Chapter I: On the Border

The Earth Year 2264

The tramp freighter Golden Touch raced towards the idle jump gate that rested a little over 100,000 kilometers in front of her in a barren Earth Alliance border system. The freighter was old, produced by Edgar Industries Mars shipyards several years before the Earth-Minbari War. She was one of the standard human designs, an economy model perfectly suited for one of Earth's major shipping lines. After 15 years of faithful service, she had been sold off at auction, as the firm upgraded its fleet of interstellar cargo vessels with models incorporating the new technologies that had slowly flowed into the Earth Alliance from the Minbari Federation. A small firm, a new company that specialized in trade with the Narn Regime, had purchased the freighter and conducted some minor upgrades on her engines at the Orion VII yards. Since then, the Golden Touch had worked the trade routes between the Narn Homeworld and the EA outer colonies without incident.

That at least was what the official records on Commander Charles Ericson's display panel claimed. And I'd wager a year's salary that not more than one word in ten is accurate. Aboard the EAS Thunderchild, the EarthForce officer knew he would soon know just how much the freighter captain had rigged his logs. The corvette and a half-squadron of Reaper model Starfuries followed in the wake of the freighter, steadily closing with her.

"Kat," the commander said to the communications officer sitting to his right, "warn them once more, if you don't mind."

"Yes sir, sending the message now," came the formal response. Ensign Katerina Ganchukova, fresh from the Academy, spoke in a voice too loud for the small confines of the corvette's bridge. It ironically made conversations with the communications officer a rather difficult experience. It did however add a degree of intimidation to her voice, something useful at the moment.

"Freighter Golden Touch," she began, "this is the Earth Alliance warship Thunderchild. You are ordered to power down your engines and submit to an inspection. If you refuse to comply, we will use deadly force."

Silence echoed from the comm system for several seconds before Ericson gave up hope of a response. "Very well, let's escalate this by a notch or two. Lieutenant Tanaka, prep missile tube one."

"Aye sir." The weapons officer sent the appropriate commands to the missile bay.

"And use a nuke, Lieutenant."

Ensign Ganchukova looked up in surprise but the Tanaka was unfazed, having served on border patrol for several months, taking part in the interception of dozens of suspected smugglers. "Missile ready Commander."

"Set it to pass within ten kilometers of the freighter and detonate a hundred kilometers in front it. I don't want the skipper of that crate to weasel himself out of a prison sentence through some legal technicality that he never heard our warnings." Judging by the fact that the tip on the smuggler operation came all the way from EIA high command, the freighter captain was looking at a very long prison term.

"Flight plan loaded…missile away." The projectile rocketed out of the missile tube on the Thunderchild at over 100 kilometers per second. With that kind of velocity, the missile crossed the distance between the two vessels in just under a minute. The missile buzzed the freighter in a flash and the nuclear device in the nose detonated. For an instant, a new star shined brightly right in front of the Golden Touch.

"Commander, she's speeding up, redlining her engines! It looks like she's still heading for the jump gate."

Ericson could only shake his head at the sheer lack of sense the smuggler had displayed during the chase. Twenty years ago, she might have been able to escape this close to a jump gate. The Earth Alliance had never had much use for boarding operations. In combat, civilian space stations usually surrendered to passing naval forces and military stations were destroyed. Disabled warships might be investigated but they never offered any resistance. The result was EarthForce lacked any sophisticated technology in the field. Twenty years ago, Ericson, with his pulse cannons out of range, only had the option of using missiles, which would have destroyed the freighter, or sending his fighters forward to try to disable the suspected smuggler. Of course, there was no guarantee that the Reapers, without the precise fire-control system of the corvette, wouldn't inadvertently destroy the ship by hitting her reactor or opening her crew compartments to space. With those choices and a high command unwilling to risk destruction of alleged smugglers, Ericson would have had to try to close to gun range, giving the freighter the opportunity to escape in degraded sensor conditions of hyperspace.

Since the end of the war, however, circumstances had changed considerably.

"Mr. Tanaka, you know what to do. Crash her 'net."

"I had tubes two and three already prepped with virus bombs for such an eventuality," the lieutenant said with a grin on his face, "we can fire at your pleasure, Commander."

"Fry her paint with the sensor array first, let her know what's coming, then launch the missiles."

Invisible tachyon beams echoed from the corvette, lighting her up like a Christmas tree to any halfway operational sensor array in the system. The beam striking the freighter made her just as visible and sent alarms buzzing throughout the ship. Even the freighter's simple AI knew that many powerful tachyon emissions meant something was wrong.

Meanwhile, a pair of missile tubes opened on the Thunderchild. Outwardly, the missiles inside resembled the nuclear-tipped missile fired a few moments earlier. It was only on the inside that differences revealed themselves. The two missiles lacked any sort of warhead but had a sophisticated computer network and a powerful communications system. The missiles would close with the smuggler where their AI's would access the freighter's computer system and upload a series of viruses designed to shutdown the entire network on the freighter: engines, sensors, communications…life support. The ship could then be captured without difficulty, though the ship would have to be towed to a fleet base to delete the viruses.

The engines on the two missiles powered up, preparing to launch in a few seconds. It was then that the trap was sprung.

.

Commander Susan Ivanova stood up from her chair and stretched, feeling the kinks in her body start to disappear. Slightly refreshed, she dropped back into her chair overlooking the large sensor plot in the CIC of the carrier Garunda. Her eyes glanced over the blinking dots that represented the carrier's Starfuries scattered across the local region of hyperspace. As CAG, each one was her responsibility and she hadn't realized just how much responsibility it was until she had taken over the post a month ago.

It certainly didn't help that the current operation had been organized hastily by Fifth Fleet. Word had come from Intelligence of a major arms smuggler passing through the sector that lead the fleet to dispatch a group of corvettes to picket a series of border systems. Garunda, as the only capital ship available for immediate action, had been sent as back-up and a command-and-control vessel for the search group. Given the importance of the smuggler, she and Captain Hiroshi had organized a patrol of Reapers to watch for support vessels. Those patrols constituted the bulk of the dots on her display. The rest of her active fighters circled the Garunda as part of the CAP and six fighters were flying with the Thunderchild, the corvette that had actually spotted the smuggler.

So far, the precautions had proven unnecessary; the only contacts had come from the other four corvettes, traveling towards the Thunderchild from their own systems to provide support, if something went wrong. The boring, excruciating work, all for nothing…

"Commander, new contact spotted at extreme sensor range."

Ivanova glanced upwards instinctively. It wasn't a challenge or a complaint, I like boring work that won't get me killed. "Any IFF?"

The sensor officer in the CIC was quiet for a moment. "Yes, ma'm, she's responding to IFF, but its garbled…can't get an exact reading. It looks like it may be a fighter from Delta Squadron."

Ivanova looked around CIC, seeing the eyes of all the officers on her. "Alright, people, we've all seen this kind of trick before. Stay sharp. I want two fighters from the CAP to go investigate. Get a visual confirmation of this mystery fighter."

In the swirls of hyperspace around the large carrier, two Reapers engaged their thrusters, angling themselves towards the unknown contact. With a flash of light, the fighters jetted away from the Garunda, the four engines hanging on their wingtips burning brightly. With a gattling-gun style pulse cannon slung under the elongated fuselage, the Reapers primarily served as heavy fighters but were still well suited to the role of interceptor.

The Garunda's plotting board showed the two fighters slowly approaching the bogey, which was lazily flying on a steady course towards the carrier. The voice of one of the officers in CIC abruptly distracted Ivanova as she watched her carrier aerospace group in action.

"Commander, Captain Hiroshi is on the line."

The commander nodded and picked up the headset resting on the table in front of her. "Captain, Ivanova here."

"What's going on Commander?"

"Captain, we've picked up an unidentified fighter at extreme sensor range; it may be one of our craft but we haven't been able to confirm that yet. I've sent two of the CAP fighters to rendezvous with the bogey and I'd like to launch the alert fighters, in case we have an enemy strike force inbound."

"Permission granted." The captain paused on the line for a moment. "I'm also ordering the ship to general quarters so get the rest of the fighter group ready to launch. Do you still have Alpha Squadron prepped for anti-shipping strike?"

"Yes ma'm, with Beta Squadron configured for anti-fighter operations."

"Excellent, keep me notified on further developments." Hiroshi ended the link, allowing Ivanova to turn her attention back to the board.

"Lieutenant Wills, patch into the fighters' comm systems."

"Aye, Commander." There was a moment's pause, followed by a burst of static from the speakers in CIC.

"…repeat, this is Garunda Gamma Seven to unknown fighter, identify yourself." There was no response from the bogey. That fighter should be able to use its short-range comm systems in a few minutes…what the hell is it waiting for? Another burst of static echoed from the speakers before the voice of Gamma Seven reappeared. "Chris, is that you?"

Ivanova lunged for the headset and pulled it over her head as she dialed the frequency for Gamma Seven. "Gamma Seven, this is the CAG, what happened?"

"I've got the bogey on short-range radio, ma'm, it's Christopher Black."

"Delta Four? Link me through to him." The connection blanked out for a moment, then reinitialized. "Chris, it's Commander Ivanova, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Commander," came the reply in Chris Black's raspy voice, the result of smoke inhalation during the Earth-Minbari War. "I've lost my long-range comm system, sensors are a bit shaky, God only knows how I managed to find the ship in hyperspace."

"What about the rest of Delta Squadron? Were you attacked?"

"No, ma'm, no attack. I have no idea what caused the electronic failures. I tried to track down someone else from the squadron, but didn't have any luck."

"So, there's no one covering your patrol sector?"

There was a seconds-long pause over the comm system. "No ma'm…I tried to let someone know, but I just couldn't…"

"Commander," Wills shouted, interrupting the conversation. "Urgent message from Thunderchild…she's under attack."

.

"Jump gate activation, Commander!"

Ericson jumped up in his chair at the words. "Cancel missile launch…what's coming through the jump gate?"

Before the sensor array could identify the new arrivals, Ericson noticed that the Golden Touch had dramatically changed course, heading 'down' relative to the plane of the jump gate…and that she had changed course at the same exact second the jump gate activated. Oh shit… "It's an ambush. Turn us around, full power to engines. Get us the hell out of here!"

"Aye sir, coming about."

"Commander, we've identified the newcomers…three old Olympus-class corvettes and a large group of fighters, thirty or so, a mix of Nova Starfuries and Belt Alliance fighters."

In a sense, Ericson was pleased with himself, identifying the trap before actually learning the nature of the attack. In a more real sense, he doubted whether the extra few seconds would save his command. Though the Thunderchild was faster than the corvettes emerging from the jump gate, that many fighters would almost certainly be able to damage the EarthForce corvette's engines and allow the hostile warships to chase her down. At which point the Thunderchild would die.

"Kat," Ericson said, as casually as he could manage, "inform the Garunda that we're under attack and require assistance. And, ask them to hurry, if they wouldn't mind."

The ensign managed a nervous snort at the commander's tone.

"Commander," the sensor officer spoke again, the terror of combat clearly evident in his voice. "Jump point forming, 5,000 kilometers right ahead of us."

Damn…whatever is coming out of hyperspace is going to be big…as if that jump gate force isn't overkill already. "New heading, 0 by 0," a heading that would send the Thunderchild straight up, relative to her current position, "prepare to fire missiles at the new contact."

"What load-out should we use, sir?" Tanaka asked.

"Whatever's in the tubes."

"Commander," Ganchukova spoke up, "message from the new contact."

"Put it on, Ensign."

"This is the cruiser Liberty of the Johan Adelsvärd Earth Resistance Brigade to EAS Thunderchild, you have ten seconds to power down your weapons and engines or we will open fire. Nine seconds…eight…"

"Turn it off," Ericson shouted.

"Any response, sir?" asked the young ensign.

"Yes," the commander said, before turning to the weapons officer. "Fire missiles, target the Liberty. Then load another salvo, all nukes. Open fire with the guns at anything in range."

"Yes sir, missiles away, weapons firing."

Eight missiles launched from the Thunderchild, turning away from the corvette's new heading and screaming towards the Liberty. The cruiser, an old Earth-Minbari War era Hyperion, lacked the new technologies that had been incorporated into EarthForce but her point defense system was not to be laughed at. Six of the missiles were destroyed en route to the cruiser. Of the two remaining missiles, one was virus bomb intended for the now-forgotten freighter. As programmed, the AI interfaced with the cruiser and uploaded the viruses…where they were promptly identified and eliminated by the Liberty's anti-virus programs. The other missile, with a conventional warhead, slammed into the cruiser, burning away several square meters of armor. The cruiser's interceptor grid protected the vessel from the Thunderchild's pulse cannons, though the stream of fire from the corvette slowly inched its way closer to the Liberty.

The resistance brigade did not waste its brief reprieve. The four warships fired thirty missiles as the fleeing EarthForce corvette. Ten of them fell to the vessel's defense grid. The other twenty, all virus bombs, passed by the warship, their AI's sending viruses into the vessel's computer network. The Thunderchild's computer managed to eliminate the first dozen before being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

The bridge of the warship went black as systems throughout the ship failed. Commander Ericson stood up from his chair and swept his eyes across the bridge, as they slowly became accustomed to the sudden darkness. He was silently thankful that the artificial gravity systems had somehow survived the virus attack. "Alright, arm yourselves everyone, we can expect boarding parties any minute. We just have to hold for a little while, then Garunda will arrive."

The seven men and women on the bridge walked towards the bulkhead, which had been closed in anticipation of combat. Footsteps were uncertain in the darkness but the officers and men made it to the exit without incident. The door, however, remained closed.

"We must have lost that system," Ericson said. "Where's the manual release?"

"Here, sir," the weapons officer spoke off to the side of the commander. He slammed his elbow into a closed panel, forcing it open. Tanaka found the release button, connected to a battery that could open the door in an emergency, and pushed it. The door still refused to open. "Damn," he swore. "Commander, the viruses completed screwed up the system. We can still burn through with our PPGs."

"No, we don't have enough spare caps." Sidearm PPGs had been mandatory issue for officers and NCOs for the last decade. The small Thunderchild, however, lacked any other infantry weapons, meaning the bridge crew could not resupply themselves with weapons if they broke through the jammed door. "We'll make our stand here. Spread out and find cover."

The commander made his way to a console in the front of the bridge, several meters from the door. Ensign Ganchukova ended up behind a chair nearby. He could see the young women lifting her PPG with confusion, as though she didn't know what to do with it. Her hand was clearly shaking. Ericson wanted to say something to calm her down, but nothing would come to him. As it was, he was not in a condition to comfort anyone else. The silence was getting to him. He knew that a large force of rebel marines was forcing its way through his ship, killing his men, and he couldn't help them, didn't even know how they were fairing. The wait stretched on and on, with no word from the outside world.

Then, there was a faint mechanical whine, as if someone had tried to trigger the manual release in the corridor outside the bridge. "Here they come," Ericson spoke, his voice carrying across the silent bridge. The whine stopped and for several seconds nothing happened. Then, the bulkhead exploded in a burst of fire that ruined Ericson's night vision. He ducked behind the console, pain flaring in his eyes from the unexpected burst of light. He could hear the distinctive sound of PPGs firing and could see the eerie red shadows they cast in the darkened room.

The commander forced himself to his knees, facing the enemy, and lifting his weapon. There was a grunt of pain from a man kneeling nearby; it sounded disturbingly like Tanaka. Don't think about it, just fire, think later. With his night vision still in flux, he couldn't accurately pick a target. Ericson pointed the weapon at a flashing PPG weapon in front of him and fired. The burst of plasma flew across the room and hit something. The weapon he had targeted was silent. A PPG round slammed into his console and the commander switched his focus to his new opponent, searching for the source of the PPG fire. With his attention otherwise occupied, he never noticed his first target opening fire again, until the PPG burst slammed into his chest.

The blow sent the commander to the floor; his chest feeling like it was on fire. There was another scream, from another of his men. It was getting hard to breathe. He saw Kat throw her pistol to the ground, shouting that she surrendered, just don't kill her. In his last conscious thought before the darkness took him, he reflected that he didn't blame her.

.

Ivanova wished she could have escaped Garunda's CIC and returned to the cockpit of her Reaper under happier circumstances. Her Reaper lead the thirty-two fighters of Alpha and Beta Squadrons as they raced through hyperspace to the jump gate near the Thunderchild's last reported position. Garunda followed at her best possible speed, with the fighters of Gamma Squadron providing the CAP. As she moved through hyperspace, she tried to reconstitute the scouting Delta Squadron into a single coherent formation.

"We're approaching the gate, Commander," came a voice behind her. Lieutenant Harold Isaacs occupied the rear-seat in the Reaper, handling sensors and electronic warfare, letting her devote herself fully to the battle.

"Send the activation code Harry," she replied. Ivanova thumbed the comm switch that would let her speak with the entire fighter group. "We're going through, people. Beta Squadron move first, get passed the gate as fast as possible and clear the way for Alpha Squadron."

There was a swirl of blue light in front of her that signified the dimensional shift to normal space. Ivanova shoved the throttle of the Reaper forward, redlining her engines. The fighter shot forward through the jump gate. Her first look at normal space was a corvette slowly moving towards her with several older Starfuries circling around it.

"They're right on top of the jump point," she shouted into the comm system, warning the fighters following her. She through the Reaper into a series of random rolls, firing her thrusters in all directions. The corvette, caught unawares, didn't even try to target her and instead concentrated its attention on the stream of fighters emerging from hyperspace. The second Reapers flew through without incident and even managed to take out an enemy Starfury with a missile.

The next four Reapers were not so fortunate; before they could even begin evasive maneuvers they were met with a hail of fire that destroyed them one by one. Now expecting resistance, the remaining Beta Reapers exited the jump gate already in the midst of evasive rolls, letting all but two of them pass through unharmed.

It was only then that Ivanova noticed the ring of enemy fighters that began to close with her fighter group, scattered in a sphere around the jump gate. "Beta Squadron, we have incoming hostiles, regroup on me."

The jump point was still open, but Alpha Squadron had not yet emerged. Before she could ask the problem, she found out the reason for the delay. A wave of fighter-launched missiles exited from hyperspace. The interference of the jump point meant the Alpha Reapers couldn't control them and the missiles had to rely on their own rather simple AI's. The turbulence of the transition caused several of the missiles to detonate prematurely. The losses proved worthwhile, as it was clear the resistance corvette had been caught unaware. Twenty warheads slammed into bow of the warship and a wave of fire erupted, moving along the ship. The explosion reached the reactor or the missile magazine, it was impossible to tell which, and the ship died in a fusion fireball.

Cheers of celebration filled the comm system. The Beta Reapers immediately turned to dive on the now lonely Starfuries orbiting the rapidly scattering remnants of the warship. Ivanova targeted one of the fighters slowly trying to gain velocity to escape. She thumbed the trigger on her joystick, igniting the six pulse cannons in the front of her fighter. A seemingly solid stream of fire tore into the nearly motionless Nova Starfury and ripped it to shreds.

The enemy fighters that had been closing with the Reapers backed off, having lost the support of the corvette. The momentary paused allowed Ivanova to take stock of the situation. Two more corvettes were advancing on the jump gate, about five minutes away. An old Hyperion-class cruiser sat motionless next to the stationary Thunderchild, trying to rig the corvette for towing.

"Commander," Isaacs spoke behind her, "we're getting a signal from the Lightning," one of the other patrolling corvettes, "she says she's under attack by resistance forces…wait, Black Prince reports a large incoming strike force, resistance Starfuries and Frazi heavy fighters."

"Is Garunda aware of the attacks?"

"I'm not sure, Commander…but, I'm getting a report from the Pandora, it's a partial transmission that abruptly cut off…and a signal has come in from Electra of a large resistance brigade approaching to engage."

"That's the entire corvette screen."

"Yes ma'm."

"Alpha Squadron, Beta Squadron, we've received reports of attacks on the rest of the corvette picket force. We will withdraw to the Garunda, to cover her in case more strikes are inbound. There's nothing we can do for the Thunderchild now."

The Reapers mournfully turned from the enemy and retreated towards the hard-won jump point, leaving the enemy with their prize.

.

Ivanova allowed her head to fall against the cushion in the Reaper's cockpit as the fighter powered down in the Garunda's fighter bay. The carrier had spent twelve hours trying to save the picket corvettes, only to fail time and again. The aerospace group fought a number of skirmishes with the Resistance Brigades where the technologically inferior but numerically more numerous rebel fighters managed to keep the group away from the Resistance warships. Eventually, Captain Hiroshi had fallen back to the system where the Thunderchild had fallen, hoping to find her still there. Instead, there had been nothing but debris from the earlier fight between the Johan Adelsvärd brigade and the Garunda Reapers.

The cockpit in the Reaper opened. The commander stood up and climbed down the ladder the maintenance team had placed alongside. With her helmet tucked under her arm, she began a purposeful walk towards the bridge, where Captain Hiroshi waited. She passed a number of personnel during the journey, all downcast over the recent battle. The fact that the Garunda herself had never been in danger made the crewmen's self-recriminations worse.

Ivanova was almost pleased to have a turbolift to herself, so she didn't have to face any other member of the crew. After all, it wasn't their fault, it was mine. A few seconds of rapid acceleration brought the commander to the carrier's bridge and with a feeling of trepidation she stepped out.

"Commander," Sandra Hiroshi said quietly, "I know your group is exhausted, but I need you to get a scouting group together. I want to start patrolling the surrounding systems for signs of the Resistance; we don't want an attack on the battle group right now."

Ivanova nodded and allowed her eyes to run over the icons on the display board. When the initial word of the attacks arrived, Fifth Fleet had scrambled every available warship. The first reinforcements had already reached the system, two Resolution-class battlecruisers and an Indomitable-class missile cruiser. The warships, built along the lines of the venerable Hyperion's, were far deadly than anything the Resistance possessed but as the recent clash show, quantity had a quality of its own.

"Once more ships have arrived we can…"

"Captain, jump point forming, 10,000 kilometers away, getting an IFF reading, it's the Spartacus, ma'm."

"Oh hell," Ivanova said in what she thought was a quiet voice at the mention of the flagship of the Fifth Fleet. The captain's soft laugh disabused her of the belief.

"I agree, Commander, the last thing either of us wants to see at the moment is the general."

"Captain," the sensor officer spoke once more, "another jump point forming nearby…it's a Minbari warcruiser…ma'm, it's the Trigati."

Ivanova wasn't sure how but Captain Hiroshi managed a smile, though it was quite apparent that it wasn't genuine. "Well, both General Sinclair and Shai Alyt Sinoval are here. That certainly makes things more interesting." The captain paused for a moment before turning to one of her officers. "Communications, extend my courtesies to them and ask if they would like to come aboard. I imagine they would like to discuss a few matters with me."