Showdown: Rise Of Mankind Book 10

by John Walker

  Gray checked and noted that they were now facing five enemy capital ships. Of the vessels sent by the alliance, only four remained. With The Font and Behemoth, they still had a slight advantage. Would it be enough? If the enemy didn’t bring in anyone extra and didn’t get lucky, then the fight would go to the alliance. Otherwise…

  “Power surge from the enemy,” Olly said. “Looks like a core meltdown. They might be trying to sacrifice one of those ships.”

  “Wait.” Clea interrupted. “These readings aren’t right. If they were truly going to destroy one of their cores, then this would be off your chart. No, this is a ruse.”

  “Trying to even the odds,” Gray said. “If anyone took the bait, they would either microjump out of the fight, fallback into the defensive platforms or simply flee. Regardless, that’s one less ship for them to fight.”

  Clea nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

  “How do we know that they’re bluffing?” Adam asked. “They’ve never bothered to do so before. In fact, that’s how we’ve beaten them. You may simply not be familiar with the type of equipment they’re using onboard that ship. If you’re wrong, we’re putting a lot of lives in jeopardy.”

  “They’re not advancing,” Redding said. “I would imagine they don’t want to blow up their own people.”

  “Let’s put the concern to rest,” Gray said. “Agatha, get everyone on the com. Focus all fire on that ship. We’ll put it down and then it won’t be a problem anymore.”

  Redding tapped at her controls and prepared to fire, leaning forward to acknowledge the countdown. A moment later, all their vessels hit the ship nearly at the same time. The resulting attack cut through the front of their target, with several shots exiting out the other side. It listed to the left and its companions moved well away as it exploded.

  The shockwave made The Behemoth rumble but not enough to cause appreciable damage. Gray turned to Olly. “Problem solved?”

  “Yes, sir.” Olly cleared his throat. “They may have been using that ship for that because we’d already put a good amount of hurt on it. That’s why our coordinated strike worked so well. Their shields were already down to less than twenty percent.”

  Gray returned to his seat. “Now, I would like—”

  A flash dazzled him and a moment later, a shockwave struck the ship, making it list hard to the right. “They did it!” Olly called. “They took out the station!”

  “Thank God,” Gray said. “As I was saying…”

  An ear shattering crash made the bridge shake, bringing the lights down in a moment. Someone cried out but Gray was forced to cling to his chair in order to stay seated. Something exploded behind him and he winced. Metal tore beside him. A clamor to his right sounded like the entire bridge might be torn from the ship.

  For a brief moment, he thought they’d been destroyed. Am I still alive? The room became cold before power returned to the section. It wound up, whining as relays took the energy and restored the lights. Gray stood, fighting disorientation as the ship seemed to be leaning to the right.

  Clea was on the ground, unmoving and Adam’s chair had been tossed to the other side of the room. The first officer was underneath it, his hand sticking out and covered with blood. Olly was face down on his console, seemingly unconscious. Leonard had fallen out of his chair but writhed in pain.

  Agatha’s chair obscured her and Redding appeared to be the only person who made it out unscathed. She worked frantically at her controls, presumably working to right the ship. Gray had to make a determination of who to check on first. He crouched by Clea on his way to Adam, feeling for her pulse.

  She was still alive but unconscious. Olly’s body moved with the gentle rhythm of breathing so at least he’d survived. Gray knelt beside Adam and tried to move the chair but the entire assembly had flown across the room. He lifted his friend’s bloodied hand, pressing his fingers against his wrist.

  Nothing.

  No! Damn it! Gray returned to his seat and slapped the com. “Medical, I need a team on the bridge immediately! We’ve got severely wounded!”

  No response.

  “Medical! Doctor Brand! Come in!”

  “I’m here,” Doctor Brand’s voice came back through the line. People were shouting behind her, screaming in pain. It sounded like total chaos. “We’ve got a lot of wounded, Gray. I’ll get someone up there shortly.”

  “Adam doesn’t have a pulse and we need to move something off of him. Please bring whoever you need. And get me a casualty report as soon as you can.” Gray turned. “Agatha, can you get…” He paused, moving over to her station. The explosion came from her console and she took the full brunt of it. “No…”

  Agatha had likely died in an instant.

  “What happened?” Doctor Brand’s voice spoke over the small speaker at his chair. “What hit us, Gray?”

  “One of those gunships,” Redding replied for him. “After the station went up, they seemed to be on an attack run and hit us near one of our relay stations. Between the shockwave and their attack, we experienced massive overloads throughout the ship. It’s honestly a miracle we’re alive.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Gray muttered. “Where’s that ship now?”

  Redding’s voice lowered. “I’m taking care of it. Manual control of the turrets.”

  “Let me know when it’s gone.” Gray moved over to Clea, giving her a gentle shake. “Hey…wake up. I need you alert and back in the fight.”

  Clea stirred, her eyes fluttering open before pinching into a wince. “Oh my…what happened? My head…”

  “We’re in a bad way,” Gray said. “I need your help. Medical’s on the way. The station’s been destroyed but one of those gunships is still out there.”

  Clea got to her feet and swayed as the ship righted itself, leveling out. Weapons fire made the floor rumble. She joined Olly at his station, bringing something up on his console before checking him over. Gray helped Leonard into his chair and the young man leaned forward, holding his stomach.

  “Almost got him,” Redding said. “He’s fast…”

  “Don’t let up,” Gray said, returning to his own seat. Dizziness hit him hard and he felt a sharp pain in his back. “Don’t give him another chance to use that weapon.”

  Reaching behind him, he felt something wet at his shoulder blade and a piece of metal sticking out of him. It wasn’t overly large, possibly not life threatening but the pain certainly made itself known. Great, me too. The cannons fired again. Redding cursed, slamming her fingers into the console before taking another shot.

  “The enemies are retreating,” Clea said. “Look. Our ships are in pursuit. I suspect they’re reaching out to their commanders for guidance on what to do.”

  Gray looked at his own screen, watching as the gunship veered to the left. Redding led him, catching his nose. The ship tumbled, exploding in a tiny purple ball. Any other time, it might’ve been a dazzling sight but after everything they’d just been through, it paled in comparison.

  “Lose,” Gray replied. “That’s what they’re about to do. Good job with that gunship, Redding. Do we have coms?”

  “Yes, sir but what about…”

  “Just,” Gray interrupted, “contact the alliance fleet and let them know the station is down. They are welcome to hit those bastards hard and finish this up.”

  Redding looked past him at Agatha and swallowed hard before returning her attention to her station. “Understood.”

  We succeeded. Gave our people time to take that station out. I knew it would be dangerous but what a cost. This should be the end of it. There’s so much to check up on, so many things to do. I don’t have time to bleed in the medical bay. I need to coordinate our efforts, get search and rescue going…I need to…

  Gray felt nausea grip his stomach and he slumped back in his chair. His vision tunneled but he fought hard to remain conscious. Discipline beat the injury and he sat forward, determined to see the next hour through. Whatever it took, he would make
himself available for his people.

  ***

  Deva had her nose buried in scans, keeping track of all fighter activity and the attacks of the enemies outside. She caught the rise in heat levels from the station moments before it exploded. Doubling the shields on that side of the ship, they took little more than a nudge from the shockwave.

  “They’ve succeeded,” Deva called out to the others. “The transmission station has been destroyed.”

  “Excellent,” Kale replied. “Give me a scan. I want to know if the coordination we theorized about has officially been broken.”

  “Yes, sir.” Deva brought up the long range scanner and read through the data. The signal had been broken and all enemy vessels lost their coordination advantage. Mei’Gora’s fleet already began taking advantage of it, hitting them hard. It wouldn’t be an instantaneous victory but sheer numbers would prevail. “I’ve confirmed and the fleet is engaged.”

  “Alright, and it looks like these bastards are withdrawing.” Kale came to stand beside her. “I suppose we should finish them off. Thaina, can you—”

  “Sir!” Deva interrupted. “The Behemoth just took massive damage from one of the gunships! They’re listing!”

  “Wena,” Kale barked the woman’s name, spinning in place. “Get them on com. I want a damage report from them and what they need. Where are the pilots? They should be engaging this scum.”

  Wena hummed. “They’re not responding.”

  Deva added, “the bridge took heavy damage. Engines are online but it looks like they’re dealing with a lot of casualties.”

  “Let the destroyers chase the enemy,” Kale turned to Athan. “Close in on The Behemoth. We’re on protection detail until this is over. They took the brunt of this conflict in a major way. We owe them a great deal.”

  “I’m not sure why they were prioritized,” Thaina grumbled. “We were doing our fair share.”

  “That’s just like a weapon’s officer,” Athan said. “Complains when we don’t get shot at.”

  “Enough,” Kale ended the conversation. “Just get us into position and hold the commentary. Our job’s almost done so remain focused.”

  Deva tapped at her console, monitoring the situation around them. The somber feeling about what happened to The Behemoth battled the rising hope that they seemed to win the war. As Mei’Gora’s fleet blasted their way through the remaining enemies, she picked up the com traffic from the different units in the field.

  Fighters drove back their quarry. Bombers launched their ordinance into the orbital defenses, tearing through the platforms. Destroyers pressed the larger capital ships. Soon, they’d be able to answer the myriad of distress calls throughout the sector. This conflict has raged my entire life and I’m here to witness it end.

  One of the most important moments in history blossomed around her. Deva did her best to keep her attention on the task at hand.

  ***

  Mei’Gora gave the order to initiate his plan and watched it unfold, half shocked at how well it worked. His units moved quickly, battering the enemy and tearing through their lines swiftly. Without the coordination, they fired erratically, doing their best but lacking the sheer weight of their combined might.

  The orbital stations went next, easy targets for the longer range of his battleships. They made a hole and moved in to conduct the orbital bombardment. His communication’s officer let him know they were being hailed by the surface, an urgent message from the devarans. He checked his screen for a translation and found his opponents eager to discuss terms.

  A fringe faction within the culture opposed the war. They wanted to end it, to save what was left of their people before the bombs began to drop. This battle, the entire war, has been won. Now, the real work begins. Diplomacy…to preserve this race and the peace our blood will have bought.

  “Tell them we’re willing to talk,” Mei’Gora said. “I want all defensive platforms and weapons offline or we’ll conduct the attack. When you’re done with that, initiate search and rescue. We have people who need aid. Give it to them.”

  He returned to his seat and sat down, feeling more weary than successful. Mei’Gora had dedicated himself to fighting these people and now, as it came to an end, he could not celebrate. His thoughts fell to the men and women who sacrificed themselves for this victory. So many lives were cut short due to the devarans and yet he still let them talk.

  I cannot commit genocide, not when there must be decency amongst their people. We will find out as we hold the upper hand and if for some reason they push us to their destruction, it will be after we’ve tried to preserve them. For the sake of my people’s honor and the memory of our fallen, we will give diplomacy a chance.

  ***

  Epilogue

  Gray found himself in the sickbay less than an hour after the catastrophic explosion that occurred on the bridge. He sat up, allowing them to apply the bandage to his wounded back where they dislodged a chunk of metal which had gone through his chair to pierce him. He looked down at his tablet, reading reports from all over the ship.

  Most of the damage they suffered hit the bridge. Adam and Agatha were casualties, killed instantly by the explosion. Leonard suffered a ruptured spleen but the doctor was able to stabilize him. Olly’s knock on the head wasn’t bad enough to relieve him from duty and he organized damage control teams with engineering from the bridge.

  Clea joined him beside his bed, taking a seat quietly. His eyes lingered on the list of people killed in action, focusing on the marines who boarded the station. All of them were lost, sacrificing themselves for the sake of the mission. Captain Hoffner and Lieutenant Colonel Dupont were devastated and he shared their feelings.

  Most of their pilots made it back alive with only a few exceptions. Several ships were shot down but they saved the operators through search and rescue. Wing Commander Meagan Pointer’s escape pod was not found and though she would’ve otherwise been declared missing, reports suggested it burned up in the atmosphere.

  Gray set the tablet aside, unable to read anymore bad news. He turned to Clea and drew a deep breath, wondering if he wanted to hear what she had to say.

  “How’re you feeling?” She asked.

  “Uncomfortable. In more ways than one.” Gray rubbed his eyes. “Do you have something to report?”

  “Not really.” Clea swallowed hard. “I just…I’m sorry. For everything that happened.”

  “No one thought we’d come here and walk away unscathed,” Gray replied. “Not in the middle of this. And we didn’t take the worst of it. I saw how many alliance ships were destroyed in this action.”

  Clea nodded. “That doesn’t make our losses any easier.”

  “Have you received any word about Trellan?”

  “Yes, he escaped.” Clea shrugged. “Apparently, the Fates have plans for the man because he got out despite all odds.”

  “Incredible. Where is he now?”

  “Sickbay two on the other side of the ship. He’s got some bumps and bruises, possible a sprain, a slipped disk in his back and damage to his shoulder. Nothing he won’t recover from.”

  “That’s one of the only people who can say such a thing in this fight.” Gray closed his eyes and saw Agatha’s face followed by Adam. Both of them gone. It felt impossible and yet, he was going to have to speak to their families, tell them what happened. That conversation would make it real even as his mind rebelled against it.

  “We’ve won,” Clea said. “All those years ago when your planet was attacked, your people thought of this day. Back then, you believed the war would take you to this point and so it has. They will never assault you again. Your planet, all of our planets, are safe.”

  “From this threat, yes.” Gray sighed. “What about the terrorists and pirates? Groups like the Orion’s Light…there will always be another enemy.”

  “You sound a bit like Siva now…and you’re right, of course. But we’ll be ready for them, don’t you think? Our veterans…our equipment…we’ve fa
ced the worst the galaxy has ever offered and we’re alive, cultures intact. I pity whoever comes after us next. Believe me, no one will make it easy for them to conduct mischief.”

  “This is it for us, isn’t it?” Gray asked. “You’ll be leaving the ship now.”

  Clea sat up straighter, her expression suggesting she hadn’t thought of such a thing until that moment. Finally, she nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “I’m afraid so. I’ve got my duties with intelligence and…well…you have a seat on our council and a fleet of your own being built. You don’t require a liaison anymore.”

  “What about a friend?” Gray extended his hand to her. “I don’t think either of us have outgrown that need.”

  Clea tilted her head, gripping his fingers. “I will always consider you the most influential and dearest friend of my life. No one will be able to fill the gap your absence will leave. But this is not goodbye forever, I’m certain. Someday, in the not too distant future, we’ll encounter one another again. Until then…”

  “Until then, we carry on with duty and responsibility.” Gray let her go and peered at his tablet. “I’ll miss you…you know that, don’t you?”

  “You’re not coming back with us then?” Clea asked. “You’re going straight home.”

  “Yes…that’s the plan. We’ve been away from Earth for too long and after this, our people need it.”

  “I understand.” Clea looked away. “I’ll toast your name with my family upon my return.”

  “Kale said he’d be happy for you to join him on the return trip. I’m assuming he can take Trellan as well.”

  “I’ll make arrangements.” Clea stood up. “Will you be okay?”

  “I’ve been alone before,” Gray said. “When I met you, I’d just lost my friend and mentor. We’d taken a severe beating from the devarans. We’ll figure it out. Humanity has always been resilient. We bounce back. You’ll see. Finally, we’ll have the chance to do some exploring. I’d say it’s about time.”