Ep.#10 - Retaliation (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

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Ep.#10 - Retaliation (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes) Page 6

by Ryk Brown

The commander felt as if his head were about to split open. Weapons fire sounded, although none of it was theirs. It was over in a few seconds, and the commander found himself face down on the deck, a boot against his back, as another man slapped restraints on his wrists.

  As the sounds of battle faded, two men picked the commander up off the deck with surprising ease, placing him on his feet again. Before him stood four soldiers, all of the same size and build, and each of them clad in flat-black body armor. They had the look of men who killed for a living and were at ease with their duties. The commander knew from experience that such men were to be feared. The Dusahn were such men.

  The visor on one of the intruders rose, revealing the wearer’s face. “You are in command of this ship?”

  “The captain was injured in your initial attack,” the commander replied. “I am Commander Stethan Andreola of the Orswellan Guard, first officer of the Amonday. I am currently in command.”

  “Did you order these men to defend your bridge?” the intruder inquired.

  The commander looked at the bodies of his bridge staff. “I did not,” he replied. “In fact, I ordered them to stand down.”

  “Then, why did they not follow your orders?”

  “They feared retribution by the Dusahn against their families back on Orswella.”

  The intruder’s left eyebrow went up in a curious fashion. “And you did not?”

  “I have no family,” the commander replied.

  “I see,” the intruder replied. “I take it you have the command codes to this vessel?”

  “I do.”

  “You will give them to me.”

  “I shall be happy to; however, they shall do you little good.”

  “Explain,” the intruder demanded in surprisingly polite, yet direct, fashion.

  “The Dusahn do not trust us. If this ship deviates from its assignment, it will automatically become disabled.”

  “Thank you for your honest response, Commander,” the intruder replied politely, nodding with respect.

  “May I ask your name?” the commander wondered.

  “I am Lieutenant Brons of the Ghatazhak, leader of Alpha Platoon. You and your crew are now prisoners of the Karuzari. You will order the remainder of your crew to cooperate. If any resistance is offered, it will be met with immediate deadly force. Is that understood?”

  “Quite clearly, thank you,” the commander replied. “The few security personnel you’ve already encountered are the only resistance you will meet, Lieutenant. The rest of the crew are technicians and specialists with no combat training.”

  “I hope you are correct, Commander,” the lieutenant stated. “Please, follow these men.”

  “Where am I going?” the commander asked.

  “To the Aurora for interrogation, Commander.”

  * * *

  “Aurora, Lieutenant Brons,” the lieutenant called over comms.

  “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Nathan replied.

  “The Amonday is secure. You are clear to send additional Ghatazhak to secure the prisoners.”

  “How many prisoners are we looking at?” Nathan asked.

  “Eighty-seven,” the lieutenant replied, “fifteen of which are wounded and will require medical attention.”

  “Understood,” Nathan replied. “We’ll launch the shuttles right away.” Nathan turned to look at Jessica and Cameron. “Where are we going to put eighty-seven prisoners?”

  “There’s got to be someplace on Rakuen or Neramese where we can hold them,” Jessica said.

  “I’ll contact both worlds and ask,” Cameron offered.

  “That can wait for now,” Nathan insisted. “We have more important matters.”

  “Like what?” Jessica wondered. “Repairing the ship?”

  “Yes, that’s one, but I was thinking more about a retaliatory attack,” Nathan explained.

  “Isn’t that what we just did?” Jessica stated.

  “What we just did was an act of defense,” Nathan insisted.

  “Technically, no,” Cameron argued. “That battle group was well outside of the Rogen system and was not in any area known to be controlled by any world.”

  “The Dusahn attacked the Rogen system, remember?” Nathan reminded her.

  “And we retaliated,” Cameron continued, “against the closest Dusahn forces we could find, which just happened to be laying in wait to strike again.”

  “How can you say that?” Nathan wondered.

  “I’m just stating facts, Nathan. I’m not passing any judgments. Hell, I agree wholeheartedly with our attack on that battle group.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have any problem with us going one step further and attacking the Dusahn directly, in the Takar system.”

  “Don’t you think we should take a moment to breathe?” Cameron suggested.

  “We need to show them we are ready and willing to attack them directly, or else they’ll be back with more ships to finish us off just as soon as they can get them here.”

  “I don’t disagree with you, Nathan,” Cameron explained. “I just disagree with launching an attack right now. Our forces have been through two battles, back-to-back. Our ship is badly damaged, we have many wounded, and our ability to defend the Rogen system is questionable. At the very least, stand down for twenty-four hours so our crews can recover and we can get a clearer picture of where we stand.”

  Jessica looked to Nathan, then at Cameron, then back to Nathan again.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Nathan told Jessica.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Nathan replied.

  Sergeant Rossi looked at the three of them, dumbfounded. “You have a very odd command structure on this ship, don’t you?”

  “It’s complicated,” Jessica replied.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Commander Prechitt, Lieutenant Sandau, and Council Member Garon watched from one side of the makeshift airbase as the first Sugali fighter came to a hover over touchdown point twenty-one. Once directly over the touchdown point, the ship began its five-meter descent, its landing gear unfolding and locking into place only centimeters before touching the surface of Casbon.

  As the Sugali fighter’s power plant spun down, the three spectators approached. As they grew closer, the front windshield, which wrapped down and around the center of the ship’s split nose, parted midline and opened like a clamshell, revealing the pilot.

  “Welcome to Casbon,” Council Member Garon greeted as she and the others came around to the nose of the fighter.

  The pilot walked down the bottom side of the open canopy, as if it were a boarding ramp, removing his helmet as his feet touched the compacted surface, revealing that he was not only young, but a female. “Thank you,” the pilot replied as she walked toward them. “Nice little place you have, here. Did you carve all this out just for this purpose?”

  “I am told it was once an aramenium quarry,” Commander Prechitt replied.

  “Aramenium,” the pilot commented, sounding somewhat surprised. “No wonder you want so many fighters.” She walked up to the commander and offered a handshake. “Talisha Sane.”

  “A pleasure,” Commander Prechitt replied, taking her hand. “This is Council Member Garon of Casbon.”

  “An honor to meet you, ma’am,” Talisha replied, shaking the council member’s hand.

  “My second in command, Lieutenant Sandau,” the commander introduced.

  “Lieutenant,” Talisha greeted, shaking his hand, as well.

  “Miss Sane,” the lieutenant replied respectfully.

  “Please, call me Talisha,” she insisted.

  “I take it you are the flight instructor we were promised?” Commander Prechitt confirmed.

  “Correct,” Talisha confirmed. “I have more than four thousand hours combined, in all three classes of Sugali fighters.”

  “Have you any combat experience?” Council Member Garon wondered.

  “No, ma’am. I am predominant
ly a stunt pilot. I fly in air shows and the like. But I am also rated as a maintenance specialist, as well as an instructor, and I have taught many pilots to both fly and maintain Sugali fighters.”

  “What kind of pilots?” Commander Prechitt asked.

  “They did not say,” Talisha replied, smiling, “and I did not ask.”

  “I see,” the commander replied. He turned to look at the fighter again. “The egress system of this model is quite different from the one our captain liberated from a group of pirates.”

  “This is the single-seat model,” Talisha explained. “As are the majority of the ships you have purchased.”

  “How many of them are dual-seat trainers?” Lieutenant Sandau asked.

  “I believe there are four,” Talisha replied. “They were included with this first group of twenty ships.”

  “How many more pilots came with you?” the commander asked.

  “I am the only one.”

  “How are the rest of them being ferried down?” Commander Prechitt wondered.

  “I will use my approach logs as a navigation baseline and then transfer it to the other ships on the Baramond, giving each a different touchdown point. Then their AIs will fly them down,” Talisha explained.

  “These ships have AIs?” the council member questioned, concerned.

  “You were not expecting this?” Talisha wondered.

  “I was told the AIs would be an additional cost,” she replied, “one that we did not agree upon.”

  “There will be no additional charges,” Talisha promised her. “I insisted that they be activated on the ships in the first group, which I assume will be used for primary flight training. The Sugali fighter is not an easy ship to pilot, and having active AIs will dramatically increase safety during training.”

  “Interesting,” Commander Prechitt commented.

  “I take it you were not informed of the AIs, either?”

  “I was not,” the commander admitted.

  “Are you uncomfortable with them?” Talisha asked, noticing the look on the commander’s face.

  “Not as far as flight training is concerned,” he replied. “I’m certain they will make the process safer. I just worry about any AI in an armed ship.”

  “I understand your concerns, Commander. The Sugali had similar ones. Therefore, the AIs are incapable of firing weapons. That responsibility is reserved for the pilot. The AI is merely an assistant to the pilot, taking much of the workload off of them.”

  “But, the AI can fly the ship, right?” the commander asked.

  “Indeed,” Talisha confirmed, “if instructed to do so. It can also take the controls if the pilot becomes incapacitated and can even fly the ship back to its home port, as well as communicate with others on the pilot’s behalf.”

  “Does the two-seat version have an AI, as well?” Lieutenant Sandau wondered.

  “It does not,” Talisha replied. “An AI system adds additional weight. Were it installed in the dual-seat version, the ship’s range and/or ordnance load would be significantly reduced.”

  “I would love to give her a spin,” the commander said, admiring the fighter’s sleek lines.

  “A spin?” Talisha wondered.

  “Take her up for a test flight, see what she is capable of,” Commander Prechitt explained.

  “Then, you are a pilot?”

  “I am.”

  “Then, by all means, you should take her up for a spin,” Talisha agreed, smiling. “After a brief orientation, of course.”

  “Of course,” the commander replied, also smiling.

  * * *

  “My lord,” General Hesson greeted respectfully as he entered his leader’s office.

  Lord Dusahn’s eyes narrowed. The look on his general’s face hinted at news he did not wish to hear. “If you are here to tell me that our forces have once again failed to destroy the Aurora, it would be better if you kept your distance,” he warned in seething tones.

  “Our reserve forces were ambushed by the Aurora just as they were preparing to attack, as ordered. All ships, save the Amonday, were destroyed in the first few minutes of the engagement. Early reports indicate that only the Amonday was able to engage the Aurora. However, I fear that she, too, has been lost, since we have not heard from her.”

  Lord Dusahn stood behind his desk, his anger rapidly reaching a boiling point. Suddenly, he exploded, grabbing the crystal water pitcher from his desk and throwing it against the wall with all his might, screaming in rage as he did so.

  General Hesson stood perfectly still as the crystal pitcher shattered, continuing to look straight ahead at his leader.

  “How am I to build an empire,” Lord Dusahn yelled, “when surrounded by inept captains and conspiring nobles!”

  General Hesson’s left eyebrow shot up. “Then, I take it you have read the morning intelligence reports.”

  “I will hang them by their genitals in the middle of the Plaza de Torano so that all will witness their disgrace!”

  “And what of their assets?” General Hesson asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “We will seize them and sell them to the highest bidding house!” Lord Dusahn screamed. “And at a bargain, thus deepening their shame! Their families shall be penniless! Their wives shall become my chambermaids and their daughters my concubines!”

  “Hardly a rational response to expected acts of treason,” General Hesson replied.

  “Do not test me, Hesson,” Lord Dusahn seethed, pointing a menacing finger at the older man. “My patience for these people has neared its end.”

  “You cannot expect those you conquered yesterday to love you today, my lord. Such loyalty takes time, usually many decades.”

  “We do not have decades!” Lord Dusahn yelled. “The majority of our fleet is either outdated or of inferior Orswellan design! Our qualified ranks continue to dwindle, so much so that, soon, our automation will no longer suffice! I need the support of the nobles, and now I find that they have been conspiring against me!”

  “Only the original houses,” General Hesson pointed out, “which was to be expected. Their pride and loyalties run deeper than those of the lesser houses. Perhaps it is there that we must focus our efforts.”

  “I care not about the noble families of this wretched society,” Lord Dusahn stated dismissively. “The common man is where we will place our bets. They are the ones with nothing to lose and everything to gain. We will offer them the same status as those of noble lineage, as well as similar levels of wealth and power.”

  “Men who can be easily bought, can also be easily swayed by the opposition,” General Hesson warned. “I believe those who have something to lose are more predictable and, therefore, more trustworthy.”

  “We shall see after the public executions just how trustworthy the so-called nobles of Takara will be,” Lord Dusahn stated.

  * * *

  “Where’s the COB?” Nathan asked Cameron as he entered the damage control compartment.

  Cameron flashed him a look, saying nothing.

  Nathan sighed. “How?”

  “He was leading the team on the port flight deck when the aft emergency doors gave out,” Cameron explained.

  “Wasn’t he supposed to be in here?”

  “They were shorthanded, and there were people trapped,” Cameron replied. “No way he was going to sit on his hands in here.”

  After a moment’s pause, Nathan asked, “How bad off are we?”

  “The entire port side of the flight deck is a twisted wreck. It will take months to repair, even in a fully-equipped shipyard. Same is true of most of our hull breaches. They’re all along the port side. However, the affected compartments have all been evacuated and sealed off, so, while it reduces our crew-carrying capacity, it won’t interfere with our ability to function.”

  “Except that we won’t have enough crew,” Nathan corrected.

  “We can automate a lot of it,” Cameron told him. “That was one of the things planned for our refit, alo
ng with replacing the antimatter reactors with ZPEDs, some weapons upgrades, and a new sensor suite.”

  “What about the fighter deck?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s wrecked, as well,” she replied. “Practically took the ship’s entire top off.”

  “Damn,” Nathan cursed, placing his hands on the display table in front of him and leaning on them.

  “At least the main hangar bay and the entire starboard flight deck are still operational,” Cameron pointed out. “So, at least help can come and go as needed.”

  Nathan sighed again. “It’s not like you to be optimistic.”

  “The reality is too depressing to even consider,” she admitted. “The truth is, Nathan, the Aurora will never be the same.”

  “Don’t give up on her so quickly,” Nathan urged. “She’s been through worse.”

  “I know, but those were different times. We had Corinair behind us. Rakuen is not nearly as industrialized as Corinair. They cannot support this level of repair; especially not while trying to build up their own defenses.”

  “We have main propulsion, and the majority of our shields and weapons are still working,” Nathan reminded her.

  “Yes, but we’re never going to get full power from the antimatter reactors.”

  “Vlad says he can…”

  “I looked at the damage myself, Nathan,” Cameron insisted. “I’m the first to admit that I’m no engineer, but even I can tell that those reactors are beyond repair. Vlad just doesn’t want to admit it.”

  “Are you suggesting we abandon the Aurora?” Nathan asked.

  “Of course not,” Cameron replied sharply, “but I think we should be realistic about what we can fix and not let our desire to completely restore her interfere with our responsibility to prepare a defense for the Rogen system.”

  “What do you suggest?” Nathan wondered.

  “First off, I think you’re right about needing to take the fight to the Dusahn. We need to start harassing the hell out of them. Constant hit-and-run strikes against ships, ground forces, cargo carriers, communications, everything we can possibly target. At least daily strikes, if not multiple strikes per day.”

  “That’s going to be hard on the crews of those ships.”

  “We can rotate crews and ships. Strikers and Gunyoki go after ships, and Reapers go after ground targets. One of each per day, so no crew is flying more than one sortie a day.”

 

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