Frontiers Saga 10: Liberation (26 page)

The shuttle rose, gaining forward speed as it ascended. The deadly rain of energy weapons fire now over, the few surviving Jung soldiers rose from their positions and ran toward their disabled vehicle, its front still burning. The most senior of the men barked orders in Jung to the others as they scrambled to pull a large weapon out of the back of the damaged truck. Two Jung soldiers quickly carried the large weapon past the burning front end of the truck into the edge of the clearing, then stopped and deployed its tripod base. As one soldier steadied the base, the other soldier swung the weapon around to point it at the climbing shuttle. The senior officer continued to urge them on, hurrying them to fire the weapon before it was too late. As the weapon began to charge, a faint, blue-white light began to quickly spill over the departing shuttle’s hull, pouring out from small emitters. In the same second as the blue-white flash was about to reach its peak, the Jung soldiers fired their weapon. A ball of yellow light streaked away from the weapon, striking the shuttle in its port aft turbine. The shuttle rolled onto its left side as its back end kicked out to the right. The blue-white light instantly disappeared, and the shuttle’s nose went down. Seconds later, it disappeared behind the trees, followed by a crash, a massive cloud of smoke and dust, and the bright, orange flash of an explosion.

* * *

“Captain, both frigates have gone to FTL,” Mister Navashee reported from the Aurora’s sensor station.

“Last range?” Nathan wondered.

“Ninety light seconds.”

“One or all of them are going to come out of FTL in front of us,” Nathan said. “Let’s make another course change, Mister Chiles. Twenty degrees up relative to the ecliptic.”

“Twenty degrees up relative, aye,” the helmsman answered. “Mains are still running at full power. Current speed is fifty thousand kilometers per second and increasing.”

“Damage control reports power restored to forward rail guns, sir,” Naralena reported.

“Very well.” Nathan looked about the bridge as he waited for the Jung to execute their next move. Either his enemy believed the false intelligence Jessica had planted on Tony’s body and were trying to get them to use up the last of the jump energy, or they were testing that intelligence before committing to a full-on battle. Either way, his plan was working. They were keeping the Jung ships away from the Celestia, buying her time to disappear into the cold darkness of space.

Nathan rotated aft in his command chair. “Did we receive an updated status report on the Jung ships still in orbit over Earth the last time the Falcon was near?”

“Yes, sir,” Mister Randeen answered. “The battleship and the cruiser we damaged during the previous engagement were still in orbit.”

“That was, what, fifteen minutes ago?”

“Twenty minutes, forty seconds,” Mister Randeen corrected.

“Contact!” Mister Navashee reported. “Off our starboard beam, well below!”

“It’s the cruiser, sir,” Mister Randeen added. “She’s matching our old course and speed.” Mister Randeen smiled as he looked at the captain. “They thought they would come out right next to us.”

Nathan smiled back.

“Contact is turning with us and accelerating,” Mister Navashee announced.

“They’re trying to move closer,” Mister Randeen surmised.

“Multiple contacts!” Mister Navashee reported. “Four missiles inbound! Impact in eighty seconds!”

“Point-defenses,” Nathan ordered.

“Already firing,” Mister Randeen answered.

“Helm, thirty degrees to port and continue pitching up,” Nathan ordered. “Try to keep them from getting alongside us.”

“One missile down,” Mister Randeen announced.

“Lock four missiles on the cruiser and fire when ready,” Nathan ordered.

“Locking missiles on target,” Mister Randeen answered as his fingers entered the commands. “Firing four! Time to target: one minute…”

“Contact!” Mister Navashee interrupted. “Frigate!”

“Two missiles destroyed!”

“We’re turning right into the frigate, Captain!”

“Helm, reverse your turn and pull up hard!” Nathan ordered.

“Reversing my turn! Pulling up hard, aye,” Mister Chiles answered.

“Three down!” Mister Randeen announced.

“Third contact!” Mister Navashee reported. “The other frigate!”

“Where is she?” Nathan demanded.

“High and to starboard!”

“Fourth inbound missile destroyed,” Mister Randeen reported.

Nathan glanced up at the tactical display on the side of the main view screen as the last of the Aurora’s missiles were destroyed by the Jung cruiser’s point-defenses. “Helm, turn into the third contact. Tactical, stand by snapshot on tubes two and four with nukes.”

“Turning into the third target,” Mister Chiles answered.

“Loading two and four with nukes.”

“How long until our nose is on target?” Nathan asked his helmsman.

“Ten seconds.”

Nathan turned and looked at Mister Randeen.

“No problem, sir,” Mister Randeen answered.

“Multiple contacts!” Mister Navashee reported. “Four missiles inbound from contact two! Impact in eighty seconds!”

“Turn complete!” the helmsman reported.

“Two and four, snapshot!” Mister Randeen announced. “Torpedoes away! Time to target: forty seconds!”

“Pitch down ten and roll us to port!” Nathan ordered. “Tactical, all point-defenses on the inbounds. Pound both frigates with our top and bottom quads as we pass between them.”

“Aye, sir!” Mister Randeen reported. “Quads firing!”

Nathan felt vibrations in the deck.

“Taking heavy rail gun fire from the cruiser,” Mister Randeen reported. “Aft port side!”

The bridge began to shake violently.

“Rail gun fire across our belly from the nearest frigate!”

Nathan glanced at the tactical display again, noticing that only one of the missiles fired by the first frigate had been destroyed by the Aurora’s point-defenses.

“Two detonations!” Mister Randeen reported.

“What about those missiles?” Nathan demanded.

“Two down. Two to go!” Mister Navashee reported. “Impact in fifteen seconds!”

“Escape jump! Two light seconds!”

“Two light seconds, aye,” Mister Riley answered from the navigator’s chair.

“Contact! It’s the Falcon!” Mister Navashee reported.

“Jump plotted and locked!” Mister Riley announced.

“Comms!”

Naralena didn’t waste time answering the captain. “Falcon, Aurora! Jumping ahead two light seconds!”

“Three seconds!”

“Jump!”

The bridge filled with the blue-white jump flash. The shaking stopped as the flash cleared, then there was a dull thud.

Nathan looked around. “What the…”

“One of the missiles came through the jump with us!” Mister Randeen reported. “The energy of the jump must have caused it to detonate just before impact.”

“Damage?”

“Nothing yet, sir,” Naralena answered.

“Where’s the Falcon?”

“They just jumped in off our starboard side,” Mister Navashee answered.

“Flash traffic from the Falcon,” Naralena reported.

Nathan pointed to his comm-set.

“Patching them in,” Naralena said, noticing the captain’s gesture.

“
Aurora, Falcon! Jumper One is down! Jumper One is down southwest of the extraction point!
”

“Falcon, Aurora Actual,” Nathan said into his comm-set. “Any survivors?”

“
Unknown, sir,
” Loki answered over the comms. “
The shuttle is badly damaged, but the hull was basically intact. No one was answering my hails.
”

“Hostiles?”

“
Fast movers maybe three minutes out, and more combat landers about five out.
”

Nathan closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as a wave of despair swept over him. He had no options. “Falcon, Aurora Actual. Destroy Jumper One.”

“Sir, there may be survivors inside. Maybe we can hold them off long enough to…”

“Negative,” Nathan interrupted in a stern tone. “Too risky. We cannot afford to lose the Falcon, and we cannot afford to let the jump drive technology fall into Jung hands. I’m ordering you to destroy Jumper One, maximum force. Is that understood?”

There was a brief pause.
“Understood, sir,”
Loki answered.
“Falcon out.”

The bridge seemed unusually quiet.

“Mister Navashee,” Nathan began calmly, “I want damage assessments and position updates on all three targets ASAP.”

“Aye, sir,” Mister Navashee answered.

“Helm, hard to port, five degrees up relative to the ecliptic. Maintain full power.”

“Hard to port, five degrees up relative, full power,” Mister Chiles answered. “Aye, sir.”

“Load nukes in two, four, five, and six. All full yield, all set for snapshot, Mister Randeen.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Jessica slowly opened her eyes. They immediately burned from the smoke in the back of the shuttle. She coughed. Her shoulder still hurt. She could hear moans from others inside the shuttle. She squinted as she coughed, trying to see through the smoke that was lit only by the jump shuttle’s emergency lighting.

The shuttle was on its left side at about a forty-five degree angle. Jessica realized she was still in her jump seat on the right side of the shuttle. The seat was rocking, dangling in the air from its only remaining intact mount. She reached up to her harness release and disengaged the buckles. She fell unceremoniously from the dangling jump seat, landing next to the shuttle’s crew chief located on the port side bulkhead. She groaned on impact, her shoulder sending waves of pain through her entire right side. She turned and looked at the crew chief on her left. His helmet was cracked. His face was covered with blood, and his eyes were wide open with a fixed gaze. His shoulder appeared to have been torn from his body, caught on his broken restraint harness that had still been tethered to the overhead runner track at the moment of impact. “Jesus,” she mumbled, averting her gaze. She closed her eyes as she fought back the pain in her shoulder. “Anyone alive?” she yelled.

“I’m good!” a voice called.

“Who’s that?” Jessica asked.

“Letvil, sir.”

“You injured?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m alive, too,” another voice called out. “Tonkton, Sergeant. Count off!” the sergeant ordered. “I’m one!”

“Two,” Letvil followed.

“Three,” another voice announced. “Nutara.”

“Four, Mechky.”

There was a long pause. “Five, Nash,” Jessica finally added. “I guess that’s it. Someone blow the back hatch so we can get some fresh air in here,” she ordered.

“Blowing the hatch!” Sergeant Tonkton announced. A loud bang was heard as the explosive bolts on the rear cargo hatch detonated, blowing it clear of the shuttle.

Jessica stretched her jaw. “Damn!” she complained, her ears ringing from the explosion.

“Sorry, sir,” the sergeant said as he climbed out the back of the shuttle and looked around.

“Six,” a voice called almost too weak to hear. “Waddell.”

Jessica turned around, looking to her left toward the sound of the major’s voice as the lingering smoke was drawn slowly out the back hatch. “Major! Is that you?”

“Letvil! Check on the major!” Sergeant Tonkton yelled from outside. “Nutara! Mechky! Grab your weapons and get out here! We’ve got movement in the trees!”

Jessica pulled herself over the crew chief’s dead body toward the hatch that led to the shuttle’s cockpit, propping herself up on her left elbow as she pushed with her legs. She got to her feet and stood against the port bulkhead, one foot on either side of the crew chief’s body. She looked into the passageway. Major Waddell was lying against the left side of the passageway, his lower half in the cockpit. A large tree branch had come through the forward windscreen on the starboard side, crushing most of the cockpit and killing the flight crew. “Fuck.” Jessica looked at him. His helmet had been knocked off his head. His face was pale. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “How do I look?”

“Like shit.”

“Thanks.” He raised his head and tried to look down at his legs, which were pinned under the massive tree branch. “I can’t feel my legs,” he said, letting his head fall back down, “but I’m pretty sure I’m stuck.”

Jessica could hear the desperation in the major’s voice. It was something she had never heard from him. Weapons fire sounded from outside the shuttle, causing Jessica to instinctively look aft.

“What’s going on out there?” Major Waddell asked.

“Movement in trees,” Jessica told him. “Tonkton is on it.” Jessica looked at Letvil as he climbed over his dead comrades to reach her.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s trapped,” Jessica told him.

Letvil looked through the passageway. “Hey, Major,” he said as he surveyed the cockpit as best he could. “I might be able to get in there from outside,” he told Jessica, “maybe bust out the rest of the windshield. I’m going to need help though. How much time do we have?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica admitted. “Just see what you can do.”

“Yes, sir,” Letvil answered. “Hang in there, sir,” he called back to the major. “We’ll get you out.”

“Get a sit-rep from outside,” Major Waddell insisted.

Jessica tapped her comm-set. “Tonkton, Nash. Sit-rep.”

“Five or six Jung in the tree line, sir!” the sergeant answered over the comm-set. “Probably the bastards that shot us down. They’re trying to circle around us, but we’re keeping them down for now.”

“Nash, Falcon! Do you copy?”

“Falcon, Tonkton! Bad guys in the tree line! Firing target designator now! Take them out!”

“Tonkton, Falcon copies. Thirty seconds.”

“Falcon, Nash. Threat board?”

“
Fast movers one minute out. Combat landers three out.”

“Falcon, Nash. Hit the tree line, then fire on the fast movers! Then you can deal with the landers!”

“Orders are to immediately destroy Jumper One, maximum force, no exceptions. We can hit the tree line on our approach, but you have to get the hell out of there, sir! We can’t engage six fighters! Captain’s orders!”

“Major Waddell is pinned down! We need a few minutes to…”

“He’s right!” Major Waddell interrupted, raising his head. “The captain’s right! He can’t risk the Falcon in a dogfight!” Major Waddell’s head fell back down, unable to find the strength to stay up. “Especially now that it’s our last jump ship.” All hope suddenly left the major’s voice. “You’ve got to leave, now.”

“Bullshit!” Jessica yelled.

“Heads down,”
Loki’s voice called over the comm-set.
“Firing on the tree line!”

Jessica positioned herself with her torso covering the major’s face to protect him from flying debris as the Falcon tore apart the tree line with her plasma cannon turret. She heard its engines scream as it pulled up into a climb.