Ep.#15 - That Which Other Men Cannot Do (The Frontiers Saga)

by Ryk Brown

  “You make that statement because, just like everyone else, you do not understand the Ghatazhak.”

  “Then enlighten me, Commander,” the admiral requested, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest.

  “You believe that the Ghatazhak enjoy fighting, that we enjoy killing. Nothing could be further from the truth. We take great pride in our abilities, and we take great satisfaction in carrying out our missions with efficiency and success. However, the ultimate success for a Ghatazhak would be for our efforts to lead to a universe where such violence would no longer be necessary…that the mere threat of it would be enough to prevent it from ever occurring.” The commander sighed. “Unfortunately, such is not the nature of the human animal, and I suspect that it never shall be.”

  “A sad statement.”

  “On the contrary,” the commander disagreed, “it is our violent nature that ensures the very survival of our species. It enables us to survive under the harshest of conditions. It enables us to endure the worst hardships. And it even causes us to ‘cull the herd’ when it gets out of control and threatens to collapse us under our own weight. You see, the flaws that so plague humanity are also the very same ones that lead to our successes. Without them, we would be like herds of gorato, grazing and shitting, waiting to die, accomplishing nothing more than the creation of fertilizer through our excrements and our rotting corpses, destined to eventual extinction at the hands of our predators.”

  This time, it was Admiral Dumar who let out a heavy sigh. “You have an unusual view of the universe, Lucius.”

  “I would argue that it is a realistic one.”

  “Perhaps.” The admiral sighed again.

  “It is obvious this decision weighs heavily on your mind, Admiral,” the commander commented.

  “Indeed it does,” Dumar admitted. “I must find a way to defeat the ground forces without losing one of my most valuable resources. Namely, you and your men.”

  “Do not worry about the Ghatazhak, Admiral,” Commander Telles said. “We will gladly fight to the last man. You only have to ask.”

  “I have what I hope is a better idea,” the admiral said. “If I were to give you a thousand able-bodied young men, each of them willing to fight and die for our cause, could you turn them into an effective fighting force?”

  “Of course,” the commander replied with confidence. “We have trained over ten thousand security officers for the Earth Security Force.”

  “And how long was their training?”

  “The basic training consisted of eight weeks. Then the top ten percent went on for an additional eight weeks of training.”

  “And would you take them into combat against the Jung?” the admiral asked.

  “If the odds were overwhelmingly in our favor, yes,” the commander replied, realizing where the admiral was heading. “How many men have you acquired?”

  “So far, only a few hundred from each member world. In total, about a thousand. But it has only been a few days since we called for volunteers. We are hoping for numbers in the tens of thousands.”

  “You bring them to us, and we will train them,” the commander promised. “They will not be as well trained as the Jung, and they certainly will not be anything like the Ghatazhak, but they will be an effective fighting force.”

  “One that you can take into combat against entrenched Jung ground forces, and win?”

  “Depending on the situation and the force strengths, it is possible.”

  “I was hoping you would say that, Commander,” the admiral said as he stood. “The first thousand volunteers will be arriving in three days. If the current rate of enlistment across all member worlds continues to hold, you will have a new batch of one thousand men every week. Can you handle that?”

  “Yes, sir,” Commander Telles said, as he also stood. “How soon do you need the first group to be ready for action, sir?”

  “Thirty days, Commander.”

  Commander Telles looked concerned. “A challenging task. May I ask why you need them so quickly?”

  “Because in thirty days, both the Aurora and the Celestia will be ready for action, and we will start kicking ass, Commander.”

  * * *

  “Seems kind of tight, doesn’t it?” Nathan commented as the elevator pad slowed and he got his first view of the Celestia’s new fighter launch deck.

  “The idea was to dedicate as much space as possible to the launch tubes,” the master chief explained.

  “There’s barely enough room for ships to maneuver in here. A lot of those Eagle pilots are going to be low-timers. Really low-timers, in fact.”

  “The movement system will be automated,” Cameron said. “Ground crews will only have to input where they want a ship to be parked, and the ship will move there automatically. The pilots will only be in the cockpits from launch to landing.”

  “Throughout the entire ship, or just on this deck?” Nathan wondered.

  “The entire ship,” the master chief chimed in. “If it rolls on our decks, it does so by control of the auto-movement system.”

  “It’s going to be that way on the Aurora as well,” Cameron added.

  “I can think of a few pilots who might object,” Nathan replied as they stepped off the port elevator pad and headed forward.

  “Four tubes per side, so, eight ships will always stand ready in the tubes, and eight more lined up to enter,” Master Chief Montrose explained as they walked. “We’ll be able to get sixteen Eagles off in just a few minutes of an alert. Another sixteen within the following ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” Nathan replied, unimpressed. “Surely we can do better than that?”

  “Can’t be helped,” Cameron insisted. “It takes time to get additional ships up from the hangar deck, and we can only fit two Eagles per elevator pad. There just isn’t enough space here.”

  “I still think we should have put the launch tubes on the primary cargo deck,” Nathan said.

  “That would have taken months,” Cameron reminded him. “We would’ve had to remove propellant tanks, maneuvering thrusters—and the hull is twice as thick there. Besides, if we need to get more ships off faster, we can always launch them from the main catapults on the main flight deck. Three at a time, per side. All in all, it’s still a more efficient system than the original design.”

  Nathan looked into one of the port launch tube airlocks. “Wow, that is really tight.”

  “I said the same thing when I first saw it,” Cameron agreed. “Since they’ll never launch anything but Eagles, they made the airlocks really snug, so as to save time repressurizing them between launch cycles. The tubes themselves are slightly bigger, but not by much.”

  Nathan stopped and looked around, taking notice of all the work still in progress. “How long until everything is complete?”

  “It’s mostly just touch-up work and adjustments right now,” Master Chief Montrose said.

  “The first Super Eagles won’t start rolling off the production line for a couple more weeks,” Cameron added. “This deck will be fully operational long before then.”

  “How long until you get your first birds?” Nathan asked.

  “According to the admiral’s office, the first sixteen ships should be delivered to us in forty-nine days.”

  “Sixteen fighters in less than two months,” Nathan commented in awe.

  “Fabricator technology is a wonderful asset,” Cameron said, equally amazed. “Plasma weapons and shields aside, they’ve got to be the best thing the Pentaurus cluster gave us.” Cameron looked at Nathan. “We wouldn’t have them if you hadn’t chosen to stay and defend Corinair.”

  “Despite your objections,” Nathan added, a wry smile on his face.

  “Despite my objections,” Cameron admitted.

  Nathan paused again as they reached the center of the compartment, slowly turning a full circle as he took the entire scene in. “Makes me wish I had become a fighter pilot instead.”

  “You�
��re not cocky enough,” Cameron said. “Arrogant, yes.”

  * * *

  “Most of our intelligence comes from the gathering of emissions from the worlds within the system,” Commander Saray said. “In addition, we are also able to glean some details from the business transactions between Darvano and Takara, and Savoy and Takara. It is by no means complete, however. And from what we’ve pieced together thus far, it does not appear that the nobles of Takara are doing anything other than minding their interstellar business interests. In fact, several houses have traded their interstellar assets for interplanetary, or even domestic concerns.”

  “No doubt, they are trying to reduce their financial risks in uncertain times,” Captain Navarro stated.

  “A wise move,” Commander Golan commented.

  “There are a few who are buying up those interstellar interests with considerable enthusiasm,” Commander Saray continued.

  “They will be worthy of monitoring,” the captain cautioned. “As they are taking the greatest financial risks, they will be more concerned with the stability of the cluster than others.”

  “Or the instability,” Commander Saray added. “Great profits can be pulled from such conditions, if one is clever enough.”

  “True,” Captain Navarro agreed.

  “What we need are operatives on the ground,” Commander Saray said.

  “Have you none?” Commander Golan wondered. “You are the chief of intelligence, after all.”

  “I have many operatives,” Commander Saray defended. “Unfortunately, most of them are not positioned within the Takaran system. We had neither warning nor time…”

  “Gentlemen, please,” Captain Navarro interrupted, “None of us could have foreseen the abrupt changes this sector has experienced in the last year. All we can do is adapt to the changes as best we can.”

  “I can get operatives onto the Takaran worlds,” Commander Saray promised, “but it will take time.”

  “How much time?” Captain Navarro asked.

  “Weeks, maybe even months.”

  Captain Navarro sighed, a pensive look on his face. “And then it will take additional time for them to position themselves.”

  “Without raising suspicion, yes,” Commander Saray agreed.

  “Do what you can, Commander.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Navarro turned to Commander Golan, sitting on the opposite side of the table from Commander Saray. “How are our sensor nets?”

  “As instructed, we have deployed reprogrammed sensor drones along all major shipping lanes leading to and from the Takaran system. They are using only passive systems, so they will be difficult to detect, should anyone be looking for them. We have tasked a comm-drone to jump from sensor to sensor, once a day, to collect recorded readings.”

  “And if an outbound warship should pass one of the sensor drones?” Commander Saray wondered. “If it is a jump ship, the drone will never see it.”

  “Obviously, it will only detect conventional FTL traffic, in which case the daily collection of data will be more than sufficient. Even if it could detect a jump ship, it would be of no value as the ship in question would reach its destination long before warning could be received, even if the sensor was programmed to abandon its position and jump back to warn us.”

  “Seems rather pointless.”

  “The nobles have three ships in total,” Captain Navarro pointed out. “And only one of them is currently jump capable.”

  “Currently, being the operative term,” Commander Saray emphasized. “Intelligence indicates they are putting every effort into making their remaining ships jump capable, as well.”

  “A cruiser and two frigates are hardly a concern,” Commander Golan said.

  “No, they are not,” Captain Navarro agreed. “As long as we know where they are. I am more concerned about that battleship.”

  “The Inman?” Commander Golan wondered, seeming somewhat surprised by his captain’s concerns. “She is at least two years from completion, if the nobles are able to maintain her build schedule, which I seriously doubt. Besides, did you not warn them not to attempt to increase their fleet strength?”

  “We have no indications that construction has resumed on the Inman, Captain,” Commander Saray assured the group. “In fact, we have unconfirmed reports of resources and equipment being taken away from the Inman in favor of their operational vessels.”

  “The nobles will resume construction of the Inman,” Captain Navarro insisted. “House Kalisch has too much invested in her to simply walk away. Furthermore, they know that until the Darvano and Savoy systems are able to build their own warships, we are stuck here, defending them.”

  “Perhaps we should strike now,” Commander Golan speculated. “The Inman’s assembly facility has no significant defenses. A flight of combat jump shuttles, and a handful of jump fighters could easily set the Inman’s completion back several years, if not destroy her completely.”

  “Too aggressive,” Captain Navarro replied. “Such an overt act would almost require an armed response by the nobles—to save face, if nothing more.”

  “Captain, rumor has it that the houses holding ownership of Takara’s three warships are demanding compensation from the other houses in exchange for protection,” Commander Saray explained. “If this is true, and if the other noble houses agree to such compensation, it will greatly restrict the movements of those ships.”

  “Especially if the Avendahl continues to be seen as a direct threat,” Commander Golan observed.

  Captain Navarro leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest pensively. He uncrossed them to rub his chin, pondering the situation. “Commander Golan, should one or two of your sensor drones inadvertently release detectable emissions, I shall not be angry.”

  “An occasional probe of the outskirts of Takara might be in order as well,” Commander Saray suggested.

  “A gunship or two, perhaps?” Commander Golan added.

  “A single ship should suffice,” Captain Navarro insisted. “Let’s not make it too obvious.”

  “Yes, sir.” Commander Golan replied.

  “You know, Captain, it is possible that Lord Ganna was speaking in earnest. After all, any attempt to expand the Takaran Empire at this time would be extremely risky, and would offer little reward. Furthermore, the Takaran economy is far too fragile at the moment.”

  “I have considered that,” Captain Navarro admitted. “However, I do not trust Ganna, or any of the other major houses of Takara. Such men crave wealth—sometimes at the sacrifice of all else. Let us not forget how profitable the times of expansion were for us all, under the reign of Caius. Our job, gentlemen, is to see that it does not happen again.”

  * * *

  Commander Telles walked briskly across the tarmac toward the assembly of men, Master Sergeant Jahal at his side. “I assume that they have all met minimum physical requirements?”

  “Of course,” Master Sergeant Jahal replied. “Every one of them was screened at the Karuzara’s medical center before being transferred down to us. They are healthy and fit for duty, and there is not a Jung nanite in any of them.”

  Commander Telles looked at the master sergeant. “That’s surprising, considering they all came from worlds that were recently occupied by the Jung.”

  “That’s why there are only a thousand volunteers, at the moment,” the master sergeant explained. “More than twice that number volunteered, but only these men were nanite-free.”

  Commander Telles stepped up onto the podium, turning to face the men assembled before him. Ghatazhak sergeants moved up and down their lines, chewing out volunteers whose stance they did not deem proper. He listened to their voices, remembering those of his own drill instructors many years ago, when he was only a teenager. Those men had scared the crap out of him at first. He had hated each and every one of them. However, over time, he had learned to use that hatred to fuel his own desire to excel, so that those men would have no reason to yell
at him.

  The commander turned his head slightly, looking at his master sergeant.

  “Company, ah-ten-HUT!” the master sergeant barked, his voice loud and sharp enough to be heard over even the distant whine of lift turbines and the zing of shuttles disappearing in jump flashes only a few hundred meters above them.

  The group of men snapped to attention, their bodies rigid, their hands at their sides, and their eyes straight ahead. The commander paused again as his sergeants went into even greater fury, chastising anyone who was not standing tall in their eyes. After nearly a minute, the last sergeant fell to the side of the line, until the entire company was standing tall and proud.

  Commander Telles touched his comm-set, tying it into the loudspeaker built into the podium. “Gentlemen, my name is Commander Lucius Telles. I am the leader of the Ghatazhak, and the commanding officer of all Alliance ground forces. Our number currently stands at four hundred seventy-eight. In thirty days, those of you who pass this course will be added to that number. The men training you are seasoned Ghatazhak, all of whom have survived the bloodiest combat you can possibly imagine…more than once. Each of them trained for more than a decade before they were ever put into harm’s way. You will not find better trained warriors anywhere in the galaxy. Make no mistake, when you finish your training, you will not be as them. You will never be as them. However, you will be ready to fight. Ready, able, and equipped. You will fight, and many of you will die. For that is the nature of war. Train hard, as if your life, and the lives of the men standing beside you, depend on it…for they do. As of this moment, you should all be considered brave men. For each of you has volunteered to give your life in the service of something much greater than yourself. There is no braver act, and there is no greater pride. Give me your best effort, and I will always give you mine.” Commander Telles turned to his master sergeant. “Master Sergeant Jahal. Get these men into uniforms.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Admiral Galiardi, you claim that Captain Scott did not have the authority to form the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance, and that the Earth Defense Force should still exist. Can you elaborate on that for our viewers?”