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

by Michael Kotcher

  “You did one smart thing, Red Sphinx.” She said her name with obvious contempt. “You made overtures to Verrikoth and agreed to bring your worlds into his collective and under his rule. But in doing so, as I said before, you left that life you pretended was so carefree. This is now a world where you now have to live with responsibilities. I have no time or room for someone who will not carry his own weight.”

  Still, the Red Sphinx was silent. She could hear and see and even smell the hak’ruk’s fear, but she was managing a degree of control over it. “The Warlord has a rule that he is quite passionate about,” the Xai’ryn went on. “You don’t prey upon his worlds and you don’t kill his people. I suppose that should be our people now, but I digress. It can be a tiresome restriction at times, but I can see his reasoning. So as such, I am giving you a chance to save your own life. You are going back to the planet, but you will not be returning to the warships. You will go back down to the planet Vybex, and you will learn from those subordinates you have so neglected. You will learn those ‘day to day’ tasks; you will grow as a leader and then…” She stopped, waiting to see if it would snap the Red Sphinx out of her trance.

  She wasn’t disappointed. “And then?” Xheeshan all but squeaked.

  “And then you will lead, Red Sphinx.” She had leaned forward toward her as she’d been speaking, but now the Xai’ryn drew herself back. “To that end, you will need help.” She emitted a series of hisses and clicks, and three of the drones separated themselves from the others: two warriors and one worker drone. “These three will go with you. They will keep you safe, they will help you to build, but most importantly, they will watch you.”

  The humming Xheeshan was doing had eased as she realized she wasn’t going to kill her, but at that last comment, it intensified in power again as her fear spiked. She nodded in satisfaction at hearing that. “Now, get control of yourself. You need to go back to the Star of Minerva and inform your crews about a change in command. You need to be convincing, Red Sphinx. If the crews and officers of those ships do not believe you, or if they rebel, then the Warlord will be forced to take steps, and you would not like that.”

  “No,” she said, his voice shaky. “No, I would not.”

  “Then we are of common purpose. You may go and remember; you must learn, grow and lead. Or you will be replaced.” The broodmother waved a hand at her, a clear dismissal. The warrior drones cackled at her and bumped at her flanks, ushered the hak’ruk out of the compartment.

  ((--[][]--))

  Less than half an hour later, just as Flayl was finishing her initial report from aboard the Star of Minerva, the hak’ruk Xheeshan staggered onto Nemesis’s bridge. Verrikoth turned to look at her. “Ah, Red Ssphinx. I trusst your disscoursse with the Xai’ryn waz productive?”

  She was shaken, that much was certain, but she appeared uninjured. “Yes, my Lord, it was. She and I talked about many things, and I think she was right on a number of points. I will be heading to the surface to take a more direct hand in things down there. I will leave the command of the space forces to the other captains.”

  Verrikoth suppressed a chuckle. “Perhapss that iz for the besst.” Then he had a thought. “Though I meant what I ssaid before. Perhapss a trip to one or more of the other worldz in this Quartet would be beneficial.”

  The other insectoid nodded. “I will think on that, I promise, my Lord.”

  “Excellent. My sshuttle iz ready to take you back to the cruizer.”

  The hak’ruk nodded. “Yes. I will need to formally transfer command to… Kapitan Flayl, was it?”

  “Yess.” He gazed at the other intently. “You are doing the right thing, Red Ssphinx.”

  The other could only nod. Clutching her arm, she left the bridge, her three shadows following along close behind.

  ((--[][]--))

  “My Lord, I understand that I have you to thank for this?” Flayl commed to Verrikoth on a private channel.

  “Yes, Kapitan,” he replied, listening as the Red Sphinx ordered her people to accept this change in command. She would be returning to the surface to take a more direct hand in the day to day matters on this world and Flayl would be taking up command of the squadron. In fact, the cruiser would be departing soon for another star system, but they were not to worry. They were safe and under the Warlord’s protection. The Red Sphinx seemed only slightly nervous with two of the Warlord’s warrior drones at her side, and one of the workers just behind. They were her new retinue, and would go everywhere with her, for her… protection. “And you need to get that sship in order quickly, then make besst sspeed for Reesshee. Get refitted and take up command of the defensez there. I don’t want that world az uncovered az it haz been.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity to succeed, Warlord.” The female buzzed a bit. “She’s a lot bigger than Kopesh, but the Red Sphinx didn’t take all that good care of her. It’s going to take a lot of work to get this ship up to acceptable status again. I’ll get it done, my Lord.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “Prove to me you are worthy of it, Kapitan. Good luck.” He turned to Commander Tyler. “Commander, get our troops settled and let us be on our way.”

  Chapter 12

  “So talk to me about Gawilghur’s status,” Hestian said, as the meeting came to order. He first addressed V’ka’sith, the only other cruiser captain. They’d returned to Tyseus after a brief stopover at Amethyst to sell off the cargoes in the holds of Hestian’s – nay, the Warlord’s – new freighters. They’d made an acceptable profit, dealt with the less tractable of the prisoners, and then made their way back to the shipyard.

  V’ka’sith gave a long buzz. “We’ve got hull breaches on the damaged side. There were cracks in the surrounding superstructure, which could only be given patches for the trip back, but we have to put the ship into yard hands in order to fix it properly. I’ve discussed things with the Yard Supervisor, but he says it’s at least a four-month job.”

  Hestian cursed. “I don’t like having that ship down for that long.”

  “That’s how long it will take,” V’ka’sith replied. “Even with all of his workers concentrating on Gawilghur instead of the heavy cruiser, that’s the minimum time.”

  “What about the heavy?” the lupusan suddenly asked. “How far along is that?”

  V’ka’sith chittered. “For all intents, the ship is done. I think something like only ninety percent of her weapons are operational, but otherwise, it is ready.”

  Hestian considered this, his eyes, flicking back and forth from the zheen to his datapad. “What ships are ready to go right now?”

  “Ganges,” V’ka’sith replied immediately. Then he stopped. “All things considered, all the ships in the Strike flotilla are ready. The new freighters are getting a once over, and they should all be ready to go by the end of the week.”

  Hestian checked his datapad. “What about TrinaMarie?”

  V’ka’sith pressed a few keys on his datapad. “All told, another month.”

  “What needs doing?”

  The zheen raised his antennae. “Why? I thought the Warlord wanted them to bring relief supplies to Hecate.”

  “They will, eventually,” the lupusan replied, slowly, his eyes never leaving his own datapad. “But I’m thinking I might have something else for them first.”

  “Like what?” the zheen wanted to know.

  Hestian just waved a hand. “What’s our fuel status?”

  The zheen buzzed a sigh. “That’s where the problem comes in. We have enough to top up the Strike flotilla and for another month and a half of operations here at the yards. After that, we’re empty.”

  “What?” the lupusan demanded, looking up. “I thought that the Warlord had a pet engineer who promised to double our fuel production by the time we made it to the pirate base? We should have a good stockpile by now.” He turned and pressed a control on the Ganges’ conference table. A display appeared, and he pressed a few options. A moment later a comm window appeared and the
ugly, pink face of Lieutenant Bhavanian, the former Republic worker appeared.

  “Lieutenant,” the lupusan declared, losing his cool. “What is this I hear about our fuel reserves being almost gone?”

  The man nodded, unfazed, which only angered Hestian even further. “Yes, Commander, that’s true. But you did come home with more ships than we were expecting, one of them damaged, and then Gawilghur needs yard time too. It all adds up.”

  “Where are the fixes you promised?”

  “In place, Commander. I’ve got two collectors in the atmosphere, they’re at about sixty percent capacity, and we’ve got the fueling station operating at fifteen percent capacity. We’re just using more than we’re producing.”

  “And what are you doing about this?”

  The man still did not flinch in fear at the wolf’s tone. V’ka’sith had to admire the human’s iron will, for there were few that could look down that level of anger and not show signs of terror, even over a virtual display. “I’ve done what I’ve been allowed and able to do, Commander. Once I finished work on the fueling station and the collectors, the Yard Supervisor wanted me finishing things on the heavy cruiser.” The man grimaced. “But before you ask, we’re looking at critical shortages if we fill up all of the fuel bunkers on your ships, Commander.” Now he did hesitate. “We should probably link in the Yard Supervisor.”

  Hestian growled but nodded in agreement. The man did something outside the vid pickup and a second window opened, showing the zheen’s face. “Skrax, what is the situation with our fuel?”

  The zheen seemed slightly confused and wary that he was being brought into a conversation after one of his subordinates. Not knowing what had already been said, or what potential minefields he was walking into, the zheen spoke. “We have the fueling station at fifteen percent and drawing up fuel as we speak. The available bunkers on the station are going to be empty, though, Commander, if we fill up all the ships in your Strike squadron.” His monotone voice from his translator pack sounded even more robotic than usual. “Which will mean slowdowns or outright stoppages on the work if we do that since there won’t be fuel to run the factories or fabricators until the fuel catches up.”

  “So that just sounds like a brief gap in industry,” Hestian replied, his anger abating.

  Skrax wasn’t finished. “But that is not the only problem.”

  “Not the only problem?” Hestian repeated, finding that anger again.

  “Yes. We are running low on critical materials for ship production. We have some of what we need from the cargoes of the Baron Death prizes, but we have critical shortages in metal stocks and other construction materials.”

  “What’s the problem?” Hestian growled. “Go out to the moon there or the asteroid belt and mine some.”

  “We only have a small amount of mining bots,” the zheen told him. “And they are already at work. And the useful mineral content of the moon is quite low: it is mostly quartz and nickel-iron. But the bulk of the construction materials we had were brought in from Seylonique on the last raid. It will be months before the bots can collect enough for our orbital foundry to process it into usable materials.”

  Hestian growled but looked away from the screen when he did so. Then his ears flattened to the sides of his head. “So you’re in need of metal and other construction materials, fuel and money.”

  “How did you know about the coffers being almost empty?” Skrax asked, his antennae swirling.

  The lupusan glared at him. “Because I can access the computers, Yard Supervisor. I know that the Warlord sent a great deal of funds to Hecate for the new ships and the starfighters, and took a great deal with him for his Progress back to his capital world, which leaves very little left here for regular operations.”

  “The crews will stop working if they don’t get paid,” V’ka’sith stated and the others gave him annoyed looks. He continued. “And threats or violence will only keep things going for so long.”

  Hestian brightened, then threw back his head and howled, startling them both. “I have the perfect place. It’s time for a raid. A big one.” Skrax looked slightly put out at this, but V’ka’sith looked intrigued. “We need to round up as many soldiers as we can summon and we’ll need every ship we can spare.”

  “Even the system defense ships?” Skrax asked. “Because Karimnagar’s hyperdrive is down. Some sort of problem with the superconductors in the drive nacelle. We’re in the middle of running diagnostics to find out what happened.”

  Hestian paused for a moment, considering this. “No. Karimnagar and the corvettes will remain here. But we’re bringing all of the cargo ships and the Strike flotilla. Get the other ship captains on the line; I want to get everyone on the same page.”

  “What about Gawilghur?” V’ka’sith replied, looking a bit disappointed. “It will be in the slip for four months, remember? Longer without materials and fuel or engineering crews.”

  Hestian gave a little yip of laughter. “Don’t worry, Commander. I know with our shortage of crews, Karimnagar isn’t quite up to snuff. I could just transfer your people over to bring them up past skeleton crew levels, but I have a better idea.” He pressed a control, and the image of the heavy cruiser appeared. “I will be transferring my crew over to this vessel, and V’ka’sith, your crew will come to Ganges.”

  The two zheen exchanged looks, then looked to the lupusan in confusion. “You’re taking the heavy cruiser?”

  “I am taking it for this raid, yes,” he said. “It is close enough to completion to be used in combat, is that correct, Yard Supervisor?” He turned his attention to the zheen, who clicked his mandibles in acknowledgment. “Very well then. The additional orbital bombardment launchers will come in handy on this trip. And there is still no name for the vessel?”

  Skrax dipped his antennae. “No, Commander there is not. The Warlord did not provide one when he was last here.”

  “Hmm. Then the ship is now Adrasteia,” the lupusan replied. “The inescapable. I want that to be remembered by our enemies.”

  “I will get the name entered and the information updated.” The Yard Supervisor didn’t seem at all interested in what the lupusan chose, but he ticked the item off on his datapad.

  ((--[][]--))

  “So where is it that we are going?” one of the corvette captains, a human female asked once the meeting truly commenced. It was clearly a common question as all of the other assembled captains nodded.

  All of the commanding officers from the Strike flotilla were seated on one side of the conference table, with three captains of the cargo freighters on the other, with one virtual display opened up on the farthest seat, showing the face of one Robert Darling. He was transmitting from the bridge of his ship, TrinaMarie, intrigued by this call to action, but still refusing to leave the bridge of his vessel.

  “Elcor,” Hestian told the group. “It’s a star system very close to, but not part of, Lord Verrikoth’s territory, only a few light years away. We can be there in twenty-eight days, moving at the pace of the slowest ship in this fleet.” The others nodded at this, and he went on. “They use gold and other precious metals as currency, which works out well for us. They also have a high level of industrialization, but they aren’t up to space travel yet. No nuclear energy, or fusion power, but they have hydroelectric and solar power. They also have jet aircraft and chemical-explosive weapons and three nation-states that enjoy using them on one another.”

  “Sounds like fun,” the corvette captain replied, smiling.

  “They won’t have the fuel that we need for the yards here, but they should have at least some of the strategic minerals we need, in addition to gold and other valuables.”

  “And how is it you know about this place?” Kipris, Gr’kenth’s captain, asked.

  Hestian was unfazed by the question. “I’ve been watching this system for over two years now, back when I was in command of one of the ships for the Red Sphinx. She’d heard of the then-Captain Verrikoth and was intereste
d in opening a dialogue, so she sent me on a fact-finding mission. Elcor was the first stop on our way, and we gathered some valuable intel and sensor scans and spent a few hours monitoring their radio communications.” Hestian grinned. “They have a great deal of what we want.”

  “But what we don’t have a lot of is ground forces,” V’ka’sith replied. “Between all the ships, we have perhaps five hundred fighters. The Warlord took most of the trained fighters with him, though of course, he left Vok’s platoon and his Secaarans here.”

  “We’ll make do,” Hestian told him. “We’ll have ships in orbit and once we make the locals understand that a kinetic strike will ruin their day in a very short time, they’ll behave. And on a planet where they have no capability of striking back at us, they’ll either learn quickly or we’ll keep hitting them until they do.” He made a note to himself to check the medical status of the Secaaran siblings, one of whom had been near death when the others managed to get her into the tank on Ganges. One of the others had managed to break an arm of all things, but he was nearly mended. “We will also have to be sure that we are loaded up with as many shuttles as we can carry since only two of the four freighters we have at our disposal can land on a planet’s surface. TrinaMarie and Trokakk cannot.” The two freighter captains acknowledged this, but neither looked apologetic or even all that upset. Remaining in orbit meant they would be safe from reprisals from the locals. “We depart here in three days. I know that Adrasteia and TrinaMarie need more work, but I want them out of the slips in that time. Make sure everything is ready by that time. Now, V’ka’sith, you and I need to make sure the changeover in ships is completed by then.”