A starfighter flew closer and opened fire.
Jozi evaded just as Gragas fired a few rounds.
The photon charges flew like a bat out of hell, slamming into the Dunrakee’s cockpit. Sparks shot forward and cracked the cockpit window.
The starfighter spun away.
“You almost got him,” said Ozzy.
“No, I did get him. The pilot is dead. My shots were true.”
Ozzy closed one eye, aiming the best he could. In most cases, Ozzy would have a little, if not a gang, of butterflies circling his innards. For some reason, he was calm next to this guy.
He pulled the trigger, missing again.
Being next to him didn’t help his shot, though.
Gragas slapped Ozzy’s helmet. “Will you focus and pay attention?”
“It ain’t easy, Mr. Perfect. It’s not every day I’m riding a ship like a bull, firing my gun at bubble-heads trying to kill me.”
“Stop calling my race bubble-heads. It’s unevolved.”
“But trying to kill my entire race is fine? I’ll make sure not to hurt their feelings anymore,” he said.
“Thank you,” replied Gragas. Apparently, Ozzy’s sarcasm was lost on him.
Jozi put the craft in a sudden descent, avoiding a barrage of photon cannon fire.
Gragas rolled, his boots clanking loudly against the roof. He leaned over the side and pressed his trigger. A photon bolt expelled, and he rolled back. “Got him.”
The Hawk bounced violently. A sizzle of fire and electric sparks blanketed the roof. Ozzy covered his radiation visor with his arms. The last thing he needed was a burnt hole in his helmet.
He uncovered his visor, and thick black smoke was now fogging his vision.
“We’ve been hit,” Jozi yelled.
“Have you lost the controls?” Ozzy said.
“No. I’m keeping her steady. We’re just losing speed is all. A few more minutes and we’ll be entering Tagus Valles.”
Hopefully, they’d let them in a flyway port that wasn’t damaged by the Dunrakee. They could steer their beat-up ship to Jonas’s compound as fast as the craft would allow.
If their ship was still intact by that time.
“Problem, guys,” said Jozi.
Ozzy rolled his eyes. Of course. “Yes?”
“More ships inbound. A dozen or more starfighters are on their way.”
Gragas grunted. “That’s a challenge, not a problem. Level her out, Jozi. We’ll take out as many as we can.”
She did as instructed. The smoke died down, and Ozzy’s mouth about dropped to the bottom of his helmet. “That’s more than a dozen.”
Twenty or more Dunrakee starfighters were on their way to join the one remaining starfighter chasing the Hawk. An armada of battle cruisers, battleships, and destroyers was on the starfighter’s six o’clock.
To say they were outmatched and outgunned was the biggest understatement in the history of Mars.
“Ozzy, take a deep breath. Drown out all that bothers you. Push it away by focusing your mind on your photon blaster and the closest Dunrakee fighter. Partner with your weapon and ask it to guide your aim to your target.”
What in Marsballs was Gragas talking about? Was he taking him through some Galactic Knight’s mind training?
Gragas shifted in his position and then stilled like a mannequin. Ozzy could hear Gragas’s breathing ease. “Let go of everything, and let the Great Creator guide your body.”
Gragas took a shot, splitting the nearest starfighter’s wing in half. It bucked to the right, heading toward the sandy ground. “If you allow it, the Great Creator helps those in need, such as us. We do not want to die, and the Great Creator knows this. It does not support those invading another Beings space, especially if the invader intends to end another Beings life.”
A Dunrakee starfighter rounded on their position, coming close, much too close. The sky thundered, shaking the Hawk.
Ozzy flinched and crawled backward, his eyes on the Dunrakee cockpit. He could see the Dunrakee pilot inside. The alien’s rough, mottled skin was drawn taut, creating harsh angles from its brow, cheeks, and jaw. Several rounded protrusions ran the length of its scalp like a bubble-Mohawk.
He looked mean, and he looked hungry to kill.
A smirk twisted on the Dunrakee’s black lips, forming a wicked smile.
Yep, the evil bastard was as ugly as Mars’s dump stations.
Gragas didn’t move, concentrating. He sent another flurry of shots, riddling the cockpit with a few dozen pin-pointed holes.
The Dunrakee flailed back and forth at every hit, its blood splattering across the cockpit. “It’s Universal Law that says we have the right to defend ourselves, and the Great Creator supports that law as long as we use it wisely and only when we are attacked.”
Gragas holstered his weapon, holding his hand out to Ozzy.
Ozzy looked him up and down. “Yeah? Can you tell this Great Creator of yours to magically delete these Dunrakee invaders from existence?”
“I want my gun back, please.”
Ozzy pushed out his bottom lip. “But there are more coming.”
“The Great Creator also knows when we are outnumbered. And so do I.” He wiggled his hand in front of Ozzy. “Give me my gun. It’s time to get back in the cabin and pray we make it out alive.”
Ozzy handed him the gun and inched his way to the cabin door. “Open it, Jozi.”
“It is.”
Ozzy looked over the edge, peering into the cabin. He held onto the roof and kicked his foot on the side wall next to the door, magnetizing it in place.
He swung his body around, grabbed the side of the doorway, and pulled himself in. He rushed to the copilot seat, sitting down and out of breath.
Gragas came in, and Jozi shut the door. “Thanks, you two,” she said. “We’re about a minute away.” Sweat covered her face. “All of my maydays are being ignored, though.”
Tagus Valles’ city dome was closing in fast.
A beep sounded loudly inside the cockpit. They were being targeted by too many Dunrakee starfighters to count. Ozzy didn’t know if he even had time to calculate how many seconds he still had to live.
He wished he had his good-luck charm taped to the console—Lily’s picture. He could have one last smile and see her face one last time.
The craft shook.
Another hit.
“Hold on,” said Jozi, pulling the control stick toward her. “I’m going to come in on the other side of the dome and head into the east flyway port. They better let us in.” She veered the craft to the right. “That’s if we can actually make it out of this,” she said under her breath.
More beeps filled the cockpit. These were different. They were alerts not target locks. But why?
Ozzy looked around. Something was wrong.
“It’s about time,” yelled Jozi, her eyes dead-panned on something off in the distance.
Ozzy followed her eyes. He couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you, Jonas.”
38
Tagus Valles, Mars
“I count more than sixty of Jonas’s crafts in the air,” Jozi said, a smile building on her face.
Sixty or more S-6 Hawk’s flew by them, sending all the energy weapons they had at the incoming Dunrakee.
Jozi pointed at her rear cam in the corner of her screen. “Look at that.”
Lights and explosions sprinkled the sky behind them. The Dunrakee were attempting to turn tail and run, but the fires popping up and disintegrating in the air were all Dunrakee craft.
This time the Dunrakee were outnumbered.
The com channel rang, and Jonas came on the screen. He was still in the dark room. “I’m in my bunker, and stay your asses out of the dome. We’ll hold them off, but we’ll be falling back when the cruisers and battleships are in range. We’ll hide underground.”
Jozi pulled the craft around the dome, heading to the entrance. “No can do, Jonas. This is the closest city to us. I don’t think
this ship can make it to another dome.”
“That’s not the point,” growled Jonas. “We’ve chased off Wildly’s men, but I can’t get out of my bunker in fear that a few assassins are around. We haven’t swept the area clean yet.” His lips trembled. “Ozzy, you have to open the lid to the Ark when the armada is near. The skies will be clear of my ships in ten minutes. Do you understand?” Jonas’s eyebrows rose. There was real fear in his eyes. “I was hoping to meet you out there, but it’s not going to happen.”
Ozzy shook his head. The damn Ark was a dud, and even if it weren’t, Ozzy and Jonas being of the bloodline were far-fetched and a myth on its own.
But Jonas had told him he knew someone of the bloodline that could operate this thing.
“Get your guy out here and now,” Ozzy demanded.
Jonas sat straight. “You are the guy. Gragas told me before he screwed me over and blew up the city of Dawes.” Jonas shifted in his seat, eyeing Gragas. “Gragas, you knew I had a shitload of auric in Dawes Bank, and you blowing up that city deleted all my accounts there.”
The com channel blipped off.
Jozi pulled away from the dome and lowered the craft. She pointed toward a few rocky hills. “I’m landing over there.”
Ozzy turned, facing Gragas. “I thought Jonas had a bounty on your head?”
“He does,” replied Gragas. “Deep down he has some good virtues, and that’s why I told him about you shortly before he put that bounty on my head. I also told him about the Ark of the Concordant and how you were the best qualified to be around it. That’s why he hired you and not any other archaeologist. And that’s why you need to join the Galactic Knights. You’re a valuable tool in this galaxy.”
“You’re trying every which way to get me to join your cult, aren’t you?”
Gragas shook his head vehemently and slapped Ozzy’s shoulder. “It is what it is. You and I will open this Ark together, and we’ll concentrate the way I showed you on the craft’s roof, okay? Where two come together with the same focused goal and action, the greater the degree to which our aims will flow.” He put his hands together, dipping his head. “Do you understand, Ozzy?”
Ozzy’s eyes darted around the cabin and cockpit. “Uh…sure, Buddy.” This focus nonsense was a little over his head.
Gragas shook Ozzy’s shoulder. “I need you to understand. It’s for the life of your people. It’s for the life of your daughter. You and the Ark must be one.”
Ozzy shrugged. “Alright.” If this experiment with the Ark didn’t work, then his daughter and the rest of the population would either be overrun by the Dunrakee pieces-of-Mars rat dung or overrun by an Ark of the Concordant misfire.
If the Ark truly worked, then Ozzy had to get this right.
Jozi pulled the ship into a hover and slowly descended. “The S-6 Hawks are already breaking formation. They’re heading back to Tagus Valles.”
The craft bounced and vibrated when it landed. They were at the base of a hill. The cabin door opened, and the outside chill breezed inside.
Gragas pulled the Ark toward the doorway. “Help me out, Ozzy.”
Ozzy hurried to the Ark’s other side. He curled his fingers around the staffs and pushed. The Ark slid forward. “Where are the rest of the Galactic Knights?”
Gragas backed up, stepping out of the craft. “I’m in constant communication with them. They have done their job and are leading the star carrier back here.” He pulled the Ark toward him.
Ozzy stopped pushing. “They’re doing what? That will bring more Dunrakee fleets our way.”
Gragas threw a dismissive hand. “My Knights already decimated most of the fleet they were fighting. The ones that will follow my crew will be blasted out of the sky.”
“Do your Knights have any information about the Martian Marines?”
“Yes, and they aren’t doing such a good job at holding the Dunrakee off. In your terms, they are losing the battle and being overrun.”
Damn.
“Tell your Knights that they will be in the line of fire, Gragas.” Ozzy tightened his fists. “Well, that’s if this Ark works.”
Gragas dragged the Ark onto the sand and away from the Hawk. He touched his mask where his ear would be. He nodded and looked up at Ozzy. “We aim true with the Ark and intend for the Ark only to kill the Dunrakee invaders, then this will be successful. It’s all about the intent, and a pure intent at that.”
Ozzy stepped out of the Hawk and leaned against the side of the craft. He let out a loud breath, staring off into the horizon. Dunrakee star cruisers and battleships were on their way. They’d be overhead in a few minutes if not sooner. “We’ll have to hurry our butt’s up. They’ll turn Tagus Valles into dust faster than you can say my name.”
Gragas put his hand on the lid. “You ready?”
Ozzy walked over to the Ark, placing his hand on the other side of the lid. He looked over his shoulder at the Hawk. Jozi was in the doorway, her hands over her stomach, probably holding in her nerves.
“Get inside and fly far away, Jozi,” Ozzy ordered.
Jozi snorted. “Not a chance.”
“You might die.”
“Then I die.”
Ozzy glanced at Gragas who cocked his head to the side. “Begin?”
“Yes.”
“Close your eyes and imagine the Ark is a spotlight. In your mind, aim that spotlight at the coming armada, and ask the Ark to guide its ferocious power to the Dunrakee invaders and to the Dunrakee invaders only.”
“Okay, and then just open the lid?” If this worked, then holy shit. If not, then they were dead and the rest of humanity would follow.
This better work.
The roar of the oncoming armada shook the ground. The enemy ships would be on Tagus Valles in seconds.
“We open the lid, and the energy coming from the Ark will bend at our will because we are of the bloodline. After your imagining, tell me you’re ready. We’ll pull the lid off on your mark.”
Ozzy closed his eyes. “Whatever you say, Boss.” This was almost too much. Regardless, he imagined a gush of light flowing out of the Ark and punching the armada in the middle, turning them into nothing but embers.
Only the Dunrakee, he thought. Only hit the Dunrakee, except Gragas.
He yelped, arched back, and convulsed. His fingernails dug into his palms and he squeezed them tightly. He cringed, his teeth chomping down on each other, grinding hard.
His knees went weak, and he lost balance, falling against the Ark but managing to stay on his feet.
“Concentrate, Ozzy. I am doing the same.”
He used the Ark to hold himself up. “I am.” He tried to open his eyes. They wouldn’t move. A bright light encompassed the vision behind his eyelids.
He winced in pain, wanting to fall to one knee. He pushed against this urge and remained standing. “I can’t do this, Gragas.”
“You already are. On your mark, Ozzy.”
On my mark? “What are you talking about? I thought I was already on my mark. I’m doing what you asked and imagining.”
“We have to open the lid, and I’ll need your help,” Gragas said.
A rush of heat enveloped Ozzy, and he dropped his chin to his chest, letting out a scream. A thousand needle-like sensations went up and down his arms and legs, stinging every nerve in his body. “It hurts.” Perspiration dripped down his armpits and forehead.
“In three seconds we open the lid,” Gragas said.
“No. I can’t. I have to stop.”
“Two.”
“I can’t do it anymore,” hollered Ozzy, pain overcoming him.
“One.” The lid moved. “Open the lid, Ozzy.”
Ozzy pushed the lid open, losing his grip. It fell against the sand. The howl of a million ghosts filled the air, and Ozzy fell on the ground, writhing in agony and feeling thousands of volts grabbing every synapse and every nerve inside him.
He still couldn’t open his eyes, and light permeated everywhere.
Explosions filled the heavens. He rolled over, feeling another zap rush up his lower back to his head, stabbing his brain.
His head pounded in agony. “I can’t take this, Gragas.”
“Just a little longer. Focus on the Dunrakee attackers.”
Ozzy did, imagining Dunrakee starfighters, cruisers, and every ship he knew in the Dunrakee armada exploding.
He trembled, and tears dripped from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He dropped to the Martian dust.
He went to push off the ground and pull himself out of this stabbing agony, but his equilibrium changed, and he fell back onto the crimson soil.
He was dizzy, and the world spun around him. “I can’t open my eyes.”
“There is a reason. You don’t want to see what I’m seeing.”
His heart sank. What did that mean? “What’s happening?” Then his heart slowed. He let out a big, loud yawn and cringed in pain. He held his ribs. They felt like they were being ripped out, one by one. “Help me, Gragas.”
“I can’t, Ozzy. I’m—”
Gragas’s voice faded away, and Ozzy’s ears rang like they were next to a loud gong.
Ozzy reached for where he thought Jozi might be and screamed as loud as he could. “Get me out of here.”
Then everything went black.
39
Tagus Valles, Mars
A fire crackled and woke Ozzy. He pushed into a seated position, squinting his eyes. Gragas was standing over him, his arms crossed.
Ozzy was groggy. He yawned and shook his head to wake up. If he didn’t have his helmet on, he’d slap himself across the cheeks to wake himself more.
He surveyed the area.
A downed Dunrakee battleship was several hundred meters away, ripped to shreds, its metal twisted, and its armor dripped to the iron-covered ground like melting butter off toast. Smoke trailed to the sky, thinning the higher it went.
He blinked his eyes. More crashed and broken Dunrakee ships dotted the landscape, sending smoke and fire traveling into the air.
Whatever he and Gragas did had worked, and it worked well.
Martian Ark Page 19
