

  “That is, of course, important,” the Xai’ryn acknowledged. “But good, hardworking people need guidance. Without yours, this place would be far poorer.”

  The woman flushed with pride. “Thank you. It’s hard, keeping everyone moving in the right direction, but I can’t think of a more worthwhile occupation.”

  The two zheen shared a look, unnoticed by the guest. The topics of conversation shifted then. “On that note, I think it would benefit all of uss if more cargo sshipss could start to increasse trade not only among the Quartet but with the ssysstemz of Amethysst and Tysseuss.”

  “New markets?” Palles said, nodding. “I can absolutely get on board with that. But shipping is the problem. The only ship we have in the system is the Salvadora and as I’m sure you know, my Lord, that is no cargo ship.”

  The Warlord buzzed. “My own sshipping iz not az pervassive az I would like,” he admitted. “It iz ssomething that will have to be looked into. But if I can get sshipss to sstart coming here, can you find goodz to ssell?”

  She chuckled. “Easily, my Lord. We’ve been working to get new goods into the markets in Reeshee, but they’re the only system that can really handle the amount of trade that we need. Doldrums and Vybex are agricultural worlds, so while their need for Caridosian goods is high, their capacity is low. They have very low populations, compared to ours or Reeshee, and we do good business, but there’s only so much their markets can take.”

  “Understandable,” the Xai’ryn replied. “We will look into shipping if you can get the goods to be sold.” The conversation continued, speaking about retooling those factories to make machinery and tools that the two spacefaring star systems would want and could use. They also discussed the purchase of some three to five thousand of the Caridosian assault rifles.

  Two hours later, the shuttle brought Governor Palles back down to the planet and Verrikoth and the Xai’ryn discussed their burgeoning plans for this system and what they could expect in the next one.

  ((--[][]--))

  Jensen Tyler looked over the reports from his section heads, which came with mixed reactions to the recruits. Most of them had some skills, some ability to work with machinery or computers, or at the very least an eagerness to learn. However, many of them did not truly understand what was entailed to serve in space, in a metal can for weeks or months at a time. They were used to living planetside, and some had trouble coping with the confined spaces of the ships. Tyler had allowed his officers and senior leaders to institute some brutal disciplinary measures, to get the new personnel calmed and in line.

  “It seems to be working for now, Captain,” one of the senior watch standers reported. “More than a few fights have broken out, and a lot of bumps and bruises, but no fatalities. Only about a dozen are in sickbay.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. Make sure everyone understands I’m not happy with all the fighting. If it continues, then in very short order, our airlocks will be getting a lot of use, and I’m not just speaking to the recruits.” When the senior watch stander looked shocked, Tyler glared at him. “Don’t think I don’t know about all the scores that have been getting settled all over the ship, Senior. I want it stopped. Today. This hour. Get it out of your systems, because the next time I hear about anything like this happening, I will start killing the perpetrators. Am I clear, Senior?” His tone was sharp and harsh, but he didn’t raise his voice.

  The senior enlisted looked grumpy, but he nodded. “Understood, Commander.”

  “Make sure everyone belowdecks understands, Senior,” Tyler told him sternly. His hand lowered to his sidearm, but he didn’t draw it, but the watch stander saw what his commander was threatening. “If more fights start, who do you think I will blame?”

  Now the man gulped. “You will be looking to me, sir.” He clasped his hand together, rubbing them. “I’ll get it done, Commander.”

  “Make extra sure, Senior. Now get moving. One hour.” The man fled. A moment later, the hatch to his ready room slid open, and the Warlord stepped in. “Ah, my Lord. We have everything we need aboard, and I’ve got those ten crates of rifles and the twenty of the local ammunition stowed in cargo bay 2.”

  “Very good, Commander,” the zheen said, approving. “I trusst that the dissciplinary issuez aboard my flagsship sshould be dealt with ssoon?”

  “I believe so, my Lord. Within the hour.” He shrugged. “If not, then there will be a bit of a tussle aboard ship, and then things will be orderly again. I have War Leader Seju ready to move, already moving some of his troops to key points within the ship.”

  Verrikoth clicked his mandibles once. “Very well. Let uss get to the bridge, then, and get uss moving to Reesshee.”

  Tyler smiled. “I look forward to it, my Lord. I want to see what the Red Sphinx people can do with a shipyard.” He frowned, pursing his lips. “My Lord, it occurs to me that while we do need warships, perhaps it might be in our interests to see that this yard builds a cargo freighter or two. And maybe even a troop transport or some sort of passenger carrier to ferry recruits from Caridosia to Tyseus or even to Reeshee.”

  Verrikoth nodded. “An excellent idea, Commander. One that we will bring to the local governor once we arrive.” With that, both males stepped out of the ready room and onto the heavy cruiser’s bridge.

  Chapter 10

  “This is Commander Hestian of the cruiser Ganges to all pirate forces. Surrender and I will spare your lives. Fight, and you will die. You have ten minutes to make your decision. Hestian out.” He pressed a button on the arm of his command seat, ending the call. “Sensors, confirm what I’m seeing here.”

  “Yes, Commander,” the zheen sensor operator replied. “Two cutters, two medium freighters, one tractor, and a bulk hauler. Oh, there’s also a frigate coming out from behind that large asteroid. They all seem to be clustered around that one big asteroid there at the edge of the field.”

  Hestian nodded to himself. “Keep an eye out for any gun emplacements or missile launchers. Comms, hail the Strike flotilla.” A moment later, the human at comms nodded. “All ships. Fan out and attack. Make sure none of those freighters get away.” He thought for a moment. It would take his ships more than forty minutes to get into position, so moving to attack positions now would still leave enough time for Baron Death’s forces to surrender. He didn’t expect them to, no he expected some to fight and the rest to cowardly try and slink away.

  Sure enough, he was not disappointed. Two minutes later, a message came in from the frigate. A Geckon stared back, with scars across his scaly face, but his needle-like teeth were just as fearsome as was expected. “This is the Baron. You, lackey of the bug Verrikoth, come here to my system and expect just to roll up my forces? I will put the fear of Death in you!” he shrieked and cut the connection.

  “Spirited, isn’t he?” Hestian said to no one in particular. He bared his teeth in a snarl. He pressed a control again. “All ships, this is Commander Hestian. Make sure your ships are at full combat readiness. Kenso’rai, break off and make for the
three smaller freighters. Keep them corralled and do not let them escape.”

  He received an acknowledgment from all ships, then looked to his helmsman. “All right, Pulo, take us in.”

  Quintus Maren, the human at the helm, nodded and worked the controls on his console. Watching his display, Hestian watched as his ships spread out, and the Ganges raced forward, the rest of the flotilla moving to keep up. Hestian nodded in satisfaction but didn’t allow himself to get too overwhelmed by the ship-handling. He’d been concerned about giving up assistant helm officers from his ship, as well as from the shipyard to pilot the corvettes that were built. There was nothing for it, though, not if he wanted to have the additional ships for both system defense in Tyseus and his strike flotilla.

  “Cutters are coming up to hit Gr’kenth on the port side, Commander,” the sensor officer, another lupusan male named Groth, called out. “Gr’kenth is moving to evade.”

  As he watched, the corvette exchanged fire with both of the smaller, nimbler vessels and then all of the broke off. The nearest corvette, Xekxik, turned to engage, passing her sister ship and peppering one of the cutters. Gr’kenth dove down and looped back around, as did both of the cutters, all four ships dancing around one another, popping off shots the instant any of them moved into range.

  “Move us to the asteroid base,” Hestian ordered. “The other ships are to work on getting rid of the rest of the defenses and ships.” He turned to his tactical officer. “Weapons, target the base and open fire as soon as we’re in range.”

  “I’m not showing any energy shields, Commander,” Groth piped up.

  Hestian nodded. “Excellent. That will make things easier. And when that frigate decides it doesn’t like us smashing its home base, turn our guns on them.”

  The wolf at tactical nodded, an evil smile on his face.

  ((--[][]--))

  The Smash Pack, the trio of Secaaran warriors, watched the displays in the troop barracks aboard Ganges as the light cruiser started to fire on the asteroid base. Stryx crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Sure would be good to get down to that base and get to work,” he lamented. Boarding actions, even on ships owned by the Lord Verrikoth, were rare. No, most of the time, they would only see any action if the Warlord sent troops down to a planet, or a space station.

  “Not going to happen,” Dragga retorted. She pointed one stony finger at the display. “Look at that! Commander is bombarding the rock base. Not going to be anything for us to hit.”

  “Should find something else to hit then,” Cromm grumbled.

  “Like what?” Dragga demanded, whirling on her sibling, striking him with her open palm on his chest. The big Secaaran rocked back a bit but was undaunted by the hit.

  “Like that,” Stryx said, pointing. The others followed to where he was pointing, and then they smiled. “Might be better if we can do it without getting any of the other troops aboard the ship hurt. And the Commander wouldn’t be happy if a shuttle got shot up trying to fly over it there.”

  Dragga nodded, her grin widening. “Wonder what it would take to get over there without a shuttle?”

  Cromm shrugged. “I’ll ask.”

  ((--[][]--))

  War Leader Vok was trying to rest in his bunk. The battle was raging around them, but he and the rest of the boarding parties on Ganges as well as the other ships were not needed. If things started to go badly, he and the others might get called to damage control stations, but it seemed unlikely that would happen. No, he’d get to sit out the battle, bored, and then perhaps get used in a prize crew to deal with the former crews on the trip back to Tyseus.

  When the big Secaaran, Cromm stepped over, he sat up. “What can I do for you, Cromm?” he asked, feeling magnanimous. Normally, he ordered everyone to leave him alone when he tried to rest unless there was some emergency. He knew there wasn’t one right now, and Cromm never disturbed the War Leader, really for any reason. It wasn’t in the big male’s nature.

  “I just had a question, War Leader,” the Secaaran asked, putting his hands behind his back. His posture and tone were calm, questioning. He simply had a query he wished to have answered.

  When he paused, Vok gestured for him to continue. “Yes?”

  “I just wondered, where do they keep the portable personal rocket boosters they use on the maintenance skimmers when they do the outside work on the hull of the ship? When we’re not in battle, I mean.” His face held no guile.

  Vok’s antennae curled and then straightened in his confusion. “What? Why do you need to know?”

  The rocky-skinned male shrugged. “The three of us were talking about working in space, what was needed, which brought up the topic of the maintenance skimmers, who will be going over the outside of the ship once the battle is over. I’ve heard about them from some of the crew on Nemesis when we were over there, but I’ve never seen one. Since there’s nothing to do now, and probably won’t be for hours, I figure now would be a good time.”

  Vok buzzed. “I don’t know, Cromm. I would imagine that they’re down in the shuttle bay.”

  “Oh, right,” the big male stated, nodded, light appearing in his eyes. “Thank you, War Leader. Apologies for disturbing your rest.” And with a very short bow, the big Secaaran lumbered off, his wide, heavy feet clumping on the deck.

  Vok lay back on his bunk. That was such a strange question, especially coming from Cromm. Up until this point, the big Secaaran along with his siblings had shown little to no interest in the technology on the ship unless it was employed in a boarding action. And usually not even then. The War Leader lay there for long minutes; the thought simply not leaving his mind.

  He shot to his feet. “Unruk Platoon!” he bellowed through the barracks. Twenty soldiers leaped up, coming to attention, all of them looking at him curiously (and with slight alarm). “Gear up! Full kit and make sure you have head bags and breathers. Meet in the shuttle bay in ten minutes. Move!” They moved. The other two platoons looked around at the troops scrambling around, wondering if they needed to do the same.

  The two other platoon leaders hustled over to Vok, but he waved them off. “Speak with the Commander,” he told them. “My troops are going on a special mission, but you will be needed here when the battle ends.”

  The other two chafed, but then simply nodded, leaving the zheen to his preparations.

  ((--[][]--))

  “I think I got this thing figured out,” Stryx told them, after a few minutes of studying the device. It was just as Cromm had named it, a powered rocket used on the maintenance skimmers. It didn’t provide a massive amount of thrust, but it was more than enough for their purposes. There were some attitude jets on the squat cylinder, as well as a pair of metal handles on either side, normally meant to be locked onto the base of one of the skimmers. Now, none of the Secaarans knew how to pilot one of those contraptions and had no desire to learn. Even if they’d wanted to, there was no time to do that now.

  “Good, we need to move before Commander Hestian blows a hole in that ship,” Dragga pressed, sealing the headbag and making sure her war hammer was secured to her back along with her shotgun. She also made sure the small bag she also carried was tight on her back, straps secure.

  The trio moved to the small airlock on the edge of the shuttle bay, past the large, blocky vessels, and went inside. One button push sealed it behind them. “All set? Weapons secure? Headbags sealed?” Stryx asked. They all double checked everything and then they all three nodded. They each grasped the handles, and with another button push, and then another, the airlock depressurized and once finished the outer hatch opened. The trio pushed off and exited the ship.

  “Ready to fire the rocket,” Stryx told them over their short range comms. There was their target, little over three hundred kilometers away. It might take a while to get there, but luckily, it seemed that Commander Hestian had turned Ganges and headed to intercept the smaller warship.

  The enemy frigate.

  ((--[][]--))r />
  “Commander! Airlock three on the port side is cycling,” Groth all but shouted. “We have three crew outside the ship!”

  “What!” Hestian demanded, staring at the wolf for a moment, then pulling up the data on his own display. “Kors! Who in the black hell would jump ship in the middle of a battle?”

  “Incoming transmission from port side shuttle bay,” Xkors, the zheen comms operator piped up. “It’s War Leader Vok.”

  Hestian shook his head, as though trying to shake this latest strange wraith from his head. “Put him through,” he ordered. “And guns, lock on that frigate and hammer her! War Leader, what is happening?”

  “Commander, the three Secaarans in my platoon apparently took it upon themselves to attack the frigate.” When the lupusan started to splutter, he quickly continued. “Request permission to take a shuttle out to collect them.”

  Before he could answer, a new icon appeared on Hestian’s display, showing a small blip on the port side of the ship. Then a warning light flashed, showing an opening in the shields on that side, as the blip raced through. The flashing stopped a second later as the hole in the shields closed up. “It seems your Smash Pack figured out how to open the shields long enough to rocket their way out.”

  “Yes, Commander,” the zheen agreed. “They constantly surprise me with their ingenuity.”

  Hestian huffed out a breath. “Granted. Catch them if you can, or assist them if it comes to that. I’ll try to offer what assistance I can, but I cannot promise much.”

  “Understood, Commander. And thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he growled and cut the channel.

  ((--[][]--))

  V’ka’sith buzzed to himself, ordering the guns to fire on the incoming ships. The bulk carrier was actually a gunboat carrier, as four of the small ships now raced forward to engage, each of them firing a missile at his light cruiser. “Point defense, take out those missiles. Helm bring us to port and up ten degrees and as the gunboats pass, sweep fire aft.”