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XXIII : UNFINISHED BUSINESS

 

The shipyards idly hung suspended in their orbit around the greenish planet below, surrounded by squadrons of clean-lined Reaver ships, their hulls of bluish metal gleaming dully in the orangish light of the system's primary star. A few spears patrolled back and forth in larger orbits, a few more trailing about along the perimeter of the system. None were aware of their commander's fierce grin at the cruel knife in his chest, the fields of energy around it cauterizing the wound until its limited batteries died, becoming a permanent addition to his body; none were aware of his executive staggering back, instinctually coughing and gasping for air, eyes glaring at his commander. None were aware, initially, the first instant they had another superbattleship in their midst.

Six lances of harsh light visible and invisible burn through the structure of the fleetyard in an instant, cored reactors exploding in silence as the curved structural members buckle and tear away, the entire latticework dissolving around the increasing ball of radiation and dust that was the central structure. Thousands of Reaver technicians and warriors aboard, and their captured Thaurian slaves, were never aware of their own deaths either impending or realized.

"On the move," Nibnumber said simply as Liogas leaned forward and ordered the engines to full acceleration, the massive bulk of Ares beginning to slip away from the planet.

In unreality, Ares sighed, looking through the static of jumpwash at the barely-visible station coming apart. All planned in advance, with nothing taken to chance--just the cold equations of orbital mechanics. No challenge, no need for skill whatsoever. All she was for was for far, far superior reaction times--pulling the trigger at the flash, as it were. Nothing deserving of a sentient ship-mind.

Xonmik's eyes went wide, staring far, far through Pikbuuv, the room, and everything else. His commander glared right back, thin lips curling up in a cruel growl. "What is it?"

"I think," Xonmik coughed again, spitting the blood from his mouth, "that your act was somewhat hasty. We have company and... no shipyard."

Ares continued to fall away from the debris, her enemies, her engines distorting space to accelerate herself at a few thousand gravities. Her opponents slowly turned and began to give chase, weapons firing piecemeal at first, slowly zeroing in. "Jumpwash fading, sir," Val reported coolly, "and we're obtaining firing solutions."

The fleet admiral nodded shortly. "Ka-Ri, organize weapons fire--priorities are small craft we can take out with a few shots. Maintain volume but low mass against heavies--just try to blind them and keep them from achieving lock. Make every shot count." Leaning slightly on one elbow, he closed the contact which opened a connection to the engine room. "Onri, engines are on full priority. Don't bother powering discharged weapons."

"Acting, sir," are the responses both from the Kzroth sitting next to him and the human a few kilometers away. On the hull of the superbattleship, ball turrets lock into place, emitters power towards their foes, and gunports open. More blazers lanced out, splaying over the collapsing shields of Reaver destroyers before punching wide holes straight through their armor, destroying them in flashes of light. Torpedoes spewed towards the Reaver superbattleship just now beginning to turn in pursuit.

"Concentration, point-defense!" howled Xonmik in his mind as he growled at Pikbuuv. "We have that spiteful superbattleship just outside lobbing torpedoes at us, and it has just destroyed the fleetyards! This is the result of your brilliant plan, just as I warned--an attack on a facility vital to both its enemies!"

Pikbuuv laughed low, a chortle bubbling with blood. "And so they attack with insufficient force to take us all. We survive to spite them, we survive to destroy them." He paused for a moment, then roared--"Do so!"

"Helm, begin a controlled three-axis rotation; let's give our gunners active guns to play with. Sci, give me a report on fleetyard status."

The mighty ship began to slowly tumble separate from its direction of motion, additional weapons streaking out and wreaking pain and destruction as they came to bear. Meanwhile, Val looked over the immediate summaries built up by automated sensors, an array of sensor technicans, and Ares herself. "Quite a bit of salvage there, but as for fulfilling the function as a repair and supply depot, absolutely worthless. Let's see... we've got a few ships cutting moorings right now... some destroyers, a cruiser or two, and... four Thaurian battle-cruisers."

"That's a coincidence," Phillip mused. "Record all information you can on those." Leaning forward, he tapped his communications contact again. "Onri, time to jump?"

"Two more minutes, sir."

A low rumble pervaded the ship as a Reaver cruiser brought her main gun to bear, energy scattered by Ares wavicle shielding and burning off a thin layer of armor over a large area, wire-fine conduits piping excess energy to unchallenged radiators and ship systems to further reduce the blow. The fleet admiral glanced to the Kzroth, who shrugged a little in response. "Not much of a combat efficiency reduction from that last, although we've now got several blazer emitters down in the fore-port-dorsal octant. Could get nasty if several more cruisers start coordinating their big guns."

"Target priority for anti-ship weapons, those cruisers which haven't fired their main guns." Nibnumber frowned. "We'll be cutting it close, but those others shouldn't recharge in time."

Ka-Ri nodded and immediately changed the priority listings on his console, several kiloblazers then reaching out to swat incoming cruisers out of the stars.

"General, if I may be so bold," Xonmik hissed, "we should be combining our forces for a concerted strike rather than sending them randomly to be defeated! We need organization--"

"Silence," Pikbuuv growled as he walked down the corridor towards the command room, "we shall defeat them before they defeat us, oh yes. My dreams have been haunted enough--"

"Never mind," Xonmik scowled, receiving reports in his unwounded mind. "They're gone."

Just as instantly as Ares came, she left.

 


 

"Well, I'm back." Ares tromped into the foyer, stretching slightly as her eyes flitted about, carefully taking in the artificial scenery. "Got some news for the invalid."

'Bane rolled her eyes, frowning a little as she looked up from... whatever it was she was doing at the table in the sitting room. "You could try and be respectful of my guests every once in a while, Ares."

"It's accurate, isn't it?" I commented wryly. "Anyway... what is it?"

"Not much yet," Ares explained, "just that when I took down the fleetyards we saw some Thaurian ships there."

"Thaurian shipyard, Thaurian ships... am I the only one not overly surprised by this relationship?" I quipped.

"Four battlecruisers? Same make and model of those that dusted your homeworld?"

I froze. "Ares," 'Bane snapped.

"Didn't get to frag them, so if they really are the ones you're still free to get your revenge." The superbattleship's avatar shrugs, speaking blithely. "Nevertheless, looking back at what I saw... the Hiss will be interested, that's for sure. Doesn't look like any comm traffic or groupnav, and that's just weird for Thaurian ships."

 


 

"That it is," Director G't'zazz commented, clicking its blue maxillae together. "They seem to match up rather well with the four observed by our Time Machines but there's no direct evidence. Having just disengaged from what was left of the fleetyards, their groupnav could have been down for maintenance and they didn't have time to talk to anyone."

"How often is it that Reavers use other species' fleets for anything other than salvage?" J'hsen sneered, leaning forward in her chair over the simple lines of her desk.

"When the system they were captured in is vital and they're low on resources, pretty often," G't'zazz countered. "Tell ya what. I'll arrange a Hiss covert op onto one of those ships--sneak in, take a look around, see what's going on. The Time Machines got hull markings off of the attackers, so if these match up, then we've got our culprits unless the Reavers are just hero-worshipping... which is something they don't do."

"All right." The Supreme Emperor frowned. "This would make things easier, after all--only one immediate enemy instead of two... but things never go our way that way, do they?"

The Koltrop merely shrugged.

 

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