by C. Gockel
The other thing she’d learned from the brief connection, she couldn’t kill Adin as soon as he got here, she had to do more than take down his link to the network to have any impact on the battle. Like them, the Dusan didn’t put all their eggs in one basket. There definitely was a command structure. Adin was at the top, but there was a small group of minds that could step in. Best case scenario, they got into a pissing match, giving them time to win the battle. Worst case, next in line already knew who he was and could take over immediately. Best outcome would be for her to take down the entire network, using a power surge like Adin had used to take out the transmitter. All she had to do was feel her way through a million plus connections, tap into the one Adin was using and…neutralize it, before Adin figured out she was there. And before he, well, better not to think about that.
She tapped her radio. “Fyn?”
He didn’t respond. She frowned. He should have reached the cloaked ship by now. Sara started to contact Henderson but something, a tingle of her spider sense maybe stopped her.
“Fyn, please respond.”
The room went dark.
She cursed as she tried to tap into the outpost. Nothing. With the power down, she couldn’t access the outpost’s resources either. Panic tried to fill in the gap left by the loss of the data stream. It was like losing a limb—a limb she needed to find Fyn.
“Fyn, please report your location.” It surprised her how calm her voice sounded.
“Hello, Sara.” It was Helfron, the Gadi leader. “I’m afraid Fyn is indisposed.”
Sara didn’t feel her knees buckle.
She did feel them hit the floor.
Helfron, no Kalian.
Kalian had Fyn.
Kalian who wanted him dead.
Who may have already killed him.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to breathe, trying to think. Vaguely she knew Helfron was still talking, but she couldn’t hear. Or see. Or talk. She’d known Fyn could die. She’d faced it last night, as she lay in his arms, holding him while he held her. But not like this. She felt something wet ooze through her fingers. Blood. She recognized the smell. Her palms stung where her nails had dug in.
It wasn’t enough.
She bent over until her forehead touched the cold floor. Her hands spread out, welcoming the cold into her body as the nanites healed those wounds, that pain. Ice flowed through her body.
“Sara?”
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
Life’s not fair. Evie spoke in her head.
Does it have to be this unfair? She didn’t want to, but she made herself sit up. Her body felt stiff and old. A hundred years old. She wiped her face. There was one thing she could do for Fyn now.
She keyed her radio. “I’m going to kill you.”
Her voice sounded dead. Dead as Fyn.
Fyn is dead.
She repeated it out loud.
“Fyn isn’t dead. He’s just stunned.” He didn’t sound worried. He sounded patronizing. Patient. In control.
That was going to change.
“Yankee Foxtrot Oscar.” Sara gave the code to switch channels on the radio and made the change herself.
“Henderson?”
“Charlie foxtrot. What do you want us to do?”
“We got to get the power back on or this op is a bust.” Fyn would have died for nothing. “Can you see their position on your sensors? I’m dead in the water.”
Sara had gotten so used to being tapped in to the outpost, she felt lost with out the connection. Made her situational awareness crap, too. It was a pointed reminder how easy, and dangerous, it was to rely on tech instead of good, old-fashioned soldiering.
“I’ve got ‘em.”
Sara mentally tapped into the fighter’s computer, even as Henderson briefed her. No surprise they were in power control. She counted twenty bogeys, probably all Ojemba. He’d want his best men with him.
“They’ve got the stairs covered,” Henderson said, “but I see some shafts. Probably transport shafts on either side of their position.”
“If they’re like the Dusan, they’re not trained for urban fighting.” Sara hesitated. “How many guys do you think?”
“Three should do it, if you’re going, too.”
“Oh, I’m going.”
He told her where to meet up with Perkins and what to do.
“Roger that.” She hesitated. “The Old Man is counting on us. If I don’t make it out, you have to take out Xever. Destroy the outpost if you have to.”
“What if Fyn is still alive?”
“He’s not.”
If he wasn’t dead, Kalian would kill him as soon as he got what he wanted. He couldn’t afford not to. He had to be the one person who knew how dangerous Fyn really was.
“I’m sure he suspects you’re there. He might be counting on you for his ride off this rock.”
If one of the cloaked fighters was missing, the Old Man would have known about it. They weren’t invisible to each other. And tracking would have picked up any other ship in the area. He’d had them drop him off and leave.
“Don’t give it to him.”
“Roger that.” A pause. “Good luck, Tall Girl.”
“Same to you.”
When Halliwell was tasked to command the Doolittle, they told him that it would be more like commanding a naval ship, than an Air Force vessel. He was glad now for the time he’d spent studying naval tactics. In addition to the two earth ships and the four Garradian ships brought up from the island outpost, the Gadi had kicked in eight of their battle cruisers, not the ten he’d been hoping for.
His consultations with Commander Gaedon and Emerson had been interesting. It took a while to get Gaedon to quit talking about protocols and understand there was nothing polite or neat about war. The tactics Gaedon proposed reminded him of a dance the waltz maybe. Stately moves and counter moves. Everyone doing what they were supposed to do.
“This is a fight for our survival,” Emerson finally told him. “We kill them or they kill us. We can’t afford to play fair, sir.”
“Has Xever ever sent so many ships into battle, Commander?” Halliwell asked him.
“No.”
“Then he’s thrown your protocols out the window. Now it’s your turn.”
Gaedon had sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
So Halliwell told him.
Sara pulled out her flashlight, propped it so it would shine on her equipment. Night vision goggles. Knives. Grenades and flash bangs. Magazines for P-90, M-4 carbine, and nine mil. She emptied her vest of everything that couldn’t kill, maim or disintegrate the human body. It surprised her how cool her thoughts were, and how cold her rage. She took off her cap and put on the goggles, but didn’t pull them down yet. She switched her radio back to the frequency Helfron was using.
“Sara, talk to me.”
“Got nothing more to say.”
This was her fault. Sara had wondered where Helfron was. She’d felt uneasy about it, but she hadn’t done anything. Hadn’t taken precautions. Hadn’t tried to find out. He must have had Ojemba watching the outposts and noticed the activity. He’d come. And now he’d killed Fyn.
“Don’t be hasty.”
She stowed her flashlight, hung the M-4 off her shoulder, and picked up the P-90, flicking on the light.
“I’m long past hasty.”
“Fyn walks out of here alive, if you promise to come with me, promise not to leave.”
“I know who you really are. I know you can’t let him live.”
“I give you my word—”
“Your word means nothing to me.” Sara fought back the flash of hot anger. She had to stay cold. “If you’ve got some gods somewhere to pray to, now would be a good time to start, because I’m coming for you.”
The sound of her voice sent a chill down her back. Dang, she sounded scary.
Chapter Nineteen
Halliwell positioned his ships along the corridor the Du
san had used to come at them before. The smaller ships with cloaking capability were positioned to flank the Dusan fleet along the expected attack vector. He arranged the four big ass Garradian ships into a claw shaped formation with his own ships in the center position to concentrate their fire power on the Dusan ships when they arrived. They’d be cloaked, but would have to de-cloak to fire.
He had the Gadi ships take up positions behind the planets and moons, poised to ambush at the right moment. One thing spacecraft had over ocean ships, they could pop up out of hiding a lot faster. There was already an opening salvo in the form of a minefield right where they expected the fleet to drop out of hyperspace.
The Doolittle and the Patton were waiting right where they expected the brunt of the Dusan assault. Donovan’s boost to their shields should allow them to withstand the initial bombardment long enough for the rest of the fleet to deploy.
He hoped.
And then they just had to hold out long enough for Donovan, or the geeks, or both, to disconnect Xever from his communication network.
“The Dusan armada is on the move, sir.”
Halliwell nodded and took his seat on the bridge and pulled up the HUD. Xever was throwing everything he had at them. The screen was thick with ships.
“Let me know if…when any of the ships break off for the outpost.”
And may God have mercy on their souls.
“I know you’re there, Sara. Talk to me.”
Kalian was starting to sound worried. Good.
The elevators had to operate in shafts, even if they did move faster than light. She shone her flashlight on the floor and found a thin line. Applied her knife to it and a panel popped out. Once it was out, it was easy to pop out a few more. While she was working on it, her jarhead found her, the light from his M-4 shining into the deep dark.
“Captain?”
Sara shone her light on him. “Perkins?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He moved forward to help her, sticking his head down in the shaft and shining his light around.
“There’s a ladder on the side of the wall. I think I can reach it.”
That would save time. She’d been worried they’d have to rappel down. They both shut off lights and pulled down their goggles.
As she eased into the hole after Perkins, she heard Kalian again.
“Fyn wouldn’t want you to do this.”
She made it onto the ladder and started down.
“Sara.” He was starting to sound frustrated. “Let’s talk about this. Don’t make me kill him.”
“So talk…while you still can.”
“We’re reasonable people—”
“I stopped being reasonable when you killed my husband.”
“He’s not dead! When he comes to, he’ll talk to you.”
Sara tapped into the fighter computer again and checked their positions. He was lucky he’d turned off the power. She’d have fried their asses.
“You know he’ll want you to talk to me and work this out.”
Would he want her to live, even if he never saw her again? Didn’t matter. She was the one who’d have to do it. There were things she could do, but this wasn’t one of them.
“Then I’d better kill you before he wakes up.”
Kalian’s voice hardened. “I will kill him if you don’t come to terms with me.”
“I think he’s already dead.”
She reached the bottom of the shaft, dropping down next to Perkins. They were one level below Kalian’s position. Perkins was already working on getting the doors open. She slipped her knife between the two doors, below his, and added her weight to the task and soon there was a gap large enough for them slip through.
“I wouldn’t kill my bargaining chip.”
Sara stopped. “I think you’ll do anything, say anything, to get what you want.”
Soon he’d know she’d do anything to keep him from getting it.
She slipped her carbine off her shoulder and loaded a round into the chamber with a pointed snap, knowing he’d hear it. She turned down the volume and looked at Perkins. They did a quick summary of signals, making sure they were on the same page.
“You take point.” It made sense. He had more training than she did.
She padded quietly toward the stairs, on Perkins’ six. He did a quick check of the stairwell, then gave her the signal to move up next to him. They started up, one on each side of the wide stairs, moving carefully to keep their equipment from making contact with the wall. Just shy of the opening, they both stopped. Perkins eased up to the opening. No sound broke the silence. He inched forward and did a quick peek around the corner. Signaled four bogeys, two each direction.
Now they just needed the other team in position—she heard the two taps on her radio—the signal they were ready.
Sara tapped into the fighter’s computer again, while Perkins eased forward, flicking on his red dot sight. It was the quick and dirty way to aim. He tapped his radio twice, did a three count, leaned out and fired twice, then pulled back. Two shots from the other team were more like an echo. She edged out now, her weapon ready, but out of sight.
Hallway was empty.
But then a figure peered out from an opening about halfway between their positions. He stepped out into the corridor. Someone from the other position dropped him. She turned up her radio, just enough so she could hear.
“That’s five.”
“Sara.” He sounded relieved to hear her voice again. “Fyn’s conscious. He’s going to talk to you.”
Going to.
There was a pause while the radio changed hands.
“Sara.” Fyn’s voice was carefully neutral.
Sara gripped her carbine so tight her arms hurt, but her voice was as cool as his.
“Fyn.” A pause. She didn’t know what to say.
“I’m coming out.”
“Okay.” She paused. “I…”
“I know.” A pause and then he began, “Don’t—”
His voice cut off.
It was almost a relief when the first Dusan ships dropped out of hyperspace into the corridor. Halliwell had always hated waiting, whether it was for battle or for the dentist. The first ships found the minefield. At first it looked like they were going to hold up to the punishment, but then a series of explosions flashed on the HUD and out his view port as the atmosphere inside them ignited with a fiery flash.
That was more like it.
From tracking and fire control he heard, “More Dusan ships dropping out of hyperspace. The Dusan have launched long-range missiles. I read twenty incoming.”
“Are we in range?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Launch counter measures. Alpha group engage echo foxtrot.” He used code, in case the Dusan could monitor their communications. “Bravo group begin India delta.” Bravo had been tasked to protect the fleet by interdicting missiles. Charlie group, the Hellfighters, was standing by to be part of the ambush.
The missiles were almost in range of their anti-missile system, but they weren’t sure how R2D2, their compact Phalanx CIWS based systems, would work against the Dusan missiles, though they should kick ET missile ass.
If they didn’t, this was going to be a short fight.
Some of the missiles fell to fighter group Bravo, then the R2D2 went to work, cutting the incoming to shreds with its 4500 rounds per minute of depleted uranium.
“Incoming missiles have been destroyed.”
The Dusan fleet drew nearer and began firing with closer range weapons. The Doolittle shook from the impact. Even with shields it was brutal. What the crap was in those things?
“Shield status?” he asked, calmly.
“Shields holding at one hundred percent.”
“Fire forward batteries at will.” Halliwell watched more and more ships dropping out of hyperspace. Their volley of missiles hit the lead Dusan ships with devastating impact.
The good news, it wasn’t hard to find a target. The bad new
s, well, there were a shit load of targets.
And why wasn’t he getting any reports from Donovan?
Kalian had his men secure Fyn’s hands behind him, and then added bindings to his legs that allowed him to walk in short steps, but not much else. If anyone knew what Fyn could do, these men did. Most of it he’d learned from them. Or taught them. He’d been so sure no one knew where they were. He thought Kalian had been defanged. Apparently no one told Kalian. There’d been five shots, from two directions. At least she wasn’t out there alone. Kalian’s face didn’t give much away, but Fyn sensed he was frustrated. Sara hadn’t reacted the way he expected.
Fyn smiled to himself. If there was any certainty in this life, it was that Sara wouldn’t do what was expected.
She knew that Kalian would never let him live. Even taking the broken oath to the Ojemba out of the equation, Kalian had to know Fyn would never quit trying to find Sara, now matter where he took her, no matter what either of them promised.
I don’t think much of oaths that bind good people to do things they know they shouldn’t. The only oath they need to swear is to do their duty.
Wise words from a wise man. Words to live or die by.
Fyn looked at Kalian. “She won’t do it.”
Kalian’s face tightened. “In the end, she will find a way to make it feel right. Women are emotion driven. Her passion for you is her weakness. To save you, she will come to terms with me.”
Emotion driven? Kalian was facing Captain Donovan, a warrior, not a woman. Fyn had heard it in her voice on the radio. She couldn’t afford to give in. If she did, what about her mission? She knew what was riding on this play. More than his life hung in the balance. She’d taken an oath to do her duty. And she’d find a way to do it.
With his chin down, he stared at Kalian. If he charged him—
