Shattered Dawn (The Eternal Frontier Book 3)

by Anthony J Melchiorri

“Probably a good call,” Tag said. “Just in case, I’ll have Alpha prep a few painkillers.”

  Sumo looked at him with a hint of surprise. “Really? If the officers on the Montenegro caught us drinking, they’d hang us out to dry.”

  “I trust Bull will take care of that for me,” Tag said. As long as they were around to do their jobs when the time came, what they did in their moments off didn’t concern him so much. Might as well relish it while they could. The dark clouds he had been trying to ignore seemed to be rapidly forming a funnel cloud, precipitating into a tornado of pessimism. Whatever madness they found themselves in on the other side of their hyperspace jump, he didn’t mind if the marines spent the moments of this last calm before the storm enjoying themselves.

  “Something bothering you?” Bull asked. “Not usual for you to drop in and join us for a Turbo match.”

  Tag opened his mouth to respond when Gorenado and Lonestar jumped up in unison, yelling victoriously about something that had happened on the viewscreen. They hugged each other as Sumo’s expression grew dour. Once they’d settled into their seats again, Tag turned back to Bull.

  “Nothing in particular,” Tag said. “Just revisiting my old friend insomnia.”

  “Good friend of mine, too.” For the first time, Tag noticed the dark bags hanging under Bull’s eyes, offset by the smattering of boyish freckles that contrasted with his muscled frame.

  “Does it worry you to think what we might find on the other side?” Tag asked.

  “Maybe a little bit,” Bull said. “Dreg, Melarrey, Mechanics, Drone-Mechs, Forinth, ice gods. I’ve had enough surprises for a goddamned career and it’s only been a few months since we set sail from the Montenegro.” He spoke in a hushed voice, leaning across the table as the other marines argued about MVP picks for the ongoing Turbo match. “Whatever is waiting for us, we’re ready. I promise you that.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Tag said, but he wasn’t sure he meant it. The marine’s stare remained fixed and sincere as if he was waiting for something. He realized Bull wasn’t looking to Tag for a technical assessment of their chances of success. Rather, he wanted to see that same confidence radiating from the captain of this ship, the leader of the mission he and his squad had been assigned to.

  In the lab, it was acceptable—even encouraged—for Tag to express his doubts about their experiments and research. That was how science worked, how intelligent conversations started. But as captain of the Argo, sharing too many of those doubts depleted the crew’s morale.

  The marines weren’t stupid. He knew that much from his short time spent with them. What they wanted now, what they didn’t talk about, was assurance that they were doing the right thing. That they were being led against seemingly insurmountable odds by a captain who believed in his crew and their mission.

  That success might even be a thing they could achieve, however unlikely their gut told them it was. And right now, Tag was supposed to be that person.

  He forced a grin and grabbed one of the empty cups on the table. “Lonestar, fill me up.”

  She gave him a nonplussed look before he gestured to the cup, and she obliged, pulling a bottle from beside her chair.

  “I propose a toast,” Tag said, holding the cup. He could already taste the unforgiving drink, its aroma practically burning his nostrils. “To the best goddamned marines in the SRE navy.”

  “Here, here,” Sumo said.

  “Yippee-cay-yay,” Lonestar said in an exaggerated ancient Texas accent.

  Gorenado growled in agreement. They all turned to Bull. At first, he held up his hands in a defensive gesture, but it didn’t take him long to relent.

  “As the sergeant would say,” Tag said, glancing at Bull, “when we transition, whatever monsters we meet, let’s kick some xeno ass!”

  The marines cheered, and even Bull offered a half grin as they clinked their cups together and then drank. Tag’s throat lit up in flames as the gutfire drizzled into his gullet, and a sheet of water formed over his eyes as he did his best not to cough. It had been ages since he’d touched the stuff, and now he remembered why.

  But when Sumo clapped his back, wrapping a hand around his shoulder and hooting with laughter, he joined in. The alcohol burned away the tendrils of worry that had taken root in his mind. He knew they would be back later, but at least for now, he was thankful for the momentary reprieve.

  Maybe he’d even find some solace in sleep.

  He pushed himself up from the table, and Sumo gave him a disappointed look.

  “You leaving us so soon, Captain?” she asked.

  Tag nodded. “Like Bull said, tomorrow’s an early morning, and I’ll leave the hangovers to you all.”

  He strode to the hatch, feeling the warmth of the gutfire in his stomach, already hinting at the regret he might feel later. But for now, as he looked back at the marines, even Bull seemed to be sitting up straighter, joining in with the cheers and groans of disappointment as the Turbo game continued. It was against protocol for a captain to share a drink with his subordinates, especially while on a mission. But gods be damned, he couldn’t help but feel proud of the difference that small gesture had made to the marines.

  As he walked back to his quarters, the old same he’d had since he first stepped aboard the Argo as the Chief Medical Officer, something scratched at the back of his skull.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  It wasn’t that he’d ignored SRE protocols and had a drink; three hells, Captain Weber had been known to throw back a glass of gutfire or two with the crew.

  No, there was something else. And as he entered his cabin, his eyes roving over the desk in one corner and the tidy bed in another, he realized what that was. He had assumed the role of captain after being promoted by Admiral Doran and had initiated this mission into the unknown. He was playing the part of captain—but that was just it. Up until now, he’d been playing the part.

  He needed to own it. To become what he had tried to be for the marines tonight. The lynchpin holding this crew together, the keystone of the Argo’s leadership.

  Playing the part was no longer going to be enough. He needed to be the part. That meant thinking like Captain Weber had and studying what he had planned for the Argo before his untimely end.

  Instead of settling in for sleep, Tag resolved that tomorrow would be a new dawn for his stewardship over the Argo and its crew. He left his familiar quarters and climbed the ladders toward another, larger cabin that had been vacant since the Drone-Mechs’ first attack on the Argo.

  It was time for Tag to finally acknowledge his role on the ship, to finally accept that the ghosts of the past did not determine the threads of their future. He was the captain now.

  He stepped into the cabin.

  His cabin.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tag tightened the straps on his crash couch and buckled into the captain’s station for their imminent transition into normal space. Alpha situated herself in ops, preparing the holomap for when they reached their destination, and Sofia cracked her knuckles at the pilot controls. Coren warmed the weapon systems with a few taps on his terminal.

  “All systems prepped?” Tag asked his crew.

  “Energy shields and navigation systems online, ready for deployment,” Alpha said.

  “Ready to fly this bad boy like our lives depend on it,” Sofia said.

  “Good, because they do,” Tag responded.

  “Weapons are fully loaded and countermeasures are prepared should they be required,” Coren said.

  “Excellent.” Tag glanced at the viewscreen. Through the sheets of crackling plasma, he could see the Crucible gliding on one side and the Stalwart on the other.

  “Bracken, Jaroon, ready for transition?”

  “We’re ready,” Jaroon called back through the comms.

  “Affirmative,” Bracken said.

  “Initiate transition,” Tag said. He felt the familiar brace of momentum yanking at his insides, pushing him forward against
his restraints even as the ship put on its gravitational deforming “brakes.” The inertial dampeners caught up and relieved him from the temporary nausea grappling with his guts.

  He expected to see the usual quilt of sporadic spots of light betraying the distant location of the stars as the plasma gave way to the silent void of dark space. Instead his stomach plummeted when he saw the enormous asteroid careening straight toward the viewscreen.

  “Sofia!” he managed to shout.

  “On it!” She pulled hard on the controls, and the Argo veered out of the path of the asteroid. But they weren’t safe yet.

  All around, huge gobs of rock and ice tumbled through space, some as small as a wrist terminal, others as large as a Mechanic skyriser. An asteroid no bigger than an air car slammed into another roughly the size of the Argo, and shards of the larger asteroid split off, shedding ice and minerals in a cloudy shower.

  “Shields up,” Tag said. “Get us the hell out of this asteroid belt.”

  Alpha tapped on her terminal, and the green glow of the energy shields shimmered as they went up, then disappeared when they stabilized. Sofia rocked the Argo side-to-side, looking for a way to escape between the silent, deadly giants in their path. Tinier asteroids pinged against the Argo. The impacts resonated through the ship like the sounds of a violent hailstorm.

  “Captain!” Bull called from below deck. “Are we under attack?”

  “Asteroids,” was all Tag offered as a response. “Bracken, Jaroon, what’s your situation?”

  “Caught in the asteroid field,” Jaroon reported back.

  “This is what happens when we trust human technology,” Bracken said drolly. “We, too, are trying to find our way out of this mess.”

  All across the holomap, ropes of asteroids streamed in glaring red dots. Tag peered at the viewscreen to locate the Crucible and the Stalwart amid the rocky chaos.

  “Alpha, find us the nearest escape trajectory,” Tag said.

  “Yes, Captain,” she said calmly.

  Something slammed against the energy shields, and the viewscreen burned with a brilliant glow as the asteroid melted, smaller chunks peppering the hull.

  “I believe we are at risk of a hull breach if we collide with more asteroids like that,” Alpha said.

  Before Tag could respond, Sofia snapped, “I know that, Alpha, which is why I’m trying to avoid the damned things!”

  “I’m highlighting the best route now,” Alpha said.

  A trajectory appeared on the holomap that traced waypoints between the mass of red dots. The same images appeared on Sofia’s holoscreen.

  “You good with that, Sofia?” Tag asked.

  “I’ll have to be.”

  Another echoing roar shook the bulkhead as an asteroid collided with their starboard side. It rattled Tag’s teeth, and his fingers curled around the ends of his armrest. He could sense the frustration building up in Sofia, radiating off her like a thermonuclear warhead, and he didn’t bother issuing any more commands. He trusted her to know best how to fly this damn ship through the insane obstacles ahead of them, but even so, he was worried her skills as a pilot wouldn’t be enough.

  “Coren,” Tag said, “activate the point-defense-cannons. I want any large asteroids headed our way shredded before they hit us.”

  “Of course,” Coren said. His fingers danced across his terminal, and strands of pearly orange fire lanced into the nearest asteroids, blasting through them like a mag train through a snow bank. The asteroids were reduced to pebbles as Sofia jockeyed the ship, but she was unable to completely avoid the smaller rocks, which burned up in the energy shields.

  “Captain Brewer,” Bracken called over the comms. “Aren’t you afraid too much fire will attract the attention of any Drone-masters or Drone-Mechs in the area?”

  She sounded like a mother chiding an insolent child, and her tone grated on Tag’s already frayed nerves as another storm of debris pelted their hull. “Doesn’t matter whether they see us or not if we don’t make it out of here alive, does it?”

  “This is true,” Jaroon said. “We too are having a hard time evading all the incoming asteroids.”

  Translucent bubbles jetted from the Crucible’s strange weapons, accumulating and expanding around asteroids, crushing them until they were nothing but space dust.

  “Fine,” Bracken said. Orange pulsefire lanced from her ship to impale a skyriser-sized asteroid. The impact shredded a hole through the middle of it, and the Stalwart passed through the freshly made tunnel before turning its cannons on another target.

  The asteroids seemed be swarming more aggressively than a squadron of Drone-Mech fighters. Sweat coursed down Tag’s forehead, dripping into his eyes. He wanted to wipe the beads of sweat away, but he couldn’t risk removing his EVA suit’s helmet just in case something went wrong and they lost atmosphere on the bridge.

  Then an enormous asteroid damn-near the size of the entire city of Deep Origin loomed in their path. Cannon fire and pulse rounds from the Stalwart joined the odd bubble cannons of the Melarrey ship, but their fire left nothing but craters on the asteroid’s surface.

  “We’ve got to get around that thing!” Tag said.

  Even as the words tumbled from his mouth, he saw the tidal wave of other asteroids crashing toward them, descending in a maelstrom of ship-crushing sizes, blocking their routes of escape. There was no running. He briefly considered trying to perform a hyperspace transition, but it was too risky. As gravity shifted around them, the effects of their T-drive would be overwhelmed by the influx of nearby mass, leaving them and the asteroids equally crushed.

  “Should I use torpedoes, Captain?” Coren asked, his normally level voice pitched with a hint of nervousness.

  Tag hated to expend the torpedoes on a target like this. For one thing, the asteroid would probably shatter into smaller but equally deadly fragments. And even if they survived, they might later find themselves in desperate need of those weapons when they confronted the Drone-masters. Going up against unknown enemies with their ordnance already partially depleted wasn’t optimal—but neither was being smashed to bits before you could face them.

  “Bracken, Jaroon, one of you please tell me you can do something about this damn thing.”

  Bubbles still jutted from the Crucible, and glaring orange beams cut through space from the Stalwart.

  “Torpedoes?” Bracken asked. She, like Tag, sounded unconvinced that it was their best option.

  “I think I have an idea,” Jaroon said. “I will need your ships to follow very closely behind mine. Close enough that you can feel the heat from our impellers.”

  “You heard him,” Tag said to Sofia.

  She pulled back on the controls, and the Argo fell in behind the Crucible. The Stalwart disappeared from their periphery, weapons still firing on the asteroids, and Tag watched on the holomap as the blip representing the Stalwart cinched up to their stern.

  “Now I’ll need you to trust me,” Jaroon said. “Full thrust ahead!”

  The Crucible accelerated, glowing a brighter blue as it careened toward the asteroid’s surface. Tag barely had time to unclench his jaw, bracing for what seemed to be an inevitable impact, as Sofia took the Argo straight after him with the Stalwart close in their wake. There was no time to ask Jaroon what he had planned as the asteroids around them began colliding. The violent shockwaves would have torn apart the ship if they weren’t in vacuum. There was only time to pray the jellyfish-like alien knew what he was doing.

  Tag tried to gulp, finding it difficult to even swallow as they accelerated toward the murky brown surface of the asteroid. The white patches of ice on it expanded until they clotted his view, and he choked on a scream right before it seemed they would crash into one. The Crucible hit first, and a blinding flash of blue light overwhelmed the viewscreen.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The flashes of blue light settled. Tag’s stomach did not.

  He had expected to see a tunnel drilled through the center of the aster
oid, leading them to the other side, taking them to safety. There was no tunnel, yet at the same time, according to the holomap, they were inside the asteroid.

  “What in the three hells?” Sofia asked. She leaned over the controls.

  All around them, the rock seemed to shimmer and give way as if they were traveling through fluid rather than an enormous chunk of minerals and metals. Sofia kept the Argo close to the Crucible, and the Stalwart remained right on their tail. Everything in the viewscreen reflected a faint blue glow, reminiscent of the sapphire alloy encompassing Jaroon’s ship.

  “This is...this is amazing,” Coren managed, his working eye wide.

  “Jaroon,” Tag called over the comms. “What did you do?”

  “I’ve extended our ship’s energy shields to encompass yours and Bracken’s,” Jaroon said.

  Alpha cocked her head in a quizzical manner, and Tag asked the question that was no doubt on her synth-bio mind.

  “How exactly does that work? Our shields couldn’t drill through rock like this.”

  Jaroon emitted a burbling noise that must’ve been a Melarrey laugh. “We are not drilling through the rock. Our shields work slightly differently than yours. Instead of absorbing and dispersing energy, they proactively emit energy to alter the state of matter. We’re effectively liquefying the asteroid around us, but we’re using an enormous amount of power to do that. We won’t be able to sustain this field for very long, and the rock outside of the field quickly solidifies.”

  “So if Sofia doesn’t keep us close to you,” Tag said, “we’ll get stuck in the rock.”

  “And likely crushed,” Jaroon said. “So as I mentioned before, please stay close.”

  Sofia hunched over her station. “You got it.”

  Soon the Crucible slipped out of the asteroid, followed shortly by the Argo and Stalwart. The asteroid solidified again with no hole or crater to evidence their journey through the thing. Tag heard his crew breathe a collective sigh of relief as they sailed once again in open space, with only a few lingering asteroids to contend with.

  “Captain,” Alpha said, “we should be approaching Captain Weber’s prescribed coordinates shortly.”