Defiant (The Mythrar War Book 4)

by Douglas Wayne

  "What the hell do you think he's saying?" Murphy asked as he twirled his vibro-knife in his hand.

  "He's probably selling us out," Rhodes replied. "See how he keeps turning his head this way? I'd be willing to bet he's in with the others."

  Bremerton kept his aim on Jenkins, the crosshairs centered over the man's heart as he talked. He wanted to believe Jenkins, that he had nothing to do with the attack, the assassination, or leading them into a trap, but the longer he took, the more it seemed like the Marines were right. If that was the case, Jason wanted to be the one to kill the agent himself.

  An agent moved into a nearby room. After a few seconds, two others followed while Jenkins trailed behind.

  "What the hell, man? Three? We could've killed them all by now." Murphy raised his weapon, training it on the closest alien. Most of the other Marines did the same.

  Jason, however, kept his trained on the now-open door that Jenkins had walked through. As the door closed, he pulled his gun away, but stopped when he noticed a flash of light from inside. It was followed by a few more before the door was sealed.

  "Jenkins is in trouble," Jason said as he brought his rifle to bear on one of the Klyptons in the rear. He pulled back on the trigger, unleashing a stream of blaster fire on the alien. The blast caught it in the chest, searing a hole in its flesh.

  Walker and the other Marines followed suit, bathing the other end of the hallway in blaster fire. The firestorm caught the aliens and agents unaware, killing most of them before they could react. Two Klyptons in the middle of the back ducked into nearby rooms for cover, while three agents did the same.

  "Hogan, Fletcher, and Mitchell move up and engage the Klyptons. Everyone else, provide covering fire." Walker cut the transmission, leaving the unit to act.

  Immediately, the three Marines stepped up out of cover and began systematically moving down the hall. Every now and again, an enemy would poke its head out to fire shots at the advancing Marines, only to duck back as they were fired upon.

  Even with Jenkins' apparent failure, things were looking good. Jason was sure they would have the hallway outside the CIC under their control in a matter of minutes. With any luck, there would still be enough time for them to affect the battle playing out beyond the station.

  Down the hall, he noticed a face peering out of one of the rooms. He wasted no time sending a wave of fire in that direction, forcing the occupant to duck back behind the door for cover. He pulled the trigger to send another round down the hall when something grabbed him from behind. It pulled him back with enough force to dislodge the gun from his hands.

  Instead of fighting against it, Jason put his effort into turning towards his opponent. The pale yellow skin and tentacled face gave his opponent away. The creature reared back, putting everything it had into a vicious punch towards Jason's head. Bremerton ducked, avoiding most of the impact, though the alien's fist grazed his cheek.

  Jason twisted his body around and lunged towards the blaster, only to have the alien tackle him to the floor. The weight of the creature threatened to crush Jason's ribs, but still, he flipped around to face the angry creature.

  Throughout the hall, the Marines weren't faring much better as more of the aliens burst out of the rooms up ahead. They returned fire with their gnarly energy weapons, forcing the Marines to duck for cover. A round caught Talbot in the arm. The Marine barely held onto his weapon from the force of the blow.

  A few feet ahead of Jason, Walker ducked in and out of cover, firing on the new threat that had filtered into the hall. He caught a Klypton in the leg, and another in the head before a third alien returned fire. The blast hit Walker in the shoulder and threw him back against the wall.

  Without the benefit of covering fire, the three Marines in front were cut off from the group. They threw themselves at the aliens as they exited the rooms, engaging the creatures in melee combat. But the Klyptons were too large and too strong for the outnumbered Marines, and seconds later they were all dead.

  Jason reached out, trying to grab the alien's arm before it could land another blow. The move threw Jason off balance and exposed himself to a strike that the alien landed with nearly enough force to crack a rib. The second blow to Jason's chest knocked him back into the floor, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for breath while trying to use his hands to cover his head.

  All around him, he heard the sounds of death as the remaining Marines seemed to fall one by one.

  So this is it? I escaped a prison cell only to die a few hours later to a Klypton ambush? It wasn't the death he'd hoped for, but it was death, all the same. His lungs screamed for air as he struggled to protect his head from the flurry of blows from the alien. Intense pain shot up his arms from the impacts, each threatening to shatter the bones.

  He was sure it was over. That he would die here, so close to his prize. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone standing near the door. It wasn't a Klypton, or even one of the Secret Service agents, but the aged form of the Admiral herself.

  Admiral Flannigan didn't waste a single breath before pulling the trigger of her blaster, obliterating the Klypton's head.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  New Earth Sector

  Cockpit, X-71 Fighter

  Fireball screamed as he unleashed hell on the enemy drones. He swung his fighter around Switch's crippled craft, protecting his friend as best he could. Deep down, he knew it wouldn't be enough, not unless Bobcat sent a recovery unit to save him. With the battle still raging, that was unlikely, leaving him as the only option to save his friend.

  As he swung around Switch's craft, he got a better view of the damage. Gouges had been torn in the metal shell, exposing the innards of the smaller vessel. Tendrils of mist trailed away from the fighter's exhaust port, as the ship lost its precious fuel, the only thing keeping the pilot alive.

  Hold on there, buddy. Help is coming. He adjusted his heading to face a trio of drones rushing in his direction. He didn't wait for the fighter's automatic targeting to lock onto any of the vessels before unloading a fresh set of rounds in their direction. As expected, the first few sailed past the incoming threat, but he corrected his angle, and soon the lead vessel was gone. The two covering its flanks were gone moments later, as he moved to take them out.

  "Fireball, what are you doing?" Bobcat's voice boomed over the comm. Her voice was usually calm and soothing, even when she was tearing him a new one, but now it only reminded him of his failure. He wanted to ignore the call and focus his efforts on the drones but knew she would just keep talking until he replied, so he opened his comm in return.

  "Switch is still alive. I've got to save him. You have to understand."

  "I do." Her voice softened, reminding him that Switch wasn't only his friend, he was hers, too. "But you aren't going to do it that way. Join up with green squadron and make a run at the beacon."

  "How will destroying the beacon help Switch?" he maneuvered his craft to bring another drone in his crosshairs. With a flick of his wrist, he sent round after round in its direction until it was nothing more than an expanding debris field.

  "Keep this between you and me, but Captain Wellard has Richards working on hacking the signal. They believe Richards can take control of the drones if we can destroy the beacon."

  Fireball pursed his lips and considered her words. Was it for real? Disabling the drones was one thing, but if Richards could take control of them himself, their odds would be higher. Even better, it would clear things up enough for Bobcat to send a rescue unit to save Switch.

  He pulled up the combat display on his HUD. With a few presses, he removed the drones from his screen to focus on the remaining NEC assets. "It will take green squad five minutes to get here at full thrust. Switch will be lucky to survive another ten." Silence on the other end punctuated his concerns. He knew she was poring over her data to look for a better option, but there wasn't any time. "Relay a message up to Wilson. Tell him to give me as much cover as he can. I'm going in.
"

  "Fireball, no! Wait for green squadron. I can send a SAR unit out to grab Switch in the meantime."

  "They won't make it through the drones. This is the only way." He considered ending the call, but she deserved better than that. Over the past few months, she'd spent much of her free time teaching him to be a better pilot, showing him maneuvers he wouldn't have dreamed of. Not only that, she'd nearly given her life more than once to save him and the rest of the crew. "Just make sure that boyfriend of yours holds up his end of the bargain."

  She was silent for a moment before her reply. "I will." Even with the short reply, he could hear her voice crack. "We don't have much left, but Wilson is ordering cannon crews to give you some cover. Captain Cass of the Detroit is also moving her cruiser in to draw some fire. It isn't much, but it is the best we have." She remained quiet for a moment longer. Perhaps she was waiting for him to say something in return. Giving him a chance to back out before it was too late, but his mind was set.

  "Thanks for everything, Bobcat. See you on the other side." Not waiting for her reply, he flipped the switch disabling the comm. He didn't want to talk to anyone now, only to focus on his final task.

  He swung past Switch's craft one more time. He swung as close as he dared, avoiding the debris field to get one final look. His friend stirred inside the cockpit, though only just. "Goodbye, buddy." He lifted his hand, touching his cockpit window as he made his final pass. Once he was clear of the debris field, he opened his throttle, willing every ounce of speed out of the little craft that he could manage.

  He cleared the gap in a minute, avoiding drones and crossfire as he sped towards the flagship. His heart raced as he closed in, not because of what he was about to do, but because of the ship's immense size. It was massive enough staged a few hundred kilometers away, but now, within a dozen, he could see little else. Still, his eyes were focused on a single point on the massive ship. His view was still assisted by the targeting systems on the fighter, but every second made that less of a necessity, and soon he could see the target with his own eyes.

  He steered the nose of his X-71 towards the beacon. During the final seconds of his approach, he unloaded everything he had into the target, including his two remaining thermal torpedoes. The effect was like a fireworks display on the flagship but looked to be doing little more. But the fire was just a front. Remembering the maneuver Commander Bremerton pulled off with the Endeavor, he knew nothing short of a bigger impact would do the job. He just hoped his little fighter would be enough.

  Even then, a sense of relief seemed to wash over him. Sure, he was leaving friends behind, be he would join others that had left before him. Anything was better than the constant pain and worry. Knowing he could save a few of his friends in the process was a bonus.

  See you soon, Lancer. The fighter tore into the beacon, igniting the craft in a massive fireball that ended his life.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  New Earth Sector

  Flight Deck CIC, NECS Reliant

  Tegan held back the tears as she watched her friend speed towards the beacon. Over the years she'd seen dozens of her friends die, but this one seemed to hurt the most. Fireball had embraced her from the beginning, accepting her for the pilot she was. To him, she wasn't just another corporate sellout, joining the NEC to avoid a lengthy jail sentence, she was just like him. Each was putting their lives on the line for a common cause.

  He wasn't the best pilot she had served with, but he had the most heart. Caring about his fellow man long after others grew numb. Even when he was down, he had a way of making other people smile.

  She tried to open a channel with him one last time, hoping to talk him out of his run. Before he could reply, it was over. The minute explosion against the backdrop of the flagship brought her feelings to life. She dropped to her knees, and for the first time in ages, she cried. The emotions surged into her like never before. Time seemed to drag on as misery took hold.

  "Commander, incoming transmission from the bridge."

  She tried to bring herself back to her feet, but her legs refused to cooperate. All she wanted was to be left alone. But she knew it wasn't the time. If she didn't bring herself together, his sacrifice would be in vain. She refused to let that be the case.

  "Patch it through." She wiped her face with a sleeve before standing up firm in front of the screen. She knew she wouldn't fool anyone on the bridge, but she didn't care.

  Richards' face softened when he saw her state. He held her gaze for a moment, allowing her to regain her composure before he spoke. "Your pilot pulled it off. The signal controlling the drones is gone."

  Her eyes darted to her combat display. When she noticed the drones' red blips drifting in a straight line, her jaw dropped. He'd done it. Fireball had single-handedly done what the entourage had failed to do.

  "Tell me you've isolated the signal," she said, willing her voice not to crack.

  "I'm running the final algorithms now. I should have them under control in the next few minutes."

  Through the tears, she smiled. "I'll order my remaining pilots to focus their attention on the active drones. I suggest you do the same. With any luck, we can have the field cleared soon."

  Richards nodded. "Give me a few minutes to finalize the signal, and I'll get in touch with your staff. Richards, out."

  Tegan wiped a fresh round of tears from her cheeks before returning to her display. Her fingers went to the screen to direct the pilots, but stopped soon after. With most of the drones disabled or destroyed, it would allow her to mobilize a few SAR teams without risking their lives as well. She might not have been able to save Fireball's life, but she sure as hell would honor his last wishes, official reprimands be damned.

  "Lieutenant, send word that four SAR shuttles are to enter the void and look for survivors." She pulled up her display, noting the location of Switch's damaged fighter. "Order two to head there first before spreading out to look for others."

  "Sir," the young lieutenant nodded and turned to relay the orders.

  Tegan returned to her terminal and relayed the order to her pilots to focus on the active drones. For the first time since the battle had begun, the NEC was taking control. They'd lost a lot defending their home and would lose more, but at least now they had a fighting chance, thanks to Fireball.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  New Earth Sector

  Bridge, Flagship Koniva

  Something snapped in the back of Miller's mind when the blast rocked the ship. He stood motionless at his station, trying to make sense of the sensation. It was utterly foreign, yet familiar as if it was how he was supposed to feel.

  A glance around the bridge suggested the rest of the crew felt the same. Instead of issuing orders down the chain of command, or to the other ships in the fleet, each sat and stared at their consoles.

  "Massive damage to the communications relay. Sending damage control teams to patch it up." Robbins stared at Miller from across the bridge, waiting for a response.

  Miller stared at her questioningly for a moment before the reality that he was in charge set in. "Understood. Evacuate that section of the ship in the meantime. We don't need any unfortunate accidents now."

  "Sir," the man nodded and relayed orders down the chain.

  Around him, the ship seemed to rumble, reminding him of an earthquake back home. It had been many years since he'd seen the coast of northern California with his own eyes, witnessed the waves crashing on the beach as he sat on a blanket next to his wife.

  It had been so long, he'd long since forgotten the look of her face, but he’d never forgotten the way she made him feel.

  Alive.

  To this day, he never regretted his sacrifice. Even as he became the face of oppression himself. The figurehead of the alien species determined to bring all life in the universe into the fold. The same face he'd spent a lifetime fighting against before.

  Miller still couldn't make sense of the odd sensation. It almost felt as if some burd
en had been lifted from his shoulders, like it had felt before his first time with Koniva, all those years ago.

  The thought of the alien seemed to remind him that there was something he was supposed to do. Damaging a flagship, while not impossible, was unlikely. While the aliens had never given humanity their technology, his time on the flagship had given him some critical clues, but never enough that he could work to catalog it himself.

  He sat back down at his station and brought up the display. With a few clicks, he opened a channel. "Miller to Emissary Koniva."

  Silence.

  Miller tried again, this time using a secondary band. After a minute, there still wasn't a response.

  The bridge crew noticed his unease and shifted in their seats. Could they be feeling the same sensation I am?

  With another few taps, he opened another channel on the comm. "Miller to Davidson."

  "This is Davidson. Problem, Captain?"

  "I need you to head down and check on the emissary. Both standard and secondary comm to his quarters are not responsive."

  Robbins turned from her station, her hand covering her mouth.

  Miller noticed it immediately. "Cancel that command. We have it under control." He turned off the comm and bolted across the room, not caring if he bumped into anyone along the way. "Where is the location of the damage compared to Koniva's quarters?" Miller knew the answer but asked anyway. He wanted to hear it from someone else's mouth.

  "Near the communication's array. I'm not picking up any life readings from that part of the ship."

  "Is he dead?" Miller asked.

  The question seemed to echo around the bridge as reality set in. The odd sensation, the returning dreams, had all returned moments after the impact. It had suggested his thoughts were his own, though he had no way to be sure. He supposed now was a good a time as any to test out that theory.