Terminus Rising

by T. R. Harris

  As Panur had realized long ago, this was the real goal of the Queen. As the pair grew closer, she told him how she needed a way to convert her body into an immortal. She wanted to exist forever at the helm of the Colony. She was already a god to them, but she wanted more.

  Panur could create an immortal being. What he didn’t know how to do was create one out of someone else.

  At this point, his challenge grew exponentially more difficult, and for all intents and purposes, the project came to a dead end.

  2

  …aboard the Sansa in the Milky Way Galaxy

  Adam Cain felt like death warmed over.

  He was still healing from the effects of his near-death experience in the freezing launch bay of the Aris space station. Although no one mentioned it—at least to his face—he looked like something out of a horror movie, complete with flaking sheets of rotting skin and decubitus sores over parts of his body. The emergency layer of protective skin his subconscious created as a defense against the cold had saved his life. But now it was peeling away, and in places where the damage extended deeper than this barrier, bloody and seeping wounds appeared. His body was healing—better than it would normally have—thanks to the residual effects of the recent mind-meld with Panur. But in the meantime, he looked like someone’s hideous nightmare. That someone was, well, everyone aboard the Sansa, himself included.

  A few hours before, the TD starship had transitioned back into the Milky Way, appearing very near to the planet Sasin. It was the last known location of Te’moc, and even if he wasn’t there, the team might get a line on TeraDon Fief. He was Te’moc’s main contact with the Cartel; they should know where one of their top lieutenants could be found.

  Monty and Tidus weren’t anxious to return to the hellhole of Sasin. Neither was Adam, for that matter, but he felt a familiar confidence knowing that Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus were with him. The band was back together, and it felt good.

  J’nae—with Summer in tow—had jumped the Arya to a random location in the galaxy for the express purpose of throwing Panur off the scent. It worked. At the moment, Adam and his team had no idea where she was or how to find her. But since she was also on a quest to find Te’moc, locating the alien creation made the most sense. Eventually, J’nae would find him, and Adam intended to beat her to the punch.

  Even so, Adam hated missions like this; it wasn’t how SEALs operated. Rather than having a concrete plan covering every aspect and contingency of the operation, he was flying blind. He didn’t know the location of either the Arya or Te’moc, nor did he know the true capabilities of his targets. According to Panur, Te’moc was mortal, which meant he could be killed. That was good. On the other hand, J’nae was immortal, although being trapped inside Summer’s body meant her powers could be neutralized. Of course, that would mean killing Summer, which was something he wasn’t prepared to do, at least not yet. However, if it came down to that or the destruction of the universe, it was a no brainer. But that was a choice he didn’t have to make at this time, if ever. His priority was keeping the Arya out of Te’moc’s hands. If the alien managed to acquire the vessel and learn of the Aris and their assimilation of the Essence of J’nae, the operation the Aris had underway to contain the rip between dimensions would be in jeopardy. His other goal was to keep Te’moc from killing Summer while extracting J’nae’s essence from her body.

  Killing Te’moc first would achieve both of his objectives. Unfortunately, saving Summer was a secondary concern, although he would never tell that to her father, Monty Pitts.

  “So what’s the plan, Stan?” Sherri Valentine asked Adam as the members of the team crowded onto the bridge for a pre-mission briefing. “We’re one ship against an entire base of Cartel assholes. This could be fun.”

  Adam didn’t know if she was serious or being sarcastic. Knowing her, it was probably a little of both.

  “Let me help,” offered Riyad Tarazi before Adam could answer. He flashed his trademark white smile at Adam. “While you were away making porno flicks with the vivacious Arieel Bol, Sherri, Coop and I were learning all the ins and outs of this fantastic piece of machinery,” He patted the console in front of him. “Even a fully-stocked Cartel base shouldn’t be a problem for the Sansa. The only question is how much of the place do you want to leave standing?”

  “I say level the whole goddamn place,” Monty Pitts grumbled.

  “I concur,” said the Juirean, Tidus Fe Nolan.

  Adam grinned, which broke a crusty piece of a scab from his bottom lip. A trickle of blood appeared. He felt it; the others—all battle-hardened veterans—turned squeamish at the sight but said nothing. Sherri handed him a cloth with one hand while pointing at her lip with the other. Adam got the message.

  “Although I feel the same about the Cartel base as you, Master Chief, we can’t do that, not yet. We need information. First, we need to find out if Te’moc is still there, and if not, then where can we find this TeraDon character?” He winced as he tried a wider smile. “After that, then I say go for it. Burn the stinking place to the ground for all I care.”

  “Do you think anyone would notice?” Monty asked. “It would just look like any other neighborhood in Yanish-kas.”

  Adam ignored the gruff Navy master chief and turned to his friend Riyad instead. Riyad was right; Adam hadn’t received the training as the others had on all the wonderful innovations Panur and Lila put into their super starship. He’d barely scratched the surface of the Arya’s capabilities when he left Sasin the last time, thanks to what he later learned were the efforts of J’nae working through Summer. Even then, it was pretty damn impressive: beam weapons and blossom burst defenses. As the Arya’s sister ship, the Sansa had matching systems. And this time, there would be a trained crew at the controls.

  Adam nodded. “I defer to your superior skills, Mr. Tarazi … and the others. You have the con.”

  With laughing eyes, Riyad looked at Sherri and then Copernicus. “It amazes me how Adam always assumes he’s in command—of everything. Where does he get such an ego?”

  “And looking at him now,” Coop began, “the only thing he’s in any condition to command is the Zombie Apocalypse Homecoming Parade.”

  “We said we wouldn’t go there,” Sherri said with a wink. “The guy’s got to be in enough pain as it is. To make fun of his ghoulish good looks is just cruel.”

  “Knock it off,” Adam ordered. He looked at Monty and Tidus. “See what I have to put up with in every book? You would think by now they would know I’m the main character.”

  “I count fourteen ships in port,” Riyad reported from the weapons station. He and Sherri had taken the dual seats, one with control of the starboard batteries and the other the portside. Being the best pilot aboard, Copernicus was at the flight controls. Tidus assumed co-pilot duties while Monty sat at the nav scope. That left Adam lounging at the back of the bridge in an observation seat, with nothing to do.

  This was going to be strange; he not having a vital role in the upcoming battle. But he would lead the ground assault. The team was already dressed in battle gear, with their weapons clipped to the rear bulkhead, ready to grab on their way off the bridge. Besides having a few MK-47s with them, they were going in with deadly M-101 assault rifles with three hundred rounds carried by each team member. Monty still hadn’t completely healed from his encounter with Kracion’s evil henchman so he would stay with the ship. Besides, he didn’t have an ATD like the other Humans. The hull of the Sansa still vibrated from his profanity-laced protests when given the order to stay behind. The bull-of-a-man had sat on the sidelines for far too long. He was ready for some action.

  He calmed down when Copernicus showed him the triple set of heavy flash cannon the ship had mounted on turrets above the bridge, designed specifically for ground assault coverage. It seemed the mutants had planned for every contingency. Monty was now anxious to try out the weapons, and he would use any excuse to do so. Riyad cautioned him to make sure the team was clear before he
opened up. From his mesmerized stroking of the firing control stick, Adam wasn’t sure he heard the warning.

  Adam gave a final word of caution as the Sansa began her run on the Cartel’s land base outside the sprawling metropolis of Yanish-kas. “Remember, we can’t waste the whole place. Otherwise, we’ll spend the next month sifting through the rubble looking for Te’moc’s body. We need some of these assholes alive. And don’t let any of the ships escape. He could be on one of them.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain Obvious,” Copernicus said from the pilot seat. He was relaxed at the controls, his experience making the task of piloting the starship in battle seem almost blasé. “Get ready. I’m banking left; going to catch those Cartel bastards flatfooted. Get ready for the fireworks.”

  “Roger that,” Riyad said from his weapons station. “Readying the diffusion bloom. The thing’s designed to be used in space to knock out enemy missiles, but it should also do a number on the grav generators in the ships on the ground. Not sure what type of blowback we’ll get, so hold on. We’ll be too close to the ground for inertial compensators. It could get a bit bumpy.”

  The hull of the Sansa heated up to fire-engine red as Coop sent the ship diving through the atmosphere. He was coming in much faster than any conventional ship was capable, trusting in the genius of the mutants that their specs were right. In the blink of an eye, he was racing a thousand feet above the reddish-black surface of the planet, heading for the spaceport of the Gradis Cartel’s land base.

  To the right was the cluster of eleven buildings that made up the compound. Between that and the spaceport were three kilometers of open ground, now dotted with dirty, off-white canvas tents housing volunteers for the Cartel’s recruitment program. Very few of the recruits would be armed, and therefore not a factor in the coming ground operation. The team wasn’t required to take and hold any real estate other than the main administration building, and just long enough to beat the information they needed out of some of the higher-ups. That’s when the op would transition from the sorta-planned stage to the play-it-by-ear phase. Both parts of the plan would involve a lot of dead aliens.

  But first, they had to take out the spaceport.

  Riyad triggered the diffusion bloom a heartbeat before the Sansa passed over the parked starships in the large open field. Adam had seen this new type of defensive weapon in action when he, Summer, Tidus and Monty were racing away from Sasin with a small squad of Cartel ships on their tail. Ten guided missiles were closing on them at the time, and the bloom shield spread out around the ship with an enormous electromagnetic pulse and accompanying shockwave. All the missiles were disabled, and the Arya got away unscathed.

  Now the blast radiated to the ground, sending the fourteen spaceships parked there bouncing away, caught in the shockwave. They didn’t appear damaged to any great degree, but sensors aboard the Sansa showed the standby energy signals for all the ships had dropped to zero. The EMP fried their internal circuits, not only for the gravity drives but also the controls to the chemical jets. None of the ships would be lifting from the port any time soon.

  But then the shockwave rebounded off the ground and radiated back toward space, catching the Sansa in its wake before the ship could get far enough away. The EMP was no longer active, but the mass of compressed air sent the ship surging skyward, pressing all those aboard into their seats and gasping for breath.

  The main drive burped, losing power for a moment. The Sansa fell toward the surface, reversing the previous force on the crew and sending them straining against their seat harnesses. A chorus of grunts and groans filled the compartment until the engine came back on and the ship raced away on a level course.

  After catching his breath, Copernicus swung the Sansa around, this time slowing and heading for the complex of oddly-shaped buildings. Pure blue breaking jets flared out from under the hull, scorching the already black soil of a large field outside the tallest of the buildings. The ship didn’t drop to a landing, but skidded instead, churning up mounds of the moist, moldy soil. Coop was out of his seat even before the nose angled down, coming to a rest in one of the huge piles of dirt.

  The rest of the away team were already unbuckled and running for their weapons packs. Monty slid into the weapons station just vacated by Sherri and gripped the controls to the ground assault cannon. One of the screens on the bulkhead already displayed the front of the admin building and the dozens of panicked aliens running for cover. He opened up on them, aiming at those on foot, but leaving the building intact.

  Adam was out the side exit hatch a moment later, cradling an M-101 in his grip. He was followed by Riyad, Coop and Sherri, with Tidus bringing up the rear. M-101’s have excellent range, firepower and accuracy, superior to any of the stray flash bolts coming their way. Already, the team was cutting thin-boned aliens in half with rapid bursts from the semi-automatic carbines.

  Adam recoiled from a powerful flash cannon blast hitting the ground close to him and the others. He glanced back at the grinning face of the Sansa, with its darkened viewport looking like sunglasses and the pile of black soil a thick black mustache.

  “Dammit, Monty!” Adam yelled through his throat mic. “Give us some room.” A moment later the cannon fire shifted forty degrees to the left.

  As they ran across the field toward the building, Adam noticed Tidus falling behind. He wasn’t nearly as fast as the Humans, and he also wasn’t familiar with the M-101, reacting wildly to the slight recoil of the weapon. He was a sitting duck.

  “Sherri, go cover Tidus! Help him to the building. Riyad and I will clear the entry.”

  She dropped back, spraying a group of aliens to the right with a steady stream of hot lead. She dropped a magazine and slapped in another. Tidus joined her, doing his best to target the stray Cartel members with the heavy metal weapon. Although Juireans seldom showed emotion on their long faces, today Tidus was an exception. He was not a happy camper.

  Although most of the Humans had ATDs, in the heat of battle, it wasn’t practical to break concentration to defuse the couple of hundred flash weapons they could detect. A few of the most critical ones, sure, but not all of them. Besides, they had superior weapons and rate of fire. They could handle most of what the Cartel soldiers were sending their way.

  Even so, both Adam and Riyad caught level-two bolts to their battle vests, while Coop made the sprint to the headquarters building impact free. The trio now raked the single-door entry with heavy slugs that tore easily through the polyurethane foam construction, taking out a dozen more Gradis hiding on the other side of the wall, The door was barely a door when Adam dropped a shoulder and barreled into the interior.

  There were dead or dying aliens littering the floor everywhere, requiring the Humans to step over and around them. Sherri and Tidus showed up a moment later.

  “The bosses wear nicer clothes,” Adam yelled to his people. “Find me someone to beat on.”

  “What’s nicer?” Copernicus asked, looking around.

  The area around was rapidly clearing. The remaining aliens on the ground floor were debating whether there was a future in working for the Cartel any longer. Most were turning in their resignations and running for safety, failing to return fire against the savage invaders.

  Adam sprinted up one of the open stairways. On the upper floors, there was even less resistance. These were the bosses, and they seldom pulled their weapons anymore. However, a few did, and they paid the price.

  With his improved eyesight, Adam spotted something familiar down the hallway as it ducked into a room on the right. He followed, again shattering the door almost before it had a chance to close fully. Someone was knocked back, landing on the floor in front of a utilitarian desk. It was a Rigorian.

  During the brief time he’d been a prisoner of the Cartel, he hadn’t seen very many of the huge, lizard-like creatures. The only one he knew was named Aligart. Adam’s problem: all Rigorians look alike. Adam wasn’t sure if this was Aligart or not.

  “Adam Cain! P
lease do not shoot,” said the writhing beast on the floor. Adam stood over him, the short barrel of his M-101 only inches from the foot-long snout. “It is I, Aligart.”

  Riyad and Titus came into the room, while Sherri and Coop took up sentry positions outside. Adam could hear an occasional blast of M-101 fire as they kept the curious aliens at bay.

  “I’m looking for Te’moc!” Adam growled. He was caught up in the energy of the battle, sweat covering his brow, his eyes intense balls of blue glaring down at the alien. Normally, he felt trepidation around the huge lizards—not this time.

  “Pardon me, but you look different, Adam Cain. Are you molting?”

  The Rigorian was referring to his peeling flesh and open sores.

  “No, I’m fine. Where’s Te’moc?”

  “You do not look fine. You look to be in pain.”

  “Forget about me! Just tell me where Te’moc is!”

  “Te’moc? The creature in the metal skeleton?”

  “That’s the one … I think.” Adam had never actually seen Te’moc. He’d only heard about him. “TeraDon’s client,” he said for clarification.

  “That would be him. He is not here.”

  Adam’s hopes crashed. Shit! “Where is he?”

  “I do not know.”

  “What about TeraDon Strife?”

  “You mean Fief?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Whatever his name is. Dammit, where is he?”

  “You may call me what you wish, but I would tell you if I knew where he is. All I know is that TeraDon Fief and the other creature followed you off the planet. Their ship never returned.”

  The Rigorian was having trouble concentrating. His yellow eyes shifted their attention from Adam’s torn up face to Riyad and Tidus, each of them with their M-101s also aimed at the big lizard. No one in the galaxy liked Rigorians, that was common knowledge. Aligart saw the hate in their eyes.