* * *
Jason entered the bridge and scanned the occupants.
Orion caught his eye. “Everyone get off all right?”
“Fine. Where the hell’s Ricket?”
“Been meaning to talk to you about that. He never returned to the Minian, Cap. I tracked his fighter … his last known coordinates were near the planet … Harpaign. Anything entering that world’s atmosphere is pretty much impossible to track. I’m sure he’s fine, though … probably needs a new ride.”
“Damn … I remember. Actually saw him and that beat up fighter heading off toward the planet … what the hell’s he up to?”
Orion pointed up to the display. “Captain, the fleet … it’s on the move.”
Jason took a seat in the command chair, absorbing the quickly changing dynamics in space.
“Incoming missiles! One thousand and counting. Look to be coming from the Parlek Orion warships.”
Jason watched their incoming trajectory on a newly added logistical display segment. He saw the Minian’s positioning, sitting approximately midpoint within the fleet of two hundred Allied warships. Millions of miles away, he saw the larger fleet of Sahhrain and Parlek Orion warships heading right for them.
“How much time do we have before the missiles strike?”
“Thirty seconds.”
The tiny missile icons blinked and then disappeared. “What the hell just happened, Gunny?”
She continued to work at her console … her hands quickly moving across the board. She looked up, concerned. “They’re cloaked … gone dark … sensors don’t see them?”
“I thought Bristol fixed that!”
“Only the Parlek Orion warships …”
Jason continued to stare up at the display. A thousand inbound warheads would be finding their targets within the next few seconds. Nan’s departing words replayed in his mind … please … come home … just this once, listen to me.
* * *
Ricket had spent hours looking for the habitat portal to no avail. Instead, he discovered other writings, albeit smaller, on engraved walls and tablets. He was well aware now that there were other ancient ruins, where both Blues and Sahhrain societies had once lived, at multiple locations around the planet. Many were buried beneath the surface of Harpaign.
He checked the scrambled, nonsensical readings one more time. Without use of functional data from his HUD, or his internal sensors, it wasn’t possible to locate the portal. Simple as that. Ricket sat down upon a larger segment of crumbled column. His eyes looked upward, toward where he guesstimated the current position of the Minian and Allied fleet to be. How do I contact them?
He wondered, at first, if his eyes were playing tricks on him. All so faint—nearly indecipherable against the dreary backdrop of Harpaign’s dark gray sky—were tiny reflections. Hundreds of them arced from high above to a distant location on the world’s surface, many miles away. Ricket stood and looked toward the horizon but could see nothing there—too far away.
He checked his suit’s power levels—he’d been using his suit’s power reserves nonstop—phase-shifting often and discharging his integrated wrist plasma weapons a dozen times to clear away subterranean obstacles. His suit’s power reserves were barely holding at five percent. Ricket eyed the distant horizon again and shrugged. I’m not doing any good standing around here. He set the phase-shift coordinates for fifty miles’ distance and flashed away.
He’d misjudged the coordinates by a mile … maybe two. He phase-shifted again. Closer now, Ricket watched as spherical drones, each highly reflective, descended from high above in a constant stream. One after another they approached the surface below, slowed, and quickly joined row-upon-row formations of other identical-looking drones. He counted fifteen hundred, as many more still dropped from the sky.
No less than twenty Sahhrain warships were haphazardly parked nearby as well. Sahhrain warriors were filing out from one of the vessels and heading off toward a massive, mostly intact, rock archway.
“What do we have here?” Ricket asked aloud, using his HUD to magnify the distant landscape. The vessel closest to the archway was instantly recognizable … the Assailant.
Startled, Ricket first felt the hot wash of thrusters above before looking up and seeing the spacecraft quickly descending. He was directly beneath it. Ricket checked his HUD—suit power levels were at zero. Phase-shifting no longer an option.
He ran.
Chapter 45
Dacci System
The SpaceRunner, Entering Harpaign Atmosphere
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Leon quickly realized nav-sensors were useless here. As soon as they entered the atmosphere he switched over, manually navigating the SpaceRunner to the provided planet coordinates. In the misty-gray swirls of fog hugging the surface of Harpaign below, he spotted the Assailant, parked near an old archway. Here and there he saw ruins—several freestanding pillars, a low, crumbling wall, and multiple piles of marble-like stone.
Lowering his ship’s landing struts, he slowly settled onto the surface, then shut down the ship’s drive. He left the pilot’s seat and headed up the stairs, where he found everyone waiting for him in the main cabin.
“It’s show time,” he said. “Everyone know what’s expected of them?”
There were nods all around.
Stalls held up his bound wrists. “You’ll need to release my hands.”
Leon looked over to Rizzo, who obviously wasn’t keen on the idea. Reluctantly, he stepped forward and removed the electronic bindings. He whispered something into Stalls’ ear before stepping back away.
Hanna, looking out one of the side observation windows, observed, “We’ve got a welcoming committee coming.”
All eyes went to Boomer. Leon still was having a hard time believing the entire mission hinged on one little girl’s ability to confront and immobilize the Sahhrain leader. Perhaps he didn’t fully understand things … but, somehow, it just didn’t seem right.
Boomer initialized her battle suit and looked up at Rizzo through her helmet’s visor. Once again he instructed, “Remember, kid … you’ll need to get him off by himself, away from his men. Once you immobilize him … even for a few seconds, I’ll be able to bring him down.” Rizzo lifted the muzzle of his multi-gun to emphasize his point.
“You’re going to kill him?” she asked.
“That’ll be up to him. I’m ready to, if it comes to that.”
Boomer glanced around at the cabin’s occupants, took in a deep breath, and nodded. For the first time, she seemed nervous and unsure of herself. Leon gave her an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. “Watch yourself out there, Boomer.”
She flashed away.
Leon turned to Hanna. “You’ll need to stay on board—out of your husband’s sight, until Lord Shakrim is dealt with.” He walked to the back of the compartment and slid open a door-sized panel, which provided access into a hidden compartment. “We won’t encourage them to go anywhere other than the hold area below, especially since this posh upper deck wouldn’t jive very well with the ship’s phony, old-wreck-looking exterior. Just in case you need a place to lay low, there’s enough room in there to be comfortable … at least for a while. Bristol and the mecher will keep you company.”
Hanna looked over to Trommy5. “I don’t suppose you have a deck of cards on board?”
* * *
Leon, Stalls, and Rizzo, slinging his multi-gun over his shoulder, exited the SpaceRunner and hurried down the gangway, single-file. A welcoming party was waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp.
Leon took in the three tall Sahhrain warriors and the sole human. Wearing leather breastplates, which exposed well-muscled arms, it was clear none had an ounce of extra fat anywhere on him. The human, with an eye patch, was most assuredly Hanna’s husband; he was a foot shorter, wearing a silver breastplate, and was no less an imposing figure. Although each was equipped with an enhancement shield, only the three Sahhrain held the shafts of long spears in their
grasp. A gust of wind swirled around them and Leon caught the pungent, sour smell of body odor. Physically fit, sure … but these guys reek to high heaven.
Stalls stepped forward, his palms spread wide before him. His smile looked authentic as he approached them. “My good friend … how have you been, Ridert?”
The human did not return Stalls’ smile. “You will address me as Commander Douville, Captain Stalls.”
“Of course. Commander Douville, it is. We have your delivery … you’ll need a hover cart to transport the barrels from the hold.”
Leon watched the human’s expression of mild disinterest turn to contempt. “Enough of this ruse … we know why you are here.” Ridert gestured to the others with the wave of one hand. “Take them!”
Leon wasn’t totally surprised by this less than cordial reception. They’d expected just such a possible scenario. Several hours earlier, Rizzo reviewed the procedure involved in initializing Leon’s battle suit from the small SuitPac device he wore on his belt.
Leon dove to his right, even as he felt his battle suit expand, one segment at a time, quickly conforming about his body. He hit the ground, his battle suit fully initialized. Rizzo, earlier, had also instructed him on how to access the integrated, wrist plasma weapons via his HUD. But before he could actually do that, bright violet distortion waves filled his vision—multiple bone-crushing thuds hitting him in the chest. He gasped for air, doing his best to spin away on the ground, and getting a quick glimpse of Rizzo in the process. Fortunately, the young Navy SEAL was better prepared. Somehow, he’d already unslung his weapon and initialized his battle suit while remaining on his feet.
Leon suffered several more painful blows to his back and shoulders before he heard Rizzo firing his multi-gun. Two Sahhrain warriors fell to the ground next to him. Leon noticed nearby drones were in the process of encircling his ship. No less than twenty of them. Shiny, lethal-looking, they hovered several feet off the ground, plasma weapons pointed in their direction.
It took a few seconds for Leon to process what happened next. The drones began firing. The first one hit was Captain Stalls. His body blew apart, shredded into a scramble of bloody, fist-sized chunks. Within a millisecond, all three Sahhrain warriors suffered the same messy fate as Stalls. Leon curled into a ball as plasma fire streamed from all directions. He felt each and every white-hot bolt as it hit his battle suit. He glimpsed Rizzo, staggering, but miraculously still on his feet. He pointed a finger toward the horizon and was gone in a flash. Leon got the message. He accessed his HUD’s phase-shift menu, then phase-shifted away. He had noticed, prior to the bright white flash, Ridert standing far back … well behind the still-firing drones’ line of fire.
* * *
Lying flat on her belly, sixty-five feet up, atop the broad stone archway, Boomer watched events unfold far below her, near the landing struts of the SpaceRunner. She really hated Captain Stalls, but seeing him suddenly die so disgustingly—she almost felt sorry for him … almost. Then she thought of Bristol, safe inside the ship, and how … in just an instant … he’d lost his brother.
She wondered where Leon and Rizzo had decided to phase-shift? Rizzo was definitely hurt badly, and if they were smart, they’d stay hidden. She next thought about the human, dressed like a Sahhrain warrior, but wearing a breastplate of silver instead of leather. He’d fled from the scene so quickly—almost as if he phase-shifted—but he wasn’t wearing a battle suit. No, he’d used his enhancement shield. Boomer remembered seeing a fleeting glimmer of violet distortion waves. The guy had crazy skills! Thinking about that, her heart sank and she wondered if she should just give up … surrender right then. This whole plan was turning out to be a bad idea.
Boomer continued to watch the other guy—realizing he was the same person Hanna had spoken about—Ridert, her husband. Trying to visualize them as a couple, a disgusted expression formed on her face. Dust swirled in the distance as scores of marching Sahhrain warriors descended down the alien ship’s gangways and, like a funnel, converged into two long lines. Ridert met them, taking up position in front of their formation. In step, they came to a halt in front of the archway below her. As if a silent command was instigated, gazillions of round drones fell in line behind the warriors, extending off almost as far as the eye could see.
So now what? Boomer’s question was about to be answered. She spotted him coming down the gangway of the nearby Assailant. Her heart skipped a beat and her mouth gaped open when she realized just how big he was. But it was more than mere size. The wind pulled at his long black cloak, causing it to flutter wildly behind him. His golden breastplate—the quick flashes of scarlet beneath his cloak—gave eerie, almost super-hero status to his appearance. But she intuitively knew this guy was no hero.
Lord Vikor Shakrim walked forward several paces, stopped, and suddenly looked up. Crap! He was staring right at her. Boomer quickly lowered her head and did her best to flatten her body against the stone blocks.
What am I doing? He already knows I’m up here. She cleared her mind, took in a breath, and scrambled to her feet. He was still down there—looking up at her. Waiting. Okay, fine … so, I guess, this is where it’s supposed to happen.
Lord Shakrim approached the warrior’s front line and spoke to Ridert. Both looked up at her. Boomer felt small and stupid just standing there.
Lord Shakrim gave an audible command and Ridert, along with the rest of the assembled warriors, marched forward, into the archway beneath her. Boomer spun around but didn’t see anyone emerge from its other side. That’s definitely weird. She looked back to see Lord Shakrim heading out alone toward the open desert. One hundred yards out he stopped, turned, and stood still, his hands on his hips. Is he waiting for me?
New movement. She saw a couple of dozen Sahhrain warriors, different from the others—these were Shakrim’s Chosen Spear warriors. Equipped with spears and enhancement shields, they were hurrying toward Shakrim, and began forming in a large circle around him.
Lord Shakrim raised an arm high over his head and gave two quick flicks of his hand: the universal gesture to come forward, and join him within the circle. Okay, that’s it. Do-or-die time.
What looked like hundreds of warriors, followed by drones, continued to file into the archway beneath her. Where are they going? She didn’t know, but at some level, she knew they needed to be stopped.
The near-countless number of warriors, drones, then Ridert, and now Lord Shakrim, caused mounting fear to slowly creep into Boomer’s subconscious. Breathing had become difficult; she’d begun to hyperventilate. She tried to recall Aahil’s voice—the hours and hours of training she’d undergone so panic, like this, wouldn’t happen. She was already failing Aahil … and failing her father, too. Stop thinking! One more time, she checked the settings on the enhancement shield, snugly fitted onto her forearm. Even through her battle suit she could feel its tiny protrusions, letting her know it was set to its most lethal setting. Finally, calmness settled over her. I can do this.
Poised to phase-shift down to the ground—she stopped when she saw a sudden bright flash. A flash from someone’s phase-shift! Rizzo! Unplanned, and unexpected, he nevertheless appeared, standing five feet behind Shakrim, his multi-gun pointed directly toward the back of his head. Rizzo fired.
But Lord Shakrim was already gone, obviously anticipating the attack. Boomer silently cursed Rizzo. Shakrim had skillfully used his enhancement shield in a way she didn’t think possible: a maneuver that allowed him to block plasma fire, while simultaneously spinning his body sideways. The move was somewhat similar to her doing cartwheels … but much, much faster, and much, much more cool.
Lord Shakrim came at Rizzo from behind. He held up one hand—disruptor waves flew through his fingertips. She knew he was somehow channeling the enhancement shield’s distinct power through his own body. How does he do that?
Rizzo’s body left the ground, flipping three times into the air before landing, face down, thirty feet away.
Boomer
looked down at Rizzo’s unmoving body. Is he dead? She checked to see if there were active life-icons on her HUD, then remembered most HUD functions weren’t working. Shakrim casually walked toward Rizzo’s body. Oh God! He’s going to finish him off!
She screamed the words as she phase-shifted down to the ground, “Don’t you touch him!”
She didn’t land in front of him or behind him … she landed within him. After hundreds of phase-shifts, and many stern warnings from her father—she knew the perils of phase-shifting in too close, or landing on top of another person. But right then, she knew exactly what she must do. The instant Boomer’s physical form, battle suit and all, began materializing sixty-five feet below, three nearly simultaneous things occurred: One, it was determined that the desired end-point was already occupied by another organic mass; two, her own organic mass was determined to hold precedence over the other, pre-existing, mass; and three, Boomer’s mass would transpose the mass of Lord Shakrim. In the fleeting moments before phase-shifting, neither Boomer’s intentions, or actions, were anticipated by Shakrim, and that was what distinguished her from Rizzo … or anyone else, for that matter.
Shakrim’s body flew sideways, with such instantaneous force, such momentum, that his shiny gold breastplate was instantly ripped from his chest and landed fifty yards out in the open desert. His head and neck had been splayed awkwardly—twisted around clockwise, while the rest of his body was twisted around counter-clockwise.
The encircling crowd of warriors quieted down. Lord Shakrim’s body lay prone on the ground before her. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Had she killed him … had it really been that easy?
Lord Shakrim’s eyes opened to cloudy confusion. Four seconds elapsed and confusion turned to focused intelligence. His gaze locked on to Boomer.
Chapter 46
Dacci System
Planet Harpaign, Ancient Subterranean Ruins
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Star Watch Page 25
