by Ryk Brown
The aide sitting beside Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan tapped his caste’s designated representative on the shoulder, leaning in close for a private conversation. “Sir, the combination of our cloaking technology and jump drive technology would give us a significant advantage over the Sol Alliance. We would be unbeatable.”
Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan considered his assistant’s words. The Jung-Mogan caste had chosen to keep their cloaking technology a secret from the other castes. For too long, the isolationists had prevented them from achieving true glory. The defeat at the hands of the Sol Alliance and the destruction of Zhu-Anok had provided the isolationists with the political leverage they had needed to halt the expansion of the empire through conquest. Yet now they spoke of expansion, albeit peaceful. Such a reversal only served to confirm what the warrior castes had always suspected: that the isolationists were unfit to lead.
The words of Dom Jung-Viyakh echoed in his head. Especially one… Opportunity.
Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan rose. “The Jung-Mogan caste again requests the floor.”
Kor-Dom Borrol looked at the other seven members of the Leaders of Nine. Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan had already spoken, which meant that he could only speak again if the other members of the council allowed it. When no one objected, he yielded the floor. “Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan has the floor, but I caution you not to abuse the generosity of the members.”
Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan intentionally looked at the faces of the other eight members, lastly at Kor-Dom Borrol. “The words of Dom Jung-Viyakh have caused me to reconsider our position. The Jung-Mogan caste now supports the proposal put forth by the honorable Kor-Dom Borrol.”
Soft mumbles of uncertainty, accompanied by suspicious glances between council members, followed as Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan took his seat without another word. Kor-Dom Borrol was not fooled by Dom-Jaya Jung-Mogan’s sudden change of heart, nor did he believe that it was prompted by the words of Dom Jung-Viyakh. The Dom-Jaya was up to something, and Kor-Dom Borrol was confident that the good of the empire was not his primary motivation.
Dom Immoritt was the next to stand.
“Dom Immoritt has the floor,” Kor-Dom Borrol announced.
“I have but one question, my lord,” Dom Immoritt began. “What happens if Lord Dusahn defeats this challenger?”
“The challenge cannot be made until the new caste is created and that caste chooses its leader,” Kor-Dom Borrol explained. “This cannot happen until these unwarranted attacks by the Sol Alliance have stopped and Admiral Galiardi has been brought to justice under the laws of their world. This alone would be enough reason to accept the Karuzari proposal. The challenge itself will likely be pointless unless our ships are there to enforce it. To do so, we must be provided jump drive technology, lest it take years for the challenge to be viable, at which point it might be too late. If, as I suspect, the challenge fails and Lord Dusahn remains in power, we will destroy Takara and withdraw to Jung territory. Either way, the current threat will be eliminated, we will have jump drive technology, the Dusahn will be neutralized, and this empire will prevail.”
“The Karuzari will no doubt look upon this act unfavorably,” Dom Immoritt warned.
“I do not care what the Karuzari Alliance favors,” Kor-Dom Borrol stated. “I only care about the survival and the glory of the Jung Empire.” The kor-dom kept his eyes focused on Dom Immoritt, waiting for him to speak further. When the dom took his seat, Kor-Dom Borrol looked to the other members of the Leaders of Nine.
It was time.
“As kor-dom, I call on the Leaders of Nine to cast their votes on the Karuzari proposal.”
* * *
“That was fast,” Dylan commented as Josh dropped into the pilot’s seat on the left side of the Voss’s cockpit.
“In and out quick; no one gets hurt,” Josh replied. “Least of all, me.”
“But you were only gone like five minutes. It would’ve taken me that long just to get up the nerve to launch.”
“We can’t all have brass balls,” Nathan joked as he came up the stair ladder to the command deck.
“Looks like it will take us two jumps,” Dylan reported. “One to get into position, the other to jump into the cave.” Dylan swallowed hard. “And I can’t believe I just said that.”
Nathan reached up and flipped down the overhead comm-panel, making sure that the ship-wide intercom was active. “Attention all hands. Prepare for insertion jump.”
“I don’t get it,” Dylan said. “How do you all stay so calm? I mean, we’re about to jump two light years into a cave. Any normal person would be scared shitless.”
“Don’t worry, kid, you get used to it,” Nathan assured Dylan as he patted him on the shoulder. “Are both jumps plotted and ready?”
“First jump is loaded and ready, and we’re on course and speed,” Dylan replied.
“Execute the first jump,” Nathan instructed.
“Executing set-up jump,” Josh acknowledged as he reached for the jump sequencer. “Jumping in three……two……one……jumping.”
Now that the Voss had auto-darkening windows, the amount of light spilling into the interior of the ship was at more tolerable levels.
“Jump complete,” Josh reported.
“Updating position,” Dylan announced.
“Be sure you double-check our position,” Nathan told him.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Dylan replied.
Nathan tilted his head slightly upward as he leaned against the railing. “How are things looking, Vlad?” he called over the intercom.
“I’ve run full diagnostics and triple-checked everything,” Vladimir assured him. “The jump drive and all related systems are in perfect working order.”
“We are one point seven two seven five light years from Earth,” Dylan reported. “Come to new heading; one four zero; down fifteen point two five relative.”
“Turning to one four zero, down fifteen point two five relative,” Josh acknowledged as he initiated their course change.
“If it’s all the same to you, Josh, I’d prefer the AI took this one,” Nathan said.
“Hey, just cuz I got brass balls don’t mean I’m stupid.”
Nathan smiled.
“Course change complete,” Josh announced. “Straight and true on one four zero; fifteen point two five down relative. Handing over flight controls to the AI.” Josh pressed the auto-flight button on his control yoke, then released his grip. “AI has the controls.”
“I assume you entered the parameters of the cave?” Nathan asked Dylan.
“Trust me,” Dylan assured him, “the AI knows every rock, bump, and crack of that cave. I even uploaded the sensor data from Josh’s recon flight and instructed the AI to create a three-dimensional representation of the interior.”
“How long will it take us to decelerate to a safe insertion speed?” Nathan wondered.
“We’re barely moving now,” Josh insisted. “Hell, I can run faster than this.”
“Actually, we’re doing about fifty KPH right now,” Dylan corrected.
“Maybe we should slow down even more?” Nathan suggested.
“It’s going to take all available jump energy to get us there from this distance,” Josh explained. “If we slow down by even a few KPH, we’ll come out of the jump outside of the cave.”
“Which will increase our risk of detection by surveillance satellites,” Nathan deduced.
“Guarantee would be a better choice of words,” Josh corrected.
“Maybe we should coast longer,” Dylan suggested. “If we waited an hour, we might be able to slow down another ten KPH. We could bring our jump drive back up to full charge as well. That would get us even slower.”
“According to Cameron, we’ll be inside sensor range of the EDF’s perimeter patrols if we do,” Nathan warned. “There’s already a chance that one of them will detect our jump
, even from this far out. If they do, they can calculate our trajectory and determine our destination. That would mess up our mission real quick. Better that we don’t make it any easier for them.”
“Don’t worry, Cap’n,” Josh said. “I can slow us down before we run out of room.”
“And smack into a wall,” Dylan muttered to himself.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Nathan assured Dylan. “Shall we get this over with, gentlemen?”
“Updating final insertion jump parameters,” Dylan announced. “Update complete.”
Josh reached over and pressed the button to activate the automated jump sequencer. “Hang on to your shorts, everyone,” he warned over the intercom. “Insertion jump in three……”
* * *
The old man had been tracking his prey through the snow for hours. He had left his dacha before dawn, sure that his wife would disapprove of his desire to hunt.
But hunting was everything to him. Man against nature. Wits against instinct. It kept him alive and feeling young. The killing of a bear, a moose, or a snow sheep, and the subsequent ritual of turning it into sustenance, connected him to the forest. As long as he could hunt, he knew he was still alive.
But he also knew that he was getting on in years, and his senses were not what they had once been. Someday, his prey would get the better of him. However, the old man was not troubled by the thought. He could not think of a better way to meet his end than dying while doing the very thing that made him feel alive.
The snow had begun to fall again, threatening to erase the tracks that he had been following. He had already lost a previous shot that had taken him hours to set up. A strange little aircraft had buzzed overhead, skimming the treetops. He had cursed that pilot for alerting his prey. He lived where he did because it was as far away from technology as one could get.
As he trudged through the snow, he suddenly froze in his tracks. In the distance, something moved amongst the trees. Uncertain if it was the bear he had been tracking, he raised his rifle and removed the cover from its sights. Moving slowly so as not to alert his prey, he took aim, using the thumb buttons on his rifle stock to adjust the optics and increase his magnification. His digital rifle scope was one of the few technologies he had agreed to embrace, at the behest of his children. And it did help offset his failing eyesight.
He acquired his target, his pulse quickening. It was indeed the same bear he had been tracking. Just as he had expected, it had stayed close to the massive lava tube entrance, where bears often took shelter. Three days this week, he had snuck out to hunt and had brought home only excuses. Finally, he would have his kill.
The brown bear was much bigger than he had expected, which excited him further. His annual winter ritual was always the same. Take a bear first, since it provided the most meat. A moose was next, followed by at least two sheep. That was more than enough to get them through the Kamchatka winters.
The old man paused, taking note of the wind’s direction and strength. The scope could automatically adjust for wind and range, but to him that was cheating, and he kept those features disabled. He only wished the scope to make him able to see the same as he once had in his youth.
The old man braced himself, carefully adjusting his aim as the bear continued to move through the forest from right to left. The bear lumbered along, maintaining a consistent stride, which was to the hunter’s advantage. He slowly tracked the animal, keeping his crosshairs just forward of the bear’s chest, instinctively leading him just enough. The best shot, the one that would drop the bear quickly and with mercy, would be when his front leg nearest the hunter was forward, allowing him to put the projectile through lungs and heart. The taking of the bear’s life had to be done with respect.
He began counting off the bear’s strides. His finger moved to the safety, switching it off, then to the trigger. He tightened his finger, advancing the trigger to the edge of firing, pausing just long enough for that leg to again swing forward…
A flash of blue-white light appeared from the base of the mountain to his right, followed by a thunderous roar. The bear, startled by the sound, broke into a run, departing with surprising speed.
“Chort!” the old man cursed, switching his safety back on as he lowered his rifle, watching the bear run off.
A second later, something else caught his attention. He turned to his right, just as a shock wave of displaced air slammed into him, knocking him on his ass.
* * *
All three men were silent, their hearts racing as they stared at the rocky overhang less than a meter outside of the Voss’s cockpit windows.
“Told ya I could stop us in time,” Josh finally said.
Dylan turned his head slowly to the left, staring at Josh but saying nothing.
“What?”
“I never doubted you for a moment,” Nathan said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Except maybe those last ten seconds,” he added as he released his iron grip on the railing. “Are we going to be able to get out of here in one piece?”
“If we can fly in, we can fly out,” Josh assured him.
“We’re still hovering,” Dylan reminded them. “Like…half a meter above the deck.”
“I know,” Josh snapped.
“I’m just saying.”
“Do we have room to turn around?” Nathan wondered, looking out the overhead windows, noting how close the rocky ceiling was.
“We’ll have to back up about sixty meters first,” Dylan replied. “It’s pretty tight this deep in.”
“I can fly us out backwards as easily as I can forwards, Cap’n,” Josh insisted.
“Might I suggest I program an auto-flight maneuver for that?” Dylan suggested. “Not that I don’t trust you,” he immediately added to keep Josh quiet, “but because we might be under fire…or worse yet, I might be the one who has to fly us out.”
“Good thinking,” Nathan agreed, “but I still want us to turn around. We may need to use the P-Seventy-Twos.”
“Yes, sir,” Dylan replied. “We won’t be able to park as deeply into the cave, though. We’re widest across our aft end.”
“As long as our nose isn’t sticking out, we’ll be fine,” Nathan assured him, patting him on the back as he turned to exit. “Park this thing, gentlemen.”
“You got it, Cap’n,” Josh replied.
* * *
Commander Jexx moved quickly through the mansion that had once housed the ruling family of Takara. Now it served as the home of Lord Dusahn, as well as the seat of power for the empire.
Since the facility had not been designed for such purposes, the commander often found himself walking long distances. The journey between the command center and his leader’s private chambers was the longest of them. He often wondered why Lord Dusahn had chosen to be so far from the command center.
The only conclusion the commander had come up with was that his leader was not interested in the day-to-day decisions required to run his military. This task had always been delegated to subordinates. Such was the duty of generals and colonels with far more experience in the machinations and logistics of ships, weapons systems, and men.
The problem was, with each successive failure by his subordinates, fewer and fewer of them were left to manage the empire’s forces. Commander Jexx often felt as if he had been cursed with his new-found position as the Dusahn leader’s right-hand man. Not only were his responsibilities many, but so were the chances of failure for which he would be held responsible.
To make matters more complicated, his leader had become increasingly hostile as of late. Ever since his return from Infernum, his temper had been short, and his forgiveness sparse. Lord Dusahn had become less willing to listen to reason and more likely to be driven by his emotions rather than logic. The commander had been forced to develop an ability to phrase his presentations carefully as of late, to avoid his leader’s wr
ath and guide him in the proper direction.
Today, however, was different. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the commander had news that he was certain would make the leader of the Dusahn Empire happy. For once, he wouldn’t be dodging fire, attempting to weather the man’s anger.
“Commander,” the officer at the reception desk outside Lord Dusahn’s private office greeted. When he realized the commander was not slowing down, he added, “I’m not sure our lord wants to be…”
It was too late.
Commander Jexx burst through the double doors into Lord Dusahn’s private office without knocking, something he had never done. “My Lord!”
As the officer outside had warned, Lord Dusahn did not appear to be in a mood to receive company. “Have you lost your mind, Commander?” his leader wondered. His tone was more of a warning than an inquisition.
“Apologies, my lord, but this cannot wait,” the commander insisted, continuing toward his leader without slowing.
“For your sake, I hope so.”
“We have found it, my lord,” the commander explained, smiling.
Lord Dusahn’s brow furrowed. “Please tell me you are speaking about the mysterious ally of the Karuzari.”
Commander Jexx handed his leader the data pad. “They were only able to make one sensor pass, but they did so at low altitude, in their atmosphere, while under fire.”
“A daring move,” Lord Dusahn agreed as he examined the data.
“The sensor scans show many similar patterns and energy signatures as those used recently by the Karuzari,” Commander Jexx told him. “They even detected the same missiles the Karuzari have been using to take down our shields. This must be it.”
“I agree with your assessment, Commander,” Lord Dusahn replied. “What is this world called?”
“SilTek, my lord. They gathered copious amounts of signals intelligence as well, including entertainment and news broadcasts. The ship that fought us in the Volon system comes from this world. They are arming them on the surface as we speak.”