Hell's Reach (Galactic Liberation Series Book 6)

by B. V. Larson

  The fight became grim. Both were sweating and bleeding. Even Gurung was breathing in heaving gasps now. They circled and glowered at one another.

  Suddenly, Dromian staggered and seemed close to passing out. Gurung suspected it was blood loss and exertion simply taking their toll.

  Gurung sprang upon him, knocking the bigger man off his feet. Dromian went down on his back. Getting his hands under the monster’s armpits, Gurung heaved him, dragging him toward the edge of the circle.

  Just as he shoved Dromian out of the arena to the hooting calls of excitement from the crowd, an explosion of pain gripped his guts.

  Dromian had thrust his knife deeply into Gurung’s abdomen as a final act of defiance.

  “Foul!” called out Melikian. “Dromian loses—dishonorably!”

  “I don’t care,” Dromian wheezed, unable to do more than gasp out the words as he lay dying on his back. Blood was everywhere, flowing from a dozen cuts. “The human has paid for his insolence with his life.”

  Gurung looked down. The knife was lodged in his belly. That upward angle—could it have reached his heart? His aorta? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t feeling too good.

  Spinning around and falling, he looked up to see Cam crouching over him, calling for help. She had blood on her hands—his blood—and a wild look in her eyes.

  Chapter 22

  Cassiel in Hell’s Reach.

  The barracuda-creature accelerated at high speed directly toward Cassiel, ignoring the prey-creatures nearby. “Tail gunner!” Chiara barked, wrenching the ship around and running the fusion engine up to full. Adrenaline shot through her, as familiar as the many times she’d threaded her ship through danger.

  “It’s gonna catch us,” Loco said, mashing the controls for the chaff-flare dispenser and the blinding laser.

  The tail gun hammered, and Loco’s board showed the point defense laser in the top turret already on auto, but out of firing arc. Raj called, “I can’t get a lock for the engine flare, boss, and besides, the shields are filling up with plasma.”

  It was true; the bubble of shields around the little ship was rapidly turning opaque as some of the engine exhaust was retained within. “That’s the problem with add-on modules,” Chiara snarled. “Always something not quite right. Loco, drop the shields, but be ready to snap them on again at your discretion.”

  “Roger.” He shut them off and Chiara pumped the throttles, providing gaps in the engine exhaust to shoot through. The line of twenty-millimeter shells stabilized on the barracuda’s nose and the creature exploded.

  “Nice shot, Raj,” Loco said.

  “Thanks... but more are coming.”

  “God preserve us,” Chiara said, icy cool piloting instinct and hot panic competing within her veins. Apparently alerted by the death of their comrade, the barracudas all turned toward its killer—Cassiel. She shoved the throttles to their stops and headed back the way they’d come, between the proto-stars, the only thing she could think to do. “When they reach us, we’re dead.”

  “Twenty seconds,” Loco said. “The point defense laser got one... two.”

  “Out of how many?”

  Loco checked his board. “Sixty-eight. Yeah, we’re dead. Chiara—”

  “Mind your board! Use those countermeasures!”

  Loco was already doing so, his motions were so practiced he barely needed to pay attention. “Barracudas don’t care about the chaff and flares, and the blinding laser doesn’t have much effect. I doubt they have eyes to blind. Chiara, if we’re—”

  “Oh, great. Stupid rocks in the way! God, can’t we catch a fucking break?” On the screen ahead the Lithoids loomed, directly in Cassiel’s path—one in particular was dead-ahead. Chiara vainly tried to aim for a gap between its solid components and prayed aloud, “Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name... ”

  “Five seconds to impact, and there’s still about fifty following us,” Raj reported calmly, his gun hammering.

  “Shield on full,” Loco said as he ran the bar on the control to the top. The ship thrummed with the power expenditure and the sensors lost all contact with the rest of the universe as the full-power shield blocked everything, even the entire EM spectrum. Briefly they were enclosed in a bubble of reflective silver like a Christmas ornament.

  Cassiel shuddered with heavy impacts, transmitted from the barrier of the shield through the mounts of the module to the ship’s bones. “How long will it hold?” she asked.

  “Only a few seconds at max level. Chiara, I need to tell you—”

  The ship jerked and Chiara’s head slammed forward, then back, wrenching her neck. Belatedly she pulled on the head-harness that would have saved her from the pain, its smart fabric wrapping her face. The integrated goggles covered her eyes. She noticed Loco doing the same in imitation—just in time. Another blow caused the entire safety system to tighten, immobilizing everything except for the hands that gripped the controls.

  Alarms shrieked with two more terrible impacts, and she heard every spacer’s nightmare, the deadly hiss of an atmo leak. Smoke sprang up from an electrical short and leaped like a demon straight for the hole hidden deep behind the consoles.

  “Plugger gel,” she gasped, and Loco deactivated his harness to grab a bottle of the quick-setting goop. He stuck it deep behind the control beard, near where the smoke was still arrowing for the hole, and triggered it. Even unseen, the foamy stuff should find the hole and plug it. It was always a bitch to clean up, but better than dying.

  She loosened her own harness and sprayed the incipient fire with an extinguisher. The suppression gas followed the smoke for a moment, and then stopped. “How bad are we hit?”

  Loco turned the damage-control screen toward her, showing a Christmas tree of colors. “Bad, but could be worse. Why are we still alive?”

  Chiara pointed to the main forward screen. The shield had already snapped off as it ran out of power, and the gap she’d headed for abruptly widened, forming a clear tunnel as if in answer to her prayer. “Thank you, Lord,” she breathed. Unbelievably, they were sailing through clear space.

  “They’re gone. Look!” Loco threw up a reverse view. It showed the Lithoids forming a wall behind Cassiel—and scores of dead barracudas.

  “What happened?”

  Loco pointed as a lightning bolt reached out and fried the last living barracuda in sight. “Wow. I knew it! They’re friendly!”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. They could just be defending themselves, not us.” Chiara could feel the doubt in her own voice, though. At the moment she’d begun praying, the Lithoid had formed a tunnel through the middle of itself to let the ship pass. Divine intervention, or natural behavior? Or something in between—the benevolent intelligence of a bunch of rocks?

  “You might be right, though,” she admitted grudgingly.

  “Glad if I was. Otherwise... ”

  “Yeah.” She navigated through a gentle turn to resume their original course. The rocks parted to let them through, further reinforcing the theory of friendliness.

  “They’re still trying to talk to us,” Loco said, tapping a screen full of text.

  Chiara heard his implied question. “Oh, hell. Go ahead and talk to them.” She flipped the intercom. “Chief Sylvester, you guys all right back there?”

  His report was clipped. “Could be worse, ma’am. Damage control and repairs initiated. Report to follow. Sylvester out.”

  She sighed, checking her status board. “No shield. We’ve got a leak in fuel tank two, the comms array is beat to crap and the heat exchanger’s bent almost in half. Structural integrity monitor shows several weak spots in the hull. If the rocks even rub up against us like friendly cats they’ll destroy us. Cassiel’s not a warship, Loco. That was far too close.”

  “Yeah.”

  A knock came on the door, and then Brock stuck his muzzle in. “Cap’n, Raj says from his view out the back, we’re okay for now. The rocks seem to be protecting us. They chased away
that big thing—zapped the hell out of it with lightning bolts. The chief and his people are working on repairs and I’d be in the way, otherwise I’d help. You got anything needs doing?”

  “I—no, thanks, Brock. Keep watch, stand by... ” Her neck hurt like hell and her mind felt fuzzy. Wasn’t the Breaker Bug supposed to fix these things? Even as she thought about it, her head began to clear. Maybe she was hurt worse than she’d thought, but the biotech would make it all better.

  “And Cap’n... sorry about Lorenzo. He was a good kid.”

  “What? What did you say?”

  Brock’s furry face froze and his whiskers stood straight out. “Oh, shit. Captain, I’m so sorry... I thought the chief would’ve said something already. Lorenzo... ”

  Chiara leaped out of the seat and pushed her way past Brock, down the short passage and into the cargo hold. The air stank of chemicals and short-circuits, burning plastic and ozone and fear. In the hold, suited figures with their helmets open and their gloves off worked on systems, passing tools and barking technical orders. One man remained sealed in his suit, lying atop a stack of containers and strapped in place.

  When she rushed to him, she could see a neat hole in his faceplate where something small and fast had penetrated. The back of the helmet was unmarred, but the faceplate’s inner surface was smeared with red gore.

  Cousin Lorenzo.

  Touching her forehead to the faceplate, she began to keen in anguish.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and shook it off roughly, turning to scream at Loco—and saw Brock instead. She could explode at a friend, at her lover, but not at an innocent subordinate. Instead, she allowed herself to be drawn into a furry hug. “I’m so sorry, Captain Jilani. It’s never easy to lose family, but we’re with you.”

  “Are you?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He pulled back to touch his black pug nose to hers. “We don’t care about Lutan’s orders—not anymore.”

  “He must have leverage on you.”

  “He does. Our families. We’ll deal with that when the time comes, but here and now, Raj and I are with you, boss lady. And your family.”

  “My family?”

  “Loco and Belinda. And the Breakers. We’ve seen how you are with them, and we’re sick of being treated like disposable employees. If you’re okay with it, we’d like to be considered part of your family too. To help make up for Lorenzo.”

  “I—Brock, I don’t know what to say.” She felt tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t handle all this right now.”

  “Yes you can. I’ve only known you for a little while, but you’re strong. We’re stronger together.” He squeezed her shoulders and let her go.

  She took one more look at Lorenzo, and then made her way back to the cockpit. Taking her seat again, she said, “Lorenzo’s dead.”

  “I figured from what Brock said. Gods, I’m sorry, Chi.”

  “Loco, does it really make sense to risk all of us to try to rescue six?”

  “You’re thinking of abandoning the mission?”

  She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off an incipient headache. “I’m thinking of saving our lives and letting Straker and the first-string team do it. Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re better equipped than we are. We’re crowded into a fragile tin can, one twitch away from imminent death. One of us has already died. What’s the point of rescuing people if we don’t actually get them to safety?”

  Loco took her hand. She wanted to pull away—why?—but didn’t, and after a moment his warmth seemed to sink into her veins. “It’s natural to be shocked by losing a comrade—a family member—to be scared.”

  “I’m not scared. I’m... reassessing.”

  Actually, he’s right, she thought. I’m terrified. Why? I was never this frightened when I was on my own.

  Because someone’s dead? Or because on my own, there was nothing to lose. Because I’m nothing. Nothing but a force for anger, for revenge, for raining hellfire and destruction onto my chosen enemies until one day Mother Mary takes me home to see my ancestors. But Lorenzo got there first and it’s my fault. What am I going to tell his mother? It’ll destroy her.

  So what’s changed? Having people under my command? I’ve had a crew before, mercs like Brock and Raj, now and again a few others with grudges against the crimorgs, but never...

  Never people I cared for. Especially Loco. Loco is a guy I can’t seem to get out of my heart and can’t seem to drive away, who’d cheerfully die for me if I let him. What kind of nut case does that, especially for a worthless addicted bitch like me?

  She found her free hand inside her tunic reaching for the tube of Erb, and barely had the presence of mind to turn the motion into scratching an imaginary itch. She felt like she was coming apart, and no Breaker Bug would hold her together.

  And now Loco was watching her with that goofy doe-eyed look he got when he was touching her. It was just hormones, just lust. She had a plain face, but a great body, and she turned him on and he liked a challenge so the bitch part was a plus in this case, but what they had wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Nobody could love her. Her father had told her so many times as a child, after he’d drained his bottle of cheap grappa and her mother had retreated to her bed, stoned on Erb like half of Paradiso.

  For God’s sake, Chi, pull yourself together. You’re the captain.

  “I’m not scared,” she said more strongly, shaking off her doubts once again, putting on the mask she wore to keep the world at bay. “But we got lucky that time, and there’s no guarantee we’ll get lucky again. We could all die.”

  “One thing I learned a long time ago,” Loco said, still holding tight to her hand. “There’s no guarantees in life. We take what we’re given and make the best of it. Doesn’t your God say to do that? And if you really believe in Paradise, then dying is no big deal.”

  “For me, maybe. Not for you and the rest. Not for Lorenzo. He didn’t sign up to get killed.”

  “We’re all volunteers here, Chi—the Breakers, the badgers, even Belinda. They could’ve bailed out on Mechrono-7, but they didn’t. The badgers—don’t tell me it’s just good business on their part. Mercs don’t go on suicide missions. Not unless they’re not mercs anymore.”

  “Crimorgs can inspire loyalty—and fear. Brock confirmed Lutan has leverage, but he said he and Raj are with me. With us. But the Breakers are doing it because you say so, Loco. If you say different, they’ll be relieved not to face death here in this Godforsaken wilderness.”

  “But it’s not Godforsaken, is it, Chi? If there is a God like yours, or even any god—the Unknowable Creator, Gurung’s Buddha, the One Above All, Ullach, anyone—they sure stepped in today. We were stone-cold dead, Chi, and something saved us.”

  “Not all of us.”

  “Maybe that’s just the price to be paid. Should we be angry we lost one, or grateful fifteen survived?”

  “I don’t know, Loco. I just don’t know.”

  “Chiara, I tell you, I can feel it. Even if it’s just the collective consciousness of the universe guiding a network of intelligent rocks, it’s looking out for us. Maybe it always was. Derek and I came through so many impossible situations... I guess I always believed in something. Not in big fancy buildings or in symbols and costumes and funny hats, but in… in friends, in comrades, in family. In people we love. If there’s really a God, he works through people—humans, Ruxins, badgers—or through living rocks.” Loco pointed toward the screen. “You say you’re a believer and you think I’m not—but I am. I believe in what I see, and in we have—and in the Breakers, and in you. Come on, Chi, believe your eyes and your heart! You know it’s true.” He emphasized this by squeezing her hand in a grip so tight it hurt.

  Chiara felt her walls cracking and her eyes leaking again.

  No, no, not here, not now.

  She reached out to lock the cockpit door, terrified someone would pop their head in and see her coming apart. Stupid, yeah, since they’d already seen he
r in the back with Lorenzo, but that was mourning a dead man. This would be... bad for morale, she thought. Not that she was thinking all that clearly right now.

  “Loco, I—we can’t do this anymore. Not now.”

  “Do what?”

  “This thing we’re doing. Talking about us and family and relationships instead of the mission. We’re in the middle of hell, surrounded by things that want to kill us.”

  “And protected by things that took a liking to us for no reason at all. Doesn’t your holy book say you’ll be protected by guardian angels when you need them?”

  “For He will put thee in the charge of His angels, to guard you on all your paths.”

  “That’s pretty damned clear. We’re here for good reasons—for righteous reasons, Chi. To rescue innocent people, and to punish the bad guys who took them so they can’t fuck people over again. If there really is a God who rewards righteousness, we’re due for some rewards. If not, well, hell. I’m still gonna do the right thing if I can. I’d like to live life—with you, Chi—but if I die in the process, I can live with that.” He chuckled—at his own stupid joke, but that was Loco.

  Chiara sighed and pulled her hand away. Hanging her head, she let her tresses cover her face and her weary tears. She was tired of fighting—fighting the universe, fighting with Loco, fighting herself and her own demons. She wanted to go home and curl up and dose herself with Erb and sleep for a year and let someone else take over everything, but she couldn’t.

  Someday, maybe, but not today.

  Once more, she went to the well of resolve deep within her own soul. She felt it down there at the bottom, reduced to thin dregs, but not completely dry.

  “Okay.” Chiara rubbed the curtain of hair against her eyes to absorb the tears, and then tilted her head back against the headrest. Blowing a breath out to clear her face, she forced a smile. “Okay. You sold me, Loco. The rocks are angels and God wants us to go on with the mission. So let’s do it. Win or lose, live or die, let’s fucking do it. Let’s barrel down this path, rescue our people and kill anything that gets in our way, come hell or high water.”