They are my family, she thought. Truer family than my father ever was.
The colonel had died a few years ago—right after she had graduated from Officer Candidate School. He hadn't even been there for the ceremony, had died alone on some distant world, off on another adventure. She had visited his grave on Nightwall only once. She had left no flowers.
Ben-Ari gave a quick laugh and wiped her eyes. I'm a captain, an explorer, a warrior, a survivor, but I still have daddy issues.
She looked at her new family, at her soldiers. They sat before her on the wooden platform here high in the trees. Marco and Lailani sat cross-legged, their rifles slung across their backs. Kemi was kneeling by a diorama showing the Nandaki village in the trees, mountains and cliffs, and an alien base full of miniature ravagers. The pilot had built the entire diorama—it was as large as a dining table—from wood, straw, and stone.
"I got the scale wrong on the ravagers," Kemi said, biting her lip. "They look as large as warships here, and I didn't give them enough claws. And I think the eastern mountainside is too steep." She looked up at Captain Ben-Ari. "I'm sorry, ma'am. If you'd like to postpone the meeting, I can—"
"It's all right, Lieutenant." Ben-Ari smiled thinly. "This'll serve nicely. You did good work."
Kemi thrust out her tongue and began adjusting the slope. "If I could just—"
"Lieutenant, sit down." Ben-Ari had to stifle a wider smile. "It's fine."
Kemi dutifully sat down, joining Marco and Lailani. Ben-Ari did not miss how the pilot purposefully sat between the two, keeping them separate.
Even here, across the galaxy, with Earth burning, we find our little problems, our little dramas, Ben-Ari thought. Even here, matters of the heart—dead fathers, bitter childhoods, lost loves—they still haunt us, as surely as the monsters do.
"All right, soldiers," Ben-Ari said. "We've rested here on Nandaki for too long. We must continue our quest to the Cat's Eye Nebula. We must find the Ghost Fleet, bring it back to Earth, and save everyone there—including Addy. For that, we'll need another ship. According to our scanners and intelligence from Nandaki spies, there are seventeen ravagers at the nearby marauder base, only fifty kilometers away. Lieutenant Abasi has prepared us an accurate diorama of the terrain. Moving fast through the brush, it'll take us two Earth days to travel there, three if the vegetation is thicker than we expect. Once at the enemy base, we'll storm the nearest ravager, all guns blazing. We know how to fly them. We'll commandeer one, take flight, and blast the others from the air before they can take off. We don't want another chase on our hands."
Marco frowned at the diorama. "It'll be tough. That eastern mountainside is pretty steep."
Kemi punched him.
Ben-Ari stared at her soldiers. "Yes, it will be tough. War is tough. There are many marauders there. We'll have to move quickly. We'll have to face sixteen of their ships in battle—more if they call for reinforcements before we win. The odds of success are small. But it's our only way. As much as the idea is tempting, we will not retire on this planet. We have a war to fight."
"Forgive me," rose a small voice from above. "But there is another way."
Ben-Ari leaped to her feet and raised her eyes. Little Keewaji emerged from the foliage above, hanging from a branch with his tail. Only he wasn't that little anymore. Over the past couple Earth days here, the young Nandaki had sprouted up. When he landed by Ben-Ari, he stood as tall as her shoulders. When she had first met him, he had stood barely taller than her bellybutton.
"Do Nandakis often eavesdrop?" Ben-Ari asked, trying to sound stern, and she cursed the smile that tickled her lips.
Keewaji bowed his head. "Apologies, ma'am." He glanced up at her. "Is that the right term?"
She nodded. "That is what my soldiers call me."
His eyes filled with pride. "I would gladly be a soldier fighting for you, ma'am! But fighting at that base across the mountains . . . that is suicide." He lowered his head. "Many of my people have attacked the marauders there. They all died. The Night Hunters patrol their base on every side. They set many electronic eyes in the forest, many fences and traps, with holes to fall into and metal jaws that snap. Please, ma'am." Keewaji tugged her sleeve. "Do not die there like my brothers and father died. There is another way."
Ben-Ari placed her hand on the alien's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear about your father and brothers, Keewaji."
"They were brave warriors," the alien said. "And they died too young. I want to fight too, but not to die young. There is another ship on this planet, ma'am. A great piece of cargo, mightier even than the clawed monsters the Night Hunters fly. The Night Hunters do not know of it. But the Nandaki know all the secrets of the forest."
"Another ship . . ." Ben-Ari whispered.
Nandaki nodded. "It is very old. It has existed in our forest for many generations, an ancient artifact of legend."
"So it's been here for about an hour now, yes?" Marco said, earning a glare from Ben-Ari.
Keewaji approached the diorama, then glanced up at Ben-Ari. "If I may adjust the map, ma'am?"
She nodded.
"Fix the mountainside while you're at it!" Marco said, then groaned as Kemi punched him again, harder this time.
Keewaji took clumps of soil and wood, and he fashioned a second mountain, this one north of the village. On the mountain, he placed the tablet Lailani had given him.
"Here." He tapped the tablet. "This tablet represents the ancient ship."
"Hey!" Lailani leaped up and gaped at the tablet. "You beat my Goblin Bowling high score!"
"So we'll fly in one ancient ship to find a fleet of them," Ben-Ari mused softly. "That is, if this old ship can even fly. Keewaji, is this distance to scale?"
The Nandaki nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It lies thirty of your kilometers away. But the way is treacherous, and the canopy is thick, making the mountain difficult to see from the ground. I will gladly guide you there, though the voyage will take many days."
Many days for only thirty kilometers? Ben-Ari wondered, then understood. Of course. With day and night only lasting several minutes here, the Nandaki had a different concept of time.
"Very well," Ben-Ari said. "We'll examine this other starship before taking the risk of attacking a marauder base. Pack quickly for the journey. I want to leave within moments." She glanced at Keewaji. "That is, within days."
They headed north through the forest: four humans and one Nandaki guide.
If Ben-Ari felt a tinge of sadness at leaving this peaceful village, she drowned it under her duty. She would not hide from this war, no matter how beautiful the village was, how much she had loved her time here. The marauders mustered only a few kilometers away, and their malice was spreading across the galaxy.
I am a soldier, she thought, walking through the brush. That's all I ever was, all I know how to be. And I will continue fighting. I will not leave Addy and all of Earth to slow death. She glanced back at the village and felt a twinge in her heart. But I'll still miss that place.
Keewaji led the expedition, swinging from branches during the day. At night, he slept on a litter the humans carried. Every few days, they paused to rest, to eat and drink, then carried on. They had found their abandoned backpacks in the forest, and it was slow going with the weight. Ben-Ari refused to show weakness to her soldiers. She trudged on, drawing comfort from the beauty around her. The trees rose the height of skyscrapers, their leaves rustling. Flowers bloomed in the day, white and pink and deep purple, and at night they glowed and lit their path. The plants were unlike any Ben-Ari had seen on Earth; some sent forth wriggling tentacles like anemones, others had feathered leaves and flowers rich with beads, while some seemed like animals that peered with shining eyes.
The journey took an entire Earth day—and many Nandaki days and nights. Keewaji had been right. They did not see the mountain until they were nearly upon it. It soared ahead, its slopes rich with greenery, its peak capped with snow. Countless birds flew above it, and a waterfall cascade
d near its base, filling a river.
"This is a holy mountain to our people," Keewaji whispered, staring with awe. "Here the Old One has lived for many eras. He is powerful and wise, and his ship is mighty." He trembled. "I fear his wisdom. He is the Lord of Cargo."
They rested, ate, then climbed the mountainside. Thankfully, it wasn't steep. But the vegetation was so thick that every step was a struggle. The alien plants rose around their feet, vines dangled from above, and the canopy hid the sky. Finally, when Ben-Ari was wondering if they'd ever reach the crest, Keewaji pointed.
"There!" he whispered, tears on his cheeks. "The alien ship!"
They all stared ahead, silent.
Several Nandaki females were there, wearing silvery dresses and bead necklaces. They were bowing before a hillock of wood and straw and leaves; it was roughly the shape of a starship. Baskets of fruits and nuts were laid out like offerings to a god. One Nandaki was playing a harp, swaying as if in prayer.
Ben-Ari sighed.
It was another fake ship, just made of wood and straw. Just like the ones back at the village.
"Great," Lailani muttered. "We came all this way for nothing."
Kemi nodded. "They're a cargo cult. Like cargo cults on Earth. Back in the Second World War, tribes in Earth's jungles saw American and Japanese planes flying overhead. Seeking such power, the tribesmen would build planes from straw and wood, believing them magical artifacts. They thought that with such so-called cargo, they too could become mighty nations. They never realized they needed more than straw." Kemi gazed at the pile of greenery ahead in the shape of a ship. "The Nandakis too seek cargo, so they built a giant starship to worship."
Ben-Ari approached Keewaji and touched his shoulder. "Keewaji, thank you for leading us here. We'll return to the village now."
The Nandaki shook his head. He pointed at the starship of leaf and wood. "A ship! A ship you can fly! Don't you like it?"
Ben-Ari knelt before the little alien. "Keewaji, I love it. But we seek a ship built of metal, not one of wood and leaf. A real ship."
"This is real!" He pointed again. "Real ship! Ancient ship of powerful cargo!"
Lailani stepped closer, frowning. She held a sensor, pointing it at the leafy starship. "Uhm, Captain? This makes no sense, but . . . my sensor is detecting a starship ahead."
They all looked back at the starship-shaped mound of greenery.
Ben-Ari stepped forward, frowning. She pulled back several vines, revealing a metal hull.
Her eyes widened.
"A ship," she whispered. "A ship hidden in the vegetation."
She pulled back more vines. Her crew cleared away leaves and branches. More of the hull was revealed, letters upon it.
Ben-Ari gasped.
English letters. The ESS Marilyn.
Ben-Ari stumbled back.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, it's impossible. How can this be?"
Kemi walked up to her. She placed a hand on Ben-Ari's shoulder. "Captain, are you all right? Do you recognize this ship?"
Ben-Ari nodded. Her voice shook. "It belonged to somebody I knew. Years ago."
A hatch opened on the ship's roof. A man popped out, his wild yellow hair streaked with white, his mustache bristly.
"The years go by quickly on Nandaka, Einav! I've been waiting for you."
Ben-Ari stared.
Her heart seemed to shatter.
Her lungs seemed to collapse.
"You died," she whispered. "You died. I was at your grave."
Her father smiled down at her. "In that case, dear daughter, we must be in heaven."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A hundred ravagers.
Living starships. The female marauders, evolved to fly through space, to tear enemies apart. Great huntresses of the darkness.
They flew toward the last human fleet, blasting out their plasma.
"Fire all your guns!" Petty boomed. "Fire everything!"
And across the fleet, they fired.
The missiles flew out, and Brigadier-General James Petty clenched his fists.
You took our homeworld, he thought. You slaughtered millions of our sons and daughters. But there are still humans who stand. Humanity still fights!
And the wrath of humanity slammed into the attacking ravagers with blasting fire and furious vengeance.
"For Earth," Petty whispered through clenched teeth, staring from the bridge of the Minotaur.
It was an onslaught that could have taken down armadas of warships. An assault that could have destroyed a thousand invading scum ships.
Perhaps three ravagers collapsed.
The rest kept streaming forth, barely even scarred.
And their fury followed.
Streams of plasma blasted out. The flames roared over Firebirds, and the starfighters spun madly, melting, ejecting their pilots into the void. A cargo ship listed, hull blasted open, spilling precious reserves of water.
"Defensive maneuvers!" Petty shouted. "More power to the shiel—"
A blast hit them.
The starfighter carrier, the largest ship left in the human fleet, jolted and tilted. Klaxons blared. Smoke filled the ship. The lights shut down, then returned as the backup power kicked in.
"Keep those missiles flying!" Petty said.
"Systems booting up on backup power!" cried an officer.
"Turn our starboard shields toward the enemy!" Petty shouted. "Divert all power to our starboard!"
They swerved in space. But they were an old ship. Large. Clunky. Slow. A ship from a different era, showing her age. Some called her a living museum. And the ravager fire slammed into their side with enough force to capsize them.
The artificial gravity system died again.
Pens, tablets, and officers flew through the bridge.
And through the viewport, Petty saw them. By God, they were everywhere. Only a hundred ravagers, but terrifying. They moved with incredible speed. They were bred to kill. They were the galaxy's apex predators.
And we are their prey.
Petty clenched his jaw.
But we will not go down easily.
He grabbed a control panel. He barked orders into his communicator.
"Firebirds, rally around the Minotaur!" he said. "Our ship will charge through their lines, breaking their formations, front cannons firing. We can still take a few hits. Fly above and below us and tear the ravagers apart."
His squad commanders answered, one by one.
Those that remained, at least. They had begun the battle with hundreds of Firebirds. Petty wasn't sure how many had survived this long, but he saw far too many floating in pieces through space. At least the five warships, massive vessels, still flew, and—
The ravagers regrouped. They charged. Their plasma blazed.
The HDFS Nymph, a warship with a thousand marines aboard, tore open.
Petty stared, breath dying.
Explosions rocked the legendary warship. Missiles flew like fireworks. Hundreds of soldiers spilled out from the breached hull, some still flailing, most already dead.
The Nymph. Gone. Petty knew those officers. They were his friends. They—
Not now, he told himself. Mourn later. Fight now!
"Helms officer, charge forth with thruster engines!" Petty shouted. "Full speed ahead, and keep those cannons firing. Take their plasma on our prow. We can resist a bit more." He spoke into his communicator to his warships. "Sphinx, Cyclops—fly above us! Chimera, Medusa—cover our belly! Attack formations, go!"
The fleet charged.
They were like buffaloes storming through a cloud of enraged wasps.
The ravagers scattered, then swooped in. Their metal claws tore into human vessels, ripping open hulls. Their plasma spurted out, melting Firebirds. One Firebird pilot flew upward, spun, then plunged, firing a missile into the open maw of a ravager. The alien vessel shattered. The Minotaur slammed into another ravager, crumpling the smaller ship. Blasts from the Minotaur's cannon finished the job. Mara
uders—twisted creatures, flailing their legs and snapping their jaws—tumbled out from their ships, only for the Firebirds to shatter them with hailstorms of bullets.
They can be hurt, Petty thought. They can be destroyed.
Yet it came at a horrible cost.
For every ravager ship destroyed, the humans were suffering devastating losses.
And we need our soldiers more than they need theirs.
"All ships, hear me!" Petty said into his communicator. "Firebirds, move close to us. All ships, lock onto our beacon. Engage your azoth engines in ten, nine, eight . . ."
Osiris turned toward him. The android had been serving in the fleet for years, but she looked barely older than twenty. If you asked Petty, it was damn foolishness. Her engineers had shaped her as a beautiful woman, her skin pale, her pageboy hair platinum, her eyes lavender. Petty would have preferred a damn box. Boxes didn't talk back either.
"Sir?" Osiris said. "We're still too close to Pluto, sir. The forces of bending spacetime in a gravity field can—"
"That's an order, android," Petty said. "Three. Two. One. Azoth engines—engage!"
Across the battle, the human ships glowed blue.
The warp engines weren't primed. They wouldn't get very far. But it might just be enough.
A move you invented, Einav Ben-Ari, he thought. A move you used when escaping from prison. A move that might just save humanity right now.
They sucked spacetime through their engines, refracting it through their azoth crystals like a diamond scattering light.
Spacetime curved around them.
Two Firebirds were too slow. The bubble of bending spacetime crushed them. The other starfighters had moved close enough to the larger warships, were sucked into the tunnel like boats sucked into the wake of a steamship. As spacetime itself curved around them, propelling them forth at several times the speed of light, it crushed everything in its perimeter.
Earth Shadows (Earthrise Book 5) Page 16
