by Brian Dorsey
“No, Major,” answered the Scout Ranger. “I’ve lost comms with all defense teams.”
“And the Ranger squad?”
“No contact, Major. All teams are silent…it’s just myself and Privates Eaglebow and Sage.”
“Damn it,” cursed Sand. “Lieutenant, prepare a long-range emergency broadcast message.” The rattle of gunfire and an explosion outside of the control station drew her attention. “Quickly, before we’re out of time.”
“Ready to record, Major,” reported Whisper.
“Authenticate message priority, Urgent. Code Fallen Sparrow, repeat Fallen Sparrow,” she ordered. Sand then activated the recorder and spoke:
“To all Akota and Confederation units, this is Communications Station Rainfall. Station was attacked at 0640 Standard Time. Size of force unknown. Status: Propulsion: Inoperative. Defenses: External at 50%. Spin and Normal Communications: Inoperative. Crew casualties: Estimate 75%. Defense force casualties including Ranger Squad: 90%. Unable to defend station. Attack force not identified by intelligence databases, most likely Elite Guard of platoon strength or greater. Base commander has been killed, Executive Officer Major Sand has assumed command. Will commence self-destruct sequence at…” She looked at the clock above her control panel. “…0730 Standard Time.”
Another explosion rocked the control room, followed by the sound of bullets ricocheting off the blast door.
“Send it, Lieutenant,” ordered Sand, with a slight crack in her voice.
Sand drew her sidearm and took a deep, calming breath. Communications station Rainfall was manned by a crew of 150, a 20-man security detachment, and had recently been augmented by ten Scout Rangers. The force that had taken the station had done so with no warning and decimated their defenses in under an hour. As far as Sand could tell, Lieutenant Whisper, two electronics techs, and three Rangers were all that was left. If there were more, it didn’t matter; once they finished the destruct sequence, everyone onboard—and hopefully the attackers—would evaporate in the explosion.
“Message out!” reported Whisper.
“Initiate the self-destruct seq—”
An explosion rocked the room and gunfire erupted all around Sand.
***
Sierra leapt through hole caused by the breaching blast. Still mid-air, she centered her rifle on an Akota lieutenant and fired. She hit the ground and rolled forward, letting her rifle swing to her side as she drew two swords from their sheaths on her back. The sound of her men’s rifles echoed in her ears as she kicked a rifle from one of the Ranger’s hands and drove a sword through his throat.
Sierra let out a growl as a bullet tore into her thigh but she shifted her weight and swung with all of her might, ripping the sword from the Ranger’s neck and laying open the second Ranger’s chest. Pivoting again, she drove the sword in her left hand through the temple of the Ranger as he fell. The blade tore through the other side of the Ranger’s skull and embedded in the metal deck with a clang and a spray of sparks.
Spinning to her right, she drew her pistol and fired a round into the stomach of a startled Akota major. As the major fell, Sierra looked toward the last remaining Ranger.
One of her men had him pinned to the bulkhead.
“Mine!” she shouted as the neuro-med capsule embedded in the base of her skull injected adrenaline and cortisone into her body. Walking toward the Ranger, she felt the nano-neutrophils flowing to her wound as the coagulate serum flowed through her circulatory system.
Stepping in front of the Ranger, she looked into his eyes.
The Akota sergeant, his face twisted in anger, stared back defiantly.
She looked down to see one of her men slowly pulling himself erect with a wound to his abdomen and thigh.
She looked back toward the Ranger and took a deep breath. His scent was one of a warrior. The hair on the back of her neck rose and her mouth began to salivate even more. “You injured one of my men.”
He glared at her but did not answer.
“You injured one of my men,” she repeated, this time in perfect Akota.
“Let me go and I’ll do more than that,” replied the Ranger. “And I’ll have a good death.”
Sierra smiled. “Let him go,” she ordered to her men. “Draw your knife,” she said quietly, “and I’ll give you your good death.”
The Ranger pulled a knife from his vest.
Sierra dropped her sword and waived the man toward her. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The Ranger rushed forward.
Sierra pivoted as the Ranger thrust the blade toward her chest, allowing his arm to pass. She grabbed his wrist and stepped inside of his body, slamming her boot against the inside of the Ranger’s right knee.
The Ranger fell to the ground with a grunt and rolled away from her, the knife still in his hand.
“Come on,” growled Sierra.
The Ranger let out a roar and slashed at her with his knife.
This time he found his target, embedding the blade in Sierra’s shoulder.
Sierra let out a grunt as she grabbed the Ranger’s arm and sent a powerful blow crashing into his jaw. Before the Ranger could react, Sierra drove his arm behind his back as she crashed her foot into the back of his good knee. She released a growl that drowned out the Ranger’s groan as she pulled hard and twisted on his arm.
The snap of ligaments shot through the room and she dropped to her knees and wrapped her left arm around the top of the Ranger’s head. “Here’s your fucking good death,” she said calmly before opening her mouth wide and sinking her powerful canine teeth into his neck.
Sierra closed her eyes as the salty warmth of his blood filled her mouth and flowed down her cheeks. Sensing the Ranger’s heart stop, she opened her eyes and stood. “Is the officer still alive?” she asked, her face painted in blood.
“Yes, Commander,” replied one of her soldiers kneeling next to Major Sand.
Sierra picked up her sword and walked over to the body of the first Ranger she’d killed. Placing her boot on the neck of the Ranger, she pulled the other blade from his skull. Sheathing her weapons, she turned and walked toward the Akota major. “I’m guessing you’re not going to give us your password.”
“Go fuck yourself, Guardsman” spat Major Sand, gritting her teeth through the pain.
“Cute,” replied Sierra as she pulled the Ranger’s knife from her shoulder and dropped it to the deck. “We’re not the Elite Guard…we’re something different,” she smiled, allowing her canines to show.
“Commander!” reported one of her soldiers standing by the panel where Lieutenant Whisper had stood, “they haven’t started the self-destruct sequence yet.”
“Well that takes care of that,” replied Sierra as she drew her pistol and fired a bullet into the major’s forehead. “Alright Sergeant Ball, let’s get the data upload going,” she ordered. “Lieutenant Kawal, contact the frigate and have them send out the transports.”
“Yes, Commander,” replied both men in unison.
“Lieutenant O’Neil, casualties?” she spoke into her communications link.
‘Three wounded, meds automatically deployed for all. They are fully operational, Commander,’ reported the lieutenant. ‘All twelve accounted for and standing by for orders.’
“Very well, Lieutenant,” replied Sierra. “Search the ship…no survivors.”
‘Roger, Commander,’ came over the link.
“Are you in, Ball?” she asked.
“We’re into the facility’s comms history, Commander. Encryption override is successful.”
“Excellent, Sergeant,” replied Sierra as she wiped the blood from her cheeks with her sleeve. “Run a full system search for the names Tyler Stone, Emily Martin, or anyone from her team in any communications.”
Chapter 4
Tyler Stone sat cross-legged on the floor of his quarters, playing with Octavius. Since the failed attack on Alpha Humana, Stone had focused on supporting Mori’s recovery and getting to kno
w his son. Luckily, the Humani must have been hit hard enough to not take advantage of the failed assault.
Other than the on-going fight between the Akota and the spread of the Word in the Dark Zone, things had been stagnant enough for Stone to remain on Luta-tunkan while Mori healed. Martin and Thay had also taken care of Maxa. From what Stone could tell, the mission had not only removed the threat of Maxa but had brought Martin and Thay closer to some sort of understanding of one another. Although Thay had left to visit his clan in Iroqua territory, Stone hoped the two were now closer to being friends than enemies.
But even while he watched Octavius crawl across the floor, Stone’s happiness was tempered by the fact that he knew Astra Varus would do anything to get him back—no matter how many lives it cost.
A buzzing green light notified him someone was outside. Stone rose to his feet and activated the door to his room.
A smile came to his face when he saw Emily Martin standing at the entrance.
“Permission to enter, sir?” she asked, standing at attention.
“Come in, Emily,” he replied. “And no need for the formality. We’re not in the Guard anymore and you’re not under my command.”
Martin stepped into the room. “Just because we no longer fight for the tyranny of the First Families doesn’t mean we can’t honor the Oath, sir,” she replied. “They’ll never be able to take that from us…and as far as me being under your command…” she continued, extending a data pad.
Stone took the pad. He let out a laugh as he read the orders. “I see you’ve been given the rank of major in the Terillian Confederation.”
“I could give two shits about that, sir,” said Martin. “Keep reading.”
Another chuckled escaped Stone. “And you’ve been assigned to my staff.”
“If you approve the orders,” said Martin.
Stone scrolled to the bottom of the orders and pressed his thumb over the blank square at the bottom. The data pad beeped and the words approved flashed over the orders. “Who else is going to take you?” he said, joking.
“No one,” replied Martin flatly. “Absolutely no one.”
“Well I’ll never turn my back on you,” he replied. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Promise me,” replied Martin, her eyes showing a vulnerability Stone had rarely seen.
“Emily?”
“Promise,” she repeated, almost pleading.
He looked into her eyes. She needed him to answer.
“I promise.”
Martin broke their shared gaze, looking toward Octavius. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing well. The doctors say he is developing well but…”
“What is it, sir?”
“I know I’m going to have to leave him soon,” he sighed.
“The life of a warrior, sir,” replied Martin.
Stone let himself fall back into the chair behind him. “What if we didn’t need any more warriors?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you ever think what it will be like when we have peace…what we will do?”
Martin guffawed. “Peace?”
“Yes. Peace.”
“Peace is nothing but a lie told by tyrants and cowards,” replied Martin. “There will always be conflict…and death.”
“That’s a pretty bleak future,” replied Stone. “If that’s what you actually believe.”
“It’s not what I believe; it’s reality. When have you seen true peace?”
“But there’s always the hope—”
“As long as two animals, let alone humanoids, remain on the same planet, there will be war.” She paused. “Hell, even if one is left, they will be in conflict with plants, the weather…everything.”
“So no peace? Ever?” He began to feel sorry for her.
“The strong always dominate the weak,” she replied. “And that matters more than good or evil…good and evil are a matter of perspective.”
He could see her body tense.
“Strength is tangible…real,” she continued. “The eagle kills the rabbit. Is the eagle evil? The lion kills the deer. Is the deer somehow nobler than the lion because it isn’t aggressive? And man kills everything, including man. All of these things are a matter of strength, not good and evil.”
“That’s very Akota of you,” replied Stone.
“No,” laughed Martin. “That spiritual crap is a bunch of bullshit. Life is hard. It’s full of challenge, struggle, and death…but if you’re strong enough, maybe victory and survival.”
Stone took Octavius into his arms and let out a sigh. “When I look at Octavius, I can’t help but hope for a day when that isn’t true.” With another sigh, he placed in back on the floor to play.
“Well, sir,” replied Martin. “You can hope all you want.” She paused as she knelt down, placing her hand on the boy’s head. “Until then, you’d better raise him to be strong…”
Stone could tell Martin’s thoughts were drifting to a dark place.
“…and a fighter.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t know who to feel sorry for more—Martin because of her dark view of mankind or him because she was probably right.
“And you need to raise him Humani,” added Martin, her gaze locked on Stone again. “You can’t let these people turn him into an animal worshiping pagan…you must raise him Humani.”
Stone didn’t know how to answer. He hadn’t even thought of how he would raise Octavius. “I just want to raise him to be a good man.”
“Then teach him to be a strong man unafraid to fight for what is right.”
“But what is right?” asked Stone.
Martin pressed her hand against Stone’s chest. “What feels right in here,” she answered.
Again, he looked into her eyes. “Sometimes it hard to know.”
“Then follow the Oath,” she replied. “That’s what you taught me.”
Another flashing light drew his attention and he looked over to the communications panel at his desk.
“I’ll get it, sir,” replied Martin, activating the link. “Marshal Stone’s quarters.”
‘There is a priority message from Shirt-Wearer River,’ came a voice over the link.
“Roger,” replied Martin as she turned toward Stone. “It’s one of the Shirt-guys…they want to talk.”
“I gathered,” replied Stone. “And it’s Shirt-Wearer.”
“Yes, sir,” said Martin. “I’ll excuse myself,” she added, turning toward the exit.
“Stay where you’re at, Major,” directed Stone. “You’re on my staff now.”
Stone touched an icon on his screen and Shirt-Wearer River appeared.
“Uncle,” replied Stone. He saw Martin roll her eyes and he shot her a quick glance. “Major Martin is now on my staff and is here with me.”
“Very well, Marshal Stone. How is In’o—” River paused, realizing he’d almost used Mori’s Akota name with Martin in the room. “…Ka-itsenko Skye?”
“Slowly improving, Uncle.” Stone knew the Shirt-Wearers were aware of Mori’s status and that River was only displaying a social courtesy.
“This is good to hear. We are anxious to have her return to service.”
“Yes, Uncle; we all are.”
“I’m not,” mouthed Martin with her back turned to the communications panel.
Stone again gave her a quick glance of disapproval and returned to River. “And the reason for your call?”
“You have a new assignment, Marshal.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Martin focus on the panel. Her interest was now peaked. “What is it?” she asked, unable to hold back.
“As you know, we learned from Ka-itsenko Skye that Port Royal’s support of the Humani is much deeper than we believed. We did not want to take action prior to the attack on Alpha Humana, the Gateway Station, and Dolus. But since that operation has…ended, we have decided to deal with them.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” asked Stone.
“That will be up to you, Marshal,” replied River.
***
Gunnery Sergeant Mack sat alone at a corner table tucked away in the back of the dark Port Royal bar.
He glanced around the bar before taking a drink of his whiskey. The alcohol warmed his body as it ran down his throat and he thought back to the mercenaries that had tried to kill him weeks earlier:
“Why?” demanded Mack, holding the barrel of his pistol against the temple of the last merc left breathing.
“Fuck off,” cursed the mercenary, grimacing from his many wounds.
“No need to play the hero,” replied Mack. “You’re a businessman, not a warrior…so let’s make a deal. Tell me who sent you and I’ll let you go.”
“Right.” The merc’s laughter was cut short by another spasm of pain. “Not likely.”
“A Marine always keeps their word. I will let you go.”
“Fine,” grunted the man. “It was a ghost contract but the routing codes were Humani governmental codes.”
“Humani?” huffed Mack. “Impossible.”
“It’s true,” coughed the merc.
“Who? What Humani?” asked Mack.
“I don’t know. It’s just an account stream…but whoever it was really wanted you and the rest of your team dead.”
“The rest of the team?” After word of the attack on Alpha Humana, the team had scattered in Port Royal at the order of Lieutenant Plaxis and were told to wait for word from Martin. ‘Did Plaxis know something the others didn’t?’ wondered Mack.
“They’re all dead,” replied the merc. Between bounty hunters, contract mercs, and Elite Guard, they’ve all been eliminated. “Except you.”
Mack’s head began to spin. “Why?”
“I don’t know…I just do what I’m paid for.”
“Sorry you don’t get to collect on this one…asshole,” grunted Mack as he increased the pressure of the barrel against the merc’s temple. “
“But you said—”
The crack of Mack’s pistol cut the merc’s plea short. “I am…I’m letting you go to oblivion.”
Mack took another drink, again scanning the room. His eyes focused on two armed men as they entered the bar. He knew instantly they were bounty hunters.
