At Circle's End

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At Circle's End Page 29

by Ian J. Malone


  Slowly, they moved aside.

  “Lee, look out.”

  Lee jerked up to see a Beyonder escape pod barreling toward them, weapons hot. Shit.

  With his friend in his left arm and his rifle in his right, Lee responded with the only protest he had—a steady stream of pulse fire. The pod slipped past it and took aim.

  Take care of her, God. Lee slammed his eyes shut when a magnificent ball of light exploded in front of them.

  That was it. They were done, dead, over…except that Lee was still breathing. Gradually, he raised his head and peeked past his gauntlet. Hamish!

  The ASC light cruiser, Triton, swooped down like a Valkyrie from the heavens, main batteries blazing, and eviscerated the pod on contact.

  “What the hell?” Danny murmured.

  The hapless craft was dust on impact.

  Its first job complete, the Triton tilted to port and fired two magnetic tow cables from one of its ventral cargo bays. They connected to Lee, who pulled one free and attached it to Danny. “Stick with me, brother—we’re almost home.”

  It took them less than twenty seconds to enter the bay, where Hamish was already waiting with a team of engineers and medics. Once Danny and Lee were down, Hamish sealed the bay from the nearby ops room then rushed in with his people when the atmosphere had been restored.

  “Hang on, lads!” Hamish hurried to Lee’s side as the latter popped his armor release.

  Excited for freedom and fresh air, Lee spilled out of the suit in a heap, hands clutching his mouth as the last of his stomach control gave way. Green and yellow goo spattered the deck plates.

  “Take it easy.” Hamish threw a cover over Lee’s back. “Just take it easy now.”

  “Help Danny.” Lee gagged past the fire of his throat. “He’s hurt.”

  Hamish ran to Danny’s side as Lee staggered to his feet to join him. The armor splayed open, and both men peered inside to find an even paler than usual Danny covered in blood.

  “Oh, lad, what’ve you done to yerself?” Hamish reached out to his friend but was gestured aside by a medic. “Be still, brother. Help is here.”

  Danny did as instructed, coughing a spray of red onto his bare chest.

  A voice sounded over the bay speakers. “We’ve got incoming!”

  Lee limped, woozy legs and all, to the first porthole he could reach. There he hunched in fright at the glass. Oh no.

  A small dash of light jettisoned from the Vanxus then turned, found its heading, and streaked toward Aura’s atmosphere.

  Lee pounded the wall with his fist. “Somebody tell Praetorian to—” He stopped short when a second bolt of light blistered past the porthole, this one far larger and trailed by a steady stream of drive wash.

  It was a Mako, and it was alone.

  Lee’s heart shot into his throat. “Mac!”

  The fighter banked hard then laid in a pursuit course for the torpedo, closing fast.

  “Talk to me, Lee,” Danny gurgled. “What’s going on? What do you see?”

  Lee didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just watched, helpless, as the Mako closed the gap between it and the weapon then matched the other’s speed from just meters above it.

  The Mako’s wings swept back, and its afterburners went full white.

  Baby, no. Lee’s heart stopped with revelation. Please don’t do this.

  There was a surge of light, and just like that, both objects—the Mako and the weapon—vanished into hyperspace.

  A collective state of shock gripped the bay as no one—not Danny, nor Hamish, nor the medics, nor even the bridge crew on comm—made a sound. There was only the graveside silence of open space.

  A pinprick of light dotted the black in back of the solar system. It wasn’t a dot, of course, but more like an explosion the size of upstate New York. It just looked small because Lee’s wife had put it far out of harm’s way.

  The world, as it were, was saved—just not Lee Summerston’s world. His had ended with the pinprick. Mac…

  As the tiniest of energy waves dissipated into a harmless nothing, Lee lost all track of himself. There was no place. There was no time. There was no life for him without her. After everything they’d been through, after everything they’d fought for and bled for and sacrificed for to reunite their family, how in the name of all that was holy could it have ended this way? It just wasn’t conceivable.

  Another window opened next to the Triton, but Lee paid it no mind. It was far too big to belong to a fighter, and just then, that was all he cared about. Instead, he collapsed trembling to the deck and buried his face in his hands as every Auran around him whooped in triumph.

  “Ahem,” a gruff voice said through the comm unit on Hamish’s coveralls.

  Lee ignored it.

  “Ahem!” the voice insisted.

  Hamish left Danny’s side to approach the porthole. “Uh, Lee?”

  “What?” Lee wiped his eyes and saw his friend’s expression turn lopsided.

  “Ye might want a look at this.”

  Slowly, Lee got to his feet and surveyed the object of Hamish’s curiosity. It was a ship, but not just any ship. It was Overlook.

  What the—

  “This is Jester, paging Daredevil and Hurricane.”

  Hamish pulled the comm from his coveralls and keyed the mic. “Jester, this is Triton. It’s bloody good to see ye, but this is hardly a good time.”

  “Copy that, Triton.” Link yawned. “Lee and Danny with you?”

  “Aye,” Hamish said. “Danny’s hurt pretty bad, but the medics have him. Lee’s right here with me.”

  “Put ol’ Captain America on the line.”

  Lee glowered at the handheld device then plucked it from Hamish’s grasp and put it to his own lips. “What do you want, Link? And why are you on Overlook and not with your squad, defending the Keystone?”

  Static popped. “I needed to make a house call. Don’t fret, though—the colonel signed my permission slip this time, so I didn’t have to go AWOL.”

  Lee wrinkled his nose. “House call? What house call?”

  “Seriously?” Link sounded hurt. “Did you somehow miss the part where I’m not going to jail to be butt buddies with Bubba Ho-Tep for my heroism here? Well screw you, too, El Capitán!”

  Lee flared his nostrils. “Get to the damn point, Link, what are—”

  More static garbled the line as two people fought for mic control at the other end.

  Finally, a female voice filled the line—and filled Lee’s soul with it. “Enough chatter, morons. I’ve got a date with my husband to get to where I plan on kicking his ass then tearing his clothes off afterward. Now can we go or what?”

  Lee’s sigh could’ve toppled the Sears Tower. “Link, I don’t know how you pulled this off. But brother, I will owe you till the day I die.”

  “Wish I could hog all the credit, my man, but I’m just a stand-in for Reegan at the wheel,” Link said. “That little miracle you just witnessed of boosting a Mako pilot in midjump? Dude, that’s way over my pay grade.”

  Lee traded confused looks with Hamish. Then who…?

  “Huh-huh-hang in there, bossman!” The faint voice was fraught with concern. Its owner had obviously heard of Danny’s injuries.

  “Remy,” Danny breathed, eyes fighting to stay open. “You beautiful little spaz.”

  “Doc’s on board, bossman,” Remy rushed out. “We’ll getcha patched up real good. You’ll see! Nuh-nuh-nothing to worry about!”

  Lee cast a gaze through the porthole at the awesome star-scape before him. The weapon fire had decreased to little more than a drizzle at that point as most of the Kurgorian ships had either been neutralized or outright destroyed. The others were limping away in an attempt to flee, but the wall of ships before them—Auran and Alystierian—would doubtless prevent that from happening.

  It’s over.

  “Hey, Hamish,” Mac cut in. “Doc wants Danny moved to Overlook as soon as the med team has him stabilized. He’s standing by
in the infirmary now.”

  “Aye, copy that,” Hamish said. “Have Link circle back to Docking Bay Four on the Triton’s starboard side. I’ll have crews standing by to receive ye there.”

  “Ruah,” Mac said. “Overlook out.”

  Lee laughed as the Alystierian battle corvette turned garbage scow cruised out of sight. “I’ll be damned. Who woulda thunk that—” He keeled over unconscious as the last of his strength left him, but his smile never faltered.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 43: Farewells

  Danny awoke to a diamond-splitter headache and the familiar confines of Overlook’s infirmary. He massaged his temples. “Ah, crap. This sucks.”

  “I know, right?” Lee groaned from the next bed over. “Man, I ain’t had a hangover like this since the Old Swindler scotch experiment in college.”

  Danny winced even harder. “Nothing touches Old Swindler, bro. Not even this.”

  Doc emerged from the supply closet with a pair of fresh IV bags. “The Kurgorian juice is always the worst. Thankfully, however, its effects are far from irreversible. A few more hours of fluids, and you’ll both be right as rain.”

  Lee raised an eyebrow. “Nice metaphor there, Doc.”

  “Thank you. Granted, I have no idea what would make rain right or wrong, but I heard Danny use the expression once, and I found it…” Doc searched for the word. “Serene.”

  Danny returned his woozy head to the soft fabric of his pillow and stared at the ceiling. “So, where’s everybody else?”

  “On the Praetorian for a debriefing with President Wylon, Chancellor Zier, and the others,” Doc said. “Commander Summerston was here earlier to check on her husband, but you were both still out.”

  “Chancellor?” Danny noted something in the old man’s inflection. “As in, no longer ex?”

  Doc shook his head. “As soon as the battle was over, parliament called an emergency session and had Lucius reinstated at once to office. They said it was to help expedite the reconstruction process.”

  That drew a grunt from Danny. “I’ll bet the Eurial Sun had a field day with that one. How’d those vultures spin it, anyway? Exiled former chancellor turns traitor to regain power?”

  “Believe it or not, they embraced the move with open arms.” Doc held out his hands. “How could they not? Once word of Zier’s reinstatement got out, ninety-eight percent of the public approved of it.”

  Danny smiled. Part of him was thrilled to see that mullet-wrapper network eat some crow for once. The other part of him, the bigger part, was just happy for Zier. Good on you, Chancellor. Your people are in good hands.

  Once they were well enough to move, Danny and Lee got dressed and hopped a shuttle over to Praetorian, where they were greeted on the flight deck by Mac and the others, each of whom were in uniform.

  Lee’s fresh wounds yelped in protest when he hugged his wife, not that it deterred him any. “What in the world were you thinkin’, goin’ after that weapon like that?” He leaned away. “Do you have any idea what seein’ that explosion did to me?”

  Mac stepped back and folded her arms. “Are you really asking me that, oh ye great and exalted hero of Dulaston?”

  “Oof.” Danny acknowledged her point then looked at his buddy. “That’s game, set, match, amigo.”

  “I did what I had to, Lee,” Mac went on. “I did what you would’ve done—what any of us would’ve done, and have done countless times over since we started all of this. Somebody had to act, and there wasn’t time to talk about it. It just so happens that, in this instance, the wheel above the bar spun round to my color for a change. Now.” She craned her neck and straightened into her best stately pose. “How about you step off for a hot minute and let someone else bask in the glory?”

  “Spotlight troll.” Link coughed into his fist next to Layla.

  Lee shot him a sardonic look but offered no further protest. He just hugged his wife. “I love you, Mac.”

  “Love you, too, Lee.”

  “Oh, dear lord.” Danny grumbled. “Get a frickin’ room, already.”

  “I know, right?” Katie muttered next to Wyatt.

  Hamish, meanwhile, added nothing. He just stood there, smiling.

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside of the hangar, and Admiral Katahl appeared. President Wylon, Chancellor Zier, and Nate Briggs trailed in behind him.

  “There’s the Briggs I know.” Danny pointed to Briggs’ freshly cropped hair and clean-cut officer’s appearance. “Good to see you back as your old self.”

  “Likewise, Tucker.” Briggs halted and extended his hand. “I see that, once again, you’ve managed to skirt the odds and make it home in one piece. That’s a good thing.”

  “I thought so.” Danny stepped back and examined Briggs’ new uniform. It was all black with red piping, the one worn exclusively by Alystier’s commandant. “Uniform’s a bit of a new look for you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, well…” Briggs ruffled the fresh stubble on the back of his head. “You’ll have to talk to the chancellor about that. This was his choice.”

  “On the contrary, Commandant.” Zier stepped forward. “There was no choice at all. Alystier’s fleet should always be led by a commander of impeccable character and integrity. And—” the chancellor raised a finger “—by someone who won’t stab me in the slaring back to take my job.”

  The entire group shared a laugh.

  “A fine selection indeed, sir,” Hamish said. “Truly, those are the hallmarks of a worthy commander.”

  Zier signaled his shuttle pilot that he was ready to leave for the Kamuir, which held in orbit next to Praetorian. “Commandant Briggs, after ten long months, the time has finally come for you and me to return home.”

  “So, what does this mean?” Danny looked to Zier then to Wylon. “You guys have buried the hatchet now, and you’re all one big happy family again?”

  Wylon shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far. The war between Aura and Alystier is over, yes, but there are still factions out there who don’t want to see us come together. Plus—and I think the chancellor would agree—there are still vast philosophical differences between our two societies that will need reconciling. True unification won’t come overnight, and it may never come at all.” The Auran president turned to his imperial counterpart. “But it’s nice to know that when and if it does, I’ll have a partner on the other side of the aisle fighting every bit as hard for it as I’ll be.”

  “Indeed you will, Mr. President. Indeed you will.” Zier shook Wylon’s hand then turned for the shuttle. “Admiral Katahl, I thank you for your patience and your hospitality these last months. Sergeant Tucker, Captain Summerston—save for Commandant Briggs, I don’t know that I’ve ever met people the caliber of you and your team. Your heart, your compassion, your will to stand for what’s right—they are beyond boundless.” Zier rose to his full height and faced them. “I know nothing of your world, wherever it is. I only know that you, my friends, are a testament to its greatness. The ASC is lucky to have you moving forward.”

  Danny shied away from that last statement. His standing with the ASC had yet to be decided, and while he didn’t think things would get nasty, nothing was official. Regardless, he didn’t see himself back in uniform. Too much had happened, and he wasn’t that guy anymore.

  “If there is ever anything I can do for you,” Zier concluded. “Please…do not hesitate to call.”

  “Chancellor.” Lee saluted.

  “Captain,” Zier returned.

  “Take care of yourself, Summerston,” Briggs said. “Oh, and do me a favor.”

  “Name it,” Lee said.

  Briggs aimed a thumb at Danny. “Try to keep this idiot out of trouble.”

  Lee smiled. “No promises, Commandant. In case you ain’t noticed, troublemakin’ kinda runs in our crew.”

  “You know, somehow I get that.” Briggs threw him a wry grin. “Ladies, gentlemen. Until next time.”

  * * *

  “So, Mr. Pres
ident, sir.” Link rubbed his hands together once Zier’s shuttle had departed the bay. “We gonna see you on the party train for our little celebratory soiree later? Everybody’s coming, you know.”

  Wylon chuckled. “Sadly, Lieutenant, as much as I’d love the break, now is not the time for me to go on holiday. I’ve got a world in transition to govern, and twelve thousand Kurgorian prisoners of war to see to.”

  “I presume you’ve got a plan for the latter?” Lee asked.

  Wylon nodded. “I do. Lucius and I discussed it. We’re letting them go.”

  “Whoa, what?” Danny shot up straight. “You’re doing what?”

  “We’re letting them patch up their last functional ship from the battle so they can use it to return home to their people in the Rynzer Expanse. They’ll do so under armed escort, of course, until they vacate our space. But the chancellor and I thought it the prudent decision for moving forward.”

  Mac scratched her head. “It’s the gracious one, anyhow.”

  “Perhaps,” Wylon said. “But to borrow a line from one of my counterparts on Earth, we saw this as a ‘stick and carrot’ situation. Aura tried the stick a century ago with Tomys Rayner’s mission to Kurgoria and look where that got us. The hope is that, by letting these survivors return home, their High Council will be far more amenable to the idea of letting us be rather than attacking us again.”

  “And if they’re not amenable?” Hamish asked.

  Wylon shrugged. “Well, then we’ll be ready. Only this time, Aura will fight the Beyonders back-to-back with Alystier, not divided as we were before. Still, let’s hope it never comes to that, and instead, I get to attend your party on the next pass around.”

  “Gonna be a helluva shindig.” Link grinned.

  “Of that, Mr. Baxter, I have no doubt.” Wylon turned to Danny. “Can I have a word?”

  Danny escorted Aura’s president into a vacant shuttle slip so they could talk alone.

  “I have something for you.” Wylon fished a set of papers from his coat pocket and handed them over.

 

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