by Scott Moon
That left Dax or Rebecca. The Ror-Rea King had his army positioned across the Angry Blue River from Droon’s horde. From what Rickson said, the Reapers helped Dax fight Imperials during the attempted rescue, yet Kin didn’t dare rely on that strange alliance. He needed to find Rebecca and convince her he wasn’t a traitor.
Would she trust him?
Kin saw signs of the Shock Troopers as he climbed the trail toward Bear’s cabin. Mounds of earth marked entrenched positions where a single Shock Trooper could command the heights. He admired the work. Had Nander sent a force this way, they would have paid a high price.
Each foxhole was empty, but prepared for use. Rebecca and Randal Dogface had prepared a multistage defense plan. Kin wondered where the Shock Troopers were and how many remained combat ready.
“Captain Trak, bring your squad up,” Kin said. The reply was clear. Once again, the technology of the SKIN units impressed Kin.
“Understood. We’re on the way.”
Trak appeared with his squad, then called up others until the platoon reformed into one unit.
“Move up this trail in a staggered column,” Kin said. “Be ready for an immediate-action drill. I’ll go first.”
“General,” Trak said. “That is against procedure.”
Kin lowered his helmet. “I want them to see me. If you go first, there will be a fight and we don’t have time for that.”
The sight of Bear’s cabin and the small outbuildings scattered on the uneven landscape brought back memories. He recalled Rickson following him during his quest to find Clavender what seemed a lifetime ago. Flowers bloomed in the clearing. Birds jumped from branch to branch.
He saw evidence of the Crater Town people, but there was no sign of Rebecca. He expected to find her in one of the defensive structures. It seemed odd she would go to this much trouble only to leave.
Laundry lines stretched between two trees, although few garments remained. A workbench contained tools and part of a door that one of Laura’s craftsmen had been fitting with reinforced beams.
“Laura!” Kin shouted. “Rebecca!”
No one answered.
Something moved on a ledge camouflaged by vines and scrub trees. Kin lowered his weapon and walked toward the house. Before long, Laura stood from her concealed position on the ridge. She rested a rifle on one hip and smiled disbelievingly, but with mischief. Her shirt gaped open from collar to cleavage. Kin suspected she had arranged the display before abandoning the hiding place.
She climbed down and crossed the narrow clearing. “I ordered everyone up the mountain when my scouts saw you approaching.”
“Good idea,” Kin said. “Where are the Shock Troopers?”
Laura ignored the question. “I see the shepherd lives.” She waggled the gun barrel toward Rickson and the dog as they hurried past the Imperial troopers on the trail.
Kin acknowledged Rickson and watched the ridge until Ogre bounded up in pursuit.
“Good dog,” Kin said as he rubbed behind the mutt’s ears. He looked down the mountainside. “Captain Trak, report.”
“Droon and his retinue still follow. Shall I make contact?”
“No. Keep me informed. Try to encourage Droon to come alone if that’s what he seems to be doing.”
“The Reapers haven’t attacked for the last three miles. I think they want to parley.”
“Reapers don’t parley.” Kin smiled at Laura. He hadn’t realized how much he missed and worried about her.
“Understood,” Trak said. “My units are in position to discourage Droon’s force.”
Kin spent several moments enjoying the sight of Laura, Rickson, and other citizens of Crater Town as they emerged from hiding places. He felt as though he had come home and wished the moment would last.
He waited for Rebecca and the rest of the Shock Troopers but was disappointed.
“Laura, we have some catching up to do,” Kin said.
She smiled and touched her cleavage with a fingertip. “I like the sound of that.”
Kin laughed. “What happened since the cavern? Where is Rebecca?”
“She told me you would ask.” She waved him to Bear’s cabin. He followed her inside, frowning at her non-answer. In a way, the absence of Rebecca’s Brigade, what was left of it, made sense. A good leader would keep her strength out of enemy reach. She probably thought Kin was acting under duress and the Imperials had planned an elaborate trap.
Kin wanted to think that was the case. If true, it implied Rebecca was alive and ready to fight.
Or she was avoiding him.
Kin sat with Laura at Bear’s table, surrounded by reminders of how the mountain man had lived. He’d been a lonely bachelor with numerous relics of his family and friends who died after his arrival on Crashdown. The furnishings were functional. Contrary to what the people of Crater Town thought about Bear, his cabin was neat and orderly.
“Orlan, Raien, and Tass were killed by Imperial troopers,” Kin said.
Laura closed her eyes and exhaled. When she looked up, her expression seemed concerned, but neither angry nor judgmental. “What are you doing with them?”
“I made a deal.”
“That’s not the Kin Roland I remember.”
Kin toyed with one of Bear’s knives. “I agreed to fight for them in exchange for your safety. I was promised a ship large enough to evacuate everyone who wants to leave Crashdown.”
“Can you be sure the Imperials will deliver?”
Kin smirked, still looking at the knife he rotated on the table. “I am as sure as any person can be. Let’s not get sidetracked. What happened in the cavern?”
Laura’s tale surprised Kin, although he might have expected it. After he fled with Nander by his side and scores of Slomn in pursuit, Laura and the others had been blocked at every passage. With no hope of escape, Laura led the ragged survivors back to the main cavern, hoping they might scatter. She reasoned a few people might slip past the aliens and survive.
“Many of the ships have been destroyed, but the largest has armor even the serpent men couldn’t crack. That’s where we sheltered.”
“Inside the ship?” Kin hesitated. “Were there people inside?”
“I want to say yes, but the captain of the ship would only talk to me by video monitor. Some of the others are convinced every word was part of a recorded message, something the ship computer dreamed up.”
Kin recalled Orlan’s observations of the cavern floor. He had been convinced people were living around the ships and had hidden when Laura’s group showed up. “Tell me more.”
“I’m not sure I understand it.”
Kin waited for her to organize her thoughts. She struggled with doubt before continuing.
“Captain Jackson of Her Majesty’s Ship Humanity barely spoke Fleet speech and the ship computer made numerous translation errors. Jackson was evasive about time. She refused to explain why the armada was dry docked below the mountain range. I’m not sure she knew the answer.”
Kin listened for details but felt time slipping away. He understood the ships were important. What he wanted to know was how to use them.
“Had they fought the Slomn before?” Kin asked.
Laura shrugged and made a face. “Again, it’s hard to say. It seemed as though her ships had fought a battle, but she seemed blocked from saying the words. I’m not sure, but Captain Jackson, assuming she’s not a computer-generated image, has a few screws loose.”
“Was she trying to remember?”
“I don’t think she was trying to be difficult. The woman was afraid to open her ship to help us. I think doing even that much made her fearful.” Laura waited for Kin to formulate another question.
“Did she say where the battle occurred?”
Laura nodded yes as she said no. “According to the good Captain Jackson, her ancestors defeated an unknown or unknowable enemy in a place called nowhere.”
“Can she take us to nowhere?”
Laura laughed uneasily. �
��I know you’re serious, Kin, but I don’t see the point. Jackson’s battle couldn’t have literally happened nowhere, so I assume she can take us there. All I want right now is to get on the ships the Imperials promised and get away from this planet.”
“That’s the plan, but I have to win a battle first. The Ror-Rea and the Imperials are fighting to reach a place they call the Bleeding Grounds. Each side believes the first to enter this place will be able to defeat anyone, even the Slomn,” Kin said.
Laura shifted on her chair, nodded along with his narrative, and held back questions.
“Whoever wins on the Bleeding Grounds will defeat their enemies as though they had never existed.”
Laura’s face went pale. Understanding washed over her. “That puts Jackson’s crazy talk into perspective. She kept saying she erased her enemies and almost erased herself in the process. That was when she started making a lot of jerking eye movements and refused to sit still. She stood several times and paced out of camera view. I thought she was on drugs.”
“Can she take us there?”
“I’m not sure I want to go,” Laura said.
“Me neither, but it is the only way to stop the Slomn.”
Meeting Dax, Droon, and Commander Westwood on Bear’s front lawn with Crater Town laundry hanging on clotheslines in the background felt more appropriate than Kin could believe. Where else should the fate of the universe be decided? If he could get the refugee children to scream a little louder and kick the can between Westwood’s generals and his troopers, life would be perfect. Perhaps Droon’s Reapers could be enticed to dance a chorus line with Dax’s bodyguards.
Stranger things had happened.
Kin suppressed a smile. He wasn’t known for random outbursts of humor. If his would-be allies witnessed insane laughter, he’d be done in the coalition-building business.
Three Earth Fleet companies outnumbered the single company Kin had summoned to stand by the negotiations, a calculated risk his advisers hated.
What Kin hated was the idea of Westwood stalling or backing out. The man would be a bigger fool than Kin remembered to attack under the current circumstances. Westwood wasn’t a fanatic or a martyr. He wanted to win. He wanted glory and riches if possible. Both goals required survival as a primary agenda item.
So maybe they had just a tiny bit of common interest.
Kin’s Imperial company of heavy infantry contained four Light-armored Vehicles as auxiliaries, which evened the odds a bit. Kin could summon a hundred times Westwood’s number, while the Earth Fleet admiral could call devastating orbital strikes. After three days of naval skirmishes, Westwood had a slight advantage around Crashdown, but only because he yielded any chance to escape the system. The Imperial Fleet surrounded the smaller Earth Fleet at a cautious distance. It was like three armed men watching a dangerous dog gnaw on a bone.
Admiral Westwood handed Kin the computer tablet, displeasure and grudging acceptance written large on his face. His personal commandos had been given a tour of the Slomn caverns. They brought back evidence he couldn’t deny. The facts sobered him.
“The old Earth Fleet ships were attacked by a strong force of Slomn warriors. Most vessels were destroyed. Only the larger and more heavily armored ships remain,” Kin said.
Westwood snorted. Kin’s bodyguards tensed at the insult.
“Those freaks can destroy those ancient ships at will. It’s a trap. I thought you would see that, Kin.”
A tremor ran across the ground, causing everyone to stare at their feet. Kin recovered first.
“I have no intention of walking into a trap. I intend to draw the Slomn into our trap.” Kin risked a glance at Dax, then returned to business.
“Captain Trak will explain the operation. He has video evidence to support each claim I’ve made and detailed plans to address the more problematic issues. Dax, I need to speak with you.”
Westwood stepped between Kin and the King of the Ror-Rea. “That won’t do. I can’t allow private side-meetings after I’ve honored your other terms. When you’ve been in charge a bit longer, you will understand how that kind of thing starts rumors.”
“The morale of Earth Fleet isn’t my concern,” Kin said.
Westwood gave him a hard look that displayed his opinion of Kin’s leadership skill. “You should know better. Force me to save face, and I will do it at your expense. How does that serve the ceasefire?”
Kin understood the man was right. He wished he could have met with Dax before now. Things would have been easier. He could’ve asked how Clavender was doing, learned if she intended to help fight the Slomn. As things were, he was negotiating in every direction with little chance of success.
He nodded toward Bear’s cabin, then followed Westwood and Dax inside. Droon bounced around the yard, hissing and chipping his teeth at Imperial soldiers, Earth Fleet troopers, and Ror-Rea Warriors. Kin wished he could have delayed contact with Droon.
He was doing a lot of wishing lately. In the past, it never did much good. Speaking to Trak and his other officers through a secure radio link, he reminded them to avoid acts of violence — even when it came to a half-mad Reaper King prancing like a lunatic.
Westwood walked straight to the large table, rested his left fist without sitting, and attacked the point. “My sources believe you lack the support of the Ror-Rea. I can’t guarantee cooperation without assurances.”
Dax stared at Westwood, down on him, rather. It was easy to forget how tall the Ror-Rea was because many of his chief rivals stood a head taller. Inside the rustic room with the low ceiling and uneven floor, Dax appeared regally intimidating.
Westwood didn’t flinch. He crossed his arms and stood near the stove.
Dax growled as he spoke. “I risked my life to attempt the rescue of Kin Roland. At my daughter’s request. She is the key to victory, have no doubt. Worry about her support of Kin, not mine. The warriors of the Ror-Rea respect his fighting ability and know my daughter holds him dear.”
Westwood pondered the declaration.
Through a small window, Kin observed Droon with a mixed group of Earth Fleet and Imperial troopers watching him squat. Droon struck his face and hopped up and down in agitation.
“Dax, how is Clavender?” Kin asked.
Long moments passed. “I no longer know her heart. It seems she suffered a physical injury or heartbreak. The wisest of the High Lords fear the wormhole has been damaged by the Imperials and she suffers pain we cannot comprehend.”
“The wormhole has been sabotaged,” Kin said. “The Slomn subverted it using their alien technology. General Nander destroyed their beacons, losing his life in the process. My advisers tell me this means the Slomn must attack soon.”
Dax and Westwood listened.
“With your permission, I would speak to her in private. She is the key to victory. Without her help reaching the place you call the Bleeding Ground, our chances are slim.”
“And I would like clarification on that point,” Westwood said. “What is the Bleeding Ground? Why must we rely on the Ror-Rea princess? I can’t imagine any force in this universe that could stand against the combined might of Earth Fleet, the Mazz Empire, Dax’s warriors, and the Reaper horde.”
“The Slomn have destroyed armadas greater than anything you have imagined.” Kin activated a tablet and showed video footage of a space battle. Dax remained stoic, but Westwood clenched his jaw, his fists, and exhaled forcefully several times as Slomn warships — and individuals of the serpent race — tearing through an Imperial fleet ten times larger than Kin now commanded.
“When can I speak with Clavender?” Kin asked.
Dax continued to stare at the computer screen long after the images faded to black. “I will take you to her at once.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
KIN left the cabin and walked to the field of wildflowers that served as Bear’s front lawn. Westwood and Dax followed. Soldiers and warriors from each force, except for the squads surrounding Droon, watched intently
.
The Reaper screamed and howled like Kin had never heard, not even on Hellsbreach. His Reapers fled in all directions, naked fear on their faces and in their panicked movements.
“Droon,” Kin said. “Why are your kindred running?”
The Reaper King grunted. Kin didn’t know the Reaper word but thought it meant something like burning skies.
“Cla-ven-da!” Droon cried the name over and over. He gave Kin a final look, mounted his war steed, and raced toward the Ror-Rea camp miles away.
“He’s going after my daughter!” Dax sprinted forward and leapt into the air. His warriors followed him. The strongest among them raced ahead of their king to save the Sun Princess.
“Westwood, we better help Dax.”
“Understood,” Westwood said, moving toward his officers.
Kin issued orders for his troopers to move.
The Slomn equivalent of an artillery barrage came without warning. Nothing in Kin’s experience compared. Even a planetary bombardment seemed civilized in contrast to the molten fire bursting from the ground. Earth Fleet and Imperial air strikes came down. The nuclear fire of the Slomn came up.
Kin couldn’t see the peak that exploded first. It was too far away, too deep in the Crashdown mountain range. Within minutes, there were many others, the closest a few valleys over. Burning debris, smoke, and clouds of dust burst skyward from planetary shotguns.
In other places, he saw fissures of flame erupt from vents too symmetrical to be natural volcanism. At the end of the valley he viewed, the mother of all plasma beams thrust from the bed of a river, vaporizing the water in a flash of steam. An Earth Fleet platoon ceased to exist. Others fled the destruction in panic.
Columns of heat thrust to the sky like the deadly swords of gods. Droon was nowhere to be seen. Winged warriors fell from the sky like thousands of phoenixes. Kin doubted they would rise again. He closed his helmet, commanded his troopers to advance on the Ror-Rea camp, and led the way.
