Ep.#1 - Escalation (The Frontiers Saga: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “Helm, take us higher and turn to port. Don’t let them get a shot at our unprotected areas!”

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Comms, notify Captain Navarro that the Avendahl is under attack. And alert Darvano Defense Command.”

  “New jump flashes!” the sensor officer announced. “Directly astern!”

  “Is it the same group that…”

  “Negative!” the sensor officer replied, cutting the commander short. “New targets! Smaller, more heavily armed! They look like destroyers, sir! They’re firing missiles… Multiple flashes! They’re jump missiles!”

  “All hands! Brace for…”

  The bridge shook violently as eight jump missiles suddenly appeared less than a kilometer away from the Avendahl, immediately slamming into her shields and detonating.

  “We’ve lost all port shields!” Lieutenant Rogal warned.

  “Have you got a firing solution on the forward targets?” Commander Golan demanded.

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Fire all forward tubes! Lock jump missiles on all available targets and launch! Helm! Jump us two light minutes out as soon as those missiles are away!”

  “More flashes!” the sensor officer exclaimed. “More missiles!”

  “Laying down a point-defense wall to port!” Lieutenant Rogal announced. “Firing all forward plasma torpedoes! Locking jump missiles on all targets!”

  The Avendahl shook again, more violently than before. Along the forward bulkhead, a console overloaded, erupting in a shower of sparks and throwing its operator backward. Another explosion to the port side sent pieces of bulkhead and consoles shooting into the bridge, sending more bodies flying.

  “Direct hits to our port hull!” the damage control officer called over the intercom. “Decks seven through twenty-eight, sections A though C are open to space! Fires in the…”

  Commander Golan punched the mute button. He already knew his ship was in trouble. He didn’t need the details at this moment. He needed to get his ship out of the enemy’s firing solutions.

  “Launching all jump missiles!”

  “Standby to jump!” Commander Golan ordered.

  “Captain! The port side took a direct hit,” Commander Hyam warned. “The emitter array may…”

  “No choice,” Commander Golan insisted.

  “Jump missiles away!” the weapons officer reported.

  Commander Golan took a deep breath, clenching the arms of his command chair. “Jump.”

  Doran Montrose burst into Yanni’s office without warning, followed by several of his security officers. “Mister Hiller, Miss Sheehan. You must come with me.”

  “What’s going on here?” Yanni asked, shocked by the sudden arrival of the security chief.

  “The Avendahl is under attack,” Doran explained.

  “By who?”

  “We do not know. But it does not matter. We must move you to a safer location. All of you.”

  “Are you in contact with the Avendahl?” Yanni asked.

  “Yes, but they have jumped out of comms range.”

  “They left?” Yanni’s eyes widened.

  “For the moment,” Doran replied. “They are undoubtedly maneuvering for a counter-attack.”

  “Then they will return.”

  “Of course,” Doran said. “They have stood as Corinair’s defense for seven years now. They will not run at the first sign of trouble. Not Captain Navarro.”

  “Of course, of course.”

  “Please, if you’ll all follow me,” Doran insisted.

  “To where?” Yanni asked, as he followed Mister Montrose out the door and into the corridor.

  “To the shuttle pad outside. We must be prepared to evacuate the three of you, as well as Doctors Sato and Megel, to a secure location.”

  “How?” Yanni asked. “The shuttle has not returned.”

  “The Avendahl will send a shuttle for us,” Doran promised.

  “Are you sure about that?” Yanni wondered. “Deliza has not communicated directly with Captain Navarro for years…”

  Doran stopped in the middle of the corridor, turning to look at Loki. “The captain made a promise to Deliza’s father. He will not ignore that promise. It is not in his nature.”

  “Jump complete!” the Avendahl’s helmsman reported.

  “Locking second wave of jump missiles on targets now!” Lieutenant Rogal announced.

  “Helm, turn us into the nearest battleship.”

  “Turning onto target now.”

  “Firing jump missiles!”

  “Missile launches!” the sensor officer warned. “Jump missiles!”

  Eight more jump flashes appeared on the starboard view screen, momentarily filling the Avendahl’s bridge with their blue-white light. A moment later, the ship shuddered again and the view screen went black.

  “Starboard midship shields are down to twenty percent!”

  “We’re lined up on the battleship,” the helmsman reported.

  “Locking all forward tubes on the battleship,” the weapons officer announced.

  “Two ships moving in to attack our port side,” Lieutenant Cahnis warned. “The destroyers.”

  “Weapons, launch a mine spreader in front of those destroyers,” Commander Golan ordered. “I don’t want them to be able to get into firing position so easily.”

  “Aye, sir!” the lieutenant replied. “Firing forward torpedo tubes! Loading four mine spreaders!”

  “Direct hits on the battleship, sir!” the sensor officer reported. “Her forward shields are down to forty percent!”

  “Helm, hold her steady. Weapons, keep firing all forward tubes.”

  “Launching mine spreaders,” Lieutenant Rogal responded. “Firing all forward tubes.”

  High above the planet Corinair, two black-hulled destroyers, both trimmed with crimson stripes, charged toward the Avendahl. Four jump flashes, spread apart equally to form the four points of a square, appeared in the path of the onrushing warships. Seconds later, several dozen flashes in the same positions as the first four, followed by a spread of more than a hundred, all of them spread out in a precise pattern across the path of the approaching destroyers.

  The destroyers opened fire on the field of mines deployed before them, in the hopes of clearing a safe path through the wall of explosive devices. One by one, the devices were blown apart by the enemy destroyers’ point-defenses, but as the warships drew nearer, the devices sensed the enemy vessels and detonated.

  Brilliant flashes from tiny antimatter warheads formed together to create a wall of white light. The charging destroyers struck the blinding barrier, causing their forward shields to overload. Shield emitters all over the bows of both ships exploded, unable to accommodate the tremendous amount of energy.

  But when the antimatter flash faded a few seconds later, the two destroyers were still advancing toward the Avendahl.

  “Both destroyers have lost their forward shields,” the Avendahl’s sensor officer reported.

  “Another round of jump missiles on those destroyers,” Commander Golan ordered. “Where are those other three ships?”

  “I don’t have them on my screens,” the weapons officer replied.

  “They must have jumped away just after we did,” Commander Hyam realized.

  “They’ll be back,” the commander grumbled. “Cahnis, any ID on them yet?”

  “Negative, sir,” the sensor officer replied.

  “Are you sure they’re not Takaran?”

  “Yes, sir,” the sensor officer assured him.

  “Firing jump missiles,” the weapons officer announced. “Continuing fire on the battleship directly ahead of us.”

  “I’ve checked them against all known ships from the Pentaurus sector,” the sensor officer continued.

  “Direct hits!” the weapons officer exclaimed.

  “Confirmed!” the sensor officer added. “Both destroyers have taken multiple hits. One of them has lost main power and maneuvering, the other is tur
ning away.”

  “Another round, Mister Rogal,” the commander ordered.

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Captain, the battleship has lost her forward shields as well.”

  “Forward torpedo tubes are near critical heat!” the systems officer warned.

  “Main rail guns on the battleship, Mister Rogal,” the commander ordered. “Tear that bastard apart!”

  “Locking jump missiles on the destroyers, bringing main rail guns on the battleship,” the weapons officer responded.

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Permon called. “Corinairan defense reports enemy troop ships and fighter escorts jumping into lower atmosphere all over the planet!”

  “Scramble all fighters,” Commander Golan ordered. “Comms, contact Ranni Enterprises and tell them to evacuate all key personnel.”

  “Jump missiles away,” the weapons officer reported.

  “Battleship is taking heavy damage from our rail guns,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported from the sensor station. “She’s turning to starboard and powering up her jump emitters.”

  “Forward torpedoes!” Commander Golan shouted. “Don’t let her get away!”

  “Direct hits on the destroyers,” the sensor operator reported.

  “The forward torpedoes are at critical…”

  “I said fire!”

  “Firing!”

  Commander Golan watched the forward view screen as eight mark five plasma torpedoes left his ship, headed for the enemy battleship. Just as the enemy ship’s jump fields solidified over her hull and began to build into a jump flash, all eight balls of red-orange plasma slammed into her unprotected forward sections. The battleship’s nose blew apart, sending a wave of internal explosions deeper into her hull. When the wave reached the battleship’s midsection, the rest of the ship blew apart in one massive, yellow-white explosion, sending debris spreading out in all directions.

  “The battleship is destroyed!” the sensor officer reported.

  “What about those destroyers?” the commander asked.

  “They have been defeated as well.”

  “I’ve lost plasma torpedo generators three and five,” the systems officer reported.

  “Incoming message from Ranni Enterprises,” the comms officer announced. “It’s Doran Montrose, their chief of security. He is requesting an evac shuttle for Mister Hiller, and Doctors Sato and Megel.”

  “Hiller?” Commander Hyam asked, unfamiliar with the name.

  “Deliza Ta’Akar’s husband,” Commander Golan reminded him. “I thought they had their own shuttle?”

  “Mister Montrose says that Miss Ta’Akar has the shuttle and is overdue to return,” the comms officer explained.

  “Launch a rescue shuttle,” the commander ordered. “And tell Mister Montrose to be ready.”

  “Where did those fighters come from?” Commander Hyam asked. He turned to the sensor officer. “Did that battleship launch any fighters or troop shuttles?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I think I know where they came from,” Commander Golan said. “Helm, jump us around to the far side of Corinair. Maximum orbit.”

  “They wanted us on this side of Corinair,” Commander Hyam realized. His brow furrowed as he continued to think. “Whose ships are these?”

  “I don’t know,” Commander Golan admitted, “but they knew enough about us to keep us on the opposite side of their invasion force.”

  The shuttle’s windows turned opaque as the tiny ship completed its last jump.

  Deliza looked up from her data pad, noticing that the window had cleared and was not turning opaque again. “I guess we’re home. Time to call in our order. I want to start eating the moment we hit the conference room.”

  “You and me both,” Biarra agreed.

  The shuttle veered sharply to port. Although the ship had inertial dampeners that were capable of protecting the occupants of the shuttle from most maneuvers, they could still feel the force of the extremely abrupt turn.

  Deliza grabbed her armrests to steady herself. “What is it?” she called to Loki in the cockpit. It wasn’t the first time they had been forced to make a sudden maneuver just after jumping into a heavily-populated system, despite the use of standard arrival zones used by most of the populated systems of the Pentaurus cluster.

  “Get secure!” Loki demanded.

  Deliza immediately rose from her seat and moved forward toward the cockpit.

  “I told you to get secure,” Loki said impatiently, noticing Deliza entering the cockpit.

  “I am,” Deliza insisted as she squeezed between Loki and the copilot’s seat and sat down in the right seat. “I’m just doing it in here. What’s going on?”

  “Look,” Loki said, pointing at the screen in the middle of the console.

  Deliza studied the screen, her eyes narrowing. “Why are all those ship icons red?”

  “Red means hostile,” Loki replied.

  “Isn’t that one the Avendahl?” Deliza said, pointing at the large blue icon.

  “Avendahl, Avendahl. This is Ranni One, holding two million kilometers from Corinair. We show multiple unidentified hostiles. Are you engaged?”

  “Ranni One, Avendahl. We are under attack by at least six ships. Three have been destroyed. Corinair is being invaded.”

  “Oh, my God!” Deliza exclaimed.

  “Suggest you remain clear.”

  “We have to get to the office,” Deliza insisted. “Yanni… Your wife and baby… Michi and Turi…”

  “Avendahl, Ranni One, negative. We have primaries on the surface that must be evacuated. Requesting safe approach recommendations.”

  “Negative, Ranni One. Stay clear. We have a rescue shuttle on its way to your offices now.”

  Doran, Yanni, and the others all crouched down behind the blast wall that protected passersby from the thrust of landing and departing shuttles. Flashes appeared all over the sky in groups of three to six every other minute or so.

  “Are they ours?” Yanni wondered as he stared at the flashes of light in the evening skies over Aitkenna.

  “Some of them,” Doran replied, “but not many.”

  Yanni watched as an enemy fighter dove toward them, with two of the Avendahl’s fighters in close pursuit. The lead fighter opened fire, sending red, needle-like beams toward the diving fighter. As it did so, two more enemy fighters appeared behind flashes of blue-white light, and quickly opened fire. The two fighters of Takaran design came apart, and what was left fell to the surface.

  Yanni and Doran ducked as the diving enemy fighter pulled level and flew directly over them at a low altitude. Yanni looked at Doran with his eyes wide. “Wasn’t that…?”

  “A Jung fighter.” Doran finished for him. “It sure as hell looked like one.”

  “But I thought the Jung didn’t have jump technology.”

  “Last I heard, they didn’t.”

  Another flash occurred nearby, followed by the familiar thunderous tearing sound. Doran turned and spotted one of the Avendahl’s jump shuttles on a rapid approach to their position. Then three more flashes appeared above and behind the descending shuttle.

  “Montrose, Rescue One Five,” the pilot’s voice crackled over Doran’s comm-set. “Inbound for Ranni pad. Wheels down in two. Stand by for extraction.”

  Doran stared at the three new arrivals, trying to discern their shapes in the darkness. One of them passed directly in front of the rising moon, casting a perfect silhouette. His expression changed, and he tapped his comm-set. “Rescue One Five, Montrose! Three bandits, five high! Suggest you…”

  It was too late. Streaks of reddish-orange lashed out from two of the three enemy fighters, striking the descending jump shuttle high on the starboard side. The shuttle’s aft engine pod exploded, taking a portion of the shuttle’s hull with it. With the lift suddenly removed from the back corner of the ship, the shuttle’s back-right corner dropped rapidly, and the shuttle rolled to its right as it entered a sharp, uncoordinated right turn. The shuttle spi
raled down, smoke pouring from its aft, then clipped a building, and fell the last twenty meters to the street below, exploding on impact.

  Yanni stared in horror, frozen in fear.

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” Doran insisted, as more troop ships appeared behind flashes of blue-white light.

  “They’ll send another shuttle, right?” Lael asked nervously. “Shouldn’t we be here when…”

  “When it gets shot down?” Doran said. “Those are troop ships,” he said, pointing at the flashes of light in the sky. “We have to get someplace safe!”

  “Where?” Doctor Sato wondered.

  “Someplace outside of the city!” Doran said. “Someplace that the Jung are not likely to be!”

  “Jump complete,” the Avendahl’s helmsman reported.

  Commander Golan discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. Jumping a heavily-damaged ship was a risky move.

  “Multiple contacts,” the sensor officer announced. “Very large, but only point-defenses.”

  “Troop ships,” Commander Hyams surmised. “You were right.”

  “Lieutenant Rogal, target those troop ships,” Commander Golan ordered.

  “Flight reports Rescue One Five is down,” the communications officer reported.

  “Targets acquired,” the weapons officer announced. “Firing!”

  Commander Golan glanced at one of the many view screens on the overhead in front of him, quickly picking out the view from one of their main rail gun’s cameras. Brilliant balls of red-orange plasma slammed into the target’s shields, turning them an opaque amber. As more plasma charges impacted their shields, the amber color intensified, until finally the shields failed. Pieces of the enemy troop ship began to break off as the slugs from the Avendahl’s massive rail guns slammed into her hull. Debris spread out on the opposite side of the target, as the kinetic energy of the slug impacts sent debris flying away and downrange. After a few seconds, the rail gun slugs found sensitive elements deeper inside the troop ship’s hull, and secondary explosions ignited. The target came apart, and a wave of satisfaction swept over the commander.