[05] Elite: Reclamation (43 page)

‘Put him on.’

The captain signalled for the jamming to be relented. The bridge holofac system flickered into life and the form of the Imperial ambassador appeared before Tenim and Jenu. They could see his two aides and two other gentlemen, one extremely large and one painfully thin, dressed in the garb of Patrons.

‘Ambassador Cuthrick,’ Tenim acknowledged.

‘Commissioner Neseva,’ Cuthrick’s voice was smooth and unruffled as ever. ‘Apologies if I seem hasty and wish to dispense with our traditional pleasantries, the matter at hand …’

‘Quite pressing,’ Tenim agreed. ‘Perhaps you didn’t receive our previous transmission. We have declared interstellar martial law as per statute. I humbly suggest you stand your fleet down. Your presence here is, sad to say, effectively illegal.’

‘The application of Federal martial law in an Imperial system is,’ Cuthrick lowered his head slightly, ‘rather unorthodox, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ Tenim replied. ‘Agreed statute allows for either power to implement interstellar martial law when a system’s government has dissolved and trade or the free passage of civilians is threatened. This system is rife with piracy and no stable government remains. In the absence of effective Imperial control …’

‘Our sincere apologies for our tardiness in resolving this matter,’ Cuthrick said. ‘As you are no doubt aware, we are now in a position to bolster the true government of this system. Might I suggest you stand your fleet down whilst we discuss the affair?’

‘Nothing would please me more.’ Tenim smiled grimly and then echoed the Ambassador’s words for emphasis. ‘But, as you are no doubt aware, we are bound by Federal law to enforce the application of interstellar martial law now that it has been officially declared. We have a ship blatantly contravening that regulation as we speak. Once that has been dealt with we will be more than happy to convene a discussion to that end.’

‘A single ship justifies such a deployment, Commissioner?’

‘A known criminal ambassador, masquerading as an Imperial Senator no less. A heinous crime.’

‘Perhaps given that crime, it might be more appropriate for us to deal with this individual? Masquerading as an Imperial Senator is a serious offence as you say. We would be happy to take this problem off your hands, so to speak, in the interests of interstellar peace and co-operation.’

‘Your offer is most generous,’ Tenim answered. ‘However, we will secure the individual as per policy, once they have been processed after due procedure we will release them into your custody. We believe that is right and proper. Is that clear, or do you need further clarification?’

Cuthrick inclined his head slightly. ‘Your intentions are very clear indeed, Commissioner.’

Below Tenim, one of the Federation scanner operatives turned in alarm, speaking rapidly to the captain.

‘Sir, we have the Cobra-class vessel on scanners. It’s emerged from the ring system. Our fighters have it surrounded. Imperial fighters attempting to divert …’

There was flash of light in distant space, a small explosion flickered briefly from the rings.

Abruptly Ambassador Cuthrick leant forward, his image distorting as the holofac tried to re-render his face at close range.

‘Commissioner! Admiral Brice will open fire. For all our sakes, desist …’

From across the transmission came the faint sound of orders being barked. Tenim couldn’t quite make out the words.

The transmission was abruptly cut off. The holofac flickered and died.

‘Cut off at the source, sir,’ the captain said in response to Tenim’s questioning look. ‘We’re entering firing range.’

Another crew member looked up from her instruments. ‘We’ve lost contact with our flight wing …’

***

The remaining Federation fighters followed the Cobra as it rotated up and out of the rings. They could see its shields had taken a hammering, partly from their weapons fire and partly from being unable to avoid minor collisions with stray pieces of debris from the rings.

The Cobra tore upwards, trailing a plume of disrupted flux drive energy and a flaming collection of dislodged dust and rock. The Federation fighters followed close behind, like a pack of angry bees hunting a besieged albatross.

For a moment the old trading vessel hung there before the fighters. The wing commander had a moment to take in the familiar shape of its two main drives, the triangular outrigger thrusters on the wing tips.

Laser fire traced around it. Belatedly the Imperial fighters had located them.

‘All ships, break and defend, break and defend …’

He’d waited a moment too long. A stray shot penetrated the cockpit. There was no immediate explosion, just the harsh snap of venting atmosphere from the cockpit. His remlok immediately compensated, protecting him from the harsh vacuum of space.

Rocks still clouded his view. He saw the Cobra dance to one side to avoid one as it hurtled past. He pulled his controls aside to follow.

Red lights flashed on his console.

Warning: Portside manoeuvring jets failure!

He cursed. Damage from the laser or from some other hit? He wrestled the controls the other way.

Turn … turn! No …

A brief explosion lit up the darkness. The errant rock spun away, unaffected.

***

‘Was it us?’ Admiral Brice demanded.

‘No sir, the Federation fighter simply got in the way, a stray shot … it crashed into a rock.’

Brice shook his head and looked briefly at the Federation convoy, looming still closer in the windows.

‘And the chances the Federation will see it that way?’

It was a rhetorical question. The pivot point had been reached. It was time to ensure he retained the advantage.

‘Cancel that damned holofac transmission. All batteries, open fire!’

***

‘They fired on us!’ The second in command called, his voice attenuated by the poor quality communication to the Federation battleship. ‘Wing lead is gone, I repeat gone. Imperial fighters took him out …’

Static crackled and obscured his voice.

‘The ‘stards fired on us …’ the captain muttered before raising his voice. ‘Weapons systems live, lock targets and open fire on the Imperials!’

The gunnery officer turned, looking directly at the captain. ‘Sir, we have incoming!’

The captain looked briefly at Tenim and then back to his crew.

‘All hands, defensive fire! Change course relative ninety degrees to starboard, engage at will.’

***

Along the portside flank of the Imperial vessels, flame jetted briefly into the void. Huge turrets launched ballistic ordnance along carefully plotted trajectories. Torpedoes, sleek elongated weapons of mass destruction, launched from their storage bays lodged along the lower hull of the vast ships. They streaked out, trailing plumes of vapour from their simple chemical engines.

The Federation fleet responded in kind. Space between the ships, empty for a moment, was promptly filled with criss-crossing metal, fire and hurtling debris.

Aboard all ships, smaller turrets tracked the incoming weapons and blasted out staccato bursts of defensive flak-fire. Brief explosions flashed in the darkness; a rain of fire and destruction connected the two fleets.

The fleets converged, ships breaking from formation to evade fire or gain a superior position. Beam weapons were triggered, scintillating rays of vicious directed energy, impaling smaller vessels, ripping shields away, burning through hulls and disgorging their internals into the void.

Ships died, the victims of unfortunate impacts to their main reactor cores, unleashing in seconds the stored energy necessary to power a vessel for months. Others heroically sacrificed themselves to prevent damage to a more valuable vessel. Still more, damaged or bereft of functioning weapons, resorted to high-speed ramming moves to inflict whatever damage they could.

Shields flashed and flickered, energy erupted and was deflected. Fighter vessels twisted around the larger ships, trading fire with each other. Minor victories were won, small defeats endured.

The fleets continued their melee.

Kahina caught sight of the battle as the
Bella Principessa
emerged from the rock field. She gasped in dismay as an Imperial cutter was impaled by a bright beam of intense fire from the
Xajorkith
. In horror she saw the cutter hang impotently for a moment, before its structure failed, separating into two major pieces which broke apart in opposite directions, shedding debris and fiery embers of disintegrating components through space. The
Bella Principessa
rocked briefly as Luko turned to avoid the wreckage.

How many people aboard that ship?

‘You have your war, signorina,’ Luko said darkly.

‘Get me to the station,’ she replied, her face ashen, but still firmly set.

All around them the firefight raged. The Federation ships unleashed a barrage of fire in their direction which the Imperial ships countered with their own, or simply intervened by positioning their own ships in a defensive posture. Fighters zipped and whirled around them, trading tracer fire in a deadly dance of death.

Luko guided the Cobra onwards, never triggering his own weapons, but threading a path through the bewildering tumult. He plotted a path that took them close to the Imperial battleship, hiding under the protection of its guns. As they raced across its hull, Kahina caught brief glimpses of the massive weapons protruding from the enormous ship. Muzzles flashed, turrets turned and tracked, parts of the hull glowed with heat and fire, explosions crackled around them as the Federation marksmen attempted to destroy their ship.

The
Bella Principessa
slipped along the flank of the
Atticus
, dodging through the flak-fire, drives flaring brightly, rolling this way and that, still driving directly for Chione.

***

‘Covering fire!’ Brice ordered.

The mighty guns aboard the
Atticus
thundered in concert as the Imperial ships converged to protect the tiny Cobra-class vessel as it weaved between them. The Federation ships were close now, pounding away with every piece of ordnance at their disposal.

‘Shields failed in zones five through eight, sir! Damage to portside generators and drive one. We can’t bring our main batteries to bear in this configuration!’

‘Maintain position until the Cobra is under cover of the station,’ Brice ordered, his face grim with determination. The Imperial fleet was being forced to hold a defensive line in order to protect the Cobra. It exposed them to the full fury of the Federation fleet, without being able to respond in kind. Already outnumbered, they would quickly be overwhelmed unless …

Another Imperial frigate flashed into oblivion nearby, its flaming hull spinning with the impact of a devastating Federation barrage. Brice watched in fury as it rolled aside, ablaze from stem to stern, turning in a last desperate move. It narrowly missed the
Atticus
, instead burning across space and crashing into the rear of the
Xajorkith
. Molten debris sprayed in all directions.

‘Cobra is past the phalanx, sir! Still running at full throttle.’

Brice grimaced and clenched his fist. ‘Form up, all ships! Concentrate fire on the Federation battlecruiser, rear quarter. Now we turn the tide!’

As one the Imperial ships turned, now free to unleash their own weapons to best effect. Beam weapons converged and struck out. The Federation battleship took the brunt of the incoming fire. Already weakened by the suicidal strike of the frigate, the shields along its flank failed momentarily. Missiles screamed inwards towards the rear of the mighty vessel, a co-ordinated strike on the damaged section.

The starboard drive, already damaged, exploded under the assault, ripping away a sizable chunk of the ship with it.

The
Xajorkith
lurched perceptibly and then slowly pulled away, one of its drives reduced to slag.

***

Tenim staggered as the
Xajorkith
lurched beneath him. From the tremors writhing through the deck he sensed they’d suffered a significant amount of damage. The consternation of the bridge crew confirmed it.

‘Shields failing, sir!’

‘Drive four is offline, power fluctuations …’

‘Disengage and withdraw,’ the captain shouted above the mayhem. ‘Pull back! Signal all ships, disengage!’

‘Captain, we need that ship!’ Tenim demanded.

The captain shook his head ‘Commissioner, the ship is out of range, with the Imperial fleet interposed. We have significant damage, we must withdraw. If we remain in proximity …’

Tenim slammed his palm down against the bridge railing.

‘Damn the girl,’ he fumed. ‘What is it going to take to rid us of her?’

Abruptly the battle was over. The Federation ships pulled back out of range, re-establishing their formation, the frigates and corvettes forming a protective perimeter around the damaged battleship.

‘Damage report?’ the captain demanded.

‘Drive four is gone, sir. We have significant damage astern but can still manoeuvre. Sixty-two per cent of our fleet remains intact and operable.’

‘Tactical.’

The Federation crew studied the displays for long moments, calling up information on the opposing fleet statistics and positions.

‘Imperial fleet came off worse,’ the first officer said, ‘but they are now between us and the moon with the additional firepower of the station.’

The captain nodded.

‘Begin recovery operations for the damaged ships, I don’t want any more hands lost.’

‘We lost,’ Jenu said, softly from beside Tenim. Tenim turned to look at her. Her face was pale and harrowed.

Tenim sighed deeply, but shook his head.

‘Not quite my dear, there is one more throw of the dice.’

Chapter Fourteen