Ep.#15 - "That Which Other Men Cannot Do" (The Frontiers Saga) (11 page)

* * *

“Seems kind of tight, doesn’t it?” Nathan commented as the elevator pad slowed and he got his first view of the Celestia’s new fighter launch deck.

“The idea was to dedicate as much space as possible to the launch tubes,” the master chief explained.

“There’s barely enough room for ships to maneuver in here. A lot of those Eagle pilots are going to be low-timers.
Really
low-timers, in fact.”

“The movement system will be automated,” Cameron said. “Ground crews will only have to input where they want a ship to be parked, and the ship will move there automatically. The pilots will only be in the cockpits from launch to landing.”

“Throughout the entire ship, or just on this deck?” Nathan wondered.

“The entire ship,” the master chief chimed in. “If it rolls on our decks, it does so by control of the auto-movement system.”

“It’s going to be that way on the Aurora as well,” Cameron added.

“I can think of a few pilots who might object,” Nathan replied as they stepped off the port elevator pad and headed forward.

“Four tubes per side, so, eight ships will always stand ready in the tubes, and eight more lined up to enter,” Master Chief Montrose explained as they walked. “We’ll be able to get sixteen Eagles off in just a few minutes of an alert. Another sixteen within the following ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” Nathan replied, unimpressed. “Surely we can do better than that?”

“Can’t be helped,” Cameron insisted. “It takes time to get additional ships up from the hangar deck, and we can only fit two Eagles per elevator pad. There just isn’t enough space here.”

“I still think we should have put the launch tubes on the primary cargo deck,” Nathan said.

“That would have taken months,” Cameron reminded him. “We would’ve had to remove propellant tanks, maneuvering thrusters—and the hull is twice as thick there. Besides, if we need to get more ships off faster, we can always launch them from the main catapults on the main flight deck. Three at a time, per side. All in all, it’s still a more efficient system than the original design.”

Nathan looked into one of the port launch tube airlocks. “Wow, that is really tight.”

“I said the same thing when I first saw it,” Cameron agreed. “Since they’ll never launch anything but Eagles, they made the airlocks really snug, so as to save time repressurizing them between launch cycles. The tubes themselves are slightly bigger, but not by much.”

Nathan stopped and looked around, taking notice of all the work still in progress. “How long until everything is complete?”

“It’s mostly just touch-up work and adjustments right now,” Master Chief Montrose said.

“The first Super Eagles won’t start rolling off the production line for a couple more weeks,” Cameron added. “This deck will be fully operational long before then.”

“How long until you get your first birds?” Nathan asked.

“According to the admiral’s office, the first sixteen ships should be delivered to us in forty-nine days.”

“Sixteen fighters in less than two months,” Nathan commented in awe.

“Fabricator technology is a wonderful asset,” Cameron said, equally amazed. “Plasma weapons and shields aside, they’ve got to be the best thing the Pentaurus cluster gave us.” Cameron looked at Nathan. “We wouldn’t have them if you hadn’t chosen to stay and defend Corinair.”

“Despite your objections,” Nathan added, a wry smile on his face.

“Despite my objections,” Cameron admitted.

Nathan paused again as they reached the center of the compartment, slowly turning a full circle as he took the entire scene in. “Makes me wish I had become a fighter pilot instead.”

“You’re not cocky enough,” Cameron said. “Arrogant, yes.”

* * *

“Most of our intelligence comes from the gathering of emissions from the worlds within the system,” Commander Saray said. “In addition, we are also able to glean some details from the business transactions between Darvano and Takara, and Savoy and Takara. It is by no means complete, however. And from what we’ve pieced together thus far, it does not appear that the nobles of Takara are doing anything other than minding their interstellar business interests. In fact, several houses have traded their interstellar assets for interplanetary, or even domestic concerns.”

“No doubt, they are trying to reduce their financial risks in uncertain times,” Captain Navarro stated.

“A wise move,” Commander Golan commented.

“There are a few who are buying up those interstellar interests with considerable enthusiasm,” Commander Saray continued.

“They will be worthy of monitoring,” the captain cautioned. “As they are taking the greatest financial risks, they will be more concerned with the stability of the cluster than others.”

“Or the
instability
,” Commander Saray added. “Great profits can be pulled from such conditions, if one is clever enough.”

“True,” Captain Navarro agreed.

“What we
need
are operatives on the ground,” Commander Saray said.

“Have you none?” Commander Golan wondered. “You are the chief of intelligence, after all.”

“I have many operatives,” Commander Saray defended. “Unfortunately, most of them are
not
positioned within the Takaran system. We had neither warning nor time…”

“Gentlemen, please,” Captain Navarro interrupted, “None of us could have foreseen the abrupt changes this sector has experienced in the last year. All we can do is adapt to the changes as best we can.”

“I can get operatives onto the Takaran worlds,” Commander Saray promised, “but it will take time.”

“How much time?” Captain Navarro asked.

“Weeks, maybe even months.”

Captain Navarro sighed, a pensive look on his face. “And then it will take additional time for them to position themselves.”

“Without raising suspicion, yes,” Commander Saray agreed.

“Do what you can, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Navarro turned to Commander Golan, sitting on the opposite side of the table from Commander Saray. “How are our sensor nets?”

“As instructed, we have deployed reprogrammed sensor drones along all major shipping lanes leading to and from the Takaran system. They are using only passive systems, so they will be difficult to detect, should anyone be looking for them. We have tasked a comm-drone to jump from sensor to sensor, once a day, to collect recorded readings.”

“And if an outbound warship should pass one of the sensor drones?” Commander Saray wondered. “If it is a jump ship, the drone will never see it.”

“Obviously, it will only detect conventional FTL traffic, in which case the daily collection of data will be more than sufficient. Even if it could detect a jump ship, it would be of no value as the ship in question would reach its destination long before warning could be received, even if the sensor was programmed to abandon its position and jump back to warn us.”

“Seems rather pointless.”

“The nobles have three ships in total,” Captain Navarro pointed out. “And only one of them is currently jump capable.”

“
Currently
, being the operative term,” Commander Saray emphasized. “Intelligence indicates they are putting every effort into making their remaining ships jump capable, as well.”

“A cruiser and two frigates are hardly a concern,” Commander Golan said.

“No, they are not,” Captain Navarro agreed. “As long as we know where they are. I am more concerned about that battleship.”

“The Inman?” Commander Golan wondered, seeming somewhat surprised by his captain’s concerns. “She is at least two years from completion,
if
the nobles are able to maintain her build schedule, which I seriously doubt. Besides, did you not warn them not to attempt to increase their fleet strength?”

“We have no indications that construction has resumed on the Inman, Captain,” Commander Saray assured the group. “In fact, we have unconfirmed reports of resources and equipment being taken
away
from the Inman in favor of their operational vessels.”

“The nobles
will
resume construction of the Inman,” Captain Navarro insisted. “House Kalisch has too much invested in her to simply walk away. Furthermore, they know that until the Darvano and Savoy systems are able to build their own warships, we are stuck here, defending them.”

“Perhaps we should strike now,” Commander Golan speculated. “The Inman’s assembly facility has no significant defenses. A flight of combat jump shuttles, and a handful of jump fighters could easily set the Inman’s completion back several years, if not destroy her completely.”

“Too aggressive,” Captain Navarro replied. “Such an overt act would almost require an armed response by the nobles—to save face, if nothing more.”

“Captain, rumor has it that the houses holding ownership of Takara’s three warships are demanding compensation from the other houses in exchange for protection,” Commander Saray explained. “If this is true, and if the other noble houses agree to such compensation, it will greatly restrict the movements of those ships.”

“Especially if the Avendahl continues to be seen as a direct threat,” Commander Golan observed.

Captain Navarro leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest pensively. He uncrossed them to rub his chin, pondering the situation. “Commander Golan, should one or two of your sensor drones inadvertently release detectable emissions, I shall not be angry.”

“An occasional probe of the outskirts of Takara might be in order as well,” Commander Saray suggested.

“A gunship or two, perhaps?” Commander Golan added.

“A single ship should suffice,” Captain Navarro insisted. “Let’s not make it too obvious.”

“Yes, sir.” Commander Golan replied.

“You know, Captain, it
is
possible that Lord Ganna was speaking in earnest. After all, any attempt to expand the Takaran Empire at this time would be extremely risky, and would offer little reward. Furthermore, the Takaran economy is far too fragile at the moment.”

“I have considered that,” Captain Navarro admitted. “However, I do not trust Ganna, or any of the other major houses of Takara. Such men crave wealth—sometimes at the sacrifice of all else. Let us not forget how profitable the times of expansion were for us all, under the reign of Caius. Our job, gentlemen, is to see that it does not happen again.”

* * *

Commander Telles walked briskly across the tarmac toward the assembly of men, Master Sergeant Jahal at his side. “I assume that they have all met minimum physical requirements?”

“Of course,” Master Sergeant Jahal replied. “Every one of them was screened at the Karuzara’s medical center before being transferred down to us. They are healthy and fit for duty, and there is not a Jung nanite in any of them.”

Commander Telles looked at the master sergeant. “That’s surprising, considering they all came from worlds that were recently occupied by the Jung.”

“That’s why there are only a thousand volunteers, at the moment,” the master sergeant explained. “More than twice that number volunteered, but only these men were nanite-free.”

Commander Telles stepped up onto the podium, turning to face the men assembled before him. Ghatazhak sergeants moved up and down their lines, chewing out volunteers whose stance they did not deem proper. He listened to their voices, remembering those of his own drill instructors many years ago, when he was only a teenager. Those men had scared the crap out of him at first. He had hated each and every one of them. However, over time, he had learned to use that hatred to fuel his own desire to excel, so that those men would have no reason to yell at him.

The commander turned his head slightly, looking at his master sergeant.

“Company, ah-ten-HUT!” the master sergeant barked, his voice loud and sharp enough to be heard over even the distant whine of lift turbines and the
zing
of shuttles disappearing in jump flashes only a few hundred meters above them.

The group of men snapped to attention, their bodies rigid, their hands at their sides, and their eyes straight ahead. The commander paused again as his sergeants went into even greater fury, chastising anyone who was not standing tall in their eyes. After nearly a minute, the last sergeant fell to the side of the line, until the entire company was standing tall and proud.

Commander Telles touched his comm-set, tying it into the loudspeaker built into the podium. “Gentlemen, my name is Commander Lucius Telles. I am the leader of the Ghatazhak, and the commanding officer of all Alliance ground forces. Our number currently stands at four hundred seventy-eight. In thirty days, those of you who pass this course will be added to that number. The men training you are seasoned Ghatazhak, all of whom have survived the bloodiest combat you can possibly imagine…more than once. Each of them trained for more than a decade before they were ever put into harm’s way. You will not find better trained warriors anywhere in the galaxy. Make no mistake, when you finish your training, you will not be as them. You will never be as them. However, you
will
be ready to fight. Ready, able, and equipped. You
will
fight, and many of you
will
die. For that is the nature of war. Train hard, as if your life, and the lives of the men standing beside you, depend on it…for they do. As of this moment, you should all be considered brave men. For each of you has volunteered to give your life in the service of something much greater than yourself. There is no braver act, and there is no greater pride. Give me your best effort, and I will always give you mine.” Commander Telles turned to his master sergeant. “Master Sergeant Jahal. Get these men into uniforms.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“
Admiral Galiardi, you claim that Captain Scott did not have the authority to form the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance, and that the Earth Defense Force should still exist. Can you elaborate on that for our viewers?
”

“This should be good,” Jessica said.

Nathan watched the view screen on the wall of his ready room, as the camera switched from the interviewer to Admiral Galiardi.

“
I’d be glad to, Meredith. First of all, although
then
Lieutenant Scott was in fact handed command by the legal commander of the Aurora prior to succumbing to his injuries, according to EDF regulations, the acting captain did not have the same authority as the legal captain, which means Lieutenant Scott did not have the authority to enter into agreements on behalf of the EDF and Earth itself. As the acting commanding officer of the Aurora, he only had the authority to make decisions to ensure the safe return of the ship and her crew back to EDF control, at which time a new legal commanding officer would have been appointed.
”

“That’s a crock!” Jessica snorted.

“Ssh! I’m trying to listen,” Nathan scolded.

“
But when the Aurora arrived back in the Sol system, the Jung had already seized control of Earth, and the EDF had surrendered,
” the interviewer said.

“
That’s irrelevant to the question of whether or not the Alliance is binding upon the people of Earth,
” the admiral insisted. “
The question is whether or not the formation of this alliance was reasonably necessary in order to ensure the Aurora’s safe return to EDF control. When you look at the performance logs of the Aurora’s jump drive while she was still in the Pentaurus cluster, it becomes apparent that she probably could have made it home unaided, possibly even before the Jung invaded.
”

“Now that
is
a crock!” Jessica blurted out.

“Jess…”

“You know damn well we wouldn’t have made it home in time, even if we had headed back immediately.”

“We can’t know that for sure,” Nathan reminded her.

“Even if we had, we would have been in no shape to take on the Jung fleet that invaded Earth,” Jessica argued. “And we wouldn’t have any of the weapons or technology that we have now…”

“Jess, please,” Nathan begged.

“But he is
so
full of shit.”

“
The EDF did not cease to exist after we surrendered to the Jung. The fact is, a highly trained force went underground—myself included—all according to a plan devised years prior,
” Admiral Galiardi told the reporter.

“
So, you’re saying that the surrender was all part of some elaborate plan?
” the interviewer asked for clarification.

“
Precisely,
” the admiral replied. “
We determined a long time ago that if the Jung came at us with more than a dozen or so ships, Earth would likely fall. Surrender was our backup plan. We had been stockpiling arms and munitions for years. We even laid traps out among the asteroids in hopes of luring Jung ships in and destroying them. When we surrendered, everyone who knew of the plan went into hiding, including all of our scout ships. The idea was to wait in hiding, and attack when opportunities presented themselves.
”

“
But you were captured by the Jung, tortured by them…
”

“
I wasn’t exactly tortured
,” the admiral corrected.

“
You spent the better part of a year in the hospital because of capture…
”

“
Not because of torture,
” the admiral corrected. “
Most of my injuries were the result of my attempts to evade capture.
”

“
And the neurological injuries that you sustained?
” the interviewer asked.

“
Those were the result of the more aggressive nanite protocols the Jung used to extract information from me.
”

“
Wouldn’t that be called torture?
”

“
Perhaps, but not in the traditional sense. But we are wandering from the point, here, Meredith. The fact of the matter is, the EDF did not technically surrender. Therefore, it should still exist as a military entity. An entity governed by the duly elected leaders of Earth, and not by people from halfway across the galaxy.
”

“
But Admiral, haven’t those people volunteered to help us? Haven’t they been sacrificing themselves to help protect Earth?
”

“
Yes, and we should be forever grateful,
” the admiral agreed. “
I just don’t think we should be allowing them to have control over our people and our ships.
”

“I can’t watch this crap any longer,” Jessica said, picking up the remote and turning off the view screen in disgust.

“Maybe I wanted to watch it?” Nathan said, displeased.

“He’s just trying to make waves,” she insisted. “He’s just trying to call attention to himself.”

“To what end?” Nathan questioned.

“I don’t know. Maybe he wants to run for president, or something?”

“Strange way of going about it. From what I’ve seen on the Earth nets, most Terrans support the Alliance and are damn glad that we created it.”

“That’s just because of Takaran fabrication technology,” Jessica insisted. “Without it, most of us would still be living in makeshift camps.”

“Plenty of us still are, Jess,” Nathan pointed out.

“There are more than a thousand fabricators chugging away on the surface,” Jessica replied, “and they’re making more of them every day. Because of them, we’re recovering faster than anyone could have dreamed. In a few years, it will be like it never happened.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Nathan muttered.

“Not as long as there are people like Galiardi out there, spouting his mouth off and stirring up dissent.”

“Did it ever occur to you that he might actually believe what he is saying?” Nathan asked. “I mean, we
are
spread
a little thin, after all. Sure, all of the worlds that we’ve liberated thus far will be within our maximum double-jump range, but if we keep expanding, that won’t be the case. There is a logical argument to be made for concentrating on our own safety, before going out and liberating everyone else.”

“It didn’t stop you from liberating Tanna,” Jessica argued, “and they’re
way
outside our double-jump range.”

“Yes, but we desperately needed propellant at the time.”

“That’s my point. It was a calculated risk, just like attacking the battle group at Alpha Centauri B, and Tau Ceti, and all the others. That’s the way wars work. Risk versus reward. Galiardi should know that. Which is why I’m crying foul here, Nathan. If that old fart was still in command, he’d have us obliterating everything with a Jung logo on it throughout the sector. He’s just bitching because he’s
not
in command, and he desperately
wants
to be.”

“Perhaps,” Nathan admitted, “but it won’t happen anytime soon, that’s for sure. Not as long as my father is in office.”

* * *

Commander Telles stood at the rail of the watchtower, looking out across the training grounds. In the distance, he could see a group of men making their way through the obstacle course. Directly opposite, he could see another group on the rifle range, and a third group on the handgun range. In front of him, several groups were receiving instruction in hand-to-hand combat from Ghatazhak sergeants. He watched as, one by one, the trainees failed to disarm their Ghatazhak instructors. He sighed.

“It’s only been four days, Commander,” Master Sergeant Jahal reminded him, noticing his frustration. “I doubt I could disarm Sergeant Toomey myself.”

“They have determination, but they have no skills.” The commander looked at the master sergeant. “They will be easy fodder for the Jung.”

“They may yet surprise you,” Master Sergeant Jahal said. “A few of them do have some natural skills.” Both men winced as one of the trainees hit the ground hard after being thrown by his instructor. “Not
that
one, obviously,” the master sergeant said, holding back a laugh. “Perhaps he will do well on the range?”

“How is the body armor coming along?” the commander asked.

“The engineers have come up with a modified system that combines the EDF tactical protective gear with our own tactical helmet, comms, and power packs. They will not have the full capabilities of our combat gear, but it will provide considerable protection, and more importantly, it will link up with our own tactical data systems.”

“An odd combination, is it not?”

“There was already plenty of EDF gear available, and the additional Ghatazhak elements can be fabricated easily enough.”

“But the EDF gear was designed to defend against projectile weapons,” the commander said.

“Yes, but they create a decent substructure to which we can easily attach our own elements. Trust that the men will be adequately protected.”

“It would be better if we could put them all in full level-two Ghatazhak combat gear.”

“The assistive undergarment is more complex to fabricate, especially if it must be done so for different sizes. And without the undergarment, our combat gear is rather heavy.”

“Yes, I remember,” the commander said, recalling the days spent training without functioning assistive undergarments.

“They are also working on various modifications, such as more heavily armored versions for the front lines, and even combat shields that can be carried for additional protection.”

“Sounds rather cumbersome.”

“Perhaps,” the master sergeant admitted, “but these men will not be trained to fight in the same style as the Ghatazhak. Therefore, they will require different gear.”

“A wise observation, my friend,” the commander said, as he watched one of the trainees below finally manage to perform the disarming move correctly. He looked at his master sergeant. “Well, that’s one.”

* * *

“You want to send them our fighter pilots?” Commander Montague asked in disbelief. “Excuse me, sir, but whose brilliant idea was that?”

“Mine, actually,” Captain Navarro replied.

“I see,” the Avendahl’s wing commander said.

“We are not likely to see significant action in the near future, Commander. Even if we did, it would likely be ship-to-ship, not fighter engagements. And we are surely not engaging in any ground assaults requiring close air support in the months to come. In fact, it is quite likely that we will remain here, in the Darvano system, for the next few years.”

“But, Captain…”

“It would only be a loan,” Captain Navarro explained, “until they can train new pilots from Alliance worlds in the Sol sector.”

Commander Montague sighed. “I wasn’t aware that they even
had
any fighters.”

“They do not. But they soon will. The first Super Eagle will roll off their new production line in about a week’s time. Within a few months, they will have two full squadrons. Your men would not only be helping to train their new pilots, but they would be gaining valuable combat experience.”

“Assuming they don’t get killed,” the commander protested. “If I remember correctly, their Eagles were no match for the Jung fighters.”

“The
old
Eagles, yes. The Super Eagles will be much more formidable,” Captain Navarro explained, trying to sell the commander on the idea. “Maybe even more formidable than our own.”

“In the hands of my men, perhaps.”

“Exactly my point. Meanwhile, we can begin training replacement pilots here, using Corinairans and Ancotans.”

“Why?”

“As you said, some of our pilots might not return. In addition, the demand for pilots in the Sol sector will always be high, just as it will be here. We might as well be prepared.”

Commander Montague sighed again, resigning himself to the inevitable. “How many?”

“Thirty-two,” the captain replied. “In four groups of eight.”

“That’s a third of our pilots, Captain.”

“I was going to ask for half,” Captain Navarro confessed.

“Fine, thirty-two it is. How soon will they be leaving?”

“Thirty days, at the most. I have already received the specifications on the Super Eagles for your men to study, so they can be prepared to get to work as soon as they arrive.”

“Will there even be enough ships for them to fly when they arrive?” the commander asked.

“No, but they can take turns until more ships are built. The remaining groups will not be sent until their ships are ready. That will give our first eight pilots plenty of time to get to know their ships, and be able to pass their expertise on to the rest of their fellow pilots when they arrive.”

* * *

Captain Nash watched the monitors as crew inside the simulator went about the business of crashing their ship into an asteroid. “Cause?” he asked the simulation controller.

“I gave them a failure in the port bow thrusters,” the technician replied. “They were on final approach to perform a slingshot maneuver around the asteroid when I initiated the failure.”

“At what range?”

“A few hundred meters.”

“A little close, don’t you think?”

“It should have been enough time for them to compensate with the docking thrusters instead,” the tech insisted.

“Yeah, but this crew has what, ten hours of sim time? Maybe you should throw it at them at a distance of at least a kilometer to start with.”

“You said to be tough on them, sir.”

“Yeah, I know,” the captain admitted. “But ease them into the hard stuff. We can’t afford to shake their confidence too much in the beginning. If they have too many failures early on, they’ll be second-guessing themselves forever.”

“As you wish, Captain,” the technician replied.

“Give it to them again, from further out.”

“The same problem?”

“Yes, the same problem. Let them realize that they
are
able to work the problem.”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over his face and up through his hair.

“How long since you’ve slept?” Lieutenant Commander Rano asked.

Robert turned in surprise, having not heard his XO enter the simulator control room. “I don’t know.” He glanced at the time display on the wall. “Twenty hours, maybe? How did the flight go?”

“It went well. Room for improvement, of course, but overall I think Captain Annatah and his crew are ready to start their service tour.”

“Great,” Robert replied. “Let’s get them out on a standard perimeter patrol. It’ll be boring as all hell, but it’ll be good for them to get some time in space without anyone looking over their shoulders or yelling at them over the comms.”

“I’ll send them out first thing tomorrow.”

“What about Cobra Three?”

“Rescheduled,” the lieutenant commander replied. “Problem with a power coupling. I’m going to take out Cobra Four instead.”

“Are they ready?”

“We will see. How is the next group doing in the simulators?”

Captain Nash groaned in frustration. “Not as well as the last bunch, that’s for sure. I’m having Tori ease up on them a bit, try and build their confidence before we start slamming them with impossible scenarios.”