At Circle's End

by Ian J. Malone

  * * *

  Danny awoke to a mild vibration in the floor. He sat upright and heard the engines outside rise in pitch, typically the sign of an added workload. We must be entering the atmosphere. That was good. It meant he wouldn’t have to find a way onto the planet by himself. A few seconds later, the engine settled—doubtless, they were through the stratosphere—before decelerating to an eventual slumber.

  And we’re down. A group of voices and footfalls clamored outside of the bin, and Danny waited for them to go before sliding open the lid to climb out. From there, he moved on to the main corridor and back out to the lift, where he peered up the atrium at a large group assembling on Deck Three. They were filing out of sight. When in Rome…Danny crossed his fingers and chose Deck Three from the level select.

  A wave of relief washed over Danny when he emerged through the exit hatch into broad daylight. He was standing on an airfield, but not just any airfield—it was one he recognized. Fort Donner. Holy crap, we touched down right outside of Eurial!

  Danny’s relief became excitement. With a bit of luck and location, he’d have a gun to Masterson’s head by nightfall.

  “Oxygen reserves at six percent,” the armor alerted in red.

  And there goes my disguise. Danny frowned and reminded himself that he wouldn’t have gotten far anyway. As Kurgorian command structure went, centurions were little more than foot-solider muscle. That meant they usually had little in the way of access.

  Danny would need a change of clothes.

  Moving gingerly down the ramp so as to avoid toppling over, Danny made his way off the platform and across the frosted tarmac, where a unit of grunts in cold-weather gear cut in front of him on their morning physical training session. There were only a few in the group, and the street around them was utterly devoid of activity. Come to think of it, the whole base was a ghost town—a stark contrast to the madhouse it’d been the last time Danny had been here.

  He paused and looked around. Where is everybody?

  Remembering the clock he was on, Danny dismissed the thought and headed for a cluster of hangars off the southern green space. As with everywhere else, there wasn’t much traffic in that area, and he hoped to find a spot where he could ditch his stolen armor and procure some new attire.

  Fortune smiles. The first hangar was empty save for a tool station on the back wall and a disabled shuttle on the repair wrack, its port nacelle open. There was also a row of lockers to his right.

  A gust of cold pelted Danny’s skin when he dismounted from his armor and ran barefooted toward them. Locker one, nothing. Locker two, nope. Locker three. He lunged backward, nostrils aflame at the stench, but his fingers found fabric just the same. Who wore this, Stinky frickin’ McGee? He searched, shivering, for alternative clothing but found none.

  Danny sighed.

  He pulled the coveralls from the locker—every inch of them doused in body odor or engine grease—slipped into them, and savored their warmth before reaching for the boots, which like the coveralls, were only slightly oversized. Last but not least was the patrol cap.

  Danny dusted the hat against his leg, drew it low over his eyes, and inspected himself in a nearby piece of steel. Not bad, so long as I breathe through my mouth. He grimaced again.

  Danny was almost out of the hangar when the thought hit him. The call. For a second, he hesitated, not sure if he had the time. Then, putting a hand to the engine nacelle and finding it cold, he surmised that whoever had been working in here had probably shipped out with the others some time ago.

  Danny stepped back and surveyed the communications array on the shuttle’s roof. It looked intact. No time like the present, I suppose.

  Once inside, Danny found his way to the cockpit dash, where he located the shuttle’s comm system among its myriad controls. He flipped a pair of switches and waited for it to come online.

  All right, Mac. Time to see if that handful of hacker pointers you gave me was worth my time. Danny cracked his knuckles. A direct comm link to Aura was out of the question. Not only did this shuttle’s unit not have the requisite range, but any transmission to an ASC receiver would be flagged in seconds by the Alystierian buoy network.

  Fortunately for Danny, he wasn’t sending to an ASC receiver. His receiver was an Alystierian battle corvette, Scythe class.

  Come on, Reeg; don’t be asleep at the wheel. Danny draped his pirate signal in a fresh layer of encryption then reached for the Broadcast key. “Overlook, this is Mr. Black. I need a copy, and I need it now.”

  No answer.

  “Overlook, this is Mr. Black. I need a copy.”

  The crest on the screen flickered then filled abruptly with the scene of Overlook’s cockpit—Reegan’s astonished face at center frame. “Top, is that you?”

  Danny exhaled. “Yeah, Reeg, it’s me.”

  “Slaring hell, man; we’ve been worried sick about you.” Reegan ran both sets of fingers through his hair. “Seriously, Lee and the others have had the intelligence guys working overtime to find your location. Where in the hell are you?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  Danny flashed a wry smile. “I’m on Alystier. Fort Donner, to be exact.”

  Reegan’s jaw hit the dash. “How in the worlds did—”

  “Listen, Reeg, I don’t have time to explain right now. I just called to let everyone know that I’m okay. I’ve got this from here.”

  Reegan thinned his lips. “You’re going after him, aren’t you?”

  Danny gave a slow nod. “It’s time, Reeg. I had an opportunity on Thawnose to get here, and I took it. If I make it out of this in one piece, you’ve got my word I’ll come back. But for now, this is the way it’s gotta be. Tell Lee and Mac I’ll—”

  “Uh, sir?” Reegan intervened. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever it is, you might be out of time for it.”

  Danny arched an eyebrow.

  “Stuff’s changed since Thawnose, Top. Everything’s changed, actually.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  Reegan looked away then back to the camera, his expression filled with apprehension. “We just got word about three hours ago that Masterson and the grays are…”

  Danny leaned in. “Masterson and the grays are what?”

  Reegan swallowed. “They’re planning to invade Aura.”

  Now it was Danny’s turn to be blindsided. “You can’t be serious.”

  Reegan nodded. “It’s true. They’re coming for Aura herself—not one of the outlying systems, not even Kendara. They’re coming straight for our home, and they’re bringing their Kurgorian friends with them.”

  Danny’s head fell back against the pilot-seat headrest. So that’s where everybody’s at. He sat up. “How’d we come by the intel?”

  “Commander Ovies, the XO of the Kamuir, apparently had a change of heart. He defected after Thawnose and spilled his guts in exchange for a deal.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Ovies says the grays’ fleet is set to deploy from Alystier in eighteen hours.”

  Danny snarled under his breath. Damn it. Why now when I’m so close? Still, hard as he fought them, the solider and the friend in Danny couldn’t avoid asking the question. “All right, bring me up to speed. How big is the invasion force?”

  “Ninety-eight imperial ships, give or take, a third of them hybrids.”

  “And the ASC’s defense?”

  “Admiral Katahl has recalled every able ship to join in the fight. Per last count, that gives the ASC a good eighty-six vessels to work with, fighters and ancillary craft not included.”

  Danny glanced away in thought. That’ll work versus the grays but not against warbirds. “What about the Kurgorians? How many ships are they bringing to this fight?”

  “Ovies says they’ve got nine in orbit around Alystier. As for how many more they can bring in, he’s not sure.”

  Danny cupped his face. “Our guys won’t
last an hour against that kind of firepower.”

  Reegan winced. “What do you want us to do, Top? On Overlook, I mean?”

  Danny rubbed his head stubble. “I leave that entirely up to you, Reeg. The same goes for Doc, Shotz, and Remy. None of you are ASC, so this isn’t your fight. If you decide to bail, take Overlook and fly. I certainly wouldn’t hold it against you.”

  Reegan withdrew at the suggestion, his face filled with conflict. He was Auran—born, bred, and raised—so ASC or not, this couldn’t be easy on him. As for the others…well, they’d do what they had to.

  The young pilot’s expression turned earnest. “What about you? What are you going to do?”

  Danny chuckled. “I was locked into this fight a long time ago, bro. I’m in it whether I want to be or not.”

  Reegan nodded. “I’ll tell the others.”

  “Thanks Reeg,” Danny said. “Take care of yourself, all right? Mr. Black—”

  “Hey, Sarge?” Reegan interrupted. “If I don’t get the chance to tell you this later, for whatever reason, I want you to know that it’s been my life’s honor to serve with you both here on Overlook and back with the 102.” At that point Les Reegan, ex-ASC corporal and communications specialist, rose to his feet and snapped a salute so crisp it couldn’t have been diagramed any better.

  Danny almost rolled his eyes but caught himself. “You’re an amazing soldier, Reeg, and an even better friend. You’re also buying the first round at the Burner back in Detron when this is all over.”

  Reegan laughed. “Slare that, sir. I say we sucker some poor mark at a Kachuro ring into picking up our whole tab.”

  Danny managed a smile. “Fine, you’re on. Tucker out.”

  After the channel disconnected, Danny sat back in his seat and considered his friends’ situation. Eighty-six Auran ships versus an Alystierian armada and nine or more Kurgorian warbirds. He shuddered. They’ll be slaughtered.

  Danny steepled his fingers at his chest, his thoughts turning inexplicably back to a conversation he’d had with Zier in their cell.

  “You want to know the saddest part about it?” the ex-chancellor had asked. “The Alystierian people? The real ones that you don’t see on the battlefield? Most of them are well-educated, well-meaning citizens who want nothing more than safety and security for their families. Unfortunately for them, part of being well-educated is having all of the facts, and facts, in this media climate, are hard things to come by.”

  The faintest glimmer of a plan flickered in Danny’s mind, and he hated the very thought of it. Damn you, Chancellor. This is your war, not mine. Not anymore. And yet, as much as Danny wanted to believe that—as much as he wanted to forget about all of it and go full bore after Masterson—he knew he couldn’t. Too many people had been touched by the war, and more would be touched by it before this was all over. Lee, Mac, Link, Hamish, Katie, his crew on Overlook—all of them were all in Masterson’s crosshairs, the very spot he’d fought so hard and sacrificed so much to keep them from.

  It wasn’t fair. Danny gazed through the shuttle’s forward viewport. He’d never been one to believe in fate, or coincidence, or even God for that matter, much as Lee and Hamish had always espoused those things. Regardless, the fact remained that there he was, sitting alone behind enemy lines in the one place where no one else could be—in a position to kick this whole, mucked-up mess onto its earhole.

  Screw it. Go big or go home, right babe? Danny’s thoughts returned to his plan. It was thin, really thin. So thin, in fact, that he actually laughed out loud considering it. He’d need some help.

  Danny keyed a final set of text instructions to Reegan and rose from the cockpit. In reality, he hadn’t a clue if this would work. What he did know, however, was that he had one thing going for him: Masterson’s ego. It had to be at an all-time high if he meant to attack Aura, and if Danny’s instincts were right, that might well be the best edge they could have asked for.

  Ultimately, success would ride on three things: Reegan’s ability to get what Danny needed in time, Lee’s ability to take a cue on the fly when the time came, and last but not least, Zier’s assessment of his people’s moral character actually proving to be legit.

  Danny felt good about the middle one, anyway. He snatched up his cap and headed for the hangar exit.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 26: A Brother’s Instinct

  His meeting with the Kennox flight crew on Aura’s defense completed, Lee waited for the last of his pilots to exit the briefing room before grabbing his tablet and swiping to the latest intel on Danny. Come on, brother, where are you? All he found were empty data projections and blank star charts.

  Lee huffed and flipped the device onto the podium where it landed with a clack.

  “Whoa, take it easy, champ.” Mac re-entered the room and joined him down front. “What’d that hardware ever do to you?”

  “I’m sorry, babe.” Lee sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m just…runnin’ out of ideas here, and it’s buggin’ the hell out of me.”

  “No news from central intelligence, then?”

  “No, none. At last check, the Alystierian force that hit us at Thawnose pinged a buoy on its way through the Korballa system. That could put them headed as far out as Kyma space or as far in as the imperial core. There’s just no way to tell.” Lee rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I just don’t get it, Mac. Danny knows we’re here to help him—that we want to help him—and yet every time stuff goes wrong, he falls back on this lone-wolf, man-of-constant-sorrow crap. Why won’t he let us support him?”

  Mac put up a hand. “Hey, dude, you’re preaching to the choir here. We just got Danny back, and now he’s gone again? Trust me. I think it sucks, too. But that’s apparently how he wants it.”

  “See, that’s what I can’t wrap my head around.” Lee hunched forward, elbows on the podium. “As a group, we’ve never operated that way, ever. At least…we didn’t use to.”

  Mac chewed her lip. “Eh, yes and no.”

  Lee raised an eyebrow.

  “The funny thing about brothers,” Mac said, “and I should know since I’ve got three of them, is that no matter how alike they are, they inevitably always deal with certain things differently. Take you, for example. You’re all about family. For as long as I’ve known you, your natural instinct when crap hits the fan is to rally the troops to lean on each other. ‘We’re all in this together,’ so to speak. It’s what you know, it’s what you’re good at, and that’s mostly on account of your upbringing.”

  Lee turned and faced her. “Can’t say I follow.”

  “The Summerstons are a tight bunch, man, and when the going gets tough, the tough gang up as a team to dogpile the issue. Fast-forward to the present, and that’s engrained a sense of community in you that’s informed every relationship you’ve ever had, ours included.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Mac raised a finger. “Danny didn’t have that growing up. He had his mom. That’s it, and when she passed, that left him with no community whatsoever outside of us.” She paused, expression dimming. “And then Madisyn came along.”

  Lee cringed.

  “Exactly,” Mac agreed. “My point here is this: both of you guys love your friends, no doubt about it. But when things go south, it’s our nature as individuals to revert back to the behaviors we know. For you, that means pulling people together to combat the problem. For Danny, it means pushing them away until he can figure things out on his own. Listen, I didn’t like it any more than you did last year when Danny left us at Coralin 3. But in retrospect, I get why he did it just as I now get why he left us at Thawnose. All we can do going forward is sit back and chill until he brings us into the fold and then be there for him like gangbusters. That’s how we help him.”

  Lee huffed and looked away. “So, what you’re sayin’ is I need to sit on my hands and do nothin’ till Danny resurfaces.”

  “Not at all.” Mac tilted his chin back to face her. “Yo
u’re the lead pilot on a Seneca-class, deep-space light cruiser, Lee. You’ve got no shortage of responsibilities to keep you busy. What you cannot do is continue pacing these halls like a big cat in a small cage. It’s not doing you any good, nor is it helping Danny or the people you’re about to lead into battle. You’ve got to relax, babe. That’s all there is to it.” She folded her arms. “To quote a favorite film of ours, ‘Don’t wait for it to happen. Don’t even want it to happen. Just watch, and see what does happen.’”

  Try as he might not to, Lee couldn’t help but chuckle at that. For one, he was always a sucker for a good Untouchables reference. For another, and more importantly, it never failed to amaze him just how easily and accurately his wife could peg him. She’d always had a knack for that.

  Lee threw her a sideways grin. “Appreciate the wisdom, Malone.”

  “It’s what I do,” Mac answered in her best Sean Connery. “Now, Trebek, I’ll take swords for a thousand.”

  “Praetorian to Captain Summerston,” Floyd announced through the podium terminal.

  Lee reached up and tapped the Respond key. “Go for Summerston.”

  “Sir, Sergeant Tucker just made contact with Overlook.”

  Lee bolted upright. “What did he say?”

  “No idea. But the admiral wants you over here on the double.”

  “Go,” Mac mouthed.

  Lee kissed her cheek then answered, “On my way.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 27: Finding a Mark

  Striving for the lowest profile possible, Danny hiked across Fort Donner toward the east gate, which would take him into the city. Of course, how he’d get through it was anyone’s guess at that point. But, since it wasn’t a pressing issue just yet, he opted not to dwell on it.

  One crisis at a time. Passing a set of barracks next to the base’s post exchange, Danny rounded a corner to find a canvas-topped supply truck idling outside of a brick-and-mortar admin building. Nice wheels.