by M. R. Forbes
“Open a channel,” Dak said. “Retransmit to the surface.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Brimstone, this is Colonel Brink of the Ophanim. I’ve been authorized by General Sylvan Kett to assume command of this assault. Please transmit your active combat data immediately.”
What?
“Excuse me, Colonel,” Gant said. “I’m in charge of this operation.”
“I don’t know who this is, but not anymore. If you want to get away from Kell alive, you’ll listen to me.”
Gant growled softly. Who the frag did this Colonel think he was? They couldn’t afford to waste time bickering over it. Not when people were dying.
“Fine. Dak, send the Colonel the data. Colonel, watch out for the enemy ships. They pack a punch.”
“I’ve already seen it back on Azure,” Brink said. “Prep your individuals for evacuation. I’ve got work to do. Brink, out.”
43
Phlenel rolled the Devil again, diving between two of the Shrikes as they whipped past, inverting the fighter to squeeze between them. She reversed thrust as she did, the inertia threatening the integrity of the craft while she relaxed her form to absorb the force. The Devil flipped back and she loosed a stream of fire, catching the Shrike in the rear and blasting it to pieces.
“That’s five for me,” she said, hitting the main thrusters to shoot forward again.
“I will even it out in a moment,” Ruby said.
Phlenel found her fighter nearby, exchanging maneuvers with another Shrike. A few seconds later she got the best of it, pounding its cockpit with a mass of projectiles that broke through the shields and killed the pilot.
“We’re almost there,” Phlenel said, moving the Devil into formation with Ruby’s.
They had made the awesome power of the Shrikes look nonexistent during the confrontation, their respective design superiority offering them attack vectors that other individuals couldn’t match, and that often took their opponents by surprise. Once they had joined up and began double-teaming opponents, that superiority had allowed them to make quick work of any of the enemy ships that tried to intercede in their path to the Nephilim warship.
“Watch the lasers,” Ruby warned as they streaked toward the ship.
Phlenel did, monitoring the HUD for warnings as they swooped toward the target, coming in nose-first. The dark warship started firing defensively, lighter-powered lasers and plasma bursts that filled the space around them with destructive energy. They weaved back and forth, rolling and flipping and corkscrewing unevenly around one another, remaining close together as they bypassed the top of the ship, angling past it toward the rear.
A fresh squadron of Shrikes moved to intercept, appearing out of a hangar nearby and jetting toward them. Phlenel checked her ordnance status. One hundred projectile rounds and the two heavy missiles, plus a pair of small lasers to give it at least a minor offensive capability once the rest of the munitions were gone.
“Stay on the main target,” Phlenel said. “I don’t have the munitions to handle the Shrikes.”
“Roger. Me neither. Let’s disable this one and break for the Brimstone.”
The two Devils raced along the hull of the warship, the Shrikes giving chase behind. They stayed as close to the surface of the ship as they dared, ducking behind extrusions and staying just above the web of energy coming from the shields. The onboard computer rained continual tones down on them, warning them of incoming fire, the rounds from their attackers coming dangerously close to removing them from the fight.
Then they burst out of the back, passing the ship and heading into space, preparing to make a tight turn to circle back and unleash their ordnance. Four heavy missiles. They could only hope it would be enough to bring down the shields and plant one of them in the reactor.
“Prepare to reverse course and acquire a lock,” Ruby said.
“Roger,” Phlenel replied.
She was enjoying working with the synth. Ruby’s calculated motions and rigid attention to detail matched her own, and while she knew her counterpart wasn’t truly alive, there were plenty of times she felt like bots and synths were better than real individuals, anyway. They could only see things for what they were, not what their emotions wanted them to be. They were incorruptible unless physically hacked. They were tireless. Who wouldn’t prefer that?
The two Devils made a tight arc, coming about, weaving around the Shrikes.
A ship suddenly appeared right in front of them. It was long and teardrop-shaped, with lines of what looked like energized vines running along the hull.
“Shit,” Phlenel said, adjusting her vector to get up and over it. Ruby did the same, but the appearance threw off their run. “What the hell?”
“Kett’s forces,” Ruby said. “It must be. There are six Longhorn-class battlecruisers as well as these two ships. They are unidentified, but if I had to make an estimation, I would say they are Seedships.”
“What they are is in the fragging way,” Phlenel said.
“I agree.”
They cleared the top of it. The Nephilim warship was in motion, turning to get its main weapons to bear on the newcomer.
“It’s going to get hammered,” Phlenel said. Her HUD began to light up with dozens of new targets, both Republic starfighters and Shrikes.
“I’ve set a new vector,” Ruby said.
Phlenel tracked it, getting into position and chasing the tail of the Nephilim ship anew. It was already starting to hit the Seedship with its smaller lasers, causing flashes of shield energy along the surface of the vessel. Ahead of it, four of the cruisers were firing on the warship, sending missiles and lasers against its powerful shields, concentrating their fire on the same spot they were going for.
“Queenie must have told them where to shoot,” Ruby said.
The enemy captain was doing their best to bring the ship around. A torpedo fired, flashing and hitting one of the cruisers. It began to fall apart a moment later.
“They can’t survive against this.”
“We’re almost in position.”
“I’ve got a lock,” Phlenel said, slipping the fighter in behind the ship. “Firing.”
A missile launched, following the lock to the area near the back, closest to the monstrous reactor. It detonated against the shields. A second did the same.
“Frag. Not enough.”
“Firing,” Ruby said, releasing her final two.
Phlenel looked back over her shoulder as she moved away from the ship. The first strike caused the shields to flicker and began eating at the armor plating. The second dug in behind it, finishing the work of the first and eating through the metal. A short burst of burning oxygen, and then the warship went dead.
44
“Jester, where the frag are you?” Gant said.
He and Pik were on the move, heading away from the main structure as quickly as possible. A squadron of Daedalus fighters swooped in from overhead, unleashing their ordnance on the building. Detonations shook the ground and sent a warm breeze in from behind them, along with smaller bits of stone from the building.
“I just turned my beacon on,” Benhil said.
Gant checked the HUD, finding the blue icon that represented the soldier in the augmented reality of the helmet. “I’ve got you. We’re incoming.”
A pair of Shrikes crossed overhead, bearing the markings of General Kett’s forces. They exchanged fire with a set of enemy fighters, taking one of them down as they went past.
“Are all of the pens clear?” he asked.
“Affirmative. We’ll have to do a head count later.”
“Nerd, what’s your status?” Gant asked.
“Powering up and almost ready to go,’ Erlan replied.
Gant could see one of the other ships already rising, escaping from the surface battle. He turned his attention to the Brimstone. It’s looked battered, but it was still maintaining altitude. The attacks on it had ceased, the enemy turning their attention to Kett’s forces.
He didn’t know how the rest of the Ophanim were doing up there, but considering the number of fighters that were destroying enemy mechs down here, he didn’t have any complaints.
“Surface One, Gant, this is Brimstone. We’re moving back into orbit. You have three minutes to clear the field.”
“Three minutes?” Gant said. “That’s not enough time.”
“Sorry, Boss. That’s all you get. Colonel Brink’s orders.”
“Fragging Colonel Brink,” he muttered. “Jester, we’ve got three minutes to get these soldiers loaded and ships skyward.”
“Are you kidding?”
“I wish.”
“Are you going to make it?”
“We’ll be there.”
Gant and Pik continued to bounce along the surface, their suits carrying them fifty meters with each jump. The fighting was still heavy around them, the number of dead from both sides overwhelming. Thraven had left plenty of Converts here as well, and they were wandering the field, some missing arms or legs, others with half a face. They picked up nearby rifles and fired at any enemies that came close, slowing their progress as they paused to knock them down before they could get shot.
“This is Nerd,” Erlan said. “We’re lifting off.”
Gant saw the ship begin to rise a few kilometers away. The Brimstone was getting smaller above them, vanishing into orbit. Another ship had come into view nearby. Two more. Nephilim warships. They were black splotches against the purple sky.
They were also getting closer.
“Dak,” Gant said. “Tell Colonel Dick that he can’t do this. There are still hundreds of individuals on the ground who haven’t made it to a ship, and a lot of them are wounded.”
“Surface One,” Colonel Brink replied. “I had Commander Dak patch me into the Brimstone’s comm link. You have sixty seconds to get clear. We have no way of knowing how soon Gloritant Thraven or his forces will arrive, and if they do before we’re gone, we’re all going to die.”
“There are innocent individuals down here,” Gant complained.
“Innocent?” Brink said. “From what I understand, they’re all soldiers. They aren’t innocent. Certainly, neither are you.”
Gant disconnected the link. “Fragging son of a mother fragging whore,” he cursed.
“What’s going on?” Pik asked.
“I’m not sure how, but he’s bringing those ships down on the field to destroy the others.”
Pik looked up. “We’re still under them.”
“I know.”
They made the last few jumps to the waiting warship. Benhil was at the hatch, refusing to let the others close it.
“Thanks for holding the door,” Gant said.
“This is some fragged up shit, right here,” Benhil replied.
“Tell whoever is running this boat to get us the frag out of here.”
Benhil said something to one of the prisoners, who ran ahead and passed the message along.
“We don’t have access to the comms yet,” he explained. “Hopefully they’ll see the hull is sealed and just go.”
The ship began to vibrate, the reactors increasing their power output. Gant could feel the gravity inverters begin humming.
“If I ever meet Colonel Brink in person, I’m going to cut his fragging head off,” Gant said.
“Let’s get to the bridge,” Benhil suggested.
They ran along the corridors, not entirely sure how to get to the bridge. They made it just as the craft reached the thermosphere, rising into it at the same time the two dead Nephilim warships were sinking in. He didn’t need to see the impact to know it would destroy anything that remained on the ground, including all of the prisoners that hadn’t made it to a ship.
“How many were still down there?” Benhil asked.
“I don’t know if I want to know,” Gant replied.
A dirty, ragged woman with dark hair was sitting in the command chair, barking orders to the three other crew members on the bridge. She glanced over at them for a moment.
“Ensign, see if you can contact Coalition Command,” she said.
“Belay that order, Ensign,” Gant said. “This isn’t your ship.”
“What?” the woman said.
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed,” the Ensign said.
“Put it up.”
“Free people of Kell, this is General Sylvan Kett of the Seraphim United Defense Force,” General Kett said. “Please maintain course and prepare to be boarded. You are declared prisoners of war, until you can be divested. Any efforts to escape will be met with deadly force. Any efforts to resist will be met with deadly force. We have no interest in imprisoning you again, but we do require an orderly transfer of interest. Ship’s captains, please acknowledge.”
“Prisoners of war?” Benhil said.
“General Kett?” Pik said. “That means Queenie is back, doesn’t it?”
Gant felt a sudden coldness, his whole body going stiff. “I don’t know. Seraphim United Defense Force? Queenie would never let Kett take over like this.”
He looked out through the ship’s forward viewport, searching. He found what he was looking for a few seconds later. The Faust, hanging close to one of the Seedships.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Benhil said.
“So do I,” Gant replied, forcing himself to stay calm.
Abbey hadn’t been dead the last time he had thought she was. He had to assume she was alive until someone proved otherwise.
He might do something he would regret again if he didn’t.
“Why does it feel like even though we won, we lost?” Pik asked.
45
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” Bastion said, glaring at General Kett. “This is Queenie’s army. This is Queenie’s fight. The Rejects.”
“Abigail is dead,” Sylvan replied, his face stone. “Just like Charmeine.”
“You don’t know that,” Jequn said. “She may have survived. We need to go back.”
“Go back?” Sylvan said. “We can’t go back. There’s nothing to go back to. This is the way forward. The way that we planned. The way your mother wanted it to be.”
“What do you mean?” Bastion asked. “You were planning this bullshit the whole time?”
“No,” Jequn said.
“Yes,” Sylvan said. “Cage would have been a powerful asset, but she’s not a leader. She doesn’t have the experience I have.”
“What she has is heart,” Bastion said. “What she has is courage. She was going to do this herself because you were too much of a coward to help. The only reason you’re even here is because-”
Bastion grunted as the General’s fist hit him hard in the gut. A moment later, an arm was around his neck, choking him.
“The reason I’m here is because I promised Charmeine I would be. The entire galaxy is in danger, Bastion, and we’re the only ones who can stop it. Tactical experience has value right now. Heart doesn’t. It isn’t personal.”
He let Bastion go. Bastion reached up and rubbed at his neck. Son of a bitch. Abbey had told him how much she respected this guy. What the hell for?
“Look General; I got you here, you won the day. Whoopee. You want the ships? You want the army? That’s fine by me. Whatever. Just let me collect my team and we’ll be on our way. You can stay here. We’re going back to Azure.”
“I’m sorry, Bastion,” Sylvan replied. “I can’t let you do that. We need skilled soldiers more than anything else. You’re a top notch pilot. I can’t let you go.”
“What? Are you fragging kidding me? You don’t control me.”
“Right now, I do. Even if I let you go, how would you get back to Azure? The Faust is mine now.”
“General,” Jequn said.
General Kett turned back to her. “You know what will happen if Thraven wins. Is that what you want?”
“No, but we helped make Abbey into what she is. She’s our responsibility.”
“She’s dead,” Sylvan snapped. “Thraven
was on the planet with her. Do you think she was strong enough to beat him?”
Jequn paled. She glanced over at Bastion. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Bastion replied. “Me, too.”
“Colonel Brink,” Sylvan said.
“Yes, General?” the Colonel replied.
“Once we’ve moved to a safer location, I want you to find these so-called Rejects and consolidate them on the Brimstone.”
“Yes, General.”
Sylvan moved beside Bastion. “This isn’t up for discussion. If you want to be part of the solution, I’m happy to have you. If you want to cause problems? I can take care of those, too.”
Bastion stared at the General for a moment. He wanted to punch him in his smug face, but he kept himself restrained.
“Aye, sir. I want to be part of the solution, sir.”
“Good,” Sylvan said. “Set coordinates for FTL. We need to get away from here before Thraven returns.”
“Yes, sir,” Bastion replied.
He had been in prison before. He knew how to survive. He knew how to be patient. They would figure something out. He wasn’t giving up on Abbey. She had never given up on him.
And when Queenie got her hands on Kett?
There would be hell to pay.
46
Olus stumbled down the tunnel that had been dug into the earth beneath Manhattan. His body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming out. He wasn’t sure if he had been burned, or if the meds Dilixix had given him were the source of the agony. All he knew was that he needed to get back to her, to find out if there was some way to stop the pain.
The other Plixians in Little Plixar watched him curiously, most of them afraid to offer assistance. He avoided eye contact with them as he moved slowly through the passages, keeping a hand on the sides to steady himself. He probably looked drunk to them. He probably looked like a vagrant.
He had escaped the museum. He still wasn’t quite sure how. He had gone out a window, landing on the lawn, miraculously away from any of the bystanders who had witnessed the blast. He had rolled over to see the flames engulf the entire space, breaking the rest of the windows and rising into the night. They were intense, inhuman flames. Nothing should have survived inside, but he knew that Ruche and Elivee had. An Evolent and a Venerant had destroyed what remained of the Council’s opposition to Thraven’s agenda.
