Qole ignored the stray fire, trusting the sturdy hull of the Kaitan to shrug it off. She looked up at me. “Where?”
Activating the lenses in my eyes, I scanned the structure for a safe space to put down. We couldn’t have known where until now. Red silhouettes—our enemies—flickered out around the figures nearest the tall command center tower in the middle of the platform. Blue overlays dotted the locations of other, closer troops. Our forces.
“There.” I pointed to a space intended for a future construction project, right near the command center, but free of Solara’s troops.
Qole nodded imperceptibly, her fingers flexed, and the Kaitan, air rippling from the heat of its backwash, rocketed sideways like an angry insect and settled into the space with comfortable precision.
“We’re here.” Qole’s hands flew over the controls as she began shutting the Kaitan down.
I was suddenly scared, rooted to the spot. Outside would be the scream and roar of weaponry and smell of death. Again. And as much as I had thought I was past it, every horrible moment of the last month came rushing back to me. So many people dead, so many as a result of things I’d done or been involved in. My hands started to shake, and I looked down at them. Every death felt like a personal failure. And stepping outside meant confronting that.
I met Qole’s gaze. There was concern on her face, but her eyes were steady. She knew what she had to do, and she was going forward.
I felt myself come back together as neatly as Qole had landed the Kaitan. People would die; I knew that, and I knew I couldn’t change it. But we wouldn’t. And hopefully, we’d save more lives than we lost today. But then, as Qole reached for the last switch, I saw that her hands were shaking too.
“We’re going to make it,” I told her. She opened her mouth to reply, but I raised a finger. “And don’t tell me I can’t know that. The only thing we’ve consistently done is survive, so I’m going off evidence here.”
The corners of her mouth curved up in the smallest of smiles. “You’ve got me there.”
For a single precious second, that smile was the only thing that existed. I couldn’t imagine a better world than one where she would find something to smile over, and I wanted to create it for her.
It flickered and disappeared, and the captain was back. “Now let’s get to work.”
* * *
Our group wound through the abandoned construction toward the command center, alternately crouching and covering one another as we went. We made for my troops, which I could see in my lenses.
My troops. It was strange to think of those men and women as fighting and dying, trusting in my command, my ability to make decisions.
We broke into the open of the platform, and the firefight was spread out before us. Streaks of energy flickered between two positions, ours and Solara’s, debris scattering from blaster fire. Shields flashed and hummed, their incandescence lighting the spiraling smoke that drifted over the battleground. My troops had formed a defensive perimeter at the entrance to the command center.
As advanced and ostentatious as anything of Treznor make was likely to be, the transparent sphere of it was connected by a thin, almost invisible clear elevator shaft to the platform below. It was the only way in.
A woman ducked near me, half her helmet covered in dried blood, her armor striped with scorch marks. “Your Majesty.” She saluted crisply. “Commander Aris.” Without her name, I would have recognized her voice, even drowned out by weaponry, sounding through the comm in my ear. She was the sharp-faced woman from my Forging. “We mobilized a few minutes too late to take the command center. We’re pinned. Our equipment was intended for an infiltration mission, not heavy combat. Without heavy losses, I doubt we can go on the offensive.”
“Copy.” I knew what she was asking: Did I want them to engage in a suicide charge? I was amazed by her loyalty but grateful I didn’t have to contemplate such a thing. I brought up an overlay of the battlefield on my lenses.
“Even if we manage to win here, Solara will have already sent a small party up to the control center.” Basra’s voice filtered into my ear, his meaning clear. If Solara secured the control center for her own arrival and arranged for another royal family member to sign the fleet over to her, we would be done. We’re almost out of time.
I traded glances with Eton. “Commander,” I said to Aris, “lay down any visual cover you have left. All of it. Then hold your fire and, on my mark, charge the enemy position.”
It still sounded like a suicide charge to her; she just didn’t know it.
She didn’t even blink. “Copy.” If I’d doubted her bravery in the Forging, I didn’t now. Then she winked through her visor. “But if I survive, I want a rematch.” She turned, adjusted her comm frequency, and began to bark orders. Dozens of canisters arched through the air, trailing plumes. They landed with a spin, smoke pouring heavily from them. In addition to the smoke, infrared and electromagnetic signals were pulsing as well, there to scramble every sensor the enemy had, visual or otherwise.
I waited, counting down from ten to myself. Ten, nine, eight.
All fire ceased from my troops as smoke filled the air. Enemy fire still lanced through, the colors almost beautiful if it weren’t for their deadly intent. Seven, six, five.
The smoke rose high into the air, the circulation vents wafting it over us in a fog. Four, three.
As the fog started to peel away, suddenly I could see the ghostly figures of the Swarm hurtle through it. My troops hadn’t come prepared for heavy combat, but the Swarm was famed for nothing but. Their powered combat suits let them leap with murderous velocity directly into enemy positions. Their mass shattered shields and soldiers alike, sending shock waves through the duracrete beneath us. Once in enemy positions, they methodically opened fire with heavy plasma rifles that scorched holes and rendered commandos to ash.
Two. One. “Mark.” I spoke into the comm, and our troops rushed the enemy. I whipped both Disruption Blades into my hands, and after a few running steps, I jumped.
Devrak’s suit, which I was now wearing in full, wasn’t powered in the same way, but its tiny servos would, on command, provide extra force. I couldn’t use it indiscriminately, but I chose to activate them as I pushed off, feeling the rush of power as I leapt farther than human muscles could propel me. I landed in the enemy position and went to work. My Disruption Blades glowed in the smoke, leaving trails and patterns as I used speed to my advantage. Each strike deactivated shield stations and damaged weaponry, making an open path for soldiers behind. The smoke cleared in front of me, and I saw two of Solara’s Bladeguards doing the same to a member of the Swarm: deactivating his suit with their swords, then following through with blaster shots and blade stabs to the faceplates. I caught one of them by surprise, slashing through his defenses and armor, while several precise shots from behind me dropped the other to the ground.
Basra’s voice sounded in my ear. “You’re welcome.”
“Show-off,” I muttered, turning.
Through the smoke, Qole filtered into view, wearing the combat suit Talia had given her. Dark interlocking rings covered her limbs and lower torso, while thin armor plates covered her chest and shoulders. Brown synthetics scooped from her neck down to the armor, allowing for flexibility. An insignia was burned onto her right shoulder plate: three stars over three waves that represented the fledgling Alaxak government. With this, she still wore her original leather boots and gloves. A plasma pistol was strapped to one thigh, and she cradled a rifle as though she had been born to it. Arjan and Basra were close behind in matching suits of their own, Arjan with his knives strapped across his chest.
They ran with grim determination into the breach I had made, laying suppressive fire as Eton had taught them. If Qole was afraid, she didn’t show it, naming targets to Arjan and Basra as Telu relayed enemy positions from the Kaitan while parsing endless fe
eds—video, radar, heat-sensing, and anything else she could get her hands on.
I couldn’t watch for long; we only had precious minutes remaining in our window for success. I left them, darting through the combat field, relying on my suit to keep me safe as I headed for the elevator that led to the command center hovering in the air above us.
“Eton,” I ordered, “now.”
Eton landed before me, his arm wrapped around Makar’s waist, and cracks spread in the duracrete below his feet at the force of his impact. He set Makar down, and the Treznor-Nirmana king dusted himself off with dignity. With a twist of his hand, he opened the elevator doors, and the three of us disappeared inside. We were gone before our attackers even realized what had happened.
“Telu,” I said. “We’re in.”
“Good job,” she responded. “Qole is going to help Aris secure the entrance.”
My heart hammered. I wanted to be there with Qole, fighting. But the only real thing I could do to help her was leave her. It was becoming a familiar pattern. One I hated.
At another gesture from Makar, the platform beneath us lurched. Gravitational dampeners kicked in, and we stood comfortably, watching the battle recede behind us as we shot upward.
“Telu says sensors confirm a small group is already in the command center,” Eton reported. “I should be able to overwhelm them pretty easily.”
Makar smiled. “My, aren’t you confident. How easily, do you think?”
* * *
“Quite easily, I see” was Makar’s only comment minutes later, as we stepped past the scorched bodies of the soldiers that had been waiting to ambush us. That was all they could have done, since they couldn’t get inside the inner control room without Makar.
Outside the crystal-clear sphere of the command center, the construction docks floated in the vacuum of space, a maze of equipment and ships—almost every one part of Solara’s commissioned fleet that we were about to steal. It was an impressive view, with the inside of the control center even more ostentatious. From an outer circular walkway, another narrower catwalk ran to the middle, where the control room was suspended. It had a dais with a command terminal and was surrounded in a transparent bubble itself, scenes of ancient victories engraved by lasers on the surface. It was a place designed to impress, to entertain visiting royals as they claimed their new purchases in pomp and circumstance. As a result, there were also shuttle launches attached to the outside ring of catwalk: escape pods.
Telu’s voice sounded in my ear. “Nev, gotten anywhere yet? Solara is dropping something like a hundred shuttles. Give them twenty, and they will be all over you.”
We ran across the catwalk, Makar shouting as he led the way. “After I enter the access codes, the system will take readings of both of us. Don’t leave or it will restart!”
“How long will this take?” I couldn’t keep the tension from my voice as he waved open the door to the interior control center. “Solara is sending reinforcements.”
“It takes longer than it has any right to,” Makar replied. “If you want whoever is going to man your new fleet to get here before Solara, I would suggest you issue the command to them now.”
I had been holding off for a reason. On the way from Makar’s to here, I’d already used the QUIN to message Talia and Gavros to let them know that the plan had changed, that now we were seizing the fleet, not destroying it, and that we needed hundreds of reinforcements ready to crew our new ships. They’d had the numbers waiting on board dozens of shuttles as a contingency, in case I had been captured with our small strike force during the sabotage mission. In such an event, they would have thrown all caution to the winds and openly defied the Treznor-Nirmanas to get me back and to try to steal the new ships. It would have been a desperate, last move, since it would have meant war with both Solara and Treznor-Nirmana.
But that was before Makar had taken our side.
Now those shuttles were near, but I’d ordered them to wait just out of range of the docks. Because if we didn’t seize the new ships in time, everyone I sent here would be sitting targets for Solara’s fleet. They would be putting their faith in us. In me. I shook my head. It’s official. I hate my job.
I stood in the doorway to the interior control sphere, watching Makar awaken the ownership programming, and gave the order for the shuttles to land.
“Affirmative, Your Majesty. Have you taken control?”
I grimaced. If this didn’t work with Makar, this order would sentence all of them to death. “No, but I will have by the time you get here.”
A thick palm punched into my back, and I flew face-first onto the catwalk of the control sphere, blood in my mouth as the shriek of a plasma rifle sounded behind us. The rifle shrieked twice more, and I rolled over to see Suvis in midair outside the elevator, just as he buried his Disruption Blade into the faceplate of Eton’s power suit. Energy discharged from the sword in a corona, and Eton dropped to his knees, wobbling there for a terrible moment in the heavy suit, his plasma rifle crashing to the floor, before he fell onto his back with an enormous clang.
Face invisible in his skintight black mask, Suvis stalked toward me, Disruption Blade in one hand, photon pistol in the other. Two scorch marks marred Suvis’s suit, the blistered skin oozing, but they seemed to have no effect on him. I glanced around for my gun and saw it on the bottom of the command-center sphere, fallen off the catwalk when Eton had pushed me out of the way. The pistol was as good as gone, and my blades wouldn’t help me at this distance. Suvis took aim.
Before he could fire, the transparent door to the control room slid shut between Suvis and me, sealing itself with a pop. A moment later Suvis’s shot scoured the surface before my eyes in an ugly streak.
I sprang to my feet, Disruption Blades humming to life. “Open the door,” I snarled at Makar. “I’ll end him.”
“There is no time.” Makar stepped up to the command terminal on the center dais.
I didn’t move. “He’ll kill Eton.”
“He looks quite dead to me already.” For once, Makar’s response was completely serious. “If you want any chance to beat your sister to this fleet, we must do this now.” His fingers danced across the display panel’s interface.
“Welcome, Your Majesty,” a synthesized, sexless voice intoned. “Initiating ownership transfer protocols.”
Every fiber of my being wanted to slaughter the wretched man inches from me. There was a twisted justice to Eton being felled by the very person he had abandoned me to, but I could find no pleasure in it.
I tore myself away and stalked toward Makar. He was right. This isn’t about stopping the weapon; this is about stopping that hand that wields it. I repeated the thought over and over, using it as a mantra to keep my reason.
As soon as I reached Makar’s side, another light glowed to life on the terminal display. “Codes authorized. Gathering biometric data,” the voice announced, the last words muffled by the crack that came from behind us.
Suvis had driven the point of his Disruption Blade into the door. He did it again. And again. He paused to fire at the same point with his blaster, then began chipping away with the sword again.
“Um…that looks like it might work,” I said.
Makar glanced at his progress. “It might. If he breaks in before the process is complete, one of us will have to deal with him.”
I stared, fascinated, as Suvis continued. His pace was machinelike, unwavering. The cracks spreading in the duraplast paid testimony to his determination.
My eyes traveled to where Eton lay, perhaps dead or dying. I wondered how I would explain to Qole and the rest of the crew what had happened, especially if his sacrifice had been in vain.
That was when the breastplate of Eton’s suit exploded forward and a single fist shot into the air.
Rising from the husk of his suit, face bloody from a long gash down
his cheek, Eton emerged. He snatched the heavy breastplate with both hands and heaved. Somehow, Suvis brought his arms up in defense as it struck him, driving him against the door. His pistol fell out his hand and bounced off the catwalk into the air. Straightening, Suvis maintained his grip on his blade and hefted the breastplate as if it weighed nothing, perhaps to hurl it back at Eton.
Before he could, Eton pile-drived against his own armor plating, pinning the assassin and latching onto the hand that held the Disruption Blade. Suvis dropped it, then, in a movement so fast I couldn’t follow it, snatched it out of the air with his other hand. But Eton was already moving back, taking the breastplate with him. Suvis stabbed at his torso, but Eton raised the breastplate and smashed it violently aside. The blade merely clattered to the catwalk.
“Biometrics collected,” the voice informed us, calm and oblivious to the chaos outside. “Verifying.”
Suvis pounced, placing his foot on top of the breastplate and using it as a launchpad to leap even higher. Then he dropped, bringing his knee down on Eton’s head. Eton toppled backward like a felled tree, the breastplate clattering out of nerveless fingers.
“Pity he didn’t last longer. We need a bit more time,” Makar said with a sigh. I couldn’t respond.
Suvis drove his knee down yet again. I would have broken away, run for the door, but Makar had hold of me with a steel grip.
He’s going to kill Eton, and I’m just going to stand here and watch.
Eton caught Suvis’s knee. He should have had a fractured skull. Instead, the muscles in his arms bunched like coiled cables, and with a heave, he threw Suvis back.
Suvis landed in a roll, and Eton stood. He moved slower, carefully, with determination. With perfect form, he settled into the defensive position that Devrak loved. Instead of the typical fury, his face was calm, and he smiled a bloody smile, beckoning with one hand.
“Biometrics confirmed. Welcome, Nevarian Dracorte. Please acknowledge your desire to complete this transaction.”
Shadow Call Page 28