The doors glided open. The expanse of the hangar stretched before her. Emptied of so many ships, the bay appeared more immense than it had previously. Two craft stood ready, engines thrumming, waiting for the final passengers, the last of the women and children, and the brave men holding this sector. Erynn could hear security trying to break through the defenses. The battle wasn’t over yet. She searched for Faylen. The children and the two women ran ahead of her, making a dash to the first ship. The hatch hummed closed, the roar of the engine increased, and the craft hovered off the deck. The ship maneuvered to the open portal and through, racing out into space and away from the Andor, becoming a speck of light among the stars.
The children were safe.
Staser fire flared around an inner access against the far bulkhead. Several men emerged, followed by Faylen, all running.
Faylen yelled, flashes erupting all around him, “Erynn, get on board!” He aimed the staser behind him and fired several times. The men chasing him retreated, concealing themselves in the dim corridor.
Erynn turned and sprinted toward the ship. They would make it, but just barely. The ship that would take them off the Andor was only meters away.
No problem, a breeze, easy, a done thing.
Movement to her right caught her eye. Four of the older children who had at first refused to come scrambled from the smoking lift, running in her direction. Erynn skidded to a stop. She pivoted and raced back the incredibly long, unalterable distance. Her momentum felt agonizingly slow. Faylen flew past her in a burst of speed. He reached the children, rushing them to their last chance for escape and freedom. A few remaining men stood outside the waiting ship and laid a protective line of fire, shielding Faylen, Erynn, and the children as they approached.
Groups armed with heavy weapons materialized from several access hatches along the bulkhead, joining the security unit firing on the fleeing adults and children. Erynn saw their leader, that lowlife slime-sucking excuse of a man from earlier.
Wieran raised his weapon and aimed for her.
The men ran, half carrying, half dragging the children into the ship.
Faylen turned and opened fire, strafing the approaching attackers.
Erynn pulled the staser from her waistband. She aimed and fired.
At the same time, Wieran fired.
Faylen stepped in next to Erynn and pushed her against the last man going up the ramp. She craned her head around, looking back. Her bolt struck Wieran right between the eyes, and he dropped. Faylen groaned and stumbled into Erynn. Wieran’s shot had hit him instead of her.
She reached out steadied him. “Faylen. No!”
His face drained of color. “Keep moving. Hurry. I’m all right.” He tripped and went to his knees.
She pulled him upright, helping him the last few steps and inside the ship. He leaned against the inner wall, his face pale and sweating while Erynn retracted the ramp and shut the hatch. He slid to the floor, his back pressed to the rough surface. A red trail marked his path down the wall. Faylen sat on the deck, limp hands in his lap, feet splayed before him. His breaths came in short spurts.
Erynn knelt next to him and took his hand in both of hers. “Faylen, Faylen!” She glanced over her shoulder. “I need help here. Get a medi kit.” She cradled his face. “Look at me. Don’t you leave me. You can’t die.”
His brown eyes swam in and out of focus, finally centering on her. He coughed, and blood bubbled from his mouth. “We… did… it,” he wheezed. He smiled, his teeth covered with pink-tinged saliva.
Erynn felt the ship rise. A blast flared outside the forward panels. The hit knocked them sideways. Faylen crumbled to the floor. “No! You are not going to die.” She pulled him up and he slumped against her. She held him close, her arms around him, stroking his cold face. “Help me! Someone do something!” she screamed.
A man rushed to Faylen’s side, knelt next to him, and set down a pack. He pushed Erynn’s arms off Faylen. She saw the blood soaking Faylen’s shirt.
The man ripped Faylen’s uniform open. He stared at Erynn and shook his head. “The damage is too severe.” Blood dripped, forming puddles at Faylen’s sides.
“Do something!” She grabbed the pack. “You can at least try.”
Faylen took her bloody hand. His hold was weak, his fingers so cold. “Stop.” He hitched in a shallow breath. “Erynn.”
“But—”
Faylen shook his head with slight, jerky movements. His breath rasped out in a ragged tatter.
The ship shot out the portal, banking away from the Andor. No further attempt came to prevent them from leaving. Erynn sobbed. Tears slipped down her cheeks, dropping gently on him.
Faylen reached up and brushed her tears away with shaking fingers. “It’s… okay, Erynn. I will die… a free man. My… children, all… the children, will… live and… grow, be … happy. You… will live.” A weak smile curved the corners of his blood-caked lips. “I can… accept… my death… knowing this.” He gazed into her face, and the fire in his eyes went out.
Chapter 51
JAER ROLLED OVER IN HIS bunk. Silence wrapped him in its hold like a veil no sound could penetrate. The aching emptiness of Erynn’s absence tore at his heart. She had been gone seven days. His fear for what might be happening, or had happened to her, on Newell’s ship chewed at his thoughts with razor-sharp teeth, ripping into his soul. Soon his dread would gnaw a hole the size of the Pollan crater straight through him. He tossed to his other side and fisted his hands, his jaw tightening. This waiting was worse than anything he had ever undergone, and he had endured much. He sighed, closing his eyes. He would trust Erynn and her abilities. This was all he could do, for now.
An alarm sounded. Jaer threw off the covers and jumped up, pulling on his quilted pants and boots. The DVSL on the opposite wall from his bunk switched from the cloudless night full of brilliant stars to Cale’s office.
Cale swept into the frame, his tone serious. “Jaer, get up here. Something is happening.” The screen returned to the night sky.
Jaer slipped into his tunic and coat and was out the door, running. The dim corridors were full. People struggled into jackets, hopping into boots and hurrying to duty stations as the alarm continued to blare. Jaer wound his way around them, his heartbeat pounding in his ears over the screaming siren. He hurried into Cale’s quarters, the room similar to seven nights ago, full of officers all talking at once. Jaer pushed through them to Cale.
“Look at this.” Cale used a remote device to enlarge the view on the DVSL.
Jaer stepped forward, staring at the scene before him. Stars broke up the endless black of space. In the forefront, Newell’s ship was a shining cylindrical shape. The craft appeared so small, hanging there in the vast, empty vacuum. Jaer knew it wasn’t. To show up this clearly on their screens, the ship had to be massive. “What?” He shook his head. “Newell’s ship—just as it has been.”
“Look closer.” Cale frowned. The room quieted.
Jaer squinted. Then he saw them. Hundreds of tiny, shimmering dots sped in a line through the immense black openness. Their trajectory arced toward Korin. “An attack?”
“I have to assume so.” Cale watched the ships advance. “The base is on alert. I’m scrambling all fighters. Tiar is in the bay, coordinating the counter offensive.” He sighed. “Korin will need our help. This is a substantial assault.”
“Erynn.” Jaer’s breath rushed out in a low groan. “I will go with you.” He continued to stare at the screen.
“No, Jaer. I need you here.” Cale held up his hand when Jaer faced him. “The fighting on Arranon will begin as well. I want my best man here to lead the ground operation.” Cale smiled. The corners of his mouth trembled, turning to a frown. “It’s your strength.” He twisted his head to look out over his gathered officers.
Jaer glared at the screen and nodded. This was it—the end. Cale knew it as well as he did. He wouldn’t go without a fight, without talking a few of the aliens with him. He tipped his head, stare
d at the screen, and frowned. A faint orange glow began at one end of Newell’s ship. The color intensified and blossomed, flowing across the length to explode out the other end. “Cale,” he called in a rising voice. “What is happening?”
An excited voice burst from the speakers of the DVSL. “Cale. I have contact with Erynn. The ships. Wait, I’m directing the transmission to you.” Several clicks followed. Static sounded through the room.
“Do… copy?” Erynn’s voice came cracked and broken over the speakers, but it was unquestionably the most beautiful sound Jaer had ever heard.
Warmth swarmed through him. His legs felt weak. His heart began to beat again.
The quiet of the room turned to deathly silence. “Erynn, where are you?” Cale shouted.
“…Ships…” Static flared. “…women and children…” Silence followed, a long interminable stretch of utter quiet. The speakers buzzed. “Not an attack, repeat, this is not an attack. Korin tower, this is Lieutenant Erynn Yager on board one of the ships approaching your coordinates. I have refugees, women and children. Do you copy?”
“Erynn, this is Cale. I copy you. Loud and clear.”
Jaer took in a deep breath and let the air shudder out slowly. A loud cheer went up among those gathered.
“She did it,” Cale whispered into the wild uproar.
“Cale!” The relief in Erynn’s tone was evident. “The Andor, Newell’s ship is destroyed. Newell is dead, along with his men. The only ones left are on Korin and Arranon. Think you can handle them?”
Cale laughed. “We’re on it, Erynn.” The noise level in the room increased, everyone cheering, yelling, and slapping each other on the back.
“Hey, sounds like you’re having a party there.” She chuckled. “Wait for me.”
“Erynn, this is your party. See you on Korin.” Cale spun to his desk and punched his communication console. “Get me Korin Control. I want to talk with General Brayton. STAT.”
“Yes, sir,” a metallic voice answered.
Cale straightened, staring out over the men and women packed into his office. They quieted, and their expressions sobered. “Contact all of Arranon. Tell our people it’s time to fight. We will take back our worlds.” The room emptied. The ensuing silence dropped like a weight. Cale turned to Jaer. “You’ll come to Korin when you’re finished here.”
Jaer smiled and hurried from the office.
***
A line of ships filled the scramble pad, the runway, and every flat bare opening of land as far as Erynn could see. Early-morning light cast a purple shade over the tarmac. The air was cool, scented with so many wonderful aromas that Erynn thought she might grow dizzy trying to inhale so deeply of each one. She stepped from the ramp, onto this familiar yet somehow foreign place, winding her way toward the hangar at a trot. The hatch of each ship was open. No one but her had emerged.
General Brayton marched forward with a contingent of guards out of the dim interior of the long, wide hangar. He scowled at her as usual. It didn’t matter. He could say what he wanted. Nothing, not even Brayton, would ruin the elation she felt right now.
Brayton and his men stopped in front of her. He glanced beyond where she stood, his gaze roaming over the ships. He took in a deep breath and his brown eyes narrowed, his penetrating gaze returning to her. “Welcome home, Lieutenant.” He smiled, a first in Erynn’s memory. He gestured to her blood-soaked uniform. “Do you have casualties?”
“No, sir.” She glanced over her shoulder and opened the tunnel of her abilities, and a rush of sensations washed over her. “They’re scared, unsure, mostly just overwhelmed by all that’s happened.” Her own emotions fought their way to the surface when she remembered Faylen, dead in the ship. Her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropped to the ground. “No one’s hurting now, sir.” Erynn bit her lip, sucked in a breath, stood to attention, and saluted. “Sir, permission to remove a body from one of the ships. I’m requesting he be treated with the highest respect and full honors. I’ll be taking him to Arranon for burial.”
Brayton stood to attention and saluted. “Permission granted, Lieutenant. At ease.” He frowned. “You’re leaving for Arranon? But you’ll be back. You’re needed—wanted—here Lieutenant… Erynn.
“Thank you, sir. But it’s time for me to live on my other home for a while. I’m needed and wanted there, too.”
Brayton nodded. “I understand, at least I’m trying to. General Athru trusted me with the particulars regarding you and your talents, about all the children of mixed parentage. It’s quite…” he paused, his smile returning, “remarkable. And a secret I will keep until the time is right.”
Erynn gazed past him as more men and women in military uniforms emerged from the hangar at a run. She took a step back. “Sir, is Korin safe? What about the infiltration?”
“We are secure here, Erynn,” his gaze locked on her, “now.” He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her toward the hangar. “Everyone on Korin and Arranon heard your distress call. We realized Newell’s ship was exploding. That’s when I received an urgent communication from General Athru. Those of us waiting for the opportunity struck out against Newell’s men. We fought—are fighting. Battles are happening all over Korin, as they are on Arranon. We are taking back what is ours.”
“How do you know who can be trusted?”
“That was easy to figure out after the invasion started. Newell’s people didn’t hide who they were anymore. The traitors came out at the same time, flaunting their imagined superiority.” Brayton chuffed and shook his head. “There weren’t many that fell for the lies Newell propagated.”
Erynn stopped. “What about Senator Drake?”
Brayton held up his hand. “He’ll be dealt with, Erynn. All of them will be dealt with.” The cold, bitter edge in his voice was exactly what Erynn wanted to hear. His tone softened. “I have medical and integration teams standing by. My people will take good care of everyone that came with you.” He sighed and stared into the rising sun. “And today, this is again my command.”
Erynn smiled up at him. “Cale said he would meet me here.”
“Yes, General Athru will come to the base when he’s finished. He, along with several other pilots, flew Interceptors to Korin to assist cleaning out the last vestiges of this disease. The invasion was much worse here.” He glanced out across the empty hangar and smiled. “Maybe he’ll bring back the Interceptors he took from me.” He gazed at her and chuckled. “Cale… that old aurdag.” Admiration and amusement added warmth to his voice.
The roar of fighters flying low and fast overhead caused Erynn to glance out the open bay doors.
“That would be Balta squadron returning from Gauliman, another successful mission on our part.”
Balta was her father’s old squadron. Erynn nodded and watched them circle the airstrip. “Appropriate,” she whispered.
“Come on. You look like you could use some rest.”
“I appreciate your concern, sir, but Faylen.” She inhaled quickly. “I’ll stay with him, see to this myself.”
“He’s important to you?”
Erynn narrowed her eyes. “Faylen saved Korin and Arranon.” She glanced out at hundreds of ships. “He saved everyone here.” She stared into Brayton’s face. “He is important to all of us, sir. Faylen’s courage and sacrifice should never be forgotten.”
“Of course, Erynn. But from what General Athru tells me, you had something to do with this, too.”
“I only helped Faylen find what was already there inside him, waiting to come forward. He did the rest.” She smiled. “Very much like what someone did for me.”
Brayton’s expression became serious. “He will be given a hero’s welcome with full recognition of his triumph. The glory of this day and every anniversary of this date will be Faylen’s.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“There is another day marked on our worlds, Erynn, for your father—for Damon. He also died with courage and honor.”
She cou
ld no longer contain the mounting sorrows—for her dad, for Faylen, for the children dead on the Andor, and for everyone who’d lost their lives. Tears blurred her vision and flowed freely down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away as she stared out over the scene. Men, women, and children came from the ships, turning toward the bright, warm sunshine. The children squinted at the brilliance, touching their faces with splayed fingertips, smiling.
Lieutenant Parin walked from the center of the massing people—his youth more evident without the constant fear and worry he’d live under. “Thank you, Erynn, from all of us. Thank you Bakaron.”
“Bakaron?” Erynn tipped her head, smiled, and sniffed.
Parin grinned. “Some of the Ingalin children started calling you Bakaron.” He chuckled. “The name stuck.” He shrugged. “Bakaron means storm in their language.”
Erynn laughed through her tears. “Well, I guess that works.”
***
Erynn stayed in the control tower, listening to one report of victory after another. The enemy was falling. Without reinforcements of limitless personnel and advanced weapons from the Andor, the people of Korin and Arranon gained the advantage by sheer numbers over this technically superior alien. Dominion didn’t come without sacrifice. There were loses, but they were not in vain.
She left the control tower after hearing the largest battles on Arranon and Korin had ended. The war was over. She breathed out all the tension and rolled her neck. Newell’s men were either dead or detained, and the traitors that hadn’t been captured would soon be in cells. It was only a matter of time before reports of their whereabouts poured in. No loyal citizen would aid those that had dishonored and abandoned their worlds.
Erynn leaned against the open hangar door, waiting for Cale and gazing over the scramble pad flooded in the late-afternoon sun. Crews had removed the Andor’s transfer ships to secured buildings, and the area was once again empty. Balta and Omegan squadrons’ Interceptors filled this side of the bay. Crews inspected each fighter while listening to the pilots recount in detail their near misses and magnificent daring with much laughing and loud, excited voices.
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