Uprising of the Exiled (Splintered Galaxy Book 2)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  ►► Earth Orbit

  ► Sol System

  Both Gavin’s and Aura’s eyes beneath the covers of their helmets saw the John F. Kennedy vanish into the emptiness of space from their targeting display holo screen. “They’ve gone into sublight!” Aura communicated to Gavin.

  There was a delay in conversation between the two as their fighters made a flawless 180-degree turn heading back toward the Winston Churchill and away from the squadron of rogue fighters. “So they left their fighters behind?” Gavin finally asked after the Winston Churchill came back into visual range.

  “They must be trying to slow us down!”

  Xavier’s voice butted in over their radio, “This is Winston Churchill actual. Regroup with us; we have a squadron of fighters coming to our defense.”

  … … …

  ►► ESV Winston Churchill, Earth Orbit

  ► Sol System

  The bridge crew all possessed similar looks of fierceness and determination upon learning of the threat heading their way and that two of their own might get plowed into oblivion during their escape.

  Xavier cracked his fists and refused to take his eyes away from the central hologram that now displayed the current tactical situation at hand. “Will they make it in time?” he heard Ensign Chavez ask.

  “They are and will continue to be within weapons range of all those fighters,” Benally replied. “Unless they break away from them.”

  “She’ll make it. They’ll make it,” Xavier cut in finally, tilting his head away from the hologram to address the tactical officers. “Fire all antifighter guns once hostile fighters are in range.”

  … … …

  ►► Earth Orbit

  ► Sol System

  A well-timed and elegant aileron roll spin enabled Gavin to avoid rail gunfire from his and Aura’s pursuing adversaries. The Winston Churchill grew larger as they approached, but according to the light emitted from Gavin’s holo screen, the backup fighters were still too far out of range. Many hadn’t even broken away from Earth’s gravity.

  Red lines continued to accelerate past them, tracer lights from their attacker’s rail guns coming from behind. Aura’s fighter rolled and banked away from sudden death.

  “You trying to show off?” Gavin, half joking, said with a chuckle.

  “I’m trying not to die,” Aura transmitted back.

  Gavin’s weapons-lock notification began to blare, the one alarm he had hoped he wasn’t going to hear this far away from the Winston Churchill. A single plasma missile from the rogue fighter directly behind his fighter shot out. Decoy flares, evasive turns, Gavin did everything he could to escape, but it wasn’t enough. The payload from the missile shattered his aft shields and rocked the cockpit of his fighter. More alarms sounded, and his adrenaline-filled eyes saw reports of small fires and his overall shield strength drop down to 29 percent.

  “I’m hit!” he reported. Another weapons-lock notification added to the irritating symphony of alarms blasting into his ears. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “Hold on,” Aura said. He saw her fighter make a hard turn toward the left—away from him, Earth, the Winston Churchill, and the whole combat zone.

  “What are you doing?” he shouted over the various alarms in his cockpit.

  “Being a heroine,” she calmly said.

  Gavin’s tactical display showed her fighter continue to move away, and a few of their pursuing fighters showed signs of making a course correction of their own. Goddamn it, we’re close. Stick to the plan! “Aura, stay on course. We might be able to make it!” There was no reply from her. Gavin quickly moved his face back toward the holographic HUD as the weapons-lock alarm stopped. “Oh, damn it, Aura!”

  “A few are changing course to pursue,” she transmitted. “Get back in one piece. Was nice flying with you.”

  Gavin did everything he could to prevent his hands from shifting the stick over and making his fighter change course to help her. The reality was, he was in no position to play a hero. Getting himself shot down would only make her sacrifice be in vain. His fighter remained on course, and he hoped she could at least eject before they lit up her fighter.

  His computer reported a salvo of missiles was launched from three fighters. Gavin shut his eyes and opened his ears, awaiting her final words. Light from the subsequent explosion, rather explosions, brightened the interior of his cockpit.

  “Well, uh,” Aura’s flabbergasted voice sounded over the radio. “Looks like someone had a change of heart.”

  New data populated Gavin’s display. Aura’s fighter remained, and the rogue fighters were missing a few of their numbers.

  “Sorry for the delay, folks,” Orbital’s voice transmitted. “Had to make this look all real and dramatic ’n’ shit.”

  Three fighters of the rogue group broke away and continued to deliver their unexpected assault against the remaining fighters, all while denying Aura’s move to perform a noble sacrifice. Three fighters…Orbital, Hammer, and Hijinks. They slipped into the ranks of the rogue flight crew of the John F. Kennedy. It had to be.

  Gavin’s head jerked backward while his face stared at the ceiling of his cockpit. A massive grin stretched across his face under his helmet, a grin of relief and thankfulness. “Orbital, you son of a bitch!” Gavin transmitted back.

  “Winston Churchill, please don’t shoot us. We’re the good guys!” Hijinks transmitted.

  One by one the tides turned, and the rogue fighters from the John F. Kennedy exploded as Gavin, Aura, Orbital, Hammer, and Hijinks unloaded everything they had.

  … … …

  ►► Geneva, Earth

  ► Sol System

  “Almost there, Madam President,” Grace said to President Mariana Salamanca.

  The towering bodies of Jacob, Grace, and Tom in their exosuits formed a human shield around the president aboard a transport traveling toward Earth Cube. It rocked from side to side in a desperate attempt to evade random drone attacks. Below them, Jacob could see the massive pileup of idle and passengerless cars along the bridge.

  The bridge and the river eventually went out of view as the glass rooftops of Earth Cube replaced it. The light blue skies and the reflection of the underside of their transport could be seen from the glass roof as they descended. The three marines leaped out with their rifles drawn, no signs of anyone. Not even Earth Cube staff to escort the president to her bunker below. Guess that’s our job now, Jacob thought.

  Jacob gave a thumbs up to the transport pilot, signaling him to take off and leave. With the drones still at large it was a risk for the transport to remain idle, and with the president just outside of it walking away? It may as well been rigged with a bomb.

  “This is Staff Sergeant Miles,” Jacob radioed. “We are about to secure the VIP in Echo Charlie.”

  The three maintained their human shield stance in a tight delta formation, guiding Salamanca toward the central elevator on the rooftops. All three of their rifles continued to scan for anything, anyone who didn’t belong up there with them.

  One meter to go, the doors to the elevator were seconds away as their mechanically augmented footsteps slowly carried them toward their goal. A soft buzzing sound erupted from behind Jacob, followed by the sound of a very concerned and panicky president. Jacob turned around and saw Grace encased within the blue glowing net of a stasis field. Son of a bitch.

  “Watch your step!” Jacob shouted, not that it mattered; the place was clearly rigged with those damn invisible mines.

  Both Tom and Jacob grabbed the president and made a desperate run toward the elevator. There was a good chance that was rigged too, so they placed their bodies ahead of her, hoping to trip any mines that might have been there. They were out of options at this point: returning to the transport could result in them getting shot, not to mention they’ll have to wait for it to come back and land, forcing them to stay up top with the fiasco going on in the skies. Every option resulted in the president getting killed one way or another;
at least this one had a chance of her living through this.

  Another buzz sounded, right as they were within arm’s reach of the elevator controls. Tom became the next victim, now stuck, frozen in time. Jacob thumbed the buttons to summon the elevator, a little too hard, however. His entire thumb entered the terminal, and sparks flew out as he pulled away from it.

  He felt a force yank on the side of his exosuit hard, an invisible force. Jazz uncloaked from beside him, brandishing his plasma katana. Jacob leaped and tackled the unwelcome assassin; the joints inside his exosuit could be heard working fiercely to overpower and disarm Jazz. The two fell to the ground, rolling and wrestling each other, during which the elevator doors slid open. Salamanca didn’t need further instructions as to her next move.

  An eRifle slid far out of reach in one direction and a plasma katana in the other. Realizing he was now unarmed, Jacob hastily leaped to his feet, aided by his exosuit’s jets. He saw Jazz doing the same, but as he got up, his hand reached back for his secondary weapon. A rectangular object unfolded and took shape, becoming a plasma rifle.

  One bolt of green energy escaped the barrel of the weapon, grazing Jacob’s side as he made yet another leap and grapple, wrapping his hands around the plasma rifle. Jazz tried to pull back, to regain his advantage, but the extra strength provided by Jacob’s exosuit won their brief tug of war, yanking it away and tossing it off in the distance like a rag doll.

  “You wanna dance?” Jazz shouted. “Let’s dance!” His fist hurled toward Jacob’s face.

  Jacob’s exosuit-enhanced body pulled him backward, and then he raised his two fists, much like his now unarmed opponent. Both of them jolted at each other and started an inexhaustible slugfest. Jazz’s agile body, shrouded by the tail end of his black trench coat like armor, ducked and rolled to get an advantage, while Jacob’s hard-hitting and fast strikes kept him at bay.

  “You got moves,” Jazz said with his fist aimed upward, ready to strike again. “Us Canadians aren’t known for boxing.”

  “You a Canuck?” Jacob asked while taking another swing at Jazz.

  Jazz’s body spun away to the sides, evading the multistrike attack, and then replied. “Born there, joined the armed forces, went to hell and back in Afghanistan. Not much of a Canucks fan, though; that team let me down too much.”

  “Aye, I was a wee one before the NHL and the whole world went t’ hell.” Jazz went on the offensive, taking three jabs at Jacob. None of the hits connected; Jacob’s speed was too much for him. “Habs, though, that was my team, as well as meh daddy’s.”

  “Ha, fuck Montreal!” Jazz said, ducking from what would have been a sucker punch from Jacob.

  “You a Leafs fan, eh?”

  “To the very end,” Jazz said as the back of his heel moved toward Jacob’s head. Jacob’s arm swatted Jazz’s leg away like he was swatting a fly, sending Jazz to the ground.

  “The very end is where they typically ranked!” Jacob said and awaited Jazz’s next move after he side rolled and got back to his feet. “It’s a shame what ended up happenin’ to Toronto and Montreal in the end.”

  “I was in Montreal just before the invasion,” Jazz said.

  Another exchange of fists and kicks was delivered as the two continued to speak. “It’s a real shame how this all turned out. Had you stayed in the armed forces, you could have easily made general by now in the UNE,” said Jacob.

  “That’s assuming I’d survive.” A heavy punch hit Jazz square in his chest. His body flew backward, landing on his backside.

  “Ya made it this far and you were out east during the attack; luck’s on yer side.” Jacob was cut off by the sound of his exosuit’s power supply alarm.

  He moved his arm toward his face to view the wrist-mounted screen, the last action the suit performed as it shut down. “Low power” was the message that flashed, and his body became trapped underneath hundreds of pounds of metal and joints and wires.

  Jazz stood above Jacob and placed his hands inside his trench coat. Out came a battery pack, Jacob’s battery pack. “Clearly luck ain’t on your side today,” Jazz said and then dropped the heavy cube-shaped object and walked out of sight.

  “Don’t count on it, buddy,” Jacob said as he struggled to extend his weighted-down hand toward the battery. “I was out east too when the plasma rain started.”

  … … …

  ►► ESV John F. Kennedy, En Route to Jupiter

  ► Sol System

  A distressed Cartwright sat in his chair, observing the new and unexpected situation growing aboard their captured ship. Holographic displays relayed pictures of a Rabuabin psionic and the heroes of Earth—Chloe, Sarah, and Chris—gunning down their loyal members. Every new picture loaded turned into static three or five seconds later after they came in range of the cameras to unleash their assault.

  What the hell was Fiesei thinking? We were so close to finishing this flawlessly. “Engine room, they’re heading to the engine, by the looks,” Cartwright said. “That psionic, he’s disabling all the cams they encounter.”

  “What’s the status of the rest of the UNE fleet?” Kasidey asked.

  Delakirnei spoke, breaking from his wide-scan ESP trance. “All moving to intercept us, but we’ll arrive at Jupiter long before they get close.”

  A new holo screen appeared next to Cartwright. He saw the four enter the engine room with guns blazing. Being able to reduce or increase one’s mass in zero-g was giving them a huge advantage against their forces, not to mention psionic support. “Assuming they don’t sabotage the engines,” he concluded.

  Fiesei observed the ordeal from behind Cartwright; his face remained neutral the whole time. “Cartwright, Delakirnei, with me,” Fiesei ordered and then faced the two remaining personnel on the bridge. “Whigli and Kasidey, you two hold down the bridge.”

  “No,” she said, reaching for her ePistol. “I’m going with you.”

  … … …

  A one-sided gunfight ended, resulting in a single bullet tunneling a cavern through the face of the last of the rogue crew members. His lifeless body spiraled and flipped, leaving behind a trail of floating blood until his back collided with a coolant pipe.

  Chloe readjusted her body to face the large glowing apparatus that was the main reactor of the ship. She stowed her rifle away, replacing its cold solid grip with a P-4 explosive. Both Chris and Sarah did the same as their jets propelled them closer to the reactor. Blowing a hole in the reactor was the best and quickest way to pull the ship out of sublight speeds in hopes that the UNE fleet would intercept and board it.

  She arrived at the reactor and stretched out one of her free hands to grab a handlebar to cease her forward momentum, stopping her from floating away from the glowing power source. She pulled herself closer and began to fix the explosive device to the side of reactor. Her finger thrust forward to switch it on…and stopped midway.

  She couldn’t move. Rather, her suit froze up entirely, and her body merely floated like a statue. Looking across from her, she saw that Chris and Sarah were experiencing the same problems. Frozen suit, no signs of activity within its computers; her HUD became inactive sometime later.

  “Oh, fuck me!” Sarah yelled.

  From behind Chloe heard two eWeapons charging. “I’m shocked that worked; I really am!” It was Fiesei’s voice. “Your protect suits still have the old debug commands active from when the Linl first were testing them.”

  Thanks for the tip, she thought, for she’d have to request to have the R&D team find and remove that the next chance she got, if there was a next time. She heard two, maybe three guns discharge and their bullets slamming against what sounded like a psionic shield. Michei was under attack. Shit!

  “Michei!” Chloe called out to him, but there was no reply, just gunshots and then later explosions. Chloe could see light from a wide source of colors splash against the side of the reactor; another psionic was joined the fight.

  Blue light from Michei’s jump port placed his floatin
g body above her. Looking up, she said, “We can’t move!”

  “I’m on it!” he replied, snapping his fingers. She felt her body become free as the protect suit joints unlocked. “Get out of your suit. It’s just deadweight now!” Michei vanished as she, Sarah, and Chris removed the now paralyzing suits of armor away from their bodies. A tank top, pants, and boots were now the only sources of protection they had.

  “I miss Kevlar,” Chris said dejectedly.

  The coldness of her rifle was once again in Chloe’s now bare hands as she kicked her way behind a nearby computer terminal. Kasidey and Cartwright focused their shots toward Michei and now Sarah and Chris as they scattered looking for cover. Michei dueled with the Vorcambreum psionic via teleporting across the engine room and conjuring purple plasma balls to hurl at each other.

  Between the psionics fighting each other and the gunfire, there might not have been much of a fully operational engine room after all. Chloe looked back toward the P-4 explosive still mounted to the side of the reactor and started to smile.

  Kasidey and Cartwright were still too fixated on shooting at Sarah and Chris, who now took cover behind a workstation, returning fire whenever they could. Fiesei was still clearly obsessed with Chloe, enough to order them not to kill her. Time to use this to my advantage.

  She quickly swam back toward her P-4 and hastily ripped it off the side of the reactor before gently tossing it toward an unsuspecting Kasidey and Cartwright. The device flipped and floated toward the main entrance of the engine room where the two took cover. Chloe observed the journey of her P-4 through the sights of her rifle as she aimed at it. Her finger rested next to the trigger and waited until the time was right. The P-4 floated above the heads of Kasidey and Cartwright.

  Neither of them noticed.

  Good enough, Chloe thought and pulled the trigger.

  The following green blast of plasma and flames from the P-4 enveloped the two while distracting the Vorcambreum psionic long enough for Michei to shoot him with a volley of plasma, shattering his shields. He followed up with a telekinetic push that launched the tiny alien into the wall while Chloe moved her rifle’s sights toward the chest of the Vorcambreum psionic. The subsequent stream of bullets perforated it multiple times, and a river of weightless Vorcambreum blood floated away seconds later. Its lifeless body drifted and somersaulted until it smacked into a wall.