40 Thousand Reasons

Chapter 6: Pirates

Again, we hold a strategy meeting about our next campaign, the Ileviar pirate empire.

I power up the cogitator screen and put up the findings of my father, notes and rumors obtained during his own travel and conquests.

My XO...one of the oldest clan members and an uncle of mine, with the greatest experience in void warfare takes over the meeting with practiced words and gestures.

He doesn't look over a thousand years old, but he served on the same bridge with my grandfather in the past. I found him while training with the grenadier regiment, relegated to weapons instructor by my father due to some disagreement.

Decima might have pointed him out as well.

"If I may, Lord Captain." Clan Elder Wentian says politely. I nod in acceptance and let him take over the holographic screen.

"Please, Major Wentian." I agree in a mild voice. I gave him the rank for a reason after all. Experience matters with warfare.

"First thing, reconnaissance. We can insert the Requiem at the edge of this mining system, and send out a fighter squadron coasting with unpowered engines to retrieve operational data. Number of ships, trajectories, target's mass and everything else we need to plan our assault. We can't rely on old maps and astronomical observations." he proposes in a calm voice.

"They will detect the Warp fluctuations anyway. Better to exit in force, and blast whoever we catch." I argue with a glance at my enginseer advisor.

Signus nods hesitantly, and wipes his cyborg eye with a cloth. Possibly terrified of being the center of attention. He'll get used to it.

He's not quite a tech priest, and his expertise is sort of limited to Warp systems, but he does know them inside and out.

"The frigate will produce a wide area radiation wake as it exits the Warp, as well as a hugely visible flash. Even at light speed, everyone in the system will know they have visitors, in a few hours." the enginseer explains in a weak tone.

My uncle nods and tugs on his grey beard. "Knowledge of something arriving is not evidence of an enemy. It could be some ore miner ship or a cargo vessel. Perhaps...yes. We can send a transport ship as well, to serve as bait and draw out the pirates."

I power up my implant and review the system map. "If we insert behind this gas giant, they will not see us at all. They will see a transport ship, leaking atmosphere as if damaged. We can insert our fighters and let them scan the system while we follow the bait with cold engines."

Once the decision is made, I speak with every staff officer for more ideas and solutions but the unknown limits our options. Can't plan for what we don't know, after all.

Decima advises me to keep two fighter squadrons for defense, should anything surprise us while we are flying blind and unpowered. It makes good sense so I approve.

Then she drags me to the bedroom and presents to me two soldier girls from the void marine battalion, vetted and eager to provide babies for the clan.

Oh well, it is duty after all. Might as well make it pleasant and fun. We all work hard on this for half the night, and then I crash into sleep.

The two concubines are assigned as permanent guards for my apartment and move in, as there would be no point to lose them in a firefight or boarding action. They have a higher calling now.

Decima goes exploring a few more companies and talks to a few more women soldiers, looking for more concubines, but she fails to find someone she likes.

In the end, she picks another cousin of ours as a second wife. Henna Octa looks amazing with brown skin and hair, green eyes and a loving smile. And has bountiful breasts and hips, something rarely seen aboard void ships. Most women crew are solid packs of muscles and training, unlike the fat and lazy groundpounders.

Octa used to work in the hydroponics, and likely had more fresh food available to maintain her nice looks. Not that I'm upset by that. Not at all.

Some three weeks later, I'm almost certain to have a couple more kids on the way, and Magos Gyron is rather displeased with my priorities, arguing for the Quest for Knowledge and less flesh pleasures.

"I won't say sorry, my mentor. Blank officers won't appear out of nothing. Did you have any success with the Atomantic reactor?" I wonder in turn.

He shakes his head and points at the simulation. Still not enough depth with our scans, so no progress. "This reactor is very compact. And the Tigris tech-priests are too secretive on their prized Fellblades."

"Isn't that how all Forge worlds do things?" I ask rhetorically.

A metallic tentacle pokes my forehead. "You are changing things, Captain. Spreading new patterns and more efficient machines. I can barely wait to see what else you might discover."

I sit down next to him, in the only chair. The Magos never sits down, although with his metal frame he probably doesn't need to rest anyway.

"Let's start with the missile launchers then. We have plenty of them to test and see what can be simplified."

Waiting for the trap to work and draw out the pirates takes another week, and I do find a way to increase the range of our missiles by 10 percent, with some clever software upgrades, or rather by uncluttering some buggy programming.

With simpler commands to follow, the logic-engine can maintain target lock for a bit longer.

Gyron goes to update our missiles launchers with the new patch, and I visit my wives and concubines for a few hours.

Then alerts blare out and the fun times are over.

The pirates arrive with 2 Iconoclast-class_Destroyer and an ore hauler transformed into a bastardized weapon platform, with a hundred guns of various types. Possibly collected from whatever victims they have killed during their predations.

Then we wait for them to start matching speed and board the transport vessel, before we spring the trap and accelerate, launching space superiority fighters and battering their void shields for boarding actions.

The void marines and 2 battalions of grenadiers, all armored in carapace suits and void resistant helmets attack the pirate ships, while from inside the transport ship, hidden combat servitors spring out and massacre their own invaders.

A day later, we have a captured destroyer, a rather damaged ore hauler and a lost grenadier battalion as the second destroyer managed to blow up somehow.

Sadly, we also lose 5 clan members to this victory, although even one destroyer is worth a billion thrones, should anyone sell ships for cash.

The battalion needs to be rebuilt, officers and new recruits trained and armored.

We hold another meeting to discuss what went wrong and right, with my brother seeming upset he wasn't given leave for a boarding action.

"Captain Veryon, if you were leading the 4th grenadier battalion in the assault, you would be dead now. And I would lack a competent frigate captain." I tell him in a stern voice.

Major Wentian nods and agrees with me. "I think we should use more combat servitors for boarding. They are smaller, able to enter service vents and have quicker reflexes. Plus...it won't hurt us that much when they die."

"Fine. Use servitors if you are afraid to die!" my brother exclaims upset.

I sigh and drink some wine with regret. Damn glory hound.

"You do have a point, brother. Perhaps someone with experience and training could have stopped their reactor going critical. We will add tech-priests to the next boarding actions. But no officers, unless they wear power armor." I conclude and wave off the holographic display.

Hundreds of helmet and servitor mounted cameras and vox transmissions gave us sufficient knowledge what really happened.

Either a grenadier fired on something critical, or some pirate did. Either way, the ship went up in flames with our troops on board.

"If we had teleporters..." Decima says in a peaceful voice.

Everyone sighs at that. Fat chance we will find a working teleporter anywhere. Those relics were mostly the domain of Space Marines and the Inquisition.

"So, we conquer the system and establish a mining base. Does anyone here wants to be the system Governor?" I ask out loud.

Nobody raises a hand or tentacle, so I'll have to promote a grenadier officer. Most likely the 3rd battalion leader, who was wounded during the capture of the Iconoclast destroyer.

With Major Richard Fynman thus promoted to Governor, we start the tedious task of rooting out the rest of the pirates and assault the mining outposts.

We liberate a few thousand slaves, including a few Navigators and astropaths as well as a fallen Noble who used to freelance around in his Knight suit.

His Knight is gone but the guy is skilled and a fierce warrior. His nickname was Whitelance, after he discarded his House. A few centuries ago. It will take some time to get used to the long lifespans of the rich or nobles.

"Lord Whitelance, I do have good relations with a few Forge Worlds. Once you prove them your genetic ability to pilot a Knight, we will provide a new suit for you." I offer politely beside his hospice bed. The pilot nods and falls asleep.

The pirates weren't kind to him, unlike the reverent care that the Navigators received.

In fact, the Iconoclast Navigator will keep his post, having gone from a planetary force vessel, conscripted to the Imperial Navy, impressed to the mutineers, then captured by pirates and then by us without anyone bothering to replace him.

Navigators are too rare and useful to waste.

Luckily I still have a hundred clansmen to send to our new ships, although the ore hauler will be reformed to its old task, and simply upgraded with a dozen defensive multi-lasers.

The relic cannons are being removed for scans and attempted reverse-engineering, and one of them is a large Bombardment_Cannon that fires plasma bombs. I find it strange that I never heard of it, since it's very potent, both for planetary bombardments and void combat.

"What do you say, mentor? A dozen of these on every cheap corvette and they'll have the firepower of a frigate. Maybe more." I ask Gyron while examining the trophy gun.

Gyron spins an arm for some reason. "Not a dozen. One per ship. I doubt our own reactor can power a dozen such cannons."

Damn it. Limitations are not fun.

"Would it be stronger than the heavy lance on the Requiem?" I wonder hopeful. The new frigate has exactly one heavy lance, just as powerful as the ones on my cruiser.

Only, the cruiser has eight of them, in 4 twin batteries.

"At least three times stronger. It would have a longer range but a slower rate of fire. Perhaps twice slower than a heavy lance." the Magos explains while interfacing a few mechadendrites with the captured weapon.

I hum inward. Not that great then. I need these ships to match frigates in firepower.

But perhaps I can improve it a bit. I haven't found a single machinery without flaws, not yet.

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