The Coming Storm_A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  The Seeker headed the charge, flying directly for The Ghost. Jeryl wanted to end this. He wanted to put a stop to Kaine and the Syndicate, and he knew The Seeker was capable of taking down The Ghost.

  Then Ashley saw the trap. Kaine had his ghost fleet line up and act a certain way, drawing Jeryl and the Armada fleet in. She saw The Ghost staring down The Seeker as three other ships came in from the aft side. Jeryl must’ve not seen them, as he was still making a bee-line for Kaine.

  She clicked on her comm, “Captain, you have to dive!”

  She watched as The Seeker dove to get away—but things were too late. It only took a few seconds before Jeryl sounded the retreat. Ashley’s shuttle took a shot to the starboard side, but it was a glancing blow. Her concentration shifted to her own survival and she forced the shuttle into maneuvers it wasn’t built for.

  Nowhere near as agile as a Hunter, her shuttle was still better at moving than the Syndicate’s shuttles, and better shielded too. That’s what saved her ass. If she didn’t have the shields that she had, that last shot would’ve torn a hole in her hull, sucking her lifeless body out into space.

  Dodging and weaving as best as she could, she called out to Powers to get a shuttle off her tail. As soon as she was clear, she blasted another shuttle before risking a glance back at The Seeker.

  It was dead in the water, so to speak. She could see the engines were dark, and it was drifting aimlessly through the fracas. Within seconds, she could see escape pods blasting out of her hull.

  Eyes wide and breath coming in short bursts, Ashley’s mind raced. The Seeker had lost, and Jeryl had ordered his people to abandon ship. That had never happened. No matter how bad things had gotten before, they always found a way, even if it was just a way to get away.

  They must’ve lost the engines, Ashley tried to convince herself. Jeryl would never have abandoned ship unless it was completely hopeless. I need to get to him!

  She changed direction, blasting another shuttle out of her way. Syndicate shuttles were already attaching themselves to The Seeker. She could picture Syndicate soldiers rushing aboard, sweeping the halls, making their way to engineering and the CNC.

  If anyone was left on board, they’d be mowed down—it was doubtful that Kaine would be willing to take prisoners. Her mind told her there was nothing she could do, but her heart sent her racing for The Seeker anyway. She had to know about Jeryl.

  Then, without warning, her shuttle changed direction and her engines shut down. She was left to drift away from The Seeker, drift away from the danger.

  “No! No, no, no—God fucking dammit!” she screamed, tears falling down her face, as she pounded her fist on her console. She left her chair and headed to the back of the shuttle. There was an emergency porthole used to connect to another vessel if there was no way to dock at the back. It was hard to see through, but she was able to see enough.

  Union ships were blinking out, their FTL drives engaged and taking them away from the destruction. The Ghost was floating just above The Seeker, waiting as the four shuttles that had docked with her disconnected and made room for six other shuttles.

  The six new shuttles connected themselves to The Seeker with a variety of robotic arms, then engaged their engines and began pushing The Seeker away. Within seconds, The Seeker was gone, followed by the Syndicate fleet. The Ghost was the last to leave, waiting an agonizing minute before vanishing into the vast emptiness of space.

  What do I do? What do any of us do? How the hell do we beat Kaine? How do we fight a ghost of a man that commands a ghost of a ship? Ashley panicked, her tears continuing to flow down her cheeks.

  She forced herself to slow down her breathing. She needed to calm down for the baby. A heightened level of stress wasn’t going to be good. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind as best as she could.

  Not everything was lost. They had a plan, after all.

  However, what was not part of the plan was shutting down Ashley’s shuttle. Her jackass husband, in all his wisdom, had forced her away and shut her down so she couldn’t chase after them. She wasn’t going to chase him—she wasn’t that damn stupid. She was just going to make it look like she was going to try something. But no, her husband had to rig her shuttle to shut down.

  She ranted and raved, screamed and yelled, and cursed in whatever language she could think of for several minutes before power returned to the engines. “Asshole. Fucking asshole. I married a complete moron of an asshole. I’m pregnant with the kid of a moron of an idiot of a dumbass of an asshole!” Her breath was ragged, her heart was racing, and then she fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

  She tried to stop her mind from spinning into pure madness, but it wasn't easy. What if Jeryl died? She would be a widow and her child would be fatherless.

  “Please live through this, Jeryl. Please don’t die,” she said through hacking sobs.

  Ashley forced herself to stop panicking. She managed to regain control of herself, wiping her face clean with the arm of a space suit and standing up slowly.

  Then, she returned to the pilot chair.

  “This is shuttle Seeker Two, I repeat, this is shuttle Seeker Two. Does anyone copy?”

  “Shuttle Seeker Two, this is TUS The Revenge, we read you.”

  “Come get me, Revenge. We need to find out where they took my fucking ship.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

  The Revenge blinked into view a second later. Within a minute, Ashley was docked and leaving the shuttle, a security team and doctor ready to escort her to the CNC.

  You're fucking dead, Kaine, she promised. Nobody fucks with my family.

  Chapter 26

  Jeryl

  This better work, for fuck’s sake, Jeryl thought.

  The compartment was barely large enough to fit the platoon of commandos. There was no extra room to maneuver and hardly room to breathe—not that he wanted to. The air was foul. It stank of sweat and unbrushed teeth. The ship’s climate control helped, but the temperature was rising with so many bodies crammed together. Body heat intensified the smells and threatened to gag him. The only thing that kept him from puking was the thought of adding that smell on top of the others.

  The crew had difficulty staying still and quiet. Jeryl wished he could inject them with a sedative just for a little while. That would make his job so much easier.

  He wanted everyone to think he abandoned ship, so he gave his commandos orders to meet in front of a barely used storage compartment. Engineering rigged the control panel so that it was useless and rerouted it to Jeryl’s tablet. Those that truly knew him, or at least studied his movements, wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Hopefully, the invaders were idiots. In stories, the bad guys usually were, but it didn’t work that way in real life.

  The original plan was to outsmart The Ghost in battle, but in case they failed, Jeryl and Flynn had devised Plan B. A reckless suicide mission that would take Jeryl and a small commando squad into the heart of the Syndicate.

  He flinched every time one of the commandos shifted. They were getting restless. Even he was getting more nervous than usual. It wasn’t really about the dark sardine can, it was the waiting. The longer they waited, the more he wondered if his plan was a futile suicide mission.

  “The ghost—he’s here,” someone whispered frantically in the back.

  Well, no shit, Jeryl thought. He assumed the commando was talking about The Ghost. Maybe the pressure was getting to him. It was damn near getting to Jeryl, and none of them had half the experience he did.

  “He’s here. He’s telling me how we’re gonna die.”

  “Who?” another commando whispered.

  “The ghost. Can’t you hear it?”

  There was a hesitation, as if all of them held their breath to listen for this ghost.

  “Shut it!” Jeryl hissed.

  He’s lost his damn mind.

  He was talking about an actual ghost. He picked the commandos according to their training. Deep inside, he knew that
training and real life were different. This guy probably had some buried claustrophobia issues that they failed to uncover. Jeryl understood, but this was the worst time for someone to face their fears. If they lived, he would talk to Flynn about upping the stakes at the Academy. That wouldn’t weed out all the crazies, but it would help.

  “We’re gonna die. Then I’ll be the ghost. I’ll be the ghost. I’ll be the ghost,” the whispering turned to muttering, rising an octave each time.

  “Someone shut him the fuck up!” Jeryl had to raise his voice over the commando’s.

  Jeryl winced when he heard a muffled thump followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. Well, there was no other choice. Too much depended on this operation’s success.

  “Done, Captain,” a commando whispered.

  He felt bad for the poor bastard, but he would be discharged as soon as this assignment was over.

  It seemed the rest of them relaxed as well. Panic was contagious, and even Jeryl felt his heart pounding a little faster with every whisper.

  “Secure him so he doesn’t blow it when it’s time to move,”

  “Yes, sir,” he tried and failed to be quiet as he trussed his colleague about.

  “Bound and gagged, sir,”

  “Let’s just hope he stays unconscious,” Jeryl muttered.

  That was a fiasco, but it did serve as a slight distraction against the monotony. Now that things were settled, the smells invaded his nose again. He wished with all his might that the fuckers that took over would get to the Syndicate headquarters already.

  They used that time to prepare themselves. Jeryl closed his eyes and did his best to still his mind, which tried constantly to return to his wife. Was Ashley okay? Would she forgive him for disabling the shuttle? Was she in pain? He cursed himself for not being with her. She and the baby should be his first priority, but...service to the Terran Union would always hold that title. She knew that and loved him anyway.

  He shook his head in an attempt to drive out those thoughts. They would have to wait. Instead, he concentrated on listening for any noise outside. If the plan worked, they could overpower the Syndicate thugs and send the coordinates to Flynn.

  There were random clangs and scrapes outside. Jeryl held his breath. Someone was tinkering with the control panel right in front of them. They paid attention. The malfunction should’ve only shown if they ran a specific diagnostic. Jeryl had hoped it would go unnoticed.

  Apparently, it didn’t. All he could do was hope that Engineering did a job and repairing the panel would be impossible. At least, until they docked at headquarters and got the right parts.

  The sound of a spark from the panel followed by loud cursing made Jeryl smile. His Engineering team was the best. He made a mental note to commend them for a job well done.

  The sound of the invader punching the wall made him want to giggle. He contained himself and it was quiet again. Jeryl could only assume the asshole had walked away.

  He dozed a bit, his eyes popping open when a poke to the arm woke him.

  “Good morning, Captain,” one of the commandos whispered with a smile in his voice.

  “Oh shit. How long was I out?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Did I snore?”

  “No, but you farted.”

  Snickers rolled across the compartment. Jeryl glowered, not that anyone could see.

  What an immature thing to say.

  Then, he realized that they had been stuck down there for a while. They were just trying to find some humor in a situation that would otherwise drive all of them batshit crazy. Why not a good laugh over a stupid fart joke?

  Okay, that was a little funny, Jeryl admitted and allowed himself a small chuckle. It was mostly for the others’ benefit, to let them know everything was going to be okay. He could already feel the tension drain from the compartment.

  The Seeker shuffled and lurched at bit in a barely recognizable sign of docking. The movement was slow and easy. It had a permanent feel to Jeryl and his instincts told him they had arrived.

  Jeryl squared his shoulders and welcomed the burst of adrenaline that surged through his body. He was anxious to bust out of that fucking compartment and take down the Syndicate.

  “Ready, crew. Weapons out,” he whispered.

  The sound of the platoon sliding out their weapons was ominous but satisfying.

  Jeryl slipped his tablet half out of its pocket and hit the icon.

  The compartment door slid open.

  Chapter 27

  Jeryl

  They stormed out of their hidden compartment. Jeryl was at the forefront, his assault rifle’s butt knitted gently with his right shoulder blade. The muzzle was at eye level, aimed forwards.

  They came into a large empty corridor on the Engineering deck. The corridor wound around the entire deck like a huge snake coiling around a prey. There was no telling where Kaine’s people were.

  “Stay alert,” Jeryl whispered to his men. “These guys could be—”

  Before he could finish his statement, a man came whistling around the bend, bouncing—or more like skipping—along like he owned the place.

  Wrong move, pal.

  Jeryl saw the man skid to a halt, shock painted across his face. Then, he saw the man’s head jerk violently to the side and a hole appearing on his forehead right before he saw the flash of a muzzle beside him.

  The man collapsed to the ground, dead.

  And then the alarms went off.

  Jeryl started moving again, allowing his weapon to lead him. They all moved at a fast pace, looking at the world through the scopes of their rifles.

  Kaine’s men started filtering into the corridor. They were all cut down as Jeryl proceeded with his men to Engineering.

  As they got closer to the main entrance, more men found their way into their path. The sharp blare of the sirens drowned their screams as they were shot in the head or chest.

  They turned the final bend and came to a final stretch of corridor leading to a double door. As they approached, the alarms went silent.

  Jeryl paused, his team stopping right behind him. He looked around. He knew this place like the back of his hand—it was his ship after all. The corridor had progressively narrowed along the way, although it could barely be noticed.

  Jeryl couldn’t sense any present danger. The corridor was spartan. The lights were a dull red, signifying some sort of emergency mode or low energy mode. Jeryl was still not sure how Kaine had been able to pilot The Seeker here.

  The last Jeryl checked, Kaine’s ships had damaged The Seeker’s engines and left her drifting through space, lifeless.

  “What’s the problem, boss?” asked the nearest commando.

  “Something’s off,” Jeryl replied, eyeing the door ahead.

  “You think he knows we’re the ones here?”

  Jeryl glanced over his shoulder at the soldier. He was a sincere looking young man with a clean shaven face and a dreamy expression in his eyes. He was fitted tightly with combat fatigues, and weapons hung from the many compartments on his attire.

  “Soldier, he knows we’re here,” Jeryl replied. “I’m wondering if he knows why.”

  Jeryl took a few steps towards the doors. “I’m also wondering if he’s set a trap behind these doors.”

  The doors were made of the same material used to make the hull. It was completely impenetrable. It could withstand a blast, except of course a torpedo—but that would just blow out this entire section of the ship, so no sense using that inside the ship.

  There were no see-through windows or tiny portals that they could use to see what was behind the doors, just a thickly armored door.

  Jeryl was about to take the final steps that would put him within reach of the door and cause the systems to open the door automatically, when he heard the door click. It had been locked.

  “What do you suppose to achieve, Jeryl?” a voice boomed over the external comm speakers.

  Jeryl ignored the voi
ce and said to his men, “The door is locked. I need it opened now.”

  A scrawny looking soldier scurried out from the back of the platoon of commandos and ran to the front. He was carrying some sort of computer device. It was a medium-sized black box with a screen, a keyboard, a stub for an antenna and a wiry aspect.

  The tech specialist knelt down beside the door and revealed a small, hidden circuit compartment on the wall that Jeryl didn’t know even existed. He went on to connect his device to the circuitry and began his hack into the program.

  Jeryl may have waved his arm console at Kaine’s private office in Smuggler’s Cave to open its door, but this was no office door. This was a standard military facility door. A wave of the hand wasn’t enough. Getting into the circuitry was essential.

  “Done,” the tech specialist mumbled just as there was a click and a sharp hiss. The doors slid apart.

  They barreled into the Engineering room. Jeryl made a beeline for the main computer systems ahead, while he commanded the rest to barricade the door and stand guard. As he suspected would happen, Kaine’s people began to pour in minutes after they broke into Engineering, guns blazing.

  “Keep them off me for a second!” Jeryl groaned aloud, falling to his knees to make himself a smaller target.

  He accessed the ship’s systems and then ran a pinpointing algorithm to get his exact location.

  The screens were large enough for everyone in the room to see, including the enemy soldiers that were trying to destroy them.

  A motion to the right caught Jeryl’s attention. He fell backwards and dodged a spray of particle beams, raising his gun in that direction. More beams whizzed past his head as Jeryl saw that an enemy combatant had somehow snuck past the small ring his men had formed around him. Jeryl didn’t blink twice before he squeezed the trigger.

  The advancing fighter rocked backward with a sharp force, the beam tearing through his upper torso. The man crashed to the ground to the amazement of the nearest soldiers.

  “Sorry, boss!” one called out.