Colliding Worlds Trilogy 03 - Explosion

by Berinn Rae

  The tank fired, and the transporter rocked from side to side. Talla’s ears rang from the explosion, but they didn’t slow down. Within a couple seconds, they were to the transporter, and the door opened. Talla and Pires held their shields against the tank, even though she knew that if the tank fired on them now, they were both dead.

  The humans scurried onto the transporter, stumbling over one another in desperation to reach safety. “Hurry, damn it!” Talla shouted behind her as she stared down the massive barrel of the tank. It could fire on them any moment. Why it hadn’t already surprised Talla. Then, the tank jerked and started to back away. Talla glanced at Pires who looked just as confused, but it made sense when she saw the tank aim for a low-flying aggressor.

  It looked like the troops had some semblance of humanity left in them. Once the protesters had been brought on board, they almost seemed thankful, and no longer tried to destroy the transporter, instead moving onto new prey. Perhaps, like Talla, they were simply trying to save those who they could, too.

  But it wasn’t a time for deep reflection. The ship was full.

  “Wait!” someone screamed from the distance.

  Talla turned to find several more humans run toward them. She motioned them forward, and they jumped onto the ship at nearly full speed. Talla glanced inside. The transporter was packed, all seats taken and everyone else standing shoulder to shoulder.

  She made eye contact with the pilot. “We’ll round up another group by the time you get back.” With that, she stepped back and watched the door close. She looked around before pointing at one of the massive pylons anchoring the Striga to the ground. “There,” she said. “If we can get the humans there, they can hide behind the pylon until the transporters pick them up.”

  “Looks good,” Pires said, scanning the area. “But we have company.”

  She noticed the incoming troops at the same time. “To the pylon!” she yelled just as the first bullets pounded their shields.

  “I’ll take the flank,” Pires said, and she moved. He was stronger. He could handle the barrage longer. With her back to his, their clear shields enveloped them in a protective shell. Talla stepped forward only when she felt Pires press against her. They made slow progress, but Talla knew the hazards of stepping backward over rough terrain. She supported Pires with her back, and they finally reached the pylon.

  Talla pulled Pires to the side, and they stood against the gray metal panting. She wiped the rain from her eyes. She wanted to peek around their shelter to see their odds, but knew they’d only dishearten her. “They’ve got us pinned, and they know it.”

  “The grenades will come soon if we stay here,” he muttered.

  They resituated their shields to form a cocoon around them. It’d buy them time, but there was only so much a shield could take. Talla checked her blaster, switching it from ‘stun’ to ‘kill’, and looked at Pires. “Then we don’t stay here.”

  He glanced at his blaster, and she noticed that it had been set to ‘kill’ all along. He smiled. “Are you overriding ‘minimize casualties’ order?”

  “Temporarily,” she said. “I take high, you take low?”

  Pires gave a quick nod.

  They each strapped on their shields on their backs and stood. Laying her hand on his, she tapped one, two, three. They spun and started firing around the edge of the pylon. Pires ran out at the same time, he ran to the left, and she took off to the sky.

  And found themselves outnumbered twenty to one. They didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jax lay on his stomach, scanning the base’s layout through his binoculars. General Jerrick was taking lunch in his office at HQ, like usual. Jax had been stationed at this base several years back, and nothing had changed, other than the fact that it looked like only a skeleton crew remained.

  Mesh wire covered all the office windows as a protection against flak and B&E, but it also prevented an easy in-and-out. The hallways looked empty, but given that it was the lunch hour, that wasn’t uncommon. He handed the binoculars to Sana.

  “It looks like our only shot is to go through the front door.”

  “Wait until he leaves for the night,” Sana offered.

  “See that cot in the corner? He’s not leaving.” Jax knew his father as well as anyone, which wasn’t saying much. But he did know that the General never came home anytime the DEFCON level was raised. Hell, he didn’t come home if he was busy. When Jax had been a kid, the neighbor lady would stop over and check on him after getting a call from his father. She was called at least once a week. Sometimes, Jax would go nearly two weeks without seeing his father. In the regular world, what the General did could be seen as child abandonment, but the military was a far different place. For a Jerrick, everything came before family.

  Just like now, Jax knew his father wasn’t joining the Resistance for his son. Today was about business, not family. If the General was joining the Resistance, it was because the odds were better in his favor to switch teams. Not that Jax was complaining. They’d be gaining a powerful man with powerful connections out of this.

  Jax glanced at his watch. Twelve thirty-six. Staff would start returning a few minutes before thirteen hundred.

  Now.

  Pulling himself up on his knees, he took back the binoculars and scanned the building one more time. “If things go bad, be ready to run. Don’t wait for me,” he said to Sana before coming to his feet and handing the binoculars back. He jogged forward through the small parking lot, his blaster holstered, hoping that anyone seeing him from a distance, especially in this rain shower, wouldn’t notice anything other than a Ranger in black fatigues.

  Jax strolled through the front door of the one-story office building as though he’d done it every day, which he had for eighteen months. Just inside, a clerk Jax didn’t recognize sat at his desk, raptly engaged by his computer screen and a sandwich. Jax had planned on incapacitating the clerk, but the man didn’t even look up as Jax walked by and headed down the hallway. A couple office doors were open, most were closed. He headed straight to the large office at the end of the hallway.

  Not bothering with a knock, he stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind him. General Jerrick looked up, piqued, but upon seeing who it was, a smile broke out across his face. “You came.”

  “We have to hurry,” he said, motioning his father to him.

  His father came to his feet. “Jackson, it’s good to see you, boy.”

  “Later,” Jax said, gripping the door handle. “We have to move.”

  “Wait. I need to grab something out of my lockbox.”

  “Leave it,” Jax said. “Let’s go.”

  Instead, his father sorted the keys on his hefty keychain. “It won’t take long.”

  “We don’t have time for this!” Jax hissed.

  “Just give me a minute.” The General’s gaze flashed to the side for an instant before returning his focus on Jax. The movement was quick enough to prickle the hair on Jax’s neck.

  Jax’s eyes widened. “No.” He yanked the door open at the same time two armed soldiers — one from each side — emerged from the corner shadows. Boot steps pounded the floor, coming to a stop behind him.

  He leveled a hard gaze onto the General. He should’ve figured it out right away. The lax clerk at the front desk, the lack of troops walking outside. Even for the lunch hour, he should’ve seen more people out and about. Everything had been too easy. He’d been set up … by his own fucking father.

  Jax moved his hand away from his holster, and a soldier disarmed him. He glared at his father. “Why?”

  His father stiffened to his full height. “I had to do what I could to save you, Jackson.”

  “Save me?” Jax belted out a laugh as his wrists were restrained behind his back. “You’re saving me by bringing me in so I can be hung for treason?”

  The General’s mouth tightened. “I’ve called in some favors. You’ll be sent to the brig but not executed. What matters is t
hat you’ll live. We can work on reducing your sentence later. Hell, I might be able to get it knocked down to a six, six, and a kick.”

  “Don’t act like you’re doing this for me,” Jax said. “Saving my life is for you, not me. You know damn well leaving me to rot in the brig is not saving me. You’re doing this to keep your conscience clean, isn’t that right, Dad?”

  His father bristled. “I’m not going to let my son die with aliens. Not if there’s anything I can do about it.”

  “With the Omega out there, being with those aliens is the safest place to be right now.”

  “Not for long.”

  Jax furrowed his brows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Things are changing. I may not agree with the General of the Army on this, but it’s my duty to obey. What’s left of the Etzee, and the core ship, neither of those things will matter in another week.”

  Jax’s temper roiled. “That’s insanity! All that will be accomplished will be to guarantee a war that we don’t have a prayer at winning.”

  “Perhaps,” his father replied quietly, the pain clear in his voice. “But the General of the Army is a man of action. Peace talks and delays don’t become him. We did what we could to prevent war. Now that war is upon us, as soldiers it is our duty to defend our country.”

  Jax opened his mouth, but his world suddenly lit up around him, a soldier fell onto him, and they tumbled to the ground. Jax twisted out from under the unconscious soldier and struggled to his knees. Another three men dropped from blaster fire coming through the window from the tree line. He spun around and shot one final glare at his father.

  The General reached out for him. “Don’t do this, Jackson!”

  Jax turned and ran, his gait made clumsy by his wrists restrained behind his back. The clerk was standing by his desk, his eyes wide in shock. When he saw Jax, he scrambled for his piece. Jax ducked, lunged, and then head butted him. He sprinted out the front door to see Humvees heading in from the east. He ran west.

  Adrenaline sang in his veins as he crouched, weaving through cars. If he was seen, he was dead, so every movement was slow and careful. At the last car, he looked up to see Sana still laying down cover fire on the office building.

  He took a step forward and was yanked to his feet. Jax kicked out and Qan blocked the blow. The Draeken glared but grabbed Jax’s bicep and pulled him toward Sana. When they neared, she came up on a knee, still firing, then from a standing position.

  Qan pulled out a knife, and Jax gave him his back. “Get the ship ready,” he ordered as he felt the plastic restraint fall away.

  “On my way,” Qan said before taking off for the ship.

  Sana continued to fire. Jax counted to five, and then tapped Sana on the shoulder. “Let’s go!”

  She fired off three more rounds before turning and they sprinted toward the aggressor.

  The engine was running, and Qan was strapped in. Jax and Sana tumbled inside, and Jax hit the switch. The door closed, and Jax went about untangling him from Sana. The interior was cramped. It only had two seats — one for a pilot and one for a gunner — and two jump seats for passengers. Jax took the seat next to Qan, leaving Sana in the back.

  “No pickup?” Qan asked as he pulled the aggressor off the ground.

  Jax grimaced. “No pickup.” He shouldn’t have been surprised that his father thought to protect him by betraying him, but his betrayal was acid to his gut all the same.

  Qan throttled forward. Jax was thrust against the back of his seat, his fault for not paying enough attention to brace himself for the torque. The hard rain they’d encountered earlier was nothing but a light drizzle now, granting them miles of unhindered visibility. Their speed and the aerodynamics of the streamlined aggressor were a perfect combination so that rain glided over the windshield without touching.

  Even the air force’s fastest jets couldn’t keep up with a Draeken aggressor. The one hundred sixty miles back to the Striga took only a few minutes, and they weren’t even at full power. Jax still couldn’t believe that he’d been set up. Screwed by the General, no less.

  My own fucking father.

  The reality of the soul-deep betrayal seeped into his already drenched pores, dousing his mood all the more. While they’d never been close, he still trusted his father. Hell, he’d idolized that man for much of his life. That his father thought that bringing Jax in was the right thing to do went to show that he didn’t understand his son in the least.

  What a wake-up call.

  Jax and his father had one thing in common. Duty was everything. But they had different ways of accomplishing that. The General was all about orders; making them, following them, it didn’t matter. Jax, on the other hand, believed the end result was more important. They both sought peace, but had such different approaches.

  Jax was exactly where he should be. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. He knew war would decimate the United States, if not the world. The best shot he had at saving lives was on board the core ship, in the middle of discussions with Sephian and Draeken leaders. Damn his father for nearly fucking things up.

  Though there was one new piece of information Jax learned today. It was unlike General Jerrick to share confidential information, which meant that he’d wanted Jax to know. And, that was very much like the General. Even though he’d brought Jax in some rarely revealed fatherly need to keep him safe, he’d also shared critical information just in case Jax could get it back to the core ship. His father hadn’t become a general for not covering every base.

  Time was of the essence for Jax to get back to the core ship. Hopefully, once he shared what he’d learned, there was still a chance left for preventing an all-out war. Though he was no longer confident that chance still existed.

  His seat moved slightly, and Jax jerked back to attention to find Sana leaning over him, looking out the window. His gaze followed hers and narrowed on the battle scene before them. There were several aggressors still in the air, hovering around transporters on the ground. They were taking heavy fire. “What the hell is going on out there?”

  “I’m pulling up the details now.” Qan’s fingers flew over the com. “The Striga is on alert. The humans fired on their brethren, and teams were sent out to in waves to retrieve survivors.”

  They had begun shooting at protestors? What the fuck happened in the last three hours? “Do they need air support?” Jax asked.

  “No. The last transporters are lifting off now,” Qan said.

  He scanned the area. “Okay, then. If they don’t need us, we’ll head straight to the — wait a sec.” He first thought he was seeing things, and he leaned closer. You’ve got to be shitting me. But, yeah, of all people, there was Talla on the ground, huddled next to a gold-skinned man, standing right smack-dab in the middle of an onslaught of several dozen troops. She was facing the Sephian, each with shields on their backs, as they fired in opposite directions.

  Jax pointed to the ground. “Clear a path and pick up our guys!”

  “But we’re not supposed to engage,” Qan said. “Orders are to pick up survivors only.”

  “Then there will be one less Draeken female on the ship.”

  Without hesitation, Qan engaged the troops on the ground, firing a barrage of shots at the tanks.

  “Get us down there and start a counterattack now!” Jax unstrapped his belt and lunged toward the door. Sana was at the door and had it opened already. Qan was holding the trigger down because the aggressor was blasting non-stop at the ground below.

  Later, Jax figured he’d think of how many fellow soldiers he’d just killed, but now wasn’t the time to weigh the consequences. There was only one life he cared about saving. And she was facing certain death.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Talla was furious.

  The aggressor Jax rode in on hadn’t even touched down before he was out the door with no shield for defense. He landed on the ground next to her and moved in between her shield and Pires’s shield the instant b
efore several shots fired in the direction of where he’d been standing a fraction of a second earlier.

  She glared. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

  “I’m trying to save your ass!” he snapped back over the blaster fire.

  The Sephian woman accompanying Jax stood on Talla’s other side, and the four of them fired shots out in every direction.

  The aggressor turned around to make another strafing run of suppression fire. The barrage sent the soldiers surrounding them from a head-on offense to a scattering defense. Knowing they were nowhere near to being the victors yet, they remained close together, each shooting at the escaping troops.

  “Back to the pylon!” Talla yelled, and the four moved as one, step by slow step, closer to the thick metal. After another strafing run, when they were only feet away, they broke rank and dove behind the cover of the pylon.

  Pires and the Sephian woman stood near the center of the ten-foot wide pylon. Jax pinned Talla against the metal, as he held out his blaster, scanning the area, and Talla moved just enough to glance around the edge. Nearly a third of the soldiers who’d encircled Talla and Pires lay unmoving on the ground. The remaining had committed to a retreat, heading to the safety of the tanks, a couple of which were retargeting the pylon with their large cannons. Cannon fire couldn’t get through the pylon, but there was little to protect themselves against shrapnel and debris.

  “You better hurry!” Jax yelled into his wrist-com. He glanced down at Talla, his gaze intense and pained. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head, and he sighed, closing his eyes just for a moment. When he opened them, his eyes were flickering with fury. But he said nothing. Instead, he shot off a couple more shots around the edge of the pylon.

  The small aggressor landed in front of them, making a barrier in case anyone shot at them from this side of the pylon. No one needed orders. Talla and Pires used their shields to cover their flanks as all four piled inside the tight cockpit. The other Sephian took the co-pilot’s seat, and Pires took one of the jump seats. Jax pulled out the other jump seat and motioned Talla to sit.