by Brian Dorsey
Martin carefully scanned the onrush of terrified patients and employees as she looked for threats. A frightened nurse stumbled and fell in front of her. Without looking at her, Martin grabbed the nurse with her left hand.
“Get out of the way!” she grumbled, as she yanked the trembling nurse behind her.
Making the last turn to her father’s room, Martin saw a constable step out of her father’s room. She pulled the trigger, and the impact lifted the constable into the air and twisted him back into the room.
Her heart raced as she rushed to the door and pivoted into the room, rifle at the ready.
On the floor lay a constable with her father’s Praetorian sword embedded in his chest.
“Father!” she shouted frantically. “Father!”
She heard a groan to her right and spun to see her father lying on the floor beside his overturned leather chair. Her rifle hit the floor as she rushed to father’s side.
Kneeling beside her father, Martin looked for injuries. His chest and stomach were bleeding from several wounds.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she mumbled as she tried to apply pressure to the wounds, but there were too many…blood seeped everywhere. “It’s okay,” she said again as she reached for the medical pack on her vest.
“Stop,” replied her father in a weak voice as he reached for her hand.
“I can fix this,” she pleaded as tears clouded her vision.
“Stop!” he replied, mustering enough strength to speak in that booming, powerful tone she had known as a child.
The volume of his voice startled Martin, and she dropped the neuro-med she had in her hand.
“But—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted as the volume of his voice quickly trailed off to barely more than a whisper. “Don’t waste that on me. You’ll need it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you on time,” she sobbed.
She felt his hand weakly grip her forearm.
“This is a good day for me,” he said in a weak, raspy voice. “I will die with the smell of gunpowder in the air, blood flowing from my body, and my blade in my enemy.” Despite his weakening voice, his eyes burned bright with the fury of warrior.
Martin knew her father; this is how he would want to die. And the way she would want to, as well.
“They came to arrest you for what I have done,” said Martin. “No matter what you heard from them—”
“I know…” He coughed. “…Everything.”
“What?” exhaled a dumbfounded Martin.
“The Xen and the First Families…the secret of the war,” he continued.
“But—” He had known the whole time? Martin’s head raced and she felt sick. Then the truth she had been subconsciously avoiding hit her like a brick—he was the head of the ProConsul’s personal guard; how could he not know?
“I am sorry for deceiving you.” His voiced was now a whisper, forcing her to lean in close to him. “And I was too weak, no, too frightened to do anything about it. So I served, like I always had, and hoped that service would be enough. But when the constables came…” Another violent cough shook his entire body. “…And they said you had committed treason, I knew you were doing what I could not. You can right my wrongs, your family’s wrongs…everything.”
Martin could not find the words.
“Don’t hate me for my weakness,” he mouthed as his hand released hers and fell to the floor.
She stared into the face of the man she had lived her life to please as he breathed his last breath. In his final words, he had both confessed his greatest sin and laid the freedom of her entire people on her shoulders.
“I’ll make it right,” she whispered into his ear as her tears fell upon his cheek.
“Don’t move!” boomed a voice from behind her.
Martin raised slightly and looked through her tears into the reflection of the window in front of her. Behind her stood three Praetorians. One stepped toward her, pistol in hand.
Her vision focused and her muscles tightened as a clarity she had never felt before washed over her.
“The ProConsul sends her regards to you and your father,” mocked the Praetorian as Martin felt the hard metal of the pistol’s barrel against the back of her head.
In the blink of an eye it was over.
Martin spun to her left, simultaneously deflecting the Praetorian’s pistol as it fired and removing her would-be assassin’s head with her sword. Her movement carried her toward the second Praetorian, whom she impaled against the wall on her sword. Martin’s path was set. Unaware the round from the third Praetorian had torn into her arm, she again pivoted and stepped toward the last attacker. Grasping the Praetorian’s gun hand, she twisted the Praetorian’s weapon toward the floor as she drew her pistol, placed the barrel under his chin, and fired.
The sound of gunfire faded and was replaced by the moans of the Praetorian pinned to the wall by Martin’s sword.
She slowly turned and holstered her pistol as she walked over to the impaled Praetorian.
As she neared him, he reached for his pistol.
Martin mechanically grabbed his right hand and extended his arm parallel to the floor.
Staring into the man’s eyes, she drew one of the knives from her vest and drove it into the Praetorian’s right hand.
He let out a scream. “You will rot in Capro, traitor!” he spat as blood began to fill his mouth.
“Where is Astra Varus?” she asked.
“Traitor,” he replied, spitting blood into her face.
Keeping her gaze locked on the Praetorian, she grabbed his other hand and another knife.
“Where?”
“Bitch!”
And she drove the second knife into his left hand.
“Next I will start taking pieces,” she whispered into his ear.
The Praetorian let out two heavy breaths against the pain and his impeding betrayal.
“The Forum,” he mumbled.
Martin turned and walked toward the body of the constable her father had killed.
“Let me go or finish this!” demanded the Praetorian.
She leaned down and withdrew her father’s sword from the constable’s body and turned back toward the guard.
“Do it!” he shouted.
Martin ignored the dying Praetorian as she examined her father’s sword. Her father had held this sword when he swore to defend the ProConsul with his life. Now she would use it to take the life of Astra Varus.
She slowly looked up toward the Praetorian.
“The Praetorians will bleed today like they have never bled before,” she promised. “And then I will use this Praetorian sword to take the life of your precious ProConsul.”
“You—”
The Praetorian’s response abruptly ended as Martin drove her father’s sword into his throat.
Chapter 19
Brilliant flashes of blue rippled across the darkness of space as Akota warships completed their jumps into Humani territory. In the Combat Information Center of Admiral Whitehorse’s flagship, Winterfall, Stone stood anxiously as the tactical screen updated to show his home planet, Alpha Humana.
“Status,” barked Admiral Whitehorse.
“Standby, Sir,” replied the Fleet Tactical Officer as her 3-D tactical plot began to flash with contacts. “All units accounted for with the exception of the frigate Rabbit and the battleship Yellow Horse.”
“Have they reported?”
“Incoming electron spin message from Yellow Horse…jump coordinate computer is down…estimate one hour for repairs. Nothing from Rabbit, Sir.”
“Damn it,” cursed Whitehorse. “Very well, Commander.”
Whitehorse turned toward Stone, still staring at the tactical plot.
“Are you okay, Marshal?”
“Oh…yes, Admiral,” replied Stone, refocusing himself. “If you would have told me three years ago that I would be standing on the bridge of a Terillian warship leading an invasion of my home planet—
”
“Fate is a funny thing—and we’re all at her mercy.”
“She’s more like an evil bitch with a cruel sense of humor.”
“Maybe so,” chuckled Whitehorse. “But either way, she has put you here. Are you ready?”
“All troops are loaded into dropships and transports. We’ll be ready when the launch call comes.”
“Well that—”
“Contacts!” interrupted the FTO.
“Number and type,” ordered Whitehorse.
“Multiple…25 Hanmani orbital destroyers and…nine battlecruisers with several dozen escorts.”
“That will be part of the home fleet. The rest must be at the Gateway Station.”
“Scan for Akota identification codes,” ordered Whitehorse as he turned toward Stone. “If your agent succeeded, they should be flashing friendly electronic idents.”
“Nothing, Sir.”
“Damn it,” replied Stone. “But it doesn’t mean the plan isn’t still working.”
“True, but I would feel a lot better if they were flashing the right codes,” replied Whitehorse. “FTO, pass the word to all units—Weapons Tight, Condition Red.”
“Time for me to join my troops,” said Stone. “Good luck, Admiral.”
“Good luck, Mar—”
“Multiple neutrino spikes,” reported the FTO.
“Where?” asked Whitehorse.
“Grids 7-Alpha, 7-Bravo, 3-Delta, and 3-Charlie. 25 signatures in total.”
“Idents?”
“They’re…” The FTO turned toward Admiral Whitehorse. “They’re Doran ships, Sir.”
“Dorans?” replied Whitehorse.
“Yes, Sir. 23 orbital destroyers and 10 battlecruisers…multiple escorts….” The upper-right corner of the FTO’s screen began to flash red. “Targeting scan being run, Sir. Picking up fighters inbound.”
“Damn it,” cursed Whitehorse. “To all units, Weapons Free.”
“Can we get through?” asked Stone.
“Maybe, but it will cost us,” replied Whitehorse. “It appears our plan is already starting to come apart.”
“Maybe,” replied Stone. “But we haven’t heard from the other elements.”
“Comms, do we have any reports from Task Force Scout or Raven?”
The fleet communications officer turned toward Whitehorse.
“Task Force Scout reports attack underway. They have confirmed some Hanmani ships are supporting, but are tied up fighting amongst themselves. Task Force Raven reports attack underway…no other reports.”
“Well, at least part of the plan seems to be working,” said Whitehorse.
“Can you get my troops into high orbit, Admiral?” asked Stone.
“I’ll try to punch a hole through with the battleships and provide cover for your landing. But we’ll have to be quick so I can get my carriers back into the fight. Without them, we could lose the fleet, and I don’t think you want to be on the surface without a fleet providing cover.”
Stone’s memory flashed to the molten boulders of metal raining down on Juliet 3. If the fleet was lost, the Humani and Doral orbital destroyers would vaporize the landing zones from orbit before the assault could even get off the ground. “No, I don’t.”
“FTO, order the diversion force, the Scout Rangers, and their fighter cover to launch. They need to take out as many of those orbital destroyers as they can.”
“Aye, Sir,” replied the FTO.
Stone’s thoughts flashed to Mori as he heard the order for her teams to launch passed over the circuit. Part of him wished he had turned down command so he could be with her at that moment. But he couldn’t think of that now. “I’ll be awaiting the launch order, Admiral,” he said, turning toward the exit.
“I’ll get you into orbit and launched, Marshal,” replied Whitehorse. “It’s up to you after that.”
***
Inside the Forum communications center, two officers frantically tracked dozens of incoming messages.
“What the hell is going on, Captain?” asked a young lieutenant.
“The Gateway Station has just gone to full alert, and Home Fleet command is reporting a Terillian attack on the Station,” replied the captain.
“I just received a report from the battlecruiser Tali Drax and the orbital destroyer Raptor…they are reporting mutinies and fighting amongst the crew.” The lieutenant paused as he read another message burst. “Meridi IV reports being attacked by Seria Vatri.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“No,” gasped the lieutenant.
“What is it?”
“Terillian ships have been reported in striking distance of Alpha Humana! This can’t be happening. What are we supposed to be doing with this information?”
“I—” The captain paused. “High Command has just issued a shelter warning for the entire planet.”
“We need to contact Colonel Maxia and—”
A buzz on their console alerted them that someone was at the entrance to the center.
The lieutenant activated the door camera.
“It’s a Praetorian,” he said.
“Well, open it,” ordered the captain. “He might know what’s going on.”
As the door slid open, the body of the Praetorian fell forward onto the floor. Standing behind him was Martin, sword in hand. The captain glanced toward one of his data screens, flashing the arrest warrant for Martin.
“You!” he shouted as he reached for his pistol.
***
Martin lunged forward, driving her sword into the captain’s chest as she crashed her left boot into the lieutenant’s knee. As the lieutenant fell to the floor, Martin yanked the sword from the captain’s chest and laid the lieutenant’s chest open with a powerful slash.
Catching her breath, Martin set her sword on the console.
Pulling up the priority message page, she punched in ALPHA: FE 2S-4, 3S-21, 4S-3, BRAVO: PH 3S-1, 3P-1, and XE 4D-4, 5S-2, and 5P-4 for the Akota fleet valance sequence. In the message block, she typed: LANDING FORCE CHARLIE OSCAR FRM GYM CHAMP BK ABORT ABORT ABORT END MSG.
She activated the ENCRYPT key and pressed SEND before grabbing her sword.
“Now for you, Astra Varus.”
***
“How long until we launch, Sir?” asked an anxious lieutenant.
“Not much longer, Lieutenant,” replied Stone as he stood by the command center in his dropship.
As he waited for the word to launch, he listened in on the tactical circuits as the battle unfolded. Through the chaotic chatter he heard Mori’s voice.
Command, Sierra Romeo Alpha Team, breach of targets Heavy 002, 003, 006, 009, 010, 012 complete.
He wanted so badly to be there.
“Sir,” interrupted General Vae.
“Yes, General? Is it the launch order?”
“No, Sir. Admiral Whitehorse requests your presence in CIC immediately.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t say, Marshal.”
“Damn it,” cursed Stone. “Stay ready for the launch order.”
***
Stone slowed from a sprint as he reached the ballistic doors of Winterfall’s CIC. THIS IS THE TAO…INCOMING ENEMY AIRCRAFT…ALL AIR DEFENSE SQUADRONS LAUNCH echoed through the ship’s announcing system as he stopped in front of two guards posted at the entrance to CIC.
“Marshal Stone for Admiral Whitehorse,” said Stone.
The guards moved aside, and Stone stepped inside as the ballistic doors slowly opened. He was met immediately by Whitehorse.
“We just received this via electron spin,” he said, reaching Stone the printout of a report.
Stone quickly scanned over the message Martin had sent from the Forum communications center. “When did this—”
“I called for you as soon as we received it. Task Force Scout is heavily engaged and we haven’t heard from Raven since the initial report. And now this. Is this from your contact?”
“Damn it. Yes, it’s her,” r
eplied Stone. “The plan must be compromised.” He looked up toward Whitehorse. “We have to abort the attack.”
“Son of a bitch,” cursed Whitehorse. “We were so close,” he added looking at Alpha Humana through the viewing screen. “FTO!” he shouted.. “To all units Fallen Eagle, Fallen Eagle; commence combat recovery of all fighters and attack craft. Send word to Task Force Scout and Raven as well as to Akota command. Task Force Eagle is aborting the landing.”
“Aye, Sir,” acknowledged the FTO.
“How long will it take to get everyone back?” asked Stone.
“Air Combat?” asked Whitehorse. “How long until recovery?”
“Should be about 15 minutes for air defense and attack craft, Sir. Word has been passed for the Scout Rangers to break off their attacks…awaiting reply.”
“Admiral, receiving flash message from Task Force Scout,” interrupted the FTO. “Hanmani fleet has been reinforced by Doran warships. They’re breaking off the attack, but report Gateway Station has been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” asked Stone.
“Yes, Marshal,” replied the FTO. “Admiral Willow reports one of their own battlecruisers rammed into it.”
“Plaxis,” said Stone. “He must have realized it was falling apart and did what he had to in order to takeout the station.”
“At least part of the attack has been successful,” said Whitehorse.
“Admiral, Scout Rangers report all units embarking except track Heavy 006. That’s team Alpha One,” reported the FTO.
“Alpha One? That’s Ka-itsenko Ino’ka’s team.”
“Ino’ka? Have they made any reports?”
The FTO looked toward the Admiral.
“Tell me!” shouted Stone.
“Yes, Marshal,” replied the FTO. “They reported they had taken out the ship’s jump and main battery reactors but were cut off from their dropships.”
“Patch me into their circuit,” said Stone.
The FTO again looked toward Admiral Whitehorse.
“Do it,” ordered Whitehorse.
“Aye, Sir,” replied the FTO. “Patching in now,” she added as she reached a headset to Stone.
Stone grabbed the headset. “Alpha One, this is Landing Force Actual, over? Alpha One, this is Landing Force Actual…Ino’ka, this is Magakisca.”
The circuit cracked as Mori’s voice could be heard over gunfire through the circuit.
