by Ryk Brown
“I suppose we shall see,” the commander replied. “I know one thing, I would not want to live knowing that I killed my fellow Ghatazhak, while acting as the agent of a group of treasonous old fools.”
“Do not take this the wrong way, my friend, but I am more concerned with the Crippin and the Astaire.”
“May I offer some words of advice?”
“Need you ask permission?” Captain Navarro replied.
“Show no mercy, Captain. Let them fire the first shot, but make sure you fire the last. Fire everything you have when a target presents itself, as it will do so but a few times at best. They will test you, for they want to take you intact to ensure their own supremacy within the sector. Do not fool yourself… this war will be won or lost on the surface of Takara, not in space.”
Captain Navarro took in a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh that spoke clearly of the pressure he felt in that moment.
“I trust you have secured your family?” Commander Erbe inquired.
“Two days ago, when the opposition first contacted me,” the captain replied. “They are in hiding on Corinair.”
“That explains the attack on the array,” the commander realized. “You demonstrated your intent when you whisked your loved ones to safety.”
“They knew my intent before they contacted me,” Captain Navarro insisted. “The gesture was nothing more than a formality.”
* * *
The vehicle came to a stop again. Jessica waited, expecting to once again have to brace herself as the delivery truck in which they hid began rolling forward again, just as it had done countless times over the last thirty minutes as they wound their way through Kohara’s capital city. She had been sitting in the cramped space, surrounded by five men, only one of which she knew by name, for going on two hours. It was dark, lit only by the indicator lights of the equipment that shielded them from detection by the Jung scanners located throughout the city. It was also poorly ventilated, a fact about which Gerard had neglected to warn her.
This time, however, the vehicle did not move again. Instead, there was a knock on the forward wall. A series of taps, patterns tapped out in pauses of variable lengths.
“We have arrived,” Gerard whispered in the darkness. “They are asking how to know when it is time to act.”
“Trust me, they’ll know,” Jessica insisted.
“Something a little more exact might help.”
“Tell them that when they see bright blue-white flashes of light all around the city, and things start exploding… that will be their cue.”
“Good enough.” Gerard began tapping out a response.
“Got the time?” she said, nudging the guy next to her. The man looked at her, confused. She looked at Gerard.
“Twenty-one twelve,” he told her as he continued to tap out instructions to the guys in front.
Jessica sat patiently. A minute later, Gerard finished delivering the instructions. “By your calculations, the attack should come within the hour.”
Jessica leaned forward in order to keep her voice low. “So, just how much is the public buying into the whole ‘the Earth is still infected’ thing?”
“The Jung are very good at propaganda. They have been using it since they arrived decades ago. Like anything, some people believe it, some don’t. Most of the so-called ‘street polls’ I’ve seen would indicate that most people do believe it, and they support the Jung’s efforts to quarantine Earth. Then again, those polls are conducted by a Jung-controlled media, so…”
“Right.”
“The blue-white flashes you spoke of,” Gerard said, “then it’s true what the Jung say about the people of Earth having invented a way to circumvent the quarantine?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t invented to circumvent a quarantine. It was developed to give us an edge, a way to defend ourselves against the Jung.”
“How does it work?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Jessica answered. “All I know is that the Aurora can get anywhere within fifteen light years in the blink of an eye.”
“Incredible,” Gerard whispered. “It took me nearly three years to get here.”
“We made it back from the Pentaurus cluster in about a month, and that’s over nine hundred light years away. Now we’ve even got comm-drones making that run in a matter of hours. Shuttles in a few days.”
“And you have two warships with this capability?”
“Two Explorer-class and three Scout-class,” Jessica explained. “Not to mention a few dozen interceptors, shuttles, gunships, and so on. Oh, and our friends in the Pentaurus cluster even jumped an asteroid base all the way back to Sol.”
Gerard shook his head. “So much has changed since I left. I doubt I would even recognize Earth again.”
“You know, I’ve always wondered something,” Jessica said. “After all these years here, how do you keep going? Why don’t you just fade into Cetian society and live out your life?”
“Like Ellyus Barton?”
“Not exactly, but you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know, really,” Gerard admitted. “I suppose it is what drives me… my mission, that is. I have a wife and children. They know who I am and what I do. I have friends, all of which are part of my world, my mission. In fact, it was because of my wife that the Cetian Liberation Army came to exist. She got tired of hearing her friends complain about the Jung and told them they should do something. She told me they wanted to start a movement. That’s when I told her who I really was.”
“That was a hell of a risk.”
“Perhaps,” Gerard admitted, “but had I not taken it, you would be in a Jung interrogation facility right now.”
“More likely I’d be dead,” Jessica insisted. “There’s no way I can let myself be interrogated.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have any Jung nanites in you,” Gerard reminded her. “Otherwise, they would already know everything you have seen and heard.”
Jessica leaned back against the inner wall of the truck. “That a fucking scary thought.”
* * *
“I have not heard from my contact on Ybara,” Major Bellen admitted. “I suspect that he is either detained, or… otherwise unable to send word. Very little is known about that world these days. It is believed that the Ybarans wish nothing to do with Takaran society. I have even heard rumors that they intend to abandon their world and move elsewhere… perhaps even out of the cluster altogether.”
“One could not blame them,” Casimir said as he moved across the room and around his desk. “The Ybarans have been marginalized by the nobles for centuries, then enslaved by my brother and made to commit countless atrocities in his name. I am surprised they have not turned on us long ago.”
“They still might, if given proper motivation.”
“Are you suggesting that we attempt to enlist those animals?” Casimir asked, surprised by the Major’s suggestion.
“I doubt they would even speak with anyone from the house that still carries Caius’s name. I am more concerned with the Crippin and the Astaire. If those ships are able to join the fight, and their captains side against us, they could very well turn the tide.”
“Their jump drives are not yet operational,” Casimir insisted.
“Are you certain of this?”
“As certain as possible.”
“Even without jump drives, heavy cruisers are formidable weapons. As Captain Navarro said, in a local engagement, short FTL hops are nearly as effective as those executed using a jump drive. The effect is the same. One moment you are here, the next you are there.”
“The key word is nearly,” Casimir insisted.
“A very fine line on which to hold the future of Takara, my lord,” the major pointed out. “If those ships do join the fight, it might be best if the Avendahl destroys them in short order.”
“I was hoping to send those ships to Sol to serve the Alliance,” Casimir explained.
“Which you will not be able to d
o if you are no longer in power… or worse.”
“Rest assured, Major, that I have already made such recommendations to Captain Navarro.”
“Have you considered sending the Ghatazhak to seize both ships while they are still in port?”
“Doing so would force the opposition to take immediate action,” Casimir argued.
“Without the Crippin or the Astaire.”
“Seizing the property of another house is a direct violation of the Charter of Torrence.”
“And destroying them is not?”
“Not if they fire first,” Casimir insisted. “If we are to protect Takara from herself, we must do so by rule of law, not by force or intimidation, no matter how righteous we believe ourselves to be. As long as we remain true to the Charter of Torrence, we cannot be charged in any court, and my claim to power remains legal.”
“Laws are written by the victorious, my lord, not the righteous. Failure to do what is necessary, no matter how distasteful that action might be, may very well lead to your undoing, and that of Takara.”
Casimir sighed as he finally took his seat. He looked up at Major Bellen. “I fought for decades to overthrow my brother and destroy the illegal empire he had created. I was forced to do the same distasteful things of which you speak, many of which still haunt me to this day. Once I looked into the eyes of my firstborn, I knew I could never be that man again. That is why I gave power back to Parliament so quickly… to atone for the atrocities that I had committed.”
“I understand, my lord,” Major Bellen said, “but if you are unwilling to do what is needed, your house will fall, and the opposition will reinstate the empire using the jump drive technology that you gave them.”
“Which is why I instructed Captain Navarro to destroy those very ships should they display ill intent.”
Major Bellen hung his head, attempting unsuccessfully to hide his frustration. “My lord, you are making my job extremely difficult.”
“I would gladly trade places with you, Major,” Casimir replied.
“At least send Deliza and young Mister Hiller to safety, along with the Earth’s data cores.”
“I have tried,” Casimir explained. “She refuses to go.”
“You gave her a choice?”
“She gave me none.”
“She is a child, my lord. Say the word, and my men shall forcibly take her to the Avendahl.”
“If and when this house is about to fall.”
“And you will leave as well, should this come to be?”
“I ran before,” Casimir said. “I hid for years before I finally took action. I shall not run again.”
“My lord,” the major objected.
“We shall not speak of this further,” Casimir insisted, raising his hand. “On to other matters. Have you secured the data cores?”
“The original cores from Earth are on their way to the Avendahl as we speak.”
“And the copies?”
“Rigged for destruction, as requested.” Major Bellen handed a small device to Casimir. “Attach this to your chest. If your heart stops, the detonators will be triggered.”
“This is the same device that Caius used to guarantee the loyalty of the nobles, is it not?”
“Similar in design, yes. Eternal youth is a strong motivator, to be sure.”
“He may have been a twisted megalomaniac, but my brother was not stupid.”
“No, he was not.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Admiral Dumar entered the fleet combat control center in the Karuzara asteroid. The room had only been completed a week ago, and this would be its first official use. The room resembled the bridge of a Takaran frigate, with controllers around the perimeter, and a large holographic plotting table at the center. The ring of controllers was a bit lower than the deck behind it, which in turn was a bit lower than the central platform that contained the plotting table and the cluster of view screens and projectors above it. While the controllers worked their stations along the outer perimeter, supervisors paced behind them, each monitoring three or four controllers, and in turn reporting to the command officers on the central platform… in this case, Admiral Dumar.
“Admiral,” Commander Bryant greeted from the central plotting table.
“Commander,” the Admiral replied. “I trust all is ready?”
“All ships are in position outside the Tau Ceti system. KKVs are also in position and ready for launch. Porto Santo reports all jump ships are loaded and spun up on the tarmac, ready for departure.”
“And our new communications system is working properly?”
“Average lag of twelve seconds, Admiral.”
“A lifetime during battle,” the admiral commented.
“It’s the best we could do with the number of jump comm-drones at our disposal, sir.”
“I suppose I should not be complaining about a twelve second comm-lag over a distance of nearly twelve light years,” Dumar added. He looked down at the plotting table, counting the icons of various types. “I still wish we had more men to put on the surface.”
“We could always use more men, Admiral,” Commander Bryant agreed.
Dumar looked up at the clock on the wall. “We go on schedule,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Mister Bryant replied, holding up his hand to signal his communications officer, who was listening to the conversation from only a meter away.
Commander Telles stood in the control room at Porto Santo space port, staring at the view screen showing the tarmac outside. Rows of combat jumpers, cargo jumpers, Falcons, and boxcars sat on the ground, their engines idling.
“Message from fleet command,” the communications officer reported. “Operation to commence on schedule.”
Telles looked up at the time display over the view screen.
“Two minutes,” Master Sergeant Jahal said as he stepped up next to his commander.
“We have seen much action together, Master Sergeant,” Commander Telles said.
“Indeed we have, sir.”
“I believe we have performed our duties admirably.”
“I would agree.” The master sergeant looked at the commander. “Is there a point, sir?”
“In all the time we have been together, have you known me to be wrong about anything?”
“Not once, commander.”
“Then you can understand my concern when I say that I am convinced that we are about to jump into the very fires of hell.”
“The hotter the better, sir,” the master sergeant replied.
Commander Telles turned and looked at his master sergeant, one eyebrow raised, as he tried unsuccessfully to hold back a laugh. “The hotter the better? Seriously?”
“I’m sorry, were you trying to scare me, sir?”
“Not at all, Master Sergeant. Just stating my opinion.”
“Better a dead hero,” the master sergeant pronounced.
“…than a cowardly survivor,” the commander finished.
“No one lives forever, sir. Especially a Ghatazhak.”
“Commander?” the communications officer called.
Telles glanced up at the clock again. “Stand by to launch the first wave.”
“One minute to launch,” Ensign Wells announced.
Sergeant Poteet sat at his station in Scout Three’s control compartment, monitoring the KKV status displays. “Hey, Keesh,” he said to the sergeant next to him, “you ever wonder what happens if one of these things goes off course and hits something it’s not supposed to?”
“Like what?”
“Like a planet, obviously.”
“I don’t know,” Sergeant Ravi replied. “Not good for the planet, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but, would it destroy the planet, or just fuck it up real bad?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Shit, Tweety, why are you always asking these kinds of questions at moments like this, huh?”
“When am I supposed to
ask such questions?”
“Don’t you think someone in command thinks about such things?”
“Thirty seconds!” Ensign Wells exclaimed, attempting to drown out the two sergeants.
“Nothing is going to hit a planet,” Captain Nash insisted over the comm-sets. “The targets are all several thousand kilometers from any of the planets, so relax.”
“Ten seconds,” Ensign Wells announced.
“All KKVs are powering up their main propulsion,” Sergeant Poteet reported.
“KKV internal navigation systems are locked on target points,” Sergeant Ravi added.
“Five seconds,” Ensign Wells continued. “Three……two……one……launch.”
“Launching KKVs,” Sergeant Poteet replied.
Outside Scout Three, not more than a few hundred kilometers away, four converted Takaran comm-drones fired their main engines and began to accelerate rapidly. Seconds later, the four KKVs were nothing more than four glowing, yellow balls, and seconds after that, they had vanished.
“KKVs have reached transition velocity,” Sergeant Ravi reported. “Going FTL in three……two……one…… KKVs have gone to FTL, sir. Estimate target impact in thirty seconds.”
“Stand by for combat jump one,” Captain Nash said.
“Jump one, plotted and ready,” Commander Eckert replied, as the two sergeants continued to debate the implications of an accidental KKV strike on a planet. The commander turned toward the captain to his left. “Are they always like this?”
“They’re a couple of twenty-something sergeants who have to push buttons to kill tens of thousands of men from a light year away. It’s how they deal with it, Skeech.”
“I suppose you’re right, sir,” the commander admitted. “Ten seconds to jump one.”
“The ship is at general quarters,” Ensign Souza reported from the Aurora’s comm station.
“Weapons are charged and ready,” Luis reported from the tactical station.
“Thirty seconds to first jump,” Ensign Riley reported.
“Fifteen seconds to KKV strike,” Luis added.