“Shoot me and we all die!” Husher shouted, and the suit’s AI recognized his desire to speak, amplifying his voice on a couple-second delay. Ignoring the Winger’s order to freeze, he reached down to where a pistol was attached to the suit’s thigh. He popped it out of the holster and raised it above the water, pointing it right at the large alien.
Its comrades, whose feathers stuck up like most Wingers who felt distressed, reacted with alarm, many of them kneeling on the side of the wharf and pointing their weapons at Husher’s head.
“Hold your fire,” their leader ordered. “Explain yourself, human. You don’t look to be in a position to make threats.”
“I’ve brought a nuclear bomb. Kill me, and my suit will detect my death and transmit the detonate command.” That was a bluff, but it would have been a fine idea, if he’d thought about it before jumping from the stealth ship. And if I’d had time to set it up.
It occurred to him that the Fins holding him would probably know he was lying. And yet they did not expose the lie.
“Honored Ones,” the Winger leader said. “Thank you for taking on such risk to bring us this terrorist. It must have been stressful, to think he might have detonated his bomb in your city.”
“I’m not a terrorist,” Husher said.
“It was not danger that moved us to comply with your request, Flockhead Bytan,” one of the Fins said, releasing Husher to move closer to the Wingers while the others continued to hold him. Her voice was distinctly feminine, like Ek’s, but it rang out stronger and clearer than hers. She was also even prettier than Ek, with a perfectly symmetrical face that appeared almost human, other than its glistening, mottled skin. “It was what his presence signifies.”
“What do you mean?” Bytan said.
“You should know better than to feign ignorance with a Fin. My people know of the war you have sought to conceal from us.”
Now Bytan’s emotions came through more, though only with a soft click of her beak.
The Fin continued. “We feared the hundreds of Fin deaths would stoke within you a rage that led to rash actions. We feared you would alienate yourself from the galactic community by striking out at the humans. Have you not done so?”
A tremor ran through Bytan’s frame, but she arrested it quickly. “We have,” she said quietly.
“We also feared you would refuse to communicate with them. This human’s desperate gambit confirms those fears. It would make no strategic sense to fight through the planet’s defenses simply to kill more Fins. That would serve only to make your people more dedicated to the humans’ destruction. Clearly, this human is here to make you listen.”
“There is no desire among the Wingers to listen to humans, Honored One,” Bytan said, her words clipped.
“Fool,” the Fin said, which made most of the Wingers lower their weapons in shock.
Despite the tense circumstances, Husher suppressed a smile that wanted to stretch across his face. Took the words right out of my mouth.
“We find your attempts to hide this war from us patronizing,” the Fin went on. “Insulting. Unacceptable. We also consider it a sign that you know well what our counsel would have been, had you consulted us as you do in every other matter.” She turned to Husher. “It is time for the human to speak. Speak, human.”
“The Ixa are mobilizing,” Husher said.
The Wingers stared at him, frozen. At last, Bytan spoke. “What proof do you have of that?”
“All the proof you could want, if you’d just accept the Providence’s transmission requests. We have footage.”
“Even supposing you’re telling the truth…it does nothing to change the atrocities your species has committed.”
“The Buchanan was not sent here intentionally. Ochrim betrayed us—he programmed the ship’s wormhole generator to kill the crew, knowing that would cause it to crash into your planet and cause this war.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if you assume he’s been working with the Ixa all along. That they want us to make war with each other, to weaken each other, making it that much easier for them to conquer us.”
Bytan’s wings spread apart a little more, rigid. “Your military has entered this conflict with enthusiasm. If they truly didn’t want war, then why do they seem so hell-bent on wiping us out now?”
“It’s true that some humans wants war. Darkstream profits from it, and so it pushes violence whenever it can. But most humans aren’t like that. The Providence is here to join you as allies, along with as many other ships as we can persuade.”
The flockhead laughed, now. It sounded bitter. “Your ship struck at one of our orbital platform and has destroyed four Roostships, along with countless Talons. And you claim to be less warlike than other humans?”
“Captain Keyes is fighting you to buy us time to reach the surface and make you hear us. If that fight continues, he is sure to lose, and he knows that. Do you think he would confront you at such an extreme disadvantage unless he considered it vital that we start talking instead of fighting? We need to ally. Now. We can’t afford to lose one more ship to each other. Not one more soldier.”
“His words have the ring of truth,” the Fin said who’d spoken before.
Bytan didn’t answer, but her tremor returned, and this time she appeared unable to stop it.
“You seem embarrassed,” the Fin said.
“Because she is,” Husher said, fully aware of why Bytan would be embarrassed. “The Wingers have joined with the Gok.”
The Fin’s gaze whipped from Husher’s face to Bytan. “Is this true?” It was the first time Husher had heard a Fin sounding angry.
“Yes,” Bytan said, her voice barely audible.
“We’ve wondered whether it means you’re also allied with the Ixa,” Husher said. “Are you?”
“Of course, not,” Bytan said sharply, then she moderated her tone. “I will admit, the Gok have been sporadic allies. Often, they fail to show up when and where they’re needed, and they’re a nightmare to coordinate with. They behave irrationally during our war councils. But we were desperate to even the odds with the humans, to make them pay for hurting the Fins. So we accepted their offer. I accepted their offer.”
“Fool,” the Fin said again, and Bytan’s trembling increased.
“The Gok and Ixa are old allies,” Husher said. “The Ixa probably instructed the Gok to join with you, to encourage you to fight us. Right now the Ixa are only setting the stage, using Ochrim to hurt us, while they build up their fleet in the background. The real war is yet to come.”
“This must stop, Flockhead Bytan,” the Fin said.
Slowly, Bytan turned to the other Wingers. “I have been foolish. It’s time to start listening to the Fins once more. First Fledgling Cooper, contact Wingleader Korbyn and pass on these orders: make peace with Captain Keyes. Order the Gok to stop fighting, and if they refuse…if they refuse, destroy them.”
“The human is hurt,” said one of the Fins who held him. “We should help him.”
Bytan turned back to face him. “What’s your name, human?”
“I’m First Lieutenant Husher.”
This inspired the most dramatic reaction in the Wingers yet. Wings spread open, accompanied by a chorus of clacking beaks.
As before, Bytan appeared the most composed. “Vincent Husher?” she asked slowly.
“How do you know that?”
“He claimed you were coming, but we didn’t believe him.”
“Who?”
“Warren Husher. He arrived two days ago, and we have had him in our custody since. We have your father.”
Chapter 88
Trust
Keyes’s thoughts were muddled from the stims, and he was having trouble extracting the meaning from Korbyn’s words. Several minutes ago, the Wingers had abruptly disengaged, though the Gok carrier was still attempting to ram the Providence. So far, they were having more success evading it than the first. So far. And a third carrier was almo
st here.
He shook his head to clear it. “I’m sorry. You said—”
“We have received orders to stop fighting you, which we passed on to the Gok. They are not heeding us, and so our orders tell us we must engage them.”
Keyes couldn’t help it—he could feel his lips curl into a smile. “Husher reached the planet. He did it.”
“I don’t claim to understand our orders, Captain Keyes. But it appears we are now allies, despite that your Fleet continues attacking our colonies. I hope you know what it means to be allies.”
“I do.”
“It means persuading your fellow humans to stop attacking us,” Korbyn said as though Keyes hadn’t spoken. “Using force, if necessary.”
“We will stop the fighting,” Keyes said.
“I suppose your words will have to do, for now,” Korbyn said, and then he clacked his beak. “I’m assuming you’d like some help with the carrier attempting to collide with you.”
“Yes. Immediately would be ideal. We can’t afford to take another hit like that.” We could barely afford the first collision. Thinking about Flight Deck A still made him wince.
“Your Condors appear to have some talent for engaging the Gok fighters. If you’ll order them to keep those occupied, I’ll have my Talons perform alpha strikes on the carrier. As many as it takes.”
“Very good,” Keyes said. “And thanks.”
“Korbyn out.”
The wingleader disappeared, replaced on the CIC’s main viewscreen by the Gok carrier, which grew ever larger.
“Coms, patch me through to Fesky.”
“It’s done.”
Keyes nodded, leaning forward. “I need you to keep the Gok fighters occupied while our new friends take out their carrier, Second Lieutenant Fesky.”
Silence was the reply.
“Hello?”
“Captain,” Fesky said at last. “You…”
“Yes?”
“You called me Second Lieutenant.”
“I did. It’s time you became my CAG in name as well as function. Welcome to the Fleet.”
“But we left the Fleet.”
“Wrong, Second Lieutenant. We are the Fleet. And we will rebuild it as what it’s meant to be—a force dedicated to serving and defending humanity and its allies.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll expect you in Hangar Deck B the moment you return, for the promotion ceremony.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Keyes out.” He turned to his sensor operator. “Give me a sitrep, Ensign.”
“The other Gok ships are turning around, sir,” Werner said. “They know the battle is lost.”
“But not the carrier pursuing us.”
“No. But…sir, the Gok ship has sent us a transmission request.”
He blinked. “Accept.”
Instead of a Gok, the Ixan Captain Teth appeared on the screen, his creepy smile firmly in place.
“What the hell,” Keyes muttered.
“Captain Keyes,” the Ixan said. “Don’t bother embarrassing yourself by talking at me. This is a recording, which I’ve instructed the Gok to transmit to you. If you’re receiving this, it means you’ve survived your scuffle with the Wingers and the Gok. I want to warn you: don’t let your narrow escape from destruction make you think this is anywhere close to being over. This was the opening act, and I look forward to meeting you on the battlefield again. I expect you’ll be wearing the same confused expression as last time—still trying to figure out whether the Prophecies are real or not.”
Teth vanished from the viewscreen, and for a moment there was silence in the CIC.
“Captain, the Wingers just performed a second alpha strike. The Gok ship has been neutralized.”
“Very good,” Keyes said. “Order the crew on Hangar Deck G to prepare a shuttle. I mean to convene a war council with the Wingers immediately.”
Keyes faced the viewscreen once more, which now showed the remnants of the Gok carrier that had almost destroyed them. No doubt Teth’s transmission had been intended to scare him, and maybe it had succeeded in scaring his crew.
But feeling afraid didn’t even make sense to Keyes. His perspective was as simple as it had always been—he’d assumed this command with the intention of seeing humanity through the dark times he’d always known were coming. He’d known he might die while carrying out that duty since day one. So fear didn’t factor into it.
Together, with this ship, and this crew, he’d already accomplished the impossible. He trusted in God, and he trusted in the Providence. That was enough.
We’re coming for you, Teth.
Epilogue
Victory
Reporter Horace Finkel fidgeted in the front row of the enormous crowd, waiting for Sonya Hurst to make her entrance and deliver her victory speech.
The Winger war had been a huge boon for her, and her poll numbers had surged in the days leading up to the vote, until they’d tightened up with those of Zach Santana. More than ever, her message of ousting the aliens forever resonated with a sizable segment of the population. And now she’d squeaked out a win.
Finally Hurst emerged, family in tow. They marched across the stage to trumpets blaring.
“This is a great night,” she said as she took the podium, arms spread. The crowd roared. Hurst then launched into the necessaries—thanks for her supporters, followed by a series of platitudes about how the galaxy would enter an era of economic expansion like never before. She didn’t give any specifics, but the crowd cheered each sweeping proclamation.
Secretly, Finkel wasn’t the biggest fan of Hurst, but he’d seen a tremendous opportunity for his career in her rise, so he’d spent the months before the election fawning over her in his coverage. In return, he’d gotten exclusive access. And now that would continue to pay off.
At last, Hurst spoke on what the crowd really wanted to hear.
“And to the cowards who turned their backs on humanity, running to our enemies, I say this.”
For a moment, the audience fell deathly silent.
“Ochrim,” Hurst said. “Are you listening?”
A few enraged shouts from the people behind Finkel.
“Senator Bernard. Can you hear me?”
More shouting. Angrier. Louder. Even over the din, he heard it when someone screamed, “Kill Bernard!”
“Captain Keyes.”
For a few seconds, the tumult grew deafening, and Finkel held his hands to his ears.
Hurst held up her hands, and there was quiet once more. “I ran on a platform of no more war. But clearly, the situation has changed. The only way to end war forever is to destroy our enemies completely. So that’s what we’re going to do.”
The crowd lost it. The rumble of stamping feet ran up Finkel’s calves, and even his clamped hands did nothing to stop his tender eardrums from aching.
“The Wingers’ days are numbered. The Gok’s days are numbered. Even now, we are wiping them out, colony by colony, on planets we will take to enrich humans. And Captain Keyes? Your days are numbered. You have lied to and swindled the people for too long, and with the entire United Human Fleet aligned against you, it will not be long before you’re brought to justice.”
Finkel had to leave. The noise was too much. He would wait backstage, where he expected to be granted the first interview with President Hurst.
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Dedication
To those who keep fighting in the absence of hope.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Sam Bauer for offering insightful editorial input and helpin
g to make this book as strong as it could be.
Thank you to Tom Edwards for creating such stunning cover art.
Thank you to my family - your support means everything.
Thank you to the people who read my stories, write reviews, and help spread the word. I couldn’t do this without you.
Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1 Page 27
