Vanquish (The Pike Chronicles Book 6)

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Vanquish (The Pike Chronicles Book 6) Page 6

by G. P. Hudson


  But what if Jon died? Who would step in?

  Kevin hadn’t given much thought to what might come next, but it wouldn’t be simple. Without Jon, the Diakans could pull their support, or try and take over. Earth would return to a puppet government.

  The Diakans had leverage. If they refused to support the war effort, humanity would have a hard time defending against both the Juttari and the Kemmar. Kevin considered the motives of the poisoning. Could it be part of some kind of power play?

  Chapter 15

  Seiben sat in sick bay with Breeah, watching the approach toward Diakus on one of the displays. Marines were posted inside sick bay, as well as just outside the door. He could practically taste the tension in the air.

  Jon had become more than an admiral. More than a hero. He had turned into some kind of messiah, leading the human race out of the wilderness. He brought hope where none existed. Light where there was only darkness. And now this man, this Atlas, could die.

  Seiben tried focusing on the display to distract his mind. “Have you been to Diakus before?” he asked Breeah.

  Breeah gave him a confused look at first, clearly lost in her own thoughts. Glancing at the display she seemed to understand Seiben’s question, as well as his intent to ease the tension. “No. I have not.”

  “Me neither. It’s enormous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an inhabited planet that big before. Hell, you can probably fit five Earths inside it.”

  “It is extremely large. Perhaps a planet of that size is required to give birth to a galactic empire.”

  “Maybe. Look at all that water. It makes the oceans of Earth and New Byzantium look like puddles.”

  “When I first saw New Byzantium’s oceans, I was awestruck. In the asteroid field where I grew up, water was extremely valuable.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  Breeah shrugged. “It was our way. The natural order of things. We knew nothing else, so we did not think it difficult.”

  “That’s why you’re all so tough.”

  Breeah smiled at the compliment. “Perhaps you will have an opportunity to sample the Diakan seafood before we leave.”

  “Once they cure Jon, I’ll give it a try. So long as it’s edible.”

  “You believe they will heal Jon?”

  “Of course. I’m sure of it.”

  Breeah nodded, staring at the floor. “I have experienced much loss and sorrow in my life. It is difficult to be so optimistic.”

  “I understand,” said Seiben. “But I’m telling you, these Diakans will get this sorted out. Hell, they cleaned up Earth didn’t they? You think they can’t figure out some symbiont poison?”

  “I hope you are right.”

  A door slid open and Dr. Ellerbeck entered the room.

  “How is Jon, Doctor?” said Breeah.

  “Not good,” said Ellerbeck. “The symbiont is fighting a losing battle. I don’t know how long it can hold out. The sooner we can get him to the surface, the better.”

  Breeah simply frowned.

  Dr. Ellerbeck turned to Seiben. “Will you be coming down to the surface with us, Mr. Seiben?”

  “Yes, if that’s ok,” said Seiben, looking at Breeah.

  “Of course it’s ok. Why would it not be? I want you there, and so would Jon,” said Breeah.

  “I don’t have any objections,” said Ellerbeck. “We’ll be heading down shortly so you better get ready.”

  “I’m ready. I don’t need anything.”

  “How about you Breeah?” said Ellerbeck.

  “I do not need anything either.”

  “Dr. Ellerbeck,” said Kevin’s voice over Ellerbeck’s comm. “We are entering orbit around Diakus. Please transport the Admiral to the hangar bay.”

  “Understood,” said Ellerbeck, returning to the other room.

  When the doors slid open again, Ellerbeck reappeared with Jon on a hovering gurney. Breeah jumped up to Jon’s bedside. “He is still unconscious?”

  “Yes,” said Ellerbeck.

  “Can he hear me?”

  Ellerbeck gave Breeah a sympathetic look. “Probably not.”

  Breeah gripped his hand and walked alongside the gurney out the door.

  “Jon?” said Breeah, scrutinizing him for any sign he heard her. “Jon?”

  Chapter 16

  “Jon?”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “Do you have to go?”

  Jon looked into his wife’s pale blue eyes, still as beautiful as the day he first saw them. As she lay in bed beside him, he wished he never had to leave. “I don’t have a choice, Tess. You know that. This is a war, and I’m a soldier. I go where they send me.”

  “I hate it when you’re gone.”

  “I hate being away from you and the girls.”

  “I just don’t understand why we’re still fighting. The Juttari are gone. Earth is free. Why are we still at war?”

  “Earth is only free of the Juttari, my love. But do not make the mistake of thinking it is free.”

  “The Diakans,” Tess said with a frown.

  “Yes. Earth is in their debt, and it needs their protection. That means we are not free. But we will be. One day humans will be free.”

  “Now you sound like your father.”

  Jon smiled. “He taught me everything I know.”

  “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

  “I don’t”

  “Did they say where you’d be going?”

  “Not yet.”

  Tess pouted. “Surely they understand how hard this is on families like ours.”

  “Who? The Diakans, or my human superiors?”

  “All of them.”

  “Well, I don’t think the Diakans care much how we feel about things. And my superiors? Most of them only know how to kiss Diakan ass.”

  “Stop that,” Tess said reproachfully.

  “It’s true. You can’t attain any position of power without sucking up to the Diakans. Anyone who tries to stand up to them is quickly demoted. But what do I know? I’m just a soldier. I fight, they kiss Diakan ass.”

  “You’re too hard on them. I’m sure we have a lot of smart people in power.”

  “Oh they’re smart alright. They know how to play the game, that’s for sure.”

  “You are too cynical, Jon Pike.”

  Jon pulled her close to him. “Not when it comes to you I’m not.”

  Tess kissed him gently. “Try not to be cynical with others either.”

  “It’s hard, after all I’ve seen.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s seen things, you know. Did you forget that I’m a trauma nurse? There isn’t a battlefield injury that I haven’t seen, or worked on for that matter.”

  “I know. You’re a badass.”

  “You better believe it. So don’t give me any of that tough guy nonsense.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You’ll do more than try.”

  “You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re acting all badass and stuff.”

  “Forget it.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not stupid, Jon. I know that look, and you can get it out of your head. The girls will be up soon.”

  “We still have time.”

  “No.”

  Jon heard the pitter patter of little feet outside their room.

  “See, I told you,” said Tess. “Rise and shine.”

  Jon turned to roll out of bed just as the door burst open. His two daughters ran in and jumped on the bed. “Daddy, daddy, can you take us to the playground today?”

  “Sure thing,” said Jon, barely resisting an urge to pinch his daughter’s pudgy cheeks.

  “You kids take it easy on your father today,” said Tess. “Remember, he’s leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you going to war again, daddy?

  “I am.”

  “Do you like going to war?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Then why do you always go?”
<
br />   “I go because I have to. I’m a soldier, and we are at war.”

  “Why can’t they send someone else?”

  “Because I’m the best!” Jon seized the two girls and tickled them, causing belly laughs to burst forth from both of them as they squirmed and kicked, futilely trying to get away. Laughter filled the room. Jon looked over at Tess, who laughed along with her daughters. A moment of happiness he wished would last forever.

  Tomorrow he would leave. Again. Back to the horror and misery of war.

  One day we’ll be free, he thought. One day this happiness will last.

  Chapter 17

  “All teams will board in five minutes,” said the Diakan commander, his voice coming through the speakers in Jon’s helmet.

  Jon stood on the hangar bay deck wearing an armored combat suit, as the ship shuddered from the repeated enemy bombardment. The Diakan fleet had successfully pushed through the system’s defenses, and now engaged the ships defending the main planet. While the Diakans had the numerical advantage, the planet’s defenders were proving to be more stubborn than anticipated.

  “The Juttari aren’t happy to see us,” said Kevin St. Clair, Jon’s friend and team member, from behind his own combat suit.

  “Nobody told them we were having a party,” said Jon, with a chuckle. “They probably feel snubbed.”

  The Diakan commander stood by one of the shuttles, keeping a wary eye on all the humans.

  “I don’t think our Diakan commander is too keen on the party idea,” said Kevin.

  “He is a bit of a stiff, isn’t he?” Jon didn’t like taking orders from Diakans, but this was a Diakan operation, and they were on a Diakan ship. That meant the Diakans were calling the shots.

  Jon scanned the cavernous hangar bay. Endless columns of human soldiers in combat suits waited for the order to board their assault shuttles. The shuttles would then take them into low orbit where they would be shot into space, toward the planet. Once on the ground their objective was to take out a planetary defense station.

  A low orbit drop could be scary, but it wasn’t Jon’s first. In reality, a low orbit drop was much safer than coming down in a transport. The combat suit protected them from the elements, especially atmospheric entry.

  Once they entered the atmosphere, they would free fall to the surface. Unlike a ship, or a missile, they would not generate a heat signature, making it difficult for air defenses to get a lock on them. It was only when they got close to the surface that they would activate thrusters to slow themselves down. The g forces of the drop, and the braking maneuver were immense, but the combat suits had small, built in inertial dampeners that nullified most of the adverse effects.

  “Think we’ve got enough numbers?” said Kevin.

  “If we don’t, it was nice knowing you,” said Jon.

  “Funny.”

  “I thought so.”

  A loud horn began blaring repeatedly and the Diakan commander’s voice filled Jon’s helmet again. “Begin boarding. I repeat, begin boarding.”

  Jon and Kevin fell into line with the rest of the human soldiers, slowly following the combat suits ahead of them to their designated assault shuttle. As they approached, Jon noticed the weapon turrets mounted on the exterior of the jet black spacecraft.

  An assault shuttle could be formidable under some circumstances, but not in this instance. He doubted any of them would make it to the surface on board that thing. They would end up as target practice for the Juttari defenders.

  Inside the shuttle the heavy metal boots stomping to their seats, and the bolts locking each man in place, sounded like hundreds of jack hammers pulverizing the ship. The rows of seats lining the interior of the shuttle quickly filled with the lethal metallic warriors headed for the surface.

  Jon and Kevin sat beside each other and waited for the shuttle to get into position. Once it was full, and everyone locked in place, the Diakan craft began to move. Jon pulled up a display on his visor, showing their progress. An icon differentiated their craft from the rest of the shuttles. They were like a school of fish, swimming in the black sea of space.

  Jon noticed with dismay that some of the shuttles drew fire from the enemy, and their icons began to vanish from his display. He had hoped the Diakans would not launch the shuttles until they had asserted some sort of orbital superiority.

  Since the planetary defense station focused on the large battleships, not the shuttles, it meant the shuttles were drawing fire from enemy ships. Clearly the Diakans preferred speed, regardless of how many human lives were lost.

  Jon cursed as more icons disappeared from the display, while the rest raced for the edges of the planet’s atmosphere. Jon turned off the tactical display and closed his eyes. He focused on his family, visualizing their faces, and hearing the sound of their laughter. He would not die today. He would see them again.

  “Begin planetary insertion,” ordered the Diakan commander, as their shuttle got into position for the orbital drops.

  “Game time,” said Kevin.

  The bolts released the combat suits, allowing Jon and the others to stand. They all made their way toward the drop compartments at the back of the shuttle. Each man would enter the compartment, and then literally get shot, like a giant bullet, at the planet. Entering the atmosphere would turn them into white hot fireballs.

  Jon tried not to think about it too much, as it only served to convince him of his insanity. Why didn’t this scare him? Even with his upbringing in the resistance, he probably should feel some pang of fear. But he never had. Not the first time, and not now.

  His turn came and he entered the drop compartment. “See you on the ground,” he said to Kevin through his comm.

  The door shut, sealing the compartment off from the rest of the shuttle. “Computer, lock limbs for orbital entry,” Jon ordered, and the combat suit became rigid, with his arms and legs locked in place. Flailing arms and legs were a recipe for disaster in an orbital drop.

  Jon stood there trying to predict when it would happen. There should be a countdown or something, he thought, as the floor vanished, catapulting him feet first toward the planet.

  A shield dropped over his visor, blocking his view of the space around him, and protecting his eyes. A myriad of biometric data filled his vision instead, telling him how well his body dealt with the situation. His heart rate was up a bit, but that was to be expected. Other than that, everything functioned normally. If something did happen to be off, the combat suit would administer drugs to compensate.

  Other statistics reported on the integrity of his suit. It stood up well so far, withstanding the vacuum and radiation of space.

  When he entered the atmosphere another number appeared, showing the external temperature of the suit. He wasn’t a fan of that number, as it made him feel like a human shish kebab.

  That the suit could withstand such temperatures and not melt was nothing short of astonishing. Although, when you considered that all sorts of vessels did the same thing as a matter of routine, it seemed logical that a combat suit could use the same technology.

  His visor told him he had successfully entered the planet’s atmosphere, and now had another two hundred kilometers to go until he made it to the surface. He would free fall most of the way, but his suit would now start making adjustments, steering him to his desired landing coordinates.

  Jon pulled up a tactical display showing the other troopers streaking through the sky toward the surface.

  “Computer, identify Sergeant Kevin St. Clair,” said Jon.

  His display responded by zooming in on one of the icons, a couple kilometers above him. Jon opened a comm. “Enjoying the party so far, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, Sir, Lieutenant. It’s a lot of fun, although I can do without the fireworks.”

  The words, Incoming Weapon Fire, flashed across Jon’s visor, as energy bolts came up from the surface to greet them.

  “The Juttari are still angry with us,” said Jon.

  “They need to le
arn to be more flexible.”

  “I don’t think they’re the social type.”

  Weapon fire continued to streak by, and some troopers were hit. Their suits careened wildly. Jon hoped the damaged suits at least maintained their integrity, and that the soldiers inside could somehow land safely. He knew it was a long shot, but everything was possible in war.

  As Jon neared the surface his thrusters fired, slowing his velocity for a safe landing. No sooner did his boot touch the ground, that he broke into a run. The drop zone was already very hot, and energy bolts flew by in staggering numbers. He raised his weapon to fire back as he ran. Other soldiers were landing all around him and their weapons joined in the melee.

  A soldier keeping pace next to him was cut down by a flurry of energy bolts. Others fell under the barrage of plasma cannon fire.

  Jon ran the gauntlet. Carnage reigned.

  Jon pushed harder, running as fast as his suit would let him.

  He hated the randomness of battle. Each soldier on this mission was highly skilled, yet some lived and others died. Luck of the draw. No matter how hard he fought, it would be lady luck who would decide whether or not he saw his family again. He couldn’t accept that.

  His visor identified suitable cover, a half destroyed low rise building. He raced towards it, energy bolts biting at his heels.

  Reaching the building he took cover behind its walls, as enemy fire pounded the structure. Several troopers had already taken positions in the building, and were actively returning fire. More men piled in, and Jon crouched beside an opening in the wall, trying to get a vantage point.

  The building wouldn’t last long. It already showed signs of impending collapse.

  Jon scanned the enemy positions, and pinpointed the source of much of their problems. A cluster of enemy defenders wreaked havoc with heavy energy weapons, and plasma cannons.

 

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