by M. R. Forbes
“If you did, I’m sure it was a mistake.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That is the point. I need your head in the right place, Gant. You can’t help protect me if you second guess everything you do.”
“I wouldn’t be so worried if I could at least remember Euler’s number.”
“How many non-Terrans know Euler’s number? Come to think of it, how many Terrans know Euler’s number?”
Gant shrugged. “I’ll drop it. Muscle memory is the last thing to go.” He stretched his arms, loosening some of the hair from the edge of his lightsuit. Then he pulled a blade from his hip. It was freshly made, more of a short sword than a knife. “Keeper made this for me. Rhodrinium. Just wait until some asshole Venerant tries to cook me or something.” He chittered again.
“Delta Squadron, what’s your status?” Abbey asked, opening a wide channel on her comm.
“Ready to go, Queenie,” Bastion said. “Damn, this thing is sweet.”
“The starfighter?”
“Hell, yeah. Plush gel and leather seating. Full heads-up display. Enough thrust to send your brain through the back of your head. I mean, it won’t be as exciting as making the drop, but it’ll be a fun ride.”
“Just remember, we need to disable at least one of Azul’s ships without destroying it, or it’s going to take forever to get everyone back to the Covenant.”
“Roger. We’ll do our best.”
“Okay, how are the Freejects holding up?” Abbey asked.
“I think a few of them have already wet themselves, Queenie,” Pik said with a laugh. “The rest are doing great. At least a dozen can even hit their targets when they shoot.”
“You aren’t inspiring confidence.”
“They’ve come a long way in a short time. No armor, only a little training, and they’re still going through with it. I respect that.”
“So do I,” Abbey said.
How could she not? The two hundred freed slaves who made up the Freejects had been treated like shit for their entire life and were being given their first chance to decide their own fate. They were using it by putting their lives at risk to try to help their brethren.
“Nerd, how’s Dog?” Abbey asked.
“Uh. He’s fine, I guess, Queenie,” Erlan replied. “He hasn’t eaten me yet, so that’s good.”
Abbey smiled. Her success with the Asura Legionnaires had brought her to try to communicate with the dragon the same way. While it wasn’t able to respond to her visualizations, it did seem to understand them, and more importantly follow her commands.
“Sergeants.”
She called out to the Asura soldiers she had placed in charge of each of their groups.
“Yes, Queen?”
The voices returned to her, a dozen in perfect synchronization.
“Bring your Legions to the landing bay.”
“Yes, Queen.”
“Okay, start leading the Freejects up to the landing bay. Rejects, you, too.”
“Roger, Queenie,” Trinity said.
“Keeper, how are we on time?” Abbey asked.
“Five minutes, Queenie,” Keeper replied.
“Perfect. Is the Covenant ready?”
“Aye, Queenie. All battle stations are online. Before you go, will you reconsider your decision to include the Asura in this assault?”
“Not a chance, but thanks for asking.”
“As you command.”
Abbey and Gant reached the nearest teleporter, stepping through it and coming out close to the landing bay. The corridors around it had been reconfigured over the last few hours, enlarging the space between the hangar and the central shaft. Abbey had been amazed by the process, during which hundreds of metallic tendrils had slithered around the area in question, cutting through walls, conduits, pipes, and all of the other infrastructure of the Shardship and rerouting it to clear a path. It was as if they had an army of giant Rudin aboard, working tirelessly to perform the needed surgery.
It wasn’t the only alteration Keeper had made to the ship in the last few hours. A second corridor had been added, with a separate entrance to the landing bay. It led from another part of the shaft, to a series of ladders that had been installed to allow the Asura Legionnaires to travel more easily through the Covenant. Without King to levitate them and without the climbing capabilities of the gray-skinned creatures, it was the only way to get them into position.
It was a lot of effort. Hopefully the pay-off would make it all worthwhile.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t all be killed on the ingress.
She glanced over at Gant again. She was putting a lot of faith in him, despite what he had told her. She had to believe. The fate of the galaxy was hanging on this.
“Three minutes, Queenie,” Keeper said.
Abbey reached the landing bay. The slave ships they had captured were mostly gone, broken down into parts and ferried deeper into the Shardship by those same mechanical tendrils. The Faust sat dark and quiet in the corner. The Carrion and two other slave vessels rested beside it. Delta Squadron was right behind the energy field leading out into the emptiness of space, the three starfighters arranged in a wedge with Bastion at the head.
Pik and Benhil were leading the Freejects into the hangar, with Herschel at the head of the two hundred volunteers. They had all been given standard issue Republic rifles and four magazines, plus a combat knife and matching uniforms - dark red fightsuits that while unaugmented like a combat suit would at least regulate their temperatures and give them basic ballistic protection. Herschel was wearing a matching lightsuit with a tactical helmet, needed to direct his soldiers during the fight.
“Attention,” Pik roared as Abbey approached them.
The Freejects snapped stiff and still, an impressive response that made her smile. She noticed a Lalian at the front of the first column.
“Helk?” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be going planetside?”
He shrugged. “You convinced me to do more, Queenie. I hope I don’t regret it.”
“You won’t,” she replied. She looked at the rest of the soldiers. “You look like free soldiers because you are free soldiers. I’m honored to fight beside all of you.”
“You set us free, Queenie,” Herschel said. “We’re going to help you set the rest of the Unders free. As many as we can. If you can get Rezel to go along with this?” He shook his head. “I can’t even picture it, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“Freejects!” the soldiers shouted.
Abbey heard motion at the other side of the landing bay.
“Keep calm,” she said to the Freejects. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
A murmur went up from the assembled as the first of the Asura Legions moved in through the opposite passage, a cadre of the aliens nearly four hundred strong, a mix of Legionnaires and what Abbey had taken to calling Scouts.
“What in the name of the Dark One are those?” she heard one of the Freejects say.
“Allies,” she replied to all of them. “They’re on our side.”
“Where have you been hiding them?” Herschel asked.
“It’s a big ship,” she replied.
The Legions continued to flow into the hangar, one after another until they were all present, nearly two thousand soldiers strong. The Freejects looked like nothing in comparison.
“One minute, Queenie,” Keeper said.
“Sergeants, come to attention.”
The Asura Legion snapped to attention as one, the sound of it echoing in the hangar.
“Impressive,” Pik said.
“I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve,” Abbey said.
She closed her eyes, visualizing the same scene and pushing it out through the Gift. Then she opened them again.
“Delta Squadron, prepare for launch. Keeper, I want immediate updates on everything your sensors pick up. Nothing gets onto the Covenant. If it does, you’re responsible. Protect the Focus at all costs.”
“Aye, Queenie,” Bastion said.
“Aye, Queenie,” Keeper said.
A few seconds passed in near silence, the Freejects still murmuring softly to one another about the Asura.
“I thought you had another trick?” Pik asked when nothing happened.
Then the floor of the hangar vibrated softly.
Pik looked down. The floor shook again. He looked back at Abbey. Then he smiled.
“No fragging way?”
“Keeper, prep the teleporter,” Abbey said.
“Aye, Queenie.”
The top of the hangar began to move, hundreds of tendrils dropping from the ceiling fifty meters above them, arranging in a pattern that matched the floor of the device deeper in the Covenant, only much larger.
“If the Shard could have done this,” Uriel said, looking up at the tendrils. “How come he didn’t?”
Abbey shrugged. “Maybe he never thought of it.”
“Or maybe he never had a need,” Gant said.
“I hope you’re right. If not, it was nice knowing you.”
“Was it?” Abbey asked.
“Honestly? I’m not sure yet. Hopefully I’ll have a little more time to decide.”
The shaking grew more violent, and echoing clangs rose from the largest opening into the space. The Freejects grew silent at the noise, while the Asura began to chant in a repetitive sound she couldn’t translate.
It continued like that as the minute counted down, the Asura Legion becoming louder until Dog’s head appeared in the hangar. The dragon entered cautiously, short, heavy legs shifting so as not to crush the other Asura as it approached Abbey.
“Herschel, keep them calm,” Abbey said, noticing the Freejects were on the verge of breaking rank. “It won’t hurt them.”
“Freejects, attention,” Herschel shouted. “Trust the Queen.”
They recovered from their fear, forming ranks again. Dog lowered his head, placing it on the ground in front of Abbey.
She reached out, putting her hand on its snout and pushing some of the Gift’s energy into it, reminding him who his life force was coming from. Then she held her hand out to Gant.
‘I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” he said.
“Whatever it takes,” Abbey said.
She lifted him onto Dog’s neck before climbing up behind him. Dog raised his head, lifting them both twenty meters over the floor of the hangar. The Asura Legion grunted in what Abbey took as a cheer.
The black outside of the landing bay shifted as the Covenant came out of FTL. Immediately she could see the debris flowing past the Shardship, and the dozens of ships still intact beyond.
“Damn. We’re late,” she said.
“Uh, Queenie,” Bastion said. “That looks like a hell of a lot more than three companies to me.”
39
“Keeper, what have we got?” Abbey asked, swallowing her sudden nerves. Bastion was right. The force was much larger than she had been expecting.
“Sixty-four ships in orbit around Jamul,” Keeper said. “Enough debris for another twelve warships. Only sixteen of the ships do not bear the seal of the Prophet Azul.”
“It seems that Azul has decided he wants all of the Liliat Empire and is tired of waiting,” Helk said. “That’s a full assault group.”
“At least they’re easy to identify,” Abbey said. “What about on the ground?”
The tendrils above them created a projection, a satellite view of the surface through the Covenant’s optics. The enemy dropship positions were obvious, as was their movement toward a small city and the secondary position in the center of it, which appeared as a series of large structures surrounded by a wall.
“The Apostants live in the center of the city,” Helk said. “In the lap of luxury. The Lessers live outside, working to earn their keep.”
“What about the Unders?”
“They serve both in and out of the central ring,” Helk said. “As this is Rezel’s planet, whatever military you see is also composed of slaves.”
Abbey scanned the image. She found a defensive position a few kilometers ahead of the city limits, near a rocky ledge overlooking the offense. The soldiers were in simple pants and shirts, dirty and stained and torn. They held laser rifles that looked like their power supplies were overloaded and burned the soldiers’ hands every time they took a shot, which was fairly often. A single Apostant in a crisp uniform stood behind them out of enemy sight, their hands moving as they shouted orders.
Rezel’s forces were badly outmatched and outnumbered. It reminded her of when she had joined the Sixteenth and dropped onto Grudin. The mission that had started all of this. Only now she was on the other side.
“What the hell are those?” Pik said, pointing at a group of Azul’s forces approaching the city. They were clad in sharp metal and carrying what looked like crossbows. Each shot from one detonated a piece of the landscape near Rezel’s defenses.
“Skullcrushers,” Helk said. “Skelligs in their battle armor. Very dangerous.”
They were mixed in with a large force of Executioners that was advancing toward the city, their size and strength and numbers a brute force that the defense would be hard pressed to contain.
“Keeper, I want to insert there,” Abbey said, pointing a spot inside the city, in what looked like it might be a market of some kind. “That will put us ahead of the incoming assault and behind Rezel’s front lines. We need to establish whose side we’re on in a hurry.”
“Aye, Queenie. I’m running the calculations.”
“Delta Squadron, you’re clear to launch. Imp, you’re in charge up here.”
“Roger, Queenie,” Bastion said. “Watch your asses down there. I expect zero casualties.”
“Same for you,” Abbey replied. “Good hunting.”
“Queenie, Azul’s forces are redirecting their attack towards the Covenant,” Keeper said. “As are Rezel’s remaining ships.”
“Damn it,” Abbey said. “Fire on Azul’s ships only, be careful not to hit Delta.”
“Aye, Queenie.”
“It’s time to move,” Abbey said as the naniates of her Shardsuit began climbing her face, covering it with a mask that would provide the same capabilities as the rest of the team’s Tactical Command Units. “Keeper?”
“Activating the main teleportation unit,” Keeper said in response.
Abbey closed her eyes. She could sense the sudden resonance of the crystals within the main unit as it began to power on, the blood of the Focus within its channels activating. She reached out with the Gift, spreading it around the entire assembled force, the Freejects and the Asura, the Rejects and Dog. She passed it into and through them, visualizing them all in a haze of naniates, and then those naniates reaching toward the tendrils above.
They lowered from the ceiling at the same time, coming down to meet the Gift. Dog shifted slightly, woofing at the change in the atmosphere. The Freejects looked at one another, and then at her. They had been told what was going to happen, but hearing it and being part of it were two completely different things.
She continued to expand the Gift, passing it through the Shardship and down to the teleportation chamber. Keeper had said even the Shard had never attempted anything so bold, but why would he? There hadn’t been a need. Desperate times and all that.
She felt her Gift connect to the Blood of the Focus inside the teleporter, making the link and joining them. She felt the world begin to resonate around them, in sync with the crystals below. The Asura Legionnaires howled. She wasn’t sure if it was in pleasure or pain. Dog’s wings shifted, the downdraft nearly knocking Uriel over.
The Covenant shook slightly, the enemy attacks beginning to strike her outer hull, likely missiles that would do some damage, but not nearly enough. She was vaguely aware of Bastion’s voice announcing that Delta Squadron was engaging the enemy.
She clenched her eyes closed, tightening her focus. The naniates were merging now, the teleporter doing its work. The l
ight flowed from the tendrils above like a heavy rain, growing thicker by the instant.
“Wow,” Gant said beside her.
She opened her eyes. The process was started, and now even she couldn’t stop it. She looked out at the rest of her army as the white light continued to increase in brightness, becoming nearly blinding.
A face appeared in it. A demonic, evil face.
It was only there for an instant, a split-second, and then the light started to fade. A cold wind pushed at Abbey, and she could hear the sound of battle nearby. She looked ahead, finding the Freejects nearly three kilometers away, disoriented as they fought to recover from the jump. She looked for the Asura, finding them even further away, closer to where she had wanted them to beam. She looked down over the side of Dog’s neck. They were perched on a building near the back of the city, not far from the wall that separated the Apostants from the Lessers.
Much further away than she had wanted.
“Queenie,” Pik said. “We’re here, but we’re in trouble. Requesting backup asap.”
She looked back to the Freejects. They were taking cover behind an outcropping of rock, enemy fire coming from both sides as neither Azul or Rezel’s forces knew who they belonged to.
“Sergeants,” Abbey said, reaching out to the Asura.
“What is your command, my Queen?” they replied.
She visualized the force she had seen in the projection, the Executioners, and Skullcrushers.
“Find them. Kill them.”
The Scouts sprang away, moving quickly in the direction of the enemy, leaving the Legionnaires behind. A moment later the soldiers vanished, phase shifting away.
She put her hands on Dog’s side, feeding him the Gift and commanding him to take to the skies.
The dragon lifted his head and roared before taking two steps and throwing himself from the building.
40
“Delta, stay tight,” Bastion said, shifting the stick on his fighter only slightly and grinning as it responded. Piloting dropships into the shit was exciting as hell, but the craft themselves were unwieldy beasts, and the skill in flying them came from understanding their multitude of limitations and getting the absolute most out of them.
