The Calypsis Project Boxed Set (Books 1-2 - The Echo-Alpha Duology)

by Brittany M. Willows

  Kenon went to respond, but his jaws would not obey. A haze seeped like mist into his brain, stifling his thoughts and washing away the words he wanted to say.

  What is this?

  His instincts told him to cry for help.

  His body pleaded with him to lie down.

  Lights flitted across his vision like embers of a sapphire flame. They flashed in numerous formations, burning horrific images into his mind—images of dreadful creatures rising from a crimson sea, of cities ablaze and figures encased in amber.

  Heat swelled inside him, sending violent tremors racing throughout his body. Terror struck him like a vengeful wave and stole the air from his lungs. He lashed out to catch himself as his legs buckled.

  “Whoa, hey!” Jhiral grasped his arm and slapped her other hand onto his chest to hold him steady. “Are you feeling all right?”

  Kenon scarcely heard her over the pounding in his skull. For a moment it felt as though he were in a freefall. Or rather, floating—hovering weightlessly above the floor. Then, as quickly as it came, the sensation began to fade. His heart grew quiet, his body cooled. Only the dancing lights remained.

  “Kenon?” Jhiral prompted him for a response.

  “I’m fine.” He managed to force out a response—albeit a lie. Wiser to tell an untruth than to try and explain what he had just experienced, though. The truth would only stir up more worry anyway, and judging by Carter’s rant, they wanted no further cause for anxiety.

  Jenkinson watched him closely for a minute. “Take a break,” he said. Not a suggestion, but a command. “Go get some air and come back when you’re ready. We’ve got this under control.”

  Maybe that was all he needed—a change of scene. The humidity in the camp could be starting to affect him, or perhaps the crowds and the clutter were to blame. Either way, Kenon saw no reason to defy the Lieutenant’s order. Offering a brief apology, he stepped down from the pallets and headed for the exit.

  ————

  The weather was about to take a turn for the worse. Masses of inky clouds surged overhead, beckoning frigid winds from the coast. The air had taken on an earthy aroma, and distant thunder warned of the impending storm as Alana led Knoble up the path to the refugee camp.

  They had been wandering the city for two whole hours before she realized no one had called her in to help unload the cargo. When she contacted Jenkinson to figure out what the holdup was, he told her the supplies had already been unloaded.

  On one hand, she was thankful for the time alone with her stepfather. On the other, she felt guilty knowing the rest of her teammates would not be quite so forgiving—Carter in particular.

  Echo was more than a team. They were a family. As such, they were all expected to pull their own weight regardless of who outranked whom. Yet, for almost a year following Pioneer’s unexpected departure, Jenkinson had allowed her to slack off—even tricked her out of a job on several occasions—and put her in the rear during more hazardous missions to keep her out of harm’s way.

  The way Alana saw it, she was being babied. The way everyone else saw it, she had become his favorite. What they didn’t understand was that she didn’t like it any more than they did. She wanted to be treated as an equal, not like some fragile child that had to be sheltered from the world.

  And now it looked like he might be about to slip into that overprotective brother routine all over again.

  “Want my advice?” Knoble asked once she had relayed the story to him. “Tell him exactly how you feel. Let him know his behavior is inappropriate. If your team is as close-knit as you say, he’ll probably just appreciate the honesty.”

  Alana hummed in consideration. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  The camp came into view as they crested the slope, its wooden walls aglow with lamplight. Voices drifted from the open doorway, a cacophony of laughter and boisterous chatter. For once, the refugees cried not with sorrow or pain—but cheer.

  Must be enjoying our little care package, Alana thought, a new spring in her step. Sometimes the smallest gestures made the largest impact. Though they lacked the power to end the war, at least they could ease the suffering of its victims.

  Alana caught a shimmer of blue in the shadows of the north-facing porch and halted. Kenon was pacing under the eaves, one fist clenched in the other as his lips moved to whispered speech. “Lance, go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  As Knoble carried on to the front entrance, Alana strode across the yard and ascended the steps to the porch. Kenon didn’t even seem to notice she was there until she spoke.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  He paused only to throw a startled glance her way, then continued pacing. “I don’t know,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “My head is filled with things I do not understand—thoughts and images all vying for attention I cannot give. If I focus on them even for a second, this overwhelming fear engulfs me.”

  Alana took a cautious step forward. Seeing the young warrior like this made her uneasy. “Why don’t you take a seat and try to calm down? Can you do that?”

  Kenon stopped dead in his tracks, gawking at her as if the suggestion was preposterous. And just then, Alana could have sworn she saw a glimmer in his eyes—not a reflection on the surface, but a bright glow from deep inside.

  Deciding it must have been a trick of the light, she made another move toward him and repeated herself more firmly.

  Reluctantly, Kenon sat on an old crate at the end of the porch and clutched his bow with trembling hands. “I keep seeing things, hearing voices,” he said. “Most times I cannot recall what they have said. But, hard as I try, I cannot rid my memory of these awful images. Death and ruin, dreadful beasts I have never seen . . .”

  “You said most times.” Alana parked herself on the dusty floorboards in front of him. “How long has this been going on for?”

  He avoided her gaze. “On and off since we journeyed into the caverns beneath the Deadlands. Though this is only the second time I have been subjected to these . . . these visions. The first was when I awoke on the shuttle. I had assumed it was nothing more than a dream.”

  “What did the voices say?”

  “As far as I could tell, there was only one. It spoke of nothing in particular, only uttered a few words of guidance.” Kenon looked at the obsidian bow in his grasp. “It may have been what led me to this.” He ran his thumb over the intricate carvings in its limbs, then said quietly: “You must think I’ve gone mad.”

  “Mad? No.” Alana shook her head. “You're hallucinating. And considering the amount of stress you must be under, I’m not surprised. You’re carrying the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders and everyone expects you to know what to do when the truth is, you just don’t. But if this happens again, you need to tell me. Okay?”

  Kenon nodded slowly.

  In the end, it didn’t matter whether he had a few screws loose. Stress or otherwise-induced, these hallucinations could be dangerous. If they persisted unmentioned, he could put the whole team in jeopardy.

  Alana jumped at the crack of thunder, then broke into nervous laughter. “I guess we’re all a little on edge, huh?” She stood and brushed the sand from her legs. “Come on, we should head inside. That storm’s coming in fast and I don’t want to be out here when it hits.”

  As they made their way across the porch, another deafening clap shook the ground beneath their feet. Expecting to see a massive storm rolling in over Alqui, they hurried down the steps and looked skyward—only to discover that what they’d heard wasn’t thunder at all.

  Slipspace ruptures sparked amidst the clouds, expanding to form great rings from which a fleet of Nepheran starships emerged, accompanied by a small Drocain battle group.

  The sirens began to wail, and the anti-air battery standing atop the northern cliffs spun on its axis. A brilliant orb of light manifested in its central chamber, growing larger and more radiant until it reached full charge. An earsplitting crack shook the city as
the gun loosed its fury on the alien fleet.

  The first bolt tore through the air and smashed into the leading carrier’s bow with a tremendous clang.

  The vessel reeled sideways and collided with a neighboring starship, throwing sparks into bleak waters below. Both ships broke formation and tumbled out of control. The carrier, unable to recover from the blow, was swallowed by the waves while its partner sped back to the fleet.

  Jenkinson dashed out of the refugee camp with Alpha and Echo on his heels. “What the hell is—” He stopped abruptly, his words lost as a trio of enemy cruisers discharged their cannons in unison. Three particle beams struck the ground a mile away, frighteningly close to Caenlegh Castle.

  And then there was silence—an eerie quiet where one would have expected chaos. Where was the fire, the clamor? Aside from the starship engines droning overhead, the only thing Alana could hear was the whistle of a breeze.

  Then that whistle increased in volume. The wind picked up and began to howl, whipping her hair across her face. Another sound vibrated in her ears, like the stirring of dried leaves, and the outer ring of residential estates lit up like a bonfire.

  The shockwave nearly knocked the humans off their feet. The camp windows burst behind them, and shrill screams filled the air. A few refugees dared to poke their heads out, while others scampered away with the children in tow.

  “Can’t catch a break, can we?” Knoble said. At Foster’s call, he jogged over to the porch steps where the rest of Alpha Team had gathered. Lieutenant Foster was standing at the top of the staircase, making wide gestures and pointing to vantage points.

  “Valinquint, are you sticking with us?” Jenkinson asked.

  Kenon gave a sharp nod.

  “Good. Take Jhiral and get the crowds under control before they hurt themselves.” Jenkinson beckoned Alana to his side as the two warriors hurried inside. “We’ve gotta get the refugees out of here, Carmen. Castle’s gotta be the safest place. Contact Levian and see if he can get a transfer approved.”

  “On it.” Alana ducked into a secluded area beside the building. She opened a comm channel, covering her other ear to block out external noise. It pinged for a minute, struggling for a connection, then a jarring racket assaulted her eardrums. Fighting the urge to tear the squealing device from her head, she said: “Levian, it’s Alana. Do you copy?”

  “I hear you,” Levian answered. Wherever he was, it sounded like he was in the thick of the fight. A series of rhythmic thumps buzzed in the background, each sequence preceded by a high-pitched whine like an energy weapon gathering charge. “Stay put, we are on our way to you.”

  Alana was about to respond when the line went dead. She rushed into the camp and weaved through the panicked crowd until she found Jenkinson standing on the supply platform. She clambered onto the empty pallets beside him. “Levian’s on his way. I didn’t get a chance to ask about the transfer.”

  “Shit. How far off is he?” he asked, waving his arm in a circular motion to direct the refugees toward the storage room. Carter was doing the same further along while Kenon and Jhiral marched down the walkway, making sure everyone stayed in line.

  “Didn’t say; sounded like they were in the middle of a firefight. Let’s just hope he wasn’t on the other side of that ring, or else he’s gonna have one hell of a debris field to cross.”

  Jenkinson chewed on his lower lip. “I can’t keep these people here much longer. It’s not safe. If he’s not here in an hour, we’ll have to leave without him.”

  Echo Team stood guard outside the storage room. The refugees were huddled inside, the adults with their arms interlocked to form a protective barrier over the children.

  Come on, Levian. Alana watched with apprehension as the holographic numbers ticked away on her heads-up display. And with each minute that passed, they gradually faded to amber.

  Time was running out.

  Just as the countdown rolled over to the five-minute mark, Corporal West called out from the shattered windows at front of the building.

  “The royals are here!”

  The camp doors burst open, and Levian strode in at the head of a heavily-armed platoon. Lenque, Cyra, King Amalan, and a handful of knights marched by his side. Their silver and gold suits were pockmarked, splashed red and blue. Drops of luminous blood speckled the collar of Levian’s combat harness, trickling from a gash in his neck.

  “Holy shit,” Jenkinson murmured. “What happened?”

  It wasn’t exactly reassuring to see some of the kingdom’s best in this sorry condition.

  “The Nephera bypassed our orbital defenses, descended on the inner ring . . .” Levian dabbed at his neck, wincing as his claws brushed over the wound. “By the time we detected their fleet in slipspace, the majority of their ships had already arrived.” He lifted his head when Kenon stepped into view, and a weak smile passed over his lips. “Kenon Valinquint.” He grasped the warrior’s arm. “It is good to see you.”

  “Likewise, Levian.” Kenon returned the gesture, then offered the King a respectful bow before asking, “What are we to do now?”

  “I pray once the defense fleet makes landfall we will be able to take hold of the situation. In case we cannot, all civilians shall be moved underground.” He turned to his daughter and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Cyra, I will leave you to escort the refugees to the dropships. Ensure that everyone makes it safely into the catacombs, and do not stray from the castle grounds unless I say so.”

  “What?” Cyra pulled away from him. “Father, please—you must allow me to join you on the battlefield! How do you expect me to defend the kingdom from underground?”

  “Do not argue with me. I am depending on you to protect your family and the citizens of this city. Now go.” Levian nudged her toward the entrance.

  With a huff, she stormed out of the building.

  At the crack of another particle cannon in the distance, Alana piped up. “Where do you want us?”

  “At the southern gate alongside my warriors.” He turned to Alpha Team and added, “Lieutenant Foster, you and your soldiers will assist the knights at the eastern gate. I shall arrange transportation. If either position becomes overwhelmed, call for extraction and head for the communications outpost near Va’rien Falls.”

  “That is what you foresee?” Kenon asked in a hushed tone, searching the Fleet Commander’s face. “You believe we will be forced to retreat?”

  Levian seemed reluctant to answer. He dismissed his family with a wave, and only after they’d gone did he drop his calm façade. “The enemy’s forces vastly outnumber our own. We were not prepared for an attack of this scale . . .” He met the young warrior’s gaze and sighed. “They know you are here, Valinquint.”

  Chapter

  ———FIFTEEN———

  0700 Hours, September 10, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Eastern Gate, Alqui, Kingdom of Oe’Nhervon, planet Thei’legh

  It never ceased to amaze Knoble how quickly a place could descend into pandemonium. Everyone and everything you had ever known could be lost, consumed by fire in the blink of an eye. And when the dust settled, when the feast was over, the only thing left was a veil of smoke so thick you couldn’t see past your own nose.

  Knoble had witnessed such destruction many times in his career. However, of all the cities he had watched burn to the ground, none had fallen quite this fast.

  Most of Alqui and the surrounding area had been reduced to rubble. Ash fell like snow, and a metal barricade now stood in place of the gate Alpha Team had been sent to defend. Admiral Anderson was apparently on his way with reinforcements, but if they didn’t get here soon, there wouldn’t even be a battle for them to fight.

  A flash of gold to the left caught Knoble’s attention. He leaned out from the alley Alpha had taken cover in. A bolt of superheated crytal ascended into the sky, arced high above, and screamed towards the gate. It struck with such force that Knoble went flying.

  He crashed into the ground, trailing colorful vapor, and
lay there for a moment, ears ringing like alarm bells in his head.

  Corporal West and Private Mäkinen hurried over and dragged Knoble further into the alleyway. As they set him up against the rear wall of a guardhouse, Private Dahan rushed to his aid. She lifted his visor to shine a light in his eyes, her mouth running at a million words a second.

  Despite their efforts to hide it, these recruits were a couple of nervous wrecks. Knoble could see it in the tremble of their hands, hear it in the quaver of their voices. Both were just kids from broken families and remote colony worlds—too young and scared to function properly on the frontlines.

  The rear door of the guardhouse creaked open, and Lieutenant Foster appeared. “I’ve called for evac,” he announced nonchalantly, motioning for West to hand him a fresh clip of pulse rounds.

  Knoble batted Dahan’s flashlight out of the way and pushed to his feet. “You want to bug out already?” he asked.

  “Fire’s getting too heavy. If we stay, they’ll be dragging our toasted carcasses out of here in body bags.”

  Both men braced themselves against the guardhouse as a nearby explosion rocked the building, only serving to reinforce Foster’s point. Regardless, this was nothing compared to some of the other situations Knoble had endured. Right now, they had solid cover and a better vantage point than most could ask for.

  They couldn’t surrender that easily.

  “We have orders,” Knoble said. “If we turn tail and run, we could lose the city!”

  Even through his tinted visor, Foster’s icy glare was clear. “So let it burn. I don’t take orders from some alien prince, and I certainly won’t risk the lives of my team for the alien bastards who spent a decade trying to kill us!”

  Another crytal bolt hammered the street, sending a wave of scalding vapor through the guardhouse. It enveloped Foster’s body, igniting his shields. He jumped out of the way just as the energy field burst.