Ep.#2 - Rescue (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)
Page 20
“We’ll take our chances,” Jessica said. “So, how do we get it inside?”
General Bacca took in a deep breath and sighed, as he stared at the device, pondering. “How does the device operate?” he asked.
“A cloth cap fitted with thousands of sensors is placed onto the head of the subject, connecting him to the device.” Commander Telles explained.
“And how long does the process take?”
“Minutes,” the commander replied.
“And how long is the device capable of storing the captain’s consciousness?” the general wondered.
“That information is not pertinent to the task at hand,” the commander replied sternly.
The general sighed again. “Your captain was given the same nanites that our ground troops are given prior to invasion of a new world. They are designed to protect the host from unknown pathogens, as well as from traumatic shock due to battlefield injuries.”
“That explains why some of them have been so difficult to kill,” Jessica quipped.
“Why were they given to him?” Commander Telles wondered.
“To prevent him from dying, of course,” General Bacca replied. “Jung interrogation tactics can be quite harsh, at times.”
“Surely they were deactivated long ago?” the commander said.
“Yes, but the officer in charge of the detention facility would not likely know this.”
“A bold gamble,” the commander stated.
“Bold gambles make generals,” the general replied dismissively.
“Shall we begin?” the general suggested, pointing toward the patio door. “Unless one of you has a better idea that you would like to share.”
Commander Telles looked at Jessica. “It is as good a plan as we could hope for.”
“Not as satisfying as blasting our way in and out, but probably more survivable,” Jessica agreed. She looked at the general. “Be warned, Bacca. One false move, and we immediately go to plan B.”
“Which is?”
“Shoot our way out,” Jessica replied. “Starting with you.”
Commander Telles turned and headed toward the patio doors.
“After you, my dear,” the general offered cordially.
“Not a chance in hell,” Jessica replied in Jung, pushing the general forward so she could keep an eye on him.
“Very good,” the general replied, also in Jung. “Although your accent has a slight hint of the eastern Jorsay province.”
Jessica and General Bacca followed Commander Telles out the doors and across the dimly lit patio, moving quickly up the shuttle’s boarding steps. The commander went forward, and the general turned to follow.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jessica demanded, putting her hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“The shuttle’s controls will not recognize the commander as having authorization to operate this ship,” the general explained. “I will need to grant such permissions. To do so, I must be in the cockpit.”
Jessica removed her hand from the general’s shoulder. “Make it quick.”
The general moved forward, standing next to the commander, who had already taken the pilot’s seat. He leaned forward and touched several keys on the console. “Remain still while the system scans you,” he instructed the commander.
Commander Telles sat still while a scanning beam darted over him.
The console beeped and flashed a message in Jung on the screen. Authorized: Duntan, Raley.
“You are now authorized to operate this shuttle,” the general announced. “You do know how to pilot such a craft?”
“I believe I can figure it out,” the commander replied, as he began to familiarize himself with the shuttle’s controls.
“And you, my dear?” the general asked, turning to look at Jessica behind him.
“Maybe later,” she replied. “In the back.”
General Bacca moved aft to the small passenger cabin.
Jessica stepped up into the cockpit, keeping one eye on the general in the back. “You good?” she asked the commander.
“This shuttle appears to be highly automated,” the commander replied. “I do not anticipate difficulty.”
“A simple I’m good would have worked,” Jessica remarked, turning to join the general in the back.
“I’m assuming you already know where Captain Scott is being held?” General Bacca presumed as Jessica took her seat.
“We do.”
“Prepare for departure,” the commander announced from the cockpit.
“I believe I’d prefer to return with you and the commander, and be relocated as compensation for my assistance,” the general said as the shuttle began to rise off the pad. “Nothing fancy. Perhaps someplace tropical. I believe there were several small, uninhabited islands on your world.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Jessica replied curtly, annoyed by the general’s smugness.
“Maybe a boat,” he continued as the shuttle began to move forward. “Something live-aboard, I think.”
“Sail or motor?”
“Oh, motor, without a doubt,” the general insisted. “Sailing is for romantics. I’m more the practical type, myself.”
“How about you try to be the quiet type?” Jessica snapped.
* * *
Nathan sat at the small table in his cell, staring at the knife that had been left for him as a gesture of respect by the guard with whom Nathan had shared his last meal. It was a simple knife, with a ceramic blade and composite handle. Yet, sitting there on the table in front of him, it represented so much…
It represented escape. Escape from the long, torturous night of anguish that lay ahead of him. Escape from all the terrifying thoughts, and bitter disappointments, that swirled in his head. Escape from a long and painful public execution only hours away.
Nathan wondered if Trever would get in trouble for leaving the knife behind. If Nathan used it to end his own life, robbing the Jung people of the closure their leaders sought for them, Trever would likely be blamed. For all he knew, Trever might even be killed.
What about his wife? His kids?
Nathan wondered why he even cared. Trever was the enemy. A citizen of an empire that murdered millions of people on Earth, and Tanna, and likely billions more across the Sol sector and beyond. The Jung were a plague that had to be stopped.
Am I failing to stop them?
Nathan had believed that his surrender would buy the Alliance the time they needed to build a fleet that would keep the Jung in check. Perhaps even to one day bring their entire empire to its knees. But now, he wondered if he had given the Jung the same chance. After all, the Jung had greater resources, and a much larger and more capable industrial base.
But we have the jump drive.
Nathan kept telling himself that. The jump drive was their edge. That was what would save the Earth. That was what would stop the Jung. Not him. Not any one man.
And I saved it. I brought it back, from a thousand light years away.
It was the one thing he was proud of.
And so, he stared at the knife in front of him, trying to summon the courage to finally bring his life to a close. One last act of courage, this time, just for himself.
He suddenly realized what he wanted to say to his father.
* * *
Commander Telles climbed down the boarding steps from the shuttle in a calm, confident manner, stepping aside at the bottom and coming to attention as General Bacca emerged from the cabin door. The general wasted no time taking notice of the area surrounding the landing pad, wishing to appear as disinterested in such details as a man at his level of command would normally be.
Jessica was the next to emerge, carrying an equipment bag th
at she had repacked the Nifelmian device into during their flight over. She too appeared disinterested, although, just as the commander had done, she stealthily took notice of every detail around them as she climbed down the steps behind the general.
Commander Telles fell in place beside Jessica and behind the general, following him down the steps from the landing pad toward the guard house near the rooftop entrance.
The guard standing outside the door snapped to attention upon noticing the general’s rank insignias, trying hard to hide his surprise at the unannounced visit. “General,” the guard barked respectfully, his Jung curt and proper. “I am Sergeant Petray. Welcome to Detention Facility Eighteen, sir.”
“Sergeant,” the general replied casually. When the sergeant failed to immediately open the door for him, General Bacca paused and cast an annoyed look the sergeant’s way.
“Apologies, General, but we have not received notice of your visit,” the guard stated respectfully.
“I would think not,” the general replied, “as my work is highly classified.”
“If the general will pardon, I must speak to the officer of the watch, before I can grant entry. Again, my apologies, sir.”
“No matter,” General Bacca replied. “Just make it quick, Sergeant.”
“Of course, General,” the sergeant replied, taking note of the general’s name tag. He quickly stepped into the guard house and tapped the intercom button. At the same time, he activated the scanning device in the guard house.
General Bacca did his best to appear understanding of the guard’s need to follow protocol, but was nonetheless annoyed at the delay. Jessica and the commander both continued to stare straight ahead, as would be expected of them.
Moments later, the sergeant stepped out of the guard house, a nervous look on his face. “Again, my apologies, General Bacca. I have to ask about the contents of the lady’s bag.”
“You may ask,” the general replied, “but you will receive no explanation. That, too, is classified.” He looked the sergeant in the eyes. “Is there a problem…Sergeant?”
“No problem, General. I have been instructed to wait for Lieutenant Commander Effick, the officer of the watch. He wishes to speak with you personally, General.”
“This is highly irregular,” the general protested. “You do know who I am?”
“Of course, General. Again, I apologize. The lieutenant commander will be here momentarily.”
General Bacca could see that the sergeant was already nervous enough, and decided it was best not to push the issue further. He turned to face Jessica and the commander. “Most irregular,” he muttered, speaking just loud enough for the guard to overhear. “But to be expected, I suppose.”
A minute later, the officer of the watch appeared from the elevator door. “General Bacca, sir,” the lieutenant commander greeted politely. “I am Lieutenant Commander Effick, the officer of the watch. I apologize for the delay, sir, but we had no foreknowledge of your arrival, nor does anyone at command know anything about your visit.”
“As I explained to the sergeant, I am here on highly classified business. I could explain the nature of my visit, but then I would have to order Mister Duntan here to kill you both.”
The lieutenant commander was slightly taken aback by the general’s blatant threat. At first, he thought the general was joking, but when he saw no hint of a smile on the general’s face, he began to doubt himself. He looked into the eyes of the man the general had referred to as Mister Duntan as well. They were cold and calculating…definitely those of a man who found killing easy, and was likely quite skilled at it. “Of course, I understand, General. But please, you must understand that I alone am responsible for the security of this facility. There are protocols that I must follow. Surely you, of all people, understand that.”
The young officer was not as easily rattled as the general had hoped. General Bacca sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment. He then put his hand on the lieutenant commander’s shoulder, leading him away from the others as he spoke. “Lieutenant Commander—Effick, was it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What we have here is a rather sensitive situation, one that is not only highly classified, but also one that, if not handled discreetly, could cause some embarrassment to one of the lords of the leadership council.”
“I see,” the lieutenant commander replied.
“I was hoping to take care of this without any further complications. I promise you our visit will be brief, and uneventful.”
“I would very much like to help you, General, as well as any lord of the council, but I’m afraid I cannot allow you, your staff, or whatever equipment the young woman is carrying, to enter without knowing for sure that allowing such unauthorized entry does not pose a risk to the security of this facility.”
“Especially on this night,” the general added.
“I see the general is well informed as to our prisoner roster, then?” the lieutenant commander said, catching the hint.
“Indeed I am,” the general confirmed. “In fact, the prisoner to which you allude is the subject of my visit.”
The lieutenant commander looked even more concerned.
General Bacca sighed. “I suppose I have no choice but to share more with you than I should. After all, I am asking you to take considerable risk.” General Bacca held up his left hand and signaled Jessica. She immediately stepped forward. “Open the bag and show the lieutenant commander the device,” he instructed her.
Jessica hesitated, looking at the general.
“On my authority,” the general added.
“As you wish, General,” Jessica replied, also speaking in Jung. She placed the bag on the deck and opened it just enough for the lieutenant commander to peek inside.
“What is that?” the lieutenant commander wondered, speaking softly.
“Captain Scott was injected with top secret, advanced nanites designed to keep him alive during, shall we say, physically arduous interrogation. Unfortunately, the officer in charge of the interrogation failed to have those nanites disabled prior to releasing Captain Scott to stand trial. As you might imagine, it would be quite disappointing if Captain Scott did not die during his extremely public execution in the morning. Not to mention causing embarrassment to the family of the officer who committed this error. A rather prominent family, I might add.” The general looked at the lieutenant commander, as if asking if he understood the general’s inference.
The realization swept over the lieutenant commander. “Then this device is…”
“To disable those nanites, and ensure that no such embarrassment takes place,” the general confirmed.
The lieutenant commander studied what little he could see of the device through the opening. “It looks alien.”
“It is based on alien technology, yes,” the general admitted. “You have a good eye, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m sure Lord Torret will appreciate your cooperation in this matter,” the general said under his breath, “as well as your discretion.”
The lieutenant commander’s eyes widened. “Lord Torret? He asked you?”
“We go back many decades,” the general explained. “A favor, for an old friend. One that I’m sure will not be forgotten.”
“Of course, General, I understand,” the lieutenant commander said, suddenly eager to cooperate. “How long will you need, sir?”
General Bacca looked at Jessica for the answer.
“Fifteen minutes,” she replied, “twenty, at the most.”
“So long? Just to disable nanites?”
“Highly advanced, alien nanites,” the general explained.
“The nanites are quite fast at replicating within the host,” Jessica said, keeping her voice low so that
the others could not hear. “We must be quite certain that they have all been disabled.”
“I see. And this will not harm the prisoner?” the lieutenant commander inquired.
“It will render him unconscious for two, perhaps three hours,” Jessica stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“But he will be normal by the time he is to be executed?”
“Assuming we do not spend an undue amount of time discussing the issue out here on your rooftop,” General Bacca added.
“Of course. Of course,” the lieutenant commander agreed, signaling the guard to unlock the elevator doors. “I will show you to the prisoner myself, General. If you will all please follow me.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” General Bacca replied. He turned to look at Jessica, the slightest of grins on the corner of his mouth, as he followed the lieutenant commander.
* * *
Marcus climbed up the short ladder into the Mirai’s cockpit, spotting Josh sitting in the pilot’s seat. “How’s it goin’?”
Josh glanced back over his shoulder. “Fine.”
“Where’s Loki?”
“Sleeping, as you should be.” Josh looked at the mission clock on the console. “You’ve got the watch in another hour.”
“I ain’t tired,” Marcus grumbled. “Sucks havin’ nothin’ to do.”
“You can always review the systems’ manuals again,” Josh joked. “That would make Sergeant Isan happy.”
“That boy is wound too tight.”
“Everyone in the military is wound too tight,” Josh replied.
Marcus took a seat at the engineer’s station. “You gonna miss it?”
“The military? Hell no,” Josh declared. “Everyone always yelling at me. Always having to salute someone. All that ‘yes sir, no sir’ crap. Not to mention all the double-shifts in the cockpit. I’m pretty sure I’ve got permanent indentations on my butt from that damned flight harness.” Josh shifted in his seat. “How could you even ask?”