Exodus: Tales of The Empire: Book 2: Beasts of the Frontier.

by Doug Dandridge

  “You been out to the frontier?” asked Cornelius as he climbed into his chamber, sitting next to Katlyn’s.

  “A dozen times,” said the tech. “I really prefer it to the core worlds. Tens more years of this and I plan to start a new life out there as well.”

  “A new life,” said Cornelius as the needles were inserted into his arms. Then the world faded and he knew no more.

  “What happened?” he asked a different tech as his eyes opened. “What went wrong?”

  “Nothing,” said the tech. “You’re going to be a little disoriented for a bit. But you’re here, at your destination. We’re about ready to wake your wife.”

  Cornelius sat up in his cryo box and tried to get out. “Take it easy,” said the tech, putting his hand on Cornelius’ chest.

  “I promised my wife I would be there when she came to,” said Cornelius, pushing the hand away and climbing out of the box. He staggered over to the next box and looked down on his wife, still undergoing the process of reawakening. He stood over her till her eyes fluttered, then opened. She saw him and focused, a smile touching her lips.

  “We made it, honey,” he said, grasping her hand.

  The flight to the surface was bumpy, in an old shuttle that had seen better days. They walked out onto a tarmac that was relatively unscared. A flock of flying creatures, not birds, flew overhead, and they looked up, then started walking to the terminal.

  “We made it,” said Cornelius, squeezing Katlyn’s hand. “We made it.”

  “To our new life,” she said, looking into his eyes. “And a family. As soon as we can, I want to start a family.”

  “I can do that,” said Cornelius with a laugh. “It will definitely be my pleasure.”

  Goliath

  Sometimes the beasts of the frontier are sentient, though no less violent than those who hunt and kill on instinct alone. Some are large and deadly, though their tech allows them to control weapons larger and deadlier still. But they are not indestructible, and brave men and women, even when equipped with inferior weapons, are sometimes able to become the hunters.

  Two thousand years before, humankind began to reach for the stars, using the dimension of subspace to plant colonies on nearby worlds. Then came the Ca’cadasans, an Empire that had existed for thousands of years, conquering all that was in their path. The humans were to be the next conquest, until they had committed an unforgivable sin, the killing of the heir to the Emperor by a rogue human when he landed with the ground force to accept the surrender of a colony. The human species were declared anathema, to be wiped out, their genetic heritage destroyed to the last microbe. The humans lost every battle, the Ca’cadasans possessing not just the larger navy, but tech more advanced by thousands of years. The humans sent out a number of refugee ships, the Exodus class, to save humankind by reestablishing them at other locations through the Galaxy. Only one ship was known to escape, using the more primitive technology of subspace, which the Ca’cadasans had abandoned millennia before in favor of the faster dimensions of hyperspace.

  Moving from the Orion sub arm to the Perseus, on a trip of a thousand years and ten thousand light years, the lone surviving Exodus vessel, crewed by the great grandchildren of the original crew, finally reached what seemed like the perfect place to settle. Unfortunately, it is also the home region to a number of species who were bootstrapped into space by an extinct race known as the ancients. The human race soon found itself fighting a series of wars. To lose one would mean the enslavement of the species, so they cannot afford to lose. After a thousand years the New Terran Empire has grown to become the dominant species in the region. They have strong enemies and stronger friends surrounding them, and the future looks bright for the human race.

  Only then the Ca’cadasans, still expanding, found the hated humans. But these humans are only twenty years behind in technology, and actually their superior in some. The humans have been the victors of countless wars, while the conquerors have rolled over one less advanced civilization after another. The war of extermination is on, the larger Empire against that of the smaller, consummate warriors. And the battle rages across hundreds of light years and a thousand systems, while billions go into the long night.

  * * *

  The twenty five million ton behemoth sent a surge of gravitons ahead and opened a hole into the lower dimension of hyper VI. The battleship slipped through the opening into a dimension that was no less deadly to its existence than the one it was leaving. Antimatter reactors powered down as it entered the new space, no longer needing the energy to switch dimensions, or the shielding needed to exist in hyper VII. It still needed power, a little less than a quarter that necessary for existence in the higher dimension.

  “We will arrive at the final hyper barrier in two hours,” said the Astrogator, four hands on his board, looking back at the big male who occupied the commander’s seat. The bridge was large enough to give each of the large, territorial aliens his own space. The officer’s reddish eyes squinted in the harsh blue light of the bridge, a remnant of the home environment that most of the males had never lived in.

  The Captain grunted and looked at the tactical holo that showed him nothing. Just the star and his ship. He would know nothing else about the system until he entered normal space at the edge of the hyper barrier. It’s supposed to be a relatively weak system, thought the Captain, thinking back to his brief. Not many humans, not much in the way of defense. The reason the Great Admiral had made the decision to send one ship, even if it was one of the Ca’cadasan’s largest capital vessels. The planet wasn’t important in and of itself, but it was the home of humans. And so it needed to be visited, and those humans eliminated.

  “I want all weapons powered up and all tubes loaded,” said the Captain, looking at his Weapons’ Officer. “And keep a close watch behind. Remember, they like to hang out at the barrier and catch ships coming in.”

  “They can’t have more than one of their cruisers there,” said the Weapons’ Officer with a sneer.

  “And a cruiser can still put a particle beam and some lasers up our ass,” said the Captain, pointing the index finger of his lower right hand at the other officer. “And one of their missiles can do serious harm to us. So keep a close watch. Anything out of the ordinary, any blip on the sensors, and you are to fire.”

  The admonished male gave a head shake of acknowledgement, scratching a horn with nervous energy, then looked back at his board, anything to remove the gaze of his captain.

  “Everybody, stay alert,” ordered the Captain. “And we’ll accomplish the mission, and get back to the fleet.” He left the last part unsaid. They would have rewards, both from the tasty meat of the humans, and honors from command.

  * * *

  “We have a translation, from the hyper VII dimension down to VI,” called out the Sensor Tech, a Petty Officer manning the station.

  “Ours, or theirs?” asked Lt. Commander Cinda Klerk, watching the tactical holo and dreading the answer. She was not a large woman, in fact, the captain’s chair still felt too big when she sat in it. And she had the kind of face that attracted men, which she saw as a detriment to her career, not letting her fit the image of the warrior woman.

  “Theirs,” answered the PO, a look of anxiety, no, fear showing on his face. “And it’s a big one. Twenty million tons or more.”

  It would be, thought the captain of the HIMS Joel Schumacher, one of the only two hyper capable warships in the system. She was the largest ship assigned to the Compton system. There were two more ships, both non-hyper vessels of similar class. Schumacher was the most massive of the three ships due to her carrying the extra mass of a hyperdrive. At a hundred thousand tons she was not the smallest hyper capable vessel in the Imperial Fleet. The couriers and fast attack ships were much smaller, as were attack fighters, though only the fast messengers were capable of reaching hyperspace on their own. Still, they were facing the prospect of a visit by a twenty five million ton battleship, over two hundred and fifty ti
mes her own mass.

  And we’re more suited to going head to head with pirates, thought the Lt. Commander. That was exactly what her ship had been envisioned to take on, either hunting them, or protecting merchant traffic. It was ludicrous at best to station her in a system as defense against an opponent whose smallest warship was in the six hundred thousand ton range. Especially with the special orders that came down from the Emperor himself.

  Cinda pulled up a side holo and stared at the comp representation of the enemy that was coming her way. An image originally taken thousands of years before. They haven’t changed, she thought, looking at the figure of a tall, furred biped, standing on two strong legs, double shoulders extending from the torso supporting four arms. The head was the horror, a medium muzzled, red eyed carnivore with sharp teeth showing in a grin, two large horns growing from the top of the skull. The creature stood three meters tall sans the horns, and looked very much like one of the demons she had seen in an illustrated holy book of her religion when she was a child.

  “We’re receiving a gravity pulse from New Kiev,” said the Com Officer, a young man who looked like he had just walked out of the doors of the academy. “Her captain is ordering us to support them in an action against that warship.”

  Of course he is, thought the Commander, staring at the tactical plot that showed the disposition of all vessels within the system from the graviton emissions of their drives. New Kiev was a newcomer, a hyper VI battle cruiser that happened to be visiting the system on her recon patrol. But her commander was a full captain, making him the ranking officer in the system. And a complete idiot, as far as she was concerned.

  He doesn’t stand a chance either, she thought, staring at the icon of the battle cruiser that was about twenty-five light minutes out from Compton IV, the one inhabited planet in the system. The planet was two hundred million kilometers out from the F2 primary, and the battle cruiser was almost three light hours from the hyper barrier in her current position. There was a small liner and a freighter sharing the orbitals, both doomed. One of the frigates was within several light minutes from the battle cruiser, and starting to boost toward a matching velocity, obviously positioning herself to support the capital ship.

  She found the last of the interplanetary frigates on the plot, about two light hours out on the opposite side of the primary. She might escape notice for a while, but there was no place for her to go. And what should I be doing? she thought, zooming in the plot and looking at her own surroundings. She was well on the inner side of the asteroid belt, five light minutes from the planet, cruising at point zero one light speed, slow enough for her to get rid of that velocity before the enemy ship entered the system. The inhabited planet was the closest object in her path, and her current heading would take her there. She had enough time to change her heading. But where to go?

  “Do you want to send back a response, ma’am?” asked the Com Officer, giving her an expectant look.

  He is the ranking officer in the system, dammit, thought the Captain. And as such, he is the commander of all the forces in the system. But hell, the Emperor himself ordered for all units to avoid combat, unless we can inflict equal or greater harm to the enemy. There was a really good reason for that order. Human units had regularly gotten themselves annihilated in combat involving seemingly equal forces. Too many such exchanges, and the Fleet would cease to be as an effective fighting force. And then the enemy would roll over the Empire.

  “Acknowledge by gravity wave only,” she replied after a moment’s thought. Gravitons traveled in all dimensions of hyper as well as normal space, making them detectable at faster than light speeds. It was what allowed ships to track other vessels at almost real time. The main deficiency with that mode of communication was the limited amount of information that could be sent. Essentially, it was a digital code system. And it was a broadcast system, detectable by everything within the system.

  “No vid?”

  “No,” snapped the Commander, glaring at the young man to cover her own discomfort at trying to avoid an order, even though she knew it was the wrong one. She ran a hand through her short brown hair as several of the bridge crew turned to look at her. Sweat was flowing down her freckled face, and she knew, despite her attempt at control, that her green eyes were wide with fear. What the hell am I supposed to feel. That’s death coming our way, and no damned battle cruiser is going to be able to stop them, much less a frigate. That man is an idiot, and obeying him would be a criminal act. She looked again at the plot, zooming out and looking at the icon of the enemy ship blinking its way toward the system. It’ll be twenty minutes before they could expect a vid from us. Maybe I can figure something out in that time. Something that will allow us to survive, or at least to die accomplishing more than adding extra atoms to interplanetary space.

  The plot was showing the eight million ton battle cruiser moving out from the inner system, tracked by its grabbers’ graviton emissions. The frigate Monte Barker was beside her, a dog and its flea moving out to do battle with a tiger.

  “Those poor people,” said Lieutenant JG Natalia Romanov, the Navigation Officer, staring at the main viewer.

  “That’s what they pay us for,” said the Helmsman, Ensign Garibaldi.

  “Not us,” replied the Navigator, nodding at the screen. “Those civilians, on that planet. The Cacas are going to kill every one of them, you know.”

  Cinda zoomed in on the planet on one of her side screen holos. It was a beautiful world, with maybe a little more arid area than most. Still attractive enough to entice settlers. Only fifty thousand so far, but fifty thousand dreams that were about to end. And according to the Emperor’s orders, we are supposed to abandon them as well, so we won’t waste our combat power, small as it is, for no reason. She studied the viewer, her mind trying to grasp any possible action that would actually mean something.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the tactical plot. As soon as her finger aligned with the dot it started blinking, so her crew would know where she was pointing.

  “Comet C509,” replied the Sensory Officer, looking at her board and using the unimaginative system of naming minor objects in minor systems.

  “Can we get there before the Cacas translate to normal space?”

  “I think so,” said the Navigator, looking confused. “But, aren’t we going to support the New Kiev?”

  “I asked you a question, Miss Romanov,” said the commander, maintaining eye contact with the young woman despite the urge to look away. Or at least trying to. Shame was warring with fear and anger within her, despite knowing that she was taking the correct action, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Can we make it there?”

  “I think so,” said the Navigator.

  “Then I want us behind that thing as fast as you can get us there, Mr. Garibaldi.”

  “But, our orders,” stammered the Helmsman.

  “You have your orders, from me,” yelled Cinda, jumping up from her chair and storming over to the helm station. “Now follow them, or I will relieve you of duty.”

  The Captain stomped back to her chair and threw herself back into its embrace. She forced herself to look straight ahead at the viewer, avoiding the eyes of the bridge crew, yet still feeling their eyes on her. They think I’m a coward, she cried within her own mind. And they’re right, to their manner of thinking, the young firebrands. I don’t want to die. Not for no reason. Can’t they understand that going out with that battle cruiser will make it a sure thing that they don’t make it home and see their loved ones. And for no payoff, except making the enemy waste some missiles. She slammed her hand into the chair arm and glared at the plot. If we’re going to die, we’re going to accomplish something other than stopping a missile or two. Damn if we aren’t.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Captain?” asked her Exec, Lieutenant SG Marcus Frobisher, talking over the private link from his station in the combat information center, the CIC, which also served as one of the auxiliary control st
ations on the vessel.

  “Those are my orders, Exec,” she replied in a cold voice. “And I expect no questioning of them.”

  “Just doing my job, Ma’am,” said the second in command. “That idiot is the ranking officer in the system, after all.”

  “And our orders from Fleet are to avoid action if we can’t accomplish anything,” said Cinda. “The most I can see us accomplishing here is to hide and gather data, and bring it back to the Fleet.”

  “Sounds good, ma’am,” said Frobisher in a cautionary tone. “In theory. But the officer you report to after this may not take that view.”

  “I’ll have to take that risk, Exec.”

  “What do you want us to do when we reach the comet?” asked the Helmsman.

  “How big is it?” she asked, wondering if her crazy notion would work.

  “It’s a big one,” answered the Sensory Officer, Ensign Schmidt, looking at a holographic representation on his board. “Over forty kilometers in diameter.”

  “Get us directly on the side away from the Cacas,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Match velocities, and then get some drones into the dust tail so we can see what’s going on.”

  “And then?” asked Lt. SG Jakardo, the Tactical Officer, giving her a look of disgust.

  “And then we sit and wait.” And maybe they’ll just pass us by, do their business, and leave. Then we can report back to base, and I can go through my court martial for cowardice and disobedience in the face of the enemy, while my crew is safe. And then we’ll see if it’s more important to obey a fleet directive, or some higher ranking fool on the spot. Or maybe we can actually accomplish what command would want us to do, and actually cause a little bit of harm to this enemy.

  * * *

  One second space was empty. The next, twenty-five million tons of warship exited at point three light from a hole in that space, an almost perfect circle showing the red background of hyper I. The ship was a cylinder three kilometers in length, her grabber units, the space drive of the ship, arranged in a skirt around her length. Forty domes were arrayed on the hull, her light amp weapons, while ports and hatches concealed missile tubes and particle beam projectors. The rest of the available skin, like that of most modern vessels, functioned as a sensor array. Now it drank in every photon that impacted on it, and gave the vessel a view of the space it had entered.