Ep.#4 - Freedom's Dawn (The Frontiers Saga), page 10
Captain de Winter watched with no small degree of irritation as the sergeant exited through the doorway on the far side of the room.
“Friend of yours?” the commander wondered aloud.
“Just another arrogant commoner who has been away from his homeworld for too long,” the captain proclaimed as he donned his body armor. “I fear he has forgotten his place within the very society he defends.”
“Then I trust you’ll set him straight,” his executive officer said.
“In due time, commander. But for now, we have more pressing matters of which to attend.”
Andre stepped out onto the flight deck atop the command center and made his way toward the five men assembled near the first of three Kalibri airships. The men were exchanging jokes as they checked one another’s gear, their spirits high as they anticipated the coming mission. It was a chaotic time, with death and destruction all around them, but it was for this that they had spent years in training.
As he approached, Andre was surprised, but not altogether unpleased, to see his friend standing amongst the men. As usual, a broad smile was painted across his face. “You are not a member of this team, Bobby.”
“Neither are you,” Bobby argued.
“True enough.”
“Besides, I didn’t want you to get lonely.”
“More likely you heard of my mission and wanted to be in on the fun,” Andre said as he began to check Bobby’s gear.
“I’ve already had one ground assault today. I need some variety to keep things interesting,” he said. Bobby checked Andre’s gear in turn. “You know how easily I become bored.”
“The sign of a truly unimaginative mind,” Andre retorted.
“We can’t all be as creative as you, now can we, Sarge?”
“You left out handsome,” Andre bragged.
“Is it true?” Bobby asked, after pulling Andre aside from the others. “Are we going to retake the Yamaro?”
“Something like that.”
Andre held up his right hand and spun it around in a tight circle, signaling the three small airships to spin up their engines in preparation for departure. He then turned back to his friend. “You stay sharp, Bobby. This one will be much more challenging,” he warned as he turned his head and saw Captain de Winter and his command staff coming up the stairs onto the flight deck, “especially with those fools in tow.”
Bobby looked over Andre’s shoulder at de Winter and his men, all decked out in standard black Corinairan battle dress, just as they were sporting similar armaments. “You’re not serious! But they’re a bunch of aristocratic puff ’n fluffs! They’ll probably just end up shooting themselves in the foot the first time they draw their weapons.”
“As long as they don’t shoot me in the foot,” Andre said. He had no more love or respect for nobles than anyone else in the division, including their esteemed commander.
Bobby rolled his head in dismay. “Is it too late to change my mind?”
“Our team and the good captain will ride the lead ship,” Andre ordered, ignoring Bobby’s question. “The rest get loaded in the other two. Get them mounted up, Corporal,” he ordered as he turned and headed toward captain de Winter and his staff.
“Well, at least it won’t be boring,” Bobby admitted as he fell in behind Andre.
A feeling of satisfaction washed through Andre, although he did not reveal the fact to anyone. He could see the look of disappointment on the captain’s face as he drew near. He was obviously not happy at the idea of having to work with him again, and that made Andre feel like he was doing something right. “Captain de Winter,” he began with authority. The sound of the three airships engines required that he now yell in order to be heard. “Your men will ride in the second and third birds, exactly two minutes behind us. We’ll take control of the medical shuttle through swift and decisive action. Your men will arrive immediately after we have secured the ship.”
“Just a minute, Sergeant—”
The sergeant ignored the captain’s attempt to get control of the conversation. Time was short, and he wasn’t about to waste it in debate. “If you’re about to try and take command of this operation, sir, you’re wasting your time.” Andre stared him dead in the eyes and did not blink, did not flinch, for what seemed an eternity. He moved a step closer to the captain before continuing. “Those men, Captain, the ones about to board an enemy ship in woefully insufficient numbers, are killers. With guns, knives, or hands, make no mistake; these men know how to kill and have no problem doing so. Can you say the same about your officers?”
Andre stood motionless, continuing to stare as the captain glanced over at his officers. He could see the doubt in the captain’s eyes, and he knew his answer.
“And where will I be riding?” the captain asked, deciding not to press the issue.
“With us, in the lead bird, sir,” he answered. As much as he didn’t like it, technically the captain was in command of this mission, and as such needed to be in the lead airship.
The captain looked to his executive officer, Commander Rishwain. The commander immediately got the hint and ordered his men to follow the sergeant’s subordinate to the waiting airships. The captain returned his gaze to the sergeant once more. “Just one question, Sergeant. Why you?”
“Because those are my orders, sir.”
“And you always follow orders, like a good little soldier?”
Andre knew the captain was merely trying to lead him into a trap in order to force the issue of command. He knew that he was far more qualified to run the operation than either to captain or any of his officers, but he also fully expected the captain to try and exert some level of control over the mission itself. Andre wasn’t about to let himself or his men get killed due to the arrogance of a noble. “No sir, not always. But this time, I think the mission’s purpose is an important one.”
Andre continued to stare at the captain, refusing to yield to what he considered an ‘inferior officer’, as the expression was commonly used. “Now are you going to board that airship, or am I going to have to leave you behind, sir?”
There was little hesitation on the part of the captain. “Lead the way, Sergeant,” the captain said, gesturing with his left hand toward the idling airships.
Andre spun around, turning his back to the captain as he strode off toward the lead airship, the captain following close behind. The sun had completely set by now, and the night had engulfed the city in darkness. Most of her streetlights were out, as much of the city power grid had been disrupted by the bombardment earlier that day. Only those buildings such as their own, ones that were equipped with their own internal power plants, were still lit up. As he skirted the edge of the flight deck, he could see out to the city below. Other than the buildings running on internal power, the only other sources of light came from the many fires still raging out of control. Were he close enough to witness it all first hand, it would surely be a gruesome sight. However, from up here, it appeared exactly as it was to him, as the perfect diversion to conceal their activities.
Andre looked over all three airships as he moved toward the lead ship. In accordance with the mission profile, each of them had been given tail numbers that appeared to be of Corinairan military register, and displayed the standard crest of the Corinari between the pilot’s canopy and the cargo doors. As they planned on flying directly into the Aitkenna spaceport, it would be necessary to appear to be just another Corinari airship ferry troops around.
As he approached, Andre noticed that the captain’s men looked confused; they were mentally unprepared for the idea of sitting in the open sides of the little airships with their feet hanging out. Despite the ground crew checking to make sure each of their harnesses had been properly engaged, many of them still searched for something to hold onto for safety. He wondered how many of them would panic when the tiny airships started maneuvering hard. Despite their relatively simple design, the small ducted fan airships were incredibly agile, and their pilots played to that advantage whenever possible.
“Comm check, team one,” Andre called out. One by one, each of the five members of his team answered, all except the captain. “You would be number six, sir,” he explained to Captain de Winter, who was busy searching for a hand hold himself.
“Of course, six,” he answered.
“Team two,” Andre called out, but there was no response. He looked at the captain.
“Yes. Commander Rishwain, you’re the team two leader. Count off numerically by rank.” Commander Rishwain conducted a comm check for his squad. The senior officer of the nobles in the last airship did the same.
“Control, blue one. Ready for departure,” Andre announced as he looked around to ensure that nothing was amiss.
“Copy blue one,” the voice came back over the comms. “Signals Intelligence reports a Corinairan transport is arriving at the hospital now. You should have a ten minute lead. Good hunting.”
Andre turned and sat back down on the edge of the lead airship’s deck in the same position as before, port side, lead seat. Captain de Winter took a seat next to him, looking a little leery about having his feet hanging out of the small airship. “I suggest you lean back and lock in, captain,” he said with a sneer, as he reached out with his right hand and slapped the side of the pilot’s canopy three times.
The captain watched as Andre leaned back, locking his harness into the restraint mechanism. Noticing the sudden increase in noise as the rotors changed their blade pitch, the captain followed the sergeant’s advice and immediately did the same, locking himself against the airship as well.
Andre almost burst out laughing at the look on the captain’s face as the airship leapt up off the deck, gaining altitude at an alarming rate, and then turned and streaked away into the night.
* * *
“Sergeant Tukalov’s team is airborne, sir. Time on target: fifteen minutes.”
“Very well,” Commander Dumar said. “Bring in the next set of birds and load up the ground assault teams. I want them launched just as soon as that medical shuttle is taken. And send orders to all the other posts to do whatever is necessary to capture the other missile bases. Instruct them to use Karuzari tactics and weapons.”
“Yes sir.”
The commander knew that Captain de Winter’s attempt to capture the Aurora and in turn retake control of the Yamaro had little chance of success. If the captain was correct in his assumptions about the enemy ship’s staffing levels then there was a chance that a swift, decisive action could work. Unfortunately, those assumptions were based on many unknown factors, and everything hinged on their getting on board without conflict. Perhaps the ship was understaffed but carried a full company of ground troops. If that were the case, it would surely spell disaster for the boarding party.
The commander, however, had never been one to play it safe. Instinct had gotten him through many battles in the past, and his instinct now told him that the reward was worth the gamble. For this reason, he had chosen to send one of his best agents to lead the assault. While he had some reservations about Captain de Winter’s assumptions as to the state of the Aurora’s crew, he was quite sure that the nobleman would be incapable of completing the mission without someone like Sergeant Tukalov calling the shots. There was something else that Captain de Winter was correct about; the capture of the Aurora would be a significant asset for the Empire… especially if she could indeed jump between the stars.
Unfortunately, as great an asset as it might be, it was equally as threatening. It was this that worried the commander the most, and it was the real reason that he had chosen to send some of his men along, especially Andre. The commander had no doubts that the sergeant would do whatever was necessary to complete the mission, even if it meant sacrificing himself.
Despite his confidence in Sergeant Tukalov’s skill and dedication, he still had one more concern. What if they failed? He needed a backup plan, and the only thing he had left was the Corinari land-based surface to orbit defense missiles. Due to the communications and response delays inherent in any interstellar civilization, the Corinairans had been granted the use of such weapons in order to defend themselves against attack by other forces outside the Ta’Akar sphere of influence. The weapons had been limited in their range and capabilities, but since they carried nuclear warheads, even a single impact could cripple or even destroy an enemy ship that wasn’t protected by the types of shields used by Ta’Akar warships. All the data gathered thus far indicated that the Aurora had no such protection. Then again, she could simply jump away once the missiles were detected. Unless—
“Lieutenant Neese,” the commander called to his subordinate.
“Yes sir.”
“How long does it take a Corinairan missile to reach a target in orbit around the planet?”
“That depends, sir. The location of the target in relation to the launch point, and the orbital altitude of the target—”
The commander shot a dour look at the young lieutenant. “Assume for the purposes of this discussion that I am referring to the enemy ship currently running alongside the Yamaro, Lieutenant.”
The young officer swallowed hard, embarrassed by his failure to anticipate his commander’s line of thinking in the matter. “If fired at the most favorable moment, approximately ten minutes, sir.”
“And how long do the electromagnetic pulse effects last after detonation?”
“The EMP only lasts a split second, sir. However, depending on the level of protection and the type of technology, the effect can last minutes to months, sir.”
“And the radiation?” the commander asked. “How much would that interfere with the enemy’s sensors?”
“It’s hard to say, as we know nothing about the enemy’s level of technology.”
“Extrapolate, Lieutenant.”
The lieutenant cleared his throat, buying a moment to think. “Well, my first thought would be that if they are advanced enough to jump between the stars, they would be equally advanced in other areas.”
“Such as sensors,” the commander commented.
“Yes. But they have no shielding, and no energy weapons. At least they showed no use of such technology during their battle with the Yamaro, according to what we learned during the debriefing of her captain and command staff. This might suggest that their advancements, at least for the time being, are limited to only propulsion.”
The commander stared at the planning table in front of him, contemplating the lieutenant’s comments. It seemed that using the ground-based missiles against the Aurora was still a long shot, but it was a shot.
* * *
The dimly lit flight deck atop the anti-insurgency unit’s operations facility was dark, except for the pale blue lighting that spilled out from the bottom edges of the walls out across the deck. The walls were only three meters high—just enough to conceal any activity from the streets below, or from nearby buildings of lesser height. The airships that came and went on this night were unmarked, unlit, and quiet enough that their flights were masked by the noise below. Unless someone were specifically watching the top of the building at the moment one of the airships was in transition, it was doubtful they would be noticed, especially when considering the chaos that still filled the streets of Aitkenna.
There were now four Kalibri airships on the flight deck, all idling with their ducted fan rotors at zero pitch so as to remain quiet and avoid disturbing the air around them while loading. Two of the airships were fitted with extended passenger pods that protruded considerably on either side of the small ships allowing them to carry up to ten passengers each. The other two remained in their standard configuration with an open cargo bay.
Two columns of men dressed in common Corinairan civilian attire and carrying a variety of weapons made their way into the passenger modules of two of the airships. Six others, all heavily armed and dressed in the standard black uniforms of the Corinari, took their seats on the decks of the remaining two airships.
Moments after the last man took his seat, and the passenger airships had closed their doors, the four airships lifted quickly and quietly off the rooftop flight deck and climbed away into the darkness of the night. In less than thirty minutes, they would covertly deposit their passengers near their objective and disappear once again.
* * *
“Maybe in the future you will spend more time in the simulator as a pilot instead of a navigator,” Vladimir told Loki as they made their way into the aft topside airlock.
“Right. Just try taking the stick away from Josh and see what happens,” Loki protested.
“What are you so worried about?” Vladimir asked as he placed the helmet over Loki’s head and locked it in place. The auto-seal engaged with a hiss and the life support pack on his back immediately began pumping breathable air into his helmet. “You have been in space many times.”
“In a space ship,” Loki argued over the comms, “not space itself. There is a difference you know.”
“Perhaps,” Vladimir admitted as he checked Loki’s suit and life support systems one last time.
“I still think Josh should go,” Loki muttered. “He did volunteer, you know.”
“Yes. But Josh must stay here to fly this ship.”
“What flying? We’re in orbit. All he’s doing is flirting with Ensign Yosef.”
“You see, he is busy,” Vladimir said with a smile. “Besides, we need the shuttle back here, not on the Yamaro.”
“But Josh loves this kind of stuff.”
Vladimir was getting tired of Loki’s complaints, and he wanted to get back to his repairs. He had been irritated enough when there was no one available to assist Loki in preparing for his EVA. “Just think of your suit as a tiny space ship.”
Loki looked at Vladimir.
“What?” Vladimir asked, shrugging his shoulders.
