Ep.#3 - Resurrection (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “Without hesitation,” Lara replied immediately.

  Cameron was taken aback. She hadn’t expected such a quick response. In retrospect, she realized that she should have, as the commander had always been impulsive, making decisions on instinct rather than taking the time to think it through, like Cameron usually did. At that moment, she realized her executive officer was much like Nathan in that sense. That was probably why Cameron had always felt comfortable with Lara as her second in command. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “Without thinking it over first?”

  “Why would I? I trust you, Cam. I always have. More importantly, I know how carefully you think things through. I also know that you don’t break the rules without a really good reason. So, if you feel it’s important enough to risk your career, then so do I.” Lara smiled, adding, “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  Cameron breathed a sigh of relief. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

  “So, what are you thinking…hypothetically?”

  Cameron took a deep breath before replying. “I’m going to take the Aurora to the Pentaurus cluster.” She suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from her, having finally shared her decision with someone, especially the one person she truly needed to back her. If anyone would be able to successfully oppose her, and rightfully so, it would be the ship’s executive officer.

  “Hot damn!” Lara exclaimed. “Jesus, Cam. When you decide to break a rule, you don’t fuck around, do you?”

  Cameron suddenly remembered the other old friend Lara reminded her of. “You know me,” Cameron replied sheepishly. “Do it right, or don’t do it at all.”

  “So what made you decide to go rogue?” Lara asked excitedly.

  “I’ve got something I need you to see,” Cameron replied, picking up the remote from the table, and pointing it at the view screen.

  Cameron watched her XO as the video started.

  “Where is this?” Lara asked. “And who is that?” she added as Nathan stepped into the shot and began to speak. “Wait, did he say Nathan?” she asked, glancing at Cameron.

  “Yup.”

  Lara looked at her again. “As in Nathan Scott? Captain Nathan Scott?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Oh…my…God,” Lara gasped as she continued to watch the video. “I thought he was dead.”

  “We all did,” Cameron replied.

  “This is unreal,” Lara said, her eyes never leaving the screen. I’ve seen plenty of video footage of him. Take away the beard and the long hair…” She looked at Cameron again. “When did you get this?”

  “Recently.”

  “How did you get this?”

  “That, I cannot say.”

  “Did the President’s aide send it to you?”

  Cameron didn’t answer.

  “You can’t say that, either,” Lara realized.

  “Correct.”

  “Wait, he’s talking to you now,” Lara said.

  A minute later, the explosions started, surprising Lara the same way they had startled Cameron the first time she had watched the video. When the message ended, the commander sat there speechless and in shock, just like Cameron.

  Finally, Lara turned to her. “You think it’s legit?”

  “Well, there’s no real way to be sure, other than to go to the Pentaurus sector,” Cameron admitted. “But yeah, I believe it’s really him.”

  “If anyone should know, it would be you,” Lara agreed. “But you should still have Shinoda’s people look at it.”

  “I plan to,” Cameron agreed.

  “Has Commander Kamenetskiy seen this?” Lara asked, remembering how close the Aurora’s chief engineer had been to the former captain of the Aurora.

  “Yes. I showed him immediately after I saw it.”

  “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that he’s totally on board with going to the Pentaurus sector.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Cameron assured her. “He’s probably overriding the jump range safeties as we speak, just to be ready.”

  Lara leaned back in her chair, the reality of the situation sinking in. “Jesus, Cam… This is big. I mean, really big. Fucking huge, in fact. It’s Nathan Scott… Na-Tan.”

  “Please, don’t call him that. I hate that stupid name.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “To be honest, I don’t really have one yet. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Outstanding,” Lara grinned in anticipation. “I’m your girl. I know exactly what we need to do.”

  “You do?” Cameron relied, surprised.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve run such scenarios a thousand times. It’s my job as XO to keep an eye out for such things.”

  “I thought that was Shinoda’s job,” Cameron pointed out.

  “Well, technically. Okay, so it’s my job to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t go rogue.”

  “In that case, you’re doing a lousy job, Commander.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lara replied, grabbing one of the data pads to get started planning.

  Cameron shook her head. “Jess is gonna love you.”

  * * *

  Connor stood at the aft end of the Seiiki’s cargo deck, waiting for the Seiiki to make what would be their fourth training jump of the day. To his left was General Telles, and standing behind him were Michi and Tori, the two Nifelmian cloning specialists.

  The first jump had been easy. At first, he wasn’t sure if Doctor Sato was going to be brave enough to exit the ship. It had seemed so low, despite the fact that it was the highest jump of the day. But once the jump was completed, and they were on the ground, even Michi had to admit that the jump had been exhilarating. And, as promised, the jump system had automatically navigated them right to the target, every one of them landing with ease.

  The second jump had also gone well, although Tori had lost his balance while landing and tumbled over. They had all been better about recovering their canopies as well, which required them to brace while the pack reeled in their lines and canopy. At first, Connor had wondered why they couldn’t simply drop their gear and run, but the general had explained that leaving the gear out in the open might alert the Dusahn that someone had jumped out of the ship, and that it wasn’t just spreading leaflets warning the citizens of Corinair of the impending attack.

  The third jump had been even lower than the first two, and to Connor, it seemed as if they were traveling a bit faster upon landing. Just like the previous two jumps, Connor had felt more at ease than he expected, and almost felt as if, as Nathan Scott, he had done this before. Only now did he realize that Nathan must have made many training jumps during his time as a fighter pilot.

  Loki’s voice counted down the last few seconds before their fourth practice insertion jump. This time, they were jumping at the planned mission jump altitude of one hundred meters, one third of the height of their last jump, which Connor had already thought was impossibly low.

  The count reached zero. Connor imagined the windows in the Seiiki’s cockpit turning opaque, as there were no windows in her cargo bay where they waited.

  “Jump complete,” Loki announced, as the cargo door began to swing quickly downward.

  Air rushed in. The Seiiki’s ground speed was quite low compared to her normal rate of travel, but it was enough to fill the cabin with blustering currents of air from all sides as the cargo ramp fell open. When the ramp passed the level, General Telles held up his right hand, signaling that they would jump in five seconds.

  Despite instructions to the contrary, Connor glanced at the ground below that rushed past them. It was too low, too fast.

  Four seconds after putting his hand up, the general’s open
hand became a fist, and a second after that, he pointed forward and ran out toward the aft end of the ramp, jumping into the air.

  Connor ran right beside him, leaping into the air less than a step behind the general. Three seconds later, he heard and felt the dispersal charges in his pack firing, sending his chute upward and away from his back. The charges directed the four corners of the canopy away from him, forcing it to catch the air as quickly as possible. Once open, the lines yanked at Connor’s harness, pulling him backwards. As his feet swung down and under him, then out in front, the force spun him around one hundred and eighty degrees, in the direction of travel.

  There, not fifty meters below and one hundred meters ahead of him, was the landing site the general and his men had marked out with poles and colored ropes.

  High over the elevated rails, stay down the center, flare just before you cross the near side of the landing pad. Connor repeated this to himself at least three times on the way down. The nav-system might be able to steer him to the landing sight, but he had to control his rate of descent, as well as his flare, to land.

  Twenty seconds into the jump and with his canopy fully deployed, Connor reached up and grabbed his control rings. He glanced to his right, spotting the general only ten meters away and two meters ahead of him. The general looked calm and relaxed, like he had made such jumps hundreds of times.

  Connor could feel his heart racing, his breathing speeding up. He pulled at his control rings as he glided over the poles which marked the location of the elevated railways. Connor wondered if the poles were set to the height of the actual rails, with or without a tram car running along them.

  He cleared the poles. Five seconds later, he pulled again to flare, slowing both his rate of descent, as well as his forward ground speed, as he crossed the near side of the simulated landing pad. His flare was a touch high, and he landed harder than the previous jump, but he was down safely, only forty-six seconds after jumping from the Seiiki.

  Connor continued running forward and to his left, making room for Doctor Sato, who would be landing behind him only five seconds after he touched the ground. As he ran, he grabbed the big retract knob at the center of his chest piece and gave it a twist to his left, activating his pack’s canopy retraction system. He could hear the winch whirring, and could feel the increased drag pull him backwards slightly as his canopy, still partially inflated, tried to pull him backwards. He leaned forward as he ran, adjusting his angle and stride as the canopy was reeled in and the pull against him decreased.

  Once his canopy was fully retracted into his pack, he changed course and ran toward the two poles marking the main entrance to Ranni Enterprises as a gust of wind came up from behind. A shadow crossed over him as he ran, and he looked up to see Doctor Megel sailing over the general and into the red ropes strung between the poles. The Nifelmian had flared too late and had overshot the landing pad by more than twenty meters. The doctor plowed through the red ropes, pulling them off their poles, landing in a tangled mess more than ten meters past.

  A few seconds later, Connor arrived at the poles marking the entrance to the building, coming to a stop next to General Telles. A few seconds later, Doctor Sato came up behind him.

  “You just crashed into the building,” General Telles said flatly as he walked over to help Doctor Megel untangle himself from the red marker ropes.

  “So, I’m dead then?” Tori asked sheepishly.

  “Doubtful,” the general replied. “You would probably survive the impact. However, you would likely be injured, which would create an additional burden on your team, thus jeopardizing the success of the mission, as well as the survival of your teammates.”

  “Sorry,” Tori said as he got to his feet.

  “Do not be sorry,” the general said. “Identify the problem, and learn from it. Why did you flare so late?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to have to flare so quickly. I forgot that, because we were jumping from a lower altitude than before, our descent time would be considerably less.”

  “Very good. Remember that next time. Think of the site picture, not the time it takes to get to the ground. That is why we have marked everything out for you. Learn from your mistake, and correct the error on your next jump.”

  “I’ll get it right next time,” Doctor Megel promised the general.

  “Do not be ashamed, Doctor. As your colleague pointed out, you are doctors, not soldiers. And for doctors, you are doing quite well.”

  “And as soldiers?” Connor wondered, wishing he hadn’t before the question left his lips.

  “Not so well,” the general admitted, heading toward the Seiiki that was landing fifty meters away.

  Connor looked at the two Nifelmians, both looking as tired as he felt. “Not so well,” he echoed.

  “I don’t know,” Michi said, “I think I did pretty well that time.”

  * * *

  Captain Taylor and Commander Kaplan marched down the corridor of the Aurora’s command deck toward the command briefing room, two ship’s security personnel in tow. As the captain entered, Commander Kaplan paused and whispered instructions to the senior of the two guards. As she followed the captain into the briefing room, the guard discretely relayed her instructions into his comm-set.

  “Attention on deck!” the guard inside the room barked as the captain and the executive officer entered the compartment.

  For the first time since any of them could remember, the captain did not immediately order those in attendance to remain seated. More than a few worried glances were exchanged among the command staff as they waited for their captain to get to the head of the conference table and give the order, ‘as you were.’

  Captain Taylor reached her spot at the head of the conference table, Commander Kaplan standing at the chair to her right. The captain nodded at the guard inside the door, who then stepped out, securing the door behind him, as did the guard on the aft entrance.

  The officers exchanged more concerned glances when the status lights on the door control panels changed from green to red, indicating that the doors were now locked…from the outside.

  Captain Taylor looked at each of her senior officers, all still standing at attention. “Before we begin, I must warn you all that what you are about to learn must be held in the strictest of confidence. I am about to trust each of you with information that only a handful of people in the entire galaxy know. The decisions you make in this room in the next hour will not only change your lives, but those of your families, friends, and quite possibly the futures of countless others. If any of you have any doubts as to whether or not you are comfortable with such responsibility, I beg of you to dismiss yourselves now, without repercussions.” She looked at her officers again, noting that not one of them so much as flinched.

  She was not surprised.

  “As you were,” she finally ordered, taking her seat.

  The officers in attendance glanced at one another again as they took their seats. Only this time, looks of curiosity were mixed with those of concern.

  “Before I continue, I would like to assure you that I thought long and hard before I made my decision, considering every possible angle and outcome. I regret that none of you will have that luxury, as I will require your decisions by the end of this meeting. I also regret that I cannot reveal to you the information that prompted my decision, until after I have each of yours. Rest assured, I am doing this as much for your protection, as for that of the mission.”

  Captain Taylor scanned the faces of her officers again, looking for indications that any of them might already have doubts, but found none. “As you all know, ships of Jung design have been detected and intercepted at various locations within Alliance space, and the deepest penetration thus far has been just outside the Sol system. The Alliance has successfully repelled each intrusion, and has even destroyed a total of six
ships to date. In response to these clear and blatant violations of our standing cease-fire agreement with the Jung, the Alliance has destroyed several key military assets belonging to the Jung, using super-JKKV strikes. Each of these assets was well within Jung space. As you might expect, the reaction of the Jung population has been a general call for retaliation. However, since the KKV strike, no Jung ships have been detected within Alliance space. If the Jung were violating Alliance territory, they appear to have stopped doing so, at least for the time being.”

  Cameron paused for a moment, again checking the faces of her officers, and giving them a chance to question her, if desired.

  “You also know that on the same day Jung ships started appearing in Sol space, Jung ships invaded both Takara and Darvano, destroying the Avendahl and at least eight other warships. Those forces now control the entire Pentaurus cluster, and local intelligence expects them to expand their area of control to include the entire sector before long.”

  “Local intelligence?” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda wondered.

  “I’ll get to that,” Cameron promised, continuing. “What most of you do not know is that local intelligence has discovered the Jung ships in the Pentaurus sector are operated by a Jung caste known as the Dusahn.”

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda interrupted, “the Dusahn caste left the Jung sector centuries ago. We don’t really know why, but we suspect they had some sort of a falling out with the Jung leadership caste at the time. There is even speculation that they attempted to seize control, but failed.”

  “I don’t suppose any of this is verified?” Cameron wondered.

  “No, sir. But, if I might ask, how did you get this information, but Fleet intelligence did not?”

  “I don’t know that they didn’t,” Cameron replied. The reactions she saw to her accusation were as she had expected.