Man of War (Rebellion Book 1)

by M. R. Forbes

"We've already done it at least a hundred," Donovan replied.

  "I want to go home," Matteo said.

  "You need to man up, bro," Diaz said. "I can't believe my big brother is such a baby."

  "Screw you, Ren."

  "Shhh," Ehri said, silencing them. "Do you hear that?"

  Donovan listened. He could hear the soldiers in the woods. That was nothing new. "I don't hear anything different."

  "We need to move faster," Ehri said. "They're losing patience."

  "How do you know?"

  "Listen."

  Donovan did. "I can't hear it, whatever it is."

  "The trees are too thick for mechanized armor. They aren't too thick for pur'dahm Hunters."

  "Hunters?" Matteo asked.

  "Elite warriors. They organize in teams, and fight to the death for sport."

  "So much for civilized," Diaz said.

  Ehri didn't reply to that. "We need to move faster," she repeated.

  "Okay," Donovan said. "Let's go."

  "We aren't clear," Diaz said.

  "It doesn't matter. If we don't make it-"

  "Then what, D? What if we don't make it? General St. Martin isn't coming for at least another nine hours. Nine. We're going to be out of bolts way before then, and if we aren't it will only be because we're dead. I know you're being the strong commander, but you have to know that's true."

  "We aren't dead until we're dead," Donovan said. "Now move it, Lieutenant. That's an order."

  Diaz clenched her jaw, nodded, and got to her feet. "Fine."

  They started to run. A hail of bolts pounded the area around them, forcing them back into safety.

  "They're laying down suppressing fire to keep us pinned," Diaz said.

  "We have to try again. We don't have a choice."

  "I knew you were going to say that."

  They prepared themselves a second time. They were just about to break cover when a series of rumbling pops echoed across the mountainside. He looked over at Diaz, who was looking back at him.

  "It couldn't be," he said.

  "Those were sonic booms," Ehri said. "At least six of them."

  "Is he here already?" Diaz asked.

  "We have to get to the drop point. Now."

  The assumed arrival of the space forces gave them new energy. Donovan pulled Matteo up again, holding on as they made a run for it. He ignored the enemy fire at his back, focusing only on making it through the brush without tripping on a branch or a root. He had no idea how General St. Martin could have gotten here so fast, but they had to make it to the plateau. It was the only thing that mattered.

  They kept going, slipping through the foliage and somehow managing to make it through without being hit. They covered fifty meters, then one hundred. Donovan's legs were burning, but he didn't dare stop. The fact that he was still alive was a miracle in itself.

  They pushed through the trees and into a small clearing. It took Donovan a few seconds to realize he was standing on the plateau.

  The pur'dahm Hunters were already waiting there for them.

  "That's why they kept missing us," Diaz said, pulling up short, her breathing hard. "They were herding us here."

  Tense seconds passed as the two sides stood and stared at one another. Donovan glanced over his shoulder at the movement in the trees. A dozen clones spilled out behind them.

  "I'll go talk to them," Ehri said.

  "Why?" Donovan asked.

  It was too late. She was already ranging ahead.

  "Who speaks for you?" Ehri shouted to the pur'dahm.

  They looked different than the other bek'hai soldiers he had seen. Their black armor covered every inch of them, encasing them in an impenetrable carapace. Donovan shifted the plasma rifle in his arms. It wasn't impenetrable right now.

  "Buhr gruhmn. Orik dur Lorik."

  "Speak English, Orik dur Lorik," Ehri said.

  "I do not take commands from the lor'hai," Orik said. He reached up and tapped the side of his armor. It slid away, revealing his face. Tubes ran from his nose to the oxygen tank Donovan knew would be on his back.

  "And yet you did as I asked," Ehri replied.

  Orik's face twisted in anger. "I chose for myself. This is not your affair, Ehri dur Tuhrik. You have had your time to study the humans, as your Dahm wished, even though it cost his life."

  "Four days? What was I to learn of them in four days?"

  "You shouldn't have armed them with our weapons if you wanted more time. You shouldn't have let them kill Klurik."

  "He wasn't one of yours."

  "It matters not."

  "The Domo'dahm promised me time."

  "And you promised not to interfere."

  Donovan stared at Ehri. She was speaking as if she had been planning on joining them. How could that be if their entry into the Dread ship had been an accident?

  Unless it hadn't been an accident.

  Had she manipulated the entire thing? It seemed impossible, but if they had been spotted scouting out the transmission site, it could be that she had arranged for the clone soldiers to attack in a way that would steer them toward the elevator shaft. It could be that she had seen them enter the ship, and had arranged for Tuhrik to leave his quarters at the same time they arrived.

  "I needed a proper catalyst," Ehri said.

  "The Domo'dahm did not approve it."

  "He gave me approval when he allowed the study. Do what you must to learn what you must. Those were his exact words."

  "The Domo'dahm has always been illogical to that face," Orik said. "I don't know what he ever saw in that human, to give her such favor. Her genetics weren't even compatible."

  "I need more time," Ehri said.

  "It is over, Ehri. The human base is destroyed. The ones who were trying to escape are all dead."

  Ehri looked back at them, her eyes apologetic. Donovan shook his head, silently pleading with her not to turn them over to the Dread.

  Diaz reacted differently, whipping the plasma rifle up. "You alien bitch," she said. "We trusted you."

  The pur'dahm raised their weapons on the other side of the plateau, five rifles all pointed at Diaz.

  The entire clearing erupted.

  SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Gabriel squeezed the trigger, loosing pulse after pulse of ions at the line of Dread soldiers standing near the far side of the plateau, while a similar assault tore at the clone soldiers standing behind the rebel fighters. Captain Kim and Lieutenant Ribisi's attacks were more effective than his, the ions shredding both the stone around the clones and the clones themselves, sending them sprawling in sprays of blood and gore.

  The armored Dread weren't completely immune, the ions still powerful enough to push at them, knocking them off-balance and causing them to fall.

  Then he was past, shooting by the drop point and making a tight vector to come back around again. He didn't know if their intervention would be enough to give the resistance the upper hand. If he was quick enough, he could knock the Dread soldiers back a second time.

  "Alpha Leader, this is Alpha Four. We just lost Alpha Five."

  Gabriel felt the wrench in his heart at the sudden news.

  "I could really use some help back here."

  "Alpha Two, pick up the slack for Alpha Four," Gabriel said.

  "Yes, sir," Soon replied, breaking away.

  "The enemy assholes are up again, sir," Ribisi said.

  "Then we knock them down."

  He dropped back toward the clearing, getting visual on the alien fighters. They had reassembled, spreading apart to minimize the chance of being hit. Half of them were turning their weapons to the sky while the other half were aiming for the resistance soldiers. The one who had moved ahead of the rest was on her stomach between the two sides. He didn't know if she were dead. Had they hit her by mistake?

  He fired the ion cannon again, the pulses cutting into the line of Dread soldiers a second time. Once more, they fell away under the weight of the assault, losing their aim. He saw a
plasma bolt launch from the resistance side and hit one of the Dread in the chest.

  "Alpha Leader, this is Alpha Two. We can't shake them."

  Gabriel watched his HUD. All of the airborne targets were visible in it as red or green triangles. The greens were moving every which way, and the reds were managing to keep up despite their lesser maneuverability.

  "Alpha Three, see if you can sneak up on them. The cannons may at least disrupt their aim."

  "Yes, sir."

  The final fighter moved away, leaving him alone to finish trying to clean off the mountain. He was running out of time.

  He adjusted his flight pattern, setting up to make a third and hopefully final run.

  SEVENTY-NINE

  Donovan pushed himself to his feet, quickly scanning the line of Hunters ahead of him. They were recovering from the starfighter's second approach, preparing to attack once more.

  He ran toward Ehri. She was lying face down and motionless in the center of the clearing. Was she dead? Why was he running toward her, anyway? She had betrayed them. She had lied to them. She had used them like some kind of laboratory experiment.

  Was he going to help her or make sure she really was gone?

  Motion from the other side alerted him to the Dread soldier who had gotten back up and was now running toward Ehri as well. The one she had called Orik. Donovan fired his plasma rifle, the poorly aimed shots going wide. Orik did the same, his targeting equally poor.

  It was a race to reach her. He didn't know what the Dread was planning to do with her. What he did know was that he wanted to be the one to decide her fate. He pushed himself to run faster.

  Orik's shots were getting closer. His return fire was still no good, and he was just too damn slow. He wasn't going to make it.

  The pur'dahm reached Ehri as Donovan came to a stop, intending to retreat. He had forgotten about the rest of the Dread soldiers in his desperate run, and now he looked further ahead. Only three were still moving, keeping a low profile and shooting back at Diaz, who was covering him. He started adjusting his aim again, a sudden sense of hopelessness overwhelming him. He had been reckless. Careless. Orik stood over Ehri, the bek'hai's rifle already trained on him.

  A hand reached up from the ground. Ehri rolled over, grabbing the pur'dahm's wrist and pulling it down, bringing it into her other hand and continuing to yank on it as she shifted. The Hunter was brought off balance, and she used his momentum to get to her feet, spinning like a top and kicking him hard in the side of his bare head. The blow knocked him back a step and pulled the oxygen tube from his nostril, and she used the chance to grab his rifle, turning it in her grip and firing at point blank range before he could react.

  She shifted to face Donovan, pointing the rifle in his direction. How was she even able to use it?

  A starfighter streaked past. It didn't attack.

  "Ehri?" Donovan said. He dropped his gun, holding his arms out in submission.

  The battle seemed to pause, as both sides stopped their assault while they waited for Ehri to resolve it.

  "I'm sorry, Major," she said.

  "Me, too," he replied. He didn't know why. It seemed appropriate.

  An explosion echoed from the sky behind him. One of the starfighters, no doubt.

  "I didn't mean for this to happen," Ehri said. "I only wanted to learn about humankind. To understand in a way that none of the others do."

  "I know," Donovan said. "You started this. It's only right that you finish it."

  He spread his arms wide. He wouldn't close his eyes. He wouldn't make it that easy for her.

  "Thank you, Major," Ehri said.

  "For what?"

  "For showing me the truth."

  He didn't know what that meant.

  Not until she turned, spinning on her heel like a dancer, dropping into a crouch and firing one, two, three plasma bolts. Each one of them struck one of the pur'dahm Hunters directly in the center of the head. They dropped in a neat line.

  "I know I tricked you into coming for me," she said, looking back at him. "I wanted to learn about humanity, and in doing so, I realized it was the element of your kind that the bek'hai most sorely lack, and most desperately need. I said I would help you, Donovan. My touch is my bond."

  Donovan smiled, remembering the tingling feel of her fingers against his.

  "I shouldn't have doubted you," he said.

  "Yes, you should have."

  A soft whine rose to their left. They both turned in the direction of it, watching as the starfighter approached them.

  EIGHTY

  Gabriel gritted his teeth as the sky lit up in the distance and Lieutenant Ribisi's starfighter vanished in a storm of flame and fragments. His pilots were dying, and dying fast. They had to finish this, now.

  He was coming in fast toward the plateau, ready for one more assault. There were still a few of the Dread fighters trading shots with the resistance on the ground, and while he couldn't hurt them, he could stop their fire, maybe long enough that the soldiers could finally take them out.

  He rocketed toward them, suddenly noticing that one of the Dread warriors and one of the resistance soldiers were both up and running, converging on the body in the center of the action. Who was she, that they both thought she was so important?

  He angled the fighter, prepared to strafe the area again.

  "Alpha Leader, if you're going to land, you need to do it now," Soon said, his voice desperate. "We've got more fighters incoming."

  More? They couldn't handle two. Gabriel quit the attack, launching past the field and beginning a tight turn to get him to the plateau. He was going in, whether the fighting was over or not.

  The fighter complained at the force of his reverse, the frame shuddering against the motion, the dampeners working to keep him from passing out. He felt it all the same, ignoring it as best he could. He pointed the fighter back to the plateau and leveled out, checking the HUD. Three more Dread fighters had appeared; they were at most thirty seconds out.

  He began his descent, dropping hard and fast. He hadn't seen the action, but somehow the resistance force had won. The Dread were all motionless, and the male soldier was standing with the woman near the center of the area. He adjusted slightly to bring the fighter down right in front of them.

  Their heads turned to look at him as he approached. He nearly crashed when he saw the woman's face.

  Gabriel's heart began to pound, his mind trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. He finished his descent, tapping his control pad to open the cockpit before he had even touched down. The fighter bounced slightly before settling, and he unbuckled himself and jumped from the cockpit.

  The two people rushed over to meet him. Two more were running their direction from the other side.

  "Mom?" Gabriel said softly as they all coalesced. His hand had absently fallen to the crucifix, clutching it tightly.

  The woman's expression changed, softening slightly. She was the spitting image of his mother. There was no doubt about that. He felt a tear on the corner of his eye. Damn it, that wasn't Juliet St. Martin. He knew the Dread used people to make clones. He could barely stand the thought of what that meant for his mother's fate. How would he ever tell his father about this?

  "Captain Gabriel St. Martin?" the man asked.

  Gabriel nodded.

  "My name is Major Donovan Peters." He held out the alien rifle. "I brought you this."

  Gabriel was numb as he reached out and took it, his eyes having trouble escaping the clone. He had never met his mother. He had never had the chance to see her in flesh and bone. Maybe she was a copy, but at least he could take this memory and juxtapose it with the others.

  "Thank you," Gabriel said, forcing himself to keep it together. "We'll get this back to our ship and handed off to our scientist. How can we contact you, once we reverse the engineering?"

  "The resistance headquarters are in New York. If you can, fly over there and send a message, just like you did before. Some
one there should hear it."

  Gabriel was about to say something to the clone. What was she doing, helping the rebels, anyway? How had they managed to get one of them on their side? There was no time to speak or wonder. The Dread fighters were closing in.

  "I have to go," he said. "It was an honor to meet you, Major." He passed his eyes over the others. "It was an honor to meet all of you. You need to clear the area; there are more Dread fighters on their way."

  "Yes, sir," Major Peters said. Gabriel didn't understand why. He was the ranking officer.

  "Good luck, Captain," the clone said. "Be safe."

  Gabriel felt his heart about to burst anew to hear her voice. He clenched his teeth and nodded, and then grabbed the wing of the fighter and pulled himself up. He sat down, placing the rifle between his legs, getting the starfighter back into the sky before the cockpit had sealed.

  "Alpha Two, report," Gabriel said, firing his thrusters and launching away from the site.

  There was no reply.

  "Alpha Four, report. Bale, are you there?"

  Again, no reply.

  It didn't mean they were dead. He hadn't heard any explosions.

  They had the alien weapon.

  Now they had to escape.

  EIGHTY-ONE

  Captain Kim and Lieutenant Bale weren't dead after all. He spotted them as they streaked upward, climbing vertically from a nearby river valley. The topography had interfered with both the HUD and the comm system.

  A single Bat was rising behind them, taking a less steep vector as it tried to line up a shot.

  The other Dread fighters were almost on them, their thrusters visible in the distance against the night sky.

  "Alpha Squadron, this is Alpha Leader. We have the package. It's time to evac."

  "Roger, Alpha Leader," they replied.

  "Did you see? We managed to dunk one," Soon said.

  "Good work," Gabriel replied. "Let's break away from our new friends and get ourselves home."

  "Yes, sir."

  Gabriel changed direction, ascending in a vector that would put him into formation with the others as they climbed away from the planet. He checked his power supply, noting that he had burned more than half of his reserves. It was enough to get him back to the Magellan as long as he didn't waste any more energy on the ion cannon.