Battle for Maji-Onda (Starmen (Space Opera Series) Book 2)

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Battle for Maji-Onda (Starmen (Space Opera Series) Book 2) Page 6

by J. M. Hagan


  As he trimmed a plant, he relived his encounter here with Venec the day he arrived vividly. So clearly, in fact, that it almost felt like a holographic recreation located entirely within sight of his mind’s eye.

  Hydroponics isn’t my strong suit – you wanna take care of the damn plants? Go ahead.

  A grin took him as he recalled Venec’s charm. Lately, with all that had been going on, he’d barely found an opportunity for pleasant expressions. It didn’t take long before he returned to the moment when Venec passed…

  Cane shut his eyes and crushed the stem he had been trimming so delicately in a shaking fist. Why is everything so damn intense? Every thought is like a dagger.

  Cane got some coffee on his way to command. He sat in his pilot’s den.

  It had been a month since he’d had more than four hours sleep in a single day. The length of time he was spending awake was growing despite the increased levels of exhaustion he was suffering through.

  No matter what he did, he couldn’t focus fully on any task. He thanked the heavens that Siena had joined them when she had, as overseeing their training on his own would’ve been something he was incapable of now.

  His head dipped with eyes folding over slowly…then he caught a glimpse of a Dok’ra warrior. Cane’s head shot up sharply. He moaned.

  “Cane, are you all right?” Europa inquired.

  He sniffed. Reached over and took his coffee up. “I’m fine,” he grunted, taking a drink of the stale, room temperature stimulant.

  “There are some pills you could take in the infirmary that might help you sleep,” she suggested, and not for the first time.

  “I tried them. They didn’t work.”

  “Then, perhaps, you should visit the medical pod. It can induce sleep very quickly and will keep you under until you are fully rested.”

  Cane didn’t reply. He gazed out at the stars feeling numb, his head a muddle.

  9

  February…

  She fell into thought – a terrible thing for a writer, especially one who was out of practice. Claudia kept having story ideas bounce around in her head. Some that were truly ludicrous. A story about a vampire…set during a zombie apocalypse…wait...genre cross-over? No wonder I was self-published. That is a terrible…and the vampires are starving slowly but surely as the human population dies out…and the love interest is a girl who has lost everyone, and she’s all alone…they have no one else, so they fall for each other…and then he offers to turn her, so they can be immortal together…wait, but then she would starve…no guy is worth that, even if he is a hot vampire.

  Claudia looked into the corner, pursing her lips with a hand tucked under her chin. Her brow furrowed slightly.

  I don’t even like vampire stories. Wait. They’ve found somewhere…a colony…a food source that can sustain them. But, before she can be turned, someone from earlier in the story arrives to save her…he kills the vampire and she realises she loved him all along anyway. The end. Kind of works. But who is he? Where did she meet him? Before? During? Where has he been? Was she kidnapped by the vampire and he’s searching for her? Ugh. This story is terrible.

  Claudia shook her head and shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. She turned in her chair and her hand waved blindly over the desk terminal. It came on with a soft blip.

  “That’s it. I’m writing something. Just to clear the trash from my head,” she muttered. “Europa?”

  A few seconds later. “How may I help, Claudia?”

  “Can you play my sleep music for me?” she asked. The ambient music lulled her to sleep some nights when she was having difficulty. Then rovian language tapes came on after.

  “Are you going to bed already? It’s still early.”

  “No. I need it for background noise. It helps me concentrate.”

  The music came on. “Enjoy your writing, Claudia. I’m glad to see you are feeling creative again. Call if you need anything further.”

  “Thanks, Europa,” she said, in the process of typing out her first line.

  She didn’t plan any of what was coming out. Her usually rapid fingers did the talking, as she pressed the keys feeling sluggish.

  I already know the narrative is crap. But the dialogue isn’t so bad. Maybe I can work with this…

  *

  It had been weeks since his first private lesson with Siena.

  No matter what he did, though, Anderson couldn’t stop thinking about her in that way. Jack might not have started these thoughts coming into his head, but he proved their existence, and now Anderson found it hard to ignore them. Why did I open my big mouth?

  Siena sent a quick slap through his guard and caught his cheek. “Focus!” she blared at him.

  Anderson blinked, coming back to the moment in surprise. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “When you’re in a fight, you need to be here,” she instructed, pointing out her eyes, “nowhere else.”

  “You’re right. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologise. Just don’t do it again,” she warned with authority.

  The bags beneath her eyes relayed that the training was taking its toll on Siena.

  Ever since she first joined them, she’d been giving at least one private lesson a day to the Earth crew. Not only was she training them CQC and running the HC simulations with them, but she had been teaching them about hacking. They could bust through door lock security and bypass firewalls with their PDPs.

  With her guidance, Anderson’s progress was soaring. The days of Jack always being number one were long gone – they each had their days – and it had been like that for more than a month.

  Siena took a stance.

  She swept in like she’d done a dozen times before throughout the course of their training, but he’d learnt from those previous attacks which had put him face down in the mat.

  He anticipated her movement and caught her shoulder before she could hook his arm, spun her around, driving an open palm into her chest, and Siena was thrown back a step.

  She came back at him in a flash, before he could even applaud himself mentally for his slight victory, and struck him in the belly with a knee.

  Anderson doubled over, a sharp breath shooting out. Then she tumbled along his back to get behind him, kicked the rear of his knee when she landed, and he went down on one side.

  He was far from beaten.

  Anderson scurried back to his feet and put some space between them before he turned to face her again. Siena came at him throwing strikes that he blocked and parried with his hands while retreating until his back met the wall with a thud.

  Siena was giving it everything.

  Anderson, unfettered by her efforts, slid to the left, avoiding a powerful side-kick that would’ve busted him in the belly. When her foot hit the wall, he hooked under her leg and drove Siena back. They fell into the ground together.

  Her leg was over his shoulder as he pinned her. Siena was panting when they locked eyes. Anderson swallowed, staring at her pillow-soft lips. He felt powerful, in control.

  It was still a very new feeling.

  “Well done,” she praised him.

  He almost wished he had it in him to caress her soft cheek. But then his head dropped, breaking eye contact, and the moment was gone. He regretted it before they’d even returned to their feet. Siena coughed nervously as he helped her up.

  “Um…let’s call it a day,” she said, her tone urging him to believe that nothing had happened. But they both knew. Siena itched the back of her head.

  “Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly. “I think I’m done for now.”

  “You’re improving a lot,” she said, delivering a small, genuine smile.

  “I have a good teacher.”

  “I think you mixed up your rovian again. What you meant to say was the best teacher,” she joked, rolling her silver eyes.

  *

  A vision slashed at him and Cane saw the great and terrible war of the future.

  He saw it as though it were
happening before his eyes. So much death and suffering, so many helpless people doomed to die because of the ambitions of one man. Then he saw himself and witnessed the deaths of the future-crew at the hands of the Overseers and the Dok’ra.

  A hand went to his swelling head as he wept. Europa was calling his name, over and over, and he couldn’t respond. A terrible feeling of foreboding seized his gut as the visions ceased. He thumped the console with a fist.

  “Cane!”

  “Europa…” He bit down and swallowed, his fiery cheeks running with perspiration. Then he checked his HUD and saw that they were about to fall out of sub-space having completed their jump across several light-years of space. “I have a very bad feeling…”

  A white light flashed ahead of him as they returned to ordinary space. His console flashed red in an instant. Multiple dots appeared on the radar.

  “Contact,” warned Europa.

  “Dok’ra,” guffawed Cane, before he’d even checked the readings to be sure.

  “Everyone,” he blared over the ship-wide com, as a cold wave sailed along his spine, “get to the command bridge, on the double!”

  “Cane, what’s going on?” Jack demanded in response.

  “Dok’ra!”

  He consulted his instrumentation and saw that the enemy numbered fourteen – twelve small fighters and two transport gunships. They were waiting nearby to this system’s star. For how long, he couldn’t tell. But he realised that they must have figured out their route to Maji-Onda.

  “Everyone hurry! We’re almost in combat range, and they’re on a swift approach!”

  Anderson and Siena arrived firstly. They hurried to their co-pilot fixtures on the double, just like they had been taught in the many drills they performed in preparation for this moment, hoping that it would never arrive.

  Claudia was ghost-white when she and Jack hurried out of the lift next.

  “Can’t we jump away?” she asked, rushing over.

  “It isn’t like before,” Cane explained, “they’re too close.”

  “What can we do?” Jack inquired, as they got buckled up in chairs at the back of the bridge.

  “Sit tight, and hope we don’t get boarded. If we do, you’ll be our first line of defence.”

  Jack and Claudia shared a worried look. But Jack fought against it with a tightening jaw. “If it comes to that, we’re ready,” he insisted.

  10

  Anderson prepped the drone operated from his co-pilot station. It came out from its compartment located beneath Europa. Then he checked the scanner readings. Twelve enemy ships were bearing down on them while two transport shuttles lagged behind.

  “Cane, please, tell us this isn’t a test?” Anderson begged, feeling his bottom lip quiver.

  A fighter shot toward them, weapon’s firing.

  “No, this is very real!”

  Brace for impact.

  Anderson clasped the flying sticks in his hands and squeezed, seeing bright streams of light zoom at them. The blasts struck Europa’s shields head on, and they were rattled in their chairs.

  “Europa, full combat speed,” Cane cried.

  Affirmative.

  “We’re going right at them. Siena, Anderson – hit them with everything you’ve got on the way by. Make sure those drones keep up! I want you flying formation with me!”

  Anderson piloted his drone alongside Europa. Cane’s aggressive approach was unexpected – he’d expected them to flee with the drones covering their retreat. He must be a firm believer in the good offence argument.

  He saw multiple targets on the screen of his HUD. Each target was ringed with red circles. Anderson drew his aim toward the closest enemy on his side, seeing from the corner of his eye that Siena was already firing at her target and scoring hits.

  He blasted his in the nose with heavy repeaters, reducing it to a blazing torch. Bullets trailed along the canopy and it shattered, with the pilot’s chair, and the pilot, blowing out into space.

  “Yes! Great shot!” screamed Jack.

  Fuelled with adrenaline, he masterfully followed Europa as Cane performed a spiralling ascent. They boosted high above their foes, and Anderson flipped his drone, so that the canopy was looking down on them, and when his turrets had rotated, he fired off rounds in the direction of the Dok’ra, continuously adjusting his aim as he flew at speed to pepper them. Sparks and fires shot from the damaged hulls of multiple fighters.

  Heavy blaster fire came from the transport ships that were closing in behind the fighters. Europa took them to the aft, and when he rattled in his chair, Anderson slammed his jaw as he fought to keep flying steady, swaying to-and-fro briefly.

  “Europa, target the lead transport with your forward cannon!” ordered Cane.

  Targeting…

  Siena took one down. It fell away in a blaze. Then Anderson targeted the one next to it and fired off a few rounds, causing some damage to its wing before he passed.

  Blaster fire narrowly missed the front of his drone. He bit down tensely again when he realised he’d almost lost it.

  Target locked.

  “Fire!” screamed Cane.

  The cannon erupted – they rattled fiercely – a huge blue ball of energy swished through space.

  Anderson looked up to see out the window, and watched as it sailed true and hit the target clean in the front. The transport ship was sent spiralling, its shields powered down to zero.

  Just when it had felt like another small victory, Europa alluded them to a wave of incoming missiles. Anderson winced as he watched them approach on the radar.

  “Drones, break away,” ordered Cane.

  Siena and Anderson complied, taking off to each side, and missiles went after them both. In seconds, the one on his tail was dangerously close. Anderson descended rapidly, swirling, and whirling, and turning. Even with all of the drone’s incredible aerial agility, it was tough to shake the damn thing.

  “Cane, how is Europa doing?” he demanded in alarm, when he realised there was little hope of her evading the four missiles coming after her entirely.

  “Just focus on your drone!”

  “FYI, not so good,” Jack blared behind him, in distress.

  “I’ll have you know, things are perfectly fine,” Cane assured, with a brassy tone. “Europa, deploy decoys!”

  Enlivened by his fellow crew member’s stroke of genius, Anderson focused on his flying. The missile was gaining on him, but he was dodging it skilfully thanks to the many hours of combat training he’d logged lately.

  Anderson checked his distance – the space between his drone and the missile was adequate for him to attempt a skilful manoeuvre.

  He flipped his drone, firing full-auto, and blasted the missile. A sigh of relief. Then he chased down the missile that was on Siena’s tail and blew it away. She shot him a nod from across the room.

  “Cane, the decoys aren’t effective,” warned Europa.

  “What?!”

  “The missiles are ignoring them.”

  “Shit!” screeched Claudia. “I hate this! I feel so helpless here!”

  Brace for impact!

  The first missile caught up to them and blew on Europa’s rear shield. Anderson, while rumbling in his seat, eyed the ship’s status screen on his left panel.

  The shields were down to 18%.

  Then another missile, and another, and another. They were thrown about, the lights blinked out around them. Warning lights were going off at his console, and sirens alarmed from the status screen.

  Shields offline.

  “We’ve taken heavy damage to the engines,” Europa warned.

  Cane shook his head and blinked. He hurried to take the flight controls again and steer them away from the incoming blaster fire sent from the remaining fighters.

  “Europa – deploy A.R.U.s!”

  Automated repair units – deployed.

  “The second transport is coming for us,” Siena alarmed, as she flew toward it with her drone.

  “If
they board this ship, we’re in serious trouble!” shouted Cane. “Anderson, Siena – attack that transport!”

  His drone could deal with fighters, but a heavily armoured transport gunship was another matter entirely. Anderson swallowed as he hurried to obey Cane’s command, not allowing fear to win. If I screw up here, they’ll kill me! Worse. If I screw up, the Dok’ra will kill me!

  The screen flashed a warning that the transport had locked onto his drone. Anderson swiftly took measures to evade the impending fire of its heavy repeaters.

  He evaded with an arching ascent. Then he swooped in to come around behind his foe at a wide angle, while the transport continued heading toward the stationary Europa.

  “Mark, don’t forget the second transport!” cried Siena.

  He checked his radar in shock. Don’t forget it? I had forgotten it! The second transport, though damaged by Europa’s cannon earlier, was coming toward them again. As he swooped around to come behind the other transport, the damaged ship came gunning for his rear.

  Just when he squeezed the sticks in his hands tighter than ever before, experiencing that awful encroaching feeling of impending failure in his gut, Siena came swiftly to his rescue.

  Her repeaters blasted the other transport’s weaponry. He could see the damage being reported in real time on his HUD, and it revealed she had succeeded in disabling its forward hardpoint.

  With a breath of relief, he hurried to position his aim on the other transport’s rear. On his screen, he saw the very real danger Europa was in.

  A half dozen fighters were taking shots at them, and when he looked out the window he saw streams of targeted pulse beam fire come at them.

  Cane angled his shot by using the landing thrusters to turn Europa, and fired his pulse lasers and repeaters as one, swiftly annihilating one of the fighters.

  Anderson checked the damage on the transport, and found that despite a few seconds of constant, aimed fire, he’d only done minimal damage to the target’s shields.

  “Siena, help me with this quickly! We’ll take a pass at the other transport next!”

  “No time,” cried Siena. “Two fighters are breaking away from the battle with Europa. They’re both coming at me! I need your help!”

 

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