Ep.#9 - Resistance (The Frontiers Saga)

by Ryk Brown

  “It’s her job not to trust anyone,” Vladimir said.

  “That’s right,” Nathan agreed. “Face it, Cam. Trust does not come easily for you.”

  Cameron didn’t respond verbally. Instead she just made a face at Nathan as she took a bite of her salad.

  “Better to harbor unwarranted suspicions than to suffer the consequences of trust improperly placed,” Vladimir said. He took another bite of his food. “Old Russian proverb,” he added, raising his fork to emphasize the point.

  “Thank you,” Cameron said.

  “Did the jump shuttle make it back?” Nathan asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes, about an hour ago,” Cameron answered. “The pilot reported that there were no indications they were detected, and the Ghatazhak deployed exactly as planned.”

  Nathan looked at his watch. “So we’ve got another twenty-eight hours and change before we take the ship back into harm’s way again?”

  “About that, yes,” Cameron answered.

  “Well, I, for one, am happy to be facing battle with a ship that is in perfect condition for once.” Vladimir looked at Nathan. “Just try not to damage her too much this time.”

  “For once, I might be able to do so,” Nathan said. “From what Garrett said, there aren’t any planetary defenses on Tanna, just the fighter base on the fifth moon and the two bases on the surface. As long as no Jung warships drop in unexpectedly, we should be okay. I just wish we were going in with a little more propellant than we currently have.”

  “All we are doing is a small course correction and deceleration burn,” Vladimir pointed out. “Then we just hang out in orbit while everyone else takes the fight to the Jung.”

  “It really just hinges on whether or not the Ghatazhak are as good as everyone says they are,” Cameron said.

  “I know one thing,” Nathan said, “Jessica’s going to be sorry she missed this one.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said. There was a moment of silence as they each picked at their dinner. “Do you guys think about her?” Cameron added, breaking the silence.

  “I know I do,” Nathan said.

  “So do I,” Vladimir agreed solemnly. A small grin appeared on the corner of his mouth. “Although, perhaps not in the same way,” he added in a lecherous tone.

  “I knew it,” Cameron said.

  “What?” Vladimir responded.

  She rolled her eyes. “I knew that without Jessica here to balance things out, the hormone levels in this room would go all testosterone on me.”

  “Vladimir,” Nathan scolded in a mocking way, “you’re a command officer talking about another command officer.”

  “It was a joke,” Vladimir said, holding up his hands. “Besides, I am not a command officer. I am an engineer pretending to be a command officer, which is something I did not want to be.”

  Another moment of silence followed as they dined. Finally, Cameron spoke. “Do you think she’s okay?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Nathan said. “By now, she has probably completed her assignment and is working on her tan.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Cameron said.

  “Me, too,” Vladimir agreed, “about the tan part.”

  “Vlad?” Nathan mumbled.

  “What?” Vladimir objected, “I was just…”

  “Hey!” Cameron warned. “I’m the XO, remember? Don’t make me write you up.”

  * * *

  Jessica sat quietly, studying her data pad on the patio outside the cover house used by the resistance to hide the entrance to their underground facility.

  President Scott came out of the house. “Jessica, they said I’d find you out here.”

  Jessica started to rise. “Mister President,” she said as she set down her data pad. Despite the fact that the North American Union no longer existed, in the presence of its former elected leader, she always felt the need to be more formal.

  “Don’t get up,” he insisted, moving to take a seat next to her. “I take it you found a suitable hiding place for the comm-unit we provided?”

  Jessica pointed at a box sitting upside down on the ground next to the patio.

  “Not bad,” the president said. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet,” she answered, “but I’ve only been here for five days. The first scheduled contact isn’t until the seventh day.”

  “Then why are you out here?” President Scott asked.

  “I figured I’d give it a try in case they came back early. Besides, it’s not like I have anything else to do.” Jessica flipped up her collar against the evening chill. “I’m actually impressed that you guys even had a portable laser comm-unit. After all, it’s not exactly standard issue for ground warfare.”

  “The EDF was planning for this eventuality for some time,” President Scott said.

  “Buckeye?”

  “Precisely. After losing two Defender-class ships without so much as a single engagement, we knew we were trying to move too quickly. Admiral Galiardi had always said that no matter how many ships we built, they would be meaningless if the Jung came in force. A well dug in and pre-supplied underground resistance seemed the only viable option.”

  “If you didn’t think you could defend the Earth using ships, why did you think a resistance would do the trick?”

  “We expected it to take years, perhaps decades. I admit, the plan bet heavily on unforeseeable opportunities: a poorly guarded ordnance depot, the stealing of a ship or two, the local forces relaxing and letting their guard down.”

  “How are you going to get them to relax if you keep attacking them?”

  “The attacks are part of a much larger subterfuge—at least, that’s what they tell me,” the president said.

  “I certainly hope so, because running around blowing up guard posts and attacking comm stations isn’t going to do anything but piss them off.”

  “Like I said, the EDF had been working on this plan for many years, long before I became president and probably before you even enlisted. Admiral Galiardi started the project the moment he took command away from Admiral Williams.”

  “What ever happened to Admiral Galiardi?” Jessica wondered.

  “He went underground just before EDF command in Port-Gentil self-destructed,” the president explained. “That was part of the plan, for the admiral to survive and lead the resistance.”

  “And is he?”

  “He was,” the president said, “but we lost contact with him more than a week ago. He just went dark. None of the cells have reported any contact with him either. We assumed he had gone into hiding to avoid capture. That’s actually what I came to talk to you about.”

  “About what, the admiral?”

  “Yes.” President Scott sighed. “One of our deep-cover operatives reported seeing the admiral at a medical facility in Geneva. He was under heavy guard, and he looked to be in bad shape.”

  “Bad shape, how?”

  “Our operative is still trying to gain access to his medical records, but he suspects that his condition may be the result of interrogation by the Jung.”

  “How much can he give up?” Jessica asked.

  “More than you can imagine,” the president admitted, “the Aurora’s jump drive, the location of the Celestia, and the fact that she’s carrying the data cores. He may even know the location of many of our underground supply depots.”

  “How the hell was that allowed to happen?” Jessica wondered. “No one person should have that much intelligence floating around in their head. Rule number one: compartmentalize all intelligence.”

  “Galiardi was the architect of the Earth’s entire defensive strategy,” President Scott said. “He was the only one who knew the entire plan and one of only three people who knew about the jump drive project
.”

  “Who were the other two?”

  “Admiral Yamori and myself.”

  “The admiral in charge of special projects? That I can understand, but why you, sir? Weren’t you just a senator back then?”

  “I played a key part in the plan. I was to become president of the NAU, which would lead to me becoming the next leader of the United Earth Republic. They wanted the Jung to believe that the EDF lacked the public support they needed to build a strong defense.”

  “Why?”

  “We hoped that if the Jung felt our defensive position might soften, they would delay their invasion a few years in order to allow us to weaken while they moved more ships into position.”

  “But the jump drive…”

  “Was being developed in secret,” the president said. “Our hope was to complete the STS drive, or ‘jump’ drive as you call it, and get it installed in both the Aurora and the Celestia. We figured two such ships would give us an overwhelming advantage over nearly anything the Jung could send our way.”

  “Again, why you?”

  “Galiardi felt I was the most electable candidate at the time. Since the population was pretty evenly split over the issue, if I ran on a platform supporting peaceful negotiations with the Jung, it would appear more convincing, thus buying us the time we needed to develop the drive.”

  “Is that how Nathan ended up on the Aurora at the last minute? Did you have him transferred there?”

  “I had my son Eli contact someone at EDF command to request that Nathan be reassigned to a safer posting, but I never asked for him to be transferred to the Aurora.”

  “I didn’t even know Nathan had a brother,” Jessica admitted. “I thought he only had sisters.”

  “Eli is my oldest child. Nathan is my youngest. They are fifteen years apart in age, and they never really got along.”

  “Where is Eli now?” Jessica asked, realizing the president had referred to him in the present tense.

  The president hung his head for a moment, staring at the concrete floor. His eyes rose to meet Jessica’s. “The Jung have appointed him ‘Governor of Earth.’”

  “You’re kidding?” Jessica said.

  “I wish I were.”

  “You think he might have been…”

  “Working for the Jung all along?” the president finished for her. “As a father, I find it difficult to accept, but I have to admit, it would answer a lot of questions.”

  Jessica sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I always suspected that someone sold us out.” She shook her head in disgust. “This is going to mess with Nathan’s head, sir.”

  “More so than you might imagine. Eli always wanted to follow in my footsteps, to serve in public office. Trouble was, he didn’t have the personality that gets one elected. Nathan did. I believe this is the main reason they never got along.”

  “Does Eli even know about the jump drive project?”

  “I never told him about the STS project, but I suppose it is possible. Eli served as my personal assistant for more than a decade. When I was elected president, he became my chief of staff.”

  Jessica shook her head. “What about the rest of your family?”

  “My wife’s shuttle went down in the forests outside Winnipeg during the invasion. She did not survive. My daughters were all picked up by NAU security and taken to secure locations, but I have not heard from any of them since the invasion.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m sure they think I’m dead. An attempt was made on my life on the day of the invasion… by a member of my protective detail. We allowed reports of my death to be leaked to the Jung early on.”

  “Do you think the assassin was part of Buckeye?”

  “I don’t believe so,” the president said, pulling a small, flat container from his shirt pocket. “I was issued this suicide capsule years ago, as were Galiardi and Yamori.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure the admiral would have a backup plan in case you failed to use it.”

  “That occurred to me as well; however, my chief of security, who is spec-ops trained as well, felt that spec-ops would use a team, not a lone gunman, especially on a high-priority target.”

  “He’s right about that,” Jessica agreed. “So you think the shooter was a Jung plant?”

  “Most likely, yes.”

  Jessica looked at the president for a moment. “Pardon me, sir, but why are you telling me all this?”

  “I believe it is important that someone besides me understands the situation, the ‘big picture’ so to speak—someone on your side of the situation.”

  “Then you want me to share all of this with Nathan?”

  “Yes and no. I think it would be best if he did not know about Eli or that I am still alive.”

  “Why?”

  “Despite our differences, I know Nathan to be a fiercely loyal individual. I do not want him risking himself or what few resources he may have in an attempt to rescue me or any other member of our family.”

  “You’re right about Nathan. He is loyal, but he’s not stupid. He knows what’s at stake, and I’ve seen him make the hard call more than once since he assumed command.”

  The president smiled. “I am not surprised. Nevertheless, no purpose is served by giving him the extra emotional burden that information creates.”

  “So I get to be the one that doesn’t tell him? Thanks… sir.”

  “The day may come when someone needs to fill in the missing pieces,” the president explained. “I am trusting you to be that person.” The president sighed. “I’m afraid I have strayed from my original topic, which is that the Celestia is now at greater risk of discovery. We must somehow get word to the Aurora.”

  “My first contact window isn’t for another two days,” Jessica said. “Is there any way for us to get a message to the Celestia?”

  “No. She was ordered to go cold after touchdown. I was told that the only way to make contact with her was directly.”

  “Directly?”

  “Someone has to go to the Celestia to make contact. More importantly, someone needs to retrieve the data cores and get them to a more secure location.”

  “I think I know a safe place to store those cores,” Jessica answered, a mischievous look on her face.

  * * *

  Two alternating tones sounded in Lieutenant Telles’s helmet comms. His eyes snapped open in response and darted back and forth as he sized up his situation. He reached up to his visor and tapped the corner, activating the display system on the visor’s inner surface. The inside of his visor immediately became opaque, blocking out the external view completely. A moment later, it was replaced with images generated by the combat suit’s low-light imaging systems. He could now see the fifth moon in the distance ahead of them. He checked his approach data along the left side of the visor. His closure rate and approach angle were perfect. He had less than a minute to touchdown. He had no way of knowing the status of the rest of his team, as they were all operating under strict emission control protocols.

  The lieutenant fired tiny bursts of his cold-jet maneuvering system, pitching his body back ninety degrees so he would be approaching the surface of Tanna’s fifth moon feet first. He looked at his display again. He had thirty seconds to impact.

  The lieutenant began firing small bursts of his deceleration thrusters, gradually decreasing his closure rate on the tiny moon. His instinct was to burn the thruster at full power until his closure rate became almost nothing, but even cold jets could be detected at full power, especially at close range. He only needed to slow his closure rate enough so that his combat suit’s exoskeleton could withstand the force of impact without becoming incapacitated in the process.

  He continued firing tiny bursts, bringing his blinking red closure rate lower a
nd lower until, finally, the readout began to blink yellow. He now had fifteen seconds to touchdown. He fired three more short bursts, finally bringing his closure rate readout down enough that it turned an unblinking green.

  Five seconds were left until touchdown. The lieutenant bent his knees slightly and fired one last burst as the countdown passed two seconds. His feet touched the surface, and his remaining forward momentum caused him to take several steps forward before he managed to come to a complete stop. Now on the surface, his suit began to automatically fire even more minuscule bursts of cold propellant in order to hold him against the surface of the tiny moon that had almost no gravity of its own. Without the jets, a single jump would propel him to the moon’s escape velocity, sending him floating off into space.

  He tapped his visor once more, deactivating the suit’s optical low-light imaging systems. There was enough light on the surface for him to see clearly. He turned three hundred and sixty degrees, counting his men around him. All ten of them had arrived safely.

  A wave of pride and relief swept over him as he raised his arm over his head and placed his palm on top of his helmet. Again, he rotated around, checking that each man returned his ‘okay’ signal in the same fashion. Satisfied that his team was ready for action, he motioned for them to proceed forward and began a careful approach along the surface of the tiny moon toward the launch tube openings from the fighter base within the moon.

  * * *

  “Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported from the Aurora’s navigation console.

  “Position confirmed,” Mister Navashee added. “We are in orbit over Tanna. Daylight terminator in seventeen minutes, twenty-eight seconds.”

  “Deploy jumpers,” Nathan ordered.

  Ten Ghatazhak warriors, dressed in combat pressure suits and specialized space-jump gear, jumped in pairs out of the Aurora’s starboard cargo airlock and began drifting toward the planet below. They drifted for nearly a minute before using their maneuvering jets to adjust their attitude in relation to the planet below. Finally, they fired the deceleration thrusters mounted on their lower backs. After a minute-long burn, they once again rotated and pitched over so they were diving headfirst toward the dark planet. Only moments later, the tops of their heads began to heat up as they entered the steadily thickening atmosphere of Tanna.