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Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins

Page 26

by Linda Andrews


  Bei smiled as his wife taught him. “She’s just sleeping. Let the wounded use the space.”

  The girl nodded and scampered up the ladder with the others.

  The Syn-En emerged from the engine rooms. Each laid their wounded civilian burden on the benches. Doc, Queens, and Brooklyn slid down the ladder and landed on the deck. The two medics broke out the portable surgical units.

  Doc sent the rest of the Syn-En upstairs to patch minor wounds. He ran his diag beam over Nell. “Sleeping. Nothing is wrong with her.”

  “And Apollie?” Bei sank into a corner as the shuttle rocked.

  “The Skaperian will recover.”

  The Starflight pilots fired at the torpedoes targeting the life pods.

  Richmond reported in from the first ship, Admiral I’m out of ammo. Preparing to eject bridge and head for the dreadnaught.

  I just blew my last wad, Richmond. Portland checked in. Give me a minute and I’ll join you on the chariot ride. I think between the two of us, we can convince the Bug-uglies to crawl back under their rock.

  Don’t make me wait for you, Portland. Richmond waited for his authorization to separate.

  Bei merged with the CIC, preparing to pilot the remains of his shuttle dirtside. If there was any other way… But they had to convince the dreadnaught to leave, even if he had to lose to of his men in the process. You are cleared for separation, Richmond.

  Tell Sanjay… Her avatar swiped her eyes at the mention of her boyfriend. He knows already, but make certain he gets my last video file.

  Portland sent his request for separation. Don’t start leaking, Ensign. You’re gonna be a star. Or at least light up the night sky.

  Bei authorized the second request.

  The crew compartment rattled as the bridge separated then smoothed out while impulse engines guided them to the landing zone on the planet. He locked in coordinates close to Davena’s village. If they had to run for cover, the civilians wouldn’t have to travel far. Save me a seat at the bar when you get to the other side.

  Take your time in coming, Admiral. Richmond kissed a private document and sent it to Bei.

  Aye, Admiral. Portland had no final words to pass on, no one special to remember him. I’ve heard the beer on the other side tastes like piss.

  Understood. Bei prepared to archive their avatars. They would not be forgotten. A status report blipped on his periphery. He tapped into the systems. The America hadn’t given up fighting yet. He scanned her.

  Captain Amazon grinned at him from cyberspace. You know, Admiral, something your wife said has stuck in my head for the longest time.

  She has that habit. Bei often replayed her words to understand exactly why she made sense when she defied logic.

  The America was a good ship. I think she should go out with a bang. Since the dreadnaught isn’t very easy to maneuver, I think we can get the old girl close enough to do some damage. Captain Amazon diverted power to the oxygen scrubbers. What do you think?

  I think if you flood the reactors, then we’ll have a pretty nice bomb. Bei bypassed the remaining safety protocols and sent the flood of oxygen to the fusion reactors. He reset the seals to melt at a low temperature. Now we just need a delivery system. And he knew just the two pilots to do it. Richmond and Portland, instead of plowing into the dreadnaught, I want you to shove the America at the enemy dreadnaught.

  Richmond’s avatar reanimated. I think there’s enough of the America left to push on.

  Not if I find it first. Portland swerved toward the aft of the America.

  The dreadnaught lumbered toward high Surlatian orbit, targeting the life pods.

  Each shot shimmered near the hulls. None of the life pods reported damage.

  Nell twitched. Fermites buzzed her hands.

  His wife was busy working even in her sleep. Bei calculated the appropriate trajectory and sent it to his pilots.

  Portland and Richmond landed their craft on the hull of the America and pushed the burning wreckage at maximum burn. The transport creaked as she altered course.

  After double-checking his calculations, Bei sent his orders. Ten more seconds of burn then break away.

  Copy that, Richmond and Portland chorused.

  Bei counted down.

  Amazon backed out of the CIC.

  Bei waited. Six. Five.

  The dreadnaught focused her firepower on one life pod. Heat turned the escape vehicle red. Aside from being shaken, the craft remained intact.

  Four. Three.

  Richmond pinged him. Admiral, I’m registering flack coming from my six.

  Bei swore. He did not need another enemy to fight.

  I can confirm, Admiral. Portland sent a package with the sensor data. Breaking away in two…One.

  Bei registered the pilots altered flight path and detonated the oxygen built up around the America’s reactor. Debris hurtled toward the dreadnaught, scoring multiple direct hits. Guns fell silent. Lasers blinked off-line.

  God damn it, Bei. Security Chief Frankfort Rome’s blond avatar materialized in the CIC. I hauled ass, breaking several speed records to get here, and you have to hog all the fun. Did you leave anything for me to shoot or blow up?

  Nice to see the cavalry. Bei signaled for Richmond and Portland to reattach to the Starflight’s crew compartment.

  I didn’t bring the cavalry. I brought a fucking army. Rome sent images of the view behind his Orion-class cruiser.

  Ships of every size and class, representing nearly every registered sentient race in the galaxy, raced behind him. All were flying with weapons hot and heading for the dreadnaught.

  The Founders’ ship turned tail and sped for the opposite worm hole.

  Can I chase him? Please, I’ve been good. Rome’s avatar clasped his hands and fell to his knees. I haven’t shot anything in months. I’ll even tell your namesake good things about you.

  You named your son, Charles. Bei authorized the pursuit.

  Well, I would have named him after you but your name sucks. Rome faded away as he and another Orion-ship chased after the dreadnaught.

  Nell rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Is it over?”

  The war had just begun. But the Syn-En and Neo-Sentient Alliance had scored a victory. “For now.”

  “Beijing… Nell… Are you certain he said to push the button to talk?” Davena’s voice piped through the ship’s com. “Doc? Oh, release it now? Why didn’t you just say?”

  “Davena? Are you alright?” Doc’s concern bounced off the bulkheads. “Did any of the Scraptors get through?”

  “We are fine, but we wanted to catch you before you left. The Meek have given us a sign. They are telling us to go with you.”

  Nell grinned. “Told you I fulfilled my potential.”

  She kissed his jaw then grabbed his head and angled his face for a proper kiss.

  “I never doubted it.”

  Chapter 36

  Blind from his injuries, Groat sat on the floor of the cell. Even in the brig, located deep in the bowels of his ship, he detected the groan and whine of metal. The stress of the wormhole tore at his dreadnaught. A battleship Mopus had used to start a war.

  A war the stinky politico planned to blame on Groat.

  His severed eyestalks twitched as footsteps sounded on the metal deck.

  “It’s done.” Tridit growled.

  Cold armor skimmed Groat’s hand. A round cylinder pressed into his palm. His mandibles twitched. A spare eyestalk. Reaching up, he unscrewed the damaged one from his helmet. Pain nailed his skull, but he ignored it. Warriors used their aches to kill and maim. “And?”

  “The Scraptors are standing united behind you. Commander Obko is bringing the evidence against the stinky politico to the Commerce Board. He plans to demand you be made Commander of the Fleet.”

  Groat screwed in his eyestalk. The bars of his cell came into focus.

  Tridit stared at him. He, too, was missing an eye. “What are your orders?”

  “Follow Mopus’s d
irection.” Groat chucked his damaged eye into the waste hole in the center of the cell. Dark stains blotted the walls and floor. Chains and manacles dangled from the restraining bar overhead. The fetid smell of waste and decay permeated the metal. He memorized the scent. “Let the politico think he has won. I want to see the shock on his lime-green face when he realizes his plans have come to naught.”

  Tridit rubbed his pinscher stub. “We shall have our revenge.”

  Groat nodded. Yes, they would both have their revenge. He would make it his first rule of combat.

  Humans would receive no warning.

  Just death. Painful, excruciating death.

  Chapter 37

  “Even I would understand this sign.” Nell leaned forward in the copilot’s seat. Resting her arms on the helm, she stared out the portholes. The shuttle skimmed over browning pines and yellow rivers. Black ash piled in drifts along the broken ruins of buildings.

  The fermites were restoring the planet to the way it really was. The way the Founders had transformed it in their efforts to purge the world of the Plague and hide all evidence that they created the deadly disease.

  Bei circled the pillar. The wheat fields at its base dissolved in a twinkle. Leveling out, he headed toward a green belt fringing a far mountain range. Along the ridge, towering pines browned and decayed as their shuttle approached.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate this time alone with you, but why did you choose this depressing site?” She reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “We had a nice, cozy cabin.”

  War thickened the air. Pieces of the America streaked across the horizon. His eyes had been dark since yesterday, when Rome arrived with the cavalry.

  “We’ve had a busy twenty-four hours.”

  The shuttle slowed as they neared the tree line.

  “That’s an understatement.” Twenty-four hours ago, she’d battled the Plague to save him and the other Syn-En. Twelve hours ago, they’d been in a fight for their existence. But they had won. Barely, but she’d take the victory.

  “I thought we’d spend the next hour alone.” He glanced at her. His almond-shaped eyes were bright blue on a white background.

  They really were alone. Her stomach tightened. “It’s going to be a long war, isn’t it?”

  “We have seventy-two more allies than we did yesterday.” He landed the shuttle in a clearing.

  Green grass swayed around the craft. The hum of the engines rippled across the lagoon. A checkered table cloth flapped on a picnic table. Tiny umbrellas stuck out of pineapples. A silver antennae rose from a rectangular AM radio. Behind it, a hammock swung between two coconut palms. The door to a grass hut stood open.

  “It’s not a deserted isle, but it’s just ours for the next sixty minutes.” The engines whined into silence. He tugged her to her feet. “And we have pie. Coconut cream and chocolate.”

  Tears stinging her eyes, Nell threw her arms around his neck and pressed as close as she could against him. Tomorrow was uncertain territory, but they had today. Right now. And they had each other. “It’s paradise.”

  Thank you for purchasing a copy of Syn-En: Plague World.

  Currently available:

  The Syn-En Solution

  Syn-En: Culture Clash

  Syn-En: Registration

  Coming Christmas 2014

  Syn-En: Pillar World— Admiral Beijing York and his cyborgs are losing the war. With the Founders conquering world after world, desperate measures are called for. Preparing to make the ultimate sacrifice, he and his wife, Nell Stafford, set out on a mission that could turn the tide of battle.

  Instead they captured by the Meek, a race of tremendous power and ability, willing to join their cause. Is this new ally an answered prayer or a deal with the Devil?.

  If you’re interested I have other scifi stories available:

  www.LindaAndrews.net/id16.html

  Plus these with a touch of romance:

  www.LindaAndrews.net/id15.html

  I’m also on twitter @LindaAndrews

  And facebook: www.facebook.com/LindaAndrews

  And have a blog where I post free chapters and updates about the sequels: LindaAndrews.wordpress.com

  About the Author:

  Linda Andrews lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her husband, three children and a menagerie of domesticated animals. While she started writing a decade ago, she always used her stories to escape the redundancy of her day job as a scientist and never thought to actually combine her love of fiction and science. DOH! After that Homer Simpson moment, she allowed the two halves of her brain to talk to each other. The journeys she’s embarked on since then are dark, twisted and occasionally violent, but never predictable. If you’ve loved one of her most demented creations so far, she’d love to hear from you at lindaandrews at lindaandrews dot net.

  Contents

  Title page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  About the Author:

 

 

 


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