Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2

by Michael Kotcher

  “Aye, sir,” the ensign replied.

  “Comms, open a channel to the Ravage,” Harth ordered, turning to look to that station, where Petty officer Khovik sat.

  The zheen worked his console for a moment. “I have Lieutenant Tran for you, sir.”

  “Lieutenant, what do you have for us?”

  Tran chuckled. “Captain, Legacy’s sensors are better than Ravage’s. You should be the one telling me what we’re seeing here in the system.”

  Harth smiled. “Understood, Lieutenant. What I actually meant was, what can Ravage’s data banks tell us about what the pirates have in this system?”

  Tran looked off to the side, as though he was looking to another person on the corvette’s bridge. A second display window popped up in front of Harth, showing the data from Ravage’s computers. “According to what the pirate databases tell us, there’s corvette and a destroyer here in system to keep an eye on things, and these are among the biggest forces the pirate Verrikoth has in his arsenal. I guess he’s really trying to keep this place safe, though from what or from I don’t know. I haven’t gotten all the way into their files yet. Other pirates? The Republic? I don’t know, sir. But, there’s a yard here in the system and it’s big enough to build a heavy cruiser.”

  “Well, if it can, then the question becomes, if they could build a heavy cruiser, did they? And if they did,” Harth went on, absently rubbing the bridge his nose with one finger, “Why didn’t they have it with them at Ulla-tran? Three light cruisers and a heavy would have put the odds way into their favor.”

  Tran nodded. “Yes, sir. With the seven ships they already had, not counting this one, Legacy would have been hard pressed to win that fight.”

  Duncan sighed. “Yes, you’re right. So, we have some questions to answer. How is your ship holding up?”

  “Looking good so far, sir,” Tran replied. “Though I admit that we could use some time in yard hands.” His voice was a bit rueful.

  Harth chuckled. “I’m sure. Call in immediately if there are any new problems.” He straightened in his command chair. “All right, Lieutenant. Maintain your current station relative to Legacy and follow us in. As I said, we have some questions to answer.”

  “Yes, sir,” the commander of Ravage replied with a stalwart look.

  “Captain Skygexx, we have an incoming ship on sensors, relayed from the Wrath,” the sensor operator aboard the destroyer Ironhide reported.

  Captain Skygexx, an elder zheen male with scarred magenta carapace, turned to his sensor operator. His position as commander of Verrikoth’s fleet forces here in the Tyseus system had been a boring, tedious and thankless job. Tyseus was near to two different well-populated systems, something of an oddity here in the Argos Cluster, having three such systems all within a few light years of one another, which meant that a place as important as this needed to have protection. At first, when he had accepted the position here, Skygexx believed that this would be a prestigious post. This was one of five shipyards under the pirate lord’s control, but this was the only one big enough to construct heavy cruisers, which meant it needed to be protected. Skygexx understood that and was honored by Verrikoth’s faith in him.

  But after sixteen months of the endless patrol here, the honor was starting to run thin. For months, there had been a steady stream of Verrikoth’s freighters coming here bringing in processed materials and supplies for the shipyard. The technicians and yard workers had been diligently continuing with the construction of the ship in the yard, but it was slow going. The yard was understaffed and the pirate lord was unwilling to bring in slaves to work on such an important vessel.

  And now, it seemed that the Commander himself was going to go forth and take on the Republic’s main base, pulling in most of his forces to be able to do so. But he had decided to leave Skygexx here to guard the shipyard, which meant that this zheen was out of luck. Oh, he understood why he was being left behind, but it still bit deep. It was going to be an interesting time for the Republic, he knew, for with a flotilla of eight ships, four of them dedicated warships bigger than most of what the Republic Navy had out here.

  “What kind of ship?” Skygexx asked, with dim interest. No one ever came to Tyseus, no one unexpected that is. There was a convoy of cargo ships scheduled to arrive from the Home Base eight days from now, but it was possible they might be early. But the sensor officer had said one ship.

  “Checking, sir,” the young zheen replied. “It’s a warship, sir. A big one, from these readings.” He paused. “It’s a Republic ship, sir.”

  “Confirmed, Captain!” the comms officer nearly screeched.

  “Stow that, Kezzin!” The Captain’s voice cracked like a whip. The comms officer, another young zheen, shrank in his chair. He was the youngest officer on the bridge, the offspring of a senior government official on one of the worlds that openly supported their lord Verrikoth. Which meant his brood mother and her consort were important people; people that Verrikoth wanted to keep happy. That cut two ways of course. If they continued to please Verrikoth, he would continue to do little favors for them, like assign one of their offspring to one of his warships. If they displeased them, he’d drop rocks on their heads from orbit and then dream contentedly while he slept that night. Which meant that Skygexx got to deal with a very green, very pompous and very entitled little shit who couldn’t control his voice when unexpected things happened. “We’re in close quarters here on the bridge; there is no need to shout.”

  “Sorry, Captain,” the ensign replied, his carapace flushing a mauve color in his embarrassment.

  “Good,” Skygexx said, holding his gaze on the junior officer for a long moment before speaking. “Now, report.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Ensign Kezzin replied. “We’re showing beacon ID for the ship, it’s confirmed; a Republic heavy cruiser, the Legacy.”

  Skygexx’s antennae twitched. “Now, what the hell are they doing here?” he said softly. This was not good. With the available forces they had here, Skygexx would be hard pressed to fight them off and there was every reason to believe that he would have to fight, eventually.

  “Hyper footprint!” the sensor officer called, interrupting his captain’s thoughts.

  “Talk to me, Sensors,” Skygexx pressed.

  “Working, Captain,” the officer said, refusing to be rushed. Skygexx had to suppress a chitter of amusement. Kufazik was not the offspring of anyone important; he was one of eighty born in his clutch; his brood mother was the owner of a skellig farm on Rho-Medusa. The skellig was a type of beetle which was prized for its flavor and ability to breed quickly, and was a delicacy on any zheen table, but the farm his brood mother owned was small. Kufazik had to fight to get to the position he held, which spoke to his competency and his iron will, two things that Skygexx appreciated. If only he had ten more officers like his sensor officer, the captain lamented for perhaps the millionth time since taking command of Ironhide. “I’ve got it, sir. It’s a corvette.” But then the male zheen’s antennae straightened slowly in confusion. “Sir, I’m getting conflicting reports here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, sir, the sensor profile we’re getting shows it to be the Ravage, sir,” Kufazik said, gesturing to his display. “That’s one of the ships that is supposed to be with Lord Verrikoth’s forces.”

  “Right,” Skygexx replied, nodding slowly. “But…?”

  “But,” the officer went on, “they’re also showing Republic ID.”

  “Ensign?” Skygexx asked, turning to Kezzin.

  “Confirmed, sir,” the comms officer answered. “Showing Republic beacon ID, though the name of the ship is unchanged.”

  Skygexx felt his thorax fill with ice. There was only one real possibility for that. He saw Kufazik stiffen at his console. “You understand, don’t you Mister Kufazik?”

  The zheen turned to look at his captain. “Yes, sir. That the Ravage has been taken as a prize.”

  Which meant a very difficult tactical problem just got a
whole lot worse. “All right. Contact the Wrath. Tell them we’re on our way to meet up with them and they are to maintain scan. Make sure they report any activity as soon as they see it.”

  “Aye, sir.” There was a slight nervousness to his voice, but the ensign clearly understood.

  “Navigation, set us a course for the Wrath. Once the course is set, helm, take us there.”

  A chorus of acknowledgements came from his officers and a few moments later, the hum of the engines could be heard, as the ship accelerated.

  “Captain, the destroyer is moving,” Ensign Drommen reported. “They’re accelerating in our direction.”

  “For an intercept?” Harth asked. They were all still long way to go before the ships entered engagement range, two days at present speed. There was plenty of time to start maneuvering.

  “I don’t think so, sir,” the ensign replied. “It looks like they’re moving to link up with that corvette.”

  “Continue on course,” Harth ordered.

  The four ships continued in toward each other over the next twenty hours, as both sides grew a bit more anxious. Finally, they reached communications range and Harth ordered a channel open. “This is Commander Duncan Harth of the Republic cruiser Legacy to incoming ships. We have no hostile intent. We are in pursuit of a bulk freighter that we believe has come to this system and we would appreciate any assistance you could render in that regard. Please respond.”

  Skygexx received this message and didn’t know what to think. “They’re coming here for a freighter,” he said, disbelieving. “There’s no way they’re coming here, carrying a prize pirate corvette chasing a freighter.”

  The other officers were showing signs of agreement. It was simply too ridiculous that the Republic would use a heavy cruiser to chase down a wayward freighter. No, they were here to deal with this system. Though, Skygexx mused upon further reflection, that didn’t quite make sense either. Sure, the Republic were arrogant fools and their tech was several generations better than what was available to people here in the Cluster. In fact, it was probably at least three levels better, possibly even four which made this whole tactical problem more like a disaster. He was already outclassed, but now it was becoming apparent just how outclassed he really was.

  “Link up with the Wrath,” he ordered. “Instruct them to follow us, we’re moving back to cover the fueling station.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Kezzin replied, sending the message to the other ship.

  “And put me on with this Commander Harth.”

  Kezzin hesitated for just an instant. Then he pressed the controls and nodded to his captain. “This is Captain Skygexx of the warship Ironhide. There have been no freighters through this system in several weeks. You are intruding into the sovereign territory of the Tyseus system. You are directed to reverse course and exit this system immediately.” He pressed a control, ending the call. “This is not going to go well. But at least we’ll have an advantage if we can get them in range of the fueling station. Send a message to the station, tell them I want them to be ready when I call.”

  “They’re falling back,” Drommen reported.

  “It’s really their only option,” Kamerov mused. “They can’t take us on in a straight up fight. Falling back is the only real option they have that isn’t suicide, but I have to wonder what they’re trying to draw us back to.”

  “Agreed,” Harth replied. He checked his tactical plot on the small display at his command chair. “Well, the vector they’re on is going to take them very close to that gas giant.”

  “You think they might have more forces hidden behind it?” the XO asked.

  “Well, considering we’re not seeing anything else in the open,” Harth said. “It’s the only safe bet.”

  “What about the yard?” Drommen asked. “I’m showing it on sensors now, Captain.”

  “What do we have?”

  “There’s a ship in the docking slip, Captain,” the domak replied. “Heavy cruiser sized hull, but it’s on low power. It’ll be hours if not longer to get it fully powered up. But if the other two ships keep us occupied for long enough, they could conceivably be able to get that ship into the fight, if it’s complete enough.”

  “How close are we going to have to get to find out more about that ship?”

  Drommen considered that. “I’d like to get within twenty light seconds, Captain, if that’s possible.”

  Harth considered it. “Continue on course for now,” he ordered. “Keep an eye on those ships.”

  “They’re still following,” Kufazik reported, hours later. The Ironhide and Wrath were almost to the fueling station, well within range of the station’s defenses but the Republic ships were still five minutes from effective range.

  “Good,” Skygexx replied. “All right, swing us out to port, forty-five degree turn. I want us to swing out and look as though we’re trying to draw them away from the fueling station.”

  The helmsman executed the order and the Ironhide pulled away from the station, Wrath staying right with her.

  “Come on, now, little Republic dog,” Skygexx purred. “Be a good little dog and follow the meat. Do like you’re supposed to and follow the helpless little rabbit.”

  Chapter 19

  “We have breakout!” the helmsman reported.

  Marklan Peredes Turco nodded in satisfaction. “Thank you helm.” He pressed a stud on his control chair. “Engineering, bridge.”

  “Raxos here, sir,” the domak engineer replied.

  “Secure the hyperdrive, Chief,” Peredes ordered. “We’re going to be on sublight drives at this point forward and on to the planet.”

  “Copy that, Marklan,” the tortoise like creature replied, her voice gravelly yet surprisingly light.

  Peredes watched the displays at his command chair and he nodded again as the hyperdrive was powered down. “Sensors, talk to me.”

  “No nearby contacts, Marklan,” Corones Parn, his sensor officer replied. The young man had served aboard Adroit for almost as long as Turco had and he knew his job. “I’m showing all six of the civilian ships right in the formation we left them in. Torrent just dropped out of hyperspace, sir.”

  “Well, it looks like this run is going to be as straightforward as the last,” Turco said to no one in particular, but the crew on the bridge all nodded in agreement. “Set a course for the inner system, toward the orbital station.” It had been a long while since Adroit or her Marklan had come to Seylonique, almost fifty months. The system seemed very much like it had the last time he’d come through here, quiet. However, this time, bringing in a convoy of ships, he was determined that this time would be different.

  After successfully recruiting a full load of personnel back in Bimawae, the convoy had trouped back to Ulla-tran to resupply and drop off their charges. On the way back, Turco and one of the freighter captains, Delia Blackthorne, had convinced Goris Hana and the others in the ruling council that instead of just flying their ships to Seylonique completely empty that they should transship goods here to try and make some sort of profit on this run. It would be easy enough to reconvert the ships back to carrying passengers once the cargo had been offloaded. The holds were loaded up with electronics and other techno goodies, hopefully they would fetch a decent price in the markets at Seylonique. The locals in this system had been on a bit of an economic downturn in recent years. Fewer and fewer cargo ships were going out to ply their wares and the goods coming out of Seylonique had been of poorer quality than they had been even five years ago. Blackthorne was hoping that this shipment of good would not only generate a tidy little profit for herself, the other captains and the leaders back at Ulla-tran, but also would be the catalyst to restart the industry in this system.

  Peredes Turco wasn’t sure if he believed that would be the case, but he was more than happy to guard ships that were full of cargoes, because that meant that the captains and crews of those ships were happier. The run from Ulla-tran to Bimawae had been nothing but torture for him,
as the captains had done nothing but bitch about the empty holds they had all the way from the hyper limit to the inner system. Then, they had complained the whole way back about carrying passengers instead of cargoes. And then once they reached Ulla-tran they complained all the way in to the orbital. The only respite and the only reason that Turco hadn’t considered turning his weapons on the cargo ships in sheer frustration was because during the long trip in hyperspace the ships had been unable to communicate with each other. It was one of the things that so far modern science hadn’t been able to crack. Communications of any type were impossible between ships while in hyperspace.

  But the various captains had decided that they would make up for lost time by sending an unending string of complaints to both him and to Theodosia Mayev, the commander of the Torrent. Both of the Navy commanders commiserated about their situation, while steadfastly refusing to change their orders, their course or their speed. The freighter captains could bitch all they wanted, but it was up to the two frigates to keep the convoy safe. At least, Turco thought, this time they had goods to sell, which so far had decreased the complaints to almost nothing. But of course, now they were complaining, again, that the convoy wasn’t moving fast enough. The captains apparently were very excited about getting into port to sell off their cargo.

  He could not wait to be done with this assignment.

  George Miller was seated at his Operations console on the bridge, going over a few system status reports. He was only one of two crewmembers here, since there was little need for a full bridge watch. All the ship needed was for someone to keep an eye on things here and scream for help if anything did actually happen. He was training one of the newbies to be able to stand bridge watch, and the spacer apprentice was seated at the communications console, but he wasn’t wearing an earpiece.

  “So, Mister Miller, is this all there is for a bridge watch?” Byron Janacek asked, looking up from the console. He was the newest of the recent hirings, a young man barely out of secondary schooling but eager to get a berth aboard a starship. So far, George had learned that the young Mister Janacek could read and write, had decent mathematical skills but had very little in the way of practical experience and none in starship operations. Which was why Janacek was standing port watch with George. He would be standing watch with a more experienced hand for three weeks, to make sure that he would understand what he needed to do during the long stretches and the more experienced hands could watch him and make sure he wouldn’t do something stupid and blow up the ship.