Fire and Brimstone (Chaos of the Covenant Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  “Target disabled,” Iann said.

  “Nerd, you are insane,” Gant said.

  “I didn’t think that would work,” Erlan replied, a sudden sense of pride sneaking up on him. He had tried a similar tactic in the Construct once and had been rewarded with a quick death.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Gant said. “There are four more of the bastards, and we need to get back on course.”

  “Gant,” Ruby’s voice cut into the bridge. “I’ve got Queenie and the others on board. We’re headed for orbit. ETA one minute, fifteen seconds.”

  “Out of time already,” Gant said. “Get us there, kid.”

  “Aye, sir,” Erlan said, checking the HUD again.

  The other ships were getting close, but they were fortunate. The maneuvering had left the collection point closer to their side.

  The race was on.

  43

  The transporter brought them out on the top of one of the buildings, a flat surface high above the platform where they had started. Jequn was already there, and she lifted the device behind them before pointing to the sky. The Faust was out there, angling back with a pair of Shrikes behind her.

  “We’re only going to get one shot at this,” Abbey said. “Ruby, disable the hangar force field and bring her in.”

  “Roger.”

  “How are we going to get up there?” Bastion asked.

  “I’ll make the jump,” Abbey said. “I’ll drop the transporter, and you come through. No hesitation.”

  “Lieutenant,” Jequn said. “I should do it. I have more experience.”

  “Okay.”

  Abbey watched the Faust begin to drop, streaking toward them with Thraven’s fighters on her tail. The wing-mounted turrets were firing backward, keeping them from getting the easiest attack vector, but also sending their rounds slamming into the rooftop nearby. Jequn handed Abbey one of the transporter devices, and then moved to the lip of the building, ignoring the hail of fire peppering the side of the structure. She put her hands up, her head turning to track the ship. They would have five seconds at most to make the transfer.

  “Get ready,” Abbey said, activating her puck and tossing it on the rooftop. It wasn’t blinking blue yet.

  Dak and Bastion stood close to it, prepared to walk into the light. She watched Jequn start to run along the edge of the rooftop as the Faust swooped in.

  Her heart nearly stopped when the woman jumped, launching forward as the Faust reached them, at first appearing as though she would slam right into the side. She timed her leap perfectly, passing through the open hangar and into it, no doubt hitting hard as the opposing vectors brought the wall to her at speed.

  It didn’t matter. The puck lit up in blue. Dak and Bastion both jumped in. Abbey followed a moment later.

  She stepped out into the hangar, the technology of the device handling the inertia and keeping them steady within. Jequn hadn’t been as fortunate, and she lay in the rear of the space against the bulkhead.

  “Ruby, we’re in,” Abbey said. “Re-enable the shields and get us out of here.”

  “Roger. Welcome aboard.”

  “Lucifer, how’s your health?”

  “I feel better than new,” Bastion replied, putting a hand to the hole Airi’s sword had left in his clothes. “Revenge will be sweet, I’m sure.”

  “Keep us alive long enough to get it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Bastion sprinted out of the hangar, heading for the cockpit.

  “Nice ship,” Dak said, looking around. “A little small.”

  “We’ve got a bigger one waiting upstairs. It’s called the Brimstone. You might be familiar with it?”

  Dak huffed and then was nearly knocked over when the Faust banked hard to the left.

  Abbey kept her feet planted, holding on until they leveled out again.

  “Queenie, best to buckle in somewhere,” Bastion said. “It’s going to get a lot worse.”

  “Give me twenty seconds.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Abbey made her way to Jequn, leaning over her and picking her up. The woman gasped when she was lifted, her eyes opening, staring up at Abbey as she carried her away from the hangar.

  “Did we make it?” she asked.

  “Yes, thanks to you. Will you heal?”

  “I will, but not quickly. I expended a lot of strength to repair your friend.”

  “Thank you.”

  Abbey brought her to the ladder. “Can you climb?”

  Before she could answer, the Faust tilted again, dipping downward. Abbey grabbed the ladder, holding it tight to keep them from crashing into the wall again.

  “Lucifer,” she said.

  “Would you rather be dead?” Bastion replied. “Hold tight.”

  The Faust bucked a few times before rising, the nose pointing steeply upward. Abbey continued to hold the ladder with one hand, getting her arm around Jequn’s waist to keep them from being thrown back by the ascent.

  “Queenie,” Ruby said. “Gant and the Brimstone are decloaked and moving into intercept position. Gant reports that the Fire and three other ships are adjusting course to block.”

  “Fragging Thraven,” Abbey said. “Don’t worry about us. Do whatever you have to do to get there.”

  “I was planning on it,” Bastion said.

  The Faust continued its sharp climb, vibrating slightly as it hit the atmosphere, the gravity generators gradually easing her feet back to the floor. It was an odd adjustment from her angle, but she was grateful when she was able to stand again.

  She helped Jequn up the ladder, showing her where to sit before rushing to the cockpit. Bastion was at the controls, while Ruby was managing the rotating turrets, firing back at the Shrikes still tailing them. She could see the Brimstone ahead, already in position and taking fire from the incoming ships. Shields flared around the starship, while streaks of light crossed the distance to the attackers, trading torpedo for torpedo.

  Except the Brimstone was outnumbered four to one. There was no way she would survive for long.

  “She should have a few docking rings underneath,” Ruby said, her eyes closed while she studied the schematics Olus had provided. “We can clamp on there.”

  “What about the hangar?” Abbey asked.

  “She won’t fit,” Bastion replied, eyeballing it. “Not with these long-ass wings.”

  “Ring it is.”

  “Bringing her in,” Bastion said, increasing thrust and velocity.

  The view in the cockpit started to rotate as he put the Faust into a corkscrew spin. Tracers streamed past the ship, the Shrike pilots trying to keep pace with the maneuver. The Faust was getting ever-closer to the Brimstone, approaching at speed.

  “You need to slow down,” Abbey said.

  “I don’t tell you how to grow claws, don’t tell me how to fly.”

  Bastion’s expression was intense as they drew near the Brimstone, passing underneath in the opposite direction of the warship’s forward momentum.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Abbey said.

  “Relax. I’ve got this.”

  He hit the forward vectoring thrusters, sending the ship up and over, putting them back in the right direction and inverted compared to the bottom of the ship. Abbey was pushed back against the rear bank of electronics by the shift in force, feeling the pressure. Ruby kept the main cannons firing on the incoming Shrikes, hitting one of them while the other peeled away.

  “See, now we aren’t going too fast,” Bastion said, increasing velocity to get back beneath the Brimstone. A torpedo flashed to their left, threatening to hit nearby, only to be absorbed by the shields.

  “Gant,” Ruby said. “We need shields down on the hull for docking.”

  “Roger,” Gant said. “Give us a minute to find the switch.”

  “Are you kidding?” Bastion said.

  He toggled the HUD, switching the view to show him his alignment against the opposite clamp.

  “O
kay, they should be off. We can’t reactivate the shields down there while you’re connected.”

  “Roger,” Bastion said. “I already knew that.”

  Bastion guided the Faust forward, using the HUD to line things up. Flashes of light surrounded them, the shields taking the hits. But for how long?

  “Queenie, we’re getting blasted out here,” Gant said.

  “Are we ready for FTL?”

  “We would be, but there’s a group of warships in the way.”

  “The Fire?”

  “Of course.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Nearly out of torpedoes. Plasma is pretty much useless. We identified a weaker spot in their asses and took one of them out, but I don’t think they’re going to let us get back there to frag them again.”

  “They twisted the Gift to their needs,” Jequn said. “We were never able to overcome the monstrosities they created. The ships are only one kind.”

  “You’ll have to explain that to me later,” Abbey said. “Right now, we need to get around those bastards and get out of here. Do you know of anything we can use? Any specific tactics that worked out for you?”

  Jequn shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. We’ve been in hiding for a reason.”

  “Why the hell did you come out now?” Bastion asked.

  “Because we had to. It isn’t by choice.”

  Bastion adjusted the yoke, maneuvering the Faust into position. He hit a switch, and Abbey could hear the docking motor humming. The ship jerked slightly as the clamps connected, anchoring them to the underside of the Brimstone.

  “Nerd,” Abbey said. “Can you get us past those ships?”

  “I’m trying, ma’am,” Erlan said.

  “I’m holding my breath here,” Abbey said. “Don’t make this the last one I take.”

  “Uh. Aye, ma’am.”

  “Get it up on sensors if you can,” Abbey said, pointing to the inverted HUD. Their view was limited hanging from the warship’s belly.

  Bastion reached up, toggling controls to get the sensor view loaded. They could see the Faust inlaid on the larger icon of the Brimstone, with three other ships arranged in their path.

  “I don’t like the looks of that,” Bastion said.

  “Have a little faith,” Abbey said.

  “Our current pilot has less experience flying than our pleasure synth.”

  “I have the equivalent of four thousand hours in my memory stores,” Ruby said.

  “Vertical or horizontal?” Bastion said.

  The Brimstone shook violently, and they shook with it, nearly getting knocked over.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have connected,” Bastion said.

  “We all make it, or we all die,” Abbey said.

  “I’m putting my bets on die.”

  “You’re always such a positive, cheerful individual.”

  “I do my best.”

  Abbey cringed when the Brimstone shook again. They were closing on the ships, and it was clear their exit point was in the center.

  “Gant,” Abbey said. “What the frag?”

  “Shields are failing, Queenie,” Gant said. “We’re taking hits. Armor is absorbing a lot of it, but it won’t last. Nerd’s doing the best he can. Pretty damn good, all things considered.”

  “How long to FTL?”

  “Ten seconds.”

  Abbey stared at the HUD as if she could will the position of the ships to change. The Fire was shifting in front of them, adjusting course to intercept, to block the egress. The Brimstone changed direction to match, trying to slip beneath.

  “We aren’t going to make it,” Jequn said.

  “Yes, we are,” Abbey replied. “I didn’t do all of this to die out of the fight. Bastion, give me full thrusters.”

  “What?” Bastion said. “Why? Oh.” He smiled, pushing the throttle all the way open, and then grabbing the yoke. He shoved it forward, getting vectoring thrusters angling to help turn the Brimstone away from the Fire. “I think it’s working.”

  The Fire was so close the icons were nearly touching, the Brimstone barely scraping by. Abbey looked up and out the viewport. The entire field was filled with debris and derelict Outworld ships, the remains of Anvil’s orbital garrison.

  It was gone. All gone. The planet was going to fall to Thraven, and they had no choice but to run.

  But run where?

  “We’re clear,” Bastion shouted. “Wooooo.”

  Abbey turned her head. She could see Thraven’s warships on their flank, a pair of torpedoes angling in.

  “Initiating FTL,” Erlan announced.

  The starfield shifted, filling almost instantly with the nebulous vapors of disterium gas. The torpedoes vanished into the field, rocking the Brimstone with one last heavy blow. If that one didn’t destroy them, they would make it out.

  Abbey froze, staring at the universe ahead.

  Space bent around them.

  Then they were free.

  44

  The crew of the Fire’s bridge came to attention as Gloritant Thraven entered. He had an interesting look on his face, one that managed to meld anger, frustration, satisfaction, and amusement into one package.

  His surviving Immolent entered behind him, flanked by a newcomer to the bridge, and to the Fire. A woman, but not the woman he had been after.

  “Agitant Sol,” Thraven said. “What is your report?”

  Sol turned to face him, raising his hand in salute. “Gloritant. We tracked the Brimstone the moment she decloaked, trailing her toward the surface of the planet. At the same time, we began receiving reports from our Shrike pilots that a single Outworld ship had broken away from the spaceport cordon and was en route. Trajectory models suggested the two events were unrelated, but the Brimstone and the Outworld ship both made tight vector adjustments near the tail of their maneuvers to bring themselves in line. Your Eminence, we struck the Brimstone with six torpedoes and enough plasma fire to destroy an entire city. We believe she sustained heavy damage, but it wasn’t enough. The ships were able to make their rendezvous and maneuver around our fleet and into FTL.”

  A silence fell over the bridge when the Agitant finished. Thraven didn’t react. He stared out of the viewport into space.

  “Your Eminence?” Sol said after a minute. “Are you well, Gloritant?”

  Thraven’s head turned slowly. He barely flicked his finger, and Sol fell over, dead.

  “Am I well?” Thraven said softly.

  He was considering it. Accounting for all of the sides. He had lost Abigail Cage. She had rebuked him. Even in the face of the loss of her mind and all that she was, she had denied him. He hated being refused. He also respected it. She had stood up to him when so many had not. It was an endearing trait in its own way. One that he could have looked back on fondly had he been given the chance to destroy her.

  But he hadn’t.

  The Ophanim had intervened. The Watchers. The last of the followers. Phanuel himself had come to counter him, to challenge him, to save the life of the woman who had quickly grown from a needle under his foot to a powerful thorn in his side. He had sacrificed his life so that she could escape. And he had killed one of his Immolent.

  Still, killing Phanuel had been a pleasure. An enjoyment he hadn’t felt in years. Long had he desired to remove the head of a Seraphim once more, and he knew that day would come because the Father had promised it. The day was here, and it was good.

  Abigail Cage had escaped. And that wasn’t good. Not at all. The Ophanim clearly saw enough in her that they had given up their most experienced warrior for her. Why? Her control of the Gift was impressive, but she had refused to take the other half. She would be altered, and in that alteration become useless to them. Worthless. Did they think she could help them before that happened?

  Did they think she could defeat him?

  Never. He would see to it that she couldn’t. Wherever she went, he would find her. He would hunt her. He would send out his Children. He would send out his Ev
olents. Perhaps he would even send out an Immolent. He’d like to see Cage deal with that. As for himself, he couldn’t put any more of his personal energy into her. He had a harvest to plan. A mission to fulfill. He had taken a risk with the Brimstone, and he had ultimately come out ahead. Phanuel’s death was worth more than Cage’s life. So was Anvil and the crops he would reap here. So was the Fire, and all of the ships being integrated.

  Right now he would focus on securing the planet and starting the process of rounding up the healthiest of the surviving soldiers to transfer back to Kell to be integrated into the systems of the waiting ships. They would need more than he had originally planned. He had taken one risk. He wasn’t taking any more.

  “Honorant Piselle,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, Gloritant?” Piselle replied.

  “Contact the other commanders. Tell them to prepare to accept cargo. I want it delivered back to Kell as quickly as possible. Make sure they, as well as you, understand you have failed me in the simple task of destroying a single starship when you outnumbered it five to one. It is a failure that will not be permitted to happen again. A failure that I am only allowing now because I don’t have the time or energy to replace you at the moment. A failure that has cost Agitant Sol his life on your behalf. I will not accept such failure again. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Gloritant,” Piselle replied, clearly shaken.

  “Gloritant Thraven?”

  Thraven shifted his eyes until they landed on the woman who arrived with him. She was a poor excuse of a replacement for Cage, and while she had tasted the Blood of Life and survived, he could tell her potential was weak in comparison. Even so, she would make a fair Evolent given enough time.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” she said. “I took a big risk joining you. You see, when we were released from Hell, Captain Mann had something injected into our heads, to kill us if we tried to run. I thought with your power; you would be able to remove it or disarm it or something before Queenie had a chance to trigger it.”