“There were indeed generous portions, were they not? although a trifle under amusing I do believe,” Vargev replied in kind. The two men laughed in unison as they headed toward the forward hold. A bout of nausea caused them both to hold their stomachs.
The forward hold itself was a tightly cramped maze containing everything from spare parts to captured weapons. It was dimly lit and gloomy; the only sources of illumination came from a strip of white lights positioned within a curve where the wall met the low sloping ceiling. Some of the equipment had a fine layer of dust on them; indicating that they hadn’t been used for quite some time.
Vargev managed to locate his pack; and his assault rifle, “ah, my baby I thought I had lost you.” He said, stroking it in jocular admiration. Michael had managed to find his own borrowed Armschlager too. Together they picked up their packs and headed toward the command centre.
For the next few days of the journey the crew busied themselves making basic repairs to parts of the ship that were damaged in the fighting. As well as disposing of the multitude of Krenaran bodies which were slumped all over the ship. Both Vargev and Michael ate from their ration packs; rather than dare risk the food synthesisers again.
Chapter 9
“What’s our E.T. A to the Solarian border?” Michael asked for the umpteenth time.
“One hour,” Vargev sighed. It’s only been twenty minutes since you last asked, he thought. “Hold on a minute,” he said eyeing the sensor readouts. “I think I’ve got something.”
“What is it?” Kerulithar asked as he approached where Vargev was sat.
“It looks like we’ve got six bogeys inbound and closing fast.”
“They’re definitely Krenaran,” Kerulithar pointed out; peering over Vargevs shoulder.
Well no shit Sherlock, take first prize. Vargev thought, however he kept it to himself.
“We need maximum power to the engines, tell the Faccadian we are going to need everything he can give us.” This is going to be damn tight, Michael thought.
Kerulithar spoke into a console he was sat at. Before saying, “the Faccadian says, he only just managed to fix the damage that happened the last time you tried that.”
“Well, tell him he’ll just have to fix it again won’t he. Either that or we won’t have a ship left to save.”
Kerulithar spoke into his console again, “he says, point taken.”
“Damn straight,” Vargev piped up.
“We have to hold them off until we are over the border,” Michael pointed out. Whether there is much of a ship to cross the border with is another matter entirely, he thought.
The Liberty rapidly increased its speed through plasma drive, a flotilla of six Krenaran stealth ships in hot pursuit.
“Where the hell did they come from anyway?” Michael asked.
“No idea, they must have been shadowing us, that single surviving Krenaran ship must have brought his buddies,” Vargev suggested.
“I’ll try and scan for any nearby Solarian ships; they regularly patrol this area of space,” Kerulithar said as he keyed in the controls for the external sensors; sharing the data with Vargevs’ console, and began scanning.
“They’ll be in weapons range in one minute; they’re still god-damn closing!” Vargev shouted.
“I’m trying my fucking best!” Michael retorted.
“You’re best is going to get us all fucking killed!” Vargev shouted angrily back.
“Do you want to pilot this thing is that it? because you aren’t qualified, so sit down you big Russian fuck.” Michael shouted back.
“I’m picking up a patrol of three Solarian vessels,” Kerulithar announced.
The other two men were far too busy shouting and swearing at each other to hear him. Instead he silently keyed in the controls for long range communications.
“Solarian vessels, this is ambassador Kerulithar of the Solarian confederacy, we are being pursued by six enemy Krenaran vessels and require urgent assistance.”
The other two men stopped their bickering and suddenly turned to Kerulithar, “What did you just do?” they both asked in unison.
“I took the liberty of scanning for a patrol of Solarian ships and contacted them asking for assistance,” Kerulithar stated calmly.
“Well at least one of us is trying to get us out of this shit hole,” Vargev said.
The command centre speakers suddenly blazed into life, “unknown Krenaran vessel, you will surrender and prepare to be boarded. Any hostile action will be met with all due force.”
“They don’t believe us; they must think we are part of the same fleet,” Kerulithar said exasperatedly.
He hurriedly keyed in the controls again, “Solarian vessels, I am commanding a captured Krenaran vessel, we are headed for Solarian space, my personal identification is 904157 dash 3412 Keru 118. Please respond, repeat we are in need of urgent assistance.”
Just as Kerulithar had stopped speaking; twin bright green flashes of energy shot past the ship, coating the upper dorsal section of the Liberty in a bright green glow, and lighting up the command centre in a vivid emerald hue.
“They’re firing!” Vargev shouted, stating the obvious.
Michael wrestled against the controls on the pilot’s chair, sending the ship into a rapid barrel roll in the hopes of evading the worst of the Krenarans’ attacks.
Multiple particle cannon shots flashed past the ship as the Krenaran attackers tried to get a bead on the Liberty.
“Bring us out of plasma drive,” Michael said rather dejectedly.
“That will kill us for sure!” Vargev retorted.
“I can’t evade all six of them.”
Kerulithar reluctantly did so. The ship dropped back into normal space again closely followed by the Krenaran fleet rapidly in pursuit.
Michael bravely wrenched against the controls; sweating profusely, his arms ached heavily, and his teeth bit into his bottom lip, drawing a small amount of blood. Such was the level of determination to survive; to get his ship to safety.
However the weight of fire was simply too great, multiple particle cannon shots criss-crossed the area of space the Liberty flew through, and several torpedoes flashed across the stern, port and starboard side of the ship.
Michael Alexander, and Nikolai Vargev; the two survivors, the two people who had made it all this way against all the odds silently prayed for a miracle.
Several more particle cannon shots slammed into the rear of the Liberty, rocking the ship from stem to stern; throwing Vargev completely out of his seat. Sparks exploded out from smashed consoles, support beams crashed down. The smell of sizzled circuitry assaulted the nose, and the thick smoke billowing from the smashed consoles and several small fires caused everyone to choke.
“Rear hull plating is down!” Kerulithar cried out over the din of explosions and battle.
Yet more shots flashed past the damaged Liberty.
“Not now. Not when we’ve come this close!” Michael shouted in sheer frustration.
Two torpedoes roared their way toward the Liberty. Slamming into the hull and instantly detonating, blasting apart the main sub-light drive with a huge explosion; causing carnage onboard as fire swept through the main engine room. Emergency bulkheads dropped into place to contain the fires.
Bodies were burnt beyond all recognition, charred corpses lay everywhere as flames engulfed large areas of decks four, five and six. Smashed support girders and bulkheads littered the area.
Michael, Vargev, and Kerulithar were flung to the floor by the sheer force of the huge explosion; Michael was thrown clear of his seat, and lay motionless on the deck.
Vargev slowly managed to get back to his feet, a deep ragged gash bleeding profusely down the right side of his face. Kerulithar slowly stood also, his blue-ish hued skin, had turned black in places from burns and debris that had melted into his skin, his dark blue blood seeping from several cuts.