Merc...
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Chapter 15 - Back to base.
"Get Commander Parrel on secondary viewer!" Caran ordered.
"Parrel here!"
"Have you done a structural scan of the ship?" Caran ordered.
Parrel responded, "Yes! It's looks to be much stronger than any ship we have. We're a little bit uncertain of the shield configuration and what effect it will have."
"Can we stop it?" Admiral Ottal asked the question.
"Yes we have high confidence that we can!" Parrel answered with a definite assurance in his voice.
"We'll keep the com open in case there are any developments." Ottal instructed. Turning his attention to the tactical officer, "Have all fighters in position! Try to keep that wolf pack away from the back end of the rings."
Caran thought for a moment, "Commander Parrel, do you have an estimate as to which ring the ship will stop in."
"We're looking at ring twelve or thirteen! Why?"
"Can you offline ring fourteen?" Caran asked, Ottal glanced up.
"Any reason?"
"To catch a pack of wolves!" Ottal responded.
Caran gave a brief nod, and Ottal smiled. Parrel also gave a wry smile, "We'll put it in maintenance mode, just in case any of the other rings fail."
The tactical officer reported, "All fighters now in position. AIC ships just completing maneuvers."
"Bring the Gallators Fate to the left side of the final ring. Distance four k's."
The viewer scaled back as the ship came closer. The minutes of waiting seemed to drag. Each ring had a different dampening density to prevent massive shock loading on the ship. In the brief time the ship was in each field the dampening effect rose to match the next ring and prevent any transitory shock from one ring to the next. The energy lost by the ship was absorbed and recycled back into the field. The first ring was the most important as at high velocity the initial boundary was the equivalent of running through mist or slamming into solid rock. Once in the field the dampening effect would be uniform across the whole ship.
"Ship entering first field!" Even as the science officer said the words the ship was already to the third ring. "Ship stopped, thirteenth ring, dead centre." The ceramic outer hull of the alien vessel glowed for several minutes as it cooled
There was a sigh of relief.
"All ships report in! Where are those Split?" Ottal requested.
The tactical officer responded, "They're closing in on the ship."
"Are they in the field of the fourteenth gate?" Caran asked.
"Last one entering now."
Caran looked at Parrel on the secondary viewer. "Commander Parrel, activate the fourteenth ring, we have some unwelcome visitors!"
The request was acknowledged. "Ring activated. Split ships are restrained."
"Sir we are receiving incoming protests from the Split flight leader!"
Admiral Ottal smiled at the communications officer, "Let them protest!"
The communications officer responded, "Sir the Split Raptor and Pythons are powering engines and moving towards the Hatikvah's Faith Gate!"
"Damn! What about our support ships?" Ottal demanded.
"They are responding to the threat."
Commander Parrel had ordered the next phase of the mission to begin. Already the primary thirteen rings were being collapsed and packed into modified transports.
The alien craft was being fitted with a temporary thruster harness, scans of the ship were confusing but one thing was certain, the inside of the ship was frozen, it's temperature minus two hundred degrees. Any atmosphere within the ship would be liquid on the floor. The heating of the exterior of the ship though the dampening field resistance barely effected the internal temperature.
The unusual readings on the shield prevented them risking transporting an android unit across. However the engine and the shield appeared to be the only functioning devices on an otherwise dead ship. An automated tactical recovery unit glided up to the to determine the location of the hatch.
Caran had been specific not to disguise the ship until they could mask its presence from the Split fighters.
As the recovery unit suction sealed itself to the door, the temporary engines engaged and the ship once again began to move.
The modified Prometheus flanked the alien craft, with several of the Titan's Elite fighters, and guided it towards the Roamers docking bay. Transports and maintenance robots from the rings were already returning. Within the gathering of ships just outside the docking bay the change occurred and to all sensor readings a new Lifter had emerged from the Roamer. The fighters broke formation leaving only the Prometheus with the new freighter.
The fourteenth ring was powered down, AIC fighters closely monitored the activities of the Split for any sign of reprisal, but they headed back towards the Split sectors trading insults with anyone listening in.
"Admiral, order as many fighters as you can to the Nopileo's Memorial Gate. We need to reach the sector before the Raptor blocks the incoming gate." Caran ordered. Then switched his attention to Parrel. "Commander, have the Lifter and Prometheus follow the Gallators Fate! When you've finished collecting your equipment follow us, you may jump after we have secured the receiving gate!"
"Acknowledged! Parrel out." The com closed.
"Helm set a course for Nopileo's Memorial, full." Ottal ordered, grateful to be on the move again. The Titan moved forward and began to turn. The fighter groups were already heading for the gate. The Titan would inevitably reach it first, however time was of the essence and gathering the fighters into the docking bay would take too long.
"Caran, hate to point this out but having the Raptor ahead of us and pirates, known to be allied to the Split, behind us makes me uncomfortable." Ottal commented. "Perhaps you can use some of your negotiation skills to get the Paranid forces to keep the Pirates occupied? Maybe even give us another route out of here?"
"Not getting nervous are you Admiral?" Caran observed.
Ottal looked at him, "The Raptor's a big ship and quick, we can out run him, even out gun him, but it's a tough ship and can take considerably much more punishment then we can. It also has a larger compliment of fighters than we do. Now if a Paranid Zeus or Odysseus arrived then the Raptor would be forced to retreat."
"If one of those arrived I think we'd leave via Brennan's Triumph!" Caran paused, "Just so you know. The Paranid priests have ordered their forces to break the pirates hold on the sector gates. Unfortunately for us it'll take too long. Also the Paranid will not get involved with any military action against the Split. The Priesthood have made it clear they are breaking the Pirate blockade to reopen the trade route and for no other reason. Which is why they did not start their military action earlier!"
"The priesthood are playing a political game then!" Ottal commented.
Caran responded, "I can see their point. If the other four races stood against the Split then life in the outer regions could become very difficult as they hold vital supply routes."
Priest Champion Resomankcetolo, captain of the Zeus Trumk studied the latest intelligence data for the receiving gate. He had placed the ship four k's from the gate out of Split Fire. In formation to the left and right, were two Odysseus M2 battlecruisers.
He took stock of the fighters poised upon his command to enter into battle. Amongst them, two flights of the latest Perseus ships, two more flights of Prometheuss', and a mixture of new and old M4 fighter groups mostly from the sector patrol flights.
"Launch mine sweeper probes." This was just the start, once a path had been cleared fast Pegasus ships would swarm the sector, followed by more mine sweepers, then the Perseus and Prometheuss' ships to clear away the lasertowers and larger defensive craft, eventually the rest of the fleet would follow.
The plan was in place, but he had concerns, the configuration and layout of the lasertowers had been carefully thought out and any hostile ship was going to have difficulty getting past. The speed of the Pegasus he hoped would draw the towers to point away from the gate without being destroyed. This would enable the other ships to swarm in behind.
"Sweeper probes entering gate." The tactical officer reported. A few moments later, "All sweepers now destroyed. Minefields still eighty-percent active. Launching second wave of sweepers."
Resomankcetolo commented, "Send a another wave ten marks after that."
"Yes Sir! Third wave now launched."
The Priest Champion waited. "Update?"
"Sir. Minefield now at sixty four percent active, Sir."
Resomankcetolo sat back, this was going to take its time, as they were simply chipping away at the defenses.
The Gallators Fate made the jump. It had cleared the sector gate and found a suitable position when the AIC Roamer jumped in behind.
Admiral Ottal looked concerned, "Where's the Raptor?"
The tactical officer checked the scans. "Sir it's just making the jump!"
The distant gate activated and the massive bulk of the Split M1 destroyer moved a short distance from the opening.
"Sir, target ship, launching fighters. I'm detecting two fighter groups of new generation Mambas, and three fighter groups of standard Mambas, Sir."
The Raptor was holding position. The Roamer was releasing its own fighter groups having had the time to recall them. The gate was also active as the Titans own fighters emerged from Danna's Chance.
As the last few crossed into the sector including the Lifter. Caran sent a coded signal, the ship moved away from the gate then out towards the distant asteroid belt. The AICs two Eels joined the modified Prometheus in taking a wide sweep to track the Lifter and prevent any interception. To the Split it was to appear like a trader taking a wide berth of the opposing battle formations.
The Raptor held position waiting and keeping its fighters close by.
"I guess this is it then." Ottal spoke out load then opened a ship wide coms channel, "Admiral to crew. We will shortly be engaging the Split. All crew to battle stations, primary internal blast doors to be closed and secured. Secondary access airlock doors on automatic. Medical teams on standby. All gunners to be suited, primary airlock doors closed and emergency exit doors open. Transporter crews have all crew tagged and logged, and that includes our fighter pilots. I want minimum casualties and may the ancients favour us!"
Caran settled himself in front of a tactical monitor, as the Admiral now took full control of the ship. He observed the Split Raptor would hold position at the gate and block any exit. This meant it was a sitting target for heavy missiles. If the Raptor moved then it would allow ships an opportunity to escape. By keeping the Roamer close by Caran hoped this would help divide the Split attack forces.
As the ships' distance reduced, it became more apparent the Split fighters were not going to stray too far from the main ship.
"Admiral hold position!" Caran requested.
"Helm hold position." Ottal looked round, "What is it?"
"We need to approach the gate from the other side!"
"Helm set course vector three zero, zero five, one five, and bring up around to the back of the gate, speed three seven five. Tactical target fighters and Raptor, lets see what damage we can do as we go past. Have all fighters hold."
The big ship turned slowly to follow the vector before engaging engines. Caran relayed a message back to the Roamer for it to make a run at the gate when ordered.
Plasma cascaded away from the Titan as soon as the forward gunners were in range of any split craft, the Mambas broke formation to avoid the incoming shots before they could respond with plasma of their own and missiles.
The Raptor responded firing towards the Titan. Its shields dropping to eighty five percent as it accelerated away with missiles trailing in its wake.
"Sir one of the AIC Prometheus ships is attacking Split forces."
"On screen!" Ottal ordered.
The viewer switched and enhanced.
"Bloody fool what does he think he's doing!"
The Prometheus had engaged a Mamba whose shields had taken damage from the Titans weapons. The Mamba was struggling to break free its shields critically low. The other Split ships were swarming trying to catch the Prometheus in a hail of crossfire whilst not hitting one of their own craft.
The Mamba exploded. It's pilot escaping to be transported to the capital ship. The Prometheus shot away hornets in tow, with the trailing pack of Mambas' now at liberty to shoot openly. The shields on the Prometheus dropped to fifty percent. Then as it slowed and turned the ship appeared to divide to a strong image and it's ghost.
"What the?" Admiral Ottal exclaimed.
"Shadow technology!" Caran answered.
"You can tell me about it later!" Ottal ordered.
"Pursuing missiles self destructed!" The tactical officer announced.
"Helm bring us around head towards the gate!" Ottal now needed to get back.
The tracking on the Prometheus showed it dive towards the Raptor, the Split fighters and gunners confused by the readings and the lack of visual confirmation. Another Mamba called for assistance, to be swiftly silenced.
Suddenly the guns of the Raptor opened up as the image of the Prometheus went through the ship hornets close behind.
"My god!" Admiral Ottal exclaimed as the hornets impacted, "The Prometheus?"
"Intact. It's position just switched Sir!"
"All ships status." Ottal ordered
"The Split fighters are staying close to the Raptor. The Raptor shields are down to seventy percent, registering some hull damage and one gunning tower destroyed. Sir our ships are holding position and awaiting orders. AIC ships also holding position with the exception of the Prometheus, Sir!" The tactical officer finished his update.
"Any idea who's flying that ship." Ottal glanced at Caran.
"A Paranid named Polmanckelest I believe." Caran responded.
Ottal thought for a moment. "The Polmanckelest? Priest Champion, Paranid Special Forces."
"The very same." Caran replied.
"And you just happened to know he was assigned to support the AIC on the Roamer?"
"I did!" Caran confirmed.
"And that if he gets himself killed out there we'll be at war with the Paranid?" Ottal commented.
"Or we'll have to do a lot of explaining why! Not sure which is worse and yes the thought had crossed my mind!" Caran remained still.
"So what's he doing running stupid risks?" Ottal muttered.
The Titan was closing fast on the gate.
Ottal ordered. "Helm bring us to a stop, preferably outside the range of the Raptors weapons!"
"Sir the Raptor is recalling all of its fighters."
"Helm go for the gate!" Caran commanded.
"What the?." Ottal stood up and looked up at the towering figure of Caran, the glint of light in the metal plate catching his eye.
"The Raptor will hold the receiving gate. If it does that then we'll be forced to try and break the Pirate blockade through Brennan's Triumph!" Caran commented.
The helmsman looked at Ottal to confirm the order.
"Do it!" Ottal commanded.
The Titan moved forward again.
"We're going to take one hell of a beating when we approach the gate as we can't jump at speed." Ottal commented.
"Give us fighter support, hornets on the Raptor and any of its fighters." Caran looked down.
"Fighters to engage enemy! Missiles on Split capital ship!" Ottal gave the order.
The forward gunner crews of the Gallators Fate began to open fire as the ship drew closer to the Raptor. The Split ship was turning slowly on its axis to align itself with the gate. The firefight began as the Titan approached the gate at slow speed and the Raptor completed its turn. There were explosions across the hull of the split ship as hornet missiles impacted. Plasma flew in all directions as fighters engaged in multiple dogfights.
"Sir, Shields seventy percent!" The tactical officer announced. "We have lost gunning towers seven and ten, hull ruptures in forward sections twenty, twenty two through to twenty seven, Sir."
"Time to jumpgate?"
"Ten seconds, Sir" Helm reported,
The Raptor was struggling as its shields recovered from the multiple missile hits having lost a number of gun towers.
"Raptor Shields now at thirty percent, detecting two shield unit failures and four gunning towers damaged. Fighter casualties, we have five Elites and seven Busters down. Two more Elites damaged. AIC casualties two Elites, three Piranhas and an Eel. Split casualties, six new generation Mambas and seven old generation Mambas. " Tactical reported, "Sir we have Mamba's circling the gate Hornets have been released!"
"How long to the gate?" Ottal ordered.
"Five, four, three, two." The Gallators Fate shook with the impact of the missiles.
"One, jumping."
The Raptor had completed its maneuver and loomed large in the viewer, then disappeared as the gate opened.
As they emerged from the receiving gate, Ottal ordered, "Full ahead, get us some distance!"
Things were not going well in Hatikvah's Faith, the supporting Titan had taken a severe pounding. Fires fueled by escaping gas billowed from several breaches in its hull. Primary drive was off line as it attempted to limp back towards the Aladna Hill Gate on secondary control thrusters. Over half it's gunning towers were damaged and over half it's shield units were destroyed. It's remaining fighters providing a rear guard action to allow the ship time to withdraw.
The Boron Moray had crippled one of the Pythons now running on half shields and secondary power, but most of its gunning towers were still active. The second Python was trying to harass the faster Moray.
A scan of fighters showed the Split had the advantage. A good number of these were supporting the damaged Python.
The tactical officer announced. "Sir the Raptor has entered the sector. It's ordered that we be prevented from crossing the sector!"
"What's our status?" Ottal ordered.
The officer reported, "We have lost one shield unit. Several new hull breaches from the missile impacts. Areas contained. Only gunning towers seven and ten off line, Sir."
"Can they catch us?" Ottal requested.
"The active Python will intercept us before we're half way through the sector. Sir."
"Get the Moray to assist us, we'll do some damage together!" Ottal requested.
The Raptor was in pursuit despite the heavy damage it had sustained. Behind it the jumpgate was disgorging the remainder of the Mamba fighter groups. No allied ships followed.
Priest Champion Resomankcetolo was about to enter the second phase of the campaign to remove the pirate blockade of Brennan's Triumph when his communications officer alerted him to an urgent message from Paranid Prime.
"Put it on viewer!"
"Yes, Sir." The communications officer responded.
"Hail Priest Champion Resomankcetolo, you are ordered to desist your campaign to free the Brennans Triumph gates!" The white haired Priest Fleet Commander Oulomomankcet commanded.
"Do we have resolution, Sir?" Resomankcetolo asked.
"We have assurances from the Clan leader that if we desist in our action they will lift the blockade!" Oulomomankcet replied.
Resomankcetolo looked slightly perplexed, "And do we trust their word, Sir?"
"The Teladi Trading Guilds have acted as intermediaries in this, and the reports they have provided are verified! The Priest council has agreed to have your people stand down and return to Priest Pity. There have been numerous reports of pirate activity within the home systems. The return of sector forces is our primary goal!" The senior Paranid watched for a reaction.
Resomankcetolo addressed the officers on the bridge. "Notify all pilots and commanders that they are to stand down and return back their home sectors." Looking back towards the screen. "Sir, we are returning as ordered!"
Oulomomankcet nodded then closed the com.
Tor claimed his third Mandalay success, with a deft roll and quick reactions after a prolonged chase. The two Orinocos had fled when station fighters began to emerge from the nearby ore mine. Amongst the debris he had identified several undamaged missile containers. These were now in the hold.
"Tor I'm receiving an incoming message from the local Trading Station." Sweety reported.
"Put it though!"
"Station to Piranha pilot. In the name of the priests, for your actions we make you welcome to dock at any of our stations."
"Com closed." Sweety commented.
"Let's go see what a Paranid station looks like!" He responded. Turning the ship around he headed towards the trading station.
The ship touched against the dockside and clamps engaged. He took a moment to prepare himself.
"Sweety, from the Satellite data you have so far, what are the trading opportunities like around here?" Tor asked.
"My analysis indicates that there are good trading possibilities in many of the Paranid sectors we have mapped so far."
"How many credits do I have?" He asked.
"Current credits available, two million, three hundred thousand!"
Tor paused for a moment, "Sweety, do you think you can handle another couple of freighters?"
"Yes!" Sweety responded.
"Excellent, how about ordering a couple of Dolphins medium spec. Full engine and rudder upgrades and see if you can add in an extra five hundred cargo units on each ship!"
"Anything else?" Sweety asked.
"Get them down here and trading!" Tor stopped and thought for a moment, "What's Fenegalas up to?"
"He's currently trading in Ceo's Buckzoid. Carrying silicon wafers to the Crystal Fab." Sweety reported.
"I think when we've finished putting out a few more Satellites we should have a reunion!" Tor commented.
Tor opened the inner door and stepped into the airlock. The inner door closed before the outer door rolled back. He took a moment to look around. The holo-statues of ancient Paranid Priests gazed down at the throng of people. The traders were mainly Paranid with only a handful of representatives from the other races being present.
The attire of the Paranid varied from the general pilots' uniform, common to most races, to loose fitting robes. The station security wore robes bearing the insignia of the station and the staffs they carried were just larger versions of the pocket stun stick Tor carried around.
He wandered aimlessly through the station. Occasionally stopping to see what was on offer in the station trader stores and even meandering in to one from time to time. After a while he found himself looking at the latest personal pads.
"Can I help?" The voice of the Paranid salesman gave Tor a start.
"Umm, yes I think you may. My ship has an AI Personality chip on board. I was wondering is there anyway it can be plugged into one of these but still be able to monitor the ships internal systems?"
The salesman smiled, "Of course! But you'll need one of the technical data pad range not one of these personal pads! However they are expensive."
"How expensive?"
"The type you are after start at three thousand credits, the top of the range device is four and a half thousand credits." The salesman answered.
Tor swallowed hard, "That's a lot! Why are they so expensive?"
"You get full interface control with your ship. It can analyze how you fly and reconfigure the systems to optimize the response characteristics of the ship. The pad will also give full technical details on system efficiency and alert you to potential failures including point of failure location. Even if your ships own systems have failed. As an independently powered unit it will not suffer power surges." The salesman paused and was about to continue listing the features when Tor interrupted him.
"And can it be used just like a personal pad as well?"
"Of course it can, Sir." The salesman smiled again.
"Excellent I'll take one!"
The salesman looked slightly perplexed, "Which one would Sir like?"
"I think I'll have the hideously expensive one. Anything less and the personality AI will only complain!" Tor responded.
The Paranid smiled and guided Tor to examine the unit. It contained a large number of technical functions, all of which were lost on him. He was shown the interface location within the back of the pad for the AI chip, and how to remove and reinstall the protective cover plate.
Eventually Tor, thoroughly confused by all the details, took the pad and authorized the transaction. Then he went to find himself some refreshment and food.
The Paranid food and drink were quite different in texture and smell to anything he had tried before. Most of the food on the station was prepared in various flavoured and scented oils. Many of the oils being used were locally produced and a specialty of the area, Soja Beans featured heavily in the menu.
Tor desperately looked out for a meatsteak but none of the food halls had them on the menu. Eventually he tried the least offensive looking dish. Although he could stomach the food it left a slightly bitter taste in the mouth. Several Paranid ales later the taste was dulled but still present.
As he contemplated finding a rest room to get a few hours sleep he noticed an elderly argon man sat carefully studying from two data pads.
"Excuse me, Sir!"
The man glanced around slightly startled at being addressed, "Sorry, were you talking to me?"
"Didn't mean to disturb you! But I'm new around here and was wondering if you can tell me a little bit more about our Paranid hosts?" Tor asked conversationally.
"Ah. Yes, an interesting race so much culture and history to explore. Is there anything in particular you want to know?"
"Well I'm looking to start trading with them and wanted to make sure I don't have any cultural misunderstandings that might jeopardize any negotiation." Tor chose his words carefully.
"I see!" The man paused and gave Tor a thoughtful look. "And you're a Trader?"
"Well I'm more an opportunities explorer at the moment, with a small number of trading ships under my command." Tor replied.
"And what ship do you have?"
"A Boron Piranha. By the way the names Tor Grall!" Tor replied.
"Professor Jeron Autland! Pleased to meet you Tor. I can guess you've already made a favourable impression with the Paranid, by the fact that you're on this station!" Jeron replied, "But I think we can help each other out here. In return for my information with regards to dealing with the Paranid, I need a lift to the sector Montalaar." He paused. "Unfortunately my own aged transport ship engine has given up leaving me stranded here until a replacement can be obtained."
"I'm not familiar with that sector." Tor responded.
"It's a mere nine jumps from here!"
"Nine!" Tor hesitated, "That's a lot of sectors to go through! What's so important you need to go there?"
"I've been asked to do some research. Some colonists have discovered what they claim to be Xenon artifacts and need someone to verify their authenticity!" The Professor explained.
"Are there many Xenon artifacts left behind?" Tor asked.
"My word yes! For instance there's there remains of a Xenon station still in Bala Gi's Joy left over from the great war. Not much of it's left I hasten to add, and it's not easy to find either. Quite often when a new mining operation starts in the unclaimed sectors they find some remains of Xenon equipment left behind." Jeron paused in thought, "One day we hope to find an isolated fragment of Xenon AI or at least resurrect some of it so we can understand it better."
Tor had already decided to agree in transporting the Professor but spent a while longer talking to him before formally saying so.
