Ep.#1 - "Escalation" (The Frontiers Saga: Rogue Castes) (15 page)

Two things were already obvious to Travon Dumar, a retired commander of the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance. The Jung had jump drives, and they had used them to invade the Darvano system. Travon was sure that the same thing was happening in every other inhabited system within the cluster, if not the entire sector. And if the Jung had only invaded the cluster thus far, the rest of the sector would soon follow.

The moment the reports had started coming in a few hours ago, Travon had gone into the secret room in his basement, and turned on the deep-space transceiver that had been given to him by Suvan Navarro, Captain of the Avendahl. He had no idea whether or not anyone would attempt to contact him, but if they did, he wanted to be ready.

His wife, of course, had objections to his even owning the transceiver, let alone turning it back on. She had forgiven his decades of deception, during which she had believed him to be working in importing and exporting, when the reality was that he had been commanding a covert, imperial anti-insurgent task force on Corinair. She also forgave him for being gone for three years while he commanded the Alliance forces in Sol, leading them in their rebellion and eventual stalemate against the Jung Empire. But now, with their world under attack by an even bigger threat than the old Takaran Empire, it was time for him to lay low. They were both getting older. It was time for the younger generations to step up and defend their worlds. She wanted him here, with her, running their little resort by the lake. He owed her that much.

“What is going to happen to us?” she asked quietly, as she snuggled up to him on the couch.

“Nothing,” Travon assured her. “The Jung don’t want to kill us. They want our infrastructure and our economy to remain intact. They want us to produce what they need to continue their expansion. Destroying our cities, our factories, our worlds…it does not serve them.” He paused a moment, looking in her eyes.

“What?” she asked, noticing his worried expression.

“If we disobey, they are most ruthless in their punishment. They will only put up with so much. It is a mathematical equation to them. Pure accounting. Profit and loss. If dealing with us proves too costly, they will simply wipe the planet clean and start over, populating it with their own people instead.”

“Seriously?”

“I have seen them do this before,” Travon told her. “They tried to do just that with Earth.”

“It’s difficult to imagine,” she said, looking back at the view screen. “Even Caius Ta’Akar wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, he was,” Travon replied. “You just didn’t see it. He was a master at media control and propaganda. And at outright purchasing the loyalty of those who might someday oppose him. The same animal, wrapped in different skins.”

Travon’s comm-unit beeped. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

“What is it?” his wife asked.

“I must go to the basement,” Travon apologized as he rose. “I am receiving a message. A message from a ship in space.”

She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“It is only a message, nothing more. It could be a warning, one that could save our very lives.”

She wasn’t buying it. “Or one that will suck you back into the same world you promised me you had said goodbye to once and for all.”

“It is only a message. An incoming one at that. It cannot harm us.”

“Not directly, no,” she admitted. “It’s the events that follow the message that concern me.”

“I promised you that I would never leave you behind again…”

“You promised me that you would stay
here
, Travon,” she corrected.

“And it is a promise that I intend to keep, until my dying day,” he assured her as he backed away from the couch, turned, and headed into the kitchen.

Travon passed through the kitchen and into the storm porch. He closed the inside door behind him, then removed his coat from its hook on the wall behind the door. With his free hand, he twisted the coat hook to the left, and the two vertical panels of wood parted, revealing stairs that led downward. Travon headed down the stairs, pressing a button on his way that closed the panels behind him, hiding the entrance once again. The lights snapped on, and the room below came into view.

The area itself was surprisingly large, with storage lockers on one side, a door that led to a bathroom, and several bunks. On the far side of the room was a gun rack, loaded with every conceivable weapon, most of which were not legal.

Travon moved to the workbench along one of the walls. The screen on the transceiver was glowing, displaying a short string of characters that made no sense. Just a collection of random numbers and letters. He knew the message had to be encrypted, for anyone sending him a message in such fashion would undoubtedly have a military background, most likely one in covert operations such as himself.

Travon immediately set to work attempting to decipher the message. He still had the old encryption algorithms used by the Alliance during his command, but he would have to figure out the starting value for the algorithm. He started with the obvious choices: his wedding anniversary and the birth dates of his two children. He fed the values into the system, and then had it try all two hundred algorithms using each of the dates.

The characters on the screen began to change, shifting as each algorithm tried to create a discernible message using each of the three dates he had entered. After several seconds, a readable message finally appeared.

Twenty-one alpha tango, version two five two. Date of Tug’s death.

Travon checked the transceiver. There were two more messages in the buffer. That’s when he realized that the message was not a message at all, but rather the first step in the decoding process. He quickly called up the next message, selected the indicated algorithm, and then entered the date of his friend’s untimely demise. The second message immediately decoded.

Eighty-seven whiskey mike, version three five seven. Date of Na-Tan’s death.

Travon Dumar smiled. He could only think of a handful of people that he knew who still resided in this part of the galaxy. Fewer still who would know the date on which Nathan Scott, the mythical savior known as
Na-Tan
in the Book of Origins, had been executed by the Jung as a war criminal.

He selected the next decryption algorithm and entered the date of Nathan Scott’s execution.

But the message did not decrypt.

Travon entered the date again, but with the same negative result. He looked down for a moment.
Did I get the date wrong?
It didn’t seem possible, since it was a date he would never forget. For he, then Admiral Travon Dumar, had been the one who had put the young captain into the very situation that led to his surrender and eventual execution. He had not known that it would happen, but he knew the mission would be a dangerous one. Perhaps the most dangerous mission Captain Scott had ever faced.

He checked again. The date was correct, but still the message refused to decode. Then he remembered something. Something that Commander Telles had said to him at Nathan’s memorial service back on Earth. ‘Legends never die.’

Travon entered zero as the algorithm’s starting value, and the message appeared. His eyes grew wide as he read the message. When he finished, he glanced at the clock on the wall. He had very little time before he had to answer the message, and much to do before then. It would require many steps to ensure that the Jung could not trace the call and discern his location. Although he doubted any such measures would be taken so soon after their initial invasion, it was a chance he could not take. Many lives were at stake, and not just those of himself and his dear wife.

* * *

“Just make sure you get this damn ship fixed as quickly as possible,” Marcus said as the last of the cargo containers were rolled down
the Seiiki’s cargo ramp. “I don’t want to stay on this dusty-ass rock any longer than need be.”

“It’s going to take us a couple days, at least, Marcus,” Dalen warned. “You could help, you know, seeing as you’re in such a hurry and all.”

“I don’t fit in those crawl spaces very well,” Marcus shrugged. “I’ll leave that to you and Josh.” Marcus looked around. “Where the hell did he get to?”

“I don’t know,” Dalen replied, picking up the cargo straps from the deck to stow them. “Maybe he went with Nellie for supplies?”

“Josh, voluntarily going with Nellie?” Marcus sneered. “Not likely.”

“With the captain, then?”

“Captain left the moment we touched down, before Josh shut everything down.”

“
Hey!
” a voice called from outside.

Marcus turned to look down the ramp, but saw no one who looked like they were shouting for his attention.

“
Hey!
” the voice called again. It was Josh’s voice.

Marcus headed down the cargo ramp, looking for Josh, followed by Dalen. As he neared the bottom of the ramp, he spotted Josh running across the busy space port, dodging cargo carts and other workers.

“Hey! Marcus!” Josh yelled as he approached, panting.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“The Jung,” Josh said in between breaths. “They’ve captured… the entire… cluster… Everything… all at once… I heard.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Dalen asked.

“I was at the port controller’s office, updating our time fixes and charts. I heard them talking.”

“Talk is just talk, boy. You know that,” Marcus said, waving him off.

“No, it’s true.”

“How do you know that?”

Josh paused a moment to catch his breath. “While I was there, word came through on the comm-jumper. Takara, Corinair, Savoy, Taroa, Korak…”

“What about Dobson?” Dalen wondered.

“Dobson, Haydon, Devi, Borne,” Josh continued. “All of them. The Jung took’em all, Marcus. I’m telling you. And every damned one of their ships, big and small… They all got fucking jump drives.”

“So? What does that mean?” Dalen said, still confused. “I mean, I know the Jung are bad guys, but…”

“Imagine Caius, but a hundred times worse, and with a hundred times more ships and troops,” Marcus explained.

“I was ten when Caius fell, Marcus,” Dalen reminded him.

“Trust me, kid, this is bad news… Very bad news.”

Josh looked at Marcus. “What do we do?”

“What do you mean, what do we do?” Marcus asked.

Josh looked around, his brow furrowing. “Do we tell him?”

“I’m pretty sure the captain already knows about the Jung invasion, there, Josh,” Dalen remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “They did shoot at us a few hours ago, remember?”

Marcus and Josh exchanged knowing glances.

“He’s right,” Marcus said. “Besides, he’s in the load master’s office, so he’s probably already heard.”

“Right,” Josh replied, realizing his error.

“Best thing we can do is to keep the captain and the rest under wraps as best we can,” Marcus explained. “I never thought I’d say this, but Haven is probably the best place for us right now, all things considered.”

“Why is that?” Josh asked.

“Because there ain’t shit here on Haven that the Jung would give a damn about, so it’s the last place they’ll waste time invading.”

* * *

Doran Montrose’s comm-unit beeped, alerting him to an incoming call. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his comm-unit and looked at its display screen.

“W
ho is it?” Yanni wondered.

“There is no ID,” Doran replied, concern in his tone.

“Are you going to answer it?”

Doran activated his comm-unit and held it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“
Doran?
” the caller’s voice greeted. “
It’s Ardum.
”

“Hello, Ardum,” Doran replied hesitantly, still unsure of who was speaking to him.

“
I’ve been trying to get through for nearly an hour,
” the caller exclaimed. “
Are you guys alright? Are your children home and safe?
”

“Yes, yes, they are,” Doran replied. “And yours?” he asked, fishing for information that might help him identify the caller. The voice was garbled, but seemed familiar.

“
They are fine. We are all fine. Did your sister’s family arrive safely as well? And their friends?
”

“Yes, they are all here with us.”

“
And the baby? She is uninjured?
”

“Yes, the baby is fine.” Doran looked at Yanni, furrowing his brow and shaking his head, still not knowing the identity of the caller.

“
That is wonderful. Terribly frightening what is happening, is it not?
”

“Yes, it is. Will you be alright, Ardum? Do you need anything?”

“
No, thank you. We are planning on going to our cabin in the mountains, until things settle down. We have supplies there… Several months worth, in fact. You and yours are more than welcome to join us.
”

“I appreciate the offer, Ardum. When will you be leaving?”

“
The sooner the better, I would imagine. No later than tomorrow, I think.
”

“I will discuss it with my wife and the others, and let you know.”

“
Yes, please do. And if you cannot reach me directly, try my niece, Jessica. I spoke with her earlier, and she plans to call me back soon. You may have better luck contacting her, as she is using an exchange that is not as busy.
”

“I’ll remember that,” Doran promised.

“
Be safe,
” the caller said before disconnecting.

Doran deactivated his comm-unit and looked at Yanni.

“Who was it?”

“Somebody named Ardum.” Doran looked at Yanni again. “I don’t know anyone named Ardum.”

“There’s an Ardum in legal. Could it be him?”

“I don’t even know the guy,” Doran replied. “This guy was talking like we were old friends.”

“What did he say?”

“He wanted to know if my wife’s family and friends arrived safely, and about the baby.”

“Ailsa?” Lael wondered. “Did he ask about her by name?”

“No, but he did know she was a girl.” Doran’s comm-unit played an alert tone. “I’ve got a message,” he said, looking at the comm-unit again. “It’s from the same guy, Ardum.”