by K A Carter
S’tiri looked around at the soldiers left, most of them young in the face, none of them highborn. At that moment, he thought about home. About those who went to try and take it back. And the possibility of them failing wasn’t an option. Too many lives were at stake. It was the same case for himself. He spoke again. “Pyx co - “
“Pyx here,” said the voice on the other end. She was hissing in a distraught manner almost grunting.
“What is your status? We need this door open now,” S’tiri yelled.
“Crawling toward the controls now. Everyone else is gone. Small meatsacks came from the opposite end of the center by an auxiliary door. We weren’t ready,” her voice shuttered with pain incrementally. She was crawling and it hurt enough that she could barely explain what happened. “Humans. Actual humans. Gaultians had never made contact with such a fowl species and to be aligned with the Draul proves it right.”
“I need you to hurry Pyx.”
Pyx grunted loudly with a subtle hiss. “I am routing into the controls. The door locks from the inside but I can get it to open,” she started. “Detecting multiple bodies inside.”
“Team on me,” S’tiri said.
The door lock mechanism shuffled and made a beep noise.
“It’s ready,” Pyx said. “Damn.”
“Pyx?”
“May the Arju goddess be with you,” An explosion muffled the com for moment before the link severed completely. Whatever it was, Pyx was gone. There was only one thing left to do and it meant putting everything on the line. Without the alternative force to attack from the other side, it meant that this would be a lot harder than it could’ve.
S’tiri approached the door and tightened his grip on his sword. Z’oni and everyone else joined him. The sounds of thermal cell magazines clicking and pulse rifles powering up. Z’oni looked down at her hand cannon. Though she had used it sparingly. There was only one shot left. She placed it in a holster and pulled out a second slick blade and tucked them under her wrists and nodded at S’tiri.
This was it, this was the last fight.
Chapter 42: Jericho
It almost was as though they hadn’t moved. The transition from one part of galaxy to another was like a dive into still, transparent water. Freya took the ship in through and as the envelope encased the Icarus, a tunnel pushed them forward. Nightly colored with pulsating light that if stared directly into temporarily blinded.
When the wormhole opened at the end, two red lit sparkles were visible enough in the distance to see the excess light from its vibrant hue. A duel star system was the home to whatever sort of planet the Orcus funded project kept to. The planet was close in vision. A huge desolate world that reminded Jericho of pictures he’d seen of Mars in its older states. Before the wealthiest of colonists flooded money into making it a new Earth. Only it duller. There was not much to the planet aside from highly radioactive readings in certain regions and an unusual amount of seismic activity.
A winged ship had come to escort the Icarus down to the surface, sending docking codes and a primary authorization link for any repairs that were required.
In the descent, the cockpit cameras displayed a wide overview of the planet. Adjacent was a wave that almost glistened like the stars but more frequent. The group of sparkles closer together and almost spanning across the full side, an insurmountable length. Certain parts of the group broke a way and darted further up the line and some back. The instance clicking into Jericho’s mind of what it was.
An armada spanning across the visible darkness. As much as Jericho could see. He didn’t mention it to anyone. Rain was in the cockpit along with him and Freya, and asking too many questions didn’t warrant trustworthiness in such a foreign land.
Whatever the reason was, an armada waited in this part of space. Jericho would have rather to figure it out as soon as he got far away from Orcus. Freya angled herself to look up at Jericho with worrisome eyes and a look that clearly stated she didn’t like what was about to happen.
Orcus escorted the ship onto a landing pad in the far paved plains of the base. There were ships there, none of which were the same as the Icarus, though all looked as menacing. Further toward the center of the facility was a domed extension that most of the other corridors connected to. An oddly shaped rubble sat behind the dome encased in a wide glass shell. It looked impenetrable and solid built. The ruins inside gave off a blue glow that pulsated in between the small pillars of it. Jericho only caught a glimpse of it as they were all escorted to the opposite end of the landing zone where a loading dock took up space in between two small corvette ships. Likely fighters grounded for repair.
Jericho slowed down and dropped behind the group where Scud was. His scruffy friend gazing away with cautious eyes as the group strayed further away from where the Icarus had landed.
“This is bad Cap,” Scud said. “Orcus is up to something bad.”
Jericho nodded and whispered to him “I don’t think they are planning on letting us go. If so, I want you to make sure Anda and Araime get off this rock.”
“Cap’n – “
“Just make sure,” Jericho’s voice was low; almost completely quiet.
A wide door sat at the intersecting wall. It was a pressure door by the brandings of it. It cycled clearing the air on the other side. The holographic dial blinking red, spinning while it processed. As soon as it finished it clicked green and waited for someone to press it. Rain approached it.
Jericho ambled back and tapped on her shoulder. “Are we good to go?” he asked.
Rain grinned and said “Just have to check in with my superior. All should be green.”
In Jericho’s experience, the only thing that meant was things weren’t about to go his way. “Rain, we aren’t going to have a problem, are we?” Jericho asked, sternly. He tried to hide the action of swaying his hand over his blaster.
As the door opened, on the other side of it was a group of people, one of them a Glossy skinned woman with her hair angled to one side. Her eyes almost were hollow as though she weren’t really staring at them. Jericho recognized the person immediately but it wasn’t her the way he remembered. It was Olenna Vacura. Director of Operations for Orcus, Olenna Vacura. He couldn’t forget the face having grown up on Titan. Watching the news outlets on public billboards that were projected onto buildings. Over his younger years he had watched her age over the decades. But the person in front of him was only an hollow shell of her. Most likely one of her many doubles that roamed the solar system and likely beyond, doing her bidding.
She approached in a mechanical manner. The group of armed employees behind her scattering to figure out what just happened.
“Please join me in my office,” it said.
The facility was state of the art. It’s hallways a reminder to Jericho of who he was with. A corporation with unlimited resources and dangerous friends.
With each door they passed. He grew more worried about his chances of making it out. Still, at the very least, the crew still had their weapons on hand. Whatever amount of good it would do. He didn’t want to pry into his deeper thoughts, all of them coming close to the idea of meeting their end right then and there.
The bot’s office was unnecessarily lifelike. It resembled to a room someone human would need. A row of appliances and art. It was wide and had no chairs. That being the most unusual of the things Jericho noticed.
The bot sat down, at the only desk seat there was. Nothing but an integrated charging port that stuck out in the form of small extendable node that plugged into the tip of her index finger.
Rain stopped in front of her and stood to the side. “Director, this is Jericho and his crew. He’s the reason we’re here.”
What came from Vacura was indeed her voice only more artificial. “You’ve arrived just in time to watch this facility decommission.”
“What’s happening?” Jericho asked.
Vacura turned to them. the artificial eyes oscillating on each person. It stopped at Keon and went back
to Jericho. “You’re the crew of the Icarus? The stolen ship.”
He paused for a moment. “It’s not stolen, it’s our ship.”
“Of course. It won’t matter much longer.”
Rain appeared agitated. She looked around at the room. Her group of marines were silent with raised eyebrows.
“It would appear you made landfall at the worst time. Enemies in the Federation and their new allies managed to find this facility and are converging on it as we speak.”
“Should we refit?” Rain responded.
“No,” the charging port receded into its spot. “What has needed to be done, will not require the defense of this position any longer. As of now you are all relieved of duty.
“Director, what are you talking about?” Rain said, her brows crinkled. “What about the employees of this facility?”
A rumble grew. Its presence almost periodic. A fight ensuing in the corridors and facility areas. All of it only growing in its frequency. Bombs and whatever else was being used to infiltrate.
The Vacura droid was motionless. “This facility is compromised. The primary goal of our partners will be executed. We have been ordered to simply… by time.”
“You’ll let all of us die?” Rain flexed her fist and grabbed at a blaster in Anda’s holster. She was quicker than Jericho would have anticipated. Anda reacted in a delayed fashion. Stepping backward as an afterthought.
Rain clicked off the sidewinder protocol of the blaster. An action Jericho thought surprising given the origin of the weapon. She was born in the Brink; he was only just now realizing.
“What about the people of this facility, Director?” Rain asked again, aiming down the blaster at the artificial representation of Vacura.
“It is a marginal loss. Your lives will set the foundation for a future void of capital rule.”
Rain didn’t lower the blaster. She inched closer. Jericho swayed his hand over his gun but didn’t grab it. If someone in the room was about to be shot. It wouldn’t be any of his crew. And probably not Rain. Not unless it was by his hands.
Jericho could see her hands shaking. It was almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the long barrel.
Rain shot the Vacura double right through the left eye. It fell backward, knocking odd cylindrical nodes off of the edge of the desk. Some gasped. Jericho remained unflinching at the act. He saw it coming. A thick blue goo leaked from the gunshot wound.
“I guess that settles that,” Anda spoke aloud.
Rain turned and looked at them, the gun still raised. “I need off of this planet and the only way that’ll happen is with your ship.”
Jericho raised his hands a bit. “We’ve saved your life once, we don’t mind doing it again. Just put the gun down.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, moving toward the door slowly. “You have no reason to help me unless this gun is pointed at you.”
“Listen,” Jericho started.
In his pause, Keon lunged at her from aside Anda. Rain was quick but not quick enough to adjust to kill. She fired at him, grazing his right arm. He fell back letting out a shriek. Morris had taken the time to pull out his sidearm and put two shots into her chest. The blasts left small craters with a smoke coming from them. She fell to her knees then over legs. Her eyes seeming lifeless before she hit the ground.
“What now?” Scud asked. “We don’t even know what kind of shape the hangar is in.”
Anda approached the flat body to grab her pistol. She clicked at a few of the mods. Whichever ones they were, Jericho couldn’t tell from the distance. He pulled out his slowly without looking, walking toward the doors. The dual doors opening simultaneously showing an empty corridor that had once been populated with guards and unnoticed employees.
“This way back to the ship.”
∆∆∆
Small fighters took off out of the bay doors only to get shot down on the surface. Three ships slowed their descent as the doors attempted to close but were too slow to stop them. The ships were glossy grey with violet ribbon like markings on every side. By comparison they were only half the size of the Icarus.
Despite the chaos that only proceeded to become louder, there was a sullen silence among them.
Chapter 43: Nario
Nario was sweating profusely. To the point he hadn’t since a cadet during military training drills out in the Venusian desert. Even with training for harsh environments, the density of frightening thoughts of not making it out alive hindered his ability to keep his body calm.
He kept staring at the panel, waiting for the ships to drop out over him and blow him to bits. Moranthians, Elassi; it could have been either one and by now, it was apparent that holding off the remaining ships would result in both his and everyone elses death.
Nario tapped at the screen and brought up the views of Rowland’s ships. Some of them slowly disintegrating. Others firing their PDC’s in every direction taking out what they could.
“Incoming,” Halle said.
Green dots popped up on the display next to Nario. Almost immediately panning out and showing hundreds of smaller ships flurrying around them.
“Sir, hail incoming.”
“Patch it,” Nario was ready. He figured it was too late to pull back and though it didn’t seem like a fight he could win, he didn’t mind trying to take out as many as he could. Whoever was on the line was only prolonging the inevitable with wanting to see who they were about to kill.
“It unusual for someone to go into battle without their allies,” said the voice.
No visual. Nario didn’t want them to see him sweating, clenching at his knee with nubby fingers like the metallic implants were aching. “Well, I figured you were dead, or at least about to be.”
“Would it be in my character to not avoid death?”
Lanky bastard.
“Sorry to pull you away from the, you know, your system being attacked and all.”
Thoram’s voice was dry and strained, almost tired. “This seemed quite prudent. I have enough ships to create a standing force. What are our grounding plans?”
“None,” Nario responded. “We already have allies on the ground.”
“Can you assure their success.”
“As much as I can my survival out of this.”
Thoram’s throat curdled, like liquid trapped in the long neck of his, clinging to the center. “Any price for my people, is one I will always pay.”
As poetic as it sounded. Nario could tell he had already seen the worst of his wounds. The likelihood of either of them living to laugh about this had slimmed the moment the both of them heard of Thalus.
A signal came in and casted a voice in between them. “Down to the last couple of ships it would appear, how about we hightail it outta here?” Rowland sounded unmoved despite the losses. Something told Nario she was using it as sport. Now, as things inched closer to her, it was time to cut her losses and get back to familiar ground.
“Can’t do that,” Nario said. The ship rumbled, still taking its hits.
“Me either, without your help,”
Nario paused, “Thoram, can you and the bulk of your ships aid Rowland?”
“Very well,”
The audio clicked off and all that remained was the litter of background rumbles and the faint but clear breathing of Rowland. It wasn’t fear; not from what Nario could tell.
“Rowland how much juice do you have left in that cannon? We need to blow a nice chunk
out before we have any chance to get out of here.”
“Enough I’d say,” she muttered. “Let’s make it quick.”
Her feed cut out. As soon as it did, Nario snapped back to the what he was seeing. A field of view littered with debris and streams of cannon fire.
“Shields are at 1%,” he heard from behind him.
“We have to pull back,” a voice shouted through the com.
Nario tried to gather his thoughts into one specific place; develop a plan in the matter of seconds that he had
.
Without a notice he could feel, the ship shift. It was gentle. A millisecond between the dampeners compensating for the maneuver.
“Halle, what’s going on?” Nario asked with a shaky voice.
“Falling back, if we take another hit, we’re done. We’re not a warship, Captain.”
She was right. Any good he was able to do from his position was fleeting. He hadn’t gotten anything from those who were planetside. There were no guarantees those that went down hadn’t died already. One thing was for certain, the amount of ships left was dwindling, still fighting.
Nario tapped at the pad next to him, “Thoram, Rowland, come in.”
Rowland responded almost instantly. “Vosburgh is pulling back, don’t waste your time. You still owe me.”
Nario couldn’t keep his fist from clenching and banging itself against his knee. He stood up and wiped away at his upper lip. Nothing but facial hair reacted.
“Thoram,” he said, opening another channel. “Begin a retreat.”
“Are you sure Ambassador?”
“We have no choice.”
“Very well.”
The visual showed the last of the ships firing off; shooting back as each began to warp out.
Elongated ships with sharp edges. The colors of them indistinguishable on the battle field.
Nario could feel the pulse pick up as the grainy pieces of the veil of ships converged toward him. In one second, warp was initiated and those grains disappeared into black, being replaced with a blue light.
He sat back down, trying to conceal his anxiousness. The likelihood his problems, or more so that of the civilizations, being solved were slim. His only option was to get back to Federal space. Any promises that had been made before then, would only be more important now.
If things didn’t succeed on Sarjana, the only chance anyone had was to mobilize.
That meant going before the federal war council. That had already been tried. All it did was produce lackluster results and a bigger workload.
Before he could think of trying to convince the CPF to believe him, Nario had to come to terms with the fact that he was a criminal now. Going back to federal space included the offshoot chance of being thrown in a brig, his ship confiscated, and most definitely a court martial.