by Dan Allen
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?”
“Angel,” Jet said. “Pick a satellite. Ditch it on the Torsican capital.”
“The satellite will completely burn up on reentry,” Tiberius noted. “There will be no surface damage.”
“Yeah, but it will make one heck of a show. The AIs down on Torsica are going to radio back to the frigate and ask what is going on.”
“Trajectory locked,” Angel said. “You have a ninety-second window.”
“Too early, and they start searching,” Dormit muttered. “Too late, and they spot the shuttles before the emergency call from their people in Torsica comes in.”
“Make it fifteen seconds into the window,” Decker said. “These AIs are fast, but slewing a long-range telescope is slow. It’s a motor on a precision gear.”
“Commencing satellite burn in one minute, ten seconds.”
Jet looked to the display showing the eight shuttles converging on the ASP frigate from behind.
“Alright,” Decker said. “The moment we have confirmation their scope is moving, I want the Nautilus behind Big Bertha.”
“He’s going to hide behind the fuel tank so they don’t know which shuttle to hit—in case they survive,” Jet explained to Teea.
“Aye, Captain,” Dormit said. “Warming up the solid fuel thrusters.”
“Problem,” Tiberius chirped. “The second dropship is not attached to the frigate. It is in a trailing orbit.”
“Too late to change targets,” Angel said.
“Black space!” Decker pounded the console. “The dropship is going to track us. And then he’s going to smoke us as soon as we commit to a landing trajectory.”
“Or I can take a shuttle,” Jet said. “We’ve been dropping those. He’ll think it’s empty.”
The noise on the bridge died instantly.
“You can’t take a shuttle to the surface. That thing is a tin can.”
“I only need to get to the edge of the atmosphere.”
“Jet,” Angel warned. “You are not space jump qualified.”
“I have to space jump. A jump cocoon is small enough to pass through their radar clutter filter.”
Decker looked up for a second opinion.
“He’s right,” Tiberius said.
Decker swallowed. “Naman, suit up.”
“Let’s hope the shuttles take out the frigate,” Dormit mumbled under his breath. “Because if they do see you, that frigate’s laser will pop your jump cocoon like a cockroach in a campfire.”
“Not just him.” Decker patted the bulkhead. “Angel, you better blow this frigate to hades and back, or we’re all dead—Jet included.”
Angel gave a low chuckle. “Just watch.”
Jet left the bridge and began to suit up for a transfer to a shuttle. He toggled the intercom to listen, but nobody said anything for nearly a minute.
“Picking up a corona. Our satellite is reaching the upper atmosphere,” Dormit reported.
“Burn, baby, burn,” Jet urged as he sealed his glove.
“Frigate is evading!” Dormit shouted. “They didn’t fall for it.”
“Angel, get that son of a glitch!”
“Shuttles 1 and 2 missed,” Dormit reported.
“Angel?” Decker said, his tone rising.
“Wait for it,” the AI said in a low, cocky voice.
“Shuttles 3, 4, and 5 are skew—that’s another miss.”
“Frigate is accelerating,” Monique said.
“Shuttles 6, 7 might have a—holy guacamole, look at that frigate move. That’s over ten g’s!”
Jet bit his knuckle.
“Angel—come on!” Decker urged. But there was little Angel could do. At this range, the round-trip time lag was still nearly five seconds. With the shuttles moving at forty kilometers per second, the error was too huge.
“We have no confirmed valid trajectories.” Dormit’s voice went silent. “Eight is a miss.”
“Wait for it,” Angel said.
“Wait for what?”
Jet closed his eyes, dropped to one knee, and started praying. “Come on, Angel. Come on!”
“Holy—the frigate is disintegrating. What the—did you just see that?”
Cheers erupted around Jet. He gave a sly grin. Nice miss.
Decker gaped. “Okay, how did you do that?”
“The shuttles weren’t aiming for the frigate—too easy to dodge,” Angel said. “The shuttles were aiming for each other.”
“It appears the shuttle collisions created intersecting halos of debris,” Tiberius explained. “There was no way out.”
Monique gave a cry of laughter. “They just flew straight into an epic poopstorm.”
“Did you just say ‘poopstorm’ on my bridge?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Decker moaned like he was in pain.
“Sir, dropship 2 is evading the debris field,” Dormit said. “They’re going planet-side.”
Decker looked at the trajectory. “Yeah, using the atmosphere as a shield against the debris. These guys know their—” he glanced at Monique, “poop.”
“But they can boost back into orbit,” Dormit added.
“Indeed,” Yaris said. “But they’ll be in a plasma cone and buffeting turbulence for the next few minutes. Their sensors and lasers are useless.”
“Okay, we’re on the clock,” Decker said over the con. “Jet, get your freeloading AI off Tiberius’s cores,” Decker ordered. “Then get your butt on the shuttle and get clear.”
“Yes sir.” Jet finished attaching his other glove.
Monique hurried into the bay and aligned Jet with the wall-mounted EVA backpack. “Boost pack is live.”
Angel’s calm voice sounded in Jet’s helmet. “I’m booted in. It’s . . . cozy.” The mobile processor was far smaller than Tiberius’s servers.
“Moni, can you check my seals?” Jet looked over, but Monique wasn’t there. She was putting on her own EVA suit. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a shuttle, too. If the dropship follows us, we can split up and he’ll have a fifty-fifty chance of guessing which is yours.”
“What?” That logic was whack. He could use an autopiloted shuttle for a decoy.
“The shuttles are designed to couple,” Monique said. “We’ll link the two. Then I’ll drop you over Aesica and rendezvous with the dropship—if they survive.”
Jet wasn’t going to argue if she wanted to spend several days alone on a shuttle with him. “And if not?”
“Then I space jump, too.”
“Jeez, woman. You’re as crazy as me.”
“You’d better believe it. And it’s ‘Corporal’ to you.”
Jet gave up arguing. He helped Monique into her EVA jet pack, sealed and cycled the airlock, and then toggled his radio. “Naman to Nautilus, requesting permission to disembark.”
“Idling ion engines. Naman, off my ship—now.”
Gravity disappeared. Jet snagged a pre-packed box of supplies and gear for his mission and tethered it to his pack. The jump gate closed. Pumps sucked down the atmosphere left in the bay. Then doors snapped open, and the pair navigated in spurts of thrusters around Big Bertha’s spherical belly.
“I have Shuttle 23,” Jet said as his boots locked to the hull.
“Acknowledged,” Dormit replied. “Severing remote control now.”
“I’ve got Shuttle 24,” Monique added.
“What is she doing out there?”
“Looks like a I have a tagalong,” Jet said.
“Great. One less marine for me to babysit.” Decker snapped. “Get those shuttles clear! I’m coming around.”
Jet entered the shuttle, disengaged the tether, and told Angel to figure out a landing trajectory. He was still several days out from the planet, but the sooner he started maneuvering, the less fuel it would take. And he could only fire the ion drives when the ASP dropship was on the far side of the planet, or else the high energy particle emissions would give him
away.
“Engaging automate,” Monique called. From the cockpit display, Jet watched as the two shuttles pivoted and joined at the belly with a bang.
Jet opened the hatch on his side, and a minute later Monique opened her side and drifted through without her jet pack.
“Do you think the dropship spotted us breaking away?”
“I doubt it. It’ll be pretty busy tracking space junk.”
The further they drifted from the other shuttles, the less likely the enemy’s telescopes would spot them.
Jet vented the cockpit to atmospheric pressure and took off his helmet, plugged it into the charging station, and enjoyed a crisp dose of ridiculously frigid air. Monique followed. Her hair took the opportunity to explore the low-gravity environment.
Jet sat down in one of the two shuttle pilot chairs and managed to get the buckle around his EVA suit. “We did it.”
“Does this shuttle have a space jump kit?” Monique asked.
“Yeah, we transferred all the kits to the remaining shuttles when Angel launched the others as missiles,” Jet said.
“What about food?”
Jet opened a drawer. “Um . . . synthmeal okay?”
“Water?”
“The suits recycle.”
“Okay, so we can last a few days.” Monique gave a sigh of relief.
Jet smiled. “So now what?” He had his own ideas.
“Now?” Monique said. “I’m going to lock myself in the other shuttle for an entire shift. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been in a room by myself? Sanitation silo aside.”
“Five weeks, two days, four hours. But who’s counting?”
“Yeah. At least.” She turned and pushed off for the adjoining hatch.
“I’ll keep Angel company,” Jet said. Then he added, “So, I’ll see you for dinner?”
Monique put a hand on the hatch to slow herself. Without looking back, she said, “Sure, why not.”
When she was gone and the hatch on her side closed, Jet banged the wall of the shuttle. “Way to go, Angel.”
“I learned from the best,” she answered from the speaker in the charging panel. “The shrapnel shot—you did that on Avalon.”
Jet smiled as he realized the connection. “Yeah, but you just shot eight bullets into each other from across the solar system.”
“I wasn’t going to brag. But . . . it was pretty cool.”
Jet could imagine her blushing.
“So, is everything ready for the big day?” she asked.
Jet grimaced. First contact. “Um . . . yes. Entering the final stages of planning as we speak.”
* * *
“It’s good to have you back,” Korren said.
Dana nearly fainted at the surprise of an actual welcome.
They’re not going to kill me? Relief washed through her.
I’m home.
The three kazen escorted her through the long tunnel to the main hall, though not like a prisoner escort with some in front and some in back. It was almost like an honor guard.
“The stone is safe, it seems?” Korren said. “The pool is pulsing.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t want to bring it back?” He wasn’t pushing for an answer. He just seemed curious.
That definitely wasn’t like Korren.
“I . . .”
“I imagine,” he said, “you weren’t sure whom to trust.”
Dana swallowed. “Yeah.”
“In time you will.”
Dana didn’t like the sound of that. It was as if he was trying to change her.
I’m not some impressionable child you can control.
“We know what kind of person you are,” Remiren said softly. The enchantress probably didn’t have to work hard to pick up on Dana’s angry thoughts. “If we didn’t like you the way you were, you wouldn’t be here.”
Possibly.
Remiren put her arm on Dana’s.
Dana waited for a strange new thought from the enchantress to run through her mind.
It didn’t come.
“We were worried for you,” Remiren said.
You mean you’re glad the stone is safe.
“Naturally,” she said gently. “But your friends here have been terribly worried about you as well.”
“Ritser, Remira, I’ll join you in a moment.” Korren stopped and faced Dana while the other two continued into the main hall. “It is odd to be the senior kazen and so . . . left out.”
What is he saying? He wants to know where it is? Of course he thinks he has a right to know.
“I couldn’t stop the citizen council from determining to destroy it. I couldn’t stop the Vetas-kazen. I couldn’t even stop you, Dana.”
Dana returned his gaze. “You want the stone, don’t you?”
“Everybody wants the stone,” Korren said.
“But who do you want to get it?”
He didn’t answer.
Dana turned away from Korren and stepped inside the main hall, still wondering who Korren wanted to get the stone for. It couldn’t be Vetas-ka, or he would have simply given the kazen the stone when they attacked. But he had fought them.
Was there somebody else? Or was he just trying to make her think that he didn’t want the stone for himself?
Her job wasn’t over. She had to find out what Korren was up to. And if not him, then who Sindar had fled from.
At least the stone was safe.
Dana was ripped from her thoughts when the big druid, Kazen Ritser, rang a heavy bell. Its tones echoed through the cavern. In moments, the hall was filled to capacity, not just with young acolytes but senior kazen older than her parents, though none quite as old as Sindar had appeared.
Dana stood behind the main table, flanked by the kazen who had escorted her.
When there seemed to be no more room in the cavern, Korren spoke.
“Some are not with us today.” His voice was grim. “Acolyte Sofrana. Venren. Melien. We grieve for their passing even as we honor their sacrifices to defend us from the foreign kazen.”
Although Korren was talking about those who died fighting the Vetas-kazen on the day she took the bloodstone, all eyes were on her.
“They, along with many of the civic guard, and many of our citizen council, paid the ultimate price for their loyalty.”
Dana searched the crowd for the faces of those she loved. She found Kaia, who nodded at her. Ryke stood with his staff leaning in the crook of his arm, his legs shoulder-width apart as if guarding the assembly.
She winked. His brow furrowed as his eyes took in her newly bleached light blond hair.
A smile crept onto her lips as she caught him staring.
Mirris was there as well, near the front, looking ready to embrace Dana, or slug her—probably both.
“We also welcome the return of our newest acolyte, Dana of Norr.” Korren turned to her. “Your courage inspires us all. And once again the light of the bloodstone pulses in the sacred pool. You have returned the stone to us. We trust it is safe.”
Dana nodded.
He smiled. “Then you shall continue to keep it in trust until the council makes a new decision. You have earned the right. We honor your sacrifice.”
It wasn’t just her sacrifice. Forz had paid a terrible price as well. She would not forget it.
“Now we must prepare,” Korren continued. “There is a great work to be done in the city. Our enemies are gathering across the seas. But I’m sure some of you would like to greet Dana. Please, do so. Then let us attend to the city and remind our people of Shoul Falls that they are not alone. We are one, the people and protectors of Shoul Falls.”
A cheer rose up from the crowd, doubly loud in the rock-walled cavern.
With the speech finished, Dana slumped into the nearest chair.
She was glad to be here, glad to be safe, glad to be cared for, and glad that she was not being chased or threatened. It was the most wonderful feeling.
It’s to
o easy.
The feeling nagged at her but quickly faded with the ample distractions in the room.
“Water?” offered the bearded kazen.
“If you would be so kind, Ritsen,” Remira said, before Dana could answer.
“Thanks,” Dana breathed.
Ryke, Siona, Kaia, and several of the girls she had shared the one meditation with, quickly surrounded her.
“You touched the stone with your blood,” Mirris said, her eyes accusing. “We felt it.”
“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to touch it,” Dana said.
“But you did it a second time.”
Dana’s voice fell. “Yes.”
“It is forbidden.”
“I know. So why the welcome? Why didn’t they arrest me?”
Kaia sat beside Dana and took her hands. “We felt your pain, Dana. All of us. You were dying, weren’t you?”
Dana gave a small nod.
“Everyone in the entire city felt you, Dana,” Ryke said. “It was like we were dying with you.”
Dana’s jaw dropped.
“Do you think we begrudged you our strength when you called on us?” Ryke said. “After you saved the stone from the Vetas-kazen?”
“The first time you touched it,” Mirris said. “We were fleeing, running from the kazen invaders.”
“Then a voice called to us,” Kaia said. “A command, as if from the Creator. ‘Fight!’ It was you, Dana. You were the one who rallied us.”
“And we fought,” Ryke said. “As one. Even without our powers.”
“I’m sorry I took the stone from you.” Kaia put her hand on Dana’s shoulder. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You probably were,” Dana sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Any breakfast leftovers?”
“Always hungry,” Ryke laughed.
Ritser reached over her friends and lowered a bowl of water that glowed briefly before she drained it. When she looked up there was another bowl with porridge.
Dana ate the porridge almost as fast.
The others filtered away at the behest of a senior kazen.
Ryke sat across from her. He pointed at her hair. “Did that happen when you touched the bloodstone?”
Dana blushed, the tines of her sifa fanning. “No. I needed a disguise.”
“It looks . . . good.”
“You always look good,” Dana said. “. . . to me.”
