The Legend of Corinair (4 page)

“Not at all, Captain,” Tug answered.

Nathan instantly got the feeling that, unlike previous meetings, Jalea would not be taking the lead in these discussions.

“Last night, I shared much with you about Earth. In fact, you probably know more about our world than anyone in this sector.”

“Yes, it was most enlightening.”

“I was hoping that you might shed similar light on the affairs in your part of the galaxy.”

“That’s a tall order, Captain. Could you be more specific?”

Nathan wasn’t sure if Tug was trying to force him to ask more specific questions in order to avoid revealing information unnecessarily—as Jessica had advised Nathan to do—or if he was just wanting to know where to start. “I guess I’m primarily interested in two things,” Nathan began. “First, about the rebellion, or more specifically, the battle we jumped into when we first arrived in the Pentaurus cluster.”

Tug adjusted himself in his chair, as if preparing to make a speech. “As I explained last night, the battle you were caught up in was the last stand for the rebellion. In recent years, the Ta’Akar have become more ruthless in their dealings with both the Karuzari and those that support us. Entire communities have been erased from existence as punishment for offering aid to our people, and as a warning to those that might still consider such actions.”

“Were you at that battle?”

“No. I was wounded some months ago in another engagement, and was still recuperating. What I know of the incident I learned through Jalea.”

“Any idea how the Ta’Akar knew where to find your people?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Tug admitted.

Again, Nathan felt as if he were being forced to ask direct questions in order to get the information he needed out of Tug. “Is it possible that someone within your organization sold you out?”

Tug looked at Nathan, unsure of the meaning of his expression. Jalea leaned into him and whispered a translation. “There were only three people that knew the location of the new base,” Tug explained. “Myself, Marak, and Jalea. Each of us was responsible for gathering the remaining cells and bringing them together for a last attempt to obtain a larger, more powerful ship—a tactical advantage that we have always hoped for but never achieved. Even the pilots did not know their destination until the final leg of the journey, at which point communication with the Ta’Akar would’ve been impossible.”

“Couldn’t a message have been sent after you arrived?”

“It is possible,” Tug admitted, “but such a message would require specialized equipment, which we did not have. And any message sent by standard methods would’ve taken far longer to reach its destination. The attack came too swiftly for that to have been the case.”

“Then that leaves only the two of you and Marak—who is dead—as potential suspects,” Nathan pointed out. He knew that the statement would not bring a reaction from Jalea. She had proven herself far too disciplined in the past for him to expect such behavior. But he had hoped for some telltale sign from Tug, who seemed a bit more open with his body language. However, Tug seemed to take the accusation in stride, as if it had been expected.

“Yes, this is true. Of course it goes without saying that I have complete trust in the loyalty of both Marak and Jalea.”

“No offense intended to either of them, Tug,” Jessica interrupted. “But such trusted individuals usually make the best informants.”

“That is true,” Tug conceded. “But neither of them had any motivation for betrayal. And, I might add, that such suspicions have also been an integral part of our tactics. And to that end, I had not revealed the location of our new base to either of my subordinates until the last possible moment, after which a communications blackout was put into effect.”

“If you trusted your subordinates, why did you feel it necessary to take such precautions?” Nathan asked.

“While trust can be a wonderful thing, it can also be the most destructive of weapons,” Tug explained. “Only a fool places complete trust in anyone, even themselves.”

“They must have spies on the ground,” Jessica concluded.

“This is the most likely reason,” Jalea agreed. “It has been suspected for some time that the Ta’Akar have developed an extensive network of spies with which to monitor every inhabited world within the cluster. We have even found them operating in fringe systems no longer under their control.”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, contemplating all that he had heard thus far. “What concerns me most is how quickly they learned of your location.”

“The Ta’Akar have recently developed a system of interstellar communications that utilizes a network of small, automated communication drones,” Tug explained. “These drones utilize an advanced version of their standard FTL systems, enabling them to travel at several hundred times the speed of light. With most stars within the cluster being only a few light years apart, messages can now be exchanged in days rather than weeks or even months. When combined with strategically placed ships—say in between systems—it gives them a tactical advantage that is proving to be difficult to overcome.”

“We believe that a nearby warship received information about the location of our base, and took immediate action without waiting for orders from the Ta’Akar homeworld. He undoubtedly saw it as an opportunity to advance himself in rank. Thankfully, your sudden arrival ruined his career plans.”

The faint smile on her lips was the first sign of emotion Nathan had seen from Jalea since he entered the room. “That would explain the swift arrival of reinforcements,” Nathan concluded. Jalea affirmed his conclusion with a simple nod. “So how many people survived the attack?”

“To our knowledge, other than the ships that came aboard the Aurora, only three other ships escaped. I would estimate there are only twenty surviving members of the Karuzari.”

“Out of how many?”

“There were over two hundred Karuzari on the surface, not including families, which numbered twice as many. They too were exterminated.”

Nathan could do little to hide his shock. “Why would they bother with the families?”

“Some believe it was to ensure that there were no survivors who might someday seek to avenge the deaths of loved ones,” Jalea stated. There was a bitterness in her tone that Nathan found surprising. He noticed Tug placing his hand on her arm, as a subtle warning.

“Captain,” Tug interrupted. The Ta’Akar lost many ships and crew over the years. And it has put an increasing strain on their industrial infrastructure. It has also forced them to require mandatory service for all of appropriate age. These two factors have led to a steady downfall in the quality of both their weapons, and the training of the people that use them. Over time, they have gradually moved away from surgical strikes—which require more costly weapons—to more widespread assault tactics, with little concern over collateral damage. At first, this trend outraged their citizens. But as the aggressiveness of the Ta’Akar increased, the outrage was replaced by fear—fear for one’s very survival. Although this may not have been by design, it has also led to a drastic decline in support for the Karuzari. In fact, on more than one occasion, the Ta’Akar have managed to place the blame for such collateral damages upon us, making the Karuzari appear more as terrorists than revolutionaries.”

“Then your support is fading?”

“No one likes the regime of Caius, Captain. But after so many years of war, the people long for order once again, even if that order is delivered by an iron fist.”

“But with this ship—” Jalea began, enthusiasm rising in her voice.

“Jalea,” Tug interrupted sternly, “we are here to answer the
Captain’s
questions.”

It was obvious to Nathan, as well as to everyone in the room, that Jalea and Tug desperately hoped to get the Aurora, more specifically her jump drive, on their side. And although he thus far found Tug to be a brave and honorable man, his opinion of Jalea was quite the opposite.

“That’s all right,” Nathan assured him. “We’ll get to that. But before we do, I’d like to know more about this power source you spoke of.”

“The Royal Institute of Sciences on Takara conducts all manner of research under grants by the royal family. They claim to have created a working prototype of a zero-point reactor. The prototype itself, although reported to be a bit unstable, is capable of generating massive amounts of nearly limitless energy. They are reported to be working on a more reliable production model. Once completed, they will begin refitting existing ships. The ships will be faster, more powerful, and will have much better shielding than before. And their energy weapons will also be significantly enhanced. In a word, they will be unstoppable. And as you can surely imagine, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I believe that if they are allowed to complete its development, they will once again expand beyond the Pentaurus cluster, and will eventually dominate most, if not all of the galaxy.”

“That seems like a rather far-fetched prediction,” Nathan said.

“Captain, for a civilization to rapidly expand, it requires three key elements—infrastructure, resources, and energy. The Ta’Akar have the first two, and are about to have the third, in abundance I might add.”

“There’s one more element required,” Nathan told him. “Desire.”

“Oh, Caius has the desire, Captain.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You must trust me on this, Captain. Of this I am quite certain.”

Tug’s assertions only made Nathan more curious. This man had led a rebellion against
Caius
for more than two decades—maybe longer, as Nathan had no idea how their
years
translated into Earth years. But there was quite a bit of emotion evident in his assertion, and it made him wonder if it was simply the result of so many years of fighting, or if there was something deeper to his convictions.

After a brief pause, Nathan continued. “I feel it only fair to warn you that we have not yet decided what our best course of action might be. Some of us feel we should immediately leave the area and begin the long process of jumping our way back home. Others speculate that this new power source might get us home much faster.”

Tug considered Nathan’s words before asking his question. “And on which side of this debate do you reside?”

Tug’s diplomatic skills had not gone unnoticed by Nathan. The man who had once presented himself as a simple farmer was not a stranger to the delicacies of negotiations. Nathan had spent many mind-numbing hours witnessing such exchanges during summer internships with his father, the senator. He could recognize a skilled orator when he heard one.

“I believe we have insufficient information on which to base such a decision. However, as long as our individual goals remain compatible, I am not opposed to working together to our mutual benefit.”

“What additional information do you require?”

“No offense, Tug, but we need to independently confirm your claims about this zero-point reactor.”

“That should not be difficult, Captain. As I explained before, although the research facility is highly secure, information about its progress has been freely available, as a panacea for the masses. There are news broadcasts about its progress on at least a weekly basis throughout the cluster.”

“We’ll also need to know more about Ta’Akar forces.”

Now there was an obvious emotional response from Jalea. “Then you’ll join us?”

“Let’s just say that I have not dismissed the idea just yet.”

“We will provide all that we know, Captain,” Tug added.

“Thank you. In the meantime, I have other business to attend. So if you wouldn’t mind discussing these matters with my security chief, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course not, Captain. We have recently become good friends,” Tug said with a smile.

CHAPTER 2

The medical department was once again in shambles. Although not as bad as before, the sense of order that Doctor Chen and her staff of mostly volunteers had establish was strained to the point of breaking. To accommodate the influx of additional casualties resulting from the battle in the hangar bay, the young doctor had been forced to move most of her still recuperating patients into nearby quarters that had been converted into makeshift hospital rooms.

The battle was nearly three hours past by now, and though the situation appeared to be under control, the main treatment area was again in a state of disrepair. The initial chaos that had immediately followed the battle was under control, and Doctor Chen had done what she could for the wounded. Now, as before, it was mostly a waiting game to see how many of them would survive.

As Nathan walked through the treatment area, the first thing that struck him was that most of the wounded were not his crew. They were the workers that had been hired to harvest the rings to maintain their cover. In fact, of the eight patients currently being treated, six of them were workers from Haven. Nathan was suddenly struck with a sense of guilt. These people had been wounded—many of them had died—because of his decision to bring the Aurora to Haven. True, he had been following the advice of Tobin and Jalea. But in the end, it was all his responsibility, and he had to wonder: was it worth it? Furthermore, did he even have the right to make that decision? These were not members of his crew, after all. These were civilians, and not even of his own world.

He braced himself as he made his way through the treatment area, expecting to be overcome with nausea just as before, but it didn’t come. That’s when he realized that, while he felt guilty for what had happened to them, he didn’t feel responsible for their deaths. He hadn’t known that he was putting them into harm’s way. Tobin knew; it was he who was responsible for the fate that befell them. Suddenly, Nathan was no longer troubled by Jalea’s execution of the
skinny little shit—
as Jessica had referred to him.

He reached the utility room on the far side of the treatment area, half expecting to find Doctor Chen sitting in the corner nibbling on dried fruit and nuts as usual. But the room was empty—a mess, but empty.