Hell's Reach (Galactic Liberation Series Book 6)

by B. V. Larson

  The helmsman, Tomlinson, said, “Ma’am, do we have a destination?”

  “I’ll let you know, Tommy.”

  The man grinned behind his turned head. If he’d been a dog, his tail would be wagging, Straker thought.

  “Sir, what’s our course of action?” Salishan asked.

  “How long can we avoid a decisive battle?”

  Salishan worked the holotank controls, setting up several projected courses. “Twelve hours at least... maybe twenty to thirty. If they’re persistent and want to fight us, we’re too slow to run forever, even if we had the fuel. In a normal system I’d head for flatspace and jump out, but there is no flatspace here. We either have to fight—and the sim says we’re facing at least five-to-one odds—or run through a wormhole. And we have no idea where any of them go.

  Straker chewed his lip, and then pointed at the enemy wormhole. Ships were still emerging from it every minute or two. “Except that one.”

  “Since you’re not suicidal, sir... what good does that info do us?”

  “I’m not sure yet. All I know is, sometimes the way out is through—and the Predators must know a route out of Hell’s Reach. Our other option is to pick a random wormhole, and I hate going into a situation blind.”

  “You know, sir... ” Salishan drummed her fingers on the rail. “The butterfly collectors brought us here. Maybe they’ll intervene—defend us.”

  “They didn’t intervene just now. It’s only a hunch, but I feel like they’re watching with interest to see what happens. Like naturalists would watch a wolf pack trying to take down a buffalo. We can’t let them figure into our battle calculations. For now, run away and buy us time. Once I talk to Loco and Zaxby, I’ll have a better idea.”

  Straker headed for the flight deck. By the time he got there, the big doors were closing and the two grabships set Cassiel gently down. Once the sloop was firmly grappled and atmosphere restored, he strode across the deck expecting to meet Loco at the bottom of the ramp.

  Instead, he saw a gaggle of Breakers, led by a noncom—a chief, judging by his insignia, though the chevrons on his uniform looked homemade. Field promotion? Name of Sylvester, he remembered from the list of kidnapped Breakers. “Good to see you again, Chief Sylvester. Gentlemen.” Straker shook hands down the line. Big smiles on smudged, weary faces showed their relief. “You’re home again. Get cleaned up, rest, and see Personnel for assignments.”

  “Sir, we don’t need rest.” Sylvester said. “Not quite yet.” He gestured at the tail end of the troupe, where six men carried an oblong case.

  It took Straker a moment to understand. “Who is it?”

  “Lorenzo Alfonsi. Local kid. Just joined up. One of Jilani’s cousins, I hear.”

  “Damned shame.”

  “We’ll handle it, sir.”

  “Let me know the time and place of the service. I’ll be there if I can. Carry on.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Sylvester said, and the men trudged off.

  Straker looked up the ramp to see a furred biped watching him, with clear black eyes behind a pointed muzzle and visibly sharp teeth. It had an impressive customized carbine slung, and when it saw Straker return the gaze, it flipped a sharp salute and descended, extending a hand. Another of his kind followed, like a twin.

  “Brock, sir, in the service of Captain Jilani. You’ve never seen a Mellivor before, have you?”

  Straker returned the salute and shook the sharp-clawed hand, then that of the other. “Nope. Welcome aboard. I’m Straker.”

  “My partner Raj and I’ve heard all about you from the Breakers, General. It’s an honor.”

  “They might be a little biased, but thanks,” he said glancing at the battered ship. “Thanks for helping get our people home.”

  “We did our part.”

  Brock stepped aside as Loco leaped off the edge of the ramp to land lightly and bear-hug Straker. They pounded on each other’s back in delight. “God, it’s good to see you, Derek. Have I got some stories for you.”

  “Likewise,” Straker said, holding his best friend at arm’s length. “Great to see you in one piece. Is Jilani... ”

  Loco’s face clouded and he lowered his voice, glancing up the ramp. “She’s all right, more or less, but she’s had a rough time this trip.”

  “That dead kid... ”

  “Part of it. She’s not as tough as she makes out. Leave her alone for a while, okay? She’ll bunk in her own cabin and come down when she’s ready.”

  “Sure, Loco.”

  “I’ll tell you more later. Oh, and this is Belinda,” Loco said as a short, buxom blonde barely out of her teens bounced cheerfully down the ramp. The rumpled coverall she wore couldn’t hide her evident appeal. Straker could feel it radiating from five meters away, reminding him of a Tachina clone, but without the lascivious hunger.

  Belinda smiled and bowed with a double flourish of her hands. “Lovely to meet you, Manager—ah, General sir.”

  Straker nodded a slight return bow. “Same here, Belinda.”

  Loco said, “Brock, you guys and Belinda stick close to the ship for now. Ask one of the flight deck noncoms for anything you need, and comlink me if you have any problems.”

  “Sure, sir.” Brock took Belinda’s arm in a kind but firm grip. He led her back up the ramp into the ship. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s stay out of the officers’ way.”

  “I guess we’ll have something else to talk about,” Straker said with raised eyebrows as he watched the two retreat. “And we do need to talk, right now. Elsewhere. We have a whole fleet on our tail and limited time to figure out a course of action.”

  As he and Loco strode across the flight deck, Straker said, “Give me a rundown. Condensed version.”

  “After we left Utopia, Captain Jilani contacted elements of a crimorg at the Rainbow Contractor market. That’s where we picked up Belinda, the badgers, and got a line on where the men were sold. It was a rhodium mine in the Mechrono system. We rescued them, killed some spiders, fought off a spider ship—twice—and Jilani got information that our women had been taken to a secret Predator base in Hell’s Reach, along with a route to get there. We followed the route, made it through some scrapes, and here we are.”

  “Just like that.”

  “You asked for the condensed version. You want the stories, you have to buy the beer.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  When they reached the bridge, Captain Salishan shook Loco’s hand and briefed the two men by the holotank. “I put us on a broad evasion course, counter-orbital to the planetary bodies. This’ll give us as many options as possible, and eventually we’ll come back around to the wormhole leading to the Predator base—just in case you decide that’s where we’re going.” She looked skeptical of this possibility.

  “How many enemy ships?”

  “Eighty-three so far. More keep coming through, though a few have returned. About half are following us, and they’ll eventually catch us. The other half are spreading out and cutting across to intercept us. We’re continuously altering our course, which will buy us time, but if they want to, they’ll eventually bring us to battle. Unless we escape through a wormhole.”

  Loco’s eyes roamed the holotank. “Have you found a bunch of mobile, self-directed rocks with EM emissions?”

  Salishan turned. “Sensors.”

  The Sensors officer, who like all the bridge crew had been listening closely to their leaders, quickly highlighted an icon, off to the side of the Predator wormhole. “There’s a big group of them here, ma’am. Six enemy ships nearby, but not approaching.”

  “Zoom in,” Loco said. The view zoomed in to show the now familiar Lithoids. “These are allies of ours. We established communication with them. They defended us and destroyed eight Predator ships.”

  “Allies... ” Straker mused. “We sure need some here. You said they already fought the Predators?”

  “The Lithoids defended us, the Predators attacked them, and they counterattacked. They als
o lost a... a guy, an individual, as far as we could tell. But the ones with us then were just kids. These are the grownups,” he said, pointing at the clusters. I have no idea whether they’d be willing to fight alongside us. It’s not their battle.”

  “Let’s ask them, shall we?”

  Loco searched Straker’s face and lowered his voice. “I know you want to get our women back, especially Carla, but is it fair to ask others to die in our fight?”

  “Nothing about war is fair. It’s necessary. We’re not talking about just six Breakers. There must be a whole bunch of captives there—and the Predators are obviously planning to attack other systems, using whatever they’ve got going here at their secret base. This is bigger than us or the Lithoids. This is about opposing evil and saving millions, maybe billions. You said they were grownups. We won’t con them. We’ll tell them the truth and let them decide.”

  Loco turned back to the holotank and crossed his arms. “Okay. Doesn’t make me feel good.”

  “This is bigger than feeling good.”

  “Everything with you always is, Derek.”

  Straker suppressed irritation. Loco had obviously been through a lot lately. New worry lines were etched upon his tired face. Something was different about him. Presumably it had to do with Jilani, but now wasn’t the time to hash it out. “Mercy, bring us around to eventually approach the Lithoids. Loco, how do we talk to them?”

  “Spacer Richards was doing a good job, using text and a comms terminal.”

  Straker nodded. “Comms, page Richards. Tell him to report to the bridge once he’s cleaned up and fed.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Chapter 29

  Hell’s Reach, SBS Trollheim.

  Spacer Richards arrived on the bridge of the Trollheim in a clean uniform, shoving the last bite of something in his mouth with one hand while clutching a folding terminal with the other. He squeezed between the comms officers and plugged it in, and then turned toward Straker with an open smile. “Ready, sir.”

  “Give them a short rundown on the Breakers. Who we are, the situation.”

  Richards typed a few paragraphs. “They understand, sir.”

  “Can you put that comlink through to audio? Convert my speech directly, and vice versa?”

  The comms officer plied his board. “Done, sir. You’re on. Remember, the SAI will interpret your meanings using known language constructions, unless you tell it to translate literally.”

  “Understood. Start the comlink.” Straker spoke formally. “This is Derek Straker, commanding the Breakers. To whom have I the honor of speaking?”

  The SAI’s synthesized spoke. “We are Lithoids. We are Elder Wise, first of our grouping.”

  “Thank you for helping Cassiel and those aboard.”

  “That was our offspring. They are young and foolish, but we have great affection for them. Please convey our thanks for their return.”

  “I extend my condolences for the one you lost in battle.”

  “They were not lost entirely. They were incorporated.”

  Straker glanced at Richards, who nodded and spoke up. “I think…” he said, “if an individual loses too many parts, they’ll incorporate the rest into others, preserving them from complete death.”

  “Good to hear. Elder Wise, we have a problem. Many innocent people, including some of mine, have been stolen by our enemies, those we call Predators. It’s their ships which pursue us now, and wish to kill or capture us. Their groupings have already attacked and killed or stolen many innocent beings. They will attack, kill and capture again. Elder Wise, how do you and your people view the Predator activities?”

  “They are reprehensible. However, we are largely immune to predations, and we can defend ourselves. Why should we care what organics do?”

  A voice broke in. “Zaxby to Straker. I have a suggestion.”

  “Go ahead, since you’re listening anyway... ”

  “You should be glad I do. I suggest a newly fissioned Roentgen sibling fuse with the Lithoids permanently, in the same way he fused with the vortex. I’ve analyzed the azoic life processes which animate the rocks, and the two species should be uniquely compatible. That will do away with all this lengthy diplomatic jibber-jabber and persuade Elder Wise and his people to be sympathetic.”

  “Or not.”

  “Or perhaps not. Yet, we are under time pressure. Once we know the Lithoids’ answer, we will be able to decide what to do with far greater clarity.”

  Straker paced and considered. “I agree. Elder Wise, we suggest one of our people exchange knowledge and particles directly with you or one of yours. It should not be harmful to you, but if it is, I understand you can isolate and excise one of your parts, one of your rocks, to preserve yourself?”

  “Of course. We are composed of hundreds of rocks. Losing one is of little note. We are willing to perform this fusing of which you speak.”

  “Zaxby, I presume Roentgen agreed to this?”

  “He’s eager to do so. He intends to make a name for himself among his people by spreading his offspring and establishing first contact with new species.”

  “God save me from glory-hounds,” Straker muttered.

  “I heard that, Derek Straker. Consider: glory is a magnificent motivator. Look what you and I have accomplished in the pursuit of glory.”

  “Zaxby, I never wanted glory.”

  “Lie to me, but not to yourself, Liberator. Glory is the icing on your cake.”

  Straker reminded himself once again not to argue publicly with Zaxby. “Get back here and help Roentgen fission again, ASAP. Then deliver him—one of him—to Elder Wise.”

  “On my way. Zaxby out.”

  Three hours later, the Redwolf departed for the Lithoids. An hour after that, Zaxby reported another Roentgen stepping onto one of the hundreds of rocks composing Elder Wise. No doubt Zaxby and Roentgen had spent the time talking to the Lithoids. Straker hoped the Ruxin hadn’t poisoned relations forever with his blather. At least Roentgen was a solid, sensible guy, an excellent ambassador.

  “Comlink from Elder Wiser,” the comms officer suddenly reported.

  Straker stopped his pacing. “Wise-er? Not Wise?”

  “That’s what he said, sir. I double-checked.”

  “Take it.”

  The bridge audio crackled to life. “This is Elder Wiser. After millions of years of life, we have taken a new name. We celebrate.”

  “We... celebrate along with you, Elder Wiser. I take it the fusing was successful?”

  “Our minds reel with the knowledge Roentgen imparted to us. We are a new creature now. We are invigorated with data and emotion! Our people are forever changed! We were Wise before, but are Wiser now.”

  Was Wiser being witty, or was the wordplay a coincidence? “Glad to hear it. Forgive my bluntness, Elder Wiser, but what about the Predators?”

  “We have never been to war before, Liberator Straker. The very concept grieves us. Yet, self-defense is necessary, and evil must be opposed, sometimes with violence. We will help you destroy these Predators and retrieve your stolen persons.”

  “And free all the innocents.” Straker wanted to make sure Wiser understood.

  “Of course. Remember, everything Roentgen knew, we know now.”

  “Knew?”

  “Knew, knows, will know. Roentgen are a part of us, and they are no longer an individualized being. Yet they live on with us.”

  Straker sighed. It was hard to get used to the idea that his friend kept splitting and losing parts of himself—and yet continued, the same as before. Human minds weren’t made to easily comprehend the weirdness. “Thank you. We’ll do all we can, but your people will do the heavy lifting—the bulk of the fighting, I mean. If you can destroy their ships in space, we’ll deal with the ground battle and concentrate on rescuing personnel.”

  “We understand. Shall we begin?”

  “Stand by please, Elder Wiser.”

  Salishan sidled up beside Straker. “It would real
ly help if our ships could blockade the wormhole before our new allies made a move. Keep the Predators from sending word back.”

  “Then we could surprise the ones on the other side. Good thinking, Mercy.” He examined the holotank, with its complex web of intersecting courses, past and projected. “Can we sneak between them and seize the wormhole?”

  “Yes, if we’re willing to use a lot of fuel.”

  “What’s a lot?”

  “We’ll be down to about twenty percent. Then we’ll use more in any battle. The more we use, the slower any return trip will be—assuming we don’t need to fight.”

  “If we win, can we refuel?”

  “We can get some dirty hydrogen from one of these gas giants and limp home, but we don’t have intrinsic refining capability to separate out the deuterium-tritium isotopes that make the best fuel. It won’t be pretty.”

  “Can we salvage fuel and supplies?”

  Salishan frowned. “Some. Depends on the state of defeated enemy ships.”

  “We have to take the chance. We only get one shot at this, and it’s now. I’m not leaving our people when we’re so close.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then go ahead and seize the wormhole.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Helm, set course for the enemy wormhole, min-time profile, standard acceleration. Sir, you might want to brief our allies.”

  “Right. Elder Wiser, are you still listening?”

  “We listen with great interest. Your voices bring us joy, with Roentgen’s knowledge of the speakers enlightening us in ways we never thought possible.”

  Straker hoped Wiser’s evident giddiness wouldn’t inhibit the Lithoids’ combat power. “Glad you’re happy. Please don’t make any obvious movements toward the enemy or the wormhole. The element of surprise is critical. Do you understand?”

  “We understand,” the alien said. “Once you’ve interdicted the wormhole to eliminate enemy communications through it, we will destroy the Predator ships here in this system. Then, we will regroup and attack those on the other side, destroying their ships while you organics seize their base and rescue the innocents.”