Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga) (22 page)

The guards monitoring the perimeter detection systems behaved no differently tonight than from any other night. Their eyes jumped from one display to another, keeping an eye on the various video feeds, motion detection systems, and automated gun turrets located strategically around the base. Everything appeared as it usually did, just more brightly lit.

In the tree line just beyond the grassy perimeter, four teams of men, all dressed in predominantly dark colored civilian clothing, hid amongst the rocks, fallen trees, and heavy brush. The missile base had been built in the middle of a dense forest full of extremely old Jespin trees. Most of them never lived beyond a century, toppling when their bases weakened due to various molds found on the forest floor. Once fallen, their dead trunks remained for decades before significantly decaying. This collection of fallen timber made the approach through the forest an arduous task at the least. Trying to make the passage through the thick forest bed at night was nearly impossible, unless you were properly equipped.

Each three-man team had made their way through the thick forest in relatively short order using standard issue visual-enhancement systems. The maneuver had been well rehearsed over the years in similarly wooded areas. In fact, some of the areas they had chosen to train in had been more densely packed, making tonight’s passage seem easy by comparison.

The teams had all taken up well hidden positions along the edge of the tree line, one team on each of the four sides of the small base. Each team had a sniper, a tech operator, and a leader who also acted as the spotter.

 “All teams are in position around the Aitkenna missile base, sir.”

Commander Dumar showed no emotional reaction, as usual. “Start your hack, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir.” The lieutenant signaled the technician sitting at a terminal nearby with a simple nod. The technician immediately started typing furiously at his keyboard as streams of computer code flowed across his screen. The little green status light on the implant at the base of his neck flickered madly as streams of data moved back and forth between the computer system and the operator’s implant. His eyes didn’t seem to move, only stared straight ahead at the screen full of scrolling code, as if in a transcendent state.

Back in the security station at the Aitkenna missile base, one by one each of the video displays on the wall before them went dark. No sounds, no warnings. They just shut off.

“What the—”

Technicians began to scramble to determine the cause of the problem as their controls also began to rapidly shut down. The shift commander immediately picked up the comm-set to report an emergency when all the lights went out, leaving them in total darkness.

“Hello? Hello?” the shift commander called through the dead comm-set as the emergency battery-powered lighting flickered to life, bathing the room in a dull, red glow.

Outside the base, the bright flood lights suddenly shut down, allowing the darkness of the night to return. There were no sirens, no alarms, only the distant shouts of guards calling out to each other over dead comm-systems. No one knew what was happening, but they all knew what to do; they each stood their ground and prepared for attack.

One by one, each of the guards that had been walking the perimeter began to fall to enemy sniper fire. Invisible pinpoint beams of focused energy bored instant holes through their foreheads, dropping them into the tall grass. There were no cries of pain, no shouts for help, only instant death.

The automated turrets, however, each had their own internal power sources. Independently controlled by artificial intelligence algorithms, they frantically tracked back and forth along their designated fire zones, searching for targets of opportunity.

The tech operators in each team tossed small devices up into the air. The devices, each similar in proportion to a human finger, flew up and made their way in high arcs to the automated defense turrets. Each one attached itself to a turret’s control boxes. Seconds later, the operators activated the small devices. A flash of bluish-white light came from each device as it released its destructive energy into the turret’s control boxes, rendering them useless. The turrets stopped their frantic search for targets, no longer having any algorithms to follow. They would still be able to fire, but unless a target just happened to wander across their targeting point, they would be ineffective.

The teams all exited the tree line and dashed across the grassy perimeter, dropping at the edge of the outer fence. The first team’s tech operator pulled out a small canister with a twin nozzle applicator. He quickly sprayed a circle on the fence about a meter in diameter. The two chemical agents mixed and immediately dissolved the metal fencing, creating a neat series of cuts. The other team member pulled the loose piece of fencing back and laid it aside, creating an opening through which the tech operator passed, after which each of them followed. The process was repeated two more times in order to quickly pass through all three layers of the perimeter fence that was supposed to keep the missile base secure from intruders.

Within minutes, the intruders had swept through the small missile base and had executed the three dozen men inside. The entire operation had taken less than five minutes and had been virtually silent.

“Strike teams report Aitkenna missile base is secured, sir,” the lieutenant reported.

“Excellent,” Commander Dumar said. “Restore their operational controls and tell them to begin preparing their strike packages.”

“Yes sir.” Again the lieutenant signaled the operator whose implant light began to flash as he started restoring functionality to the Aitkenna missile base that was now under the control of the Takaran Anti-Insurgency Command.

* * *

Another aide burst into the room, announcing his urgent news in Corinairan as he entered. Before he could finish passing his message to the Prime Minister, the elder leader turned and exited the room, also in a hurry.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” the aide who had been acting as translator said in brisk fashion, “forgive us, but a matter of some urgency requires our attention.” He signaled the guards to withdraw before continuing. “We will return as soon as the situation allows.” With that, the aide also left the room, followed by the last two guards who closed the door behind them.

“Anybody feel the need to check the lock?” Jessica asked sarcastically.

“What the hell was that all about?” Nathan asked Tug.

“I did not hear everything,” Tug told him, “only the first few words before his superiors chastised the carrier of the message for speaking too openly.”

“They said something about the Aitkenna missile site,” Jalea added. “I believe it is under siege.”

“Yes, that’s what I heard as well,” Tug agreed.

Nathan could see the deep concern on both their faces. “What missiles?”

“The nuclear ones?” Jessica surmised, hoping she was incorrect.

“The ones they shot at the Yamaro?” Nathan said as he made the connection.

“Yes. If the Corinari have lost control of those missiles—” Tug began.

“I’m not liking the sound of this,” Jessica interrupted.

“Whose got control of them then?” Nathan asked.

“I did not hear them say,” Tug admitted. “Perhaps because they did not know themselves.”

“Any guesses?” Jessica asked.

“If the Followers of the Order have taken control, they could use them to destroy the Yamaro in an act of vengeance,” Jalea said.

“Possibly,” Tug said, although it was obvious by his tone that he did not feel that was the case.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Jessica argued.

“Vengeance seldom does,” Tug told her.

“But that ship is an asset,” she added. “Even without propulsion, it’s still an effective orbital weapons platform.”

“To you and I, yes. But to a group of angry Followers who just had their friends, family, homes… their very lives destroyed, that ship is a symbol of oppression. Destroying it would serve as a symbol of rebellion, a rallying cry if you will.”

“That doesn’t make it any less stupid,” Jessica said.

“But would the nukes even do the job?” Nathan asked.

“In its current state, without any shields to protect it, yes,” Tug assured him.

“We could call up to the ship, tell them to power up their shields,” Jessica suggested.

“That might be interpreted in an unfavorable light,” Jalea warned.

“Quite possibly,” Tug agreed.

“You said
if
it’s the Followers…” Nathan said.

“Yes. I do not believe the Followers of the Order are so militant in their nature. It’s more likely the Loyalists,” Tug said. “Which would mean their goal might be to destroy the Aurora.”

“After we saved their asses?” Nathan found the idea to be preposterous.

“They see you as the enemy of the Ta’Akar. Destroying you after a Ta’Akar ship failed to do so would be looked upon as an extreme demonstration of loyalty on the part of the Corinairans.”

“So the Ta’Akar wouldn’t come and finish the job the Yamaro started.”

“Yes.”

“There’s one other possibility,” Jalea offered with some hesitation.

Everyone looked at her, waiting for her to explain.

“The Loyalists could also use the missiles to strike other nations on Corinair.”

“What?” Nathan looked confused.

“She’s right,” Tug said, realizing the implications. “Captain, you have to understand the complexity of the Corinairan politics.”

“How about you give us the short version,” Nathan insisted. “I don’t think we have time for the long one.”

“There are five nation-states on Corinair,” Tug began. “Some are fiercely loyal to the Empire; others only pretend to be so. The division is roughly equal.”

“I thought this guy was the Prime Minister of the entire planet,” Jessica said.

“He is. Again, the politics are complex. There exists a structure of unity and cooperation between the nations, but it is somewhat delicate.”

“Sound familiar?” Jessica commented to Nathan.

“Unfortunately, each nation has its own missile bases. They are supposed to be for defense of each nation against aggression from space.”

“Aren’t the Ta’Akar supposed to do that?”

“Yes, but the Ta’Akar are not always close at hand, and interstellar communication, even within the cluster, takes weeks. And since the Karuzari have weakened the Ta’Akar over time, they were forced to provide the missile systems in order to appease the Corinairans as well as to live up to the terms of their original surrender.”

“The empire has to protect them,” Nathan surmised.

“Correct.”

“But why nuke themselves?” Nathan asked.

“I agree; it does not make sense,” Tug said, “unless the people that have taken control of the missile site are only pretending to be Loyalists.”

“The Ta’Akar?” Jessica wondered aloud.

“More specifically, their anti-insurgency teams. This nation, Hakai, is generally perceived as loyal to the empire.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Jessica commented.

“As I said, no one is openly disloyal to the empire. If the Ta’Akar agents use the missiles of Hakai to strike a nation perceived as disloyal, say, Melentor…”

“You’re talking about a nuclear war,” Nathan said ominously.

“There is no planetary government more unstable than one that is engaged in a nuclear war amongst its own nations,” Tug explained.

“The Ta’Akar agents would seize control after the last missiles had struck and take direct control of the planet,” Jalea concluded.

Tug looked at Nathan. “Captain, I believe that is the most likely scenario.”

“But you really don’t know for sure, do you?” Nathan said.

“No, I do not.”

Nathan sighed. “So, we’ve got three possible scenarios then. Loyalists looking to shoot us down. Followers looking to shoot the Yamaro down, or Takaran agents looking to start a nuclear war in order to seize control of the planet. This story just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it.”

“Captain, we need to contact the ship again, and pronto,” Jessica warned him.

“Yes, we should have them move the prisoners off the Yamaro and onto the Aurora, just in case.”

“No, you don’t understand. When I spoke with Vlad, he was complaining about how many systems were damaged.”

“Like what?” Nathan asked, his concern showing.

“He didn’t say, but he sounded really stressed. I know that we were only running on one reactor when we left. If they’re still running on only one reactor—”

“They couldn’t jump if they wanted to,” Nathan added.

“They’d be a sitting duck for those missiles,” Jessica said.

Nathan immediately went to the windows and started banging on them to get the attention of the guards. Within moments, the door opened.

“We need to speak with the Prime Minister right now,” he demanded. The guard looked at him with a puzzled expression until Jalea translated. The guard seemed reluctant to deliver the message, but Jalea argued the point until he finally gave in, closing the door again.

“He has agreed to deliver your request,” Jalea said, “but he cannot guarantee that the Prime Minister will come.”

Nathan watched through the windows as the guard went down the hallway, supposedly to deliver the message to the Prime Minister. “We need a plan,” he said as he watched the guard walk away, “a way to deal with the threat, in case the Corinairans can’t.”

“Or won’t,” Jessica added, drawing a look of concern from Nathan.

* * *

Five hundred kilometers west of Aitkenna at the Wellerton missile complex, the floodlights began to switch off one by one. This was followed by small flashes of blue-white light from the backs of each of the automated turrets that normally protected the base from intruders.

This particular base was located at the top of a rocky hill whose steep terrain made it impossible to take by ground. Instead, strike teams used a frontal assault on the main gate, bursting through it with a remotely controlled vehicle full of explosives. It was a trick that had been made infamous by the Karuzari and to this day remained an effective one.