Shadows of the Son

by E L Strife

  Panton couldn’t move. Agony was everywhere. He consciously slowing his breaths, begging to ease the overstimulation. Hot mist tasting of iron released with each exhale. He closed his eyes. The ground beneath was hard and uncomfortable but warm. It made him want to sleep. But sleep without medicine equaled death, he was certain. “Ramura?”

  Footsteps rounded his head, and she knelt beside him. “Where are they?”

  He hated the vulnerability, the weakness, the embarrassment of such a condition. But he hated sitting in bed while his friends died far more.

  Panton tapped a rectangular case on his belt. “Don’t—miss.”

  Ramura snatched the case and opened it up. Drawing out a syringe, she lifted the side of Panton’s shirt.

  He coughed. Blood splattered over the knees of Ramura’s pants. The metallic taste was nauseating. Panton didn’t want to die and leave Josie with no one to come home to. He could feel his lung filling with heat. His vision blurred and dimmed. “Hurry, please,” he spluttered.

  Johna crouched next to Ramura, watching intently. The yellow Primvera, face bruised, limped up beside Tiisan, bracing an arm against him.

  Taking a deep breath, Ramura set a warm hand against Panton’s ribs near the wound. Her touch was steady, her eyes focused. Still, her lips quivered as she directed the needle in through the center.

  Three inches of cold, hard, stomach-turning insertion.

  Panton grunted and gasped, straining to keep his lungs calm through the agony. Every movement made the sensation worse.

  Fluid filled the inside like a hot knot stiffening his tissues—a continual side stitch.

  Johna picked up Panton’s empty case. “Isn’t this stuff illegal?”

  “Death plays by no rules, just like Suanoa and Linoans.” Ramura withdrew the needle slowly, the way Panton had requested. He’d had her practice the day before knowing they were on Hyras’s last-minute team. She drew the edge of his torn shirt back down.

  Wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, Panton sighed with relief. He might get to see Josie again after all. “Five minutes until I become a worthless lump and sleep like the dead for an hour.”

  “What’s the plan?” Johna asked, scanning the streets, his e-rifle across his back, SIs in hand.

  Panton looked up to the Primvera. “Name?”

  “Quaros.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Earth.”

  “The ship?”

  “Homebuilt.

  “Bullshit,” Johna chuckled incredulously. “That—homebuilt?”

  The Primvera shrugged beneath a scrapped-together leather outfit. “I have an affinity.”

  Ramura stood. “Most Prims do. For flying and building tech, I mean.”

  “Think you can still fly, Quaros?” Panton asked as Tiisan and Johna helped him to his feet and slid under his arms.

  The Prim nodded. “Ankle is sore, but I don’t think it’s broken. But I will not work for your Command. Ken Linas works there. He’s the profligate son-of-a-bitch who sells Kronos information. Minx has had him on radar for the last two weeks. Ebsun Jorjan too.”

  Panton waved a hand between them, dismissing the conversation. It was too much for him to process in his high. “They’re both dead. Sergeant Bennett killed Linas.”

  “Oh, the Prospector?” Quaros asked, surprise lifting his face.

  Panton pushed himself to a sitting position. “How do you know?”

  “Krett. Haven’t heard from him in a week though. We were starting to worry.”

  “We?” Johna asked.

  Panton’s eyelids grew heavy. “Let’s discuss Krett after we get my fat ass somewhere safe. I’m losing wind.”

  Quaros casually inspected Johna then looked back to Panton. “What is it you want me to fly?”

  Waving for assistance, Panton had Tiisan and Johna turn him around. Ramura took charge of supporting Quaros. Together the group hobbled to the nearest view of the parking lot, bodies strewn throughout the haze like beached seals after a red tide.

  Panton pointed a shaky finger at the unguarded Linoan fighter. “We gotta steal that.”

  —Fire & Ice—

  Chapter 51

  “THERE’S TOO MUCH DEBRIS! The cluster bombs are going off—too close proximity to us—cause of the dam—ebris! We’re getting tagged by our o—ballistics!” The pilot’s feed fizzled out.

  Bennett stood again at the ring of computer stations in Agutra’s conference room, the holographic display lit up in red in the center. Beside him, Miskaht rubbed her eyes with a bleeding hand. Her hair was a tangle of wiry threads. Teek had a concussion and rested in a quiet corner of the large room, refusing to leave. Glato had burns over most of his back and sat, shirt off, watching Miskaht from a nearby desk.

  Azure shot Bennett a glare over the three-dimensional map of space. Particles of blood-orange light showed the perfect line of Agutra, Kyra Three, and Kyra Two with an army of orange swarming around Agutra and Earth. Pockets of light swelled like inflating bubbles and popped throughout the scene, taking with them Linoan ships and disintegrating the remains of others.

  Sometimes the bubbles took M45s with them.

  Hope’s three bombers did their best. But they were hulking and slow. Linoans darted out of the firing path the way schools of fish avoided predators.

  “We’re losing too many,” Azure growled.

  Bennett couldn’t take the man’s patronizing attitude any longer. “One is too many!” he fired back. But Azure was right, and Bennett’s response had little effect on the situation.

  Azure’s voice cracked. His face twisted with pained anger. “They are dying out there, Bennett!”

  “You have any better ideas?” Bennett demanded. “I’m all ears! But no one wants to take any responsibility for this shit! They push it all off on me because of some thing I’m going to be!”

  The fear in Amianna’s magenta eyes made Bennett glad Teek wasn’t listening in. He didn’t want the sensitive teen seeing their celestial leader fall apart. Even if the title made Bennett want to break everything his hands touched.

  Azure didn’t flinch.

  Bennett opened a channel to the crews. “Everyone, retreat.”

  The ships in the light-model shifted away from the concentration of Linoans only to be chased out into space.

  Bennett ground his fingers into his pounding temples. I hate being here. I don’t want to do this. Feeling the heat of rage in his chest, Bennett stormed off, around the curved desks to a private corner.

  His right hand knotted up, and he slammed it into a wall. The panel caved in until it broke free from its rivets. He crouched down and buried his head in his hands, silently crying. Why, did you leave me alone for this, Father? Why, when I need your guidance the most? You’re not giving me much reason for faith. “I don’t know what I’m doing—”

  He’d pushed those remaining from Romeo squads and ArcStrings into the shadows. He couldn’t risk them. They’d already lost most of their armada.

  Sitting back on his butt, Bennett stared up at the broken wall.

  A soft, red light caught his eye. Leaping up, Bennett ripped the panel out of its pocket. Beside him, the wall rotated like window blinds, exposing sixty individual closets. What the—

  “Bennett, Azure, this is Ata— Do you c—py?” a feminine voice crackled through the radio in the distance.

  Bennett dropped the panel, his legs taking control of his body and running him back to Miskaht’s side. Furiously wiping the saltwater from his face, he looked over at Azure. “Is that her, Atana?”

  “I think so, but I can’t track the signal.” Azure played with the settings on his screen.

  “If you can he—me, there are—orkers on Kyras! I’ve contacted—yra Three. Imperi—Marlit isn’t too ha—y here either. Oom—s is going to be pissed.” The voice laughed. “But if yo—ee ships evactuati—they are innocent—on’t shoot. I repea—Don’t shoot. They’re just esca—ods. I repeat, d—t shoot—ape p�
��s.”

  “Pods? Did she mean pods?” Amianna asked, scanning between him and Azure.

  In the floating schematic, tiny seeds of light dripped from Kyra Three’s belly.

  Azure selected and zoomed in on one. Three small heat signatures registered. He checked others. “Children.”

  “How did you get them to fight off their Linoan guards?” Bennett asked.

  “Ongkrat.” There was a long pause. Even in tense situations, Atana was calm. Bennett envied her skill. “Under La’kian guardiansh— Don’t le—hem die. Please.”

  Linoan fighters broke course with the M45s and bombers, heading back toward Kyra Three. Specks grew on Earth’s surface until their alien shapes were distinguishable.

  “Shit. They’re recalling the others from the surface.” Bennett snagged every available team and opened channels to them. “All personnel, we have innocents dropping from Kyra Three in escape pods! I repeat: innocents in pods, Kyra Three. Fighters are returning from Earth. Engage; engage!”

  The M45s and bombers turned around. Their fire took out the back edge of the wave of Linoans now shooting at the tiny flecks of light. There had to be hundreds. Still, every little flash of an escape pod disintegrating was more blood on Bennett’s hands than he could tolerate.

  He fidgeted, watching the ships in their diminished forces head into the dragon’s lair. Bennett couldn’t stand the concept of commanding from safety when his troops were at risk.

  Bennett hustled around the corner and yanked two suits out of the closets. Rushing back to the command center, he sized up Azure. “Close enough. I hope it fits. Didn’t see any helmets.”

  Azure looked up and, catching sight of the suit, immediately rounded the table. He took the body casing in hand and gave Bennett an inspection. “There are helmets on imperials’ ships.”

  “Think you can fly one?” Bennett asked.

  “Probably.”

  Patting Azure on the arm, Bennett stormed past Miskaht. “You have Command. Amianna, watch our backs.”

  Amianna stumbled toward them. “S-sure. B-but wait! Where are you going?”

  “To help even the scores,” Bennett said firmly.

  Miskaht threw her hands toward the circular command console. “Your job is here, leading us!”

  “And leaders do so by example, not hiding behind a fucking computer!” Bennett growled. “This is your idea of leading, not mine. Stay here where you can help. You’re good at saving people. Figure out a way to get them to safety. We’re going out there where we belong.”

  Together, he and Azure raced out and into the hallway.

  Teek jumped up, sprinting after them. “Wait!”

  Bennett pulled him in for a side hug as they marched. “You shouldn’t be up.”

  “Can I help?” Teek asked.

  You can crush the control panel when we all eject so no one else can dock,” Azure offered.

  Bennett tightened his hug then released Teek. “After, I want you to go back and rest. That’s an order, soldier.”

  “Yes, Martiis.”

  “And tell the SlipShip operators they have permission to play. Just keep Zokri and Shiina’s on reserve so we can move remaining sectors later.” Azure asked.

  “Yes, Martiis.”

  When Azure entered the imperial’s flight deck, Bennett keeping pace at his side, his voice boomed out with authority. “Doku!”

  From the five airlocks to Suanoan ships came pairs of workers to stand in front of their posts. “We have innocents to protect. Fly with the strength of your ancestors and the heart of those we have lost.” He raised a fist in the air. “Dakan avituvey!” For freedom!

  They responded in a powerful shout and excitedly hustled back into their ships.

  As Bennett and Azure climbed in through the airlock into a ship, Teek waved the two workers assigned there into another.

  Punching the panel beside the airlock, Azure jumped into his suit. The door sealed them inside with a swish.

  Bennett got his legs and arms in the suit before taking the co-pilot’s position. Belts bolted out of five slots in the seat, latching together in front of him as if operating on some invisible guidance system. They cinched him tight, crushing the breath he tried to suck in from the shock. “Tell me how to start this while you finish,” he blurted out of embarrassment. “Then you fly, and I’ll finish.”

  “Tap all the glowing buttons in order top right to lower left,” Azure directed as he clipped the front of his suit and pressed the button over his sternum. The suit’s seams reddened and solidified.

  “Done this before?” Bennett asked, tapping the commands as instructed. The ship hummed to life, illuminating the screens in front of them.

  Azure smirked as he took the pilot’s seat and was automatically strapped in. The movement didn’t appear to faze him, making Bennett even more self-conscious.

  “I was not a well-behaved slave at first. I may have stolen a delegate’s suit once.” Azure’s fingers flew over the buttons and screens, and they launched forward into the stars. “They let me off with twenty gamazet lashings because I was fixing critical power-grid faults which supplied two tiers of sectors. Just didn’t ask permission first through Chamarel.”

  Clipping the front of his suit together, Bennett inspected the Suanoan Clio marking on his chest: three circles recessed in the black chrome. Running his fingers over the symbol sent red light flaring out through the seams, leaving him glowing beside Azure in the darkness of space.

  Bennett felt utterly turned around by all the flashing symbols and screens. He thought back to what his father said about Azure’s lost past with Suanoa. It made Bennett wonder what happened. Azure’s knowledge had to come from somewhere before his rebellious stage.

  Outside the window, beyond Azure, Bennett saw four other ships launch from Agutra’s tower. An arcing assault of fangs in the night.

  Azure whacked a fist against a cabinet at his side. The panel vanished, revealing a stack of ten helmets. He pulled one out and tossed it to Bennett.

  “You misbehaved more than you let on.” Bennett chuckled, donning the armor. Carmine light illuminated the front of his transparent face shield, filling it with schematics and vitals stats.

  “Suanoa don’t need helmets in space. Only in battle.” Chewing a lip, Azure glanced at him. Bennett saw mischief spark in the man’s eyes. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

  Bennett distracted himself from his inundating guilt by studying the controls as they neared the fight. “I didn’t want to be pushing names on an imitation battlefield any more than you.”

  The Suanoan ship had dual plasma guns in the nose. A targeting system lit up inside his helmet when he grabbed the joysticks. Bennett toyed with the rapid-response weapons systems.

  Snatching a helmet for himself, Azure slapped it over his head. One hand clicked it into place while the other banked them down under the main firestorm. Red light snaked up Azure’s front lens casting a menacing highlight over his narrowed eyes.

  There was unusual freedom in the way the ship moved in space without the density of air around it. To Bennett, it felt like they were coated in butter. The take-off was faster, the turns wider as if the universe couldn’t quite grab them.

  Thrusters in the nose, sides, and aft section blinked on their screens as Azure sharpened the turn. “Ready?” he asked, lifting them under the pods falling like drops of luminous green rain. “We have shields. Just remember your shots don’t stop if you miss.”

  Bennett swallowed and steadied his hands on the controls. “So don’t miss.”

  After a quick nod, Azure brought them up in-line with the first Linoan fighters. The tracking system in Bennett’s shield showed each as a red triangle, every UP ship as a circle. Bennett didn’t hesitate when the first ships came into range. The digital triggers glowed in his hands. The smooth recess under his index fingers sent out single pulses of flaring plasma, the one under his middle, three. All he had to do was tap, and the sky lit up like the fir
st day of the Three Hundred Year War.

  Azure flew them in switchbacks through the green rain.

  Targets filled Bennett’s vision. He took them out with precision. Blood-orange blurred the sky. He let out a celebratory shout.

  A laugh beside him made Bennett want to look and see if the ill-humored warrior actually smiled.

  Through the windows, M45s and bombers closed in on the Linoan fleet. Romeo squads, ArcStrings, and every remaining ship soared into the fight. Bennett and Azure dipped and wove through the chaos. Bennett fired at everything within range, growing comfortable with the guns in the first few hits. His focus heightened on the helmet’s sights even as missiles painted the sky red, and explosions lit up the night.

  There was no longer any order to the war. Squadrons were reduced to scattered teams. No one had accounted for the possibility of rescuing workers. They were in a downward spiral, all of Earth and Agutra’s ships, trying to protect helpless workers.

  “Hang on!” Azure banked them hard between two falling pods, slowing them until the ship shuddered to a near stop. The exterior of the vessels shimmered a faint green.

  Bracing himself, Bennett stared at the faces looking back: two children and three adults crammed into a pod for one. They pointed and pressed their faces to the window. Bennett caught a hint of sapphire and gold light reflecting off of the pod.

  The second they were clear, Azure launched them forward again, racing between the ejecting units. Bennett’s seat pressed firmly into his back, making him glad for the harness over his chest. As he lined up the guns on the approaching fighters, a symbol of the ship blinked in the upper left corner of his screen with a pair of hash marks inside. “Azure, what does a number one and an upside-down V mean?”

  “Full, why?”

  The lower level of the fighter flashed in red.

  “Fuck! They do have civilians on board! How in the—” Bennett lifted his wristband and called Amianna. “Tag this one as off-limits! It has fifty life-slots needing to be off-loaded!”

  “Understood,” she replied.