“We’ll take that, too,” Zerith said.
“Mike and his guys are working on it,” Mike said. “It may be finished, but you know a Dalgit has four tentacles. I don’t know that a human or any other race with two hands can fly it. I have three Dalgit that work for us as technicians. They flew it here for me. Not very well, either; none of them are trained pilots, and they caused some of the damage we had to fix.”
“We can fly it,” Hank said. Stan nodded along with him.
“They probably can,” Harmon agreed.
“Let’s take a walk, and we’ll see if he’s done with it,” Mike said.
On the other side of the destroyers sat a frigate-sized ship. It was shaped differently than Tretrayon frigates, since it was almost round in shape. Harmon could see the covers for the missile launchers circling the ship. The design allowed the missiles to fly away from the ship in all directions, then turn toward the target as one.
The ship had a large ramp on the back between its two engines, like a shuttle ramp. It was open, and their entire group stopped and stared.
“Look here, Boot!” a bald man with a trimmed beard was shouting. He had a slim cigar in the corner of his mouth and it moved up and down as he talked. “You’re lucky my stinking hand was caught in that panel, or I would have chased you down and punted you like a warball!”
He waved a large wrench and yelled at a three-foot-tall shiny green beetle. The beetle stood on its back two legs and looked at the man, its antennae slowly waving. Behind the beetle was a group of about fifty more beetles in various shimmering colors, many holding tools.
When the man finished yelling, he looked away for a minute then told the beetle, “No I’m not injured. Just hurt. You’re killing me, Tim. Killing me! Y’all get in there and finish it up.”
Tim, the beetle, stood straight and saluted with two legs, it’s small pinchers closed like fingers together. It spun around, and all fifty-something beetles flowed quickly into the ship.
“Problems?” Mike asked, grinning.
“Smilps!” the other Mike exclaimed. “They drive me crazy sometimes. They get to moving so fast, someone could get hurt.”
“I keep trying to tell you, let the Smilps do the work, you just supervise,” Mike said. “This is our last customer here in this system. He wants to buy it all.”
“Nice. I’m Mike, Mike Bradford,” the bald Mike said as he reached out and shook Harmon’s hand. “Call me Bradford…Ouch!” He shook his hand after Harmon released it. “Dang Smilps. Bunch a boots, every one of them.”
“Let’s get a cup of coffee and swap some titles and credit,” Mike suggested.
“Sound’s good,” Harmon said. “What’s coffee?”
“What kinda backwoods world doesn’t have coffee?” Bradford asked, shaking his head. He pointed with his cigar as he spoke. “Y’all need to get out more.”
“Well, that’s that,” Mike said about an hour later. “You now own twelve more ships and fourteen shuttles, though I don’t know if I would classify the Shylot 4 as a shuttle. The previous owners converted it into a dropship. It’ll hold ten decent-sized mechs, depending on what you got, and it has that underbelly quad mounted on it.”
They had just completed the transaction, and the credits had been transferred. Mike and Mike’s was now officially out of ships. Five of the ships Harmon had purchased were not warships, but he purchased them with the company’s credit, not the credit provided for the system defense. He had a plan forming in the back of his mind, but that was for later.
“Great. Now I just have to figure out the logistics,” Harmon said. “We’re going to have to go with skeleton crews on most of them to the Tretrayon system.”
“We can have the ssmaller oness ride on back of the bigger sshipss,” Zerith suggested.
“Yeah, man, it’ll be cheaper going through the gate,” Clip said.
“I’ll ride with the brothers on the frigate,” Marteen volunteered.
“Do you sing?” Hank asked Marteen. “We will teach you The Ballad of the Night Bandit.”
“The what of the who?” Bradford asked. He looked over at Harmon. “Are these two for real? You’re gonna let them fly a ship?”
“Sure,” Harmon said. “They’re great pilots.”
“All I can tell you is, I’m glad it ain’t mine,” Bradford said, laughing. “You bought it; if they wreck it, it belongs to you.”
“Harmon,” Jayneen said over the comms. She addressed him over every crew member’s comms. Everyone in the room looked over at Harmon.
“Go ahead, Jayneen,” Harmon said. The AI contacting him this way from the ship was unusual. Clip’s fingers started flying across his slate.
“There’s been a gate entry,” Jayneen reported. “Four Squilla ships just entered and split up. They’re headed toward Salvage Title and gaining speed.”
“Frost!” Harmon said, standing. “What do they have?”
“It ain’t good,” Clip said, looking up from his slate. “One heavy battlecruiser, a destroyer, and two medium battlecruisers.” He had linked into Salvage Title’s defensive bridge.
“They’ll reach this location in seven hours, given their preferred battle speed,” Jayneen announced.
“Oh, they will, will they?” Bradford said. He looked over at Mike with a question in his eyes.
“Why not?” Mike said, grinning. He slid his slate closer to himself and entered a code. Alarms started going off, and every other light started flashing.
“I call the Bentwick!” Bradford said, running out of the room. Harmon could hear him shouting for Tim as he ran.
“Dang! I was going to call it,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll run defenses here.”
“What do you have?” Harmon asked.
“Cube has a lot of defensive lasers, and some pretty good shields, and I doubt the Squilla missiles can penetrate it,” Mike said. “There are over a thousand Smilps employed by us. They’ll be scrambling all over this ship, repairing shield generators, damaged boards, and relays as fast as they blow. A couple times a year, some idiot gets it in their head that they can take our inventory and not pay for it. You’d be surprised how some of the alien mercenaries think two old human veterans can’t handle a few ships, though I have to admit, we never fought off a raid with ships that big.”
“Do you have any offensive weapons?” Harmon asked as they headed toward the shuttle bay.
“Why yes, yes we do,” Mike said smiling. “This thing is one great big defensive platform. We can bust off fifty missiles per side. For three salvos, anyway. It takes a while for the racks to be reloaded, though. This ship is old, and there are some computing and programming issues. It’s a combination of automated and hand loading, but we have a hundred and forty employees, besides the Smilps, that can oversee it.”
“Nicce,” Zerith said.
“What about ship security?” Marteen asked as they entered the bay.
“We got it covered,” Mike said. “Look,” he said and nodded toward the shuttle.
Standing there was a squad of ten beings. They were six-and-a-half-feet tall and fully armed. The humanoid beings stood on their rear legs, and Harmon could see what looked to be two swords outside their camouflage fatigues, one on each hip, as part of their gear. There were polished metal shields strapped to their backs. Their heads resembled a deer-like creature that was native to Joth.
“Those are Tralge, and they aren’t wearing swords. Those are their horns, which they screw back on if they get planetside,” Mike said. “The ones who leave their planet have them cut off, and they hire out as security. These guys have been with us for several years. Good troops, all of them. There are twenty more in the large bay.”
“Hey!” Bradford called over Mike’s comms. “Somebody link us in. We’re almost ready up here. Ask that Harmon guy what his plan is.”
“My plan?” Harmon asked loud enough for Bradford to hear him.
“Yeah, I mean…I’m a retired staff sergeant, no
t an officer. I worked for a living,” Bradford said. “We’ll be ready to lift off the top of Cube in about forty minutes. We have to disconnect the temporary connection tube. You just tell me what’s what, and we’ll kick some Squilla ass.”
Harmon had to smile as he eased the shuttle out of the bay, and he had kicked it in to head back to Salvage Title, when he heard Bradford ask over the comms, “Hey, do Squilla have asses?”
* * * * *
Chapter Sixteen
“Ok,” Harmon said. He had the comms officer create a link between Salvage Title, the Bentwick light battlecruiser, and Cube. “They’re coming in at an angle from both sides. It’s almost like what we used in the last battle in the Tretrayon system. Do you have pilots for the four fighters that work on the Bentwick?”
“That’s a roger,” Bradford answered. “There are five Smilps in each one. They can handle it.”
“Good,” Harmon said. “I’m sending Marteen out in our Zax, along with the ten Sleek fighters from Salvage Title.”
“How are you going to talk to the Smilps? I doubt you have their language programmed in your translators,” Mike asked from Cube.
“I’ll take care of that now,” Jayneen volunteered.
Moments later Harmon heard many voices talking over each other on the comms. This wasn’t going to work.
“Alright! Alright!” Marteen came over the comms. “Listen up you four…or twenty…whatever. I’m designating you as Charlie Two through Five. Only one of you in each craft works the comms. Stay on me, and switch to the alternate frequency. Captain Tomeral doesn’t need to hear our conversations while he does his thing. We’ll take our orders through flight ops on Salvage Title. Form on me, and let’s get to the other side of Cube.”
“Bradford, form up on our starboard side, and we’ll swing out wide, come in, and take on the heavy battlecruiser and the destroyer,” Harmon decided. “It’ll keep the medium battlecruisers from launching at us for a while as we move away from them. If they launch fighters, we’ll turn ours loose from above Cube and they can sweep down. If they don’t launch fighters, the fighters will attack the two medium battlecruisers at maximum range for the fighter missiles. Mike, can you launch on the two medium battlecruisers first and then rotate Cube?”
“Rotate?” Mike asked over the comms. “The strongest shields are on the side with the bays.”
“Yeah, but if you’re rotating, you can get off more missiles at the onset of the battle,” Harmon countered. “Wait, belay that. Turn Cube so a corner is facing the incoming ships. You should be able to fire two sides at once. A hundred missiles in one salvo, then spin and do it again.”
“Ohhh, I like it,” Bradford said from the bridge of the Bentwick ship. “You just punch ’em in the mouth from the get-go.”
“Exactly,” Harmon answered.
“We can do that,” Mike said with a grin up on the main screen. “It takes a while to get this thing moving in one direction, but rotating is faster, and this’ll be over before they know what hit them. We’ve never fired all the missiles on one side at once, much less two sides. I love a good battle plan. I’m glad you came shopping at Mike and Mike’s, even if you did bring them to the system.”
“Battle stations, all hands to battle stations,” Harmon announced over Salvage Title’s internal comms. “Clip, you ready?”
“We’re ready, man,” Clip answered. “Bring it on.”
“They’ll be within range in twenty minutes,” Jayneen said later. She was down in the Defensive Bridge with Clip and his crew. Clip and Zerith had installed breakers throughout the console she had been placed in, along with two back up power cells. Just in case. Nobody wanted a repeat of the last battle.
“Zerith,” Harmon asked. “How does it look back there?”
“Power plant is operating at peak proficcienccy,” Zerith replied. “I had Brickle tell the little oness that we were going into combat mode several hourss ago. Kyla chewed him out. You know they hate ssstress on their plantss and enginess. Sshe hass him bussting his tail down here. It is hilariousss. He keepss giving me the third eye.”
“I would have paid credit to see that,” Clip lamented.
“I told him to tell Kyla and Vera to sstraighten up back there,” Zerith added, laughing.
“What’s wrong with you two?” Jayneen asked. “This is serious.”
“Pre-combat humor, Jayneen,” Harmon answered. “It’s normal.” He looked over and grinned at Corporal Bahroot; even the big Yalteen was smiling, and he rarely did.
Eighteen minutes later, it was time. “Bev,” Harmon said. “Split the salvo of missiles between the two of them, and then fire the pulse cannons at the heavy battlecruiser when they’re in range.”
“Yes sir, targeting now,” the weapons officer answered. “It will be two minutes.”
“We’ll rotate front and one side, since we only have two cannons on the repaired starboard side,” Harmon added.
“Launching a full spread now, sir,” Bev announced.
“Whoa!” Bradford said over the link. “They’re in range for you already? Must be nice!”
“Just so you know, you didn’t buy anything with that kinda reach from us today,” Mike said.
“Hey, Bradford,” Zerith said over the link from down in Salvage Title’s power plant.
“Yeah?” the retired staff sergeant answered.
“The Bentwick iss not yourss…sso if you wreck it, you bought it,” Zerith said, trying not to laugh.
“Wait...what? That’s not how it works!” Bradford said, though he was grinning with everyone else who heard the exchange.
“Sir, the oncoming ships have launched forty missiles,” the tactical officer announced.
“Launching a second salvo,” the weapons officer announced.
“The Bentwick has launched a salvo of twelve missiles,” the tactical officer announced immediately after.
Down in the Defensive Bridge, Jayneen announced to the room, “forty missiles inbound.”
“Launch four salvos of shotgun missiles,” Clip ordered. “You know the deal, set them to go off two seconds before meet point.”
“Launching sixteen,” answered Defensive Position One.
* * *
“They have launched twenty missiles, Commander,” announced the tactical officer on the Squilla ship Crushing Depth.
“At this distance?” Commander One A’Matith demanded. He rose up on all eight legs on his commander’s platform so he could get a better look at the main screen.
“Tell Black Seas and Shoreline to swing back in tight and engage the medium battlecruiser as soon as it comes in range,” A’Matith ordered. “Close the pincer now!”
“Launching missiles now,” announced the weapons officer a minute later. “Bay Runner has launched with us.”
“Sir, both the medium and light battlecruisers have launched missiles at us,” announced the tactical officer. “There are now fifty-two missiles inbound.”
“Engage the rapid lasers at maximum range,” A’Matith ordered.
The rapid laser turrets turned as one on the Squilla ships and began firing their crisscrossed pattern in an attempt to destroy the incoming missiles before they reached the shields.
A’Matith watched the tactical screen as thirty-four missiles from his first salvo exploded or went spinning off in different directions. He could not believe his eyestalks. “What just happened?” he demanded.
“Sir, I do not know,” the tactical officer said. “Nothing showed on my sensors.”
“Launching full salvo,” announced the weapons officer.
Just then a call came over the squadron net from Commander Two O’Tripta on the medium battlecruiser Black Seas, “The spaceport has launched two hundred missiles! We are dumping fighters!”
Four missiles hit the Crushing Depth like hammer blows. The shields held, but barely. If all the missiles that struck had only been from Salvage Title alone, they would have failed. Before the crew on the Squilla heavy battlecruis
er could react, though, incredible sledge hammer blows began hitting the ship’s shield. The shields blew, and energy blasts began tearing the ship apart.
Over. The battle is over already, thought A’Matith. All these years…promoted to a One before ever commanding a full task force…my entire career…my life…over. He sank back to his platform, resigned. He didn’t bother to command his comms officer to send a report through the gate message service. A spaceport with that kind of offensive capabilities? In a system with no central government. I wouldn’t believe the report, either.
When the command to dump fighters is given, it is never a good indication of how a battle is going. Dumping fighters was much different from launching fighters. His second in command on the Black Seas knew there would be no way to save his ships.
No one on the bridge of the Crushing Depth was alive to witness as the two ships closing the pincer were shredded under the onslaught of missiles from Cube.
* * *
“That was crazy! I’ve never been on a bridge and seen that many missiles coming at me,” Bradford called over the comms. “I thought we were going to catch a couple of those.”
Salvage Title and its escort’s defensive lasers had taken out the last of the missiles to make it through the shotgun blasts. When the Bentwick ship had engaged its defensive lasers, it didn’t have the reach the ones on Salvage Title had, but in close, its anti-missile lasers put up a dizzying net of protection. It may have been an old ship, but when it was made, defensive lasers were more advanced than shield technology in the Bentwick system. Its shields needed to be upgraded to reflect the times, but its defensive lasers were more than enough to be effective.
“Sir, the targets have both been destroyed,” announced the tactical officer.
“Thanks, Adam,” Harmon said. “Bev, cease fire and get a lock on the other two.”
“The two medium battlecruisers have launched fighters,” Jayneen announced to both bridges. “I count twenty-four fighters. They’re moving at an extremely high rate of speed away from their ships.”
Salvage Fleet Page 10