Ep.#12 - A Price Too High (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  “I’m flattered, Captain, but we can’t take down that dreadnought by ourselves.”

  “What about with the help of two Strikers, twelve Orochi, and fifty Gunyoki?” Nathan asked. “Oh, and the Weatherly, as well.”

  “That would certainly help,” the commander replied, “assuming we are able to get enough of their shields down.”

  “I’m betting they’re not going to jump back; that they’re running home with their tail between their legs, but I’d feel better if you could take your working birds back to Rakuen for the time being.”

  “We’ll be off the deck in five minutes,” the commander promised.

  “Thank you, Commander,” Nathan replied, looking to Jessica.

  “It may sound like a lot, but it’s still doubtful they can take that dreadnought down without us,” Jessica warned.

  “Their forward shields are already down,” Nathan reminded her. “That’s a start.”

  “Not much of one,” she replied.

  “They’re running home, I’m certain of it.” Nathan turned to face forward again. “Josh, turn us toward Orswella. Loki, plot a jump and stand by.”

  * * *

  Vol pressed the jump button on his flight control stick, but, when his fighter came out of the jump, the visual was not what he expected. The lead cruiser was breaking apart, secondary explosions deep within its hull, splitting it into multiple sections, and debris spinning away from the doomed vessel. “Finally!” he exclaimed.

  “The second cruiser is at two seven, eleven up, three hundred thousand kilometers,” Isa reported. “We might have enough time to stop it, but…”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Vol said, cutting him short as he turned toward the next target. “Drop a comm-buoy, target the second cruiser, forward port shields, left-right, sharp angles, switcheroo, eights and fours, random zeta four, plus two.”

  “Got it,” Isa replied.

  Vol rolled his fighter out of its turn, adjusted his jump range, and jumped again, coming out only a few hundred meters away from the front of the second cruiser, head-to-head and closing fast. He pressed and held his firing button, sending bolts of plasma energy from the mighty cannons on the front of his port and starboard engine nacelles.

  Its guns already pointing forward, the automated Orswellan cruisers opened up on them, lighting up their shields with each impact; their ship bouncing wildly from the blows. So frequent were the impacts, he did not bother looking out his forward window since the flashes only obscured his vision.

  His attack lasted only seconds, pitching up and jumping away just before the much larger cruiser blocked his jump line.

  “That pass cost us half our shield strength,” Isa warned. “We’re not going to be able to make many more of those.”

  “I know,” Vol replied as he began his turn.

  * * *

  Vol’s fighter rocked violently as its port shields failed, and several blasts from the cruiser’s point-defense cannons impacted its armored hull.

  “Port shields are gone!” Isa announced, stating the obvious.

  Vol immediately rolled their fighter over, putting their starboard shields toward the third cruiser, which was attempting to defend its partner.

  “We’ve gotta jump,” Isa urged.

  Vol ignored him, holding his course as he continued to pummel the second cruiser with his own plasma cannons.

  “Vol!”

  Vol glanced up at his attack timer as it reached eight seconds and pressed the jump button on his flight control stick, instantly transitioning to his escape point. “How bad?”

  “Port shields are gone,” Isa replied. “We’ve lost two emitters on the aft quarter.”

  “Can you isolate them and give us just the forward half of the port shield?” Vol asked as he initiated his turn.

  “Yes, but it will be iffy, at best.”

  “It will have to do.”

  “Vol, the second cruiser’s shields are still over fifty percent, and we’ve only got fifteen minutes to impact.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “We won’t survive another head-on pass, but we can draw some of their cannons off the others.”

  “You mean, attack the third cruiser?”

  “If we attack from their stern port quarter, we should be able to get quite a few shots off before they can bring their defenses around. And there won’t be anywhere near as many guns on us…”

  “…Because the second cruiser won’t defend the third while it is under attack.”

  “And the third cruiser will stop defending the second one while it is under attack,” Isa added.

  “A simple and elegant solution,” Vol admitted. “I am embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself.”

  “That’s why there are two seats in this ship,” Isa replied.

  “You may regret your suggestion,” Vol warned as he came out of his turn and pressed the jump button again. Suddenly, the third Orswellan cruiser appeared before him, filling up his forward window. He pressed his firing button, sending streams of red-orange plasma bolts toward the cruiser, lighting up its shields. But the target’s shields held, as expected.

  Vol continued firing, taking advantage of the few seconds of unchallenged attack their change of tactics had bought them, but that’s all it was. The cruiser’s top and bottom aft cannons came around quickly, abandoning their defense of the second cruiser in favor of its own defense.

  Again, Vol’s forward shields lit up with the incoming energy impacts. He yawed his ship to port just enough to protect his weaker port forward shield, while adjusting the angle of his engine nacelles to keep his main cannons on the target. As they passed over the top of the target, he pitched down, again keeping his cannons trained on the enemy ship as he fired continuously. The cruiser’s bottom turret was forced to disengage, but the forward topside turret was able to take its place. Vol could no longer maintain a lock with both cannons and was forced to jump away to protect his ship. “I don’t suppose we did any damage to them?”

  “Maybe a one-percent drop in their aft port shields,” Isa replied. “But at least we’ve kept three guns off everyone else.”

  “Then we’d better get back to it,” Vol decided as he pulled their ship into a tight, one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.

  “We can only survive a half-dozen passes at the most,” Isa reminded him.

  “I know.”

  “I’m just saying…”

  “You don’t need to,” Vol interrupted. “I am well aware that we are fighting a losing battle, but there are several million people on Orswella, and we cannot just sit by and watch them die.”

  “Even if we die trying?” Isa wondered.

  “Even if we die trying,” Vol confirmed.

  “What about Rakuen?” Isa asked. “We’re supposed to defend them, aren’t we?”

  “You mean the Rogen system,” Vol corrected.

  “You know what I mean,” Isa insisted.

  “We are part of an alliance, now,” Vol reminded his friend. “We fight for more than just our own people.” Vol rolled his ship out of its turn, lining up on their next attack vector. “Trust me, my friend, I have no desire to die, but, if I must, I prefer it to be for good reason. Protecting millions is good enough for me.”

  “Me, as well,” Isa assured him.

  Vol dialed in the distance for his next jump and then pressed the jump button. Again, his forward window was filled with the third Orswellan cruiser, only a few hundred meters ahead of them and growing larger with each passing millisecond.

  Vol opened fire again, sending streams of red-orange plasma into the target’s shields, causing them to flash brilliantly with each impact. This time, the enemy’s guns were already pointed in their general direction and opened fire within a few seconds of their arrival.

  The ship jolted, it
s back end kicking to the right, causing Vol to slam into the left side of his canopy. Alarms began going off, and red warning lights lit up across his console.

  “We just lost our port nacelle!” Isa reported. “The port forward shield couldn’t take it!”

  “I’m losing lateral control,” Vol stated as he struggled to control the ship. Another blast slammed into them, cutting through their port side, just behind their empty missile pod.

  “We’re hit!” Isa barked as the critical systems alarm began blaring.

  “I’ve lost all maneuvering!” Vol replied. “Drop a mayday marker!”

  “Dropping marker!”

  “Standby to eject!” Vol added.

  “Marker away!” Isa announced as he reached down for the ejection handle between his legs. “Ready!”

  “Eject!” Vol ordered.

  There was a rapid series of explosions, and the canopy flew away from their tumbling fighter. A second later, the cockpit filled with smoke, and Vol’s back became warm. He glanced at his console and saw that Isa had ejected, then reached down and pulled his own ejection handle.

  Vol felt a sudden slap in the underside of his seat as the ejection thruster blasted him clear of the tumbling Gunyoki fighter. “Isa!” he yelled over comms. “Can you hear me?”

  There was nothing but silence.

  “ISA!”

  The interior of his helmet lit up, filled with yellow and white flashes. Debris streaked silently past him on all sides. He tried to look down but could not get visual confirmation of what he already knew to be true.

  “Tekka One! Tekka One Four! I have your marker! Say your status!”

  “I am uninjured,” Vol replied, “but Isa is not answering my hails!”

  “I’ve got you on sens…”

  Another flash of yellow and white light washed over him. “TOMIDA!”

  The ejection thruster stopped, and Vol found himself beginning to rotate slowly on at least two axes. As he came around, he spotted both cruisers, still headed for the planet. In minutes, they would reach the surface, and all life on Orswella would be wiped out.

  Vol watched in silence as a Gunyoki fighter jumped in, fired on the lead cruiser, and then jumped out eight seconds later. Four seconds after that, another fighter appeared from an entirely different angle. It, too, fired upon the lead cruiser for eight seconds before jumping away.

  From his new vantage point, it seemed an exercise in futility. Tiny little Gunyoki, like toray bugs attacking a vella hog, hoping to kill the beast with a million stings. Possible, but unlikely, at best.

  After a few minutes, he tired of the view and, instead, shifted his eyes to the doomed world below. It was smaller than Rakuen with not even half as much water but, from space, it appeared beautiful in its own right. He wondered how its appearance would change once the cruisers struck it and took a large portion of it away with its antimatter reactors. Ironic that he would now have to witness that which he had been trying to prevent: the death of an entire society and, perhaps, an entire world.

  Another brilliant flash appeared, this time from behind him, and this time a different color: bluish white.

  A shadow came over him. Vol looked up as a familiar shape passed overhead. No other ship had those curvy lines, almost like that of a beautiful woman.

  He watched as the Aurora opened fire on the third cruiser with everything it had: plasma torpedoes, plasma cannons, rail guns, and point-defense weapons. The barrage was terrifying. The trailing cruiser tried to defend itself, but to no avail. Within a few seconds, its aft shields fell to the immense energy being thrown into them, and the back of the cruiser was defenseless.

  All of the Aurora’s weapons suddenly ceased fire; all of them except her forward plasma torpedo cannons. A single wave of four torpedoes, firing in rapid succession, tore open the cruiser’s stern, breaching her main drive, as well as her antimatter reactor. The Aurora disappeared in another blue-white flash of light just as the cruiser’s antimatter reactor lost containment, consuming what was left of the vessel in a brilliant white ball of light that dissipated within seconds.

  Vol wondered how he had been lucky enough to be out of the blast range of the cruiser’s antimatter event. Despite surviving the blast, he was certain that he had been bathed in some sort of deadly radiation that would greatly shorten his life, if not kill him in minutes.

  Another blue-white flash of light. This time, in the distance and to the right of the remaining cruiser. Again, the Aurora opened fire, pounding the target with everything it had. Again, the target’s shields were overwhelmed, and the mighty Aurora’s plasma torpedoes tore it apart. The Aurora disappeared, yet again, just as the last Orswellan cruiser was consumed by its own antimatter event.

  It was worth it, Vol thought to himself.

  * * *

  General Telles stood at the edge of the makeshift landing zone as the Ranni shuttle touched down. The side hatch opened, and Captain Scott stepped out, followed by Lieutenant Commander Nash, Commander Andreola, and his daughter.

  “Welcome to Orswella, Captain,” General Telles greeted.

  “How are things?” Nathan asked.

  “We believe we have rounded up the majority of the Dusahn combatants,” the general said as the group walked toward the building, “but we suspect that many of them may have abandoned their weapons and gone covert.”

  “How are you going to deal with them?” Nathan wondered as they entered the building.

  “For now, we are conducting in-depth surface scans looking for energy signatures that would indicate weapons, but there are many weapons that are undetectable. At some point, we will need to conduct a city-wide search.”

  “You’ll need more than a hundred men,” Nathan surmised.

  “Far more,” the general agreed. “In the meantime, the best we can do is to protect critical infrastructure and assist the people of Orswella in rebuilding their security forces.”

  “The Orswellan constabulary was never armed,” Commander Andreola told the general. “It was never necessary, since the citizenry possesses no weapons.”

  “The guard had weapons, though,” Jessica said.

  “Yes, but those were taken from us when the Dusahn took over,” the commander explained.

  “Can the original officers be reinstated?” Nathan wondered.

  “Most would be past their prime by now,” the commander warned, “and they would likely fear being targeted by covert Dusahn agents.”

  “For now, I have instituted martial law, but my men are spread terribly thin,” the general said. “We could use something other than cargo shuttles to move teams around more quickly. They require larger landing zones.”

  “We can give you the Diggers,” Nathan told him. “They are still a bit large, but they are armed and definitely smaller than a cargo shuttle.”

  “Anything would help,” General Telles admitted.

  “Commander Prechitt was wondering why you haven’t availed yourself of the Corinari that have been training with your men,” Jessica stated.

  “I plan to,” General Telles promised, “but for the time being, it is safer for my men to function without them.”

  “Why?” Nathan wondered. “At the very least, they could help with the searches.”

  “No offense to the Corinari, but their very presence will hinder operations at this point. They are fine soldiers, but they lack the willpower and self-discipline to do some of the morally distasteful things that often must be done. For the Ghatazhak to be effective, we must be allowed to be Ghatazhak.”

  “So you’re saying babysitting the Corinari will slow you down,” Nathan surmised.

  “I am trying very hard not to say that,” the general corrected.

  “Well, once things settle down, I think the Corinari can serve as an effective police force until such time as the Orswellans are able
to police themselves,” Nathan said.

  “That could take some time,” General Telles warned. “From what I have gathered, there are currently no political leaders on Orswella.”

  Nathan looked at Commander Andreola. “Is this true?”

  “It is,” the commander confirmed. “Orswella’s entire political structure was dismantled, and all our politicians were jailed and eventually executed.”

  “On what charges?” Jessica wondered.

  “The Dusahn never offered any explanation,” Commander Andreola stated. “Many theorized that they feared them, but I believe they did so to make us fear them, which, incidentally, worked.”

  “Having a former leader around would speed things up considerably,” Nathan commented.

  “It will be difficult to find someone willing to put their family at risk,” Commander Andreola warned.

  General Telles stopped at the door. “Inside are the captains of the cruisers. Perhaps one of them would be willing to lead their people.”

  “Let’s find out,” Nathan said, gesturing toward the door.

  General Telles opened the door, allowing the others to enter before him.

  “Captain Scott,” one of the men greeted, standing.

  Nathan immediately recognized him. “Captain Yofferst,” he replied, offering his hand.

  “Marlon,” Commander Andreola greeted. “It is good to see you again.”

  “You, as well, Stethan.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Captain,” Nathan said. “I trust your crews were safely evacuated?”

  “Yes, from all ships,” Captain Yofferst assured him. “Your Ghatazhak were kind enough to ensure that we were rounded up safely.”

  “My apologies, Captain, but it cannot be helped. We must make certain that there are no Dusahn operatives among your ranks.”

  “I can promise you that no man under my command is Dusahn. Some may have been born under Dusahn rule, but they are all Orswellan, born and bred. I am certain my fellow captains can say the same.”

  “It should be simple enough to verify this via simple DNA tests,” Nathan said, “but that will take some time.”