Terra Prime (The Terran Legacy Book 2)

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Terra Prime (The Terran Legacy Book 2) Page 6

by Rob Dearsley


  “Not just dreams anymore.” Dannage kept his head down.

  “Damn it, Mike. What’s going on?” She grabbed his chin, lifting his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.”

  “You left!”

  “I would have come back,” she cried without even thinking about. It wasn’t just a comeback. It was true. “For you, I would have come back.”

  “That’s why I couldn’t ask.” His eyes met hers, glistening in the overhead lights. “You were happy. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

  She cupped his cheek, feeling the scratch of his stubble. “I was happy with you.”

  He screwed his eyes shut, wincing in pain. “Don’t. Please don’t. Not if you’re going to go again.”

  She leaned forward, touching her forehead to his chin and sighed. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me everything. Please.”

  Dannage’s eyes went distant, his breathing quickening. After a moment, he blinked his eyes clear. “Stars, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  Arland frowned. “What?”

  “The Terrans.” Dannage started to the door, dragging her behind him. “They’re here and they’re pissed.”

  Six

  (Granite IV)

  Terran voices crowded Dannage’s thoughts. He pushed through them. He had to get back to the Folly, get Arland and Luc out of there. At the top of the spiral staircase, Luc passed Dannage his pistol. Arland was the last up the stairs, the low lights catching her hard-shell.

  He looked over at where the big SDF trooper dragged a barely conscious Donna. His mind flashed back to when he’d stopped her. He’d felt her, all white-hot, blinding rage. What the hells had the Terrans done to him?

  The voices got louder, merging with the crash of thunder as the Terran vanguard rushed toward the Granite jump exit. They had to get off-world sharpish.

  Two other SDF officers met them in the rain-soaked square, a slight young woman and a rangy man with a sniper rifle slung across his back. They must have formed the remainder of Arland’s team. The sniper dragged a cuffed and battered looking Craven stumbling behind him. Even cuffed, the man’s beady-eyed intensity was unnerving.

  “I told you, command wants him alive,” Arland said.

  “He is alive. Just tripped, is all,” the sniper replied, cheerily.

  “Not to break this up,” Dannage said, brushing past the SDF officers and their human cargo. “But we need to get gone.”

  Arland hurried along behind Dannage. “How long do we have?”

  Overhead lightning rent the sky asunder and thunder thoomed loud enough to rattle the windows. The storm was right overhead now. How ironic.

  Dannage tried to focus on the crescendoing charge of the Terrans, but couldn’t pick out anything beyond the righteous anger that threatened to sweep him up and wash him away. The Terrans would protect their own.

  “Dannage, Captain?” Arland’s face was inches from his own. Her honey coloured eyes filled with concern. Strands of hair had come loose from her braid and fallen across her face. Without thinking he reached out and pushed it behind her ear.

  “It’s the Terrans, they’re so loud, so angry. We have to run.”

  Arland searched his face for a moment. “We’ve got a ship, but it’s on the far side of the city.”

  “I don’t think we’ve got that long. The Folly’s docked just the other side of the market.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.” He was sure. He could feel the voices crashing through his mind, like waves against the shore, washing away his thoughts, his very self. They could all die here, dashed apart by the crashing attack of the Terrans.

  He fought back to himself, looking down at Arland, her dark blond hair and sweetheart face. Before she could react, he pulled her into a fierce hug, burying his face into her soggy hair and breathing the scent of apples.

  “Captain.” She pushed him off. “Let’s go.”

  They ran through the torrential downpour toward the Spaceport.

  The Spaceport interior was relatively empty. Just a few dockworkers and the crew of a planet-hopper prepping for launch. When people found out the Terrans were coming this place would fill up fast.

  Dannage led the SDF team up the ramp and into the Folly’s hold. It felt odd not being able to kick off into freefall, but for the sake of the others he left the gravity on.

  “Luc,” Dannage ordered.

  “Gettin’ gone,” Luc said as climbed the ladder to the bridge.

  “What shall we do with these two?” the big SDF guy – Rutter asked.

  Dannage glanced from Craven and the barely conscious Donna to the ranks of cabin doors. “Lock them in one of the cabins. Arland, yours or the Doc’s old rooms are free.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  “Sir,” Arland said, reaching for him.

  Dannage ached to reach out for her, to hold her again, and more. Stars, he missed her more than anything. He couldn’t give into it though. He wouldn’t let himself get hurt again when she left. It would undo him.

  Or maybe it already had.

  All the others were occupied, either securing Craven and Donna in one of the cabins or up on the bridge with Luc. He and Arland were alone in the hold.

  When she spoke, her voice was small, tentative even, a far cry from the military commander “Michael, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t blame you. They gave you your old life back.” And if he said it enough, he might just believe it himself.

  “Still…” She trailed off and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  He put his hand over hers, pulling it down between them and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “My feelings for you haven’t changed.” And they probably never would. He loved her, he probably always had. But she’d left him, and he couldn’t forget that.

  “I know.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. She pulled him into a hug. He returned the embrace clinging onto her like the last light at the end of time. And for a moment the Terran voices, the whole universe fell away. It was just him, Arland and the scent of apples.

  When she pulled back her eyes were clear. “We should get to the bridge.”

  Dannage couldn’t help smiling. That was the Arland he remembered. He flicked the gravity off and kicked off toward the bridge.

  The Folly’s engines roared as she rose into the storm. Dannage gripped the back of the pilot’s chair, feeling the deck rock beneath his feet. The HUD flickered as lighting strobed over the hull.

  Engage target.

  Dannage looked down at the planet from orbit. Or rather Terran ships did. Three of them, their hulking spaceframes bristling with weapons, primed and ready.

  Targeting scanners pinged off a pair of SDF scout cruisers. Minimal threat.

  On the Folly, lighting flashed, blindingly close, but the cloud was thinning. They were almost through the storm.

  Finally, they broke through the thunderhead, the sun beaming down on them. At the back of the bridge, Arland and her tech were on the Folly’s coms to someone, Dannage was about to ask who.

  His awareness fell into orbit over Granite IV’s main continent. Target location acquired. Power surged into the ships’ main weapon systems. They were gunships, designed to kill whole continents with a single volley.

  The ships paused. Their attention turning to Dannage.

  Target relocated. Bring them to us.

  Oh crap.

  Dannage concentrated, focusing on the ships. “No. You can’t kill him.”

  Bring them to us!

  The Terran gunships filled Dannage’s mind. Please don’t, he begged. Just let us go. The ships keyed in on Craven’s lab, power surging into their plasma cannons. At least they didn’t have any of those tower-block sized missiles under their stubby wings.

  Still, the plasma cannons would devastate the city. He had to stop them, there had to be a way.

  Energy surged into the plasma cannon, building to a heady climax.

  The floor
of the Folly’s bridge felt cool beneath Dannage’s cheek. His breathing ragged, his throat raw like he’d been screaming. Arland looked down at him, concern etched into the lines around her eyes.

  “Sir?”

  He shook his head, still gasping for breath. “They’re going to fire on the city. We have to stop them.”

  “Hells with that, we have to get clear,” Luc said from the controls.

  Arland helped him up and he leaned over the back of the pilot’s chair. They were clear of the atmosphere and heading for high orbit. The two gun-ships hung above them. They looked so much bigger from this angle.

  Power continued to build through the Terran plasma cannon, although there was no visual sign it was about to unleash death on the unsuspecting planet below them.

  “What do they want?” Arland asked, bringing Dannage back to himself.

  “Craven. They want payback for everything he’s been doing to the Turned.”

  “Well, they can’t have him,” Rutter said from the back of the bridge, his hand straying toward his sidearm.

  “If it’s him or us,” Dannage said.

  “You can’t seriously be considering selling out another human to those ships?” Rutter’s hand rested on his pistol in an obvious threat.

  “He was about to cut my head open! I don’t owe that ass-hat anything.”

  Warnings chirped from the Folly’s consoles, as Terran targeting scanners pinged them. Things just got better and better.

  “Luc, go evasive and run for the slipway,” Dannage said. “Look, Mr SDF. Either we give them what they want or they kill us. Then probably glass half the planet for kicks.”

  “Captain.” Arland put a placating hand on his shoulder. “Arguing over this isn’t going to do us any good. Rutter, check on Craven and Donna.”

  The big officer scowled and marched from the bridge.

  “We can’t stop them.” Dannage dropped into one of the chairs, spent. He was so tired of fighting. Of the voices, the anger, the fear. He looked up at Arland, her face alight with frustration, vibrant, alive. Damn-it.

  “Cap’n,” Luc called.

  They turned as a slipway opened, and opened further, until it was large enough to fill Dannage’s view. Swirling blue reflecting off the heavy armour of the Terran hulls. The Slipway was bigger than any he’d seen before. Except back at Pyrite…

  Stars. It couldn’t be. Could it?

  A moment a later a massive ship rippled through the Slipway. It looked like three carriers mounted around a nearly one-and-a-half-kilometre long gun. The SDF had used the super-carrier or one like it at Pyrite, but that one had been destroyed.

  The Terran ships detected it and panic flooded their minds. Memories of pain, death. Fire burning through them. Maximum threat profile. Disengage, run.

  The naked fear left Dannage’s heart hammering in his throat. Bile rising. How could they hunt the Terrans down like dogs, just kill them like that?

  “Captain. Michael.” Arland’s face was inches from his own. “It’s okay. We’re safe now.”

  With a climactic rush of power, the Terran ships jumped away.

  The sudden quiet left Dannage light headed and dizzy. He barely heard the com system crack to life.

  “This is Captain Rossini on the SDF Feynman, to Hope’s Folly. We request you dock in bay five-alpha to offload SDF assets.”

  Dannage slumped in his chair. Getting the military involved only ever complicated things.

  Seven

  (Liberty Station, Nowhere)

  Captain Lloyd slouched lower in the chair, his eyes closed, listening to the hush of the air systems and the chanting of the protestors muted by the closed security doors. Shaking himself awake, he picked up his book and went back to reading.

  Through the doors behind him, Jerome and the other senators were still arguing. The SDF was pushing for sanctions after the attack on the Lorca. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone that Slater was the only one who’d wound up in any danger. Damn muppets.

  The new SDF negotiator was supposed to be here any day now. Lloyd had heard rumours the SDF were sending a war hero. Not many of them around these days. Not after the Terran war. They were just survivors.

  Slater appeared around the bend and dropped down next to him, her hair still twisted into a knot at the back of her neck – a pilot’s style. “They still arguing?”

  “Yeah,” Lloyd replied. “I’m not even sure what they’re debating anymore.”

  Slater grinned. “What to have for dinner?”

  “Na, that was half an hour ago,” Lloyd replied, sitting up straighter.

  Slater chuckled. “Anyway, SDF ship jumped in, the Montgomery.”

  The Montgomery? Lloyd recognised the name, but couldn’t place it. It wasn’t a ship that had come through Nowhere before, he knew that much.

  “Come on.” Slater pulled him up out of his chair. “I want to see it arrive. It’s one of the new carriers.”

  While the chair had been comfortable, Lloyd was intrigued to see what changes had been made on the new line of ships. Rumour was, they’d been working with Terran tech. Maybe the carrier would have some fancy new weapons or drive systems.

  The pair hurried down the empty, utilitarian hallways of Liberty station, Slater in the lead. Eventually, they reached the rec. room with this panoramic view of the gateway.

  The crackle of power over the skeletal gateway arms dissipated as Lloyd and Slater crossed the darkened room. Within the palm of the mechanical hand sat an SDF carrier.

  Slater’s face fell, slightly. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  Thick trapezoidal hulls sat either side of the carrier’s heavy railguns. Light spilt from the ranks of fighter bays and flight decks dotted down the ship’s edge. Outwardly, it looked exactly like the old models. A pair of cruisers flanked their larger counterpart. Slater was right. He’d been hoping for some outward design changes, maybe a new weapon-mount or something.

  Overhead speakers pinged to life. “Captain Lloyd and Commander Slater to docking bay six-beta.”

  Slater clapped him on the arm “Sounds like they’re singing our song.”

  “Then we need a new song,” Lloyd grumbled but followed Slater out of the rec. room toward the docking bays. A final look over his shoulder showed a troop transport breaking away from the Montgomery. It looked like the SDF’s new negotiator was here.

  But then why did they want a pair of fighter jocks like him and Slater there to meet this new negotiator. Not that he’d complain at the chance to meet Admiral Niels, assuming it was really him.

  A group of orange-robed senators waited in the docking bay. The overhead lights reflected off the chromed hard-shell of their personal guards. There really was no reason for Lloyd and Slater to be there.

  The SDF shuttle touched down amidst a roar of engines and a wash of ozone scented exhaust, spinning to point its rear-facing hatch toward the knot of Nowhere senators. No walking around the shuttle like a normal person for the Admiral. Landing regs be damned.

  Admiral Niels – The Admiral Niels, who’d led the united fleet against the Terrans – marched down the ramp. His grey hair was military short, his back ramrod straight, his white and blue dress uniform starched ridged. A young woman, her own dress uniform similarly starched, followed behind a flex open in her hand. SDF marines took station either side of them, their chitinous black armour glinting in the lights.

  One of the senators stepped forward. “Thank you for coming, Admiral.”

  “I just hope we can come to some agreement,” Niels responded.

  “Of course. I’d like to introduce you to the pilots present during the attack. Captain Lloyd, and Commander Slater.”

  So that was why they were here. They might not care that Slater would have died out there if not for that cargo ship and her crazy captain, but they were damn sure going to capitalise on it.

  Niels looked over at them, his eyes scrutinising, assessing. “Captain, Commander, good to meet you.”

  “
Likewise,” Slater replied with a brief salute.

  Lloyd frowned, she never saluted him. “Thank you, sir. All the better if we can get a negotiated deal and put an end to the blockade.”

  Niels’s face softened. “Nothing I’d like more.”

  With that Niels was ushered out surrounded by a gaggle of Nowhere senators and followed by his aid and guard.

  Lloyd and Slater fell in behind the others. Lloyd leaned over to whisper to Slater, “You ever get fed up being political chess pieces?”

  “I always preferred rush myself.”

  Lloyd stifled a chuckle. “Right pair of twos we are there.”

  ◊◊

  Arland stood on the Feynman’s nearly empty flight deck, the shimmering blue of the highway rolled beyond the static field. Jax had once told her the blue was more than likely some sort of extreme Doppler Shift. To Arland, the constant swirling was relaxing. Behind her the folly sat next to a pair of troop transports.

  She’d handed Craven and Donna into the care of the Feynman’s crew. Good riddance as far as she was concerned. That horrible man deserved everything that was coming to him. Surely the Terrans’ violent return was reminder enough of the dangers of wet-ware, not to mention the morality. How could people stand in the face of such depravity and think to make worse? People like Craven, they were the true monsters.

  The world was full of monsters these days. Or maybe it was her seeking them out? Either way, she seemed to find herself standing against monsters far too often. That thin line between humanity and the chaos of an uncaring universe.

  She missed the simpler times, back on the Folly, when all she had to worry about was the Captain’s new hair-brained scheme. Stars, she’d missed Dannage. More than she’d known. Seeing him again brought it all back, and it was like she’d never left. Except she had.

  “Arland?” Dannage’s voice came from behind her.

  “Did you speak to Captain Rossini?”

  Dannage shrugged and perched on a mobile fuelling pump. “They’re jumping to the SDF base at Onyx, we can disembark there. What’s next for you?”

  She could hear the unasked question behind his words. Did she mean what she said about coming back? She didn’t know. Being here, now, with him, felt right. But still, she had a job, what she was doing with the SDF was important. More than that is was necessary. The SDF gave her life meaning, but did any of that matter without Dannage?

 

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