Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Wolf in Sheep's Clothes
Viscount Riley Varcon Marsok was lounging in his Captain's chair, slowly swirling a glass a wine he had pulled from a crate in his personal wine cellar attached to his cabin.
He knew, of course, that being intoxicated while commanding a Navy Star Ship was illegal and punishable by a minimum of 25 years in prison, but he didn't care.
He was the eldest son of the Duke Marsok, one of the most politically influential figure on the Illion, home planet of the Illion Empire.
He was practically untouchable as long as he didn't offend anyone truly important.
He was excited to get back into Imperial Space, fantasizing about the brothels he'd partake in once he jumped into the Flati System, the Markes Systems imperial counterpart.
"Captain, transitioning into the Markes System in 10 seconds."
Riley looked over at his astrogator, a name he'd never bothered to learn.
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Seconds later the Tilan arrived into Markes System, broadcasting their Identifier Beacon.
Riley sat up bolt right, staring in shock as the Sensor reported back the carnage.
"Captain..."
"I see it!"
Riley snapped viciously at his sensor tech, trying to hide the fact that he was scared and dismayed.
He'd received a communication from his father, instructing him to return him as fast as possible, but he'd ignored him, taking a long, circuitous route to the Markes System.
He was about to begin giving orders for a quick translation to the Flati System, hoping to leave before the Federation sent a ship to investigate the disappearance of their System Defense Fleet, when his comms officer got his attention.
"Captain, we're being hailed."
Riley froze, immediately terrified that he'd been caught.
If the Tilan was caught by the Federation, they would inevitably learn about Operation Avalanche.
"Is it Federation?"
"No Sir. It's a Corvette, registered as a bounty hunter under the ITA. IB says it's a Njord-Class, the 'Venator'."
Riley immediately let out a long breath, hating how scared it made him sound.
Then, it struck him that that ships Sensor data could be used to prove he was in-system, making it easy for the Federation to blame Illion.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself to get rid of the ship.
"What's the range?"
"It's stationary, 42 degrees above us, about 100 km away."
Riley cursed, frustrated that it wasn't in range of his Rail Guns, before remembering that the ship had hailed him.
A disgusting grin grew on his face, and more than one crew member looked away in discomfort.
"Accept the hail, connect me to their commander, put it on the view screen."
A moment later, a bearded, tanned face appeared on the screen, with the name Commander Venata printed on the lower left corner.
A small corner of his mind told him that recognized the name, but he dismissed it, channeling arrogance and superiority into his voice.
"Hello Commander Venata ,this is Lord Captain Marsok of the Destroyer INS Tilan, requesting you cut your engines and await boarding."
Riley dispensed with any formalities, immediately trying to intimidate the "lowly Commander" using his ships size and flag to force the other man to comply.
The face in the view screen blanched, obviously scared after hearing such brash introductions.
He began nodding fervently.
"Of course, Lord Captain Marsok. Please come aboard, I have nothing to hide."
It didn't even occur to Riley that no self-respecting ship's commander would allow anyone aboard their ship without at least verbal pushback.
He quickly ordered the helmsman to angle the Tilan to come parallel with the Venator.
He was smiling like maniac, reveling in the fact he'd get to kill another "commoner" with his ship.
A few of his bridge crew thought about suggesting that they stay out of the range of the Rail Guns obviously mounted on the Corvette's sleek frame, but they were more scared of their captain than they were of some bounty hunter.
Fifteen minutes later, the Tilan pulled alongside the Venator, coming to a stop just off the port side.
Riley grinned malevolently, knowing full well that he had no intention of sending a boarding party.
He opened the channel to the Venator again, before schooling his face into cold professionalism.
"Commander Venata, drop your shields and open your Cargo Bay, prepare to be boarded."
"Yes, yes, Lord Captain. Just please don't hurt my crew."
Riley sneered before cutting the connection once more.
But instead of seeing the Cargo Bay doors sliding open, he saw two boxed shapes rise from the top of the Venator.
He didn't recognize them and, in his surprise, he didn't even open the channel to the Corvette.
Truth be told, Riley had been curious about the Corvette since it'd made itself know to him.
He didn't know what a Njord-Class was, but it was too different from the smooth, rounded edges of Federation Ships, and wasn't boxy enough like most Imperial Ships were.
The odd arrow-shaped hull wasn't like anything he'd ever seen.
He was about to ask what the new shapes were, hoping to identify them for the record, when his Sensor Technician screamed behind him.
"Missile launch!"
Riley spun around, incredulity written on his face.
Corvettes massed barely one million tonnes, which prevented them from carrying more that two weapon hard-points on their hull.
Ships that size dedicated most of their Rector's power to running the Sauveterre Engines or the Shield Generators.
Even his Tilan, which was a Destroyer massing in at just over five million tonnes, dwarfing the Venator, had only three weapon systems attached to his hull.
None of them were missile launchers, so how could...?
Before he could finish that thought, two bright blue light's exited the strange boxes that had appeared on the hull of the Venator.
Riley's face paled, screaming at his crew to raise the shields, to shoot down those missiles, anything to save his skin.
In his arrogance, Riley had forgone activating his Shield Generator.
The possibility of a Corvette firing on a Destroyer hadn't even penetrated his thoughts of killing another defenseless ship.
It was too late to do anything, as the two missiles closed the barely 40 km gap faster than any missile the Federation or the Empire possessed.
The Tilan shook, as the first missile impacted the bow of the ship, shearing off the two forward Mk lV Gordak Rail Guns.
The second missile collided with the Sauveterre Engine's main thruster, crippling the Tilan and stranding her in space.
Riley's heart leapt into his throat, unable to breath as damage and casualty reports were yelled at him over the damage alarms.
He hadn't even set the Tilan to battle station, merely crewing the Rail Guns he intended to use to kill the Venator.
"Guns, target that ship and blow it out of space!!"
Riley was still a ships commander, and a moment of clarity allowed him to yell out a semi-coherent order to his bridge.
He knew that even though he'd been surprised, that the Tilan was a tough ship, built to withstand multiple hits from a Federation Destroyer's Missiles, let alone a Corvettes.
He might have considered that even Missiles fired from a Destroyer would pale in comparison to the two that had hit his ship, but he was lost in his rage at the impudence of some commoner bounty hunter.
How dare a paltry Corvette fire on his ship!?
He watched in glee as his Gordaks fired, all four recoiled, flashing with orange light, sending four Traxen Composite rounds into space.
His glee retuned to horror as blue energy expand from the four point's of impact, indicating that the Corvette's Shield had somehow shrugged off four simultaneous impacts from 500 tonne rounds.
He was about to order another volley when the Corvette launched again, and he growled in frustration.
Even the most modern, technologically advanced Missile Launchers and to reload for at least one minute, but that gods-cursed ship had defied logic once again.
Riley was numb at this point, feeling he wouldn't be surprised if the ship magically teleported out of range of his Rail Guns.
His hopes rose briefly as his now active Point Defense Cannons destroyed one of the new missiles, before they were dashed as the second missile danced through the field of fire before impacting in between his still intact Rail Guns.
All four remaining turrets disappeared in a glowing ball of blue energy.
Riley slumped into his captain's chair, knowing full well that without weapons, it was matter of when, not if, the Venator killed his ship.
He hunkered down, fear-addled thoughts clouding his mind, paralyzing him in fear.
Not even the shouts of his crew got through to him.
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