At Circle's End

by Ian J. Malone

“Check that, Blazer,” Floyd cut in from the Praetorian’s comm station. “Be advised: enemy forces just pinged our buoy at Coralin 2, moving at sixty million kilometers per second. That puts them well ahead of schedule.”

  “New ETA?” Hastings asked.

  “Five mikes.”

  “Damn it.” Hastings sighed. “Keystone, this is Blazer. Did you copy Praetorian’s last message?”

  Static crackled.

  “Roger that, Blazer,” said Colonel Raymond Rollins, the Keystone’s commander. “Per our people on the ground, about eighty percent of the colonists have already been evacuated, but that still leaves us with about six hundred heads to load. The Brindamore and the Tharagot are presently down there, but we’ll still need time.”

  “Who’s on point to coordinate?” Hastings asked.

  “Layla and Noll,” Rollins said.

  “Copy that, Keystone. We’ll buy you as much as we can. Blazer out.” Hastings grumbled another curse then returned to his pilots in orbit. “You heard the colonel. It’s on us to keep things in check until he and his people can get these colonists clear. Watch your marks, listen to your squad leaders, and you’ll be fine. Ruah?”

  “Ruah!” hundreds of pilots responded at once.

  “Good,” Hastings said. “LPs, they’re all yours.”

  Lee wasted no time. “Look alive, people. We’ve been tasked with coverin’ zones thirty-eight to forty-three. That puts us just over the planet’s northeastern hemisphere, so expect action.” He dialed up their coordinates in his display. “Mako squadrons fourteen and fifteen, you’re on point in zone thirty-eight; sixteen and seventeen, you’ve got thirty-nine. From there on, I want two squads per zone, flexible spreads. Soul Squadron has zone forty-three. Everyone clear on their assignments?”

  “Copy that, Daredevil,” replied the Kennox flight crews.

  The chirp in Lee’s instruments intensified, meaning the grays were almost in range. He double-checked, then triple-checked his fire controls as the first of several flashes shimmered in the distance.

  “Contact!” Floyd announced on an open channel. “Multiple bogies in zones eighty, eight-three, eight-seven, ninety, ninety-two.”

  Listening as Floyd continued, Lee scanned each ship’s configuration in his display. “Praetorian this is Daredevil. I count two enemy carriers, five light cruisers, six destroyers, and five hybrids—repeat, five hybrids including the Kamuir. Can you confirm?”

  “Confirmed Daredevil,” Floyd said. “The two Kurgorian ships are entering the system now.”

  Lee widened his view to find the vessels in question hovering at the outskirts of the system. Lengthy and lean, they were covered from bow to stern in long metasteel spires, which—as Auran scientists had deduced—were a sign of their armor’s age. The hybrids, meanwhile, were conventional Alystierian ships covered in new armor, which had a more nubby appearance on account of its youth.

  Lee refocused on his crew. “Squad Leaders, you good to go?”

  “Vixen is ready,” Bewer said.

  “Beachhead is a go,” Pierce said.

  “Railhawk’s set,” Hicks said.

  “Northern Star is five by five,” Mac said. “Call the ball, Daredevil.”

  Tracking a destroyer and a cruiser just off the Kennox’s starboard bow, Lee dropped his Mako into Soul Squadron’s lead position and braced himself as the early streaks of weapon fire began to rain down toward his canopy.

  “Ready, and…break!” Lee ripped his stick to port and barreled his Mako into a nosedive, Mac right on his wing, as four Phantoms bristled past overhead. Free of their fire and able to maneuver, he rolled back onto an attack vector, his crosshairs flaring instantly red over two of them. With a double tap of his missile release, both were dust as were two of their partners—Mac’s doing. “Nice shootin’, Star.”

  “It’s how I roll, Daredevil.”

  “Look out, Daredevil—you’ve got three more Phantoms inbound hot from thirty-nine point five.”

  Bewer’s words were barely out when a cascade of red poured over Lee’s canopy. He dipped hard to starboard, gaining a mild scorching for his troubles. “Much obliged, Vixen. I owe ya one.”

  “Anytime, Daredevil.”

  Lee’s instruments chirped again, and he glanced down to spot six fresh blips on the Kennox’s portside aft section. “Beachhead, Railhawk. You’ve got a half-dozen bandits headed your way. You able to deal?”

  “We’re good, sir,” Hicks said over the clatter of weapon fire and his own controls. “So long as those Kurgorian ships hold their usual stay, we’re fine here. Do what you need to.”

  A knot formed in Lee’s gut as he eyed the stationary ships in back of the system. Why don’t you engage? No matter. He didn’t have time to worry about it. “Copy that, Railhawk. The show is yours. Vixen, you still with me?”

  “Right here, Daredevil,” Bewer said.

  “Take eighteenth squadron, and fall in to support Railhawk and Beachhead. They may need you in fairly short order.”

  “On our way.”

  Lee returned to Mac. “Star, you and the rest of Soul Squadron are with me. I want to make a run on that destroyer.”

  “Not exactly an ideal date night, but we do what we must.” Mac reacquired her command voice. “Soul Squadron, fall into formation on Daredevil’s wing, and prepare to move out.”

  * * *

  Seated in his command chair of Kamuir—the Alystierian flagship—Colonel Lars Reirdon glared at the two Kurgorian vessels standing motionless in his tactical display. What in the gods’ names are you waiting for? “Comm, have you been able to raise the pralah of the Dexavoy?”

  The comm officer whirled in his chair. “Yes, sir. He says their forces are under strict orders from their High Council not to engage unless it’s absolutely imperative to the mission’s success.”

  The lines on Reirdon’s face crinkled into a sneer. Slaring two-faced ghouls. “Fine. Let us show these so-called allies of ours what real imperial might looks like. Helm, target the lead Auran ship above the colony, instruct all available forces to converge on its location, then lay in a course.”

  The helmsman spun to face his CO. “Sir, if we divert to zone fifty-one, we can bypass the ASC’s—”

  Reirdon cut him off. “I am not a coward, Corporal, nor will I fight like one. We take our enemy head-on; is that understood? If the aliens won’t help us open a hole in the ASC’s defenses, then by the gods, we’ll carve one out ourselves. Now, carry out my orders.”

  The helmsman swiveled back to his terminal and went to work.

  “Colonel Reirdon, sir?” the XO asked.

  Reirdon rolled his eyes. “What is it, Commander Ovies?”

  “Sir, engineering just signaled in. They said we’re losing integrity on the starboard grav coupler. They need a few minutes to lock it down.”

  Reirdon scoffed. “Fine. Go help them.”

  The slender Ovies blinked through his glasses. “Sir, with all due respect, my expertise is in biology, not engineering.”

  Reirdon threw up his hands. “Well holy gods, Commander, I’m all out of things for you to analyze right now so I guess you’ll just have to improvise, won’t you?”

  “Sir, I don’t—”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Commander—” Reirdon all but spat his subordinate’s rank, “—the ASC was ready for a fight when we got here, and I aim to give it to them. Now, either find a way to be useful to that end, or get the hell off of my bridge!”

  Ovies glanced around. Every eye in the room was anchored squarely on him. He dropped his head and muttered something.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Reirdon snapped.

  “I said, understood, sir,” Ovies answered through gritted teeth. He rose from his seat at the science station and started for the exit. “Tell engineering I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you.” Reirdon huffed once more and returned to his chair’s tactical screen as his XO, the galaxy’s greatest analyzer, vanished from sight. Gutless,
wart-faced worm. And you wonder why the chancellor picked me for this command. “Helm, what’s our status?”

  “Course is laid in, Colonel. Awaiting your order.”

  “Execute!”

  * * *

  Having coordinated with Hicks to dispatch an Alystierian frigate, Lee blasted his Mako into a wings-back, full-burn climb then looped back toward three Phantoms engulfed in his stardrive wash. He painted them with Diamondback missiles. Not today, friends. He fired, and all three fighters exploded on impact only to be snuffed out by the void.

  Soaring free of their mangled bones, Lee honed in on his next batch of targets and took aim. “Star, Railhawk, Vixen, I want you to circle back in to—”

  “All wings,” Floyd cut in. “We are tracking significant enemy movement in zones sixty-two through sixty-nine.”

  Lee flipped his display to a wide shot only to have his jaw fall open when five Alystierian ships led by the Kamuir tore, weapons ablaze, into the Valkure, the Rynhower, and the Paige.

  “Lord in Heaven, no!” Mac shrieked.

  All three ships buckled under the duress as entire sections of their hulls flew apart at the seams. They shuddered but recovered quickly when three of their ASC sisters, led by the AS Davis, swooped into the fray like steel angels on the wind.

  The voice of the Davis’ commander rang out like a shot. “All fighters, redirect to zone thirty-four for immediate containment of—”

  He was too late. A swarm of Alystierian Phantoms broke free of the blockade and dove for the planet’s atmosphere.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 18: Descent

  Lee listened as Hastings jumped on comm. “Keystone, what’s your status?”

  This time the answer came straight from Layla. “I’ve still got crews loading, Blazer.”

  “How many colonists to go?”

  “About three hundred. On the upside, the Triton returned early from her last run, so that should expedite things. What’s going on?”

  “The grays just landed a heavy shot to our blockade,” Hastings said. “The Davis, the Brindamore, and a few others shifted to plug the hole but not before a sizable pack of Phantoms slipped through. They’re inbound to your position now.”

  “How many?” Layla asked.

  “Six squads at least.”

  Layla cursed. “There’s no way I can take that kind of heat right now, Blazer, and still get these people out. Even if I had the Keystone’s full Tuskan complement, which I don’t because we needed the deck space, I’d still be short. Same for the Ozarck and the Tharagot.”

  Lee didn’t hesitate. “Blazer, request permission to join the evac.”

  “Negative, Daredevil. I need you in thirty-eight.”

  “Sir, Beachhead’s got that zone locked down tighter than a drum, and besides, the grays have already shown it ain’t a priority. Let me take Soul Squadron and a handful of others to assist the Keystone. They need the help, sir, and they need it now.”

  Hastings grunted. “Sure your crew’s ready for that? They’re not exactly the Hit Squad.”

  “We’re in Makos; the grays are in Phantoms. We’ll be fine.”

  Apparently that was good enough for Hastings. “Permission granted, Daredevil. Happy hunting, and be prepared to bug out with the Keystone as soon as they’re ready to fly.”

  “Yes, sir.” Lee ripped back on his stick and dove for the surface. “Northern Star, Vixen, Railhawk, you and your squads are with me.”

  “On our way, Top,” Mac said.

  Cutting through the final swatch of cloud cover and heading toward the desolate, sandy wasteland of Thawnose 4’s surface—morning sun piercing the horizon—Lee hit the deck in his Mako and found the colony in his display. Spanning roughly five square kilometers, the compound housed a makeshift hospital and community center to the north, a trading outfitter to the south, research labs to the east, and personnel barracks to the west. The airfield and docking platforms were also north, and it was there that Lee spotted all three ASC ships taking heavy fire.

  “It’s about time!” Link snarled on an open channel. He was piloting one of the Tuskans that was holding the fighters at bay as throngs of people below—men, women, and children—streamed in a near stampede onto their Auran cruisers.

  Lee’s engines boomed outside as he throttled past the speed of sound. “Jester, report.”

  “We’ve got forty-four hostiles down here, Daredevil, and only twelve Tuskans. We need you here, like, yesterday.”

  Lee could hear the tension in his friend’s voice. “Copy that, Jester. We’re inbound now. ETA two mikes. What’s the status of your ships?”

  “The Tharagot’s good to go, and the Ozarck isn’t far.”

  “And the Keystone?”

  “Last one in, last one out, but Rollins is set to go struts-up ASAP.”

  Lee nodded in his cockpit. “Understood. Stay on comm, and I’ll keep you apprised of our status.”

  “Ruah. Jester out.”

  Lee spun up his fire controls and began mapping the battle zone. As Link had outlined, there were just shy of four dozen Phantoms in the skirmish to Lee’s nineteen Makos. That meant even with the twelve Tuskans, they’d still be undermanned.

  Hang with me, greenies. Lee vectored in on the colony’s northeast quadrant, where the bulk of the fighting seemed to be. “Northern Star, Vixen: once we hit the compound, I want you to take four Makos each and break right after the two gray squadrons farthest north. Railhawk, you and your squad take the east. Me and Soul Squadron will take the pair farthest south. Do not—repeat, do not—open fire until you’ve cleared the colony. I want to push these fellas east toward the flatlands.”

  “Cattle drive,” Mac deduced.

  “Exactly,” Lee said. “Once we’re out in the open, the collateral damage will be minimal. Then we take them. Ruah?”

  “Ruah!” they agreed.

  “Jester, you square with the plan?”

  “Damn Skippy, Daredevil. Moving my people to support.”

  Lee tightened his grip on the stick as the skirmish approached visual range. “Ready…break.”

  Splitting hard to starboard, Lee painted two Phantoms with his crosshairs then screamed toward them on a full-throttle game of chicken. They reeled to evade and broke for the sky.

  “No, no, no!” Lee barked. “I need you to break out, not up!” His canopy filled with sky when he tore back to follow them up, stomach in his throat, engines booming like a thunderclap behind him. “C’mon, c’mon.” He fought for a lock, bobbing left to right, right to left, but it was no use. He needed to get closer. He throttled up again and drew in tighter, never once intending to fire but rather to scare the opposing pilots into changing course by sounding the enemy lock alerts in their cockpits.

  Lee’s eyes bulged when, instead, his alert squawked a warning. “Damn it!” He ripped the stick hard to port as two missile trails streamed past his starboard wing. Next came the Phantom that had fired them, followed by two Makos nipping at its afterburners.

  “C’mon, y’all—keep up already!” Lee blurted off comm to his squad mates.

  The attacking Phantom hit its Zenith and leveled out into formation with two more coming in hot from the southwest.

  Crap, now they’ll really be overmatched. Lee rolled in that direction, forced his enemies due east, and painted two of the three. Night. He fired, turning both Phantoms to ash while the Makos covered the last one.

  “Thanks, Daredevil,” one of the greenies said when they were clear.

  Lee keyed his comm. “Don’t sweat it. Just chill out, and quit overthinkin’ stuff. Believe me, it’ll come to you.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Seeing the two Makos fall in behind him, Lee located his next targets circling back toward the colony and blasted off after them.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 19: Unseen

  Pralah Kiff Rezlan watched through the Dexavoy’s forward viewport as the Alystierian invasion continued to backpedal from the Auran bl
ockade. Arrogant fools. He turned to the officer on his right. “What is Reirdon’s status?”

  “The Kamuir and her sisters made steady progress with their initial attack on the AS Valkure. Since then, however, a second group of ASC ships has emerged from the nebula and divided the colonel’s forces.”

  “Can he hold them?” Rezlan asked.

  The officer shook his elongated head. “Highly doubtful, sir. At the rate the Alystierians are faltering, a withdrawal seems imminent. The only question is when.”

  Rezlan snorted with apathy. He’d known of the Auran nebula force within moments of the Dexavoy’s emergence from hyperspace. Had Reirdon bothered to launch a probe of his own, he’d have known about them, too. Then he could’ve avoided this mess. But, Rezlan thought with a throaty chuckle, such foresight would’ve required a modicum of restraint on the colonel’s part. And to think a buffoon like that commands your empire’s flagship. No wonder the senior pralah thought so little of these people, to say nothing of their chancellor.

  Rezlan bellowed a sigh of boredom and activated the holo-comm next to his chair. Seconds later, he was face-to-face with the hologram of Zan Kai-Ool’s second in command.

  “Ceda Jahara.” Rezlan bowed. “The battle unfolds as you predicted. What are the senior pralah’s orders?”

  “Is the victory in doubt?” the ceda asked.

  “Very much so,” Rezlan said. “A second group of ASC ships has divided the colonel’s invasion force. By our estimates, the imperials will be overrun within the hour.”

  Jahara’s red-scaled lips peeled back to showcase a razor smile. “Excellent. You are free to engage the Aurans. Deploy your ships as you see fit and dispatch a ground force to deal with the colony. I want no survivors, pralah.”

  Rezlan put a forearm to his chest. “Our victory will be as swift as it is absolute, sir.”

  “Good,” the ceda said. “Notify me when it’s done. Vanxus out.”

  * * * * *