“The planetwide catastrophe could have caused it,” JC speculates.
“This device needs DNA and someone to metamorphosis into the shape of the key to unlock this door. It takes one of Ki-Ton’s people to proceed further.”
They will kill us, Commander. JC’s thoughts float into his mind. He crouches to peer into the hole.
“My death is assured if we don’t retrieve the princess.”
Before the pain stick stings Reynard, the tiger rider spins to address whooping howls. Crashing through the trees, more nine-foot humanoids barrel into the tiger riders, only these men ride bear creatures. The tiger rider ignores his captives and races back to his mount.
For whatever reason, Reynard’s mind catches that the brown fur hides of the bears match the skins decorating many of the tiger riders where the bear riders sport cloaks for the greenish tiger skin. Blood enemies. They slaughter each other.
Trapped between the carnage, Reynard fumbles with the lock hole. “I’m open for suggestions for the winner of this fray won’t have a use for us.”
Joe, restrained over the back saddle of a tiger, slips from his bonds.
“Ki-Ton’s the only person meant to saunter through.” JC reaches out with her mind. Her thoughts drift inside the mountain.
She flies back as if struck by an invisible club in the gut. Reynard catches her before her head impacts the ground.
He slaps her cheek, attempting to revive her. “What happened?”
Her eyes flutter uncontrollably. “Darkness,” she moans. She digs her fingernails into his arm. Even with his leather jacket the sting of claws on Reynard’s bicep hurts from her grip. JC’s eyes open covered by black cataracts, if something beyond reality consumes her. “Let the princess go. What’s beyond…don’t release it.”
She slumps lifeless in his arms.
Reynard sucks in a breath—calm. He glances to his sword brother for support in reminding him of his training.
Joe uses the attack as an advantage over the arrogance undoing the tiger riders. Perceiving no threat in the smaller humanoids, they failed to disarm the crew. Despite confiscating Joe’s four swords, they never searched him for his other weapons. Part of his Calthos training in weapons concealment allows him to hide weapons in garments designed to camouflage. While many of his knives may only cause flesh wounds in the riders, they serve other useful purposes.
Joe has seconds to assess the growing conflagration. The bear riders outnumber the better-equipped tiger riders. The tiger riders are a greater threat to the crew if they survive the battle. Joe grips his long-bladed dagger in his bottom left hand. It takes three arms to pin back the neck of a warrior in order to repeatedly stab at vital neck veins.
With the tiger rider fallen, Joe retrieves his blades despite being mere knifes to his opponents. He now defends against the blows of the curved swords they carry. Joe locks steel with another tiger rider. With demonic speed the master Calthos warrior buries the sword in a second tiger rider before he’s able to impale Joe on his scythe weapon. In fan twists Joe drives his weapons through the third tiger rider, paving the way for the bear riders to overwhelm them.
The honed rock door slides open.
Reynard loses track of his sword brother in the battle occupying the natives.
JC jumps awake. “Commander!”
He steadies the telepath. “Now’s our chance to find Michelle.”
“Pandora,” JC warns.
The name had meaning for Earth-born humans before they learned they were actually Osirian. Knowledge means many myths, however deluded through history, advert to truth. Gods could travel among the heavens—in spacecraft. What other myths were fallacious?
“I go in—I release all the evils into the galaxy?” Reynard confirms.
“I saw it. I’ve seen what you release and what happens to us up to the point at which it costs me my life,” JC pants.
“I try to believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” Lewis Carroll had no idea. I see things every day beyond impossible. Trust in something yet beyond my understanding. Give up my oath to protect an innocent girl, who would be dead now if I hadn’t shanghaied her. I need to trust my crew. They live in this epoch. Getting a future vision is actually one of the more believable items I’ve experienced today.
“I have to get her back. All the ground Ki-Ton cost us. All the people we destroyed who weren’t our enemies. I can’t fix. But I’ll defend a scared girl I promised to protect.”
JC wobbles on her long legs. “I support you, Commander. Nothing undoes this choice. It shapes every action for the rest of your life.”
“I won’t let the princess die. Is the future you witnessed written in stone? I won’t risk—”
JC cuts him off. “We must go before the door closes.”
“You didn’t open it?” Reynard questions. Too many questions demand answers before he makes a command decision.
“Only one person could open it.”
“Ki-Ton.” Australia paces forward.
“You can’t.” JC holds up her palm, meaning “stop.”
“We can’t leave her out here,” Reynard protests.
The clash. Neither tiger nor bear riders make any headway with edged weapons. One tiger rider ignites a pain stick, sending a bear rider into convulsions and giving the tiger riders an edge they haven’t had before.
“Reynard, the door closes.” JC slips inside.
“I will be fine, Commander.” Australia stands firm before cowering in the shadowy corner of the cave.
Reynard swallows hard. He failed Leahla. He won’t let Australia face a senseless death as the poor cadet did. Don’t think. He bolts into the opening before he reconsiders leaving his first officer.
“She’ll be fine. Joe will protect her.” JC travels ahead of him as if she’s been here before.
“I know The Eir Basilica gives the impression of being oracular, but telepaths aren’t clairvoyant.”
The tunnel floor has a slow inclining grade even in the dim light.
“Reading thoughts does make one a bit prophetic, but the vision I had came from someplace else. I was inside the thoughts of someone who had already lived in the future.”
“So Ki-Ton’s a time traveler now?”
“No. Time is a humanoid invention. Actual movement beyond now would involve vast mathematic calculation based around gravitational constant of planetary positioning.”
“You’ve an understanding?”
“I’ve scanned the minds of many humanoids. I had to examine a group of scientists once as a kind of fact check before they were granted more funds. Their patrons wanted to know they could do what they were researching.”
“They invented a time machine?”
“No. They had sound theories but under their calculations an energy source of a G-class star would be needed.”
“Do you retain knowledge you scan?”
“If I scan Scott, I don’t retain his propensity for mechanical repairs. But if I read his mind on how to fix a burnt-out component and then perform the task, I should be able to duplicate it.”
“So you do, in a way.”
“There are stories of telepaths with a much higher rating than me who steal thoughts. It is a terminal offense.”
“A lot of your telepath laws end in death.”
“They burnt women they thought were witches on your planet.”
“In much more primitive times.”
“All cultures are primitive when it comes to something they don’t understand.”
“Invading someone’s personal thoughts has to hold a severe punishment, or they will return to burning telepaths at the stake.”
The tunnel opens into a chamber. It could be a greeting hall without a communal table or seating arrangements.
“Shape-shifters don’t need chairs,” JC says.
“You in my head again?”
“No. But it’s logical to assume you want to know why there’s not a bench in this room.�
�
“It’s no wonder people don’t trust telepaths if you are so perceptive even without reading thoughts.”
THE MEMBERS OF the Deliverance bridge crew face their captain with full attention.
Kantian shifts his weight to the back of his heels. Now he faces his moment of trust in Admiral Easter. Upon her undocumented word, he puts his career and the fate of the Confederation on the line.
“We face the cusp of a new conflict. The Tri-Star Federation and the UCP armistice treaty expired. You have trained and trained for a combat. I have hoped we would never have to test your skills, but now the Mokarran are slaughtering their own citizens on Summersun. These are not revolutionists; these are innocents who have done nothing to provoke such action. People with no means to defend themselves die at the hands of tyrants.”
He handpicked his bridge crew not only for their nearly perfect Academy scores but for belonging to species decimated by the Mokarran war machine. When one stacks the deck, it is easier to bluff. The virgin warriors before him are driven by revenge against the monsters who decimated their home worlds. Most have lost family directly from Mokarran-induced slaughter.
“I have no orders. The UCP Senate and our five vice-presidential admirals are not yet aware of this slaughter to even contemplate a ruling.”
He adjusts his posture to stiffen his back and raise his shoulders. “I have yet to report this attack, just having learned of it myself. Once I report it and the UCP Command rules an action, I am bound by my oath to follow orders. I will follow my orders no matter what my personal beliefs are. My duty as a UCP soldier ranks first in my heart.” He glances over the faces of each of the bridge crew. He has them ready to pounce on the hook.
“I offer you…any of you who feel they must receive the approval of the UCP Command to report to your quarters with no disciplinary action or retribution placed on your record.”
No movement.
“Without orders I am going to defend those who cannot defend themselves. My actions will undoubtedly be the conception to a war with the Mokarran unauthorized by the UCP Command. I remind all of you of your oath to the UCP. You must relieve me of my command if you believe wholeheartedly that my actions make me unfit for duty.”
Kantian notes all of them have swallowed the hook. They want to exact revenge. They want do what they have been training to do and protect the innocent. With the backing of his crew and their survival of the battle, he may only be dismissed from his command and avoid prison if Easter has calculated incorrectly.
“Course, Captain?” the helm officer requests.
Now to keep his crew alive.
“Prep for a hyperspace jump. The Mokarran won’t be expecting us to intercede. There have been large numbers of dropships bringing in Mecat Lancers recently to resupply.”
“Covenant, Sir.”
“Civil unrest attracts mercenaries, but so does hunger. Rumors of Mokarran burning crops have been circulating. Even more than credits, mercenaries want food.”
“They want to be paid if they do engage in conflict.”
“Not our problem. Our concern is those citizens who have no means to protect themselves. I want a hyperspace jump point inside the solar system. I want us just outside the planet’s gravity well.”
“I will need time to calculate a precise action, Sir.”
“We need surprise to achieve victory. Silence all outgoing communications. Have all Tri-Wing fighters fully prepped, and once in hyperspace, ready all pilots. Preprogram the launch bay doors to open once we have fully metalized back into reality. All fighters will disembark and target the nearest Mokarran battle cruiser. Bring our main guns online and fire all weapons. In those few confusing seconds. I want to cripple communications. Broadcast on all frequencies that the UCP has arrived to assist. Stir up anyone on the surface who opposes the Mokarran. After their initial run on the cruiser, the fighters should break off the attack and engage any Mokarran Tri-Wings.”
“Sir, the Mokarran have a history of eliminating civilians during battle.”
“I’m fully aware of said tactics.” Kantian’s confidence wanes for a full second. “We need to deploy our marines where they accomplish the most good. I won’t just launch landing craft. For boots on the ground to be effective, they must go where they’ll be most effective. Indicial fighting will reveal where to deploy them. I won’t waste the lives of my crew.” Even if I need a UCP present on the surface to lay claim.
The bridge returns to life with everyone initiating their part to follow Kantian’s plan. They want a victory over the Mokarran. They need to save Summersun families because no one could save theirs.
“Sir.”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“If I could suggest. The slaughter of civilians in the capital city would be a prime location to send in a wave of marines. It could spark the mercenaries into action and let the people on the surface know we are here to help. Plus the launching of troop transports once we exit hyperspace will give the Mokarran less of an opportunity to target the craft.”
“You have a strong assessment of tactics, Lieutenant. How many transports would you suggest?”
“I would launch all we have. This will be your only second the Mokarran won’t be expecting. Once we open fire, we will have no more chances for surprise.”
“I calculated the chances of sending transport craft to the surfaces as eight out of ten chance of failure once we engage the enemy,” Dar’Jeryd confirms.
“My tactics may require some marines to infiltrate the battle cruiser or defend this ship in case they infiltrate us. We have no support, nor will any reinforcements be arriving. We’re on our own, and even if the mercenaries pick our side, they won’t be backing us up.” Kantian mashes his temple with his forefinger. “Your observation is a correct one. Troops not launched in opening second may not make it to the surface. Are we sure the capital city will be their most effective landing point? Inspiration is prized, but establishing a beachhead would be valuable.”
“The Mokarran are densest in the capital.”
“Launch eighty percent of the fully loaded transports. I want the rest to remain on high alert to repel any boarders.”
“You won’t have the force to penetrate the battle cruiser, Sir.”
“We’ll have to duke it out with the main cannons and weaken those shields before he could even land a transport.”
“Sir, I fully support this course of action, but I would be neglect in my duties if I did not point out we are spreading ourselves too thin in a combat situation with an overwhelming number of enemy combatants.”
“I know what I said about no backup, but I have hopes our actions will spark a UCP response. I don’t believe we were ordered to the edge of the Summersun system to practice war exercises. I think there are those in the UCP Command who want us to uncover evidence, allowing us to engage the Mokarran. I refuse to wait for them to debate. We’re on the flagship. If it’s destroyed, the military will lose face. I grew up watching grallatorial fights on my planet. They would pit criminals against these bear creatures. If the inmate survived, he was released. The teeth would shred the criminals. Others would face off against the bears for sport or prizes. And also to show the bear could be defeated, because no criminal ever seemed to. As a teen I had to perform my required community service at the retirement facility. I discovered my favorite bear fighter was an old man in my town who I had watched all those years. As I bathed the old man, I noticed he had no scars from teeth. I saw him get bit. I watch blood. The bear’s teeth had been pulled for the noncriminal fights. I tell you this because the UCP won’t become a toothless bear. Once people see we have bite, we’ll never watch a bear fight again.”
Kantian eases into his chair, giving him a full view of the bridge. He secures his harness. The bridge officers do the same. Some even have bracers attached to the arm rests to keep their hands in place in the event the gravity fluctuates—essentially, keeping their fingers on the triggers during a firefight.
“I have the plot course you requested, Captain.”
Kantian flips open the inner-ship comm channel.
A klaxon whishes, signaling to all hands a message will follow.
“This is your captain; we have received numerous distress calls from the planet Summersun where the Mokarran are slaughtering civilians. Prepare for battle stations. We are going to engage.” Under no UCP Command orders, he neglects to add. Knowing in the end he and maybe a few of the bridge crew will face a court-martial.
He flips the comm channel off. “Ensign, activate the hyperspace engines.”
The star field visible through the main view ports ripple into streaks of light until they stream past the ship like millions of shooting stars. The stars shift into the ever-changing wavers of life. A constant shifting of light patterns consisting only inside the underlying dimension of hyperspace. The nearly six light years to the Summersun system would take even the Deliverance’s nonhyperspace engines a few thousand years to reach. With the incursion through unstable hyperspace back into normal space, traversing the six light years takes fewer than twenty minutes. Just enough time for the marines to be fully outfitted and prepared to launch in their transports. Tri-Wing pilots also prep their fighters for launch. Medical personnel report to the medical bays and secondary medical stations. Gun crews run final checks on all weapons platforms. Hazard teams visually inspect all hatchways to ensure they seal preventing full decompression of the Deliverance. Engineers divert power from all noncombat-related systems.
An Ensign with security insignias on his uniform touches a wall panel behind the captain’s station. It slides open to reveal a collection of identical blaster pistols already encased in a holster designed to fit the UCP uniform. He passes one out to each bridge officer. If the Deliverance were to be infiltrated, they would repel boarders. Kantian would never allow infiltration. He has already programed an emergency maneuver into the computer. Listed as his final battle command program, it will lock the Deliverance onto the nearest enemy cruiser and bring the engines to full thrust turning the ship into the most ancient and effective of siege weapons—the battering ram.
Enter the Sandmen Page 30