Fall of Icarus bod-2

by Jon Messenger

  “You might want to take your hand off me,” Yen warned.

  “Let’s get something straight,” Buren said, though he did release Yen’s arm. “I don’t like you.”

  “What did I ever do to you?”

  “What did you do to me?” Buren asked in shock. “Do you know what happened to me after our mission? I got admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Apparently, someone told them I was having trouble adapting to the stresses of war.”

  Yen frowned, knowing that his own testimony had been damning toward Buren’s mental state.

  “I rotted in an institute for months before they decided I was fit to be released. The entire time I was there, I was left alone. No roommate. No friends. Just me, in a room full of objects so childishly secure that I couldn’t have given myself a paper cut. Do you know what people do when they spend months inside their own head? They relive the horrors that put them there in the first place.”

  Yen wanted to feel sorry for the Uligart, but had trouble battling through his own dislike for the self-depravation.

  “I know where this is going,” Yen seethed. “What happened wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t…” Buren began, before pausing in disbelief. “It wasn’t your fault? I was stuck in that outpost with you, while those things tried to tear their way in and eat us. I heard your teammates talking. I heard your boss talking about the Captain. It didn’t take a genius to put it all together. Something your team did led to us being slaughtered like animals on that planet. And, as far as I can tell, you’re the only member of your team left. So like it or not, everything is your fault!”

  Yen was done with the conversation, knowing that anything he said would lead down a dangerous path. Infuriated, he pushed past Buren and toward the rear of the Cair ship.

  “This time around, let’s try something different,” Buren said as Yen walked away. “I figure that so long as you’re willing to take orders from me, we might just make it out of this alive. That would be a pleasant change for you, wouldn’t it? Actually leaving with your team alive?”

  Yen stopped without turning toward the Uligart, anger seething just below the surface of his skin. He could feel the psychic energy crawling along his nerves, setting fire to his joints and muscles. Biting the inside of his lip, Yen bit back his anger and tried to respond tactfully. “You know, I think you and the Revolution’s Tactical Officer would be fast friends. However, he’s not here, nor was he selected to lead this assault. I was. And whether you like it or not, I am your boss now. Whether or not you like me, when we are in front of the soldiers you will act as though you have never had a better friend than me.”

  Yen turned to face Buren, his anger unmasked. “The first time I hear even the least little bit of dissent or insubordination, I’ll push you out of the first airlock I can find.” Yen let his eyes flash a dangerous blue as he continued. “Is there anything you didn’t understand about that?”

  Buren glared, but said nothing. Turning sharply, the Uligart walked on board the Cair Thewlis. Yen watched him disappear into the dimly lit gloom of the ship’s interior, his mind awhirl with Buren’s words. Though he would have never believed it, Buren must have overheard Yen and Vance talking about the disk. Suddenly, the survivor’s guilt Buren felt made significantly more sense. But it also left Yen in a delicate position. If Buren told others what he knew, there would be an inquiry. It could ruin Yen’s reputation and career. A darkness spread its fingers across Yen’s mind, finding root in the darker recesses of his mind. Frowning, Yen stared at the interior of the ship, into which Buren had disappeared. Someone needed to teach the Uligart an important lesson, Yen thought. Knowledge is power, but it can also be a very dangerous thing in the wrong hands.

  Shaking away the darker thoughts, Yen stepped on board the Cair Thewlis, closing the ship’s rear hatch as he did. His eyes quickly adjusted to the interior, which was lit by ambient red light being cast from the warning lights positioned throughout the crew compartment. All of his team sat in their seats, their bodies appearing bulky under the thick body armor they all wore. Large caliber rifles and explosives were strewn in the spaces between the seats. Scanning the crowd, Yen made sure to make eye contact with each member of his strike force, stopping finally when his eyes fell upon Buren. Even seated across the compartment from Yen, the psychic could feel the Uligart’s piercing glare. Ignoring him, Yen addressed his team.

  “This will be your final brief before we get the go ahead for launch,” he yelled into the spacious ship. From over his right shoulder, a display lowered from the ceiling and began glowing. Slowly, a representation of Earth appeared on the screen.

  “As you are all aware, our team has been tasked with an important mission. Once we have warped behind Earth’s defenses, the rest of the Cair ships will be dropping their teams in surgical strikes throughout the planet. Our mission, however, is a search and capture. There is a Terran scientist of great importance that the High Council wants alive.”

  The screen behind him changed, zooming in on the eastern coast of one of the large continents. The screen continued to enlarge until the team could make out specific city blocks. “Our intel has provided us the location of the scientist’s laboratory. It is located here, on the outskirts of a large open park in the middle of the Terran capital city.”

  “Sir,” one of the team members asked from Yen’s right.

  “You have a question?” Yen asked.

  “Sir, what do we know about this park?” the Wyndgaart soldier asked, pointing at the odd architecture present throughout the park. “One of those items in the park looks quite a bit like a missile silo.”

  Yen nodded. “I saw the same thing when it was briefed to me. I have been promised, however, that everything in this park is harmless. The square lake, the silo, the dome… they’re all artifacts of a former Terran government that ruled the continent before the Senate was created.”

  Turning his attention away from the soldier, Yen addressed the rest of the team again. “Our approach will not be easy. We’ll be relying heavily on the Duun fighters to eliminate most of the anti-aircraft weapons along the coastline. Once we get past their batteries, we’ll set down here, a few blocks from the park. We can expect a resistance from the Terran home guard, but they shouldn’t cause us too much trouble.

  “Our job is straightforward. Capture the scientist and return him to the High Council. Everything else is secondary. While we are performing our mission, everyone else will be occupying the Terran ground forces in order to buy the couple of hours it will take for the rest of the Fleet to arrive. In less than forty-eight hours, Earth will be ours.”

  The soldiers erupted in cheers. Yen felt their elation, knowing that he could lead the assault that puts an end to the Terran war, once and for all. Yet, for all his joy, he found his gaze falling back on Buren, who glowered from his seat, not sharing in the cheering of the others. Walking up the aisle, Yen passed Buren and paused at the cockpit door before turning back toward his men.

  “Leaders, perform a pre-combat check on your men’s gear. We’ll be launching in less than ten minutes.”

  Stepping into the cockpit, Yen let the door slide closed behind him, cutting off the chatter that seeped from the crew compartment. Feeling weary, Yen collapsed into the co-pilot’s chair and leaned his head back against the head rest.

  “That was a pretty good speech,” Pelasi mentioned as he ignited the engines. The Cair Thewlis rolled from its berth in the hangar bay and took its place among the other ships, which filled the center of the cavernous room.

  Without responding, Yen stared at the closed doors at the far end of the room, the ones that, when open, would launch his entire Squadron into space. A myriad of worries weighed heavily on Yen’s mind. His concerns over the warp technology collided with his pining for Keryn, which quickly intermingled with his new worries over Buren and the knowledge he possessed. Yen wracked his brain, searching for a simple answer that would solve all his problems. His powers crawled thr
ough his skin, offering Yen the answer he needed, if only he had the strength of will to use them. Instead, Yen closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly together. He remained in that position until the radio crackled to life.

  “Commander Xiao,” Captain Hodge called. “You are a go for launch.” She paused, as though pondering whether or not it would be appropriate to continue. In the end, she cast aside her doubts. “May the Gods watch over and protect you.”

  Yen flipped a switch, activating his Squadron communications channel. As the Commander for the entire group of invading Duun and Cair ships, Yen’s transmission was carried over multiple Cruisers. “All ships, we are a go for launch. Proceed with caution to the coordinates. Never forget that we are now past the Demilitarized Zone and well into Terran space. Expect anything.”

  At the end of the room, the door cracked open, revealing a sea of stars beyond the open bay of the Revolution. One by one, the fighters first, the ships poured from the Revolution and all the nearby Cruisers. Yen looked cautiously left and right as the Cair Thewlis launched into space, half expecting a Terran ambush to be waiting around every corner. To his amazement, the space as far as their scanners could reach appeared empty.

  The Alliance had selected this launch point for many reasons. Not the least of which was that, at full acceleration, a Cruiser could reach Earth in just over twenty-four hours. Were it not for the distractions that pulled the Terran Fleet away from Earth, the Alliance Fleet would have never been able to approach so close without being engaged. As it was, the Alliance had a clear approach to the Terran’s greatest stronghold.

  The Squadron spread out, filling the nearby space with its small ships. They seemed insignificant against the dark velvet of deep space, but carried a massive arsenal capable of leveling the major cities throughout the Terran home world. In these small ships, death for the enemies of the Alliance sat in each of the pilot’s seats.

  Yen could feel sweat beading on his brow and he clenched and unclenched his fist. The next step in their battle plan was obvious, but scared Yen badly. Try as he might, Yen was unable to shake the mental images that he had seen in the mind of the warp technology scientist: twisted animals and dismembered bodies. That damnation was only a push of a button away for his Squadron. As much as they stood a chance at raining death down upon the Terrans, Yen stood an equal chance of sending all his men to their deaths.

  “Squadron Commander,” Captain Hodge called over the radio. “Is there a problem?”

  Yen ignored her call and, instead, switched his channel back to the internal Squadron net. “All ships, activate your warp generators.”

  Across Yen’s field of vision, hundreds of small, red wormholes appeared, hovering only a few dozen feet in front of each ship. Yen gripped his chair tightly as Pelasi activated the Cair Thewlis’ warp generator. A soft hum rolled through the ship, quickly followed by a pulse of energy. The pulse washed over Yen, leaving his body feeling alternately numb and charged with energy. In front of the ship, a red wormhole exploded to life, the event horizon open angrily like the hungry maw of a giant monster.

  Taking a deep breath, Yen activated the radio once more. “All ships, move forward and enter the wormholes.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Keryn skimmed the Cair Ilmun over the surface of the desert planet, watching intently toward the distant horizon and the small outpost town that marked their final destination. Below the ship, the exhaust from the engine kicked fine dust into the air and swayed the thick, resilient shrubbery that grew on the inhospitable surface of Pteraxis. Everything, from the clay-like dirt to the fine sand to the scraggly weeds, was cast in light tones of red, a result of the swollen red sun hanging bloated in the sky.

  Even on board the ship, Keryn could sense the sweltering heat outside. Mirages rose from the desert’s surface. Wavering images of distant lakes flickered near the horizon, only to disappear in the hot, shifting winds. A few rocky plateaus jutted from the desert floor in the distance and it was near the base of one of these that Keryn was heading. The unnamed town where Cardax had taken refuse sat in the spanning shadows of one of these plateaus, stealing whatever reprieve was offered from the oppressive heat of the afternoon sun.

  With the engines burning hot, Keryn quickly covered the distance to the plateaus. As she grew closer, the face of the planet changed. Within the shadow of the plateau, she saw more green grasses and small trees surviving in spite of the external temperatures. Living off the meager morning dew, the sturdy plants gleamed like a green oasis amidst the scrub brush and dirt that covered the rest of the planet. Flying closer, Keryn could see the shadow of the plateau shrinking as the bloated sun rolled toward the far horizon. Still in the crux of the shadow, buried into the base of the plateau’s cliff face, a small town of two story clay buildings appeared, their upper floors overburdened with wooden railings and balconies overlooking the streets below. The town stretched only a short way, consisting of fewer than fifty buildings and bearing only a pair of parallel roads leading lengthwise along the cliff. As Keryn scanned higher up the cliff face, she could see a switchback trail leading up toward the top of the plateau, though the trail was well concealed when viewed from a distance. Along its route, Keryn could see small cavern openings which she could only assume were the entrances to mine shafts.

  Her curiosity getting the better of her, Keryn tilted the wings of the Cair Ilmun as she approached the settlement. With the ship tilted perpendicular to the ground, the underside of the ship facing away from the cliff face, she had a much clearer view of the mines as she passed over the town. Even from her vantage point, Keryn could see the sparkle of mineral veins running along the cliff walls, often disappearing into the shaft entrances. A few dirt-stained faces peered outward from the dark recesses, drawn toward the light by the roar of her transport’s engines. They stepped out onto the switchback trail and out onto the scaffolding that supported the cliff walls. The scaffolding clung to the walls overlooking the town in a patchwork of timber and rope along the cliff face.

  Leveling out the ship, Keryn passed a few hundred feet above the town. It looked depressingly unexciting, with few people walking outdoors in the afternoon heat. As the sun crested over the protective shadow of the plateau, outdoor temperatures began rising to over one hundred and twenty degrees. Looking down at the one piece flight suit, Keryn was glad that she had brought more sensible clothing. The clothing would also help her blend into the surroundings and not appear quite so much like a Fleet officer, since somewhere in the quiet little desert town was an Oterian smuggler with a death wish.

  Quickly passing over the far side of town, Keryn followed the curve of the plateau until she came upon an open field, cleared of any shrubbery or rock outcroppings. There, spread along the desert floor, were cargo and transport ships, parked in the sand like a forgotten salvage yard. Keryn could recognize many of the ships. Some were former Wyndgaart transports or Oterian carriers, ships so old that they predated the creation of the Alliance. Though old, these sturdy ships were still flight worthy and capable of interstellar travel. Though their origins were different, they all shared a common bond: they had all been converted into merchant vessels. Their interiors had been gutted and opened to allow maximum cargo on each lift. The ships’ former lives had been forgotten; their transformations from warship to cargo vessel were completed at the whim of the ships’ new captains. Each captain had his or her preference on the specific vessels, some choosing an intimidating bulk while others chose the sleek forms and faster ships.

  As Keryn found her spot to land, she scanned the crews that mingled in and around the parked crafts. Some showed a genuine concern for the vessel as they applied new plating or sealants to the external hull. Others, she noted, seemed to be doing little more than showing the facade of busy work. These crewmen were little more than glorified guards, told to remain behind with the ship while the captains and rest of the crew enjoyed the entertainment the town had to offer. Still others forewent the illusion of tidy
ing their respective ships and stood by the external hatches, armed and wearing sour expressions. Keryn frowned as the landing gear extended on the bottom of the Cair Ilmun and they touched down on the surface of Pteraxis. She had hoped that there would have been some blatant identifying mark on one of the ships that would show her which of these belonged to Cardax. As it was, she would already have to waste time with her team searching through the city for one elusive Oterian. Finding his ship would have saved time.

  Mentally altering her plans, Keryn shut down the engine and unbuckled from the seatbelt webbing. Activating the radio, she called back to the rest of the crew, who she assumed was already busy preparing for their assault.

  “We’ve landed,” she said flatly. “Meet me in the common room in five minutes for the mission brief.”

  Turning off the radio, she opened the door to the crew compartment and passed into the dark, cool interior of the ship. As she had suspected, Keeling and Rombard were still enthralled in their game of Jach’tar, though both had already changed into civilian clothes for the mission. Keeling sat at an odd angle, as the rifle strapped to the Uligart’s leg made it awkward to sit normally. Tilted at an angle, Keryn noticed that he struggled with the controls of the game and was quickly losing to the more proficient and comfortably seated Oterian. Rombard held no illusions about stealthy operations, having his large automatic rifle resting against the wall beside him. Though Keryn was sure that the Oterian stood no chance of hiding such a large rifle underneath his jacket, she also doubted that he would even if it were possible. The Oterian thrived on striking fear into his enemies, and few things would do so as effectively as his oversized rifle.

  Passing the common room, Keryn turned into the hall and entered the living quarters. The narrow room was packed as the rest of the team changed out of filthy jumpsuits and into more comfortable clothing. Though the Cair Ilmun had a shower, it did little to wash away the permeating stench of so many sweaty bodies confined to so small a space. Changing quickly into her loose blouse, leather pants, and thin jacket, Keryn slid the magazine out of her pistol and checked ammunition before reloading the weapon and holstering it at her hip. With her jacket pulled around her, the bulge of the pistol virtually disappeared. By the time she was finished changing, she was alone in the room. Following the rest of the team, she found them all seated comfortably and impatiently near Keeling and Rombard, who were at the tail end of their game.