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When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars)

Page 51

by Korenman, Adam


  “Entrance to lower levels is about two hundred meters to your front,”Liane said over the comms.“This is your best shot. Make it count.”

  “Appreciated,”Josh said. He looked over at Pierre, at the strange box on the man’s back.

  Their payload was a suitcase-sized Thermobaric Reducer Device. Another of Markov’s experimental tech, the TRD—which Cho had tried to nickname“the Turd”—could shatter the infrastructure of the alien carrier, bringing it crashing down on itself. Josh was sure the bomb would work, he just didn’t want to be around when it activated.

  They reached the hole a moment later. One of the PAC rounds had torn clean through the ship, from bow to stern. Surprisingly, no fires remained lit from the impact. Markov, in his briefing, had warned that they might encounter a raging inferno inside the carrier. Then again, he’d also told them to expect heavy resistance. Josh took in a deep breath, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The helmet filtered the air inside the carrier, but it could do nothing for the stench of burnt metal and chemicals left from the orbital strike. He stepped around a shimmer puddle of bubbling liquid, fighting the urge to gag.

  Fares hopped down inside, followed by Pierre a second later. They disappeared into the shadows while the rest of the team watched. Josh’s throat tightened, but he forced himself not to call out. He looked up at Dax and Liane in the overwatch position. With his finger, he motioned in a circle over his head.

  “We’ve got you marked,”Dax said.

  Josh gave a two-finger salute and rejoined his fire team.

  “LT,”Cho said.“You got a minute?”

  Josh leaned over the hole, shining his light down inside. It appeared to be a storage area, with long containers stacked against the walls.“Just hanging here. What’s up?”

  “Do you find it odd that there’s only animals aboard? Aside from that gull, this place is a ghost town.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”Josh switched arms, shaking his wrist until the feeling returned.“Sasha thought most of the crew would go out to fight.”

  “Leaving no one to start repairs?”

  Josh had to admit, it was more than a little odd. Since entering through the hole in the roof, they hadn’t seen a single living enemy. There was the odd corpse, usually too mangled and burnt to even recognize, but no living resistance. But the carrier was massive. It would be impossible to maintain it, even without the two giant craters dug down to the core. Terran carriers had staff numbering in the thousands, not counting marines and pilots. The more he thought about it, the more it irked him.

  “Fares?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Josh began to lower himself to the next level, letting out a breath through clenched teeth.“How’s it look in there?”

  “Dark.”

  He paused at a cross beam, checking up above for his two team members.“Think maybe you could speed that whole thing along? We need to find these engines soon.”

  “Not really.”

  Josh had to bite his tongue not to swear.“You realize I outrank you, right?”

  The rifleman sounded harried.“Can you please get over here?”

  Something in the soldier’s tone put Josh on edge.“What is it?”

  “We found the crew.”

  - XVIII -

  Apparently the landing gear had essentially come undone halfway through the flight. Not that it mattered much; they were going way too fast for any safe stop. After the crash, Cameron had to dig his way out of the foam by hand, emerging to a crowd of cheering pilots and mechanics. Holding the door frame, Cameron waved over a medical crew and ushered them inside. He’d covered Jerry’s body with the remains of his dress coat. They’d only shared a day together, but the old man’s words echoed in Cam’s head. The galaxy was definitely a lesser place without men like that.

  The young pilot stepped out to resounding applause. A small part of his brain laughed. Par for the day. But he didn’t feel his usual mirth. All the fun seemed to have been sucked out the room, at least for him. Then a familiar face appeared, gold eyes filled with tears. Cameron stumbled forward as Kaileen ran into his arms, squeezing him until he thought she’d break a rib. He held her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair, the lilacs mixed with gear exchange fluid. They stood at the center of attention, oblivious to the world around them. After a few minutes Kaileen pulled back, grinning like mad with dried tears down her cheeks.

  “God, I missed your dumb face.”

  Cameron kissed her, drawing her close. Behind him, paramedics pulled Jerry from the shuttle and placed his body on a gurney. Adeline stayed close to her former boss, her eyes red and puffy. A severe-looking woman in a black suit approached carrying a hand scanner. A badge on her shirt identified her as a Department of the Treasury member. The woman placed the device on the Chief of Staff’s arm, holding it over his wrist until a light flashed.

  “Confirmed,”she said into a small radio. The medics pushed the body away.

  Captain Donovan approached, followed by the commander of Primus, Admiral Fawks.“Lieutenant Davis.”

  Cameron broke his embrace to salute. He looked a sight, with his stubble, torn and bloody uniform and a fresh lump on his head. At least Admiral Fawks was breaking regs with his beard; it made the young pilot feel less self-conscious.“Captain. Admiral. Good to have my feet on the ground.”

  The Admiral spoke first.“The FAID is going to need to debrief you. Anything you can recall from the attacks will be helpful. Then we’ll need you back in a ship.”

  “Yes, sir.”Cameron wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that particular can of worms. He’d been debating the pros and cons of revealing the Nangolani deception, but then Jerry had gone and dropped all sorts of problems on his lap as well. He’d leave that for another panic-riddled moment.

  Fawks eyed the pilot. The Admiral was a much older man, a veteran of the colonization wars. He’d made his stars during the Martian conflict, assuming command of a station only when it seemed there were no more enemies that needed killing. It had inadvertently put him in prime position to oversee the defense of New Eden. Granted, official control of the offensive went to Commodore Osaka on Midway, but rank and regional authority still gave the old man the advantage. And, compared to the supercarrier, he still had more ships to field.

  “You have a knack for escaping death, Lieutenant. I wish I had another hundred pilots like you.”

  Cameron smiled.“It’d be too demoralizing to the enemy to fight such attractive soldiers, sir.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It was...I mean, I was saying that they wouldn’t want to...It was a joke, sir.”Cam’s smirk faded.“Sorry, sir.”

  Captain Donovan broke in.“You’ve arrived at an opportune time, Davis. The Boxti are controlling the tempo planetside. We can hold our own out here, but they have maneuverability unlike anything we believed physically possible in atmo.”

  “Like what, sir?”

  Admiral Fawks scoffed.“The usual UFO nonsense, only now it’s real. Stopping on a dime, rapid acceleration from standstill. They’re making us look like amateurs. We need to hit them hard and fast. Our Sparrows seemed the better match at low altitude, but only when we have numbers on our side.”

  Captain Donovan put a wrinkled hand on Cameron’s shoulder.“We’ll be giving you a full flight to run, Torch group. They’re young, but all have experience fighting around the Belt.”He meant the Asteroid Belt in Sol. Raiders often attacked mining groups there for a quick buck. Minerals and metals fetched a decent price on the black market. SP usually handled those missions.

  Cameron didn’t know how to process all the information. He held up his hands.“Sirs. I’m sorry, I just need a minute to catch my breath. I’m just a lieutenant. I’m fine taking an Ace position, even running a squadron again. Besides, I’m attached to Midwayuntil given new orders.”He shared a look of exhaustion with Kaileen.“And a full flight seems a bit over my pay grade. Sirs.”

  Fawks reached over and pulled the bars off of Donov
an’s uniform. He handed the rank to Cameron with a frown.“Congratulations on your promotion, Captain. You’ll report to the FAID, then to the hangar for briefing. I want your ships on the rails and prepped for launch in three hours.”

  “Admiral,”Cameron said.“I don’t even know what’s going on here.”

  The officer turned full front and glared. His staggering array of medals and ribbons caught the light and made him appear even more imposing.“What’s happening is we are dangerously close to losing New Eden. If she falls, Eros won’t last much longer. Kronos has already started evacuating, and the Academy left days ago. It’s just us and what forces remain on the ground. Admiral Walker is aboard Midwayoverseeing the battle, but thus far it’s been one-sided. If we have more days like today, we’ll see another planet fall to these bastards. That means retreating to Colorum or Sol, basically running away from almost one hundred years of colonizing efforts. It would mean going on the defensive against an enemy that seems to thrive on the attack.

  “We’re going to hit them with everything we’ve got. We’re going to level their bases on the ground, vaporize their armada and send them packing with a nuclear door prize to show to their friends back home. And we need to get you on that mission right away.”

  “Why so soon?”Cameron asked.

  Fawks sighed.“Because there is something coming our way, an object so big we didn’t believe the scanners. Something the size of a goddamned asteroid.”He started to walk away, calling back over his shoulder.“We need to win this fight now, Captain.”

  “What is it?”Cameron asked.“What’s coming here?”

  The admiral paused, looking back over his shoulder. His face was stoic, unflinching in this late hour. His eyes, however, betrayed the fear inside.“Oblivion, Captain.”

  - XIX -

  He awoke covered in dirt and debris. His uniform was torn wide open, revealing a ghastly cut across his chest. Cradling a broken arm close to his body, he rose on unsteady legs. Smoke filled the room, blinding his path. Alarms clamored all around. The smell of battle still clung in the air, dank and musty. Black ichor covered the floor in splotches, mixed in with scorch marks from laser fire and small craters from detonator pods. His left eye was blind, but he was happy to find it was just full of his blood.

  The situation was more than dire. He had known the mission better than anyone, enough to know he shouldn’t still be alive. Once the captives were clear, the Domin had arrived to wipe out the entire area. A single strike from the Lancer should have destroyed the entire ship. That he still had breath meant something had gone entirely wrong, or that he had in fact died and this was a dark beginning to his next journey. Neither possibility was fun to think about.

  He found a switch on the far side of the room that read“FILTER”. It was written in Fudi, a dialect in which he was not wholly familiar, but the characters were close enough to his own that it was manageable. He pressed the button and immediately felt a strong gust of air pulling on his clothing. The smoke was sucked into vents in the ceiling, revealing the true extent of the horror. He wiped at his face, blinking furiously until he could see straight.

  The hangar floated free in the void, absent of the ship that it had once resided inside. Barrenon’s attack must have excised the room like a tumor. The soldier looked around, his hearts racing. He closed his eyes, repeating the psalms of the Fallen Sisters to calm his nerves. After a minute his breathing slowed down. The atmosphere was contained by the shimmering barrier at each end of the bay, and the bulkhead doors had collapsed during the attack. He had enough breathable air for a short time. But without a way to communicate to the outside there was no hope of rescue.

  A noise drew his attention to the side. Drawing his service pistol, the soldier stepped over to a downed cross beam. Underneath, struggling to break free, was an engineer. The three circles on his collar marked him as a Shusta, or flight engineer. He tensed when he saw the weapon.

  “Please,”he said in the common tongue.“Don’t hurt me.”

  The rebel smiled.“What is your name, Imperial?”

  “I am Vim.”

  “And your family name?”

  Vim tried to shrink further under the beam.“I do not have one. My family died in the attack on the Hilon before I had grown.”

  The soldier sighed, holstering his weapon.“Fa‘hnaki lan, Vim. It appears we are both with a bit of a problem. You are trapped under that beam, and I am trapped in this hangar. Do you think we can work out a trade?”

  “Yes! Oh, yes. Please. Let me out and I will try to help you escape.”

  “Very good.”He knelt down, pulling on the beam with all his strength. His broken arm screamed in protest. The broken metal barely moved, but it was enough for Vim to squeak out, scurrying along the ground like a bug. His uniform was crumpled and covered in black grease, but otherwise he was uninjured.

  Vim stayed on his knees, hugging his savior’s legs.“Thank you. You saved my life.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Imperial.”He pushed Vim away.“The hangar broke free of the ship during the attack. We don’t have much air left, and all we have are derelict shuttles and fighters. If we’re going to survive, we need to think.”

  Vim didn’t move.“Please promise not to kill me.”

  “What?”

  “You rebels killed almost everyone on board, and most of us weren’t soldiers. I’m just an engineer. I have a lifemate on one of the merchant vessels, and I would like to see her again. Promise not to kill me and I will help you get off this wreckage.”

  The soldier nodded in agreement.“That is acceptable, Vim.”He offered a hand and helped the young Nangol to his feet.“I am Trik Downakan, and you are my prisoner.”

  Chapter Nine

  Enter Oblivion

  “The Guiding Star will never falter. From the day of the Great Birth to the final ending in the Sea of Night, JohGal will shine as a beacon for the lost and downtrodden. As pilgrims on the path of the light, let no stranger be turned away from your door. The wretched, the weak, the beaten, the hungry, the sinful, the proud. All are the children of JohGal. All deserve to bask in the warmth of her glow. We are all one.”

  Her Eminence Darna Wo

  Tractate of the Guiding Light

  11032 TDP

  - I -

  February 26, 2237

  Zev awoke to the sound of battle. Artillery whistled down from the sky, impacting with an earth-shattering roar and the rain of mud and rock. Engines whined as armored vehicles charged into the fray, loosing rounds at the unseen enemy. Every few minutes a wounded soldier would be carried into the infirmary, screaming for his mother or not at all. It had been that way for each brief foray into consciousness. The smell of blood, that gagging aroma that found its way into the back of his throat, was the only constant.

  Captain Grahams had visited once, but the fight drew him away after only a few minutes. Other than Gabriel, his only companions were the dying or the skeleton crew of doctors and nurses and corpsmen. Zev’s face hurt more than anything he had ever felt. Fire and ice fought for control of the left side of his head. The burning sensation started at his brow and dragged down to the center of his cheek. His eye was ground zero. Some part of his brain knew the orb was gone, not just covered with gauze. It felt different; a part of his body simply not there.

  Looking down, fighting a wave of intense nausea, the sergeant saw the damage done to his chest. Tubes had been inserted into every part of his body. One pumped in antibiotics and painkillers, while another removed dirty blood and a strange yellow ooze. Yet another set seemed to be cycling an orange foam through his system. He wasn’t a doctor, so none of it made much sense. He figured it was all very important.

  He turned to his right side, searching for the Lieutenant. His platoon leader had been shouting before, screaming about something or other. Probably asking when Zev would be able to get back into the fight again. Give me a rifle and point me at the enemy, sir. Just don’t let anyone stand on my bad side. No blue on b
lue today. The drugs made the NCO delirious, and he laughed at the idea of running into battle in his state. He stopped when he finally took stock of his surroundings.

  The hospital wasn’t right. It was too empty and dirty to be a field hospital. The beds were covered in slick red goop that seemed to grow from the floor up. Most were empty, but on a few lay silent bodies of desiccated soldiers. Their corpses were covered in thick cocoons. Zev’s chest tightened as he saw the subtle movement inside the coverings; the first stages of metamorphosis.

  He’d seen it before, on the field, as the spores fell from the clouds over the carriers. His fellow soldiers were being infected, turned into monsters. But how had he been brought here? Gabriel had been there after the fight in the schoolhouse. They’d won. What had happened?

  Zev fought to sit up. His hands wouldn’t move. It wasn’t pain keeping him in place; thick sinewy ropes held his limbs down to the cot. He tried to scream, but the tube in his mouth turned it into a weak groan. That was enough to draw the attention of his“doctor.”His eye grew wider and wider as a creature emerged from just outside his vision.

  Its body was elongated and scrawny, with six arms and no apparent legs. It moved around the room with surprising speed, cruising on all its knuckles until it arrived at the foot of the bed. At the top of the spiny neck, a grotesque head stared into the human’s gaze. It resembled a fly, with segmented eyes and a frothing proboscis. The creature began to chitter and gurgle, running its fingers over the soldier’s face and chest.

  Zev howled, tears streaming down his face. His skin burned with the poison they pumped inside.

  His eye snapped open and Zev awoke. The night air was cold, much more than was usual this time of year. The field hospital was quiet save the beeping of monitors and the whispers of the nurses. The sergeant checked his chest for tubes and growths, but all he found was the usual IV line and plenty of bandages. He brought a hand to his face, hoping that it had all really been a nightmare, but the eye was still gone. The fight was mostly a blur in his mind, but Zev still felt the black knife draw across his face and slice into the white pulp.

 

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