Showdown: Rise Of Mankind Book 10

by John Walker

  “Wow. You must’ve surged them,” Deva said. “I’m reading they are down to thirty-percent but recharging quickly. Also, we’ve got more of those gunship things incoming.”

  “Get our fighters on them,” Kale said. “I want those vessels intercepted before they can strike us again. How many more hits to deal with the first ship?”

  “Two…maybe three,” Thaina said. “Where are they at with firing?”

  “They’re pulling away!” Deva cried. “Look! They’re moving off!”

  “Athan, give chase,” Kale said. “Deva, let us know if we’re moving into some kind of trap but we need to keep within optimal range to fire. Thaina, keep up the pressure. Where are our bombers at?”

  “They ran into some trouble,” Athan said. “The Behemoth is sending aid but they’re busy staying alive for the moment, sir. They won’t be able to attack the enemy vessels right away.”

  “Understood but I want at least one of them ready for when those shields drop. They can really tear through the hull with a couple well placed pulse bombs.” Kale checked and noted the reinforcements coming from The Behemoth. Wena sent him a message that came from their allies, letting them know that the marines successfully landed on the station.

  Okay, things are moving as planned. In a manner of speaking. Hopefully, they can get over here and help us now.

  “Sir, we have additional capital ships moving in our direction,” Deva said. “I’m reading two more.”

  “Four to two,” Kale muttered. “With one nearly destroyed…and a whole lot of these gunships to deal with. Does that about sum it up?”

  “Yes, sir,” Deva replied. “Reinforcements from The Behemoth have engaged with ours to provide cover so we’ve got some relief.”

  “All we have to do is buy time for those soldiers to destroy the station,” Kale said. He found his statement amusing considering how difficult the task had to be for the men they sent. The good news was the marines only had to deal with whatever they found on the station. The enemy would not be able to land reinforcements with the alliance ships around.

  And providing we hold them fast here, we’ll be in a great position to keep this area.

  “The Behemoth is on the way,” Wena said. “We’ll have them momentarily.”

  “Excellent,” Kale replied. “Keep me informed and Thaina, fire at will. I want to put that ship down as quickly as we can. With two more on the way, I’d rather this be three to two. Especially with their advantage from the station.”

  Chapter 6

  Alma considered herself an experienced alliance pilot. Her flight time rivaled some of her most seasoned peers and she’d engaged in almost a hundred missions against this enemy through various battlefields. Prior to launching, she believed every other encounter prepared her for what they were about to face.

  Nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

  While she understood heavy odds and even found herself in sticky situations plenty of times before, this was a whole new level. The enemy fought with much more ferocity and they displayed even less self preservation than normal. She’d barely left the hangar when a fighter charged her, firing wildly. As she banked hard and dove, it became clear he’d intended to ram her.

  So it’ll be that type of battle. Marvelous.

  Pressing outward, Alma and the others provided flanking support for The Crystal Font. They could see The Behemoth far off as it deployed shuttles to invade the station. The kielan attack force was to provide a distraction while they dropped their payloads. Another mission where we’re the decoys. I’m a little tired of it.

  Alma didn’t have a lot of faith in the human marines but they were chosen by high command. Someone believed they had what it took and maybe they did. However, the seasoned veterans aboard The Font certainly knew what they were doing. Then, another idea came over her.

  Maybe high command didn’t want to risk our own people.

  Once she launched, all worries about it faded and she let herself settle into a zone. This final battle, this invasion signaled the end of decades of war. None of them would pull any stops, not on either side nor any ship in the fleets. If they saw an opportunity, no risk would be too great.

  This was especially true of the Devarans. They had everything to lose so they needed to take whatever opportunity they could to survive.

  Their desperation became more and more apparent as their fighters performed wild, unsafe maneuvers to gain advantages, attempting to ram as often as they fired their weapons. Perhaps they had enough ships to throw them away like errant missiles but Alma intended to go home.

  She found herself falling into a mostly defensive posture, evading more than attacking. The others in her wing suffered the same but at least they were distracting the forces from attacking The Font. Regardless, Alma didn’t like the single sided brawl. Avoiding harm would only work so long before one of the enemy got lucky.

  “We have to reverse this,” Alma called out to the rest of the pilots flying about her. “Rahan, any ideas?”

  “I’d suggest luring them—” Rahan grunted, interrupting himself. When he came back, his breathing was heavy. “That was close…I was going to say we should lure them to some debris. Make it so wild flying is more dangerous than regular fighting.”

  “For both sides,” Alma hummed. She suddenly had to focus, diving under a suicidal pilot and spinning to avoid a barrage of pulse fire. Banking hard, the ship headed back toward The Crystal Font where they had just engaged a couple of larger ships. Enemy fighters poured out of those vessels, adding to the battle. “Perfect, they got help.”

  “You guys talking about help?” Meagan Pointer’s voice came over the radio and Alma’s heart lifted. “Mind if we join you?”

  “It’s been a little wild over here,” Alma said, once again conducting a series of maneuvers to stay alive. Her body ached from the quick motions, the way she was jostled in her seat while forcing the inertial dampeners to work overtime. “I’m glad to see you. We have to turn this around. We’re strictly defensive in this fight.”

  “Understood,” Meagan replied. “Panther Wing, engage. Let’s put some fire down on these guys and see if we can slow down their suicidal tactics. You are weapons free. Friend or foe engaged. Let’s do this.”

  Alma saw lights flashing out of the corner of her eye. She accelerated to full speed, pulling away from the fight. Once her scans indicated she wasn’t in immediate danger, she flipped around and slowed down, preparing to re-engage. The rest of her wing joined her, forming up as they began their own attack run.

  The enemy flew around as sporadically as insects, weaving and juking without any sort of predictable pattern. Leading these guys is going to be nearly impossible. The targeting computer also proved to be too slow. Time to drop the crutches, I suppose. Alma brought up a target reticle and fired a short burst.

  It caused the enemies to scatter, moving wildly but she didn’t hit anything. Next time. Rahan moved directly to her left and sent her a ping for a coordinated attack. He’d stir the pot, giving her a chance to take someone down. As he laid out a long series of pulse blasts, the enemy began to go wild, several of them climbing suddenly.

  Alma took her shot, following them so that she might get a good firing solution. The first one took a direct blast to the rear, sending him spinning out of control. The next one she caught on the side but the third one escaped, erratically flying out of the way.

  As he tried to get around behind Alma, he suddenly exploded and one of the Panther ships flew by his debris. Those Earth pilots know how to be flashy. “Thank you,” she called out. “Impressive shots.”

  “We’ve got more of our own ships incoming as well,” Meagan said. “But we’ve got a problem. Have you seen these gunships yet?”

  Alma risked a quick glance at her scanner and sighed. “Yes, we received word from The Font about them earlier. Have they entered the field? I don’t see any…wait…they’re coming in. Four of them.”

  “This should be int
eresting,” Meagan said. “I’ve been looking forward to a chance to take a shot at these.”

  “Be careful,” Rahan warned. “They were able to do enough damage on The Font to drop her shields by seventy-percent in a few seconds.”

  “They can only possibly do that once before recharging,” Alma said.

  “But once would be all that we need to die,” Rahan replied.

  Fair point. One I’ll take under advisement.

  “Let’s get over there.” Alma checked the scanner again. Four of the larger fighters seemed to be on an intercept course with them. The other pilots were holding their own against the mainstay enemy craft. She, Rahan, Tular and Meagan could take them. She was certain of it. “Want to go hunting?”

  “We should probably go in with greater numbers,” Meagan said. “We need them to be on the defensive.”

  “They’ve got turrets,” Alma replied. “They’re going to be able to shoot at us from any angle. I suppose more targets would help…but we need to leave the mainstay of our forces back here to deal with the conventional threats.”

  “Okay, I’m in,” Meagan replied. “Panther Wing, remain engaged here and trim down these numbers. I’ll be back momentarily.”

  Confidence, Alma thought. I’m not sure this will be a quick fight but if we win, it will definitely keep the larger ships safer.

  ***

  Trellan entered a maintenance tunnel and checked his computer, allowing it to scan ahead for his path. There were multiple options for stopping the enemy from using the station. The marines could blow it up, the brute force way. He could get to the control center and turn it off, either by telling it to go into maintenance mode or actually shutting it off completely.

  Or he could lower the shields and let the capital ships outside tear it up in a few minutes.

  Whichever one works.

  The light around him was dim and red, just enough to see by. Some of the areas were bathed in darkness, where the illumination wasn’t powerful enough to brighten the place at such distances. He tried his thermal vision but it was too bright and elected to remain with the ambience of the area.

  Gunfire broke out behind him some distance away. He assumed the marines encountered their first Devaran patrol. They’d be in for quite the fight. He did not envy them. Even though he stood completely alone, his companions had it far worse. Which is why he insisted to Siva he go on this mission in the first place.

  If we didn’t have a backup plan, this whole thing would’ve been a waste.

  Of course, he probably could’ve trained a small squad to attempt his part of the mission. The thought crossed his mind a few times on the flight from The Behemoth to the station. He wondered exactly what he was hoping to prove by going along. Did he need to be there? And if not, why did he push so hard to try?

  That’s simple. I did a lot of terrible stuff taking down Orion’s Light. I needed this…a heroic capstone instead of the undercover horrors I perpetrated to take down those animals.

  Trellan’s computer beeped in his ear and he peered at the scan. If he kept going straight and ignored turns along the way, he’d arrive at a ladder. That would take him down three floors to where the largest energy readings were. The reactor had to be close by but the readings made him nervous.

  Those look unshielded. That meant they just ran their power plant without safety concerns. Trellan ran a quick diagnostic and found his armor would sufficiently protect him against the radiation. He sent a ping to Sander to let him know what he discovered. Ensure none of your men remove their protection. This place is a pit.

  The Devarans clearly didn’t care about their workers. Society above all…but not a healthy one. He wondered if they even had individual thought or if they were just a hive mind of murderous zealots intent on cleansing the galaxy. Ultimately, it wouldn’t matter. If the alliance succeeded, the threat would be over.

  Trellan picked up the pace and hurried along the tunnel. A sense of urgency pushed him to run and he saw the ladder only a few moments later. As he approached, he heard a sound off to his left, down a tunnel that ended in darkness. Great, is there some Devaran hanging out down here? During a battle? Maybe a coward…I hope he’s just some worker.

  He never encountered one of their average citizens, having only battled their soldiers. What did one of these guys without a gun or body armor look like? Were they broken up into physical castes? The lowly laborer bulky and strong but not honed for combat? Leaders tall and lanky without the bulges of muscles?

  Trellan paused and aimed his weapon in the direction, dropping to his knee. He saw metal catch the dim lights around him. Engaging his thermal vision again, he saw a form moving tentatively for him. The computer scanned the form and came back with a message stating they were not armed. He stood up but didn’t lower his weapon.

  “Hi there,” Trellan spoke quietly, hoping not to attract any others. “I think you should stop moving…I hope to the Fates you can understand me.”

  “I know your tongue, kielan,” the deep, rough voice spoke the words with a thick accent, where the harder consonants were made into harsh noises. “You should not be here. Why have you come?”

  “Are you joking?” Trellan shook his head. This might’ve been the first time anyone spoke with a Devaran since the initial contact all those years ago. “You don’t know why we’re here?”

  “Your people have invaded our space. You will all burn for it.”

  “We kind of figured that,” Trellan replied. “But you know. We had to try. After all, you people have been attacking our homes for years. What did you think we were going to do? Not worry about it?”

  “You must realize you cannot win against us,” the devaran continued to move toward him. “We are superior, built from the L’Tala to rule…to bring the Guiding to all.”

  “Not sure we’re interested in…whatever that is. And I must insist you stop moving. I’ll shoot.” Trellan double checked and found his silencer was engaged. “Back off.”

  “I must stop you. Whatever you are doing down here cannot be good. The Guiding has called to us all and we must obey. Death to the kielans…death to the slugs. Death to all who do not embrace the law of L’Tala.”

  Trellan fired three times, scoring direct hits on the thing as it charged him. It didn’t even slow down, grabbing Trellan by the shoulders and throwing him down the hall toward the ladder. As he slammed into the ground and slid several meters, he brought his gun up and took aim, firing again.

  This time, he went for the head and scored one out of three. The devaran jerked, an orange and red blob in the thermal vision but he kept coming. This thing doesn’t even have armor on! Are you kidding me?

  It suddenly dawned on him why they didn’t bother with safety protocols for the reactor. These things didn’t have to worry about the same dangers that kielans did. Their bodies must’ve adapted to radiation, to all sorts of punishment. Though the kinetic force of a bullet should’ve stopped the thing, especially to the head.

  What am I going to do? The devaran walked toward him, without urgency or rush. I don’t have the benefit of a firing line like the marines!

  His computer began scanning the creature, and it came back with a statement of how tough the thing’s hide was. Thanks! I got that! The eyes were shielded by some kind of tough membrane and bone circled the throat. The underside of the muscles on the arms were not especially protected nor were the inner thighs.

  Trellan scrambled backward, taking potshots at the creature but it didn’t hesitate or flinch. After the sixth one, he took careful aim at the thigh and just as the devaran took a step, Trellan pulled the trigger.

  This one made the alien howl and he dropped to one knee. You can be hurt!

  “You will pay for that offense, kielan!”

  Trellan fired again, this time connecting with the other leg. He hoped it would be disabled but then it sprung forward, practically landing on top of him. The monster brought its fists up high to pummel him and he lashed out before the
blows could come, punching the inside of its biceps.

  This slowed it enough for him to grab his knife and he started hacking at the softer bits of the beast. Unfortunately, the devaran managed to get a good blow to his left side. Pain tore through Trellan’s nerves and he wondered if he’d be nursing a broken shoulder. He felt the alien shift his weight, moving for a better vantage to attack.

  Trellan took advantage of it, drawing his knees up and planting both feet on the devaran, shoving himself away. As he slid a good five feet, he fired again, this time connecting with the arms. The alien slumped to its side and let out a desperate moan, a sound full of rage and despair.

  “How has the L’Tala forsaken me? To be slain by the likes of you!”

  Trellan checked his arm and noted that it was dislocated, not broken. At least I can carry on. He stepped over to the alien and placed his gun point blank against its forehead. “I guess it wasn’t your time to win.” He pulled the trigger and at that proximity, the round went right through the skull. The devaran fell still.

  Okay, so that’s why you don’t go off alone in a devaran controlled facility, Trellan. You idiot.

  He took a moment to put his arm back in place, a process that nearly made him scream. It took another several minutes before he felt comfortable moving it again. He popped a pill from his first aid kit, something to deaden the misery long enough for him to finish the mission. If this is the worst thing I suffer here, I’ll be doing well but that thing wasn’t even a warrior.

  If the technicians and janitors were so tough, he didn’t look forward to encountering an actual soldier on his own. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be crawling around in the maintenance tunnels. He figured their armor was too bulky to let them do so anyway. Next time, he’d be prepared for someone.

  I know the weak spots at least. Time to go.

  ***