Ep.#7 - Who Takes No Risk (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

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Ep.#7 - Who Takes No Risk (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes) Page 8

by Ryk Brown


  Captain Scott’s words, aboard the Mystic Empress, still rang in his ears. Men and women, who had no requirement to do so, had pledged their lives to liberate others. Every one of them could leave the area and seek refuge on some other inhabited world, far enough away from the Dusahn so as to enable them to live out their lives in peace. Yet, they had chosen to stay and defend those who could not, or would not, defend themselves. How could Terig not do the same and live with himself?

  Sometimes, being an honorable man just plain sucked.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Terig spotted Tensen Dalott paying his bill at his table. Terig immediately pulled out his personal credit chip and inserted it into the terminal at the center of the table, paying his own bill, as well.

  “Was your food not to your liking?” the waiter asked, pausing when he noticed his customer rising to leave with a full plate of food still on his table.

  “Huh? Oh, no, it was fine. I’m just not as hungry as I thought,” Terig replied. “I think I have a touch of something,” he added, patting his stomach.

  “Would you like me to package it up for you, to take with you?”

  “No, thank you,” Terig replied, keeping his eyes on Tensen Dalott, who was already heading for the exit. “The hour is late, and I don’t want to miss my train.”

  “As you wish, sir,” the waiter replied politely. “Pleasant journey to you.”

  “Thank you,” Terig replied, heading for the exit himself as Tensen left the cafe. As he made his way across the cafe, Terig kept his eyes on the windows but did not see Tensen passing by, which meant he had gone to the right upon exiting the cafe. Terig followed suit, turning right and heading down the street. At first, he thought he had already lost Tensen, but a moment later, he spotted him crossing the boulevard at the next intersection. Terig quickly darted across the roadway, which at this hour was not busy, quickening his pace in order to move closer to his target.

  His target. Terig found the thought amusing, as if he were some kind of assassin. If he weren’t so scared, he might have laughed at the thought. Instead, he kept his head down, glancing up, only as often as needed, to keep track of the man he was following. But how would he make contact? Wait for the man to get to his residence and then knock on the door? Get on the same train as him? Just walk up to him on the street and strike up a conversation?

  The truth was, Terig had no idea what he was doing, which scared him even more. He continued to follow Tensen to the subway station in the city center. Valatton was one of several transportation hubs around Siskeena, used to ferry workers to the shipyards well beyond the orbit of Takara. It was not uncommon for workers to stop for dinner on their way from the spaceport to the subway to Siskeena, which was where most of them lived.

  Terig got in line with only a few people behind Tensen. He kept his eye on Tensen as he inserted his personal credit chip to pay for entry into the subway system. Tensen had taken the escalator down to the northbound platform, confirming that he was, in fact, headed for Siskeena. Terig was quick to follow, taking the same escalator to the platform below. As he descended, he spotted Tensen moving through the crowd, positioning himself to board the next train.

  Terig followed suit, moving to the same area, but maintaining a few meters between himself and Tensen, so as not to be too obvious in his actions.

  Minutes later, the train arrived, its warning horn sounding while it decelerated sharply as it approached the underground platform. It came to a stop, and its doors opened. As expected, very few disembarked, and Terig was swept aboard in the wave of passengers, managing to come to stand a meter behind Tensen.

  Tensen moved away, taking one of two empty seats along the left side of the cabin. Terig immediately followed but was beaten to the seat by another man, forcing him to continue standing.

  It was a fifteen-minute ride to the Siskeena station, with several stops along the way. By the second stop, the man sitting next to Tensen had departed, and Terig immediately took the empty seat. Finally, he was in a position to speak with the man claiming to be Suvan Navarro.

  Unfortunately, Terig found a lump in his throat. More accurately, it was a lack of courage. He was about to take a step, from which there would be no turning back. He thought he had crossed that line when he sent his first message back to the Karuzari. But this…this was definitely crossing that line.

  The last exit before Siskeena came and went, and Terig still had not found the courage to speak. Finally, as they began to decelerate into Siskeena station, he found the strength. “I am a friend of Yassey’s,” he said just loud enough for Tensen to hear him.

  Tensen offered no noticeable reaction, other than turning his head slightly and glancing at Terig.

  “It is imperative that I speak with you,” Terig added.

  Tensen still did not respond. Finally, as the train came to a stop, Terig spoke again. “I said I…”

  “I heard you,” Tensen said, cutting him off. “Denton Prospect and Illyander. Twenty minutes,” he added, before rising and leaving the train.

  Terig sat motionless, stunned, failing to disembark before the train doors closed. He had just initiated contact with a former noble of Takara. A man who had been exiled and stricken from the records, and had returned to steal the Teyentah right out from under the noses of the Dusahn Empire.

  He would have to catch the southbound train at the next station and move quickly to make the rendezvous. But, for now, he was still alive, and that was good.

  * * *

  “Odds and evens, highs and lows,” Captain Nash’s voice instructed over Aiden’s comm-set. “Five by two, start at ten. Manual execution, as rehearsed. Striker Three has lead. Attack sequence starts in ten seconds.”

  “Striker Three has lead,” Aiden replied. “Check in, boys and girls,” he ordered his crew.

  “Port gunner.”

  “Starboard gunner.”

  “Systems.”

  “Sensors.”

  “Jumping in three,” Kenji added, completing the check sequence.

  “Guns down,” Aiden reminded his gunners as the cockpit windows turned opaque for the jump. Two seconds later, the windows cleared, revealing the cargo ship Soster only one hundred meters ahead of them. Aiden immediately pitched their nose up sharply, bringing the four plasma torpedo cannon barrels, on their underside, onto the Dusahn octo-fighter trailing its charge.

  “Torpedoes locked,” Kenji reported.

  “Let’em have it,” Aiden ordered as he pressed the firing button on his flight control stick. Four plasma torpedoes streaked across their windows, illuminating the cockpit with red-orange light.

  “Four seconds,” Kenji warned.

  Three of the four torpedoes slammed into the trailing octo-fighter, causing it to come apart in a brilliant explosion.

  “Six seconds,” Kenji reported as bolts of plasma energy from Striker Three’s port and starboard gun turrets opened fire on the Dusahn fighters on either side of the Soster.

  “Eight seconds,” Kenji warned as the octo-fighter to port of the Soster broke in two, the result of plasma bolts slicing through its midsection.

  “Oh yeah!” Ledge exclaimed over comm-sets.

  “Pitching down,” Aiden warned his gunners, who would have to adjust their firing angles accordingly.

  “I’m with ya,” Ali assured her captain.

  “Ten seconds,” Kenji announced with a sense of urgency. “Time to go.”

  “Just a moment,” Aiden said as the octo-fighter to starboard of the cargo ship was blown into hundreds of pieces.

  “We have to jump!” Kenji insisted.

  Aiden got a torpedo lock on the final octo-fighter a few hundred meters in front of the Soster and pressed the firing trigger. As soon as the cockpit was awash with red-orange light, he pressed his jump button. “Jumpi
ng!”

  “Jesus, Aiden!” Kenji exclaimed. “You were four seconds too long in the engagement zone!”

  “But we got all four of them, right?” Aiden replied. “Dags, tell me we got that last one.”

  “Just a moment,” Sergeant Dagata replied.

  “That’s not the point, Aiden,” Kenji chided. “The next gunship was supposed to take care of the lead octo-fighter. By staying in four seconds too long, you almost put us in Striker Four’s jump path!”

  “But I didn’t,” Aiden reminded him.

  “We got him, Skipper,” Sergeant Dagata reported.

  “And we took out all four escorts ourselves,” Aiden boasted. “Nice job, people!”

  Kenji just shook his head. “Roselle’s going to have your ass, Aiden,” he warned, “and with good reason.”

  “Bullshit,” Aiden argued. “We had the shot, we took the shot, and we got out before Striker Four jumped in. It’s called taking the initiative.”

  “It’s called disregarding the battle plan,” Kenji insisted. “It’s called disobeying orders. What if Charnelle would have jumped in one or two seconds early?”

  “Then I wouldn’t have to be listening to you complaining,” Aiden joked.

  “Not funny.”

  “You know damned well Charnelle would never jump in early, Kenji. For one, she’s too anal about the battle plan, just like you. Second, she knows that I’m likely to stay a second or two longer, but would be sure to be out of her way before she jumped, as long as she jumped on time, according to plan. That’s why there’s a five-second gap minimum between attack jumps, so that we don’t jump into one another. The battle plan has wiggle room built into it. All I did was use that wiggle room to score another kill, and all without receiving any return fire, I might add.”

  “But Nash and Roselle are looking for compliance at this point, Aiden. Not innovation. They need to know you can follow the plan. That’s the only way everyone else can be sure we’ve all got one another’s back.”

  “I’m sorry, Kenji, I just disagree. If I had jumped in early, I’d agree that I was breaking the attack plan. But like I said, I just used the wiggle room. If we had gotten the shots off a few seconds faster, we might have taken them all out within our ten-second window.”

  “Don’t you see, Aiden,” Kenji argued, “it’s not about whether or not you can do it, or even if you can do it safely. It’s about you taking risks just because you can, not because the situation calls for it. I promise you, Roselle and Nash are going to say the same thing. Just wait and see.”

  “Striker Leader to all Strikers. Target is secure. Take up monitoring positions,” Captain Nash instructed over comms.

  Aiden’s eyebrows rose. “He could have at least congratulated us on four kills in fourteen seconds.”

  “Oh, he will, when we get back to the Aurora,” Kenji warned indignantly.

  * * *

  Terig walked in and out of the streetlights along Illyander Boulevard. It was now twenty-five minutes since the man claiming to be Suvan Navarro had directed him to the approaching intersection. He only hoped he had not grown impatient and left.

  Terig had almost missed the southbound train at the Willette station and was forced to run up the stairs, across the foyer, and back down the escalator to the southbound platform. He had ducked into the train just as the doors were closing and had then run from the train to the street upon arrival back in Siskeena.

  Terig glanced about, looking for any sign of the man going by the name of Tensen Dalott, but he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there were surprisingly few people on the streets. They were only a few blocks from the hotel in which Lord Mahtize had instructed Tensen to stay, which was probably why Tensen had chosen this location. Illyander Boulevard was more of a back street than a main thoroughfare, used mostly to access the backside of businesses which faced Keffin Prospect.

  As he approached the intersection, he slowed his pace somewhat. Just a little. Enough to be easily diverted by a whisper from the shadows but not so much as to attract attention, or even worse, suspicion. He could see the intersection of Denton Prospect and Illyander fifty meters ahead, and he suspected that at any moment, Tensen would step out of a doorway to intercept him.

  Instead, someone grabbed him from behind, dragging him to the narrow alleyway between two buildings. Terig wanted to yell out in panic, but his mouth was firmly covered by a man’s hand. Terig struggled at first but had to settle for simply trying to stay on his feet as the stranger dragged him backwards into the darkness.

  A moment later, Terig found himself with his back firmly against the wall, held tightly by his throat, with the tip of a knife threatening to pierce his chest just below his xiphoid process and slightly left.

  “Move and my blade will pierce your diaphragm, and find its way easily to your heart, causing you to bleed out in seconds,” his abductor threatened in a barely audible, yet menacing, growl.

  Terig froze, afraid to even breathe.

  “You wanted to speak with me,” the voice continued. “Speak.”

  “I work for Lord Mahtize,” Terig began.

  “Keep your voice down,” Tensen warned.

  “I know of your conversation with him.” Terig felt Tensen’s grip on him tighten, the tip of his blade already poking through Terig’s jacket. “I know who you are and what you wish to do.”

  “Then I guess I have no choice,” Tensen said, a tinge of reluctance in his voice as he prepared to thrust his knife deep into Terig and end the young man’s life.

  “Please!” Terig begged. “I can help you,” he continued, lowering his voice again. “I work for the Karuzari…”

  “Now I know you are lying,” Tensen said, again tensing up to deliver the fatal blow.

  “I speak the truth, I swear it!” Terig insisted. “I am in contact with them…”

  “With who?” Tensen demanded, becoming agitated.

  “Captain Scott!” Terig replied, certain of his imminent demise.

  “Fool! Nathan Scott died seven years ago! You have sealed your fate!”

  “I speak the truth!” Terig pleaded. “He is alive. I have spoken with him and Jessica Nash, aboard the Mystic Empress, only a few weeks ago. I can prove it!”

  “A convincing effort,” Tensen admitted as he again prepared to take the young man’s life.

  “He said to tell you ‘come hard to starboard and pitch down forty-five degrees, and do it quickly!”

  Tensen paused, momentarily confused. Then he regained his composure. “Why!” he barked, again tensing up. “Why did he tell me this?”

  “Because a bunch of comm-drones were about to slam into you!”

  Tensen could not believe what he was hearing. His grip on the young man eased a bit, and the tip of his knife began to slowly back away from the young man’s chest. “At what speed were the comm-drones approaching?” he wondered.

  “Ten times the speed of light,” Terig replied in a barely audible whimper.

  Tensen released his grip on the young man’s throat, stepping back. “My God, is it possible?” he asked no one in particular. “Is he really alive?” He looked Terig in the eyes as his emotions swirled wildly within him.

  “It is true,” Terig promised, still afraid to relax. “He is back in command of the Aurora and is working with General Telles, and the Ghatazhak, and Deliza Ta’Akar.”

  “Then the princess survived the attack?”

  “Yes. Together, they have reformed the Karuzari.”

  “Then, they have operatives on Takara,” Tensen realized. “A cell, perhaps.”

  “I’m afraid, I’m it,” Terig told him. “As far as I know. But, I suppose there could be others. I don’t know. I’ve only contacted them once, to tell them about you and your conversation with my employer.”
>
  “Then you are not a covert operative?”

  “No, not really. I believe they referred to me as a ‘digi-spook’.”

  Tensen thought for a moment. “And you can communicate with them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Without fear of discovery?”

  “I believe so, yes,” Terig replied. “Through a relay on Haven.”

  Tensen looked at Terig with one eyebrow raised. “First rule for a covert operative is to reveal as little information as possible, even to friends.”

  “I’m sorry,” Terig said. “I just didn’t want you to kill me. I have a wife…”

  “As do I.”

  “Then, you truly are Suvan Navarro? Captain of the Avendahl?”

  “I am,” Suvan confessed as a wave of relief washed over him. His odds of succeeding in his impossible mission had just gotten measurably better.

  * * *

  Admiral Galiardi moved briskly down the corridor from his personal jump shuttle’s private hangar, to the nearest shuttle tube.

  “I take it things did not go well,” Commander Macklay said as he met the admiral at the intersection and fell in step alongside him.

  “Nothing ever goes well when dealing with the Alliance Council,” the admiral grumbled, disdain in his voice.

  “How many voted against your recommendation?” the commander wondered.

  “It never got to a vote. Scott voiced his opposition, which made it unnecessary. He prefers to wait until ‘all possible diplomatic solutions have been exhausted.’ Those damned battle platforms are going to get their marching orders and disappear into FTL, making them nearly impossible to find until they’re within striking distance of Earth.”

  “What can we do?” the commander said.

  Admiral Galiardi ignored the commander, realizing it was a rhetorical question. They turned the corner into a shuttle station, where a handful of technicians were waiting to board. “Make a hole!” the admiral barked. The men moved aside, clearing a path for the admiral and the commander.

 

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