Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga) (15 page)

“Whoever they are, or where ever they’re from, they have a few favors coming their way from us,” the med-tech added.

“They’re from Earth,” the crew chief told them.

The passengers all looked at him in disbelief.

“Earth? You mean Earth, Earth? The one in the legends?” Doctor Pantor asked. “Are you sure?”

“I met their captain,” the chief explained. “He was sitting right where you are now.”

The passengers all looked at each other this time.

“You spoke to him?” Doctor Pantor asked.

“A little.”

“They speak our language?” Doctor Galloway asked in amazement.

“No. Well, two of them did. But I don’t think they were from Earth. I think they were from somewhere in the cluster. But their captain; Nathan, he spoke something very similar to Angla.”

“Unbelievable,” the med-tech exclaimed. “The last thing I thought I’d be doing today would be meeting people from Earth.”

“Or any other day, for that matter,” Doctor Pantor added.

“What were they like?” the nurse asked.

“Pretty much like us, I suppose. Their captain seemed pretty young. They all seemed pretty shaken as well, like they’d been through a lot recently.”

“Well, they did just battle it out with a Takaran warship,” the med-tech said. “That would shake me up pretty good.”

“I heard on the news,” nurse Brymer said, “people are saying that it’s the legend come true. They’re saying that their captain
is
Na-tan.”

“That’s just a myth,” Doctor Pantor said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “Nobody believes in that stuff any longer.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “They’re rioting in the streets, the Loyalists and the Followers.”

“Of the Order?” Doctor Pantor said. “What do you know about the Order?”

Nurse Brymer suddenly became withdrawn. “Nothing, really. I just heard stuff; that’s all.”

“He is just a man, like any other,” Chief Montrose stated. “He just happens to be from Earth.”

“And he just
happens
to command a ship that saved us all from certain annihilation,” the nurse added.

* * *

A single, black, Kalibri airship with Corinari markings and crest swooped in toward the spaceport. Its standard running lights blinking away as it came in over the fence, if anyone took notice, they would assume it was just another military airship ferrying personnel from one place to another. The sky was littered with them on this night.

The airship followed a standard, military-style emergency approach, as had most of their airships that had come and gone from this port over the last few hours. It flew only a few meters above the rows of hangars and open berths, most of which had already emptied during the mass exodus from the planet earlier that day.

Under normal operational conditions, the airship would not have been able to enter the spaceport’s traffic pattern without prior authorization. In addition, they would have had to relinquish flight control of their aircraft, allowing the spaceport’s automated systems to fly them in and out of the busy complex. Today, however, was different. The events of the last twelve hours had caused so much chaos, and there had been so much death and destruction as a result of the Yamaro’s orbital bombardment of the planet, that it was all they could do just to keep the spaceport operational.

At this point, the spaceport had little more than manual air traffic controllers communicating with air and space ships via portable communication equipment. They had literally no tracking facilities in operation, and what little defenses they did have in place were more to keep the crowds of refugees from swarming the complex than to defend against attack from above.

A hastily erected and barricaded gun emplacement, one of dozens that had been quickly deployed to protect the spaceport, tracked the small airship as it came in to land. Although it had identified itself to the traffic controller, it was still considered a higher threat level than the screaming crowds outside the perimeter fence, thus it warranted the attention of the gunners. However, no order to fire had come, as local command believed the pilot’s statement that he was delivering security forces to accompany the medevac flight and did not wish to call attention to its mission.

The gunners watched warily as the airship touched gently down on the tarmac not thirty meters from the medevac shuttle that was already idling in preparation for liftoff. Through their electronic gun sights, they could see the six armed men in standard Corinari flat black uniforms scoot off the deck of the small airship after it landed and released its hold on them. As the airship leapt back into the air and sped away, the men left on the tarmac formed up and proceeded in standard military fashion to the wide rear loading ramp of the medevac shuttle. Four of the six men headed up the ramp, leaving two at the foot of the ramp who turned to face away from the shuttle, their weapons held across their chests in a ready state. It seemed quite obvious to the gunners that a Corinari security detail had just taken responsibility for the medevac shuttle’s safety. Relieved, the operators returned their guns to their original positions, aimed outward toward the perimeter.

“Sir?”
the voice called over his helmet comms.

“What is it, Chief?” the pilot of the medevac shuttle asked as his eyes danced over the cockpit displays in performance of his preflight checks.

“We’ve got company.”

The pilot turned to his left, his eyes meeting his copilot’s.

“Are they here already?” the pilot asked, a surprised look on his face.

“Not exactly. We’ve got Corinari forces coming up the ramp,”
his crew chief reported.

“That can’t be good,” his copilot added as she made adjustments to the displays.

The pilot rotated to his left as far as he could while still sitting in his flight seat. He looked down the center aisle that passed from the cockpit to the passenger bay behind them. He could just make out the black clad men as they made their way through the passenger section.

“As you were,” Captain de Winter instructed the medevac shuttle’s crew chief, who promptly followed his orders and remained in his jump seat.

“Two here,” Sergeant Tukalov told the other two men. “No one comes forward without authorization from me.”

The men nodded as they took up positions on either side of the short corridor that led forward to the cockpit.

The crew chief looked up at the man standing next to him, taking special notice of the big weapon he was holding across his chest. “How’s it going?” he asked nervously. The guard did not respond, keeping his eyes fixed aft.

“I guess we should’ve expected this,” the copilot said, “considering all that’s going on.”

Captain de Winter appeared with Sergeant Tukalov at his side, who slid the cockpit door closed behind them. “No need to get up,” Captain de Winter told them.

“Who are you? What’s going on?” the pilot demanded.

“Nothing to worry about, we’re just here to keep you safe. Just do as you’re told, complete your mission, and everything will be fine.”

The pilot’s eyes widened as he recognized Captain de Winter. “You’re the one on the news broadcast. You’re the captain of that warship, the one that bombed us!” Despite their already enormous size, the pilot’s eyes suddenly got even wider. “You’re Takaran!”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Captain de Winter mused.

Andre reached forward to the center pedestal and switched off the internal comms.

In the aft section, the crew chief’s eyes also widened as his pilot’s words came across his helmet comms. He turned in his seat in shock to look again at the guards.

The guard next to him looked down at him sternly. “Are we going to have a problem?”

The crew chief swallowed hard. “No sir.”

“Good,” the guard said. “Let’s keep it that way.”

Captain de Winter leaned down, putting his head next to the pilot’s. “You might want to show a little more respect for those that rule over you.” The captain stood up again before continuing. “Now, in a few minutes, a medical team will arrive. You will do nothing to alert them that anything has changed. Shortly after that, more of my men will join us, at which point you will fly us all into the hangar of the enemy ship in orbit over your pathetic little world.”

The pilot’s mind was racing. He was the captain of this shuttle, and he was a Corinairan. He, like most Corinairans, hated the Ta’Akar, especially after today. For at least two generations, the Takarans had ruled over them, limited their advancement, limited their growth, and limited their society’s potential. Even worse, they had tried to force them to recognize the Takaran leader as a god among men. At that moment, an old adage came back to him. ‘
You can tell a man what to do, but you cannot tell him what to think or feel.
’

Captain de Winter watched as the pilot placed his hands on his legs and turned to look straight ahead. The captain recognized the position of defiance that the pilot was striking.

The copilot also saw it and followed his example, taking her hands off the controls and placing them on her legs as well.

“I see,” Captain de Winter said as he stepped aside. “Sergeant.”

Andre stepped forward, pulling out a small data pad from his thigh pocket. He grabbed the pilot’s left hand, pulling it forcefully up and away from the pilot’s side. He pulled out his data pad and passed it over the back of the pilot’s hand, using the pad’s scanner to read the small rectangular ident-chip that all subjects of the Ta’Akar empire were required to have implanted when they reached adulthood. The pad beeped twice in response. Dropping the pilot’s hand with obvious contempt, Andre stood upright again, watching the display on his data pad as it retrieved information from the database back at his command center. The sergeant then handed the data pad to Captain de Winter as he turned and resumed his position at the back of the cockpit.

“Hmm, let’s see,” the captain said as he flipped through the numerous screens of data now pouring into the data pad in his hand. “Ah, there we go,” he said as he lowered the data pad and held it in front of the pilot to see.

The pilot looked at the images of his family on the data pad. His wife, Carria, and his sons, Jakob and Wilham. He watched in horror as Captain de Winter continued to leaf through the images with a touch of his finger. “A fine family, indeed. I’m sure your sons would’ve grown up to be fine young men. A shame really.”

The pilot got the point. “What is it you want me to do?”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to violate your orders or even to deviate from your flight plan for that matter,” Captain de Winter said. “Just complete your mission and deliver us to that ship. That is all.”

Captain de Winter stood again, satisfied that he had made his point and secured the cooperation of the pilot. He turned to the copilot. “Now, shall I go through your family album as well?”

She looked at her pilot and saw the resignation in his eyes, the feeling of helplessness. Then she saw the opposite in Captain de Winter’s eyes, arrogance and superiority. She too acquiesced.

Captain de Winter turned and looked at Andre, a smug look on his face. “That was easier than I thought.”

* * *

“You were right, sir,” Loki proclaimed between bites. “This ‘grub’ is pretty good.”

Enrique watched as Loki shoveled the last of his food into his mouth, leaving his plate nearly spotless. “Did you get enough?” he asked somewhat sarcastically.

Loki looked back and forth, his eyes darting between Enrique and Weatherly. “You mean I can have more?”

Enrique laughed. “Ask Ensign Willard here. It’s his ship.”

Loki looked a bit confused.

“Eat all you want,” Ensign Willard told him. “There’s enough food on board to feed a few hundred people for several years. And I don’t expect we’ll need it where we’re going.”

“Thanks,” Loki said, getting up to fetch another plateful from the food dispensers.

“They don’t feed you on your ship?” Ensign Willard asked jokingly.

“It’s not that they don’t feed us,” Sergeant Weatherly explained. “It’s
what
they feed us.”

“Ah yes, this ‘molo’ you spoke of. Remind me never to try it.”

Enrique leaned back in his chair. “Listen, Ensign—”

“Please, call me Michael.”

“Very well, Michael. Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?”

“Of course not. After what you have done for my world, it is the least I can do.”

“Earlier, you said that you weren’t scheduled to come to Corinair, that it wasn’t on your patrol route. Then why did you come here?”

“As I said before, we were on our way to the Savoy system. We were to pick up a batch of new recruits to bring back to Takara for basic training. Before that, we had been on border duty, so our course for Savoy took us just along the edge of the Darvano system. We happened to pass by just as a comm-drone was departing the system. We intercepted a message about your ship, that it was hiding in the Darvano system.”

“But don’t those drones travel at something like one hundred times the speed of light?” Enrique wondered. “How could you even see it.”

“We can’t, not at that speed. But it can see us, or more accurately it can
detect
us. Comm-drones are programmed to drop back to sub-luminal velocities when it detects a transponder signal from a Takaran ship. This allows a ship to add messages to the comm-drone already in transit, instead of having to dispatch one of its own. It also allows the ship’s intelligence unit to examine messages contained within the drones and forward anything they suspect to be actionable to the captain.”

“He has the authority to take action on his own accord?” Enrique asked, surprised by the information.

“Yes, of course, when appropriate. The distances between systems sometimes necessitates such aggressive measures to ensure timely reactions by the empire.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Enrique admitted.

“When Captain de Winter realized that the drone we encountered was an unscheduled one, he ordered me to copy all military communiqués from the drone. One of the messages was marked urgent and was encrypted using a top level cipher. I was ordered to crack the cipher.”