Ep.#1 - "Escalation" (The Frontiers Saga: Rogue Castes) (25 page)

“I’m picking up something,” Lieutenant Commander Kono announced tentatively. “Red-shifted…”

Cameron turned her head toward the lieutenant commander in anticipation.

“Gamma radiation… Same course and speed…” She turned toward Cameron. “That’s gotta be a Jung ship in FTL, Captain.”

“Position relative?”

“About three light minutes ahead of us, Captain,” the lieutenant commander replied, studying her sensor readings again. “Four light minutes to port, and two down relative. However, it may be more than one trail. The trace keeps changing shape. It may be multiple targets flying in close FTL formation.”

Cameron took a deep breath and sighed. “Mister Bickle,” she began as she turned forward again. “Plot an intercept course and prepare a jump. I want to put us no more than one thousand kilometers astern and to the side of that contact. I want a good solid reading before we put the entire Earth on alert.”

“Yes, sir,” the young ensign replied.

“Captain?” Lieutenant Commander Kono began, turning back around to face Cameron. “How did you know?”

“If you
want
someone to see you, you stand right where you’d expect them to look,” Cameron replied.

* * *

The Seiiki’s damaged cargo ramp smacked the ground harder than usual,
kicking up a cloud of dust.

“I’ll check the ramp hydraulics,” Dalen promised the captain.

“Good idea.” Captain Tuplo and his crew stood at the top of the cargo ramp, waiting for the dust to settle. “Josh, you know where the bunkhouse is, so you and Neli go and check it out. See what kind of shape it’s in.”

“Why?” Neli wondered. “It’s not like we’re gonna sleep there. We do have cabins onboard.”

“Humor me, Neli,” the captain asked, not wanting to explain his reasoning.

“I can check it out by myself, Cap’n.”

“I’d like Neli’s opinion on it as well, if you don’t mind. After all, if
she
thinks it can be made livable, then I don’t have to worry about the rest of you whining if we end up having to shack up there to save power and water.”

Josh sighed, then headed down the cargo ramp.

“I wasn’t whining,” Neli mumbled as she followed Josh down the ramp.

“Want me to start on those hydraulics?” Dalen suggested, starting down the ramp.

“That can wait,” the captain replied. “I want you to take a look around that wreckage, Dalen. See if there’s anything we might be able to salvage for use, or maybe even for resale.”

“But it’s probably been sitting there for ten years, Cap’n. It’s all rusted and shit.”

Captain Tuplo turned and looked at Dalen, a scowl on his face. “Why are you arguing with me? Are you under the mistaken impression that I’m having a good day? That I’m in a jovial, forgiving-type of mood, or something?”

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” Dalen replied, throwing his hands up in defensive resignation.

“Thank you.” Captain Tuplo took a deep breath and sighed. He turned and looked at Marcus. “Why are you just standing there, Taggart?”

“You ain’t given me nothin’ to do yet.”

“Oh, yeah,” the captain realized. “You search the buildings along that side, I’ll search the ones along this side.”

Marcus nodded, but didn’t move down the ramp.

“You got something on your mind?” the captain asked.

“We goin’ into the salvage business?”

“If that’s what it takes to fill our tanks, then, yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, sir,” Marcus replied quickly, as he headed down the ramp.

Captain Tuplo paused a moment, then started down the ramp himself. At the bottom of the ramp, he stopped and looked around. “Jesus, she’s right,” he sighed. “It does look like a war was fought here.”

* * *

“Industry brings jobs; jobs create revenue; revenue grows the economy…”

It was the same thing the
president’s economic advisor had been spouting day in and day out, ever since he took office three years ago.

“We still have two million people living in camps…”

Mister Tankersly’s tune hadn’t improved much either, the only thing that changed was the number of millions he quoted as still being stuck in the camps.

“And jobs will get them out of the camps…”

Just once, he wanted to get these two in a room and have them discuss something without arguing.

“It hasn’t in seven years…”

“Mister Tankersly,” the president said wearily, tiring of their bickering, “you know as well as the rest of us that the number of people still living in the refugee camps has dropped significantly in recent years. And you also know that it happened
because
jobs were created, and those people in the camps were able to rejoin mainstream society.”

“Jobs also bring pride, self-respect…”

“I’m not arguing against jobs, Mister President. I’m arguing against the percentage of our fabricators that are being tasked with helping to rebuild private industry,
instead
of building
more
public housing that would
not
require a job in order for a family to move into them.”

“And continue to perpetuate a nanny state? How does that help us get back on our feet?” the president’s economic advisor challenged.

“We already are! Don’t you get it? We have to stop
helping
big industry get established. They already are! And they have employee shortages because we’ve helped them create technical positions without creating the training infrastructure to provide them with skilled technical labor.”

“By that logic, we should start building more training institutions, not housing.”

“And how well do you think someone learns when they’re living in a tent, sharing restrooms with hundreds, and standing in line for hours to be fed?” Mister Tankersly turned to the president, pleading. “Mister President, please, we
must
provide better housing,
and
provide more job training for those people still trapped in the refugee camps. You
must
allocate a greater percentage of our fabrication infrastructure to
those
projects, and less to helping big industry.”

“The idea has always been to rebuild our defensive capabilities first,” President Scott reminded Mister Tankersly. “Doing that required rebuilding our industrial capacity, which the Jung bombed into the Stone Age eight years ago. We all knew it would be a challenge, and we all knew that it would mean that many of our citizens would be spending years in the camps.”

“Mister President…”

The president held up his hand, cutting Mister Tankersly off before he got carried away again. “However, perhaps eight years is enough. I’m not saying I’m willing to start building free houses and giving them away, as that would only serve to suppress the economic growth that we’ve all sacrificed so much to help grow. I
will,
however, suggest to the GFC that we refocus our global fabrication efforts to favor the improvement of living conditions in the camps, as well as getting them trained to fill those skilled positions you claim are vacant, Mister Tankersly. However, I warn you, the GFC is unlikely to commit the percentages
you
are recommending.”

On the other side of the room, a red light began flashing beneath the large view screen on the wall opposite the president’s desk. It was accompanied by an alert tone that demanded attention. Within seconds, the president’s daughter and personal aide, Miri, and the president’s security advisor both entered the room abruptly.

“Mister President,” his security advisor began, dispensing with any of the customary pleasantries. “We’ll need to clear the room.”

“Gentlemen,” the president said, standing and heading toward his desk. “If you’ll excuse us.”

The president continued to his desk as his guests departed. He took his seat behind it, and waited as his security advisor and his daughter came to stand behind and on either side of him. Once the door had closed, the view screen came to life, revealing Admiral Galiardi, sitting at his station in the Alliance Command Center deep inside Port Terra, in orbit high above the Earth.

“Admiral,” the president greeted. He knew that the nature of the admiral’s call did not require the usual pleasantries.

“
Mister President. The Aurora has detected a Jung battle group less than one light year beyond Sol’s heliopause.
”

“How many ships are we talking about?”

“
Based on the number and size of their FTL trails, we estimate eight ships. Possibly two battleships or heavy cruisers, at least two light cruisers, with the rest being frigates, or large gunships. It is difficult to get exact readings, as they are flying in surprisingly tight formations, especially considering they are traveling at FTL speeds. We believe they are doing so to conceal their numbers. The Aurora had to jump close-in behind them to differentiate and confirm multiple targets.
”

“Any theories as to how they have managed to get so deep into Alliance space
without
being detected?” the president asked accusingly, hinting at his displeasure.

“
There are only two logical explanations,
” the admiral said. “
Either the Jung have developed some new type of stealth technology, or they have jump drives.
”

“Any evidence to support one or the other?” the president asked.

“
Frankly, Mister President, at this juncture, it is immaterial. Our priority at this point is to prevent this group from getting within striking distance of Earth which, if they are still using linear FTL, will be in approximately nineteen days.
”

“Recommendations?”

“
First, we should put all our surface JKKV launchers on full alert. If they can get within a light year of us without being detected, they could already have ships in closer. Second, we need to move the Jar-Benakh and the Tanna to Sol. We need to send them, along with the Cape Town and the Aurora, to intercept the approaching battle group.
”

“That will leave Tau Ceti unprotected,” the president pointed out.

“
Both ships can jump back to Tau Ceti at a moment’s notice,
” the admiral replied.

“Nevertheless, the Cetians will not like it.”

“
They’ll like it a lot less if Alliance Command, and possibly Earth itself, are destroyed, because it’s a pretty safe bet that if the Jung destroy us, Tau Ceti is next.
”

“And your intentions upon intercept?” the president inquired, already knowing the answer.

“
Destroy them, sir. Without warning or mercy, after which I would recommend we launch a full KKV strike against all primary Jung worlds, including Nor-Patri.
”

“Muted,” the president’s security advisor said, as he pressed the remote. “Mister President, I agree that we should stop the incoming battle group. However, completely destroying them is not only unnecessary, but also sends a dangerous message to the Jung…as does a full KKV strike against their homeworld.”

“The message it sends, is that we will not tolerate such blatant trespasses into our territories,” the president replied with determination.

“Couldn’t we send a warning message, first?” Miri suggested. “Cross this line, and all hell will break loose?”

“We already did, and they already crossed it,” the president replied.

“Warning the battle group before firing on them will cause our ships to lose the element of surprise,” the president’s security advisor warned. “You’ll be putting three of our biggest assets at unnecessary additional risk.”

“Additional, maybe, but hardly unnecessary,” Miri argued.

“At the very least, I would strongly advise
against
the KKV strike, sir. Especially against their homeworld. I don’t have to remind you what happened the last time we did so.”

President Scott shot a disdainful look at his advisor. “No, you do not.”

“It is unlikely that this is a full strike on our system. If it were, they would be sending dozens of ships, including battle platforms.”

“Then you still believe the Jung are testing us? Our detection capabilities? Our response patterns?”

“It’s the only logical explanation.”

“Logical? We have dozens of jump-enabled, kinetic kill vehicles, each of them capable of destroying an entire world, pointed at their worlds, and you think
testing
us is a logical act?” Miri couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How many ships have the Jung lost doing such testing? Do you really believe they would sacrifice so many men, just to
test
us?”

“Yes, I do,” the president’s security advisor replied without hesitation, and with complete conviction.

“Unmute,” the president ordered. “Sorry for the delay, Admiral. Put our forces on alert. Move whatever ships you need into position. I will deal with the Cetians. However, I am
not
ready to authorize any KKV strikes at this time… Not yet. Also, I require that our forces warn the Jung battle group that if they do not stand down and surrender, not only will they be destroyed, we will also launch a full KKV strike on Nor-Patri, and the rest of the Jung primary worlds. Is that understood, Admiral?”

“
Mister President,
” the admiral began to object.

“Those are my orders, Admiral. Update me with any changes.” The president nodded at his security advisor, who ended the call.

“That man is determined to get us back into a full-blown shooting war,” the president’s security advisor said.

“When you’re a hammer, Mister Lovecchio,” the president sighed.

* * *

Admiral Galiardi ripped off his comm-set and tossed it onto the table in frustration.

“He does realize the amount of risk he is ask
ing those ships to take, doesn’t he?” Commander Macklay wondered.

“He does,” the admiral replied bitterly, his frustration obvious in his voice. “And if he doesn’t, Lovecchio damn sure does.” The admiral sighed. “I swear, that man is going to get us all killed. At the very least, he’s going to cost us a few ships, ships that we can ill afford to lose.”