Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1

by Michael Kotcher

  The young spacer grinned. “Well, shit, sir, if I’d known you liked pain this much, I would have made a move sooner,” she joked. She made a crude splint from the bar and the wires, quickly lashing it to his leg to immobilize it.

  “It’s against regs,” he gasped as she pulled the binding tight. “But I’ll buy you a drink when we get out of this.”

  “Deal,” she said, standing up again.

  “What’s our status?” he asked, his voice sounding a little stronger.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. Dava turned to the console, which miraculously was still active. “Okay, according to this… oh no.”

  “What?” Marcos asked.

  “It’s gone,” she whispered. “The whole forward section. The bridge. The living compartments. Only the aft section is left.” Dava pressed a few controls. “Only a half dozen or so life signs.”

  “External sensors?”

  She pressed a few more controls. “It’s patchy and fuzzed out. But I’ve got two ships closing aft.”

  “Help me over there,” Marcos ordered. Dava turned and pulled the chair closer to the console, where he could reach. He helped by pushing with his good leg, scooting along the deck. He checked the console himself and then started entering commands on the controls, his hands moving so fast that Dava started to believe that the smoke was getting to her. She could hear the sound of fuel being cut off to a section nearby and the heat began to die down. “Closed the fuel lines to this section. The reactor can manage with only one main power conduit, and I think it’ll take care of the fires.”

  “What about those two ships?” she demanded, her voice starting to panic.

  “Hey!” he said, his voice calm, though clearly he was still in pain. “Get the extinguisher and try to put out the fire in here. I’ll take care of those ships.” She nodded, and moved over to get the gear. Exactly how I’m going to take care of those ships, I have no real idea. But I will take care of them.

  He checked the weapons feeds. Two Sierras left in the only undamaged launcher. The rail guns were either destroyed when the forward section was caved in, or else the ammo feeds were. The power lines from the reactor to the graser capacitors were severed, though there was enough juice left in the capacitors for one good shot from the portside weapon. Not much to work with.

  Marcos heard the spacer using the extinguisher and the ambient temperature in the room felt slightly cooler. Glancing over, he saw Ricks spraying down the last of the flames with the extinguisher foam. “Good work Able Spacer!” he shouted.

  “Thanks, sir!” she said, turning back to him she hustled back over. “What do we got?”

  He sighed. “Not much. One shot from the portside graser and two missiles. We might get one.”

  Dava lowered her head. “But we can’t get both.” Then her head came back up. “So get the one,” Ricks said, her face turning savage. “Blow the bastards apart. Kill the bastards that killed us.”

  Marcos nodded, reaching over and clapping his hand on her shoulder. “Just what I was thinking.” Then he turned back to the console, hesitating a moment and then began entering commands.

  The shuttle was moving now, as Verrikoth got the hang of flying it. He checked his scopes and smiled. Fury was dead in space now. Her engines had flared out and fire was belching out of a dozen huge breaches in the hull. Sensors were only showing about five or six people left alive aboard that ship, out of a crew of normally over a hundred. They were done. All it would take were a couple of missiles planted right in that thing’s hull. It was a shame really. Fury might be battered to scrap, but there were components aboard that were far advanced to anything that could be obtained out here in the Cluster. Republic tech was at least three or four generations ahead. But there was nothing for it. He couldn’t leave that ship out there. The survivors might somehow manage to hurt him. No, better to just kill them and be done with it.

  “Thiss iz Verrikoth,” he said in to the comms. “Hector, Ajax: open fire on the Republic sship. Finish it off.”

  He got acknowledgements on the comm and then sat back to watch. “Republic pigz,” he spat.

  Hector and Ajax, two boxy freighters moved up on the decapitated shark. Its brains and teeth were gone. It was little more than a flailing carcass now, not even aware it was dead. And it was already dead; it just needed to have its heart torn out to stop the flailing.

  Weapons ready, they accelerated to make a pass at the ship. Its power levels were barely registering; the surviving crew must have powered down so as not to overtax the undoubtedly damaged reactor. For all the good that would do for them.

  Suddenly, the crippled corvette cut loose with all the weapons it had left. The graser shot rocked the Hector’s forward shield while the two missiles crashed in just behind. The first hit weakened the modified freighter’s shields considerably but only for a second or two, but that was enough as the detonation of the missiles occurred right at that interval. The energy tore a hole through the shield and fountained through to the hull behind. Hector’s design, unfortunately for the crew, had the bridge directly at the front, and it wasn’t particularly armored. Hector was a cargo ship after all, outfitted with better weapons, engines and shields, it wasn’t intended to fight against a proper warship. The bridge was a small compartment enclosed by armor glass on three sides, which was a tough substance, but it couldn’t stand up to the detonation of two Sierra missiles bare centimeters away.

  The bridge armor glass shattered and what little metal was holding it together crumpled inward. Once it reached the hull of the ship the metal peeled backward as it tore apart. The atmosphere inside the ship ignited and secondary explosions rocked the interior of the ship. The crew was killed instantly, screaming as a wave of fire roared through all the compartments, none of which were sealed because the crew believed they were only moving in to mop up an already crippled ship. The ship suddenly began to roll on an uncontrolled vector, passing well below the wreck of the Fury.

  “Unbelievable,” Verrikoth said, watching the display. He’d fully expected that the corvette was dead in space and that his ships would simply come out and blast its corpse to bits. The destruction of the Hector was extremely annoying, however. He had expected to lose two ships destroying the Navy ship, but now three? Yes, he had others, but now he would get or build more.

  “Yeah!” Ricks said, jumping in the air and pumping her first. “Nailed the bastards! Great shot!”

  Marcos leaned back. “Yeah, it was,” he groaned, clutching his leg.

  Ricks turned back to him, concern on her face. “I could grab a medkit,” she said. “There’s probably a vial of combat heal in there you could use.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said, grinding his teeth against the pain. “We’re going to be dead in minutes anyway.”

  She leaned her rump against the console. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. And no more weapons.”

  Marcos grinned, though it was strained. “We have one more left.”

  Dava blinked in confusion. Then watching his eyes as he flicked them to his right, she smiled. “The reactor?”

  He nodded. “We can cause an overload. In fact, it’s already started.”

  Her eyes widened. “You already…”

  He nodded again. “I did. I already increased the power to maximum and disabled all the emergency cutoffs. The reactor’s already running at one hundred and five percent and the levels are climbing. Pretty soon the pressure is going to breach the core.”

  “How long?” she asked, her voice timid.

  “I don’t know. I can’t crank the valves open any further. Probably not long enough. No more than five minutes.”

  “They’re going to open fire at any second!” Dava said, hopping up, running a hand through her black hair which had stuck to her sweat soaked face.

  “I know,” Marcos replied. “I can’t get it to breach any faster using the systems.”

  She smiled. “I’ve always wondered what would happen if you shot a pulser at an
active reactor core while it was set for overload.”

  “You’ve always wondered that?” he asked, gritting his teeth, though he was clearly amused.

  “Yup,” she said, walking over to the corpse of one of the security officers and pulling the sidearm from the holster on his hip. Flicking off the safety, she raised the weapon, aiming it at the nearby reactor. She glanced back over at him. “I’m sorry we didn’t get that drink, sir.”

  “Yeah, me too. Have to say, Ricks, you are an interesting woman. I’m sorry we really didn’t talk before now.”

  Dava beamed at him. “I’m sorry too, sir. I have to say, I thought that being posted to the Fury was going to be boring.”

  Marcos chuckled and then gasped. “Never a dull moment.” He looked over at the console. “The second ship is closing.” He leaned his chin on his chest and closed his eyes against the pain. “So long, Ricks.”

  Dava stared hard at the reactor down the barrel of the pulser. “See you on the other side, sir.” And she fired. There was a blinding flash of light and for just an instant she felt an indescribable wave of searing agony and then nothing.

  An instant before Ajax opened fire, the reactor on the Fury exploded. A burst of energy washed over Ajax’s shields, while chunks of debris hammered her. She only suffered minor damage and altered course away from most of the debris. A minute later, Ajax’s captain was calling to Verrikoth on the shuttle. “Target destroyed.”

  “Acknowledged,” the pirate captain replied. Well, it was an expensive enterprise, but now he had taken care of the meddling lieutenant and his thrice cursed ship. However, it meant that the easy times were over. He had crossed a line, one that most likely would not be ignored. It would take a while for this incident to be discovered by Admiral Tandred, and of course he could deny it, but eventually, the Admiral would find out. And when he did, he would bring in more than just one corvette to handle the situation. He would bring in a fleet to the Cluster, he would find the one who had killed his people and destroyed one of his ships and then he would stomp that irritant into a squishy pulpy mass.

  Verrikoth knew that it was time to start pushing up his timetables and to get the other plans he had in motion moving a bit faster. For when the boot came crashing down, he would be damned if he would be beneath it when it fell.

  Book 3 – Hauling freight and Opening Moves

  Chapter 21

  Antares Grey put his arm behind his head, sighing in satisfaction. He had done his usual rounds through the various pubs and other establishments throughout the main city. He had even managed to find someone of interest, a woman who worked in the Ministry of Defense. She was lonely but even better, she was one of the operators of the planetary sensor grid. They’d talked and laughed over drinks, one thing led to another and they ended back at her place.

  The woman, Monique, lay naked and entwined with Grey on her bed, the sheet pulled up to their waists. She was running her fingers over his chest, humming slightly to herself. “So what are you doing here, anyway?” she asked suddenly.

  He chuckled, which was more of a rumble in his chest. “I thought that was obvious,” he said, looking at her, a wry smile on his face.

  She laughed, her face flushing with pleasure. “Well, I think you are certainly well deserving of your title of Chief.” Monique quivered with the memory. He laughed at her again. “But seriously, why are you here? On this world, I mean.”

  He grunted and looked up at the ceiling. “We’re chasing a ship. A cargo freighter. We’re concerned about it, though. It seemed to shoot up this system before it managed to get away.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. Apparently, they tried to steal a load of consignment they had brought. I guess it was for the ship in the orbital dock. They were really unhappy that the freighter wouldn’t cough it up.” She hummed again, shifting a bit. “They were just going to take the cargo and leave; I guess the government wasn’t going to let them take off with the consortium’s property. So they launched a bunch of the fighters to stop them.”

  “That sounds exciting,” Antares said, smiling a bit, stroking her black hair. “Bit of space piracy. And in your own backyard.”

  Monique shrugged. “We’ve had pirates before. But none as cowardly as these though. They just ran away. Though I guess it was the smart move, considering the crap they had for weapons.”

  Antares looked at her again. “But I heard they managed to smoke six of your fighters. If their weapons were crap, how’d they do that? Your pilots can’t be that bad.”

  “They’re not,” she admitted, humming slightly to herself. “The freighter had a starfighter of its own. Took out four of them and the big ship managed to get the other two. When the Ganges launched, they scooped up their fighter and ran as fast as they could for the hyper limit.” She sighed, snuggling closer. “Are you done pumping me for information now?”

  “Well I don’t know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I thought I would do a little more pumping.”

  She laughed and it was joyous. “You spent the night with me just to find out about that ship, didn’t you?”

  He sighed. “I always did like the smart ones. And no, that wasn’t the… only reason,” Grey said, bringing his lips to hers.

  “A starfighter?” Harth asked, several hours later. He was seated in his stateroom and Grey was seated at one of the small chairs, making his report. “What kind of fighter?”

  Grey shook his head. “Unknown, Commander. My contact didn’t know and it wasn’t in their database. What she could tell me was that it apparently wasn’t outfitted with any kind of missiles. At least, if it had any, it didn’t use any during the running fight to the hyper limit. And the freighter is in much better shape that we thought.” He passed a datacard across the table to Harth.

  Harth raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know how you got this information, Chief?”

  Grey smiled. “I’ll be happy to tell you, if you want, Skipper.”

  “Forget it. Give me the bad news.”

  “Well, I don’t have all the details, but from what I see on this,” he tapped the datacard, “Our target has fixed all of their hull issues. Looks like they patched it all up, got everything back to really close to factory spec, at least with the hull. Looks like their sublight drives are completely replaced as well.”

  “What the hell?” Harth asked, bewildered. “Where the hell did they get replacements for all of that?”

  “No idea, Captain,” Grey admitted. “My source didn’t know. All I have is what I could get from the sensor feeds. They were only running on passive so I don’t have anything about their internals. Maybe Ganges does.”

  “If they do, their Captain isn’t letting on.” Harth sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I think he’s embarrassed that they made a fool of him.”

  “Probably right, sir,” Grey admitted.

  He nodded. “Very good work, Chief. Any chance of getting any better info on our target?”

  Grey shook his head. “I doubt it, Skipper. Not from the locals anyway. Aside from boarding the Ganges and just taking what we need from their data banks, do you know of any way of getting the information from them?”

  Harth smiled then. “Normally, I’d send you and Phillips.”

  “All respect, Captain,” Grey said, grimacing, “I don’t think even the Lieutenant could crack them.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “A vibe I was getting from the locals,” Grey explained. “I really don’t think the crew from the cruiser like it here and as soon as their hyperdrive is ready, they’re getting out of this system. Fast.”

  “So why do you think they won’t help us?”

  “Because we’re Republic Navy, sir,” Grey told him, as though the answer was obvious. Perhaps it was. “They really don’t trust us. And if someone’s building warships out here, it’s because they intend on carving out their own little empire. I’m sure they would want to interact with us as little as possib
le.”

  Harth nodded, considering the implications of this.

  “Administrator Korneyev, this is Captain Eamonn. We’re going to be breaking orbit in the next twenty minutes. Is the Kara ready?”

  The lupusan gave a toothy smile. “Yes, Captain, the Kara is ready. As am I. The sooner we can get to Ulla-Tran, the quicker we can be on our way back home.”

  He nodded. “I’m a bit anxious to get underway myself. I’ll signal you when we actually break orbit and we’ll head out to the hyper limit together.”

  “Understood. Kara out.”

  Twenty minutes later, the two ships left orbit of the planet, beginning their long climb out of the sun’s gravity well for the hyper limit. During their stay here, one of the shuttles had gathered up the fuel collector and brought it and its helium 3 cargo back to the Grania Estelle and topped off her tanks. Morale was high on the Grania Estelle and even on the Kara it was an improvement over recent months. They were moving toward home.

  The Kara was still a hospital vessel, but her Administrator didn’t have the funds to purchase new equipment or medical supplies. The locals here in Yullankla weren’t up on giving things away, even for friends of the crew of the bulk freighter. They didn’t want shuttles from ships landing anywhere but at their cities, so the Kara’s people didn’t even have the opportunity to go prospecting for natural medicines in the wilderness. So for this trip, the crew was riding in an unused ship. The medics and doctors were unneeded anyway as the ship wasn’t carrying any patients. For the moment, all they were doing was hitching a ride back home. Once there, the ship could be restocked and then sent on its way to help in some other sort of medical emergency.