Hero's End (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 2)

by JC Cassels

  “No. They’re probably moving to outflank us,” Royce said.

  Blade hated to admit that Royce was probably right.

  “We’ve got maybe five, ten minutes, tops,” Blade said.

  “I don’t like it,” Royce said. “I feel very exposed here.”

  A volley of blaster fire cracked out from the tree line. The cruiser shuddered with every thump of impact from the blasts.

  “Out!” Royce bellowed.

  He pushed the door open and shoved Bhruic out onto the yellow grass, flinging himself after him. The far door exploded inward. Molten metal and bits of shrapnel struck the upholstery, tearing burning holes and leaving flaming blobs of goo.

  Bhruic scrambled back against the cruiser. He clutched his hand to his side. He caught Blade’s stare and pulled his hand away. Blood stained his fingers red.

  “I’m hit,” he said. His shoulders shook with a self-deprecating chuckle and he shook his head. “It’s not bad.”

  Blade started towards him. “Let me see.”

  Bhruic shook his head. “No,” he said. “Don’t get distracted. I’ve had enough injuries to know when one is serious. This isn’t. Hold your position.”

  Nodding, Blade resumed his place.

  Complete silence filled the lawn. Not a leaf stirred. Not even an insect buzzed. It had been so peaceful on the way in; now an expectant pall hung over the lush lawn.

  “So what kind of man are you?”

  The question, unexpected in the oppressive quiet, hit Blade like a chunk of fuseform. He glanced at Bhruic, at a loss for an answer.

  “You love Bo. I assume she loves you. I’m just wondering what kind of man my daughter took up with.”

  Blade looked helplessly to Royce, who’d taken position at the rear fender.

  “He’s a good one,” Royce said. “The kid’s one of the good ones.”

  Bhruic tossed his brother an amused grin. “Looks like Royce is a fan,” he said. “He doesn’t usually vouch for people.”

  “I don’t like many people,” Royce growled.

  “You like him,” Bhruic said.

  Royce nodded. “He’s alright.”

  Bhruic chuckled and looked to Blade. “So you’re a good man, then.”

  Blade shrugged. “Consider the source,” he said. His lips twitched.

  Royce lifted his chin in acknowledgement.

  “I’m just me, Barron,” Blade said. “Good…bad…indifferent… I’m just me.”

  Another stream of constant fire came from the tree line, striking the cruiser. Blade ducked down behind the fender.

  They were indeed moving.

  He winced at the force of impact. At the first break in firing, Blade and Royce unleashed a steady stream of accurate blaster fire on the shooter’s position. Energy blasts came in from the other angle, sending them back behind the dubious safety of the cruiser.

  “One-eighties,” Royce said. The high-powered sniper weapon was unmistakable.

  Blade nodded. “Heavy to move.” He ought to know, he’d qualified with one during his Predator training.

  “That’ll buy us a little more time,” Bhruic said.

  “Maybe,” Blade said. “We’ve got two shooters. That would account for the two missing hunters. There may not be an aerial assault.”

  “Unless they brought friends,” Royce said.

  Blade tightened the grip on his blaster. “Or made new ones.”

  “Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine?” Royce smirked at him.

  “You two have done this before,” Bhruic said.

  Royce snorted. “Once or twice.”

  Blade grinned. He and Royce had worked together more than they could admit. Their operations were all off the books.

  Bhruic’s eyes narrowed. He held up his blaster, shushing them. He canted his head. His breathing grew shallow.

  “We’ve got incoming,” he said.

  Sure enough, the rising howl of powerful engines cut the silence. Blade scanned the milky sky.

  “It’s military,” Bhruic said. “It’s a light, distance cruiser.” He closed his eyes and strained to make out the sounds. “There’s something strange about those engines, though.”

  Blade exchanged a look with Royce. “Sundance.”

  Royce nodded. “I sure as hell hope so.”

  The deafening roar of the engines settled over them, growing louder. Sundance broke through the clouds. Blade’s com-set signaled.

  “Devon.”

  “Sir, there are multiple life signs converging on your position. Sensors indicate they are armed.”

  “Open fire, Sundance,” Blade said. “Take them out.”

  The belly cannons swiveled and fired. The ground shook with the force of the blasts. Flames exploded skyward, igniting the vegetation in the tree line at multiple locations. Blade holstered his blaster and moved to Bhruic’s side. Brushing aside his hand, he looked at the metal embedded in his lower abdomen.

  “Told you it wasn’t bad,” Bhruic said.

  Blade’s lips quirked and he pulled Bhruic to his feet. “No, but you still have a date with sick bay,” he said.

  Sundance settled lightly on its landing gear. The ramp lowered and the hatch irised open. Blade looked to Royce, who waved him ahead. Blade wasted no time getting the injured man aboard. He didn’t slow down until they reached the converted cargo bay that doubled as a state-of-the-art medical facility. The lights flared on. Blade eased Bhruic onto the exam table.

  “Sundance, this is Bo’s father. He took some shrapnel. I don’t think it’s deep, but you need to address this.”

  “Understood,” Sundance replied.

  Blade patted Bhruic’s shoulder. “Sundance will take good care of you,” he said. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

  Without waiting for a response, Blade ran out of the cargo bay and up the steps to the main deck. He skipped past Royce.

  “He’s in sick bay,” Blade said.

  Royce nodded and headed that way.

  “Sundance, is the ship sealed?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Blade hauled himself up the steps to the flight deck and fell into the pilot’s seat. He didn’t bother with the g-locks. As he’d suspected, there wasn’t time. A blip on the sensor array was closing fast on their position.

  “Bogey coming in,” he said.

  “Sir, they are charging weapons,” Sundance said. “Shall I raise shields?”

  “Raise shields.”

  He glanced around the empty flight deck.

  A chill wave of panic roiled his stomach.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered. “I’m on my own.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I can handle this,” he muttered.

  The ship rocked and bucked as a volley of cannonfire lit up the forward screens.

  Blade flinched against the glare. “Who am I kidding? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”

  He wrestled with the ship’s helm controls.

  “Certifiably crazy pilot who hasn’t been in the hot seat in ten years or more…”

  Another burst against the shields knocked Sundance off course.

  “A drunken excuse for an IC Agent who probably wants to kill us all…”

  Blade glanced over his shoulder, praying he hadn’t imagined the footsteps on the stairs. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and he swiped the sleeve of his jacket. The leather only smeared it around and the sweat stung his eyes.

  No one came charging through the hatch.

  He was on his own.

  He looked back at his forward screens. As the glare faded, a rocky cliff face filled the viewport. With a squawk, he pulled back on the steering column, sending the ship into a steep climb at the last possible moment. Once above the mountain range, he leveled off and scanned the readout of the terrain.

  “And I crash everything I ever get behind the controls of.”

  Muttering a curse, he tightened his grip on the steering column and took a deep breath, trying t
o calm his pounding heart.

  “Whoever said a sim is a good substitute for the real thing is a freakin’ idiot! Sundance, you could have told me we were about to crash!”

  “The red flashing light at the center of the console is a proximity alarm,” Sundance replied. “Commander Barron covered that with you during your initial orientation.”

  “Yeah, well, I was busy at the time!”

  “Perhaps if you had paid more attention to what she was saying and less attention to trying to seduce her, you would have known what the lights and alarms on the console are for. I have a record of your orientation, would you like me to replay it for you?”

  “NO!” Blade shouted. “If her father or uncle sees what we did that day, they’ll kill me!”

  “What’s going on up there?” Royce’s voice crackled across the intercom.

  Blade tapped the button that opened the intercom. “It’s those hunters we heard about on Rogue’s Cross,” he said. “They came out of nowhere.”

  The other ship fired again, lighting up the displays and momentarily blinding him. Blade blinked against the flashes and scanned the readouts. Should he try to outrun them or outmaneuver them? Would he be better off breaking grav or engaging sub-coronally?

  “What do I do, Sundance? What would Bo do?”

  “Try not to crash,” Royce’s voice came from behind him.

  A wave of relief crashed over him. Blade drew a deep breath and blew it out quickly.

  “Thanks for joining the party,” he said.

  Royce didn’t bother to look at him. His amber eyes flicked over the readouts, taking stock of the situation. He grabbed a fistful of Blade’s jacket at the shoulder and hoisted him out of the pilot’s seat.

  “Get up,” he said. “You’re gonna get us all killed.”

  Grateful to be relieved of duty, Blade stumbled out of the way, letting Royce slide behind the controls.

  “You’re in way over your head, kid,” Royce said. “Why didn’t you yell for help?”

  Under Royce’s deft hands, Sundance’s erratic flying smoothed out as he sent the ship into evasive maneuvers with balletic grace.

  Blade swallowed and wiped at the perspiration on his face. “I didn’t know you knew how to fly. I’ve never seen you take the controls of anything.”

  Royce’s lips twisted. “I’m a freakin’ Barron, dumbass. Of course I can fly.”

  Another volley of cannonfire rocked the ship. Blade gripped the back of Royce’s seat to stay on his feet as the force threw him forward.

  “Can you shake them?”

  “Do I have to?” Royce fired back. “I’m trying to see how many direct hits this bird can take and still be spaceworthy.” He tossed a quick glare over his shoulder.

  Royce put the ship into a dive that sent Blade’s internal organs into his throat. Blade’s fingers tightened on the bulkhead handholds until his knuckles showed white. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge his spleen from his voicebox. He cleared his throat to speak, but the next rolling dive Royce sent the ship into cut him off. Knees bent, Blade gripped the bulkheads, bracing himself to keep from being tossed about in the planetary gravity well.

  Muttering a curse, Royce’s eyes narrowed as a flashing light signaled an imminent system failure.

  “Blade, close the port vents and cut power to that thruster.” Bhruic’s gravelly baritone came from the hatchway.

  The quiet authority in his tone had Blade moving to obey before he realized what he was doing.

  “I got it,” Royce said. He watched Blade cut the power with a jaundiced eye. “What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be getting checked out by the ship’s computer.”

  “I was. I told you it wasn’t bad,” Bhruic said with an almost blasé lack of concern.

  Like the seasoned spacer he was, Bhruic swayed easily against the wildly bucking movements of the ship as he came up behind Blade. He glanced over the readouts, then peered out the forward screens of the flight deck’s canopy. He rested a hand lightly on Blade’s shoulder.

  “Sit down over here, son, before you get hurt.” He gestured absently at the navigator’s seat behind Royce.

  Steadied by Bhruic, Blade slid into the seat and buckled the g-locks, snugging the straps down securely. Buoyed by his quiet confidence, Blade took another deep breath, pulling himself back from the brink of panic. Getting shot at on the ground was one thing. Adding the potential for crashing or decompression took the gun battle to a level well outside Blade’s comfort zone.

  “Put in a course for wherever you two are planning on taking me,” Bhruic said.

  Relieved to have a task he felt comfortable with, Blade nodded and turned his attention to the navigational computer. As he keyed in the coordinates for Kah Lahtrec, Bhruic rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “Royce, what are you trying to accomplish?”

  “Saving our skins for a start!”

  “Well, you’re not going to do it this way.”

  Royce’s shoulders stiffened and he shifted in his seat. “Look, I…”

  Another volley sent a surge of energy through the outer shields, cutting him off. Cursing in Gallic, Royce sent the ship into a tight series of evasive maneuvers that would have thrown Blade from his seat had he not been buckled in. Bhruic braced himself and swayed like a wraith in the breeze. Injured or not, the man was the most seasoned spacer Blade had ever met.

  “Sub-coronal evasion was never your best subject,” Bhruic said, his tone matter-of-fact. “You keep miscalculating the gravity well and the atmospheric interference.”

  “I’m still a Barron Clan pilot…”

  “Who’s badly out of practice,” Bhruic finished for him. “Get up and let me do this before you kill us all. I’d have shaken them by now.”

  “‘Kill us all?’ Now wait a minute…”

  Bhruic shook his head. “Don’t be so emotional. That’s how mistakes are made. Now get out of my seat.”

  Grumbling, Royce yielded the pilot’s chair to his brother. Bhruic buckled in quickly. While Royce buckled himself into the co-pilot’s seat, Bhruic’s hands flew across the control panel with a sureness very like Bo’s. Turning back towards the city, he sent Sundance into a stomach churning series of maneuvers, rolls, and erratic dips and turns. Blade gripped his armrest tightly and silently prayed.

  “Who the hell are these guys?” Bhruic growled.

  “I know,” Royce said. “They’re good. It’s like they’ve got a Barron Clan pilot.”

  Bhruic snorted.

  “They might,” Blade said.

  Bhruic guided the ship lower to the ground and flew between two tall buildings. Blade held his breath until they broke through the other side. The city flew past them in a blur as Sundance wove in and out among buildings and towers, dodging power lines, relay stations and air traffic.

  “Highly unlikely,” Bhruic said.

  “It makes sense,” Blade went on. “Someone close to you has been trying to kill you for a long time.”

  Bhruic lifted his chin and studied the terrain. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Stealing your stasis pod had to be an inside job.”

  “Hah! Did you see that, Royce?”

  Royce nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he said. “If that’s who I think it is, you can’t kill him.”

  “See what?”

  “Hang on, kid.” Royce grinned over his shoulder. “It’s about to get interesting.”

  “Interesting?” Blade echoed. “What the hell do you call what you’ve been doing?”

  Bhruic chortled and pulled Sundance into a screaming vertical climb. “Maybe a half-dozen pilots alive today could do what I’m about to do.”

  Royce tightened his g-locks. “I hate when you do this.”

  “Where does Bo rate?” Bhruic asked.

  “She’s the best of the best,” Royce said with a hint of pride in his voice. “She can probably do this better than you.”

  Bhruic muttered a Gallic curse under h
is breath and grinned.

  Sundance took several hits on the aft shields. When they reached the thin ribbon that marked the separation between atmosphere and vacuum of space, Bhruic kicked the ship over on itself into a sharp dive, coaxing everything he could from the sublight engines. They pulled more gees than Blade was used to. His vision narrowed to thin points of light before the inertial dampers kicked in. On the verge of losing consciousness, Blade forced himself to lift his head as Sundance screamed past the other ship, taking the pilot by surprise. The other ship was slow to respond.

  Sundance built up incredible momentum in a suicide dive for the planet’s surface. Blade’s vision cleared and he swallowed hard when warning klaxons went off and the control panel lit up with reports of failing systems.

  “Keep in mind this is a Tau-class long-range cruiser and not a fighter,” Royce said, his face red from straining not to lose consciousness. “She wasn’t built for the kind of punishment you’re heaping on her.”

  “She can take it,” Bhruic said.

  “He,” Blade corrected.

  Bhruic shook his head and exchanged a look with Royce. “Grounder.”

  The planet’s surface loomed closer. The other ship no longer hugged their tail. The distance between them grew.

  “Hey, Bhruic, you need to slow down,” Royce said, shifting in his seat.

  “Not yet.”

  Blade watched the distance to the surface click down. “You can pull up any time,” he said.

  “Not yet.”

  Royce’s fingers dug into his armrest. “The ship’s hull won’t be able to handle the stress. You need to cut your speed.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Warning…impact with planet’s surface in sixty seconds.”

  “Braking thrusters, Bhruic!”

  “Not yet.”

  Blade’s heart pounded in his chest. “Pull up!”

  “Not yet.”

  “Impact in forty-five seconds.”

  “You’re cutting it too close!”

  “Not yet.”

  “Holy Maker, Barron, pull up!” Blade shouted.

  “Not yet.”

  The planet’s surface filled the forward screens. Fear flooded Blade’s body with adrenaline. Chill waves shuddered through him. Frantically, he tapped the center of his right palm three times. A yellow light flashed twice under his skin.