Ep.#4 - Freedom's Dawn (The Frontiers Saga), page 23
“My name is Redmond Tugwell, and I am the leader of the Karuzari.”
* * *
Commander Dumar stared at the video display. There was something about this man, this leader of the Karuzari. His name was not familiar to him, yet there was something about him: his mannerisms, his voice, the way he carried himself. Had he met him in battle? Had he seen him on a street corner? For all he knew, he could have been one of his children’s school teachers.
“I order all Karuzari,” the man on the video screen continued, “wherever you may be hiding, to stand down. Do not engage in combat with anyone, even if you suspect they are agents of the Ta’Akar. Remain in your homes and await further instructions from myself, or from Captain Scott. We will call for you in the days to come. For now, take cover and be safe.”
The man on the screen was not of Corinair; of that much the commander was sure. His appearance was not manicured like most Corinairans. He was a man of labor, a man of the soil… a farmer, perhaps. The commander immediately dismissed the notion, as he was too well spoken to be a farmer. Yet he did have the appearance of a man who spent much of his time outdoors.
He remembered that Captain de Winter had said that he believed the Aurora had been in the Haven system recently. The shuttle they had come down in was of the type used in that remote, backwater system. However, the Commander had never been to the Haven system. If he had met this man before, it could only be one of three places: on the battlefield, here on Corinair, or on his home world of Takara.
“Lieutenant, run an ID search on the second speaker in that video, the older one. Every ID database from every world in the Empire. I want to know his identity.”
“Yes sir.”
* * *
The Takaran anti-insurgency agent peered around the corner from the opening of the corridor into the Yamaro's main command deck foyer. The section was open in the middle around a central court yard punctuated by a circular security desk. The foyer was two decks high, with an upper level balcony that wrapped around the foyer’s upper deck. There was a pair of staircases at each end of the room that led to the second level. At the forward end, the stair cases formed a direct route to the landing balcony outside the command and control center’s port and starboard entrances.
One of the Yamaro’s command staff also peeked around the corner. “That’s it,” he said in a whisper. “The C&C is right up those stairs.” He looked around for a moment. “It looks clear,” he announced as he started to move.
The agent grabbed the nobleman, pulling him back behind him. “Not so fast,” he instructed, rolling his eyes in dismay. “You ever wonder why it’s clear?” He looked at the nobleman, who still didn’t seem to have a clue. The agent realized that the old axiom that nobility is bestowed on any fool born into it was more true than he ever imagined. “It’s the command and control center. Why wouldn’t it be guarded?”
“The ship is powered down,” the nobleman pointed out. “Perhaps they were not expecting us.”
“I would be,” the agent muttered to himself.
“Regardless, we won’t discover why if we stay here.”
The agent looked at the nobleman. “After you, sir.”
The nobleman hesitated for a moment, wondering if the anti-insurgency agent was perhaps right. Unfortunately, he had little choice in the matter and was forced to take off running in a low crouch across the foyer and directly up the stairs.
The agent watched for a moment, scanning the foyer for any signs of an ambush. Part of him wanted it to happen, just to teach all these arrogant nobles a lesson, but the Yamaro’s officer made it across the foyer and was headed up the stairs, all without incident.
“Let’s move,” he decided, rising and heading out into the foyer. The other two noblemen crouching behind him followed, the second one keeping an eye out behind them as they progressed up the stairs.
The first nobleman reached the port entrance to the bridge and immediately crouched to the right of the doorway in front of the access control panel. He placed his hand on the panel’s scanning bed, expecting his palm print to be read in order to gain access to the command center. Nothing happened. He removed his hand and tried again, yet there was still no reaction.
The agent had already come up and taken up a position behind the first nobleman as he struggled with the uncooperative access control panel. “Problem?”
“It’s not accepting my palm print as ID.”
“Maybe it doesn’t like you,” the agent responded. “Psst,” he called to one of the nearby nobles crouching behind the armored wall that ran along the entire landing and across to the starboard side of the C&C. “Get over here.” The nobleman moved closer. The agent grabbed his hand and thrust it toward the first nobleman. “Try his hand.”
The second nobleman got the hint and moved in closer to try and gain access using his hand, but he also had no luck. “It doesn’t work.”
“No kidding,” the agent said. “Back on the wall.” The second nobleman moved back over to the wall, allowing the first one to move back over to the access panel.
“I guess we know why they weren’t guarding it,” the agent decided.
“They must have reprogrammed it, removed our access files,” the first nobleman told him.
“How would they know how to do that?”
“They wouldn’t,” the nobleman agreed, “but that little worm Willard would.”
“The officer that mutinied?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t really an officer. He was only a common officer; his duties were limited, as was his access to the command decks.”
“Apparently not limited enough,” the agent commented. “Can you bypass it?”
“It might take awhile to crack the command codes,” he warned.
“How long is awhile?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe longer. We could get in immediately if we had the captain’s command codes.”
The agent turned on his comm-set, but found that it was still being jammed by the electronic countermeasures device they had left running in the Aurora’s hangar bay. “No good,” he said as he turned his comm-set back off again. “Jammer’s still running. You’ll have to crack it.”
* * *
Ensign Willard quickly led Enrique and the other seven volunteers from the Yamaro’s crew through the corridors on their way forward, stopping at each corner to check that the next section was clear before progressing. It took longer, but Enrique had been worried that there might be more than one team on board. He was also concerned that the boarding party may have laid traps along their way in order to delay any pursuers. So far, there had been signs of neither. Enrique only hoped that Sergeant Weatherly’s team, which was approaching from the starboard side, was experiencing similar luck.
“How good of a defensive position will they have?” Enrique asked as he followed in a fast walking crouch behind Ensign Willard.
“Very good, I’m afraid. Both entrances to the bridge are at the top of the stairs that lead up from the foyer. There is a balcony across the aft end of the C&C that connects the port and starboard entrances. The entire balcony wall is a meter high armor plate. If they are still trying to bypass the security lockout, they will be able to rain down fire on us from behind this wall. There are even firing ports built into the wall, so that they do not have to expose themselves in order to fire.”
“And if they have already bypassed the lockout?”
“Then we will have less than five minutes to reach the shuttle in the hangar bay before they vent the ship’s atmosphere into space.”
“Great,” Enrique said as they continued forward. “No pressure, then.”
* * *
Corporal Eckert moved very slowly in order to avoid being noticed as he peeked around the corner into the hangar bay. The bay was empty, except for a medevac shuttle and a very old cargo shuttle that appeared to have smoke wafting out the back of it.
“You said you came in an old cargo shuttle?” the corporal asked.
“Yeah. Why?” Marcus answered.
“I do not think you will be leaving in it,” the corporal told him.
“What?”
“It appears to have been disabled. There is smoke coming from the rear loading hatch.”
“Son of a bitch,” Marcus swore.
“You mean I came all the way over here for nothing?” Loki said.
“Can you fly that?” Corporal Eckert asked.
Loki moved closer to Eckert and peered around him, seeing the medevac shuttle. “I suppose so,” he said as he leaned back. “How hard can it be?”
“That’s what I thought,” Marcus sneered.
Eckert looked again. “I see at least three people in the cockpit. Possibly the flight crew.”
“Then they can fly it,” Loki said.
“If they’re willing to cooperate,” Eckert pointed out.
“Oh they’ll cooperate,” Marcus said.
Eckert thought for a moment. “There could be more of them inside the back. That shuttle is big enough to hold at least a dozen men.”
“Why would they leave that many behind?” Marcus asked. “Seems to me they’d want to take as many men as possible, seeing as how they were intent on capturing the bridge.”
“True, but they would leave at least a few to guard their only means of escape.” Corporal Eckert turned to his second. “Lewis, take your team and circle around the far side of the bay, aft of that shuttle so that you have a clear line of fire into the rear hatch. We will try to flush them out. I will watch for your signal.”
Corporal Lewis and his group of men rose and headed back in the direction they had come.
“How do you plan on flushing them out?” Marcus asked.
“We will open fire on them from the front,” Corporal Eckert explained.
“That don’t sound like such a hot idea to me,” Marcus argued.
“That ship has no weapons. If there are troops inside, they will have to come out the back and take up positions on either side to defend the shuttle. They will then be exposed to Corporal Lewis’s fire team.”
“So we’re just supposed to go charging out there, guns a blazing?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, that is the plan.”
“Still don’t sound like such a hot idea.”
* * *
Enrique stood with his back tight against the wall of the corridor that led to the port side of the command deck foyer. To his right were Ensign Willard and the seven volunteers on his squad, all lined up against the wall in similar fashion.
Enrique watched across the open foyer to his left, his eyes on the starboard corridor directly opposite his position, waiting for Sergeant Weatherly’s fire team, who had approached from starboard, to get into position. Although they had only arrived a minute ago, as the seconds passed, he became nervous, wondering if they had encountered another boarding party on their way.
The single quick peek he had allowed himself had revealed exactly what Ensign Willard had described, a pair of stairs leading up to the command center on the second level, with meter high armored walls complete with firing ports. Taking that position away from even a group as small as four men was going to be difficult.
Luckily, a moment later Sergeant Weatherly’s team moved into position on the other side of the foyer, taking up a similar posture. Enrique ensured that he had eye contact with the marine before beginning a series of hand gestures meant to communicate the enemy strength and position, as well as what Enrique’s plan of action entailed. Once he finished his gestures, the well trained sergeant repeated the exact same set of gestures to prove that he understood his instructions.
Enrique turned to his team and began whispering. “I need one man with a boomer. When we lay down cover fire, you and one just like you from the far side are going to take position behind that central station out there in the middle of the courtyard. Whenever we open up, you’ll pop up and blast at them with that thing. Got it?”
The first man with a boomer nodded as he stepped forward, readying himself to run. Enrique held up his hand for the Sergeant to see from the other side. Once he had his attention, he held up three fingers, then two fingers, then one… “GO!”
Enrique swung out to his left, bringing his energy rifle to bear on the command balcony above and to his left and opened fire. At the same time, Sergeant Weatherly did the same, showering the command balcony from his side as well. A split second later, a volunteer from each side of the foyer went charging across, their energy rifles blazing and a boomer swinging on their backs.
The sudden onslaught caught the two Takaran noblemen standing watch by surprise. Being inexperienced with actual combat, they followed their first instincts, which was to duck and cover, despite the fact that they were behind considerable amounts of reflective armored plating.
The Takaran anti-insurgency agent spun around and saw the two noblemen cowering behind the armored wall. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “Return fire!”
The nearest noblemen looked at the agent like he was crazy.
“Through the firing ports, you idiots!”
The nobleman realized his error, lifted his weapon to the nearest port in the armored wall, and took aim, firing rather indiscriminately but at least in the general direction of the incoming fire.
For a brief second, Enrique thought the enemy was not going to return fire. That moment had passed rather quickly, and now red bolts of energy were raining down from the firing ports in the wall above. The energy rounds struck near neither him nor any of his men, but they were frequent enough and within close enough proximity to keep them all pinned down for the moment.
Enrique swung out again and opened fire, but was forced back by return fire almost immediately. The two men with boomers hiding behind the center station out in the middle of the courtyard rose up anyway and fired their big guns. The sound was horrendous, creating a thunderous slap-back effect as it echoed off the metal bulkheads in the courtyard. The energy blasts raining down from the command balcony did not stop and one of the men firing the boomers was hit directly in the face before he could get a second shot off.
Enrique had hoped that the boomers would damage the armored wall. If so, a few more shots might reduce the amount of usable cover the boarding party had up there. However, the blasts appeared to reflect off the armored balcony walls, most of their energy bouncing up into the ceiling above and causing considerable damage to those unarmored sections instead. While it did send metal and panels falling from above, it fell nowhere near the command balcony where the Takaran boarding party was still free to fire upon them at will.
They repeated the process two more times, but with similar negative results. The fourth attempt only got the second boomer shooter killed as well.
“I need two more boomers out there!” Enrique ordered. He swung out yet again, Ensign Willard stepping behind him to join in the covering fire. Another boomer carrying volunteer went scurrying out, but was cut down before he reached the cover of the center station. The Takarans firing through the ports in the armored wall had become more accustomed to the incoming fire, and their cover fire no longer seemed to have the desired effect of making the enemy pause to take cover.
“This is not working!” Enrique announced angrily.
* * *
“They are in position,” Corporal Eckert announced from his position just outside the Yamaro's port hangar bay.
“How do you know?” Marcus asked.
“Because I can see them.” The corporal rose. “It is time.”
“I still think this is a dumb idea,” Marcus insisted.
Corporal Eckert strode out into the hangar bay toward the front of the medevac shuttle at a rather leisurely pace, his weapon held across his chest. Reluctantly, Marcus, Loki, and the rest of the team followed.
“This is dumb,” Marcus continued to mumble.
“All right, we all heard you the first five times you said it,” Loki objected.
“Just making sure everyone is fully aware of my feelings on the matter.”
They continued to walk toward the medevac shuttle for another few meters until Corporal Eckert stopped.
“They ain’t doin’ nothin’,” Marcus said. “Do they even see us?”
“Who are they?” the pilot asked no one in particular.
The guard jumped up from his seat at the back of the medevac cockpit, where he had been sitting, nervously waiting for word from the boarding party. He looked at the five armed men standing in a line not more than ten meters from the front of the ship.
“What are they doing?” the copilot wondered.
Nearly at once, the five unknown men raised their weapons and opened fire. Not a single shot struck the shuttle. Instead, the bolts of energy slid close to the sides and above the ship. It was enough to startle the guard inside who reflexively raised his hands in defense.
The copilot saw her opportunity and jammed her right elbow hard into the guard’s abdomen, causing him to double over. With both hands clenched together, she swung them upwards into the guards nose, knocking him backwards.
The pilot, his eyes wide from shock at his normally demur copilot’s spontaneous attack, quickly climbed out of his flight seat and dove aft on top of the stunned guard. His copilot quickly followed, slapping the button to deploy the rear loading ramp as she rose from her seat.
“Cease fire!” Corporal Eckert ordered. He could see through the medevac's cockpit windows that something was going on inside. The people had disappeared from view, although he could see an occasional head or fist—even a foot he thought—appear from time to time. Then he noticed that the rear ramp was coming down. “The rear ramp is opening!" he shouted. "Lewis, move in!” he ordered as he took off running toward the rear of the ship.
