"Please, give me a moment to begin making arrangements," Oz said as he cut the channel with a tap on his comm unit.
The Admiral's holographic image disappeared.
"Ronin," Oz addressed.
"Here and waiting. How is diplomacy going?"
"If it looks like any of those turrets are about to take a shot at the Clever Dream, then take them out. Cover them while they pick up our people."
"That well, huh? I'm on it."
"Flight Operations, launch the Clever Dream. Tell the commanding officer to deliver this message to Captain Valance; 'We're out of time.'"
"Yes sir. They're ready and will be off the deck in twenty seconds," Replied Chief Angelo Vercelli from where he stood at the central podium below.
Oz turned his attention to the tertiary main holographic display on the bridge. It was the control Ship Ellis exterior scan. The vessel was six and a half kilometres long with four main columns that extended upward from a large misshapen base. At a glance he could tell it was built to be a massive, combat ready mobile space station in its own right. The Triton seemed huge, but compared to the Ellis she was completely outclassed.
What was worse were the five battle cruisers that accompanied her. Their sleek hulls curved around short central structures that contained at least one fighter bay and what appeared to be a considerable arsenal. The thrusters set above the main protective hull segments were disproportionately large, suggesting that the ships were made as much for interception as they were for combat at various ranges. The Triton could take on two of the roughly four hundred meter long ships, but Oz knew five were just too many. His thoughts shifted to the botanical gallery and the families who lived there. The orphans of Pandem came to mind and he shook it off.
He caught Ashley's dark brown eyes looking at him. She was picking up on his anxiety. Oz flashed a quick grin and nodded to himself. "Time to leave," he muttered as he took the central command chair. "I'm sure Ayan and Jake have things under control on their end."
Chapter 17
Ayan was just hitching back into her combat engineer's tool backpack when the main doors leading further into the station creaked and groaned. The raiders had failed to cut through the thick armoured doors, but they'd managed to leave behind a great deal of damage.
"Someone's trying to come through from the other side," one of the squad members with them commented.
"Your grasp of the obvious is astounding," Alaka replied as he started to charge his beam cannon. "Take cover."
Ayan and the squad scrambled to get behind the heavier crates, taking cover in pairs. She finished securing the last clip of her backpack and took her rifle from Victor. "Thank you."
"Sticking with white?" he asked, gesturing at the colour of her armour.
She looked at the mixed coloured crates and the pocked metal floor. There were whole swathes where the floor's coating had been blasted away, leaving the metal bare. "It's better than black for camouflage right now. Besides, it was always my favourite colour."
"I thought white was a non-colour."
"Nope, white is a colour, black isn't a colour."
"I thought black was the presence of all colours."
"No, you're thinking of painting. If you combine all your paints except for white you sometimes end up with black. In the real world white is the brightest colour, black is the absence of light."
"Well, that changes everything," Victor smirked.
"Now you're having a laugh at my expense."
"Just putting your education to work."
The deck shuddered as the doors spread open a crack. With an ear splitting scrape and grind the motors managed to draw the meter thick, dense metal doors apart. They were three meters tall, made for transporting major components deeper into the station.
"Ayan? Is Ayan from the Triton here?" asked a panicky looking bald woman at the front of fifteen mismatched station staff members. They looked around the cargo area warily, some with their hands raised, others in awe at the damage the area had sustained.
Ayan drew back the faceplate of her armour, leaving the hood up and stepped into the open. "I'm here."
"I'm Larissa, we spoke on the comm. We're seeking asylum on the Triton. You have to hurry, alarms will be going off now that this door is open and Amanda will know someone's trying to escape."
"You're prisoners?"
"We're workers, but after what's happened they'll never let us leave."
"Yeah, we're prisoners! Can we go now?" added Bradley. "That's what you are if you get paid but never get to leave," he spat at Larissa so harshly she flinched. "Bloody wazzock."
"We were just leaving," Ayan smiled. It had been a long time since she'd met anyone with such a thick Britannia accent. It was good to hear even though the speaker's dialect was rough. "All right, cover these people. We return to the Cold Reaver at a run," Ayan ordered Alaka.
Ayan scanned the fifteen newcomers and was surprised to find them unarmed. A few of them had medical kits and bundles of personal items very hastily packed together but other than that they had nothing. They were ready to run, however, and kept up with the group of militia handily.
"I hate to ask, but who's your sponsor? I've never seen the kind of armour you're wearing," Bradly asked as he fell into step beside her. He clutched a large medical kit to his chest with both arms.
" Triton is an independent ship. We manufacture our own equipment."
"Are you originally from Earth? We noticed it was built in the Sol system."
"No, I can't go into the details just now, but we're not from Earth."
"See? Like I was saying. Pirates," Larissa said to Bradley, who gave her a wide eyed stare. She turned to Ayan with a thin smile; "Not that I look down on it, mind you. Pirates are fine if they're just stopping for supplies or to spend time at the pub."
"Right now we're just looking for a place to make repairs so we can move on and find an ally. Privateering is more our calling."
"Against anyone in particular?"
"The Order of Eden," Ayan answered without an instant's hesitation. "A number of us were on Pandem when they took it."
"What happened to Pandem?" asked one of the newcomers behind her.
Ayan's heart began to sink, but she steeled herself against the terrible memories of what happened to the place. "I'm sorry. The virus that made your automated systems go mad here struck there, then the Order of Eden and Regent Galactic stepped in to finish the job."
"Oh my God, I knew people on Pandem, took my last vacation there. I've never seen a place like it," he said sadly. "What is it like now?"
"It's better that you remember it as it was."
"Oh. Any chance anyone from Verona survived? That's where I stayed."
Alaka dropped back to run along side the fellow, his long, loping steps and great size was intimidating even when he withdrew the plates covering his head to reveal a furred, pointed nose and mournful dark eyes. "I'm sorry. The resort islands were struck first. Few people survived Pandem, my family and I were fortunate."
"So you fight with the Triton against the people who destroyed your home."