Ep.#6 - Head of the Dragon (The Frontiers Saga)

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Ep.#6 - Head of the Dragon (The Frontiers Saga) Page 7

by Brown, Ryk


  “Nothing yet. There’s a rumor that the Aitkenna bunker survived the strike but is buried under the debris. A team is on their way there now to see if they can determine if anyone is still alive down there.”

  Nathan looked at the major, knowing full well how he felt. Having that much responsibility suddenly thrust upon you was not a pleasant feeling. Fortunately, Major Prechitt had over a decade of experience in the Corinari, so Nathan was pretty sure he could handle it. “We’ll be entering orbit over Corinair in about ten minutes, Major. We can have comms broadcast to all Corinari units on the surface. Let them know that you have taken command. It will take us a few orbits to get the word out to everyone, but it will be faster than flying around in fighters and shuttles, at least until some sort of communication network is re-established on the surface.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you,” Major Prechitt answered, turning to exit the ready room.

  “It probably goes without saying, Major,” Nathan continued, “but the first priority should be to your available forces and resources.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And quickly,” Nathan added.

  Major Prechitt nodded and continued through the hatch.

  As soon as he had left the room, Cameron spoke again. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “You’re his commanding officer. That makes you indirectly in charge of all the Corinari.”

  “I did not need to hear that, you know,” Nathan stated, casting a disapproving look her way.

  Chapter Three

  Tug sat in the dark, cold cockpit of his interceptor as he coasted through the Takaran system at eighty percent the speed of light. It had taken his interceptor five jumps to traverse the four point six light years that separated the Darvano and Takaran systems. After his initial journey, it had taken him three additional jumps in order to enter the system on a trajectory that would carry his stealthy spacecraft through the heart of the Ta’Akar Empire and allow him to gather as much intelligence as possible. He would then reach the far side of the system and begin jumping his way back to Corinair.

  It had seemed an impossible mission to him at first, as the Takaran home system was protected by a vast network of sensor stations that could detect any ship headed toward the imperial homeworld long before it entered the system. However, the grid itself had been designed to defend against the known propulsion technology of the time. Since his interceptor had been equipped with the Corinairan’s prototype jump drive, he had been able to jump inside the sensor grid, thereby avoiding detection.

  His course and speed at the moment of arrival had been precisely calculated. Now, more than sixteen hours later, he was passing between the orbits of Takara and her sister world, Davonmur. His course had taken him slightly above the system ecliptic, therefore keeping him out of the normal navigation corridors in order to avoid being spotted by civilian, or even worse, military traffic traveling between the two busiest worlds in the system.

  His ship had previously been painted with a special, black, non-reflective coating that absorbed electromagnetic radiation and made the interceptor nearly impossible to detect. At the time, this had been done in order to avoid detection while making communication runs through the Savoy system to maintain contact with Jalea while she was there. His flight tactics in this mission were similar, keeping all of his systems powered down in order to remain cold so as to blend in with the frigid temperatures of outer space. His power plant was completely shut down, and all of his systems were inactive. In fact, there were only two things operating in his ship at the moment: his flight suit’s portable life support system and the passive sensory suite that was gathering and recording signals and images of everything of interest as he coasted past the worlds and stations of the enemy’s home system.

  He had passed the primary planet hours ago and was just now passing Davonmur. He had kept his sensors focused primarily on Takara, as it was the capital of the system and the most likely to emanate comm signals of interest. Davonmur, on the other hand, was primarily a civilian world and was unlikely to yield any useful intelligence. Nevertheless, he had already focused his passive sensor array on the secondary world since it was now in such close proximity. Once past it, he would train his array elsewhere.

  In fact, he was most interested in getting a peek at the shipyards of the moon Pallax. The biggest of the forty moons orbiting the systems biggest gas-giant, Hellek, its low gravity, complete lack of atmosphere, and rich mineral deposits had made it an ideal location for the construction and maintenance of the imperial fleet. Most notably, his interest was in the state of the Avendahl, the empire’s last battleship that was nearing the completion of her upgrade to use the new zero-point energy device as its primary power source. If that ship were allowed to leave port powered by the ZPED, it was doubtful that the Aurora would be able to defeat her.

  Unfortunately, Tug was not able to analyze or even view any of the images or signals being collected by his passive sensor suite, as to do so would require the use of his main computer system, which would require him to power up at least one of his fusion reactors. would make him instantly visible on Ta’Akar sensors which were constantly scanning the system to monitor the movement of ships between worlds. In his current configuration, if detected, he would appear to be nothing more than a rock of insignificant size. Even a closer imaging from a nearby ship would show him to be an abandoned, outdated interceptor that had probably drifted in from outside the system. He would not be big enough to be considered a threat to any planet, and his trajectory kept him free of the shipping lanes so that he would not be considered a collision threat that needed to be dealt with. Another ship would have to be within visual range in order to determine his true nature and intent, and if any ship began such an approach, he could still power up and jump away within a few minutes.

  Of course, jumping away from deep within the system was the last thing Tug wanted to do. Not only would that immediately identify him as an intruder, but it would alert the Ta’Akar that the rumors of the mysterious disappearing ship were not only true, but that there was more than one of them. More importantly, it would alert them to the fact that their home system was easy to penetrate, and that would make this the last recon mission they would ever run through the Takaran system.

  Tug still had several hours before he would be within passive sensor range of Hellek. He only hoped his calculations of the orbit of Pallax were correct. If not, he would have to return for another pass in order to image the shipyards. As it was, this mission was already going to last more than twenty-eight hours.

  He checked the mission time on his data pad. In two more hours, he would be passing Hellek. After that, he would have to coast for another ten hours to reach his safe departure point well beyond the heliopause on the opposite side of the system. Unfortunately, the positions of the other worlds beyond the orbit of Hellek would make it impossible for him to examine them during this pass. However, he was reasonably certain those worlds offered little in the way of intelligence. There might be a few frigates out doing maneuvers in the outer reaches of the system, but there was nothing he could do about that now. His mission was primarily to determine the current state of the Avendahl.

  This type of recon was a true test of a pilot’s resolve. Tug remembered the patrols he and Max had flown beyond the borders of the Palee system. Max was his former wingman and lifetime friend who now went by the name of Travon Dumar. They, too, had spent hours drifting and scanning, looking for signs of ships traveling at faster than light speeds. They had both been younger men then, full of pride and arrogance, and ready to prove themselves in their cockpits. Tug had determined that their commanding officer had assigned them the boring task of deep space recon as a way of teaching them patience and self control. On more than one occasion, they had both performed maneuvers during training sorties that were considered dangerous and unwarranted. The fact that they had performed them flawlessly had not mattered to their sup
eriors. They only saw Tug as the son of nobility who thought the rules did not apply to him, as well as his trusty sidekick who was willing to follow his arrogant leader anywhere. They had let him get away with his flight antics right up until he and Max were almost killed. That had been when the deep space patrols had begun.

  He had run them alone at first, as Max had still been recovering at the time. He had always believed he had been sent out alone because no one other than Max had wanted to fly with him. It wasn’t until later that he realized they were trying to teach him to understand the loneliness of deep space. He eventually did come to understand it, as it had taken Max several weeks to recover from his injuries.

  Since then, Tug had flown many missions by himself. He certainly could have used some company on this trip, but it was too dangerous a mission to ask another to risk it. His subordinates in the Karuzari had begged him not to go, but Tug knew it had to be him. No one knew how to fly his ship better than he. No one knew how to use the interceptor’s strengths to quickly get out of trouble. More importantly, none of them knew the Takaran system as he did. This was his home. It was where he had been born and raised. It was where his father, his father’s father, and all their fathers before them had lived since the time it was first settled nearly a thousand years ago.

  That was a very long time ago, and Takara had changed drastically under the rule of Caius the Great of the house of Ta’Akar. His world had once been a beautiful and peaceful world. It had been a beacon of hope that had united the worlds of the Pentaurus cluster only a hundred years after the great migration had ended. The worlds of the cluster, with the help of Takaran ships, had managed to work together to better the lives of all the worlds within the cluster. They had even begun to branch out and help the worlds outside the cluster, including the Palee, who had been under threat by the Soo-Dani.

  Tug tried not to think about how Caius had corrupted and destroyed his homeworld. Such thoughts could only distract him from his mission. Instead, he spent his time plotting and planning the various ways the Aurora and her jump drive could be used to take down the mighty Ta’Akar empire and restore his home to its former glory. That was where his energies needed to be directed, just as they had been for the last forty years.

  * * *

  “Captain on deck!” the guard announced as Nathan entered the compartment that had been set up as the main intelligence room and had come to be known as the ‘intel shack’. As expected, no one even looked up from their consoles. There were too few individuals qualified for such work, and those few were too busy analyzing all the comm signals, images, and thermal scans that had been brought back by Tug to be distracted with the formalities of rank. That was fine with Nathan, who never much cared for such formalities, although he did understand the need. He knew that neither Tug nor Cameron—both of whom were hovering over the display table in the center of the room—approved of his disregard for such protocols. However, they both knew that things would eventually change—if they survived the current crisis and actually made it out of the Pentaurus cluster once and for all.

  “Glad to see you made it back safely, Tug,” Nathan stated as he stepped up to the table and patted Tug on the back. “That was one long recon flight.”

  “Indeed it was,” Tug agreed, “but I believe it was worth it.”

  “What did we learn?” Nathan asked, turning his attention to the various images displayed on the table.

  “It’s still too early to be sure about anything,” Jessica warned, “as we’ve only just begun to analyze the data. It will take hours for us to decrypt and sift through all the comm signals he recorded. It may even take days.”

  “Recruit as many people as needed,” Nathan ordered. “We don’t have days.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We got very lucky, Captain,” Tug explained. “The position of Pallax was such that I was able to get extremely clear images of the Avendahl in the orbital shipyards.” Tug tapped the image on the table and it enlarged to reveal a remarkably clear image of the massive battleship from above and slightly to her port side. “You can clearly see that she is already running on internal power from the zero-point device.”

  “How can you tell?” Nathan wondered, staring at the image.

  “She only has a few backup power umbilicals attached,” Dumar explained, “not nearly enough to power the entire ship.”

  Nathan looked at the thermal scans of the ship next to the visual image. It showed the same time code. There were not the usual large red balls in the center of the battleship’s profile. “She’s too cool to be running on fusion or anti-matter reactors,” he commented unhappily.

  “That was our observation as well,” Dumar agreed.

  “Then we’re too late?” Nathan asked.

  “Perhaps not,” Dumar added. “Her ZPED may be installed and operational, but she is far from ready for deployment.” Dumar pointed to several spots on the image. “Notice these sections where the hull has been opened. There are at least twenty of them visible on the topside of the ship alone. I believe they are still upgrading her shield emitters to handle the increased power provided by the ZPED.”

  “How long until they finish?” Nathan asked.

  “That is difficult to assess,” Tug said. “Perhaps if we conducted another recon a day later and compared the images, we might be able to make a more accurate assessment.”

  “Give me a best guess,” Nathan insisted.

  “If they have just started, and the rest of the ship is in similar condition, it could be a few more weeks,” Dumar stated.

  “Or they could have been doing one side at a time, and this is the last side,” Cameron said.

  “That is also a possibility,” Dumar agreed. “If so, we could have a week or even less.”

  “Can you do another fly by?” Nathan asked Tug. “Maybe this time traversing the system from above the ecliptic to below in order to get a different angle.”

  “A good idea,” Tug agreed, “but there may not be enough time.”

  “How much time do we have before the Loranoi’s comm-drone reaches Takara?” Nathan asked.

  “Just under thirty-three hours,” Jessica reported.

  “The last recon took thirty hours,” Cameron reminded them.

  “That’s barely a day and a half,” Nathan stated. “We can’t mount an offensive in such a short time.”

  “It may not be necessary,” Dumar told him. “They will receive the Loranoi’s message, yes, but that does not mean that any significant actions will be taken at that moment. Imperial command will undoubtedly wait for at least a day for a follow-up message from the Loranoi announcing that the uprising has been put down. Once no message is received, they will go to Caius with a report as well as a recommendation.”

  “And what will their recommendation be?” Nathan wondered.

  “They will undoubtedly insist on dispatching a battle group to Darvano with the intention of leveling Corinair,” Dumar announced in a surprisingly calm fashion. Everyone in the room looked at him. “It is what Caius has always wanted to do in the first place. He now has an excuse to do so, and he will not hesitate to act.”

  “What about the Avendahl?” Cameron asked. “Wouldn’t it be faster to complete her refit and send her instead of the battle group?”

  “Indeed it would,” Dumar agreed, “but the Avendahl is the empire’s last remaining battleship. Caius will keep her close at hand to protect the homeworld. However, he may increase their efforts to complete her refit.”

  “Either way, it appears we need to attack Takara as soon as possible,” Nathan concluded. “We cannot allow the Avendahl’s upgrades to be completed.” Nathan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he scanned the images before him. “How long will it take that battle group to get here?” Nathan asked.

  “If dispatched immediately from the Takaran system, about six months,” Dumar stated. “However, if they have ships already in closer proximity, they might arrive considerably sooner.”
>
  Nathan contemplated the situation for a moment before speaking. “We cannot hope to mount a successful offensive against the Ta’Akar home system before the comm-drone delivers its message to imperial command. If we are lucky, we might be able to mount an offensive before the Avendahl is able to defend herself. We should concentrate our efforts on that premise.”

  “And what of Corinair?” Cameron wondered.

  “If we worry about Corinair now and miss our opportunity to destroy the Avendahl, we may only be delaying their fate. If we are unable to destroy the Avendahl, we may still be able to escape and perhaps either mount a defense or at least evacuate as many people as possible from the surface.”

  “Captain, there are billions of people on Corinair,” Dumar pointed out. “Even with your jump drive, it would take years to evacuate them all, maybe even decades. And where would they…”

  “I would not even try,” Nathan interrupted. “Any word yet on what, if any, resources are available to us?”

  “I’m still trying to get an accurate assessment of existing operational forces on Corinair, sir,” Major Prechitt answered. The Wallach appeared to have targeted major communications and command and control during her first orbit, as well as whatever major government targets came into range during that pass. She also struck many of the airfields and spaceports. Luckily, most of the interceptors based on the surface were already airborne and were on their way to engage the Wallach during the initial bombardment. More than half of the remaining interceptors were lost during the engagement before you ordered them off. At last count, there were about fifty interceptors left, but of course, they are all configured primarily for air and orbital intercepts.”

  “What about their ordnance?” Nathan asked.

  “Whatever was stored at their operational bases is a total loss. However, a few munitions depots located in the polar regions escaped attack during the Wallach’s first orbit. But it is only enough to rearm the remaining interceptors perhaps once. It is definitely not enough for a prolonged engagement.”

 

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