Ep.#9 - Resistance (The Frontiers Saga)

by Ryk Brown

  “Five minutes to jump, no-jump,” Mister Riley reported.

  Nathan turned back to face the main view screen once more, his head shifting from side to side as he tried to keep up with the constantly changing events in each location. As he watched the carnage, he almost felt guilty for unleashing the Ghatazhak on the unsuspecting Jung forces. Many of the men that were dying were not combatants. They were technicians, operators, mechanics, and other technical personnel. He understood why the Ghatazhak were being so aggressive, but he couldn’t help thinking his tactical officer was correct: it was a slaughter.

  * * *

  Alert sirens blared as the light of dawn began to glow behind the distant mountains. Spotlights in the guard towers swept the grounds beyond the fence line surrounding the Jung propellant processing plant on the surface of Tanna. More powerful searchlights on the ground followed preprogrammed patterns as they traversed the sky above.

  One of the tower guards followed the circle of light cast by his tower-mounted spotlight as he tracked it back and forth, watching intently for any sign of intruders. No one had told him what was going on as of yet, only that the plant was on alert. The guard’s head suddenly exploded, spraying blood in all directions as his body crumpled and fell to the floor, his spotlight coming to a stop.

  The guard in the next tower noticed that the other tower’s spotlight had stopped moving. He swung his light over and added it to the other tower’s light, assuming the guard in the other tower had spotted something on the ground. When he saw nothing, he moved his spotlight up the tower and saw no guard. He grabbed his portable radio and was about to report it when his head jerked to the right and exploded, sending a spray of blood, bone, and cerebral matter across the counter next to him.

  As the second guard’s body fell over the railing and down to the ground, a Ghatazhak warrior descended gracefully to the ground, his sniper rifle in hand. Just before he landed, he fired two more rounds with his silent weapon, placing small, explosive pellets into the heads of guards rushing toward him.

  More guards rushed out of the buildings, each also dropping to the ground as their heads exploded in showery, red mists. In less than a minute, the ten descending Ghatazhak warriors had killed over forty men. They had only fired forty shots.

  Fully inflated, black parachutes inverted and fell to the ground as their payloads touched the ground and automatically released the connections to their canopies. The early morning breeze swept the black fabric across the compound, leaving them to snag on various poles and structures along the way or to finally rest against the far fence line.

  As each man hit the ground, he ran forward, finding the nearest entrance to carry their assault inward. Around them were thousands of gallons of various gases, each of them highly combustible and highly valued by the Alliance.

  The Ghatazhak were sure and swift, running through the complex and terminating every living being they encountered: men in control rooms, maintenance spaces, production spaces, even in the bathroom. They were all executed in the same manner: one shot, one kill.

  Four minutes after they had fired their first shot, the leader of Ghatazhak Team Five received his last report of ‘secure.’ He switched frequencies and placed his call. “Aurora Combat, Five leader. Target secured.”

  * * *

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Cameron admitted. She watched the feeds from the fifth Ghatazhak team as they secured the propellant plant.

  “Neither have I,” Master Chief Montrose admitted.

  “I have,” Major Waddell said.

  Cameron looked at Waddell. He looked unsettled, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly. She wondered what was going through his mind at the moment. Was he reliving his own combat experiences against the Ghatazhak?

  “Major?” she asked.

  The major turned his head toward her, his eyes wide with fear. She looked at him, noticing that he seemed unfocused, as if he were not seeing what was in front of him. “Are you all right?” she said under her breath so the others in the compartment would not hear.

  Major Waddell looked directly at Cameron, his eyes finally focusing on hers. “Yes… yes,” he answered, regaining his composure. “I’ll be fine.”

  Cameron nodded sympathetically at the major, then turned to one of the communications technicians along the side of the combat information center. “Notify the bridge.”

  “Sir,” Naralena called. “Combat reports all five teams have reported in. All primary targets are secured.”

  “Time to jump, no-jump?”

  Mister Riley looked at his console, then rotated slightly to his right to look over his shoulder at the captain. “One minute,” he reported, a smile on his face.

  “What about the Jung fighters that got airborne?” Nathan asked his tactical officer.

  “Flight ops reports the last two are being chased down now. We own the skies of Tanna, sir.”

  “Her moons, too,” Mister Riley added.

  “We still have to deal with their ground forces,” Nathan reminded them.

  “Contacts!” Mister Navashee reported. “Inbound missiles coming up from the surface. Transferring tracks to tactical.”

  “Kill the helmet cameras for now,” Nathan ordered. “What have we got, Mister Randeen?”

  “Twelve contacts, sir. They appear to be surface to orbit missiles—relatively slow-moving, conventional warheads. We shouldn’t have any problem shooting them down, sir. Flight is already vectoring fighters to intercept. The rest I’ll handle with point defenses.”

  Nathan looked confused. “Are they Jung weapons?”

  “Doubtful, sir,” Mister Randeen said. “They don’t match any of the technology we’ve seen in any of our engagements with the Jung thus far.”

  “They may be Tannan weapons,” Mister Navashee suggested. “I’m scanning them now. There are a lot of similarities in their electronics with the stuff I’ve been detecting on the surface.”

  “Such as?” Nathan asked.

  “Cars, small, general aviation aircraft, communications gear. These missiles look like they use many of the same components.”

  “Maybe they’re leftovers,” Mister Randeen added. “Maybe they were seized by the Jung when they conquered this world. They are conventional warheads, sir. Nearly all of the Jung weapons we have seen thus far have carried nuclear warheads, even the ship-busters carried by the Jung fighters.”

  “Maybe they’re getting desperate,” Nathan hoped.

  * * *

  Garrett looked out the window at the distant Jung command center located in the heart of one of Tanna’s largest cities. The command center had been a flurry of activity ever since the Aurora had first jumped into high orbit over the planet.

  To the south, he could see twelve missile trails reaching up toward the sky. At the top of each trail were bright yellow tails of thrust coming from the missiles. He could also see several of the Aurora’s fighters as they swooped around and began to climb in pursuit of the weapons. Four more fighters swept across the buildings directly in front of him before they, too, joined in the chase.

  “Sir!” one of Garrett’s subordinates called as he approached.

  “What is it?”

  “All teams have reported in. The evacuation has been completed. The perimeter is clear up to one kilometer from the Jung command center.”

  “Good work,” Garrett congratulated. “Have our teams painted the targets?”

  “Yes, sir. Each target has at least two laser designators trained on it.”

  “Then we are ready.” Garrett smiled.

  “I did not think it possible,” the man exclaimed, excited by the morning’s events.

  “Neither did I,” Garrett admitted. “It just shows you that one must never stop believing.” He turned to anothe
r of his men, one carrying a large device over his shoulder. “Contact the Aurora. Tell them we are ready.”

  * * *

  “We’ve got the laser designators!” one of the weapons technicians reported.

  Cameron turned from the plotting table in the middle of the Aurora’s combat information center. “Deploy the quads, underside positions, and lock onto those laser designators as soon as the guns are ready.”

  “Combat reports quads are deployed and locked on targets, sir.”

  “All four of them?”

  “Command center, main deep-space comm-array, and both missile bases, all painted with multiple designators.”

  “I guess Garrett’s not taking any chances,” Nathan mumbled. He turned to Naralena at the comm station at the rear of the bridge. “Hail the Jung command center. Send the following message: ‘The 72 Herculis system and all worlds within it are now under the control of the Alliance. Surrender all forces and you will be treated fairly and with respect. Refuse and hostilities shall continue.’ End message.”

  “Sending message,” Naralena answered. She typed in the message, then looked up at Nathan. “Message sent.” She smiled at him. “Felt good, huh?”

  “It did, actually,” he said, smiling back.

  “Receiving reply,” Naralena announced, looking back down at her console. “Message reads, ‘The Jung do not surrender.’” She looked back up at the captain. “End of message.”

  Nathan sighed. “Comms, tell flight ops to launch the tactical shuttles and deploy the remaining Ghatazhak to the surface targets as planned.”

  “Aye, sir,” Naralena answered.

  “Mister Randeen, fire all quads,” Nathan ordered.

  “Firing quads, aye.”

  The four massive, quad-barreled rail guns hanging off the underside of the Aurora adjusted slightly, tracking the tiny dots of laser light with their optical targeting sensors to account for the movement of the ship as it orbited the planet below. After a series of tiny adjustments, they began to fire. Flashes of blue, electrical energy lit up the rails of each weapon, as each barrel sent fifty rounds per second of carefully aimed, meter-wide slugs streaming toward the targets below at incredible velocities. The slugs heated up as they plowed through the atmosphere, leaving trails of super-heated plasma behind them as they streaked toward the surface.

  * * *

  Garret stood at the window, which had already been blown out by the shock wave of the attack. His hands covered his ears against the deafening roar as the rail gun barrage continued. His eyes squinted against the waves of wind generated by the onslaught. Others about him cowered against the walls, fearing for their safety despite the fact that they were more than a kilometer away from the nearest target.

  The rain of fire from the sky suddenly stopped, and the thunderous roar began to subside. Garrett slowly lowered his hands from his ears, sensing that the attack was over. He watched in awe as the dust cloud began to settle, most of it being swept southward by the morning winds of Tanna. The faint morning light began to cut through the dust, revealing… nothing: no buildings, no light posts, no fences, not even piles of broken buildings. Just a massive pile of rubble, most of which was no bigger than a man’s head.

  Never in his life had Garrett seen such a thing. The Jung had leveled entire cities when they had come decades ago, but that had been with massive nuclear weapons. No one had survived to bear witness to those attacks. He surveyed the surrounding buildings. Many were damaged by flying debris, but most were still standing and in relatively good condition. Never had he seen such precisely placed weapons fire.

  He turned and looked at his subordinate, whose eyes were as wide as his own. “I am now quite certain that we have chosen the right ally.”

  * * *

  “Contact,” Mister Riley reported.

  “Thrusting inward,” Mister Chiles answered from the helm.

  “We have hard dock, Captain,” Mister Riley confirmed.

  “Refueling boom is being extended,” Mister Navashee announced.

  “How the hell did they figure out how to work everything over there?” Nathan said. “I mean, everything must be labeled in Jung, right? I know they’re supposed to be geniuses and all, but they couldn’t have figured out how to read Jung in less than an hour, right?”

  “It is my understanding that the Ghatazhak chose to take a few prisoners,” Cameron said. “Apparently, they are being quite cooperative.”

  “We have a good seal,” Vladimir announced from one of the auxiliary consoles. “We’re ready to begin refueling,” he added with a smile.

  “What are you waiting for?” Nathan wondered.

  “Starting the refueling process,” Vladimir said.

  “So, we can use Jung propellants then?” Nathan asked. “You checked this stuff, right?”

  “Of course,” Vladimir answered. “It is not as good as what we normally use, but the designers of our propulsion systems were smart enough to allow some flexibility in propellants. The engine performance might not be as good as with our standard propellant formulas, but considering the alternative…”

  “I get your point,” Nathan said, turning to Cameron. “Any word from Major Waddell?”

  “His troops are on the surface and are assisting the Ghatazhak and the Tanna resistance as they subdue the remaining Jung ground forces. They have already assembled and launched two of their four Kalibri airships. He expects they will have captured enough Jung assets to completely turn the tide in favor of the resistance by the end of the planetary day.”

  “Excellent.” Nathan turned back to Vladimir. “How long will the refueling take us?”

  “Nearly eighteen hours,” Vladimir answered. “Then I will need to conduct a few test burns with the new propellant in order to retune the acceleration tunnels on the main engines and the maneuvering systems as well.”

  “So how long until we can get under way again?”

  “Twenty-four hours at least.”

  “Commander, let the major know he has twenty-four hours before we start recalling our people from the surface. I want everyone on board and ready to depart by the time Vlad has our engines humming.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cameron answered, stepping to one side as Nathan left the bridge for his ready room. She looked at Vladimir, a smile on her face for the first time in days.

  “He knows nothing about our engines,” Vladimir said with disdain. “They do not hum.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nathan nodded at the guard as he pressed the buzzer on the wall outside Mister Dubnyk’s quarters. Shortly after, the door opened.

  “Captain,” Mister Dubnyk said. “What a pleasant surprise.” He stepped aside to clear the way. “Please, come in.”

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you, Mister Dubnyk.”

  “Not at all, Captain. Not at all. I don’t get many visitors, as you might imagine. Actually, I don’t get any visitors.”

  “How have you been?” Nathan asked, being polite.

  “Well enough, I suppose.”

  “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

  “Between the ship’s video entertainment database and your personal history books, I’ve managed to keep my mind occupied. Thank you for those books, by the way.”

  “You’re quite welcome.”

  “So, Captain, surely you didn’t come here just to see how I am. A busy man such as yourself, what with a war to fight and all…”

  “You’re right. I did not.”

  “Then what can I do for you, sir?” Dubnyk asked, trying to be gracious.

  “As you might already know, we have recently liberated a world from Jung rule. It’s called Tanna, and it’s in the 72 Herculis system.”

  “I was aware that some sort of combat action had taken place,” Mi
ster Dubnyk said. “However, I was not aware of the outcome, other than the fact that we obviously survived. Were there many losses?”

  “Twelve men were lost,” Nathan stated.

  “I am sorry to hear that. This world, Tanna, I have heard of it. In my day it was a new colony—somewhat industrialized, yet still dependent on support from the core worlds to survive. I expect they had a hard time of it after the plague struck.”

  “I do not know of their history. In fact, I have only met one person from their world.”

  “How is this world doing now?” Mister Dubnyk asked.

  “It’s fully industrialized,” Nathan said. “Its population was significantly reduced when the Jung conquered their world a few decades ago.”

  “If memory serves, 72 Herculis is pretty far out on the fringe. It seems an odd target, does it not?”

  “We suspect that the Jung were planning on using it as a stepping stone for expansion beyond the fringe. There were significant fuel-processing and storage facilities on the surface.”

  “Are you not concerned that the Jung will return?”

  “It has crossed my mind. From what the people of Tanna tell us, Jung ships come through only once or twice per Tannan year.”

  “How do they plan on protecting themselves should one of those ships dislike their rebellious acts?”

  “At this point, they have no defense,” Nathan admitted. “Whether or not they will need it depends on the captain of the ship that discovers that the Jung no longer hold Tanna. We know little about the Jung, however, the people of Tanna believe that the Jung would be likely to administer some sort of punishment. At the very least, I would imagine they would take possession of Tanna again.”

  “At the very least, indeed.” Mister Dubnyk leaned back in his chair, a pensive look on his face. “Why are you telling me all this, Captain?”