Ep.#14 - A Line in the Sand (The Frontiers Saga - Part 2: Rogue Castes)

by Ryk Brown

  Talisha’s admiration of the legendary defenders of Rakuen was interrupted by her AI.

  “Corinari control is transmitting the action signal,” Leta reported over the cockpit’s speakers.

  Talisha grabbed her helmet from its resting place on the bulkhead behind her flight seat. “Close it up and prepare for combat departure,” she instructed her AI. “Here we go.”

  Aiden and his crew had begun their patrol cycle only a day ago, and already he was bored out of his mind. The endless cycle of jump-scan-jump was mind-numbing. The only things breaking the monotony were the randomization algorithms that staggered their jump timings and scan-point variations. To add to the insult, their likelihood of detecting an inbound warship was miniscule. The most they could hope to achieve was to detect threats parked outside their patrol area, waiting for the right moment to attack. Given the Dusahn fleet’s current state, the odds of them sending anything other than jump missiles anywhere near the Darvano system were astronomically low.

  The only thing giving them purpose was the fact that they were creating a perceived threat to the Dusahn. As long as the Orochi were present, and as long as they were constantly on the move, their missiles could be launched against a Dusahn asset at any moment. This was especially important while the Aurora was still under repair. The Orochi might not be able to prevent the ongoing missile attacks, but they were certainly doing something to keep the Dusahn from sending in their only destroyer to finish her off.

  Having finished reviewing his morning reports, Aiden made his usual morning visit to the bridge before beginning what he called his ‘ship walk’. For lack of anything else to do, walking through the entirety of his ship allowed him to keep eyes on everything and to maintain contact with crew members, which his regular duties rarely provided.

  “Good morning, sir,” Lieutenant Deln greeted from his position at the Orochi’s helm.

  “Morning, Poray,” Aiden replied, coming to stand behind the man. He ceremoniously gazed out the forward windows, taking in the usual nondescript starfield that seemingly never changed, despite their constantly changing position. But it was part of the routine he was establishing for himself, and it would end with gazing out the tail gunner’s station.

  “Jump flash,” Ali reported from the sensor station. “Twenty clicks to starboard. Comm-drone.”

  “Are we at the comms exchange point?” Aiden asked his helmsman.

  “Negative, sir,” the lieutenant replied. “We’re still two jumps away from it.

  “Incoming message,” the comms officer announced. “Flash traffic from command.” The comms officer looked to her captain. “Strike orders, sir.”

  Aiden smiled. “This day is looking up.”

  “This sucks,” Sami complained as she watched the Nighthawks and Gunyoki jump away from the Aitkenna spaceport. We should be up there.”

  “We are all that’s protecting this base at the moment,” Commander Verbeek reminded her.

  “I know,” Sami assured him. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “I don’t much like it myself,” the commander agreed.

  “I hate to admit it, Verbee, but I liked flying the Nighthawks better.”

  “What?” the commander questioned, surprise.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m an Eagle driver through and through. I just wish we had more jump range so we could get into more fights.”

  “Careful what you wish for, Sami,” the commander warned, smiling.

  Samita looked at her commander, suspicious of his smile. “What are you smiling about?”

  The commander’s smile disappeared. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Bullshit,” she accused. “Spill.”

  “Captain Scott’s working on something,” the commander admitted. “Actually, he’s working on several things, but one of them will affect us…directly.”

  “Are we getting upgrades?” she asked.

  “Not exactly,” the commander replied. “I can’t really say much beyond that, as everything is still in the design stage. Let’s just say that I’ve had a bit of input.”

  “If you’re trying to get my mind off the depressing fact that we’re not joining in today’s strike…” Sami paused a moment, looking at her commanding officer. “…It’s working.”

  “New contact,” Kaylah announced from the Aurora’s sensor station. “Comm-drone.”

  “Incoming message,” Naralena followed. “Bird Dog is on station.”

  “All strike elements are in position,” the tactical officer reported.

  “Signal all elements,” Nathan instructed. “Execute as planned.”

  “Aye, sir,” Naralena replied as she prepared several jump comm-drones to carry the message.

  Nathan looked at Cameron. “It’s not easy standing by and watching others fly headlong into danger.”

  “Now you know how I feel every time you stick me in a command and control position,” Cameron replied.

  “It’s your own fault for being so good at telling everyone what to do,” Jessica teased.

  “We all have to play to our strengths,” Nathan stated. “Yours is organization and planning,” he told Cameron.

  “And keeping you two in line,” Cameron replied.

  “I’d say you pretty much suck at that,” Jessica decided. She looked at Nathan. “What’s my strength?”

  “You’re fearless. You charge into hell, fully expecting to kill the devil without suffering so much as a scratch.”

  “Some would call that a fault,” Cameron said.

  “If you don’t have the skills to back it up, sure,” Jessica agreed.

  “It’s your skills that make you so fearless,” Nathan insisted.

  “I’m pretty sure my brothers could tell you a few stories from my youth that would challenge that assumption,” Jessica told him.

  “I’ll be sure to ask them.”

  “What’s your strength?” Cameron asked Nathan.

  Nathan smiled. “My charm, what else?”

  “Transmission from command,” Talisha’s AI announced. “Execute strike as planned.”

  Talisha settled into the seat of her Nighthawk fighter, cinching her restraints down a bit more. “Okay, gentlemen, time to go to work,” she called over comms.

  “I’m afraid there are no gentlemen out here,” one of the other Nighthawk pilots corrected. “Just a bunch of Corinari.”

  “My mistake,” Talisha chuckled. “First group on me, second group on Kendrix. Ten second intervals, and remember, we’re just here to get their shields down. Once they’re down, get the hell out of the engagement area and back to Corinair.”

  “Why can’t they just use shield busters?” one of the Nighthawk pilots wondered.

  “Low on inventory, I suppose,” Talisha guessed. “They didn’t bother to tell me.”

  “We take the risk, and the missile boys get the glory,” another pilot said.

  “That’s why we’re Corinari.”

  “Ten seconds to strike zero,” Leta warned.

  Talisha glanced at her jump navigation computer display, checking that it had plotted her jump parameters. The first jump was crucial, as she needed to arrive just far enough away from the target to have time to decelerate to the proper shield penetration speed before the target detected their approach. “Here we go,” she said as she watched the jump clock count down to zero.

  “Coming up on launch point,” Ledge reported from the Orochi’s tactical station. “Fourteen on the rails and targeted, all of them set for manual jump.”

  “Any update on the target’s track?” Aiden asked his communications officer.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Launch on schedule,” Aiden instructed his XO.

  “One minute to launch,” Ledge updated.

  “As soon as the missiles are away, i
ncrease speed to keep up with them,” Aiden instructed his helmsman. I want to make sure we stay in comms range in case we have to update the targeting data at the last moment.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Deln acknowledged.

  “We only have a five-minute window to update,” Ledge reminded his captain. “Standing orders are to launch at zero plus seven, update or not.”

  “I know,” Aiden assured him. “I just want to make sure we keep our options open, that’s all.”

  “Ten seconds,” Ledge updated.

  As with every missile launch, Aiden felt the need to visualize their target. No one had told him to do so, it was just what he felt he needed to do. As a Cobra gunship captain, he saw what he was shooting at; who he was killing. But as a missile ship, he had lost that perspective. For some unexplainable reason, he felt the need to see his enemy, even if only in his mind’s eye.

  “Launching fourteen,” Ledge reported.

  Aiden looked out the forward windows of the Orochi’s small bridge as fourteen jump missiles streaked away from either side.

  “Missiles are away,” Ledge reported.

  “Accelerating,” the helmsman added, pushing the main engine throttles forward.

  Aiden glanced at the mission clock as the missiles began to converge in the distance ahead of them. The launch was right on time. “If you get a targeting update, don’t bother reporting it to me first,” he instructed his communications officer. “Just transfer it directly to tactical.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The jump flash subsided, and Talisha found her projection canopy filled with the image of the damaged Dusahn destroyer in orbit above Takara. There were no bolts of energy lashing out at her, just the two-kilometer-long warship surrounded by a dozen Takaran repair crawlers attempting to close the gaping wounds in her hull.

  “Target shield threshold in five seconds,” her AI warned.

  Talisha glanced at her flight dynamics display, checking that her speed was slow enough to pass through the target’s shields. Her cockpit filled with a brief flash of pale yellow light as her fighter slipped through the destroyer’s shields.

  “Rockets locked on shield emitters,” Leta reported.

  “Fire all rockets,” Talisha instructed her AI as she reached for her throttles. Flashes of orange lit up her projection canopy as twenty small, self-guided rockets streaked away from under her nose, twisting toward their targets as they left.

  “Rockets away,” Leta added.

  Talisha jammed her throttles forward, causing her ship to lurch ahead in rapid acceleration. A second later, the destroyer’s point-defense turrets opened fire, sending deadly bolts of plasma energy her way. Without a word, she pitched upward and to starboard, heading for the nearest shield barrier.

  The rockets found the destroyer’s nearest shield emitters, detonating on contact in a series of small explosions that disabled every emitter nearby.

  Talisha held her course, refraining from jumping out for as long as possible, hoping to draw the target’s point-defenses to her in order to buy the next Nighthawk to jump in a few extra seconds to launch their own attack before becoming the next target.

  Red-orange bolts of plasma slammed into her fighter’s port and aft shields, flashing them brightly and rocking her ship violently.

  “Port shields at sixty percent,” Leta warned.

  Talisha glanced at her tactical screen as the next Nighthawk jumped in nearby. A quick tap of the jump button on her flight control stick and she suddenly found herself several light minutes away, in clear and open space, with no enemy threats on her displays.

  The entire attack run felt like an eternity. Talisha glanced at her mission timer, noting that her attack run had taken precisely ten seconds, just as planned.

  “Signal from Bird Dog,” Delan reported from the Gunyoki fighter’s back seat. “Twenty octos just launched from the surface and are jumping up to the destroyer’s position.”

  “Tekka squadron, six points in pairs,” Jenna instructed over comms as she altered her ship’s course. “Don’t worry about killing them, just keep them off the Nighthawks.” Jenna checked the range to the destroyer on her tactical display, then dialed up the same on her jump range selector. “You ready, Dosne?” she asked over comms.

  “Dialed in,” Dosne replied.

  “Jump in three,” Jenna instructed, counting down the last two seconds in her head.

  Jenna pressed the jump button, transitioning her Gunyoki fighter from their staging point to high orbit above Takara, only ten kilometers from the damaged destroyer.

  “Four octos at three five, ten up relative, passing under the destroyer,” her weapons officer reported from the seat behind her.

  “I see them, Delan,” she replied, adjusting her course to intercept. “Dosne, take the two on the right.”

  “Got it!” her wingman replied.

  “Locking port rockets on the left octos,” Delan reported.

  “Eight clicks,” Jenna said to herself, checking the range to targets again.

  “They’ve spotted us,” Delan warned. “Turning to intercept.”

  “I’ll go right and split them,” Dosne suggested.

  “Going left,” Jenna replied, yanking her flight control stick to the left as she jammed her throttles to maximum. “Be ready on those rockets,” she warned her weapons officer as she adjusted her jump range down to four kilometers. She quickly yanked her throttles back to zero thrust, then twisted her flight control stick to the right to swing her nose around as she pressed the jump button.

  A flash of blue-white light and the Gunyoki fighter was four kilometers to port of its original intercept track, forcing the two left-most octos to adjust their course to starboard. She glanced at her tactical screen, noting that her wingman had performed the same maneuver, drawing the other two octos in the opposite direction, splitting the flight of four into two flights of two.

  Her nose came around to point at the left-most pair of octos, and Jenna twisted her flight control stick back to the left to stop her yawing motion. As planned, her nose was now pointed in the direction of the pair of octos attempting to intercept her. “Now would be good,” she told her weapons officer.

  “Firing port rockets!” Delan announced as he pressed the launch button.

  A plethora of small, self-guided rockets burst from the Gunyoki’s left rocket pod, after which the fighter disappeared in a flash of blue-white light, just as red-orange bolts of plasma energy lashed out from the Dusahn octos’ multiple turrets.

  The flurry of rockets launched by the Gunyoki fighter crossed the few kilometers to the targets in seconds, striking one of the octo’s shields and lighting them up as the other octo jumped to safety. The remaining octo rolled to turn, firing its engines, but was struck by energy weapons fire from a Gunyoki that suddenly appeared behind him.

  “Nicely done, Dosne!” Jenna congratulated, “but we’re not supposed to destroy them, just lead them away.”

  “Any reason why we can’t do both?” Dosne chuckled in reply.

  “I suppose not,” Jenna admitted as she started a sweeping turn back toward the engagement area. “I’m jumping back to you,” she told him. “Find us another target to tie up.”

  Talisha came out of her second attack jump, half a kilometer from where the Dusahn destroyer’s shield perimeter should have been. “What the…”

  A split second after her arrival, her shields flashed with the impacts of incoming fire, and her Nighthawk fighter shook violently.

  “The destroyer’s shield grid is no longer active,” her AI reported calmly.

  “How many emitters are down?” Talisha demanded

  “Eighty-two percent. The target is unprotected.”

  Talisha pulled back on her flight control stick and rolled to starboard, pushing her throttles all the way forward to accelerate toward a
clear jump line. “Razor Leader to all Razors! Signal Buster! Signal Buster!”

  “Jump line is clear,” her AI reported.

  Talisha tapped her jump button, jumping clear of the engagement area.

  “Razor Leader, Bird Dog,” Ensign Weston called over comms. “Copy signal Buster!”

  “Taking final target fix,” Ensign Weston reported. “Transferring data to comm-drone.”

  Something to the right caught Lieutenant Haddix’s eye. “Oh shit.”

  His copilot instinctively looked at the tactical display. “Four octos on an intercept course!”

  “I see them,” the lieutenant replied as he jammed the Reaper’s throttles all the way forward and started a hard turn to port.

  “They’re firing!”

  “I’ll worry about the octos!” the lieutenant insisted as their Reaper rocked from the incoming energy blasts against their shields. “You just be ready to launch that drone the moment I jump!”

  “It’ll be ready in five seconds!” the ensign assured him.

  Lieutenant Haddix pulled out of his port turn, rolling immediately in the opposite direction and pitching downward as he dialed up a new jump range.

  “Drone is ready!” Ensign Weston announced, arming the launch sequencer.

  “Jumping!” the lieutenant replied, pressing the jump button on his flight control stick.

  A split second later, their Reaper found itself in a different part of the Takaran system, a few light minutes away from their previous position.

  “Launching comm-drone!” the ensign announced.

  On the side of the Reaper’s utility bay, a long rectangular door popped open, and a mini-jump comm-drone quickly slid out, hanging from an extended track. The clamps on the track opened, and the drone fired its engine, accelerating away from the Reaper and turning toward its first jump point in the series that would take it to its final delivery point. A few seconds later, it disappeared behind a tiny, blue-white flash of light.