by M. R. Forbes
Reza's face paled. "Yes, sir."
"Colonel, see if you can get us in close to that one over there. Alan's idea isn't perfect, but it's the best we've got. We'll try to bounce around it and hope we can slow their attack. Mr. Mokri, head down to engineering. When things get bad, I intend to spike the shields, and I need you to do your best to keep the modulators from exploding."
"Uh. Yes, sir."
Reza stood and ran from the room, heading for the inner bowels of the ship.
"When things get bad?" General Cave said. "I think we're already there, Teddy."
"Heh. You ain't seen nothing yet."
"You're putting a lot of faith in your son."
"I gotta put it somewhere, Alan. He'll come through. I know he will."
FIFTY-FIVE
"THERE SHE GOES," GABRIEL said, pointing through the small viewport of the excavator.
Donovan could feel the pressure from above, the Magellan's anti-gravity systems pushing down on the planet and on them. He could hear the harsh hissing of the thrusters, and he opened his mouth to pop his ears one more time.
He looked forward through the viewport, at the line of enemy targets ahead. They had abandoned the ground forces as the starship had moved in position over them, sending everything they had up into the belly of the ship and causing black splotches to spread across the painted hull, splotches that seemed to be absorbing at least a portion of the damage the Dread were inflicting.
Their attacks were countered by the plasma cannon mounted to the bottom of the ship. They slammed into the Dread mechs, cutting them down one by one in a fight that seemed less than fair. The Domo'dahm had made a huge mistake by sending all of his fortresses out to attack General St. Martin and leaving the Magellan and the space forces free to seize control of the ground battle.
They had already driven through the city, where the soldiers in the gray uniforms were making short work of the enemy clones, and even the few pur'dahm he had spotted in their battle armor. The Dread warriors were fast and strong, but the soldiers had them outnumbered, and their aim was steady and true, so much more so than a good portion of the rebels. These were people who had spent their lives preparing for war, not focusing on survival from one day to the next. All they had ever needed was an opportunity and a weapon that could hurt the enemy, and now they had both.
"Kroeger, we're almost at your position," Donovan said. "What have you got for us?"
"The remnants of a dozen units," Kroeger replied. "Including part of General Parker's company. The General's dead."
Donovan winced at the news. No wonder he hadn't been able to raise him on the comm. "We're almost at your position. Do we have an opening?"
"You will in a minute, Colonel. That ship is cutting through them assholes like they're made of paper."
"Donovan, switch to channel seventy-two," Gabriel said from the driver's seat.
Donovan turned the dial, watching the numbers climb. He stopped at seventy-two.
"Do you want to broadcast?" he asked.
Gabriel nodded, and he pressed the transmit button down.
"Alpha Actual, this is Major St. Martin. Colonel Graham, can you hear me?"
"Major, this is Alpha Actual. I hear you. Was that you in the excavator?"
"Yes, sir. Radio the others, switch to channel-" Gabriel paused.
"Twenty-six," Donovan said for him.
"Channel twenty-six. We're preparing to move on the capital."
"Roger. Switching now."
Donovan moved the dial back to its original channel.
"This is Alpha Actual, Colonel James Graham of the Earth Alliance."
"We hear you, Colonel," Donovan said. "What's your position?"
"We're about halfway through the city. It's getting harder to find targets out here."
"Good. How quickly can you reach the western side of the city?"
"Where the fortress is parked? I can get a battalion there in ten minutes."
"Too slow," Gabriel said. "He'll have to bring up the rear."
"Roger, Colonel. Major St. Martin suggests you bring up the rear. We're heading for the ship."
"What's the hurry, Gabriel?" Colonel Graham replied.
"We may be winning down here right now, but once the Ishur is destroyed those ships will be coming back. When they do, you can bet they'll hit both the Magellan and this city from space. We have to stop the Ishur from being destroyed."
"How are we going to do that from down here?"
"My father had a plan."
"He's playing it close to the chest, then. He didn't tell me anything about it."
"No, sir."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"No, sir."
Donovan reached out to steady himself as the excavator rounded a corner, slamming into a pile of rubble and pushing it out of the way. He could see the Dread capital rising up directly ahead of them, a kilometer away and backed by deep craters where the other domo'shah had been resting. The line of mechs and tanks had taken a pounding from the Magellan, and there was a clear opening between them.
"Kroeger," Donovan said. "Get your people on the move. Double-time. We're coming in."
"Yes, sir," Kroeger replied.
The soldiers poured out of every dark crack and crevice ahead of them, nearly two hundred people strong. They ran toward the break in the defenses while the excavator gained from behind.
The Magellan loomed above them, firing down at the defenses and up at the circling Dread starfighters. There was more activity from the domo'shah now, a mass of airborne reinforcements bursting from the top of it as the Domo'dahm decided to up the ante.
"Gabriel," Donovan said, pointing toward the new targets.
"I see them," he replied. "We have to keep moving."
The pilot of the Magellan seemed to see them too, because the ship began shifting forward, moving over the ground forces as they raced across the broken terrain toward the capital. Plasma bolts tore into the top of the ship, and Donovan could hear the return fire and the explosions when the Magellan's cannons hit the gi'shah.
They kept going, the excavator overtaking the soldiers. Donovan recognized Kroeger as they moved up on him, and the former jackal smiled at the sight of the machine, slowing down and leaping onto it as it passed. A few of the others saw his maneuver and did the same, climbing onto the vehicle as it churned toward the Dread ship.
They covered half a kilometer, bringing the capital so close it became a black wall in front of them and bringing the Magellan within the angle of the secondary batteries. They began firing, heavy plasma heating the air above them and slamming the starship with volley after volley. Donovan could hear loud pops and cracks above them, and he knew the ship was taking a beating, risking itself to protect them as they ran.
A shift in the pressure from above told him when the Magellan had suffered one critical strike too many. He looked at Gabriel, whose face was tight with concern. He leaned up and over the control yoke, trying to get a look at the Magellan, shaking his head.
"She's going to crash," he said, his voice cracking. "Damn it."
They couldn't see it happen from their protective cocoon, but they heard it a minute later and felt it when the ground shuddered beneath the impact. Had the pilot managed to avoid hitting any of their own? The ship was so big; it seemed impossible.
Plasma bolts began to land around them from all sides, the gi'shah from the air joining the gur'shah and gel'shah on the ground. Donovan heard a scream from outside as someone was hit, and he felt the heat of the plasma burning into the armor above them. Maybe they weren't doing as well as he had thought.
He shifted his position to see through the small viewport, surprised to find that they were nearly on top of the fortress and racing toward a cavernous opening ahead. Gabriel didn't seem concerned that there were only the three of them and the few other soldiers who had managed to cling to the excavator to wage their war inside the ship. He was focused on getting there. And then what? He said he had
a plan of some kind that involved him and Ehri.
Whatever it was, he hoped it was good.
FIFTY-SIX
THE EXCAVATOR SLIPPED INTO the open mouth of the domo'shah's hangar, still moving at a good clip toward the rear wall. The massive bay had already been emptied of mechs and starfighters, but a handful of transports and a pair of larger ek'shah were still organized around them, along with a number of clone soldiers.
They traded rifle fire with the rebels who had survived their entrance clinging to the top and sides of the excavator, flashes of blue reaching back and forth across the space. Gabriel had a vague idea of where he wanted to go, and where it would be if this ship was at all similar to the Ishur, but he turned his head toward Ehri regardless.
"The keepers," he said. "Do you know the quickest way to reach them."
"The keepers?" she asked. "What do you want with them?"
"Reinforcements," he said, nearing the far wall.
"I'm not sure I understand," Ehri said.
"You will. Quickest way?"
"I will lead you."
Gabriel hit the brakes, bringing the excavator to a stop. Ehri was the first out of the hatch, with Donovan close behind. Gabriel joined them a moment later, surprised to find that most of the enemy soldiers had already been dealt with.
"Sergeant Kroeger," Donovan said to an older man who was standing beside the hatch, shooting at anything that moved.
"Colonel," Kroeger replied. "Who's the new guy?"
"Major Gabriel St. Martin," Donovan replied.
Kroeger smiled. "You're St. Martin? It's a pleasure."
"We don't have any time to waste," Gabriel said.
He tried to ignore the burn marks, craters, and blood while taking stock of their forces. Eight soldiers in total, including himself.
"Ehri, lead the way."
She jumped down from the vehicle and the others followed. They cleared the excavator only seconds before a large plasma bolt slammed into the back of it, pushing it forward and into the wall. A second bolt hit it, and then a third. A Dread mech reached the edge of the hangar, shifting to target them.
"In here," Ehri said, opening a hatch ahead of them.
They ducked inside, making it to safety only moments before an unphased plasma bolt struck harmlessly against the lek'shah.
"This way."
Ehri guided them through the corridor, pausing at each intersection.
"I can't believe we made it," Kroeger said quietly. "I should have been dead a dozen times already."
"You and me, both," Donovan said.
"In here," Ehri said, bringing them into one of the domo'shah's many smaller maintenance passages.
"You're familiar with the keepers?" Gabriel asked her.
"Yes. I used to talk to them all the time. They have always abhorred violence, and reject what the Domo'dahms have done."
"Just like you."
Ehri looked back at him, smiling sadly. "Like Juliet St. Martin. I understand that I am not her, Gabriel."
"You do?"
"Yes. I am no peacemaker. I was trained to fight. I was modified to fight. But I do agree with your mother. The path of the pur'dahm is a path to an end to both humans and bek'hai. This way."
They hurried through the rear passages until they reached a dead end. Ehri put her hand on the wall, and a hidden hatch opened, bringing them out right beside a transport beam.
"Most drumhr do not know how to reach the keepers," she said. "They don't know the secret ways. Your mother spent years exploring this ship. She knew them all, and so do I."
They hurried toward the transport beam. A shout at the end of the corridor alerted them that they had been spotted only seconds before the bek'hai at the end of the hallway started shooting, cutting down two of their number before they could react.
It was Ehri who ended the threat, moving with a speed that Gabriel had only seen from Tea'va. She lunged out to the front of the group, shooting at the pur'dahm while moving toward him, rolling to the side, leaping from the side of the wall, and ultimately coming down only a meter away, ready to strike him with the rifle.
She didn't need to. He fell backward, dead.
She scanned the corridor, and then rushed back to them.
"There are two squads of clones headed this way. We must hurry. Take the beam to the bottom."
Gabriel was the first in, lowering his hands and traveling in the beam, stepping out into a nearly identical corridor. Ehri came through a moment later and led them into another hidden passage. They ran along it for four hundred meters or so, and then came out into yet another hallway. This one was dim and damp, and the familiar, biting smell of the legri'shah greeted his eyes.
Ehri continued ahead, leading them closer and closer to the creatures. Finally, they reached a round room that was nearly identical to the one on the Ishur. Nine of the keepers were resting there, sitting on the floor, their cloaks hiding their faces. They stirred at the rebels' approach, shifting and looking at them.
"My name is Gabriel St. Martin," Gabriel said. "I carry a message from It'kek." He paused, taking a deep breath. The entire future of both races hinged on what the keeper had told him to say.
"The time has come," Ehri said before he had the chance to. "The walls are crumbling, the cycle completing, the rebellion at hand. Fight, my brothers. Fight, this one time, for the future of our people, the future of the bek'hai. Fight for justice and equality, for the sake of all things that deserve to live. Fight for the legri'shah, but more importantly, let the legri'shah fight for themselves."
Gabriel looked at Ehri, who seemed as surprised as he was at the words. They both turned their attention to the keepers, who were all coming to their feet. One of them lowered his hood, revealing his reptilian face, the splicing of the original bek'hai with the creatures that saved them. The creatures they repaid by slaughtering and imprisoning, just as they had with humankind.
"The keepers of the Ishur are free," Gabriel said. "And the legri'shah will be released as soon as it returns to Earth. But they won't make it without your help."
The keeper continued staring at him. Then he nodded.
All nine of the keepers left the room, headed down separate corridors.
"Well, that was interesting," Kroeger said.
Gabriel looked at the soldier. For a few seconds, nobody moved. Then a loud roar burst from the tunnels, followed by nearly a dozen more.
"I think it's about to get a lot more interesting," Donovan said.
FIFTY-SEVEN
"HULL BREACH ON DECKS eleven to twenty," General Cave said, his attention split between two tablets. "Inner hatches are sealing, but we lost a little more atmosphere."
Theodore looked to the right of the Ishur, to where small bits of debris were drifting from the latest in a series of wounds inflicted by the Dread fortresses.
"We're running out of time, son," he said under his breath.
They had done their best to stay close to the fortresses, to position themselves away from the main line of domo'shah and present as small a profile as possible. They were still trading smaller battery fire with the enemy ship alongside them, beating at each other with little effect, save for a few lost guns. It had given them a few minutes more than Reza's best projections, but even those few minutes were spent.
Theodore could barely believe the Ishur was still functional. If he could look at the fortress from the enemy's perspective, he would have seen gash after gash, deep holes, torn fins, and a battered warship that had no right to still have power or air.
"They're firing again," Cave said.
O'Dea had replaced Abdullah at the main DSS, giving him a rest from the stress of trying to defend the ship on his own. For a logistics officer, she was a fine shield controller, and she slid her hand deftly across the projection, bringing the power to the proper place on the hull and causing it to phase and pull in a whorl of darkspace. The first enemy plasma bolt struck it. She whipped her hand over, moving the system, cursing as she only
caught part of the second beam. The Ishur shook one more time.
"One of the oxygenation modules just went offline," General Cave reported.
"Open a channel to engineering," he said. It was time.
"Done," Cave replied.
"Mr. Mokri, shift all of the power to the modulators. Full shields."
"We'll only have a few minutes like this, sir."
"I'm aware of that, Mr. Mokri. We only have one more shot in us if we don't."
"Yes, sir. It will take me a minute to adjust the settings."
"Then stop talking and get to it, son."
"Yes, sir."
Theodore looked out the viewport again. He could see four of the Dread fortresses to his left, floating almost stationary in space, firing their plasma cannons as soon as they were charged. He looked further out, to where the starfighter dogfights had shifted. He knew why Lieutenant Bale was staying out there, but he didn't know why the Dread were still bothering with them, especially when that side of the fight was still going in the rebel's favor. They could pack it in, head home, and wait for the bigger ships to finish the Ishur off. The glory of the fight, he supposed.
"Theodore, I'm receiving a transmission," General Cave said, his voice surprised. "If I'm reading this thing right, it's coming from Earth."
"Gabriel?" Theodore said. He hadn't given up hope, but the thought of it boosted it to the next level.
"It doesn't look like it." General Cave was staring at the tablet. "Even the translation is gibberish to me."
The Ishur shook again. The projections and terminals on the bridge all flashed and flickered, and something internal to the ship stopped making noise. Everything returned to normal a moment later.
"Sir," Reza said over the comm. "One of the reactors just went offline. We won't have enough power to hold the shields for long, even if the modulators are stable."
"Damn it," Theodore said. "Alan, pass the transmission to Mr. Mokri. Mr. Mokri, we just received this from Earth, and we have no idea what it is. Can you read it?"