Desperate, Lucien reached up and pulled the alien down to eye-level with him. He stared into those glowing blue eyes, their depths inscrutable. “How’s this for a choice,” he said as he ran the sword across the alien’s throat with all his strength. The blade flashed clean through, and the alien’s mouth popped open in a silent scream as the light left his eyes and his head drifted free in a torrent of black blood that splashed Lucien’s helmet. He grimaced and shoved the body away from him, wiping the blood on his sleeve. Then he whirled around to find Atara drifting peacefully behind him, her eyes shut and a serene expression on her face.
“Atara!” Lucien dropped the sword and reached for his daughter, pulling her face down to his. When she didn’t react, he slapped her cheek. “Wake up!”
Still nothing.
A navy corpsman appeared beside them and ran a scanner over Atara’s body with a flickering blue fan of light.
“She’s alive... but comatose,” the corpsman declared. “We need to get her to hospital.” He turned and snapped his fingers at another corpsman, a young woman. Her uniform was splashed crimson with blood from the one who’d been killed in front of them. She shook herself out of an apparent state of frozen terror, but made no move to assist.
Lucien saw why a second later. Theola stood beside her, clutching the woman’s hand in a tiny fist. Lucien ran to his other little girl. He dropped to his haunches in front of her, about to fold Theola into a big hug—
But she screamed in terror and ducked behind the woman’s legs.
Lucien blinked and whirled around, expecting to see another blue-skinned alien standing behind him, but there was nothing there.
The woman holding his daughter’s hand spoke in a trembling voice: “She’s afraid of you, sir.”
Lucien turned back to her, his brow furrowed in shock. “Me?”
Black alien blood still smeared his faceplate, reminding him why his daughter might be afraid. Theola watched him with huge eyes, peeking between the woman’s legs. Covered in Faro blood, he must have looked like another monster to Theola, maybe even more terrifying than the one who’d grabbed her sister.
A lump rose in Lucien’s throat as he stood. “Look after them please, ma’am. I need to go wash up.”
The female corpsman nodded woodenly as Lucien turned away. His whole body shivered with fury as he stalked back to the concert hall. Seeing the terror in his one-year-old’s eyes, and knowing she was afraid of him, had hurt more than any injury the Faros could have inflicted. Add to that the psychological damage of what she’d witnessed, and whatever the frek they’d done to Atara...
Lucien shook his head, and his hands balled into fists. He’d make the Faros pay if it was the last thing he did.
Chapter 14
Astralis
“Come,” the trio of identical blue-skinned aliens intoned in a single loud voice.
“And if we refuse?” Chief Councilor Ellis asked. He drew himself up and puffed out his chest, trying to look defiant, but to Tyra he looked like a boy pretending to be a solider.
“Then we kill everyone on the bridge,” the aliens replied. “Your choice.”
Tyra watched from the sidelines as Admiral Stavos stepped forward. “You can start with me.”
“All three,” the aliens replied.
Ellis glanced to General Graves and then to Admiral Stavos, his eyes pleading. Graves walked over to him with a tight smile, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll go together,” Graves said, and pushed Ellis along in front of him.
Admiral Stavos kept pace beside them, and Tyra watched in horror as the leaders of Astralis approached the alien clones to commune with them—whatever that meant.
They stopped in front of the aliens, each of them facing off with a different clone, and then the aliens raised glowing palms in front of their human counterparts’ faces.
Graves arched an eyebrow at this, his eyes squinting into the light. “If you’re expecting a high-five, you’re about to be disappointed.”
“Shut u—” Ellis began, but he was abruptly cut off as some unseen force yanked him face-first into the alien’s palm. Graves and Stavos were also yanked forward, and glowing alien hands wrapped around each of their faces like luminous squid.
Ellis gave a muffled scream, and one of the bridge crew gasped. Murmurs of concern rose from the crew, and the comms officer rose halfway out of his chair, his hand on his sidearm.
“Wait!” Tyra said. She listened with growing apprehension to Ellis’s muffled screams, but she thought it noteworthy that neither Graves nor Stavos were screaming. If they were in pain or danger, surely they’d at least grunt, or call out orders to the crew. All three of the Faros stared fixedly ahead, unblinking and unmoving.
Adrenaline sent sparks shooting through Tyra’s nerves, urging her to act, while cold beads of sweat slipped down her spine. “What are you doing to them?” she demanded.
No reply.
She felt for her sidearm with a clammy hand, and cold metal kissed her fingertips. With the aliens so utterly distracted, this might be their only chance to take them by surprise...
Then she remembered that six aliens had made it to the bridge. That meant that these three had to have another three guarding their backs. Tyra caught a meaningful look from the comms officer, and she realized she wasn’t the only one thinking about attacking. She gave her head a slight shake.
At best they had six crewmen with a clear shot right now, and none of them was as heavily armed or armored as the Marines who’d been defending the bridge. Opening fire with nothing but pistols would be suicide—not to mention they’d probably kill their leaders in the process.
The sound of weapons fire reached the bridge, and Tyra’s breath caught in her throat. Should she dive back into cover, or remain standing?
The three Faros in front of her made no move to turn and face the threat, but the weapons fire grew louder and more insistent. Explosions boomed and roared. Acrid smoke gushed in.
The aliens appeared to snap out of their reverie, and finally they released Astralis’s leaders. Tyra couldn’t tell if it was because of the fight going on behind them, or because they’d just finished whatever they were doing.
Stavos, Graves, and Ellis stood statuesque on the deck, swaying in zero-G, pinned in place by their mag-boots. Their backs were turned to her, but Tyra suspected their eyes were shut, and they were asleep. She had a feeling that they’d just been subjected to the Faros’ equivalent of a mind probe.
Tyra sucked in a breath and shook her head, wondering what to do. The three Faros turned to leave, their backs clearly exposed, offering tempting targets.
The ship’s gunnery chief jumped up from his chair, sidearm out. “Open fire!” he yelled, and pulled the trigger three times fast. Bolts of red-hot plasma shrieked out and slammed into one of the aliens—
To no effect. That same alien whirled around and launched a blinding ball of energy plasma from his palm. It hit the gunnery chief and exploded with a blast of heat that sent him flying over the railing to join the other dead crewman floating near the viewscreens.
No one else tried anything, and the aliens raced off the bridge. Tyra waited until they were gone before checking on Ellis and the others. She rounded their backs to face them, only to find exactly what she’d expected—eyes shut, faces expressionless, relaxed in sleep. They looked so peaceful that they might even be dead.
Fear stabbed Tyra’s heart, and she reached up to check Ellis’s pulse. The ship’s science officer joined her and checked Stavos’s life signs with a handheld scanner.
“Ellis is alive,” Tyra said, feeling his carotid artery jumping steadily under her fingertips.
“So is Admiral Stavos,” the science officer said. “But he’s in a coma.” She ran her scanner over Graves and Ellis next. “They all are.”
Tyra grimaced. “We need a medical team down here.”
“They’ll never make it. The Marines need to open a clear path to the bridge first.” The science
officer nodded to the entrance of the bridge to indicate the sounds of battle still drifting to their ears. The weapons fire sounded more distant now.
Tyra hurried back to the holo table to check on the situation. She saw four red dots—no longer six—racing away from the bridge at an impossible speed, followed by a swarm of slower green dots.
The science officer joined her by the table. “They’re outrunning bots,” she breathed.
Tyra glanced at her and took a moment to look up the woman’s name via her ARCs. It flashed up above her head in a green bar of text—Lt. Cmdr. Esalia Wheeler.
“They’re obviously not biological,” Tyra replied. “No biological being can shoot plasma from their bare hands.”
“Or perform mind probes,” Lieutenant Wheeler added.
Tyra acknowledged that with a nod. She tracked the enemy’s progress with her index finger. They’d just reached a stairwell and now they were flying down the stairs to even lower sub levels. “Where are they going?” Tyra wondered aloud.
“No way to know for sure,” Wheeler said, “But I have a guess.”
Tyra sought the other woman’s gaze, and Wheeler looked up from the holo table with a grim frown. “They came here, mind-probed our leaders, and now they’re fleeing with the intel they gathered.”
“Or they found a weakness they can exploit in our ship,” Tyra suggested.
“Either way, we have to stop them,” Wheeler replied.
“How?”
“We have superior numbers and access to the ship’s quantum junctions. We jump ahead of them and box them in.”
Tyra nodded. “Who’s going to coordinate that?”
“Graves, but since he’s out of action someone probably already picked up the slack for him in the operations room. Hang on, let me check.”
“Bridge to CIC, this is the acting CO. Is the acting CMO on deck? Over.” Wheeler paused and waited for a reply, but none came.
“Bridge to CIC, how copy? Over.”
...
“They’re not answering,” Tyra said, and pulled up a schematic view of the Operations Room. It looked fine to her.
“They’re all dead,” Wheeler whispered.
Tyra flinched. “What?”
The science officer pointed to the schematic of the operations room, but Tyra still didn’t see anything. Then she saw what she’d missed: there should have been at least a dozen green dots spread through the room—officers at their stations, but there wasn’t even one.
“We’re going to have to coordinate from here,” Wheeler said. Then a moment later, “Bridge to unit forty-nine. How copy? Over.”
“Sierra Four Niner, solid copy. Need to speak with Actual for sitrep, over.”
“Sierra Four Niner, this is Lima One. Actual is down. Sitrep is four bandits on sub five twenty, sector thirty-seven, section thirteen, sub-section F, heading down stairwell number four in alley beside the Pharma and Drug Store. How copy? Over.”
Tyra tuned out the ensuing conversation to rather watch the action play out on the table. Sierra four niner called in backup and hundreds of green dots began pouring out of quantum junctions above and below Sub Level 520. Dozens more streamed into the stairwell in question and cornered the fleeing aliens. Tyra watched simulated weapons fire flash across the schematic. Green dots winked away in droves, but more kept streaming in to replace them.
After about a minute the first red enemy signature winked off the grid, followed by two more, and then the last one vanished.
“Sierra Four Niner here—we’re all clear.”
“Good to hear Four Niner,” Wheeler replied. “I’ve got twelve more bandits on sub nine sixty, also heading down.”
“We’re on it, Lima One, moving out!”
A collective sigh rose from the bridge. The immediate danger was past.
Tyra glanced over her shoulder at the comatose leaders of Astralis.
Lieutenant Commander Wheeler followed her gaze and she snapped out a new order over the comms. “Bridge to Medical, we need immediate assistance, over.”
The reply crackled out from overhead speakers. “Medical here, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
“The CO, CMO, and Chief Councilor are all comatose after direct contact with the enemy.”
“Acknowledged. A team is on their way. Advise you arrange a Marine escort.”
“Roger. Escort will be waiting. Bridge out,” Wheeler said. She turned to Tyra and nodded. “Until the CO and Chief Councilor wake up and are cleared for duty, the chain of command falls to me and you respectively.”
Tyra nodded. She hadn’t thought about that.
“You might want to check in with the other councilors and come up with a plan of action for after we neutralize the remaining invaders.”
“Good idea.” It was hard to think long-term when the short-term was still so uncertain. She remembered the empty operations room. The CIC was buried deep inside Hubble Mountain—not too far from the shelters in the base of the mountain. If the Faros had made it that far, then Lucien would have run into them, and if that were the case... then it might explain why he hadn’t answered her comms call earlier. Her worries about Lucien and her daughters surged to the surface, and Tyra placed a call to Lucien once more.
This time he answered, and relief washed over her. “Tyra—I was just about to call you. I’m on my way down to the hospital with Atara.”
Tyra’s relief evaporated in an instant, and her heart leapt into her throat. “What? What happened?”
“The Faros took over the shelter. Their leader had some kind of personal vendetta with me or... something. He claimed we share the same name, and he wanted me to choose between saving our girls and all of the other people in the shelter.”
Tyra’s whole body went cold. The air felt thick. It was suddenly impossible to breathe. “What did you choose?” she whispered.
“I didn’t. Brak took him by surprise and rescued the girls. The alien went after them, and so did I. I managed to kill the Faro, but not before he got his hands on Atara. He did something to her, and now she’s in a coma.”
Tyra glanced back to Chief Ellis and the ship’s commanding officers. Whatever the aliens had done to them, they’d done to Atara as well.
“Which hospital are you going to?” Tyra asked.
“Winterside General.”
“I’m on my way,” Tyra replied. “See you soon.” She ended the comms there and turned to Commander Wheeler. “It’s my daughter, she’s...”
Wheeler nodded curtly. “Go. There’s not much you can do here, anyway. I’ll get you on the comms if I need you.”
“Thank you,” Tyra breathed. She ran off the bridge in an awkward loping gait thanks to her mag boots, but before long she had the hang of running in them, and she was pounding down the corridors faster than she’d ever run in her life.
Chapter 15
Astralis
Lucien watched as the door swished open and Tyra burst into the room. Her eyes met Lucien’s first, then found Theola in his arms.
She reached with chubby baby arms for her mother. “Mama!”
“I’m here, sweetheart!” Tyra ran to them and folded them both in a big hug. She kissed each of them and then took Theola from Lucien.
Lucien smiled tightly and returned his attention to their other daughter, lying in the bed in front of him. Her eyes were shut, and her expression peaceful, but carved in stone. She hadn’t so much as twitched since arriving at the hospital half an hour ago. Wires and an IV line trailed from her bed. Monitors beeped rhythmically around her, indicating that her life signs were strong. There’d been no signs of injury, and her brain scans had come back clean, but if all of that was true, then why hadn’t she woken up? So far none of the doctors could answer that.
Tyra walked quietly around the bed and placed a hand on Atara’s forehead. “Oh, Atty...” she whispered as tears fell from her cheeks and landed on Atara’s pillow.
Theola reached down, as if to place a hand on her sister
’s forehead, too. Theola was back to her usual self, having somehow forgotten all about the gruesome events she’d witnessed. Lucien hoped it would stay that way.
“Do they know what’s wrong with her?” Tyra asked.
He shook his head. “We’re still waiting on the results from the latest tests. The doctors say she should wake up soon, but...” Lucien trailed off, not wanting to give voice to more negative possibilities.
“Well, whatever it is, there are a lot of people working on the problem by now. The Faros did the same thing to the command staff on the bridge.”
Lucien blinked. “What? Why didn’t you mention that when I called?”
“I was worried about you and the kids at the time.”
“That might change the prognosis,” Lucien said.
“How?” Tyra asked, wiping her cheeks on the back of the hand that wasn’t holding Theola.
Lucien grimaced, wondering how much he should say. “Before that alien ran after the girls, he threatened me, saying because I couldn’t make my choice, he was going to make it for me.”
Tyra scowled. “What choice? Our girls’ lives for the lives of the other hostages?”
Lucien nodded. “The implication is—”
“That he killed my little girl?” Tyra’s cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed. She turned and pointed to Atara’s brain monitor. “She’s not brain dead, Lucien! And I don’t see any mortal wounds, so she’s fine.”
“No, you’re right.” Lucien nodded quickly. “But if they did the same thing to the command staff, then what do you think it was?”
Tyra hesitated.
“Mom...? Dad?” It was Atara’s voice.
Lucien’s heart jumped in his chest, and he ran to Atara’s side to hold her hand. She raised her head, blinking bleary eyes as she looked around the room.
“It’s okay, Atty,” Lucien said. “We’re here.”
Tyra’s tears fell anew as she stroked her daughter’s head. “You’re awake,” she said, smiling broadly.
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