Hard Nova

by Casey Calouette

  Davos leaned over and spoke to a woman with short red hair.

  Claire stared up at her display. The pinpricks marking her soldiers were clustered in tight pockets. Now, more than ever, it was critical that she capture or kill her brother. Once he was gone, the TU officers would have nowhere to hide.

  Davos came to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is he doing?”

  Claire shook her head. “I don’t know. No one knows. He’s the most unpredictable man alive.”

  “He was the best of us once,” Davos said and turned away.

  Claire whispered, “And I wonder if he still is.”

  ####

  Kane watched his monitor as a spec ops team rappelled down a darkened shaft. They fell so swiftly that the weighted lines could barely drop fast enough. The specs ops were all feet down, presenting the smallest silhouette possible.

  His office was lit up with a dozen different screens. All showed different views, different fights, different men and women. On one, it was snowing and the firefight was complete. On another, grenades detonated in an urban zone and the camera suddenly went black. Finally on the last, an interceptor chased after a cloud of drones.

  But his focus was on the team venturing into the subterranean tunnels. His main questions: Could they fight in them? Could they halt the Coalition forces from moving so easily? Gut instinct told him no. Amit insisted they try.

  Tracers zipped past. Still the team dropped. Suddenly the shaft stopped. The spec ops unclipped and went into free fall for the last few meters. More rounds blasted past in all directions. One fell, then another, but the spec ops were drilling one Coalition position after the next.

  Kane held his breath.

  Something that looked like a massive train car rapidly slowed. The door opened and a wave of soldiers rushed out.

  One of the spec ops launched a rocket. It smashed into the nose of the train. Flames burst out of the open door in an inferno of white. Coalition soldiers rushed to escape. Men walked out, wreathed in flame, and simply fell to the ground.

  It should have sickened Kane. But it didn’t.

  He’d been watching scenes like this for days. Battles. The personal engagements that he missed, being at the top of the chain of command. The professional in him said it was to stay connected. The father in him did it to see the vengeance that he couldn’t get for himself.

  The feeling of helplessness was almost overwhelming. Here he was, at the pinnacle of the chain of command, and he was helpless to do the one thing he really wanted. Instead, he focused and watched the enemy die.

  That became his goal.

  What was once a war of liberation was now a struggle to annihilation. He’d just learned about the liquidations of the officer corps. He understood the logic, but he now sought to bring down the wrath he had at hand. If they wanted a war, they’d damned well get it.

  The spec ops finally moved beyond the entry point.

  A soldier turned the camera. The face was covered in a digital tactical mask, half armor, half digital assistant on the battlescape. It parted and showed a woman who looked terribly young. “Send down the engineers. I can see the charges planted nearby. This place is a fucking nightmare. You hear me, Stinky? I want to get my team out of here before—“

  The camera went blank.

  Kane slid back from his desk. His hands shook. The victories didn’t make him feel better; the defeats simply wore him down more.

  There came a knock on the door.

  Kane turned off the monitors. “Enter.”

  A naval commander poked her head in. “General Amit sends her regards. It’s time for the daily.”

  “I’ll take it in here,” Kane said.

  The commander lingered for a moment.

  Kane gave her a forced smile. “Thank you, Commander. Dismissed.”

  She left, and Kane sat before the monitors. In each he saw his reflection and wondered what sort of man he’d become. When they arrived, he was an optimist. Now he decided it was a terrible thing: a man with no children to be in charge of those young men and women.

  He tapped at a screen and a dozen different faces looked back. The daily, or daily combat briefing, was where each critical cell gave an accounting of the previous twenty-four hours. Kane hated it because it was a chance for commanders to bicker, posture, and try to scrape up more assets.

  “Good afternoon.” Kane decided not to force a smile. “Make it brief.”

  General Amit spoke first, even though her official position was seventh. “We’re tightening a noose on Claymore. In a few more days, the entire zone will be reclaimed. I’d like four more divisions moved down from the north where—“

  General Hennessy cut her off. “My zone is stable, but if you weaken it, the Coalition will strike. You’re stretched thin, Dinah. Your forces can’t take a punch.”

  Amit grinned at the camera. “And where is that punch going to come from? We’re destroying every one of those shafts we discover. I’ve decided to give up on securing one.”

  Kane was glad to hear that. He had precious few spec ops teams to work with. That division reported directly to him. “Enough. You get two divisions: one from General Hennessy and the other from General Pak.”

  A balding man frowned but didn’t protest.

  General Omar frowned at the camera. His face was scrunched up tight. “They captured the command staff of the Thirty-third Heavy Infantry Division and shot every single officer. All of them!” He slammed his fist down onto the table. “Permission to execute any Coalition officer caught—“

  “Do it.”

  The generals and admirals looked at Kane.

  Admiral Hayabusa spoke slowly and softly. “Sky Marshall, we have a duty to uphold certain standards. That is an illegal order.”

  “And as per my orders, this situation is flexible. The order stands.”

  “I protest,” Admiral Hayabusa stated.

  “Noted,” Kane said. He swallowed and looked at the screens. “This conflict is now fundamentally different than before. We are not fighting rebels or renegades but colluders. They have turned their backs on mankind and will be treated as Qin. If anyone, upon surrender or capture, is found to have participated in the execution of Terran Union troops, they will be shot!”

  Admiral Hayabusa shook his head.

  “Now, let us continue.”

  The rest of the meeting flowed by quickly. Everyone was muted and to the point. The normal banter was gone. The invasion was progressing. They had taken much territory on the ground, but everything was still fluid. In orbit, though, no one knew. The A-44s would strike in under sixteen hours. And then they’d know how the battle in the sky would go.

  Kane dismissed them and immediately called up General Amit. “Has IA found anything?”

  “Negative, sir.” She smoothed the front of her shirt and cocked her head slightly.

  Kane nodded. Whoever was sending the information was clever. He looked up and saw Amit studying him. Is she judging me? he wondered.

  “Do you protest as well?”

  Amit bared her teeth, not in a smile, but like an animal would. “If it was up to me, I’d have burned this place from orbit as soon as we knew they were with the Qin.”

  Kane now wished he’d done exactly that.

  ####

  Gavin gasped and opened his eyes. He could feel heat on his back, a searing pain on one arm, and the start of an amazing headache. The copter was thrashed. Smoke rose up from the access panels. One entire side of the unit was crushed.

  “Cross? Rob?” he said.

  Snow glared from outside. Chunks of ice and hard-packed snow half filled the compartment. Red hydraulic fluid poured out from the main rotor and soaked down through the floor.

  Gavin struggled to sit up. It took him a moment to get out of the seat. He glanced over at Jack. The locksmith’s nose was crooked and twin streams of blood ran down into his mouth. Both of his eyes were closed.

  “Jack?” Gavin shook the locksmit
h and slid down in pain. He looked at his arm and frowned. It was scraped through almost to the bone.

  “Oh God,” Jack said. He opened his eyes and gently probed his nose with his fingers. “Every time I fly, we crash. Every time!”

  “Get outside,” Gavin said.

  Jack crawled out of a shattered window and fell onto the glacial surface with a thud.

  The entire copter groaned and shifted.

  “Holy shit!” Jack yelled. “It’s balancing in a crevasse!”

  Gavin stopped moving and felt the gentle sway of the copter. He shifted his weight one way, and then the next. The whole thing was fluid, almost alive. This was going to be difficult.

  A foot stuck out from beneath a collapsed cargo box. Gavin carefully tugged at the box. It didn’t budge. He glanced around and grabbed a strut.

  “Don’t move! It keeps wobbling! Gavin!” Jack yelled.

  “You’re not helping!” Gavin yelled outside. “Try and secure it!”

  “I don’t do well with heights!” Jack screamed back.

  Gavin wedged the strut under the box. He grunted and finally got enough leverage to slide the box sideways.

  Cross looked up at him with a frown on his face. He coughed twice and both times grimaced in pain. “Help me up, Cap. Broken ribs.”

  “We’re across a crevasse, Cross. You been saying your prayers?”

  Cross shook his head. “Thought I felt the copter moving.”

  “Jack,” Gavin yelled outside. “Come help Cross out.”

  “I—“

  “Now!”

  Gavin gently helped Cross to his feet. Then he slid to one side so Cross could get out.

  Every step was an effort for Cross. He reached out an arm to the broken window and groaned in pain.

  “Robert. Robert. Do you hear me? Status update.” The little drone was wedged against the wall and trapped tight.

  Gavin and Cross both turned and looked at the little device. The digital eye was facing away from them and right at the wall.

  The drone chirped three times. “Do you hear me?”

  Gavin looked at Cross. He lowered his voice a bit and spoke. “I hear you.”

  The drone chirped. “Keep moving! They’re still looking. You need to get them clear until we’ve secured a path to consoles. If you can’t, shoot them—both of them. Understood?”

  Gavin grabbed the strut he’d used to pry the box free and smashed the little drone. Bits and pieces flew everywhere.

  A groaning sound came from the cockpit. “Help me, I’m trapped.” Rob’s voice was weak.

  Jack peeked in the window. “Are you coming?”

  Cross frowned and glared toward the front. He stepped to the side. “Leave him, Cap. The bastard—“

  “Is my brother,” Gavin said.

  Jack reached in and helped Cross out.

  The copter groaned and dropped half a meter. Gavin balanced in the new center point. He studied a path and picked his way slowly ahead. Each foothold was precarious. Hydraulic fluid soaked through everything. Finally he came to the nose.

  Rob was slumped over in the pilot’s seat. The roof of the copter was totally crushed and pinned him right into the seat. Sparks clattered out from the console before him and fizzled in the hydraulic fluid.

  “Hold on,” Gavin said. He knew he didn’t have much time. More smoke rolled out from the console. An electrical fire was brewing. The cabin stank of burnt plastic and charred copper.

  The copter shuddered again. Rob moaned and struggled to get free.

  Gavin plucked up the same strut he’d used to crush the bot and wedged it between the back of the seat and the roof. He pushed up with all his might and suddenly slipped on the floor. He fell flat on his face. The whole copter shuddered and thudded down another half meter.

  “Gavin!” Jack yelled outside. “You’ve got to get out now! The whole works is gonna go in!”

  “Fuck it,” Gavin said. He dove into the cockpit, grabbed Rob under his arms, and pulled at him with all his strength.

  Rob screamed out in pain. The back of the seat finally gave way. Gavin tore him out and struggled to hold Rob upright while balancing in what felt like the center of the copter.

  The copter wiggled and moaned. It had now settled just over a meter into the crevasse.

  Gavin came into the light of the broken window. The surface of the glacier was barely visible. Jack looked down and held out his hands. “Hand him up!”

  Right as Gavin pushed Rob up, he heard a whoosh from behind him and felt the heat of the burning hydraulic fluid.

  Jack pulled Rob clear, and the two disappeared from view.

  Gavin clambered out and kicked just as the copter settled and broke free. His feet were suddenly in midair. The copter slid down and screeched before the main hydraulic bank exploded into flames. Gavin’s fingers were locked onto the icy edge, and he could feel himself slipping.

  The ice melted beneath his fingers just from his body heat. Bit by bit, he slid back. He dug his fingernails in and kicked at the wall.

  He couldn’t hold on, not any longer.

  Cross reached in and clasped his hands onto Gavin’s wrists. The sniper stared down with pain etched onto his face. Slowly he pulled, and Gavin finally clawed at the hard snow and pulled himself up to safety.

  “Oh God,” Cross cried out and fell to the ground. He rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball.

  Gavin knelt next to Cross. “Thank you, Cross. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  Behind them, an explosion rocketed up from the crevasse. The far side of the glacier collapsed across the gap and completely obscured what was left of the copter. The only thing that was left was a red stain where the hydraulic fluid had sprayed out into the snow.

  “Hey, I think we better get moving,” Jack said. He stood with a finger on each side of his nose.

  Gavin stood and turned. They were at the base of a massive mountain, where a glacier slid down and made its way into a distant valley. At the head of the glacier a massive starship lay wrecked. It was half on the glacier and half on the mountain itself.

  “Look at that,” Gavin said. He knew immediately what it was. His grandfather’s starship. The Mackinac.

  “Yah, but look at that,” Jack said, pointing the other direction.

  Gavin turned. A massive black wall of storm clouds was rapidly closing. A terrible-looking mountain storm was just minutes away from overrunning them.

  “Get Cross!” Gavin yelled. He stooped down and pulled Rob to his feet.

  They set out with the first snowflakes slamming down. Gavin led them parallel to the line of crevasses until they set foot on a finger of stone that ran up toward the wrecked starship. But they lost precious time, and the storm was on them.

  Giant snowflakes—huge, wet balls—slammed into them. The air was just barely above freezing. Each snowflake clung to their Coalition overalls, and soon they were thoroughly soaked.

  Gavin set one foot in front of the next. He took a step, checked behind to see Cross and Jack, and took two more. The weight of carrying his brother combined with cold wetness was wearing him down.

  “We can’t see!” Jack yelled.

  Before them it was a wall of white. The snowflakes whipped past and were already drifting up. To make matters worse, the temperature was dropping. Gavin could feel his clothing starting to freeze.

  “Move!” Gavin yelled. This was it and he knew it. In less than thirty minutes they’d freeze to death. Though he guessed that unless they could find shelter inside, they’d still freeze to death.

  How ironic, he thought, to die in the same wreck my grandfather did.

  Gavin took a dozen more steps and slipped. He skidded down a section of armor plate and realized he’d found the starship.

  “Come on!”

  Jack and Cross fell down the same piece. Cross screamed out in pain at the bottom.

  “Get inside!” The sound of the wind was deafening. The storm grew to an impenetrable violence.
/>   Gavin climbed through an open access, and the air was suddenly still. Motes of snow danced in the dim light.

  He shivered uncontrollably. Both of his hands were like claws, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t open them up. Keep moving. He had to keep them moving.

  Cross fell to the floor. Jack struggled to get him to his feet, but then they both fell.

  “I’m heading inside!” Gavin yelled.

  In the darkness he saw another access door.

  He stumbled the half dozen meters to it and jammed his hands into the emergency wheel. He grunted, wedged his fingers in, and turned it.

  At first it didn’t budge. He wedged himself against the wall and lifted up with all of his strength. Slowly it groaned and turned. He adjusted and pushed again. Finally it turned free.

  “Oh God,” he groaned. His teeth chattered so much that his skull ached.

  He opened the door and fell inside. It wasn’t warm, not by a long shot, but the wind was gone and the air was dry. Debris littered the floor and wiring spilled out from the walls. Then he saw a sign. Crew Quarters. Crew quarters meant blankets.

  Gavin turned to go get the others.

  He felt the cold ring of a pistol on the back of his neck.

  A woman spoke. “Don’t fucking move.”

  Gavin was suddenly awake. Was it a Coalition soldier or TU? He wore an odd uniform, so whoever it was probably didn’t know who he was.

  “TU or Coalition?” he asked. The words barely came out.

  “I’m Captain Onna Brey, Terran Union. Now, who the fuck are you?”

  “Captain Gavin McCloud, Fifth Rangers.” He couldn’t take the cold any more and collapsed on the floor. “There’s three more through the door.”

  Onna peeked through the hatch. She looked down at Gavin. “And they said you rangers were tough.”

  Gavin lost consciousness with a grin on his face. Safe. Finally safe.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The A-44 drone known as B221 blasted through space and cleared the shadow of the nearest planet. It sensed the other drones around it through a passive link, though it didn’t pay them much mind. Everyone was where they were supposed to be.