by Chris Hechtl
They had taken a shuttle at gunpoint to Booti'licious to take the ship and run. But when they docked they found the ship dark, cold, and lifeless.
“Frack,” Dolon muttered as he took a party on board. He organized work parties to get to the critical parts of the ship while he headed to the bridge. Along the way he liked less and less of what he was seeing.
When he got to the bridge, it just confirmed his worst fears. The ship had been partially stripped and turned into a habitat by Captain Fisher. When they saw the missing equipment, the wolf howled.
“I didn't know! How could I have known?!” Doctor Perez moaned; sobbing to her knees as all eyes turned angrily on her.
“Space her and then let's see what we can do,” a voice growled.
“Aye,” a few people said.
“I can help,” the doctor said, sobbing and quivering in fear. “You need me!”
“Not anymore,” a dog growled but the wolf stopped them.
“Leave her alone. Go through the ship, find what's missing. Get back to the rock with a list of parts. Get some supplies too. Cut whatever deal you have to. If they want off, fine, take them too. We only have a couple of days; let's see if we can work a miracle,” Dolon said, voice rough. He didn't sound like he quite believed they could pull it off but it was a direction and like a magnet the rest of the people clustered to his leadership like iron filings.
After a moment they broke off with nods and got to work.
“Thanks,” the woman said as the group split apart.
“Don't thank me. If this doesn't work, we're all screwed anyway,” Dolon growled as he went over to where the helm station had once been. He grimaced. “I think we can run some of the ships systems from engineering. Every ship is supposed to have redundant control links …”
<()>^<()>
Each of the Mitchell's carried two antimatter and two conventional torpedoes. The antimatter torpedoes were the first torpedoes launched and each was allocated to a heavy cruiser or the battlecruiser.
Admiral Irons had only sent a few antimatter torpedoes along in the magazines of the CEVs attached to Rho Mission II, enough for a single full strike from each bomber. Shelby had ordered some of the torpedoes to be placed in her magazines at the capital as a reserve. The rest had been lovingly sent with the raiders to destroy as many enemy ships as they could.
<()>^<()>
Admiral Ishmael watched as clouds of chaff and blinding flares were spewed all over the battle space. He didn't even wince when a torpedo strike destroyed two cruisers. Four ships had been crippled and were listing, obviously dying. Their screams for pity and support were ignored.
The privateers were simple blown apart; they lacked the armor and ability to fend off such weapons. He shook his head as the losses mounted. They'd had no place in the battle, and he should have known better than to have forced them into it. The only good thing about their deaths was that they'd diverted some of the bombers away from his warships.
But, only for a moment.
His ship shivered as she took hit after hit. The first four had hammered her shields. Kix had turned their wounded starboard flank away like a cat, keeping it out of reach and even drawing one of the enemy bombers into striking range. The bomber had gotten off one torpedo before a retaliatory graser had turned her into a ball of expanding gas.
“Shiver me timbers,” a rating whispered.
The vice admiral snorted. Shiver me timbers indeed.
He coldly and dispassionately noted that every one of his ships had poor defensive training. They lacked coordination and the attempt to break and run had come at the worst possible moment.
In other words, it was a slaughter.
I should have stuck to the code he thought at himself. Even with the odds so much in his favor, he should have stuck to the code.
<()>^<()>
“Too old. Just too old and toothless to do this right,” the admiral said as his ship shuddered and shook with impacts. His beloved ship was being battered again, battered into wreckage. Perhaps that was what she was ever meant to be, wreckage.
<()>^<()>
Commander Coglin swore as the battlecruiser lumbered away. It was Tau-1252 all over again; the enemy had made good on the big ship's repairs. She was just too tough a nut to crack.
They should have concentrated more bombers on her, not just the four he thought. Now three he noted.
The good news was that the rest of the strike had gone off more or less as planned. Two of the enemy's heavy cruisers had turned early to run, which had let them get out of easy striking position. The bombers assigned to them had been forced to break off after what they admitted were light damage to the enemy ships.
But, on the good side of the ledger, all fifteen of the enemy privateers were debris clouds. So was one of the destroyers and fourteen, no, make that fifteen of the cruisers. Two of the heavy cruisers were crippled and were calling for parlay. Three of the light cruisers were running but were damaged. One was trailing a cloud of debris. As he watched a pair of fighters loaded with conventional torpedoes lined up and fired.
The two torpedoes managed to survive the ship's frantic defensive fire and rammed home. Her shields hadn't yet fully materialized so the grav lances cut through them like butter and into the hull. The torpedoes rammed home and finished the job tearing the ship apart.
It might seem like a massacre but it had a purpose. The bombers were good for the one strike; by the time they rearmed on the carriers, the fleeing enemy ships would most likely get out of range and escape.
That meant they had to get the job done here and now. Each of the pirates they could successfully take out in the concentrated battle helped reduce the number in the sector. It made it a little safer for the civilians, and it meant there were less of a need to hunt them down or picket star systems later.
Hopefully.
<()>^<()>
His heart ached with the missteps he'd made. It pounded, making his breath raspy. Leonidas clutched a fist to his chest briefly, closing his eye to the pain he was seeing.
It didn't help. It probably never would.
“We're clear. We've got half our drive and shields, but we're clear,” Kix said, coughing. “If we run hard, we can get clear of them before they regroup and rearm,” he said.
“What of the base?” the ATO asked in a trembling voice.
“Fight to run away. There are others,” the captain said coldly.
“Sir, two left in the sector! Just two!” the ATO protested.
“Aye, don't think I don't know that,” the admiral growled as he saw his ship cohesion break up. The freighters and other ships were all headed out; it was every ship for themselves and rightfully so. His people immediately began to fend for themselves in a race to whatever jump point they could get to. He shook his head in despair.
Black Death, Black Corsage, Saladin, and Picador, were the only warships to get clear of the disaster behind him. None of the other ships were returning his hails. He'd love to get his hands on Gutt and Hammer, but he knew they'd had the right of it.
He'd just been too stubborn and prideful to see it.
If the ship lost a drive, would he scuttle her? He wasn't certain. He'd definitely go down with the ship; there was no point trying to flee in a shuttle. He'd just die tired.
<()>^<()>
Captain Rogers whistled softly when he saw the report. Better than projected, far better. If they'd had a few more torpedo armed fighters, they might have made a clean sweep.
Losses had been relatively light—five fighters lost, four damaged. four bombers had been lost and another five crippled. Not bad considering the weight of tonnage they'd just taken out.
“The carriers are working on recovering their craft I assume?” he asked in an aside to his A.I.
“Aye, sir.”
“Good. Let's see if we can hurry that lot along. Is there a way we can nail one down? Or hurry them along with our missiles or fighters?”
“No, sir.”
/>
“Darn. Well, maybe next time then,” the captain stated. He turned to the XO. “I don't want to jinx it, but I think we won this one.”
<()>^<()>
“Sir, where do we go?”
“Go?” the admiral asked as Kix laid a hand on his right arm. He looked down at it and then shook it off as he straightened. “We get out of here. Head for the Triple Threat jump point.”
Kix considered that, cocking his head before he nodded once. “Mars?” he asked in a soft aside to the admiral.
“Aye, let's go to the god of war and lick our wounds once more. Comm, raise Captain Dab and the others, let them know what we're doing and the jump point we're headed to,” the admiral growled.
<()>^<()>
Captain Black winced as they tried to get the factory module into the open hold of the gantry ship. It wasn't going well; this was their third attempt. As he watched a tug over-corrected and the factory ship twisted. Not a lot, but just enough to catch on the superstructure of the gantry ship.
He watched horrified as the entire mess came apart before his eyes. Both ships turned into a tangle of debris in one split second, and he was helpless to do a damn thing to stop it.
“We are so fracked,” he muttered.
“Sir, the other ship, she's leaving,” an engineer said softly.
Captain Black shook himself. “I would too if I were in their shoes. Can we catch them?” he asked, turning to the shuttle pilot. The pilot looked over his shoulder and shook his head.
“Of course not. Why did I even bother to ask,” the human engineer stated. “Get us back to the rock.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
<()>^<()>
Captain Dab saw the ship come apart and just sighed. “So much for that,” she said.
“Ma'am, signal coming in from the flagship. She's ordering us to make for the Triple Threat jump point.” The engineer turned comm tech turned to her in confusion. “Didn't they get hosed by the plagues?”
Wilda shook herself and then nodded. She was pretty sure she knew what the admiral was up to. “Mars,” she murmured. She shook herself. “It doesn't matter. Follow the order,” she said, nodding to the acting navigator and helm team.
“Yeah, sure, just let me figure this shit out again,” the navigator muttered. “Um, a little help here?”
Wilda sighed again. It was already shaping up to be a long trip.
<()>^<()>
Thirty-four hours later Zeng He arrived at the Deep Rivers jump point to cut off any further retreat. She won the race as one ship lingered overlong, her temperamental hyperdrive bollixed. Six enemy ships were still running in her direction. They lagged enough for his ship to catch them easily. He hit the pirate ship as they attempted to flee. He launched his fighters to take out their drives as they tried to turn and lumber for another jump point.
Those behind them saw the ambush and changed course for the other two jump points rather than risk getting into range of the cruiser.
The light cruiser shot to disable. She used her fighters to help with the job. She left her missile pods and platforms behind at the center of the jump point to kill or cripple enemy ships that got past her.
It didn't look like there would be any, however.
“Sir, the viral bombs should be going off … right about … now,” Tong reported.
<()>^<()>
The admiral winced as he heard about the ambush at the Deep Rivers jump point. His upper lip curled in anger and contempt as ships began to drift, suddenly losing power.
“Sir, some of the civilian ships are … surrendering?”
“No, their drives just cut out even though they were not in danger,” Kix said. “Something else is going on,” he said, turning to the admiral.
The admiral inhaled and then exhaled noisily. He'd gotten four hours of fitful sleep in the past three days. He badly needed downtime. “Cyberattack,” he said simply. “Order all ships to purge their computers and reboot from backups and order them to alter our encryption,” he said.
Kix stared at him, then nodded once and turned to issue the orders.
<()>^<()>
Captain Dab swore viciously as her ship went dark. “What the frackin' hell? Who hit the wrong button?” she screamed. The emergency lights flickered and came up, but they were dim and yellow.
Footfalls announced the presence of one of her people. “I swear …,” Wilda started but Shenzie just panted and shook her head, holding on to the hatch combing. “The computers went nuts and then the reactor just scrammed. All systems are down. We're dead in the water.”
“Ah frack. So much for that!” the Gnoll captain said with an exasperated shake of her head.
Epilogue
Dead Man's Hand
It took days to sort out the mess. Fortunately, once Black Death and the other ships fled, they had the time. Captain Rogers had to be amused by the pirate's offer to parlay. He had to be, there just weren't any other words to describe it.
He'd split his force into five groups. One of the two destroyers had gone to sit on one of the other jump points while the other sat with the support ships on the jump point they'd entered the system at. The three CEVs had spread out to visit the disabled ships while his cruisers had locked down the remaining jump points and went in to face the base.
There were dozens of wrecks there, along with the ships they'd already captured. Dozens of ships were in the boneyard and prize row, including the tantalizing form of another Tauren battlecruiser. She looked like she'd been picked over a bit though, but they'd know more when the engineers had time to survey her in depth later.
He had thousands of pirate prisoners to contend with. One of the ships calling in with a parlay had a Neowolf on board who insisted he knew where the admiral was going since he'd been on Black Death. He was offering the location as well as other intelligence for his freedom.
Then another Neo had gotten on the line to denounce him as her no-good-faithless husband. She had turned out to be the leader of the shipyard gnolls. Apparently, they'd bollixed a hurried attempt to move and then had been caught by the virus that had disabled the civilian ships. Rumor had it that he'd made an almost clean sweep of the pirate engineers, which had been his primary target.
So yeah, a mess. But it was his mess.
“I don't want to jinx it …,” Captain Corbin said over the ship's link.
“Then don't.”
“But I think we won,” the Neochimp said with a grin in his voice.
Captain Rogers shook his head. “Great. Keep on SAR. We need to get a courier off to the admiral with the news and news of where those ships went. And get me a report from the Marines; we need to know how those boarding parties on the ships are going. And after that they need to reorganize to take that yard and base …”
<()>^<()>
In hyperspace
Captain Gutt snarled as his crew did their best to make good on the ship's repairs. The gear he'd liberated from Seydlitz had done well; according to Squint and the chief, they had made the difference between their ship surviving and being a cloud of debris.
He was considering his next course of action. Most of the other ships would no doubt try to retreat north past the Tauren Confederation to the Upsilon sector. He was unhappy about the idea of retreating, but the crew said he didn't have much of a choice. Eight or so ships had jumped ahead of his ship. He was tempted to take them when they got out of hyper. Maybe even prey on them? Had he stooped to cannibalism? He wasn't sure.
“We need to stay ahead of the navy, which means we need to get around them fast. If we continue south, we'll walk right into them eventually,” Raz stated.
“We've determined their ships are fully functional. Their ships are faster than ours. They can out run us,” Squint stated.
“Then we better get moving now. Pass the word and then move on,” Raz said. “Follow the code,” she said.
“Some ships will be missed. It's going to be hard livin' from here on out without a base and especial
ly without the engineers,” the chief said worriedly.
The captain grimaced. That was very true. If he ever got his hands on Hochi or that damn little cat ….
“It is not a problem we can solve. Anyone who is too lame or slow gets left behind. That's also in the code,” he growled instead. “We'll wait a day on the other side of the jump and then go. If they come they can follow or go their own way. I'm done followin' other orders. Back to basics. Back to doin' what we do best, bein' pirates.”
His bridge crew nodded and growled softly in agreement.
<()>^<()>
Tau-1252 New Tau Metropolis
The courier Runner's highly anticipated arrival nearly turned into a celebratory event for those involved. Runner's crew made dock and were amused by the welcome.
Governor Adrienne was on hand as well. She was scheduled for her implant surgery within two hours of Runner's docking. The case holding her keys was escorted to the hospital complex under Marine guard.
Shelby met with the skipper, and he showed her all of the cases he had for her. The personnel he had also carried were handled by Lieutenant Black and Boni. One of them was supposed to be a new staff officer for her, but for the moment, she was intent on the cases.
She ended up in the same wing as the governor as the medics uploaded the new keys and then made their final adjustments. When Shelby woke she found she had a host of new keys … and fresh mission orders.
She scanned them several times before she called a staff meeting. Once her team was settled in, she crossed her arms and stood next to the viewer. Boni followed her script and put an image of an unexpected relic from the past up on holographic projector in front of her.
“This, ladies and gentlemen who don't know, is a Stargate,” Shelby said, eyes cutting to each of them briefly. “It's powered by a Dyson sphere,” she said.
Abdul instantly sucked in a protesting breath, brown eyes wide with surprise and concern. She looked at him and then back to the slowly turning image.