His alphas exploded, taking out two enemy missiles. He swerved to the side as if about to engage in an evasive maneuver, as any Biozi pilot would in his situation. As the Arachnids took the bait and set an intercept course, he suddenly changed direction and rushed straight toward them.
The last two pursuing missiles missed him, also confused by his apparently erratic maneuvers. He didn’t have time to get a lock on the Arachnids, so he shot two missiles in fried-or-foe mode. Then he sprayed the space before him with a barrage of blaster fire.
One of the Arachnids barreled down, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. The other dodged like mad, chased by Jason’s missiles. Jason jumped on its tail and kept on firing until he took out the appendages that acted as flight stabilizers. A couple of seconds later, the Arachnid disintegrated as one of the alphas scored a hit.
“I still have something to learn from you, commander,” Radge said with a chuckle.
Jason had already switched to the next target. Scoring a victory was always satisfying, but he couldn’t let his guard down even for a fraction of a second.
“I can use an assist,” Porto boomed. “I can’t shake this bug on my tail.”
Another red icon lit up on Jason’s HUD. This time, the computer was warning him that his interceptor was damaged.
“Radge, cut Porto’s tail,” he ordered.
“You got it, boss.” Radge had already initiated his attack run on Porto’s pursuer, blasters blazing.
“One of my wings is badly damaged,” Jason said to his squadron. “Must be debris from the spider I toasted. Need to change birds. Red Jack, you’re in charge in my absence.”
He left the fight and set course on the Phenix. Meanwhile, Squadron Castor had destroyed the ground defenses and cleared the landing zone of enemy troops. Squadron Bellum had escorted the dropships to the surface, and the APCs were already racing toward the research facility.
“Castor, clear the way for the Barracudas,” Jason ordered. “Anything that looks like ground defenses or concealed tanks, you blow it up. Bellum, you escort Castor and keep the spiders away. I want this done by the book.”
* * *
Talia and her team were treating the security officers wounded during the Earthist attack on the Capitol. Instead of blaster rifles, the Earthists used primitive weapons firing projectiles, such as 9-mm submachine guns and shotguns with armor-piercing rounds. Such weapons had no stun mode, and they caused horrific injuries.
“Operate on this one,” Talia shouted to her assistant. “She’s got a bullet stuck in her scapula. We need more plasma. Someone, give me plasma!”
A wounded civilian was moaning on an operating table. “Give a painkiller shot to that man,” she told a nurse, a young and petite female with dark skin.
The nurse shook her head and stared at her with wide eyes. “We don’t have any left.”
“Oh God,” Talia breathed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. As most professional medics were assigned to ASF ships, she had to work with novices. “Get down to section gamma-seventeen and bring me two boxes of painkillers. Transdermal syringes.”
The Earthists had disabled the distribution systems throughout the ship, and the autopods were down too. Sickbay personnel had to run to the storage rooms for supplies, sometimes even crawl through maintenance shafts to get there.
The nurse nodded and dashed to the doors, but stopped as she bumped into Kwan Kor. She screamed and jerked back. Talia grabbed a laser syringe with a tranquilizer, the only defensive weapon within reach.
“Calm down,” the colonel croaked. “We’re here to free you.”
Talia relaxed only when she saw Riley entering the sickbay. “Oh, am I glad to see you.”
“You’re okay, Talia?” Riley asked.
“I’m unharmed, but we’re swamped here,” Talia replied. “Too many wounded, not enough personnel, and not enough supplies. Distribution and maglev systems are down. Comms are down too. What’s going on?”
“We need to retake the ship,” Riley said. “The Earthists forced the ASF to attack a heavily defended planet. They’re mad. We may lose the entire fleet, if we don’t stop this madness.”
Talia extended her hand. “Give me a blaster. I’m coming with you.”
Riley shook her head. “Not to the bridge, no. Sergeant Mortensen is taking you to the nearest escape pod. You’re needed on the Remembrance. Captain Hunt’s orders.”
“But the president—”
“Isn’t in charge,” Riley cut Talia short. “This is a military op. No time to argue—you’re going now. The rest of us will move toward the bridge.”
“How are you going to reach the bridge with the maglev offline?”
“The old-fashioned way—by running.”
“Doctor, do something for my leg, will you?” Kwan Kor asked.
Talia examined his leg with a medical scanner. “Knee dislocation. I’m surprised you’re able to walk at all.”
“I’m used to pain, doc, as you already know,” he said, referring to his counseling sessions with Talia.
A shadow crossed her face, but she didn’t comment. “Our medical supplies are running low, and there are more seriously injured people here who need treatment.”
Riley stepped closer to Talia and told her in low voice, “I know it’s asking a lot, but right now we need Kwan Kor, and we need him in fighting condition.”
Talia spread her arms in a gesture of powerlessness. “I can’t do the impossible. I can’t magically cure his knee. He won’t run a marathon any time soon.”
“Do what you can, and give him a painkiller,” Riley asked.
Pursing her lips, Talia took out the last transdermal syringe she kept in her personal kit and pressed it against Kwan Kor’s neck. She held her breath as the stench of colonel’s coverall hit her.
Turning to her personnel, she said, “I’m sorry, I have to leave you. Priority mission. Do what you can in my absence.”
She left the sickbay with a heavy heart, feeling like she was abandoning her post. Call it women’s intuition, but she sensed Adrian needed her. The fleet needed her.
* * *
“I must join the strike team,” Adrian stated.
Adisa gave him a sharp look. “What? You truly believe I’ll fall for that?”
He met her gaze. “I worked at that research facility. I still have the plans in my head, stored in the memory of my PA. I can guide the strike team. Please, let me go. This is very important.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me, doctor.”
“Maybe you wonder why your husband was willing to take the risk of leaving his ship to meet with me. I believe I can explain his visions. What he was seeing were messages from a young woman named Ophelia. She tried to communicate with him via beings I call Oneiroi. They can appear in dreams and visions as spirits or angels, but in fact they’re an ancient and highly evolved species that communicates by telepathy.”
Adisa frowned. “Forgive me, doctor, but I find that difficult to believe. Your theory is more far-fetched than anything I’ve ever heard. Even if I make a leap of faith that you’re telling me the truth, why would that young woman contact my husband?”
“Because he was receptive to the Oneiroi’s telepathic messages, and such receptive people are rare. Through Multan, Ophelia tried to contact me. Unfortunately, I figured that out too late. I should’ve reached out to him earlier, but I didn’t trust him enough to do so. I don’t have time to explain everything; the bottom line is my daughter—I mean Ophelia, is detained in that facility, and I must rescue her. She’s important not only to me; she has a special ability that makes her invaluable.”
Adisa turned around and took a few steps away from Adrian, her hand rubbing her cheek as she was pondering.
“I know it sounds crazy,” he continued. “You might think I’ve lost touch with reality, obsessed with my search for Ophelia. But ask yourself—why would the Biozi maintain such a heavy military presence on an insignificant world at the edge of c
harted space? I can tell you why. Because they’re studying an ancient Oneiroi settlement, built at a time when the Oneiroi still had physical bodies. Ophelia is at the heart of this research, as she’s the vessel through which Raak’naar’s scientists communicate with the Oneiroi.”
Adisa turned to Adrian again. “As strange as this story might sound, I believe you, doctor. What my husband told me lines up with this theory, to some extent. But I can’t let you go. You’re the only one who knows the location of Earth.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
“Don’t do that, doctor,” DeCourt warned him.
“They won’t be able to reach Earth without the gravimetric map,” Adrian replied to him. “Anyway, I’ve no choice.”
Adisa nodded. “Very well, doctor. Give us the location of Earth, and I’ll let you go.”
33
Outgunned
Talia was waiting for Adrian on the Remembrance. As the inner doors of the airlock opened and he walked through, she couldn’t repress a smile. He looked tired and disheveled, but he still had that spark in his eyes that Talia found invigorating.
Adrian smiled back at her and was about to extend his hand, but she hugged him. His blue jacket smelled of machine oil, but she didn’t mind. She was just happy to see him alive.
“Another day in the life of the intrepid Dr. Darus,” she said, stepping back from him. Her smile grew wider despite her best efforts to hide her emotion.
He raised his eyebrows. “Intrepid? I’m not a man of action; I’m always telling people that. You, on the other hand… Well, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s gear up and do a quick briefing.”
An autopod transported them to their quarters. Talia took a shower and geared up in a protective suit. Then she went to the sickbay to prepare medical packs, a surgical kit, and other equipment she needed, before proceeding to the briefing room.
The briefing was short and to the point. It was unusual for a civilian to lead a briefing for a military op, but Adrian did a good job. He showed the 3D map of the target facility, displayed the planned route, and commented on the possible locations where Ophelia could be detained. He also warned that the facility could have been altered and expanded since his last visit, so the priority was to get an up-to-date plan of the base.
The Remembrance approached the planet, and Captain Hunt called everyone to battle stations. Talia and Adrian boarded a Spearhead dropship, strapped into G-seats, and waited for launch.
“We never had time to catch up, Talia,” Adrian said. “Always busy, always responding to some emergency. How are you holding up?”
She stared at the ceiling, her mind conjuring images of her native town on Vega. “What can I say? I try not to dwell on the past. That’s the advantage of being the CMO—no time to rest, no time to think, or even feel. But now that I’m thinking about it, I realize how much I miss Vega. How much was lost. A part of me still believes this is all a bad dream, or an awfully realistic sim, and I’ll wake up on my native world. I’ll go outside, take a breath of fresh air, admire the flowers in my garden, and watch the sun rise above the forest. I miss greenery. I miss nature. I can’t believe I’ll die in space, or on some hostile alien planet, and never see Vega again.”
“I’m so sorry about your sister. I remember how I felt when I lost Ophelia, but I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”
“Clio was the only link I still had to Vega, to my past. Now that she’s gone…”
Talia’s voice trailed off, and she remained silent for a moment. She felt Adrian’s hand squeezing hers and turned her head to him. She even gathered enough courage to look him in the eyes.
His expression was serene. “I just wanted you to know,” he encouraged, “how much your presence means to me.”
“I would do anything for Ophelia. Although I didn’t spend as much time with her as you did, she’s like family to me. I still remember that scared little girl we rescued from the Biozi armored train. She looked like a doll, an angel with her curly golden hair and blue eyes.”
“She grew up so quickly,” Adrian said, his smile growing wistful. “Within a year, she was already a young woman. For me, she’ll always remain that doll-like little girl, even though I respect her courage and her intellect. That’s all part of being a parent, I guess. Conflicting feelings. Powerful, all-consuming, paradoxical feelings.”
“We will bring her back.” It was Talia’s turn to squeeze Adrian’s hand, as now he was the one who needed reassurance.
The onboard AI initiated the countdown to deployment, and the Remembrance started shaking as it entered the atmosphere.
“The strike team has secured the entrance to the facility,” Captain Hunt said on the op channel. “The Biozi have brought two carrier battlegroups as reinforcements, but our forces are holding them back for now. Complete the two primary objectives as quickly as possible and get back to the dropship.”
The primary objectives were to free Ophelia and recover the gravimetric map of the Terran sector. The dropship jerked forward and shot out of the hangar. It rocketed toward the mountain that dominated the landscape, a huge triangular shape eclipsing the rising sun.
“Well, you wanted to see greenery,” Adrian said. “You’ll see plenty on Chloris. The whole continent is covered by a luxurious forest, partly bioformed by the Taar’kuun.”
“We won’t see much greenery inside the base, I guess,” Talia replied.
Adrian rocked his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure. The genosimilators always collect samples of the local flora before bioforming a planet. Last time I was here, there was a vast botanical garden at the heart of the research facility.”
“Spiders incoming,” came a voice through the op channel.
“Moving to intercept,” replied the CO of the escorting squadron of Rapiers.
Explosions flashed against the dark shape of the mountain as the Rapiers cleared the way. The dropship swooped onto a landing platform, the doors sliding open even before the craft touched down. Noises of a firefight came from the facility.
“Go, go!” shouted the pilot of the dropship.
Talia and Adrian rushed through the doors. A squad of marines with blaster-resistant shields surrounded them and escorted them to the entrance of the facility.
“We secured the area, but we need to move fast before the bugs bring reinforcements,” the sergeant leading the squad said in a gruff voice. “We’re taking an autopod to the control center.”
Adrian looked around as they walked through a corridor with white walls. “The facility is as I remember it. So clean, so tidy.”
The squad led Talia and Adrian to a large transparent autopod.
“We’ve encountered only light resistance so far,” the sergeant said. “Maybe the cockroaches didn’t expect us to launch a ground assault.”
“Don’t refer to the Taar’kuun as cockroaches or bugs, please,” Adrian asked. “I know it’s psychologically easier to kill a foe when you think of them as vermin, yet they are sentient beings.”
“Sorry, sir,” the sergeant muttered. “Military lingo. But with all due respect, they treat us like vermin and exterminate us, so why shouldn’t we do the same to them?”
Adrian shook his head, but didn’t argue further.
The autopod transported Talia, Adrian, and the marines to the control center. Several Taar’kuun bodies lay on its floor, all civilians judging by their beige coveralls. Other than that, no traces of a firefight were visible.
“Sorry, no time to clean up,” the sergeant apologized. Then he barked to his soldiers to “take out the cold meat.”
They nodded and dragged the corpses out of the control room.
Adrian activated a terminal and displayed the map of the facility on a holo-screen.
“This plan is almost identical to the one stored in the memory of my PA,” he said. “With one important difference—this part here, a recent excavation.”
He pointed at an area the size of a football field protruding from the facili
ty.
“Where’s Ophelia, in your opinion?” Talia asked.
“Just a hunch—she must be there.” He indicated a round structure in the middle of the excavation zone. “But something doesn’t make sense. For Raak’naar, she’s a major asset. I expected her to be guarded by several squads of elite troopers. Where are they? Why aren’t they trying to retake the facility? Are they lying in ambush?”
As if in response to his question, Winsley called on the op channel, “Strike team, immediate evac.”
“We can’t give up now,” Adrian objected. “We’re so close!”
“Mission canceled,” Winsley snapped. “Get out of there, for God’s sake.”
“What’s going on?” Talia asked, alarmed by the urgency in the admiral’s tone.
Adrian put on screen the feed from an external cam of the facility, and they realized the gravity of their situation.
A new star lit the sky, brighter than all the others. It was a white hole, the exit of a large artificial wormhole. Adrian zoomed on the object that emerged from it—a Biozi mobile space station the size of a city. It looked like the skeleton of a giant snake biting its own tail. Its “ribs” pointed planetward, curved blades each the size of a battleship.
“That’s an Ouroboros-class base ship,” the sergeant boomed.
“And it’s headed straight toward us,” Adrian said darkly.
A hologram appeared in the middle of the control room. Talia froze in terror as she recognized Raak’naar.
“I knew you couldn’t resist the temptation, Daar’uun’akn,” the chancellor said to Adrian. “I knew that, one way or another, you would discover the whereabouts of the human you call Ophelia and fly to her rescue. How predictable.”
“You are predictable, Raak’naar,” Adrian said to the hologram. He seemed surprisingly serene given the circumstances. “Of course I knew this was an ambush. I’ve been searching the whole galaxy for Ophelia, so when I learned she was just a jump away, I found that coincidence way too convenient. Do you think I’m oblivious to your machinations? I know about your master plan. I know who spread the retrovirus I designed, and why. You did, usurper.”
Battlegroup Vega Page 23
