The Warlord's Path: Samair in Argos: Book 6

by Michael Kotcher

  Verrikoth rumbled in his thorax, but his expression was unreadable to Commander Tyler. His antennae and mouthparts remained still; he made no other outward sign of displeasure. The man just sat quietly and listened, earning himself some praise from his Warlord, who appreciated the silence.

  Yokusk continued. “I am formally asking for reinforcements, my Lord. I’m hoping that I am jumping at shadows, but this many pirate vessels, even mostly small ones have me concerned. I am not panicking, nor will I retreat in fear. I am simply alerting my Lord to a situation. We have six cargo ships under your banner docked at the station, as well as four additional independents. Your ship drivers, Captains Flayl and Kipris, as well as I, will do everything we can to maintain order.”

  “I await your judgment and your response. I remain your faithful servant. Yokusk out.” The holo winked out.

  “What your thoughtss, Commander?” he asked, turning to stare at the human.

  Jensen Tyler considered this for a long moment before he answered. “On the face of it, it seems a ridiculous worry, my Lord. Five ships, three of them freighters and one a cutter? A frigate and a cutter against the station, the Kopesh and Gr’kenth? The pirates stand no chance. And that, of course presupposes that all those pirates will work together toward a common goal. But even if they did, it is impossible that they have enough troops aboard those ships to fight the station’s security complement. There are two thousand people on that station, two hundred in security. The station has weapons and shields; the whole threat is ludicrous.”

  “And not on the face of thingz?” Verrikoth asked.

  Tyler sighed. “If they came to Hyperidon in peace, then they would already be inside the shield perimeter. They could maneuver and fire into the station and the defenders couldn’t return fire.”

  “What elsse doez that imply?” the zheen inquired.

  “If they’re already docked then it wouldn’t take much for the invaders to get off their ships and into the station. Enough explosives or cutting tools, they could make their way to critical areas. The locals would have to defend from within.”

  “Your recommendation?”

  Tyler hesitated for a second but then nodded. “We mount up a flotilla, and we go, my Lord. I would recommend Nemesis, the gunships, Gawilghur and two of the corvettes.” He considered for a moment. “Probably Xekxik and Vin’zyek. And then we race hell for leather for Amethyst. As Primary Yokusk stated, hopefully he’s jumping at shadows, and our presence will simply be to awe the ship drivers in the system. And if he is not, well, we can arrive to pick up the pieces.”

  The zheen tapped his fingertips on the desktop, his antennae quivering. “I agree with your assessment, Commander, but with one alteration. We will have the two corvettess accompany uss, but they will follow at their own besst sspeed. Nemessiss and Gawilghur will go ‘hell for leather’ az you put it. I had intended a vizit to Amethysst anyway. Thiss jusst pushez up my timetable.” Verrikoth pulled up a display showing status for his flagship. “Are theze readinesss numberz accurate?”

  Tyler looked over at the display, scanned the numbers and then nodded. “Yes, my Lord. Our tankage isn’t quite topped up, but we are at ninety-four percent capacity on fuel, eighty-nine on water. Food stores are good; ammunition magazines are full, starfighters are loaded. We could go now.”

  Verrikoth fired off a message to the light cruiser Gawilghur, looking for a status update. Less than a minute later, the other cruiser linked in on the tactical net, allowing the Warlord to see the feeds. “Good. It sseemz az though we are about ready. Go back to the bridge, coordinate with Gawilghur. We will be leaving for Amethysst within the hour. I will sspeak with the corvette Kapitanz.”

  Tyler stood. He clicked his heels together, keeping his back straight. “Yes, my Lord.” He turned an exited the day cabin.

  Verrikoth activated his comms, hailing the two corvettes. He gave the two Kapitans their orders, requiring them to make for Amethyst. The Tyseus yard had a single slip dedicated to building small warships and the design being used for these corvettes was one chosen for its rugged simplicity. It lacked many of the sophisticated features of Core World designs, especially those he had available from the Republic. But he wanted more hulls in space, and cheap and sturdy was better than expensive and powerful. The corvettes were called Zkanvir class, were outfitted with a handful of laser cannons, a few small railguns for point defense, a class N hyperdrive and shields decent enough to get them up to the bottom of the Green levels of the hyperspace rainbow. His two cruisers that were going to Amethyst by comparison could reach well into the Blue. It would be a good ten days longer for the corvettes to reach Amethyst, and that was far longer than Verrikoth was willing to wait, especially if the station was under threat. They’d get there eventually and for the foreseeable future would be stationed in that star system as a garrison.

  Nodding to himself, Verrikoth began pouring over what little data was available on those ships. Yes, compared to his cruisers, they were nothing but target practice, but against the lightly armed and shielded Hyperidon station, they could be a threat if deployed properly. Of course, that also presupposed that the ships and their crews were willing and able to work together as a unit, which could be devastating. Individually, they could do some damage, but fighting that way the station’s defenders should be able to deal with them.

  That was a problem for when they got there, however. Still, the zheen continued to study the sensor displays, looking for all the specs that he could find on them, looking for vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

  ((--[][]--))

  Yokusk watched for eight days after the Devonii departed the station, waiting for the other boot to drop. The pirate ships had all moved in, docked, paid their docking fees, sent crews aboard and caroused in the station’s drinking and gaming establishments; a few visited the pleasure dens. Once the pirate crews had spent their loose cash, they stumbled back to their ships. Meanwhile, two of the ship captains, Halsey on the Committee ship and Krugik on the cutter from Baron Death, made orders to the station’s machine shops and paid the credits to purchase some critical components to make emergency repairs. Yokusk had no good justification to deny the purchases, just a lingering concern about the pirate crews getting belligerent.

  This was still a trading freeport station and angering paying customers over “what ifs” was not good business. It wasn’t as though everyone who traded goods through Amethyst was as pure as the driven snow anyway. Of course, being accused of cowardice by the Warlord for backing out of deals because of unsubstantiated security concerns was not conducive for long life either.

  The parts were innocuous enough; he wasn’t selling any weapons, ammunition or components to make either of those. Those four ships all had considerable damage and these parts wouldn’t alleviate all their problems but would go a good ways toward getting them back on their feet.

  He kept an eye on them, though, hoping that all this was for nothing; just a normal day on Hyperidon Station. With a mental shrug, he looked to other displays, checking reports on environmental and in the hydroponics bays. Another crop of vegetables was about ripe and ready for harvesting and sale. Carbon monoxide levels were up by 1.4 percent, while oxygen, strangely, was down by 2.2 percent. He sent a query to the Enviro Division to check into this. Slight power spike in section Forty-one. Yokusk concentrated more on his day to day duties, but he always kept those security displays active.

  ((--[][]--))

  “How long for the repairs?” Citizen First Duane Halsey demanded of his engineer, a weedy-looking man named Marcos.

  The man scratched his arm. “Gimme six hours, Citizen First. We’re installing the regulators now and there are three trunk lines I gotta replace. Once that’s done we should be back up and running properly.”

  “And the holes in the hull?”

  “Patched up, so we’re not venting anymore,” the man replied. “And it’s not like the ship has any serious armor anyway.”

  “Very well.
Because we are not going to let this insult to our moral authority stand,” Halsey declared forcefully. “Keep your two techs with you here on the ship. The rest of us will be out.” With the seven from this ship, and eight more from the Kaeli, who had a crew of thirteen, but had suffered slightly more damage, it would be enough to truly bring some pain to those interlopers.

  Marcos gave him a knowing smile, then turned away, going back to his work on the regulator.

  Halsey ground his teeth so hard they squeaked. Rushing to his small cabin, he retrieved his pearl-handled needler, a gift from the Vice Chairwoman of the Committee herself. He’d used the weapon twice in battle before and if luck was on his side, he would get to do so again today. Checking himself in the mirror once more and adjusting the gig line on his undress uniform (khakis, of course), he bucked on the needler in its holster around his waist. Giving himself one last look in the mirror, he headed out.

  Gathering up the rest of his small crew, he found them ready to fight. Pistols, blades, stunners, all were itching to return the insult to their enemy. He led them off the ship and into Hyperidon station. They were armed, angry and out for blood.

  ((--[][]--))

  “Krugik, we got a crowd of humans coming this way,” the cutter’s pilot called from the cockpit.

  The zheen captain looked up from the console he was rewiring. Sever had taken damage in the battle at Gamma Sheyn by those arrogant human bureaucrats and their Committee. They were better armed than he’d supposed and his dedicated warship had been hammered by the kvitks and their freighters. Krugik clicked in irritation at the damage.

  Getting up off the deck, he moved over to the operations station, seeing the group of humans approaching the docking bay. There were fifteen or so, and they were all armed. He cursed. “Get everyone up. Get weapons. We will face these kvzzt and tear out their livers! We will feast on them!”

  The two other zheen in the cockpit of the cutter clicked and hissed their assent, all getting to their feet. They ran out of the compartment, heading for the ship’s tiny arms locker. Three assault rifles and two stunner pistols, that was the sum total of the cutter’s armory. For a crew of eight, it was plenty, but against a group twice as large, all of them armed… It would be close.

  Unfortunately, station authorities had required that the other ship, the Trokakk, take a docking space on the other end of the docking area, two compartments away. The ship carried twenty of Baron Death’s soldiers, but if they were that far away, they might as well be on the other side of the system.

  Krugik didn’t wait. Once the armory was empty, he took those of his crew that were armed and rushed to the airlock. Slapping the control, the hatch cycled open and he moved up to look out into the docking bay. “Go!” he roared and took the lead, rushed out of the ship and into the bay.

  There was no cover. It was a bare, empty cube of a bay, meant to load and unload cargoes from docked ships. Krugik and his crew charged across the open bay into the teeth of their enemy, who opened fire as soon as they saw them. The humans were just rounding the corner from the corridor beyond into this docking bay and saw the zheen and his fellows running at them, weapons raised. Both sides opened up on one another and the compartment echoed with the sounds of gunfire and screams.

  ((--[][]--))

  Yokusk mentally kicked himself when alarms started blaring on his screen. “Get some security down there!” he ordered. Sending off a message to the head of security and activating the links to lock down nearby bulkheads. Those idiots could breach the hull! If their fire was any more serious, damage could be incurred to the docked ship. Or worse. The group of humans from the Committee of Public Safety had taken up position just inside the entrance to the bay, while the crew of the Sever had arrested their charge and were standing or crouching and firing from the center of the bay.

  Idiots, all of them. If the Sever’s crew had simply rushed them, they might survive. Now, though… One of the zheen in the rear of the formation dropped to the deck, green ichor leaking out onto the deck. A second later, two of humans got hit, blood splashing on the bulkhead and the deck. They all seemed at a loss for what to do for several long seconds. Then the humans pulled back, leaving their dead, making a fighting withdrawal. Meanwhile, the Sever’s crew took advantage and finally decided to push the attack.

  About time they made the right decision, Yokusk thought to himself. But then he gave himself a mental shake. He activated comms. “Security, report!”

  With the channel open, he could hear the sounds of gunfire, though they sounded metallic somehow, and very far away. “We are approaching, Primary,” the lieutenant replied. “Two minutes.”

  Yokusk growled in irritation but closed the channel. He turned back to the displays. The humans fell back in disarray as the Sever’s crew pushed forward, firing wildly at the fighters from Baron Death. One of the cutter’s crew went down, his leg carapace punctured by a half-dozen razor-sharp needles. His screams blanketed the area with a keening wail.

  The humans, however, took much heavier casualties as four of their number were cut down where they stood. The two groups crashed together, going at it hand to hand. Fists and blades, metal knuckles and firearms were all swinging wildly. Shouts and screams echoed off the bulkheads as the fighting grew more desperate and savage. Blood, both red, green and yellow splashed all over the combatants, the deck and the bulkheads.

  Thankfully, Security showed up at that moment, four deputies in blue uniform tunics, all of them armed with stun pistols. The weapons crackled with energy as stun bolts scythed through the group of pirates who hadn’t even noticed the newcomers’ arrival. The area fairly glowed with energy for a brief moment, then all the brawlers were unconscious and twitched on the deck.

  Yokusk allowed himself to relax as the security people roughly secured the wrists and ankles of all the offenders, alive, wounded and dead alike, then loaded them onto a waiting hover pallet. Then, like cargo loaders, the security deputies marched off the hangar deck back to the security compartments. One crisis contained, though Yokusk was sure more crises would soon erupt.

  “Security, send teams of twenty to each of those three ships,” he ordered. “Dreyvis, Kaeli, and Sever. That tractor from Baron Death stayed out of the fighting, so you can exempt them for now. Take your teams and secure those three ships; detain their crews.”

  “Understood, Primary,” the security chief replied. His voice held no emotion; he was just a man tasked with a job, one that he did well. That was just what Yokusk wanted to hear now. “Moving now.”

  ((--[][]--))

  “Attention, this is Primary Yokusk. In response to the flagrant violations of station rules, I am seizing the ships whose crews were involved. The ships Sever, Kaeli, and Dreyvis are now forfeit and are in the process of being confiscated. Security forces of this station are aboard those vessels now, making them secure. Representatives of those ships not directly involved in the violence will be given the opportunity to plead their case and arrange transport back to your home star systems. Contact station security and the command office immediately. That is all.”

  Sergei Ivanov, Terax in rank and commander of the tractor Trokakk, slumped back in his command seat. The Baron himself would hear of this and would raise unholy hell over it. He was hard pressed to decide who would receive the lion share of the Baron’s ire: the Primary of Amethyst for daring to seize one of his warships, Krugik for failing the simple run to Gamma Sheyn and then getting himself and his crew in this mess, or Ivanov himself for bearing the news. The Baron is not known for his patience and understanding.

  “Damn it!” he said, slamming a fist on the arm of his seat. He pressed a control, bringing up the stats for the ship. The cargo feeds came up on the display showing the available cargo list from the station. There wasn’t much but he saw a load of machine parts going to the Doldrums star system. The credits made from selling the cans of cargo here gave the crew a nice profit with enough left over to top up fuel, air and still get that can of
parts. It would give a thin veneer of legitimacy to the ship, despite them flying a pirate ID beacon. Not that it mattered. Out here in Argos, there were no multi-system conglomerates, no real legitimate governments outside of local system governments. Most of the ships that were flying around the Cluster were either independent traders or pirates, and up until today, the people of Amethyst were more than happy to accept Trokakk’s business.

  The machine parts would be useful at least. They weren’t all that valuable in themselves, but with a few tweaks they could provide some spare parts for Baron Death’s fleet. He would have some valuable intel on the Committee for Public Safety, most notably that they’d just lost two of their ships to the authorities on Amethyst.

  By that same token, the Baron wasn’t all that far from here; he had a staging area two and a half week’s travel time from here. It was little more than a drop off point for swag, cargoes and fuel, but the Baron had been considering setting up a small station there for some time. He wondered if any ships would be then when Tokakk arrived. The Baron would also be interested in the defenses he could find here in Amethyst as well.

  Undocking went smoothly. The full cargo can was locked in as well as the three empty ones. Fuel and air were at acceptable levels and all crew was aboard and accounted for. “We go now,” he ordered, signaling the bridge crew. “I’m certainly not going to risk this ship or crew to try and spring any of the survivors on the Sever.”