by Ryk Brown
“I’ve got locks on the first two targets,” Jessica announced.
“Fire at will,” Nathan ordered.
“Firing ventral quads.”
“More jump flashes,” Mister Navashee reported. “Cobra gunships.”
“Incoming message from Cobra One,” Naralena said. “Captain Nash is asking for new orders, since there’s nothing left of the frigates for them to clean up.”
“Have them split up,” Nathan said. “Four to the area of the battle platform, and four to the area of the battleship. Verify their destruction and make sure no shuttles get away.”
“Aye, sir.”
“First two targets destroyed,” Jessica reported. “Targeting third site.”
“Flight ops reports all fighters and CNS shuttles are away,” Naralena said.
“Prepare to jump ahead to the next group of surface targets, Mister Riley,” Nathan instructed.
“Aye, sir.”
“Jump flashes in the atmosphere,” Mister Navashee reported. “Combat and troop jumpers.”
“Incoming message from the Jar-Benakh,” Naralena added. “Two of the four cruisers have been destroyed by the Kent’s missiles. The other two are damaged. They are finishing them off now.”
Jessica shook her head. “This is getting too easy. I almost feel guilty.”
Nathan turned slowly in his chair, coming around to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
“I said, almost,” she reminded him.
* * *
Captain Dubnyk stood in the middle of his vegetable garden, admiring the various plants around him. It was a healthy garden, and it provided more than half of the daily sustenance for himself, Fayla, and the six young men who had come to him for shelter when their families had turned their backs on them for whatever reason. He had never understood the Tannan tendency to shun family members who had brought shame upon them. To Alan Dubnyk, family was everything. It was also the one thing, in all his thousand years of existence, he had never obtained. He had always meant to, but like most young men on Earth back in the day, he yearned for excitement and adventure. Family was something that came later. So he had pursued his career, and he had found his excitement and adventure. But by the time he had gotten his fill, it was too late. All that he had seen and experienced had left him jaded and bitter. He had tried more than once to retire, but it had never stuck. There was always another adventure to be had. So he had returned to work, eventually finding his way to the ill-fated mission to BD+25 3252.
Things were different now. Fate had given him another chance. He had his family, or at least something akin to it. They may not be his biological children, but they depended on his guidance, nonetheless. They needed one another, trusted one another. In his mind, that made them family.
“How long have you been standing out here?” Fayla asked as she stepped out of the kitchen door.
“An hour, perhaps,” he replied.
“That long?”
“The sun feels good on my face,” he said, looking up at the Tannan sky. He looked back down at the garden. “And this garden, with all its healthy plants…it makes me feel alive.”
“You should sit, you must be tired,” Fayla insisted. “I will get you some tea.”
“I am fine.”
“Do as I say, and sit in the gazebo. The midday sun is bad for you.” She turned back to the house, only to find Brill coming out to join them. “Brill!” she exclaimed with joy. She ran the few steps to Brill and threw her arms around him to welcome him home. “When did you return?”
“Less than an hour ago,” he replied. “I haven’t even been home yet.”
“It is good to see you again,” she told him. “I am getting the captain some tea. Please, make him get out of the sun, while I get tea for you both.”
Brill nodded in agreement as Fayla went inside, then walked over to Captain Dubnyk in the middle of the garden.
“I was beginning to worry about you,” Captain Dubnyk said. “It has been nearly forty days since you left for Earth.”
“I apologize,” Brill replied. “It took some time for them to provide transport back to Tanna.”
“Yes, of course. I suppose that is to be expected.” The captain turned and began to walk slowly toward the gazebo at the far end of the yard.
“You look remarkably well,” Brill said, noticing not only the steadiness of his mentor’s stride, but also the improved color and tone of his skin. “The treatments must be working.”
“To a point, yes,” the captain agreed. “But they will not fix the problem. They are only a crutch, a delaying of the inevitable, I’m afraid.”
“Do not speak in such ways,” Brill insisted. “Our plans will succeed.” He followed the captain up into the gazebo, sitting down across the table from him. “I have good news,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. “I was accepted into their advanced training. I learned everything I could, so much more than I would have if I had stayed in basic.”
“That is good news,” Captain Dubnyk insisted.
“I learned about all sorts of weapons, combat techniques, tactics, entries… I even learned the basics of flight. I spent considerable time studying that part of my training.”
“That is very good, Brill. Then you must teach the others. You must teach them everything you learned.”
“I will,” Brill promised.
“But not today, I think. Go home to your family, spend some time with them. A few days, perhaps.”
“But they will be ashamed of me.”
“Tell them you were given a three-day pass, and permission to visit your family before beginning your service. Tell them it was a reward for doing so well in your training.”
“But I do not wear the uniform. They will become suspicious.”
“No matter. In three days’ time, bid them farewell and return to me. Tell no one of your deception, not even your brother.” Captain Dubnyk looked the young man in the eyes. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I understand. I will return in three days.”
Captain Dubnyk leaned back in his chair and sighed. “You have made me very proud, Mister Daymon. More importantly, you have given me hope.”
Brill smiled, a feeling of genuine prided washing over him.
“Now, go,” the captain insisted. “We will see each other soon enough.”
Brill rose from his seat, nodding respectfully before he turned and left.
Captain Dubnyk watched his most loyal student as he made his way through the garden and disappeared into the kitchen. He looked up at the sky above the house and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh.
Fate had indeed given him yet another chance.
* * *
“We believe our next targets should be the Zeta Doradus and the Zeta Reticuli systems,” Admiral Dumar announced to his officers gathered in the mission briefing room deep inside the Karuzara asteroid base.
“Those are both nearly forty light years away,” Nathan commented. “I thought the idea was to expand the Jung-free zone around Sol?”
“The further away from Sol we get, the greater the number of potential targets,” Gerard explained. “Also, by this time, we have to assume that any Jung-held system that we have not yet attacked has been warned of our liberation efforts. The element of surprise may be gone.”
“And the risk will be higher,” Admiral Dumar added. “Therefore, we must choose to attack where it will do the most good.”
“Why Zeta Doradus?” Cameron asked.
“During my time on Kohara, I learned that much of the equipment, supplies, and personnel used by the Jung came to Kohara by way of 82 Eridani. After Captain Poc discovered the additional flow of Jung forces through that system, we began to watch it more closely. Prior to the liberation of 82 Eridani, our recon efforts revealed that Jung shipping traffic was coming to that system primarily from Zeta Doradus and Zeta Reticuli.”
“You think the supplies are coming from thos
e worlds?” Nathan wondered.
“We do not know,” Gerard admitted. “We have seen cargo ships, as well as military vessels passing through both systems from places unknown. Places outside of the Sol sector.”
“How far outside?” Jessica asked.
“Again, we do not know. We have not had the recon resources available to commit to missions beyond fifty light years from Sol, as we had been forced to keep an eye on all Jung ships within the danger zone of thirty light years.”
“Now that we’ve cleared that zone, can we start looking further out?” Nathan asked.
“Again, we run into the problem of the number of systems that must be investigated,” Admiral Dumar reminded them. “However, we are in the process of refitting Scout One for long-range recon missions. We think it’s only prudent that we start by following known shipping routes and see where that leads us. Scout One, or ‘Recon One’, as it will be called, will be able to conduct long-range scans, thus enabling her to detect Jung ships within a system without having to penetrate that system. With luck, it may lead us to higher value targets.”
The door to the mission briefing room opened, and an officer entered. He walked up to Admiral Dumar and handed him a data pad.
The admiral looked at the data pad as the officer departed. A disappointed look came over his face as he read. Finally, he set the data pad down and sighed.
Nathan looked at Jessica sitting next to him, as he noticed the expression on the admiral’s face.
“I’ve just received word from President Scott. In response to Admiral Galiardi’s petition, the Coalition Congress has called for a meeting of all Alliance member worlds, in order to decide how best to proceed. In the meantime, we have been ordered to stand down and discontinue all offensive operations. We are authorized to take whatever steps are necessary to protect the member worlds of the Alliance, and to conduct reconnaissance, but nothing more. We are not to fire on any Jung ship unless fired upon.”
The room fell quiet.
“Return to your ships,” Admiral Dumar instructed. “I will keep you updated as the situation changes. Meanwhile, I expect you all to maintain a constant state of readiness.”
“That’s it?” Jessica asked.
“Jess,” Nathan scolded.
“I mean, we’re not going to patrol or anything?” she added. “Don’t we need to let the Jung know that we’re keeping an eye on them, or something?”
“I will speak to President Scott directly,” Admiral Dumar assured her. “Until then, you all have your orders. Dismissed.”
Everyone in the room stood as the admiral departed.
Nathan turned to Cameron. “Well, it’s not like we didn’t see this coming.”
“That doesn’t make it suck any less,” Jessica grumbled as she turned to follow the others out.
* * *
General Bacca opened his eyes, slowly at first. His eyelids felt heavy, and his body felt weak and listless. The room was dimly lit, making it easier on his eyes. He could see a man hovering over him. The man was speaking.
“General Bacca?” the man said to him. “Are you awake, sir?”
“How long?” the general asked. His voice was harsh, his mouth dry.
“Two hundred and forty-five days, sir,” the man replied.
General Bacca recognized the man. He was the shuttle’s communications officer. The general reached his hand out. “Help me up.”
The communications officer took the general’s hand and helped him sit up, repositioning the general’s legs to hang over the side of the open stasis bed. He handed the general a bottle of water, giving him a moment to regain his senses before speaking further.
“Two hundred…” the general began, unsure of himself.
“And forty-five, yes.”
“Are we still…”
“Yes,” another voice said.
General Bacca looked at the other man. It was his pilot.
“We are still in position just over a light year outside of the Sol system,” the pilot confirmed.
“Why have you awakened me?” the general wondered.
“We received a message from a passing comm-drone,” the communications officer explained.
“It triggered our stasis pods to wake us,” the pilot added.
“A message for us?” the general asked, seeming surprised.
“Indirectly, yes,” the communications officer explained. “The drone was on its way to Earth, with a message from the Jung homeworld.”
“A message? What kind of message?”
“They wish to discuss a cease-fire.”
“Absurd,” the general responded.
“That is the message they are sending to the leaders of Earth,” the communications officer explained. “However, there was another message. One intended for any Jung officers possessing regional command authority.”
“And what did it say?”
“The message contains orders,” the communications officer explained. “Orders for the nearest RCA officer to head for Earth to negotiate on behalf of the Jung.”
General Bacca’s brow furrowed, his mind racing. “The communications drone?”
“It is still in sub-light,” the communications officer replied, “awaiting our response.”
“Recall the drone and store it in our cargo bay,” the general ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the communications officer replied, turning to exit.
“Captain,” the general continued, “how long to reach Earth?”
“At maximum FTL, about twenty-one days,” the pilot replied.
“Set course for Earth, maximum FTL,” the general ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Have we been collecting signals intelligence all this time?” the general asked.
“Of course,” the pilot confirmed.
“Good, I wish to review all of it, as soon as I get cleaned up and get some food and water into me.”
“Are you sure you don’t wish to remain in stasis until we get closer?”
“Not a chance,” the general insisted. “I want to know everything that has happened while we’ve been in stasis, and I’ve got two hundred and forty-five days’ worth of signals intelligence from which to learn exactly that.”
CHAPTER TEN
Jessica leaned back in her chair and sighed in frustration. Her head fell back against the headrest, her eyes closed. “We’ve been at this for weeks, and we’re still no closer to finding the Jung homeworld than we were when we started.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Gerard disagreed. He continued staring at the view screens above the three-dimensional map hovering over the planning table in the Aurora’s intelligence office. When he realized that Jessica had not responded, he turned to look at her. She was staring back at him, a look of disapproval on her face. “Okay, maybe you’re right.” He finally conceded.
“I think we need more data,” Jessica suggested.
“Are you kidding? We’ve got tons of data.”
“What you need is a programmer,” Vladimir said.
“Jesus,” Jessica exclaimed with a start. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Why is it so dark in here?” Vladimir wondered, moving from the doorway deeper into the room.
“We thought it might help us focus on the map and the data,” Gerard explained, gesturing to the view screens.
“What are you doing here?” Jessica asked.
“Nathan told me you needed a programmer,” Vladimir replied.
“And he sent you?”
“Thanks.”
“Jesus, I made that request hours ago,” she complained.
“Sorry,” Vladimir said, “but I do have a day job, you know.”
“You’re telling me you’re the only programmer on this ship?”
“The only one available right now. What is all this?” Vladimir asked, pointing at the same view screens.
“Arrivals and departures from about thirty different systems within the Sol sector,” Gerard
explained.
“What are all the little lines?” Vladimir asked.
“Projected course on arrival, based on course after coming out of FTL,” Gerard explained.
“Fat lot of good it does us,” Jessica muttered.
“We’re trying to figure out the location of the Jung homeworld by studying shipping patterns. The problem is that the Jung rarely go directly to a system. Usually, they fly a course that skirts the destination system, then turn toward the system just prior to arrival.”
Vladimir looked confused.
“They do it to mask their point of origin,” Jessica added.
Vladimir nodded. “Da, konyeshna.” He studied the three-dimensional map for a moment. “Is that the only data you have?”
“It was,” Gerard said. “We recently managed to get shipping manifests from some of the systems we liberated. We thought if some of the ships were carrying the same equipment or supplies, and that stuff came from the same place…”
“Then it might reveal the point of origin,” Vladimir surmised. “Very clever. Of course, the number of combinations will be astronomical. You will need some sort of algorithm to do the work; otherwise, it will take you years.”
“Hence, the request for a programmer,” Jessica said. “So can you do it?”
Vladimir shrugged. “No problem.”
“Really?” Jessica sat up, suddenly interested. “How long will it take you?”
“Not long.” Vladimir pointed to a computer terminal on the side of the room. “I can use this terminal?”
“Sure,” Gerard said.
“How long is not long?” Jessica asked again.
“I will need more light.”
“How long?” Jessica pressed, growing more irritated, as Gerard turned the lights back up.
“Is this data already in the computer?” Vladimir asked.
“Yes.” Jessica replied irately. “How long?”
“A few minutes.”
“Are you serious?” Jessica yelled, her patience almost gone.
“Do you want to yell at me, or do you want me to write the algorithm?” Vladimir asked calmly.
“Please, do your stuff,” Gerard told him, gesturing at Jessica to back off.