At Circle's End

by Ian J. Malone

  Chapter 20: Incursion

  Blasting his Mako low to the deck, Lee split back to port and waited for his fire controls to glare red. They did, and the last Phantom he’d been chasing vanished to bits over the vast, sandy wasteland below.

  “Nice shot, Daredevil.” Mac swooped into formation, having dispatched a fighter of her own. “The last three are bugging out as we speak. I think we’re clear.”

  “For now.” Lee checked his display for stragglers. “Jester, can you confirm we’re good?”

  “Copy that, Daredevil,” Link answered from across the compound. “Targets are officially tails-to-taints and headed for the hills with extreme prejudice.”

  Lee returned his focus to the colony. “Keystone, this is Daredevil. We’ve bought ourselves some time, but there’s no way it lasts. What’s your status?”

  Static crackled ahead of Rollins’ reply. “Almost there, Daredevil. Layla says we should be good to go in another fifteen minutes or so.”

  Lee exhaled and wiped his brow. About time.

  “All ships, all ships!” Floyd shouted on comm.

  Son of a…

  “The Kurgorian ships are moving in to engage. Repeat, Kurgorian ships are moving in to engage.”

  Hastings’ voice surged with new stress. “Praetorian, it’s Blazer. What’s their heading?”

  “At present course, they’ll arrive in zone eighty-one point five in ten seconds.”

  The nebula. Lee jumped on comm, but Katahl was already there.

  “Look out, Colonel, you’ve got two Kurgor—”

  It was no use.

  Lee watched in his display as both Kurgorian warbirds descended onto the ASC’s nebular force, starting first with the Benton and the Bortles, neither of which stood a chance. The warbirds tore into them, and while at first their upgraded armor protected the ASC ships, it’d never been built to withstand that kind of sustained pummeling.

  Each ship fought valiantly while escape pods streamed from their hulls, but in the end, both succumbed to the warbirds’ might. They went dark in Lee’s scopes, never to move again.

  “Colonel Lin.” Katahl was back on. “What’s your status?”

  Lin’s voice came amid the sounds of a chaotic bridge. “We’re whole, Praetorian, but we lost our stardrive in the opening wave.”

  “I’m redirecting ships to your—”

  “Negative, Admiral—keep the blockade intact for the Keystone,” Lin insisted. “They’re the priority. We’re falling back into the nebula to buy our engineers time to fix the drive.”

  Smart, Colonel. Lee applauded her in his mind. If you can’t fight, and you can’t jump, go where they can’t see you to get a lock. His hope was short-lived.

  Silence filled the comm as the AS Gordon, a Zenith-class light cruiser, vanished into the nebula ahead of its pursuers, neither whom wasted any time firing.

  “Colonel Lin,” Katahl barked. “Get out of there!”

  A massive explosion rippled through the cloud, sending a shockwave of dust, gas, and debris spewing like luminous whitewash into the black. In any other context, the pattern might’ve been beautiful.

  “All fighters, this is Blazer,” Hastings shouted as the warbirds came about. “Fall back to cover in zone thirty-seven, and regroup with Praetorian. Go, now!”

  The thunder of artillery sounded in Lee’s earpiece as the channel disconnected.

  “Daredevil and Jester, come in!”

  Still a bit stunned, Lee snapped back to his senses. “Go ahead Layla.”

  “Sensors just picked up six objects breaking through the atmosphere.”

  “Phantoms?” Lee asked.

  “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so,” Layla said. “They’re not moving like fighters at all—more like dead-stick objects falling from space.”

  Link jumped on the line. “Debris from orbit?”

  “Could be,” Layla said. “Whatever they are, they just struck down about eight kilometers due west of here on the other side of Dunn’s Mesa. Lieutenant Suh is tracking them now.”

  A fresh wave of unease swept through Lee’s mind. “Life signs?”

  “None yet,” Layla said.

  Mac was next to chime in. “I don’t like it, Daredevil. Not at all.”

  He started to agree but was cut off when Layla burst out, “Centurions!”

  Lee bolted upright. “What?”

  “We’ve got centurions on the ground!” Layla rattled out. “Repeat, centurions on the ground!”

  Lee gawked in disbelief. The Kurgorians rarely ever put boots on the ground, especially not for something as insignificant as a volunteer research colony. “Layla, what’s the count?”

  “Six units, all armed with pulse rifles and headed this way.”

  “Holy crap,” Mac blurted. “That’s twenty-four centurions. Those guys do—what? Forty, forty-five kph on foot? That puts them here in—”

  “A lot less than fifteen minutes,” Lee finished.

  The comm crackled again, and another voice came on the line, low and gruff. Lee recognized it from syllable one.

  “Layla, this is Sandman,” Sergeant Major Keith Noll said. “My team and I just finished our sweep of the labs. They’re all clear.”

  “Roger that, Sandman. Report home and get ready to fly.”

  “Negative, Layla,” Noll said. “I’ve got nine guys with me and immediate access to weapons and transportation via depot two not far from here. We’re loading up and heading west to cut off that incursion.”

  Lee managed to keep himself from blurting, “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?” He tucked the comment into the back of his mind next to the argument with Noll that he knew to be pointless. You’re gonna need help. “Railhawk, I need a copy, and I need it now.”

  “Go for Railhawk.”

  “I need you on my wing to cover Sandman while the Keystone gets the last of their people on board. If those centurions get here before then, they’ll wreak havoc on this place.”

  “Copy that, Daredevil,” Hicks said. “I’m headed your way.”

  Mac was on next. “Deal me in.”

  “Not this time, Star,” Lee said.

  “C’mon, Lee, I can’t just—”

  “I need you here, Mac, and that’s all there is to it. With the Kurgorians crashin’ the blockade, this place is about to be crawlin’ with Phantoms, and next to Layla, you’re the most experienced pilot out here. The greenies are gonna need you. Same goes for you, Jester.”

  “Piss on that!”

  “I’ve got Hicks, guys,” Lee said. “I’ll be fine. Now, go.”

  Clearly annoyed, Mac grumbled something else before responding. “Fine. Me and Jester will hang here with Vixen and hold down the fort while you and Railhawk handle business on the ground. Don’t be a hero, Lee. I mean it. You go, you fly cover, then you get your ass out with the Keystone.”

  Lee tipped his wings vertical and hammered the throttle. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tearing off through the clouds, Lee saw the second Mako form up on his wing as Noll and his people announced their departure over the comm. A few seconds after that, they were in range of the two dozen centurions exiting black, tubular drop pods.

  “Son of the gods, those things are huge,” Hicks said of the aliens.

  Lee couldn’t fault his wingman’s awe. He’d just been up close and personal with one a day earlier, so he knew firsthand what they could do.

  “Daredevil, this is Sandman. You got a visual yet on those centurions?”

  “Affirmative, Sandman. They’re about two klicks out from the mesa and on the march. Speakin’ of which, you got an SR-29 on your crew?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Good. The top of that mesa’s prime real estate for a sharpshooter.”

  “Ruah,” Noll agreed. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  Lee checked his instruments.

  “Daredevil, look out!” Hicks’ words hit as multiple shots ripped past Lee’s starboard wing. He rolled to eva
de then took aim on the lead cluster of troops with his railguns. He pressed the trigger, sending pillars of sand and particulates spiking into the air, erupting among the alien troops. All five centurions hit the ground with damage, and every single one of them got up to push on.

  Man, those suckers are tough. Lee reloaded. “Railhawk, you still with me?”

  The second Mako unleashed a barrage of its own then soared skyward to regroup. “Right here, Top.”

  Circling back in for another pass of his own, Lee let fly with more railgun fire—Hicks following suit beside him—then released two Diamondbacks into the heart of the Kurgorian line. Sand plumed in a thick mushroom around them.

  “Boom!” Hicks shouted in triumph.

  Lee checked his display. Now there were twenty life signs below instead of twenty-four. The rest held up behind their pods. “Sandman, this is Daredevil. What’s your position?”

  Transporter engines glugged to expiration behind Noll’s voice. “Touching down at the mesa now.”

  “Copy that,” Lee said. “Be advised, centurions are temporarily pinned behind their drop pods, so set up quick as you can. I’ll keep you posted from up high.”

  “Good looking out, Daredevil. Thanks.” Noll disconnected.

  Lee went back to Hicks. “Railhawk, how are you doing on ordnance?”

  “I burned up two of my Diamondbacks and an Eagle on that last pass. Pair that with what I burned back at the colony, and I’m down to guns, one Eagle, and both of my Devastators.”

  “That’ll do.” Lee checked his own inventory. “Dial up one of those Devastators, and get ready to follow me back down. I want these fellas good and well-done before Sandman hits the ground.”

  “Ruah,” Hicks said. “Devastators engaged and awaiting your vector order.”

  Lee ripped back on his stick and blasted into the atmosphere, sunlight flaring in his canopy. He then looped back hard and rocketed toward the pods. “Railhawk, you with me?”

  “Turn and burn, Daredevil!”

  Lee spun up his fire controls—systems chirping in concert with the high-pitched song of stellar fan engines in full burn—and took aim. “Steady…steady.”

  A wash of weapon fire doused Lee’s starboard side, and he rolled hard as three Phantoms sliced past his canopy. “Shit!”

  “Mayday, Mayday!” Hicks shouted. “Railhawk is going down! Repeat, Railhawk is going down!”

  Lee’s fighter bucked once more as he regained control, but his pulse hit overdrive when he spotted Hicks’ through the canopy. Most of its starboard wing was gone, giving it no chance of recovery. It spiraled and corkscrewed out of control then struck the ground in a flash, though not before a lone parachute floated clear of the blast.

  Lee sucked in the relief. “Sandman, this is Daredevil. Railhawk is down. Repeat, Railhawk is down and in need of pickup.”

  “Eyes on your own six, Daredevil. We’ve got him,” Noll said.

  Grateful for the assist, Lee returned to his display and found the trio of attacking Phantoms circling back along the horizon for another run. He cracked his neck. “All right, boys. Y’all want a yard fight? You’ve come to the right place.”

  The first Phantom went to guns, and Lee tipped his wings to counter then let loose a barrage from his own. The shots bristled past the Phantom’s fuselage, but a handful of them made contact. Streaks of black streamed from its body, and the fighter broke off out of sight.

  Lee searched his scopes for fighters two and three. He spotted them, but apparently they’d spotted him first. He bucked into a climb as a fresh wave of railgun fire sizzled past his underbelly. Okay, that was close. He looped back around and painted Phantom Two with a Devastator. Good night.

  The fighter exploded, sending its partner—the third and final fighter—barreling out of the way. Lee laid in a pursuit course and hit the throttle, sending a supersonic boom crackling the air outside.

  Seeing his target’s afterburners loom closer in his canopy, Lee fought for a lock.

  The Phantom recognized it and countered accordingly, but Lee kept with him.

  “Come on, you slippery mongrel; gimme somethin’ to hit.”

  The fighter cut right then left then right again then rolled back hard toward the deck.

  Lee swept back his wings and drew in as tight as he could. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his crosshairs flashed the beautiful shade of crimson he’d been waiting for. See ya, son!

  A massive thunderbolt rocked Lee’s starboard engine, slamming him into his safety belts, air spewing from his lungs.

  “DIRECT HIT,” his fire controls displayed.

  The stick became a jackhammer in Lee’s hands as he fought, coughing and choking, to corral the spiraling craft. It was no use. The damage was done, and the tailspin was on.

  “Daredevil is going down!” he wheezed out past the shriek of flatlining instruments. “Repeat, Daredevil is going down! I’m punching out!”

  He lunged for the Eject button only to be planted back to his seat by the violence of centrifugal force. Again, he tried; again, nothing. Damn it! Once more, teeth gritted into a vice, he reached. This time, his fingers met something solid. He pressed.

  His Mako’s canopy blew free of its moorings, and Lee listened, guts in his throat, as screaming instruments and waning engines gave way to the swoosh of open air. There was a thump at his back followed by the crinkle of cloth and tethers ejecting from his seat. Then, just like that, he was floating toward the ground.

  Okay, so that was intense. Lee threw up a protective arm when his Mako hit the ground, hoping to shield himself from any debris that might reach him. Fortunately, none did.

  Lee uncovered his face and looked up just in time to see the same lame-duck Phantom—smoke still streaming from its port nacelle—barreling back toward him.

  All right, then. Lee gulped, closed his eyes, and thought of his wife.

  A violent explosion crashed, sweeping a hard gust of heat over Lee’s face. He opened his eyes. A massive object rose through the smoke as the Phantom plummeted to its demise. Overlook.

  Danny’s voice sounded in Lee’s helmet. “What’s up, bro?”

  Lee exhaled, grateful for the backup comm unit in his seat rig. “So much for sittin’ out of this like you were told.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Daredevil, this is Sandman.” Noll’s voice was saturated in gunfire. “We’re taking heavy fire down here, and you’re about to drop straight into the middle of it.”

  Lee looked down to see where the remaining centurions had left the cover of their pods and were advancing on Noll’s position at the foot of the mesa. To the sergeant major’s credit, he’d somehow found a way to whittle their numbers down to a manageable eleven. Still, with no air support, it was a far cry from a fair fight.

  “Any chance your friends up there could render us some assistance in that—” Noll broke off. “Whatever that thing is?”

  Lee returned his gaze to the corvette turned trash barge. “Overlook, you copy that?”

  The ship responded by tilting to port and opening its maw. The forward batteries extended, and a massive plume of sand, dust, and flame billowed from dead center of the centurion formation. When the smoke cleared, their numbers had dwindled from eleven to nine. The remainder fell back to their drop pods.

  The ground loomed at Lee’s feet. “Sandman, I’m lookin’ at about an eighty-meter sprint from my position to yours when I hit. Can you cover that?”

  “We’ll do our best,” Noll answered.

  Lee’s attention jerked back to Overlook, which pivoted away from him and opened its cargo hold. He smirked when a lone figure stepped to the mouth of the bay. And here we go.

  Mr. Black tipped him a wave. “Head for the mesa as soon as you touch sand. I’ll clear the road for you.”

  “Danny, wait—”

  The black behemoth leapt from Overlook’s cargo hold and dropped like a stone some fifty meters, landing nimbly in a sprawl before Noll and the ot
hers.

  The sergeant major must’ve had his comm open, because Lee heard him say with no shortage of surprise, “Tucker?”

  “Good to see you again, sir.” Danny launched into a sprint toward the incoming centurions, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

  Lee hit the ground in time to see Danny leap from his feet and plow fist-first, bayonet extended into the lead centurion. Staggered and stunned, the alien backpedaled to protect itself but was too late. Danny’s blade sheered through its helmet with a loud shing then ripped free, the subsequent hole being filled with the barrel of Mr. Black’s XL. The weapon spun to life, and the Kurgorian pitched over without the back of its armored head.

  Danny whirled back to Lee. “Run!”

  Lee sprang to his feet, popped his chute, and took off for the mesa, where Noll and the rest of his team were offering Danny all the firepower assistance they could. Once he’d reached their position, Lee slid for cover behind a rock face and peered back to the open as Danny drew down on the other centurions. Sparks, sand, and shrapnel flew everywhere.

  At first, the group retreated, doubtless stunned at having been attacked by one of their own. But then the tide shifted. Mr. Black staggered backward under a heavy wave of fire.

  “Danny!” Lee caught a rifle from Noll, racked back the slide, and threw it to his shoulder. The weapon blazed to life.

  Taking advantage of the respite, Danny regained his footing and deployed his shoulder launchers as Overlook soared by overhead. The air around the pods ignited.

  “Sandman, Sandman, this is Keystone!”

  Noll tagged his earpiece. “Tell me you’re ready to fly, Layla.”

  “We’re set,” she replied, “and not a minute too soon. Sensors just spotted additional Phantoms inbound.”

  “Squad count?” Noll asked.

  “Eight,” Layla said. “The colonel’s got Jester coming to pick you up. We’ll rendezvous in orbit to jump.”

  “Belay that!” Danny shouted, under clear duress. “Have Rollins recall Jester, and jump as soon as you’re away. I’ll get these guys out on Overlook.”

  “Hurricane, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Later, Layla!” Mr. Black staggered again when a fresh volley of red pounded his chest. “Just do it already!”