Home Front: A Science Fiction Adventure Series (Sever Squad Book 4)

by A. R. Knight

  “Name?” Gregor asked.

  The man replied with a curse, directed Gregor’s way with a sore loser’s spitting vigor. Sai had the katana’s point at the man’s chin before the words finished firing out.

  “Try again,” Sai said.

  “Conyers,” the man said, eyes on the blade. “Not that it matters. Gonna kill me anyway, I’m thinking.”

  “But not yet,” Gregor said, then the big man nodded away from Conyers, towards the room’s empty space. “Is the other your Casparian friend?”

  “Only two agents left Renard could find,” Conyers affirmed, his attitude draining in sharp gasps as his wounds caught up to him. “We took him from the med bay down here.”

  “He is gone,” Gregor said. “Now, you can talk.”

  Except Conyers couldn’t. As Gregor spoke, the agent’s eyes rolled back and the man passed out again.

  “You’re too scary,” Sai said.

  “Perhaps.” Gregor stood. “Or perhaps it is time we go to the med bay.”

  “Now there’s a plan I can get behind.”

  Sai and Gregor each took a suited body. Thankfully, the invisible things were light enough that Sai only felt piercing twinges every few steps. The walk back came with a gradual shift in the Nautilus itself. Lights changed back to their usual white. Orders calling for repair crews rang over the intercoms. The med bay itself hummed, crowded with squaddies, captive agents, and, now, one member of Sever squad.

  On the bed, when the nursing bot asked Sai if he needed anything else, the man had one request.

  Pull the videos from his inbox. The ones from his family. Sai expected them to be sealed, but the nurse bot complied. Sent along a little screen, and as the medications hit his nerves, Sai saw the smiling faces of a family he’d left behind for far too long.

  Thirty-Three

  Break Point

  While the fighter didn’t have anything on the Prisa’s strength, the thing packed speed into its twin engines. As soon as Aurora said go, Eponi had the fighter popping up and bursting away from the Nautilus.

  The seat sat snug around Eponi, closing in on her shoulders, back, and neck to help with stability through endless barrel rolls and snap dodges, either in atmosphere or dark space. The flight stick, a solo number jutting up between Eponi’s knees, played tight, causing Eponi to overturn her target twice before settling into a strong approach.

  Difficulty came too in finding Renard’s ship at all. The damn craft fuzzed out on the fighter’s screens, like a whisper in a large room. Eponi would’ve had a hard time finding the ship at all except she knew where the man was heading, and the big transport had as much stealth as Gregor on a bender. Tracking back from the boat let Eponi’s scanners find just enough anomaly to get Eponi pointed in the right direction.

  Eponi punched the engines, and soon enough, Renard’s stealth couldn’t cover for close proximity.

  Orange-hued graphics splashed onto the bubble-style windshield, haloing Renard’s ship and surrounding it with translucent numbers counting down to firing range, estimating velocity, and, with a slight ghost white arrow, guessing at Renard’s direction. Not that Eponi needed that help: the big transport shone in the distance, an obvious escape route.

  “Figuring it out?” Eponi said, the fighter sending her words back to Aurora, whose own hands wrapped around the main turret’s gunnery sticks.

  “It’s a turret. I’m fine.”

  “Even with the hits?”

  Eponi knew she wasn’t feeling all that fine. The rush to get to Rovo helped push through the lingering shock from the daring-do rescue attempt and the Prisa’s near star-bursting, but Aurora looked like she’d taken it far worse.

  “I’m fine.”

  Nothing followed. The ice came through the comm. Eponi didn’t question it.

  “Approaching mark,” Eponi said, the little fighter doing its job and closing with Renard. “If they don’t start shooting, you should have a clear angle for the engines. If we get fire—”

  “I won’t miss.”

  Okay. If the iron in Aurora’s voice had a say in things, Renard was done.

  The fighter breezed into laser range with a clear chime. Eponi watched for a turret, for any counter attack, but none came. Either Renard thought Sever wouldn’t risk attacking with Rovo on board, or he’d spent all the cash on hiding and none on surviving.

  Eponi slid the approach angle down. She’d come in sharp, swooping behind and then underneath the ship. Aurora would have a broad window to line up and take enough shots to pierce shields and burn out the engines, and while the fighter didn’t have any way to take Rovo on board, Deepak had another drop shuttle ready to go.

  Easy.

  So easy, that Eponi answered the incoming hail without any concern. Normally, you don’t interrupt an attack run with idle conversation, but Renard’s total lack of evasive maneuvering and Eponi’s confidence in Aurora’s trigger fingers, meant she could take Deepak’s call and tell him to get that shuttle ready.

  “You’ll hold your fire if you want your friend to live,” Renard’s voice crackled through, crashing Eponi’s sanguine approach. “If your fighter sends a single laser my way, your man dies.”

  “You kill him,” Aurora said. “You lose your chance to find Kaia.”

  “Wrong,” Renard replied. “I merely delay it. We have her planet, we know her father. We will find her.”

  Eponi watched the range dwindle. They’d be entering target range in seconds.

  “So we let you go?” Aurora said. “With Rovo? Not happening.”

  “A hostage is still alive, commander. A corpse is just that.”

  Eponi muted the call while slowing the fighter down.

  “Gonna have to make a call here, Aurora,” Eponi said. “I can sit behind Renard, but he’s getting close to that transport, and I don’t want to play tag with those big guns if I don’t have to.”

  “Can you think of any other option?”

  “Right now? You and me, we’re in a tiny capsule without much flexibility,” Eponi said. “Maybe we could jostle Renard’s ship enough to knock him over, but without a boarding party, we’re tied.”

  “If he gets to that transport, we’ll never see Rovo again.”

  Aurora’s voice had that dead finality to it. The tone Eponi had heard the captain use a few times before, when circumstances sent another squad member around their final lap. Aurora might be deploying it as a safety valve for her own psyche, calling the race before it ended to save herself the pain.

  Eponi had done that herself. She’d also made reckless attempts to get back in it, push for victory against terrible odds.

  The last time she’d done that, it’d ended Eponi’s career.

  “Call us off,” Eponi said, “and let’s turn back. They won’t kill Rovo. Not right away at least. We can try again.”

  “Try again? When?”

  “We follow. Pick the place, time, and get our rookie back.”

  Eponi eased the fighter in behind Renard’s ship, floating behind the larger craft’s engines. With a tap, she brought in the transport’s signature over the windshield, a new number set telling Eponi how long they had till the transport could start taking pot shots.

  “I’m assuming the silence means you’re mulling over your options,” Renard said. “If it matters, I wanted you all dead. Your damn squad ruined Dynas, and I thought you deserved payback. But now you’ve given me what I really needed, and in exchange? I might not kill you all.”

  Aurora’s cursing carried through the cockpits. Enough for both of them.

  “You hurt him,” Aurora said, “You do anything to my squad again, and I’ll make sure you never see another dawn.”

  “A threat?” Renard laughed, a wheezy thing. “Please. I’ve heard far worse. If things go well, I’ll see to it that your rookie is left with enough cash to buy transport home, wherever that happens to be. Now, please take your fighter away, or I’ll be forced to make a mess.”

  Thirty-Four


  Wishes and Wants

  Rovo recognized the room. A DefenseCorp standard special: no frills, all function. And this room’s function was recuperation. Rest en route to a destination. Rovo laid on a thin cot, with a black screen on his left pulling numbers for his vitals: heart rate, respiration, temp, all yanked by his contact with the bed.

  The room sported a thin chair and a small hanging screen in a corner for entertainment or, as Gregor called it, sanity preservation. A single soft white door, with no handle or scanner to open, sealed Rovo inside the pocket-sized chamber. Even if Rovo had a wristlet, he couldn’t get out unless someone watching let him.

  Because, even on transports, soldiers could snap. Trauma, anger, panic. All those things necessitated spaces where a squaddie would be kept from harming himself or anyone else.

  Not that Rovo had to worry: his own body still felt so sore, beat up, and unwilling to cooperate with aggressive action that he stayed on that cot and stared at the featureless gray ceiling overhead. He remembered, through scattered flashes, what’d happened on Renard’s ship. The man had spoken with Aurora, it seemed. With Deepak maybe. Threatened Rovo’s life.

  Well, that wasn’t too surprising.

  If you’re going to take a hostage, you might as well use them.

  The door hissed open, and Rovo expected Renard. Instead, he saw an older woman. One he recognized. One who’d been with Aurora when she came waltzing into the comm center to start that firefight.

  The agent.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” the woman said, sitting in the chair and crossing her legs, like some therapist about to deliver life-changing advice. “Took you awhile.”

  “Been a rough day.”

  “For many,” the woman replied. “Which is why I’m here. We took you along because we’re hoping you can make all this pain worth it.”

  Rovo rolled up onto his side, his sore chest protesting the move, but he wanted to get a straight look at the woman.

  “By giving Renard what he wants.”

  “We’ll get there,” the woman said, delivering a patient look like the one Rovo’s mom used to deliver when he wound himself up too much. “How about we start with names? I’m Vana.”

  Not much harm in introductions.

  “Rovo.”

  Vana inclined her head, “Nice to meet you, Rovo. Do you know where you are?”

  “On a transport,” Rovo said, “and let me guess, it’s going to Gillane Four?”

  “Are all you Sever Squad members this smart?”

  “We’re impatient.”

  “I see that,” Vana said, not once slipping away from that patient smile. “Then let me dispense with the pretenses. We’re going to Gillane Four to get the girl, because what she has what we need.”

  “You’re talking like it’s some object she’s carrying, instead of her blood.”

  Vana dismissed the words, moving on, “You saw the suits. I didn’t believe Renard could pull it off, but he has. Casparian cells woven in with standard reflective material. Keeps it healthy and resilient, like a protective paint coating. Except it’s fragile.”

  “Didn’t seem so fragile to me,” Rovo said.

  Vana seemed fine explaining the show, and Rovo figured he wouldn’t stand in her way. The more information he had, the better. Sever would be coming after him, and when Aurora caught up, Rovo would love to share what he found.

  “It can hold a punch or a laser blast well enough,” Vana said. “Casparians, however, are sensitive things. They can’t take extreme temperatures. Renard believes the suits will fail outside of controlled climates. But blend in the working resistance from that scientist’s virus, and now?”

  “Congratulations, you have everything an agent could want.”

  “Everything DefenseCorp could want,” Vana countered. “The galaxy is a dangerous place, Rovo. Despite our position, DefenseCorp has to protect its interests. We cannot rest. A suit like this would put our power at the top. And there’s room up there.”

  Ah. There it was.

  “You understand,” Vana said. “I can see that. Help us find the girl, and you’ll help yourself. These suits will change our entire organization, and in change, there’s opportunity. With Renard and I backing you, you’ll have more power, more cash than you could ever need.”

  Rovo struggled to keep from blinking, from laughing. He’d joined DefenseCorp for adventure, not cash, but maybe Vana couldn’t figure that. Couldn’t figure why anyone would do this for something other than money and power.

  And that realization gave Rovo an opening. A chance.

  “I’ll help you,” Rovo said. “So long as she won’t get hurt. Kaia.”

  “Not more than a normal doctor’s visit,” Vana assured. “A little poke, a little sample, and that’s all we need.”

  “Then when we land, I’ll find her for you.”

  Vana stood, “You’ll find her for you. Welcome to our team, Rovo. Rest up and recover. I’m afraid your old friends may not see things the same way. and you may well have to persuade them.”

  Rovo watched Vana leave, walking up to the door and glancing towards a silver nub in a corner. Watched the door shut tight, sealing the rookie inside.

  No, Sever wouldn’t see things the same way. Rovo would make damn sure of that.

  Thirty-Five

  The Choice

  The distant nebula bloomed rose through the Nautilus viewing deck, at the ship’s top. Personnel from all branches stood and sat at thin tables, sharing cheap wines and scrappy finger food. The prettiest place on the Nautilus still danced to DefenseCorp’s profit-pushing fiddle, but the dry crackers and the fruit juice couldn’t do anything to diminish the view.

  “We’ve set the course,” Deepak said. “We’ll be behind you, of course, but your back-up will arrive eventually.”

  Aurora nodded, smiled a bit at their bandages in the viewing deck’s deep purple lighting, meant to draw focus to outer space’s varied wonders.

  “What made you change your mind?” Aurora asked. “Before, you were willing to give Renard whatever he wanted.”

  “I still would if I thought it would keep my command safe,” Deepak replied. “Your squad, however, ruined that opportunity.”

  “Oh no. You’re being forced to do the right thing. How terrible.”

  Deepak threw a sharp look Aurora’s way, “I lost troops today. A lot. DefenseCorp will compensate their families, but the pain they’ll feel when they learn their son’s, daughter’s, or parent’s fate won’t be covered up with cash.”

  “Better to die protecting a free galaxy than live under whatever Renard’s planning.”

  Deepak didn’t reply to that. For several minutes they both watched the stars, surrounding conversations bubbling quiet around them. Aurora’s mind bent towards Rovo, zooming towards Gillane Four. She believed Renard when the man said he wouldn’t kill the rookie: agents had a way of wringing all the use they could out of someone before dumping them dead in an alley.

  Eponi had posted herself at the Prisa, supervising repairs. Deepak had promised Sever new stocks of power armor and weapons, something Gregor had put himself to managing. Sai still occupied a med bay bed, burning the hours while the salves did their work. All told, they would be ready to depart the Nautilus in a few days, speeding off in the Prisa after Renard, after Rovo.

  “I’m sending messages to all the other admirals I know,” Deepak said, breaking the silence. “Backing up the words you already sent. It will carry weight, maybe enough to turn them against Renard and the agents.” The next line seemed to struggle from his mouth, as if he couldn’t quite believe he spoke it. “I don’t know that DefenseCorp will survive this.”

  “Maybe it shouldn’t,” Aurora said. “Maybe we shouldn’t live in a galaxy where one organization has this much power. Where a few people can decide the fate of trillions.”

  “Isn’t that what your squad is doing right now, Aurora? A few people, deciding the fate of trillions?”


  Aurora counted the aches, the scratches, and the burns playing their painful notes across her nerves. She ran through Dynas, Wexer, and the Nautilus corridors that’d brought her right here. Sever’s five had broken open a secret plan, had turned DefenseCorp against itself, a corporate civil war that could . . .

  She wasn’t much for speculation.

  “I guess you have to choose,” Aurora said. “Renard’s ideas, or mine.”

  Deepak nodded slow, “Think I’ve already made that choice.”

  Outside, the rose nebulae seemed to flare against the dark. A star sending out its final goodbye to an endless universe, or just a trick of the light?

  Aurora picked up her glass, clinked it against Deepak’s, “Then let’s go get the bastard.”

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