Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1

by Scott Bartlett

  At the last instant, he rolled to the right, toward where his assault rifle had ended up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another Gok gripping Markov’s helmet in its enormous hands, with the marine pinned helplessly against the wall, battering his opponent uselessly with his fists.

  Husher scooped up the assault rifle, aimed, and fired. Markov’s tormentor stumbled sideways, its faceplate shattered. Then the Gok who’d thrown Husher against the wall shoved him to the ground and planted a boulder-like knee on his chest.

  The Gok punched Husher’s helmet, knocking his head against the platform’s hard surface and making him feel dazed. Another blow knocked the wind out of his lungs.

  Next, several sharp reports sounded as Markov emptied his sidearm into the back of the Gok’s head. It collapsed on top of Husher, and it took the last of his strength as well as Markov’s help to push it off.

  “The brutes are fighting like berserkers,” the lance corporal said. “No self-preservation. I’ve never heard of Gok acting like this.”

  Husher looked around for another target and found none. At least half of his platoon lay dead, some of them gruesomely so—one of the privates who’d collected IDs from the Wingers was missing an arm. But the remaining marines had taken advantage of the Gok’s recklessness and prevailed.

  Gunfire could still be heard from the elevator where Wahlburg and Siu had made their stand. Husher flooded his system with a fresh round of stims, ignoring a warning from his heads-up display that he was nearing dangerous levels. “Let’s go help Wahlburg,” he said to the nine marines still able to walk.

  They rushed around the reactor to find Wahlburg pinned down by three Gok, who were advancing on the corner the sniper was using for cover.

  Husher took out the Gok nearest him, and Markov dispatched the second. The third alien managed to turn around before getting mowed down.

  Wahlburg emerged from behind the corner, his face paper-white. His eternal cool had finally cracked.

  “Where’s Siu?” Husher asked.

  “He stayed in the elevator, so he died. I knew shooting that Winger would draw the Gok’s attention, so I ran as soon as the doors opened, before those things could turn it into a shooting gallery.” Wahlburg slowly shook his head. “I can’t believe she’s gone, sir.”

  “I’m sorry, Wahlburg. But I need you to hold it together. For the mission.”

  The sniper nodded.

  “Sir,” Markov said, “we have three marines near the other elevator who are injured but still alive. Are we going to carry them back to the ship?”

  Husher considered the question. It would slow them down, but… “We’ll have to. Otherwise they’ll be killed in the explosion.”

  “Explosion?”

  “We still need to destroy the reactor, remember? Rig up the C4.”

  It took them under two minutes to place the explosives and set a timer that would allow them just enough time to escape—providing they didn’t encounter meaningful resistance on the way back. Husher was counting on the remainder of the platform’s forces being too busy attacking the stealth ship.

  He assigned two marines each to carry the three wounded. “Wahlburg, you and Private Simmons carry one of those Gok energy weapons between you. Markov, help me do the same. Everyone be ready to put down whatever they’re carrying to fight.”

  Caine’s voice entered his helmet. “Husher, the stealth ship’s engines have been taken out. And we’re about to be overwhelmed.”

  A wave of cold washed over his body. For a moment, he considered telling his marines to disarm the explosives and prepare to surrender to the Wingers. It’s over.

  He shook his head to clear it. “Sergeant Caine, I told you to defend that nuke and I expect you to follow my orders.”

  The sergeant hesitated for several seconds, the sound of background gunfire punctuating her silence. “Yes, sir,” she said at last. “Caine out.”

  The others were looking at him. “That was Sergeant Caine,” he told them.

  “What did she say?” Wahlburg asked slowly.

  “She said she hopes you haven’t had your fill of fighting yet. Double-time!”

  Chapter 81

  We Hold On

  “Sir, three more Condors just went down.” His sensor operator refused to meet his eyes, instead staring down at his console’s display.

  “How many does that leave us with?” Keyes said, glad he was still able to keep his voice level.

  “Fifty-eight, down from the ninety-nine we began the battle with.” Now Werner did look up. “Our losses are already unacceptable, Captain. We can’t keep the enemy fleet engaged for any longer without suffering a total rout of our Condor force. I recommend pulling out.”

  “You are not my Tactical Officer,” Keyes said, locking eyes with Werner until the other directed his gaze away, at Arsenyev.

  “Chief?” Werner said.

  Arsenyev ignored him, her lips tightening. The battle had frayed everyone’s nerves, including Keyes’s.

  His CIC crew looked haggard. Almost everyone had black marks under their eyes, and many of them drooped in their seats, staring at their consoles as though not really seeing what they showed. The smell of stale sweat pervaded the air.

  Quietly, he typed a message to Doctor Brusse, instructing her to come and start administering stims. I guess this is what happens when you fight two major battles in one day.

  As Keyes continued to study his tactical display, dismay gripped him, bordering on panic, and for a moment he felt like he was seeing the world through a tunnel. For his crew’s benefit, he fought not to let it show on his face. We need Husher to end this. Now.

  “Sir,” the coms officer said, his face schooled to neutrality. “We have a transmission request from the stealth ship.”

  Before he could stop himself, Keyes swallowed. “Patch it through.”

  Blackwing’s feathered face appeared on the CIC’s main viewscreen. “My ship’s engines are gone, Keyes.”

  “Gone?” Keyes said, and his voice came out sounding choked. “Elaborate.”

  “Gone. They’re destroyed. The Gok have energy weapons now, apparently, and they used one to trigger a catastrophic reaction in my engines. There’s no getting your nuke to the planet anymore. The mission’s over.”

  Slowly, Keyes nodded. He raised a hand to wipe sweat from his brow, and it shook as he lowered it. “Thank you for the report, Blackwing.”

  “Report? I’m asking you to come and get—”

  Behind the Winger, Caine burst into the stealth ship’s cabin. “What are you doing? I told you not to contact the Providence!” The sergeant gripped the front of the Winger’s suit and dragged him out of the seat, taking it for herself. She leaned forward. “We’re still fighting, here, Captain. We’re going to solve this. Caine out.”

  Keyes said nothing. Language had escaped him. The mission is over. I should…I should collect my people…

  But extricating themselves from this battle wouldn’t be easy. They’d lose more Condors as the fighters fled to the Providence’s flight decks, and the supercarrier herself would come under heavy fire as they made their way around the planet to rescue Husher, Caine, and the others. Not to mention we’ve failed humanity, and the galaxy.

  “Captain?” Werner said.

  “What?” Keyes asked, biting off the word.

  “Another Gok carrier has arrived and is deploying fighters.”

  Keyes cleared his throat. “It’ll be heading for us next. Prepare to execute evasive maneuvers.”

  “We should retreat, Captain Keyes,” Laudano said.

  The CIC fell silent, and Keyes turned his gaze to his XO.

  His stare did nothing to deter the man. “You’re putting the lives of your crew in unjustifiable danger. The mission is over. We need to leave.”

  “Our people are still down there fighting,” Keyes answered, his voice quiet. “Caine said they’re still fighting. If they still fight, then so do we.”

  “We’ll be overwh
elmed within minutes.”

  “We’re going to hold on a little longer.”

  “Keyes—”

  “I am your captain, and you will address me as such. You are my XO, and I command you to cease your opposition to orders I’ve already given. My crew’s morale has had enough of your pessimism. Are we clear, or do I need to throw you out of my CIC?”

  Laudano stiffened, his eyes narrowing. But he remained silent.

  “We hold on,” Keyes said, injecting his voice with strength, willing it to be steady. He looked around at his CIC crew.

  “We hold on,” Arsenyev repeated.

  “We hold on,” Ek said.

  Chapter 82

  Company

  Husher motioned for Markov to help him position the enormous energy weapon atop one of the Gok barriers. Once that was done, he tapped his chest and then made a trigger motion. He would be the one to fire the gun, while the lance corporal steadied it for him.

  Probably it would have been fine to communicate all this over a two-way channel, but he refrained, in case the Wingers had compromised their radios somehow. He’d already ordered the others to stay quiet unless absolutely necessary.

  The stims flooding his system still kept him going, but they gave him a strange, hollow feeling, and the pain in his shoulder was returning. It wouldn’t take much longer for his energy levels to crash.

  On top of a barrier three over from his and Markov’s, Wahlburg and Simmons had already positioned their Gok weapon. The marines were distributed behind the other barriers, to maximize the firing arc they had on the Wingers and Gok still pressuring the marines defending the stealth ship.

  This time, we’re on the right side of these barriers. Even the wounded that could still hold a gun slumped against them, taking careful aim.

  “Fire,” he whispered over a wide channel, and a couple of the Wingers turned to face them. So they have compromised our radio.

  It was too late to do them any good. They were pinned from two sides, and Husher and the remaining marines of his platoon proceeded to mow them down. Once the marines guarding the nuke realized what was happening, they began to emerge from their cover, increasing fire on the enemy.

  The handful of Gok among the Wingers quickly became enraged, weaving through the barriers to try to get at Husher and his troops.

  The marines knew better than to let that happen. They lined up their shots with a precision that spoke to years of training and combat experience.

  The energy weapons proved even more devastating. Two Wingers actually burst into flame, and when Husher and Markov directed a searing bolt at one of the Gok, it felled the hulking alien within seconds.

  “It’s over,” Wahlburg said less than a minute after that. Some of the aliens showed signs of life, groaning and shifting on the platform’s surface. None of them attempted to stand. “Now what?”

  “I don’t know,” Husher said. “But let’s join back up with Sergeant Caine and the others.”

  “Are we taking these Gok weapons with us?”

  Husher fixed the sniper with a level stare. “What do you think?”

  They hauled the energy weapons back to the stealth ship, placing them inside the airlock in case they were needed to repel another wave of attackers.

  When Caine saw him, she rushed over to wrap her arms around him. Husher tensed up for a moment, before allowing himself to relax into the embrace.

  “A salute might have been more appropriate,” he said gently. He felt her stiffen then, too, but he patted her on the back before they parted. “You did good work here, Sergeant. You did exactly as I ordered.”

  “Not really.” Caine cast her gaze down at the deck of the stealth ship. “I assume your orders entailed keeping the stealth ship operational.”

  “Well…”

  “What do we do now?”

  He cleared his throat. “Have you tried contacting the Wingers?”

  “Blackwing’s been trying for the last ten minutes. They still aren’t taking our calls.” The sergeant mustered a tiny smile.

  Wahlburg cut in over a two-way channel from where he stood watch outside the stealth ship. “Two shuttles just flew overheard, sir. I can only assume they’re bringing company. And there’s another one.”

  “I’ll be right out.” He told his transponder to revert to a two-way channel and met Caine’s gaze again. “More Wingers are coming. More Gok too, maybe. Any ideas?”

  “No.”

  A deep breath. “Maybe it’s time to surrender.”

  “Is that really what you want to do? Do you really think those Gok will allow the Wingers to accept our surrender, with how crazy they’re behaving?”

  Husher shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe what it’s actually time for is a last stand.”

  If the Wingers truly wouldn’t accept their surrender, then that was probably true. They’d need to hold out until the Providence came to rescue them, at the very least.

  But is that even possible? She doesn’t have stealth. The orbital platforms will tear her apart.

  Wahlburg’s voice entered his helmet again. “Where are you? We need everyone outside to hold these bastards off.”

  Husher sighed, and then he ordered every marine still inside the ship to crowd into the airlock. As the inner door closed and the chamber depressurized, he focused on breathing. With fifteen people in here, plus two Gok energy weapons, it felt pretty cramped.

  The Wingers had already begun their assault by the time they exited the stealth ship. There were at least sixty of them, with more on the way.

  So this is it, then.

  Husher raised his assault rifle to his shoulder and fired once. Then he drew back behind the corner of the stealth ship, just in time to avoid getting fried by an energy bolt.

  Chapter 83

  Backs to the Void

  “Bring out those Gok weapons!” Husher shouted over the wide channel.

  As for where they might set them up, he had no clue. No human was strong enough to duck in and out of cover while holding one. He’d mostly said it to remind the others that they possessed the Gok weaponry, to boost morale, but he doubted anyone was convinced.

  This is over. We’ve failed. I failed.

  The Wingers and Gok began leaving the barriers to close in and surround the marines guarding the stealth ship. Husher saw Markov overextend himself and go down in a spray of bullets. Wahlburg’s leg got caught in a blast from one of the Gok guns, and he survived only thanks to Simmons, who dragged the sniper backward.

  The human soldiers’ backs were up against the edge of the orbital platform. Husher glanced back, at the planet’s curved horizon and the stars that shone above it, and then faced forward.

  He looked back again, this time for longer.

  It’s time to try surrendering. Touching Sergeant Caine on the shoulder, he switched to a two-way channel. “It’s time to put our guns down,” he said. “Tell the others to stop shooting and wait for the Wingers to close in. They need to find you with your guns on the ground and your hands in the air.”

  “What if they don’t accept our surrender?”

  “I can’t believe they’ll slaughter us like that. The Gok, maybe, but they’re outnumbered by the Wingers, and I can’t believe it of them. They’ll intervene on our behalf.” Husher started toward the stealth ship’s airlock.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To tell Blackwing.” If he told her what he actually intended, she would argue, and there wasn’t time for that.

  He found the pirate captain still inside the cockpit, staring at the console viewscreen showing the battle outside. “Husher. Shouldn’t you be outside dying?”

  “Maybe, but I thought of a better death.”

  The Winger looked up and met his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know the engines are gone. But are the ship’s cold-gas thrusters still operational?”

  “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?” On the viewsc
reen, the Wingers and Gok were creeping close to the sides of the stealth ship, no doubt to investigate why the marines had stopped shooting.

  “We can use them to get off this platform. The gravity up here is minimal, so it won’t require much thrust.”

  That brought Blackwing’s now-familiar coughing laugh. “They’d shoot us down long before we made it to the Providence. Even at normal speeds they’d get us, but we’d only be crawling under the cold-gas thrusters.” Behind him, the enemy had found Caine and the others. Luckily, they weren’t shooting. Yet.

  “I’m not talking about escaping to the Providence.”

  The Winger blinked. “Then what—”

  “We can use the thrusters to get us off this platform. After that, we’ll use them to drop out of orbit.”

  “Drop?”

  “It works out, right? The platform’s in geosynchronous orbit, so it should be traveling at about three thousand meters per second, and you said the cold-gas thrusters can do seven hundred. It won’t take long to counteract our momentum and descend.”

  “Descend is one way to put it. Without our main engine, we won’t be able to slow down enough to, you know, survive.”

  “I have the Darkstream reentry suit. And you have wings.”

  Seconds ticked by in silence as Blackwing gawked at Husher, beak open. Behind him, on the viewscreen, the platform defenders had reached the airlock.

  Husher gritted his teeth. Soon they’ll be cutting their way in here. Or setting charges to blow their way in.

  “Listen, Blackwing, I know this is insane, and I can’t force you to risk your life. But we have a chance of finishing this mission, however slim, and it involves you flying this ship over the edge of this platform right now.”

  Slowly, the Winger turned back to the console and began keying in commands. “I did volunteer for this suicide run, didn’t I? Might as well see it to the end. You might want to buckle up.”

  “I’d love to,” Husher said, but walked to the cockpit’s hatch instead. “Unfortunately, I have to figure out how to get into a reentry suit while falling from the sky.”