“Could you be more specific, old man?” Magnus pressed, pouncing on the information like a hungry tiger. “If somebody’s out there fighting those bloody bastards, I want to know about it! We could really use some help here in the Pleiades.”
“Yeah, I tell ya, big man, but you might not believe—”
The trader’s words were abruptly drowned out by a loud siren sounding in the corridor outside the restaurant.
“Fucking hell!” Magnus swore, reaching into his pocket to pull out the headset he carried at all times. “They’re calling in the fleet. Hang on.”
Flipping on the receiver, he made a quick call to pick up the news being issued by headquarters. “Damn it, I’ve got to go!” Jumping up from his chair, he waved to the waiter and pulled out his wallet, quickly handing the man some money for the meal.
“Jindo, we’ve got a problem over Bandu, but I need to hear more about these League rumors and the mysterious guy who seems to know me. Will you be here when I get back?”
“’Fraid not, boyo,” the Aswani replied. “I already be late for some big tradin’ over Pemba way wif Miz Desta. I done my duty by da scary mage man so he don’t come afta me no more.”
“Then you keep that rickety ship of yours flying and stay out of trouble. I want to see you back here in one piece after you visit Sahara, you hear me? Bring me something cool to buy.” He grabbed Jindo’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It was good to see you, even if you were sent by a scary man.”
“Keep yourself alive, Magnoos boy,” the Aswani replied with a crooked smile. “And don’t you be talkin’ ‘bout me.”
With a nod and a grin, Magnus turned and dashed out of the restaurant, tearing down the corridor as fast as he could around the clots of staring travelers. The siren shut off just as he burst into the vaulted open area and wove through the crowds, racing out the nearest exit onto the pavement bordering the landing fields.
Several large shuttles in front of Fleet Headquarters were filling up quickly with the officers and crewmen from the three starships on leave rotation as well as the Zephyr, technically down for repairs. He and his crew all knew they would only fly the run pending Xiangting’s seal of approval, but had answered the call and come running per fleet emergency protocols.
He jumped aboard the first of the Zephyr’s shuttles seconds before it took off across the concrete. His eyes searched the people running for the neighboring shuttles and caught sight of Hayk and Alasdair racing for the transport that would take them out to the Appin, temporarily docked on Krii’s landing field so Alasdair could attend the morning meeting with the high council.
Magnus squashed down a fleeting moment of heartache which he knew he couldn’t afford as he watched the faces of his friends disappear onto the crowded vehicle. He missed both of them terribly since they’d been given their commissions to lead Caledon’s new vessel. His logical mind understood and supported Miros’s selection of the two bright young officers, but his emotional self hadn’t ever quite come to terms with the loss of their daily companionship.
The shuttle tore across the pavement past several mid-sized craft and as it rounded the imposing hulk of the Corum, the sleek form of the Zephyr came into view. Magnus was dismayed to see that the forward quadrant damaged in the last skirmish was not completely repaired and he tensed with the thought that they might not be able to leave the ground. As soon as the vehicle came to a halt next to one of the open ramps, he bounded to the ground and charged up into the aft cargo hold where the rangy figure of Li Xiangting came running to meet him, his long black braid flipping in the air behind him.
“What’s the status, Xiangting? Can we fly?”
“Yes—I don’t like it, but I’ve given the go ahead to HQ,” the Chi’an engineer nodded with a frown. “I ordered the repairs to be made from the inner sections outward just in case this happened. It’s only the two outermost compartments near the front that are still under construction, but the rest of the ship is airtight—she’ll hold. Just take it easy until you get outside the atmosphere so you don’t rip apart the portions we haven’t finished.”
“Damn, you’re good,” Magnus commended, grateful for the umteenth time for the brilliant young engineer on loan from Chi who had proven to be a godsend for Tarsus’s own strapped technical teams. “So what am I down?”
“The damage didn’t hit any of the propulsion units or you wouldn’t be flying today. I reconfigured the hull arrays so your shield output should be up fifty percent in non-atmospheric conditions. All the forward laser cannons have been overhauled or replaced, except for the outermost port unit which was on the slate to be installed in two days. Sorry.”
“Are you kidding? I’m amazed at what you’ve done in just ten days. We’ll make it work.”
“Alright, I’ve told my teams to pack up and be off the ship in … six minutes,” the Chi’an snapped off, glancing at the nearest clock. “Just bring her back in one piece so we can finish.”
“Yes, sir!” Magnus grinned, slapping the man on the shoulder. “You’re the best, Xiangting.”
“Yeah yeah, I know,” the engineer mumbled with a sideways smile before stalking down the ramp toward the pavement.
As Magnus started across the bay toward the stairs at the back, he flipped his headset to an open channel to make a quick call to his wife. Mara answered after one buzz, her voice shaking with distress. “I heard the sirens—are you leaving?”
“Yeah, Bandu’s been hit. Most of the fleet is already over there.”
“Come home to me, Mag.”
“I will. Give Kahl a squeeze for me. I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too. Be safe.”
Magnus swallowed hard as he switched off the link. No matter how many times he went through this, somehow it never got any easier to say goodbye to her. With a quick shake of his head, he sped up three flights of stairs two at a time, hurrying down the long corridor to the bridge at the heart of the ship.
The moment he entered the softly lit room with the bright holo of Tarsus shining at the center, Hurik’s head rose expectantly from the command console. “Are we—”
“We got the ok from Xiangting—we’re going,” he confirmed quickly, glancing around the room at the still-empty stations. “Crew status?”
“We’re at thirty-six percent so far, Captain. Crew members are still pouring in from shuttles and over the ramp from HQ.”
“Thanks, Hurik,” he mumbled with an inward groan as he sat down next to his proper first officer. The woman was sharp, had quick reflexes, solid judgment, was an outstanding officer on all counts, but he still couldn’t get her to call him by his first name, a small point which made Al’s absence all that much more pronounced.
Magnus switched his headset to monitor the admiral’s open channel connecting the four ships and scanned the screens across the console, watching each one come to life as his crew arrived and ran through emergency lift-off protocols at break-neck speed. Within a few short minutes, the Zephyr was humming and ready to run. As the last of the bridge officers flew into the room, he glanced aside at the screen Hurik hovered over intently.
“Ninety-six percent, Captain,” she relayed briskly. “All critical personnel present and at their stations.”
Magnus pulled down his mic and switched to a ship-wide link. “Alright everyone—outstanding response time. We have the green light to fly with the Corum. Bandu is under full assault, both portals. All hands stand ready for battle. Strap yourselves in or stay close to the grips.”
Switching off the link, he turned toward his tactical officers. “Rob, the tech team didn’t get one of the forward cannons mounted.”
“Yep, I see it didn’t load on my screens. We’ll make do with the other two on that side.”
“They’ve all been recalibrated so you should see better performance over last time.”
“Great—Xiangting, right?” Rob nodded with satisfaction as he made adjustments to the controls in front of him.
“You got
it. Thora, you should also see a drastic improvement on shields,” Magnus advised across the consoles as his headset crackled with Miros’s voice issuing orders. “The Corum’s ready for lift-off. Rhona, follow her up to the gate behind the Loki and Appin,” he said with a nod to the navigation officer at the console beside Hurik. “Take it nice and slow. We’re under orders from the Master Engineer not to mess up his handiwork.”
Magnus adjusted the holo to a view of the Corum rising up off landing field, followed moments later by the other two starships. The pavement next to the long wings of headquarters looked bleakly empty as the Zephyr lifted off and turned to bring up the rear of the ascending party of ships.
As Rhona navigated the Zephyr along the coordinates up through the portal locks, the Corum disappeared through the transport gate with the Loki and Appin following closely behind.
“Thora, shields up the instant we’re through. Rob, Ari, be ready to fire,” Magnus ordered. “Rhona, takes us through.”
As the Zephyr headed into the Tarsian gate and emerged out of the ring over Bandu, the radiant reddish glow of Merope’s mid-sized fifth planet filled the holographic space at the center of the room. The twin portals of the arid world were situated in close proximity within the same quadrant, directly above the two largest land masses where the bulk of the population was concentrated.
Magnus shifted the holo into a close-up view of the primary portal and a separate view of the secondary portal while the sensors took energetic readings. The flickering light of disruptor discharge from Drahkian ships sweeping through the Pleiadian array blossomed through the main holo like strings of mini fireworks. The Meropean vessels ranging across the space between the orbiting stations held their ground, sending a blitz of beams up into the swooping warships while Ki’an and Tarsian starships blasted from behind, driving the invaders away from the locked grid. Predictably, the warships vanished just beyond the portal’s perimeter and reappeared several miles out where numerous bands of dark gray discs hung in suspension above Bandu’s grid, just far enough away to make it foolhardy to go after them.
Magnus shook his head in disgust. This same pathetic scenario had played itself out time and time again—the huddled Pleiadian sheep waited over the portal to be swarmed by packs of circling rabid wolves who could appear and disappear at will. It was maddening and absurd, like a dream gone terribly wrong on endless replay, and there wasn’t a damned thing any of them could do about it.
“By the Prime,” Hurik whispered as her eyes scanned over the flocks of warships. “So many.”
“Yep. With every new conquest, the bastard gains more wealth to expand,” Magnus growled, muting his mic and shifting the admiral’s channel to speaker so the bridge officers could follow his reports and orders.
“Amara’s got every single Meropean vessel on the field, spread over the two portals,” Miros’s deep voice relayed. “Tanamar brought in thirty-two Birdwings and we’re the last of the Alcyoni vessels to come through. Looks like Salaal’s up to the same old shit.” The undertone of aggravation in the admiral’s voice was evident. Miros was a brilliant man and Magnus knew that he and the other two admirals were at their wits’ end to come up with effective tactics against the ruthless invaders and their disruptive technology.
“There don’t appear to be any gate dogs waiting for us this time,” Al noted across the link.
“Nope, doesn’t look like Salaal cares how many of us come through,” the admiral grumbled. “He’s got at least a dozen new ships out there from the counts Amara gave me.”
“Then they’ve got more than we do for the first time,” Asta observed sourly. “That doesn’t bode well for Bandu.”
“Tanamar’s directing the forces over the second portal, including all of our Chi’an and Niemian ships. We’ll slide in down below to assist Amara’s forces and our Ki’an and Tarsian vess—hang on.” Miros’s voice paused as he tuned into a separate relay. “Another Birdwing contingent is about to come through. We’ve got to move, people.”
As the flagship shifted down and away from the gate, the Zephyr banked gently to take up a position alongside the other two Tarsian ships behind the larger vessel. Magnus shifted his gaze to the console screen showing the view of the gate behind them just as the bright golden flash of the lead Birdwing shot through the ring like a burnished bullet. A heartbeat later, a second ship pushed through, followed by six more bursts of light until the entire wing of graceful ships hovered in space above the Tarsian vessels.
“Sorry we’re late, Admiral,” Yuri’s voice broke in over the channel. “We just got back from Caph and heard there was trouble over here.”
“Glad to have you,” Miros responded. “We’ll be—”
“Incoming!!” Asta barked as a cluster of six dark gray discs swept in from the flank of the Loki and opened fire on the Tarsian vessels.
“Hold on, people!” Magnus shouted to his officers, grabbing the grip bars on his console as the Zephyr rocked. A glance at Thora’s startled face as she scanned over her readings told him Xiangting’s improvements to their shields were working their magic. The officer raised her eyes to his and shook her head. “Not a scratch, Captain,” she reported. “Holding steady.”
The large forward viewscreen on Magnus’s console blazed with light as the Birdwings showered the warships with return fire. The Drahkian ships ceased their bombardment under the Maians’ barrage, veering away from the Tarsian vessels to disappear once again.
“Well, I guess they’re not too happy we came to join the party after all,” Miros declared. “Let’s take this away from the gate, folks. They need us down there over the portal.”
“Rhona, keep us in formation behind the Corum until we’re given new orders,” Magnus charged. “Rob, Ari, stay alert in case that warband comes back.”
As the Zephyr angled away to follow the flagship in its descent toward the battlefield, Magnus’s headset beeped softly and Yuri’s voice came through on a private channel.
“You’re ship’s looking a bit worse for the wear and tear, Mag,” the Tori chided, knowing full well what had happened in the last skirmish over Bandu ten days prior.
“We’re flying,” Magnus retorted. “At least my ship’s bigger than yours, birdman.”
“It’s not the size that counts,” Yuri needled in a silky voice. “Watch out, Mag—I’ve got your tail in my sights.”
“Shut up, you kinky bastard.”
Flipping off the channel to the sound of Yuri’s laughter, Magnus glanced aside and was surprised to see a smile playing at the side of Hurik’s mouth as she studiously poured over her readings. There was hope for the woman yet, he thought with a silent sigh, pulling himself forward in his chair.
As the party descended, the holo lit up with the weapon fire from another attack, this time from three groups of warships sweeping in from incoming points just beyond the portal. Sparks flew from the rear quarter of one of the Ki’an ships that had darted in with two other vessels to fire on one of the enemy bands.
“The Jutsu’s taken a hit,” Hurik noted, her eyes glued to the images weaving through the holo.
“Yeah, I know, but she’s still in one piece. Let’s hope they’re—yesss!” Magnus exclaimed, slapping his hand on the console as two Meropean vessels blasted the warband that had turned to take another pass at the wounded ship. The side of one of the discs burst into flames and the ship dropped like a stone toward the portal’s grid, exploding in a shower of light as soon as it hit the energetic field.
As the Tarsian party dropped the last few thousand feet toward the portal, the open channel crackled as Miros pulled Amara Tungo’s frequency into the link.
“By the Prime, are we glad to see all of you,” the Meropean admiral exclaimed. “Salaal’s been hanging back to watch ever since they got here, sending in sweeps like that last one, probably just to test out the skills of his newest captains,” she complained, clearly irritated at the thought of their fleet being used for target practice.
&nbs
p; “Any runs on the portal?” Miros queried.
“No, not yet. The ships he sent in must not be equipped to burn through the locks. I expect him to unleash the rest of his mongrels any time, especially now that you’re here.”
Magnus exchanged a look with Hurik and shook his head. The Drahkian warlord had never acknowledged the Meropean admiral and had probably held back his full assault until a leader arrived whom he deemed worthy of crushing. “Damned peacock wants an audience for his bloodbath,” he spat with disgust.
“A male audience,” Hurik corrected softly.
Miros growled with exasperation over the channel. “Alright, folks, let’s get to work. Yuri, take your wing on a random course just outside the perimeter and break up the Drahkian formations whenever you can. Asta, you’re with me. We’ll join the Meropean forces defending across the portal. Magnus, Al, you two start a sweep over the portal stations.”
“Got it,” Magnus acknowledged, muting his mic to issue orders to his officers. “Rhona, open a direct link with Jeanie Campbell on the Appin to coordinate our movements with theirs—you take the lead. Set a course as soon as we’re in range of the closest station and keep it haphazard so we’re not an easy mark.”
“Aye, Captain,” the red-headed Caledoni confirmed, her fingers flying over the console to set up the new path.
Magnus opened a second channel to the Appin and put it on speaker. “Al, you and that lazy first officer ready to roll?”
“Nah, but the rest of these people seem to know what they’re doing,” Al’s voice drawled over the com.
“Take him back, Mag, please. We’ll gift wrap him,” Hayk teased as the two ships banked into their new course, passing over the first blinking portal station.
Opening a third holo to display the paths of the two ships, Magnus laughed. “Not a chance, Hayk. Hurik doesn’t whine as much as he did,” he retorted, flashing his blushing first officer a roguish grin. Her small smile faded quickly as she studied the large holo of the portal space and perimeter.
“Captain,” she said with a quivering voice. “They’re coming—all of them.”
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