Triton: The Descendants War Book 1

by John Walker

  The invaders can’t get into the bunker, Alon thought. They’ll be safe until we bring back some reinforcements. Or even better weapons. Hell, maybe those pricks will just leave and we can let them out without any trouble. Regardless, at least he got to live. He hurried after the soldiers as they vacated the command center.

  They weren’t even halfway down the hall when an explosion made him yelp. Something went off behind them, a powerful charge that shook the floor. Heat rushed down after them then dissipated within seconds. He moved over to Hans again, keeping pace with the man so they could speak.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Hans huffed. “We destroyed the computers. We don’t want whoever that is to get data they don’t deserve.”

  “So you blew it up?”

  “Best way to keep something out of someone’s hands,” Hans replied, “turn it to dust. Hurry now. We need to make good time if we want to rendezvous with the shuttle.”

  And leave everyone behind. Alon didn’t blame them. He couldn’t think of an alternative. We’ll figure it out, guys. I swear!

  ***

  Ryssa paced away from the door. She bumped into someone, crying out as she spun in place. Mallen, the head administrator, scowled at her, arms folded over his chest. She stared at him with wide eyes, unable to speak. He’d start in on her soon enough without her digging the hole any deeper.

  “Did I hear you turn the military away?” Mallen asked. “Are you insane? What are you thinking, Ryssa? We can’t stay here!”

  “They don’t have the situation contained!” Ryssa shouted. An explosion made her yelp again. “What was that?”

  “The computers were just destroyed.” Mallen rubbed his eyes. “Do you know what that means?”

  “No…”

  “That they’re leaving us here, you idiot!” Mallen clenched his fists. “You may have doomed us. I hope you realize that.”

  Metallic taps at the door drew their attention. She advanced, tapping the panel so they could see what was happening. Two men stood there in black armor. They seemed to be applying something to the door. Neither looked at the camera nor paid any attention to the fact that the panel outside lit up.

  “What are they doing?”

  Mallen sighed. “Possibly putting charges on the door.” He grabbed her arm, dragging her back to the common area. “Listen up! The enemy is attempting to breach the bunker! We might not have long. Get weapons. Anything you can find to defend yourselves. Hurry up!” He waved at them. “Ryssa, you too. This is your fault, at least you can hold a gun.”

  “I… I haven’t used a weapon in months!”

  “Too bad for you. Time for a refresher.” Mallen left her alone. She didn’t follow.

  Ryssa moved over to one of the sofas, crouching beside it. There’s no way they’ll get in. They can’t breach those walls. It’s impossible! Absolutely impossible! The words kept dancing through her head, but she couldn’t believe them. Not after what they’d already seen. The assault on the structures outside… the bombardment from above…

  Why didn’t they shoot this building? That part bothered her the most. They had specifically left it alone when they could’ve easily leveled it… possibly before anyone had escaped to the bunker. I don’t really want to find out. Please, God. Don’t let them break in. She had no illusions they could fend off the enemy.

  Not if the militia all died fighting them.

  The rest of the command center crew returned with rifles, aiming them at the passage leading to the door. Ryssa cringed, tensing every muscle in her body. Tears burned her eyes. She felt utterly helpless… abandoned… isolated… on the verge of death. No amount of wishing or praying brought her any comfort.

  Nearly a minute passed without incident. Ryssa looked around at the others. Not one of them loosened up nor took their eyes from the passage leading to the door. “Maybe… maybe they weren’t putting explosives on there after all.” Her comment may not have been loud enough to be heard but she kept talking anyway. “Maybe they’re going away.”

  Mallen glared at her. “Where the hell is your rifle? Didn’t I tell you…”

  The walls and floor trembled, lights immediately winked out as an explosion made Ryssa’s ears ring. She screamed though she only felt the vibration in her chest. She couldn’t hear anything.

  Rifles went off around her, people firing into the darkness. The muzzle flashes made the walls glow yellow, the stark color reminding her they were in a metal box underground… like a coffin. Tiny sparks burst from the armor of tall men standing before them. They didn’t move, not for a long moment, before leveling their weapons.

  “No!” Ryssa shouted, holding her hands up. She stood, waving over her head, screaming, begging for her life. Red light replaced the dull, white from the rifle shots. The scent of cooked meat made her gag. She dropped to her knees, retching until her nose burned and her muscles felt like jelly.

  A fire burned nearby, giving off just enough light to see by. Ryssa opened her eyes, turning to the left. She stared into the dead eyes of Mallen… his severed head lying at an unnatural angle. Pieces of the others littered the area, melted off in the assault by the invaders. She turned to look up at the nearest as he approached.

  “Please…” Ryssa muttered. “Please, I don’t want to die! You don’t have to do this! Please!” She clasped her hands together, trembling violently. “I… I’ll do… whatever you want… please just… don’t…”

  Two of the other invaders came to stand before her in a semi-circle. The three of them lifted their weapons, taking aim. Ryssa closed her eyes, screaming with every ounce of terror that consumed her soul. She cowered, holding her hands up as if to ward them off… to show them total submission.

  A high-pitched hum broke through her cries, a sound that pierced her ears straight through to her brain. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t stop trembling… not even when the heat pierced her arms, burst her chest, opened her body wide. Pain didn’t register in her brain. Attempts to breathe convinced her of the stark reality… she was done.

  Death followed her as she collapsed to the ground. She peripherally recognized her left arm was no longer attached. A gurgling cough signified the end. The last thing Ryssa saw as she faded into darkness was the dead eyes of Mallen, staring through her. Footsteps walked away, but those sounds no longer mattered.

  She was gone.

  ***

  Gunny glanced back at the sound of a blast. An explosion rocked the building, powerful enough to make a window burst outward. That surprised him. Those were supposed to be made of transparent steel, but he figured he merely witnessed yet another attempt to save money.

  I guess it wouldn’t have mattered if they spent it. This place didn’t stand a chance.

  His HUD showed no sign of life in the immediate area. Not in the farms and not anywhere nearby. Those people back in the complex also winked out. The explosion may have done them in but Gunny doubted it. The more likely situation involved the invaders going in and tearing them up; murdering them all.

  And that stupid, scared girl ensured none of them had a chance.

  At least they had Alon with them. One person who saw the enemy might be able to shed some light on their tactics. Providing they all made it back to the ship alive. He had his doubts about their chances considering what he’d seen and heard thus far.

  “I think we’ve got some company,” Hans said. “Scans are picking up a large group on our tail.”

  Gunny glanced back at the building. They managed a reasonable head start, putting them at a good three hundred yards away. Still, depending on the weapons of their opponents that might not be far enough. He motioned for his people to get low. Once they crouched, he waved at them to go even lower.

  “Use the grass,” Gunny said, “when the shuttle’s closer, we can make a break for it.” He turned to Alon. “You saw our weapons shoot these things. What happened?”

  “The armor,” Alon replied, “our bullets bounced right off. Only g
renades seemed to do anything, and even then, it didn’t seem like the guy got particularly hurt.”

  “We need turrets,” Hans muttered.

  “That might be.” Gunny hummed. He directed them to move, but to keep it slow. “If you hurry you’ll make the grass shake. The last thing you want to do is give away your position. Take it slow. We just have to buy ourselves time while the shuttle comes back around.” He checked the ETA from Andrews.

  Two minutes. Gunny sighed. That’s a hell of a long time to be down here with the enemy advancing on us. Especially if this Alon guy is right about our gear. Yes, their weapons were technically more powerful but not dramatically so. They still discharged bullets, and if those couldn’t pierce the armor, engaging them would be suicide.

  Deens screamed. Gunny’s eyes flicked to the life signs of his men on the HUD. The man was gone. Dead in an instant. He glanced back in time to see red beams cutting through the grass, tearing at their heels. A couple choices bounced around in his head… none of them pleasant, all of them dangerous.

  Staying put wasn’t an option. Chances were good the enemy had scans as well which allowed them to see through the foliage. Running also seemed like a bad idea. They’d have to take evasive maneuvers to remain moving targets and to survive like that for another ninety seconds felt… well, completely insane.

  But I don’t see another option. “Up, men!” Gunny shouted. “Zag your asses off until Andrews gets here!” He led the way, bellowing as he rushed off at a sharp angle then cut back the opposite direction. Every five paces he picked a direction on a whim just so long as it kept him ahead of his opponents. We can do this!

  “Andrews!” Gunny grunted the name as he ran. Blasts cut the grass behind him, catching it on fire. He huffed, turning again. “You need to hurry the hell up! We are under heavy fire!”

  Some of his other men returned fire, blasting away at their pursuers. Gunny wanted to see the results, to witness whether or not their weapons truly made no impact on the armor. Their cries of surprise told the story for him. They must not have believed Alon. Truth be told, that wasn’t a bad choice, as the man did seem a little shady.

  Gunny fired his weapon as he cut to the right, spraying a good thirty rounds downrange at their pursuers. He saw it with his own eyes, bullets bouncing off the armor as if he had blasted them with paintballs. A grenade went off near them, but whoever threw it didn’t get it close enough to make a difference.

  More life signs winked out on his scanner. He was down to four people. Andrews came roaring in less than a mile off. Time on the scanner showed less than twenty seconds before he’d be in position. Gunny felt a burning pain in his left leg. He went down, a fall that probably saved his life as a beam whizzed by over him, scorching his back from proximity.

  Hans seemed to still be alive, but all the others were done. Gunny crawled as the shuttle opened fire, turrets blazing with their familiar high-pitched pops. Those beams seemed to do the trick or at least they stopped the assault from the enemy. He tried to look, but the grass was too tall to see through while prone.

  A strong hand grabbed the scruff of his armor, dragging him toward the shuttle. It was Alon. He didn’t have a weapon anymore but he seemed to be carrying Hans over one shoulder while dragging Gunny. That put him in a different category… at least in the soldier’s eyes. He thought he might’ve just been a coward before.

  Perhaps he still was, but at least in that moment, the man stepped up and risked his own lives to save others. I’ll owe him one if we get out of here.

  The shuttle set down. Andrews shouted into the microphone, but it distorted too much to make out the words. Gunny knew what he wanted. He was telling them to hurry… as if they were having a stroll. He didn’t bother to respond. The pain in his leg turned numb. He began to wonder if he had lost the limb… he refused to look.

  Firing his weapon wildly behind them, it clicked as he spent the magazine. Dropping it, he reached for another. Gunny’s vision swam. He struggled to remain conscious, fighting through the pain. Enemy ships lifted off, dark boxes against the blue sky. Alon got them on the ramp.

  “Take off!” Alon shouted the words, crying out again and again to get moving. He dropped Hans next to Gunny then slammed the panel to seal them in. “We’re on board! Door’s closed! Go! Go! Go!”

  Gunny felt the ship lift off. He fought to sit up… struggled against the pain but eventually succumbed. Letting his head tap the floor, he turned to Hans. The man was still breathing, but otherwise didn’t move. I think we barely survived. He blinked at the HUD… couldn’t make out the tiny letters.

  The only thing that remained clear were the flat lines by each name of his team… all the men gone. Cut down during their run. Murdered by the invaders with the most advanced technology Gunny had ever seen… or even thought of, for that matter. Such equipment changed the game of combat.

  And we’re on the wrong side of this revelation. God help us… we’re going to need it.

  Chapter 3

  Red lights flickered on the hulls of the enemy ships, throwing out thin lines in their direction. The destroyers took the brunt of the assault. The Haley’s shields lit up briefly before winking out. Blobs of orange flame burst from long, melted lines of hull. They drifted forward, as if on the verge of spinning then exploded.

  Debris flew in every direction, some of it entering the planet’s atmosphere while other parts drifted off into deep space. The force of their reactor going up threw it out there. Several smaller pieces connected with the Triton though the shields protected them from harm. The second destroyer went mere moments later, torn apart by a heavy barrage.

  “Evasive maneuvers!” Rudy shouted. “Get us and above those things!”

  That’s not going to help, Titus thought. The bristles over the enemy hull, all beam weapons… extremely powerful and apparently located in such a way as to keep them safe from any direction. They were offensive platforms, turrets with thrusters. He wondered if their shields had the potential to hold them off. Ours are stronger but will they be enough?

  Ronin took the ship high, giving them altitude on the vessels before tilting their nose in their direction. He opened fire again, blasting away with everything they had. Enemy shields reacted to the attacks but only briefly, flaring up but quickly dimming again. Scans showed their energy readings remained off the charts.

  We’re not doing a damn thing to them. Titus turned to his comm, reaching out to the ground crew. “You guys don’t have much time to get out of there. Andrews, are you on your way back yet?”

  “I’m in the midst of coming back for them!” Andrews shouted. “There was some kind of trouble. A big ass explosion in the colony. I don’t know who’s alive and… wait. I’m seeing all kinds of activity. Muzzle flashes. Strange flickering lights. Sir, they’re reaching out to me. I need to go.”

  “Get them back here as quickly as you can,” Titus said. “Captain, we need to plan our retreat. The shuttle’s coming back with our people. Recommend we plot a rendezvous using the curve of the planet to provide some cover from the enemy weapons. We can keep out of harm’s way…”

  “We can’t outrun beams,” Rudy said, “and we’ve still got a job to do.”

  “Sir, with all due respect…”

  “Hold tight!” Jane’s shout interrupted him. A full attack slapped them in the bow. It didn’t cause them to shake, not like they were struck with anything but instead, power flickered. Lights went dim before coming back on strong. Consoles went down completely then came back up. “What the hell…?”

  “Report!” Rudy shouted. “Violet, what was that?”

  “We were hit by the enemy’s beam weapon,” Violet explained, “a lot of them. Dropped our shields down to forty percent… probably would’ve knocked them out completely if we hadn’t been moving. Half of their attacks whiffed. We’re lucky. The energy readings from those weapons are just as wild as their shields.”

  “All the more reason—” Titus started the comment as a se
cond barrage slammed into them. Even while in motion they were tagged by twice the force of the first attack.

  Ronin’s console burst into flame. Fragments cut through his suit, bringing a strangled cry out of him as he slumped in his seat, straining against the safety straps. A fire broke out in a panel behind them, filling the air with the stink of burnt wire and electricity. Rudy shouted commands but as more systems popped around them, his voice was drowned out.

  “We… shields…” Violet’s report didn’t make it over the carnage. The HUD on the viewscreen flickered off so it became little more than a glorified window. As the tactical programs went offline, so too did their weapons and likely defenses as well.

  Titus checked his screen. Fortunately, he still had power. Sensors throughout the ship showed different systems offline. Key parts remained. Life support, engines, and artificial gravity continued to function for the moment. Shields dropped but recharged back to eight percent already, meaning the cast arrays remained intact.

  That might save us. As the sound died down, Rudy continued shouting.

  “Jane, get us moving! Now! Pull us away from the targets!”

  “Belay that,” Titus countered, “take us closer to the planet, Jane. Maximum speed.”

  “What’re you doing?” Rudy glared at him. “We have to withdraw.” He coughed several times, leaning into his straps. Blood flecked his lips, covering his hand. Part of his console smoked. He’d taken shrapnel to the chest, possibly from Ronin’s terminal. “We have to… get back…”

  “If we don’t put something between us and them, they’ll finish us off in short order.” Titus turned back to Jane. His shoulder stung but he refused to even look. Ignoring the injury, however bad, was the only way he’d get through the next few minutes. “Fly erratically. Violet, redirect power from artificial gravity to the rear cast arrays.”

  “That will make movement unpleasant,” Violet said.

  “I think we’d rather be uncomfortable than dead.” Titus watched the viewscreen. “Can we get a rearview?” The image changed, showing the two vessels. They hadn’t started an intercept course quite yet, which gave him some hope.