Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [23]
One of the small corsair ships broke away and tried to flee, accelerating so hard its white-hot engine cowlings began to vaporize into plasma, causing the pirate to veer off in an unstable flight path. With several jazer blasts, two Remoras destroyed the fleeing corsair before he could slip out of detector range.
Lanyan shouted into the ship-to-ship comm, "I want some alive. Don't fry them unless you have no choice."
A chorus of acknowledgments came over the speakers, and then the midsized Manta cruisers joined the fray. Flying fast, the Remoras opened fire with concentrated jazer pulses, and all hell broke loose.
Fed up with standing on the sidelines, Rlinda ran to the communications console and with one big shoulder knocked Lanyan out of the way. She adjusted the frequency to the Voracious Curiosity 's private channel. "BeBob, get your ass out of there! If I don't see you moving out of the firing zone in five seconds, I'm going to come over there and do it myself."
"Don't need to tell me twice, Rlinda," BeBob's surprisingly firm voice answered, but she knew he was just putting on a brave mask. Branson Roberts could be cool in a crisis, but he was not a boulder-headed hero-in-training.
The Voracious Curiosity changed course to head down the Z-axis below Yreka's ecliptic and away from the battle zone. Not a scratch from a stray blast or a ricochet. Rlinda breathed a sigh of relief, but told herself it was only because she wanted the Curiosity to be clean and undamaged for her upcoming trip to Theroc.
The Mantas crippled the pirate ships, and Remoras rounded up the vessels in short order. One EDF pilot scorched his hand when a control panel sparked out due to a malfunction that had been missed during the recent inspection overhaul. That man became Lanyan's sole casualty.
The corsairs' hodge-podge of ships hung corralled within the surrounding barricade of EDF vessels. The spacecraft looked old and patched, strange designs assembled from mismatched components and mixed-up blueprints. Their hulls were scarred, their engines damaged in the recent fight.
"I want all prisoners shuttled over to my Juggernaut," Lanyan said. "Bring them to the cargo bay. Make sure you put neural clamps on their wrists and strip them of all weapons."
Next, EDF soldiers began the most dangerous part of the operation, boarding the nine remaining corsair vessels and taking prisoners. While they removed the pirate crews, leaving the ragtag vessels guarded by designated troops, one corsair captain initiated a critical overload, attempting to blow up his vessel and vaporize any EDF forces within range. But the botched self-destruct routine succeeded only in melting down the engine core, burning through the hull, and shooting out a narrow jet of fire. The unexpected venting made the corsair ship careen out of control like a whirligig, until it finally sputtered out and drifted in space, dark and ruined, not even worth the salvage.
Rlinda accompanied General Lanyan to the Juggernaut's cargo bay, where thirty-one prisoners were brought forward. The men stood helpless with angry eyes and tattered shirts, hands bound, rich in dignity but poor in common sense.
"Which one is Rand Sorengaard?" Lanyan swept his ice-blue eyes across them, working his jaw to contain his indignation. "And don't play any stupid tricks. You'll all face the same punishment anyway."
The men glanced at each other, trying to look haughty, jaws clenched, eyes blazing. Several of the pirates appeared ready to step forward in a foolish attempt at bravery, but a tall, lantern-jawed man volunteered first. He looked at the others with the sure, confident gaze of a leader. "You men stand down. I'll face my own crimes." He turned to Lanyan. "I'm Rand Sorengaard. I don't recognize your authority to arrest me."
"Aww, are you trying to hurt my feelings? Maybe you'd better make your excuses to this lady here." The General put a hand on Rlinda's