Reckoning: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 3

by Scott Bartlett

  Husher squinted, staring into space, forcing himself to concentrate. Three squads carried rocket launchers, distributed across three platoons.

  “They’re near,” he said.

  “Tell them to get as close as they can to the stronghold while staying under cover. Order them to prepare to fire at its walls on my signal. Your signal, I mean. I’ll give you the signal.”

  “I get it,” he said, offering her a small smile. She smiled back. Then gunfire thundered nearby, bringing them back to their situation.

  After waiting for Wahlburg, Aheera, Tort and Ochrim to catch up, they pressed on toward their objective. The thousands of Kaithe dying had hit Aheera hard, too—Husher had felt it hit her. She’d handled it better than him. They exchanged glances, but otherwise they didn’t remark on the occurrence.

  A half hour later, they were in position, along with the three rocket launcher teams, distributed along the edge of their firebase’s circle of protection. The hilltop ahead rose out of the jungle, the stronghold gleaming atop it like a metal crown.

  Husher sent a signal to every active platoon that wasn’t currently engaged in pitched battle: Come now. Muster here. We’re about to strike.

  “We can’t wait any longer,” Caine hissed. “We’re sitting ducks. It’s time to take our chance.”

  “Most of our forces are out of position,” Husher said.

  “Doesn’t matter. We move or we die.”

  He knew she was right. “Okay. I’ll send the signal?”

  A curt nod from Caine. “Do it.”

  He did, and seconds later, thirty rockets streamed forth from three different locations, slamming into the side of the stronghold. Explosions blossomed, rising into the humid air, sending spurts of fire and molten metal sailing into the jungle.

  I’m glad we’re not any closer than we are.

  But they soon would be. “Let’s move,” Caine ordered as dark smoke reared up from the explosion.

  The jungle was catching fire in multiple places—Husher saw that through the eyes of hundreds of Kaithe. If they didn’t reach the stronghold now, they wouldn’t reach it at all. Not today, and probably not ever.

  Worse: the fire would prevent their out-of-position troops from joining them inside the facility. The few platoons close enough would comprise the entire force they’d have to complete the mission.

  “Run!” Caine screamed, the need for stealth having evaporated with a fresh eruption of gunfire all around them. The enemy Ixa and Gok were fighting hard to prevent them from progressing through the jungle, and more bullets came from what remained of the stronghold’s roof and walls.

  At last, they reached the blackened, twisted whorl the fortress wall had become. The jagged metal smoked, and it would not have been safe to cross for someone without a UHF-issue pressure suit or equivalent.

  Tort brought the nuke inside, setting it down gently on the floor, which was largely intact. Then he returned to pick up Aheera, making her look like a doll in his arms, rather than the fierce warrior Husher knew she was.

  The Gok stepped over a protrusion of metal with a wicked-looking edge, and then he placed the Kaithian on the floor next to the nuke. Husher and Caine followed, trailed by Wahlburg and Ochrim.

  Two platoons had already set up position on both ends of the corridor they’d accessed, ready to fight off Ixan defenders. There were Kaithe, Wingers, Gok, and humans, all working together to end the threat Baxa posed to the galaxy. Husher couldn’t allow himself more than a moment to reflect on this unprecedented inter-species cooperation, but it heartened him nevertheless.

  He turned to Ochrim. “Which way?”

  “Either way leads to stairwells that will take us down to the facility where Baxa is housed. There are no elevators—they were dismantled once construction on the facility was complete.”

  “All right.” Husher exchanged glances with Caine, tilting his head back at the hallway behind him. “That way has the most friendly Gok. They’ll make the best vanguard.”

  “Yeah,” Caine said. “Good call.”

  But Husher doubted he would ever forgive himself for making that call.

  As they crossed a corridor, after being assured it was clear by the Wingers who’d scouted it, a single shot rang out. Caine fell, clutching her neck.

  “No!” Husher shouted, and he fell out of the Kaithian Consensus, tumbling back into his regular human condition, where shock and grief awaited, threatening to break him.

  He ran to Caine’s side.

  Chapter 72

  A Chance

  Keyes’s fleet had fallen below one hundred ships.

  The Providence flew through the battle, providing more utility in drawing Ixan attention away from the other allied ships than it did with its limited arsenal.

  Her Air Group flew with her, also severely reduced. But Fesky didn’t rest, urging her pilots on, not letting them focus on the doom that would soon come for them all. In the rare moments when Keyes’s attention wasn’t required elsewhere, he tuned into the Air Group’s channel at low volume, just to hear Fesky’s spirit.

  On the tactical display, he watched two UHF missile cruisers fall, followed by two frigates and a corvette. Then, one of their four remaining destroyers went down, to the battle group that Teth had taken direct command of.

  It’s happening. The allies’ ability to provide a meaningful defense was crumbling, and the enemy fleet would have access to the Baxa System soon.

  A thought had occurred to Keyes around an hour ago, and he knew its time had come. Indeed, since the war began, and even before, he’d known something like this could very well become necessary.

  Now that the moment had arrived, a resistance rose up inside him. But he knew where that came from. His resistance to what he knew must be done was mere animal instinct—the will to survive.

  He shunted it aside. “Piper,” he barked at his Coms officer. “Get me Piper.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The moment you have him, order the entire crew to execute evacuation protocol, making their way to the escape pods and remaining shuttles.”

  “S-sir?”

  “Don’t question, just do it!”

  Moments later, the Tumbran’s voice emerged from Keyes’s com. “Admiral Keyes.”

  “Piper.” Over their conversation, the evacuation order sounded throughout the ship. He ignored it. “I need the software you used to remotely control the Vermillion Shipyard vessels. How difficult would it be to install on the Providence?”

  “It would be impossible. The software exploits a feature designed well after the Providence was built, which slaves the sensor feeds, navigation functions, helm functions, and so on to a single console. To fly the Providence, you need a full CIC crew at minimum, Admiral.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Admiral?” Arsenyev said, and he looked up at her, a lump suddenly forming in his throat.

  “Yes?”

  “What are you planning?”

  “Never mind. I—anyone participating in what I’m planning is not likely to survive.”

  “What is it?” Werner said.

  Keyes looked around his CIC crew, bile creeping up his throat. “No. I can’t ask—”

  “You can ask us, sir,” Arsenyev said. “And we deserve the opportunity to answer. If you think we can give humanity a chance, you must tell us how.”

  He swallowed. “Piper?” he murmured. “Are you still there?”

  “I’m still here, Admiral.”

  Gazing around his CIC, Keyes spoke. “There’s a way for us to defeat Teth. It involves using one of the other UHF ships to generate a wormhole. The Constellation, perhaps. We’d still need your software, Piper, to control her.”

  “Sir,” Werner said, “the wormholes—”

  “They destroy all organic matter that passes through them,” Keyes interrupted. “But we can still open them. And if we allow one to slam shut without a conductor in place to recapture its energy, it’ll wipe out most of this system, and th
e Ixan fleet along with it. We can open the wormhole’s ends on opposite sides of their fleet. But we need to give the other allied ships a chance to escape first. That’s where the Providence comes in—to keep the enemy occupied long enough for the rest of the fleet to slip into the Baxa System. Piper, can you shut down the darkgate from the other side, once you’re through?”

  “I won’t be going through the darkgate, Admiral,” the Tumbran said, sounding resigned. “For this to work, you need me in the Constellation’s CIC. You could fly her from the Providence using my software, but you wouldn’t be able to create a wormhole that way.”

  “Piper…”

  “I’ve made my choice, Admiral. This is about Tumbra, too—not just humanity. Once the other ships are through the darkgate, I’ll transmit an override command to it, closing it. Then I’ll trigger the wormhole.”

  Keyes opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Arsenyev stood up from her console. “I’m staying, Admiral. You need a full CIC to fly the Providence. I’d rather die in this way than have humanity’s blood on my hands.”

  “Arsenyev, no.”

  “I’m staying, Leonard.”

  Her use of his first name made him blink. But there was no point reprimanding her. Not now.

  Werner stood from his console. “I’m staying too, Admiral.”

  One by one, his CIC officers rose and declared they would stay to help execute Keyes’s plan.

  He let out a ragged sigh. “You’re among the finest men and women humanity has ever known,” he told them softly. “Your loss will be devastating, and I hope our species recognizes that.”

  “The same goes for you, Admiral,” Arsenyev said.

  He didn’t acknowledge the remark. “Sit at your consoles, everyone. Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter 73

  God Speed

  Captain Duncan of the Constellation stood in front of the hatches leading to her destroyer’s port-side escape pods, ushering her crew inside them.

  She’d entered the Captain Emergency Prerogative code into her com, which overrode crew privacy protections to inform her of each man and woman’s location. Only when the entire crew was moving toward their nearest escape pod did she start to breathe a little easier.

  Even through the frantic exodus, she managed to reflect on what an amazing person Admiral Keyes was. The idiom “the captain goes down with the ship” had survived since the days when humanity had lived on Old Earth, but she’d never heard of anyone interpreting it literally, at least not in modern times. If anyone was going to do so, it would be Keyes. And his entire CIC crew… Their names would echo through the chambers of history.

  Duncan would be among the last to climb inside one of the cramped escape pods, but that was as far as she would take the idiom. The pod’s AI would then disengage it from the ship, launching it from its ejection tube and sending it straight at the darkgate.

  Only shuttles were designed to dock with the cylindrical escape pods in order to extract crewmembers, and there would be no time for the other UHF ships to deploy shuttles to collect them before they exited the system. Duncan wasn’t confident about the probability of every pod making the journey intact, but they had a chance, whereas just forty minutes prior she’d felt certain everyone on the Constellation would die.

  Before entering the escape pod herself, Duncan cast one last look over her shoulder, at her beloved ship. She’d captained the destroyer for seven years, and now she would become the captain of nothing except a squat tube. That was hard. But she preferred it to death.

  As she took a step toward the hatch, footsteps caught her ear, coming from the direction of the ship’s shuttle bay. Turning her head, she saw the Tumbran walking briskly down the corridor, escorted by two marines, no doubt on the way to the CIC. The diminutive alien’s gray chin sack wobbled back and forth as he approached.

  Duncan waited until the Tumbran reached her. When he did, he gazed up at the pair of soldiers. “You should go with Captain Duncan. The only thing I need protection from is Ixan weapons fire, and there’s nothing you can do about that. Go, and live.”

  “Thank you, Piper,” Duncan said, sketching out a salute with a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling.

  The Tumbran pointed in her face. “You can thank me by fighting to make sure your species never loses its way again. All right? Humanity nearly doomed us all. You have incredible potential as a species, incredible power. If you misuse it again, you’ll take the galaxy down with you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said, a little breathless.

  “Then spread the message. Fight your species’ worst tendencies until your dying day, Captain Duncan. Let what is best for others guide you—best for other humans, and best for the other species that share the stars with humans. In turn, others will care for you.”

  “I will,” Duncan said. “I promise that I will.”

  “I believe you,” Piper said. He continued on toward the CIC.

  “God speed,” Duncan called after him.

  “And you,” the alien replied without looking back.

  Chapter 74

  Battle Spread Formation

  “Fesky, come in. Are you there?” It was Admiral Keyes’s voice.

  “Just a moment,” she snapped, whipping her Condor around its short axis to pick off a microcoupler that had been about to overtake her. That done, she saw the opportunity for a clean shot at a drone fighter. She took it, and missed, cursing.

  “Fesky! I need you to disengage.”

  “Admiral? Disengage?”

  “Look at your tactical display. Escape pods have left the Providence and the Constellation. I need the Air Group to protect them until they reach the Baxa System.”

  “Has something happened to the Providence? Have the life support systems failed?” She accelerated to give herself room to fire on a pair of missiles in close pursuit, then scanned her tactical display for more immediate threats.

  “Everything’s functional.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “I…” The admiral sighed. “I have a plan to defeat Teth. I’ve ordered the fleet to transition into the Baxa System, but I have to stay.”

  “Then I’m staying too!” Fesky loosed a Sidewinder at a drone, and this time she got it.

  “Fesky, I need you to escort those escape pods. I’ve given you a direct order, and I expect you to obey.”

  “Admiral—”

  “If our friendship means anything, you’ll obey without further question.”

  “I can’t just leave you. I can help, sir.”

  “You’ve helped me plenty, old friend. You’ve saved my life more than once. But this is something I need to do alone. I’m prepared to beg you to obey my orders, but I hope you won’t make me spend my dignity before I do what I need to do.”

  Fesky took a deep breath. “It’s been an honor serving under you, Admiral. I can’t describe how—”

  “You don’t need to. There’s no time, and I already know. Though I’m not sure you can possibly know what your friendship has meant to me. Protect those evacuees, Colonel. Keyes out.”

  The channel went dead, and Fesky was already trembling violently.

  Get a grip, Fesky. You need to focus.

  She opened a wide channel. “All Condor pilots, form on me. We’re escorting those escape pods out of the system. Battle spread formation until I say otherwise.”

  The tactical display showed what was left of the Air Group falling in around the escape pods, drawing farther and farther away from the Providence, which was charging deeper into the enemy fleet.

  Goodbye, old friend.

  Chapter 75

  Much Harder

  The Ixan sniper’s shot had entered Caine’s neck but exited cleanly, without hitting her trachea, jugular vein, or carotid artery. If the bullet had been Ocharium-enriched, it would almost certainly have caused a lethal rupture, but she’d been incredibly lucky. Though she’d fallen unconscious, her suit had sealed the wound, and her vita
ls were more or less stable.

  Husher carried her through the facility. There had been nowhere to leave her, and there was no turning back until the mission was complete. So he carried her, jogging through corridor after corridor, relying on stims to help him keep up the strength he needed to transport her pressure-suit-clad body.

  Soon after Caine was shot, Ochrim had led them to a stairwell that seemed to go down forever, twisting around and around, finally ending at a point that felt like it had to be several hundred meters underground.

  Now they moved through the facility as fast as they could, traversing corridors and rooms and sometimes even caves, all filled with naked electronics. It was much cooler down here, and it made sense that the Ixa would store Baxa’s vast brain so deep underground, rather than on the scorched surface. As with any computing equipment, it benefited from a cold environment.

  With Caine in his arms, Husher couldn’t fight, and since Tort carried the nuke, his situation was similar. For his part, Wahlburg was occupied with making sure Ochrim didn’t walk into an enemy soldier’s line of sight.

  Aheera remained unburdened, but the facility wasn’t as friendly to her style of combat as the jungle had been. Husher saw her take down an Ixan soldier creeping out of a side corridor to get the drop on what remained of the vanguard platoon, but that was all.

  The pair of platoons escorting them had been whittled down by attack after attack, until now they totaled less than one platoon, advancing in protective formation around Tort, Husher, Aheera, Wahlburg, Ochrim, and Caine. Six Gok marines still lived, nine Winger, and twelve human, not counting Husher and Caine. A significant force for this type of mission, but if Baxa kept up the pressure he’d been applying so far, that force would soon crumble.

  And then Husher would have to lower Caine to the floor. He was prepared to do that in order to fight, but he didn’t know whether he was prepared to abandon her altogether—even if the fate of every species in the galaxy depended on it.