First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (2 page)

              “Missile lock!” Serra screamed.  Alarms blared and flashed on all the displays.

              “Go evasive!” Clarkson ordered.  “I’m activating ECM.  Bridge to gunnery,” she called.  “Target the incoming missiles.”

              The small ship twisted and bucked, trying desperately to evade the incoming weapons.  The flank and aft guns opened up, filling nearby space with heavy laser blasts and rail gun slugs.  And to their credit, they managed to shoot down two.  But the third missile came screaming in and exploded against the cutter’s aft shield. 

              “Aft shields are gone,” Serra cried, near panic on her face.

              “Lieutenant, what the hell is going on up there?” came the call from the engine room.  “We’ve got some damage to the main propulsion units.  We’re going to lose acceleration.”

              “Damn it,” Yselle swore under hear breath.  The ship indeed was beginning to slow and the fighters were rapidly closing the gap.  Another salvo of missiles streaked out and the gunners did their best to shoot them down.  One exploded in a hail of metal slugs.  But the other two managed to evade.

              “Direct hit to the after section,” Serra reported, her voice shaking.  There was a titanic detonation as the fuel cells blew and the ship lurched.  All of them were flung painfully against the straps in their chairs as the alarms howled.  “The whole engineering section is gone!”

              Clarkson gritted her teeth in frustration.  Power levels were dropping and air was just rushing out from the massive breach in the aft section.  They’d be dead in minutes.  The last thing she saw as the sensors went off line was the three fighters closing in on the ship, their laser cannons powered.  Yselle Clarkson closed her eyes and an instant later fire tore through the small bridge of the
Kampala
as the pirate fighters opened up with those cannons.  A bare second of searing agony then… nothing.

              Verrikoth clacked his mandibles together in satisfaction at the report from the pilots.  “Recall the fighterz,” he ordered.  “That went perfectly.  Make ssure to reload the ordnance on the fighterz and then sset course for the inner ssystem.  We have work to do.”

              “Yes, sir,” Tyler replied.  “You heard the Captain.  Let’s get moving.”

              “We just received a message from the
Kampala
, Commodore,” the communications watch announced. 

              Commodore Theodosia McConnell looked up from the status report she’d been reading.  “Put it through to my display.”

              “Yes, ma’am,” the comms watch replied.

              A second later the display changed from the report to the face of Lieutenant Clarkson.  “This is Lieutenant Clarkson on the
Kampala
.  Hostile forces have entered the system and my ship is under attack.”  There was a worried look on the lieutenant’s face, one that made the Commodore straighten a bit in her seat.  “There are a total of seven ships, three light cruisers and four armed merchant ships.  I’m going to try and make an attack run on the merchant ships but I’m afraid that I might not be successful.  You need to prepare for combat, Commodore.  Because these are not Republic ships.  I don’t know who they are, but they’re led by someone who calls himself Verrikoth.”  She faced the screen and hesitated for a moment.  “Good luck, Commodore.”

              Theodosia rubbed a hand on her forehead. 
What the hell is happening?
she wondered. 
First one of her corvettes goes missing and now a full blown invasion of Byra-Kae?  And where the hell did these warships come from?
  She’d been stationed out here in the Argos Cluster for fourteen months now, which was more than long enough to know that while there was some pirate activity out here, but there had never been anything serious enough to threaten the Republic base here.  Perhaps they were Federation ships?  But that was unlikely as well.  There was little here in the Argos Cluster that would be work the Federation’s time.  There were a few industrialized worlds out here, more than a few mining colonies and agricultural settlements, but aside from the forces here in Byra-Kae, and the occasional ship acting as self-defense force for a few of the scattered worlds here, there was nothing out here of any interest.  Frankly, Theodosia often wondered what the
Republic
’s interest out here was. 

              But none of that really mattered now.  “All right.  Launch a quad of the sensor buoys on the vector that Lieutenant Clarkson provided,” she ordered.  “I want them sweeping that vector on a twenty degree arc and send in the reports back to me.”  The sensor watch acknowledged her order.  “All ships are to report readiness states to me now.  Including this one.”

              Her flagship, the Adder-class destroyer
Horus
, wasn’t a ship that normally would be used to lead a flotilla like this one, and it was certainly not a ship normally operated by someone of her rank.  But due to her lack of connections and patronage in the Republic, this was about as high up the chain of command as she could ever expect to get.  It was an insult really.  Not to the captain and crew of the
Horus
, they were good at their jobs, disciplined, or rather they were now.  The whole light squadron here in Byra-Kae had been a bunch of malcontents and fuckups when Theodosia had taken command.  Depressed at being banished to the middle of nowhere with a loosely defined mission of “piracy patrol”, most of them were resistant to change and to any kind of authority.  Commodore McConnell stepped in and whipped the Republic forces into shape.  She had refused to cater to their whining and their bullshit and had insisted on drills and strict adherence to military discipline.  After three ratings and two officers had been brought up on charges for theft, insubordination and outright fighting, the rest of the Republic personnel here realized she’d meant business.  By this point in her tenure out here only the
Fury
and her itinerant Captain Sykora seemed resistant to military discipline and new way of doing things.

              And neither he nor his ship had been seen back here in Byra-Kae in several months.  It wasn’t time to get worried, not yet, as he wasn’t actually overdue.  But if he didn’t show up in the next sixty days, she was going to have to send out a ship to find him.  Though that thought was now the least of her worries. 

              The readiness statuses started flooding in to her command seat. 
Horus
was in good shape, which was a good thing because she’d have had several crewmen and officers flogged for letting her flagship drop below full readiness.  The rest of her light squadron consisted of the destroyer
Solara’s Heart
, which was another Adder-class, four corvettes:
Fury, Wayfarer, Red Hornet
and
Serpent Fang
and five cutters.  There was also the salvaged Federation destroyer, which was still in the dry dock, undergoing refits.  That ship, the
Distant Drums
, was months away from being ready, as there were many systems that needed to be torn out and replaced.  There were two orbital defense turrets, holding position about a kilometer on either side of the station.  The trader station that her forces used as a base wasn’t a military installation.  Back in the days of the Republic an old trader station was located out here to take advantage of the system’s Jovians.  There were a dozen helium 3 collectors hovering in orbit of the gas giant, with as many shuttles going back and forth from the collectors to the station and then from the station to arriving ships.  What few merchants there were in the Argos Cluster came around to make deals, trade cargoes and buy fuel.  When the Republic left the Cluster, the station stayed in independent hands until CovRon 486 arrived.  The station itself was still owned and administrated by civilians, who allowed the Republic to use several levels for their own purposes. But again, the station was not something she was concerned about at this time.

              “The rest of the ships in the light squadron are closing on our position, Commander,” the sensor officer reported, turning in his seat to face his commanding officer.

              “Commodore?” Commander Brianne Crgann asked, looking over to the senior officer as well.  Crgann was a rocky-skinned Secaaran female, looking professional and detached, exactly as the commanding officer of a warship should on the eve of battle.

              “All right, Brianne,” McConnell said, straightening in her seat.  “We have some interlopers to deal with.”

              “You’re not concerned, Commodore?” the Secaarans asked.

              She shrugged.  “Three light cruisers?  I am concerned, but I want to face them as far away from our important real estate as possible.”  Theodosia grimaced.  “It’s going to get bad, but we are not going to just roll over for these provincials.  How
dare
they come into Republic territory and take on Republic Navy ships?”

              There was a murmur of assent from the bridge crew.  “We’ll need to teach them the error of their ways, Commodore,” Crgann rumbled.  The crew seemed to perk up, the fear draining away at the straight spines and confidence in their commanders.

              Theodosia pressed a control on her command seat.  “All ships, this is Commodore McConnell.  Accelerate to two-fifty on course that is being transmitted by
Horus
.  We’re going to engage the enemy.”  This time there was a cheer from the bridge crew and the Commodore smiled.  “Engage engines,” she said to Crgann.

              “Yes, ma’am,” the commander replied.  She turned to the helmsman.  “You heard the Commodore, helm.  Engage engines, accelerate to two-fifty.”

              “Yes, Commander,” the pilot replied, working the console.  A moment later, the ship shivered slightly as the main propulsion units powered up and the light squadron accelerated forward.

              It had been over two hours since the initial skirmish with the cutter and the fighters had since been recovered for refueling and rearming.  Verrikoth nodded to himself in satisfaction.  The sensors showed that the Republic pigs, far from sitting back and cowering in fear, or dithering over what to do, were coming his way, coming right out to meet him. 
How considerate of them, those Republic pinkskins.
  They had some daring, he would give them that.  His compound eyes gleamed with malicious glee.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Book 1: Broken Pieces, Jagged Edges

Chapter 1

It had already been an extremely long day.  First came the invasion of the First Principles, Incorporated’s Kutok Gas Mining station in orbit of the largest gas giant in the Seylonique system.  A freighter loaded with mercenary soldiers had attacked the station, its soldiers moving to secure the station, killing the security forces aboard the station.  The company warship had retaliated, blasting the airlock and separated the ship from the station, incidentally killing off about a third of the invading soldiers.  Crew from the corvette attempted to board the freighter but a survivor of the mercenary company opened fire on them, killing a few and wounding several more.  From there, security forces from the bulk freighter
Grania Estelle
moved in and took the ship, while at the same time deputies on the station were joined by the pilots of the starfighter contingent.  Moving fast, they overwhelmed the mercenaries and retook the station.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of the game or the day.  As an endgame move, forces trying to remain hidden had deployed the system’s greatest military asset, the battlecruiser
Leytonstone
to move in and mop up.  The corvette recovered the uninjured members of her boarding party and moved to intercept the much larger warship, accompanied by the station’s fighter contingent. 

Tamara Samair sat in her command seat on the bridge of the FP Inc corvette
Cavalier
wondering how she was going to pull this miracle off.  Her ship was new and lithe, but the corvette was a minnow attempting to fight off a killer whale by comparison.  Both ships had very sharp teeth and perhaps if the battlecruiser was captained by a complete novice, maybe her vessel could take the behemoth down in a straight up fight.  Of course, she couldn’t count on that.  Knowing that the locals had been working on the ship for months made her worry about what
Leytonstone’s
capabilities might be.  They’d been extremely tight-lipped about the whole affair and Tamara cursed herself for the sense of propriety that had stopped her from parking one of her ships nearby and doing a proper scan of the ship.  At the time it seemed the height of rudeness, not to mention it would certainly have gotten the backs up of the local politicos (who all hated FP Inc. in general and her in particular).  It would have caused a great deal of trouble, but now she was bitterly regretting not having done it anyway.

But there was no point in continuing to berate herself for that now.  The guilt sessions would have to wait until after the battle was over.  Hopefully, the repairs to the battlecruiser weren’t as extensive as she was fearing and she could end this quickly because in truth, there was no second wave.  She had the corvette
Cavalier
and twenty-six starfighters to deal with the problem.  The twenty zheen pilots in their
Sepulcre-class
fighters in Aplora squadron, and the six mixed pilots of Delphon Squadron in their
Lancer
-class fighters.  Not a spectacular mixing and if the bastards who had orchestrated this attack had given her just one more month, the new
Zlk’vzn
class fighters would have rolled off the production line and the Delphons would have been able to field a full twenty ships, ships that were far more deadly than the
Lancers
.  The
Lancer
starfighter was basically a nimble and speedy eggshell armed with a pair of popguns.  They were not designed to go toe-to-toe with a battlecruiser.  Though there was still merit in using them.  Even an elephant would give pause if a mosquito bit him in just the right soft spot.

“Ykzann,” she spoke up to the zheen sensor officer, “I want a full scan of that ship, down to the rust-covered paint on the hull.  If there are any weaknesses in their defenses I want to know about it.”

“Yes, Captain,” he replied, turning back to his console.

Leicasitaj, her Romigani executive officer, moved over to her command seat, concern on his squid-like features.  “What kind of chances do you think we have, Captain?” he asked, keeping his liquid voice low.

Tamara felt her face go grim.  “Not great,” she admitted.  “But we’re not giving up.  We have over a thousand people on that mining station that are depending on us, XO,” she reminded him. 

“Of course not,” he agreed.  “But I’m just not sure how we can deal with a battlecruiser with the few assets we do have.”  He paused, considering.  “I’d think the only real chance we might have would be to outmaneuver them and target her engines.  Hit them with all our combined firepower.”

She smiled.  “That’s what I was thinking.  We really don’t have a lot of other options.  But, we’ve got to keep moving.”  She patted the arm of her command seat.  “This girl is new and shiny and I toughened her up as best as possible, but she can’t stand off against a battlecruiser.”  Tamara sighed.  “But, we can harass that thing and whittle her down.  Hopefully, all she has is the one reactor powering everything.  If that’s the case, they won’t be able to fight effectively, not for very long.”

Leicasitaj looked confused.  “What do you mean, ma’am?”

“Power is everything,” she explained.  “With only so much of it to go around and on a civilian level power plant, that ship is going to be awfully strapped for juice.”  Seeing he wasn’t quite getting it, she went on.  “They won’t be able to maintain serious fire from the energy weapons and keep the shields strong
and
run the engines and everything else with only one power plant on the ship.  So, if we batter them enough, the shields should fail.”

“Problem is, ma’am, we haven’t got a huge amount of punch to deliver,” he pointed out. 

“No, especially the fighters,” she acknowledged.  “The Delphon don’t have any missiles and the Aploras only have two.  But they can make strafing runs on the flanks while we pound on her engines.”  Tamara took a deep breath.  “We need to do whatever we can to keep them away from the station.”  She checked her display.  “Twenty-six minutes until we’re in firing range.  But I’m sure we’re going to be in the battlecruiser’s range before we can shoot them.  So, we can’t just go barreling in.” 

“So I should contact Korqath and tell him to change vector?”

“Yes, XO.  Tell him that we’re going to have to get a bit fancy.”

Colonel Rhomer Gants stood on the flag bridge of the
Leytonstone,
ignoring his command seat for the moment.  There were still ten more minutes before the FP ships were in weapons range and he wanted to be out of that chair for a little while longer.  The bridge of the ship had been refurbished, cleaned and repainted; it wouldn’t do to have the commanding officer’s operating space looking rusted and shabby.  The consoles had been torn out and replaced with newer ones, even the chairs had been reupholstered.  Of course a great deal of the rest of the ship still looked old and neglected, not at all like the proper warship she truly was.  In fact, she was far from
being
a truly proper warship, what with all the repairs and the problems that had cropped up over the years.

He slowly swept his gaze across the bridge, looking at the five people at stations.  There were eight more stations that were empty, which was unfortunate.  Three of those were weapons’ stations, two more were for sensors, one that handled the shields and two for auxiliary engineering stations.  There were two reasons for this: first, most of those systems were barely functioning and what was operating could be handled from the primary station, and second, there simply were not enough qualified people to run them.  Since the arrival of the
Kara
and then a few weeks later the bulk freighter
Grania Estelle
, the government had been in a tizzy about all the new equipment, parts and fuel that had started to come in.  It had been an interesting schism that those two ships caused.  One group had been all about the new tech and realizing the opportunity for what it was, they wanted to gut the
Kara
and transfer all those new parts over to the
Leytonstone
to get the old girl up and running again.  The other group was aghast that a group of outsiders could possibly drum up better tech than they in the system could and wanted it gone.

Gants was firmly in the first party.  In fact, he wanted to go one step further and obtain either the parts and equipment from them or the industrial capacity to produce the tech themselves.  He wasn’t particularly interested how those things were obtained.  Gants didn’t care if the government ponied up the credits and paid FP or if they sent in troops and took it.  So long as the
Leytonstone
was brought back to her former glory, he paid it no never mind. 

And he had happily supervised the refit of the battlecruiser, unable to stop his stomach from flip flopping with joy when power systems were installed and the new reactor came online.  As systems long dead or dormant suddenly rose from the ashes and powered back up, his heart soared.  Suddenly, a ship that had been tied up to the dock for years, running on station power, barely able to keep life support, passive sensors and a single turbolaser battery online was up and running again.  It no longer needed the station to give it life, it was a warship again.

Sadly, the battlecruiser required three main power reactors to reach full potential and the military grade reactors that the ship normally used gave an output several magnitudes greater than the one that they’d taken off the hospital ship.  Which, unfortunately meant that the ship was operating at little more than a quarter of her requisite power levels.  Some portable generators were brought aboard, which brought the levels still higher, but only barely enough to cover what would be produced by a regular military grade reactor.  This meant that the ship had enough power to extend shields and defensive screens all the way around the ship and to bring about half the weapons online.  But there just wasn’t enough to run both for a long period of time.  The intention was to get another reactor, even if they needed to purchase it from the FP people before putting the
Leytonstone
through her paces, but the powers that be decided to push up the timetable. 

Gants sighed to himself as he turned back to the front of the Flag bridge.  Normally the crew for a ship this size would be about fifteen hundred souls, but in order to save on power, large sections of the ship had been sealed off and life support shut off.  Missile launchers had been powered down as well, and the magazines had long since been emptied, which also helped with power.  So with no need for missile crews and with the sealed off sections, the ship was running with a crew of only six hundred.  In addition, the
Leytonstone
was carrying four hundred Army soldiers to board the station and deal with what was being called a pirate threat there.

Gants had been fully read into the deception and thought it was good, though a trifle complicated for his liking.  The idea was that the newly refitted
Kara
would truck over to FP’s gas mine loaded up with Ghovorak’s mercenary company, who would do their best to either take the station or in the very least soften up their defenses.  Then, Gants would fly in to “rescue” the beleaguered station from the “pirate” threat, and send his Army contingent in to secure the station.  And since, of course, the civilians from FP had proven they were incapable of holding on to the station, he’d be installing an Administrator to nationalize the gas mine. 

“Two minutes to reach max firing range on the forward turbolaser batteries, Colonel,” Lieutenant Paxton at the tactical station called.

“Very well,” he said, returning to his command seat and settling himself comfortably.  Once the repairs had begun on the battlecruiser, he’d had to fight to keep his position as commanding officer.  Others with important families had pushed to get someone else assigned, but his own family and political connections stepped up, and then thankfully, this mission came up.  There hadn’t been time to get anyone else up to the ship and up to speed, so the ruling body grudgingly allowed Gants to retain command of the
Leytonstone
, pending the outcome of this operation.  If it went well, it would go a long way toward confirming him as permanent commander.

“What’s the vector of the FP ships?”

“I’m reading their corvette and their fighters coming in on a direct vector, Colonel,” Hakami at sensors said.  She was a human woman in her late fifties, with steel gray hair and was perhaps a bit too old to be working on a battlecruiser, but no one could work the sensors and get finer resolution on them better than she.  “They’re coming in, straight at us.”

“I’m reading them as well, Colonel.  Twenty seconds to range.  Waiting for your firing order.”

“Target the corvette,” he ordered.  “As soon as we hit range, open up, all forward guns.” 
Let’s get this over quickly so we can drop our cargo off at the station.

Five seconds before Paxton pressed the firing control, Hakami suddenly spoke up.  “Targets are changing vector, Colonel.  The fighters are fanning out in all directions.  I think they’re going to try and loop over and around us.”

“What about the corvette?” Gants demanded, gritting his teeth. 
So much for a quick resolution
.

“Dove straight down, looks like it’s accelerating for all she’s worth, Colonel,” Hakami replied.

“Fire on the corvette!” he ordered.