Ep.#6 - For the Triumph of Evil (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “How long is the flight?” Jessica asked as she strapped herself into the empty passenger module currently installed in Reaper Eight’s midsection.

  “There, about four hours,” Nathan answered. “Back, about twelve.”

  “Do we have to take the long way home?” Jessica wondered.

  “You, of all people, know the answer to that,” Nathan insisted. “We can’t chance that someone might follow our jump trail back to the fleet.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Besides, I brought movies.” Nathan smiled. “From Earth. Seven years worth that neither of us has seen.”

  “Did you bring popcorn, as well?” Jessica replied sarcastically.

  “No, but I did bring plenty of snacks.”

  “I thought we were rationing food.”

  “Rank has its privileges,” Nathan said. “Besides, I didn’t bring that much. Which reminds me, I have a shopping list the galley chief gave Cam.”

  “We’re going food shopping on Rakuen?” Jessica objected.

  “Deliza gave me the number of a lady to contact who can procure everything and deliver it to us. All we have to do is load it. She also gave me authorization to bill it to the Ranni accounts on Rakuen.”

  “Good, because I loathe shopping.”

  “You’re not normal, are you?” Nathan teased.

  “You’re just now figuring that out?” Jessica rebutted. “I thought the Nifelmians gave you a super-brain.”

  “This never gets old,” Josh declared, staring out the forward windows of the Reaper as they rolled out onto the starboard forward flight deck. In front of them, directly across the flight deck, parked along the starboard side, were two of the Cobra gunships they had brought back from Kohara days before.

  The Reaper rolled out to clear the transfer airlock, then turned to port to face the open forward end of the starboard flight deck. They could see the bow of the Aurora, its gentle, light-gray curves sweeping downward both forward and starboard from the leading edge of the massive corridor that made up the flight deck.

  The ship followed the pulsing yellow line, coming to a stop at its predetermined transition point.

  “Aurora Flight, Reaper Eight,” Loki called over comms. “Ready at starboard launch point one.”

  “Reaper Eight, Aurora Flight. Cleared for auto-departure from starboard launch point one. Jump point at one zero kilometers.”

  “Reaper Eight copies. Departure sequence received and loaded into auto-flight,” Loki reported. “Let’s go,” he told Josh.

  “Oh, boy, I get to push a button,” Josh exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. He reached out and pushed the auto-flight button, and the artificial gravity in their area of the flight deck immediately reduced to a fraction of the ship’s normal gravity. The auto-flight system took over and fired a tiny burst of translation thrust, pushing the Reaper half a meter off the deck. Another thrust pushed them forward, with several more firing to maintain their rate of ascent and forward translation, so the Reaper passed cleanly out of the forward end of the starboard flight deck before turning to its assigned departure heading. Once on its departure course, the main engines began to power up, and the Reaper accelerated smoothly away, leaving the Aurora and the rest of the Karuzari fleet behind them.

  “Thirty seconds to jump point,” Loki announced a minute later. “Auto-jump sequencer is loaded and ready, multi-jump series to Rakuen, with a few passes by various class A’s to hide our flight path.”

  A few seconds later, the windows turned opaque, and the Reaper’s auto-jump sequencer executed the first of a long series of jumps that would take them to the water world of Rakuen.

  “Why the hell did we spend three days in the sims if all we were going to do was push buttons, and sit on our asses?” Josh wondered.

  “In case the buttons don’t work,” Loki reminded him.

  * * *

  “Na-Tan, Nathan, I don’t care who he really is as long as he gets the job done,” Lieutenant Teison insisted as he monitored Falcon One’s flight dynamics display.

  “I’m just wondering which identity has the most influence on people,” Ensign Lassen argued from the back cabin. “The legend of Na-tan is a powerful one, especially among the more spiritually inclined of the PC. But that of Nathan Scott is more real.”

  “And it has the advantage of appealing to both groups,” Sergeant Nama added.

  “Riko’s right,” Ensign Lassen agreed. “The truly spiritual will see him as the Na-Tan of legend, while the non-spiritual will see him as the man who sacrificed everything, including his own life, to protect billions.”

  “But that right belongs to both identities, does it not?” the lieutenant suggested.

  “That’s my point,” Sergeant Nama insisted.

  “So, you’re saying that people will see him however they want to see him?”

  “Precisely,” the lieutenant agreed. “And that’s fine with me. It’s like the God argument. The power is in the confidence and ability that the belief instills in the individual. That’s all that matters. Who is right, or wrong, is irrelevant.”

  “How can it be irrelevant?” Ensign Lassen argued.

  “Because who is right doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to the individual.”

  “Which is what faith is all about,” the lieutenant pointed out. “Faith in something that has been proven through science isn’t faith, it’s fact, at which point it loses all meaning and power.”

  “What?” Sergeant Nama exclaimed from the sensor station behind the Falcon’s copilot seat.

  “If I believe something…a God, or some unseen force, or something, and that faith gives me strength and hope where I might otherwise have none, and then science comes along and proves my faith wrong, and I lose all strength and hope, how is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a good thing because you now have the truth,” Ensign Lassen insisted.

  “Sure, but it’s a truth that destroyed my happiness,” the lieutenant explained. “That’s why people choose to believe in something even when everything around them points to that belief being false. They’d rather keep the strength and hope their faith provides them. I’m saying that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

  “Nobody said it was!” the ensign exclaimed.

  “How the hell did we get into this?” Lieutenant Teison wondered.

  “I have no idea!” the ensign admitted.

  “Guys!” Sergeant Nama tried interrupting.

  “I think we were talking about Seena Mayhew, weren’t we?”

  “Guys!”

  “What?” the lieutenant wondered.

  “I’ve got a new contact!” the sergeant explained. “A jump flash, two thousand clicks, bearing two five seven, thirty up relative.”

  “What is it?” Ensign Lassen asked as he moved forward past the sergeant, and climbed back into the copilot’s seat.

  “The flash was too small to be a ship,” the sergeant said.

  “One of our recon drones checking in?”

  “Right size,” the sergeant admitted.

  “We’re still running cold, right?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Affirmative,” Ensign Lassen replied. “Zero emissions, minimal heat signature. And the light is too dim for anyone to see us, even if they were sitting on top of us.”

  “Anything else?” the lieutenant wondered.

  “Negative,” Sergeant Nama replied. “Just one tiny jump flash. It was in the expected return quadrant, though.” The sergeant looked forward at his lieutenant. “Should I ping it?”

  “How quick can we jump if it turns out to be a bogey?” Lieutenant Teison asked his copilot.

  “We’ve got plenty of jump juice still left in the energy banks, Lieutenant. So, as fast as you can push the button.”

  Lieutenant Teison sighed, looking at the time display. “The time is wrong. If it’s a recon drone, it’s early. Any idea what its trajectory was?”

  “Best guess, it’ll pass about five clicks to starbo
ard, slightly below. But that’s only a guess,” the sergeant admitted.

  Lieutenant Teison moved his finger to the escape jump button on his flight control stick, and took a deep breath. “Ping it, Riko.”

  “Going active…now,” the sergeant announced. “Contact! It just lit up. It’s a recon drone.”

  Lieutenant Teison felt a wave of relief wash over him. They had been sitting at the recon drone rendezvous point between the Darvano and Takara systems for hours, running cold to avoid detection by any Dusahn patrols who might pass nearby. It was a risky job, but it was far less risky than jumping into those systems, and collecting data in person. The Dusahn had gotten far too adept at detecting their position based on their jump flash when jumping into a system. But every time a recon drone returned to their position, they had to go through the same few seconds of torment. “Why the hell is it so early?” the lieutenant demanded. “The fucking thing nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “It must’ve picked up something important,” Ensign Lassen commented.

  “Keep your eyes glued to the threat display,” the lieutenant instructed his copilot. “Just in case one of those damned cube fighters followed it out.”

  “You got it, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m receiving data from the recon drone,” Sergeant Nama announced. After a few moments, he looked up. “It’s carrying a message from someone on the surface.”

  “Who?” the lieutenant wondered.

  “Someone who calls himself, ‘Willard the mutineer’,” the sergeant said, a confused look on his face.

  “What does the message say?” the lieutenant asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s encrypted.”

  Lieutenant Teison adjusted himself in his seat, preparing to get to work. “Plot a stealth course back to the fleet,” he instructed Ensign Lassen.

  “What about the other recon drones?” the ensign asked.

  “They’ll move to the secondary rendezvous point, well outside the PC, when they discover we’re not here,” the lieutenant reminded him. “I have a feeling this message is important.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Terig sat at his dining table, staring at the data chip sitting in front of him. His wife had left for a day of shopping over an hour ago, yet, he still had not worked up the nerve to listen to the audio recording he had smuggled out of House Mahtize. Part of him felt like doing so would be the final line of deceit, after which there would be no turning back. But he knew once he had erased the record of copying the file, he had committed an act of treason against his employer, and, quite possibly, against the Dusahn.

  But there was still that one problem: his conscience.

  Terig kept seeing the image of Nathan Scott in his mind, standing there in the middle of the Mystic’s main promenade, calling for people to rise up against the invaders. The man who had been willing to sacrifice his own life to save others. The man who had liberated the entire Pentaurus cluster from the reign of Caius Ta’Akar. The man who had given them the ability to travel between the stars in the blink of an eye.

  Nathan Scott had changed everything, for everyone. And he was not a superman. He was just a man, one not much older than Terig. Yet, with only minimal training and experience, he had accomplished great things. Was not such a man worthy of being followed?

  Terig took a deep breath, inserted the chip into his data pad, and started the audio playback. After listening for a few minutes, he wondered why he was getting so worried. This appeared to be just another man seeking to gain Lord Mahtize as a customer, or as a means to make contacts with other men of power and influence. Such men came calling frequently. Despite the fact that few of them got this far, made little difference at this point…

  Navarro? The name sounded familiar. Suvan Navarro? Based on his reaction, the name certainly seemed familiar to Lord Mahtize, as well. His employer was in shock. In fact, Terig had never heard him sound so flabbergasted. Lord Mahtize was acting like he’d seen a ghost.

  The more he listened to the tape, the more his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. This man, this Suvan Navarro, was obviously someone the Dusahn would be interested in, and that fact alone meant the Karuzari would be interested in him, as well.

  The Avendahl.

  Terig suddenly recognized the name. The captain of the Avendahl. The leader of the exiled House of Navarro, one of the oldest houses of Takara. The Navarro family had been one of the original settlers, coming over on the first colonization ship from Earth a thousand years ago. House Navarro also had the distinction of being the only noble house to ever be wiped from the records of Takara. In the eyes of his people, the Navarro family never existed.

  But he did exist… The Teyentah? He wants to steal the Teyentah?

  Terig had to back the recording up and listen to that part again, in case he had misheard it.

  Oh, my God.

  Terig stopped the playback, his mind racing. This was definitely something the Karuzari would be interested in. He continued listening to the recording, being careful to commit everything he heard to memory.

  By the time he reached the end, he felt weak. His pulse was racing, and he was sweating.

  I am not cut out for this kind of work, he thought.

  Jessica’s instructions ran through his mind; the address on Haven, the molo farm out in the middle of nowhere. He quickly logged onto the net to place an order for molo twine. It was commonly used in candles that kept bugs away during humid nights on Takara, and would not raise suspicion. After several minutes of searching, he found the seller he was looking for. Taggart Farms.

  Terig quickly encrypted the file, using the algorithm Jessica had made him memorize before he left the Mystic, then attached the file to the order as a special shipping instruction.

  Terig’s finger hovered over the ‘purchase’ button on his data pad screen for what seemed an eternity. This really was the point of no return. Of that, there could be no doubt. For he was sending intelligence that aided the enemy of the Dusahn. The punishment for that was undoubtedly death…to him, and likely his wife, as well.

  He only hoped she would understand.

  * * *

  “You wanted to see me?” Cameron asked Lieutenant Commander Shinoda as she entered the Aurora’s intelligence center.

  “Yeah. Does the name ‘Willard the mutineer’ ring a bell?”

  “Actually, it does. Michael Willard, the Corinairan who mutinied and took over the Yamaro. If it wasn’t for him, the Aurora wouldn’t be around, and Earth would still be ruled by the Jung. But, I’ve never heard him referred to in that way. Why do you ask?”

  “Falcon One just returned with a message that was intercepted by one of our recon drones. Apparently, it was from your Mister Willard.”

  “What does the message say?”

  “We don’t know yet,” the lieutenant commander said. “It’s encrypted, and we don’t know the key.”

  “Can you break it?” Cameron wondered.

  “Probably, but it could take some time.”

  “Then why did you call me down here now?”

  “There’s a key-clue included in the header,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda explained. “‘Why I mutinied.’”

  “Why I mutinied?” Cameron looked at the lieutenant commander.

  “That’s what it says.”

  Cameron’s mind raced. “He mutinied because he didn’t want to die.”

  “Were you about to take them out?”

  “I wasn’t even there for that part,” Cameron said. “I was unconscious, in medical, gravely wounded.” Cameron continued to struggle to remember the details from the battle, as told to her later by Jessica during her recovery. “The Yamaro was losing the battle. They ducked behind Corinair, trying to get away from us.” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “The Corinairans fired nukes at them, from the surface! They were sitting ducks. Willard mutinied and immediately offered their unconditional surrender. Nathan had to contact the Corinairans and get them to abort the strike.”


  “So, what do we put in as the encryption key?”

  “He mutinied to avoid the nukes,” Cameron told him. “Try ‘nukes’.”

  The lieutenant commander entered the word, but it was not accepted. “That’s not it.”

  Cameron thought for a moment. “Willard speaks more Angla than English,” she said to herself. “More proper. Uses way too many words.”

  “But the key can’t be that long,” the lieutenant commander said.

  “Nukes isn’t enough,” she decided. “Try, ‘to avoid the nukes’.”

  The lieutenant commander entered the phrase. “Nope.”

  “‘To escape the nukes’?”

  “Nope,” the lieutenant commander replied.

  “‘To avoid the missiles’?”

  “Nope.”

  “Damn, I know that’s the reason,” Cameron cursed, “we just have to figure out how he would phrase it.”

  “Would he use the term ‘nukes’ or ‘nuclear’?” the lieutenant commander wondered.

  “Probably ‘nuclear’, but ‘to avoid the nuclear missiles’ is too long, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe just ‘nuclear missiles’,” the lieutenant commander suggested, entering the phrase as he spoke. “Nope, that wasn’t it, either.”

  “Would ‘inbound nuclear missiles’ fit in the key variable?” Cameron asked.

  “It would,” the lieutenant commander replied, entering the words into the computer. “That did it!” he announced as the message began to decrypt.

  Cameron leaned over, reading the message. “Willard and many of the ex-Corinari have formed an underground resistance on Corinair, but they need support. They have devised a method for secure surface-to-space communication, and a decryption algorithm.” Cameron laughed. “They’re using one of the old Terran algorithms…the ones used by the original FTL scout ships. That’s definitely Michael Willard. No one else on Corinair would even know about that old algorithm.” She looked at Lieutenant Commander Shinoda. “I’ll prepare a reply. Have Falcon One deliver it via recon drone, according to the time table in this message.”