Lawrence White - Knights of the Chosen

Then they withdrew and waited. Two days later, George informed Stven that a large number of Rebel ships were entering the system, all grouped together. Stven contacted Korban on the tight beam.

“We see them,” Korban replied. “I’ve decided to move on the gleasons while there’s time.”

“What if they have Chessori aboard those traders?”

“Waverly left a few guys behind. They’re spread pretty thin, but it’s the best we can do.”

Stven watched as the orbits of three frigates from the military umbrella neared the traders. The timing of each was perfect, with no outward sign that anything was out of the ordinary. Suddenly, all three frigates moved on their targets. Unknown to Stven, who was too far away to sense the scree, a weak scree started up, and the traders left orbit at high speed toward the planet.

The frigates closed and opened fire from a distance, but for some reason they had difficulty staying on their targets. Impressive return fire came from the traders as they deftly maneuvered around the frigates and through the blockade.

“Who’s flying those frigates?” Stven wondered, his anger barely under control.

“Korban mentioned Terrans. Maybe it’s them,” M’Sada answered.

“We’re better than that,” O’Brien objected.

“You are, but are all your guys?”

“Yes.” Then he paused. “Not if they’re ground troops. They must be Waverly’s guys.”

“They are not up against simple traders, Tom. Struthers must have hired smugglers, and I’ll bet there are Chessori aboard.”

Stven objected. “No smuggler would willingly take on a cargo of gleasons, and they’d know they wouldn’t stand a chance against this number of Empire ships. Chessori must be driving those ships.”

He called Korban. “They must be using the scree. ”

“They are, but it’s weak. Waverly’s guys are not the best pilots. It looks like the traders have gotten past them. Our port defenses are prepared for them, and the frigates will be right behind them as they approach the planet. They have to stop to unload, and we’ll be ready.”

Stven turned to Tarn. “It will take them a couple of hours to reach the surface. If they do, it will be bad, very bad.”

“I know, but we can’t risk further damage to Krys.”

“It’s a weak scree. ”

Tarn considered. He didn’t like any of the options, except to leave the system, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Such was not the duty they’d accepted as Empire officers.

“Okay. The gloves are off. Use all of our capabilities, and go for it, Stven, but keep your distance as best you can.”

“Aye, Sire.”

Tom O’Brien took the helm, and Resolve fast-shipped to the first trader in minutes. Stven opened a line to the trader before they felt any affects from the scree. “Come about and surrender,” he demanded. “You will not receive a second warning.”

The trader did not respond. Stven left the net, and O’Brien brought Resolve in to attack. Washburn ordered his gunners to open fire at maximum range. Though the trader was jinking all over the sky, Resolve did not have to do the same since her weapons were far more powerful. Because they had a steady firing platform, normally difficult shots at this extreme range were well aimed, and the trader succumbed fairly quickly.

Just before the ship blew up, a dozen life boats launched from cargo bays. The scree suddenly stopped as the ship disintegrated, and O’Brien moved in on the lifeboats. It would take a while to chase them down, and the other two traders were nearing the planet.

Stven had been forced from the net, but the scree had been weak, and he recovered quickly. “Leave the lifeboats, Tom. Korban will track them and deal with them. We have to go after the other traders.”

Tom fast-shipped to the next trader, and this time he had Washburn hold his fire until they were closer. He didn’t want to give them time to launch the lifeboats, and he didn’t. The trader lasted only moments under the onslaught of Resolve’s guns, and he set out after the last trader. It was brushing the atmosphere as he approached, and this one didn’t wait to be attacked. Dozens of life boats spewed from cargo holds as Washburn’s first shots struck. The ship didn’t last long, but there were a lot of lifeboats to track down.

Stven contacted Korban. “Do you see the lifeboats?”

“We do. We’re tracking, and I’m assigning fighters to each. You might want to get out of their way.”

Tom angled Resolve away from the planet. Moments later, Tarn joined them on the net.

“Krys sees the lifeboats, and she sees something else. She’s ordered us to land at sector headquarters.”

Stven stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“She’s very serious. Do it, Stven.”

Stven issued orders to M’Sada, with the admonition to alert the port defenses to not shoot them down, then he left the net. Washburn was strapping a vest to Krys’ body, and he tossed another to Tarn.

“What’s going on?” Stven demanded.

“Not all the lifeboats will be destroyed, Stven,” Krys answered. “Korban himself is their target, and they’re going to reach him. We’re going to protect him.”

“You’re blind. You can’t even protect yourself.”

“Trust me, Stven. You must. I beg you.” She issued orders to Washburn and Borg. “Leave two Terran gunners on Resolve. Bring all the rest, including the cats, and bring Gordi’i and Kali’i. The gleasons will reach Korban’s outer office. As soon as we’re off, Resolve is to depart.”

Borg growled. “I refuse to let you go, My Lady.”

She turned blind eyes toward the sound of his voice. “I can see them, Borg. I see each of them in my mind. I will be your eyes.”

“I would rather the sector fell.”

“The sector will not fall, Borg. Those are my orders.”

The moment Resolve touched down, Washburn and Jacobs lifted her and hustled her toward the sector headquarters building. Tarn and Stven joined the group of six Great Cats, six Terran Protectors, and the two four-armed gunners. The port defensive guns barked as they targeted incoming life boats, but not all the lifeboats came in on high trajectories. Some came in below the minimum firing angle of the great guns, and several touched down near the sector headquarters building as they hurried to the entrance.

Imperial Marines were ready, and they engulfed each lifeboat in a continuous barrage of fire. The gleasons that made their way through it were all injured and easy to spot.

A Raider lieutenant met them at the entrance with a squad behind him. “I was told to expect you. Who are you?”

“Major Washburn, Delta Force,” Washburn answered without slowing. “Take us to Korban’s office.”

They burst into Korban’s outer office, a large open area midway along an outer wall of the top floor. Washburn’s voice thundered through the room. “Everyone down! Now!”

He turned to Krys. “What now, Krys?”

“Take me to the center of the room,” she demanded. “Give me a weapon. Follow where I aim. I cannot see you, so stay behind me, but back me up.”

Borg spoke. “Where will they enter, My Lady?”

“Everywhere. The doors and the windows.”

“How many?”

“I think… eight.”

Borg growled, and his hackles rose. He moved Krys to the center of the room, then spread his men in lines to each side of her, all facing outward. Then they waited.

“Where’s Admiral Korban?” Borg demanded.

A senior officer rose and indicated heavy doors in the wall behind Krys. “He’s in the operations center, sir.”

“Call him and tell him to stay in there with the doors locked. They should be prepared to defend themselves if we fail here. Are they armed?”