Ep.#7 - Who Takes No Risk (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  On his back, the sergeant fired continuously in the direction of the blast as his men advanced past him on either side, adding their own weapons fire to the barrage. Once at the doorway, the two men stopped firing and tossed their own grenades further down the corridor, then continued firing so the enemy would not be able to grab the devices and toss them back, the way the sergeant had.

  Two more explosions rocked the next corridor. Sergeant Eliason took advantage of the break in the enemy barrage, scrambling back to his feet and charging forward through the doorway into the fray. The sergeant stayed low, knowing that his men would stay high as they came in behind him, firing, as well. All three assault rifles blazed, sending a constant barrage of fire. Within seconds, three more rifles joined them, creating an unsurvivable wall of energy.

  After nearly a full minute of constant fire, the sergeant signaled his men to cease-fire. All six of them stood motionless in the smoke-filled corridor, waiting, and listening for an indication of life ahead of them. The sergeant checked his tactical display. His combat system showed no human signatures nearby, other than a few who were barely alive and not moving.

  The sergeant signaled his men to advance into the swirling smoke. They moved forward slowly, their weapons held high and ready to fire, moving back and forth, searching for targets.

  Ten meters further down the corridor, the room widened into, what appeared to be, a makeshift cellblock. Sergeant Eliason moved inside, approaching the nearest cell carefully. As he reached the bars, he spotted six men cowering in the corner. “Are you Corinari?” he called to them.

  One of the men turned to look at the sergeant. The man was older than the others, by a few years, and appeared to have been brutally beaten in recent days. “Yes,” he replied with a broken voice, rising unsteadily to his feet.

  “I am Sergeant Eliason of the Ghatazhak. We have been sent by General Telles and Captain Scott, to rescue you,” the sergeant explained. “Identify yourself.”

  “Then it is true?” the man said in disbelief. “Nathan is alive?”

  “He is.” The sergeant looked more closely at the man. “Do I know you, sir?”

  “I am Major Jonas Prechitt of the Corinari and of the Alliance.” He tried to smile. “Retired, of course,” he added, nearly breaking into tears.

  “Of course, Major,” the sergeant replied, coming to attention and holding a salute.

  Major Prechitt raised his hand and returned the salute, as best he could.

  “Assemble your men, Major,” the sergeant said, lowering his hand. “We’re getting you all out of here.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant. I hope you have a big ship,” Major Prechitt said.

  Sergeant Eliason got a puzzled look on his face. “How many of you are there, sir?”

  “At least a couple thousand,” the major replied. “You have room, don’t you?”

  “Of course, sir,” the sergeant lied. “Now please, we must not delay.” Sergeant Eliason turned and headed back toward the door, signaling his men to help the Corinari. He tapped the comms controls on the side of his helmet to change comm channels. “Seiiki, Eliason. We’re going to need more boxcars. A lot more.”

  Suvan Navarro wrestled with the controls of his damaged crawler as the precious atmosphere around him leaked rapidly into the vacuum outside. He could feel the oxygen levels decreasing, his breathing become more difficult, and his vision blurring. He glanced at his environmental readings, which were dancing all over the place. He had only seconds left as he managed to guide his crawler through the blasted open hangar doors and into the transfer tunnel on the other side. Before him, he could barely make out the sterns of two Ranni shuttles, their noses stuck into the doors at the far end of the tunnel.

  He urged the crawler forward, hoping to find one of the crawler docking stations that he knew existed inside the tunnel, but with each passing second, his ability to focus on distant objects faded. Even his near vision was becoming blurry when his console finally indicated it had detected a nearby docking port.

  Suvan pressed the emergency docking sequencer, praying that the damaged crawler still functioned well enough to auto-dock. The crawler surged clumsily forward, rocking from side to side as it struggled to reach the docking port only ten meters away. As Suvan fought to stay conscious, he felt his crawler hit something…something solid. A moment later, the door behind him popped open, and a rush of air slammed into his back, pushing him to the front of the tight confines of the crawler’s interior.

  Suvan gasped, taking in a deep breath of properly oxygenated atmosphere. The darkness around the periphery of his vision began to clear, and his eyes began to focus again. The drowsiness, which had nearly taken him over, faded with each gasping breath he took until, finally, his wits returned.

  Shaking off the effects of oxygen deprivation, Suvan reached back and up, grabbing the handles, and pulling himself through the exit hatch behind him. Still feeling uncoordinated, he fell backward through the crawler’s exit hatch, into the transfer airlock. He pulled his feet out of the crawler and rolled over, crawling on his belly the few meters to the inner door controls.

  The inner doors opened, and Suvan fell through, into the next compartment. The sound of energy weapons fire rang out from the next compartment, then from the corridor just beyond the nearby hatch. Still on the floor, Suvan looked around, somewhat dazed, searching for a weapons locker, a heavy tool, anything he could use as a weapon. As the weapons fire grew closer, the screams of pain and anguish from the men being wounded filled his ears, causing him to scramble for cover.

  But it was too late. Suddenly, a man stood before him in flat-black, full body armor. Suvan looked up at the man. His face was covered with a polarized faceplate. The man looked down at him, and his faceplate retracted into his helmet.

  “Captain Navarro, I presume?”

  “Uh…”

  “I am General Lucius Telles, leader of the Ghatazhak forces serving Captain Nathan Scott and the Karuzari Alliance. We are here to assist you, sir.”

  Captain Navarro rolled onto his back, relief washing over him. “Pleasure to meet you, General.”

  “Time is of the essence, Captain,” the general urged.

  “Just give me a moment to catch my breath,” Captain Navarro said.

  General Telles knelt down beside Captain Navarro, pulling a pneumo-ject out of a pocket on his thigh armor. He dialed in the proper medication and dosage and then pressed the device against the captain’s thigh. “This will help you recover more quickly, Captain.”

  “Thank you,” Suvan said, already feeling his strength and mental clarity returning.

  General Telles tapped the comms controls on the side of his helmet, adding a second comms channel. “This is Telles. We have made contact with Captain Navarro and are headed for the bridge.”

  “Telles, Vasya,” the corporal called urgently over comms. “Better make it quick, sir. We’ve got company coming from the port side.”

  “Captain?” General Telles said.

  “I’m ready,” Suvan replied, sitting up.

  General Telles offered his hand to the captain, helping him to his feet. “I believe you will need these,” he said, handing a comm-set and an energy pistol to him.

  Suvan Navarro looked at the confident looking man standing in front of him. He had known many Ghatazhak in his life, all of whom had the same, confident gaze. A gaze that defied fear; that defied the very concept of failure.

  Suvan was actually beginning to believe they had a chance.

  “Jump complete,” Mister Bickle announced. “We’re back in the Darvano system.”

  “Two battleships have joined the first,” Lieutenant Commander Kono announced. “Multiple gunships on the far side of Corinair. They’re still trying to pound the Ghatazhak, sir.”

  “What about the Seiiki?�
� Nathan asked.

  “Locking jump missiles on the two new battleships,” Jessica announced.

  “The Seiiki is battling the gunships,” Lieutenant Commander Kono advised. “But there’s too many for them to deal with by themselves.”

  “What about the Eagles and Raptors?”

  “They’re busy keeping reinforcements from reaching the prison,” Lieutenant Commander Kono reported.

  “Missiles away,” Jessica reported.

  “Bear on the nearest ship, Lieutenant,” Nathan ordered. “Then, jump us into firing range.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Captain,” the comms officer interrupted. “I’m picking up a message repeat from the nearest comm-buoy. The Ghatazhak have made contact with the Corinari prisoners and are preparing to move them into position for extraction. But they are asking for additional boxcars.”

  “Why?” Nathan asked.

  “Ready to jump,” Lieutenant Dinev reported.

  “Execute,” Nathan ordered.

  “Apparently there are more Corinari prisoners than anticipated.”

  “Jumping,” Mister Bickle announced as the jump flash washed over the bridge again.

  “How many more?” Nathan asked.

  “A couple thousand, minimum,” the comms officer reported.

  “I have a firing solution,” Jessica reported as the Aurora shook from the incoming weapons fire from the battleship directly ahead of them.

  “Open fire!” Nathan ordered, a new sense of urgency washing over him.

  Corinari filed out from the surface entrance of the underground prison and into the open as the shield bubble that surrounded them flashed brilliantly with each weapons impact from beyond its borders.

  The prisoners moved out, instinctively seeking cover nearby, unwilling to trust the shield itself.

  Sergeant Eliason also came out, standing tall and looking around. He studied the inside of his visor and noticed that there were nearly a hundred enemy soldiers encircling them beyond the shield perimeter. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

  “If that shield fails,” Corporal Mitchell said as he came alongside the sergeant.

  “We’re all fucked.”

  The large maintenance bay along the topside of the Teyentah’s engineering and main propulsion section flashed with white light as sparks fell from the massive overhead bay hatch. The sparks stopped suddenly, and a moment later, a portion of the hatch, approximately three meters square, fell from above, descending rather slowly in the greatly-reduced gravity of the empty bay.

  Immediately after, the first of six yellow and black crawlers floated downward through the gaping hole, their thrusters firing to accelerate their descent. One by one, they landed and began their ungainly crawl to the docking ports at the forward end of the hangar.

  The first two crawlers backed up to the docking ports, securing themselves first, as the other four crawlers stood waiting.

  Lieutenant Torren Rezhik activated the egress hatch behind him, and then pulled himself upward and out of the crawler in a smooth, efficient manner. Crouched down in the meter-square transfer airlock, he turned around to face the inner hatch and raised his weapon. He activated the inner hatch, causing it to slide open, and jumped through, into the dimly-lit compartment on the other side.

  The docking port hatch next to him also opened, and Corporal Chodan jumped into the compartment, as well.

  Both men immediately turned and entered commands into the control panel beside the access hatches. The hatches slid closed again, and the crawlers on the opposite side of the transfer airlocks automatically disconnected and moved aside, following the emergency protocols, to make room for the next crawler waiting to dock.

  “Check that corridor, and then secure that hatch,” the lieutenant ordered, moving in the opposite direction to do the same with the other hatch.

  The corporal nodded and moved away, dIsoppearing through the hatch, a moment later.

  Lieutenant Rezhik moved through the other hatch and quickly down the corridor, his weapon held high. He went as far as the next intersection but found the next corridor to be just as dimly lit and abandoned. Satisfied that they were alone for the time being, he returned to the docking compartment.

  “Nothing that way,” Corporal Chodan assured the lieutenant.

  Specialists Chervenkov and Bains jumped through the open inner hatches, joining the lieutenant and the corporal, turning around to close the hatches and make room for the last two crawlers.

  Lieutenant Rezhik tapped the comms controls on the side of his helmet. “Alpha Leader, Charlie Leader. We’re in.”

  “Captain,” one of the controllers called to Cameron from his station at the starboard side of the command and control compartment. “Comms relay from the Takar system. General Telles and his teams are inside the Teyentah, and the general has made contact with Captain Navarro.”

  “Well, that’s good news,” Cameron stated.

  “Comms relay from the Darvano system,” another controller reported. “Aurora Actual is calling for more boxcars. As many as we can send.”

  “Why?” Cameron wondered.

  “There are more Corinari prisoners than we thought, sir,” the controller replied. “About two thousand more.”

  “That might be a problem,” Cameron realized. She turned to the officer on loan to her from the crew of the Glendanon. “How many cargo haulers on board?”

  “Just the two, I’m afraid.”

  “How many people can a single class-one cargo pod hold?”

  “About three hundred, maximum, but not for very long. The life support systems for those pods are only designed to support a hundred people for a few hours.”

  Cameron thought for a moment, then tapped her comm-set. “Captain Gullen, Captain Taylor.”

  “Go ahead, Captain,” Captain Gullen replied.

  “Sir, I need you to set course for the Darvano system, and be ready to jump there on my command.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise, Captain?” Captain Gullen asked, concern in his voice.

  “Not wise but necessary, I’m afraid. I’ll explain in a few minutes. Taylor out.”

  “What are you planning?” the Glendanon’s officer wondered.

  “We’re going to have to ferry them back to us,” Cameron told him.

  “Couldn’t we do that just as easily from here?” the officer asked. “And more safely?”

  “It’s going to get dicey,” Cameron explained. “We’re going to need real-time comms to coordinate this, not this jump comm-drone crap. Trust me.”

  “Trust me?” the officer repeated. “That’s usually what people say right before all hell breaks loose.”

  Cameron sighed. “You’re not kidding.”

  * * *

  “The Aurora is jumping back and forth, carrying out attacks in both this system and the Darvano system, my lord,” General Hesson explained. “However, their tactics in each system indicate a greater effort in the Darvano system, by a two-to-one margin. And now, we have reports of intruders aboard the Teyentah.”

  Lord Dusahn looked at the general. “The Teyentah?”

  “I believe they hope to steal her from us.”

  “That’s absurd,” Lord Dusahn insisted.

  “Improbable, yes, but not impossible.”

  “But the security on the shipyards is…”

  “Centered mainly on facility access and external defense,” the general explained. “Since she is unfinished, security inside the ship is relatively light. Only thirty or forty men guarding key areas.”

  “We cannot allow that ship to be taken,” Lord Dusahn stated firmly. “It will make us appear weak in the eyes of the nobles.”

  “More importantly, my lord, it will put a battleship in the
hands of our enemy. I think that should concern you more than the appearance of weakness in the eyes of a bunch of pompous businessmen.”

  Lord Dusahn glared at his long-time advisor. “Watch your tone, old man,” he warned. “You can be replaced.”

  General Hesson swallowed his pride before he spoke. “Apologies, my lord. Sometimes, in my desire to ensure the success of your empire, I lose sight of my…boundaries.”

  “See that it does not happen again, Hesson,” Lord Dusahn warned. “My father may have tolerated your free-speaking manner, but you will find me far less tolerant.”

  “My lord,” the general nodded, showing respect to his leader, despite his contempt for the younger man. “May I offer some advice, my lord?”

  “Speak, but carefully,” Lord Dusahn warned.

  “Recall our ships from Darvano to protect the shipyards and the Teyentah.”

  “And give them over two thousand trained men? Are you mad?”

  “They are only men, my lord. Men do not win interstellar wars. Ships win such wars.”

  Lord Dusahn did not like the general’s recommendation. “I have a better idea, General. Our battleships shall continue defending the Darvano system, and they shall prevent the rescue of the Corinari.”

  “And the Teyentah?” General Hesson asked, his tone a subtle challenge to his leader’s desires, despite his earlier warning.

  “I shall protect the Teyentah,” Lord Dusahn told him, after which he stuck his finger in the general’s chest and added, “You just see that those Corinari do not get away, for I shall hold you personally responsible if they do.”

  Lord Dusahn turned around with a huff and started toward the exit. “Notify my flagship!” he barked. “I will arrive to take command, momentarily!”