Drowned by Fire (Tales of a Dying Star Book 4)

by David Kristoph

  "How are they moving the batteries?"

  "Tied to the underside of aircraft with rope," she said, "same as their attack on the Wall. Except now they're more cautious, moving only one or two batteries forward at a time. They don't seem to be in a hurry."

  "They're waiting for us to counterattack," Jayce said. "They know we have a handful of the Gold remaining, and that we're desperate. As long as they proceed slowly, without moving too many batteries at once, they'll be able to control the skies." He considered the map before pointing. "I see three enemy Riverhawks circling here. What happened to the rest?"

  "They bombed the city for a few hours before returning west, the way they came. Recharging before the final push, most likely."

  That was good news. The remaining six Gold Wing Riverhawks would be shredded against the rooftop batteries, but now that they had the forty city pilots too... their losses would be significant, but with luck they could regain air superiority before the enemy aircraft returned.

  They need a leader. They need strength.

  "We have an opportunity," he said to the entire room. "The Children have split their forces. What's the status on our reinforcements from the other cities?"

  Brynn stepped forward before the operator could reply. "They won't be here for hours longer," she said, face flush with anger. "Juhale and Forssa fell within hours of the command."

  "Defense needs to be focused in Luccar," Jayce said. "This is the only city that matters."

  "You abandoned them. Don't try to justify it in your head."

  Drysane stepped forward, but Jayce stopped her with a hand. Strength. "I will not explain myself to you. My orders cannot be scrutinized and second-guessed. You are the Commander of the Gold Wing, not my advisor."

  She sneered at him, twisting her face in disgust. "You are not the Emperor."

  Maybe he was tired. Maybe he was sick of people telling him who he was or needed to be. Or maybe it was the picture of Karrana on the screen over Brynn's shoulder, eyes staring into him accusingly. Whatever the reason, Jayce slammed his palm down on the nearest table and yelled, "I am the Emperor now!"

  The outburst drained the emotion from her face. The room became very still.

  Jayce took a deep breath. "Or at least the closest thing to an Emperor we have. You can follow my orders, or go surrender to the Children. But either way you will do so quietly." He paused, eyes boring into her. "Now, will you obey your command, Commander?"

  Brynn stared at him a moment longer, with surprise and anger, before nodding. Stiffly, she left the command room.

  Jayce turned to the others. "I want every pilot we have in the air attacking those rooftop batteries. If we can destroy them before the rest of the Children's aircraft return we'll have a chance of holding the city.

  "They may have thousands of soldiers on the ground, but we don't need to defeat them directly. All we need to do is slow their advance long enough for the Chain to crash. That will kill many of them, and hopefully disorganize the rest. If some of the city floods, all the better."

  "Sir," said the petite operator. "The steadfasts are still locked-down throughout the city. When the Chain falls..."

  "There's nothing we can do about them," Jayce said, thinking of Karrana. "Those who survive the crash will figure out to move to higher floors to escape the flooding."

  "We could at least notify them of the danger, request that those in the crash areas move north or south--"

  "No. That will only tip off the Children as well. They'll probably figure it out on their own eventually, but I won't help them to the conclusion. We need the Chain's crash to disrupt them as much as possible. Everything we do until then is to that end."

  They began making preparations. The Chain would fall almost perfectly to the west, the computer claimed, shortly before dawn. Jayce deployed the hundred remaining peacekeepers to the north-west and south-west of Luccar in an attempt to funnel the Children into the Chain's crash zone. Drysane nodded in agreement, and the operators relayed the commands.

  "Throw safety to the wind," Jayce said over the radio as the aircraft began launching. "Be aggressive, destroy the rooftop batteries as quickly as possible. With luck they won't have the equipment to see at night. We need to do as much damage as we can before the enemy aircraft return."

  "Roger that," Brynn said blandly.

  Jayce watched the aircraft move across the city on the three-dimensional map. Already the Chain was tilted at a queer angle. How long until the Children know? They surely don't already, or they would be moving out of its path.

  "You seem to be more proactive in your leadership," Drysane said. "Maybe a bit harsh with Brynn, but it worked."

  "Things are in motion," he said. "We have a plan. It may not be a great one, and Luccar will be half-destroyed by the end, but it's something."

  "And Karrana?"

  He looked over at the monitor. Her face and details were still listed, but the map showed no new location. He didn't want to think about her, had tried to push her from his thoughts, but Drysane saying her name brought fresh pain. He gently shook his head, and thankfully the Vice Admiral said no more.

  Twenty-eight Riverhawks, thirty Widowrens, four Goshawks. Their full strength soared into the air to gain altitude before swooping down against the enemy. Eighteen rooftop batteries waited for them, or so their best data promised. Automated drones had been sent out to keep track of the Children's movements, marking the buildings on the map with menacing red circles, but the enemies shot them down whenever they were spotted.

  Brynn relayed orders to the individual ships, spreading them out against the targets. The room watched the map in silence as the distance between the ships and rooftop lasers shrank.

  "There are a lot of people on my rooftop target," Brynn said over the radio. "Do we have any new drone footage?"

  "Last data was an hour ago, before it was shot down," the operator said, checking one of her other screens. "There were four of the Children on that roof then."

  "There's more now," Brynn said. Then, to the other ships, "Eyes peeled, enemy strength is variable."

  The operator switched to Brynn's nose-camera on the large computer screen. Jayce leaned forward, squinting. At least a dozen people stood among the rooftop garden now, tiny pinpricks glowing red with heat. Something was off about them, something Jayce couldn't quite identify. The heavy laser was visible too, as tall as two men, clamped onto the edge of the rooftop with three legs. A gunman sat behind it, operating the controls. The battery faced a different direction.

  "There's still only one laser battery there," Jayce said over the radio. "You may get some small weapons fire from the others, but that's it."

  The heavy laser pivoted on its stand, turning toward her ship. It fired a few bursts in the general direction, nowhere near hitting the Riverhawk. They can hear the ships but can't see them, Jayce realized. That was a good sign. It wouldn't know where she was until she fired. Hopefully the other batteries were the same.

  The operator switched the view to another ship, one closer to its target. The heavy laser made no move, wasn't even facing the right direction. Jayce held his breath as the Riverhawk fired.

  The lasers cut through trees and bushes and flesh, pounding toward the heavy laser. The beams exploded where they struck metal, showers of sparks flying into the air and drifting to the ground. Children on the roof jumped out of the way as it exploded in earnest, sending a bright fireball puffing into the sky.

  The radio sounded cluttered as each unit acknowledged their engagements. Cries of joy and excitement went up as well.

  The operator switched back to Brynn's ship just as it sprayed a volley of green, raking the rooftop, knocking the huddled shapes to the ground. She adjusted her ship as she fired, the beams punching closer to the heavy laser.

  Suddenly she stopped. "Friendlies on the roof."

  "What?" Jayce blurted.

  "Hostages. They have hostages surrounding the gun. Coming around at a better angle."

/>   She began to pull the Riverhawk up to regain altitude. The heavy battery continued firing, one fat laser at a time, dangerously close now that its operator knew her position.

  Abruptly the camera went black.

  Jayce stared for a moment. "Commander Brynn?"

  One of the computer operators turned around and shook her head.

  "What happened?" Jayce asked.

  "Gold Wing Commander is down," came another radio voice, one of Brynn's wing-mates. "Struck and crashed into the building. Reorganizing the Wing accordingly. Units eight and..."

  "Brynn?" Drysane asked in a small voice, as if she hadn't heard. "Are you there?"

  The petite operator turned around in her chair. "Data confirms unit one lost left-wing pressure before losing altitude."

  "Is there any signal?"

  "We lost contact with her transmitter," she said. "They were over the--"

  "Redirect one of the other groupings," Drysane snapped. "I want another visual confirmation."

  "Drysane..." Jayce said, touching her shoulder. He'd never seen the Vice Admiral so upset. She shook off his hand, eyes intent on the screen.

  Silence stretched before the radio crackled.

  "This is unit four. I have visual confirmation of a crash by unit one. Assuming control in Commander Brynn's absence." His tone changed, speaking to the other ships. "Total strength is now fifty-seven; we lost five in the first volley. Targets eleven, fourteen..."

  Drysane strode from the room without a word, shoving past the two Flameguards at the door.

  "...are the only six targets remaining," said the new Commander on the radio. "Reorganizing ships for a second strafing run from new bearings. Requesting approval to begin strikes on secondary targets as well."

  The operator looked over her shoulder at Jayce.

  I need to see what's wrong with Drysane. "Destroy the final four batteries and then remain in a holding pattern over the city," Jayce said. He took one last look around the room at the confused faces before leaving.

  Charion and the Flameguards followed him down the hall, blessedly silent but for their echoing footsteps. Where had Drysane gone? He reached an intersection. Down the left corridor stood a servant, so Jayce went that way.

  The servant stood in place, confused. Jayce looked a question at him, and the servant pointed to the opposite door leading to the kitchen.

  Jayce glanced inside, then stopped short in the doorway. He paused before turning to his guards. "Wait outside." They obeyed.

  Drysane sat in the corner of the kitchen, by herself, holding her knees to her chin. Her face held no expression, but tears rolled down her cheeks. As Jayce sat next to her he realized she was shaking.

  He'd seen soldiers lose their nerve during battle. It wasn't always intuitive or logical; a man could withstand the stress of battle for hours, only to snap and lose control on the routine return to base. Some simply shut down. Others lashed out violently at those around them.

  Drysane's reaction made no sense to Jayce, but it didn't have to. They'd all been through a lot and she had clearly reached her limit.

  "I'm relieving you," Jayce said softly. "I want you to find one of the thousands of beds in this place and rest."

  She stared at him.

  "We've all been awake too long. There's no shame in losing your nerve. I'm barely holding on myself. The minute I begin thinking of Karrana my hands start shaking and I have to hold onto something tight to make it stop. You saw how I--"

  "It was Brynn," she whispered. "Me and her. Us. She was the answer to your question."

  It took Jayce a long time to realize what she meant. Have you ever loved someone? was what he'd asked her. His eyes widened. "That's why you fled the Olitau so easily, before waiting to see what happened to Admiral Acteon?"

  She nodded.

  "That's why you abandoned your duty? Why you left the flagship leaderless?"

  She nodded.

  "You've been lecturing me about command," he said, feeling his anger rise, "about putting duty above all else. You knew I was leaving the Gold, was planning on seeking out Karrana, and you guilted me into staying, pushed me into command. And all the while you had your own lover safe within arm's reach?"

  Drysane stared at the ground, tears still dripping.

  You called me a coward for wanting to leave, he wanted to say. You're a fucking hypocrite. I shouldn't have been in command. You caused all of this. With the barest of willpower did he hold his tongue.

  He couldn't be near her.

  His boots pounded as he returned to the command room, anger in every step. Just then everything infuriated him: Charion and the Flameguards following, the bowing servant in the hall, the operators in the command room asking him questions before he was through the door.

  Drysane's betrayal, weeping silently on the floor, the image burned into his eyes.

  "Sir," the operator repeated, "enemy ships returning from the west. Ours are still in a holding pattern above the city, awaiting your orders."

  I need to shoot something. I need to fly.

  He took a deep breath. "Gold Wing. We need every pilot we have, so I'll be joining you in my Riverhawk. The city bleeds, and it will only get worse. They have hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers. We have no chance to defeat them all... but we don't need to. When the Chain crashes the flooding will be significant. All we need is to delay the soldiers, make them pay for every block of Luccar they steal. We will stay in the air, slowing the Children down, until the Chain falls or the last of us has fallen from the sky."

  Men and women, young and old, roared with affirmation over the radio. Jayce was flush with pride for them, eager to do as they were commanded. He turned to Charion. "No arguments. Take command until I'm in the air."

  Charion gave a start. "Drysane is..."

  "...incapacitated," Jayce said. "Do not give her any further command, even if my Riverhawk explodes on the launchpad." He held the Shieldwarden's gaze until he nodded.

  He turned to leave... and stopped.

  The computer screen on the left still showed Karrana's face, but the map had changed. The green flag indicator was in a new location, several blocks from the Academy. And, more importantly, now it blinked.

  Jayce stood there, frozen. The petite operator's head swung from him, to the computer screen, and back to him.

  "Pipe that data to my Riverhawk," was all he said before resuming his exit.

  Servants emerged from their respective places to watch him stride through the halls. Some were afraid. Jayce couldn't blame them. Their God was dead, and Jayce was a poor replacement in the interim. The impervious city Walls were breached, the enemy moving toward the palace at that very moment.

  But as Jayce passed by the rows of servants he saw many more who were unafraid. Eyes that were eager, determined. They held their chins high and stood with practiced posture, their confidence in Jayce absolute. He was the Commander of the Gold Wing, interim Emperor, moving to defend the city. To defend the Empire.

  As he walked into the cool night air of the palace courtyard he felt no guilt. For the first time that day he was resolute in his decision. It had filled his heart when he left Drysane weeping on the floor, and coated him like armor the moment he learned Karrana still lived. I'm not listening to anyone else. I'm finally listening to myself.

  He was not joining the Gold Wing above the city. He'd sacrificed enough time to the Empire that day. Karrana lived, somewhere in the Children-held part of the city. He'd failed to protect her so far. That failure ends now.

  To the southwest the Chain leaned like a tree in a storm, lights still glowing all along its length. It looked perfectly functional, if one ignored its tilt. Jayce tried imagining it booming into the ground, the god-like force of such a crash. It defied his imagination; the structure was too large for his brain to accept, no matter how many times he'd made the trip along it.

  He glanced at his wrist-computer. Two hours, maybe.

  The distant sound of air battle reached h
is ears as he climbed into the cockpit.

  Part II: The Shieldwarden

  Chapter 7

  Shieldwarden Pavani raced down the cavernous tunnel backwards, arms spread wide to protect her frail God.

  Lasers barraged the shield extending from her arms, a reminder of the traitors they fled. Men and women who'd forsaken their loyalty to the Emperor and worshiped a dying star. Somehow the fanatics had infiltrated the flagship. Somehow they'd infiltrated the entire base. The beams from their weapons hissed and sizzled, their malicious intent now clear.

  The tunnel opened tall and wide, large enough for construction vehicles to pass through if needed. It connected the shipyard to the Chain, the space elevator that allowed people and supplies to efficiently travel from the planet to its moon. Get to the Chain, Pavani thought through gritted teeth. Then to the planet. She could see the Chain ahead of them, a tall electronic vine climbing away from the moonscape and toward the shadowed planet above.

  The tunnel was separated into segments, each two hundred feet long, divided by walls with doors to allow passage through. They still had several segments to go before they reached the Chain.

  They passed through one such divider, stopping inside where the walls provided cover. "Why have we stopped?" Pavani asked, disabling her electronic shield and lowering her arms. In truth she relished the brief pause. Already she breathed heavy from the effort, her face as flush as the others.

  Julian, the Primeshield, leaned over the Emperor. The God in flesh was bending over, hand on his chest. He coughed loudly, a wet, rasping sound. When he was done he spoke. "I will not be carried. I have some shred of dignity left."

  "It is our duty to protect your life," Julian said carefully, "not your dignity."

  "Then protect it."

  Pavani peered back around the doorway. The men following them were spreading out, taking cover behind various crates lining the corridor. They greatly outnumbered the Emperor's retinue, but for some reason they were cautious. One of them pointed.