ROYAL LINE (War In The Void Book 3)

by Anthony Thackston

  “I almost have these thrust values figured out, sir.” Hannah typed a few more commands into the navigational console. “There.”

  “You accelerate,” Irons said. “I’ll steer.” He took the wheel. It was much smaller than the wheel on the Lucky Liberty. A surprising find considering the size of the Catters. “Durham.”

  “I got it.” Durham lifted a Wormhole Activator from one of the fallen Catters and ran straight for the front of the ship.

  “I’m flying blind, here,” Irons mentioned.

  “I’ll try to get an exterior visual.” Hannah went to work looking for a display activation command.

  A pounding hammered from the other side of the bridge door. Jammin and Haddron spun, weapons ready.

  “I guess they looked everywhere else,” Jammin said.

  “Haste is of most importance, now, Captain.”

  “Open that portal. Hannah, just push her forward. We need to get this thing into orbit of that planet and get off this barge before we’re neck deep in fur,” Irons said.

  Durham pointed the activator forward and hit the button. All anyone could hope was that close in front of them was a swirling black and purple opening leading to Erra.

  “How are my visuals?” Irons asked.

  Jammin turned back. “You’ll know when you see them.”

  “I don’t need commentary from the peanut gallery.”

  “Smug—”

  “Let them worry about the ship,” Haddron said. “Our mission is to defend the bridge.”

  The bridge door cracked open, allowing for two pairs of clawed fingers to poke through.

  “We are nearly breached!” Haddron shouted.

  “Punch it!” Irons ordered.

  Hannah commanded the ship for maximum thrust.

  * * *

  King Tar’libon sat in his throne room aboard his flagship. The room was smaller and less opulent than Queen J’s, filled with steel and stone instead of silk and gold. The room was designed for form and function. To show strength over grandeur. Utility over riches. And above all, to let his subjects and those who entered the room know that power had little to do with wealth.

  The four stone pillars in the room had steel rungs running up the cylinders every four feet before disappearing into the dark above the floor. Chains swooped down from the darkness, their apex the only part of the links that were visible. It was a perfect place for hiding if one so desired. A feature the King took no advantage of at that moment.

  He sat on a flat topped boulder, the front of which had claw marks etched into it. There was no back rest nor arm rests. And there was no cushion or cloth to soften the hard surface. Nothing about the room was royal or would make anyone think they were in the presence of anything more than a prisoner. But the four Catters kneeling on the floor knew better. They kept their heads down until spoken to.

  Tar’libon sat, one elbow on his knee. His other hand rested on the opposite leg. He stared at his subjects, exuding raw power.

  Finally, he spoke. “Failure…” His voice was low. “Our species has been saddled with failure for too long. The first war. Lost. The recent battle. Lost. The queen…Well, she has only herself to blame.”

  One of the Catters on the floor murmured, “Sire, we will continue the inquisitions—”

  “I grow weary of torturing these Errans. These Nordics. They turn away at even the mention of this Haddron Lariscthyus. He is a pariah among his own people. The few who hail him a hero have no knowledge of his whereabouts. Even on pain of death, their knowledge remains lacking.”

  “Haddron is no hero,” a voice said from the dark.

  Tar’libon stood. “Who dares?”

  “There may have been a time,” the voice went on. “But he has turned away from all of that. A foolish ally to the humans.”

  “Show yourself!” the King roared.

  His subjects launched to their feet, weapons ready.

  “What would happen if you were to fall?” the voice asked.

  Tar’libon stepped into the middle of the room, joining the other four Catters. “You forfeit your life with idle threats.”

  “Would Kar’libon take your place as King?”

  “Do not mention that name in my presence!”

  “No loyalty for your brother? We have that in common.”

  The chain above suddenly clanked and shook. All eyes shot straight to it and the sight of a knife stuck in one of the links.

  “The only difference is, I share no blood with Haddron.” Elit stepped out from behind one of the pillars. He glanced around the room, taking in the plain sight of it all. “I would expect more for a King.”

  Tar’libon burst through his own men and grabbed the invading Nordic by the throat. His hand was large enough to close fully around Elit’s entire neck, finger tips touching. “Who are you?”

  Elit grabbed the King’s wrist, attempting to pry himself loose. It was impossible. “An ally in your search.”

  “I seek only one thing. If you cannot give that thing, you are worth little to me.”

  Elit held up his teleporter and pressed the lens. Both he and the King disappeared, leaving the guards stunned.

  In another flash of light, the two reappeared just outside of the throne room. Tar’libon released Elit and staggered backward, confused at his new surroundings.

  “How…How did we do that?”

  Elit held up the device, again. “Not many of these exist here,” he said. “Still, you’ve been on Erra for how long? I’m surprised you had yet to come across one.” He smiled.

  “A teleportation machine.” Tar’libon reached for the device but Elit snatched it back.

  “Are you interested in such a thing?”

  “There is power in being able to travel anywhere at any time.”

  “Then maybe we can make a deal?”

  “Maybe I kill you and take it anyway.”

  “Well, to do that—” Elit pressed the lens and disappeared.

  The King spun around, searching for any sign of his return. When the next flash went off, it was several yards away.

  “You’d have to be able to catch me,” Elit said. “A task I’m sure you’d find difficult to put into your busy schedule.”

  “What do you want?”

  “An ally. Nothing more.”

  “How do you benefit?”

  “I have a small group of humans and my own people after me. You have an army. The scales are tipped far in your favor.”

  “You ask for so little.”

  “And I give so much more…your Highness. I overheard you wanted something. I happen to know where it is.”

  Tar’libon’s smile was sinister. “Slagschip.”

  * * *

  Jammin fired bursts through the widening crack in the bridge door while Haddron broke arms that made their way into the space. The claws swiped and swung at the two Nordics trying to hold the bridge.

  “How much longer?” Haddron asked.

  “We’re trying to blend in with a buncha Catter ships. It ain’t an easy process,” Irons said.

  “How much ammunition does this thing carry?” Jammin asked, firing another round.

  “Not enough for you to waste.” Durham shoved an extra ammo magazine into Jammin’s pocket. “We don’t need to fire until they’re actually inside.”

  “It will be too late, then,” Haddron said, kicking at an arm trying to grab his ankle.

  “A little more thrust, Specialist,” Irons said.

  “But Captain, that might tip them off.”

  “We’re losing options, Xuyen.”

  “Aye sir. Increasing thrust by thirty percent.”

  * * *

  The Ka’traxis Brood armada formed a dense barricade around planet Erra. Few of the vessels were actually moving, making the speedy travel of one stand out in ways those on board would prefer went ignored.

  The commandeered tank moved, expertly, amongst the stationary, orbit locked enemy ships.

  Once past the block
ade, the hijacked tank veered upward straight for the planetoid.

  * * *

  The bridge doors were open enough that any one of the humans or Nordics could slip right through. But the larger Catters were still held back even though their reach far extended anything remotely comfortable for those on the inside.

  Durham blasted a round directly into the face of a snarling Catter. “Can’t you shut these things?”

  “The doors aren’t responding to manual command!” Hannah yelled. Her voice was trembling. They were truly surrounded, inside and out.

  Haddron’s quick strike broke another arm while Jammin’s punch sent the same Catter backwards. It was quickly replaced.

  “I am afraid that blame falls on me,” Haddron said. “I dismantled the doors controls.”

  “Why’d you do that?” Durham asked, accusingly.

  “It was the right call!” Irons shouted.

  “How much farther?” Jammin asked.

  “It’s still two thousand miles away,” Hannah said.

  “And we got incoming.” Irons pointed at the display screen.

  Tank thrusters ignited, pushing the lumbering vessels forward. Durham watched the scene as four of the larger ships turned right for them. Several swarms of LAVs joined in.

  “I guess they figured us out,” Irons said.

  Durham pointed at the display screen. “We’re gonna run right into those things!”

  Irons grunted. “They’ll blast us out of the void before we hit’em.”

  “Fire first!” Jammin shouted as he fought to unclench a taloned hand from his rifle.

  “The guns are offline,” Hannah said.

  “Worse. Damn things are broken. That one’s on me.”

  Durham looked at Irons. His expression said everything.

  “Shut it, Durham! Everyone, grab a buddy. We’re teleporting out of here.”

  “They don’t have that kind of range,” Haddron said, dodging a fist.

  “Neither do we in this thing.” Irons spun around to see a Catter trying to squeeze through the door. Haddron pulled his gun and fired right into the big cat’s head. It slid slowly to the floor, blocking off the lower half of the opening.

  The Nordics rushed to the Captain’s chair where the humans were. Irons grabbed hold of Hannah while Jammin did the same with Durham.

  “This is a bad decision.“ Haddron fired one more shot at the Catter’s, killing one of them.

  “It’s the only one.” Irons pressed the lens.

  Jammin followed suit, teleporting himself and Durham.

  The doors were finally shoved to the side, opening the bridge, wide. Haddron turned to the flood of Ka’traxis Brood warriors rushing toward him. He holstered his gun and pressed the lens on his teleporter. The bright light startled the oncoming aliens.

  When the light blinked out, the stunned Catters were left only to stare at one another in their confusion.

  * * *

  The night sky of the smaller planet lit up from the three white flashes of light. Before the light could blink away, three humans and two Nordics found themselves all free falling toward the dark ground below.

  And their speed was accelerating.

  Fifteen

  Falling

  The cool night air rushed up to meet the freefallers. Irons kept a firm grip on Hannah, making sure she stayed at his side. He didn’t have to hold too tight because her fingers were digging into his arm. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to pry her off even if he slid the yellow slider to max.

  “Captain!” She screamed as Jammin’s rifle rushed up past her.

  “Hey!” Durham yelled as Jammin released him and slowly veered away.

  The larger Nordic hadn’t done it on purpose. No one expected to be met by the ground rushing up to meet them. Falling was an occupational hazard for anyone in Earth Fleet. One never knew when they might be shot down and have to make an emergency crash landing. Or a regular crash landing. Neither was particularly ideal and their odds of survival decreased from the sheer nature of such a landing. But at least in a ship, there were escape pods. On the off chance that none were available, there were huge sections of ship between them and the ground. This time, though, there was nothing. Only a long, uncontrolled fall and what everyone knew was a hard, death-dealing stop at the end of it. It almost made facing off against a mob of Catters and their ships more appealing.

  Irons reached for his teleporter.

  “No!” Haddron yelled through the roaring air. “If we use them now, we will still hit the ground at this acceleration!”

  Part of Earth Fleet training was skydiving. Though most of their missions took place in the void of space, they still needed to have the same level of training as ground soldiers in addition to learning skills for space travel and combat. Durham positioned his limbs to better control the direction he faced while Jammin and Haddron had more trouble keeping still. Durham maneuvered to grab hold of Jammin and steady him. “Reach for Haddron!”

  Jammin snarled at the idea. This would make a fine time to get Haddron out of the way. Not that it would do him any good from their vantage and trajectory.

  Both Nordics reached for each other and grasped wrists. Hannah and Irons completed the circle.

  “Can that suit carry all of us?” Durham yelled.

  Irons looked at Haddron for the answer.

  “It’s only meant for the wearer!” Jammin yelled. “You may be able to carry one of us if you must.”

  Haddron squinted, trying got keep the rushing air from his eyes. “Fly upwards with her, first.” He motioned toward Hannah. “Then press the lens. That will prevent you from striking the ground.”

  Irons shot a glance to Durham, uneasy about leaving one of his own in such conditions.

  “No time to think about it, Boss!”

  Irons released Durham’s hand and turned the dial on the vest, once again enclosing himself in the full armor. The change knocked Hannah’s grip free but Irons’s hand shot out and grabbed her.

  The boot jets came alive and Irons turned his body, flying under the others and dragging Hannah along with him.

  “Close it!” Durham reached out for Haddron’s wrist.

  Irons turned and rocketed upward before the light of his teleporter flashed, taking the two along with it.

  Jammin released both men’s arms.

  “What are you doing?” Haddron asked.

  “I don’t need a human to save me.” Jammin pressed his own teleporter and vanished.

  Seconds later another flash went off above Haddron and Durham. They both looked up to see Jammin falling above them.

  “What’s he doing?” Durham asked as he and Haddron re-clapsed arms.

  “Prolonging the inevitable!”

  * * *

  Strange shadows lit up among the trees as Irons and Hannah teleported just above the ground, already flying up above it. The jet boots shut off and the two dropped to the forest floor. Hannah still held tightly to Irons.

  “You gonna be ok down here?” Irons asked her.

  The tech specialist was visibly shaken by the ordeal. Jumping out of an aircraft with a parachute was one thing. Teleporting thousands of miles away from a planet only to emerge in open air was far and wide another.

  Irons tried to pry her off but her scared grip was like a vice. He looked skyward and the HUD lit up, showing three specks losing altitude and gaining speed. “Let go, Specialist.”

  “I can’t…I—“

  “I gotta get back up there.”

  “Don’t leave me, Captain.”

  “Dammit, Hannah!” Irons didn’t want to but she wasn’t giving him a choice. The thrust from the boots carried them both up, finally forcing her to release him.

  She dropped to the ground as the teleport flash cast the same weird shadows, making Hannah crouch down with her arms around her knees, fearful of what the trees held in the darkness.

  * * *

  Irons appeared just above Durham and Haddron. When he looked down,
all he saw was them falling farther away from him. Something slammed into him from above. His arms grasped for whatever was there only to find himself tangled with Jammin.

  “Let me go!” the Nordic demanded.

  “Quit your squirmin’!”

  “I don’t need your help!” Jammin pressed the lens on his teleport, carrying them both up higher and even farther away from the others than Irons cared for.

  Durham watched the next light flash, again. “What’’re they doing?”

  “Jammin!” Haddron yelled. “His stubbornness will get us all killed!”

  “Listen! It’s only a couple hundred feet and we’ll hit terminal!” Durham explained. “That happens, the heat from the frictions is gonna make things get really hot!”

  “I have been warm for the past few seconds! Is there a way to avoid this?”

  “Yeah! It’s flying above us!”

  * * *

  “You’re gonna get us all killed!” Irons pulled Jammin’s head close to the helmet.

  “I don’t need a human’s help!” Jammin tried to pull away but his own lack of training in a free-fall prevented him from gaining any kind of balance or leverage. He raised his teleporter, ready to activate it once more.

  Irons swatted his hand, knocking the device from Jammin’s grasp.

  “What have you done?” Jammin yelled.

  “Savin’ your rear!” Irons hit his lens and the two disappeared.

  When they reappeared amongst the trees, it was higher up than Irons had planned. He dropped Jammin anyway. It wouldn’t do them any good if the Nordic broke his leg or twisted his ankle but Irons was more concerned about Durham than the Nordic whose pride was putting them all at risk.

  The Captain looked upward and saw they were too close to risk teleporting and possibly missing. He flew straight up at them. The HUD calculated variables but he ignored them and decreased his velocity. The three of them colliding as opposing forces at their speeds would be no different than them hitting the ground. At least Irons would make it through the impact.