“General Longmire. This is Brandt. What’s happening? Where are the Tullans? Where’s the rest of the EDF?”
Logan heard Longmire’s voice in his comms device, but it was choppy. Something was interfering with the transmission.
“Ghorl…Tull…s…out. Th…quake…ors. Ships coming through ga…Tha…horsesh... Hold…coming!”
Moments later the great central doors of D’norah Kûhn opened and out charged thousands of roaring soldiers of the EDF’s Africa and Euro Corps. They slammed into the Sahiradin center, forcing the enemy to deploy warriors to meet the challenge. War Dog Brigade renewed its surge toward the enemy shield generator. If they could destroy it, guns placed on the canyon walls could pour fire down on the invaders’ vanguard and shred them.
Hoorah!
The phalanx advanced a meter, even as Agurru shook beneath their feet.
Hoorah!
They pushed forward another meter. Now Agrom and his Grenn were once again in the fight, smashing through the Sahiradin line.
Hoorah!
They were so close now - less than ten meters away. They had to push forward!
Hoorah!
Half a meter forward.
Hoorah!
Nothing. Logan glanced toward the enemy tunnel under the Lycian shield dome. A new wave of Sahiradin and auxiliaries was pouring through. They fell in behind the Sahiradin line, bolstering it. Hundreds of them swarmed around the mighty Grenn, felling them with perfectly-coordinated attacks.
Logan’s heart sank as he saw soldier after soldier fall. Their shield wall was down to just one-deep in many places. Gaps were opening that could not be closed. He and his remaining War Dogs would advance no farther. They had lost their momentum and now had to fend off attacks on their flanks. Soon they would be overrun. Logan looked once more toward the gates of D’norah Kûhn but no Tullans were coming out, nor did he see any Rahani sharpshooters. He watched as both the Africa Corps and Euro Corps began to yield ground. There would be no pincer attack, no massive thrust against the enemy’s center, no encirclement and destruction of the Sahiradin vanguard.
Enraged by Ghorla’s betrayal but unwilling to sacrifice any more of his soldiers for an unachievable goal, Logan ordered a fighting retreat back into the fortress. Beth translated Logan’s call for retreat to Agrom, who immediately relayed the same command to his few remaining Grenn. The giants moved with remarkable speed and agility and quickly withdrew from the field. Logan and Beth joined the last line of War Dog soldiers falling back toward the doors from which they’d launched their surprise attack.
But the Sahiradin weren’t going to let the Humani flee unscathed. They lunged after the warriors from Earth, their pale blue eyes opened wide with battle fury, mouths agape, scale-covered faces sprayed with the blood of fallen enemies. Soldiers were cut down from behind or lost their footing as they stumbled backwards, never to rise again.
“Logan!” shouted Beth as she fended off a Sahiradin warrior’s attack. “Look out!”
A group of warriors surged toward Logan from his left. The warriors surrounded him, cutting him off from his line of retreat.
“Logan!”
He heard Beth call again, but she was farther away now. She was being pressed back toward the tunnels of D’norah Kûhn.
Now he was entirely surrounded by snarling Sahiradin. Though he killed five or more, a warrior slipped behind him and drove a needled into his neck, injecting him with something. Logan turned and drove a dagger into the warrior’s flank, but the deed could not be undone. The contents of the injection quickly sapped Logan of his strength. His vision blurred. His arms felt like lead. His ears rang with the echoes of shouting Sahiradin warriors. With a final sword thrust, he collapsed to the ground. He tasted the dust of Agurru in his mouth, felt it in his lungs. He tried to rise to his feet but a blow to the back of his head sent him to the ground once more. He felt himself being lifted up by a pair of warriors. They quickly dragged him from the field, away from D’norah Kûhn, away from Beth.
Chapter 58
One more such victory and we are undone.
- King Pyrrhus of Epirus.
Logan’s impressions were a mad jumble of sights and sounds, but a few things stood out with striking clarity. The first was the image of triangular gunships, reminiscent of Lycian design but unlike any he had ever seen before. They descended through Agurru’s thick gray clouds and fired on the Sahiradin invasion force, sending warriors and auxiliaries running for cover. Sahiradin Codex fighters trailed close behind and fired on the newly appeared gunships, but they were soon beset by small drone fighters. The small but deadly drone’s harried the Sahiradin fighters from all sides, forcing them to abandon their attacks or be destroyed.
Logan’s second recollection was of two large transports touching down and rapidly deploying hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers dressed in black and red armor. The transports then lifted off just as more arrived to deliver their payloads of soldiers, heavy guns, and armored vehicles. The newly arrived infantry carried short-barreled particle beam blasters, again very similar but not identical to Lycian weapons. They formed into groups of twenty or so and surged forward, undaunted by the punishing fire from the Sahiradin warriors, who had abandoned their assault against the gates of D’norah Kûhn in order to meet the new threat.
As the next wave of transports disgorged its cargo of red and black clad warriors, the leading elements charged up a low hill and drove a line of tall spikes into the rocky ground. In moments, a three-meter-high shield barrier of shimmering red energy sprang to life between the spikes, affording the newly arrived combatants protection from direct fire.
Logan dug the toes of his boots into the ground as his captors dragged him along, desperately trying to slow their advance. They grew increasing frustrated with his struggling and began to yank him hard whenever he resisted. Nevertheless, even in his increasingly weakened state, Logan continued to struggle for his freedom, eventually forcing the warrior on his right to lose his grip. A warrior who had been walking in front of him turned and shouted at Logan. He lifted the Humani’s chin and struck him twice in the face. Stunned from the blows and feeling the drugs take a deeper hold, Logan went limp.
He had a vague sensation that he was being dragged ever farther from the D’norah Kûhn when he suddenly stopped. There was an angry conversation going on around him. He lifted his head and blinked several times, trying to comprehend what was being said. He looked from side to side and saw he was still being held by two tall, lean warriors, but standing in front of them was a group of Khadiem’s shorter, broad-shouldered offspring. The conversation between the two groups of Sahiradin was heated but short. Soon the warrior holding his left arm relinquished his grip and was replaced by a crooked-nosed child of Khadiem. Together they dragged him a little farther until they reached the ramp of an awaiting Sahiradin gunship. Logan craned his head upward. He saw a turret on top of the gunship. It was firing into the gray sky at the many triangular gunships and rapidly descending transports full of mysterious soldiers eager to charge into battle.
Logan could no longer keep his eyes open. He was being pulled deep into the waters of nothingness – not sleep or even unconsciousness. It was a place devoid of all thoughts and dreams, the absence of being. Before the light of awareness faded entirely, he peered through the open ramp and watched Sahiradin warriors and their Tullan auxiliaries dash forward. Their goal was to force the soldiers dressed in black and red from their position on the small hill. As the Sahiradin charged, many of the hill’s defenders retrieved short rods from their battle packs. With a snap of their wrists, the rods extended into sharpened staves, their tips crackling with purple and red tinged energy.
Undeterred by the fierce-looking polearms, the Sahiradin surged up the hill. Just ahead of them, precision-guided projectiles exploded on the hilltop, destroying the ground under the shield barrier, causing it to collapse.
The two forces collided. The charging Sahiradin cut through the first line of
defenders, but they were immediately pushed back by a forest of pikes thrust into their arms, legs, and chests. The spears discharged blasts of energy on contact, sending Sahiradin bodies flying backward into their comrades in the ranks behind.
Then the gunship’s ramp closed and Logan was dragged down narrow corridors then flung into a small compartment. A warrior, a son of Pashira by the looks of him, locked two metal rings around his wrists. He clicked a button on a small device. The manacles were immediately bound together by a short beam of crackling energy, firmly holding his wrists close together. The Sahiradin gave the manacles a hard tug to ensure the energy bonds were secure then stood up. He spat out an insult, which Logan vaguely understood to relate to his alleged connection to the Alamani. The warrior left the room then pressed a button on the corridor wall which activated a red-tinged force barrier across the entrance.
Logan slumped to the side, no longer able to remain fully conscious. He felt the deck plating begin to vibrate. He heard the gun turret firing again and again. Whum! Whum! Whum! Whum! The skies must be full of targets.
The deck vibrated more violently then shifted to a lower humming sound. But there was something else, too. A familiar sound just below the rattling of the deck and firing of the turret gun. It was a voice, very distant. The image of Beth appeared in his mind. She was screaming his name. “Logan! Look out Logan! No! Come back, Logan! Come back!”
Her calls became louder, somehow penetrating the ship’s metal skin, echoing down the passageway and into his cell. He heard her cries again and again, but now it was fading into the background. He tried to rise and follow her voice, but he lacked the strength to even lift his chin.
“Logan!”
He snapped his head back, momentarily roused from his stupor, then pushed hard with his legs, trying to glide up the wall behind his back but he failed. Unconsciousness once again drew him downward like quicksand. It terrified him. Was he dying? He took several breaths and tried once more to rise, but it was too late. Unconsciousness finally overtook him and he was swallowed into oblivion.
The Sahiradin gunship rose quickly through the permanently overcast skies of Agurru and out of its gravity well, somehow evading the maelstrom raging over the planet’s surface and in its orbit.
The gunship’s nose pointed first toward the outer edge of the Sahiradin fleet, then veered off and shot toward the edge of the system where Havoc had deployed a khâl behind the approaching Sahiradin fleet. The hypergate would soon send Logan many lightyears from his friends, his comrades in arms, and his beloved Beth. In the distance, more expanding silver spheres of light heralded the arrival of more of the mysterious warships through the Lycian khâl.
The Renegade Page 48
