Chapitre 40: Chapter 40: Captured
I could feel the sweat pooling in his command chair. I stared in horror at the floating hulks of wreckage that had been Imperial Destroyers mere moments ago. My Sensors still couldn't figure out where the mysterious shots had come from, but I knew that there was no way my lone Destroyer could stand up in a fight against that Light Cruiser.
I looked back and forth between the tactical display and the live feed from the merchant ship, dreading what I was about to do.
I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. It was considered bad form to reveal your emotions while in command, but I thought I deserved a brief respite from order. I'd just witnessed a single Light Cruiser effortlessly destroy two Imperial Destroyers without sustaining any damage in return.
After a beat, I looked up to my Comms section.
"Lieutenant, hail that ship." My voice was hoarse, colored by shame and weary. I tried to look confident, or at least content, but the looks on my bridge crew's faces told me I'd failed.
"Yes, Sir." The apprehension from my Communications officer was like a fan to the fire of my embarrassment. I waited, trying again for a confident exterior. I idly wondered at the thought process of the commander who'd just bested me so thoroughly. In the end, it came down to those mysterious weapons they'd used to surprise my brethren.
A moment later, a signal from Comms let me know of a pending request for communication, obviously originating from the Cruiser. I sighed, willing my face into neutrality. A second later, I nodded.
My first impression of the enemy commander was his age. The man had wisps of grey twirling through a mane of black. His beard was the same color, neatly trimmed. His eyes reminded Borak of one of the constant storms of his home world, shifting from grey to blue almost like water. The scars told of extensive combat experience and the story of the missing left eye was one I wished I knew.
"Hello, Commander." The voice from the other side of the view screen was gravely, scarred by age. The deep baritone reminded me of my own Admiral's command voice, but somehow this commander's voice put him to shame.
"I am Commander Daniel Venata, a private contractor working with the Federation's 8th Sector Commander. I formally request your surrender. If you accept, a squad of my marines will board your ship and remand you into their custody. I swear on my honor that none of your crew will be harmed if they refrain from engaging my men. Do you accept?"
I was awed by the complete lack of sneering, bragging, or showmanship from the other Commander. If I'd beaten someone in the manner that I had been, I would have at least let a trace of condensation slip through.
"I accept your terms, Commander Venata. I will await your men aboard my bridge." I succeeded in keeping my voice even, letting out a breath as the other man nodded briefly before clicking off.
I sat back in my chair, awaiting the inevitable with not a small amount of dread.
But also a bit of curiosity.
---
It was a few hours before the chime of an entry request sounded over the bridge. My steward tapped on his datapad before looking over at me.
"Sir, they say they are the squad responsible for collecting you. Should I admit them?" The posh accent of Steward Linus still irritated me, even after 10 years with the man.
"Yes, dear Robert." I stood from my command chair facing the doorway, idly wondering at Robert's ability to keep such an upper-class demeanor no matter the situation.
As my mind wandered, another chime, higher pitched, signaled the opening of the doorway. All thoughts flew from my head as I beheld the scene which greeted me.
In the doorway stood what could only be described as a metal monster. 2.5 meters of solid black battle steel armor, dotted by blue lights and topped with what looked to be an optical sensor stared at me from the doorway. A few yelps and a few more gasps echoed through the bridge as my crew took in the same sight.
The monster was so startling that I forgot my manners, prompting the other party to speak first.
"Are you Commander Joseph Borak, commanding officer of the Rage-Class Destroyer Infix?" The voice was feminine, which wasn't important but my brain insisted on filing it away. I took a moment to gather myself once more, straightening my uniform and looking into the optical sensor.
"Yes, I am. I presume you are the marines Commander Venata has dispatched to retrieve me?"
"We are. I am Staff Sergeant Gutierrez. Please collect any belongings you will require for an extended stay away from your ship. I've been instructed to tell you to bring Executive Officer Marof, Chief Engineer Salinsky, Chief Medical Officer Baroque, and Chief of Weapons Operation Farrow. If you don't comply, we will be forced to collect them ourselves. Once you've completed these tasks, please join me in the corridor."
With that, the robot snapped off a curious salute a turned away, ducking as she passed back through the hatch.
Silence reigned for a few minutes before a light cough from Robert startled me into action.
"Robert, please collect Gregor, Jax, Amelia, and Rachele. Also, please retrieve at least a few days' worth of clothing from my quarters. Once you've all joined me, I will brief you together.
"Michael," I turned to my head of security. "You will be joining me when I leave, no others. I know protocol dictates I have two guardsmen with me but you'll have to make do with yourself."
I continued giving orders, and the bridge dissolved into measured tapping on datapads and workstations. Robert exited through a service hatch that would take him to my quarters. I stood amidst it all, giving cursory instructions while I mulled over the possible questions Commander Venata was going to ask.
I was only a Baron, which despite being a Nobel rank was too common to warrant any notably large ransom. My family would pay the amount, me being the heir to the Borak name and all, but still. My status as a Convoy Commander might hold some interest to Venata, but it certainly wasn't enough to warrant ambushing the convoy.
The convoy. Of course. He wanted to know about the Cargo. I cursed inwardly, hoping that the marines who'd boarded the Clar hadn't found it, but the knowledge espoused by the Sergeant dashed that hope.
I stood frozen amongst the activity of the bridge, protocols for capture being executed in haste. Computers were being purged, weapons taken offline, and essential compartments sealed and barricaded.
I had to wait a few more minutes for the individuals that I had requested Robert to gather, to come out from the service entrance.
Executive Officer Jax Marof, a lean man from a light-grav world, saluted me. His dark hair and green eyes were filled with curiosity, but I gave him a small shake of my head to head off any questions.
Chief Engineer Gregor Salinsky saluted as well, but it was weaker than Jax's. The burly man was still covered in various liquids he had no doubt accumulated while toying with the Savatorre Engine. His dark eyes searched mine, and he stayed silent once he found what he was looking for.
Chief Medical Officer Rachele Baroque was still tapping at her datapad, insisting on completing a few last-minute orders before she greeted me. Her red hair was sweaty and tangled, and I assumed she had been called away from some surgery or another. Navy personnel accumulated quite an impressive list of injuries during their service aboard warships, so Rachele was always busy.
My eyes finally landed on Amelia Farrow, Chief of Weapons Operation. She was new, infix being her first deployment, but her expertise with every weapon system in the Imperial Arsenal made her one of the most important people on the ship, even above my XO. She was nervous, fiddling with her dark hands and running them through her dark, wavy hair.
Once they all settled in front of me, Robert took his place to my left, hands folded behind his back. I glanced around, assuring myself that everyone else was distracted before speaking.
"Alright everybody, no doubly you're wondering why I called for you. To be honest, I am not sure myself. Our captors have requested you all specifically by rank and name. I don't know what questions they will ask, or what treatment we can expect, so I wanted to speak to you first. Your oaths are still in effect. Any classified, or restricted intelligence they inquire about is to be kept that way. The Lassin Accords dictate that enhanced interrogation will be met with prison time, enforced by all signatories, including the Federation. Otherwise, be on your best behavior. I do not want to write any more letters than I have to."
All heads nodded, although their reactions ranged from confusion to apprehension. I couldn't blame them. I considered warning them about the Marines in the hall, but I let it go, hoping that I could enjoy their reactions.
I nodded to each of them, gesturing at each of them to follow. Michael Stord fell in on my right, hand on his flechette revolver. I placed a hand on him, and he blushed before nodding and shifting his hand away. I didn't need to tell him that his revolver would probably be next to useless against the Marines.
I nodded to Robert, who tapped on his datapad, opening the hatch. A small squeak came from somewhere behind me, and I looked around to see Amelia staring with wide eyes at the marines that lined the corridor. Staff Sergeant Gutierrez was standing in the middle of the pathway, facing away from us. She turned at the sound of the hatch whooshing open. She looked at my entourage, and I could see faint flickers of light splayed across her sensor.
After a brief pause, she nodded, turning away without a word and waving at us to follow. I quickened my pace to catch up to her, and I heard the Marines flank the group from both sides. We strolled through the corridor, making for the elevator that would take us to the Docking Bay.
As we walked, dozens of questions were flooding my mind, but my nerves were still fried from the shocking losses of my convoy.
I hadn't ordered the other Destroyers to attack. I specifically ordered them to hold a position among the asteroids, hoping to throw off any targeting systems. I had watched in silent horror as the other two captains had sneered at me from the viewscreen, condescension oozing from their lips as they called me a coward and an embarrassment.
As I wallowed in my self-loathing, I heard a scuffle from behind me. I looked around to see Gregor getting shoved away from one of the Marines. The engineer looked abashed, but I could see the curiosity boiling in his eyes.
I'd known the man for only a few months, but I had become accustomed to his almost fanatic need to study new technology. Once, on a layover in the Gressel System, Michael had retrieved an unapologetic Gregor from lockup for sneaking into a classified research lab.
"Gregor, keep your hands to yourself!" I snapped, which got me an unrepentant look from the Engineer.
I turned to Sergeant Gutierrez to apologize.
"I beg your forgiveness, Staff Sergeant. My Chief Engineer forgets himself when he's around new technology." I heard a snort from somewhere behind me, and the distinct crackle of an audio speaker told me it was from a Marine.
The Sergeant didn't even turn around. "You haven't seen anything," She muttered, though it was still loud enough for all to hear.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone