First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (77 page)

BOOK: First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3
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              “I am well pleased with the itemz you collected from Heb,” Verrikoth said to Leader Mogrin, who was seated across from him in the captain’s ready room.  “It appearz that while thiss world iz not az advanced az Tysseuss or Ulla-tran or thiss Sseylonique, there iz enough there to make it worth our while.  I am particularly pleased with the sshuttle you acquired.  It iz of good quality.”  There in fact were more shuttles, but Mogrin had explained why he had left those behind, the locals needed enough transport to be able to gather up enough of the He3 from their collector to make sure that their reactors were topped up so that their industries were producing.  As much as it irked him to lose those shuttles, it made sense.  If the locals couldn’t keep things going then the tribute would lessen.  He wanted payment and fear, but he didn’t want to bankrupt them.  People who were desperate and flat broke made stupid decisions and, more simply, they couldn’t pay.  He’d let that sit for now.  But he would be monitoring the situation there.

              “Thank you, Lord,” Mogrin replied, ducking his head slightly. 

              “And I have conssidered what you have brought back about Sseylonique.  It iz a rich prize and we could use the materialz, the fuel and the laborerz here.  I want to hear your thoughtss about thiss.”  He gestured to the man to speak. 

              Mogrin swallowed hard.  To his knowledge, this was completely unprecedented.  Lord Verrikoth was well known for keeping his own counsel.  He rarely consulted with anyone, and when he did it was usually only his flag captain, or perhaps the captains of his capital ships.  Commander Hestian would make sense in this role, but not Mogrin.  A corvette captain?  Sure the ship was a Republic capture and had advanced systems, was fast and had some teeth.  But he could see that the Captain was waiting.

              “Well, Lord, as you say, there are a great number of resources that we could use.  But they do have some system defenses that should concern us.”  The zheen was looking at him with those compound eyes and Mogrin felt as though the collar on his shipsuit was tightening somehow.  He fought down the urge to try and stretch the collar and continued.  “That battlecruiser in particular.  We didn’t detect any other heavy capital ships like that one, but we did find a handful of corvettes and two of the larger warships like the one we saw in Heb.  They also have at least one squadron of starfighters, and it’s stationed out at the gas mine.”  He frowned, again fighting the urge to stretch his collar.  “I didn’t recognize the fighters, and there wasn’t anything in the Republic database.”  Mogrin consulted a datapad, pressing a few keys.  “I apologize, Lord, I was just checking.  There’s nothing like that in our databases.”

              “Sso an unknown fighter classs.”  Verrikot nodded slightly, considering what he was being told.  He pulled up a display on the console in his desk.  Checking on his own fighters, he saw that there were a dozen egg-shaped Muon-class fighters, as well as ten of the boxy Sepulcre-class fighters.  That certainly wouldn’t be enough.  The Republic heavy cruiser had torn through his ships and fighters as though they weren’t even there.  Against a battlecruiser, which was even larger and more impressive than a heavy cruiser?  Having twenty-five fighters wouldn’t be nearly enough, especially since the Muons were light on offensive punch.  “It is something we will have to look into.”  He gestured for Mogrin to continue.

              “Well, Lord, it is my understanding that we wouldn’t want to go in and crush the system defenses.”  He swallowed and the pirate lord nodded.  “Well, as I see it, the biggest threat is from the battlecruiser.  We need to draw it out of position, or wait until it is away from where we are going to strike.”

              “That iz obviouss.”  The pirate captain’s tone was scathing.  “I have losst too many sshipss in recent monthss to throw them away in a futile and wasteful attack.”

              “Of course, Lord, of course,” Mogrin said, his face flushing in embarrassment.  “But even if we could hit just the gas refinery and the mining station, there’s more than enough just floating out in space.  If we took the bulk of our ships in there, neutralized their defense corvettes there, we could get the goods and be out of there in short order.  If
Ganges
or
Nemesis
or both were there, we could take down those corvettes with minimal damage to our own forces.  Once they were down, we could send in the freighters to collect the swag and be out of there before they could affect a proper response.”

              “I will conssider it, Leader.  Return to your sship.  I expect you to continue drilling your crewz in tactical exercizez.”  At the slight frown from Mogrin, Verrikoth went on.  “Our fightss with the Republic have proven to me that advanced technology providez an edge, it iz sskill and discipline that will rule the day.  I will not have my fleet turn into an undisciplined mob which fallz upon itsself in terror at the firsst ssign of opposition.”

              Mogrin grimaced.  “My Lord, that is hardly fair.  We are not members of the Republic, but your crews are strong and experienced.  They would benefit from some gunnery and tactical drills, yes, but we are not weak and sniveling curs.  We are warriors!”

              “Yess, you are correct, Leader.  You and the otherz under my command have proven their worth and their ferocity in battle.”  Verrikoth almost sounded contrite.  “My wordz were harsh.  And I will conssider your plan.  You may go.”  He waved a hand in dismissal and Mogrin was on his feet and with a hasty salute, he exited.  Verrikoth reached over to a box on his desk and pulled out a handful of tube grubs, roughly ten centimeters long, gray worms.  He held one to his mouthparts and quickly devoured the morsel, then pulled up a display showing the status of his ships and stations here in the system.  It was a strong force, he had to admit, but against a battlecruiser, seven corvettes and two frigate-sized ships, and at least one squadron of twenty fighters, it would not be enough.  Compared to his own forces: a heavy cruiser, a light cruiser, a destroyer, four corvettes (three now, with
Korokat
out on the way to Hecate) and the Republic cutter, as well as his twenty-two fighters and five armed freighters, it would be a tough fight.  And as Mogrin had mentioned, he didn’t want to have his ship chewed apart by the local self defense forces.  The whole point of a raid into Seylonique would be to fill his coffers, not to run his fleet through a buzzsaw.

              The only part of this that made the idea of going to Seylonique palatable was the fact that their forces were spread out across the system whereas his could be concentrated.  Three of the corvettes and one fighter squadron were stationed out rotating between the gas giant and the asteroid belt.  The two frigates were at the shipyard at the Lagrange point and the remaining corvettes were located at the habitable planet.  The battlecruiser was out on a roving patrol, moving between all of the real estate in space.  They were spread too far out to effectively cover one another, even at maximum acceleration it would take days for any of the local forces to get to any of the other positions.

              Verrikoth nodded to himself, the beginnings of a plan starting to form.  All would depend on the location of the battlecruiser when his forces arrived in the system, but this might work.  There might be a few wrinkles to iron out, but this could work.

 

              Gokon was in his cabin, attempting to get some sleep when the comm panel beeped, jarring him awake.  He sat up, pressing the control on the side of his bunk to activate the comms.  “Yes?”

              “Sorry to wake you, sir,” the com-tech on the other end of the line replied.  “But I have Captain Verrikoth on the line for you.”

              His antennae went completely straight and he stood up.  Stepping over to the nearby desk, he activated the display.  “Put him through.”  A second later, the scarred zheen’s face appeared on the screen.  “Lord Verrikoth.  What can I do for you?”  A call in the middle of ship’s night?  Of course, when a call came through from the pirate lord, you answered.

              “Gokon.  You will take
Toroj
to Esselon-Moor,” Verrikoth ordered.  Esselon-Moor was a nearby star system, only one short jump away.  It was home to a hot, swampy jungle planet, barely habitable by most species, in an early stage of development.  The atmosphere was heavy with sulphur, and humans couldn’t breathe it for more than a few minutes without breather mask.  It was also the home to one an ally of Verrikoth’s, the Dog Soldiers; a group of lupusan raiders that operated northward of these systems but occasionally would fight under Verrikoth’s banner.  They were led by Typhon, a fearsome midnight-black male lupusan, who was as vicious as he was cunning.  “You will make contact with General Typhon and invite him to join uss on an attack on Sseylonique.  We will need hiz sshipss and ssoldierss and I will need them now.  I will allow a twenty-five percent cut of the sspoilss to him and hiz troopss.”

              “Do I have any leeway, Lord?” Gokon asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.  “I have met the General once before and I remember how much he values his troops and ships.  I am concerned of how much room I will have to… haggle.”

              “Haggle!” Verrikoth raged, hissing angrily, his mouthparts writhing.  “
I
am bringing him into this battle.  He can accept what I offer or he can rot!”

              “Lord Verrikoth, I meant no disrespect, nor to incur your wrath, but we both know the General, Lord.  We know he thinks very highly of his soldiers and their prowess.  I suspect he will demand a larger cut.”

              Verrikoth took a long moment to calm down, realizing Gokon’s point.  Typhon was a powerful leader and a terrifying pirate.  His Keberen Grenadiers were a former regiment of Federation soldiers, long since “retired” from the active military, known for taking missions in the most hostile, brutal environments and delivering maximum casualties to the enemy.  On his last mission for the Federation military, some seventy years ago, his men had stolen the assault transport vessel and the
Illuyanka
, the light cruiser assigned to provide support for his men from orbit.  On a series of raids on shipping and planets here in the Cluster since his retirement, Typhon had captured three additional ships, corvettes perfect for raiding, as well as a pair of medium freighters he’d had upgraded for his use.  He had set up shop on the moderately uncomfortable world at Esselon-Moor, a world that would allow for training for his lupusan soldiers in its rugged environment. 

              “You are mosst likely correct, Trammen,” Verrikoth replied.  “He will be arrogant and he will demand more for what he believez he iz owed.  Very well.  Up to a third of the sspoilss.  Nothing more.”

              Trammen Gokon nodded.  “Very good, my Lord.  I will extend the summons.  Where are we to meet?  Back here?”

              “No,” Verrikoth said coldly, though his tone was not because of Gokon, it was because of the spoils that would be lost to the lupusan General.  “You will meet at these coordinatess at the edge of Sseylonique sspace, to galactic north of the ssysstem. 
Toroj
az well az the General’z forcez need to be there in forty-sseven dayz.  That iz when I will have all of my forcez there and we will sstrike.  Undersstand, Trammen,” he said, addressing Gokon by his rank, “That regardlesss of what General Typhon ssayz, you must bring your sship to those coordinatess at the appointed time.”

              “I understand, my Lord.  I will not fail you.”

              “I know that you won’t, Trammen.  Now go.  You have work to do.”  And he cut the connection.

              Gokon’s knees wobbled a bit, but he didn’t fall.  A solo assignment to bring an ally to battle?  This was the second time he was being given a dangerous assignment and this was the second time that he was being expected to deliver.  Him and his very small ship.  He had a big flag to carry, as the emissary for Lord Verrikoth, but that flag might not do much to protect him and his ship should the General not feel much in a receiving mood.  If he was feeling vengeful, Verrikoth might retaliate but that wouldn’t save Gokon or his crew.

              He slapped his hand on the comm panel.  “Bridge.”

              “Kofen here, Trammen.”

              “Get on the horn with supply.  The captain has given us a mission and we need to be fully stocked with provisions and fuel.” 

 

              Verrikoth activated the comms, calling the station.  The face of his chief engineering officer, another zheen stared back at him from the display.  “You promissed me gunsshipss.  Where are you on delivering?”

              “We have the first three keels laid,” the engineer replied.  “The design is rugged, three laser cannons, decent energy shields.  They won’t be able to make a hyperspace jump, though, my Lord.”

              “How long?”

              “We can have these done in ten days.  There isn’t a lot to them and we have the parts sitting on the shelves and with those replicators and the Republic techs…” he trailed off, but his happiness was clear.  “You give me two weeks and I can have eight of those babies ready to fly.”

              “Two weekss,” Verrikoth repeated, nodding.  “Not one hour more.  Then we are departing the ssysstem.”

              “Thank you, Lord Verrikoth.  But if there’s nothing else, I should get back?”

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