Ep.#10 - Retaliation (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  Aiden looked at his unconscious crew again, wishing he was in the same state at the moment.

  “Three down!”

  “Five seconds!”

  “Come on, Merlyn!”

  Vladimir couldn’t help but turn his head toward the incoming weapon. If he was about to meet his fate, he would do so head on, with his eyes wide open. He stared at the white dot, watching as it rapidly grew in size, red-orange streams of plasma energy racing toward it from all directions.

  “Three seconds!” Kasma warned. “Brace!”

  Vladimir continued to stare at the white dot, which was now plain to see. There was a blinding flash of light, and then a million tiny flashes of pale blue all over the shimmering wall that protected him as debris from the destroyed missile slammed into the shields that Striker One had extended around them. “Gospadee!”

  “That was fucking close!”

  “Tui nye znayesh,” Vladimir mumbled.

  Aiden collapsed onto the deck next to Charnelle’s unconscious body, the stress and frustration of being unable to defend himself was more than he could bear.

  “New contacts!” Striker One’s sensor officer said again.

  “Oh, God,” Aiden mumbled.

  “Four Dusahn gunships!”

  “Maintain positions!” Robert ordered. “Defend against missiles only. Manamu, break off! Break off!”

  Aiden knew what he had to do. He summoned all his strength, taking several deep breaths before speaking. “You have to abort, sir,” he said, his voice unsure and broken.

  “Just hang tight, Aiden,” Robert replied. “It sounds worse than it really is.”

  “Bullshit,” Aiden replied. “This is insane. You have to abort! You can’t all die just to save us! It doesn’t make any sense!”

  “He’s right, Robert,” Sasha said.

  “This isn’t my first hot rescue, Ensign,” Robert barked angrily, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll be the one to decide when it’s time to fucking abort!”

  “Robert,” Sasha urged.

  “That goes for you, too, Kraska!” he snapped at his copilot. “Gunners, be ready! Those gunships don’t have any missiles, so they’re going to do hit-and-run passes. I can’t maneuver to bring our torpedo tubes to bear or I’ll lose shields on Striker Three.”

  “We can’t shoot down gunships with mark ones, Captain,” Sheshan said from the starboard gun turret.

  “Maybe not,” Robert replied, “but we can weaken their shields with each pass, and then maybe one of our Reapers can get a lucky shot.”

  “We’ll make it hurt,” Merlyn insisted from the port gun.

  “Manamu, Striker One, you still with us?”

  Two seconds later, Captain Madrid replied. “We’re two light seconds out, coming about for another approach.”

  “You read my mind, Captain,” Robert replied. “Match our course and speed, and be sure to calculate our drift. Jump in with your back toward whoever the fuck is attacking us at the moment.”

  “We’ll jump in right on top of Striker Three, scoop them up quick, and jump away,” Captain Madrid replied, standing confidently at her command podium.

  “Are you kidding?” Garland said.

  “Hell no.”

  “Just give me a three-second warning before you jump so I can drop shields and veer away,” Robert replied.

  “You got it,” Sheba answered.

  Garland turned and looked at his captain, his face forlorn and uncertain. “I……I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “I need to know right now, Garland,” the captain demanded.

  “I can’t,” Garland admitted. “I’m not good enough.”

  “Clear the chair,” Sheba ordered, moving quickly toward the helm.

  “Captain,” Garland begged as he rose and stepped aside, not wanting her to attempt the incredibly dangerous maneuver either.

  “I understand that you don’t think you’re good enough, Garland,” she said as she prepped for the jump. “It’s okay. I’d rather you didn’t try if you aren’t certain you can pull it off.”

  “This isn’t what this ship is built for,” he told her. “This isn’t what her crew is trained for.”

  “You’re right, but we’re here, and they need us.”

  “Are you sure you can do it?” he asked, challenging her.

  “Damn right I am,” she replied without hesitation. “Now, pay attention and learn something.”

  Garland stepped back and to the side, watching as his captain began punching in jump parameters.

  “I’m going to need hyper-accurate sensor ranging on that wreckage, Tobi,” Sheba instructed.

  “You’ll have it,” her sensor officer assured her. “Vemados, is that bay all the way open?”

  “Yes, sir,” her first officer replied.

  “Be ready down there,” she warned. “We’re going to jump in right on top of Striker Three, so she’ll be slipping into the bay as soon as we come out of the jump.”

  “Okay,” the first officer replied, trying his best to hide his disbelief.

  “Reapers, take up positions around us,” Robert ordered as he prepared his gunship to jump away. “Maintain a distance of five hundred meters in all directions to make room for the Manamu. If anything jumps inside that sphere, chase them out, pronto. Otherwise, defend against missiles only, and let our shields take the incoming plasma fire.”

  “Shields are down to fifty percent,” Sasha warned, “and we haven’t even taken that many direct hits.”

  “Extending our shields is putting a hell of a strain on the starboard emitters,” Renny warned.

  Robert ignored their warnings. He was well aware of the situation, but it was their job to report such things to their captain.

  “Striker One, Manamu,” Captain Madrid called over comms. “Starting our approach. Estimate one minute to our jump point.”

  “We’re ready, Sheba,” Robert replied.

  “Two octos, attacking from four high,” Kasma reported.

  “I’ve got them,” Sheshan reported.

  “Five and Six are attacking the inbound octos from the target’s left and above,” Lieutenant Haddix warned.

  “Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Sheshan replied, “I won’t shoot you. Just warn me if you overtake the targets so I can cease-fire.”

  “This is insane,” Sasha commented under his breath.

  Robert paid him no mind.

  “Feed me your latest, Tobi,” Captain Madrid ordered as she piloted the Manamu toward its jump point.

  “Your console’s tied to mine, Captain. You’re getting them as I do.”

  “Very good,” Sheba stated calmly.

  Garland watched in amazement as his captain expertly manipulated the cargo ship’s flight controls, bringing the ship onto the precise course and speed needed for the jump. Garland’s training had never really involved precision jumping since cargo ships never needed to execute them. But his captain’s training had been different. She had honed her skills flying supply shuttles into the Koho Valley on Bankote Alpha, during the Coorish Rebellion. But those had been much smaller ships with far more precise navigational systems.

  “Contact!” Tobi warned. “In the arrival zone! Two octos! Diving on Striker One!”

  “Thirty seconds to jump point,” Sheba warned. “Clear that bogey out of there, or we’ll have to abort and set up a new approach.”

  “Reaper One and Two are on it!”

  “Fuck!” Tobi exclaimed. “Another contact! A cruiser! Four hundred thousand kilometers at two five one, forty down relative!”

  “Twenty seconds,” Sheba warned. “Clear that fucking jump zone!”

  “Captain Nash, please, you’ve got to abort,” Aiden begged, his head down in anguish as he sat on the deck next to Charnelle.

  “Aiden,” Robert replied with sorrow in his voice, like a man defeated.

  “It’s over, sir.” He put his arm around Charnelle, pulling her unconscious body to his own. “We both know it.”


  “I’m sorry, kid.”

  Aiden looked at his sleeping crew through the blurred vision of his tear-filled eyes. He had brought them here, and their deaths would be his fault. He turned his head toward Charnelle, burying his nose in her hair. “I should’ve told you I love you,” he whispered. “You knew, though, didn’t you?”

  Robert closed his eyes, drawing the strength to say the words. “Striker One to all ships…”

  “Contacts!” Kasma interrupted. “Gunyoki! Dozens of them! And Striker Two!”

  “What the fuck, Bobby!” Captain Roselle called over comms. “You having a shindig without us?”

  Robert felt as if he was going to explode with joy. “It’s BYOB, asshole!” he cried out over comms.

  “If you mean bring your own bombs, then we’re ready to party! Who do you want us to dance with first?”

  “That cruiser looks lonely!”

  “Recovery zone is clear!” the pilot from Reaper One announced.

  “Everyone stay out of the recovery zone! Manamu is jumping in close!”

  “Gunyoki!” Vol Kaguchi called over comms. “Alpha flight on octos! Bravo flight on gunships! Charlie and Delta on the cruiser! GONZEE!”

  “You can’t,” Aiden begged. “Please! Abort!”

  “Shut the fuck up, kid!” Captain Roselle barked. “You’re gettin’ rescued whether you like it or not!”

  “Five-second warning!” Captain Madrid announced over comms.

  “Here we go,” Robert announced. “Dropping shields.”

  “Let’s bloody that cruiser’s nose,” Captain Roselle declared as he pressed the jump button on his gunship’s flight control stick. A split second later, a Dusahn cruiser appeared, coming straight at them, so close that it filled their front windows.

  Gil pressed the firing button, sending waves of plasma torpedoes at the surprised enemy warship. The cruisers shields flashed a bloody-amber with each torpedo impact. Streams of plasma cannon energy streaked forward from either side of the gunship as both side gunners swung their turrets forward and joined in the barrage.

  As the enemy warship’s forward shields flashed with the impacts, the cruiser’s own gun turrets swung around to face forward, opening fire only a few seconds after the barrage began.

  Now it was the gunship’s shields that flashed bright orange as enemy fire tried to bring their protective energy barrier down.

  “Shields at seventy percent,” his copilot warned. “Five hundred meters and closing fast!”

  Gil held his firing button down a few more seconds, trying to weaken the enemy ship’s shields as much as possible for the Gunyoki, whom he knew would continue the attack after he jumped clear. After a few more rounds, he released the button and pulled back on his flight control stick, pitching up to a clear jump line before pressing the jump button to escape the return fire.

  The cacophony of battle ceased as they jumped away, and Gil immediately pulled the gunship into a tight turn to come about. “Coming around for another pass,” he announced.

  “Same as before?” his copilot wondered.

  “Don’t worry, Pip,” Gil replied, “by the time we make our next pass, the Gunyoki will be swarming all over them, keeping their guns busy and off of us.”

  “Just the way I like it,” Pip agreed.

  “Two gunships, two o’clock high! Twelve clicks! Crossing right to left!” Isa announced from the back seat of Shenza One.

  “Tariq, attack pattern alpha four,” Vol instructed.

  “Lead the way,” Tariq replied from Shenza Two.

  “Tham, Alayna, alpha five, plus five. We’ll follow with bravo four and six.”

  “If the targets last that long,” Tham replied.

  Vol smiled as he rolled into a right turn. A quick tap of his jump button and his ship transitioned to a point directly aft of the targets, about two light minutes behind them. He quickly changed course again, turning hard left onto the same course as the targets. He quickly adjusted his jump range and then glanced at his tactical display. “Ready, Tariq?”

  “Ready!”

  Vol pressed the jump button on his flight control stick and then quickly moved it to the firing button on the left. The two gunships appeared directly ahead of him, only a few hundred meters away. He pressed his firing button, and thick bolts of plasma energy spewed forth from the barrels on the front of his engine nacelles. The shields of the left gunship flashed brilliantly as the plasma energy slammed into them. The gunship banked left, trying to evade the incoming fire as they prepared to jump away, but Vol anticipated the maneuver, turning with them and keeping up the barrage while maneuvering. Within seconds, the enemy gunship’s aft shields collapsed, its emitters exploding in showers of sparks. The subsequent bolts of plasma tore through the tail of the gunship, breaking it apart and quickly causing secondary explosions that doomed the ship and its crew.

  Garland’s eyes widened as he watched his captain calmly activate the cargo ship’s jump drive, sending it toward a target area far smaller than any sane pilot of such a ship would ever dare to attempt.

  “Bogey in the recovery zone!” Striker One’s sensor officer warned.

  “I’m on him!” Lieutenant Haddix declared from Reaper Six.

  Energy bolts streaked past him on either side. Vladimir looked up, still hugging the wreckage. A Dusahn octo fighter was heading right for them, guns blazing as the ship jinked left and right, trying to avoid fire from distant Reapers.

  “There’s no time!” Robert warned.

  An energy bolt slammed into the portable fusion reactor, a scant three meters away from him, causing it to blow apart. The explosion sent debris flying in all directions, a piece of which hit the exposed structural beam that was Vladimir’s anchor point.

  Reaper Six appeared directly behind the octo, immediately opening fire with everything it had. The octo turned away and jumped, after which Reaper Six also disappeared.

  Vladimir reached for the wreckage as he tumbled away but could not reach it in time. Pieces of debris from the exploded fusion reactor streaked past him on all sides, miraculously missing his suit and sparing his life, but he was now adrift.

  An enormous, blue-white flash suddenly lit up the wreckage, causing Vladimir to instinctively shut his eyes to avoid being blinded by the brilliant light. His skin crawled as his EVA suit was bathed with residual jump energy. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up. The Manamu loomed over him, upside down by his perspective. She was so close, had her overhead cargo bay doors been closed, he could have reached out and touched them.

  And it was coming closer.

  “Holy shit! You did it!” Garland exclaimed. The ship rocked and vibrated as multiple objects impacted their hull.

  “Debris field!” Tobi warned.

  “Nothing we can do about it now,” Captain Madrid replied as she manipulated the Manamu’s flight controls. “Translating up toward them.”

  “Easy, Captain,” Garland urged.

  Sheba just glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a smirk on her face.

  “Hull breach!” Ewan warned from the engineering station. “Multiple breeches! Outer hull only!”

  Sheba paid no attention, focusing solely on the task at hand.

  “Five meters to threshold!” Tobi announced. “Slow it down, Sheba, or they’ll slam into the deck!”

  Sheba fired her thrusters again, decreasing their closure rate.

  “Manamu, Striker One! That cruiser is bearing down on you!” Robert warned over comms. “They’ll be within firing range in thirty seconds. You need to get the hell out of there!”

  “I’m working on it,” Sheba replied calmly.

  “Threshold!” Tobi announced excitedly. “They’re in the bay!”

  Sheba fired her thrusters one last time, matching the speed and drift of the wreckage as best she could. “It’s all yours, Vemados!”

  “Brace for impact!” the Manamu’s deck chief called over comms.

  Aiden wrapped both his arms around Charnel
le’s still-unconscious body, spreading his legs out to steady them both for what he hoped would be a relatively soft landing.

  One way or another, their ordeal was about to end.

  Vladimir watched with an oddly detached fascination as what was left of Striker Three passed the overhead doors and descended into the Manamu’s cargo bay. The sight was surreal, as was his instinct to reach out and grab hold of the edge of the cargo bay door as he passed it, following the wreckage in. As soon as he had both hands firmly grasping the door’s edge, he realized that if he had continued drifting, he would have just landed gently on the Manamu’s cargo deck. But adrift was adrift, and Vladimir didn’t like it one bit.

  “Closing cargo bay doors,” Ewan reported over comms.

  Jenna took aim and fired her grappler gun, sending its projectile sailing toward the wreckage of Striker Three as it drifted over their heads toward the midship bulkhead, aft of her. Two more of her deck crew also fired their grapplers, getting three lines attached to the wreckage in total. Each of them quickly plugged the base of their grappling guns to the deck, and the guns automatically reeled in the extra slack in the lines, bringing the drifting object to a dead stop, floating two meters above the Manamu’s forward cargo deck.

  Vemados looked at the wreckage. “Where is Commander Kamenetskiy?”

  Jenna looked around, as well, spotting Vladimir hanging onto the edge of the overhead cargo doors. “Up there!”

  Vemados looked up, spotting the commander clinging to the overhead bay doors as they began to slowly slide closed.

  “Report!” Captain Madrid demanded over comms.

  “Seven souls aboard!” Jenna replied, beating the first officer to the punch.

  “Prepare to jump!” Sheba replied.

  “You can come down now, Commander,” Vemados said.

  “Not until these doors are closed!” Vladimir insisted as he pulled himself around the edge of the door and inside.

  The compartment was suddenly jolted, knocking Aiden and Charnelle over. He quickly corrected himself, immediately checking that Charnelle was unharmed.