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

by Ryk Brown

  All four pairs of black-clad soldiers seemed to advance toward the north and west corners of the intersection, ignoring the energy weapons fire coming from behind them and lighting up their rear shields.

  Emboldened by their lack of concern, the Dusahn soldiers firing from the south and east corners rose from their cover, determined to charge forward in glorious Dusahn fashion and mow down their challengers.

  It was a mistake.

  Once all the soldiers to the south and east had stepped into the open, small rectangular weapons turrets popped up from the backs of the Ghatazhak. The turrets spun about quickly, taking relative aim in the direction of the charging Dusahn soldiers, releasing a barrage of finger-sized mini-rockets that sped across the intersection. The mini-rockets twisted about in the air, each of them steering toward targets assigned by their AIs, slamming into the unsuspecting Dusahn soldiers and exploding, blowing them apart and littering the street with blood and body parts.

  One by one, Dusahn soldiers to the north and west fell to Ghatazhak weapons fire, despite the fact that the Dusahn were sending four times the amount of fire they were receiving.

  But the Ghatazhak were frighteningly precise. Barrages were for fear. To kill, the Ghatazhak believed a single shot was all that was necessary. Unfortunately for the Dusahn soldiers, their own body armor was insufficient against the Ghatazhak’s new energy weapons. The Dusahn armor burst open with each impact, cutting through with ease, finding the warriors within and igniting their tissues in an instant. The results were not as gruesome as the damage done by the mini-rockets but were just as effective.

  Within seconds, the entire platoon of Dusahn soldiers was dead—defeated by a mere eight Ghatazhak, all of whom suffered nothing more than a slight drop in their shield strengths.

  “Jump complete,” Bulldog One’s helmsman reported. “We’re at waypoint India Four Two.

  “Any sign of a comm-drone?” Robert asked his sensor officer.

  “Negative,” Ensign Lief replied. “However, Bulldogs Two, Three, and Four are also on station.”

  “We could launch a recon drone,” the XO suggested from the Orochi’s tactical station. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “Too risky,” Robert insisted. “Even if we spotted the dreadnought, the Aurora would have no idea when our missiles were arriving. We might hit her by mistake. Besides, we only have two recon drones, and we may need them later.” Robert sighed. “We’ll wait.”

  “Damn!” Donan exclaimed as his shields flashed and his entire combat tank rocked. For a brief moment, the motion was so intense he feared his tank might tip over. His vehicle rocked again, even more violently, causing him to lose grip on his controls. But there was no shield flash.

  “Are our shields down?” he asked.

  “Shields are intact, currently at fifty-five percent,” his AI replied.

  Another explosion, rocking the tank, but again displaying no shield flash from the incoming round.

  “The heavy tactical at three two zero is firing at the ground beneath our front,” the AI continued. “He is trying to get under our shields. If he is successful, he could put an explosive round under us, which would do considerable damage.”

  “So, no shields on our underside,” Donan concluded as another round exploded, causing the tank to bounce upward and then slam back down.

  “Correct.”

  “Remind me to have a word with your designers when this is over,” Donan commented as he grabbed his controls and pushed both levers forward. “Feel free to fire on that bastard,” he instructed.

  “Shall I take that as an authorization to attack the heavy tactical at three two zero?” the AI inquired.

  “Yes, please!” Donan urged as his tank pitched upward, attempting to climb over the mound of debris before him. “Hey, Braden! A little help?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got my own problems!” the driver of Madra Five replied over comms. “I’ll get there as soon as I can!”

  “Target is moving left,” the AI reported. “Line of fire is partially obstructed by a building containing a few dozen humans, most likely noncombatants. I cannot fire without destroying a considerable amount of the building itself and possibly injuring the occupants.”

  “I’ll move right and try to draw him away from the building,” Donan replied.

  “I should point out that this is the type of situation where allowing me to have direct control over our mobility systems would be in the best interests of the mission.”

  “Sorry, but no chance,” Donan told his AI. “Nothing personal,” he added as his tank crested the mound of debris and pitched back down, charging ahead.

  “Second heavy tactical approaching from zero two five, two hundred meters.”

  “Control, any chance of some help?”

  “Madra One, Razor One,” Commander Prechitt called over comms as he dove his fighter toward the heavy tactical on the surface ahead of him. “Continue northeast. I need the target to be ten more meters from the building to take the shot.”

  “I’m trying!” Donan replied.

  “Two octo fighters have just jumped in to starboard,” the commander’s AI reported. “Five kilometers and closing fast.”

  “Talisha, you got’em?” the commander asked as he continued his dive.

  “Razors Three and Four, vectoring to intercept,” Talisha replied.

  “Ten seconds to terminal dive,” the commander’s AI warned.

  “Don’t touch the flight controls, Max,” the commander instructed.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” his AI assured him. “Three……two…”

  Commander Prechitt pressed the button on his flight control stick, launching a missile.

  “…One…”

  The weapon away, the commander pulled his flight control stick back hard as he shoved his throttle all the way forward. His engine screaming to full power, his fighter pulled out of its dive, reversed its attitude, and began rocketing skyward.

  The climbing Sugali fighter disappeared in a blue-white flash of light as the missile struck the Dusahn target, blowing it apart in a fiery explosion that did nothing more than shake the nearby buildings.

  “Nicely done!” Donan congratulated as he turned his tank toward the next target.

  “Splash Two!” Talisha reported over comms. “Madra One, Razor Three! Your skies are clear for the moment. You’ve got two heavy tacticals left. Shall we engage?”

  “Feel free,” Donan insisted. “I’m always willing to share the fun.”

  “Roger that,” Talisha replied. “You guys take the target at one five seven, and we’ll handle the one at one eight four.”

  “You got it, Three,” Donan replied as he guided his tank down the empty street toward the target several blocks away. “Madra Five, Madra One. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good,” Braden assured him over comms. “I’ll approach the target from the east, down Bethany. You hit him from Greenville.”

  “I’m on Greenville now,” Donan replied. “Crossing Evonis.”

  Talisha rolled out of her turn and pressed her jump button, transitioning three kilometers forward in a flash of blue-white light. A quick glance over her right shoulder confirmed her wingman had jumped with her and was still watching her back as she dove toward the Dusahn assault tank on the streets ahead of her.

  “Missile is locked on target,” her AI reported.

  “Launching,” Talisha announced as she pressed the launch button on her flight control stick. She glanced at the weapons status display on the lower right side of her console, verifying that the weapon was away, then pulled up slightly to arrest her dive and begin climbing.

  Another tap of her jump button, and both she and her wingman were two kilometers further along their climb-out and at least a thousand meters higher in altitude than they were a moment ago.

  “Mis
sile impact,” her AI reported. “Target destroyed.”

  “How are we looking, Leta?” Talisha asked her AI.

  “No enemy air targets in the immediate area,” her AI replied. “Six tacticals on the surface nearby.”

  “Control, Razor Three,” Talisha called over comms. “All four tacticals in grid Two Four Seven have been destroyed. I’m detecting six more medium tacticals in the area. Shall we engage?”

  “Razor Three, Control. Negative. Climb to angels five and maintain top cover for sector five. More Madras will join Madras One and Five shortly and will execute the tacticals.”

  “Razors Three and Four, climbing to angels five and maintaining top cover,” Talisha confirmed as she rolled into a lazy arc to starboard and continued her climb. “What’s your assessment, Leta?” she asked her AI.

  “Based on current engagement data, I estimate a forty-seven percent chance that the Corinari will succeed in taking control of this world.”

  “Then I guess there’s more work to do,” Talisha said.

  Rather than chase it down, the flagship of the Dusahn Empire sat quietly, a few million kilometers away from Takara, waiting for their prey to return.

  They would not be waiting long.

  In a flash of blue-white light, the Aurora appeared only a kilometer off the dreadnought’s starboard bow, yawing to port as the much smaller ship opened fire.

  “All turrets are firing,” Jessica reported. “Broadsides will have a firing solution in ten seconds.”

  The Aurora began to shake as, once again, the Dusahn dreadnought opened fire on them, pummeling their already weakened shields with a barrage of red-orange bolts of plasma energy.

  “Our comm-drone jumped with us,” Kaylah announced from the sensor station. “It’s one hundred kilometers off our starboard bow. I doubt the dreadnought sees it.”

  “Port shields, bow to stern, are taking a beating,” Jessica reported as the ship shook violently. “Shield strength is down to forty percent.”

  “Calculate the target’s estimated position based on course and speed one minute from now,” Nathan instructed. “Comms, transfer the targeting data to the comm-drone, with instructions to launch a full spread on that location. Everything they’ve got, twenty-click box, one-click grid, as many shield-busters as they’ve got.” Nathan glanced at the mission time display. “Strike time: zero plus twenty-one.”

  “Broadsides have a solution,” Jessica announced. “Opening fire.”

  The ship rocked even more violently than before, forcing Nathan to brace himself to avoid being tossed from his command chair. “What was that?”

  “They’re moving their guns!” Kaylah reported with surprise.

  “What do you mean, they’re moving their guns?” Nathan demanded.

  “Their port main gun batteries are moving across their dorsal side…on some kind of track system. They’re moving them to starboard and adding their fire power to the…”

  Another salvo struck the Aurora’s port shields, rocking the ship and knocking Kaylah out of her chair, unprepared for the sudden violent movement of the ship.

  “Inertial dampeners are offline!” Loki reported.

  “Port shields at thirty percent!” Jessica warned as the amount of incoming fire increased.

  “Snap-roll,” Nathan ordered.

  “Initiating snap-roll to starboard,” Josh

  “Targeting point calculated,” Jessica reported.

  “Transferring targeting data to comm-drone,” Naralena added. “Message is loaded.”

  “Zero plus twenty-one is not giving them much time,” Jessica warned.

  “If we linger too long, they’ll get wise!” Nathan insisted as the ship continued to be rocked by the heavy barrage of energy weapons fire. “Besides, we can’t take this pounding for long!”

  “Comm-drone is ready!” Naralena announced.

  “Send the message!” Nathan ordered.

  “Comm-drone is jumping,” Naralena replied.

  Nathan glanced at the mission time display again as the ship continued to be pounded by fire from what was now twice as many guns as before. “Be ready on that escape jump, Mister Sheehan,” Nathan warned.

  “Are you kidding?” Loki replied, his hand next to the jump button.

  Corinari battle tanks progressed slowly but surely down the main boulevards—commonly referred to as the spines—which led from the outermost edges of Aitkenna to the seat of the planet’s global government. Usurped by the Dusahn, it now served as their seat of power on Corinair and throughout the Darvano system. Other than Lord Dusahn’s palace on Takara, it was the largest, most well-defended asset in the Dusahn Empire. As such, its capture was imperative to the liberation of the entire system.

  The boulevards were four lanes wide on each side and were separated by an equally wide, lavishly landscaped meridian, over which the eight main transit lines hung. The spines were the result of five years of reconstruction and represented the eight great nations of Corinair that had combined to form a new global government after their liberation from the rule of Caius Ta’Akar nearly nine years ago.

  Today, there was no traffic, only the Corinari tanks rolling steadily toward the center of Aitkenna, exchanging fire with Dusahn ground units as they advanced.

  Behind the tanks, squads of Corinari ground forces huddled within the safety of each tank’s shield bubble. The goal was to get the troops as close to the capital building as possible, reducing the Dusahn force strength as they approached. If the building could be taken intact, it would save the Corinairan people years of rebuilding, and allow their government to quickly resume operations, avoiding the post-battle chaos that had threatened to consume the city after the last liberation.

  Unfortunately, the Dusahn were determined to maintain control of the capital, as well as the planet. They knew the Alliance did not have the resources to fight a prolonged surface war, which was why they had paid little attention to the Dusahn assets elsewhere on the planet. The Corinari wanted Aitkenna, and its capital, intact, and the Dusahn knew it. At the moment, that knowledge was the Dusahn’s greatest asset.

  “New contact,” the Orochi sensor officer reported. “Comm-drone.”

  “Incoming message,” the comms officer reported. “Targeting data and strike time.”

  “How long?” Robert asked.

  “Zero plus twenty-one,” the ensign replied. “Transmitting targeting data and strike time to Bulldogs Two, Three, and Four.”

  Robert glanced at the mission clock. “Jesus, that’s only ninety seconds. Can we make that launch time?” he wondered as he rose from his chair and headed for the tactical station.

  “It’s going to be close,” his XO replied as he loaded the strike data into the missile launch computer. “Can you select the warhead loads while I finish entering the targeting data and jump parameters?”

  “I’m on it,” Robert assured him as he began selecting warheads for all the missiles.

  “Can we even cycle twenty-four missiles so quickly?” the helmsman wondered.

  “Half the missiles are already loaded with shield penetrators,” Robert informed the young lieutenant. “A full strike doesn’t launch all missiles simultaneously. The simultaneous strike happens by synchronizing their departure jump.”

  “Starboard launchers are ready,” his XO reported. “Port will be ready in ten seconds.”

  “Launch starboard missiles,” Robert instructed. “Durkan, tell Two, Three, and Four to launch all missiles as they are ready. I’ll initiate the strike jump manually.”

  “For all missiles, from all Orochi?” the comms officer asked, surprised.

  “Do it!” Robert barked, no time to debate the issue.

  The comms officer jumped into action, sending the updated instructions to the other ships.

  “Christ, Robert,” his XO said under his brea
th. “Scott ordered a two-second time-to-target.”

  “Yeah, I know, not much wiggle room for him.”

  “Starboard missiles are away,” the XO reported.

  “Two, Three, and Four are launching missiles,” Ensign Lief reported from the sensor station. “Twenty seconds to strike time.”

  “Port launchers are turning green,” the XO reported. “Launching as they are ready.”

  “Damn this is going to be close,” Robert said as he slid open the clear plastic cover on the manual strike jump button and positioned his finger over it.

  “Five seconds,” the sensor officer warned, beginning the final countdown.

  General Telles rolled to his right to avoid an incoming sonic mortar round, coming back to his feet with both forearms firing. Over three thousand Dusahn troops had initially responded to the Ghatazhak incursion on the streets of Answari, but now they numbered less than three hundred.

  And that number was falling rapidly.

  With no more targets in the immediate area, General Telles took off in a controlled run toward the next intersection fifty meters ahead.

  “I am detecting a power surge atop the building on the northwest corner of the next intersection,” the general’s AI warned.

  “Identify the source,” the general demanded as he continued toward the intersection. Four enemy soldiers suddenly stepped out of the building to his right, opening fire on the general.

  General Telles did not flinch as the incoming weapons fire lit up the right side of his personal shields. He also paid them no heed, since he knew his CAPS AI would deal with the threat.

  As he ran, a laser turret sprang from the right topside of his back armor, swinging to the right and opening fire, emitting a rapid succession of bright yellow flashes from its tiny, twin barrels.