Siegor was shocked. He had never seen a Juirean ship explode. From behind him, he heard the soft murmurs around the bridge as others reacted to the scene. “Maintain your posts!” he shouted. “Deploy the platforms on opposite sides of the corridor. Now! ”
On the main screen, Siegor watched as dozens of blue and red circles began to intermingle. The blue circles, signifying the Klin, were bouncing about and in all directions, while his own forces tried to maintain a line across the corridor. He watched as massive bolts flared out from the launching platforms. A few of the intense bolts struck the Klin ships, and he felt immense relief as some of the blue circles disappeared from his screen.
And now the smaller targets from the surface began to engage. A tech had designated them with green circles, and they, too, did not seem to follow any prescribed course or obvious line of attack.
Calls soon began to come in from various parts of the fleet with reports of damage, while runners approached Siegor with casualty estimates. Of his forty-nine ships, five had been completely destroyed and nine were damaged to such a degree that they had been rendered useless in the battle. Of the twenty-eight Klin ships and twenty-three other smaller vessels, six of those had been destroyed or left the battle scene. The firepower was too quickly approaching parity.
On the screen, eight Juirean ships were being harassed by three of the Klin ships, along with seven of the smaller green contacts, fighting it out over the airless and desolate surface of the largest moon of Dimloe. The Juireans had managed to form a line and were concentrating fire on the lead Klin ship. Three of the green targets disappeared from Siegor’s screen, and a few of the non-Juireans on the bridge actually let out muted cheers. Then four of their own ships vanished from the screen.
Siegor fell back into his command chair to watch the battle unfold. He had already lost nearly a third of his force, and although there appeared to be some areas where the Juireans were at least holding their own, there were others where his red circles were falling back, growing ever closer to his own position at the head of the corridor. Soon he would have to start making contingency plans.
The latest runner approached and handed him a screen-chip. The attackers were down to thirty-three ships, including the smaller contacts, but it appeared as though most of the enemy losses were to the smaller contacts. His force was down to twenty-three ships. He’d lost nearly half of his command in only a few minutes!
Knowing that he could never return to face Overlord Yan’wal after such a staggering defeat, Siegor prepared to have his own ship enter the fray.
But then something began to happen on the screen before him…
Riyad sat strapped into the pilot seat of his ship, gripping the control stick tight in his right hand. He twisted it forward and to the right, sending his ship in a tight spiral straight for the Juirean battle cruiser. He lined up the sites on the targeting computer in front of him, and pressed the button on the stick.
He blinked as an intense bolt of electricity shot out from his ship and coursed its way toward the target. The bolt struck the Juirean ship just below the bridge and burned through the remaining diffusion screen on the hull. It wasn’t a kill shot, but the next one should do the trick.
As he swept around to make what he hoped would be the last shot on the Juirean cruiser, he was beginning to think that joining the battle may not have been such a good idea after all. Even if the Klin did succeed in driving off the Juireans, they would be back, and in more strength than before. But his own forces would never recover.
Riyad’s whole world had changed over the past hour. He had easily lost over half his ships, ships that would be virtually impossible to replace. And the crews! It would take him years to bring together enough of the unique beings that made up a gang of pirates; you couldn’t just pick them up on any planet. Pirates were a rare breed, and now their numbers had been decimated. It would be a long time — if ever — before they would be the feared Fringe Pirates again.
And even though it looked as if the Klin might prevail in this battle, this was just the beginning of the war. The Klin had proven that they could take on a superior Juirean force. The Juireans would learn from this engagement…
Just then, Riyad saw four of the Klin ships disappear from his screen. And as he lined up for the final shot on the stricken Juirean ship in his sites, the Juirean cruiser itself let loose with a bolt of its own aimed at a Klin ship on his wing. But instead of turning to face the oncoming bolt, the Klin ship actually flipped up, exposing its vulnerable underbelly. The bolt impacted the hull and penetrated straight through, as if the diffusion screen had been deactivated! The ship exploded on his right.
Distracted by the explosion, Riyad overshot his target. He banked left and headed toward the smaller second moon of Dimloe. Something was happening here that he didn’t understand. He needed time evaluate. The Klin, and his own forces — what was left of them — had the Juireans on the ropes. But now they appeared to be intentionally throwing the fight!
David Sidwell’s jaw dropped as he witnessed the first of his fleet turn belly-up and accept the bolt from the Juirean battle platform. His mood then turned to panic as he saw four more of his surviving ships suddenly flare bright on the tact screen and disappear.
Opening a communication channel to the surviving members of his fleet, David barely got out the first syllable before he felt the burning sting of the beam from a miniature laser weapon enter his back just below his neck. He slumped in his chair, and felt the life begin to drain from his body. Then a figure moved into his line of sight. It was Kyle Ross, looking as calm and emotionless as ever — and holding a laser weapon.
David’s eyes just looked at him, as his mouth tried to form the word “Why?” But no sound came out.
“You have served our race well, Mr. Sidwell. Now it is our turn to take over.” Ross watched as the gray glaze of death filled the eyes of David Sidwell, before reaching over to the comm console and opening a channel to the Juirean fleet.
Fleet Commander Siegor had lifted out of his seat and moved closer to the battle screen. He, too, had seen the tide of the battle turn, but he only saw it in relation to the blue, red and green circles on his screen. His forces now outnumbered the Klin easily two to one. He could count nine, then eight, then seven of the remaining Klin ships. And many of the smaller green ones had already bolted out of the area.
Just then his communication officer called out to him. “Commander, we have a transmission coming in from the Klin!”
“Aloud!” Siegor commanded.
“To the Juirean commander. We are offering ourselves for surrender. We have one remaining battleship. It is my flagship. Please do not fire upon it.”
“Cease action!” he called out.
Siegor had his victory. Now he would have his prisoners.
Riyad picked up the same communication just a last stray bolt from a Juirean cruiser struck the aft section of his ship. His generators went offline, and he felt the sickening surge of weightlessness overtake him and the remaining five crewmembers on the bridge. Reluctantly, Riyad pressed the survival beacon on his command console. All he could do now was wait to see if the Juireans would honor an offer of surrender in the case of his ship, too.
Chapter Twelve
The Juireans did honor Riyad’s surrender code, and seven hours after the conclusion of the battle, an armed shuttle secured itself to his airlock and a squad of heavily armed beings came aboard.
There were four Juireans and two other beings Riyad did not recognize. Once they were satisfied that Riyad and his five crewmembers were unarmed, they were all shackled and transported to the Juirean command ship.
A green-maned Juirean Guard stood stoically in the loading hanger, holding a datapad and scanning each prisoner as they went by with another hand-held device. Riyad’s crew exited first. They were scanned and then lead off to a section of the hanger some fifty meters away. The Guard then scanned Riyad, barely looking at him as he did so. Suddenly he looked up from his pad and eyed Riyad up and down. And then after tapping something into the pad, he called for several of the other guards to remove him from the hanger and take him to the holding cell — with the others.
