Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon

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Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon Page 1

by Jake Macklem




  Truehearts

  &

  The Escape From

  Pirate Moon

  The Truehearts Books

  Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon

  Truehearts & The Cosmic Cube

  Truehearts

  &

  The Escape From

  Pirate Moon

  Jake Macklem

  &

  Sean Alexander

  Copyright © 2021 by Jeremy Macklem

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright holder. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover Art © Vivid Covers | www.VividCover.com

  Contents

  1: Ace

  2: Ace

  3: Ace

  4: Ace

  5: Cam

  6: Ace

  7: Cam

  8: Ace

  9: Cam

  10: Ace

  11: Cam

  12: Ace

  13: Cam

  14: Ace

  15: Cam

  16: Ace

  17: Cam

  18: Ace

  19: Cam

  20:Ace

  21: Cam

  22: Ace

  23: Remy

  24: Cam

  25: Ace

  26: Remy

  27: Cam

  28: Ace

  29: Remy

  30: Cam

  31: Ace

  32: Remy

  33: Cam

  34: Ace

  35: Ace

  1: Ace

  Ace Hart walked down the center of the transport ship, holding her helmet under her arm, making eye contact with each of her STARs—Strategic and Tactical Aerospace Rangers—acknowledging each one by name: “Clark. Hurd. Rapkins. Lazar. Gutierrez...” She reached the end of the line. They’re good, but I never thought we’d get this far together.

  “We get in and out, quick and clean.” A tight-lipped smile formed on her lips. “This is it shankholes—our last mission—then we all get to go home.”

  “Hoo-Ra,” the platoon responded with enthusiasm.

  Smith stood up. A blond Viking of a woman, she towered over the rest of the team. “STARs burn bright and fade fast. It’s always been that way… until us!”

  “Hell yeah!” “Damn right!” some of the STARs cat-called.

  “We all know why there are so many of us left.” Smith’s eyes fell on Ace.

  What are you doing, you brute? Ace tried to glare Smith down, but the big woman looked away from her commander.

  “Hart has pulled all our asses out of the fire more than once. We’re the best there is, and she’s the best of us.” Smith refused to face her friend and leader. “Hoo-ra!”

  “Hoo-ra!” The STARs started stomping their feet. Ace slipped on her combat helmet to hide the color on her cheeks. I’ll get you for this, Smith. She did not like compliments. She held up her hand, trying to get them to stop, but it just encouraged them. If you understood me at all, you wouldn’t be cheering.

  Smith shouted over the noise and it abruptly ended, “There are fourteen of us. We are the biggest class of STARs ever to survive their four-year term—and it’s because of Ace.”

  Stupid hussies. I was using you. It was about staying alive and making it back to Earth. How do you still not get that?

  The intercom static cut the moment short, “Final approach.”

  Thank the Verse. “Alright hussies, enough with the feelings. We are in neutral space on our way to a small pirate outpost. Intel says that on top of the usual drugs and weapons, they are smuggling slaves. Command wants us to shut it down. They won’t bomb because of the slaves so we’re here to do the job. There may be some of the higher-ups in Crossbones. And as always, we are looking for intel. Command wants them alive if possible.”

  “Who comes up with these names?” Smith rolled her eyes

  “Someone with a limited vocabulary. Probably a Colonel?” Ace answered, to the laughter of the soldiers around her.

  “Once we touch down, we will split into three teams and advan—”

  The transport ship shook violently and Ace grabbed the wall for support. Smith slammed into the deck next to her but the other STARs were strapped in.

  The intercom cut through the ship. “We are under fire! Taking evasive action.” The ship veered wildly.

  We’re too high for small arms fire! Ace hit the intercom. “Pilot, where is that coming from?”

  The ship jolted violently. Screams and shouts combined with the wind of explosive decompression. Ace turned to see a gaping hole where the front of the transport—and the pilots—had been.

  That’s a problem. Two STARs sat dead in their seats, killed by shrapnel. So much for all of us making it home! Eleven of them left.

  Air resistance had slowed the ship. They could jump. “I got better things to do than die! Prepare to jump. I’m the lead, Smith’s the tail. When I go, stay on my ass and we’ll make it home! You hear me, hussies?”

  Smith held up a fist as the STARs gave their ragged response, “Hoo-Ra!”

  “STARs on me!” Ace shouted and flung herself out the front of the ship, her team following right behind her. The anti-aircraft flak ceased as the transport ship continued to plummet. They think we’re dead. We can get to the ground, but how are we gonna get back off?

  At three kilometers altitude, Ace had a perfect view of the pirate’s base. Bad intel. It’s a full military installation. We never stood a chance! She saw the runway and made out a group of parked fighters. We’ll borrow a ride from them! “I see our way out of here!” Ace said into her headset.

  “You got better vision than me!” Smith crackled back.

  “Alright hussies! We ain’t dead! There are fighters on the runway. That’s where we’re going. Close formation. Stay tight. Evasive approach.” She led them through a series of drops and turns, in a random pattern designed to throw off the computerized radar. Ace and the STARs fell through the sky.

  You’re never more alive than just before you’re dead. Mick’s voice echoed his lesson in her mind. She accepted that the next sixty seconds were probably the last moments of her life. Closing her eyes, she smiled, reveling in the sensation. I don’t think I’m going to make it, Mick.

  Mick’s gravelly voice spoke in her mind. Some folks die and some folks fight to live. What do we do, kid?

  “Let’s shank shit up and take as many of them with us as we can,” Ace answered out loud for her whole team to hear. “Glider wings!” She shouted, activating her wingsuit.

  At 100 meters, small arms fire started whistling around them.

  “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh—” The headset went silent.

  Ten. Ace swallowed. She was not sure who it was and she could not look back to find out. “Get as close to the fighters as you can and as low as you can before opening your chutes!” There was a scream and another STAR tumbled from the formation. Nine.

  Ace spotted a roller flatbed pulling into a warehouse and changed her direction. When she was just fifteen meters above the ground, she informed her team, “Deploying chutes.” Moments later she hit and tumbled, rolling to her feet and pulling her pistol and combat knife.

  The closest pirate looked down in shock at her blade sticking out of his chest. He was even more surprised when she grabbed the handle and spun him in front of her as his buddies opened fire, riddling him with bullets.

  Ace dove to her left and rolled onto her knee, firing her pistol four times. Four pirates fell to the ground dead. There were no others in sight.

  �
�I’m secure. Anyone have a visual?”

  “I see you!” Smith answered. “We’re touching down. Didn’t get as far as you.”

  People ran from the nearby warehouse, pointing and shouting—they did not have weapons, and their clothes were ragged tatters. Slaves! Many ran toward her, hoping for rescue. She knew that was now an impossibility. She pointed her pistol at them and they ran away in fear.

  Ahead of her, she saw a STAR down and rushed over. Bones protruded from Clark’s legs, arms, and torso. She was struggling to breathe. She’s already dead. Not even a nanoshot can save her.

  The woman stared up, unable to ask, but Ace knew what the STAR wanted. I know what I’d want. Ace knelt and held the STARs hand. “I will honor you,” she said and then pulled the trigger twice. Eight

  “Hart, are you dead?” Smith asked.

  Standing, Ace peered down the asphalt; the remaining STARs were regrouping, covering each other and getting their bearings. “Converge on my location. The warehouse has a roller. I’m going for it!” She sprinted straight into the warehouse.

  The pirates were stunned; they expected the lone soldier to run from them, not at them. Ace shot first. And often. She did not give them time to grab their guns or ask for mercy. They were all enemies. Each movement she made caused someone to scream in agony—stabbed, shot, or left with broken bones. She did not bother to finish any of them. You haven’t earned death, you shanksticks! Live and suffer!

  When no one else moved and no more shots were being fired, she ran and hopped inside the huge flatbed roller, broke open the steering column, and hotwired the vehicle. Over the dash, she saw Smith and the remaining STARs running across the tarmac toward her.

  An armored car pulled out of an alley, firing a big automatic; two more STARs fell as the rest scattered. Five

  “Where are you, Hart!” Smith demanded.

  Pumping the gas and tapping the two wires together, Ace got the roller started. “I’m on my way in a big flatbed!” Ace peeled out of the warehouse and headed full speed toward the stopped armored vehicle and the pirates standing around it. She cranked the wheel and gunned the gas, slamming into the roller, knocking it on its side and crushing half the pirates. Mine’s bigger, you shanksticks! The STARs spent little time finishing the remaining pirates. Ace stuck her head out the window and yelled, “Let’s go hussies!” Only five of them left. They leaped onto the flatbed.

  She gunned the gas again, taking fire as she crossed the runway and rolled up to the parked Warthogs. The last STARs ran to the fighter ships. The pirates raced after them in other rollers, opening fire on the closest Warthogs. Ace had just started moving when one of the Warthogs exploded. Four. The flaming debris crashed into its neighbor, causing another explosion. Three

  The four remaining Warthogs took off in formation.

  “Once we break orbit, we’ll be clear!” Smith shouted.

  Ace’s mind raced. We may be off the moon, but we still need help making it home. “Command, do you read?”

  “We’re being jammed,” Smith said. “I think we have been since we approached Ophelia!”

  “Well, shit.” Ace scanned the cockpit instruments; an unknown ship was swinging around from the opposite side of the big moon. “They have a cruiser!” That’s what took us down! It was here the whole time. The cruiser’s energy level started to spike.

  “Hart, they’re firing!” Smith’s voice cracked over the headset.

  Ace barked, “Break on my mark.” Watching her instruments, she waited until the cruiser’s energy profile reached a critical level. “Mark!” Ace jammed her control stick to the right and Smith’s craft followed. The cruiser’s plasma beam disintegrated the two other Warthogs and a shockwave rocked her ship.

  One. Just Smith now.

  “They aren't going to let us get to the jump gate, Hart!” Smith’s voice betrayed her fear.

  Watching her panels, Ace saw the cruiser was preparing to fire its mag cannons. “Scanning the gas giant.” It was a typical giant, with volatile plasma storms, fluctuating magnetic fields, and enormous gravity. Perfect.

  “Stay on my ass, Smith.” Slipping her control stick forward, the fighter dove toward the huge green planet.

  “What’s the plan, Hart?” Smith banked, following close behind Ace. “Ophelia will rip these Warthogs to shreds.”

  “Who’s Ophelia?” Ace asked.

  “The planet!”

  “Whatever. That cruiser won’t fare any better.” Ace pointed the tip of her ship at the horizon, even though she knew the cruiser would get a shot off before they got out of sight. “Follow my entry angle exactly. Once we break into the upper exosphere, on my mark, pull up hard. Don’t break into the Thermo layer—lightning will fry us.”

  “That’s your plan?” Smith did not sound confident. “Not a lot of room for error.”

  “Would you rather get in a shootout with that cruiser? We drop just inside the exosphere and slingshot out the other side. They have to go the long way. It gives us a chance to get to the gate. We can do this, Smith.”

  “You can do this, Ace!” Smith’s voice was on the verge of hysteria.

  She’s losing it. “I ain’t doing this alone, hussy.”

  “You’re a real shank-hole, you know that?” Smith sounded stronger.

  The lights on Ace’s console flashed. “They’re firing their mags!”

  The use of mag cannons was outlawed, but pirates favored them. Dozens of cannons on the cruiser fired, scattering thousands of metal shivs at over half the speed of light.

  “Ignite main thruster!” Ace shouted as she flipped a switch. She was not prepared for the intense pressure from the G’s. Inertial dampers must be damaged. Her blood struggled to reach her brain. Just a few more seconds. Don’t pass out. The ship started to shake under the stress. Blackness crept in on the edges of her vision, then everything went still and quiet. The engine cut off, her main fuel module depleted. As the blood flooded back into her brain, the blackness retreated. Regaining her awareness, Ace realized she had dropped below the exosphere.

  “Smith you with me?” Ace asked, steadying herself. A blur shot past her. Smith’s fighter!

  “I’m here!” Smith’s voice was shaky.

  Beeping and sirens rang out through the cockpit. Looking down, the cacophony of light and alarms from her sensors warned that the magnetically propelled flechettes were closing rapidly. “Smith we have to change course now! Pull up!”

  “Acknowledged,” she responded.

  Ace slammed the stick back and held it. The ship rattled. “Switching to reserves! Thrusters on my mark for a three count!” Ace watched the dropping elevation and the closing pieces of metal. Her hand hovered over the ignitor. If we are going to break loose the angle has to be perfect.

  “My ship can’t take this!” Smith shouted.

  “It will hold!” Ace swallowed. I hope. “Mark!” She slammed the ignitor and the momentum of the ship shifted, the shivs closing even faster. “Shivs incoming!”

  “Shivs?” Smith screamed.

  Waves of lightning flashed through the clouds. Spreading as far as she could see, they looked like a mountain range dotted with glaring peaks. Pretty but deadly. “Barrel roll and accelerate back out of the planet’s exosphere!” Ace slammed the stick and the ship responded.

  “What?” Smith cracked over the headset.

  “Do it!” Ace held her ship in place, building speed as she prepared to propel her ship back into space on the other side of the green gas giant.

  The stick rattled against the bones of her fingers. “Almost there!” Ace felt relief as the exosphere began to thin and the black of space and stars filled the windshield of her fighter.

  “Hart!” Smith cried.

  “Smith!” Little tinking sounds reverberated through the hull of Ace’s fighter. Alarms wailed as a white wave of webbed lightning rushed toward the craft from the planet and washed over the ship. The Warthog’s alarms stopped screaming at her as all the electric devices ceased
functioning. She floated aimlessly in silence. “Smith? Come in?”

  Ace leaned forward in her seat, craning her neck around to scan the area. There was no sign of Smith’s ship, but she did see the cruiser falling toward the planet. That shock wave knocked them out too. What caused that discharge? A pit opened in Ace’s stomach and her throat threatened to never let her breathe again. It was Smith’s Warthog. Smith is dead. Water filled the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. I’m the last one.

  Shank you, Smith! Surprised by her emotions, she swallowed against the knot in her throat. They weren’t strong enough. I am. I’m not gonna die out here. Ace shut down everything and tried to reboot the fighter. Nothing happened. Start, damn it. Start!

  Smith’s gone. She drifted away from the big planet, unsure if she had enough speed to escape its enormous gravity well. The whole team’s dead. In a broken ship, out of fuel, with nowhere to go, she was not sure it really mattered. And I‘m stuck in the black. Shanking great! Exhausted and with no one to impress—the sobbing tears came freely. It was the last mission. It was close, Mick. We almost did it.

  The shaking ship woke her up. Ace realized she had escaped the giant only to be captured by the gravity of one of its moons. Crashing will be quicker than drifting. While she gathered her wits, the ship broke through the clouds, and below was a streaking rush of reds and purples, mountain tops and valleys. She could see bodies of liquid linked by streams and rivers and she saw trees. Life. Maybe oxygen!

  Ace tried to reboot the instruments. Nothing. She worked the control stick; it felt like molasses but the flaps responded. Ace fought the stick as the ship fell out of the sky. I can glide in for a landing… probably.

  2: Ace

  Clink-clink.

  The tripwire! Ace’s eyes popped open.

  The night sky was littered with millions of stars and she knew none of them. Shifting carefully in the nook of branches, a sharp pain ripped through her side. Damn ribs!

  Ace paused to relax and let the agony of it wash over and through her.

 

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