“You will get your chance, Captain.” The pirate captain paused. “And from now on, refer to me as Lord.”
Skygexx’s antennae curled and angled to the sides at forty-five degree angles. “Of course, Lord. We serve at your command.”
“Excellent.”
Things started moving quickly here in Tyseus once Nemesis was launched. Tyler and Hestian took command of their respective ships and the ships started on exercises. Verrikoth was determined that his flagship would have a well-trained crew, something he’d learned from fighting the Republic. With far less firepower than he’d had, despite the technical edge, their much more accurate gunnery had turned the tide. Now, he was going to be the one with that edge. He didn’t want to tie up the construction dock to upgrade his ship’s weapons with Republic gear, but he would be damned sure that his gunners knew their business.
Plans were simple: build up and train his standing forces, and get another of the light cruisers built. Cierre and Ajax had unloaded their precious cargo to the construction dock, and the prisoners were brought to the dock as well. They were given their instructions and a very nice shock through their implants. Very quickly they were compliant and ready to work. The implant disruptors were turned up to their maximum setting, blocking all implant access so that they could play no games with computer access. All but their leader, Commander Saul Truesdell. His implants were blocked from wireless access, but Verrikoth made sure that his manual access port in his hand was still active. However, the man was informed that any funny business, or if any of the replicators suddenly melted down, that his colleagues and friends would start their journey to the ends of their lives, their long, agonizing journeys. After Verrikoth had one low-ranked crewman taken out of the line and electrocuted to the point of unconsciousness, Truesdell broke. He was ready to help and Verrikoth made sure that he understood; Truesdell needed to be happy and compliant. The poor crewman was taken to the infirmary and treated for electro-shock trauma.
The databases that his people had managed to get their hands on were worth their weight in precious metal. They contained a great deal of information on tech upgrades, Republic systems, even specs for ships. The engineers took this information and the new access to the industrial replicators to start fabbing parts for the new light cruiser. One of his ships, the corvette Korokat, was outfitted with a portable refinery and sent off, heading for the shipyard at Hecate, also with the specs for the light cruiser. Verrikoth decided that both this yard and the one in Hecate would start construction on the powerful vessels, deciding that having another ship ready in six months would go a good ways toward continuing his good relations with the people there, as he would be pumping credits into their economy.
The engineers were confident that they could have another cruiser up and ready for space in four months. With the Republic technicians and their replicators assisting, this new light cruiser would be more powerful and more advanced than Ganges, which would annoy Hestian. That alone was reason enough for Verrikoth to approve construction.
The techs were a week into construction, laying out the keel for the new ship when the Sessilan, Toroj, and Fletcher’s Dolly arrived in system. Verrikoth was in the middle of another gunnery exercise, with both Ganges and Nemesis shooting up a pair of asteroids. The pirate lord was looking for tight groupings of shots, the same as it would be on the firing range for hand weapons. Turbolaser bolts lanced out from both ships, stippling the large rocks, all gunners on both ships trying their best to group their shots together. The pirate lord had promised to break open the kegs of beer they took from Byra-Kae and find out if the Republic actually did make good drinking stock. That motivated everyone to new levels of excellence.
The comm-tech turned to Verrikoth, seated on his command chair on the ship’s Flag Bridge. “Captain, I have an incoming transmission from Sessilan. It’s Leader Mogrin.”
“Put him through.” Verrikoth turned to the display as it activated at his chair, bringing up Mogrin’s face. “Good to ssee you again, Leader. I’m glad to ssee my sshipss are sstill in good working order.”
“Yes, Lord Verrikoth,” Mogrin agreed. “There was a low risk when we were in Heb, a small convoy of ships came in from Seylonique.”
The zheen tapped his fingers together. “A convoy?”
“Two freighters, Lord. One big bulk freighter and a smaller freighter, a bit bigger than Fletcher’s Dolly.”
“That iz all?”
“No, Lord. There was another ship with them. A warship, bigger than Sessilan, but smaller than Ironhide. I don’t know the name of the classification.” He looked away from the vid pickup and then an image popped up, splitting the screen. “That is the ship, Lord. As you can see, there are a lot of weapons.” Text popped up at the bottom of the image. “And the power output is high for a ship that size. They’re running on refined helium 3, just like the Republic ships are.”
“Our sshipss are az well.”
Mogrin nodded. “Yes, Lord, but we’re only just changing over. And with the state of our refinery here, we can’t stockpile a huge reserve.” It was true. As Duncan Harth had noted when the Legacy had come through this system several months ago, the ancient He3 refinery was barely functioning. It was producing perhaps 8% of its total capacity, but there was no way to increase it. The machinery was old, corroded and decrepit, most of it was damaged beyond repair and the workforce for the refinery consisted of slave labor. It was dangerous, dirty work and Verrikoth used it for punishment detail, despite how necessary the fuel was becoming.
“That iz true.” His antennae straightened. “But you ssound az though there iz more to your tale.”
“Yes, Lord, there is. When the ships departed Heb, we followed them, discreetly I assure you. I sent Toroj in behind them and they followed them to Seylonique. They deployed a Republic spy satellite on highest stealth configuration and observed the system. And Lord,” he said, his eyes lighting up, a smile spreading over his face, “there is so much there. They have space infrastructure like I haven’t seen since Ulla-tran. Better, really.”
“Ssince Ulla-tran?”
“Yes, Lord. There’s a huge He3 refinery, a gas mine really, but they’re bringing up millions of liters of fuel. There are two huge tank farms of fuel, one by the mine at the gas giant and another one at a shipyard complex they have at one of the Lagrange Points. Plus there is a large stockpile of refined minerals being held in space just at the edge of the asteroid belt.”
Verrikoth was nodding now. This was sounding promising and with his growing pool of warships, he was going to need that fuel. This was looking more and more like a system that needed to be brought into the fold, under Verrikoth’s protection… with some appropriate compensation, of course. Then he sobered slightly. Too many ships had fallen to the Republic in recent months. He could not afford to go in guns blazing and lose any more. “What are the ssysstem defensez?”
Mogrin sighed. “I did see a few ships,” he admitted. “I’m sending a full readout on everything we saw.”
Verrikoth nodded as the information came in. “Get in ssysstem az quickly az possible. I want a full debrief.” A battlecruiser? This was a system ripe for plucking, but if they had a battlecruiser acting as watchdog, then there was no possibility, even with Ganges and Nemesis operating at increased efficiency. This would require some thought and some serious planning, assuming he even decided to go forward with this.
“I am well pleased with the itemz you collected from Heb,” Verrikoth said to Leader Mogrin, who was seated across from him in the captain’s ready room. “It appearz that while thiss world iz not az advanced az Tysseuss or Ulla-tran or thiss Sseylonique, there iz enough there to make it worth our while. I am particularly pleased with the sshuttle you acquired. It iz of good quality.” There in fact were more shuttles, but Mogrin had explained why he had left those behind, the locals needed enough transport to be able to gather up enough of the He3 from their collector to make sure that their reactors were topped up so that
their industries were producing. As much as it irked him to lose those shuttles, it made sense. If the locals couldn’t keep things going then the tribute would lessen. He wanted payment and fear, but he didn’t want to bankrupt them. People who were desperate and flat broke made stupid decisions and, more simply, they couldn’t pay. He’d let that sit for now. But he would be monitoring the situation there.
“Thank you, Lord,” Mogrin replied, ducking his head slightly.
“And I have conssidered what you have brought back about Sseylonique. It iz a rich prize and we could use the materialz, the fuel and the laborerz here. I want to hear your thoughtss about thiss.” He gestured to the man to speak.
Mogrin swallowed hard. To his knowledge, this was completely unprecedented. Lord Verrikoth was well known for keeping his own counsel. He rarely consulted with anyone, and when he did it was usually only his flag captain, or perhaps the captains of his capital ships. Commander Hestian would make sense in this role, but not Mogrin. A corvette captain? Sure the ship was a Republic capture and had advanced systems, was fast and had some teeth. But he could see that the Captain was waiting.
“Well, Lord, as you say, there are a great number of resources that we could use. But they do have some system defenses that should concern us.” The zheen was looking at him with those compound eyes and Mogrin felt as though the collar on his shipsuit was tightening somehow. He fought down the urge to try and stretch the collar and continued. “That battlecruiser in particular. We didn’t detect any other heavy capital ships like that one, but we did find a handful of corvettes and two of the larger warships like the one we saw in Heb. They also have at least one squadron of starfighters, and it’s stationed out at the gas mine.” He frowned, again fighting the urge to stretch his collar. “I didn’t recognize the fighters, and there wasn’t anything in the Republic database.” Mogrin consulted a datapad, pressing a few keys. “I apologize, Lord, I was just checking. There’s nothing like that in our databases.”
“Sso an unknown fighter classs.” Verrikot nodded slightly, considering what he was being told. He pulled up a display on the console in his desk. Checking on his own fighters, he saw that there were a dozen egg-shaped Muon-class fighters, as well as ten of the boxy Sepulcre-class fighters. That certainly wouldn’t be enough. The Republic heavy cruiser had torn through his ships and fighters as though they weren’t even there. Against a battlecruiser, which was even larger and more impressive than a heavy cruiser? Having twenty-five fighters wouldn’t be nearly enough, especially since the Muons were light on offensive punch. “It is something we will have to look into.” He gestured for Mogrin to continue.
“Well, Lord, it is my understanding that we wouldn’t want to go in and crush the system defenses.” He swallowed and the pirate lord nodded. “Well, as I see it, the biggest threat is from the battlecruiser. We need to draw it out of position, or wait until it is away from where we are going to strike.”
“That iz obviouss.” The pirate captain’s tone was scathing. “I have losst too many sshipss in recent monthss to throw them away in a futile and wasteful attack.”
“Of course, Lord, of course,” Mogrin said, his face flushing in embarrassment. “But even if we could hit just the gas refinery and the mining station, there’s more than enough just floating out in space. If we took the bulk of our ships in there, neutralized their defense corvettes there, we could get the goods and be out of there in short order. If Ganges or Nemesis or both were there, we could take down those corvettes with minimal damage to our own forces. Once they were down, we could send in the freighters to collect the swag and be out of there before they could affect a proper response.”
“I will conssider it, Leader. Return to your sship. I expect you to continue drilling your crewz in tactical exercizez.” At the slight frown from Mogrin, Verrikoth went on. “Our fightss with the Republic have proven to me that advanced technology providez an edge, it iz sskill and discipline that will rule the day. I will not have my fleet turn into an undisciplined mob which fallz upon itsself in terror at the firsst ssign of opposition.”
Mogrin grimaced. “My Lord, that is hardly fair. We are not members of the Republic, but your crews are strong and experienced. They would benefit from some gunnery and tactical drills, yes, but we are not weak and sniveling curs. We are warriors!”
“Yess, you are correct, Leader. You and the otherz under my command have proven their worth and their ferocity in battle.” Verrikoth almost sounded contrite. “My wordz were harsh. And I will conssider your plan. You may go.” He waved a hand in dismissal and Mogrin was on his feet and with a hasty salute, he exited. Verrikoth reached over to a box on his desk and pulled out a handful of tube grubs, roughly ten centimeters long, gray worms. He held one to his mouthparts and quickly devoured the morsel, then pulled up a display showing the status of his ships and stations here in the system. It was a strong force, he had to admit, but against a battlecruiser, seven corvettes and two frigate-sized ships, and at least one squadron of twenty fighters, it would not be enough. Compared to his own forces: a heavy cruiser, a light cruiser, a destroyer, four corvettes (three now, with Korokat out on the way to Hecate) and the Republic cutter, as well as his twenty-two fighters and five armed freighters, it would be a tough fight. And as Mogrin had mentioned, he didn’t want to have his ship chewed apart by the local self defense forces. The whole point of a raid into Seylonique would be to fill his coffers, not to run his fleet through a buzzsaw.
The only part of this that made the idea of going to Seylonique palatable was the fact that their forces were spread out across the system whereas his could be concentrated. Three of the corvettes and one fighter squadron were stationed out rotating between the gas giant and the asteroid belt. The two frigates were at the shipyard at the Lagrange point and the remaining corvettes were located at the habitable planet. The battlecruiser was out on a roving patrol, moving between all of the real estate in space. They were spread too far out to effectively cover one another, even at maximum acceleration it would take days for any of the local forces to get to any of the other positions.
Verrikoth nodded to himself, the beginnings of a plan starting to form. All would depend on the location of the battlecruiser when his forces arrived in the system, but this might work. There might be a few wrinkles to iron out, but this could work.
Gokon was in his cabin, attempting to get some sleep when the comm panel beeped, jarring him awake. He sat up, pressing the control on the side of his bunk to activate the comms. “Yes?”
“Sorry to wake you, sir,” the com-tech on the other end of the line replied. “But I have Captain Verrikoth on the line for you.”
His antennae went completely straight and he stood up. Stepping over to the nearby desk, he activated the display. “Put him through.” A second later, the scarred zheen’s face appeared on the screen. “Lord Verrikoth. What can I do for you?” A call in the middle of ship’s night? Of course, when a call came through from the pirate lord, you answered.
“Gokon. You will take Toroj to Esselon-Moor,” Verrikoth ordered. Esselon-Moor was a nearby star system, only one short jump away. It was home to a hot, swampy jungle planet, barely habitable by most species, in an early stage of development. The atmosphere was heavy with sulphur, and humans couldn’t breathe it for more than a few minutes without breather mask. It was also the home to one an ally of Verrikoth’s, the Dog Soldiers; a group of lupusan raiders that operated northward of these systems but occasionally would fight under Verrikoth’s banner. They were led by Typhon, a fearsome midnight-black male lupusan, who was as vicious as he was cunning. “You will make contact with General Typhon and invite him to join uss on an attack on Sseylonique. We will need hiz sshipss and ssoldierss and I will need them now. I will allow a twenty-five percent cut of the sspoilss to him and hiz troopss.”
“Do I have any leeway, Lord?” Gokon asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “I have met the General once before and I remember how much he values
his troops and ships. I am concerned of how much room I will have to… haggle.”
“Haggle!” Verrikoth raged, hissing angrily, his mouthparts writhing. “I am bringing him into this battle. He can accept what I offer or he can rot!”
“Lord Verrikoth, I meant no disrespect, nor to incur your wrath, but we both know the General, Lord. We know he thinks very highly of his soldiers and their prowess. I suspect he will demand a larger cut.”
Verrikoth took a long moment to calm down, realizing Gokon’s point. Typhon was a powerful leader and a terrifying pirate. His Keberen Grenadiers were a former regiment of Federation soldiers, long since “retired” from the active military, known for taking missions in the most hostile, brutal environments and delivering maximum casualties to the enemy. On his last mission for the Federation military, some seventy years ago, his men had stolen the assault transport vessel and the Illuyanka, the light cruiser assigned to provide support for his men from orbit. On a series of raids on shipping and planets here in the Cluster since his retirement, Typhon had captured three additional ships, corvettes perfect for raiding, as well as a pair of medium freighters he’d had upgraded for his use. He had set up shop on the moderately uncomfortable world at Esselon-Moor, a world that would allow for training for his lupusan soldiers in its rugged environment.
“You are mosst likely correct, Trammen,” Verrikoth replied. “He will be arrogant and he will demand more for what he believez he iz owed. Very well. Up to a third of the sspoilss. Nothing more.”
Trammen Gokon nodded. “Very good, my Lord. I will extend the summons. Where are we to meet? Back here?”
“No,” Verrikoth said coldly, though his tone was not because of Gokon, it was because of the spoils that would be lost to the lupusan General. “You will meet at these coordinatess at the edge of Sseylonique sspace, to galactic north of the ssysstem. Toroj az well az the General’z forcez need to be there in forty-sseven dayz. That iz when I will have all of my forcez there and we will sstrike. Undersstand, Trammen,” he said, addressing Gokon by his rank, “That regardlesss of what General Typhon ssayz, you must bring your sship to those coordinatess at the appointed time.”
First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 Page 62