Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga) (12 page)

BOOK: Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga)
6.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub


I wouldn’t say
everything
is okay, but we’re fine.

“What do you mean? Why are you broadcasting on this frequency?”


We’re deep in a command bunker. Things are nuts down here. Riots everywhere,
” she told him.

“Yes, yes. I’ve been getting reports from Naralena in signals. Something about Loyalists clashing with Followers or something.”


Yeah, it’s complicated. Listen, did the shuttle make it back okay?

“Sort of. Please, tell Nathan not to let Marcus fly anything. He does not know what he is doing.”


Sorry, that was my idea.

One of the junior engineers stepped up beside Vladimir, a look of concern on his face. “Excuse me, sir.”

“One moment, Jessica.” Vladimir turned to his subordinate, irritation on his face. “What is it, Mister Musavi?”

“Sir, we keep having problems with the containment systems on reactor one. It’s flirting with the red line, sir. If it crosses the line—”

“Yes, I know, this entire system will be erased from existence,” Vladimir finished for him, somewhat overdramatically. “The magnetic field emitters will need to be re-calibrated,” Vladimir told him.

“Yes sir, I know. But it’s the only reactor still running. The other three are still offline while repairs are being made to their distribution systems.”

“Then we will run on the reserve fusion reactor.”

“But we’ll be without main propulsion, sir. We wouldn’t even be able to break orbit, let alone operate the jump drive.”

“But we will not disappear from existence. And it will only be for an hour, two at the most. It must be done, yes? Better to get it done now. Go!”

“Yes sir.”

“I am sorry, Jessica,” he said, returning his attention to the comm-set.


Everything okay up there?

“No, nothing works, as usual. Every time I get things working, Nathan manages to find someone else to shoot at us. I think I deserve a raise… maybe a promotion as well.”


Vlad, listen, I have a relay from Aurora Actual. Message reads: Vehicle from your college days will arrive within Romeo zero six mikes. Tango X-Ray, X-Ray Oscar, to surface for Romeo X-Ray by friendlies. Do you copy?”

“Wait one,” Vladimir told her as he scrambled to figure out the message. After a moment, it all began to make sense to him. “Ah, Da da da.” Vladimir keyed his mike to transmit again. “Message from Actual understood, standing by for Tango X-Ray, Romeo zero six mikes.” He turned to Deliza, “Finally, some good news for once.”

Deliza looked confused, not understanding half of what she had heard.


We’ll try to check back in later.”
Jessica said over the comms,
“but I can’t promise when. Just be ready to pick us up when we call for a ride.

“Understood,” Vladimir said, tapping his comm-set once again to close the channel.

“What was all that about?” Deliza asked.

“It was code,” Vladimir said. “Our captain can be very clever at times,” he added with a chuckle. “The Corinairans have agreed to send a medevac shuttle to transport Commander Taylor to a hospital on the surface for treatment. They will be here in less than one hour.”

“That’s the message you got from all that Romeo, Mike, X-ray stuff?”

“Of course.”

Deliza shook her head. “People from Earth are weird.”

 

* * *

Jessica removed the communications headset that the Corinairan comm-tech had given her to use and handed it back to the operator, thanking him. She had never heard Vladimir so frazzled, so stressed out. Of all the people on the crew, he was one of the steadiest she knew. Excitable, yes, but reliable and consistent as well. Perhaps he was starting to feel the pressure of all their struggles over the last week. It was understandable, and he wouldn’t be the first crewman to come down with Post Incident Stress Disorder, P.I.S.D., or as they had liked to refer to it, ‘pissed’.

Vladimir would be the last person Jessica would expect to affected. She had seen signs of it on Nathan since day one but he had managed to control it. He had a few outbursts, but then was fine. It was evident in Cameron as well, and she suspected that it was what fueled her desire to turn tail and head home as quickly as possible, leapfrogging it all the way back to Sol.

It happened to everyone, sooner or later. It would probably happen to her as well. They all needed a break, some kind of relief. If they had to go much longer without one, their combat effectiveness, or what little was left of it, was going to disappear rapidly.

Jessica stood from her seat next to the Corinairan comm operator, turning to her escorts. “That should do it, boys,” she announced with a smile. “You can take me back to my room now.”

As she followed them back down the long corridor, she could see through the windows into the various control rooms. There were always many monitors on the walls, each displaying critical information as well as video feeds from strategic locations throughout the city. She tried as best she could to gather some visual intelligence on the way back, but everything she could see was written in the Corinairan language, which was unreadable to her. From what she did see, she could discern one thing for sure. The planet was in turmoil.

 

* * *

The staging and gear-up room at the secret Ta’Akar Anti-Insurgency Operations Complex in Aitkenna was bustling with activity. Captain de Winter and the twelve members of his recently freed command staff had donned the uniforms of the local Corinairan military, and were being issued weapons by the facility’s weapons master.

“These uniforms are rather unimpressive,” Captain de Winter commented to his executive officer as he sealed up the torso of his flat black jumpsuit.

“Yes, black and gray,” Commander Rishwain said. “Such an imaginative color scheme.” He eyed the emblem on the shoulder patch attached to the captain’s shoulder. “Even their coat of arms is uninteresting,” he added as he picked up the black torso armor from the floor next to him. “And is this what they use for body armor?”

Captain de Winter snickered at the sight of the simplistic vest. It also was flat black, just like their uniforms, and was composed of multiple hard panels attached to a cloth web designed to hold it all together when worn over the shoulders and torso. It was nothing like the hard, polished body armor the Ta’Akar assault forces commonly used. Even their lowest level ground forces were more stylishly adorned than the simple military of this world. “Are the officers expected to wear such garments as well?” he asked, noticing his XO’s hesitation to put on the cumbersome armor.

“You are if you want to live,” a familiar voice called from behind.

Captain de Winter turned around to find Andre, the leader of the team that had freed him and his command staff from captivity an hour earlier. The sight of the brash young sergeant immediately brought a cross look to the captain’s face as he realized the implications of the man’s presence. He too was fully outfitted in Corinairan military garb and was armed and ready for deployment. He only hoped that the young agent was assigned to one of the teams about to infiltrate the Corinairan surface-to-orbit missile bases and not their team going up to board and capture the Aurora. “Sergeant,” the captain began, “I don’t think I ever got your family name,” he added in a tone meant to intimidate.

“Tukalov, sir,” the sergeant answered without hesitation. “And I’d strongly advise you to wear your body armor. Unless, of course, you prefer to be an easy target. In which case, feel free to leave it behind.”

“Do they even work?” Commander Rishwain asked with disdain. “They don’t appear to be reflective at all.”

“They aren’t,” the sergeant explained as he made his way past them. “They’re primarily dissipative—unlike Takaran armor, which reflects incoming energy bolts in countless unanticipated directions. This design doesn’t end up inadvertently killing the man next to you via reflected blasts. The Corinari may not be
fashionable
,” he added sarcastically, “but they know how to fight.” The sergeant continued pushing his way past them without stopping to even look them in the eyes. “You’d be well served to remember that.”

Captain de Winter watched with no small degree of irritation as the sergeant exited through the doorway on the far side of the room.

“Friend of yours?” the commander wondered aloud.

“Just another arrogant commoner who has been away from his homeworld for too long,” the captain proclaimed as he donned his body armor. “I fear he has forgotten his place within the very society he defends.”

“Then I trust you’ll set him straight,” his executive officer said.

“In due time, commander. But for now, we have more pressing matters of which to attend.”

 

Andre stepped out onto the flight deck atop the command center and made his way toward the five men assembled near the first of three Kalibri airships. The men were exchanging jokes as they checked one another’s gear, their spirits high as they anticipated the coming mission. It was a chaotic time, with death and destruction all around them, but it was for this that they had spent years in training.

As he approached, Andre was surprised, but not altogether unpleased, to see his friend standing amongst the men. As usual, a broad smile was painted across his face. “You are not a member of this team, Bobby.”

“Neither are you,” Bobby argued.

“True enough.”

“Besides, I didn’t want you to get lonely.”

“More likely you heard of my mission and wanted to be in on the fun,” Andre said as he began to check Bobby’s gear.

“I’ve already had one ground assault today. I need some variety to keep things interesting,” he said. Bobby checked Andre’s gear in turn. “You know how easily I become bored.”

“The sign of a truly unimaginative mind,” Andre retorted.

“We can’t all be as creative as you, now can we, Sarge?”

“You left out handsome,” Andre bragged.

“Is it true?” Bobby asked, after pulling Andre aside from the others. “Are we going to retake the Yamaro?”

“Something like that.”

Andre held up his right hand and spun it around in a tight circle, signaling the three small airships to spin up their engines in preparation for departure. He then turned back to his friend. “You stay sharp, Bobby. This one will be much more challenging,” he warned as he turned his head and saw Captain de Winter and his command staff coming up the stairs onto the flight deck, “especially with those fools in tow.”

Bobby looked over Andre’s shoulder at de Winter and his men, all decked out in standard black Corinairan battle dress, just as they were sporting similar armaments. “You’re not serious! But they’re a bunch of aristocratic puff ’n fluffs! They’ll probably just end up shooting themselves in the foot the first time they draw their weapons.”

“As long as they don’t shoot
me
in the foot,” Andre said. He had no more love or respect for nobles than anyone else in the division, including their esteemed commander.

Bobby rolled his head in dismay. “Is it too late to change my mind?”

“Our team and the good captain will ride the lead ship,” Andre ordered, ignoring Bobby’s question. “The rest get loaded in the other two. Get them mounted up, Corporal,” he ordered as he turned and headed toward captain de Winter and his staff.

“Well, at least it won’t be boring,” Bobby admitted as he fell in behind Andre.

A feeling of satisfaction washed through Andre, although he did not reveal the fact to anyone. He could see the look of disappointment on the captain’s face as he drew near. He was obviously not happy at the idea of having to work with him again, and that made Andre feel like he was doing something right. “Captain de Winter,” he began with authority. The sound of the three airships engines required that he now yell in order to be heard. “Your men will ride in the second and third birds, exactly two minutes behind us. We’ll take control of the medical shuttle through swift and decisive action. Your men will arrive immediately after we have secured the ship.”

“Just a minute, Sergeant—”

The sergeant ignored the captain’s attempt to get control of the conversation. Time was short, and he wasn’t about to waste it in debate. “If you’re about to try and take command of this operation, sir, you’re wasting your time.” Andre stared him dead in the eyes and did not blink, did not flinch, for what seemed an eternity. He moved a step closer to the captain before continuing. “Those men, Captain, the ones about to board an enemy ship in woefully insufficient numbers, are killers. With guns, knives, or hands, make no mistake; these men know how to kill and have no problem doing so. Can you say the same about your officers?”

Andre stood motionless, continuing to stare as the captain glanced over at his officers. He could see the doubt in the captain’s eyes, and he knew his answer.

“And where will I be riding?” the captain asked, deciding not to press the issue.

“With us, in the lead bird, sir,” he answered. As much as he didn’t like it, technically the captain was in command of this mission, and as such needed to be in the lead airship.

The captain looked to his executive officer, Commander Rishwain. The commander immediately got the hint and ordered his men to follow the sergeant’s subordinate to the waiting airships. The captain returned his gaze to the sergeant once more. “Just one question, Sergeant. Why you?”

“Because those are my orders, sir.”

“And you always follow orders, like a good little soldier?”

Andre knew the captain was merely trying to lead him into a trap in order to force the issue of command. He knew that he was far more qualified to run the operation than either to captain or any of his officers, but he also fully expected the captain to try and exert some level of control over the mission itself. Andre wasn’t about to let himself or his men get killed due to the arrogance of a noble. “No sir, not always. But this time, I think the mission’s purpose is an important one.”

Andre continued to stare at the captain, refusing to yield to what he considered an ‘inferior officer’, as the expression was commonly used. “Now are you going to board that airship, or am I going to have to leave you behind, sir?”

Other books

Fantasmas del pasado by Nicholas Sparks
Shorts: The Furry Years by John Van Stry
Solar Storm by Carter, Mina
Just a Little Crush (Crush #1) by Renita Pizzitola
The Matchmaker by Kay Hooper
Unnatural Acts by Stuart Woods
When the Chips Are Down by Rasico, Anne
Flash Gold by Buroker, Lindsay
Face in the Frame by Heather Atkinson
Nubes de kétchup by Annabel Pitcher