Earth's Last War (The Contingency War Book 4)

by G J Ogden

  “You can die here, on your knees, gutted like a racketeer,” said Adra, “or you can swear allegiance to me, and help me to finish what Lux could not.”

  “Don’t speak his name!” Vika snarled back. “He was a fool to follow you. And you are a fool if you believe Kagan needs us. We are nothing!”

  “I knew I was nothing the moment Kagan boarded my ship,” snarled Adra, and the admission took Vika aback. “He took everything, from both of us! But I will not live out my days reduced to a shell of what I was.”

  “That is your choice, coward,” growled Vika. “I will do my duty.”

  “You already broke your oath of duty by defying me, yet you believe that Kagan may yet give you another chance?” Adra laughed, contemptuously. “And you call me a fool!”

  “I cannot betray Warfare Command!”

  “Kagan already betrayed you!” Adra hit back, her voice rising to a shout, “He will never forgive your interference at the tribunal. He will ensure you suffer for that slight, right up until your miserable, pointless death.” Then she became more urgent, almost pleading with Vika, “Join me, as Lux would have done. You can live a half-life, always less than what you were born to be, or together we can destroy this human threat. That is something Kagan can never take from you.”

  “And then what?” said Vika, “We destroy these humans and Kagan somehow doesn’t find and kill us both. What comes after?”

  Adra slid her knife back into it scabbard and stretched out a hand to Vika, “Then if you still want revenge against me for Lux, I will give you your chance again.”

  Vika remained on one knee, processing everything that Adra had said. She wanted to believe that continuing to do her duty would redeem herself in the eyes of Kagan and the other Provosts, but she knew Kagan as well as anyone alive, and she knew in her heart that Adra was right. Kagan was controlling and spiteful, and he would never forgive her. She was destined only for a life of mediocrity, forever to remain in the shadow of weaker and less capable soldiers. To believe she could be content with a life such as that was a lie she was now waking up to. Only the prospect of revenge against Adra had driven her on, but she had issued her challenge and failed. And though High Provost Kagan may have destroyed her life, he had not yet stripped her of honor.

  “I will give you my allegiance,” said Vika, extending her hand towards Adra, who took it and hoisted her to her feet. They stood, eye to eye, each with broken bones, angry gashes, dark bruises, and glass that sparkled inside their flesh like jewels. “But only until we destroy the humans, or fail in the attempt. Then, if we are both still alive, you and I will face each other again. And next time, I will kill you.”

  TEN

  Taylor could hear someone shouting, but the voice seemed distant, as if he was hearing it through a stone wall. He blinked, but all he could see was a wall of light speckled with a chaotic pattern of blacks and greys, like an ancient de-tuned television set.

  “Taylor!”

  This time the shout was cleaner and more distinct, but he couldn’t tell who it was, or even if it was a male or female voice. He tried moving his arms, which he had a vague sensation of still being attached to, but then felt someone holding them and pressing them back down. He tried to speak, but although a noise came out, it was just a garbled, nonsensical gibberish.

  “We have to do something!” he heard a voice say. “Contact your sister!”

  “There’s no time, his neural pathways are about to collapse!” shouted another voice. “The interfaces didn’t reset to his normal waking status after I yanked him from the Fabric.”

  “Then plug him back in,” said another voice, calmer, deeper, “Maybe it’ll act like a reset button, y’know?”

  “Will that work?”

  “I have no idea, this tech is way beyond my understanding.”

  “Well, it’s better than us just bawlin’ at each other and watchin’ him die, ain’t it?”

  “Okay, I’ll try it,” said the second voice again, “I’ll use Sarah’s DMZ program. It engages the neural interfaces in a similar way to the CoreNet.”

  “I’m going in too.”

  “Hey, wait a damn minute!” protested the deeper voice, “We don’t know what that could do to you. This could be like a computer virus or somethin’, and infect you too.”

  “I’m going in, Blake. He risked everything for us, and we should do the same.”

  “Hell, let me go then!”

  “No, I’m going,” the first voice replied, “I’ll need you to pull me out if things go wrong.”

  “Whatever you’re doing, do it fast!”

  “Damn it, okay, but you’d better come back outta there, or I’m gonna be pissed!”

  There was a sort of muffled laughter, but then the sounds became muddied again, and the fuzzy wall of light started to become even more chaotic. Taylor could feel himself losing touch with his senses and what little sensation there was in his body. And then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the noise and the lights disappeared and the next thing he knew he was standing in the cargo hold of the Contingency One. The rear ramp was lowered, exposing the star-studded vacuum of deep space, and standing in front of the opening, silhouetted by the glowing red sun beyond, was Casey Valera.

  “Captain, are you okay?” shouted Casey, running over to him and grabbing his shoulders. Taylor felt the pressure of her touch, as real as the real world ever had felt.

  “Yeah, I think so, Casey,” said Taylor, now not only aware of the pressure of Casey’s touch, but also of a growing pain behind his eyes. It was like someone had shoved a kebab skewer through his temples and was jostling it back and forth. “What happened?”

  “James said that they hit you with the ‘purge’, whatever that is,” said Casey, “you were trapped, part in and part out of the CoreNet, and he had to pull your consciousness out by force.”

  “I take it that didn’t go so well?” Taylor replied, managing a little sarcasm despite the danger and precariousness of his situation.

  Casey laughed, appreciating Taylor’s ability to remain in good humor, “Not so great, no. But then we shunted your mind back into this DMZ place that Commander S cooked up, and... here we are.”

  “Why are you here?” asked Taylor, massaging his temples.

  “Charming...”

  “I’m sorry.” Taylor realized how rude he sounded; the sharpness of the pain in his head had ironically caused him to become blunt. “I mean why are you also in the DMZ with me?”

  “I don’t know, I just thought it might help,” said Casey, releasing Taylor’s shoulders and shrugging her own, “like how this place helped to get my head straight when you unplugged me, and Blake too. I thought perhaps you could lean on me; you know, help share the burden.”

  “Smart thinking, Casey,” said Taylor, managing a tepid smile.

  “Well, I always was the brains of the outfit,” said Casey, “and also the muscle, and the getaway driver, and the charming mastermind.” Taylor frowned – the pain meant he’d barely heard her last few words – but Casey just patted him affectionately on the chest, “Never mind, Cap.”

  “So, what now?”

  “I have no idea,” said Casey freely, but also in a carefree way that made the bleak nature of the response sound like it wasn’t an issue at all. “I guess we just hang here for a while until James figures it out.” Then she wandered over to the open cargo bay door and sat down, letting her legs stretch down the ramp, like she was literally perched on the edge of the universe.

  As Casey walked away the pain intensified, so Taylor quickly hurried over and sat down next to her. As soon as he did so, the stabbing sensation in his temples faded a little. “Well, as places to ‘hang’ go, this could be worse,” he said, looking out towards the warm red sun, which was the centerpiece of their spectacular setting.

  For a time they just sat in silence and enjoyed the view, and as they waited, Taylor began to feel the pain inside his head continue to slowly ebb away. The release of pressure
allowed him to think straight again, and he started to go over everything Satomi had told him. For the briefest moment he panicked, believing he’d forgotten the co-ordinates she had shown him, but then they popped back into his head and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Everything a’okay, Cap?” said Casey, hearing the sudden gasp. She was waggling sparkling yellow sneakers, and Taylor wondered if they were actually a real pair that she had owned, or just a mental projection of the footwear she fancied wearing at that moment.

  “Yes, I’m actually starting to feel better, I think,” he answered, pulling his eyes away from the waggling shoes and up to her eyes, which were looking back at him; concerned, but also strangely reassuring. “I found her, Casey.”

  “Satomi?” said Casey, excited. “You know where she is?”

  “Yes, and the real kicker is that she’s exactly where we need to go,” said Taylor. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? Makes you wonder if there’s someone pulling the cosmic strings after all.”

  “Or the cosmic threads,” said Casey. She paused, then explained, in case Taylor hadn’t quite followed her. “Threads like in the Fabric, I mean.”

  “I got it, Casey,” said Taylor, giving her a gentle nudge with his shoulder, “My brain isn’t that far gone... yet.”

  Casey laughed and nudged him back. For a time they watched the stars again in silence, but the void was soon filled by thoughts of Satomi. “I want Satomi to see this too,” said Taylor, somberly. “I want us to be together.” Then he hastily corrected himself, “All of us I mean… To be a full crew again.”

  Casey smiled, “It’s okay, Cap, we all know how you feel about her.” Taylor’s cheeks flushed red, a tell his simulant body would have hidden, but he didn’t try to deny it. Then Casey annunciated in a highly theatrical manner, “Love is like a friendship caught on fire...”

  Taylor raised his eyebrows, “You know, I actually haven’t heard that quote before. Who is it by?”

  “Bruce Lee,” said Casey, raising her guard as if ready to fight.

  “Who?”

  Casey rolled her eyes. “Never mind…” then she shot him a knowing wink, “If Blake were here, he’d actually have known that one.”

  Taylor snorted, “I’m surprised he didn’t gallantly offer to babysit me in here instead of you,” said Taylor.

  “Oh, he did,” said Casey, nonchalantly, “but, you’re my Captain, and it’s my job to steer you home safely.”

  Taylor’s smile widened, and for a moment it was like nothing else existed in the universe but himself and Casey. There were no wars, no Hedalt, no threats or worries. Just two people who shared a bond that traversed space and time.

  “No-one could do it better than you, Casey,” said Taylor. “I’ll always need you to steer me home.”

  Casey gave him another gentle nudge with her shoulder, “Aye, aye, Captain Taylor Ray.”

  ELEVEN

  Taylor and Casey had barely emerged from the DMZ when Colonel Collins burst into the workshop on the Contingency One, closely followed by Commander Sonner, who was staring at the back of Collins’ head with dagger eyes. But once she saw that Taylor and Casey were okay, her expression softened.

  “What on Earth did you think you were doing, Captain?!” yelled Collins, addressing Taylor specifically. “I ordered you to return to base, not use this ability of yours to venture off into… wherever the blazes you just were!”

  Blake who had immediately gone to check on Casey, leaned in closer so he could whisper into her ear. “Did that guy really just say, ‘wherever the blazes’, or have my ears gone funny?”

  “Yeah, he said it,” replied Casey, and then she smirked at him “And your ears are kinda funny.”

  Blake recoiled slightly and clasped hands over his ears, “Why, what’s the matter with ‘em?” Then Casey laughed and suddenly the room fell silent.

  “Is there something amusing, Pilot Valera and Tactical Specialist Meade?” asked Collins, his eyes flicking between them, “or do simulants find the idea of risking all of our lives and the fate of the human race comical? I should have you all deactivated at once!”

  Taylor positioned himself between Collins and Blake, before Blake could say or do something they would all regret. “I apologize, Colonel, I take full responsibility. My crew was only following my orders. It was our last and only chance to gather some intel on the Hedalt defenses around Earth, and I felt it was worth the risk.”

  Taylor’s apology and detached professionalism seemed to deflate the growing bubble of anger inside Collins, at least enough that he forgot about Blake and Casey. But he was still red-faced and not done admonishing him, “That was not your decision to make. As long as you wear the Earth Fleet uniform, you follow my orders!”

  But before Taylor could get in another word, Commander Sonner interjected, asking the only question that actually mattered, “What did you find out, Captain?”

  Taylor met Sonner’s eyes and she didn’t need him to answer the question to know it was bad. She nodded and then folded her arms, before stepping alongside Collins. She didn’t know how he’d react, but she needed to concentrate on remaining calm and unemotional to make sure that whatever Taylor told them was met with rational thinking, at least from her.

  “It’s bad news, Commander,” said Taylor, and then he redirected his silver eyes on the Colonel’s dilated pupils. “I wasn’t able to hang around Earth for long, but I’d estimate there to be at least a hundred ships already stationed in high orbit, close to the super-luminal transceiver the Hedalt positioned near the planet.”

  “That doesn’t sound like bad news, Captain,” said Collins, huffily. “We also have a hundred ships, and I believe our stronger desire to win gives us the advantage!”

  “It’s not the number of ships that’s the problem, Colonel,” Taylor went on, “their vessels are far more powerful. I counted at least twenty of the War Frigates Sonner and my crew encountered, and each of those is worth two or three Nimrods just on their own. The rest of the fleet was comprised of larger and more advanced ships too, and there’s no telling how many more Warfare Command have yet to amass at Earth.”

  “We have only your word on that, Captain,” Collins hit back, “And for all I know, you could still be acting on behalf of the enemy, feeding us false information and outright lies.”

  “Colonel, let’s be real,” Sonner cut in, “if Taylor wanted to destroy us, he could have leveled this base with the Contingency One a hundred times by now.” Collins’ eyes narrowed, but Sonner’s argument was hard to dispute. “I’ve seen what the Captain can do inside the CoreNet. If he says their fleet outmatches ours then we need to take him seriously.” There was none of the prickly combativeness or condescension that usually characterized Sonner’s conversations with Collins, only a cold solemnity that even the Colonel could not deny. The white-haired officer’s expression darkened and he suddenly looked a decade older than his already-advanced years. He stepped back from Taylor, while rubbing a finger across the top of his mustache like a comb.

  “Even if what you say is true, Captain, it changes nothing,” said Collins after a deathly silence fell over the workshop for several seconds. “We cannot stay here, as we know this location is compromised. And we cannot return to the asteroid base or the reserve base. In short, we cannot retreat, and so the only direction we can go is forward. We must press the attack.”

  Remarkably, given that tense situations usually brought out the worst in Collins, Sonner thought that this was the most sane suggestion the Colonel had yet had. But it was also still the wrong decision. Sonner looked across to Taylor, hoping that his spacewalk had also uncovered some good news – something new that they could use – and she could see in his silver eyes that he still had something significant to add.

  “We do have another option, Colonel,” said Taylor, and immediately he had his complete attention. “In addition to my reconnaissance of Hedalt fleet strength around Earth, I was able to confirm a hypothesis that Commander Sonner and I
have been working on.” He glanced at Sonner, hoping she would take the hint and roll with it. The last thing he needed right now was to have to explain to Collins that the ethereal form of a simulant that was still plugged into the Hedalt system had been secretly passing information to him, like a modern day Virginia Hall. “I have uncovered the location of something the Hedalt call, ‘the Nexus’.” Taylor continued, still with the entire room hanging off his every word. “The Nexus is the central node of the entire simulant network. Its brain, so to speak, but also its heart. If we destroy the Nexus, we disable every simulant on every Warfare Command ship in the entire galaxy.”

  “It would cripple them, Colonel,” Sonner cut in, following Taylor’s lead, breathless excitement tainting her words. “It would nullify their advantage, rendering their bigger ships useless and inoperable. We know that even the huge War Frigates only have two Hedalt crew, which is too few to effectively operate a ship of that size. Without simulants we take away the advantage of their ships and technology. Hell, the odds may even tip in our favor!”

  “And you say you know where this Nexus is?” asked Collins. He sounded skeptical, but Taylor and Sonner had piqued his interest nonetheless.

  “I do, but it’s deep in enemy territory, and it’s big too. I mean, big like the size of a small moon,” replied Taylor.

  “Then how do you propose to destroy it?!” snapped Collins, seizing the first opportunity to criticize the plan. “We can’t risk sending the fleet into enemy territory to destroy a planet-sized space station on the say-so of one simulant!”

  Sonner gritted her teeth and stepped forward. Taylor could have handed Collins an ‘off switch’ for the entire Hedalt armada and he would still have contended the effort of pressing the button was too great. He was set on his plan, and it seemed that nothing was going to change his mind. “Colonel, it doesn’t need the entire fleet,” Sonner said, trying to retain her dispassionate delivery, but she was almost pleading with him to see sense, “Taylor can take the Contingency One. He knows how to disable this Nexus, isn’t that right Captain?” She looked at Taylor hopefully, assuming that he wouldn’t have brought up the Nexus if he didn’t have a plan to take it down.