The transport gunship approached the landing zone, its engines deafening. “Delta Team, this is Evac One,” the pilot radioed. “Where is the rest of the squad?”
“This is all that’s left,” Captain Samir said, coming out of the bushes with his remaining team. “We have the package.”
“Roger that.”
They ran toward the dark green ship as the pilot touched down, but Samir slowed his steps a few meters from the gunship, “Walters, keep your eyes open.”
“Sir?”
“The boarding ramp’s still off,” he pointed the forward ramp used for marine deployment. “I don’t like this. You don’t touch down and keep the doors closed in emergency evacuation.” Samir looked around. No one was in sight and it would be impossible to miss a landing gunship for Jackson’s murderer. “Finding Jackson here all by himself doesn’t make sense.”
“Well,” Walters started but his eyes grew wide with the sound of the ramp opening. “Look out!” He pushed Samir aside and threw himself on the ground.
Two Baeal stood in the metal doorframe, staff weapons in hand. They rained fire on the squad, bright blasts of their weapons reflecting in their emotionless, dark eyes. Perkins stood riveted by the towering bald figures and it turned him into target practice. By the time Samir could raise his head, the soldier had at least four blast wounds, one severing his left arm.
Austin was no better; no matter his training, the sight of two hulking aliens had shocked him. He stared at the Baeal with his mouth wide open but Evans pulled him down in time to save him from sharing Perkins’ fate.
“Wake up!” Evans yelled.
The other two marines, Oswald and Jones reacted somewhat better to the ambush and threw themselves behind a nearby rock, returning fire with their pulse rifles.
Sarah took Perkins’ weapon and threw it to Samir, firing her pistol at the aliens at the same time. She was disoriented with all the sand she’d swallowed but her covering fire created room to maneuver for the rest of the team. Samir grabbed the weapon and purely by instinct, rolled to his right when he heard a cracking sound.
Something invisible smashed the rocks where he’d stood a moment ago and four orange balls of light appeared, looking down on the captain with their depthless, burning hunger. Without hesitating, Samir burst his rounds at the blurry shape and watched the orange balls’ light die. A hulking beast appeared out of thin air and lay still on the ground. His life had been saved by a fallen branch giving out under the creature’s weight.
“Die and take your friends with you!” A few meters behind, Sarah shot one of the Baeal in his black eyes, killing him instantly. Taken aback by the death of his comrade and his pet, the other alien hesitated, then fell before Oswald and Jones’ covering fire.
“Quick!” Walters yelled, rushing to the ramp. “He’s trying to take off!” He jumped on board the ship before it rose more than a few meters. Seconds later, a single gunshot was heard and blood splattered the cockpit window. Walters took over the controls, landing the ship again.
“Get us out of here!” Samir ordered, checking on what was left of his men.
Although he had no visible wounds, Austin was in shock and unresponsive. Oswald and Jones were both fine, with only scratches from crawling through the rough terrain, but they looked shaken. Evans was fine, although she looked older than she was. Sarah looked much better than he’d hoped.
“You’re a tough girl, Sarah.”
“I don’t know if I’m terrified or excited. Not feeling anything at the moment.”
“It happens.”
Sarah surely needed medical examination after inhaling so much sand but she was tough, Samir meant it. He checked the backpack, making sure they had the prize, and went back into the cockpit.
“All right.” He patted Walters’ shoulder. “Take us directly to the Deviator. No contact. We only talk to Admiral Conway and Ray’s people.”
“Our orders were to report back to the fleet,” Walters said.
“I’m changing our orders. This is Commander Hawk, the squadron leader of CTC Garrett,” Samir stared down at the dead pilot, then reached for his uniform, revealing the carved symbol of a sword, intersecting an upside down crescent moon. “And that’s the sign of Cosmon Brotherhood.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
HOME: PART II
“Admiral, the first four warheads detonated prematurely,” Lieutenant Jong reported. The man was blinking slower than usual and mumbling more than speaking.
Rebecca nodded, sending the worn-out officer back to his duties. No matter how tired, Lieutenant Jong still performed admirably. Rebecca only wished his sense of duty wouldn’t be in vain.
The fleet had finished cleaning the remaining hostiles shortly after the destruction of the first Baeal fleet but her hopes had died fast when she saw what Ga’an meant by ‘the real enemy’.
So far, the retreat of the Consortium fleet had been smooth mostly because the enemy left them alone, taking its time to move toward Earth. The four nuclear warheads she’d sent to test the enemy mother ship’s defenses turned out to be hopeless; the warheads detonating without a trace on the huge thing’s equally tremendous and powerful deflector shield. Rebecca knew only too well; they had no reason to hurry.
Rebecca looked at Ga’an in admiration. This was the second time the Ancient faced this nightmare and he kept his composure, observing the tactical map and making sound suggestions. He was very much aware of the fate awaiting him and the rest of Earth’s population but he simply refused to give up. Ga’an’s soul was weakened when they had lost Mara’tthane. But now, Rebecca watched the man stand tall, his jaw tight, eyes watching the tactical display like a hawk. Mysterious trinkets and stories were not his game. The battlefield was.
“I envy you Mr. Ga’an,” she said finally.
The tall man glanced at Rebecca without emotion.
“Standing strong against certain death is admirable,” Rebecca continued. “I envy your courage.”
“All death is certain.”
Rebecca smiled weakly. Within a short period of time, she’d started feeling as if Ga’an was part of the Deviator family, forgetting he was an alien to human culture. If someone had hinted to her a few weeks back the possibility of meeting a live Ancient, she would have confined the man to the infirmary for a CT scan.
She moved her attention to the communications operator. “Lieutenant Adams, any news of the additional ships?”
The officer scratched his neck, looking at the newly arrived reports update. “We have another hundred and twenty military craft responding from nearby colonies and installations,” the man read. “Weiner-Johnson Mining is sending all available fuel carriers armed with turrets. With the planetary reserve fleet, we have four hundred and fifty-two capital craft in total.”
Rebecca sighed, “Mining ships.”
“What do they mine?” Ga’an asked over the map desk.
“Mostly niobium,” the lieutenant answered.
“Ship fuel,” Rebecca explained.
“Tell them to send the mining ships with full cargo load,” Ga’an said, scratching his angular chin.
The officer looked at his admiral with suspicion, unsure whether to carry out the orders of a guest but Rebecca waved the man to do it, curious about Ga’an’s idea.
“Hundred and twenty ships with explosives,” he said uncaringly.
“So?” Rebecca asked but realized where the Ancient was going. “Wait, you plan to use them as suicide bombs!”
“I believe Raymond Harris destroyed a city with one ship carrying the same substance,” Ga’an shrugged.
Rebecca couldn’t argue. If the reports were not exaggerated, the worm-like super ship had arrived with over three thousand accompanying capital craft. The enemy’s numbers rendered conventional military strategies ineffective and she was open to any unorthodox ideas at this time.
“All right,” she agreed, “walk me through your idea.”
Ga’an’s plan was simple. He
looked at the assets list provided by the tactical officers and sketched a rough battle plan on the holographic map. Earth and the Moon had orbital defense cannons and missile racks positioned on the surface with sufficient range to handle any smaller craft and the Warrington Military Academy orbiting Earth had defense platforms armed with Kronos missiles—long range anti-capital craft warheads capable of delivering tremendous damage to armor and shields.
“The position of the planet and its moon can be used as poles, luring the enemy between, closer to the cannons so they will be in range.” The alien sketched a wide triangle, placing the Moon and the Earth at each of the base legs. “The fleet can be positioned here as a web,” he placed the fleet marker on top of the triangle. “Surface cannons focus on smaller craft while the platform attacks the enemy capital.”
“Yes, this may work,” Rebecca mumbled to herself, observing the map with narrowed eyes. “The miner ships have small jump drives for safe travel between fields. They cannot cover long distances but we can make them jump into the center of the fleet like ticking bombs.” The plan had a dozen holes they couldn’t address at the moment but it was more than they had a minute ago.
Ga’an nodded. “Then we can hit them with the Kronos SAMs like mines. However,” he said with his indifferent voice, “I suggest you start evacuating your planet.”
“Did I catch pessimism there, Ga’an?”
“It is highly probable we will be dead, Admiral Conway,” he shrugged. “Better to try and preserve the continuity of your species.”
Rebecca nodded. “The Consortium is evacuating the civilians. The order was given while we were occupied near Mars. I suspect Eberhardt and the others are already light years away, enjoying the beach of some tropical planet.”
“Eberhardt?”
“The boss who runs the show with the Consortium.” Rebecca didn’t try to hide her disgust.
“They should be here, fighting for their homes.”
“They are politicians. It is in their nature to save their skin. At the end of the day, politicians live and soldiers die.
“Then they are cowards.” Ga’an walked toward the main screen and again watched the final feed of the long-range probes before the Baeal scouts destroyed the satellites. “In my culture, we find honor in battling to the death. I will find a glorious death.”
Rebecca saw the man’s jaw clench even tighter, a truly rare moment, the uncaring Ancient showing emotion. She thought she understood. Losing all your people and the life you knew, only to fight its eradicators again, seemed harsh.
“Is your Consortium the only representative of your species?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are all humans ruled under the Consortium?”
“No.”
“Then why are no ships coming to aid from the others?”
Rebecca shook her head. “They either have no idea what is going on, or they simply ignore us. They might even hope to see the Consortium crumble so they can take its place.”
“If the Baeal calls this place home, there will not be another power to rule.”
“What can I say, we humans are stupid, Ga’an,” Rebecca sighed. “We better get ready,” she said, and started raining orders to her officers. They were about to prepare for their final stand and they had mere hours before the most important battle in the history of mankind.
The only important battle.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
HOME: PART III
The platform had landed over a dozen Kronos missiles on the Baeal mother ship. The warheads’ blast radius was huge, damaging anything within the explosion’s proximity. So far, the warheads had been unsuccessful in penetrating the alien leviathan’s shields but in the process, they had destroyed three spiders that hadn’t reacted in time to avoid the blast zone.
“Concentrate the artillery on grid five!” Rebecca barked. “Tell Captain Nelson to pull back into position near the Kappa group and change his target to the second spider!”
Rebecca remembered the fireworks her father had taken her to at the annual city fair in New York. She’d watched the dancing lights in the sky, laughing and screaming in joy. From the ground, what she saw now would look like fireworks in space, but this time, someone died onboard the ships with each flare.
As if they weren’t demoralized enough already, the radio buzzed and filled with a deep, mechanical warning siren whenever the Worm fired its main battery; a huge cannon bigger than the size of a dreadnought itself, coming from the mouth of the ship, appearing from the mist to fire and disappear as fast as it emerged. So far, the tech teams hadn’t been able to isolate the signal, no matter what they tried, and it was wearing on the personnel. “It is as if it resonates from within the ship,” the engineer tried to explain. It didn’t matter how; each siren meant they’d lost another ship.
“Patch me to Garrett actual!” Rebecca bellowed with frustration.
“This is Admiral Yun!” The background noise full of yelling and panic was unbearable, almost dimming the admiral’s voice.
“Kim, you have to move back to the third grid,” Rebecca ordered, ignoring formality, “You are blocking our line of fire!”
“Rebecca, we are having problems with the navigation,” the man yelled, his voice interrupted by static, “Someone sabotaged the helm controls!”
“The depths of seven hells!” she cursed under her breath; the very idea of humans helping the aliens to eradicate their own kind disgusted her. Humans had been completely blind all this time to this pest breeding right under their noses. “All right, switch power to weapons and focus on taking down that shield!”
Admiral Yun acknowledged the order and cut the connection. Rebecca looked around the bridge, assessing the damage. The control panel blinked red on decks twenty through twenty-five. The Deviator was powerful enough to resist the enemy’s main cannon with its armor and shield combined but each time it hit, the thing took out a few of the decks. And shield strength. They had already lost over two thousand personnel and sooner or later, it would be over.
“Admiral, another ship has appeared on sensors,” Lieutenant Jong called.
“Lieutenant, you are bleeding badly. You working with one eye less is already troublesome. I cannot risk you blundering at tactical. You are relieved. Let the junior grade take your post.”
“I’m fine, Ma’am. I can hold on.”
“How many morphine shots you have already?”
“None, Ma’am.”
“Are you crazy! Man, you had a rail drilling your face an hour ago!”
“I’m an eye less, Ma’am, but I’m still alive. I’ll fight as long as I can.”
Rebecca looked at her officer in admiration and respect. She nodded and let the man work. The medic on the bridge had patched Jong up but even with proper surgical help, the chance of restoring his vision was low without an implant. In truth, it was a miracle he had survived the trauma and was able to do his job. Rebecca had literally watched the rails hitting his eye at high speed.
“The ship on the sensors, is it friendly?” Rebecca asked, already knowing the answer.
“No ma’am,” the man said, “The signature matches the one we encountered near Pendar.”
The planet-killer had arrived, appearing in the distance. The ship didn’t look as intimidating as it did before, now that Rebecca had seen the Worm but it gave her a real idea about the intentions of the Baeal.
“What is the heading?”
“The Moon.”
“I do not believe they are here to destroy Earth,” Ga’an said, breaking his silence.
“How can you be so sure?” Rebecca asked.
Ga’an observed the map for a while before speaking. “This is a battle formation. The enemy is clashing head on, making their way to the planet. If I wanted to destroy a planet, I would have jumped the planet-killer right on top of it and fired. This strategy does not fit.”
Rebecca nodded. “Invasion?”
“More likely.”
&nbs
p; “But destroying the Moon would alter everything about the planet. Its orbit, the seasons. You name it. It does not make sense.”
“I fought the Baeal for forty cycles, Admiral Conway. I cannot dare say I understand their reasoning or tactics.”
Rebecca sighed. “Well, now would be a good time to figure out what the hell they are up to.”
***
“I can’t see a thing! None of the modes work!”
“Same here, Carter. Fly by instinct and try not to dive into that cloud.”
Easier said than done. The fog covered the huge worm-shaped mother ship, extending several kilometers from the ship’s hull. The dogfighting was intense and sooner or later, they’d had to carry the chase into the dense, black fog. Two times now, Carter had pulled up hard to avoid collision with the worm’s hull. The enemy seemed unaffected by the cloud, flying in and out freely and hunting down the blinded Avengers like confused birds trying to figure out which way was up.
Carter chased a Crab into the fog again, cursing. She was bursting her guns to the point of risking overheating, but she didn’t care. She hit the thing several times and smoke bloomed from its right wing. Still, she needed to deliver a killing blow.
The Crab rolled several times inside the fog, trying to use its own smoke as a shield. Carter admired the tactic but it also gave her the chance to chase its trail. She tried to lock on the enemy fighter but each time she was about to get a clear shot, the Crab changed direction completely, as if it sensed the lock-on signal.
“All right, that did it,” she muttered, turning off the locking computer. “Reading my mind? Read this!” She fired two rockets without setting up a target and turned her locking system back online immediately after sending the warheads. She targeted the nearby one and fired on her own warhead with the Avenger’s guns.
After a few rounds, one of her shots hit the missile and it exploded with a tremendous blast, taking the unsuspecting enemy ship caught in its fire.
She rolled to her left and pulled up, avoiding the debris and allowing herself to breathe. Carter looked into the pilot mirrors and saw a faint yellow dot behind and to her right, breaching the dense fog with its pale beam.
Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1) Page 34
