by Ryk Brown
Commander Erbe took advantage of the second man’s dazed state, drawing his knife and inserting it forcefully between the bottom edge of the Ybaran’s helmet and the top of his chest armor, piercing his trachea.
Casimir fired two shots into the unprotected groin area of the first Ybaran, walking three more shots up his torso until a fourth shot found the underside of the soldier’s chin.
Commander Erbe turned and saw Jumper Two Eight as it rotated left and climbed, her door gunner firing at the enemy shuttle hovering above them.
Casimir also saw the shuttle trying to draw the enemy shuttle away from the rooftop by forcing them to break away to avoid fire. “NO!” he yelled. “Get Deliza out of here!” he ordered Commander Erbe as he took aim at the third group of Ybarans descending from the shuttle above them.
Casimir felt a sudden burning sensation in his left side, followed by a wave of excruciating pain, but he ignored it, continuing to fire at the Ybarans rushing toward them. His only concern was for the well-being of his only surviving child.
“Two Eight!” Commander Erbe called over his helmet comms. “Jump out now! That’s an order!”
“Two Eight, jumping!”
Casimir and Erbe continued firing as they moved toward the doorway. Two more Ybarans fell to their fire, as another Ghatazhak soldier succumbed to enemy fire.
Casimir paused at the doorway, refusing to enter and continuing to fire, until the blue-white flash of Jumper Two Eight told him that his daughter was safely away.
“Overload on shield generator fourteen,” the defensive systems officer reported. “Switching to backups.”
“The Crippin has partial power restored,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported. “She’s under way again.”
“Her shields and weapons?” Commander Golan asked.
“She’s only running her forward shield array at the moment, sir, but it’s at seventy-four percent. She’s got rail guns and missile launchers, but no plasma cannons as of yet.”
“Maneuverability?” Captain Navarro asked.
“As best I can tell, severely limited,” the lieutenant replied. “She’s not jumping anytime soon, and she’s barely making two thousand right now.”
“Shuttle Two Eight has just jumped in,” the flight control officer reported.
“They have Casimir?” the captain inquired.
“No, sir,” the flight control officer replied. “They only have Deliza and Mister Hiller. Copilot reports the pickup became too hot, and they were ordered to jump away by Commander Erbe.”
“Missile launch!” Lieutenant Cahnis reported. “Twelve more inbound. Impact in one minute.”
“Yoo is not going to give up easily,” Commander Golan commented.
“Yes, especially with the Crippin managing to get back into action,” the captain replied.
“Course change,” the sensor officer reported. “The Astaire is turning to port and pitching down, Captain. I believe they are moving to protect the Crippin.”
Captain Navarro thought for a moment. “They expect to win this engagement.”
“How is that possible?” Commander Golan wondered. “Perhaps if both the Astaire and the Crippin were at full strength, they might stand a remote chance, but…”
“They do not have to defeat us to win,” Captain Navarro explained. “We are not the prize they seek. He is still on the surface. They are trying to protect their two greatest assets, as they will need them to hold power should they win on the surface.”
“Firing point-defenses,” Lieutenant Rogal reported.
Captain Navarro turned to his communications officer. “Get me Commander Erbe.”
“Four missiles down,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported. “Crippin is now targeting us as well.”
“From that distance?” the XO exclaimed.
“He’s just trying to put on a good show,” Captain Navarro said. “Prove that he’s still in the fight.”
“Commander Erbe for you, Captain,” the communications officer announced.
“Erbe, Navarro. Status?”
“We’ve been overrun, Captain!” Commander Erbe reported over the comms. His transmission was full of static, and the sound of constant and heavy weapons fire could be heard in the background. “I’ve lost more than seventy percent of my forces! We’re outnumbered twenty to one at this point!”
“I can send down more men,” the captain replied, “more fighters…”
“Navarro!” Casimir called over the comms. “Is Deliza on board?”
Captain Navarro looked at his flight control officer, who nodded in the affirmative. “Yes, they just landed.”
“Get her to safety!” Casimir ordered.
“My lord, let us send…”
“Negative!” Casimir interrupted. “House Ta’Akar has fallen! Get my daughter to safety, Captain! Get her and the data cores to Earth!”
“Casimir,” the captain argued. “If we depart the cluster, who will protect the other members of the Alliance? Who will protect Darvano and Savoy? If the nobles…”
“Protect Darvano and Savoy, if you must,” Casimir agreed, “but ensure the safety of my daughter and those cores first! Promise me this, Suvan! I beg of you!”
Captain Navarro steadied himself, taking a deep breath. “I promise.” The captain closed his eyes for several moments, summoning all his strength as he listened to the sounds of the raging battle over the comms. “It was a privilege to serve you, my lord.” Captain Navarro signaled his comm officer to end the connection.
Commander Golan looked at his captain. “Sir, we could still target the Ybarans from orbit…”
“And possibly kill thousands of innocent Takarans?” the captain asked. “And risk escalating this even further?” The captain shook his head. “No, we must think of the future of Takara.”
“Casimir is the future of Takara,” the commander replied.
“He was the future of Takara,” Captain Navarro corrected. “Now that responsibility has fallen upon us. Us and his only heir.” Captain Navarro pulled at his tunic to straighten it as he turned forward again. “Helm, set course for the Crippin and prepare to jump us to minimum safe attack range.”
“Setting course for the Crippin and preparing to jump,” the helm officer acknowledged. “Minimum safe attack range. Position relative to target?”
“Port side, aft of her midship line,” the captain replied. “Lieutenant Rogal, prepare to fire all weapons at the Crippin as we come out of the jump. I want that ship destroyed in a single pass.”
“Aye, sir.”
“What about the Astaire?” Commander Golan asked.
“Two heavy cruisers gives them an advantage,” the captain replied. “One puts the advantage with us. We shall depart the system only after we have secured that advantage, thus guaranteeing, at least for a time, that the new leaders of Takara will be unable to reestablish their dominance outside of their own system.”
“And what of the Alliance?” Commander Golan wondered. “Were we not to come to their aid, as well?”
“I’m afraid that the Alliance forces in Sol will have to make do without us, for the foreseeable future.”
Casimir lay on his back, his vision blurred by overwhelming pain and despair. His side felt as if it were on fire. He could not feel his left leg, and he was quite sure that his right arm was gone, severed somewhere below his elbow.
The weapons fire had all but died, with only the muffled sounds of the firefight still raging outside his home.
His home. House Ta’Akar. Built over five hundred years ago, when his people’s ships had arrived from their four-hundred year journey from Sorenson in the Tau Ceti system. His home. The home of his father, and his father before him, and his father before. The home where he and his brother had been born and raised. The home he had fought for decades to regain. The home he had hoped to fill with the laughter of grandchildren.
He felt a hand on his right shoulder, and a gasping of air.
“My lord,” Commander Erbe barely ma
naged to mumble. “A weapon, my lord,” he pleaded.
The sudden screeching sound of an energy weapon being discharged in the immediate vicinity made Casimir flinch. “Commander?” he mumbled, barely able to speak.
A voice. “Your commander is dead,” the man said. His voice was rough, his pronunciation poor and dirty. He was Ybaran.
Casimir felt someone pulling at his hair, lifting his head from the floor.
“Look at me, Casimir,” the Ybaran demanded in seething tones. “Look at me, Prince of Takara, brother of Caius, the enslaver of my people.”
“Why?” Casimir had to ask. “Why do you serve them?”
“The Ybarans serve no one,” the man said. “Least of all your arrogant aristocracy. We Ybarans fight this day for one reason, and one reason alone. To kill the brother of the one who enslaved us.”
Casimir felt the searing hot barrel of a recently discharged energy pistol burning the skin of his forehead.
“This is for all the atrocities committed upon my people by the Ta’Akar.”
Casimir did not hear the screech of the weapon discharge that ended his life.
Thank you for reading this story.
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COMING SOON
“THE WEAK AND THE INNOCENT”
Episode 14
of
The Frontiers Saga
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