Ep.#6 - Head of the Dragon (The Frontiers Saga)

by Brown, Ryk

  As he watched, the Aurora’s two torpedoes streaked into view and intercepted the cruiser. Two bright flashes of light obscured the entire cruiser from view for several moments as the torpedoes’ nuclear warheads detonated. When the flashes cleared moments later, the ship was at a slightly different angle and had taken on an odd color in her midship.

  “Increase magnification,” Nathan ordered. The image reformed with an even closer picture. There was a massive section missing from the middle of the cruiser, as if half of her hull had been blown away. He could see the open decks inside the ship, and he could see debris and even bodies drifting out of the exposed sections. It looked like someone had taken a large bite out the Tattarak’s side and now her contents were floating out into space. The image had everyone transfixed for several seconds.

  “Captain,” Naralena called, breaking the silence, “the Tattarak is hailing us.”

  Nathan turned and looked at her, still holding his sore shoulder. “What do they want?”

  “They’re surrendering, sir. They’re asking for aid.”

  “Are they kidding?” Mister Randeen spurted.

  Nathan shot a disapproving glance at his tactical officer. “Tell them to recall the Ghatazhak.”

  “Captain…” Mister Randeen began to object.

  “I’m not going to warn you again, Mister Randeen,” Nathan scolded sharply.

  “Captain, the Tattarak’s captain may be trying to deceive us,” Mister Willard warned.

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Nathan assured him, remembering that, on more than one occasion, both Tug and Mister Dumar had expressed their distrust of Takaran nobility. “I’ve had my fill of Takaran boarding parties; trust me.”

  “The Tattarak claims they do not have the authority to recall the Ghatazhak,” Naralena reported.

  “Tell them that we cannot offer aid at this time, but we will discontinue our attack on the condition that they abandon ship.” Nathan turned to Mister Willard. “They do have escape pods, right?”

  “Yes, sir, they do,” Mister Willard assured him.

  Captain Waddell listened to the comm-traffic as the Aurora’s fighters pursued the Ghatazhak landing crafts that descended from the skies over Answari. With the tactical display set to monitor the aerial battle, he watched as the Corinari pilots descended from orbit at maximum speeds in order to reach their targets and engage them before the enemy could land and begin their ground attack. One by one, red triangular icons blinked out as Corinari fighters destroyed them. However, the Takaran escorts were doing their best to protect the Ghatazhak landing craft, and blue triangles were disappearing from the holographic display nearly as rapidly.

  “They’re not going to get them all, are they?” Sergeant Davidge said.

  “No, they’re not,” Captain Waddell agreed. He let out a sigh. “Pass the word along the perimeter. We’re about to be hit hard.”

  The Ghatazhak landers were not multi-role spacecraft. They were designed for one purpose: to put the highly trained, highly motivated, highly loyal imperial warriors on the surface with accuracy and speed. Resembling an I-beam, their fuselage was an open concept that allowed twenty Ghatazhak, all clad in pressurized combat armor, to stand along either side of the long ships with their weapons pointed outward in order to fire at will on approach. The Ghatazhak shock troops took great advantage of that ability, blasting away even the most remote threats that they spotted on descent. Twenty high-powered energy rifles rained down their fire from either side of the first lander as its four engine pods swung downward to stop their descent and settle in on their landing site. As their skids touched the ground, the restraints that connected the back of each shock troop to the body of the craft released, and the troops stepped forward on the narrow platform that ran beneath them, dropping the half meter to the ground at a run.

  The physical augmentation systems of the Ghatazhak combat suits gave them both speed and strength in addition to armor. It gave them an almost God-like ability to destroy their opponents on the battlefield, a fact that they enjoyed immensely. The Ghatazhak had no fear of death. They only feared death without honor. The only way for a Ghatazhak to die was in the service of his emperor and the destruction of the empire’s enemies.

  A total of five landers delivered their loads of warriors, and within a minute, the Ghatazhak shock troops were advancing through the security perimeter of the Corinari staging area behind a wall of energy weapons fire. As they advanced, they left a wake of death and destruction behind them. As soon as they were safely inside the perimeter, they began breaking up into fire teams of four or five, spreading out to increase their rate of destruction. There were over four hundred heavily armed men within the staging area, and in less than five minutes, the Ghatazhak had reduced that number by half.

  The group of seven Karuzari agents dressed as palace security made their way in a proper column to the entrance of the underground command center. Jessica, dressed in her servant girl outfit, stood in the middle of the group, holding her tray of medicinals like a proper palace servant. As they came to a stop, one of the guards at the door spoke to the lead man in their column. He was speaking in Takaran, as was the Karuzari agent that answered him. It quickly became apparent that the guard did not believe that any of them belonged there, as the first two men in line immediately attacked the guards at the door, taking them both by surprise and killing them instantly.

  Jessica screamed, playing her part and dropping her tray of medicinals as four more palace guards rushed past her to engage the rest of the Karuzari agents posing as palace security personnel. As a guard passed her, she stuck out her foot and tripped him, sending him diving face first into the man in front of him. The foremost man’s boot kicked the falling palace guard’s face, causing him to bite through his lip.

  Seeing that the servant was somehow part of the attempt to attack the command center, one of the charging guards came at Jessica. She ducked, dropping to her bare knees as the man charged and driving her right fist into his gut as he lunged. The man doubled over, and she drove her knee into his face, removing his weapon from his holster as he fell to the floor, blood pouring from his nose.

  Jessica pointed her confiscated weapon and fired it into the back of the head of the palace guard attempting to subdue one of her cohorts with a choke hold, sending his limp body to the ground as well. As she approached the main entrance to the command center, the other members of her group managed to dispose of their opponents and joined her. A moment later, they burst through the door into the command center itself, weapons firing. Jessica dove to her right, finding a console to use as cover as energy weapons fire ricocheted about the room. She continued to move, popping up from behind the long console every so often to deliver a deadly shot of energy to another member of the palace staff, be they security or technical. As she moved to the right side of the room, she could see Caius dressed in flowing red robes, as he was led out the back exit by two of his personal security forces.

  The exchange of fire lasted several more seconds until, finally, the last armed member of the palace staff fell. The remaining technicians simply raised their hands in surrender to the three surviving attackers.

  “Secure these people and hold this room!” she ordered as she headed for the back of the room.

  “Where are you going?” one of two surviving Karuzari agents asked in Angla.

  “After Caius!” she answered as she exited out the back.

  “Captain, the Falcon has just jumped in,” Mister Navashee reported.

  “Aurora, Falcon,” Loki’s voice called over the comms.

  “Falcon, go for Aurora,” Nathan answered.

  “Sir, the Avendahl has powered up and is about to leave the shipyards!” Loki reported.

  “New jump,” Nathan ordered. “Take us to the shipyards, Mister Chiles.”

  “Yes, sir, plotting now.”

  Nathan tapped his comm-set to make a call. “CAG, Captain.”

  “Captain, go for CAG,” Ma
jor Prechitt answered.

  “We have to go. Do you have any more birds on deck?”

  “Ten, sir, including mine.”

  “Then get them launched,” Nathan ordered. “All of them. Get down to the surface and engage whatever you can. Once you expend your fuel and ordnance, ditch your ships and find a hole to hide in. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Major Prechitt answered. “May I ask where you’re going?”

  “To face the Avendahl, Major,” Nathan told him, “and I think it best that you and your ships remain here.”

  “Understood, sir. Good hunting.”

  “Get out! Get out! Get out!” Captain Waddell yelled as he grabbed one of his communications technicians and shoved him toward the exit. Heavy energy weapons fire from advancing Ghatazhak shock troops zeroed in on the maintenance building they had been using as a command center, and it was starting to pour in, blasting gaping holes in the walls as they ran out of the building.

  The building exploded as the Captain ran from it, sending him falling forward. He scrambled to his feet again, his rifle in his right hand, his left hand grabbing for Sergeant Davidge and lifting him back to his feet as well. “Over there!” he bellowed, pointing in the direction of the heavy cargo shuttles.

  Captain Waddell took off across the compound followed by Sergeant Davidge and the two surviving technicians from the command shack that had just been blown apart by Ghatazhak rocket fire. Bolts of energy flew at them from all sides, striking the grassy field and the dead bodies of his men that littered the staging area. Corinari fighters streaked overhead, engaging the Ghatazhak escorts to prevent them from providing close-air support to their brethren.

  An agonizing scream caused Captain Waddell to look back as one of his technicians fell to energy weapons fire. In front of him, he saw his men taking cover behind the bodies of their fallen comrades. They returned fire in a desperate attempt to stop the Ghatazhak advance.

  “Keep moving, Sergeant!” the captain ordered as they ran. “Everyone, fall back to the cargo shuttles!” he yelled at his men as he passed. He keyed up his comm-set to call every last man in the staging area. “Fall back to the cargo shuttles! Everyone get inside the shuttles!”

  Sergeant Davidge reached the first cargo shuttle, bounding up the ramp with Captain Waddell right behind him. He waved for the rest of the men still fighting to join them inside the shuttles. Captain Waddell keyed his comm-set again. “Attention, all Corinari ships in the airspace around the staging area! This is Captain Waddell, commander of the Corinari ground forces, requesting that you drop all ordnance on the staging area! Repeat! Drop all ordnance inside the perimeter! Try to keep the big stuff away from the cargo shuttles if you can! Strike in two minutes! Repeat! Strike in two minutes! Danger close!”

  Major Prechitt dove through the Takaran atmosphere at ten times the speed of sound as he led the last ten fighters from the Aurora down to Answari to help out in whatever way possible. The sound of Captain Waddell’s command sent a cold wave over him. The man was asking them to dump their weapons directly on his position. He knew that even one piece of stray ordnance could destroy any of those heavy cargo shuttles with ease.

  He looked at his display, counting his fighters in the area. There were six left over the skies of Answari, along with his ten that were diving down on the city and would be there in just over two minutes.

  “Talon flight, Talon one. This is the CAG. We’ll make two passes. First, missiles to the outer areas. Then we put our cannons on the center around the shuttles. Try not to hit them if possible, but I want every Ghatazhak blown to hell, no exceptions.” Major Prechitt adjusted his frequency and made another call. “Waddell, Prechitt.”

  “Prechitt, go for Waddell,” the captain’s voice answered.

  “Captain, we copy your request. We’ll be down to the deck and firing on your position in two minutes. Get everyone inside and button up the doors. We’ll do our best not to hit you directly.”

  “Just kill the fuckers!” Captain Waddell answered. “All of them!”

  “Copy that,” the major answered. After a pause, he added, “Corinari.”

  Captain Waddell’s voice came back, “Hup, hup, hup,” although it lacked the usual enthusiasm.

  Captain Waddell leaned out the rear loading hatch of one of the heavy cargo shuttles, yelling for the last of his surviving troops to get inside the shuttles. On the horizon, he could see the Corinari fighters dropping in to being their attack run. “Close them up!” he ordered. Before the words finished leaving his mouth, the ramps on all four shuttles began to rise. He watched with some amount of satisfaction as the Ghatazhak, now realizing what was about to happen, began to spin around and fire on the incoming fighters. If he was going to die, at least these shock troops would die with him. Just before the hatch finished closing, he could see the puff of the missiles as they launched from the incoming fighters. As the hatch slammed shut, the shuttle began to shake with increasing violence as the missiles struck the ground and the repeated explosions walked toward them. The explosions became louder and the shaking more violent, forcing him to cover his ears. Just as he was sure his head was about to explode, everything went black.

  * * *

  “Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported from the navigator’s chair.

  “Scanning for the Avendahl,” Mister Navashee announced.

  “Load all torpedo tubes with fixed yield nukes, Mister Randeen,” Nathan ordered.

  “Aye, sir. Loading all tubes with fixed yields,” the tactical officer answered.

  “I’ve got her, Captain,” the sensor operator reported. “Three light minutes from our current position. She’s about five hundred thousand kilometers away from the shipyards on course for Takara. ETA is one hour at current speed, but she is accelerating smoothly, sir.”

  “Assuming a constant rate of acceleration, as well as enough time at max deceleration in order to fall into orbit, what’s your best guess?” Nathan asked his sensor operator.

  “One moment, sir.”

  Nathan looked puzzled.

  “Captain?” Mister Willard inquired, noticing the captain’s puzzled look.

  “The Tattarak went to FTL to get across the system in minutes,” Nathan observed. “Why doesn’t the Avendahl do the same?”

  “The Tattarak was at least twice as far away,” Mister Randeen speculated. “Perhaps she didn’t feel it necessary given her proximity.”

  “With your homeworld under attack?” Nathan commented.

  “Best guess is thirty-two minutes, sir,” Mister Navashee reported.

  “See, that’s just too long,” Nathan insisted. “She should have gone to FTL.”

  “Maybe she cannot,” Mister Willard suggested. “She wasn’t due to leave the shipyards for at least another week, after all. Perhaps her FTL is still offline?”

  “Mister Navashee, what type of power signatures are you detecting?” Nathan asked as he paced to his left toward the sensor station. “Is she running her anti-matter reactors, or is she using the zero-point energy device?”

  “Checking now,” Mister Navashee answered as he studied his displays.

  “All torpedoes loaded, Captain,” Mister Randeen reported.

  “Jump plotted, sir,” Mister Riley announced. “I can put us one kilometer out if you like.”

  “Her anti-matter reactors are online, sir,” Mister Navashee reported, “but she’s running her ZPED as well; at least I think so. I’ve never seen readings like this. And her anti-matter reactors are at minimal output levels.”

  “Like she’s got them lit just in case,” Nathan muttered. “Yeah, she’s running on her ZPED.” Nathan took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. He had hoped that the Avendahl would not be operational, and that if victorious, they would be able to study her or possibly even borrow her ZPED technology in order to get them back to Earth more quickly. However, if that was not to be the case, he knew he had but one acceptable course of action.

  “Gentlemen,” Na
than began, “the Avendahl is by far the most powerful ship in the empire. If she is allowed to reach Takara, not only will this mission fail, but the entire Darvano system, and possibly the Savoy system, will suffer greatly for our failure. She is far more powerful than us, and she knows that we’re coming, so she’ll be ready. What she doesn’t have is the jump drive. That is our advantage. We will strike fast and hard, then jump away quickly. We’ll repeat this process until we either wear her shields down or find a weakness in her defenses that we can exploit.”

  Nathan stood in the middle of the bridge and looked at the faces of his bridge crew. There was doubt, and there was fear, but there was also confidence. Until little more than a month ago, he hadn’t known any of them. Six months ago, he hadn’t known any of them existed, especially this far out in space. Yet here they all were, brave men about to hurl themselves into battle with the odds against them. These were the types of moments Nathan had studied in history. These were the type of men who had made those moments. Although he did not feel worthy of the moment, he certainly felt honored.

  “Stand by to jump, Mister Riley,” Nathan stated calmly.

  “Standing by.”

  “Mister Chiles, as soon as we jump in, line us up for a forward shot. Once those shots are off, translate up so that our belly is toward her guns.”

  “We know the maneuvers, Captain,” Mister Chiles assured him.

  “Of course.” Nathan turned to Mister Randeen. “You fire as soon as he gets the tubes lined up. All four forward tubes.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Mister Randeen replied.

  “Mister Riley, jump us in,” Nathan ordered as he took his seat.

  “Jumping.”