The woman looked over her shoulder and her eyes went wide when she saw the carnage. The dirt around the creature’s legs receded.
The alien advanced toward her.
Derek shouted, “Behind you!”
The woman whipped her head around.
The enemy blade descended toward her.
A pure black sword met the black blade of the staff in midair. The man who had run into the ship shoved the alien back. The woman scrambled away from her attacker.
The man warded off the alien’s first thrust and a follow-up sweeping blow. The man blocked the next strike aiming for his legs, even as it converted to a decapitating blow.
Back and forth the two fought, parrying and dodging blow after blow. After several exchanges, the man shouted, “The door, open the door!”
Derek blinked. What door did he mean? The door to the docking bay was open.
The woman pointed up. “That door!” she shouted over the din of combat. She pointed toward a control panel on the far side of the bay. “The controls are over there!”
Of course! The overhead door of the docking bay! Derek raced across the docking bay to the manual controls and grabbed the main lever. He yanked it down.
The overhead doors retracted. Sunlight struck the man and alien, their blades still stuck in combat.
A white glow emanated from the man. “Let’s end this,” he said. He lifted his sword high in the air. Light surrounding him flowed through his arm into the black blade he held. The blade turned from black to white. The metal melted, but something kept it contained and in the shape of a blade - a rippling blade of molten metal. Light faded from the man, replaced in whole by the sword.
The alien’s next strike met a wall as if a shield surrounded the man.
The man swung his blade and sliced through the staff. The void shield dissipated like fog in the face of a noonday sun.
He thrust with his sword. Molten metal burned a hole in the enemy’s chest.
The warrior roared in agony. The man dragged the blade straight down. Red fluid gushed out. The creature fell to its knees, dropping the pieces of the staff to the ground. The man beheaded the alien with one final sweep.
He lifted the blade in the air again. The light emanating from the blade flowed upward toward the open door of the docking bay where it melded with the existing sunlight. The blade returned to its solid black form. He thrust it into the ground.
Derek heaved a sigh of relief. It was over. But at what cost? A dozen Marine recruits killed in a matter of minutes. Three more suffered from severe injuries and would need medical attention ASAP.
The man and woman approached.
“Thank you for your aid, young man,” the man said. “I’m sorry you lost so many good Marines.”
Young man? Thought Derek. Up close the man looked no older than nineteen. Who was he to call Derek young? He nodded. “Thanks.”
“Eh, it was nothing. All in a days work, I say. I’ve been preparing for a fight like this all my life.”
Your life of what, not even twenty years? Derek thought to himself. “My name is First Lieutenant Derek Jamison. What are your names?”
“Oh, how rude of us. My name is John, this,” he pointed at the young woman next to him, “is my wife Ashley.”
“Are you merchants? Or smugglers?” Derek asked, wondering why they had not given their last names. Their ship looked like a stock freighter, if a bit old, but the turrets on the top looked like after-market modifications.
“It’s complicated,” John began. “We carry merchandise, so I suppose we’re merchants, but we’re not registered with the Merchant’s Guild. We’re not smugglers,” he said, holding up a hand, “definitely not smugglers.”
Beside John, Ashley rolled her eyes. “Please excuse my husband, he’s addled in his old age. We’re freelance traders. We trade in exotic ancient weaponry.”
“You’re arms dealers?” Derek asked. He moved his finger closer to the trigger of his rifle.
“If you consider selling mage-forged swords, knives and implements of war from some two-thousand-years ago dealing arms, then yes, we’re guilty,” Ashley replied.
Derek flushed. He opened his mouth to apologize but John cut him off.
“I’m not usually the one to say this, but I’m afraid we have to cut the chit-chat short. This whole planet is under siege, Krai’kesh are raining rocks from the bloody sky and ships are falling left and right. I for one would rather be up there than be crushed.” He pointed toward the open sky. “The old girl gives us a fighting chance.”
“What did you say,” Derek asked. “Krai’kesh? Are you saying these are? it can’t be…,” he stopped in disbelief.
“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” John said. He nodded. “They’re the Krai’kesh.” He said it with such calm.
“How do you know?” Sergeant Reiken asked.
“How do I know?” John sputtered. “I was bloody there the first time they attacked humanity! Well, the first time they attacked Tar Ebon anyway.”
Derek paused. John and Ashley. They hadn’t given a last name. He thought of the stories every child learned. The Siege of Tar Ebon, sometimes known as the Battle of the Seven Armies, when the army of the Krai’kesh met the armies of mankind on the field of Pelinor. He remembered the account of the stone constructs, the tornadoes of lightning, the fireballs and … the sword of light. That meant… “You’re John and Ashley Edgerton, aren’t you?” he asked.
John Edgerton nodded, smiled and bowed with a flourish of his hand, like a stage performer. “At your service.”
“Bloody hell,” Sergeant Reiken said, mirroring Derek’s thoughts.
“I apologize,” Derek said, stuttering, “for doubting your word, Eternals.” Is that how someone addressed Eternals, all formal and shit?
“Don’t worry,” Ashley said. “We’re nothing more than long-lived humans with super powers. We’re not that special. I never liked the term ‘Eternals’, but you know how nicknames stick the most when you don’t want them.”
“Yeah, what she said,” John added. “Just call us John and Ashley. None of this ‘Eternal’ business or extra pomp and ceremony.” He cleared his throat. “So, about that increased chance of survival in the skies. Shall we go?”
Derek shook his head and gestured toward the ship. “Yes, yes. Lead the way.”
John and Ashley led the remnants of the Marine platoon into their ship. John and Ashley made their way to the cockpit.
Derek paused. “David, please see that everyone gets settled in. Put the wounded in the sleeping quarters or wherever they’ll be most comfortable and do what you can for them.”
Sergeant Reiken saluted. “Of course, sir.”
Derek followed John and Ashley to the cockpit.
“Welcome to the Dauntless. Have a seat,” John said from the pilot’s seat. “Fastest Class Seven vessel in the galaxy.”
“Which isn’t saying much,” Ashley said.
Derek hid a smile as he took a seat behind John’s pilot chair and strapped in. “I see, sir,” he said.
John flipped a few switches. The engines hummed. Ashley toggled a few more switches. The viewport of the cockpit changed from a view of the docking bay to a map of the surrounding area. A small number of green icons indicating friendlies streaked through the air, while red icons denoted hostile ships. Krai’kesh, Derek reminded himself. Krai’kesh ships.
“Okay, old girl, let’s get you out of this docking bay. Hang on, back there and strap in!” John shouted over his shoulder. He pressed various buttons. The ship jerked as the repulsors activated. It rose and cleared the docking bay. John activated the main engines. The ship sped up, pushing Derek back in his seat.
“What’s the plan?” Derek asked.
“To escape,” John said.
Ashley elbowed him.
“Sorry. We must get beyond the planet’s G-line, its gravity well, before we can shift. Which is about here,” John pointed to a spot projected on the viewport. The spot l
it up as he touched it. Halfway between the planet and its moon, based on their current trajectory.
“Let’s hope we can make it that far,” Ashley muttered.
“I heard that,” John said.
“Just focus on flying, dear. Lieutenant, would you have two of your men man the quad coilgun turrets? I’m afraid we’re about to have company, and I’ve found manned turrets are better than our antiquated targeting computer.”
“Of course,” Derek accessed his platoon neural net. Hamilton, Goyle, take the turrets.
Dual acknowledgments of “yes, sir” came back. Shuffling echoed from the common rear of the freighter.
“Coilgun turrets?” he asked aloud. “That is a rarity.”
“Yeah, us old timers are resistant to change,” John said. “Why back in my day…,”
Ashley elbowed him again.
“Ow. Okay, okay, no up-hill both ways jokes.”
The Dauntless angled toward space at a rapid pace.
“We have company,” Ashley announced. The view screen showed four red markers closing on them. Two from the front, two from behind. The first of the frontal became visible to Derek’s eye.
Four tracer lines from coilgun projectiles fired by the Dauntless converged on a single point some distance from the enemy ship. The enemy ship dodged the second, better aimed, salvo also.
Coilguns aren’t lasers, Hamilton. Lead your target, Derek said over the link. He couldn’t blame him. They likely didn’t train Marines on coilguns these days.
Yes, sir.
The first enemy vessel fired a barrage of six acid-covered rocks, each about half the size of a man’s head.
The Dauntless rose to avoid the projectiles and juked to avoid a second enemy salvo. The evasive maneuvers caused a third flurry from the quad guns to miss.
The enemy fighter flew straight toward them. The fourth coilgun barrage hit home, four high velocity projectiles slamming straight into the enemy fighter’s nose. A slight distortion, like a darkness that obscured the front of the fighter, appeared before the projectiles struck home. The front of the enemy fighter evaporated and the ship broke apart.
Dauntless passed through the wreckage of the enemy fighter. It had an organic appearance, with no smooth surfaces. It looked like coral, or the bark of a tree.
The Dauntless broke free of the planet’s atmosphere and shot into the void of space.
The orbital ring lay in ruins, chunks of it floating through the void, other chunks beginning their descent into orbit, flaring from re-entry into atmosphere. The husks of several Federation ships floated through the void. Such destruction in such a short time? Derek thought.
In the far distance floated large enemy capital ships. They shot out more of the same rocks toward the planet.
“Rear enemies closing,” Ashley announced.
“On it,” the voice of Private Goyle came over the intercom.
Derek could not see the rear of the freighter from where he sat, but he could hear the thump thump of the rear coil turret as it fired into the void. One of the targets closing from behind blinked and disappeared from the view screen.
“Two at once now,” Ashley said.
The remaining enemy fighters converged, from front and rear, on the Dauntless. A quad coil turret fired. The front fighter fired a cluster of projectiles at the same time the rear fighter did.
John activated the bottom repulsors. The ship rose above the line of fire, flying over both clusters of projectiles.
The view screen showed the two enemy icons overlapping as they passed one another, then in unison they turned around to pursue the Dauntless. One cluster of green rocks passed their vessel. The Dauntless jerked. Collision alarms sounded.
“We’re hit!” Ashley shouted.
“Shit,” John said. “They hit the left engine.”
The Dauntless slowed.
“One more hit like that, and we’re sitting ducks,” John said.
“We have bigger problems, dear,” Ashley said. She pulled up a diagram of the ship on the screen. She pointed to the rear engine compartment. “The impact point was here,” a section near the containment wall lit up, “but sensors show the damage is spreading.”
“A fire?” Derek asked.
“No.” Ashley pulled up an image feed of the section. The same green substance seen when the alien threw the projectile earlier in the docking bay was advancing through the rear of the ship at a slow but steady rate.
“Oh, that’s bad,” John said. He paused. “Okay, Ash, can you try to burn that acid crap?”
Ashley nodded. “Let me try.” She unbuckled herself from her seat and strode toward the back of the freighter.
“Lieutenant, take the co-pilot spot.” John said.
“But, I’ve never…”
“It doesn’t matter. I need someone to keep an eye on the sensors for me while I fly. You’re all we’ve got. No offense.”
“None taken,” Derek said as he unbuckled himself and took his seat in the co-pilot chair. No sooner had he strapped himself in, and then the projectile warning indicator appeared. “Two more volleys inbound,” he warned.
John activated the side repulsors. The ship moved to the right. At the same time, he activated the bottom repulsors and the result was a diagonal rise that avoided the strikes. “Any time now, gunners!”
“Got one! Private Goyle shouted. One of the enemy icons on the screen flashed and disappeared.
The turrets continued firing at the last target. Moments later the second icon disappeared from the screen. “Woohoo! We got it!”
“How’s it going back there, Ash?” John asked over the intercom.
“The good news is the acid responds to my fire. It burns. The bad news is the left engine is beyond repair with what I’ve got on hand. We have to make it on one engine.”
“Okay, we’re about five minutes from the G-line. I’m increasing power to the remaining engine. Is the shadow drive still intact?”
“Yeah, I stopped the acid before it reached the containment field.”
“Whew. Head on back up, we’ll…” A flashing on the view screen interrupted John. Dozens of new red contacts appeared on the display. “Well shit,” John finished. “We’ve got a ton of company inbound.”
“They’ll be within firing range in two minutes,” Derek said.
“We won’t make it,” Ashley said, entering the cockpit and swapping seats with Derek. “They’ll tear us to shreds.”
John slowed the ship to a stop and closed his eyes. “There’s one thing we can do. Ashley, you have the helm.”
Ashley shook her head. “No, you’re exhausted from the stunt you pulled in the docking bay. You can’t do more right now.”
“If I don’t, we die,” John said, opening his eyes and staring right at her. “Take the helm.”
Ashley pressed a button on her console and a yoke emerged from the dashboard in front of her. The view screen moved as she took over flight control.
John closed his eyes again. At first nothing happened, but then John glowed. The view outside went dark. Nothing showed outside the viewport. The sensor view screen was blank. John continued to glow. “Move us.”
Ashley obeyed John’s command, applying a trickle of power to the repulsors to lift the ship up in the void and activating the remaining engine at forty percent power to bring the Dauntless forward at a reduced pace.
“What did you do?” Derek asked.
“Bent … light … around … us,” John said with great strain.
“He made us invisible,” Ashley explained. “He wrapped us in a bubble of darkness and caused the light to bend around our position. The enemy will see nothing on their sensors or whatever passes for sensors. But it comes at a high cost.”
“Worth … it,” John retorted.
“Save your strength, dear,” Ashley said, touching his hand.
“How long can he maintain this for?” Derek asked.
“Not long, I’m afraid. We must get to the G-line and j
ump to shadow space before he runs out of energy and falls unconscious. But if we go too fast, we’ll leave visual artifacts such as a shimmer, to announce our location and trajectory.”
“Oh,” Derek said. With their decreased speed the distance indicator now showed over ten minutes to the G-line. Sweat dripped down his back.
“So far, so good,” Derek whispered after several minutes of silence.
“Losing … energy…,” John gasped.
“Hang on. We’re two minutes away,” Ashley tried to encourage John.
“Can’t…,” John’s head flopped forward as he fell unconscious. His seat restraints stopped him from slamming into the dashboard in front of him.
The bubble of darkness disappeared. The lighter blackness of space, sprinkled with stars and other celestial objects in the void, became visible. The view screen returned to life.
The enemy icons, which were in front of the Dauntless, turned toward the new location of the Dauntless as one.
“Almost there,” Ashley said. The timer showed one minute left to the G-line.
Alarms sounded as the enemy fighters came into range.
Derek closed his eyes and listened for the incoming projectile alarms.
Chapter 4 - Surrounded
Kimberly Hague awoke on hard concrete floor. Her head pounded and her ears rang. She blinked blurry eyes as she surveyed her surroundings. Sunlight streamed through cracks and holes in the broken ceiling, while rubble continued to fall. Kimberly’s dress was no longer red, instead taking on a grayish tone from the dust. Rubble pinned her legs and her back hurt. She sat up, leaned forward and moved the rubble, revealing a bloody leg. Her implant reported no broken bones. She wiggled her toes on both feet. Not paralyzed. She crawled to her blaster, which lay a short distance away, replacing it in her thigh holster.
Emergence: Book One of the Dark Tide Trilogy Page 3
