“What now?” Parker asked, as they watched the giant alien ship drifting in their wake through the hangar bay.
The hangar bay doors opened slowly and the ship’s Operators were launching more drones. Most of the attack drones had been lost during the initial attack, but the maintenance drones had tools that would be useful if the teardrop-shaped ships tried to tow the Apache back to the alien vessel.
“We wait,” Dean said, trying not to sound as tired and sick over their losses as he actually felt. “And hope Masterson can get us out of this mess.”
“I don’t really like depending on someone else to bail me out when I get into trouble,” Parker said. “But I have to admit, seeing your platoon in action was inspiring.”
“This was a shit show from the beginning. I should have said so when I had the chance,” Dean replied.
“The brass doesn’t take well to platoon leaders dictating policy,” she said.
“No, maybe not, but they should start. This went down exactly the way I feared. One platoon, against an entire ship of aliens. It’s a miracle any of us made it out of there alive.”
“We made it out because you’re a good leader, Dean. You understood the situation, took action where it was needed, saved the ship, and salvaged the mission.”
“Then why can I only think about the three Specialists I lost,” Dean said.
“You don’t know that you lost all three,” Parker said. “And that’s a small price to pay for the intel we got.”
“I disagree,” Dean said. “I think the price was much too high.”
“Sir,” Chavez said, bounding over from the stairwell, followed by Wilson, Teller, Adkins, and Harper, who were towing the body of the captured Kroll. “Fanning and Sergeant Brodus are secure in the Mess Hall. Corporal Valosky’s body is there as well. Some of the kitchen staff are helping Corporal Landin render aid.”
“Good, thank you Chavez. Make sure you’re all tied down so we can fight if we have to.”
“My pleasure sir,” the Staff Sergeant said.
“They really respect you,” Parker said on a private channel that was just between the two of them.
“I’ve gotten someone killed on every mission I’ve been on,” Dean said. “It’s a wonder anyone will serve under me at all.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Captain. You did what we were trained to do. And if you hadn’t, it wouldn’t just be three casualties. We could have lost the entire platoon, or worse still, the entire crew of this ship. We’re all going home because of your brave-”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. The teardrop-shaped alien ship raced into the hangar of the Apache and exploded, sending everyone in Dean’s platoon crashing to the deck. Their armor saved them from the concussion of the blast, and most of the shrapnel that was sent hurling through the hangar and into the atrium of the ship.
Without warning the electro-magnetic containment field failed and the hangar bay, along with the entire ship, was suddenly exposed to hard vacuum. Everything on Alpha deck that wasn’t secured was suddenly sucked to the hangar and blown out of the EsDef ship. The tethers were the only things keeping Dean’s platoon from being lost as well, although their bodies were battered against the deck like ribbons caught in a tornado.
Dean’s ears were ringing and he felt sluggish as his TCU visor cleared and he could see again a few seconds after the explosion. His battle helmet switched automatically to enhanced night vision and the entire deck came into view via the ghostly green light of his HUD. Most of his platoon were unconscious, floating above the deck like helium balloons. The body of the Kroll was wedged under the struts of one of the shuttles while blobs of dark blood bubbled up from its torn and twisted body. As if from a long distance away, Dean could hear voices. They were hard to make out at first, but slowly his hearing returned to normal and he could hear Admiral Masterson giving orders on the bridge through his battle armor’s comlink.
“Someone has to be able to fire the gravity drive again or we’re all dead!” he was shouting.
Dean looked around but the maintenance crew were missing, and it didn’t take much intelligence to realize they had been expelled from the ship by the suction of hard vacuum. There was still atmosphere whistling past Dean, but he was able to climb along the floor of the ship without too much trouble. The deck was made of high tensile plates with a honeycomb pattern, but the spaces in the pattern made perfect hand holds, and the vacuum was not so extreme that Dean couldn’t force his way toward the huge gravity drive.
“Admiral,” Dean said in a shaky voice. “I’m at the gravity drive.”
“Blaze? What’s happened down there? We’ve lost propulsion.”
“An explosion,” Dean said.
“I bloody well know that. Where are my maintenance personnel?”
“Looks like most were lost when the magnet field sealing the hangar failed,” Dean replied.
“Holy hell, the Kroll are going to retake the ship,” Masterson said in a defeated voice.
“Sir, I’m here. Tell me what to do,” Dean said.
“Captain Blaze,” the chief engineer’s voice said. “There’s an emergency power switch. It’s a big red lever. Pull it down.”
“I see it,” Dean said.
He had to maneuver his way around the large gravity drive. He had no idea how any of it worked, and it seemed like a miracle it hadn’t been completely ruined by the explosion, but most of the shrapnel from the hangar had been too small to cause much damage to the huge device.
“I’ve got it,” Dean said as he reached the handle. It took more effort than he expected, but he managed to pull it down. He heard what sounded like turbines spinning up and then the lights came on around the ship and his TCU switched automatically back to normal vision.
“You’ve got to activate the gravity drive using the touch screen,” the chief engineer said. “Once the power is back in the green, just press the activation icon. Do you see it?”
“Yes, but the screen is cracked,” Dean said, as he watched the power indicator climbing back up toward optimum levels.
“You have to activate it on your end, Blaze. Otherwise we can’t do anything up here.”
Dean waited, glancing around him as the hangar doors closed and the escaping atmosphere settled again. Everyone and everything was drifting so peacefully in the zero gravity that it seemed impossible they were so close to losing the entire ship. Dean turned back to the screen and willed the power display to rise faster. He knew every second they waited made them even more vulnerable to the Kroll ships. The explosion in the hangar had destroyed every drone left in the racks, not to mention the launching apparatus. If the drones in action couldn’t fend off the Kroll pod ships, they were done for.
Suddenly the light on the status bar changed from red to green. Dean pressed the gravity drive icon, but nothing happened. He pressed it again and again, still nothing.
“What’s going on down there, Captain?” Masterson said in an anxious voice.
“It isn’t working sir. The screen is busted and it won’t activate.”
“Then we’re dead,” the admiral said in defeat.
“Try taking off your glove,” Parker said in a voice that was thick with pain.
Dean looked at his hand, realizing his armor might be interfering with the touch screen controls. The glove was sealed to the rest of his armor, but it had an emergency removal flap. Dean pulled it up, unzipped the glove, removed the layer of adhesive with a tug from his other hand, then slipped the glove off his hand one finger at a time. With his hand free he pressed the screen and heard a welcome beep from the system. The message on the screen changed to a schematic of the gravity drive. Dean felt a sudden sense of weight and dropped to his knees.
“We’re back on line!” the chief engineer shouted.
Dean didn’t hear anything else, the words and sounds all ran together, morphing into a dull roar in his ears. He closed his eyes, his body felt weak in the sudden sense of g
ravity, and he didn’t fight the fatigue pulling him down into the sweet embrace of oblivion.
Chapter 39
The Apache was going home, but it wasn’t a straight course. Admiral Masterson understood that the Kroll might follow them, and rushing back to the Sol system was foolish. Instead, he broke the trip up, doing the galactic equivalent of zigging and zagging. He even changed directions, moving further away from home twice. Dean didn’t mind, they were out of immediate danger and there was plenty for his platoon to do on the trip home.
Dean was used to filing reports, but Captain Parker used the time to record the impressions that the other members of the Recon platoon had of the mission, once everyone had received medical attention and enough rest to feel like themselves again. The interviews took hours and Dean insisted on being with each member of his platoon as they were questioned. Captain Parker was not relentlessly aggressive in the interviews, nor was she needlessly antagonistic, but Dean still felt responsible for his platoon and didn’t want them to think they were being set up as a scapegoat.
It was impossible not to feel like the mission was a failure. Most of the maintenance crew had been killed by the explosion of the alien tug ship that detonated like a bomb in the Apache’s hangar bay. The body of the Kroll was put into a containment pod, as was the body of Fast Attack Corporal Kathryn Valosky. Dean prepared a memorial for her, and Emily Harper sat with the body until it was sealed in the pod for transit back to Earth. A sense of sadness hung over the entire crew.
Dean opted to have his platoon work maintenance shifts to help ensure that the Apache made it home without delay. There would be plenty of time for training, at least in his estimation, before they had to fight again, and most of them were favoring some sort of wound after being blasted with shrapnel from the explosion in the hangar. Doing more productive work, such as repairing areas of the ship damaged in the fight, was in many ways therapeutic for Dean and his platoon.
Sergeant Grady “Ghost” Brodus was stitched up, forced to do nothing but recuperate for a week, then returned to duty. The Apache didn’t have a proper medical bay or ship’s doctor. A med tech, with about as much training as Corporal Landin, oversaw the treatment of the wounded. Private Carter had large areas with third degree burns on his back. He would need reconstructive surgery, but the wounds weren’t life threatening even though he had to stay off his feet until they returned to the Sol system.
Sloan Fanning would also need surgery to repair her knee, but unlike Carter she had no trouble getting around the ship on crutches with her leg in a brace to keep her from further injury. The pain medication she was given improved her personality considerably, and she flirted shamelessly with the members of Dean’s platoon. She never said a word about what happened on the Kroll ship, but she didn’t sulk or berate anyone for the failure of the diplomatic mission. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the pain medication, or a simple change of heart, but Sloan was pleasant and friendly whenever he was around her.
A full month passed before they reached the solar system. They were still an hour away from their first stop on Space Base 13 where Dean and Captain Parker would be required to undergo what they both knew would an intensive and grueling debrief. For his part Dean wondered if perhaps a discharge wouldn’t be the best thing for him. The entire ship was calling him a hero, but he didn’t feel like a hero. Valosky was dead, and it was his fault. He should have left the Kroll behind and kept at least one HA Specialist in the lead as they retreated from the alien ship. Cat had died because he hadn’t been careful enough. There was nothing heroic in any of the things he had done. And while the Apache had escaped the ambush set up by the Kroll, the diplomatic mission had failed. He was tired of seeing his platoon members die and nothing Captain Parker or Admiral Masterson said could make him shake off the grief that clung to him like a death shroud.
He was putting the last of his personal belongings into his rucksack, a procedure that had become second nature to him after so many different assignments as an Off World Force Recon Officer. Growing up, all Dean had ever wanted was to be a soldier in the Recon division of the Extra Solar Defense Force, but after his tour on the Apache Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted any more. The only bright spot in life was his relationship with Esma, and for all he knew she was still in a coma.
The familiar chime of incoming mail pulled him away from packing. He walked over to his desk in the small office attached to his quarters. The message icon was flashing and Dean tapped it with a finger. There were several messages waiting for him. Most were what Dean thought of as junk mail. Reminders from EsDef about various reports to be filed. Statements from his bank which were sent out monthly as a record of his account activity. And buried among the mundane messages was a short note from Captain Esmerelda Dante.
Dean’s heart leaped in his chest and he dropped into the chair as he pulled up the message. As usual, Esma’s message was short and to the point, yet poignant just the same. Dean read it and reread it, his eyes blurring with tears at the first happy news he’d received since leaving on the fateful mission.
I’m awake, and anxious to see you.
E
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Avondale Chapter 1
Tiberius
The Prefect was explaining a rather tedious section of the sacred scripture. Tiberius, third son of Lord Aegus, didn’t always hate the Prefect’s lectures. There were sections of the ancient scriptures that were full of battles or intense showdowns between the servants of Addoni, the one true god, and Rastimus, the deceiver. Unfortunately today was not one of those lectures, but rather a long explanation of the history of Addoni’s followers.
Tiberius did his best to pay attention, but his mind kept returning to the martial drills that were coming up in the next few days. He’d failed both his sword test and his hand-to-hand fighting test. If he didn’t pass the martial drills, he’d would never become a Paladin; instead, he would be forced to become a Priest. In truth, Tiberius didn’t want to be a Paladin or a Priest, nor did he relish the idea of becoming a Prefect teaching in dull classrooms all day. But what Tiberius wanted wasn’t important to anyone, certainly not his father or his older brother, Leonosis, who all but ruled Avondale in their father’s place. Tiberius had never whispered his own dream to anyone; it was too dangerous. His greatest desire was forbidden. In fact, it was Tiberius’ great shame that he longed for it all. He did his best to choke down his dream, and focus on the reality of what his life would be.
The gong of the huge warning bell sounded, and the tedious lecture was suddenly cut short.
“Ah, ah, class...” the startled Prefect stammered.
Tiberius didn’t wait to hear the dismissal. Instead, he raced out of the lecture hall and sprinted up the wide stone steps that made up the city streets of Avondale, toward the great wall that encircled the entire mountaintop city. His heart was pounding and he was breathing heavily by the time he reached the royal castle. From there, he turned into the round lookout tower and climbed the steep spiral staircase that led to the top of the structure.
His legs burned, and his side cramped, but the warning bell continued to ring, so Tiberius kept climbing. Each massive peel of the huge brass bell reverberated through the city, and Tiberius felt the vibrations deep in the pit of his stomach. The warning bell was only sounded when the city was under attack by one of the massive creatures from the blighted lowlands, and Tiberius was anxious to see what was throwing his father into a panic.
He was gasping for breath by the time he finally reached the top of the watchtower. There were half a dozen men, all in uniform, staring out over the southern edge of the city. Tiberius hurried over to the thick, wooden guard that ran around the edge of the t
ower. He leaned against the wooden frame, his body sagging from fatigue. Stamina was never his strong suit, he admitted bitterly.
Most of the lowlands were covered with a thick layer of clouds, effective blocking most of the view for miles and miles around Avondale. The city itself was like a finely wrought wedding band, built on the circular top of an extinct volcano. The city was built of stone and timber, running around the massive wall that was built on the mountain’s circular lip. Inside the city was a massive crater, green with life. The edges were terraced and farmed by the freemen of Avondale under Tiberius’ father’s watchful eye. Beyond the green fields were massive trees, mostly pine, growing tall and strong; even when the snows fell, the trees were green. And in the very center was the crown jewel of Avondale, a deep lake of fresh, untainted water that supplied the city with drinking water and the fields with irrigation so that Avondale had more than enough, year after year.
None of that registered to Tiberius, even though his gaze fell across the wonder of his father’s city. He was focused instead on the huge creature slowly climbing up the rugged mountainside. It was huge, taller than the city walls and nearly as wide. It had huge legs with three-toed claws that dug into the mountainside as it lumbered forward. Its head was round, with a flat face and flapping jowls that hung on either side of enormous teeth that protruded from the creature’s mouth at odd angles. Two massive horns came up on either side of the creature’s head, angling up and then curving back toward each other over the top of the beast’s round head. Its eyes were tiny and completely black. Its body was thick and round, the belly almost touching the ground.
Embracing Oblivion: Wolfpack Book 3 Page 26
