Prime Obsession(7)

She’d know soon enough.

Maneuvering her small transport for the final approach, she issued orders over her ear-com unit. “Prepare to board the Prime ship. Switch now to alternating com-code ZZY.”

She wasn’t taking any chances the pirates might be able to monitor her teams’

communications. The codes would change every half-standard hour.

Each of the five small transports she led into the suspiciously wide-open docking bay of the Galanti checked in. All communications were now self-contained among their team. The rest of Gold Squadron and the approaching ships of Blue Squadron were not to communicate with her team until she gave an “all clear”—after the self-destruct mechanism was shut down.

“Okay, soldiers. Our first job is to secure that docking bay. No one else goes in and no pirates get off.”

“That’s clear, Captain,” Commander A’tem said. She’d brought her chief engineer along in case the Prime needed assistance in stopping the self-destruct. Plus, the Volusians were noted for their fierceness in hand-to-hand battle. “How do you want to go about contacting the Prime once we are on board?”

“We’ll seek out the one defensible position on the ship—which in all Prime military ships is the engine room.”

“What if there are friendlies between us and the pirates? How will we tell the good guys from the bad?” Nowicki’s calm tones came over the headset.



Mel had worried about that also, then she realized that the Prime planned for that under Code Argenta. The ancient military plan was a drastic, harsh—and final—solution.

Any Prime crew member who had not made it within the designated defense perimeter would be dead.

“We won’t know until we get there, but I suspect that the only live bodies we’ll find on that ship other than the Prime in the secure location will be pirates.” And possibly the traitors that had allowed the pirates in. There had to have been traitors in the Prime crew. There was no other way to breach a Prime starship. The Prime weren’t careless with security.

Mel added, “Prime history has shown that they will do whatever is necessary to eliminate the enemy.”

“The Prime would’ve shut off the air to all decks once they had secured their defensive perimeter,” Nowicki concluded in a flat, disapproving tone.

“That’s my guess,” Mel said. But it wasn’t a guess. She knew that is what the Prime captain had done. She’d read of such situations in several Prime military histories in her father’s private collection.

“But the pirates might have had breathing units,” J’ar said.

“The pirates might not have suspected the Prime would cut off the environment as long as some of their crew might be outside the safety of the secured location,” Mel said.

“They would’ve only realized as their peers started to drop dead.” Only the hardiest, some of the pseudo-reptilian species or other humanoid hybrids that could go without air for a short period of time, would’ve survived to don breathing units.

“Man, what are we letting ourselves in for allying with the Prime?” one of her soldiers muttered. His shock came clearly over the com.

“The Galactic Alliance Council has valid reasons.”

“Like what?” the same soldier asked.

“The Antareans,” she said.

Those two words would evoke recent memories from the jump station for her team.

Mel took a breath, blocking out the too-vivid images from the jump station and more distant ones that still haunted her from childhood.

“The Prime have protected themselves and the rest of the Milky Way for eons from the Antareans. The Antareans kill, rape and mutilate with impunity. They do not surrender. They do not give up.” Mel stopped and swallowed the lump forming in her throat, struggling to regain the control she was in danger of losing. “You have to beat them or die trying. Don’t ever forget that. The Prime haven’t, and they are still here to fight.”

“Listen to the Captain,” Nowicki said. “She’s seen the results of Antarean land raids before in the Prater region.”

 Damn, she forgot Nowicki knew that story—one she’d only shared after one too many scotches one interminably long, sleepless night.

“What I’m trying to say is don’t prejudge the Prime too harshly,” she said. “They are now a part of the Alliance. Their methods, although draconian by our measures, work.

Just be thankful we only have to fight pirates this go-round.”

“I’m betting no other pirates will ever attack a Prime ship again—after this lesson,” joked A’tem.



Laughter at the Volusian’s conclusion came across the com. She sighed with relief.

Her troops were wholly on board. They’d do their job and do it well for the pride of the Alliance and Gold Squadron.

“Let’s go in. Shields on full. Take out anything moving in that docking bay.” A roaring war whoop from A’tem, J’ar and the other Volusians on the boarding team echoed across the ear-coms.





* * * *





Prime Star Ship Galanti

Mel stood on her second blood-covered deck within the last fifty-plus standard hours. The jump station hadn’t been quite this bad, because they’d reached it soon after the initial SOS call. Here there was barely a surface that did not have blood, body parts, or bodies covering it. The Prime soldiers had put on a valiant effort, but they’d been surprised and most likely outnumbered.

Swallowing back the bile threatening to come up her throat, vomiting was not advisable when wearing a breathing unit, she stepped around one of the dead Prime crew, his weapon still clutched in his hand. She bent over and gently closed his eyes, murmuring a benediction for his warrior’s soul.

As she made her way through the large bay toward the perimeter and the control consoles, Mel idly wondered who the traitor or traitors had been that had shut down the ship’s security against intruders and allowed the raiders to board. She guessed she’d find out later, once she made contact with the remaining Prime.

“Status, Nowicki?”

She moved to stand near her second-in-command as he re-entered the docking bay with his team. The control console monitors were all dark. All power to this level was cut off, and as suspected, environmental was dead. Emergency lighting provided an eerie glow in the cavernous bay.

“We checked the two contiguous levels, using the maintenance tunnels since the lifts are inoperable. All the bad guys we encountered are either dead or secured.” He nodded toward the opposite wall to where the prisoners were being lined up by A’tem’s team.

The pirates wore leg and arm manacles. “All the Prime found are dead. No torture. Looks like they died fighting after the initial invasion.”

“Jesus,” she muttered. “Why just the two levels?”

“One of the prisoners advised us that we were outnumbered, Captain.” Nowicki angled his head. “As it was, we only subdued this bunch because of surprise. I decided not to risk the boarding party until we could assess status more completely.” Mel’s narrowed gaze traveled the line of prisoners. A few of the pirates were Erians, a reptilian species that gloried in mutilating prisoners, very much like the Antareans. In fact, the Erians were rumored to be distant cousins of the Antarean race, separated by several centuries.

“I would’ve done the same.”

Nowicki nodded his acknowledgment.

“Any Prime women among the dead?” she asked, dreading the answer. The Prime diplomatic legation might have brought their wives, although she doubted it. The Prime hid their women away and protected them to the point of being excessive. The crew would always be one hundred percent male.

“No women.”

Unconsciously, the tension that had stiffened her posture dissipated.

Nowicki shot her a look of understanding.

Her nightmares dated back to the Prater region and an Antarean raid. She’d survived—others hadn’t. Since that time, she couldn’t handle the evidence or even the thought of rape and mutilation. Her traumatic childhood experience was the reason she’d joined the military, to fight the dregs of the universe that felt the need to prey upon the helpless and unaware.

Nowicki had made sure she hadn’t seen the bodies of the women raped and then killed by the Antareans back at the jump station. As fast as they’d responded, the lizard-bastards managed to mutilate two women. Guilt burned in her gut that they’d not been quick enough to save the women the horror.

Killing the two Antareans in the control room had helped somewhat.

So, no women on board the Galanti was a good thing as far as she was concerned.

Space pirates, especially Erians, were almost as bad as Antareans in their treatment of captured women.

“Are we secure for now?”

“As far as we can be. The two levels we took had very few pirates.” Nowicki frowned. “I’m betting that the main thrust of the boarding party is on the level leading to the engine room and on the command deck.”

“No bet there. It’s certain,” Mel said.

Ensign J’ar approached them. “One of the prisoners says he knows you, Captain. The guy’s from Obam II. Has something to tell you. Won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“Bring him.”