by Randy Dyess
“You’d think that, after spending time on that station as hostages,” Captain Moore said after taking his seat, “that group would be happy just to be alive. It’s only going to be six hours of flight time. There’s no reason to redo the Castle to cruise ship standards for such a short trip.”
“Your problem, now, Captain Moore,” Dakota said with a huge grin.
“I talked to First Sergeant McCoons during the flight here,” Captain Moore said. “I told him that he and his men deserved medals for what they did.”
“How did he respond?” Dakota asked.
“He said this type of battle was what most of his men signed up for. After years of nothing but training and guard duty, they finally had a chance to act like real marines and not just as security guards for Terran Naval officers. He praised his men and said the dead and injured were the ones who deserved medals, but he knew they wouldn’t get any. I did harass Commander Wekesa enough that I think some of the marines will get promotions for their actions.”
“At least that’s something,” Dakota said. “What is your company going to do with the captured pirates?”
“Send them to one of our prisons and work them to death, like we always do,” Captain Moore responded.
“You would think the chance of going to prison would keep them from becoming pirates.”
“You didn’t grow up on a corporate planet. Believe it or not, being a pirate is a better life than what they used to face.”
******
“All accounted for, Captain,” First Sergeant McCoons said into the Sullivan’s Pride communications channel. “Demo teams have finished wiring the station and are clear and about to dock with the Sullivan’s Pride. I have the trigger for the demo. Who should I send it to?”
“You deserve the honor,” Captain Moore responded quickly.
“I agree,” Dakota said. “Your people deserve to finish the job they started.”
First Sergeant McCoons looked over to a young, wounded corporal and handed him the demo trigger. “Send them to Hell.”
The young corporal grinned and pushed the trigger. A large explosion brightened the nearby space as the old asteroid mining station exploded into thousands of fragments. The crews of the task force and the marines watched as the fragments drifted toward the asteroid field. The station and the bodies of the pirates they had left onboard would remain part of the Archimedes Asteroid Field.
Newsletter
I want free stuff!
I want to see stuff no one else can!
Did you say special offers on newly published material!
Get all of the above by signing up for our newsletter. We'll let you know when new material is published and give you a chance to get it for a special price. Our newsletter will also feature unpublished material - you get to see some of the material as it is being written for the next episode or novel.
Receive a complimentary copy of the prequel story Battle At Pirate's Bayby signing up on our mailing list: lazydogpublishing.com/Newsletter
Want to hear about new releases? Sign up (www.LazyDogPublishing.com)for my mailing list and get an inside track to my next release.
Battle At Pirate’s Bay: A Spider Wars’ Prequel
Copyright: Randy Dyess
Published: 5th February 2017
Publisher: Lazy Dog Publishing
The right of Randy Dyess to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
About The Author
I've spent my years in a variety of jobs - once I decided to stop going to school after spending five years 'trying' to get some kind of degree. I've worked crappy jobs at alarm companies, liquor stores, grocery stores. I've spent time in the U.S. Army until I messed up a knee and was medically discharged. I worked for a few years as a deputy sheriff basically fighting inmates at the local country maximum security jail. Worked with the state of Texas at their food stamp office (very short job).
Went on (after a short time being ill and not working) work for an insurance company reconciling the membership of company insurance plans. Left that job for the real estate racket (sold one house in the first year and still made the same amount of money as the insurance job.) Brushed up old skills and found a job working computers right before the Y2K thing. Studied my butt off and learned how to be a database administrator and did that for over twenty years. Now, I work as an information security officer specializing in database security. An interesting role which always keeps me on my toes.
Thanks for reading my stuff and I do enjoy constructive criticism about my writing. I cannot get better if all you do is give me a bad review without saying why. The same goes for the good reviews – tell me why you liked it so I can repeat it the next time.
First Contact
Spider Wars’ Book 1:
Randy Dyess
Chapter 1
Commander Qugnyt stared at the small display screen on the bridge of the Quant patrol vessel, Druggette, as if doing so would make the ship go faster. Thirty thousand cycles had passed and the Quant were finally back to their home world, Quantum. Commander Qugnyt and his three-ship squad were now responsible for the protection of the thousands of researchers picking the planet apart for clues about their ancestors.
Commander Qugnyt had heard the stories: the Quants had been a peaceful people who focused on growth and development, instead of war. For thousands of cycles, they had never known anyone else inhabited the stars. Like most young species, they’d thought they were alone. It wasn’t until their first trip to the fifth planet of their home system that they had met the Feebies. For hundreds of thousands of cycles, the Feebies had protected the Quants and dozens of other species from the horrors of galactic war. They’d allowed the Quants to develop in their own way and on their own time, and once they’d developed space travel, the Feebies had been there to guide them.
The Quants had enjoyed four thousand cycles of peaceful interactions with other species scattered across their isolated part of the galaxy. A strong confederation had been created, and the Quants and other members of the confederation flourished under the protection of the Feebies—until the Syndicate moved in.
The Syndicate and the Feebies had then gone to war while the Quant and other members of the confederation watched and waited. They’d been scientists, artists, and diplomats—they’d known nothing of war. In fact, they’d been shocked that species would fight each other and not simply work out their differences in a peaceful manner. Despite this, they’d helped the Feebies as much as they could with weapons development.
They had watched as Feebie ships left their orbits around confederation worlds and disappeared. Feebie space stations had been abandoned and ambassadors and scientists had left their planets to never be heard from again. The Quants had been told that the war had ended and a treaty was signed between the Feebies and the Syndicate. The Syndicate had gained control over all of the planets in the confederation.
“Helm, make sure we approach from the sun side and put the moon between us and the planet.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Commander Qugnyt looked down at the book he had carried as a child—all Quants were required to carry and read it at least once a day. Simply called The
Syndicate, the book told the history of the thirty thousand cycles of Syndicate rule. The commander turned to the beginning and once again started reading the history of his people. He smiled at the thought of being part of the expedition that would rewrite Quant history. Both he and his entire crew believed the information contained by their old home world would allow them to rebuild their society; thirty thousand cycles of suffering would come to an end after they learned the secrets of the Feebies.
“Commander,” the Druggette’s helm officer said.
“Report.”
“We’ve entered the Quantum system. We should be over Quantum in twelve divisions.”
“Very good,” Commander Qugnyt replied. “I’m going to be in my quarters. Let me know when we are two divisions out.”
“Yes, Commander.”
He closed his book and walked off the bridge, toward his quarters. Thirty thousand cycles, he thought. The Syndicate hadn’t arrived with open arms and hearts when the Feebies had pulled out. In fact, the main species of the Syndicate hadn’t arrived, at all. Instead, they’d sent the Freack.
No Quant knew what the Syndicate looked like, only that they had sent the Freack after the Feebies left and killed or captured every Quant they could find. Planet after planet had been harvested, colonies on moons and asteroids had been attacked, and billions of Quants and trillions of confederation members had been taken. The Feebies had never told the Quants where the Syndicate’s empire was or where the captured Quants might have been taken. No, they had just pulled out and left them to their fate. Although the book told of the Feebie library and technology centers on Quantum, no one had the time to research them for answers thirty thousand cycles ago.
After the few survivors, had fled into the desolate reaches of nearby star systems, they’d had to learn to survive. They’d tried to head into the Feebie systems but had been told to leave, for the treaty didn’t allow them to help the members of the confederation. Some Quants had tried to flee from the Feebie systems but had soon found that the confederation space was surrounded by two hostile empires. Only a few empty systems had been in the border zone between the two empires, but the Feebies hadn’t let them go there, either.
Since they’d had nowhere to go, they’d hid. Science and cargo vessels had made their way to remote space stations that had been abandoned by the Feebies. Some refugees had made their way to small, isolated moons, and the nearly-extinct Quants had pulled together and tried to rebuild their species.
“Commander to the bridge!”
“On my way,” Commander Qugnyt replied. It hasn’t been nearly enough divisions for us to be near the home world, yet, he thought as he left his quarters and put his book back into his pocket.
“Commander!” Came the shout as he entered the bridge of his ship. “We’re picking up strange readings three million lengths away. We can’t identify them.”
“What do they look like?” Commander Qugnyt asked as he stepped up to the sensor console.
“At first, we thought they were asteroids, but they seem to be moving in unison. It’s not the random movement you usually find in an asteroid field. Plus, they are moving as a unit into the system. We’ve not detected this asteroid field before.”
The commander was silent. Alarm bells were ringing in his head, but he didn’t know why. It came to him, then. “Battle Stations!” he shouted. “Incoming Freack harvest fleet.”
The rest of the remaining bridge crew froze. “Freack?” someone questioned. “Our calculations don’t show them to be due for another thousand cycles. It’s too early for them!”
After the Freack had harvested the Quant systems, they had left large animals behind. For the first thirty thousand cycles, the Quants had watched their worlds return to their wild states with large herds of reptiles roaming them. No one understood why the Freack had left them on the planets, but Commander Qugnyt believed the animals were used as a food source.
For three thousand cycles, the Quants had recovered from the Freack harvest and started to reclaim their worlds from the wilderness when the Freack had come back. They’d harvested the large reptiles and any Quant unlucky enough to be seen. Nine times, they’d come back, and each time, they’d wiped out all the Quant colonies they could find. For thirty thousand cycles, the Quants had hidden and tried to survive. Their species never returned to its former glory, however, from when the Feebies had protected them.
“Battle Stations!” Commander Qugnyt repeated. “I don’t care if the Freack are not due—they’re here, anyway.”
The battle alarm sounded throughout the ship and Quants headed to their stations. The Druggette and her sister ships were small vessels, but they were heavily armed with advanced weapons. Pirates and scavengers had moved into Quant territory and over the last thirty thousand cycles, and the Quants had learned to protect themselves. Once they had rediscovered their ancestors’ technology, as well as that of the Feebies, they had made progress and relearned much of what had been developed for the Feebie war. Over time, the Quants also learned to use that technology to defend themselves. There may have only been a fraction of them alive today, but they were now an armed race willing to do what was necessary for their defense.
“Commander, all stations report ready,” the Druggette’s tactical officer reported.
“Good,” Commander Qugnyt said. “Move us to an intercept course with the Freack fleet. Make sure you send off comm probes to base and to the researchers on Quantum. Let’s see if we can buy them some time to evacuate.”
“Yes, Commander. Estimate three divisions to intercept. That’s going to put them really close to Quantum,” the helm officer replied.
“I know, but, that’s all we can do. Hopefully, we’ll cause enough damage to slow them down.”
*****
The commander sat in his ready room preparing for the battle. No Quant ship had ever faced a Freack ship in battle. The Feebies had given the Quants very little information about Freack ships, and he just didn’t know if his three-ship squad would cause any damage to the incoming harvest fleet.
Commander Qugnyt’s comm unit lit up. “Commander, Fleet Commander Kleach on a secure channel.”
He had spent the last two divisions going over the upcoming battle in his mind, knowing they had no chance. Now he knew fleet command believed the same thing. With a frown, Commander Qugnyt straightened his uniform and opened the channel. “Fleet Commander Kleach,” he said as the face of his old friend appeared on his viewscreen.
“Commander Qugnyt,” the fleet commander replied. “We’ve received your transmission, and my people agree with your assessment that this is a Freack harvest fleet.”
“Kleach, why are they here so soon? I thought we’d determined that we still had almost a thousand cycles left before they were due.”
“I don’t know. They’ve never made harvest off schedule before. Our opinion is that they discovered our research colony on Quantum.”
“Maybe, but we’ve established small research colonies before and they’ve never reacted.”
“Quantum is different. It has an enormous population of Gyrdyds on it. Maybe they have a probe in orbit over the planet and we missed it.”
“That would make sense. Are we going to be able to get the researchers evacuated in time?”
Fleet Commander Kleach looked at Commander Qugnyt with sad eyes. “No. We’ve issued a general evacuation notice to all of our stations and colonies, but we don’t have a ship large enough to evacuate the researchers on Quantum. I’ve talked to the lead researcher and he understands. They are going to seal the sites they’ve found and try to get everyone to the shelters in the hopes that they can hold out until the Freack leave. We will not be able to send reinforcements to you.”
Commander Qugnyt looked down, briefly closed his eyes, and sighed. “Understood. What do you need us to do?”
“I need your squad to engage the Freack. The researchers need more time to get everyone rounded up and into the shelters.”
&
nbsp; “We can do that. I don’t know how much time we can buy, but we’ll do our best.”
“Qugnyt,” Fleet Commander Kleach responded with an odd look on his face, “I need you to do one more thing.”
“What is it, Kleach?”
“I need you to determine how well our weapons do against them. We need to know their tactics, formations, and their ships’ strengths. This has to be more than just a hit and run—we need detailed information.”
“I understand. We’ll give our scientist as much information as we can.” Commander Qugnyt knew his friend had just asked him to sacrifice his ships to gain knowledge about the Freak’s capabilities.
“Goodbye, old friend,” Fleet Commander Kleach said.
“Goodbye to you, as well,” Commander Qugnyt said as he cut the comm channel and stared at his blank view screen.
Over the past thirty thousand cycles, the Quants had learned how to sacrifice—individual lives meant nothing compared to the preservation of the species. Commander Qugnyt had always thought he understood this, but now that he had been asked to make that sacrifice, he truly understood.
His species had almost been exterminated and they’d spent tens of thousands of cycles barely surviving in the backwaters of this part of the galaxy. The great protectors they had worshiped had left them, and the advanced confederation they had built with other species had been shattered. Quants could no longer allow others to protect them. Commander Qugnyt understood that better than ever, and he was proud to give his life if it meant gaining the knowledge his species needed to survive.