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 10

by Ryk Brown


  “We will follow the ravine down the side, all the way to the river,” Michael explained. “Then we’ll follow the river downstream until it crosses a road.”

  “And then we follow the road?” Birk surmised.

  “We will see.” Michael carefully stepped out of the crevice, looking around the forest as he moved. “We must move quickly, but quietly. We will try to make it to the nearest town before dawn. If we are unsuccessful, we will have to find another hiding place for the day.”

  “As long as it isn’t a cave,” Birk muttered as he followed Michael out of the crevice.

  * * *

  “I got right!” Ledge exclaimed as their gunship came out of the jump.

  “I got left!” Ali followed.

  “And I’ve got the middle,” Aiden mumbled as his plasma torpedo targeting system locked onto the Dusahn octo-fighter directly ahead of them. He pressed his firing trigger, sending four balls of red-orange plasma towards the target ahead of him, but the fighter pitched up and disappeared in a blue-white flash of light. “Shit! The bastard jumped!”

  “That was quick,” Kenji said, his tone ominous.

  “They must have been expecting us,” Aiden realized as he pitched down to dive underneath the approaching cargo vessel.

  “Four jump flashes!” Sergeant Dagata reported. “Two to port, two to starboard!”

  The ship rocked as bolts of energy slammed into their shields, momentarily turning their protective barrier pale orange with each impact.

  “It’s an ambush!” Kenji exclaimed.

  “You got’em?” Aiden asked his gunners.

  “Oh, shit!” Ledge exclaimed as he swung his turret around and opened fire on the newly approaching targets.

  “I’ve got three coming in fast!” Ali yelled as she fired away in rapid succession.

  “Striker Four just jumped in behind us!” Sergeant Dagata added.

  “Shields down by fifty percent!” Chief Benetti warned.

  “Eight seconds!” Kenji announced.

  “Char!” Aiden called over comms. “It’s an ambush. Eight bandits! Repeat eight!”

  “Actually, it’s six now!” Ledge corrected.

  “Whatever!” Aiden replied.

  “Twelve seconds!” Kenji announced. “Time to go!”

  “No argument here,” Aiden agreed as more energy weapons fire lit up their shields and rocked the ship violently. “Jumping!”

  The gunship’s windows turned opaque, and the shaking stopped as the ship jumped away from the incoming fire.

  “Coming to port sixty, down twenty,” Aiden announced with a sigh of relief as he steered his ship onto its new course. “Got the next jump ready?”

  “Already locked in,” Kenji replied before Aiden finished asking.

  “Two jump flashes!” Sergeant Dagata warned. “One directly behind us, twenty clicks! The other ahead fifty and fifteen degrees above! I think they’re searching for us!”

  “If we see them, they see us,” Kenji warned.

  “How the hell did they track us?” Chief Benetti wondered.

  “They didn’t,” Aiden insisted. “They’re jumping random intercept patterns, trying to box us in. Dial it up two light minutes and recalc!”

  “I’m on it,” Kenji replied.

  “Target behind us has acquired,” Sergeant Dagata warned.

  “Launch a ghost drone!” Aiden ordered.

  “Ghost drone away!” Sergeant Dagata replied. “Flying straight and true. Target is firing!”

  Aiden twisted his flight control stick, putting the ship into a roll to port.

  “Jump loaded…” Kenji began to announce.

  Aiden wasn’t waiting and pressed the jump button again. His shields were already down by half their strength, and he needed them for another pass at the Dusahn fighters who were escorting the Hotchkess. Their windows turned opaque again as they jumped four light minutes forward. Aiden immediately rolled to starboard and dialed up a three-light-minute escape jump.

  “We’re supposed to be turning to port again, Aiden,” Kenji warned.

  “They’ll guess that,” Aiden insisted, tapping the escape jump button, instantly sending his gunship ahead three light minutes. “I’ll come about here instead.”

  “That’ll put us ten seconds behind sequence,” Kenji warned.

  “Fifteen-second gaps this time,” Aiden replied. “That leaves us a three-second window. I’ll jump out early to catch up.”

  “You, jump out early?”

  “Ha fucking ha,” Aiden exclaimed as he finished his one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. “You got the attack jump plotted, smart guy?”

  “Before you even started your turn,” Kenji replied.

  “That’s why I love you,” Aiden joked as he pressed the jump button. Their windows again turned opaque, but when they cleared the Hotchkess was nowhere to be found, nor were the Dusahn octo-fighters. Only a massive debris field remained. “What the hell?” Aiden wondered as pieces of debris bounced off their shields. “Where’d everybody go?”

  “The debris is from the Hotchkess!” Sergeant Dagata announced in shock.

  “Are you sure?” Aiden asked, also surprised. “Who the fuck took out the Hotchkess?”

  “Striker Leader to all Strikers,” Captain Nash called over comms. “The Hotchkess is gone. The Dusahn took it out themselves, once they realized they were outgunned. Escape and evade. Rendezvous at the outbound rally point. We’re done here.”

  “Holy shit,” Aiden exclaimed, still in disbelief. “How many people were on board that ship?” he asked his copilot.

  “Probably a dozen.”

  “Why the hell did they kill them?”

  “They didn’t want us to have the ship, I guess,” Kenji surmised.

  “Those are some cold fuckers,” Chief Benetti commented.

  “Escape and evade jump, plotted and locked in,” Kenji reported solemnly.

  “Damn,” Aiden said, shaking his head as he pressed the jump button.

  * * *

  Despite his growing contempt for the aging president and lifelong politician, Admiral Michael Galiardi gave both the man and his office its due—if for no other reason than to maintain appearances. No matter how careful one was to keep such meetings clandestine, eventually word got out, and when it did, he needed to at least appear to be following the rules. He had learned long ago that those who followed the rules strictly as written were doomed to a mediocre career at best. Rules had to be treated as guidelines, not as gospel, and he had done so with wild abandon at times. Especially as of late, which made it all the more important to keep up appearances. It mattered not what you did, rather what you could prove you had done.

  Therefore, Galiardi was careful to give smart salutes to all who greeted him, and patient respect for the security measures that protected the President of the North American Union and the leader of both the Earth and Sol Alliance.

  Admiral Galiardi smiled at the irony as he approached the outer office and President Scott’s secretary.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” the young man greeted. “The president is expecting you.”

  “Thank you,” the admiral replied as he moved past the man, toward the president’s office. The two men in black suits who flanked the doors reached over in unison, pulling them open for the admiral, allowing him to enter the president’s office without breaking his stride. President Scott never liked to keep anyone waiting, feeling it was a sign of disrespect. He was also not one to play the tricks of positioning or sitting slightly higher than his guests. It was one of the few things Admiral Galiardi actually liked about Dayton Scott, and it almost made him regret what he was about to do.

  Almost.

  “Admiral,” the president greeted, step
ping out from behind his desk to properly greet the man who had caused him such concern in the past few weeks. “May I offer you something?”

  “Thank you, no,” the admiral replied, moving quickly to one of the overstuffed chairs in the middle of the office.

  “As you wish,” the president replied, nodding to the gentlemen at the door.

  Admiral Galiardi waited for the doors to close, and for the president to take his seat before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, sound-suppression field generator, which he placed on the side table to his right and activated.

  President Scott watched the admiral, no surprise evident on his face.

  “We both know you record every conversation that takes place in this room,” the admiral stated plainly, “be it live or via comms.”

  “I take it you plan to get directly to the point of your visit,” President Scott replied, one eyebrow raised.

  “You know why I am here, Mister President,” the admiral began.

  “I believe I made my position quite clear, yesterday.”

  “How about we cut the crap, Dayton,” the admiral insisted. “I know that your son is alive and has been all along. I also know that he and his cohorts attacked the Cobra plant on Kohara, and made off with at least six gunships. I also know you or someone from your staff—for example, your daughter Miri—helped them.”

  “An interesting story,” the president replied. “I assume you have evidence to back up these accusations?”

  “I don’t need evidence. Some computer-enhanced video of your son running about during the attack on Kohara will be more than enough to provoke public outrage. Probably enough to bring down your presidency. And, as you are well aware, I would be well within my rights to declare martial law, and assume control of Earth, until such time as a new leader could be elected. And we all know how long that can take.”

  President Scott studied the admiral for a moment, taking measure of his words. “Allow me to share what I know to be true,” the president began after a pause. “I know the Jung ships which intruded into Alliance space in the Sol sector were not operated by the Jung. In fact, it is highly doubtful the Jung are even aware that such transgressions have occurred. I also know you are well aware that the incursions are more likely part of a false-flag operation by the Dusahn, in an attempt to keep us from interfering with their actions in the Pentaurus cluster, which, I should point out, is technically still our ally. An ally who came to our aid when we most desperately needed them.”

  “And I suppose you have proof of these accusations, as well?” the admiral wondered.

  “Probably about as much as you have. Sensor logs of the same Jung warships in both Sol space and Pentaurus space, only weeks apart. Not entirely convincing, I admit, but enough to create just as much public outrage, should the need arise.”

  Admiral Galiardi sighed. Not a sigh of resignation but one of sadness. “Of all the people of Earth, you have suffered more personal loss than most. Your world, your wife, your eldest son, your son-in-law, and now your youngest son has become an enemy of the state. You should want revenge more than any of us, Dayton.”

  “Revenge is not my right,” the president replied. “Not as the leader of my world. My responsibility is to the people. My family knows this…especially Nathan.”

  “Yet, he committed the one act that is sure to bring the full force of the Jung Empire down upon us,” Admiral Galiardi pointed out.

  “You say this about a young man who offered his life to save everyone else’s?”

  “And then put those very lives at risk for the sake of his own skin,” the admiral replied sharply. His posture changed from one of defiance to one of pleading, leaning forward slightly, as if trying to make a personal connection with the man opposing him. “Dayton, you and I both know the Earth will never be safe until the Jung are completely disarmed and at our mercy.”

  “You speak of the Earth, alone,” Dayton countered. “Perhaps you have forgotten what an alliance truly is.”

  “Stop dancing around the issue!” the admiral snapped. “The Jung, the Dusahn, all of them! They are a threat to all free men and women, be they from Earth, Tau Ceti, or any other world! They must be stopped, and stopped cold! All of them!”

  “There are other ways to prevent a war,” the president stated calmly.

  “Negotiate? You want to negotiate with the Jung? Hell, we’ve already fired the first shots!”

  “In response to what we, mistakenly, believed to be acts of aggression by the Jung Empire,” the president replied, taking great measure to remain calm despite the admiral’s increased volume and emotion. “If presented with the same evidence, that we discovered after the fact, they will surely see…”

  “They will see what they want to see,” the admiral insisted. “Just like all people. They will see an excuse to attack us with everything they’ve got. They are Jung. That is what they do. That is how they became an empire, for Christ’s sake! They will do whatever is necessary to achieve their goal.”

  “And what would their goal be?” President Scott asked, still remaining calm.

  “To rule everyone and everything,” the admiral replied, dialing his emotions down a notch. “And I, for one, do not intend to allow them to do so.” Admiral Galiardi leaned back in his chair, regaining his composure. “I have dedicated my life to the protection of my world. And, like our enemies, I too am willing to do whatever it takes to achieve our goals.”

  “And what do you perceive our goals to be?” the president wondered, his eyebrow again shooting up. It was the first sign of emotion the old politician had displayed since the admiral had activated his sound-suppression field generator.

  “The safety and security of the Earth and all her reasonable allies.”

  “Through the destruction of the Jung Empire,” the president surmised.

  “If need be, yes.”

  “And who decides if an ally is reasonable?” the president wondered.

  “We cannot protect everyone,” the admiral insisted with a wave of his hand. “We barely have enough resources to protect ourselves. And the Dusahn are but a handful of ships…a few dozen at most. The Jung number in the hundreds, with at least a dozen battle platforms included in those numbers, which, I should remind you, will be receiving marching orders any day now. If we do not take those platforms out now, while we can…”

  “I’ve heard this before, Admiral,” the president said, cutting him off.

  “Mister President…Dayton…” The admiral was again pleading.

  “What we have is a basic difference of opinion,” the president explained. “We both seek the same end result…peace and security. Our disagreement is only in how this end is obtained. Fortunately, I hold the office of President, not you. It is my finger on the button of the very weapons you command, Admiral. Let’s not forget that.”

  Admiral Galiardi leaned back in his chair again. “Are you sure about that, Mister President?” he asked, his right hand tapping the side of his sound-suppression field generator, as if to remind the president that nothing they had said had been recorded.

  This time, it was President Scott who sighed. “I have never liked being threatened, Admiral. Need I remind you that I, alone, have the power to remove you from your post, with only a single utterance?”

  “I believe you need a majority vote of the Alliance Council,” the admiral replied.

  “Only to confirm your removal,” the president corrected. “I can muzzle you for an indefinite period, while we debate the issue. However, I admit that we are better off with your experience and expertise at fleet command.”

  “And yet, you ignore my most fervent recommendations.”

  “And with good cause,” the president replied, “which you have now confirmed.”

  “I have always respected you, Day
ton,” Admiral Galiardi said as he rose from his seat. “It saddens me to know that we will now be staring down one another’s barrels,” he added before turning and heading out of the president’s office.

  President Scott sat unmoving, watching the admiral leave. As soon as the door closed, Miri entered his office from a side door.

  “A sound-suppression field?” she said, spotting the device as her father reached over and turned it off. “He brought a sound suppressor into the office of the President?”

  “Michael Galiardi fears no one,” the president said. “And apparently respects no one, as well.” He turned to look at his daughter. “I’m afraid things are about to become very dangerous.”

  “Dangerous for whom?” Miri wondered.

  “For all of us.”

  * * *

  “What have you got?” Nathan asked as he entered the Aurora’s intelligence office.

  “New message thru the molo front,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda replied.

  “And?”

  “He answered every question correctly,” Jessica said. “It’s him. The man going by the name Tensen Dalott is Suvan Navarro.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “As sure as I can be, without standing face-to-face with the guy,” Jessica assured him.

  “I thought this was a good thing,” the lieutenant commander commented.

  “It is,” Nathan agreed, “assuming he is Navarro.”

  “If he is Navarro, shouldn’t he have gone down with his ship?” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda wondered.

  “I spoke with Deliza,” Jessica said. “She said he regularly took trips with his wife outside of the Darvano system. Resorts, retreats, things like that. If he was away when the Dusahn attacked…”

  Nathan tried very hard not to smile. The idea of adding Captain Navarro’s skill and experience to their fleet, especially if it came along with a captured Takaran battleship, was exciting. But it was also quite dangerous. “What else did he say?”

 

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