ROYAL LINE (War In The Void Book 3)

by Anthony Thackston

  She took a quick glance at the energy field created by the FAC and deleted her fearful train of thought. “But sir, the thrusters still aren’t—”

  “You can work on them when we get back,” Irons said, making his way toward Haddron’s smaller ship.

  “We will need to teleport directly in line with the equator,” Haddron suggested. “I would advise at the planet’s north pole.”

  “Captain, you shot out the teleport lens,” Hannah said.

  Irons glanced at Haddron, hoping for some sort of Nordic response or trick to keep things moving.

  “She brings up a good point.”

  “Just glue it together and keep your fingers crossed,” Irons told Hannah.

  “I would advise—“

  “That’s an order, Specialist.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Hannah bolted for a crate secured to the cargo bay floor. A key pad rested on the top of the container. Hannah input a code, unlocking it. The lid opened up and she rummaged inside, finally finding a spray can.

  She rushed back and climbed to the top of the ship. The spray out of the can was clear. As it hit the lens, it bonded and sealed up the cracks from the Captain’s assault on it. But it was just a bandage and nowhere near a flawless repair job. She hopped down. “It’s rough, sir, but that should hold.”

  “Suits me.” Irons turned to Haddron. “Just get this thing open so we can get this over with.”

  Haddron pressed an activator just underneath the cockpit door and the glass top rose. The Nordic man was the first to climb inside, seating himself at the front. He began looking over and recalibrating systems for his command. Elit had made a mess of things in the vessel. Weapon systems hadn’t been activated properly. Even the life support system had the wrong oxygen to nitrous mixture flowing through the cockpit. The little ship wasn’t going to fly without Hannah’s thruster repair but the way Elit had left it, it wouldn’t even keep Haddron and Irons alive long enough to get into the gunfight they couldn’t win.

  Irons climbed in the back seat of the cockpit and strapped himself in. It took very little time for him to start fidgeting anxiously. Once again, he was in an alien ship and the fact that he wasn’t alone did little to calm his nerves. Regardless of the temporary and thin truce between him and Haddron, it hadn’t even been a full day since the two were trying to kill each other. And now the Captain was only a passenger. He held one of his hands over the dial on the battle armor, just in case Haddron tried anything while in space.

  “What’s taking so long?” Irons asked.

  “Patience, Captain.” Haddron continued system calibrations. “In his panic, Elit has left us with quite the mess.”

  “Specialist,” Irons said. “While we’re out, see if you can reach Mona— Admiral Collins. Let her know what’s going on out here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hannah saluted.

  “Might be a good idea to start setting up a defense on Earth. Whatever the Catters are doing, I wanna be sure they don’t do it to our planet.”

  Haddron grimaced, wishing he could trade places with Irons. At least their planet was safe for the moment. His expression faded into a small smile when the irony of their circumstances suddenly dawned on him. There was a time when their roles had been reversed— during the war when Haddron assisted in keeping the Earth safe from the Ka’traxis Brood. Now here they were, full circle in some ways, with Irons helping Haddron with the safety of Erra. Unfortunately for the Nordic, Earth always had a fighting force where Erra had none.

  “Connect your teleporter to the ship, Captain. The connection is below your feet.” Haddron input a command, closing the cockpit door.

  Irons did as instructed.

  “Are you ready, Captain Irons?”

  “Just don’t get us blown up.” Irons leaned down and pressed the clear lens of the teleporter.

  Hannah averted her eyes at the bright flash of light. When she looked again, the smaller ship was gone, leaving only her in the cargo bay. There was little time to ponder in the next moments. She had her orders and she ran toward the cargo bay entrance to fulfill them.

  * * *

  Mona Collins fell back against a floor level conveyor belt in the Wartech Manufacturing building. Her sleeve up at the shoulder was ripped and red with blood. She checked the magazine well on her rifle. It was empty. She didn’t even bother putting it back in, only dropping it and the gun on the conveyor belt.

  Benjamin Stevens kneeled on the floor next to her. His breathing was heavy but other than that, he was none the worse for wear. He used his own rifle as a crutch to hold himself up.

  Both of them gazed around the floor and grimaced at the sight. The Wartech Security members splayed on the floor, dead from gunshot wounds, weren’t that hard to look at. They were doing their jobs. Sad as it was, it was the occupational hazard. They were soldiers once. They understood the risks of defense. The difficulty was with seeing the dead citizens strewn on the floor. People who were fed up with not having access to their own funds. People who were tired of not being able to get what they needed from stores that had quickly been ransacked and looted in the wake of Haddron’s plot for revenge. These were the desperate people who had no other means to turn to. And Wartech made for far too lucrative a target.

  Benjamin looked up at Mona. “Are you ok, Admiral?”

  “How could this have happened so fast?”

  “We live in an age of easy access. That access was blocked. People got desperate.”

  “We’re fighting our own people,” Mona said, the realization just slamming into her.

  “You did what you could, Admiral. You tried to talk them down. It was them or us.”

  “If it’s that bad here, what’s happening in the rest of the world?”

  Benjamin returned her question with a sigh. By now Haddron’s new attacks had stopped but the damage was already done. And with all shipments being grounded until further notice and news of another possible Catter attack, things were bound to get worse.

  * * *

  The ship appeared above the planetoid directly where Haddron suggested. Both Irons and the Nordic gazed at the strange satellite locked in orbit much too close to Erra.

  “What is this?” Haddron asked.

  “You’re asking the wrong guy,” Irons said.

  The hemisphere facing Erra was completely artificial. Its metallic surface reflected the star, Taygetta’s, light onto the planet. Irons made out what looked like cannon emplacements. Some were stocked while others remained empty. Lines criss-crossed over the planetoid amid what looked to him like structures. The small lights that moved along the lines matched up with the scan aboard the Slagschip. “They already got vehicles moving on that thing.”

  “They have made it their home?” Haddron asked.

  “Looking that way.”

  They turned their attention to the eastern side of the planetoid. It was dimmer than the artificial side. Only its edge was illuminated by Taygetta while the rest of it sat in darkness. The metallic surface eased out into what Irons assumed was foliage and the original natural aspects of the planetoid’s surface. There was no other light source as far as either of them could see. Not from their vantage.

  Haddron refocused on Erra and narrowed his eyes at the number of Ka’traxis Brood vessels orbiting his homeworld. “So many,” he muttered.

  “Thinking the Slagschip can handle them?” Irons asked.

  “Powerful as it is, even I doubt its efficacy against a force as large as this one.”

  “Sure is more than we faced on Jupiter. You want my advice?”

  “You have proven your capability in matters of tactics.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Irons said. He pointed at the dark side of the smaller planet. “We go in on the east side. There’s more cover there. Less likely we’ll get in a scuffle with any Catters.”

  “Why would we not attack on Erra? My planet is—”

  “Cuz that thing may not be an actual weapon but it’s got weapons. So it’
s an offensive structure. And something that size, the Slagschip definitely ain’t taking out. If we can get down there, figure out what the Catters are doing, then break it up from the inside, we won’t have to worry about it interfering when it’s time to take it to the force surrounding your planet.”

  “We attack their largest offense,” Haddron summarized.

  “Exactly.”

  “Then let us return to the Slagschip and form an in-depth strategy.”

  “Wait a minute.” Irons leaned to the side, trying to get a closer look through the window. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “What is—” A warning light from the ship’s navigational system blared at Haddron. He selected the blinking alert on the console in from of him. “No.”

  Both of them stared out the window at the nose of a Catter tank as it appeared from the dark portal of a wormhole.

  “Irons!”

  James Irons reached below his seat and pressed the lens of teleport device but nothing happened.

  “Teleporting now is advisable, Captain!”

  “It ain’t working!” Irons tried again.

  They both watched as half of the tank became visible. Automated turrets turned to aim at them. Haddron glanced back down at the console.

  “They’ve locked onto us,” Haddron said.

  Irons disconnected the smaller teleporter and leaned forward, holding the device out in front of Haddron. “Either this thing don’t work or—”

  “You damaged the ship’s teleportational capabilities. What did you think would happen?”

  Irons stared at the console and the blinking target lock warning. “I’m out of ideas on this one.”

  Twelve

  Prey, Not Predator.

  “Tell me you got the weapons on this thing working,” Irons said.

  “Against a Ka’traxis Brood Destroyer? Are you insane?”

  “You wanna switch seats?”

  “Need I remind you, Captain, we have no propulsion?” Haddron’s eyes darted around the edge of the cockpit as he worked to come up with some resolution to what was becoming a no win scenario. “That’s it.” He turned to Irons. “I hope your ability goes far beyond flying.” He held up his teleporter. “You take the outside.”

  “Hold on, what are you—”

  In a flash, Haddron was gone. As Irons tried to blink away the spots from his vision, he saw another yellow blinking series of lights. There wasn’t enough time to sort out what was happening before the smaller ship was struck by rapid fire from the Catter tank. Irons turned the dial on the battle armor and was instantly encased, head to toe, in protective armor. Though he wasn’t sure for how long.

  A single thought activated the boot thrusters and sent him crashing through the cockpit, up and out of the line of fire.

  As he continued his trajectory, Irons glanced back down at the smaller ship as it was shredded in the superior firepower of the large Catter tank. The explosion from the ship reset his focus to the task at hand. “I like this even less.”

  * * *

  Haddron crept among metal cargo boxes strapped to the floor in the cargo bay of the Catter tank. A few Ka’traxis Brood warriors walked by the wider aisles, each of them making their way to one of the large metal crates. None of them noticed him. He watched as one of the metal boxes was opened. A figure fell to the floor from inside the box. The figure was about the size of a human. It was clearly not Nordic. Not with the pink colored skin. Haddron took note it was possible the figure may have spent some time on Earth. Many Nordic’s had come to enjoy the hobby of tanning under the Earth’s yellow sun.

  Two Catters hoisted the figure up with ease and Haddron noticed the purple colored eyes. Whoever this was they were neither of Earth or Erra.

  The figure appeared genderless— at least in the way Haddron was accustomed to— and it was shivering. He took another look back at the box and noticed the frost and ice within it.

  The Catters hissed some order at the figure and shoved it forward.

  As Haddron watched the three make their way toward whatever fate the Catters had in store for the freezing individual, his eyes were led to a line up of Ka’traxis Brood warriors standing in front of a large display screen. The Catter on the screen bore the mark of some commanding officer. The Nordic man could barely understand what was being said. His own native language had left him for so long, there was little chance he could understand Ka’traxis. Still, he listened, intently, hoping to pick up on anything regarding the Catter’s plans for Erra.

  Every time the Catter officer on the screen paused, those standing at attention would make the same sound and salute. Haddron made note of the weapons at their hips. The crew on board the tank was just as armed as the tank itself.

  A sudden explosion rocked the cargo bay.

  “Finally, you act, Captain.” Haddron stepped away from the crate and took a deep breath. “Then I shall do the same.” He pressed the lens on his device and vanished.

  The Catters in front of the display screen switched from attention to high alert as their eyes darted around the cargo hold, looking for an assailant. Several of them already had their guns out when Haddron appeared in front of them.

  The speed of a Ka’traxis Brood warrior varied depending on the size and weight of the individual. Some were incredibly quick but most were nothing more than strong. It was a natural aspect of their physiology. Fortunately for Haddron, the Catters moving toward him were of the latter variety.

  He swiftly disarmed one of them and used its gun as a baton, striking the next one in the head quickly, causing a painless death. Haddron grabbed its gun and carried it the same as the first. Dual armed, he wished he could actually fire the guns and make his attack that much easier. But he knew enough about Ka’traxis Brood technology to know about the signature locks on their weapons. At best he had a pair of clubs. Compared to his smaller stature, they were practically bats. Regardless of their size, he made the best use of them by taking out another opponent while others converged on him.

  The ship rocked again from the outside attack.

  * * *

  Irons flew along the outside upper deck of the Catter tank. The targeting reticle on his HUD swiftly moved from one vulnerable target to the next. Irons chose to aim at one farthest away. That auto turret was already taking aim at him.

  The suit fired a rapid burst from the weapon in his arm. The explosion nearly ripped the tank’s gun from the turret. Irons flew through the smoke and changed course, flying upward, away from the large vessel.

  Catter tanks were dwarfed in size only by Catter fortresses. But outside of a ship like the Lucky Liberty, Irons finally felt the actual size of one of the enemy cruisers. He was like a wasp trying to take down a bear. His only sense of encouragement was that he was actually doing a fair amount of damage to the enemy ship while his smaller size made him a harder target. Still, he needed many shots to really destroy the tank. And it would only take one shot from the Catter vessel to take him out. Permanently.

  He changed tactics and flew straight toward the bridge of the enemy ship. A single cannon was mounted to the top of the bridge. “They ain’t gonna fire on themselves.” Irons said, landing on the cannon. He watched the other turrets turn toward him. It was a high stakes gamble. One that he was more uncomfortable with now that he was staring down so many weapons. The Captain’s breathing and pulse accelerated but he was instantly calmed down.

  “What the?” His mind went into an unexpected state of lethargy. He looked down at the cannon then back at the guns pointing at him. “It’s really not that big a deal, fellas. Let’s just all sit down and we’ll sort this out.” Irons kneeled on the cannon. The auto turrets barely had to move to follow him. “I feel really good for some reason. I don’t even know why.”

  His display suddenly lit up with a diagram of his body and the various chemicals that were flowing from the vest into him. Irons cocked his head to the side as he read the display. “You trying to make me go to sleep, suit?” He loo
ked down at the vest. “I gotta tell you, that’s fine with me but probably not a good idea right now.”

  The word [ADRENAL] suddenly blinked on and off along with the image of the yellow rectangle on the armor. “Oh yeah,” Irons said, glancing down at the chest armor. He placed one finger on the yellow rectangle slider and moved it until only part of it was lit. It took very little movement and very little time for the affects to hit him. Irons stood up and his vision became slightly shaky. The feeling of calm was completely gone and his mind started racing to form a tactical plan.

  His muscles tensed within the suit and he gritted his teeth. “This ain’t really how I wanna do this but I could get used to it.”

  The guns were still pointed at him but he was practically invulnerable to the Catter tank from his vantage. He raised his arm and fired rapid shots at the closest turret, destroying it in no time at all. The other guns continued to hold their positions but none of them fired a single shot while Irons swept the deck, taking out turret after turret. If the smaller ship hadn’t blown up, they could have used it to take out the rest of the tank at this point.

  It took no time for the smoke to clear in airless space. Irons surveyed his work and smiled. He turned to face the rest of the Catter armada surrounding Erra. Confidence was something he was used to but this new feeling wasn’t confidence. It wasn’t even blind rage. But the Iron Albatross felt like, in his current state, he could take out the rest of the ships single-handedly.

  His hand reached for the yellow rectangle, feeling that a little more of that chemical would make him stronger. But he didn’t raise the slider. He lowered it, his training under duress keeping him from making a careless mistake.

  His body quickly felt tired from the decreases in adrenaline. It was nothing a quick nap couldn’t fix. But even though the tank itself was no longer a threat, the mission wasn’t over.

  “I did my part, Haddron. Your turn.”