Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (96 page)

              Tyler blanched.  “No one said anything about taking on a Republic heavy cruiser.”

              “Are you afraid, Commander?  I can ssmell your fear.  Perhapss I erred in choosing you for my flagsship Captain.”

              The man’s fists clenched.  “No, there was no error.  I’m just concerned about taking on a ship as powerful as that one.”

              Verrikoth nodded.  “Caution is understandable.  But ssometimez bold action iz needed.”  He hissed again.  “But not thiss time.  Communicationz!” he barked.

              “Yes, Captain?”

              “Ssignal all shipss to upload the comm package,” he ordered and the comm officer hustled to obey.  The zheen turned back to Tyler.  “What interestss me is that Captain Eamonn haz a Navy code.  It makes me wonder.  Are they part of the Republic Navy?  Haz my fight already begun?”

              “I can’t see that being true, sir,” Tyler hedged.  “That has to be a fake.”

              “Perhapss,” Verrikoth replied.  “Are we ready?” he asked, directing his inquiry to the comm officer.

              “Ready, sir.”

              “Then begin broadcasting.”

              “Whoa!” the comm officer on
Legacy
’s bridge exclaimed.  “Commander,
all
of the ships in the group, even the corvette in the small group and the warships in the other are now broadcasting Naval Reserve ID codes.”

              But Harth was shaking his head.  “No way.  There is no chance that this many Reserve ships were out here in the Cluster and I hadn’t known about it.  Maybe one, but not all of them.  This is a ruse.”  He curled a hand into a fist.  “I’m not falling for it.”

              “But sir, if those are real signatures…” the comm officer replied.

              “Yes, I understand the consequences, Ensign,” the Commander said scathingly.  The young man at the comms ducked his head, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.  “Helm, continue on course.”  He checked the displays.  At current course and speed,
Legacy
would catch them long before they reached the hyper limit.  But if they scattered, it would be unlikely that they could catch more than one of them, aside from the big freighter.  He just had to hope that whoever was in command over there was arrogant enough to think they could take him on in a straight fight. 

              They had to be pirates.  There were no legitimate governments out here that would have their own fleets, certainly nothing of this size and power.  Eight ships didn’t constitute a fleet, and four of them were only converted merchant ships that had a few guns tacked on.  But it was the fact that someone had built these cruisers in the first place.   Maybe it was a coalition of planets that banded together and financed this fleet.  That seemed reasonable, but to what purpose?  The planets out here in the Cluster didn’t have much in the way of loyalty toward one another and Republic agents would have heard if there was anyone rising to any kind of power out here.  Or even if any serious trading partners were starting to band together.  He’d have a serious talk with the Intel people back in the Republic after this was over.

***************************

              “This trip is taking forever,” the Captain muttered to himself.  “When did that happen?” he wondered. 
When did I get so used to a well-tuned and functional ship that going back to the way things were simply won’t do anymore? 
He sighed. 
I’m getting soft. 
The distance between
Grania Estelle
and
Ravage
and the other ships was slowly opening.  The two different stars they’d be aiming for were not all that far apart from each other, only a few light years, so the large flotilla was still within easy closing distance of the freighter and her escort ship.  The heavy cruiser was bearing down on them steadily, fast enough that they could even catch the speedier warships and still possibly have time to swing around and catch the much slower bulk freighter before they jumped.

              Could a single heavy cruiser fight off eight smaller warships?  And, on another note, was the captain of that ship moving to attack or to assist?  And what was Vincent Eamonn supposed to do when they got close enough?

              But now, finally, the guard on the bridge moved into action.  He raised his rectangular comlink to his mouth and spoke into it, his voice pitched too low for Eamonn to hear.  The captain looked to the others on the bridge, but there was nothing they could do.  Less than a minute later, three others guards arrived, all of them heavily armed.  The first guard hefted his weapon, though it wasn’t pointed at anyone on the bridge. 

              “Captain.  I have orders from
Ganges
.  You are to continue on course to the hyper limit and you are not to reduce speed or change course.  Once we reach the hyper limit, you are to jump for Amethyst as scheduled, your navigation linked with
Ravage
.”

              Everyone on the bridge froze.  The guard sighed.  “Captain, please let’s not make this difficult.  I have my orders and so do you.  The Republic ship here changes nothing.  This ship and everything in it belong to Verrikoth.  So don’t do something stupid.”              Still no one moved.  “Are you going to make me shoot someone?  Bug lady?”  He swiveled around and pointed his rifle at Kutok, who bristled at the slur.

              “Don’t you
dare
call me a… bug!” she seethed, raising one clawed hand.  She was far enough away from the man that he was in no real danger, but seeing that hand full of talons was still rather intimidating. 

              But he wasn’t impressed.  “Calm down… bug,” he taunted.  “I have no problem shooting you, or anyone else on the bridge here.  So, Captain.  What’s it going to be?  Are you going to behave and we all jump for Amethyst?  Or does the bug get crunched?”

              Every time he said that hateful word, Kutok’s rage grew.  She was visibly shaking.  The man’s smirk grew wider.  “All right.”  He fired, and Kutok’s hand exploded in verdant gore.  She emitted a high-pitched keening noise from pain.  The hand was blasted off from just above her lowest joint, what on a human would be a wrist joint.  Her arm curled in, the wounded part right up to her thorax, the keening noise getting louder and more piercing.

              The man raised his weapon again, ready to finish the job.  “No!” the Captain shouted, lunging to his feet.  Tamara was trying to get to her from around the communications console, but one of the guards stuck a pistol in her face, stopping her.  “Leave her alone!” he demanded.  “All right, all right!  I’ll do it.  We get to the hyper limit and we jump!”

              “Shut her up, Captain!” the man shouted, not lowering his weapon an inch.

              “You blew her hand off, you bastard!” Eamonn shouted right back.  “She’s in agony.”

              He shrugged.  “I warned her.  I warned you.  Now I’m warning you again.  Shut her up, or she loses her head.  And if that doesn’t finish her, I’ll blow apart her thorax and then stomp the rest into the deckplates.”

              Eamonn, glaring daggers at the guard, approached the screeching hak’ruk, his hands outstretched as though to catch her.  “Come on, Kutok.  Help me save all our lives, especially yours.”

              The compound eyes were sparkling with agony.  She swiveled her head to stare at the man who had shot her, the sound level dropping to a much more manageable level.  But she didn’t stop; either she couldn’t, or she was continuing as a small measure of defiance for the bastard who might yet kill her anyway.

              “Moxie, can you help Kutok down to sickbay?” the captain asked, gently, holding the hak’ruk in his arms.  She sagged against him, though her head was laser focused on the guard, making sure he never left her sight.

              Tamara nodded slowly, her face immediately shifting from anger to compassion.  “Of course, sir.”  She rushed forward to help and the guard moved aside to let her pass, taking Kutok’s weight in her arms.  She wasn’t trying to lift the hak’ruk, Tamara was a strong woman, but Kutok weighed almost as much as the human.  She wasn’t a bodybuilder, but thankfully, Kutok was able to hold herself up on her back legs.  The two females shuffled off the bridge, sidling past the guards, one of whom “accidently” rubbed his hand along Tamara’s side and rear.  She clenched her jaw and pushed past until the two of them were in the hall.  One of the guards, the one who had put his hands on her, followed them out, but he kept a respectful distance, though just a few centimeters out of kicking distance, should either of them decide to get feisty.

              Tamara could hear the captain issuing orders on the bridge, as well as yelling at the guard for his completely unnecessary actions.  The guard’s voice replied, but it was pitched too low for Tamara to hear.  Most likely he was telling the Captain off, probably acting completely reasonable, as though his hands were lily white, instead of green with blood.

              “Wh-why?” Kutok stammered, her voice so low that Tamara almost didn’t hear it.  Her implants, however, amplified the sound and helpfully scrolled text indicating what Kutok had said on Tamara’s HUD. 

              “Because they’re pirates, Kutok,” Tamara replied.  “Because no matter what time you live in, it seems there are always people that like to prey upon others.  You’re no victim and who knows?  It might have been the fact that you stood up to him and didn’t meekly back down that made him do it.  Had to show he meant business.”

              “I will kill him,” the hak’ruk vowed.  This saddened Tamara, because for all her fierceness, Kutok was a proper lady and a gentle soul.  The fact that she could be driven to this…  It was just another tick on the ledger as far as Tamara was concerned.

              “Come on, let’s get to you to Turan.  It’s going to be all right.”

              “It’s
never
going to be all right!” Kutok hissed, raising her voice and then cringing from the pain.  “Never,” she whispered.

              Tamara didn’t have any reply.

              “Coming into extreme weapons’ range now, Captain,” the tactical officer reported, clearly excited.

              “Easy now, Perrin,” Harth chided gently to the ensign at tactical.  “Plenty of time for you to clear your guns if it comes to that.”

              The young man flushed in embarrassment.  It had been a very long run out across the system to catch up to this group of ships.  Their quarry was finally in sight and in range and energy levels and morale aboard
Legacy
were through the roof.  Harth considered his options. 
Grania Estelle
was definitely his main quarry here, but she was escorted. 
Legacy
could easily take the corvette that was escorting her, but she wouldn’t be alone for long.  The other ships would quickly turn to engage before he’d have a chance to board the freighter.  And then the heavy cruiser would have her hands full.  But there was no way of knowing what the others would do.  Would they cut their losses and leave the two ships to their fate, or would they turn and engage? 

              “Are the two groups close enough together to support each other?” he asked, rubbing his chin.

              Ensign Perrin shook his head.  “No, sir, but I’m not entirely sure about their speed and acceleration rates, but there should be a small window where we can operate without interference from the larger mass of ships.”

              Harth nodded.  “When we do, then what will the freighter do?  Are they going to be good and stick around, seeing as how we’re a Republic warship?  Or are they going to bolt for the hyper limit?”

              No one had a good answer.  He didn’t blame them, he didn’t have an answer either.  Finally he nodded, making up his mind.  “Hail the
Grania Estelle
,” he ordered.  “But make sure that the other ships are included in my broadcast.”

              The communications officer nodded, then after a moment said, “You’re on, sir.”

              “
Grania Estelle
, this is Commander Harth on the
Legacy
.  You are ordered to heave to prepare to be boarded.  If you do not do so, we will open fire.  Any ships that attempt to stop me from my goal will be fired upon and destroyed.”  He flicked his eyes to the comm officer, who cut the transmission.  “Let’s hear what they say.”

              “Captain, you are not to respond to that message,” the soldier informed Eamonn.  His weapon was pointed directly at the captain’s head.  The man was completely calm, as though the two of them were standing in a coffee shop and he was placing his order.  “You will continue on course for the hyper limit and you will not deviate from that unless either I or Captain Verrikoth orders it.  Now, sit yourself back down in your chair and give the order to the helm.”

              Eamonn worked his jaw and slowly lowered himself back into the seat.  Fists clenched, he turned back to the main display.  “Helm,” he ground out, “Continue on course.  Serinda, radio silence for now.”

              The two officers chorused acknowledgement, not making eye contact with anyone, for fear that the soldiers would pay attention to them.  Serinda’s hands were shaking, both from fear and from shame.  She wasn’t strong enough to stand up to these men, not like Kutok, and after seeing what they had done to her the woman couldn’t even look up at anyone on the bridge.  Her friend had been horribly wounded and the only ones who had tried to move were the Captain and Tamara.  She’d been aboard this ship for years, far longer than the former Republic engineer, had been friends with the black insectoid female since almost the beginning of her tenure.  And she’d just stood there and let the bastard shoot her.  Her eyes burned and she blinked hard to hold back the tears and she clenched her fists to control the shaking.