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

by Ryk Brown

  “Position?” the captain inquired from his command chair in the middle of the Tanna’s bridge.

  “One light minute ahead of the targets, starboard of their course,” the navigator replied.

  “Lieutenant Gissel, turn forty-five to port and pitch up thirty degrees,” the captain instructed. “Ensign Levitt, queue up a three-light-minute jump.”

  “Forty-five to port, and thirty up,” the helmsman acknowledged.

  “Three light minutes, aye,” the navigator followed.

  “Comms, dispatch a comm-drone and let Alliance Command know that we have been fired upon and are engaging all three enemy ships, with intent to destroy,” the captain ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Ensign Nwosu replied from the communications station.

  “Course change complete,” Lieutenant Gissel reported from the helm.

  “Mister Levitt, jump us out three light minutes. Then plot a return course. I want to make the next run on the cruiser, passing over her fore-aft, port-starboard.”

  “Aye, sir,” the navigator replied. “Jumping ahead three light minutes.”

  “Comm-drone is away,” the communications officer reported.

  The blue-white jump flash momentarily filled their main view screens once again.

  “Coming about,” the helmsman reported.

  A tiny smile crept to the corner of Captain Nash’s mouth. He knew that his helmsman enjoyed putting the pressure on her new partner, who had yet to finish plotting the new attack course. Lieutenant Gissel had been putting the young ensign on the spot whenever she had the chance, since he had joined the crew a few months ago. He had yet to fail at his task. However, this was his first time under real fire.

  In fact, other than the Tanna’s XO and her chief engineer, Captain Nash was the only one aboard who had seen actual combat…and plenty of it. Most of his crew had been reassigned to other destroyers as they had come on line over the years. The steady flow of fresh recruits from the Alliance Training Academy on Earth had presented a challenge for the captain and his executive officer, requiring constant drills and reviews to ensure that their constantly changing crews were ready for action. Hopefully, today, those efforts would prove their worth.

  “Don’t let her rattle you, Ensign,” the captain advised in his most reassuring tone.

  “New course is ready,” the navigator quickly replied.

  Lieutenant Gissel peeked over her left shoulder at her captain, a mix of pride and satisfaction showing on her face.

  Captain Nash smiled back at his chief pilot.

  “Coming onto new attack course now,” she announced as her attention returned to her console.

  “Attack jump is plotted and ready,” Ensign Levitt added in a relieved tone.

  “Ready on the plasma cannons,” the captain ordered. “Full power, triplets. Main guns on the frigates.”

  “Full power triplets on the cruiser, main guns on the frigates,” Commander Poschay confirmed.

  Amongst all the new faces on the ship, his second in command and chief tactical officer, Commander Poschay, was one of the only two that had been with him since he had taken command of the Tanna over seven years ago. Once a scrub ensign serving as the navigator on what had then been a frigate, Daryl Poschay had cross-trained in every department and rose quickly through the ranks, eventually replacing the Tanna’s last XO when he had departed to take command of the newly commissioned destroyer, Nagoya.

  Commander Poschay’s efforts had paid off, as had Captain Nash’s encouragement. The commander had been an excellent executive and tactical officer, having served in the position for more than a year now. Unfortunately, Captain Nash knew that the commander would be taken from him in less than a year, when the next round of destroyers were ready to leave the Tau Ceti shipyards.

  “Execute attack jump,” Captain Nash instructed.

  “Executing attack jump,” the navigator replied. A moment later, the screens filled with the subdued blue-white flash, as the destroyer instantly advanced nearly fifty-four million kilometers along its course. “Jump complete.”

  “Pitching down,” Lieutenant Gissel announced from the Tanna’s helm.

  “Mains locked on the frigates and auto-tracking. Opening fire,” Commander Poschay reported. “Tubes coming to bear on the cruiser. Full power triplets, firing… Now.”

  The view screens flashed red-orange three times in rapid succession, as three pairs of plasma torpedoes left the destroyer’s tubes.

  “Frigate one is turning to port,” the sensor officer reported. “She’s accelerating.”

  “Direct impacts on their dorsal shields,” the commander reported from the tactical station directly behind the captain.

  “Cruiser’s dorsal shields are down to fifty percent,” the sensor officer added. “Frigate two is also breaking off and accelerating. Turning to starboard and pitching down.”

  “They’re trying to spread out,” Commander Poschay commented, “to get some maneuvering room.”

  “Which means they plan on standing and fighting, instead of slipping back into FTL as soon as their emitters come back online,” the captain added.

  “All targets are locking rail guns on us,” Ensign Bottrell warned. “They’re firing.”

  “Evasive pattern delta seven,” Captain Nash ordered.

  “Delta seven, aye…”

  “Escape jump, three minutes, as soon as the maneuver is complete,” the captain added.

  “Three minute jump after…”

  “Tactical; jump missiles, frigate two. Launch when ready.”

  “Two jump missiles on frigate two. Launching!” the commander replied.

  “Delta seven, complete,” Lieutenant Gissel reported with her usual calm voice.

  “Hold your jump one,” the captain instructed, knowing his navigator was about to execute the escape jump.

  “Missiles away,” the commander reported.

  “Jump,” Captain Nash ordered.

  “Jumping; forward three,” Ensign Levitt replied as the jump flash filled the view screens again.

  “Helm, turn us parallel to the cruiser’s course track, opposite direction. Once on course, jump one minute out, come about one-eighty, and jump us directly beneath the target, stand off at two kilometers…and make sure our tubes are on her when we come out of the jump.”

  “Aye, sir,” the lieutenant replied.

  “Captain, I suggest we concentrate our fire on the target’s dorsal shields,” the commander urged. “They are down to fifty percent, after all.”

  “Which means her captain will shunt all power to those shields, expecting us to strike where we think she is weakest,” the captain explained.

  “Yes, sir,” the commander replied.

  “Did you manage to get any damage readings during the last pass?” Captain Nash asked his sensor officer.

  “Yes, sir. No damage to either frigate. Minor weakening of their shields. The cruiser’s status was unchanged.”

  “They’ve beefed up their shields,” the captain observed. “We used to be able to take them down with just a few torpedoes.”

  “Turn complete,” Lieutenant Gissel reported from the helm.

  “You don’t suppose that’s why they’re making a run at us?” Commander Poschay commented.

  “Pitching up,” the lieutenant added as she brought the destroyer’s nose up smartly.

  “And risk a KKV strike against their homeworld?” Captain Nash scoffed. “Unlikely.”

  “Unless they’re not worried about a strike,” the commander said thoughtfully.

  Captain Nash pondered the commander’s comments a moment, then turned to his sensor officer. “Mister Bottrell, what are the chances the Jung could have a shield around their homeworld that we wouldn’t know about?”

  “Pretty much impossible, sir,” the ensign assured him. “The emissions would be enormous. There would be no way to hide that from our recon drones.”

  “That’s what I thought,” the captain replied. “Stand b
y on all tubes, Commander. Same as before. Full power triplets on the cruiser, and don’t stop firing until we jump away.”

  “And the frigates?” the commander asked.

  “If they’re still around, feel free to launch jump missiles at them.”

  “Aye, sir. All tubes are ready, and jump missiles are loading.”

  “Take us in again, Mister Levitt,” the captain ordered.

  “Aye, sir.”

  Captain Nash watched as the main view screen again filled with the momentary blue-white jump flash. When it cleared, the Jung cruiser hovered above, her ventral side facing them. Even from two kilometers away, the three-kilometer-long warship filled their view screen.

  “Jump complete.”

  “All tubes are locked on target,” the commander announced from the tactical station. “Firing all tubes.”

  More red-orange flashes of light on the main view screen announced the departure of round after round of plasma torpedoes. The enemy cruiser’s shields glowed a pale yellow as the charges struck them. With each successive round, the intensity of the yellow glow increased.

  “Any other contacts?” Captain Nash asked his sensor officer.

  “Negative sir,” Ensign Bottrell replied.

  The Jung cruiser’s shields finally gave up against the continuing bombardment, dropping with a wave of exploding emitters along the enemy ship’s hull.

  “Target’s shields are down,” Ensign Bottrell announced.

  Two more rounds of plasma torpedoes struck the enemy ship’s hull, breaking her open. The enemy ship broke in half across her midship line, after which internal secondary explosions blasted the rest of her apart.

  “Cease fire,” Captain Nash ordered, ending the assault. He stared at the view screen as the Jung cruiser continued to break up, rocked by one explosion after another. Ten seconds later, it was over. The massive warship was gone, leaving nothing but a spreading field of debris in every size and shape imaginable. The massive explosions, and the subsequent fires they had caused, quickly vanished as they were robbed of oxygen by the icy vacuum of deep space.

  After all that Captain Nash had seen, after all the friends he had watched die years ago at the hands of the Jung Empire, the destruction of the cruiser had been surprisingly unsatisfying.

  “I’m picking up one FTL signature, about two million kilometers to port,” Ensign Bottrell reported.

  “I’m betting you’ll pick up another one on the other side in a few moments,” the captain muttered darkly.

  “Am I missing something?” Commander Poschay wondered. “Aren’t the frigates supposed to protect the cruiser?”

  Captain Nash thought for a moment. The commander was right. The fact that both frigates chose to cut and run the moment their FTL field emitters had come back online, and leave the cruiser to fend for itself, was troubling to say the least. “Ensign Nwosu, dispatch another comm-drone to command. Update the situation, and let them know we will be attempting to reacquire the remaining frigates.”

  Ensign Nwosu looked at his captain, noting the concern on his face. “Aye, sir.”

  * * *

  Jessica and General Telles walked confidently out of the hangar toward the waiting combat jump shuttle that sat twenty meters away, engines idling.

  “It is not necessary for you to go on this flight,” the general said as they walked. “The flight crew is quite capable of transmitting the instructions to the comm-drone.”

  “I’m not going because of the drone, Lucius, and you know it,” Jessica reminded him. “If we do make contact with Dumar, or Montrose, or anyone else from our days with the Alliance, they may need confirmation that it is us. At least, if they’re smart, they will. Without any pre-established codes, it’s going to require shared personal knowledge.”

  “I am not in disagreement with you on that point of fact, Jessica. I am merely pointing out that none of us has any duty or honor-bound commitment here.”

  Jessica stopped in mid stride and stared at the general. “Well, that’s an odd statement coming from a Ghatazhak.”

  “Our new life has required us to be more pragmatic. You of all people should know this.”

  “So you don’t think we should help them?” Jessica challenged.

  “I am not saying that we shouldn’t. I am merely pointing out that we must consider our long-term survival. Getting wrapped up in this conflict may not be a good idea.”

  “I’m not planning on getting wrapped up in any conflicts, Lucius. I’m talking about rescuing our friends and their families.”

  “And that is the end of it?” This time it was the general on the offensive.

  “That’s the end of it,” she assured him.

  “I hope so,” General Telles replied, sounding unconvinced. “As we are ill-equipped for anything more than a simple extraction at this point. So, do not make any promises beyond that.”

  “Understood,” Jessica replied. She turned and continued walking, leaving the general standing alone, still ten meters from the jump shuttle. She tapped her comm-set as she approached the ship. “We good to go?” she asked over the jump shuttle’s intercom frequency.

  “Ready when you are, Lieutenant,” the pilot replied.

  Jessica climbed up into the shuttle through its wide side door between the fore and aft engine pods. “Let’s do it,” she called over her comm-set, taking her seat along the back of the shuttle’s utility bay.

  The shuttle’s engines began to spin up to full power, while the crew chief activated the door control. The door slid smoothly forward as the combat shuttle rose from the tarmac. Once closed, the door pulled inward and sealed.

  “Door secure,” the sergeant called out.

  “Cabin pressure is good. Jump to orbit is ready,” the copilot reported over the comm-sets from the cockpit.

  “Pitching up,” the pilot announced.

  The shuttle’s four, side-mounted engine pods began to swing aft, as the shuttle accelerated and climbed. Jessica could feel the force of the shuttle’s acceleration pushing her back in her seat.

  “Two minutes to jump altitude,” the copilot, Lieutenant Latfee, reported.

  “Are we going in and out, like the general said, or did you have something else in mind?” the sergeant asked Jessica.

  “Nothing fancy, Sarge. We jump in, transmit the instructions to the comm-drone, and send a message to Dumar. Then we jump out and wait for an hour before we jump back in to get an answer. Simple as that.”

  “Right,” the sergeant replied, looking unconvinced.

  “What?”

  “No offense, Jess, but things never go that smoothly when you’re involved.”

  “You noticed, huh?”

  “Relax, Torwell,” the pilot said. “This one’s a breeze.”

  “Jumping into the middle of a Jung-held system is a breeze? Since when?”

  “Don’t worry, Sarge,” Jessica said confidently. “I’m sure the general told your boss not to let me do anything crazy. I’m just a comm-operator on this one.”

  “Right,” the sergeant replied.

  Jessica smiled coyly at Sergeant Torwell, then turned to look out the window. She could see the city below shrinking as they climbed. Down there, her parents, her brothers and their families, and her adopted daughter, Ania, were all going about their daily lives, unaware of what was transpiring in the nearby Pentaurus sector.

  Her life had been good here. Training with the Ghatazhak was more intense than she ever could have imagined, and it involved far more discipline than she expected, but it had been just what she had needed after the war. The training gave her back what she had lost: her self-control. Although, at times the general wondered if it had worked as well as they both had hoped.

  “Jump to orbit in three…”

  More importantly, it had given little Ania a chance at a real life.

  “…two…”

  Therein lay the problem for Jessica.

  “…one…”

  No matter what the genera
l said, she was not going to let the Jung take that chance away from her.

  “…jumping.”

  One brush with death was enough, especially for a child. Jessica would not allow another.

  The windows of the combat jump shuttle cleared again, and the view outside changed to that of the planet Burgess below.

  “Jump series to Darvano, plotted and ready,” Lieutenant Latfee reported.

  “Everyone ready back there?” Commander Kainan asked from the pilot’s seat.

  Jessica glanced at the control panel for the portable comm-unit they had rigged into the shuttle’s communications systems, in order to task Ranni Enterprise’s jump comm-drone. The status screen showed that it was ready. She gave a nod to the sergeant sitting across from her.

  “We’re good back here,” the sergeant replied.

  “Jump series in three……two……one……jumping.”

  The windows turned opaque again to protect the occupants from the bright, blue-white light of the jump flashes. It was over one hundred and twelve light years from Sherma to Darvano, and even with the shuttle’s improved jump systems, it would take them more than an hour to reach their destination.

  Jessica tapped her helmet control, dropping her visor and darkening it. “You know the drill, Sarge,” she said as she moved her fingers to the comm-set controls. “Wake me when we get there,” she added, after which she turned off her comm-set and leaned back in her seat to take a nap.

  * * *

  “I’m not bitching,” Commander Ellison argued, “I’m venting.”

  “You’re bitching,” Captain Roselle insisted as he poured himself another cup of coffee. “You do so at least once a week, Marty.”

  “Well, I think I have a right to, don’t I? Kes, Ollie… Hell, even Jobu got a command.”

  “Big deal. Those new destroyers are so damned automated a monkey could command them. I’m telling you, Marty, they’re holding you for a Protector-class ship.”

  “Then why did they give the first one to Stettner? He doesn’t have anywhere near my experience.”

  “Galiardi needed to get a Koharan in command of that ship in order to get Tau Ceti on his side. It’s all politics.”

  “I fucking hate politics,” the commander sneered, pushing his plate aside. “They don’t belong in the military.”