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

by Ryk Brown

  “That’s a scary thought,” Commander Kaplan said.

  “Yes, it is,” Cameron agreed, leaning back in her chair. “We need to plan for battle,” she said, looking to her officers for advice.

  “Like Scott said, jump in guns blazing, and shoot anything that doesn’t look like a friendly,” Commander Kaplan said.

  “I don’t see how we can plan for anything else,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar agreed. “Not with what little intel we’ve got.”

  Cameron sighed. “Send recon drones to both Takar and Darvano. Park them outside both systems to collect data. Old light, comms, whatever. But they are not to penetrate either system. Program them to return and rendezvous with us at our final recharge layover prior to arriving at the Darvano system. I’d like to try to get a more accurate ship count, if possible. We’ve got a finite number of jump missiles on board, and I’d like to be smart about how we use them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar replied.

  Cameron shook her head. “Keep working on the problem, people. I want something a little better than ‘jump in guns blazing.’”

  * * *

  Captain Donlevy climbed into the pilot’s seat of his Keenan-class cargo pod hauler, more commonly referred to as a boxcar. Secured beneath his ship was an empty, class one cargo pod, large enough to hold up to six Takaran jump fighters, if properly arranged.

  “Boxcar Seven, Falcon One,” Ensign Lassen called over comms. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

  Josen looked at his captain. “You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Captain Donlevy replied as he strapped himself in.

  “Falcon One, Boxcar Seven,” Josen responded. “Give us a few minutes to get on course and speed for the jump.”

  “Copy that,” Ensign Lassen replied. “We’re going to jump back to Burgess to make one final check. If we don’t return before you’re ready to jump, it means the system is still clear.”

  “Understood,” Josen said.

  “Take us out, Josen,” Captain Donlevy instructed. “I don’t feel much like flying today.”

  “No problem,” Josen replied. It wasn’t often that the captain let him fly the ship. But he fully expected this trip to come up empty.

  Josen fired up the main engines and turned the ship slightly to its plotted jump course. He then tied the auto-flight system to the jump-nav computers and set the jump window for plus five minutes, which would give Falcon One plenty of time to return and warn them in case the Dusahn had returned to the Sherma system unexpectedly.

  Commander Jarso woke suddenly, jarred awake by his timer alarm. It had been three days, now, since the Dusahn had glassed Burgess, and he had been waiting at his assigned recovery point since then.

  He had no way of knowing if the Dusahn were still in the system since all systems were shut down, and he had nothing but his eyes to scan the heavens in hope of rescue.

  It was cold in his tiny cockpit. The emergency chemical heating system in his suit was barely enough to keep him from going into hypothermia. It had felt wonderful at first, since he waited as long as possible to activate it, for fear that his recovery might take longer than anticipated.

  He had rationed both his food and water, as well, and consumed only the absolute minimum needed to survive. When he could no longer swallow, he would trickle a bit of water into his mouth. When his stomach became so angry that it hurt, he would eat one quarter of an energy bar. At the very least, he would be a few pounds lighter when rescued.

  He could not help but long for the old Takaran jump fighters. They, like the Falcons, could jump repeatedly, achieving seemingly limitless ranges. But Captain Navarro had chosen to modify his fighters to follow the example of the Earth’s Super Eagles. The result had been faster, more maneuverable, and more deadly for a multi-role attack craft, but it sacrificed its range. Just like the Super Eagles of Earth, his fighter carried only enough jump energy for a cumulative range of two light years, and he had used up a significant portion of that in battle. The fact was, he had almost no jump energy left, and what little there was, he planned to channel into the ship’s environmental system once his ship’s emergency batteries were depleted.

  Commander Jarso had actually been surprised when no help had arrived after the first day. By his calculations, it would have taken the Jung no more than six hours to completely glass the planet, if that. That meant they had maintained some kind of presence within the system, beyond ending all life on Burgess. Why, he was not sure. The message was clear enough. Stand against the Dusahn, and suffer the consequences. Hanging around in case a ship returned to assess the damage to Burgess seemed a complete waste of time to him. Yet, he was well into his third day drifting in the frigid cold of deep space.

  As planned, he made sure that he was awake every hour, on the hour, for five minutes. He rubbed his eyes, then pressed the power button on his comms, listening for a friendly voice.

  Falcon One appeared on the outskirts of the Sherma system behind a blue-white flash of light. It was a tiny speck against a sea of stars, and was cold-coasting when it arrived. If anyone was in the system and wasn’t looking their way when they arrived, they would be unlikely to detect them now.

  “Jump complete. Approaching recovery point echo seven,” Ensign Lassen reported. “Checking passive sensors.” The ensign studied his sensor display for several minutes, also keeping an eye on the time display. “Still looks clear.”

  “Give him a call,” Lieutenant Teison instructed.

  “Rubber, you out there?” Ensign Lassen called over the comms. If the Dusahn were in the system, then they were far enough away that it would take at least a few minutes for them to pick up the radio call. Even if it did, it would make little sense to them.

  Ensign Lassen looked at the lieutenant, waiting. He glanced at the time display again. Only a minute left in the comm window. “Rubber, Lassen. Make a sound, any sound. Show us you’re alive.”

  As usual, Commander Jarso heard nothing but static. ‘The sound of the cosmos’ some called it. The commander thought of it as ‘the sound of death.’

  There was a crackle. Louder than usual. For a moment, he thought he heard a voice. Then it came again.

  “Rub………sen………Make………any sou…………you’re ali…”

  Commander Jarso’s eyes widened in disbelief. He glanced at his clock. There were only twenty seconds left until procedure called for comms to shut down again. “Hello!” he called out. He realized he had forgotten to press his mic button, and tried again. “Hello! This is Rubber! I’m here! I’m here!”

  “Is……at……u, Jars……” the voice called.

  “Yeah, it’s me! It’s Jarso!”

  “Power……and stand………You’re ri………a few min………away, Comman…”

  “What about the rest of them?” the commander asked. “Did you find the others?”

  “You were………first stop. We’re loo………for them now.”

  Commander Jarso felt a wave of relief wash over him.

  “Sit tight………ready,” Ensign Lassen instructed.

  “Understood,” the commander replied. “Just tell them to hurry the hell up.”

  “Jump complete,” Josen reported.

  “Well, I’ll be a…” Captain Donlevy declared, looking at the sensor display. “I’ve got a Takaran fighter at our ten, about twenty down, maneuvering slowly.” The captain keyed his comm-set. “Handel! Cortesh! Open her up, we’ve got company coming!”

  * * *

  Cameron turned off the vid-com, ending the recording. She then typed in an encryption code, and encrypted the message she had just recorded. After that, she typed in a message in the hint field of the decryption prompter. ‘What does your little sister call you?’

  Cameron
transferred the encrypted message to the outbound message queue, addressing it to Captain Robert Nash, Commanding Officer, ESS Tanna. She then set the message for secure deletion after it was sent.

  Cameron pressed the intercom button. “Comms, Captain.”

  “Comms, aye,” Ensign deBanco replied over the intercom.

  “Priority message in the outbound queue, bound for the ESS Tanna. She is currently patrolling near Chi Draconis.”

  “Return destination for the jump comm-drone?” the ensign asked.

  Cameron thought for a moment. “Haven system.”

  “Yes, sir.” After a few seconds, the ensign reported back. “Message is away, Captain.”

  “Thank you.” Cameron turned off her intercom and leaned back in her seat, satisfied that if things did not go well, at least someone would know the truth.

  * * *

  “How’s it going?” Jessica yelled up at them from the deck.

  Connor walked across the top of the Seiiki, headed aft toward Jessica’s voice. “We’re installing the port gun now,” Connor called down to her as he reached the aft edge of the ship. “The starboard gun is already done. You want to see?”

  “Sure.”

  Connor walked to his left, toward the starboard engine nacelle, climbing down the ladder rungs cut into the side of the inner edge of the nacelle itself. After dropping down the last meter, he headed back toward the cargo ramp to meet Jessica.

  “Looks like you’ve made that climb before,” she commented.

  “Once or twice, yeah,” Connor replied as he approached. “After you,” he said, gesturing for her to head up the cargo ramp.

  Jessica headed up the ramp, with Connor by her side. “I see you got the door guns installed,” she commented, noticing the same guns that were mounted inside the side doors of the combat jump shuttles.

  “Yeah, they even beefed up the power output a bit when they assembled them. I guess they had to tone them down inside the combat jumpers. Something about too much heat in a small compartment.” Connor noticed that she was no longer limping. “I see your leg is healing nicely.”

  “Yup. Still a little sore at the end of the day, but I’ve been working the hell out of it. Telles has the suit tech adjusting my suit to give me a little more assist on my bad leg, just in case.”

  Connor waited for Jessica to ascend the ladder at the front of the Seiiki’s cargo bay, to the landing one level above. After she passed through the forward hatch, he quickly climbed up after her, and followed her into the main passenger bay.

  “Wow, this is different,” Jessica commented, looking around. The passenger seats were gone, as were the big windows that had once been above them. Instead, there was only empty space. “What’s going to be in here?” she wondered.

  “Eventually, plasma generators and a couple of fusion reactors to power them. But there’s not enough time to install them now. Besides, we don’t really need them for this mission. The good stuff is up top,” Connor said, pointing to the next landing above them.

  Jessica headed up the newly installed access ladder leading to the center of the upper landing, then passed through the hatch into what had once been the upper passenger deck. The passenger seats had been removed from that compartment as well. On either side, there were new bulkheads that protruded nearly all the way to the center of the compartment, rising a little over a meter from the deck. Aft, and to either side, were two mark one plasma generators as well as two small fusion reactors to power them.

  Connor entered the narrow space behind her. “Go ahead,” he urged, pointing to the left. “The starboard turret is fully functional.”

  Jessica climbed up the short ladder and sat in the gunner’s chair. She strapped herself in, then activated the turret power, taking care not to arm the guns themselves. She twisted the control sticks on either side, tracking the guns back and forth, and up and down, taking note of the maximum fields of fire. “Not bad,” she admitted. “As long as they come at you from above.”

  “Yeah, well, for this mission, that’s probably where they’ll be,” Connor replied, “above us. Eventually they’re going to put automated turrets on our underside, on either side of the cargo bay. They’re also talking about putting another manned turret topside, between the cockpit and the forward lift fan, but that one will be smaller, like the ones in the top of your combat jumpers. We might even be able to squeeze another automated turret into the underside of our nose,” Connor added excitedly. “But they’re still working on the engineering for that one. They’ll have to reconfigure the sensor package to make room for it.”

  Jessica smiled as she climbed down from the gunner chair. “Well, you’re awfully happy about all this.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of surprised, myself,” Connor admitted. “At first, I was panicking at the thought of cutting holes in my ship, but then, I started thinking. Without the guns, we might not make it back in one piece. So…”

  “Yeah, well, once this baby is done, she’s going to pack a hell of a punch,” Jessica said.

  “I certainly hope so,” Connor agreed. “For all our sakes.”

  Jessica noted the slight concern in Connor’s last remark. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

  “Getting?” Connor laughed. “Trust me, I’ve had them since the moment I turned the ship around and headed back to Burgess.”

  Jessica looked at Connor.

  “What is it?” Connor wondered.

  Jessica sighed. “You are so much like him. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that you’re not him.”

  “Yeah,” Connor replied. “You know, with each passing day, I start to feel more like him. I don’t know if it was being under fire on Burgess, or the jump training, or putting in these guns… I mean, I still don’t have access to his memories, but I almost feel like I know what he felt.”

  “I’m not sure I follow,” Jessica admitted.

  “What it feels like to live your life for a purpose. One that isn’t centered around what you want, but what’s best for others. For people you don’t even know. For the last five years, I’ve been pretty much taking care of myself.”

  “You’ve been taking care of your ship, and your crew as well,” Jessica reminded him.

  “Not really,” Connor said. “I mean, yes, I have been, but it’s not the same. If I keep the ship flying and getting work, then I’m not only taking care of myself, but also my crew. It’s not really a selfless act.” Connor scratched his head. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that Marcus and Loki have been taking care of me.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably because five years ago I told them I’d kill them both if they let anything happen to you.”

  “That would explain a lot,” Connor admitted.

  * * *

  Cameron walked down the row of four Super Eagle jump fighters, her CAG, Commander Verbeek, behind her to the left, and her XO, Commander Kaplan, one step back on the right. On her right were the starboard launch tubes. Each of them had a fighter loaded and ready to deploy. All they needed were pilots. On her left were four more fighters, referred to as the ‘second-up ready-birds’. Once the ‘ready-birds’ in the tubes were away, the second-ups could be loaded and launched within minutes. The minimum time required by Fleet operational standards was three minutes. Commander Verbeek’s men had it down to two, a fact they had successfully demonstrated to her an hour earlier.

  As she walked the line, she noticed something unfamiliar on one of the Super Eagle’s nose gear. She stopped, moved closer, and squatted down to inspect the gear, in particular the two red bars that were stuck at angles through the deck grating, pinching in on either side of the nose gear. “What the hell are these?” she asked, standing again.

  “Holding pins, Sir!” the young deck tech standing nervously at attention next to his spacecraft replied.


  “These are standard issue, are they?” Cameron stated, suspicion in her tone.

  “No, sir!” the young man replied.

  Cameron looked at the other fighters, noting that every one of them had the same two red bars sticking out on either side of their nose gear. “Whose crazy idea was this?” she demanded.

  “Mine, sir!” the deck tech answered.

  “Explain yourself, Mister…”

  “Tosen, sir!” the young man replied. “They work better than the standard holding gear, Captain.”

  “I find that hard to believe, Mister Tosen,” Cameron challenged. “Suppose you tell me why these red bars work better than the gear the engineers designed to hold down these spacecraft.”

  “Beg your pardon, sir, but the gear provided is a pain in the ass…uh, sir. They may hold the ships down nice and snug, but they’re difficult to remove and weigh a ton.”

  “These don’t look like they could hold down squat, Mister Tosen,” Cameron remarked. “Are you telling me that these birds are gonna stay put if we’re under attack and maneuvering hard?”

  “I believe if we’re under attack, these birds are already going to be out killing Jung, Captain,” the young deck tech replied confidently. “And if not, we can turn up the gravity on this deck to keep the birds in place while you turn and burn, sir.”

  Cameron looked at Commander Verbeek.

  “Shaved at least thirty seconds off our load and launch time,” the commander told her.

  Cameron nodded, then looked at the nervous young deck technician. “Good thinking, Mister Tosen,” she told him, before moving on.

  Commander Verbeek smiled at Mister Tosen as an obvious wave of relief washed over the young man, then continued to follow the captain.