Frontiers 05 Rise of the Corinari

by Ryk Brown

  “Promise me that we’ll get this over with quickly. We can’t afford to be sucked into a long, drawn-out campaign here. The Earth needs us. Our people need us back there defending them, not out here playing cat and mouse with some other evil empire. Yes, it would be great if we picked up some advanced tech along the way, but they need our jump drive more than any cool tech the Ta’Akar might have.”

  “I understand all of that, Cam. Really I do,” Nathan assured her.

  “Promise me, no long campaigns,” she declared, staring him in the eyes. “We get in, get it done, and get out.”

  “I promise,” Nathan told her. “We jump in, slap a few people around, and jump out again.” Nathan flashed his get-out-of-trouble smile again. Try as she might to resist, his stupid grin made her smile as well.

  “Who are you planning to slap?” Tug asked as he and Jalea joined them.

  “Caius,” Nathan joked.

  “That would be worth seeing,” Tug mused as he took a seat. He looked over at Cameron, who appeared a bit pale. “Are you feeling all right, Commander?”

  “Just a little tired, I guess,” she admitted. “It has been a long day.”

  “Would you like me to send for the chief to see you back?”

  “No, he’s already on his way home. I’ll have Sergeant Weatherly arrange an escort.”

  “Nonsense,” Tug insisted, rising from his seat. “I’ll see you back myself.”

  “What about Jalea?” Cameron asked.

  “I’m quite capable of finding my own way back,” Jalea calmly stated.

  “I will meet you at the shuttle later,” Tug told Jalea as he offered his arm to Cameron, helping her up from her seat.

  “Sergeant,” Nathan called as he rose. Sergeant Weatherly nodded to his captain from his post nearby, signaling to one of his Corinari subordinates to arrange transportation for Tug and Commander Taylor.

  “Get some rest, Cam,” Nathan urged.

  “Commander,” Jalea bid in parting as Tug led Cameron away, two of the captain’s security detail in tow.

  “Captain Scott,” Mister Briden called out as he approached, along with the Prime Minister of Corinair, “the Prime Minister was most impressed with your mission report.”

  “Thank the Prime Minister, Mister Briden,” Nathan accepted graciously, “but it is not I that he should be impressed with, but rather with Mister Tugwell of the Karuzari. Were it not for his bravery and piloting skills, the mission might have had an entirely different outcome.”

  “Perhaps,” Mister Briden agreed. “However, as the burden of responsibility rests upon the leader’s shoulders, so do the fortunes of success.”

  “Yes, but I believe in giving credit where credit is due,” Nathan countered.

  “Yes, of course, Captain. I did not mean to belittle Mister Tugwell’s contribution. It was indeed most spectacular. The Karuzari are nothing if not brave. However, the people came tonight to witness Na-Tan signing the treaty, not the Karuzari.”

  “Some might feel otherwise,” Jalea protested politely, “and their numbers might be more than you realize.”

  “Perhaps,” Mister Briden proclaimed, wishing to avoid any confrontation. “I was merely pointing out that there is great political advantage in associating with a legend.”

  “Are you speaking for yourself, or for the Prime Minister, Mister Briden?” Nathan asked.

  “I assure you, Captain, I am speaking for the Prime Minister. As you pointed out in an earlier meeting, it is not my place to comment otherwise.”

  There was a sinister smile behind Mister Briden’s politically correct expression that made the hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck stand up.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Captain, Miss Torren, the Prime Minister has other guests to visit before the night is over.”

  “Of course,” Nathan nodded to the Prime Minister, purposefully forgetting to bid Mister Briden a polite farewell.

  Nathan waited long enough for the Prime Minister and Mister Briden to get out of earshot before speaking. “He doesn’t like the Karuzari much, does he?” he said, stating the obvious.

  “The feeling is mutual, I assure you,” Jalea answered as she took two drinks from a nearby tray and handed one to Nathan. “So, Captain,” she continued as she turned and started making her way across the crowded lobby floor, “how does it feel to be a legend?”

  “I am no legend,” Nathan protested. “You know that as much as anyone.”

  “But you do use the leverage provided by your notoriety to your advantage, do you not?”

  “Not by design.”

  “I see. You find the idea so distasteful?”

  “Yes, very much so,” Nathan insisted.

  “More distasteful than not accomplishing your goals?” she challenged.

  “My goals?” Nathan wondered.

  “Of returning to Earth and defending your world against its own enemies,” Jalea reminded.

  Nathan finished his drink, using the distraction as a means to avoid answering Jalea’s question. The drink was fruity and sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. It reminded him of the strawberry flavored spirits his sister Miri always served at dinner parties. He wondered if it had the same effects as he followed Jalea through the crowd.

  “As distasteful as I find the whole Na-Tan hype, I do recognize its usefulness to our cause,” Nathan admitted. “To deny its value would be irresponsible on my part.”

  “Spoken like a true leader.” Jalea smiled as she reached the exit, stopping to look around the room. The crowd had thinned out somewhat and the evening’s events appeared to be winding down. Aitkenna as well as many other cities across Corinair were still in a state of chaos and disrepair, and most of the dignitaries in attendance had already departed to return to their endless responsibilities. “I believe we should be heading back to the spaceport, Captain. There is much to do back on Karuzara.”

  “Yes, of course,” Nathan agreed, signaling the sergeant.

  * * *

  Tug had never spent much time with Cameron in the past, and he had never known her to be terribly talkative. However, she had said little during the ride back to the hospital thus far, which seemed odd even for her. He knew she was tired, as she was still expected to be in recovery and rehabilitation for several weeks, but there was more to it than just physical exhaustion, there was something bothering her.

  “You are worried about him,” Tug said, taking a shot in the dark.

  “I’m worried about a lot of things,” Cameron defended.

  “As are we all,” Tug agreed. “But you are mostly concerned with your captain.”

  “Well shouldn’t I be? You saw him.”

  “To what do you refer?” Tug asked.

  “His attitude… the whole ‘gonna jump in and slap Caius around’ bit.”

  “I do believe he was speaking in jest, Commander.”

  “Who jokes about slapping about the leader of an interstellar empire?” Cameron insisted.

  “It is his way,” Tug assured her. “He tends to diffuse stressful situations with humor or sarcasm.”

  “It was a reception,” Cameron insisted. “How stressful could it be?”

  “He has just promised to commit his ship and his crew to a battle that he may not survive. He also promised to commit his world to join forces with others in common defense. Even if he survives the events in this part of the galaxy, something worse may await him when you return to Earth.” Tug laughed in exasperation. “Trust me, Commander; it is an extremely stressful time for Captain Scott.”

  Cameron turned to stare out the window again, watching the remains of the city pass by as they made their way down the main transportation corridor. “Captain Scott,” she mumbled. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”

  “Why is that?” Tug wondered aloud.

  “If you had read his background files, you’d understand,” she assured him.

  “I am sure that was all in the past.”

  “It wasn’t tha
t far in the past.”

  “Tell me, Commander; do you believe that who we are is set at birth? Or do you believe that we are all the result of that which we experience along the way?”

  “A little of both, I guess,” she answered. “Well, maybe a little of the first and a lot of the second.”

  “Have the events of the last month changed you in any way?”

  “Yes, of course,” she admitted.

  “Then is it not possible that they have changed your friend as well?”

  “My friend?” Cameron questioned. “I’m not sure you could call us friends.”

  “I saw him toss all logic and reason aside to procure medical care for you,” Tug told her. “And I watched him stay by your side every possible moment. Those are not the acts of mere coworkers.”

  Cameron was quiet for several minutes.

  “What is it about him that worries you the most?” Tug asked, finally breaking the silence.

  “I worry that he is so arrogant, so headstrong, that he will do something stupid that will get us all killed and leave the Earth to the mercy of the Jung.”

  “Do you think Nathan a bad person?”

  “No, I just think he’s irresponsible,” she stated.

  “The man I have come to know takes his responsibilities quite seriously,” Tug argued, “perhaps even too much so.” After another pause, Tug continued. “May I offer my perspective on the matter?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Cameron retorted.

  “Not really, no,” Tug laughed. “Nathan’s biggest problem is that he does not yet believe in himself, in his own ability to lead and to make the right decisions.”

  “Finally, we agree on something.”

  “Part of the reason for this,” Tug said, “is that he does not yet feel that those he commands believe in him.”

  Cameron looked at Tug. “What you’re really saying is that I don’t believe in him.”

  “You are the only other person on the ship who could have taken on the role of captain, had it not fallen onto Nathan’s shoulders, are you not?”

  “Yes…”

  “Then it is understandable that he might need your support, your belief that he can do the job, and that he is worthy of being followed.”

  The transport vehicle came to a stop outside the side entrance to the hospital in which Cameron had been recuperating for the last few weeks. Several Corinari guards and a few medical personnel came out to meet her, having been notified by comms of her arrival.

  “Do me a favor, Tug,” Cameron asked. “Keep an eye on him until I get back. Worthy or not, he still needs someone to keep him in line.”

  “I will do my best until your return,” Tug assured her with a grin.

  * * *

  Nathan walked down the main corridor of the command deck on his way to the bridge. After changing back into a normal uniform, he felt much more himself. The ceremony for the signing of the Alliance treaty had felt much like one of his father’s political circus events back on Earth. He had grown to despise such events to such a degree that he had joined the fleet to get away from them. Yet here he was, more deeply embroiled in politics than ever before, committing his world to an interstellar alliance that might or might not save his world. It had not been what he had set out to do. All he had wanted was to get his ship and his crew back to Earth and turnover command of the Aurora to someone more qualified.

  He wondered what would have happened had he followed Cameron’s advice from the start and headed home immediately, slowly making their way back to Earth in a long series of jumps, ten light years at a time. Would he be halfway home by now? Who knew what dangers lay between the Pentaurus Cluster and the Sol system? It seemed entirely possible that they could have found themselves in an even worse position than they already were had they simply run home at their earliest opportunity.

  Nathan knew that he had done the right thing by choosing to defend the Corinairans from the Ta’Akar. Whether or not it was for the right reasons was unimportant at this point. If he had allowed the bombardment to continue, the captain of the Yamaro might have destroyed the entire planet. Had he knowingly allowed the innocent people of Corinair to perish in such fashion, he would not have been worthy of his position.

  Still, he couldn’t help but review the events of the last few weeks in his mind, over and over again, wondering how a different decision at each step in their journey might have led to a different outcome.

  One of the four surviving marines left on the Aurora’s crew stood guard at the main entrance to the bridge. As the most critical compartment on the ship, Jessica had insisted that the marines be solely responsible for its security. The Corinari could guard the rest of the ship. Nathan knew that while she did not actually expect any subterfuge from the Corinari, she also realized that they still knew too little about the politics and ways of their new allies to trust them completely. They had no choice but to accept their help, but there was no reason not to keep a watchful eye on them, at least until their loyalty had been proven beyond doubt.

  The marine guard snapped to attention, raising his right hand in salute as the captain approached. “Sir.”

  Nathan returned the salute in a more casual fashion than it had been given. “Corporal,” he greeted as he stepped through the hatchway. He stopped as he entered the bridge, surprised to find it both empty and dimly lit. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was only twenty-one hundred hours. “Where is everyone?” he asked the corporal at the entrance.

  “In their racks, I expect, sir,” the corporal surmised.

  Nathan looked back at his watch, realizing it was still set to the local time for the city of Aitkenna back on Corinair. As preoccupied as he had been during their journey from Corinair to Karuzara, he had completely forgotten about the time difference. He expected they were going to have to come up with a way of dealing with such time issues in the future. Perhaps some sort of an ‘Alliance Mean Time’ would do the trick.

  Nathan changed his watch back to shipboard time and saw that it was four in the morning. “Ah, yes,” he said to himself. That would explain the darkened, empty bridge. As shorthanded as they were, while safely docked within the Karuzara spaceport deep inside the asteroid, he had agreed to have only a duty officer and one guard on duty at night in order to allow their overworked crew some decent sleep for a change. They would be back to a normal routine soon enough.

  “Where’s the duty officer then?” Nathan asked the corporal, knowing that Jessica had been left in command during his absence. “No, wait; let me guess,” he added, pointing toward his ready room at the back of the bridge. The corporal nodded.

  Nathan entered his ready room and found Jessica right where he expected, sprawled out on the couch. She looked so peaceful that he hated to wake her, but he couldn’t resist. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “General quarters! General quarters! All hands, man your battle stations!”

  Not taking the bait, Jessica opened one eye and peered at Nathan. “Nice try,” she muttered.

  “That’s, ‘Nice try, sir,’” he reminded as he took a seat behind his desk and turned on his display.

  Jessica sat up. “Well at least you changed,” she commented as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “That goofy dress-uniform you guys concocted made you look like a doorman at one of those overpriced European hotels.”

  “Please, don’t remind me.”

  “I see you’ve got your sidearm back on,” she commented, noticing his gun belt. “Good boy.”

  “They wouldn’t let me wear it at the ceremony,” Nathan explained. “I felt really uncomfortable without it.”

  “Yeah, the psych boys back home called it ‘Persistent Readiness Syndrome’,” she explained. “We’re all going to have it for some time.” Jessica laughed. “I can’t imagine how the sergeant reacted when they tried to take his weapon away.”

  “He just looked at them and they backed down,” Nathan said, chuckling at the memory.

  “I’l
l bet,” she said as she stretched. “So how was the party?”

  “Pointless and boring,” Nathan declared as he scrolled through reports.

  “Worse than the last one?”

  Nathan paused for a moment, trying to remember the last party he had attended. Then he remembered the party at his parents’ estate the night before he had left Earth for his first assignment. He remembered getting fairly smashed, and he remembered that his father had announced his candidacy for the office of the North American Presidency. Mostly, however, he remembered his brief sexual encounter with a hot little brunette he had only just met. He had no way of knowing at the time that she was in the fleet, let alone that she would end up as his chief of security.

  “No, this party was worse,” he assured her, adding, “no hot, easy chicks in tight skimpy dresses at this one.” Nathan flashed his usual charming smile, the same one that always got him out of trouble with his mother as a teenager.

  Jessica smiled back as she stood and headed toward the exit, “Bite me, sir.”

  “Goodnight, Jess,” Nathan said as she stepped through the hatch.

  “Goodnight, Skipper,” she answered from the empty bridge, knowing that he hated the term.

  Nathan tapped away at his keyboard for several minutes as he summarized the evening’s events for his log. He noticed he had become more careful with his wording in recent weeks. He knew his logs would be carefully examined and picked apart by all manner of experts, both fleet and civilian. Perhaps, someday, even historians would peruse his account of the events in the Pentaurus cluster, passing judgment on his decisions based on the words he left behind.

  Chapter Five

  “We are up to eight work teams,” Vladimir boasted as he placed his breakfast on the table across from Nathan and sat down to eat. Although still only at a fraction of its capacity, the mess hall seemed so much more alive now that there were at least one hundred Corinairan troops and technicians on board the Aurora.

  “Half of them are working on repairs; the other half are concentrating on installing some of the original systems that were scheduled to be installed after our little ‘test flight’.”