Ep.#4 - Freedom's Dawn (The Frontiers Saga), page 7
“There are weapons of use other than knives and guns.” The ensign smiled and leaned back in his chair, his meal now finished. “I was a Corinairan long before I was a Takaran communications officer. I will remain a Corinairan long after my tour of duty is over, as will my Corinairan brethren on this ship… one of which worked in environmental control. As soon as the captain ordered the bombardment, I knew I had to act fast to save my world. I sent a covert message to my friend to reduce the atmospheric pressure and oxygen content on the bridge and the upper decks. Takarans are used to a much higher pressure and oxygen content. It took a while—as it had to be done slowly so as not to alarm anyone—but eventually, it made them weak and impaired their mental acuity. When the time came, it was quite easy to overpower both Takaran guards and capture their weapons.”
“And the blow to the captain?” Sergeant Weatherly inquired.
“That one was personal.” Ensign Willard’s grin instantly tripled in size.
* * *
Commander Dumar’s eyes momentarily glanced at the video feeds from the rooftop security cameras as all five of his Kalibri airships set down safely. His eyes had been fixed on the current action reports scrolling across the large screen built into the planning table in the middle of the command center. He had at least two dozen teams instigating conflicts between Loyalists and Followers in Aitkenna alone. In addition, communiqués from the other posts on his continent reported that they were running similar operations, if not quite as complex as those he was currently running in the planet’s capital. This was, after all, the seat of the Corinairan government, and if he was to destabilize them then this was the place to make it happen.
No more than a few minutes after the airships had returned from the mission to free the command staff of the Yamaro from their captivity, her captain came bursting into the command center. As with any nobleman, he expected everyone around him to gaze in awe upon him, a common trait that the commander found somewhat puzzling as very few of the nobles he had met in his career were visually impressive.
“Commander!” Captain de Winter bellowed as he entered the room and immediately spotted the man in charge standing at the planning table.
The commander continued to watch the various displays built into the table. Live feeds from various sources played in at least a dozen separate windows on the main screen. Most were from handheld digi-cams with live mobile links to the planetary data network. Others were from professional news services still operating within the ruins of the city—the ones that he had allowed to continue broadcasting due to their decidedly loyalist viewpoints. At catastrophic events, there were always plenty of digi-cams around to record it from every possible angle. It made getting live intelligence considerably easier. Since Commander Dumar could control which news agencies were still on the air, he had a greater degree of influence over the population.
“I need to speak with you!” the captain insisted as he approached.
As if to convey his complete lack of interest in or respect for the man, the commander responded without even looking up from his displays. “What can I help you with, Captain?”
“I require ships and armed personnel, the best that you’ve got.”
“You mean like the men who just freed you and your fellow nobles?”
The captain recognized the sarcasm in the commander’s voice but chose to ignore it for the moment. Had he been on Takara, he was quite sure that the commander’s tone would have been more respectful. “If those are the best that you have, then yes.”
“And just what types of ships do you require?”
“At least two orbital shuttles escorted by fighters and gunships.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I’m afraid I can’t provide you with all of that at this particular moment.”
“Well, when can you?” the captain asked impatiently.
“If we’re lucky, in a few days. But it’s more likely to be a few weeks.”
“That will not do,” the captain objected, his anger at the commander’s disrespectful mannerism growing with each passing moment.
“Well I’m sorry to hear that, Captain.” The commander wondered exactly how much longer the exchange could go before the pompous nobleman would lose his temper.
“I don’t think you understand the situation, Commander.” The captain’s infliction on the other man’s technically subordinate rank was meant to demonstrate his superiority over the commander. “We have to retake the Yamaro and capture that ship—”
“You mean the one that bested you,” he interrupted. He knew his remark was pushing the limit, but in his current situation, he didn’t much care.
“That arrogant little twit did not best anyone, Commander. My crew mutinied on me at the last second.”
Now why doesn’t that surprise me? the commander thought.
“Had they not,” the captain continued, “I’d be sitting on the Aurora’s bridge right now instead of wasting time arguing with you about the priorities of the situation.”
The captain’s temper had nearly boiled over during his last statement, and the commander felt it was time to put an end to the exchange. “Well at least we agree on that,” the commander responded, his head still down and his eyes still on his displays. “It was a waste of time.”
“Commander, you do realize that I can give you a direct order to—”
That was as much as the commander was going to take. “No, actually you can’t, Captain,” he interrupted as he raised his head and turned to face the now infuriated captain. “You see, I’m the operational commander for all anti-insurgency operations on this entire planet. And my standing orders are to take whatever actions I deem necessary to prevent acts of sedition or insurrection against the empire. In such situations, I have complete command authority. Only Caius himself could give me a direct order at this point, Captain.” The commander, although he was correct, fully expected Captain de Winter to escalate their dispute.
“The capture of that ship is far more important than anything happening on this insignificant little world—”
“Is that why you decided to openly bombard it from orbit?” the commander stated without any effort at hiding the accusatory nature of his statement.
“I was well within my authority to do so, Commander. Not that I am required to explain myself to you, but it was necessary in order to force the captain of the Aurora to come out into the open. Besides, you received your warning signal.”
“Yes, thank you for that little consideration, Captain.”
“Commander…” the captain began in a more subdued voice, “I’m sorry; I didn’t get your name.”
The commander was surprised at the change in the captain’s demeanor. “Dumar, Commander Travon Dumar,” he elaborated with conviction, “Operational commander of all Anti-Insurgency Forces in the Darvano system.”
“If I might have a word with you in private… please?” Captain de Winter asked.
The captain’s use of the word please was enough to convince the commander to grant the captain his private discussion. “As you wish,” he agreed, turning to exit the command center. “Follow me.”
Captain de Winter followed the commander out of the room and into the commander’s adjacent office whose windows opened into the command center itself. Unaccustomed to following anyone, he held his tongue for the moment, intending to play his trump card in private where it would have the greatest effect. His family was quite favored by Caius, and despite the fact that the captain had yet to distinguish himself in his command, his father and his father’s father before him had done so on many occasions. He was certain that this fact alone would be enough to force the commander to grant his request.
The commander’s office, although not ornately adorned like most offices of command rank, had obviously been occupied by the commander for quite some time. The commander’s personal trappings were everywhere, the most obvious of which were the numerous pictures on the wall. Most were of family and friends, as well as a few group shots of comrades he had served with in the past. Of course, there was also the obligatory picture of their leader, Caius the Great. What caught the captain’s eye, however, and caused him to pause and reconsider his approach, was the picture to the left of Caius—a photo of an elite squad of royal guards. On the end of the first row was the Commander Dumar, somewhat younger to be sure and of lesser rank, but still the highest ranking member of the squad in the picture. This man has connections of his own, the captain thought.
“Commander Dumar, my apologies. I allowed my enthusiasm to get the better of me. But I feel it my duty to ensure that you understand the full gravity of my mission.”
“Your mission, Captain? Or the one that you took upon yourself?”
“Had I waited for command authority in this instance, I’m quite sure it would’ve been too late.”
Too late for you to grab the glory, the commander thought. He had noticed the captain’s eyes linger on the pictures on the wall on his way in and recognized their impact on the nobleman. “Perhaps,” he said as he took a seat behind his desk. “Continue.”
The nobleman chose to remain standing, as a gesture of respect for the man who, while of lower rank, nonetheless had the power to grant him the resources he so desperately needed. “The enemy ship in orbit—”
“The Aurora,” the commander interjected, if only to demonstrate to the captain that he was not completely ignorant of the situation.
“Correct.” The commander’s knowledge of the enemy vessel caused the captain to stumble momentarily in his presentation. “The Aurora… While small and poorly armed, she has a unique piece of technology on board. A device, a propulsion system of some type that gives her the ability to jump between two points in space in the blink of an eye.”
“Really?” The commander found the idea, although interesting in a tactical sense, difficult to believe. “And how have you determined this device exists?”
“Trust me, Commander. It exists.”
“Humor me, Captain. I’m a curious sort.”
The captain took a seat across the desk from the commander, seeking to speak on a level of equality, as comrades-in-arms. “During our encounter, the Aurora used this device to repeatedly jump in and out of our shield perimeter, allowing her to deliver an impressive amount of damage to the Yamaro before we could get off a single shot.”
“And how far did she jump?”
“We only got a fix on her once or twice during the engagement. Both times she was just over a light minute out. But I believe she can jump much farther than that.”
“And on what do you base this assumption?”
“We were transferred to the surface by the same type of shuttle used by the harvesting teams in the Haven system, and I recognized one of the pilots. She was one of the Karuzari cell leaders that escaped our bombardment of the Taroa system. Reinforcements arriving on scene shortly after the Campaglia was destroyed reported a ship of unknown design that seemingly disappeared as they approached weapons range. I believe the Aurora was that ship. As you know, even our fastest ships would take nearly a year to complete the journey between Taroa and Darvano—three times as long if they went to Haven first. Even our comm-drones require a couple of weeks to travel that distance.”
“But the Karuzari have no such device, Captain. Such a device would take an entire army of experts decades to create. And they have never had access to such resources.”
“The ship is not theirs,” the captain smiled.
Suddenly, the news of the sign that had swept the planet since late the previous evening was beginning to seem less improbable than he had first believed. “Are you suggesting that the Legend of Origins is true?”
“Of course not,” the captain said, his eyebrow raised as a smile came across his face. “That would be in direct violation of the Doctrine,” he added in the most politically correct fashion he could muster. “Besides, it’s true origins are of little concern, but her technology is of great concern, as it should be to you, Commander.”
The commander leaned back in his chair for a moment, pondering the captain’s conclusions. He had never been one to believe in the Doctrine. He had simply gone along with its administrations like most others, as he suspected was the case with the man sitting across the desk from him at the moment. Unfortunately, if the enemy ship was proven to be from Earth, it would be much more difficult to suppress the Followers of the Order. They already believed in the Legend of Origins, as well as in this mythical Na-Tan character, who was believed to be the bringer of salvation from the very cradle of humanity long since forgotten. “Indeed,” he responded thoughtfully.
“Then you can understand my eagerness. The empire would benefit greatly from the acquisition of such technology, perhaps even beyond measure.”
“Perhaps,” the commander agreed. “As would your reputation and your place in your family history.”
“A small consideration by comparison,” Captain de Winter assured him. “My only concern is for the glory of the Empire.”
“Undoubtedly,” the commander stated with the slightest touch of sarcasm in his voice. “And if this technology could have such an enormous impact on the well being of the empire, could it not also have an equally disastrous effect? Assuming of course that your plans do not go as intended…”
“I assure you, Commander, my actions will prove successful.”
“And I’m to base this on what… your recent performance in dealing with this same vessel?”
The captain fought to control his reaction. “The circumstances in which I intend to face this vessel shall be quite different. It is obvious to me now that because of her ability to jump away at a moment’s notice, it would be impossible to best her in a traditional battle scenario. Instead, we must find a way to get on board this vessel, covertly if you will.”
“And what makes you think that she could be so easily taken by a boarding action?”
The captain smiled, satisfied with the deductive reasoning he was about to bestow upon the commander. “The fact that she is using a dilapidated shuttle not of her own world flown by locals not of her origins is quite telling—as is the youthfulness of her captain. I believe that this ship is insufficiently staffed at the moment, possibly as a result of her initial encounter with the Campaglia.”
The commander contemplated the captain’s words. If indeed the Aurora was understaffed as the captain suspected, it would greatly increase his chances of a successful boarding action. Not to mention the fact that, if the Yamaro’s crew were being held prisoner in her cargo holds as her telemetry had indicated, the Aurora’s crew would be further depleted as some of them would be necessary to guard the captives.
“Her captain did seem a bit young,” the commander agreed, remembering the news broadcast he had watched earlier.
“Exactly. If we act quickly, we can capture the Aurora’s shuttle at the spaceport and use it to get on board.”
The commander grimaced. “I’m afraid you’re too late, Captain. That shuttle left the spaceport at the same time as you. She actually landed on board the Yamaro minutes before you arrived.”
“The Yamaro? Then perhaps she means to ferry her crew to the surface. That might be our opportunity.”
“Doubtful. The situation on Corinair is too unstable at the moment. The Corinairan security minister is not dumb enough to bring a couple hundred enemy combatants down to the surface, especially after we so easily liberated the first group to set foot on this world.”
“There must be another way,” the captain urged, beginning to sound desperate.
“One may still present itself to us,” the commander admitted. “But until then, we must take steps to ensure the destruction of that vessel as it poses an unacceptable threat to the empire.”
The captain had no intention of letting the Aurora and her technology escape his grasp. He had no choice but to agree with the commander in order to keep his options open for as long as possible. “Of course. But let us not act with undue haste, Commander. It is doubtful that the Aurora is going anywhere for the moment, as her captain is still on the surface.”
“Agreed. However, in the meantime, we shall take steps to seize control of the surface to orbit defense missiles currently under the control of the Corinari militia. We may need them.”
“They will be of little use against the Aurora, Commander. She will simply jump away before the missiles reach her.”
“Perhaps. But at the moment it’s all we’ve got.” The commander leaned back in his chair as he recalled a lesson from his days as a cadet. “Better a sword than an empty hand when you set off to slay the dragon.”
Chapter Three
Nathan wasn’t good at waiting, especially when he was locked in a room with no way out. It had been nearly an hour since their escort had promised them that the Prime Minister of Corinair would be in to speak with them… right before he had closed and locked the door behind him on his way out.
He had been out of contact with his ship since they left two hours earlier, and they had to be concerned. He was sure that Ensign Mendez would have filled Vladimir in on the situation on Corinair once he made it back to the ship. His friend would be worried, but he would be patient. His former roommate was far more patient. In addition, the ship was so banged up from five engagements over nearly twice as many days that there was plenty to keep his chief engineer preoccupied during his absence. In fact, he had complained about the additional burden of being in command while Nathan was on the surface. However, with Cameron still injured and clinging to life in the Aurora’s medical facility and Jessica down here with him, Vladimir was technically the only command officer left aboard. They were severely under staffed, and now with the additional burden of guarding the two hundred or so crewmen of the Yamaro, the Aurora had just under thirty personnel on board. The Aurora’s normal shift staffing level was one hundred.
