"Second Platoon!" Bastian said, contacting the platoon's lieutenant telepathically. "Send me two squads. Southern gate."
"I don't have men to spare!" the lieutenant replied. The kid was twenty-one, fresh out of officer school. His hand was a bloody, mangled mess. He only had two fingers left. But he still managed to hold his Gideon up, to fire on the enemy. His troops stood around him, guarding the eastern wall, as the spiders kept coming.
"Send one squad then," Bastian said. "You still have a damn wall. My gate here is breached."
The young officer nodded, gave the order, and one squad of soldiers abandoned the eastern wall. They ran across the base, heading toward Bastian at the southern gate.
For a few moments, Bastian and Alice stood alone. Behind them spread human corpses. Before them the rahs kept racing through the breached gateway. Just two soldiers—facing the horde.
A claw thrust into Bastian's shoulder.
He roared, fell to one knee, and pushed himself up. He kept firing.
A spider vaulted toward Alice, teeth gleaming. Its jaws snapped shut around her Gideon rifle. Alice refused to release the weapon. She managed to keep firing. Bullets filled the spider's mouth. The alien screamed and stumbled back. Drool covered the gun, and a tooth had ripped Alice's arm. Her blood dripped. But she kept firing until the rah fell.
They cut down the beasts.
They did not let them in.
"Daddy, please . . ."
Rowan's voice came through his MindLink as he fought.
"Daddy, I'm scared."
And Bastian stayed standing. Kept fighting. For her. Even as he bled, he held back the enemy.
It only took the eastern squad a few minutes to arrive. Those minutes felt like an eternity.
"For freedom!"
They were here. The eastern squad. Ten men charged toward the gateway, shouting, firing their guns. Bullets streaked through the dark. Rahs screamed and fell back. The red blood of men and the black blood of spiders drenched the snow.
All across Fort Liberty, the Badgers Company fought that night. Two hundred soldiers. Falling. Dying. Cut down to a hundred.
But they held the gate.
They held the walls.
They defended their freedom.
The gate had fallen, so they formed a new blockade with their bodies. The walls were breached, so they formed a new wall with their bullets and their courage.
And they held the enemy back.
All that night, they fought. The Badgers Company of the Freedom Brigade. For long hours in the dark, they stood and bled and punished the enemy. They fought alone.
The moonlight revealed the devastation. Scores of soldiers—dead. Scores of rahs—twitching, stinking in the killing field.
And the enemy kept coming, and the battle raged on.
Until finally hope came to Fort Liberty.
Bison Company came first. Two hundred farm boys and farm girls, roaring back from their Christmas vacation. Then came Wolf Company, another two hundred soldiers, a little hungover, stuffed full of turkey and wine, but ready for war. More and more kept coming. Company after company. Battalion after battalion.
The marines of the Freedom Brigade.
They had gone home for Christmas. They had heard the news. They had fought their way here. Some marines had remained home with their families, vowing to protect them. Others had lost their families. Not everyone arrived today. Some had died along the way. Some fled.
But many came.
Thousands came.
At the hour of need, they all knew where to go. To their home. To Fort Liberty.
And Badgers Company, two hundred souls, had held down the fort. They welcomed their fellow soldiers with cries of joy.
With thousands of soldiers, the tide turned. Christmas was over. The moonlight spilled over blood, corpses, despair. But with its light shone hope.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Starship Freedom
79 million kms from Earth
03:17 December 26, 2199
King stood on the bridge, staring at data coming in from Earth.
"Look at that," he said. "The Desert Thorns managed to destroy a clawship. Not bad for the new kids."
Jordan stood beside him, dour. "We'll have to join forces with Red Dawn too. If there's any hope for victory, humanity must unite."
King spun toward his XO, glowering. "Join the Red Dawn? I don't think so. They're no better than the goddamn aliens."
His throat blazed with pain. The pain always reminded him of Red Dawn's evil.
But maybe Jordan was right.
For the first time, humanity's three great powers—the Alliance, Red Dawn, and Desert Thorns—would have to unite.
King was proud to fight for the Free Alliance. To him, it was the only force of civilization in a chaotic world. The Alliance was created in 2133 to combat the rising threat of equalism. Alliance nations were diverse. They came from around the world. Most shared Judeo-Christian values. Others—like Japan, South Korea, and India—did not share that cultural heritage, but they believed in other ideals that united the Alliance. Democracy. Capitalism. And most importantly—freedom. Yes, that was the central tenet of the Alliance. Freedom.
The Red Dawn hated freedom. They fought for equalism, the nefarious ideology that had nearly crushed the world. It was often said that equalism was the bastard child of communism and fascism. Its proponents claimed the ideology brought true equality and justice to mankind. If you asked King—bullshit. To him, equalism meant tyranny, the individual crushed under the heel of the government. Russia, China, and North Korea formed the central axis of the Red Dawn, but many other nations had joined them. With sweet words and empty promises, equalism had spread across South America, Eastern Europe, and large swaths of Asia. At one point, they had even seized Mars—at least until the Freedom knocked them back down to Earth.
The Desert Thorns were a new pact, only formed after the war, uniting most Middle Eastern and North African nations. During World War III, some of these nations had fought for the Alliance, others for the Red Dawn. When the war ended, when everyone was licking their wounds, they decided to eschew both the Alliance and Red Dawn. They formed their own union, creating humanity's third great power. Queen Laila, hailing from glittering Dubai with its floating skyscrapers, led the Desert Thorns. Laila had been a baby during the third world war. She would have to fight her first war now.
Was it possible? To unite the three superpowers?
King didn't know. He had no grudge against the Desert Thorns. But the Red Dawn was another matter. Even an alien invasion couldn't make him forget Katyusha's sins.
The woman murdered my father, he thought. I'll be damned if I join her.
"Commander, may I see you for a moment?" Mimori said, pulling him from his thoughts.
King approached the android. "Speak your mind, Mimori."
"I've been analyzing the data from the battle on Earth," she said. "Specifically the electric shields around the rah clawships."
King nodded. "The ones that appear like electric webs."
"Yes, sir. I've discovered a vulnerability to exploit. The clawships generate a complex, grid-shaped electromagnetic pattern. With the right photon burst, we can disrupt their shields. Maybe disable them entirely."
King inhaled sharply. "That would be a game changer."
"Indeed, sir," Mimori said. "Without their electromagnetic shields, they'd still have the protection of their armored hull. But at least one line of defense will be gone. However, we can only use this trick once. As soon as the rahs discover the weakness, they can easily patch the security hole."
King nodded, his excitement souring a bit. "All right. Well, that's better than nothing."
Jordan, who had heard the conversation, approached them. "Jim, we should transmit this information to the fleet."
"I would caution against that, sir," Mimori said. "From this distance, the rahs will intercept our transmission. It's true that our transmissions are encr
ypted. But if the rahs have seized any human starships or military bases, they can find the encryption keys. And then they can patch their security hole before we can exploit it."
King considered for a moment. "All right. We'll sit on this information for now. Mimori, I want you to program a shield disruptor into our ATLAS photon broadcasters. Can you do that?"
"Already done, sir." She smiled. "I'm very good at my job."
"And humble," King said.
Her smile widened. "Humility is a human frailty. As a superior life form, I—" She paled. She clutched his arm. "Sir! ATLAS reports a portal opening ahead!"
* * * * *
King wheeled toward a monitor. A plan position indicator filled the screen. The Freedom appeared in the center of the display—a luminous green icon with two prongs. Concentric circles spread around the icon like ripples in a pond, marking distance. Each circle was ten thousand kilometers farther from the ship. The ATLAS sensors kept sweeping space around the Freedom, constantly updating the PPI. A few green dots appeared on the diagram, denoting small asteroids and comets. Debris was a constant threat in space. At this speed, even a grain of sand could cause serious damage to a ship's hull.
ATLAS's interface was crude, even ugly to some. Just basic green and red graphics on black backgrounds. None of those fancy MindPlay hallucinations, which were so lifelike King wanted to shoot them. ATLAS was old and clunky, a little like him. King loved it.
"I don't see it," King said, staring at the display.
Mimori pointed. "There, sir."
He noticed it then. A part of the ATLAS display was … rippling. A green circle bent. Just in one section. Then it straightened again.
"That's a disturbance in the spacetime fabric," Mimori said. "An enemy portal."
Three red dots suddenly appeared on the screen. Right where the display had rippled.
"Three clawships," King said. "Thirty thousand klicks away. They're heading right at us."
Thirty thousand kilometers was more than twice the diameter of Earth. In space, that was nothing. The enemy was right on them.
We might need to use those shield disruptors earlier than expected, King thought.
"Sir, they're broadcasting their identification signals using standard Alliance protocols." Mimori frowned, tilted her head. "The enemy clawships are identifying themselves as the Venom, the Wandering Widow, and the Bloodlust."
King glowered at the monitor, watching the three red dots fly closer. "Psychological warfare. They learned our language, and they translated the names of their ships to intimidate us. I won't play that game. What stats can you give me on those ships?"
"Still parsing ATLAS data, sir," Mimori said. "Preliminary data confirms all three are warclaw-class vessels. If they were human starships, we would classify them as dreadnoughts. They're roughly two kilometers long, half a kilometer wide. No report yet on their armaments or complement. Wait. Updating. One ship, the Bloodlust, is larger than the other two. Almost three kilometers long."
"All three are bigger than us," King said. "And we can assume that, unlike the Freedom, they're armed. Can ATLAS get us a visual of the ships?"
Mimori closed her eyes, which she sometimes did when scanning the streams of data in the Freedom's central computers. "ATLAS sensors are still parsing the data, and … yes, we're picking up a visual of the clawships now. Should I send it to your MindWeb?"
"No. Display on main monitor."
Everyone stared at the large screen, which dominated the prow-side bulkhead. A live video appeared, feeding from telescopes on the prow.
A portal floated in space, revealing a strange, shadowy realm beyond, a place of smeared lights and dark shapes that glided like whales in the murk. Three clawships had emerged from the portal. They were charging toward the Freedom. Behind them, the portal faded away like a bad dream.
The clawships were coming in fast. They looked hungry for war.
Dammit.
"Mimori, are there any Alliance ships nearby who can assist?" King said. "Hell, I'll even take help from Red Dawn ships." That hurt to admit, but that's how far things had come.
"No, sir," Mimori said. "Everyone else is fighting the battle in Earth's orbit. We're here alone."
The bridge crew was silent for a moment.
The three clawships slowed down and hovered ahead. Three colossal dreadnoughts, covered with spines and claws. Some of those claws were as long as the Freedom. They could slice them open like a katana.
The two smaller clawships, the Venom and the Wandering Widow, looked identical. They were both black with swirling red centers. But the gargantuan Bloodlust had a gray hull, and her claws were blood red. At three kilometers long, she was twice the Freedom's length.
The Freedom and the three clawships floated in space, sizing one another up.
Alone, King thought. We're alone out here. Unarmed.
He took a deep breath.
"Mimori, open a channel. Hail the clawships. We're going to have a little chat. I want to know more about these creatures."
"Yes, sir." The android concentrated for a moment. "Sending out a communication request, sir. Their ships are attempting to respond. Their technology is …" She frowned. "Definitely alien. I'm not sure we can establish a video call. Wait." She gasped. "One of the clawships is accepting our call, sir! Their technology can understand ours. It's the Bloodlust. The big one with the red claws."
"Put it on the front monitor," King said.
"Yes, sir. Beginning call in three, two, one …"
A video feed appeared on the central monitor, coming from inside the clawship.
Across the Freedom's bridge, crew members gasped or cursed. A tactical officer swayed, nearly fainted.
King stared, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides.
For the first time, he got a good look at a rah.
Ugly sons of bitches, he thought.
* * * * *
The clawship's bridge—if that was the right word for it—was a cavernous place. The walls were craggy, irregular, carelessly cobbled together with chunks of raw iron. Cobwebs filled the cavern, trapping several victims. Most of those victims seemed alien—strange creatures, some scaled, others insectile, and some that seemed amphibian. One of the victims in the cobwebs was human. She still wore an Alliance uniform. Her belly had been slashed open, the innards removed, and eggs placed inside.
King only spared these victims a glance. He could not help them now. He focused his attention on the creature who hung in the center of the web.
A rah.
The spider was enormous. As large as a rhino. A spiny gray exoskeleton enclosed its abdomen. Each spine impaled a severed head. Eight blood-red legs thrust out, tipped with claws like swords. Eight red eyes stared at King. Slowly a grin spread across the creature's face, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Not a spider's mouth. A shark's mouth. A mouth made for ripping flesh.
King's crew members were trembling. A few cowered. But King stood his ground, staring at the beast on the monitor. He stared into its hideous red eyes.
"I am James King, commander of the starship Freedom," he said. "You've encroached on human territory. Turn back now or—"
"Hello, Commander King," the creature hissed. "Ah, so you are the famous war hero, yes? I've heard about you. You're so much smaller and older than I imagined."
"You have me at a disadvantage," King said, not taking the bait.
The creature bristled, spikes rattling. "You don't know me? Truly you humans are ignorant little parasites. I am Hel'rah, warlord of the clawship Bloodlust, prince of the Great Web. You speak to the son of Skel'rah, the Midnight Huntress, High Mistress of the fleet. I am the storm that rises from the void between stars. I am the devourer of lost souls. I am your doom."
"Nice to meet you," King said. "Can I call you Helly for short?"
The creature laughed. Drool dripped between his fangs. "Normally I would have destroyed you by now. But I'm so curious." He squinted his eight eyes. "What manner of ship is this
Freedom? You have thick shields like a warship. Yet you're unarmed. You're supposedly a great warrior. Yet you're clearly a miserable maggot. My mother claims you are … What did she call it? A museum? Some ape foolishness." The rah snorted. "What is this trickery?"
"Get used to living in ignorance, Helly," King said. "I give you one last chance. Turn back now. Or get your answers the hard way."
The rah laughed—a terrible sound. A sound like crunching bones. "So you choose death. Very well. I will gladly destroy your miserable ship, Commander King. And once I'm done, I will pay Earth a little visit. I will devour your granddaughter, King. I will eat little Rowan. Yes, we know all about your family. I will make it hurt. I will—"
"Get this crap off my screen!" King said.
Mimori nodded. The video feed vanished. Instead, the monitor now showed a view of space. The three clawships hovered ahead.
The clawships began to accelerate.
They came storming toward the Freedom, raring for war.
"Mimori, how long until they reach us?" King said. The monitors were zoomed in. The clawships were farther than they appeared.
"At their current speed," the android replied, "they'll reach us in seventy-three seconds."
"Change course!" King barked. "Get us out of here, Mimori. We must choose our battles. We can't fight our dear friend Hel'rah. Not yet. Not without weapons."
"Sir." Mimori winced. "The three clawships are accelerating at incredible speed. I don't think we can outrun them. Not all the way to the armory."
"Then give us whatever time you can," King said. "If Hel'rah wants a fight, delay it as much as possible."
Mimori nodded. "Yes, sir. Yawing the ship, sir. The enemy is adjusting course to intercept us."
"Give our engines a boost of afterburner," King said. "Even while we're yawing."
"Yes, sir."
The deck thrummed as the Freedom's engines roared. Everyone swayed on their feet. The ship blasted forward while yawing, carving a curved path through space. And the clawships followed.
Starship Freedom Page 23