Chapter 240: (Nakteti)

Nakteti stood next to Major Carnight, her mother a few feet away and standing next to Captain Manners. Both Tnvaru were holding tight to their gripping sticks with all four hands, staring out the macroplas at the blackness of space beyond.

The space station was huge, to say the least. Normally used by the massive Terran dreadnoughts or leviathan class vessels it was also used for the larger trading vessels.

Nakteti was always amused by the fact that Terran trade ships were often bigger than warships of the same class. She wasn't aware of the exact tonnage, but just sheer size most trade vessels were much more massive than their military counterparts. She knew it was because they lacked the sheer mass and didn't have the energy requirements of a warship, but it was still somewhat daunting.

Dozens of ships were slowing down, being grabbed by the station's tractor/pressor beams as the tugs maneuvered them into position.

"They've been attacked," Sangbre said softly. "Many of them are damaged."

"Yes," Captain Manners said.

Nakteti reached out and tapped the macroplas, focusing on one ship in particular that was brightly painted with images of cartoon characters on the hull. One of the engines was obviously destroyed, another was leaking energy from a large crack down the side. The multicolor paintjob was blackened and scorched. Nakteti swooped to a different one, this one showing craters and pits in the bare minimum hull armor most Terran transport and trade ships ran with.

"What happened?" Nakteti asked.

"We're not sure yet. They've been streaming in all day, all of them broadcasting priority signals," Major Carnight said. "All of them are broadcasting emergency signals too. As soon as I heard, I arranged for you to get shuttle transport up here."

"That is Max-a-Million's ship," Sangbre said, highlighting one of the largest cargo ships. "I recognize it's terrible paint job and its ostentatious appearance." The ship was, like many of the others, multicolored with animated paint jobs . "It is damaged. I fear I know where they were."

Nakteti turned to Sangbre. "Where?"

"Tnvaru," Sangbre said, trembling slightly. "I sent the junkers and traders to Tnvaru to bring back wood and plants and other examples of life from our home-world, as well as retrieve as much personnel property as they could from our people."

Nakteti nodded. In the year since she had purchased the world the Tnvaru had abandoned their homeworld and moved to the colony worlds after the Lanaktallan had insisted that all Tnvaru leave Unified Council Space. Most of them had been packed into converted luxury liners by the tens of thousands, forced to leave behind everything but a small bag or two during the mad scramble to leave Unified Council Space. Not everyone had left, there were some who refused to leave the homeworld even with all the shocking revelations that had taken place, but it was less than a million Tnvaru.

"They were attacked in Tnvaru. The Unified Council?" Nakteti wondered.

"I want to talk to Max, he's the one I brokered this through," Sangbre insisted.

Major Carnight checked his implant and saw the Max was already getting ready to disembark only a short distance away down the concourse. "This way, ladies," he said.

Nakteti grabbed his hand with two of her own. Sangbre did not, drawing herself up and holding tight to her gripping stick. The walk was short, through only a single emergency door. The first thing Nakteti noticed is that there was a Confederate Emergency Medical Team surrounding the door to the umbilical that had been pressurized during her walk.

"I hope Max himself has not been injured," Sangbre said.

Major Carnight checked his implant and frowned. The data was locked behind security that was still being applied to data from the incoming ships.

Something big had happened.

"He informed me that he was going to hire mercenaries to assure his safety from Unified Military Council Forces," Sangbre said. "The Council must have wanted to destroy him very very badly."

"Max's cargo leviathan is also armed. Anti-piracy weaponry in the Confederacy, but that kind of weaponry and shielding should have easily protected him from anything the UMC could have fielded," Nakteti added.

"And a couple dozen high end mercenaries should have deterred the UMC from attacking," Sangbre murmured.

The aperture dilated open and the medical crew moved into the umbilical, their pace steady and careful but still giving the impression of urgency. The quartet stood and waited for a few minutes till finally someone came back out.

Max was missing his garish suit covered in animated cartoons, instead he was dressed in a battered but well kept armored vac-suit, the face shield retracted. His normally jovial expression was gone, replaced by exhaustion and a faint aura of defeat. The little robot following him didn't squeak and bounce but just trundled along on its little treads.

"Matron Sangbre, Matron Nakteti," he said, moving slowly up to the quartet. He shook his head and gave a harsh barking laugh. "First time I've ever had to say this: I'm going to have to refund your money, I had to drop your cargo."

Sangbre nodded slowly. "Come, Max, let us find a place to relax. You look as if you could use a good sit down."

Max nodded. "Someplace that isn't a crash cradle? Definitely."

Major Carnight checked his implant. There was a receiving lounge that was cleared out and available. He noted the rest of the lounges were all labeled for medical use only and frowned slightly.

"Is there a problem, Major?" Nakteti asked.

Major Carnight shook his head. "No, no. Right this way," he said.

Max moved slowly and the quartet dropped their pace to stay with him as they moved a couple dozen meters down a hallway and through an emergency door.

The lounge was stripped down and Captain Manners noted that the normal posters were missing as well as the displays were all turned off and withdrawn into the walls. He locked eyes with Major Carnight, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Max dropped into a chair, sighing, and put his feet up on his little robot, who gave a short little happy tune.

Sangbre called up some cold drinks, taking one to Max, before sitting down.

"What happened?" Nakteti asked.

Max heaved a sigh and set down his drink. "The hiring was no problem. We had a good sized fleet when we dropped into the Tnvaru system. Almost three hundred junkers and traders, sixty mercs so that each group of ten had two escorts, a few companies of infantry for security."

He rubbed his face with one hand, winced, and slowly tugged his glove off.

"The system was being absorbed by the Lanaktallan when we arrived. We had the firepower to make them at least act like they were going to leave us alone, so we all went into parking orbits and started heading planetside to load up personnel effects, gather foliage and fauna, things like that," Max said. He rubbed his face again. "We'd been at it for about three days when everything came apart on us."

Sangbre twisted her grip on her stick with her catching hands. "The Executors?"

Max shook his head. "No. Precursors."

Sangbre and Nakteti both rocked back.

"Thirty made the initial helljump into the system and immediately moved to attack vectors on the belt facilities and gas giant facilities," Max said.

----------------------

"Talk to me, Are-Two," Max said, pausing from where he was overseeing a group of drumbles from packing up the personal belongings of another family into the plas-crates.

--thirty attack class amw moving to attack asteroid belt and gas giant facilities-- his eVI aboard his ship answered. --Executor and UMC are moving to defend planet and facilities--

"Yeah, like they'll be able to stop them," Max said, thinking rapidly.

The Lanaktallan next to him trotted to face him. "What is wrong, Maximum Max?"

"Precursor Autonomous War Machines just helljumped into the system," Max said, tapping his leg and staring at the crate.

"That is impossible. As one of the Executor Most Highs I would have been notified," the Lanaktallan harrumphed. He touched him implant. "This is A'abvi'is, give me a system status."

"Are-Two, warm up the engines, we might have to get out of Dodge Challenger if the UMC can't hold them off," Max ordered.

--roger roger--

"Hey, Max, this is Rapier, my ship eVI just pinged me, said we've got in-system helljumps," one of the larger junkers called out over the comlink.

"Are-Two just told me. It's thirty of them, but attack class not harvesters, the UMC should be able to handle them," Max said. He waved at the drumbles to load the crates in the apartment onto the shuttle outside.

"I see a harvester, I'm out," Rapier warned.

"We see a harvester, I'm right there with you," Max said, watching at the robotic drumbles carried the crates out. He turned to the Lanaktallan. "Next apartment, my Six Eyed Sitter."

"A moment, Maximum Max," the Lanaktallan said, holding up two hands. He went back to speaking over his datalink. "I order you, lowly one, to report to me what is going on in the system."

The Lanaktallan's crests suddenly expanded and he whinnied in fear. All six eyes opened wide and his tendrils curled tightly. The Lanaktallan turned to Max, who had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Max, you do things for money like any sensible beings, correct?" the Lanaktallan asked.

"Of course, my man. Credits, favors, and goods are the lifeblood of the galaxy," Max said.

The Lanaktallan reached into his vest and pulled out his Executor medallion. "This is pure platinum casing with red diamond decorations," the Lanaktallan said. "The crest of a Most High System Executor."

"I see that," Max said, using his datalink to tell his drumbles to hold off on loading the plas crates.

"I will give this to you in return for your solemn junk man oath," The Lanaktallan said.

"What do you need?" Max asked. It was more than the metals and gems, those could be easily fabbed up or recovered, it was the solid tangible proof that the Lanaktallan was willing to pay for something.

"My wife and three colts are only sixty miles away, on my estate, where I have nearly thirty workers," the Lanaktallan said. He pulled the medallion off of his neck. "Get my wife, my colts, my servants, and their families out of this system." He held it forward. "Get them out, Maximum Max, and this is yours."

Max thought it over. He had his ship configured for multiple client secured cargos, which meant he had literally thousands of storage areas. His crew quarters were largely in use by his crew, but fifty or so additional beings wouldn't make a difference.

Before he could answer the Lanaktallan held the medallion up to his face and pressed the center gem. A light passed over the Lanaktallan's face and the medallion beeped.

"This Terran, Maximum Max a Millions the Junker, is operating under my authority. Impede or interfere with him at your own peril, so say I, A'abvi'is, Grand Executor," the Lanaktallan said. He grabbed Max's hand and pressed the medallion into it. "Please, Max, my family. I cannot help them, I must go and help defend the system, but you, you can save them."

"I'd be going for Terran space, A'ab, my man," Max said. "I'd be running hard for Confed space."

"As long as you have my family taken somewhere safe, I do not care where you run," the Lanaktallan looked out the window at the Executor craft landing next to Max's cargo shuttle. "I will die here. Do not let my family die. Give me your word."

Max looked at the medallion, then at the Lanaktallan. "You have my word, Junker's Code of Honor."

The Lanaktallan just nodded. He tossed Max another little device. "This will lift the security lock on your weapons that you voluntarily agreed to."

Without another word he galloped out as Max turned and looked at his shuttle. The dumblers were waiting at the back ramp, still carrying the plas-crates.

--max max harvesters many many harvesters--

"How close, Are-Two?" he asked.

--eight hours if they come straight in--

He took a deep breath and made a decision. "Boys, dump the cargo. Are-Two, dump the cargo, wet-print enviro-gens and bring the shuttles down on my position."

"Max, my eVI just notified me there's like a hundred harvesters just arrived, just sitting out there at the resonance zone. I told you I'd," Rapier started.

"You leave now, you're breaking contract," Max warned.

"Max, those are Precursor AWM's out there. They're the size of small moons. I can't spend my money if I'm dead," Rapier protested.

Max clicked his link over to everyone. "Everyone, listen up, I know that all of you know that if you jump now, you don't get paid. I also know you've gotta be alive to spend the money," he took a deep breath.

"Dump the cargo. Reconfigure for mass passengers, get your shuttles down there and start evacing. Children have priority, same with any Tnvaru who will come along. The secondary sex, dominant sex last," Max said. "I know, I know, we're not a military force, but we've got hours to load up people."

There were some complaints and Max took a deep breath. "Everyone who loads up refugees, I'll give you the coordinates to the Mar-gite War decommissioning yard I've been skimming the past couple decades. There's enough junk there to keep you going for years."

One by one the rest of the junkers, not all, but most, signified they were in.

"What about us, Max?" the leader of the mercenary force asked.

"Have your troops escort the ships. March those people on at gunpoint if you have to. Keep your ships defending the junkers, the Council's going to have to fight this war without us," Max said.

"I've got about a dozen ships with grey-market C+ cannons," he said after a moment.

"Use those to keep the lighter ones off of us. Those harvesters are the big threat, but they're big and slow," Max said. "I'll triple your contract bonuses. You know I'm good for it."

"All right, Max. I'm trusting you not to screw us on this," the merc said, then clinked off the comlink.

Outside the Executor had boarded his shuttle, but not before leaving Max with the coordinates to his family's mansion.

--------------------

Less than two dozen of the junker ships were left in orbit. The majority had hit max occupancy and jumped out to a nearby system, both to wait for everyone else to catch up as well as warn the UCC there that there were harvesters in the Tnvaru system. The merc ships had pulled tight to the last of the junkers, their weapons engaged with knocking out the smaller vessels.

But the harvesters were less than an hour out.

"Max, I'm full. I've packed them to the hilt," Genvik radioed.

"Get out of here. I'm still loading," Max said, watching as the terrified female and colt Lanaktallan got aboard the shuttle.

Twice there had been orbital shots that had hit the planet, blotting away entire cities and leaving behind nothing but a massive crater.

"Don't be a hero, Max," Genvik warned. "You can't save everyone."

"I can try," Max said, watching as a dumbler picked up a small stuff and carried it to the crying Lanaktallan female colt.

He looked up at the sky.

He didn't have much time.

-----------------

The wailing and crying was audible even through the deck plates as Max settled into the command couch. He was packed to the bulkheads, his nano-forges running off environmental generators normally used in warships or luxury liners, his computers busy scanning and reconstructing the templates for the nutricud and nutripaste the refugees would need.

"We're the last one, Max," Are-Two said from the console. "Hyperjump data already crunched. Shields holding."

"Get us out of here," Max said, staring at the planet below. The oceans were already hidden by steam, there was already clouds of dirt and dust obscuring large sections of the proto-continent. The ship shuddered as another barrage of missile were held off by his battlescreens.

"Please, I pack military grade gear, my electronic nemesis," Max sneered as the big ship started moving. He leaned back and plugged himself in, taking a breath or two before he opened his eyes.

There were nearly a hundred of the harvester class coming straight at him as he deployed the guns. He'd unloaded the magazines and storage for the missiles and the nCv cannon, returning the mass to the nanoforges, but he still had energy weapons and what munitions were loaded.

The only way to hit hyperspace was to go straight through them.

The Executor vessels, the Corporate and Military council vessels were all gone, reduced to expanding clouds of debris, leaving Max the sole non-AWM in the system.

His ship shuddered again as a barrage of missiles clipped the edge of his shields. He slammed the throttle, knowing that some of his passengers might be injured, and drove for the jump-point. He had to get out of the planet's gravity shadow and the only way to do that was to head straight for the Precursor ships.

Long minutes went by as he emptied the magazines at the ones that had a chance to reach him with missiles or nCv shots. It wasn't much, but Max noticed that the AWM's were more wary of his weapons than they had been of the Council forces weaponry.

I've got a few tricks you might not have seen, Max thought to himself, configuring the missile loadouts. He ignored the straight weapons preferred by Space Force and went for the weird warheads that had countermeasures developed centuries, thousands of years before.

Two of the AWM's had a handful of missiles from the barrage slip through everything they could throw at them to stop the howling crazed weapons. The first one took a hit from a single missile. The Strategic Intelligence Core wasn't worried about it, after all, the ship was the size of a continent and upgraded with new armor and combat designs.

The Alcubierre Warhead went off, compressing tens of kilometers of the ship into the accelleration band, then twisting to release all of the matter as gamma radiation around the forward arc, vomiting up the bite as ravening energy.

The AWM heeled off to the side, spouting a massive plume of vaporized metal and energy as it reeled out of formation.

The second one took a handful of hits as the two missiles that got through the battlescreens and the point defense systems erupted into submunitions. The submunitions linked together and formed a pair of jumpgates right as they touched the ship.

A full 6% of the Harvester Class AWM was gated from the back of the ship to just ahead of the front, the equivalent velocity now at 180 degrees as it was prior and inside the debris shielding.

The AWM hit a wall as its face slammed into its own ass.

The return shots pummeled Max's ship, he felt a rib go as an nCv shot got enough particles through to hit the superstructure over his engines, making it hard to breathe. Another shot got through. Then another, and Max felt the damaged rib push through a lung as the engine casing cracked and the engine went down, taking the one next to it with it.

Almost there, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth.

Another set of hits, this one hard enough to make the entire ship shudder. An nCv shot passed close enough to the hull that the space/time ripples in realspace peeled back armor in a gash measured in meters.

But the interior lining held.

He was close enough now that he was trying to dance between energy weapons, as graceful as an epileptic hipoo on ice skates dancing in gravel, winded, hurting, and partially lamed. He could hear his passengers all crying out in fear as another barrage pummeled him, this one a few missiles getting through and clawing at the warsteel armor with heavy x-ray lasers.

--jumpoint reached--

**JUMP JUMP JUMP** he yelled.

The massive cargo ship adjusted heading, accelerated, then vibrated as the ship made the jump to hyperspace.

Max leaned back in his command couch and breathed a sigh of relief. He brought up the data and looked. His injuries slowly vanished from his senses as he came out of combat and evasion mode and set his mind to maintaining the ship's status.

He'd dumped all of the cargo Matron Sangbre had contracted him to retrieve and move, but his massive cargo ship was packed with refugees. It wouldn't be comfortable, in some of the former storage lockers they were packed standing room only, everyone would be on half rations and the air quality would be for shit in a few days and the water would taste bad inside of a week, but he'd gotten more off than he thought.

He even had two shuttles full of Tnvaru and a shuttle full of Telkan in the packed shuttlebay.

I left behind thousands, tens of thousands of them, Max thought to himself. Broke families up at gunpoint. Pulled children from parents, ripped spouses apart. It's the Mar-gite War all over again.

-------------------

Max slumped down in the chair, staring at Matron Sangbre with haunted eyes.

"As I said, Matron, I broke contract. I dumped your cargo," he said softly. "A junker, dropping cargo."

Matron Sangbre stood up and moved slowly over to the human, putting two hands on each knee.

"How many Tnvaru did your ship alone pull off the planet?" she asked.

"I use heavy assault shuttles that used to drop entire battalions and urban pacification droids as workdroids, old ones, so," he checked his datalink. "Nine thousand, four hundred, fifteen Tnvaru, one third of them children. I forced them aboard at gunpoint, some of them I stunned with neural weapons and just loaded them up like junk."

Matron Sangbre shook her head. "I don't care. You saved nearly ten thousand of my people."

Nakteti moved up and touched Max's arm. "You could have put all of our old stuff in front of us and burned it on a bonfire and we would not care. It hurts, yes, to lose everything you once owned, but it would hurt more to lose those you saved."

Nakteti looked at Sangbre. "I do not believe this should result in a complaint to the Junker Association, do you, mother?"

Matron Sangbre shook her head. "No. I feel we Tnvaru should commend them."

Nakteti looked back at Max. "When was the last time you slept without your mind linked into your ship to try to keep all the refugees alive?"

Max shook his head. "Two months. We went as high up as I dared. We jumped into the other system to find it already destroyed so we convoyed out."

Nakteti looked at Major Carnight. "The Tnvaru people will insist on repairs to their ships as well as any medical costs they might incur."

Major Carnight nodded as Nakteti turned back to her mother. "I will be back," she told the older matron.

Nakteti left the lounge, heading back up the short corridor. When she opened the door the sounds of fear and anxiety reached her.

The entire concourse was full of Lanaktallan colts, some holding onto adult females who looked around with wide frightened eyes. There were a handful of members of other species, mostly dressed in ragged and worn servant or menial worker clothing or random assortments of clothing that could be run off a nanoforge. They all looked malnourished and shaky to Nakteti.

She could see Max's ship beyond, through the macroplas. The engineers had gotten the engine damage under control and it no longer leaked energy.

What good is power and wealth if you do not use it? she thought to herself. She turned to Major Carnight. "Put me in contact with someone in authority. The Tnvaru people will assist in the cost of getting these beings housing."

Major Carnight knew how the Tnvaru people had been treated by the Lanaktallan but did not let any surprise show on his face.

"Those children need to be made comfortable as soon as possible before the emotional damage in compounded," Nakteti said, moving forward. She stopped in front of a female Lanaktallan who had a half dozen colts touching her and looking around with wide fearful eyes.

"What will become of us?" the female Lanaktallan asked, her eyes full of tears. "Will the Terrans hurt the colts? Hurt me? Are we prisoners? Will we starve?"

Nakteti reached up and took the females four hands in her own, looking up at the obviously distressed female.

The words came easily, much more easily than she thought they would.

"Do you need assistance?"