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

by Ryk Brown

  “Until they do, they’re likely to avoid putting any of their best ships in harm’s way,” Nathan surmised. “Not until they’re, once again, certain of their superiority.”

  “Typical bullies,” Jessica commented, “only picking fights with those they know they can beat.”

  “Doctor Sorenson,” Nathan called, “any progress on how the Sugali anti-grav systems are able to penetrate the Dusahn shields?”

  “Actually, thanks to Deliza, I may have an answer,” Abby replied. “At the distance the emitters are placed on the Nighthawks, a unique wave pattern forms where the anti-grav fields overlap. The waves only form at idle settings. Our working theory is that this wave form disrupts the Dusahn’s energy shields, by somehow spreading the wave pattern through the immediate area of the enemy’s shields.”

  “Why does it only work at slow speeds?” Nathan wondered.

  “I suspect it has something to do with the rate at which the wave pattern spreads through their shields.”

  “That won’t work for the jump missiles,” Cameron observed. “The speed at which they leave the launch rails is already too fast. We’d have to be traveling in the opposite direction just to get them down to the correct speed.”

  “And due to their jump range limitations, we’d have to be so close that we’d have only seconds to launch before detection,” Nathan added. “Is there any way to make it work at higher speeds?”

  “I’ve only just begun my experiments and have yet to discern all the variables involved, so I can’t really speculate.”

  “Well, the sooner the better,” Nathan suggested.

  “Of course,” Abby replied, nodding.

  “Commander,” Nathan said, looking to Vladimir, “you’re up.”

  “The damage sustained over the last few battles is minimal,” Vladimir reported. “Therefore, I have tasked all available personnel on the installation of the second long-range jump drive.”

  “How long until it’s completed?” Nathan asked.

  “As long as we don’t run into any problems, or get delayed by jumping around, about two weeks. Once complete, we will deal with the current battle damage.”

  “Until we have enough range to jump anywhere within our current operational area, engage the enemy, and jump back, we cannot take down the Dusahn,” Nathan said. “So, you get the same instructions as Doctor Sorenson…the sooner the better.”

  “Two weeks,” Vladimir repeated firmly.

  Nathan turned to Deliza next. “Any progress on fitting the Gunyoki with anti-grav lift capabilities?”

  “It should work just fine,” Deliza replied. “We have some flight control system integration issues to deal with, but we’ll figure it out. I expect to have a prototype ready by the end of the week.”

  “Excellent,” Nathan replied. “Hopefully, we’ll be back by then.”

  “About that,” Cameron said. “Have you considered the risks? I mean, it could be a trap, after all.”

  “I’m so proud,” Jessica joked.

  “Seriously, as far-fetched as that might seem, it fits. What better way to lure us into a trap than to dangle some super-tech in front of us?”

  “How would they know we were going to Sanctuary?” Nathan asked. “And if they did know, why not just ambush us there?”

  “What if they already control SilTek?” Cameron suggested. “You could be flying into a Dusahn-controlled system.”

  “Lieutenant Rezhik already did some digging back on Sanctuary,” Jessica assured her. “Everything indicates that SilTek is exactly what their representative says they are: the biggest tech company in the quadrant. There is no indication that the Dusahn are even aware of its existence.”

  “Regardless of the risk,” Nathan said, “which I believe to be quite low, the potential for a new ally is worth it.”

  “Even when their representative swears they don’t believe in alliances?” Cameron challenged.

  “Even if all we get out of this are faster, more efficient manufacturing technologies, it will be worth it,” Nathan replied.

  “I still think you should take a squad of Ghatazhak with you,” Cameron insisted.

  “Everything indicates SilTek is a peaceful, corporate-owned world,” Jessica told her. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble.”

  “Well, if you do, we’re going to be three max-range jumps away from you, so you’re going to be on your own for at least twelve hours, assuming you can even get a call for help out to us.”

  “We’ll leave a comm-drone somewhere in the SilTek system before we land,” Nathan promised. “That way, we can call for help if needed.”

  “And if they find it?” Cameron wondered.

  Nathan sighed, thinking for a moment. “It’ll take us two days to get there. Figure at least two or three days there, then another two days back. If everything is on the up and up, then they shouldn’t mind if we keep in touch with you. So, if you don’t hear from us in a week, you’ll know we’re in trouble.”

  * * *

  Nathan left his ready room and stepped onto the bridge, about to head out.

  “New message from General Telles,” Naralena reported as he passed.

  Nathan paused, turning to face her. “Good news, I hope.”

  “What’s up?” Cameron wondered, walking over to him.

  Nathan quickly scanned the data pad Naralena had handed him. “The general is requesting personal weapons to arm the Corinari and create an interim police force, until a sufficient number of Orswellans can be trained to take over.”

  “Trouble on Orswella?”

  “He’s concerned that Dusahn operatives may be mixed in among the population and could conduct strikes against critical infrastructure, or worse.”

  “Or worse?”

  “Orswella has several antimatter power plants,” Nathan explained. “Anyone of them, if sabotaged, could take out a large portion of the city, if not all of it.”

  “We don’t have a stash of personal weapons,” Cameron said. “At least not in the numbers he’s talking about.”

  Nathan sighed. “I suppose we could fabricate them, but that would take some time.”

  “It would be a start.”

  “Naralena, send a message to Marcus on Sanctuary. Tell him we need guns…lots of them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Marcus?” Cameron wondered.

  “There are a lot of black market weapons dealers on Sanctuary,” Nathan explained. “Hopefully, one of them can handle a large order, quickly.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “Nope. Got any better ideas?”

  “At the moment, no,” Cameron admitted.

  “Then, Marcus is it,” Nathan replied.

  * * *

  Nathan and Jessica stepped through the hatch into the Aurora’s main hangar bay, each of them carrying a small duffel bag. To the starboard side, the Nighthawks were preparing for departure.

  “Commander,” Nathan called out as they drew near. “I’ll catch up to you,” he told Jessica. “Leaving already?” he asked the commander.

  “Nothing personal, Captain,” Commander Prechitt joked. “I promised Commander Verbeek I’d get his pilots back to him in a few days.”

  “Well, now that the Dusahn are back on their side of the playground, I suppose we can do without you, for now. Hopefully, Doctor Sorenson will figure out how to make our jump missiles penetrate their shields.”

  “That would certainly make things easier,” the commander agreed.

  “Tell Commander Verbeek and the rest of our pilots that we look forward to their return,” Nathan told him.

  “I’ll be sure to do so,” the commander replied.

  “I’d like to thank you, as well, Miss Sane,” Nathan told Talisha. “None of this is your fight.”

  “I respectfully
disagree, Captain,” Talisha replied. “Stopping the Dusahn is everyone’s fight. If not now, then eventually.”

  “If only everyone saw it that way,” Nathan replied.

  “Are you going somewhere, Captain?” Commander Prechitt wondered, noticing the duffel bag in his hand.

  “Another diplomatic mission,” Nathan replied. “To SilTek, this time.”

  “SilTek?” Talisha said.

  “Yes, you’ve been there?”

  “Oh, no,” Talisha assured him. “You have to be fairly well-connected to get permission to visit SilTek. But I have heard a lot about it.”

  “Oh, really? What can you tell me?”

  “Only that it’s supposed to be a very beautiful, and a very advanced, world.”

  “You know people who have been there?” Nathan asked.

  “Oh, no, I don’t generally run in such circles,” Talisha assured him. “It’s more like second, or even third, hand knowledge. I don’t suppose you need a fighter escort,” she added with a wink.

  “Probably not the best way to make a good first impression, I’m afraid.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “I had to try.”

  “What about your other three ships?” Nathan asked the commander. “The ones that were damaged?”

  “One of them has been repaired enough to make the trip home,” the commander explained. “The other two are hitching a ride on the Weatherly.”

  “Ah, of course,” Nathan replied.

  “You know, I still cannot fathom a jump range of five hundred light years,” the commander said, shaking his head.

  “Twice that, once we get the second jump drive installed,” Nathan boasted.

  “It will open up a whole new era,” the commander insisted.

  “I’m just hoping it doesn’t open up a whole new set of problems, as well,” Nathan said, picking up his duffel. “Safe journeys.”

  “To you, as well, Captain,” Talisha replied.

  * * *

  Lieutenant Rezhik entered the main living area of their suite on Sanctuary. “Mister Taggart, may I speak with you?” he asked Marcus as he headed out onto the patio.

  “I was just getting comfortable,” Marcus grumbled, rising from his recliner to following the lieutenant into the simulated outdoor space. “What’s so important you took me from the game?”

  “What game?” the lieutenant wondered.

  “Ori-ball.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” the lieutenant admitted.

  “A bunch of guys in padded tights flying around a sealed room on some kind of flying plank, trying to kill each other while also trying to whack a hovering ball into holes at each end.”

  Lieutenant Rezhik looked confused. “Do the players actually die?”

  “No, but they do get busted up quite a bit.”

  “Unusual game.”

  “It’s new. As far as I can tell, it only exists, here, on Sanctuary.”

  “I have received a message from the Aurora. General Telles is in need of weapons to arm the Corinari in order to form an interim police force to help protect Orswella.”

  “Protect them from what?”

  “He suspects the presence of Dusahn operatives.”

  “How many guns does he need?”

  “An exact number was not given, but considering their purpose, I would guess a few thousand, at least.”

  “Handguns and rifles, I suppose.”

  “Correct,” the lieutenant confirmed. “Stun weapons would be of use, as well.”

  “Tall order,” Marcus said, rubbing his chin. “Most of the gun dealers on Sanctuary deal in smaller numbers or specialty weapons. The only dealers who can move that kind of order are down in the Jungle.”

  “The Jungle?”

  “The lower levels, beneath the environmental systems and the heat and humidity exchangers. They call it the Jungle because it is hot and humid down there. Stinks like a swamp, as well. Probably the most dangerous area on the station.”

  “You have been there?”

  Marcus laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

  “If it is that dangerous, perhaps one of my men should accompany you?”

  “Not if you want me to find a seller,” Marcus argued. “They’ll make your guys in a heartbeat. Better I go alone.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yeah, you just have to know how to talk to these people. The moment they sense weakness, they’ll pounce.”

  “Yet another reason to call it the Jungle.”

  “You got it,” Marcus replied. “How soon does the general need these guns?”

  “As soon as possible,” the lieutenant replied. “I’m afraid your ori-ball game will have to wait.”

  “That’s okay,” Marcus snickered. “It’ll give me an excuse to miss out on whatever green crap Neli’s making and get some real food down in the Jungle.”

  * * *

  It had taken less than two days for the common markets to reopen after the Dusahn’s failed retaliatory attack against Orswella. Even with the additional destruction the bombardment had brought, they were determined to take advantage of their newfound freedom.

  The common markets were once the pride of Orswellan culture. Farmers, ranchers, and makers of any basic products that people used day in and day out were sold there. In the early days of the settlement, the markets had been the sole source of such products, and the original settlers had taken great pride in their wares. Over time, as with all the colonies of Earth, industrialization took over, and the common markets faded into near obscurity, their only patrons being the traditionalists who were few in number.

  The arrival of the Dusahn had given the common markets a resurgence. Their conquerors had usurped most of what Orswellan industry produced for their own uses. Rationing of basic needs had given the common markets a new customer base. The Dusahn had wisely chosen to ignore the markets, since their existence served to ease the suffering of the people and helped to keep them in line.

  Although the Dusahn were now gone, many feared an even greater shortage of food and water. Thousands swarmed the rows of traders, buying as much as they could for fear the credits they held would lose value, now that the government that backed them were gone.

  On this day, there was a palpable feeling of hope among the patrons. Despite all they had endured over the last few days, and despite the sudden shortages of even the most basic needs, the market’s ability to save them was inspiring. Shoppers carried all they could manage, with plans to return for more once they could get home and unload their goods.

  The market was comprised of four intersecting streets, all of which met at a park in the middle. On some days, live musicians would perform in the center square. Today was no exception, and one of Orswella’s most prominent musical groups had an audience of hundreds, captivated by their lilting melodies.

  The unexpected number of patrons, as well as the popularity of the performers, forced the Ghatazhak to maintain a presence, as well. The sudden removal of a controlling power historically opened the door for criminals and opportunists alike. Until a police force could be mustered, the Ghatazhak were the only law enforcement available. Unfortunately, the crowd numbered in the thousands, and the Ghatazhak’s total numbers were just over one hundred, the majority of whom were guarding Orswella’s most critical infrastructures. Thus, the common markets had a minimal squad of Ghatazhak to handle security. To make matters worse, their rules of engagement were even more limited than usual.

  When a man wandering through the markets appeared to have little interest in the vendors and their wares, no one noticed. When that same man wandered behind the open-air stage, where the majority of the crowd was gathered, no one noticed. No one was aware of the threat until it presented itself; when the man walked out onto the stage, grabbed the microphone from one of the vocalists, and proclaim
ed, “There are more ways to punish the disloyal than from the sky!” The man pulled a remote out of his pocket, pressed a button, and the entire market, along with every person, disappeared in a brilliant white explosion.

  * * *

  The Jungle was aptly named. Not only was it hot and humid, but there was a palpable ‘predator and prey’ environment down in the bowels of Sanctuary station. To anyone foolish enough to wander into the Jungle unaware, it seemed like a wonderland of sin and debauchery. While the upper levels were cleaner, more evenly lit, and far more regulated, the Jungle was the exact opposite. Although many areas were colorfully illuminated, shadows everywhere hid its ramshackle reality. The air was thick with numerous odors, some of them foul, and others meant to mask the unpleasant aromas. A low-hanging smoke wafted about, weaving in and out of makeshift booths and storefronts, generated by countless sources, the majority of which were illegal on most worlds…but not on Sanctuary and, especially, not in the Jungle.

  It was said that those who entered the Jungle, left there forever changed. It was a place that hosted all the things humanity needed, but to which no one wanted to admit their dependence. Marcus had entered the Jungle for the first time at an early age; although, at the time, it had not been relegated to just the lower decks. In his heyday, most of Sanctuary was ‘the Jungle’, but of varying degrees. Even then, the lower levels had been the most dangerous and the most mesmerizing. His first visit had changed him, as well, introducing him to all the evils and ills of humanity; all of them assembled in a one-stop shopping environment. Most people could go a lifetime and never be exposed to a fraction of what the lower levels of Sanctuary had to offer. Just a few hours in the Jungle could expose one to a wide range of sins, even a few that most had never heard of. On his first visit, Marcus had remained for an entire week.

  But that had been more than a century ago…or was it two? So much of his past had long been forgotten. Decades of faster-than-light travel while in suspended animation had that effect. Details were lost, time scales were altered…relativity was a bitch. At times, Marcus had cursed his early career choice. A long-hauler didn’t get to have relationships. Even the crews he worked with were mostly strangers, the majority of them signing on and then jumping ship once they reached their destination. Few were able to stick with the job, and those who did usually had their reasons.