Ep.#13 - Return of the Corinari (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  The Dusahn had wisely hijacked the Takaran communications satellite network the very first day they had seized control of the system. To it, they had added their own components, upgrading the system into one that could relay commands, via jump-capable communications drones, to all the worlds in the Pentaurus sector, as well as to their ships that patrolled their new empire. It was a near-perfect system except for one critical flaw: it was woefully underpowered. Because of this, it could not run its protective shields around the clock and had to periodically drop them to allow its reserve power stores to replenish. An even bigger mistake was that it did so on a regular, predictable schedule.

  Once the missile arrived behind a silent flash of blue-white light against the starry background, the automated relay satellite had only seconds to raise its shields to full power. While it was able to absorb the impact and subsequent detonation of the first missile, its power levels were woefully insufficient to stave off the detonation of the second.

  Somewhere in the Dusahn Empire, the designer of the relay satellite would face severe punishment.

  The Dusahn communications relay system not only allowed for near-real-time communication throughout the empire, it also provided failsafes. Regular, automated contact and status update signals were exchanged, regardless of the presence of any carried communications. Such signals were designed to alert command, as well as the rest of the ships in the fleet, if a vessel developed a problem, came under attack, or was otherwise removed from the chain of communications.

  The assault ships in orbit over Takara and Corinair would never get the message, as they were the first ships to be targeted. Their shields down, and their crews complacent after weeks of peace, quiet, and mundane routines, their deaths were likely immediate and, for the most part, painless. One moment they were there, the next they were a fireball of expanding gasses and debris.

  * * *

  For as long as he could remember, Lord Dusahn had begun his morning with Chankarti training. Most days, he would change from his sleepwear directly into his black and crimson combat robes. The disciplines involved helped center his mind, balance his temper, and left him feeling as if he were in total control of mind and body. It had long ago become like a drug to him. Chankarti had made him everything he was. It had given him the ability to defeat his brothers and take the lordship. It had given him the ferocity to do what others would deem unthinkable; things that needed to be done if one was to build great empires.

  This day had begun like all the rest. Full contact combat with his most advanced Chankarti masters. Each morning, he beat the crap out of these men, and yet, they continued to return the next day. Rarely did one of them not appear as scheduled. They were true masters of mind over body, which was at the core of the ancient Jung discipline.

  Lord Dusahn stood at the side of the combat triad, sweat dripping down his face. Before him lay his competitor, on his hands and knees, still shaking off the effects of his lord’s last blow. “Perhaps that is enough for one day,” Lord Dusahn suggested.

  “I can continue, if you so desire, my lord,” the man assured him, still on his hands and knees.

  “I respect your offer, but I have no desire to see you dead. I value these sessions too much.” Lord Dusahn offered his hand to his younger competitor. “Let me help you.”

  His opponent looked up at his leader. “Mercy is for the weak.”

  “It is not mercy, Enton, it is respect. It is something I do not offer many, so I suggest you accept it.”

  “With honor, my lord,” Enton replied earnestly, taking his leader’s hand and getting up.

  Lord Dusahn pulled hard to help Enton up. “I think you have put on weight, Enton,” he teased. “Perhaps life on Takara is too easy on you.”

  “Getting my ass handed to me every morning is far from easy,” Enton laughed. “However, your left hand dropped slightly just before that last move. Had it dropped a few more centimeters, you would have been open to a Kon-de-oso.”

  Lord Dusahn grinned. “That is why we have these morning sessions, to uncover any bad habits I might develop.”

  Multiple claps of thunder shook the windows of the Chankarti pavilion. A split second later, thunderous explosions rocked the floor, nearly knocking them both off their feet.

  The door burst open, and a squad of Zen-Anor burst into the room.

  “What is going on?” Lord Dusahn demanded.

  “We are under attack, my lord,” the senior Zen-Anor officer reported. “We must get you to a protected area.”

  “We will go to the command bunker,” Lord Dusahn insisted, heading for the door.

  “My lord,” the officer pleaded. It was to no avail. “You heard him,” he told his men, who immediately ran to form a protective ring around their leader.

  Lord Dusahn burst through the doorway into the morning sun as blue-white flashes of light dotted the sky. Explosions went off in all directions but were all far away.

  “They are targeting our surface-to-orbit batteries,” Lord Dusahn realized. “It is a prelude to a full attack!” he added, breaking into a run.

  A few seconds later, the area flooded with a flash of bright light, followed by another ear-splitting clap of thunder that blended with an explosion a split second later.

  Before he could react, the shock wave swept over Lord Dusahn and his men, knocking them all to the ground.

  Lord Dusahn’s ears were ringing, his vision blurred. Bits of debris were raining down upon him, some of them burning him. Someone was yelling at him, then slapping at his chest and legs.

  He was on fire.

  Lord Dusahn snapped back to reality as one of the Zen-Anor beat out the fire on his leader’s Chankarti robes. Lord Dusahn quickly removed the burning robe as he climbed to his feet, tossing the smoldering garment aside.

  “We must go!” the Zen-Anor soldier insisted.

  Lord Dusahn looked back toward the Chankarti pavilion. Half the building was gone, the other half burning. The buildings to the west were gone as well.

  “My lord!” the guard urged again.

  Lord Dusahn looked around him. At least four Zen-Anor lay dead around him, having shielded their leader with their own bodies.

  “Please!” the guard pleaded as another missile struck less than a kilometer away, shaking the ground upon which they stood.

  “Yes, of course,” Lord Dusahn replied, following the remaining two Zen-Anor soldiers attempting to lead him to safety.

  * * *

  “The first wave should have struck,” Jessica reported from the Aurora’s tactical station.

  “Mister Sheehan, prepare to jump us to the Darvano system,” Nathan instructed. “Put us one light minute from Corinair.”

  “Aye, sir,” Loki replied.

  “Once we jump in, confirm our targets,” Nathan continued. “Once we see the impacts and the resulting damage, we’ll send a comm-drone with the data back to control, then pick our targets and attack.”

  “Understood,” Kaylah replied from the sensor station.

  “Hopefully, there won’t be any targets left,” Jessica commented.

  “Jump loaded and ready,” Loki reported.

  “Execute the jump,” Nathan ordered.

  “Jumping in three……two……one…”

  Nathan watched the main view screen as the pale blue light seemed to spill out of the emitters all along the forward aspect of the Aurora’s hull, quickly spreading until the entire hull was covered, at which point it flashed brightly and disappeared.

  “Jump complete,” Loki reported. “On course for Corinair, one light minute out.”

  “Conducting passive scans,” Kaylah reported.

  “Threats?” Nathan called over his shoulder.

  “Threat board shows one heavy cruiser, one assault ship, a frigate, and four gunships,” Jessica reported. “No octos, a few shuttles mov
ing between Corinair and the ships in orbit.”

  “Anything further out?”

  “Negative.”

  “Old light, missile impacts,” Kaylah reported. “It’s the first wave…” She paused a moment, in awe of what she was witnessing on her displays. “My God.”

  “Damage assessment?” Nathan asked.

  “One moment,” Kaylah replied, getting to work. “Multiple detonations…on the surface, in orbit… Details coming in now. About half of their surface-to-orbit batteries were destroyed. The others are still shielded, but their shields are greatly weakened. The Nighthawks should have no problem taking them out.”

  “What about those ships?” Nathan asked.

  “The assault ship is gone,” she replied. “Nothing but debris. The frigate has lost all shields and sustained heavy damage, but she is still operational, and her missile batteries are intact. The cruiser is undamaged but has lost her starboard midship shields. The cruiser is launching octos… Jump flashes,” she suddenly added. “Down low…Nighthawks…they’re attacking the remaining surface-to-orbit batteries.”

  “Target the cruiser,” Nathan ordered. “Four missiles. Lead with a shield buster, just in case.”

  “Targeting the cruiser,” Jessica replied. “One shield buster and three standard missiles.”

  “Be ready to execute an intercept jump on that cruiser,” Nathan instructed.

  “Already loaded,” Loki assured him.

  “Missiles are loaded and ready,” Jessica reported.

  “Launch missiles,” Nathan ordered.

  “Launching missiles.”

  “Scan complete,” Kaylah reported. “Data transferred to a comm-drone.”

  “Missiles have jumped,” Jessica reported.

  “Comms, launch the drone,” Nathan ordered. “Helm, as soon as the drone is away, execute the intercept jump.” Nathan tapped the comm-panel located in the arm of his command chair, calling up a direct channel to flight operations. “Flight, Captain. Ready all Eagles for quick launch in one minute.”

  “Eagles are lined up on both forward flight decks, ready to go,” the flight operations officer assured him.

  “Comm-drone is away,” Naralena reported.

  “Ready all forward tubes. Full power triplets,” Nathan ordered as he closed the channel to flight ops. “Execute intercept jump.”

  “Intercept jump in three…” Loki began.

  “Full power triplets ready on all forward tubes,” Jessica acknowledged.

  “…Two…”

  “Comm-drone has jumped,” Kaylah reported from the sensor station.

  “…One……jumping.”

  “Here we go,” Lieutenant Teison declared as he pressed the jump button on his flight control stick.

  The view outside shifted slightly, as a result of the ship jumping from their position eight light years away into the Takaran system.

  “Jump complete,” Ensign Lassen reported, monitoring the Falcon’s systems from the copilot’s station.

  “One-minute-old light coming in now,” Sergeant Nama reported from the back station. “Looks like the first strike just detonated. Would you like a damage assessment?”

  “Just complete your scans as quickly as possible,” the lieutenant instructed. “This place is a hornet’s nest, and we just whacked it with a really big stick. I want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”

  “You’re not even curious?” the sergeant wondered.

  “Our job is to get the data back to command,” the lieutenant replied.

  Despite the Nighthawk’s inertial dampeners, the sudden deceleration caused by jumping into the Corinairan atmosphere was nearly enough to knock the wind out of Commander Prechitt.

  “Two targets at three two zero and zero zero five,” his AI reported as the fighter bounced about in the night air.

  The entire area was lit up by the spreading fires on the surface, the result of the first missile strike less than a minute ago. The commander could not help but wonder how many of his own people might have perished in those fires.

  “Both targets locked,” Max reported. “Launching missiles.”

  Jonas blocked the thought of his people burning out of his mind, his attention turning to his missile status display just as two of the green missile indicators turned red, indicating they had been launched. He glanced up at the forward windows of his canopy. The streets of Aitkenna were streaking by below him as the taller buildings zipped past on either side. Two missiles rocketed away from under him, racing toward their distant targets on bright yellow contrails.

  Brilliant bolts of red-orange plasma suddenly leapt toward him from directly ahead, striking his forward shields and causing them to take on a semi-opaque, reddish hue with each impact.

  His weapons cleanly away and racing toward the targets, the commander instinctively eased his flight control stick back, bringing up his fighter’s nose just enough to clear the buildings ahead of him.

  “Forward shield strength down to sixty percent,” the AI reported. “Immediate jump to the turn waypoint is advised.”

  “I’m going to jump directly to the next target,” the commander replied calmly.

  “That is ill advised,” the AI stated. “It will expose this ship to greater defensive fire…”

  “I am aware of the risk,” the commander stated as he rolled his fighter into a tight left turn. “And of the reward,” he added as he pressed the jump button. A split second later, he found himself halfway across Aitkenna, skimming the tops of its tallest buildings, new anti-aircraft fire slamming into his shields, this time to starboard. “I’d love it if you could send some fire towards those batteries, Max,” the commander suggested as he initiated a quick right turn and then dove the ship down in between the buildings.

  “Our defensive weapons are not strong enough to penetrate their shields unless they are down to twenty percent or lower,” Max reported.

  “Two more missiles for the next targets,” the commander instructed calmly. Two bolts of energy slammed into his port side, causing the ship to bounce abruptly and slide to starboard. The commander tweaked his flight control stick slightly left, arresting his sudden slide to the right, preventing his starboard wing from striking the buildings streaking past him. “Quickly, please,” he added.

  “Targets acquired and locked,” Max replied. “Launching missiles.”

  Again, another two green missile status indicators turned red as both missiles left their rails, driving toward their targets. The commander looked ahead as one missile climbed slightly and veered to port, turning toward its target, and the second missile continued forward, staying below the tops of the buildings.

  “Ten seconds to forward shield failure,” Max warned.

  “We’re out of here,” Jonas declared, pitching up and pressing his jump button again.

  “Jump complete,” Mister Souza reported from the Weatherly’s helm. “We’re now in the Darvano system.”

  “Dusahn frigate sixteen degrees off our port bow,” the sensor operator announced. “Nine degrees down relative; range twenty kilometers and closing fast.”

  “Helm, sixteen degrees to port and nine down,” Captain Hunt instructed. “Denny, ready the forward plasma torpedo tubes. Triplets, full power.”

  “Port sixteen, down nine,” the helmsman acknowledged, beginning his turn.

  “Frigate has no forward shields,” Bonnie added. “She’s spotted us. She’s turning away and deploying her missile launchers.”

  “They’re protecting their unshielded bow,” Captain Hunt stated.

  “Forward tubes are hot,” his XO reported from the tactical console.

  “Coming on target in ten seconds,” Mister Souza reported from the helm.

  “They’ve got a missile lock on us,” Bonnie warned from the sensor station.

  �
��Five seconds,” the helmsman updated.

  “Fire as soon as you have a lock,” Captain Hunt ordered.

  “They’re launching missiles!” the sensor operator announced.

  “On course!”

  “Firing all forward tubes!” his XO reported.

  “Five seconds to missile impacts!” the sensor officer warned. “Target is jumping!”

  “Escape jump!” Captain Hunt snapped.

  “Escape jump, aye!” the helmsman replied, immediately executing the order.

  “Bonnie, determine where they jumped based on heading and expended jump energy,” Captain Hunt instructed. “Denny, load two seekers with nukes and get ready to send them to wherever Bonnie thinks that frigate went.”

  “Those are long odds,” Denny warned, preparing his weapons.

  “We need to slow them down, or we’ll end up chasing them all over the damned system, and the Glendanon can’t jump in until we own this space.”

  “I’ve got a probable location,” Bonnie announced from the Weatherly’s sensor station.

  “Accuracy?”

  “Sixty-eight percent.”

  “Good enough.”

  “Transferring coordinates to tactical,” Bonnie reported.

  “Missiles have the target data,” Denny added.

  “Launch,” Captain Hunt ordered.

  “Launching two,” Denny replied.

  “Bonnie, pass the coordinates to the helm,” the captain instructed. “Mike, intercept jump to that location, five kilometers from the target.”

  “Aye, sir,” the helmsman replied.

  “If we jump too soon, those seekers might lock onto us,” Denny warned.

  “I’ll give them a few seconds,” Captain Hunt assured him. “But be ready to transmit a destruct signal, just in case.”

  The blue-white flash washed over the bridge, and the image of Corinair appeared along the lower edge of the spherical main view screen. Directly ahead of them, a black and crimson Dusahn heavy cruiser could be seen just above the planet, orbiting it from left to right.