To Clan and Conquer (Clan Beginnings)
Page 18
“We hope,” Degorsk muttered just loud enough for Lidon to hear.
Lidon grinned in anticipation, his fingers already hovering over the shuttle’s controls. “Bring them in, Captain. We’ll make them curse the day their mothers’ wombs spat them out.” He watched the vid eagerly, barely able to contain his impatience to catch the first glimpse of the enemy.
The three were silent as they watched the vid relay that was pointed where the fleeing destroyer would be coming in. Continued monitoring told them the fast-flying fighter squadrons were all that kept the Tragooms from taking out Piras and their shipmates. Lidon practiced deep breathing exercises to keep himself from shattering under the stress of anticipation. It hurt to know a great battle was taking place and he was not part of it. Soon, though. If Piras could get here, if the destroyer wasn’t taken out by an unlucky shot from its pursuers, the Nobek would have his chance.
Finally, movement appeared. Small flashes against the blackness of space alerted them to the oncoming ships.
“Here they come.” Tranis was intent, with not a hint of uncertainty in his carriage. Committed in full to the plan, no matter how unlikely its success. Lidon’s mouth twitched in a smile.
He looked back at the equally avid Degorsk. Good. His Imdiko didn’t look afraid as he stood just behind them, watching the growing forms of the battling ships.
Lidon said, “Degorsk, you need to strap in. I have no idea if we’ll suffer a backwash of power. Plus, we might take a direct hit.”
Degorsk nodded, started to move, and winced. “Shit. I’m going to have to take a pain inhibitor after all if I’m going to sit down.”
“Do it,” Tranis said gently. “I want you secured and not bouncing all over the place.”
Degorsk went back to the bench where he’d been so beautifully displayed before, reaching into the medical pouch on his belt as he went. Lidon watched him to be sure he not only activated the field restraint but also the seat’s harness.
“Mother of All. Lidon, look at that thing.”
Lidon turned his attention back to the vid at Tranis’ soft exclamation. The destroyer was easily seen now, its oblong shape listing badly to one side, half its silvery metal surface blackened. The small darting objects ranged around it were the one- and two-man fighters, harrying two clumsily pieced-together vessels. One of the pursuers had the triangular main body of a Bi’isil hunter-killer with other parts cobbled on. The second was a crazed mishmash of mostly Yeknas technology with a few recognizable Adraf components and many unidentifiable others. It looked like something a mentally deficient five-year-old with psychotic leanings would build. Lidon had no doubt the bizarre contraption was a brutal adversary, however. Tragooms were evil geniuses when it came to putting together a fighting craft.
But what held the Nobek’s attention was the massive hulk catching up to the rest of the ships. It looked awkward as hell with a tube-like forward section followed by a fat cylindrical area. At the rear was a rectangular cube.
Lidon didn’t let the clumsy-looking Earther ship fool him for a moment, especially when he brought up the 360 degree vid capture of the vessel. Hatches to what had to be fighter bays circled the midsection of the battlecruiser. Specs showed the monstrous vehicle should have a complement of five times what the destroyer could carry. The telltale banks of plasma pulse launchers and battle-grade percussion blaster barrels covered the entire ship. Two spoked laser cannon arrays with articulated barrels that would allow the battlecruiser to attack an enemy from any direction were the deadly icing on a very nasty cake.
The monstrously huge battlecruiser was a madman’s dream of destruction and death. Earthers apparently loved weaponry with uncontained zeal. Lidon wasn’t surprised to discover he was aroused. He’d love to get on board that thing and play with its systems, outdated as they may be.
Behind them, Degorsk gasped. “That Earther ship is huge. I’ve never seen any ship that size before.”
“But it’s undermanned,” Lidon reminded him.
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Tranis peered at the diagnostic readouts he was receiving from the Kalquorian destroyer. He growled. “That’s a big hole in Piras’ defenses.”
Lidon agreed. “The Tragooms must have got some good shots in. I don’t think the destroyer can get behind the shielding before they hit him and finish the job.”
“Are they in our firing range yet?”
Their shuttle, like every one from Kalquor, had some weapons. In fact, the shuttle, having been on the Bi’isil border, had more weaponry than such vessels typically carried. It was still no match for any of the enemy ships bearing down on them.
Lidon told Tranis, “Just barely. Not close enough to do more than negligible damage. Commander, I must point out attracting the Tragooms’ attention might get Piras the time he needs to get behind the shielding, but a direct hit on us from all three enemy ships could wipe out all our the defenses.”
“I know, but we can’t hang our crew out to dry.”
Lidon considered their options and realized they had none. “No, I guess we can’t.”
“When you’re ready, Weapons Commander.”
Lidon sighted on the Bi’isil-based craft. It was the closest target and therefore the one he could put the greatest hurt on. He opened fire.
As he’d thought, the shuttle’s defensive-grade pulse-fire barely harmed the enemy ship. It certainly didn’t slow it one bit, but it broke off its attack on the destroyer to come straight at them.
“They know we’re here now,” he said, his tone dry.
Tranis barked, “Commander Tranis to Captain Piras, you need to make that ship move as fast as it will.”
“We’re all out, Commander.”
The destroyer was still out of the shield’s range. Meanwhile, the Tragooms were coming in fast.
Lidon said, “Incoming fire.”
Tranis’ fingers flew over his console. “Arming the shield. Let’s see if this works.”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll never know.” They’d be dead.
A second later, the Tragooms’ percussion blast shivered the entire shuttle. Degorsk made a yelping sound. Lidon winced as the shield they’d constructed flared bright with power absorption, blinding him for an instant. Then it coalesced in one spot just in front of the shuttle, the point where the shot had been aimed. Lidon had a moment to recognize it had been a kill shot before it streamed away, heading back on the path it had come in from. It hit the Tragoom ship head-on, knocking it back in a spinning arc. As it hurtled past the destroyer, the Kalquorian ship fired a barrage at it. A quarter of the enemy craft blew apart. The rest continued to tumble off, all its systems dark.
“Shield back down,” Tranis said. “Bring it in, Captain.”
The destroyer flew past them. As it did so, the Yeknas-based attacker came at the shuttle, sighting on them to fire.
“Shield up again.” Tranis sounded positively gleeful.
The Tragooms’ second ship fired, coming right at them as it did so. The resulting fire-back from the shield took the attacker out, shattering it into its too-many component pieces.
That left the behemoth Earther ship. As much as Lidon loved a fight in which he was the unquestioned underdog, he did feel relief as new readouts confirmed Tranis’ report: “Battlecruiser is breaking off and running.”
Degorsk had been right. The ‘cruiser could have demolished the shielding if it had leveled only half of its weaponry at them. Apparently there were not enough men onboard it to man that many systems.
Piras’ voice, finally letting exhaustion creep in, spoke over the com. “Chasing after it would be suicide. A glorious way to go, but it won’t serve the Empire one bit.”
He was right. Even without all its systems manned, the Earther vessel would still demolish the stricken destroyer in a fight.
“As the Book says, ‘all a hero’s bravery is meaningless in a pointless battle’. Besides, we may get another chance at it.” Lidon hoped so. “W
eapons Commander to Weapons Subcommander; set long-range tracking to that ship’s energy signature for later retrieval.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Piras spoke again. “I’d like to keep that security barrier in place, so we’ll send a shuttle to fetch your crew, Commander Tranis.” Then, with great respect he added, “Excellent work.”
Lidon exchanged a look with the other two. Tranis raised an eyebrow and Degorsk grinned at him. The next meeting with the captain was going to be interesting.
Chapter 11
Two days of frantic work commenced to repair the destroyer. Everyone had their hands full. Tranis’ duties included getting the colonists back to Wetor, bolstering the strength of their underground storage units in case they were needed for emergency shelter, and training them on how to operate the shuttle’s shielding mechanism in case the Tragooms came back for another round. Artmak and the rest flatly refused to abandon their colony, so such measures were required.
Degorsk had quite a few casualties to deal with following the fight with the Tragooms. He put in long hours with the rest of his staff, treating injuries and performing surgeries. Despite all of Lidon’s duties, the Nobek kept an eye on the doctor to make sure he wasn’t emotionally overwhelmed. Degorsk seemed to be handling everything in stride, cracking unending bad jokes and running his busy department with astounding ease.
Lidon had his hands full with getting the destroyer’s engines repaired. He ran endless diagnostics and drills on ship’s weaponry. Having seen the Earther battlecruiser they would soon be chasing after, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
With the emergency they operated under, it was some time before the three men were summoned to Piras’ office for a discussion. They stood before the captain’s desk, Lidon and Degorsk ranged on either side of Tranis. Piras sat in his chair, tapping a finger on the surface of his workspace.
He spent long seconds looking at them before finally speaking. “I am putting in for commendations for all three of you. First Officer Tranis and Weapons Commander Lidon, your ruse at the colony which destroyed two enemy ships and saved ours was brilliant. I cannot stress enough my gratitude for your work. And Doctor, Commander Tranis already put in for you to be recognized for your efforts at the mining colony. I have also noted the long hours you’ve worked in treating our wounded following the fighting. Despite the infraction you committed that led to disciplinary action here on Wetor, your excellent work otherwise deserves due accolades. Well done, all three of you.”
Lidon didn’t twitch a muscle. Piras’ compliments were effusive, utterly unlike him. He waited for the other shoe to drop as the captain consulted vid reports.
Piras looked at them again. “We will have the destroyer back up to full strength in less than an hour. Weapons Commander, your department reports we are still tracing the signal from that Earther battlecruiser.”
Lidon answered, “It continues to fly deeper into Joshadan space. It appears to be heading for an area with a large gas giant. The only occupied place in the vicinity is one of the planet’s moons, which is named Phescxo. My understanding is the Joshadans have an experimental colony there, something to do with primitive farming practices.”
“Any sign of distress from them?”
“None. We don’t dare try to contact them either for fear the Tragooms become aware of them and attack.”
“Or take hostages,” Tranis added.
Piras nodded. “We’ll have to hope the Tragooms don’t notice them there.”
He stood and turned away, staring at the wall full of stellar ship models he’d painstakingly built. Lidon knew there were hundreds of hours invested in those intricate pieces, pieces Piras had designed himself. Beautiful work. Once upon a time, Lidon had meditatively watched his captain as Piras put the small crafts together. After only a few days, it seemed as if that life had belonged to another man.
After a few moments of silence, Piras turned back to them, his expression resolute. “My behavior on Wetor towards the three of you was inexcusable. I let personal issues cloud my judgment. My only comfort is that your defense strategy was so effective against the enemy and allowed us to save this colony. If you decide to cite me for my foolishness, I will admit to everything.”
Lidon immediately looked to Tranis. He noted Degorsk did the same, and he started. They were acting as if the first officer was their clan Dramok, the man who spoke for the group. It was so natural as to be frightening.
And just like them, Tranis fell into the clan role. He looked at Lidon. His mouth dry, the Nobek gave a slight shake of his head. Tranis turned his head to gaze at Degorsk. Another small negative shake.
Tranis turned to Piras. “We have no intention of filing complaints, Captain. The situation resolved to a satisfactory conclusion. We wish to go about our duties with no further mention of the incident.”
Piras’ expression remained stoic, but Lidon saw his shoulders relax a little in relief. “I appreciate your generosity. You may resume your posts.”
The three men bowed and chorused, “Captain.”
As Lidon turned to leave, Piras’ quiet voice reined him back. “Lidon, one final word, if I may?”
Tranis shot the Nobek a quick look. His mouth tightened, but he walked out of the office with Degorsk. Lidon wondered if it had been on the first officer’s tongue to demand Piras what he wanted with him. As if he was Lidon’s Dramok. He thought maybe that had been the case.
As soon as the door closed, leaving them alone, Piras met Lidon’s gaze. “I’m wholeheartedly sorry. It’s not easy to be cast aside after so many years. I was hurt. Embarrassed.”
Lidon could understand that. He didn’t want to carry a grudge, not against a man he’d shared so much with. “I’ve known for some time I wasn’t able to give you enough as a Nobek. I’m sorry I let it go on the way I did.”
Piras nodded, grimaced an approximation of a smile. “Well, in any case, I retract my offer to clan. I hope you find happiness.”
“And I, you.”
“Dismissed, Weapons Commander.”
Lidon bowed. “Captain.”
Feeling as if a massive weight had rolled off his back, Lidon left for the bridge.
* * * *
Tranis stood at his station, feeling very good about things. The tension between Lidon and Piras had eased considerably. Tranis himself was getting a commendation. Frequent checks on Degorsk had shown the Imdiko was seeming to handle the many injured crewmen without undue stress. The destroyer was back to full functionality and they had left Wetor behind hours ago. Sure, they were chasing an overwhelmingly armed enemy that may or may not be the harbinger of a full on invasion force, but Kalquorian Command had been alerted to the potential problem. A portion of the fleet was on its way to Joshadan space.
All things considered, life was going quite well. Well enough that the Dramok was contemplating getting together with Lidon and Degorsk at his first opportunity. Not just for sex, though that was certainly on the menu. Having shared so much with the pair, Tranis was curious to know more about the men themselves. Maybe they could have dinner and spend some time talking about things that mattered, the past events that had shaped the philosopher-warrior and passionate jokemaker.
Lidon’s voice interrupted Tranis’ thoughts. “Small craft in our flight path, Captain. It’s Joshadan and flying erratically.”
Tranis consulted his computers. The destroyer’s sensors showed a very small craft, one that wouldn’t normally be flying in deep space. It was suited more for small jumps between planets and moons in close proximity to each other.
Piras asked, “Are we in communications range?”
Tranis said, “Just barely. Com Lieutenant, boost the signal and make contact.”
“Put it on vid if a visual is available,” Piras ordered.
At first Tranis thought there was no visual, then a weak signal flitted on the sensors. He tapped his computer, enhancing the signal strength, and brought the vid up.
He was st
artled by the sight of humanoids that were not the brightly furred Joshadans he’d expected to see. The aliens almost appeared to be short-haired Kalquorians, though there were substantial differences beyond their unfashionable hair length. Their coloring was the first piece of strangeness. The four men staring back at him were of varying skin that ranged from pinkish-pale to deep ebony. Body structure was the other major distinction. With the exception of one man with wide shoulders and chest that strained his gray shirt, they were devoid of the defined musculature that came naturally to Tranis’ race. The pinkish man in front was spare, almost reed-thin. Another man in the background was very nearly round. The last man fell somewhere in between.
Tranis didn’t have much time to contemplate these almost-Kalquorians as the one in front began speaking gibberish at them. His odd brown eyes with round pupils were wide with surprise or panic.
Tranis’ fingers flew over his computer, though his gaze remained riveted on the aliens. “Translators are on line, Captain.”
His superior’s voice boomed with authority. “I am Captain Piras of the Kalquorian fleet. Can you understand me?”
The slender pink man turned to the ebony-skinned one to his right. “Is there a translator on this sardine can?”
Tranis frowned. The translator hadn’t been able to decipher the foreign word ‘sardine’. And the aliens couldn’t understand a single word Piras was saying.
He said, “Com Lieutenant, tie our translator into their com link.”
“Translator tied in, Commander.”
Piras tried once more. “You are aboard a Joshadan ship but you are not Joshadan. The Kalquorian Empire protects the territory of Joshada. Identify yourselves.”
Pink Man turned back to the vid. “Oh good, that’s got it. Hello, Kalquorians. I’m senior pilot George Huberts, part of the Joshada-Earth farming co-op on Phescxo.”
Earthers. Tranis looked the men over carefully. So these were the aliens that built such insanely huge ships armed to take out entire colonies. The same race many wondered were Kalquor’s fabled Lost Tribe. This was the species members of the Galactic Council hoped were breeding compatible with the rapidly disappearing Kalquorians.