The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

  40

  The Saurians

  Nolan stumbled through the rust, tossed about by violent winds. They cut visibility to nothing, and the squad was forced to navigate using their heads-up displays. The maps didn’t include rusty pylons straddling uneven roads. He already missed his mech.

  “Sir, are we really sure about this?” Hannan asked into the comm. It was a private channel. “The Saurians outnumber us, and they know we’re hurting. Sissus seems like a major asshole. He’s the kind of opportunistic bastard that might just kill us for our gear.”

  “He won’t make a move as long as we have mechs—not to mention T’kon. The Saurians have been bred to fear elites. For now, I think we’re safe. I don’t like it either, but we don’t have much choice. We need their help.” Nolan pressed into the wind, glancing at the map, then opened a squad-wide channel. “It’s in that building over there. Annie, Hannan, I want you out here idling. Be ready to punch a hole through that wall if we call for help. Nuchik, once we’re inside, see if you can find a vantage point—just in case. Burke, T’kon, Lena, you’re with me. Everyone else, stay with the mechs.”

  Nolan leaned into the furious wind again, pressing toward a door cut from scrap. He pounded on it three times, bracing himself against the wall. A slot in the top slid open, and a pair of Saurian eyes sized him up. The slot closed, and the door opened inward.

  “Get inside,” Sissrot hissed. He beckoned them forward, slamming the door after Burke, T’kon, and Nolan had entered. “Sissus arrived about twenty minutes ago. He claims that you unnecessarily endangered yourselves, and that there is a good likelihood you’ll bring the wrath of Takkar down on my clutch.”

  “He might be right,” Nolan admitted. He removed his helmet, looking the Saurian in the eye. “I know I’m putting you in a tough position, but there’s also an opportunity here. We’ve given the Ganog a black eye.”

  “A what?” Sissrot’s confusion was clear, even on that emotionless face.

  “We hurt them in a very visible way.”

  “Yes, you slew Krekon. If not for that, I’d never have unbarred the door. You have my eternal thanks for that, but I’m still not willing to risk my clutch over you.”

  “Sissrot,” Sissus bellowed from deeper within the shadowed warehouse. “Have the humans finally arrived? You have granted them admittance?”

  “Yes, I have granted them sanctuary.” Sissrot turned to face the other Saurian, striding aggressively toward Sissus. “I lead here, not you. It is my responsibility to keep us safe, and I will make the decisions needed to ensure that. If you wish to challenge, do so. Otherwise, take your bile elsewhere.”

  “You lead, but you are not an emperor,” Sissus hissed. His eyes narrowed, and he stood tall before Sissrot’s approach. “We are not Ganog, lording our authority over others.”

  “No, you’re right about that,” Sissrot admitted. He turned toward the darkened shadows. “Hear me, brothers. Sissus has helped to strike a great blow at our tormentors. Krekon is dead.”

  A cacophony of shouts and growls came from the shadows—the Saurian version of cheering maybe? It was damned unsettling.

  “The human, Nolan, slew Krekon in one-on-one combat. During the battle, Sissus betrayed his masters. It is possible they know of his treachery, and that the treachery will lead them here. Even if it does not, the clan leader will come hunting Nolan and the humans.” Sissrot paused, seeming to search for words. “The difficult decision before me is: do I send them away? Do we pretend nothing has happened, and hope that Sissus’s betrayal goes unnoticed? Or do we aid the humans openly, hoping they can help us to freedom? You can see my dilemma.”

  “I say we flee,” Sissus roared. He, too, turned to face the shadows. “Takkar’s wrath is unbearable. I have seen it crush whole worlds. Freedom is useless if we are dead.”

  Sissrot stared pointedly at Nolan, and after a moment he realized his role. He was supposed to present a counterargument. He squared his shoulders, using his best parade voice. “If you flee, Takkar will find you. You all know that. But there’s another way. My race travels using the sun, something we call a Helios Gate. Right now, my people’s most advanced fleet lurks inside your star. That fleet is led by our fiercest commander, the one who trained me to fight.”

  “How great can this commander really be? Your fleet lost the last engagement.” Sissus sneered at Nolan. “They fled, leaving you and your friends behind to be hunted. How will they help us?”

  “During that battle, my people accomplished something you believed possible—we disabled one of your dreadnoughts. That was after we’d been ambushed. We escaped that ambush, and I promise you that this time we will be prepared for battle when our fleet meets Takkar’s.” Nolan walked toward the shadows, toward the many pairs of glittering eyes. “As Sissrot said, you have two choices. You can work with us—and maybe die—or you can try to run and hide. Now, from everything I’ve heard, this Takkar is a nasty bastard, and he doesn’t like letting enemies live. So, if you run, he’s going to be hunting you. How many will die trying to get away? He burned the entire market just to smoke us out. What will he do to this world when he learns that Krekon is dead?”

  Whispers echoed through the darkness.

  Nolan cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you what. Let me present my plan. If you think it’s workable, then go along with us. If not, you’re free to scurry back into the shadows. Hopefully Takkar’s boot won’t find you.”

  The whispers stopped. Sissus and Sissrot were both staring at him. Shit. He needed to come up with a plan, and he needed to do it right now.

  41

  Convince Them

  Nolan thought frantically, a bead of sweat working its way from his forehead down his cheek. Everyone was staring at him—not just the Saurians, but also his squad. He’d intimated he had a way out of this predicament, but did he really?

  “Sissus, the heavy cruiser you were dropped off in—what happened to it after the battle?” Nolan asked, an idea beginning to germinate.

  “The cruiser set down not far from the drop-off point, ready to return to extract us,” Sissus said, clearly suspicious.

  “And since Krekon is dead, the ship is still waiting there?”

  “In all likelihood. The ship belongs to Krekon. The crew wouldn’t dare move the ship without his permission.” Sissus cocked his head to the side. “What are you considering, human?”

  “The ship is still sitting there, waiting for Krekon. What would happen if you showed up instead, claiming Krekon had sent you? Would they let you inside?” Nolan’s idea was fully formed now, and he could tell by the faces around him that they were beginning to grasp it.

  “They’d let me aboard, believing I was there under orders,” Sissus confirmed. “You seek to take that ship, don’t you?”

  “A cruiser of that size could probably carry several hundred people, if those people were willing to get a little cozy. We could extract every Saurian in your clutch, the Whalorians, and my people.”

  “How would we escape the atmosphere?” Sissus asked. He folded his scaly arms. “They’d wake the planetstriders, and we’d be shot down. Even if we made it to orbit, we’d have to deal with the dreadnoughts.”

  Nolan hesitated, glancing at Burke and T’kon. He needed to get his people out, and this might be the only way. Not all of them were going to make it.

  “My people will launch an assault as soon as they receive my signal. They can keep Takkar’s fleet busy.” Nolan paused, watching the Saurians react. There were rumbling whispers, and Sissrot was clearly intrigued. “We can use our surviving mechs to take the ship, break orbit, and make it to the safety of our fleet.”

  “You’ve not mentioned how you intend to deal with the planetstriders,” Sissus said. He gave a rumbling growl. “Your plan is flawed. A single shot from a planetstrider, and all of us die.”

  “Lena, have we developed a profile on the Ganog cruiser?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Lena said. She was subdued, still cradling
the core that held all that remained of Edwards. She glanced nervously at the Saurians, her tail growing larger as the fur stood on end.

  “If we flew low through the city, could we break away and find a safe route out of the atmosphere?” Nolan asked.

  “Possibly,” Lena said, licking her chops as she thought. “We could make for those mountains to the west, then hug the continent for a few hundred miles. We might be able to make orbit safely. But getting away from the city is problematic. The planetstrider closest to us will have plenty of time to fire on us. I don’t believe we’d be able to escape without disabling it.”

  Nolan considered the problem. He turned to T’kon. “You said you’ve been inside one of these planetstriders?”

  “Not just any planetstrider,” T’kon countered. His fur darkened. “The planetstrider looming over us is Vkat, the oldest and most famous of Takkar’s weapons. I made it inside. I saw the control room.”

  “Then here’s what we’re going to do. T’kon will help us lead a strike team into the planetstrider. We will disable it, preventing it from firing on the cruiser. Sissus, you and your people will take that cruiser to orbit, where you’ll meet up with my people.” Nolan knew the plan was risky, but it was workable.

  “How do you intend to take the cruiser?” Sissus asked. “There will be a pair of elites and a squad of Saurians guarding it. The ship itself has weaponry capable of destroying your war machines.”

  “We’re going to tempt them out of the ship.” Nolan grinned broadly. “You can carry in some of the scrap from my mech, showing them the core. Tell them you need help carrying the salvage. They open the door, and presumably they exit. We have snipers in position, and our mechs waiting close by. They come out, we overwhelm them, we have the ship.”

  “There are many points of failure in this plan,” Sissrot pointed out, though his reticence seemed to be fading. He clasped his hands behind his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Yet I see no other way. If we stay here, Takkar will find us. None of my people will survive. You have placed us in an untenable position, human. I do not thank you for that.”

  “I don’t expect you to. The situation isn’t ideal, but we have to react to it.” Nolan turned to Burke. “Get the squad ready to move. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

  42

  Move Out

  Nolan hefted the comm unit from the body of his dead mech. The machine was extensively damaged—the cockpit shattered, an arm missing.

  “I’m amazed you survived,” Burke said. The lieutenant stuffed his pack into Hannan’s mech, and judging by the sour look on Hannan’s face, she wasn’t pleased with Nolan’s decision to give the machine to Burke.

  “So am I. I got lucky,” Nolan admitted. He flipped the power switch on the comm unit, taking a deep breath as it whined to life.

  Burke looked around, then lowered his voice. “Nolan, why are you doing this, man? It doesn’t make sense. You’re the commanding officer. You don’t go into danger. You send people like me or Hannan. At first, I thought you were the cowboy everybody made you out to be. Since then, I’ve seen you command, and I know that isn’t true. You’re tactical, deliberate. So why the sacrifice play?”

  Nolan was a bit taken aback by Burke’s bluntness, but decided to answer him in kind. He owed the man that much. “You were right when you said I didn’t belong in the 1st Fleet. Right before he died, Reval said something that really hit home. He said that I couldn’t follow orders, that I’d grown too used to being on my own.”

  “I don’t follow.” Burke’s eyebrows knit closer together.

  “Reval was right about me,” Nolan explained. “Once upon a time, I was the good soldier. I worked for OFI, and I followed orders blindly. That got me exiled to the 14th. I got to see how command treated us, how politics hamstrung us. First against the Tigris, and then the Void Wraith.” It felt good to articulate what he’d been feeling. “After the UFC Johnston was destroyed, my squad was on our own. No resources, no help. We had to find a way to stop the Gorthians, and that’s exactly what we did. I don’t operate well in a command structure, Burke. Not like you. I don’t follow orders. But you know what? My squad is the best there is when it comes to doing the impossible.

  “We need to stop that planetstrider. I could send someone else to do that, knowing it’s a one-way trip. But what if you, or Hannan, or whoever I put in charge couldn’t pull it off? Everyone on that cruiser would die, and I can’t allow that.” Nolan’s mouth firmed to a tight line, and he clenched his fist. “I’m going to take down that planetstrider. I’m going to get you, T’kon, and that cruiser up to the fleet. My squad and I won’t make it out, but if we’re going down then this is how we want to go out.”

  “I see,” Burke finally said. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t say I like you. I can’t say I agree with you. But I do appreciate your honesty.”

  Nolan extended a hand. Burke shook it.

  “Captain,” Annie’s voice boomed from her mech, “the Saurians are getting antsy. Want me to go outside and calm ’em down?”

  “Do that, Annie,” Nolan called back. “Burke and Nuchik will be out in a minute, and you guys can follow Sissus into position.”

  “Good luck, Nolan,” Burke said. He turned and walked to Hannan’s mech.

  Nolan headed over to join his squad. They were a ragged bunch. Lena now wore a battered leather pack the Saurians had given her, with Edwards’s core inside. Hannan’s armor was battered and scratched, and her fatigue was gathered in the dark circles under her eyes. She gave Nolan a tight nod that said more than any number of words. T’kon stood a little ways apart, oiling the trigger on his slug thrower.

  “Okay, moment of truth,” Nolan said. He set the comm device on the ground and propped up the antenna. Inserting the chip in the side, he began broadcasting the automated message. “Let’s hope Fizgig is out there, or this is going to go south really damned quick.”

  43

  In System

  No matter how many times Fizgig witnessed the full fury at the heart of a star, she never lost the feeling of awe. The pressure was so intense that even atoms were crushed. Gravity itself was unstable; magnetic waves rippled and warped around the Mendez.

  Then the fury abruptly abated. She was in the eye at the center of the storm, the protective field generated by the Helios Gate itself. The Primo-constructed device broke many, many laws of physics. Fizgig was no scientist, but as she understood it, the Gate created a wormhole between the center of this star and their destination.

  “Take us to Ganog 7,” Fizgig ordered. Her ship moved toward the mirrored surface of the Gate, rippling through to a destination hundreds of light years away. There was a moment of vertigo, then they were emerging from an identical Gate, into a seemingly identical star.

  The ship moved toward the furious brightness, leaving the Gate’s protective field. The Helios Generator harnessed the star’s own energy, creating a very similar field around the ship. Lena had often lectured her about how such a field shouldn’t be possible, though Fizgig had never paid enough attention to understand the process. What did it matter why it worked, as long as it did?

  Seconds stretched to minutes as they rose through the sun. Using any kind of sensors was impossible, leaving them no choice but to wait. They were blind until they reached the sun’s corona; only then would Fizgig know what awaited them in-system.

  All she knew was that Nolan had sent the signal. He lived, and needed extraction.

  Finally, their agonizing ascent was over. They emerged into the sun’s corona, towering pillars of nuclear flame undulating above. Many of those pillars were tens of thousands of miles high, their fury capable of destroying a ship with a depleted Helios Field.

  Fortunately, her pilot was skilled. He guided the Mendez around one tendril, then under another. The ship shuddered as all power was shunted to the engines. Even with the Helios Drive, escaping a sun’s gravity took everything their ship had.

  “Give me a visual on the stat
ion orbiting the planet,” Fizgig ordered. The view screen shimmered, revealing a 3D model of the enemy station, its spidery limbs pointed toward the orange-brown world below.

  A cloud of ships hovered around the station, appearing to be below the planet, though such distinctions were purely tied to her perspective, of course. Numbers large enough for everyone to read scrolled on the right side of the image.

  There were eighteen heavy cruisers, and six of the dreadnought-class vessels that had inflicted such catastrophic damage during their last encounter. As Nolan had noted in his report, the Ganog were not skilled at repair. The cannon was still shattered, the hull still pockmarked from explosions. These foes were formidable, but they could be overcome.

  The implications were wonderfully liberating. If Fizgig fought intelligently, and used her cloaking to good effect, she could damage the enemy and then melt away. She could retreat and repair, while it appeared the enemy could not. If they were careful, they might be able to win a war of attrition.

  Unfortunately, today’s battle would prevent them from capitalizing on such a strategy. She needed to engage the foe and keep them busy while Nolan got off-world. That meant she couldn’t melt away. She would have no choice but to stand and fight.

  “Open a Fleet-wide channel,” Fizgig ordered. She found this next part distasteful, but one of the lessons she’d learned from Dryker was that morale won battles as much as strategy. She waited for Juliard to indicate the channel was open before she spoke. “We have arrived at Ganog 7. You can all see the fleet that waits there, between us and our people. Today, we have a responsibility to the entire Coalition. We owe them a victory. Today, we show our enemies why the Gorthians and their pet Void Wraith lost their war with us. If they could not stop us, then what are these Ganog?