Ep.#15 - "That Which Other Men Cannot Do" (The Frontiers Saga) (29 page)

“Our bow shields are down to twenty percent!” Commander Ellison warned. “We can’t take much more of this!”

“Jobu! Translate hard to port! Full thrust!” Captain Roselle ordered. “Give me a one-click snap jump!”

“Translating to port, full thrust…”

“One-click snap jump…in five…”

“Kessel, cease fire!”

“Four…”

“Holding fire on the mark fives,” the tactical officer answered.

“Three…”

“Eighteen percent and falling!”

“Stand by to pitch down and starboard, hard as you can!”

“Two…”

“Stand by to fire all mark fives, full power!”

“One…”

“And don’t stop!” the captain added.

“Jumping!”

“Down and starboard! Now! Now! Now!” Captain Roselle ordered.

“Jump complete!”

“Pitching down and starboard hard as I can,” the helmsman replied.

“Holy crap!” Ensign Marka exclaimed with excitement. “We’ve got a clear firing line! No shields between us and the target!”

“How long, Jobu?” Captain Roselle asked his helmsman.

“Fifteen seconds, sir.”

“The platform has dropped their last shield. They’re powering up the shields between us and them, Captain!” the sensor officer warned.

“How long?”

“Unknown!” Ensign Marka replied. “I’m reading massive power transfers from all over the ship!”

“They’re bring their guns around,” Commander Ellison warned. “They’re reacquiring.”

“Missile launches!” Ensign Marka warned. “Number five arm! Directly ahead! Impacts in twenty seconds!”

“We don’t have enough guns forward to stop those missiles, Gil!” Commander Ellison warned.

Captain Roselle stood motionless, waiting for the last few seconds of his plan to unfold.

“Firing solution in three…”

“Fire all tubes…”

“Two…”

“Fifteen seconds to impact!”

“One…”

“Incoming rail gun fire!” Commander Ellison warned.

“Firing all tubes!” the tactical officer announced.

“Target’s raising shields!” the sensor officer reported. “Ten seconds to missile impact!”

“We can’t reach them!” Sergeant Garza realized in a panicked voice.

“Stand by with another five-hundred-meter snap jump,” Roselle ordered.

“Firing again!”

“DIRECT HITS!” Ensign Marka exclaimed triumphantly.

“Cease fire!” Captain Roselle ordered. “Snap jump!”

“Ceasing fire…”

“Snap jump, aye…”

“Keep pitching down and starboard to keep our tubes on her, Jobu,” Roselle instructed.

“Jump complete,” Ensign Noray reported.

“I’m on it,” the helmsman assured his captain.

“They missed!” Ensign Marka exclaimed. “The missiles slid right under us!”

“I have another firing solution,” Lieutenant Commander Kessel reported. “Firing all tubes!”

“Number five arm is heavily damaged!” Ensign Marka announced. “The core has taken several direct hits as well!”

“Keep firing!” Roselle instructed.

Massive, red-orange balls of plasma leapt from the underside of the Jar-Benakh’s bow, streaking toward the Jung battle platform, and slamming into her core structures. Within the platform, secondary explosions sent debris spewing out in all directions. Rail guns stopped firing. Missile launchers stopped launching. More importantly, there were no shields active.

“She’s lost main power!” Ensign Marka reported. “No shields anywhere!”

“Can she still fire?” Roselle asked.

“No, sir! She’s dead in space! She is launching every gunship and every shuttle she’s still got inside!”

“Lieutenant Sahbu. Circling course from five clicks out. Keep our starboard broadside cannons on her,” Captain Roselle instructed. “Sergeant Shugart, pound her with everything you’ve got. Sergeant Garza, keep our far side protected, in case any of those fleeing gunships try to be heroes for their stinkin’ empire.” Captain Roselle stood tall, breathing in deep, savoring his victory. “Gentlemen, let’s finish this bitch off for good, shall we?”

“Incoming transmission from the surface,” Naralena reported from the Aurora’s comm station.

“Is it Jung?” Nathan asked.

“No, sir. I believe it’s civilian.”

“Put it up.”

“They’re sending video as well, sir.”

“Fine. Put it on the main view screen.”

The screen switched images, revealing an adult male, in his forties, with perfect features. Standing behind him and to his left were two more men who looked exactly like him. Behind and to his right were three women, each of whom appeared to be exact replicas of one another.

“What the hell?” Jessica exclaimed.

“This is Captain Nathan Scott, of the Alliance ship, Aurora,” Nathan greeted. “To whom am I speaking?”

“
I am Emel number twelve-twenty, seventy-five, Chief of Security for Nifelm
,” the man replied quickly, as if panicked.

“I take it you received our…”

“
Yes, yes,
” the man replied, interrupting the captain. “
We received your message, Captain. Please, attack without haste, I beg of you!
”

“Sir, you do understand, that attacking the Jung assets on your world will result in significant collateral…”

“
We are aware,
” the man replied impatiently. “
We can rebuild. Please…
”

“Lives will be lost,” Nathan warned. He turned to Jessica.

“Thousands, at least,” she clarified.

“Thousands, possibly tens of thousands,” Nathan said to the man on the view screen.

“
Physical bodies can be replaced,
” the man insisted. “
Souls can be transferred. Please, Captain. The Jung are already entering our cities in an attempt to evade destruction. If you do not attack now, the destruction will be much worse, believe me. I’m begging you, Captain. Destroy the Jung bases, immediately!
”

“Very well,” Nathan replied. “Tell your people to take cover. We will attack in five…”

“
You must attack now!
” Emel begged. “
Please! You must trust me!
”

Nathan took a deep breath. “As you wish.” He turned to Naralena, signaling for her to end the link. “Fire when ready, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Yes, sir,” Jessica replied.

“Miss Avakian, relay the order to begin immediate bombardment of all Jung surface assets to the Celestia.”

“Yes, sir,” Naralena replied.

“Weapons locked on first target,” Jessica announced. “Initiating firing sequence.” She pressed the firing button, then looked at Nathan. “Clones?”

“I’m guessing, yes,” Nathan replied.

“That would explain why the admiral didn’t seem concerned with the Jung trying to hide among the locals.”

“Yes, it would.”

“Captain,” Mister Navashee interrupted. “I’m picking up energy spikes, explosions, and a lot of radiation from the battle platform’s last position.”

“What about the Jar-Benakh?” Nathan wondered.

“She’s still there, sir.”

Nathan smiled. “Nice to have a battleship on our side again.”

“Sure as hell is,” Jessica agreed. “First target destroyed. Second target will be in range in fifteen seconds.”

“Comms, dispatch a jump comm-drone to Sol,” Nathan instructed. “Let Commander Telles know that he will be cleared to begin cleanup of Nifelm within the hour.”

* * *

Every afternoon, Captain Dubnyk had gotten into the habit of taking his afternoon tea and
pabva
cakes in the gazebo at the far corner of his back garden. Built by one of his students in exchange for teachings, it was just big enough for two or three people. However, today, as was the case on most days, he took his tea alone.

It was a ritual he quite enjoyed, actually, as it gave him time to reflect on the teachings of the morning while his midday meal settled. The process left him energized, and ready for the afternoon lessons.

Fayla stepped out of the kitchen door and down the steps into the back garden, weaving her way through the vegetable garden to join her employer. “How was your tea?” she asked as she approached.

“Lovely, as usual, my dear,” the captain replied. “In fact, I could be convinced to partake in a second cup, if a lovely young lady were to insist.”

Fayla smiled as she bent over to pick up the captain’s empty cup and saucer. She spied the empty plate that had contained two
pabva
cakes. “Your appetite improves,” she said, relieved. “You rarely ask for a second cup, let alone finish both cakes.”

“I believe the treatments are working,” Captain Dubnyk told her, “much to my surprise, I must admit.”

“I told you,” Fayla said as she sat across from him. “Do not question the healing powers of Tannan herbs and teas. Without them, our people would not have survived the dark ages that followed the great plague.”

“How did you know of such things?” he asked. “You are far too young to know anything of the dark ages.”

“Stories handed down by the elder women of my tribe,” she explained.

“Ah, yes, the tribes of Tanna.”

“I know you must find the notion of tribes somewhat antiquated in this day and age. But to many, our past is more of who we are than our present.”

“On the contrary, tribes were quite common after the plague,” the captain said. “It was the only way to survive. Strength in numbers, and all that. They existed on Earth, as well as many of the core worlds that I visited before fleeing the sector.”

She scrutinized him closely, looking into the whites of his eyes, and examining the color and texture of the wrinkled skin on his face. “You do look better,” she admitted. “Your eyes are much clearer, and your skin color has improved.” She grinned. “You may even have fewer wrinkles than before.”

“One can dream,” the old captain replied.

“Another cup, then,” she said, rising from her seat. “And maybe another
pabva
cake as well?”

“Yes, I think,” he replied, smiling.

She bent over and placed his teacup and saucer on top of the empty
pabva
plate. She stood up straight again and turned back toward the house. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, reaching into her apron pocket. “Brill’s younger brother, Tylor, delivered this for you a few minutes ago,” she said as she handed the captain a small envelope.

“Will you?” he asked. “My fingers are still not what they once were.”

Fayla carefully opened the elaborately folded envelope until it was no longer an envelope, but a note. She attempted to hand it to him again.

“Nor are my eyes, I’m afraid,” the captain said.

“It is from Brill. He has been accepted into the Alliance Marines. He leaves this evening for Earth.”

“How wonderful for young Mister Daymon,” Captain Dubnyk said happily.

Fayla looked at the old man, a puzzled look on her face. “I thought you did not approve of the Alliance?”

“I neither approve nor disapprove of them,” he explained. “I am, however, happy for Brill. He will learn much, see much. And someday, he will return and share what he has learned with all of us. He will add his knowledge and experiences to our own, and we shall all be the richer for it.”

“If he survives,” Fayla reminded him. “There is a war being fought, do not forget.”

“Of course, of course,” Captain Dubnyk agreed. “We shall send him our positive thoughts.”

Fayla handed the paper to her employer and departed.

Captain Dubnyk folded the paper in half, then half again, and then held it in the candle’s flame. The paper quickly caught fire, and he held it in front of him for as long as he could. Finally, he set it next to the candle and allowed it to burn into ashes, which were carried away by the afternoon breeze.

He smiled at his good fortune.

* * *

“He
is
always ragging on me,” Josh complained as they walked across what had once been the Aurora’s main cargo bay, and was now her main hangar deck.

“It just seems that way because you avoid talking to him,” Loki insisted.

“Because he’s always ragging on me.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always breaking procedure…”

“I wouldn’t always be breaking procedure, if so many of the procedures weren’t stupid.”

“Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean they are stupid, Josh.”

“Yeah, it pretty much does, Lok,” Josh argued, “at least in my eyes, it does.”

“You’d make a terrible transport pilot.”

“Please, those guys aren’t even pilots,” Josh scoffed, stopping to watch the final converted Super Falcon pull off the elevator pad and roll toward its parking spot in one of the starboard alcoves. “All they do is push buttons all day. Auto-flight take me here, auto-flight take me there. Oh, and don’t forget the seatbelt sign. That’s a tricky one.”

Loki tuned his partner out, as usual, instead choosing to watch the crew of the eighth and final Super Falcon open their side canopy windows and climb out of their ship and down to the deck. “Come on,” he told his friend as he headed toward the Super Falcon.

Loki walked up to the Super Falcon crew. “Hi, I’m Loki Sheehan,” he greeted offering his hand. “This is my partner, Josh Hayes.”

“Dorrel Lasan,” the first man replied, shaking Loki’s hand. “This is Gannon Parkin.”

“A pleasure,” the second man greeted in a thick brogue.

“You’re Corinairan?” Josh asked.

“What gave it away?” Gannon asked with a smile. “Me dashin’ good looks, was it?”

“Something like that,” Josh replied, shaking the man’s hand.

“You’re not Corinairan,” Loki said to the first man.

“Palean,” he replied.

“Really?” Loki said, shocked. “I think you’re the first Palean we’ve had on board.”

“No, there’s a guy in environmental… Yarik something,” Josh said.

“Are you two our welcoming committee, then?” Gannon wondered.

“Flight ops asked us to show you guys around, help you find your quarters, the mess…you know. All the important stuff.”

“Shouldn’t we check in first?” Dorrel asked.

“CAG’s in a meeting right now. He said to have you report to his office after dinner.”

Gannon looked sidelong at Loki, eyeing him suspiciously. “You wouldn’t be trying to pull a fast one on us, now would ya? Trying to get us in the dutch with the boss on our first day?”