Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga) (18 page)

“Understood. Is there someone there to escort them?”

“
Yes sir. One of Doctor Sorenson’s team is meeting them.
”

“Why not some of our crew?”

“
Our people are all busy with repairs, sir.
”

Vladimir nodded his head as he rolled his eyes. He had ordered everyone to help in repairs where ever possible. Of course, at the time he had not anticipated guests. “Pull the nearest person, preferably two, and have them report to the hangar bay immediately. And make sure they are armed.”

“
Yes sir.
”

“I will join them in medical as soon as possible.”

“
Yes sir.
”

“Unbelievable. You would think they were friends coming over for dinner. Now, where were we?” Vladimir asked, his mind a bit cloudy from fatigue. “Ah, yes. Rerouting the command and control signals. You just have to reprogram routing nodes at each of these points,” he explained as he pointed to them on the schematic. “We just tell each of them to pass the bridge C and C signals to the next node on through the new path.”

“What about return signals?”

“They will automatically try to return along the same path. But newly initiated signals must know where to go as well, so you must also reprogram all nodes in reverse to detour all signals bound for the bridge across the same new paths.”

Deliza looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “Right. Do you always make this much sense?”

“What? It is easy,” he said. Deliza looked at him quizzically. “Very well,” he declared, “I will do it myself—”

“No, I can do it,” she insisted. “It’s just basic signal routing, after all. Child’s play really.”

“Children on your world like to play with signal routing?”

“I thought it was an Earth expression,” Deliza defended. “I heard Abby say it.”

“Ah, yes.” Vladimir shook his head. “Forgive me, I am very tired.”

Deliza looked at Vladimir. He didn’t look good. His eyes were red and had bags under them, and his hair was messier than usual. “Maybe you should get some rest.”

“Not until all the crew is back and the ship is working,” he insisted. “Now, before I go to medical, let me show you how to access and reprogram the nodes. Once you know how, it will only take you minutes.”

* * *

“Now, let’s just review the rules here, shall we?” Captain de Winter said. He was wearing Doctor Pantor’s medical uniform and was putting on his name badge as he stepped closer to Doctor Galloway and Nurse Brymer. “I am Doctor Pantor,” he explained, pointing at his name badge. “See? It says so right here.” He turned and looked at Andre, who was now wearing the medical technician’s uniform. “He is Mister Lenox.” He then pointed to the other two anti-insurgency agents, who had removed their assault gear, were dressed only in the plain black uniforms of the Corinari, and no longer carried weapons. “And these four are merely a group of nice young soldiers who are coming along to help carry all of our impressive medical gear.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” Doctor Galloway warned. “This ship has got to be crawling with armed crew. You won’t even get out of the hangar.”

Captain de Winter squatted down in front of Doctor Galloway and stared at her for a moment. “You might be surprised,” he said. “Now, will I have your cooperation, or do I have to kill you both right here and go it alone?”

“What do you need us for?” Nurse Brymer asked. “You already have plenty of people. Aren’t we just an unnecessary risk?”

“Perhaps, but the two of you do lend a certain… authenticity to the group; don’t you think?” The captain waited for a moment, but got no response. “I’ll take your silence as agreement. Just keep in mind that one false move, or one slip of the tongue, and the good sergeant here will break your pretty little necks.” The captain turned to the sergeant. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“Shall we then?” he said, his hand gesturing toward the side door.

The remaining men still clad in body armor and carrying heavy weapons huddled at the back of the cargo bay to avoid being seen by anyone that might be peering in through the side loading door.

The side loading door of the medevac shuttle swung away from the ship and down toward the deck, becoming a gangway as it reached its fully opened position. Sergeant Tukalov, now playing the part of the medical technician, Mister Lenox, peered out into the Aurora’s hangar bay. Standing not more than ten meters away was a young woman with a partially healed wound on her forehead, dressed in what appeared to be some sort of medical uniform, although it was unlike the ones that they wore. Hers were just a simple pair of lightweight pants and a pullover top with a shallow v-neck and a single pocket over the left breast. She held some sort of data pad in her left hand and was smiling nervously.

Andre looked both left and right before he made his way down the ramp, a medical satchel in each hand. Captain de Winter came down the ramp behind him.

“Hello,” the young lady said. “My name is Doctor Cassandra Evans.”

“Ah, then you must be the ship’s physician,” Captain de Winter said. “I’m Doctor Pantor.”

“Oh no, I’m not a medical doctor,” she corrected with embarrassment. “My doctorate is in human physiology, not medicine. I’m just here to show you the way to medical.”

“I see,” the captain said as he waited for Doctor Galloway and Nurse Brymer to reach the bottom of the gangway. “This is Mister Lenox, our medical technician, and this is Doctor Galloway and Nurse Brymer. If you’ll just give us a moment to gather our gear, then we’ll be ready to go.”

“Of course.”

Captain de Winter turned and watched as the first two soldiers carried the gurney down the gangway and the next two came down carrying several bags of medical equipment and supplies.

Two members of the Aurora’s crew appeared at the starboard entrance to the hangar bay, both carrying close-quarters automatic weapons. They quickly made their way across the hangar deck to the medevac shuttle. Andre and the two soldiers carrying the gurney immediately took notice and began to tense up.

“Easy,” Captain de Winter whispered, as he felt his own pulse rate quicken.

The two crewmen continued to approach, but other than carrying their weapons in a ready position across their chests, they showed no other signs of aggression.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the first crewman said. “We’ve been ordered to help you escort our guests to medical.”

“Okay,” she agreed, somewhat confused.

“Sirs, ma’ams,” the first crewman began, “Ensign Kamenetskiy has ordered us to safely escort you and your team to and from medical. However, before we can let you come aboard, we will need to inspect your equipment.”

“Is there a problem?” Andre asked.

“No sir. I’m sure the Ensign just wanted to ensure your safety. We’ve got a lot of repairs underway after our last battle, and there are a lot of exposed systems that might react unfavorably with your medical devices.”

“I see,” Andre said, satisfied for the moment that there was no reason for him to be overly concerned at this point. “Lead the way, gentlemen.”

The crewmen that had done the speaking headed out across the hangar bay, not in the direction he had come, but rather down the length of the hangar bay toward the bow of the ship. The Corinairan medical team, both real and impostors, followed behind him with the second crewman from the Aurora and Cassandra bringing up the rear.

Captain de Winter’s eyes glanced from side to side as he noticed the condition of the hangar bay. There was the wreckage of two ships, one smaller and more badly damaged; the other identical to the shuttle that had carried him and his men down to the surface of Corinair as prisoners only hours ago. There was also an older model Takaran deep space patrol fighter. He recognized it from pictures he had seen. The design had been abandoned decades ago as the need for FTL capable fighters had been negated by the introduction of larger ships that could carry entire squadrons of short ranged interceptors, which were easier and less expensive to build and operate. While he had an idea of how the other ships ended up on board the Earth ship, the presence of the old Takaran fighter was somewhat of a mystery, as to his knowledge they had all been decommissioned.

Another surprise was the presence of burn marks on the walls and ceilings of the hangar. There had obviously been a battle involving energy weapons that had taken place in this very bay. However, he had no knowledge of such an action taken on the part of any Ta’Akar ships. Then again, details of the Aurora’s activities had been sketchy, and what he did not know had been filled in with many assumptions.

* * *

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Ensign Mendez said. “You intercepted a message headed for command, and your captain took it into his own hands to take action.”

“Yes,” Ensign Willard answered.

“So command doesn’t even know you’re here, right?”

“No, they do not.”

“But the message about us is still on its way to your command. Did you send them word of your intentions as well?” Mendez asked.

“No, we did not. This action would also be considered a serious breach in protocol.”

Enrique thought for a moment. “How long will it take that comm-drone to reach Takaran command?”

“At one hundred times the speed of light? About two weeks. Takara is only four point two light years from Corinair.”

“And how long will it take for them to respond?”

“It depends on the location of the responding ship. However, to the best of my knowledge we were the only ship in this sector. It is more likely that the ship will come from Takara herself.”

“And how long will that take?”

“It would take ten times as long. Even our fastest ships can only travel at ten times the speed of light, so it would take approximately one hundred and fifty days for a ship to make the journey from Takara to Darvano. But that’s assuming they will travel at maximum velocity.”

“Then we’ve got about five, maybe six months before anyone comes looking for us here,” Enrique realized.

“Months?” Ensign Willard wondered, unfamiliar with the term.

“It’s how we subdivide a standard solar year. Twelve months in a year, thirty days in a month, three hundred and sixty five days in a year—”

Ensign Willard looked puzzled. “Three hundred and sixty five does not divide evenly by twelve.”

“Not all months are thirty days long. It doesn’t matter anyway,” Mendez insisted. “What type of ship might they send?”

“Procedure would dictate a vessel of equal or greater capability be dispatched. However, the only ship more powerful than a battle carrier like the Yamaro would be a capital ship, and it is doubtful that they would send one of those. There are only three left, two of which are always guarding the Takaran home world. They would only send a capital ship if they were sure of a hostile action.”

“What if we could intercept that comm-drone, stop it from delivering the message?”

“That might buy you some time,” Ensign Willard said.

“Would they miss it?”

“Doubtful. As I said, it was not a regularly scheduled comm-run. It was dispatched ahead of schedule due to the urgency of the message it carried. As long as the next comm-drone arrived on schedule, they would have no reason to believe anything was amiss in this system. Then you would have until the next yearly patrol came through.”

“And when would that be?”

“I do not know,” Ensign Willard admitted. “However, I’m sure the Corinairans would have a rough idea, based on past visits. At the very least, they could tell you how long it has been since the last visit.”

Ensign Mendez leaned back in his seat. “I’m sure Jess is going to love all of this. She’s been dying for some good intel on you guys for awhile now.”

“I do not consider myself a Takaran,” Ensign Willard reminded him. “I am a Corinairan.”

“Sorry, I forgot. The uniform and all.”

“May I?” Ensign Willard asked, indicating that he wished to remove his uniform jacket.

“Of course.”

Chapter Five

The crewman leading the group of visitors stepped to the right after entering the medical treatment room. Captain de Winter, posing as Doctor Pantor of Corinair, led the rest of them into the room. The room itself was somewhat disheveled, with blood smears on the walls and floors. Every bed was occupied with injured crew, most of who appeared to have been recently injured. Several of the ship’s crewmen were busy trying to clean the place up after having finally caught up with the flow of wounded.

“Excuse me,” Cassandra said as she squeezed past the sergeant posing as a medical technician. She was trying to make her way to the front of the group in order to make introductions.

The second crewman took up position on the left side of the entrance opposite the first crewman. Andre squatted down and opened up one of the equipment satchels directly in front of the guard on the right side of the door and pretended to look for something in the bag. On the opposite side of the gurney, one of his men playing the part of a Corinairan soldier moved over out of the way, stepping just to the left and in front of the opposite crewman who had taken up position on the left side of the door.

“Doctor Chen,” Cassandra called as she made her way to the front of the group.

Doctor Chen turned around to see Cassandra, who seemed somewhat excited as she approached.

“This is the medical team from Corinair,” she stated exuberantly.

“I am Doctor Pantor,” Captain de Winter said. He had spoken with a heavy accent, pretending to be not proficient at Angla, just as most Corinairans were supposed to be. It was a difficult task for him, since he had studied several ancient languages, including Angla, during his education. “This is Doctor Galloway and this is Nurse Brymer. And the patient is where?”

“Hello, I’m Doctor Chen. The patient is right over there in bed one,” she answered, pointing behind her and to her left.