Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (61 page)

              “Well, sir, shield output is
much
higher,” Brister started ticking things off on his fingers.  “It looks like all the hull damage was patched up.  I don’t detect any breaches in their hull structure.  They’re also armed with four laser cannons, but I don’t think we really need to worry about those.  Our shields should be able to handle that.”  He pursed his lips.  “But with shield strength as high as it is, and their structure as reinforced as I think it is, I’d be confident to say that ship might be able to make hyperspace levels as high as Yellow.”

              Harth blinked.  “Yellow?  You’re kidding me.”

              Brister shook his head.  “No, Skipper, I’m not.  I know they’re not as fast as us, but we’ve been tooling around in the Green because we figured there was no reason to rush.  But if they’re flying around in the Yellow?”  He paused, thinking.  “Well, they could be in Yullankla, Borea, or Tritoll by now if they went through Kazyanenko like we suspect.”

              Harth grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Then I guess it’s time to stop meandering around, XO.  Once we depart here, take us up into the Blue.”

              The XO smiled.  “Aye, Captain,” he said with feeling.

              “Captain, I’m interested in the debris patterns we detected that are on a vector for Kazyanenko,” Brister replied.  The others in the room turned to him.  He spoke slowly, as though he was working it out in his own mind.  “So,
Grania Estelle
comes into the system, they steal some sort of cargo and then flee the system.”

              “That’s the consensus of the local officials and the Captain of the
Ganges
,” the XO agreed.

              “Convenient,” Harth muttered, and there were nods.

              “Skipper, does that make any sense?” Brister asked.  “A bulk cargo freighter comes into a system with significant military presence and then they decide to steal an important cargo?”

              “Actually, sir,” Lieutenant Sophia Phillips replied, “From what I gather from the people I talked to,
Grania Estelle
actually brought the cargo in question.”

              Brister looked over at the Intelligence officer.  “Wait, Sophia, when did you get down to the planet?  No shuttles have departed the ship.”

              She nodded.  “No, sir, they haven’t.  I used the comm system and called some of the cargo dispatch people.”  She smirked.  “They were very forthcoming.”

              They all chuckled.  But Brister sobered quickly.  “So that makes even less sense.  The freighter comes in system, bringing a cargo of gadolinium with them, tells everyone they have it, then says ‘ha ha suckers’ and takes off across the system trying to escape?  There’s no chance that
Grania Estelle
’s captain is that stupid.”

              “So what are you suggesting, Commander?” Phillips asked. 

              “I’m thinking that the locals were less than fair with our freighter jocks,” he said bluntly.  “I think
Grania Estelle
must have brought the cargo from Folston, and the people here wouldn’t pay up.  They tried to play hardball and the freighter captain told them to go screw themselves.”

              Phillips lit up and she picked up the thread.  “Yes, Commander!  I think you’re right.  So then the locals decide they’re not going to let some jumped up freighter bums dictate terms to them.  They launch their fighters and prepare to board the freighter.”

              “But then the freighter fights them off?” the XO asked.  “Yes, according to
Ganges
’ sensor data,
Grania Estelle
was armed with a quartet of laser cannons, but does anyone here actually think they’d do well against five or six starfighters?”  The rest of the table looked dubious.  “So there must be more to this.”

              “I think if they had pocket missile launchers,
Ganges
would have been happily spouting further excuses as to why they couldn’t take the freighter,” Harth mused.  “Four laser cannons is the bare minimum of prudence out here in the Cluster.  But missiles?  The locals and Commander Tyler would have been screaming that this was an armed merchant cruiser.”

              Chuckles went around the table again.  “Even with all her refits, the freighter would be no match for the
Ganges
, Skipper,” Brister said.  “So the locals must have launched the fighters and gone after them.  And, clearly, the freighter fought them off and escaped.”

              “Yes, but how?” the XO demanded.  “Unless they’ve got modern targeting system and very well drilled crews, I find it unlikely that a freighter the size of this one could shoot down a half dozen of these
Centurion
fighters.”

              “Tyler is no help,” Harth said.  “He’s just touting the strength and power of his ship and how he valiantly chased away the vile pirates until they dishonorably trapped him into sparing their lives or losing the cargo they needed to outfit their hyperdrive.”  He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head.  “Sophia, you and Grey are to go down to the planet and do your thing.  Find out as much as you can about the locals, the Imogen people, and especially the encounter with the
Grania Estelle
.  You know what to do.”

              She nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

              “Everyone else, put feelers out, but be gentle about it.  We’ll stay here for three days and then we’ll be on our way to Kazyanenko.”

              The XO frowned.  “Sir, I understand you want to get information, but shouldn’t we be underway immediately?  The ship might jump away again before we can get to Kazyanenko.”

              Harth nodded in understanding.  “I know, XO, I do.  I want to catch that ship.  But if they’re able to destroy six starfighters and swan off to another system, I want to know what exactly it is that we’re chasing.  They’ve got to have some sort of weapons system that we’re not aware of and I think we need to know what it is.  All right.”  He stood, putting his hands down.  “You’re all dismissed.  Get to work.  And XO, you can announce liberty.  That’s the other reason.  I want our crew to have at least a few hours of leave.”

             
Fury
dropped out of hyperspace in the Trullium system, weapons and shields already raised and ready.  Without warning, a small battle station just inside the hyper limit locked on to the Republic corvette and opened fire, its rail guns spewing projectiles. 

              “They’re firing, Captain!” the ops officer cried.

              “Easy, Ops,” Wallace Sykora replied calmly.  “Helm, bring us to three-two-three mark five-five, increase speed to full.  Guns, take out that station, please.”

              The corvette twisted and climbed up over the plane of the ecliptic, grasers and rail guns returning fire.  The station’s fire glanced off
Fury’s
shields, causing them to flare opaque.  The station had three rail gun cannons, firing metal slugs at the interloper in the system.  The corvette fired back, their own storm of metal slamming into the station’s shields.  The grasers hammered bolts of energy into the shields, causing the tiny station to wobble slightly in its position in space.

              “Ready missiles,” Sykora ordered.  The ship passed over the top of the station, weapons blazing, taking as many hits as they gave.  The portside launcher opened fire, sending three Sierra missiles arcing around to explode against the shields of the station.  Simultaneously,
Fury
’s grasers continuously fired into the brief opening created by the missile detonations.  The energy blasts tore into the exposed metal of the station’s hull, ripping it open to space.

              “One more salvo,” he ordered, and the rail guns and grasers opened up once more.  The strikes sheared off a section of the station, ripping apart hull plating and vaporizing it in other places, leaving a trail of superheated and super cooled metal streaming away from the station, looking like blobs of metal.  A power conduit must have been severed, for all of the lights on the side of the station facing
Fury
went dark. 

              “Should we finish it off, Captain?” Lieutenant Vos asked.

              “No, XO, I think we’re going to leave it as is.”  Wallace rubbed his chin.  “Helm, alter course, head us in toward the habitable planet.  Tactical, remain on alert.  I’m sure there are more surprises out there.”

              “Aye, Captain.”  Both officers chorused in response.

              “XO, damage report?”

              Lieutenant Vos was nodding slowly as the reports came in, showing up on his display.  “Moderate damage to the forward and ventral shields, Captain.  No penetrations, though.  Engineering is already rebuilding the shields, though.  Should be back up to full power in about thirty minutes.”

              “Good.”  Sykora checked his own display over the weapons that had been expended in that last encounter.  Three Sierra missiles and just under six hundred rail gun slugs.  Not bad.  No damage to his ship.  The crew was performing well.  He nodded to himself.  “Good work everyone.  Continue on course.”

              The trip in system took over a day and a half.  Sykora didn’t strain his engines and didn’t want his crew worn out and exhausted once they arrived.  This system was dangerous enough without his crew falling asleep on watch from sheer fatigue. 

              For the thousandth time since setting off on course to this system Sykora wondered if this was the best idea.  He had orders, but Trullium was not a system one came to lightly.  The system was well populated, the fourth planet was heavily populated.  There were several large cities down on the planet, with a total population at about a hundred million, a mix of humans and aliens a good portion of who were Severites.  The planet had a very slight axial tilt, which meant a great deal of the planet was tropical and subtropical.  The planet had two large land masses and a fair amount of industry.  The cities were formed in areas surrounding the industry, which made sense, though some of those industries had sprung up since the Republic had departed the Cluster since the war.  All of these things made the Trullium system someplace that people would want to go; it should be a place of commerce and trade.

              And it was, up until about sixty years ago.  A mutiny took place aboard the pirate cutter
Ysleth
, the second in command murdered his captain and assumed command.  At that time, Verrikoth, the new captain of the tiny pirate vessel decided that things needed to change.  Verrikoth, a brutal and intelligent male zheen, decided that he would no longer be subject to the old way of doing things.  His previous captain had abided by the limitations of his equipment and personnel.  The
Ysleth
was a small vessel, only capable of carrying a crew of eight, armed with a spinal-mounted neutron cannon and a dorsal mounted rail gun.  It had decent speed and excellent maneuverability and the previous captain had retrofitted it with a hyperdrive.  The ship couldn’t make anything past Red level three, so what it actually meant it was confined to a small portion of the Cluster, because the cutter couldn’t carry the supplies needed for a long journey, even only for a crew of eight.

              Verrikoth was undaunted by this.  His days of being a bottom feeder, latching onto the dregs that happened to pass through the system the
Ysleth
was in were over.  Which meant that the first order of business was to secure a better ship.  So he did.  The first ship he found was a small cargo ship, needing a crew of twenty and capable of holding a decent amount of swag.  The
Ysleth
was stripped down to the bare metal of the frame and all of its equipment, especially the weapons, was transferred over to the new ship.  He got himself a bigger crew and set off into the Argos Cluster to make a name for himself. 

              Sixty years later, Verrikoth had certainly done that.  He now commanded a small fleet of eight ships; all modified cargo ships outfitted with heavy weapons and had garnered a reputation as a thief and a merciless killer.  He had set up a base of operations on Trullium, which now had the umbrella of his protection over it.  He did not prey upon his home, though he did retain an enhanced status there.  His ships were given priority for refueling and repair and his compound was lavish.  Freighters came into this system every month, and currently the shipyard was in the process of building two more cargo vessels to move goods about the Cluster.

             
Fury’s
sensors detected four cargo ships in orbit of the Trullium Four, but none of them were broadcasting any kind of identification nor were any of them moving out to meet the incoming Republic ship.

              “Should we be concerned that no one is challenging us, Skipper?” Vos asked, sounding a bit concerned. 

              Sykora shrugged.  “I don’t think so.  Verrikoth will contact us when he’s ready.  Though you can be sure he knows we’re here by now.”

              “Is he going to be upset about the battle station?”             

              The lieutenant actually considered that.  Then he sighed.  “Probably.  But I’m not going to lose sleep over it.  It attacked as soon as we came out of hyperspace.”