Ep.#4 - "Freedom's Dawn" (The Frontiers Saga) (34 page)

The sergeant pushed his way forward between the men. They were packed into the cargo area of the small medevac shuttle, shoulder to shoulder. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he arrived in the cockpit. “The crazy bastard did it.” He turned and shouted toward the cargo bay. “It looks like we’re in business!”

* * *

“Sir, the medevac shuttle—”

Andre never finished his sentence as the lights on the bridge all went dark. A moment later, emergency lighting kicked in, washing the room in an amber-white glow.

“What’s happening?” de Winter demanded, suddenly standing and waving his little gun around to make sure none of the Aurora’s crew tried anything.

Both nobles guarding the room stepped forward, their weapons held high and ready.

Andre looked at his console. There were no lights, no displays. It was completely dead. He looked around the bridge. All the other consoles were also dead. He also noticed that the circulation fans had stopped, resulting in an unsettling lack of background noise.

“We’ve lost all power,” Andre said, not quite believing it was possible even though he was witnessing it happen.

“That’s not possible,” Captain de Winter.

“Apparently it is,” Andre disagreed.

“Maybe we damaged this ship more than we thought in the first place.”

“I don’t think so, sir,” Andre said. “Just before the power went out, I saw the medevac shuttle leaving the Yamaro.”

“Maybe their comms are down and they’re simply returning to report in person.”

“More likely they’ve failed and those are more of the Aurora’s crew returning,” Andre offered. “Either way, we’d better get someone down there.”

Andre didn’t wait for approval from Captain de Winter. “Bobby, Lian, double-time it for the hangar deck. We may have hostiles inbound. We’ll meet you there.”

“
Copy. We’re on our way
,” Bobby reported.

“
On my way,
” Lian reported from engineering.

Andre pointed at one of the nobles, “You, come with,” he ordered as he headed out.

“Wait!” de Winter shouted. “We need to hold this bridge!”

“There’s only three of them, two of which are women. The two of you are armed. Besides, if they are attacking we need to stop them while they’re still bottled up in the shuttle.”

* * *

The lights in the medical treatment room all went out at once, plunging the room into complete darkness. Lieutenant Brayerton had been standing at the foot of Commander Taylor’s bed in order to keep an eye on what the doctors were up to as they treated the patient while still keeping an eye on everyone else in the room.

“NOBODY MOVE!” the lieutenant ordered, his voice slightly panicked. There was an electronic whine that started low in pitch. It was coming from his left, where the doctors had been working on their patient. The whine quickly rose in tone and within two seconds it was inaudible to the human ear.

The emergency lighting kicked in, flooding the room with dim, amber-hued light coming from battery-powered lighting in the upper corners of the room. When the lieutenant’s eyes managed to refocus in the subdued lighting, he realized someone was holding two oval metal objects up to his face and coming at him. The objects were attached to the wall next to the gurney with long, coiled, insulated wires.

“CLEAR!” Doctor Chen shouted. There was a blue flash of light as energy leapt from the defibrillator paddles in the doctor’s hands to the lieutenant’s face. A loud
pop
was heard and the Takaran nobleman fell in a heap to the floor.

A nearby patient moved into action, nearly falling out of his bed as he did so. His monitoring leads pulled loose from his body and started setting off alarms on the bio-monitor on the wall above his bed. His IV line ripped free from the puncture site on the inside of his elbow, sending blood trickling down his arm as he stumbled over and nearly fell on top of the unconscious enemy lieutenant. The man used his good arm to pull the rifle away from the Takaran and remove his handgun from his holster, tossing it to Cassandra who stood nearby watching in shock.

“Nice move, Doc,” the crewman congratulated her. “But why’d you warn him?”

“What?” Doctor Chen asked. She was standing there, still holding the defibrillator paddles in her hands, stunned by the fact that she had just sent three hundred joules of electrical energy into a man’s head.

“Clear?” the crewman reminded her.

“Oh, that. Just habit I guess.” She looked at the paddles, realized that she no longer need them, and set them back into their hooks on the wall of Commander Taylor’s treatment cubicle.

“Are you okay, Doctor?” Cassandra asked, noticing the look on Doctor Chen’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she promised, her composure returning. “Give me that,” she ordered, taking the handgun from Cassandra. “We should check the corridor for others.”

* * *

“They’ve fired,” the lieutenant announced. “We’re tracking four scooters headed for the Aitkenna site.”

Commander Dumar didn’t even raise his head. “Has the Aitkenna site launched?”

“Wait one,” the lieutenant said, raising his hand with one finger as he listened to reports coming in over his comm-set.

Commander Dumar grew impatient. “Lieutenant?”

“Confirmed, sir. Aitkenna base reports four good launches. We have control of all four, and the team is bugging out now. They’ve got one minute to get clear before the incoming missiles take out the base.”

“Very well,” the commander sighed. If the Aurora was still in good shape, there was a pretty good chance she would either jump away before the missiles struck, or power out of orbit under normal propulsion. Either way she would avoid destruction. There was nothing he could do about it now. Either it would work or it would not. At least the Yamaro would be destroyed, as she had neither the shields nor the propulsion to avoid her fate. Either way, this would all be over in ten minutes.

* * *

Ensign Willard stood at the forward end of the tightly packed cargo compartment of the medevac shuttle. “Gentlemen, listen up! A man on the inside has managed to shut the Aurora completely down, so we’re going into a dark ship with minimal emergency lighting. We have no idea what to expect. We know that there are at least twelve enemy targets on board, but there could be more, a lot more. We do not expect any of the Aurora’s surviving crew to be armed, so if you see someone with a weapon, kill them on the spot. And no boomers; we don’t know enough about this ship to know where it’s safe to use them and where it’s not. So leave them behind just to be safe.”

Willard looked at the men, who were all standing at packed into the small cabin shoulder to shoulder. “We have to assume they know we’re coming, so expect heavy resistance when the doors open. Your best chance of survival is to get out of the ship quickly and spread out. Find cover as quickly as you can.” Willard looked around again, then looked forward toward Sergeant Weatherly in the cockpit. The sergeant held up one finger. Willard turned back toward the men. “One minute!”

He looked over the volunteers. They were all Corinairans, with the exception of three men from Earth and one rather large Omotossan. They were all young, mostly between the ages of twenty to twenty five. They had all gone through basic combat training at the beginning of their forced service to the Ta'Akar, but none of them had the type of training required for what they were about to attempt. He wished at that moment that he had a shuttle full of Corinari warriors, who were highly trained and ready to give their lives in defense of their world. Nevertheless, these men, despite their inadequate training, were about to make the same sacrifice. They deserved the same respect, and the same pride.

From the front of the compartment, Ensign Willard straightened up and shouted, “CORINARI!”

In unison, the volunteers responded “HUP! HUP! HUP!”

Dexter and Sal stood at the back of the shuttle. Each of them looked at the other.

“I don’t think we’re in the most favored position back here, Sal,” Dexter said.

“Yeah, you could be right about that.”

“Relax, guys,” the Omotossan told them. “At least you’ll die fighting for your own world instead of someone else’s.”

Dexter turned and looked over his shoulder at the Omotossan. “Thanks. That helps a lot, really.”

* * *

“How did we do?” Nathan asked Jessica as they made their way back through the corridors to the command center.

“Tug did fine,” she said. “You, on the other hand, said way too much, as usual,” Jessica smiled at him, “exactly as I figured you would.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that I didn’t go into politics,” Nathan admitted. “I don’t think that speech is going to move any mountains.”

“Do not worry, Captain,” Tug said. “I believe your straight-to-the-point style will have the desired effect.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nathan said as they entered the command center again.

Without warning, cheering erupted from the main floor below them. Nathan and the others looked to the main display screen. All the missile tracks had vanished.

“What happened?” Nathan asked.

“The Hakai missiles were destroyed,” Tug realized by listening to the chatter as they entered the room. He was obviously surprised himself. “The Melentorans must have re-targeted to intercept the incoming missiles only, instead of retaliating against Hakai.”

“Perhaps your speech had the desired effect after all,” the Prime Minister’s aide offered.

“Well at least one country on this rock doesn’t have their head up their ass,” Jessica said, quite loudly.

The Prime Minister’s aide turned to her as he spoke. “I’m not sure how the word
ass
translates into Corinairan. I expect it would be best not to try.”

The cheers were short-lived as another launch alarm sounded. Nathan already knew what that sound meant, his head turning to the left to look at the main display screens in the room below. Four stubby lines appeared coming from the Aitkenna missile site.

“Now what?” Nathan asked.

“The Aitkenna missile site has launched,” the aide stated.

“Who are they targeting?”

“We do not yet know. They are still climbing.”

“What does that mean?” Nathan asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“Either their target is on the other side of the planet, or it’s—”

“—orbital,” Nathan finished for him. “We need to contact my ship.”

“Yes, of course, Captain,” the aide promised, signaling to one of the technicians in the room. “Immediately.”

“I thought you were going to take out that base.” Jessica wondered aloud.

“We are trying,” the aide defended. “As you can see, the interceptors have already launched their missiles.”

“Too late,” Jessica scolded.

One of the communications technicians spoke to the aide in Corinairan.

“What did he say?” Nathan asked.

“The Aurora is not answering their hails,” Tug translated.

“We will continue trying, Captain,” the aide assured him.

Nathan felt a cold chill go down his spine.

* * *

“TEN SECONDS!” Willard shouted from the front of the medevac’s cargo bay.

As the boarding ramp began to lower, Dexter closed his eyes, not wanting to see the deadly shot that he was sure was about to hit him; but nothing happened, except that he was pushed forward by the Omotossan behind him. He opened his eyes and charged down the ramp, raising his weapon to firing position as he descended. Sal was to his right as they descended the boarding ramp together, followed by the rest of the Corinari volunteers. Each column peeled off in opposite directions, fanning out on either side of the shuttle.

The medevac shuttle had rolled straight into the middle of the dimly lit hangar bay. Vladimir had been correct in his assumptions; the entire transfer process through the airlock had been completely automated, the system being powered by its own emergency power generation systems that activated when the system sensed a ship trying to enter the hangar. Luckily, it had assumed they were a rescue ship. The flight crew of the medevac shuttle watched through the front windows as the men disembarked out the rear. So far, they saw no signs of the enemy, but that would change in a moment.

Bobby was not an amateur. He had taken one of the agents with him to the starboard side of the hangar bay and sent the other agent to port, hoping to trap whoever was trying to come on board in a crossfire. Had the boarding party come up the center of the bay, his plan would have worked beautifully. However, the volunteers from the Yamaro’s crew had come out of the back of the shuttle and immediately spread to either side of the bay looking for cover.

Bobby stepped into the hatchway of the dimly lit hangar deck and immediately opened fire on the column of men coming around the starboard side of the medevac shuttle. He had already taken out three men when the other agent stepped in next to him and joined in the attack. Within seconds, half the starboard column was either dead or injured, and the rest were scrambling for cover that simply wasn’t there. The best they could do was hug the bulkheads of the hangar bay, trying to tuck in behind the vertical beams protruding slightly from the walls. Unable to step out to take aim, the volunteers simply held out their weapons and fired blindly. Since most of them were technicians who hadn’t fired a weapon since basic training years ago, their fire was ineffective at best.

Red and amber bolts of energy danced back and forth between the two forces for several minutes. On either side of the massive bay, the volunteers were pinned up against the walls with no decent cover from which to effectively return fire. The only good cover was toward the front of the hangar bay, and the enemy firing positions were between the volunteers and the forward end of the bay. It was only a matter of time until they were picked off one by one.

“
We’ve got them pinned down in the aft end of the hangar deck!
” Bobby reported over his comm-set.

“We’re approaching medical!” Andre responded as they jogged down the corridor headed aft. “We’ll be there in two minutes!”