Ep.#14 - A Line in the Sand (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Nathan replied.

  “The captain has shown a remarkable improvement in hand-eye coordination, situational awareness, and tactical analysis capabilities,” General Telles pointed out. “His physical abilities have improved as well.”

  “Yes, that’s all true, but…”

  “Do you have a better plan?” Nathan asked Jessica.

  “Yes! Have them make me a caste leader! I’ll kick his fucking ass!”

  “I mean you no insult, Lieutenant Commander,” General Telles began. “Your combat skills are quite impressive, but Lord Dusahn is more skilled, and more experienced. Furthermore, he has a considerable strength advantage.”

  “Strength is meaningless,” Jessica argued.

  “At times, yes, but not at all times. I am not even certain that I could defeat him.”

  “Well now you’re really causing me to question my decision,” Nathan admitted.

  “Good, because it’s crazy,” Jessica insisted. “Have them make the general a caste leader!”

  “It has to be me,” Nathan insisted.

  “Why?” Jessica demanded.

  “Because he is Na-Tan,” General Telles explained.

  “Oh come on!”

  “He’s right,” Cameron realized, not happy about it.

  “You too?” Jessica wondered, surprised by Cameron’s agreement.

  “That’s why you came and got me, isn’t it?” Nathan challenged. “So that I would inspire others to join our cause?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Rather than having this debate now, how about we wait until we’re certain this idea is viable,” Nathan suggested, cutting her off. “After all, we are basing this on the words of an enemy officer.”

  “A dead enemy officer,” Jessica pointed out.

  “How do you intend to verify his claims?” Cameron wondered.

  “By asking someone who should know,” Nathan replied. “Gerard Bowden.”

  “Uh, he’s not here,” Jessica reminded him.

  Nathan looked at Cameron.

  “When we left, he was still at Fleet Intelligence,” Cameron told him.

  “Commander Bowden is considered the leading expert on Jung history and customs,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda said. “I interned with him for two years before coming to the Aurora. If anyone would know, it would be him.”

  “Any chance he’ll talk to us?” Nathan asked the lieutenant commander.

  Lieutenant Commander Shinoda sighed, thinking for a moment. “I’m not sure, to be honest. It took him years to prove himself to command. A few of Galiardi’s key advisors worried that he was a Jung plant meant to mislead us.”

  “How loyal do you think he is to Galiardi?” Cameron asked.

  “I know he doesn’t like the admiral, but other than that…”

  “Any chance he’d talk with you?” Nathan asked.

  “He knows I’m on the Aurora,” the lieutenant commander replied, “which technically makes me a traitor. So your guess is as good as mine.”

  “So he’d be no more likely to talk to you than to me, then,” Nathan surmised.

  “Probably not.”

  “You just talked yourself out of a trip home, Lieutenant Commander,” Nathan replied.

  “Probably for the best.”

  “You’re going back to Earth?” Jessica asked, again surprised.

  “We’re going back to Earth,” Nathan corrected.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, it would be a good idea to talk to Bowden, first,” Cameron admitted. “If only to be certain that this insane plan is even feasible.”

  “Precisely what I was thinking,” Nathan agreed.

  “You’re obviously going to need the jump sub. Unfortunately, we’re down to only four Reapers and two boxcars, and a jump sub won’t fit in a Ranni shuttle.”

  “That’s why I’m going to SilTek,” Nathan replied. “I’m going ship shopping.”

  “Oh, please tell me I’m going with you,” Vladimir begged.

  “Sorry, Vlad, you’re needed here,” Nathan told him. “Besides, I’ve got a more qualified shopping guide in mind.”

  “I know you don’t mean me,” Jessica stated.

  “No, but you’re going as well.” Nathan looked around the room. “Any questions?”

  “Any chance we can talk you out of this?” Cameron wondered.

  “None,” Nathan replied as he rose. “Jess, we’re wheels up in one hour. Cam, you have command while I’m gone.”

  “Great,” Cameron replied.

  * * *

  Lord Dusahn wiped the blood from his dagger, the same one he had used to kill his brothers long ago, as he stared down at the body of his minister of finance. Once he was satisfied with the blade’s cleanliness, he sheathed it at his side. “Remove him,” he instructed the guards at the doors of his conference room as he returned to his seat. He looked around the room, measuring the shocked expressions of his advisers and ministers. “Does anyone else wish to tell me something cannot be done?”

  General Sourn, the eldest in the room, was the first to speak. “I have been alive too long to worry about meeting your blade, my lord. I shall only tell you what I believe to be the truth. If that earns me your wrath, so be it.”

  “Then you miss my point, as usual, my dear general,” Lord Dusahn told him. “I did not kill him because he told me what he believed to be true, but because he was unable to see any outcome but failure. I have no use for those who see only limitations.”

  “Limitations are a reality, my lord,” General Sourn replied. “Unpleasant though they may be, I believe you know this to be true.”

  Lord Dusahn brushed the old general’s comments aside. Sourn was of the same old guard as General Hesson. He too had served Griogair’s father, and his father’s older brothers before him. As a child, Griogair had revered his father. As an adult, he had come to understand why the Dusahn had failed to overthrow the Jung leadership castes and had also failed to establish a new empire after centuries of roaming the galaxy. Limitations. Lack of conviction. Lack of inspiration.

  “What I know,” Lord Dusahn continued, “is that no great empire has ever risen beyond their limitations without first believing that those realities are but mere challenges to be overcome.”

  General Sourn looked down, being careful not to let his disdain for his leader’s arrogance become too obvious. “We have three destroyers, all of them well past their prime. A half dozen gunships and about sixty octo-fighters. Our ground forces number less than ten thousand. The only thing preventing the Karuzari Alliance from seizing the system is the Chekta protocol.”

  “Precisely.”

  “These are the limitations I refer to. Minister Mogen was correct. Our best hope of survival is a strong economy, and that will be even more difficult now that our primary source of food no longer exists.”

  “Are you questioning my decision to use Ancot to send a message to the Karuzari?” Lord Dusahn asked.

  “No, my lord. I am merely making statements of fact. This system has more than enough arable surface to provide sustenance for the masses, but production facilities must be established in new locations, and quickly. Hungry people will not work, and starving people will riot. If this happens, the results will be the same as if the Karuzari were foolish enough to test your resolve by invading. We must care for the empire we have, first. Only when it is strong can we look to expand once again.”

  Lord Dusahn flashed a sinister smile. “It is wise of you to sit at the far end of the table from me, General Sourn.” He pulled his knife from its sheath and laid it on the table before him, then slid it toward the center with enough force to push it beyond his reach. He then looked at the eyes of his staff, noting the fear in their faces. These men were not true leaders. They were merely men who thought the
y were infallible but had yet to be executed for their failures. “Perhaps now, someone will be strong enough to rise above these perceived limitations and suggest a course of action that will restore our dominance in this sector.” Again he surveyed their expressions, waiting for one of them to speak. The one who did was not the one he had expected.

  “My lord,” Lieutenant Jexx began, his voice cracking with uncertainty. “If I may?”

  Lord Dusahn looked at the older men in the room, a look of disappointment on his face. “A lieutenant is the first among you to speak?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Go ahead, Lieutenant. Speak without fear.”

  Lieutenant Jexx swallowed hard, unsure of himself. “Perhaps we are looking at things the wrong way.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “General Sourn speaks of limitations and their realities. While it is true that they exist, as you so wisely state, they are only challenges—obstacles yet to be overcome. The reality is that we have traded places with the Karuzari. We are now the ones who are struggling to survive. Perhaps we should stop thinking like an empire and start thinking like a rebellion. Perhaps we should use the Karuzari’s own tactics as our guide?”

  Lord Dusahn studied the young lieutenant, his brow furrowed in concentration, his gaze piercing the junior officer’s eyes. “Elaborate,” he finally said.

  The lieutenant swallowed again. “We start our own guerrilla campaign. We strike quickly and often. We harass their defenses, giving them no time to build, no time to rest, no time to feel comfortable. Most importantly, we give them no time to engage us. We keep them on the defensive.”

  “To what end?”

  “To distract them from our true objectives,” the lieutenant explained.

  “And what might those objectives be?” Lord Dusahn asked, growing impatient.

  “First, we must maintain our presence in the cluster, to make sure that the nearby systems understand that they are still under our control. Second, we must establish regular trade with systems in the Pentaurus sector.”

  “You want to conduct trade with worlds we once conquered?” Lord Dusahn questioned.

  “Technically, we never gave up control of those worlds,” the lieutenant pointed out. “Nor did we exert any level of Dusahn rule over them, other than taxation. They all remained self-governing, with nothing more than a small outpost of our own, which, I might add, are still in operation. All those worlds are still members of the Dusahn Empire, we just have yet to overhaul them to fit our needs. We only reduced the frequency that our ships visited those systems in favor of other priorities. I suggest we continue to let them govern themselves and start exporting goods to them in exchange for goods we need. Improve their overall profits and quality of life, so to speak.”

  “That will make us appear weak,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal.

  “With all due respect, my lord, at the moment, we are weak. When one is injured, one must have time to heal. An empire is no different. We need to rebuild our defenses, grow our forces, and build new warships. All of this requires resources.”

  “We have all the resources we need in this system,” Lord Dusahn argued. “We do not need to go crawling to our former subjects.”

  “It is not their resources that we need, my lord, it is their loyalty. This can be purchased two ways: by threat of punishment, or by profit and security. Profit and security are much better motivators.”

  Lord Dusahn glared at Lieutenant Jexx. After a moment he said. “Is that all?”

  “Almost,” the lieutenant replied. “We must also discover the source of the Karuzari Alliance’s sudden increase in technology…and eliminate it.”

  Lord Dusahn examined the others in the room as he considered the young officer’s words. “Clear the room,” he stated calmly. “Everyone except for Commander Jexx.”

  * * *

  Dylan opened the door and his jaw dropped. “Captain.” He looked around, half expecting to see guards standing by to take him away. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Nathan replied. “Did you?”

  “Uh…”

  “Relax, Dylan, I’m kidding,” Nathan assured him, noticing the young man’s nervous expression. “May I come in?”

  “Uh, sure,” he replied, stepping aside. He watched as Nathan entered and sat down at the desk.

  “Studying the Aurora’s specs?” Nathan asked, noticing the ship’s schematics on his view screen.

  “Uh…I was just trying to figure out ways that your AI could tie into more noncritical systems, to be of more use to you. I can stop if I’m not supposed to be…”

  “It’s okay,” Nathan assured him. “Close the door and have a seat. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Dylan looked uncertain. “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” he said, shutting the door and heading for his bunk.

  “Your character in the sim…”

  “That wasn’t me,” Dylan interrupted. “You know that, right? It was just based on me.”

  “I know. You said, I mean he said, that he knew everything about the XK series ships. Is that true? Do you know everything about them?”

  “Sure,” Dylan replied, relaxing a bit. “Well, maybe not everything, but more than most people. Probably more than anyone. Except maybe a sales droid.”

  “What about other ships?” Nathan wondered. “Do you know about all of SilTek’s ships?”

  “I suppose so,” Dylan replied. “Although I have a lot more experience with the XKs. I mean, virtual experience, of course. To be honest, I’ve never actually set foot in one. Hell, I never even left SilTek until this assignment.” Dylan looked crossways at Nathan, his curiosity piqued. “Why are you asking me this?”

  “I need a ship.”

  “You have a ship,” Dylan replied. “A big one, and a slick one, at that.”

  “Yes, the Aurora is a very good ship.”

  “I mean, the mashup of technologies is phenomenal…”

  “Unfortunately, she is also in need of repair, and even if she wasn’t, I can no longer take her wherever I wish. She must stay close to the worlds she is sworn to protect. Especially now.”

  “I can see how that might be a problem,” Dylan agreed. “So what do you need from me?”

  “Advice.”

  “From me? About what?”

  “Ships,” Nathan replied.

  “Which ships?”

  “SilTek ships.”

  “Why SilTek ships?” Dylan wondered.

  “Because they’d probably be quicker and easier for your people to modify to fit our needs.”

  “Good point,” Dylan nodded.

  “So can you help me out?”

  “My friends are never going to believe this,” Dylan laughed. “What kind of ship are you looking for?”

  “Well,” Nathan said, turning to the view screen and typing something on the keyboard. “Something like this.”

  Dylan rose from the bunk, moving closer to the screen. “The See-eye-eye-ki?”

  “Yes, but it’s pronounced Say-key.”

  “Interesting ship,” Dylan said, examining the general specs. “Kind of outdated, though. She doesn’t even have grav-lift systems.”

  “She was a good ship, though,” Nathan recalled fondly.

  “Was?” Dylan asked, sitting back down. “What happened to her?”

  “Long story,” Nathan replied. “Does SilTek have anything like her?”

  “Not anything that looks like her,” Dylan replied. “Grav-lift systems do away with the need for low-drag designs and aerodynamics. But I’m assuming you’re not talking about looks.”

  “No, I’m thinking more about size and utility. Maybe even something a little larger than the Seiiki. And we’ll need to be able to arm her. Anything come to mind?”


  Dylan leaned forward, studying the specs along the side of the Seiiki’s general data page on the view screen. Well, the Toresh shuttles are about the same size, maybe a bit smaller. I’m not sure. But you said you wanted something a little bigger, right?”

  “Preferably.”

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said, thinking. “Maybe a Lorenza-class? They’re definitely bigger. They’ve got a ton of cargo space inside. But you probably want something that handles better than that. Lorenzas are flying pigs, and their engine placement makes them impossible to maintain while under way. That’s why I always used the XKs in Night Runner.”

  “There really is a VR game called Night Runner?” Nathan wondered.

  “Oh yeah. I’ve been playing it since I was about five. That’s how I know so much about spaceships and their systems.”

  “I see,” Nathan replied, thinking. “What about the XK? That’s the one we used in the sim to escape SilTek, right?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Seemed like a decent ship.”

  “They’re great ships, but they’re nothing like that,” Dylan insisted, pointing at the Seiiki on the screen.

  “I don’t know,” Nathan said. “I didn’t get a chance to look around her much, but best I can remember, she handled okay, and she was larger than the Seiiki.”

  “A little larger, yes.”

  “And they already have jump drives, right?”

  “Yes, but the XKs are pretty old designs,” Dylan warned. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re still great ships, at least the ones that have been updated and properly maintained. But we’re talking old, here.”

  “How old?” Nathan asked.

  “The first ones were built over a hundred years ago. They don’t even make them anymore.”

  “When did they stop production?”

  “About seventy years ago, I think.”

  “Are there a lot of them still in service?”

  “A few dozen, I suppose. Even more of them in the boneyard.”

  “The boneyard?”

  “It’s where they park ships that are past their prime. They button them up tight, with all their systems intact in case they need them later. But that never happens. Eventually, everything that goes to the boneyard gets disassembled and recycled.”