Star Angel: Dawn of War (Star Angel Book 3)

by David G. McDaniel

  So far nothing had been able to stop it.

  “Team moving down. Gathering at intersection.”

  Eldron watched the schematic overlay.

  “Creature is at major bulkhead nine.”

  Even the most massive internal doors—bulkhead doors!—had been unable to hold it. When it reached the first they assumed that was it. There it would stay. Contained. A danger to be sure, but one for which they would find a way to contend.

  But no. The door didn’t hold. The hard metal slowed the beast, no question, but at length it was able to shatter the lock bars, even the frame around it, sending it crashing through. Worse, once it established that in fact it could break the doors, it was as if it became stronger. Confidence powered it, somehow. The next door and the next smashed quicker.

  And on it came.

  They tried nerve toxin. No effect. Vacuum was useless. Whether the thing needed atmosphere or not, they knew it didn’t need it long enough to matter. Wave after wave of response team assaulted it in the narrow passageways, attempting to kill it as it made its way relentlessly upward, weaving through the ship, looking for what it sought. They may as well have been trying to halt a force of nature. It passed through each wave easily; not even their most powerful weapons had an effect. Anything larger—if even those weapons would’ve worked—was too much to use within the confines of the ship itself.

  Now this latest gambit. Perhaps, just maybe, they could lure it to another lock and blow it back into space. Pull about and fire on it with the cruiser’s giant plasma cannons. Hit it with atomic warheads. Anything to destroy it. Or, failing that, just let it float like an asteroid, forever if they were lucky. And God help the next world it fell upon.

  And so Eldron concentrated silently. Hoping. Wishing his team success in their sacrifice.

  The alternative, if they failed, was grim. He could not unleash this unholy terror on his world. If they could not rid themselves of it, they would set the cruiser adrift. Destroy all controls and send it floating forever into the cold depths of space.

  An eternal coffin for the abomination.

  * *

  Lindin listened patiently as their military liaison briefed him and a small group of officials in the command center. The room buzzed with conversations, isolated pockets of activity as the staff monitored the conflict to the south. There weren’t many actual tasks to be carried out—all tactical command was being handled directly from the battlefield, the mountain complex in existence for an entirely different purpose—which brought a certain disconnected sense of intensity as all watched the critical outcomes unfolding.

  All Lindin could think about was the Icon.

  Before returning to the command center he’d taken the remaining Icon back to his office and secured it. In a lockbox, in his own personal safe, where nothing short of an assault with advanced tools or explosives would break it free.

  Of course part of him fretted at the idea of Satori and the girl returning unseen. Taking a crack at it. Somehow, learning where he’d put it and making a bid for it. By now he would not put it past them.

  There were far too many things standing in their way but, for some reason, the comfort of that did little to calm him. Though he knew them getting the other Icon was ridiculously improbable, for many reasons, he had a hard time with the impulse to go stand by the lockbox and watch it until he had both of them in sight. But he refused to go that far. The two of them were not enemy commandos with an agenda. Just one simple girl who had a habit of ending up in the wrong place at the right time and, of course, a knack for getting people to do the most unexpected things. Case in point: Satori. Jessica had convinced his commander to break more than a few rules. And so, when they did turn up, they would be brought directly to him. Those were his orders.

  The liaison giving the briefing was indicating the Dominion had managed to hold, deep in Midbay, but that their position was untenable. Venatres forces were being directed from locations to the west and would sweep them from the city, reclaiming it.

  There was much anticipation in the air. The Dominion advance was ill-advised, by any standard, and now they would pay. With the loss of their new “Emperor”, Kang, and the rest of the losses in their upper ranks as a result of Kang’s brief reign (rampage was more like it), the Dominion was about to suffer a collapse. Perhaps fatal. They had never fully recovered from the incidents at the Crucible, and now this.

  For an instant Lindin had the unsettling conclusion that, in a strange way, credit for the fall of the Dominion might be given to the girl. Jessica. His very nemesis, in a sense, yet her actions had directly driven the destruction of the Dominion stronghold, the Crucible, setting in motion events leading to now. And now, less than an hour ago, she’d provided the means to get rid of Kang.

  The truth of it was hard to ignore. The way it might be perceived even harder. She brought down the Crucible. And, with it, the entire upper hierarchy of the Dominion. Then, when Kang showed up, the beast quickly got rid of the rest of the clerics and …

  Jessica got rid of him.

  Lindin had, again, the unsettling yet sincere worry the girl from Earth would be seen as a hero.

  He had to be careful the way he handled her.

  “Sir,” the voice of one of his officers got through. Josef. The drone of the liaison was interrupted and now Josef came from the background, inserting himself into the conversation. Lindin looked to him.

  “Yes?”

  Josef shifted anxiously. “We just got word. The girl and Commander Satori have returned.”

  Immediately Lindin was on alert. Here we go. Time to get them where he could keep an eye on them.

  “Are they arriving at the hangar?”

  “They left the hangar.”

  Left the hangar? Images of the feared commando assault came flooding to mind. Lindin started for the door without thinking, then pulled up short, trying not to give in to that irrational impulse.

  “You mean they arrived? They’ve already arrived? Are they being brought here?” Those were my orders. They were to be brought to him.

  “They claimed you called them, and that they were on their way to see you, as requested. They got by the guards.” Josef was nervous. “We think they may be headed for the lab.”

  Lindin blinked. Shock then anger passed through him in rapid succession, leaving him stunned. He felt his innards churn.

  His mouth worked a moment.

  “… The lab?”

  Josef nodded. “We’ve lost contact with units there.”

  Lindin’s mind was racing, alternating between relief and concern. There was nothing in the lab for them to get. He’d already removed and secured the other Icon and it wasn’t anywhere near the lab so if they were heading to the lab there was nothing to fear. All was safe. They were on a cold trail. Probably they were going for the other Icon, which made him wish he’d been wrong in his suspicions, but they wouldn’t find it. Not there. So why was he afraid? What gnawed at him?

  Amid the chaos of the battle and all else it wasn’t impossible to imagine they slipped back undetected, but he was alarmed they’d gotten past the guards. Did they truly dupe them? Did they overpower them? And if they’d lost contact with the lab …

  It was one thing to steal, quite another to injure. If so, if they had assaulted guards, then they’d now crossed a line. Would that make it easier to punish them?

  But all those questions fell suddenly away.

  And the gnawing fear crystallized.

  Now he felt sick.

  And with a harried call for all guards, voice rising in pitch, calling for every guard in the place, to meet him at the lab, now and without delay, he shoved everyone aside and was off at a full sprint.

  The starship was in there.

  * *

  “Don’t make us do anything,” Jess cautioned, working to keep the tremor out of her voice. “We’re not criminals. You have to believe that.” Now that Warrior Jess had done her part, helping Satori take the guards’
guns and hold them hostage, the teenager in her wanted to set things right. It wasn’t the best impulse to honor at the moment, she realized, but she couldn’t resist the urge to explain. “I don’t want anything to happen. To anyone. Don’t do anything that would make anyone get hurt.

  “Okay?”

  The guards didn’t respond, but she saw their reluctant expressions at her plea. Perhaps they wouldn’t try anything.

  And suddenly … a reality check. We’re holding guns on people, she couldn’t help staring down at the deadly machine-pistol in her hands. About to steal a starship! The behemoth loomed in her peripheral vision and, despite her best efforts, she found herself looking slightly in its direction.

  How the hell are we supposed to steal that? It had never been flown, it was barely understood—so massive!—it was priceless, it was in the middle of a mountain that, until then, she only assumed had a way out. That she’d gotten Satori and Willet to come this far, in that instant, terrified her. This was huge. It was sensational.

  What have I done?

  It could turn out there was no way to fly the ship. Maybe it needed weeks of prep. Maybe it needed all kinds of authorization codes. Nani might be unwilling to help. What if Nani’s not even here?! And what about Bianca? Could she leave without her?

  Far too much had been assumed.

  And it was about to fail miserably.

  Jail was now a certainty.

  “Let’s go,” Satori waved her gun, indicating the guards should start walking. She motioned them toward the fore of the craft. That was where the work stations were. Where Nani would be, if she hadn’t left. Jess looked up. Way up, and the sheer scale of the setting washed over her. The cavern was so big, the air seemed to have a breeze at all times, temperature differentials at differing heights causing natural circulation. It was a yawning openness, like the inside of a giant football stadium, filled nearly to capacity with the bulk of the giant starship itself.

  She had to deliberately make herself not think about it.

  There was no going back now.

  So far the startling comprehension of the magnitude of what they were about to do was not, seemingly, hitting Satori. At least if it was it didn’t show. Maybe all her resistance came earlier. Maybe she’d gotten her arguments out of her system. And as Jess realized this she also realized why. It was because Satori had, by even deciding to do this, invested full confidence in her. Whether from her adamant insistence, her own personal, unwavering determination, her past success or something else, Satori, having finally relented, now expected Jess had matters well in hand. Having decided to follow her Satori’s own doubts had been put on hold.

  Now it was up to her.

  No pressure.

  “Jessica!” Bianca called from somewhere up ahead. Jess found her and her spirits lifted, briefly. Bianca! You’re here! Her friend stood in the distance, near Nani—Nani’s here!—along with a small group of lab technicians. Yes!

  She wouldn’t have to leave her after all.

  As soon as Bianca saw the guns, however, her expression went slack. So did most of the others.

  Nani put a hand to her mouth.

  Bianca’s voice dropped in timbre. “Jessica, what’s going on?”

  Jess hated the extent of the mess she’d dragged her friend into.

  And it was about to get worse.

  “It’s not as bad as it seems,” she lied, noting the guards at the end of their guns looked back and forth between her and Satori. She didn’t think the two soldiers would try anything, but she caught her attention wavering and made sure not to let it lapse. The next minutes were going to be the most difficult, and she didn’t want the tables turned because she was getting emotional with her friend. More than anything she didn’t want to pull any triggers.

  “Oh no,” she heard Nani mutter through her fingers. “No,” the blonde scientist looked behind her, as if searching for a place to run. Realizing, of course, there was nowhere to go.

  I know that feeling.

  Jess and her small group drew up on the work area where a standoff ensued; the handful of lab-coated technicians in various states of fear, Bianca looking to the terrified Nani—even as she fought her own fear; facing across from the two guards tasked with preventing entry, their protectors, now with their hands up at gunpoint. At gunpoint with guns being held by their friends.

  It was a terrifying, shocking, confusing moment.

  Willet stood off to the side, still looking like he was along for the ride. In fact, to Jess it seemed he was almost curious to see what would happen next.

  Satori spoke. “A bunch more guys with guns are probably on their way. We need to keep moving.”

  Nani actually whimpered. She lowered her hand. “Lindin was just down here,” she managed. Now she looked directly at Bianca, and Jess found it interesting—a misplaced regard in that moment—that Bianca seemed to be a point of comfort for Nani. Bianca, who had absolutely fallen apart during the first half of their journey, seemed now to be a source of strength. At least for Nani.

  Jess was glad for it. Because for what came next they would need all the strength they could get.

  Satori was all business. Young though she was, here was a seasoned field commander, one who had risen to rank for good reason. “We don’t have much time,” she informed them. “We need to move.” She turned her attention to the starship, eyes roving up and down its great length—even as she kept the guards at a safe distance. Jess shuddered at the presence of the craft. More, at the thought they were about to go aboard.

  “Nani,” Satori held her gaze, as one might hold the attention of a frightened child, “how do we fly this thing?”

  The guards’ mouths fell open. So did the mouths of all the technicians within earshot. Nani spluttered, a what?! expression crawling across her face. She jerked her head involuntarily, to look at the ship, then back; flipping that wide-eyed, piercing stare between the ship, Satori and Jess.

  Absolutely frozen in fear.

  Bianca locked eyes with Jessica. Friend to friend. It was as if, for an instant, the rest of the scene, the rest of the players, melted away—for the briefest of moments—and Bianca stood only with her. Just the two of them. Long-time besties. Fellow high-schoolers. Only girls from Boise in the room.

  I need you. Jess hoped her friend would stay strong.

  “What are we doing?” Bianca’s voice quavered.

  “We came for the ship,” Jess told her. Then, in what felt like an impossible oversimplification but which summarized the moment: “It’s the only way.”

  Nani shook her head. “No, no, no. What are you saying? Take this? Oh, no. If we do that …

  “They’ll never let us out.”

  “You’re their best and brightest,” Jess thought of ways to reassure her, finding few. “They won’t lock you away. Us, maybe. Not you. We’re the ones making you do this.”

  Satori had little time for further discussion. “It won’t matter,” she said, continuing to eye the ship. “If we don’t do something quick this little escapade will be over before it begins.”

  CHAPTER 6: A NEW TOY

  Kang pulled with both hands, hard, exerting a good bit of his full strength to peel back the thick metal of the alien bulkhead. Whatever this machine was made of it was superior to the materials of Anitra. The alien metal was proving difficult to make his way through and, in fact, at first he hadn’t been sure he could. After decimating the “greeting” party he’d turned his attention to finding the control center and whomever was in charge, but when they locked the first, massively thick door it nearly thwarted him. Only as he applied more and more force did he finally break through—truly straining; heaving, and as he’d stepped through into the hallway beyond found himself wondering how far he might have to go.

  Of course each successive door had been locked. Making his progress slow. But success after several doors built confidence; showed him weak points, taught him where to punch through, where to grip, where to pull. And so yet
another door bent toward him and down, enough to allow him to pass. He moved along now with an economy of motion, ever upward, looking for the heart of this vessel so he could command it.

  At the last major intersection another assault team had attempted to lure him away. Presumably to blow him into space. He’d killed them like all the rest. Their weapons, their tactics—none of it was proving a match for his strength and his resolve. Already he’d killed dozens of the aliens and would kill as many more as necessary. The reasonable part of him, if such still existed, cautioned against a full massacre, as only the aliens understood how to work this thing, and he knew at some point he must pause to consider that. Enough must be left alive when he was done to follow his lead, to work the mighty vessel at his direction. Looking at the size and complexity of it he was sure he could never run it alone.

  At the thought of that a deep, maniacal laugh escaped him, reverberating down the green metal hallway.

  It was like a maze. He’d been trying to make sense of any part of it, to find clues that might lead him to what he sought, but so far no luck. Angrily he scratched at his arms, still irritated from whatever toxin they’d released.

  Just another effort to stop him that failed.

  Next up was another intersection. He strode into it and stopped, checking left and right. There, to the left, toward the interior of the ship, were as many of the alien warriors as could fit in the hall, waiting; manning at least three large cannons mounted on tripods. He took all this in just as the barrage hit him.

  CRACK! the electric beams enveloped him. CRACK! CRACK! Brilliant blue lightning at the edges of his vision. They hurt, but did not have the push of the plasma used by the Dominion, or even the impact of the projectiles used by the Venatres. Both weapon types failed miserably against the Kazerai, but at least had kinetic energy that tended to drive them back, delaying the attack of the super warriors if nothing else. These alien weapons transferred a far more painful blast—especially the big ones being used on Kang now—but had relatively no inertia.