Heart of Vengeance (Vigilante Book 1)

by Terry Mixon

  “We’re good,” the pilot said.

  “Ready when you are, Captain,” Shelly said.

  “Unidentified vessel, this is the mercenary ship Heart of Vengeance. Identify yourself and your companion vessels or I will have no choice but to assume you’re hostile and take appropriate action.”

  A moment later, the main screen came to life and showed a scene that made Brad relax a bit. It was a bridge similar to his own—if a bit more cramped—occupied by men and women in Fleet uniforms.

  The woman in the command chair smiled at him. “Captain Madrid, I’m Lieutenant Commander Brenda Andre of the Fleet light corvette Sting. You have good eyes. I didn’t expect you to spot us so soon.”

  “I have good people. We tagged you and your companion on the other side of Marie Curie. We haven’t spotted your third ship yet.”

  “I hope you don’t. She’s way out in front of us, scouting for enemy ships that happen to be lying in wait.”

  He nodded. That made perfect sense. “How do you want to play this?”

  “We caught your exchange with Marie Curie. Let’s play it just like that. If trouble comes calling, we’ll have the other ship you spotted screen the scientists while we focus on the bad guys. With any luck, we can shoot them down before they even see us.”

  Brad smiled coldly. “I like the way you think, Commander. Let’s go hunt some bad guys.”

  Time passed with the slowness of a watching a pot boil. Jason started getting jumpy and seeing ghosts. That wasn’t too surprising, since they were spending a lot of time on the bridge. No one was getting enough sleep.

  It was John Marshal who spotted the enemy after Brad sent the tactical officer away to get some much-needed rest.

  “I have a contact,” he said late in the evening on day five. “They’re coming up behind us and closing at a very slow rate.”

  “Signal Sting and then call the rest of the crew to battle stations.”

  Five minutes later, the rest of his people were at their consoles. The ship sneaking up on Heart was overtaking her at a relative snail’s pace and was still hours away from being a direct threat, but Brad wasn’t relaxing.

  “Sting is moving a bit away from us so they can drop back and get a better look at the enemy vessel,” Shelly said. “She says they’ll be careful to stay out of easy detection range.”

  “Did they get any word from the lead corvette?” Brad asked. “If it was me, there would be a hammer to go with the anvil. Something pops up in front of us once the other ship gets close, and then they shoot us in the back.”

  “Caught between a rock and a hard place,” Jason agreed. “We’d be at a huge disadvantage responding to either threat. It would be worse if there were a few more ships out there.

  “Using the attack on the liner as an example, if they have three smaller ships ahead of us and one our size behind us, they could really plaster us.”

  Brad sighed. “As much as I hope that isn’t the case, let’s count on them detecting and neutralizing the Fleet ship up front before it even sees them. That’s the worst-case scenario, so we’ll plan on it. What could we do?”

  “That depends on what our primary goal is,” the tactical officer said as he turned in his seat. “If we’re focused on defending the science ship, then we cover them as they make like a bird and fly the hell away. If we’re intent on disabling and destroying the enemy, we let Sting handle the ship behind us and focus on the ships that pop up ahead.”

  “What if the ship behind us is a lot bigger than Sting?” he asked, playing Devil’s advocate.

  “They’ll still bleed if someone punches their lights out from the dark. The worst case for us would be them spotting Sting and killing her. That would leave us handling a lot of ships by ourselves.”

  The other man considered what’d he’d just said. “Another possibility is that they’ll slip into mass driver range and hose us down. If we didn’t even know they were there, it would be a very last-minute surprise.”

  Brad rubbed his face tiredly. “We have to do the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt. Fleet is watching over Marie Curie. We’ll let them focus on her and trust them to do their job.

  “Equally, we have to count on Sting at least delaying contact between us and the ship back there. They’ll also let us know if the enemy starts shooting. They’re professionals. So is the scout up front.

  “Let’s run with the initial plan to accelerate and engage any ships ahead of us. Then we’ll come around and help Sting if we have to. If we can.”

  With the long delay before the trailing ship could even get into range to start shooting, he sent his people to eat and get some more rest. He’d crash in his office. He needed to be sharp when the moment came.

  “Captain!” Jason shouted. “We’re on!”

  Brad jolted awake. Everdark, he’d been drooling on his desk. That was not how he wanted anyone to see the badass mercenary captain.

  He wiped his chin as he staggered out onto the bridge and took his seat, trying to focus his attention. He hit the shipwide intercom. “All hands to battle stations.”

  Then he stared at the main screen. “What have we got?”

  “The Fleet ship up front just tripped an ambush. She says she has engaged three hostile ships. There are torpedoes and mass driver slugs all over the place up there.”

  “What about the ship on our six?”

  “Still in hiding, but they’re closer to being in range. If they light off their drives, they’ll be in mass diver range in less than twenty minutes.”

  Fleet had sprung the enemy trap early, Brad realized. The ship trailing them had hoped to get closer. The only question now was whether they’d attack or try to coast in on the fight after Heart engaged the ships ahead of her.

  If he’d been in their place, that’s what he’d have done.

  “Full speed ahead. Light up the enemy ships as soon as you have any chance of getting hits with the mass drivers. Shelly, tell Marie Curie to head off at a right angle to our course.”

  His people got to their tasks while he focused his attention on the tactical plot. The fur ball up ahead was ugly. Apparently, the Fleet ship hadn’t spotted the attackers until they opened fire. At least she’d been ready to fight.

  In the space of five minutes, the battle ahead was settled. The enemy took out the Fleet corvette, but not before it blasted one of them down in return. Dammit.

  “One of the remaining ships looks iffy,” Jason said as he examined the carnage via his sensors. “I think Fleet got part of him. The drive output is lower now and he’s limping along.”

  The two remaining ships ahead of them were on course for Heart. They were ignoring the science ship. If that kept up, the remaining escort would peel off and try to intervene in the coming fight.

  “Shots exchanged behind us,” Jason said. “Sting just punched out the trailer.”

  The Fleet vessel hadn’t made it close enough to identify the enemy ship other than to get the impression it was big. They’d find out now how much trouble they were in.

  The ship behind them lit off his drives and Brad realized they were in a lot of trouble. That was at least a destroyer back there. The light corvette Sting was heavily outgunned.

  That didn’t stop her from jumping in with both feet. The smaller ship turned on her bigger opponent like a wolf on a bear from closer than Brad had expected her to get.

  Torpedoes exploded into the slaver’s face from ludicrously short range. There was scant time for the outlaw gunners to react, and their attention must’ve been firmly on Heart, because they didn’t respond for critical seconds.

  When they did, it was with torpedoes and not defensive mass driver rounds.

  At that range, the outcome was about the same as a knife fight in a com booth. Sting’s icon vanished in a flare of brilliance even as the destroyer’s drives vanished from his repeater.

  Brad’s anger flared as he watched a brave crew die, but he had to stay focused on the fight ahead of him.
Two smaller opponents were still coming for Heart.

  “I have readings on the hostile ships ahead,” Jason said. “I’m pretty sure they’re both Fidelis-class heavy corvettes like us.”

  That was very bad news. Not as bad as fighting a destroyer and three heavy corvettes all on their lonesome, but still not a fair exchange of fire. Even if the remaining light corvette interceded on their behalf.

  “Do we have a read on the enemy’s course? Are they going to ignore Marie Curie?”

  “It looks like they’re more interested in us.”

  Brad considered that. “Shelly, send a message to the last Fleet corvette. If they can peel off the damaged heavy, we might have a fighting chance. The bastards have to be on the lookout now. Even a feint will do.”

  “Copy that. I’ll see what I can coordinate.”

  Falcone appeared in the bridge hatchway. “This seems like a good time for me to join you, Captain. I’ve been keeping track from the cabin, but I’d rather be here if we’re going to die.”

  He gestured for her to come in. “We set up one of the jump seats on the bulkhead over there. Strap in and keep the chatter down to important matters.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  The woman efficiently secured herself. “It looks like we underestimated the slaver response. We really need to find out why they want this ship in pieces.”

  “It must be pretty important,” he agreed. “We’ve lost two of our three hidden weapons. I don’t think the last Fleet ship is going to want to go head to head with a heavy corvette, even the damaged one.”

  “You underestimate them, I think. They’re not going to back down. The enemy just killed a lot of their friends. They’ll want blood.”

  Right about then, the remaining light corvette engaged her drives and powered in toward the oncoming enemy ships.

  “It looks as if you’re right,” Brad admitted. “Now we get to see how this plays out.”

  Predictably, the damaged heavy peeled off and headed for the Fleet vessel. It was moving more slowly than Brad had expected, even in a damaged condition. The lead ship must’ve really mauled it.

  “Can we get a read on that ship?” he asked Jason.

  “It’s down a drive unit, at a minimum,” the tactical officer said after a minute. “One of the remaining units might be out of alignment, too. It’s skating around as if the pilot can’t measure the output consistently.”

  “Worse than Heart when we found her,” Marshal agreed. “If the Fleet commander is smart, he might be able to use that to his advantage.”

  “Pull us to the far side of the enemy flight path,” Brad said. “Let’s make sure his buddy can’t provide any covering fire. In fact, let’s see if we can mess him up a little. Start unloading mass driver slugs at the damaged ship. We only have to get lucky once. He’s already in bad shape.”

  The tactical officer shot him a dubious look. “If we dedicate all our Gatlings to him, we won’t have them if we need them ourselves. Not without devoting some time to retargeting them.”

  “We can take the risk for a battle companion.”

  “You got it.”

  The odds of hitting the other ship, especially since it was on an unstable flight path, were exceedingly slim. Worth it, though.

  “How long until torpedo range with the primary target?”

  “Fifteen minutes until effective range.”

  “But not maximum range?”

  Jason turned in his seat again, his frown back. “If we’re willing to let the torpedoes go ballistic, no. They won’t have any better chances of hitting than mass driver rounds, though. And they’re a lot more expensive.”

  He was going to have to think about that if they made it out of this.

  “How well can they see a torpedo after it burns out its drive?”

  “They’ll have a rough idea of where it is. Not a precise location, but something general.”

  “We’re dodging, right?” he asked Marshal.

  “I let a slaver tag us once and you never let me live it down. Yes, we’re dodging.”

  “Good,” he said. “Jason, launch some torpedoes to put the enemy off balance. Keep them guessing. Two salvoes.”

  The other man shrugged and turned back to his console. Moments later, the tactical repeater at Brad’s side showed the torpedo launch.

  The icons for it and the follow up-salvo made it most of the way to the enemy ship and began flashing as the drives failed.

  All of the first set missed by a fairly wide margin. The second grouping was close enough to warrant targeted mass driver fire, though. Only, the other ship didn’t fire. It used its drives to swerve farther away from the torpedoes, so none hit it, but that was a damned risky move.

  “They didn’t fire mass drivers,” he mused aloud. “What if Fleet knocked them out in the ambush?”

  A plan formed in his mind. It was reckless and his ship would pay the price if he guessed wrong. The demon inside him was pleased. Eager, even. Time to make them bleed.

  “John, go to maximum thrust. Minimal dodging. Take us right at the bastard. Jason, Gatlings to defense. We’ll let our torpedoes speak for us.”

  He expected argument, but his crew just implemented his orders. If the enemy did still have mass drivers, this would hurt a lot.

  The two ships reached torpedo range right as the tactical plot updated to indicate the damaged enemy ship had taken hits from their mass driver rounds. Pure, blind luck.

  Not enough to cripple it, but more than enough to put their defenses into disarray right as the Fleet corvette opened fire with torpedoes. They might make it after all.

  But he didn’t have time to watch. He had his own life-and-death struggle ahead of him.

  “They’re firing torpedoes,” Jason said. “We have four incoming. This is going to get hairy.”

  “Keep pressing him.”

  They both spent torpedoes like they had an unlimited number. This exchange was going to prove costly for Fleet, assuming Heart came out the other side intact.

  Even with all their Gatlings tasked to defense, some of the enemy torpedoes came far closer than Brad liked. One made it through everything they could throw at it and slammed into Heart of Vengeance at full speed.

  The impact was like slamming into a wall while running full speed. Damage alarms blared and his repeaters lit up with lurid warnings about failed systems.

  “We lost a third of our Gatlings,” Jason shouted. “Evasive maneuvers!”

  The other ship quietly blew up right at that moment. A full quartet of Heart’s torpedoes had slammed into the other ship, ending its existence in an expanding cloud of gas and debris.

  His heart soared as he watched them die. This was what he lived for now.

  “Torpedoes to defense,” Brad snapped.

  That was also a costly use for the weapons, but it beat dying.

  Heart took one more torpedo impact, a glancing shot that slammed them all sideways in their acceleration couches. Then they were clear.

  “What’s the status of the last enemy vessel?” he asked. It was still on the repeater, engaged in a close torpedo duel with the Fleet warship.

  “Leaking air and debris,” Jason said. “They’re badly damaged. So is the Fleet vessel.”

  “Take us around. Fire torpedoes as soon as we get into range.”

  Brad opened a line to engineering. “Talk to me, Mike.”

  “We’re mostly in one piece. That hit up front knocked out a lot of secondary systems, and life support is offline. I’m pretty sure I can get it back up once you stop letting people shoot us.”

  “That part is about over. We’re heading in to help the Fleet ship, but they’re coming out on top.”

  “Then let me do my job.”

  The connection terminated without another word.

  “They got him!” Jason shouted, his fist pumping in the air. “The Fleet ship took him out!”

  A single look at the repeater showed the story. The other heavy corvette was g
one. His side had survived the ambush. Some of them, at least.

  “Take us to Sting’s last reported location,” Brad ordered tiredly, his energy guttering out with his rage. “We’ll make sure the destroyer is out of action and start search-and-rescue operations. Let the other Fleet ship go check on the forward scout. Once we’re sure it’s safe, Marie Curie can assist.”

  His most decisive battle with the Cadre and slavers to date was over. The demon inside him was pleased at how they’d made the enemy pay, but it was time to see how much it had cost them.

  Chapter Twenty

  To Brad’s utter astonishment, there were survivors on what was left of Sting. The light corvette was blown open but had only split into two large pieces. Once they got close enough, Shelly started picking up short-range distress beacons and calls for help.

  Saburo and his men led the way in after the survivors. The small ship had a crew of eight, and they managed to pull five living people from the wreck, including Lieutenant Commander Brenda Andre.

  It was a good thing that Dwayne Holmes, one of the mercenaries, and Falcone both had significant medical training, or they might have lost two of the injured before Marie Curie arrived on scene with a real doctor.

  The news from the scout in front was grim. There were no survivors from the other ship.

  The operational corvette had taken damage and lost some of their people too, so half of the Fleet personnel with them had died in the fight. It made his blood boil. Even in victory, there would be no cheering today.

  They transferred all of the wounded to Marie Curie and turned their attention to the tumbling destroyer. Its power was offline and it hadn’t shown any hint it was ready to fire torpedoes. It might be completely dead.

  Or it might be playing possum and waiting for someone to poke it.

  Brad joined Saburo and his men in the shuttle. They’d find out soon enough.

  Falcone numbered shuttle piloting among her skills, so Brad left Marshal on Heart. If this derelict came to life, he wanted his ship to get clear as quickly as possible.

  They approached the hulk from the rear. None of the ship’s weapons covered that angle. With the way the wreck tumbled, Falcone had to bring them in fast once the ship was swinging away from Heart.