"We have allies," Rowan whispered, tears in her eyes. "Earth is not alone." She wiped away her tears. "Humanity still has friends."
The Concord fleet faced the darkness together, united, as Helios spun below.
And from the darkness they came.
Thousands of strikers.
The scorpion fleet was here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The strikers stormed forth, thousands of them, filling space with their wrath.
The human fleet and their allies hovered in place, facing them, waiting, shields up, cannons hot, hearts strong.
Rowan stood on the bridge of the Byzantium. She gripped the cannon controls, hands on the triggers, ready to aim and fire. Her heart pounded. Her knees shook. And yet her head felt surprisingly clear.
I'm ready. I'm a warrior. I will fight.
She inhaled deeply.
"Warriors of Earth!" Emet said, standing at the helm, transmitting his words across the fleet. "Show them no fear. Show them no mercy. Show them human pride! For Earth!"
From across the fleet, the voices rose. "For Earth!"
The strikers stormed closer. Closer still. At their lead flew a massive, triangular dreadnought. Rowan recognized it, and her heart fluttered. Here flew the Venom.
Jade's warship.
"The trap is set," Rowan whispered.
For an instant—silence.
She held her breath.
Then the thousands of strikers opened fire.
Rowan screamed and pulled her triggers.
A hailstorm of plasma hit the Concord fleet, blazing across the shields, blinding Rowan. She cried out and nearly fell as the Byzantium shook.
Rowan's cannons pounded. Her shells flew toward the enemy and slammed into the Venom, exploding against the hull.
An instant later, the rest of the Concord fleet fired their own guns
The human cannons pounded the enemy with blazing, hypersonic artillery. The Menorians' geode ships spun madly, and light gathered between their crystal hearts, then blazed outward with searing beams. The Gouramis' water-ships unfurled cannons like blooming sprouts. The slender guns spun, then hurled balls of crackling photons.
The barrage slammed into the strikers with fire and light and twisting metal. Several strikers fell back, crashed against other ships, and split open. Other strikers shattered under the impact. Scorpions spilled out, twitching, dying, then falling toward Helios and burning in its atmosphere.
Yet thousands of strikers remained. They kept charging and more plasma flew, a typhoon of fire.
As the inferno washed across the Concord fleet, Rowan screamed.
The Byzantium's shields superheated. Alarms blared. Warnings flashed across monitors. One of the cannons curled up, burning, melting. The ship rocked, and two Firebirds burned before them, falling apart in the blaze.
"Heirs of Earth—charge!" Emet cried.
The admiral shoved down the throttle.
The Byzantium roared forth, breaking through the wall of fire.
Around them, the other warships charged with them.
They stormed across space, cannons firing.
Plasma bolts slammed into them. Firebirds burned. A warship tore open. A corvette exploded, raining shards on nearby ships. Dozens died. Hundreds died. But still they flew, cannons firing, storming toward the enemy.
With explosions like supernovas, with shrieking sound and shattering metal, the two fleets slammed together.
The battle burst and expanded into a swarm of thousands of starships, swerving around one another, firing cannons, raining metal onto the moon below.
Rowan kept firing her remaining cannons. Emet flew the ship, zigzagging around the enemy. Their shells and missiles flew from all sides, tearing through strikers. A geode-ship fell apart at their side, showering crystal shards. A Gourami vessel cracked open, spilling water and floundering fish. A corvette rammed into a striker, shoving it against another scorpion vessel, until both enemy ships exploded. Husk after husk fell toward Helios, burning in the moon's atmosphere.
"Sir!" Rowan said, firing at a charging striker. "Should we fall to Helios?"
"Not yet!" Emet said. "Not until she sees us."
Rowan looked around, seeking her through the battle. Where was the Venom? Where was her sister?
A striker roared toward them. Rowan unleashed five missiles. They curved around the striker, turned, and entered the exhaust. The striker exploded seconds before it could hit the Byzantium. The pieces that remained hammered against their shields. Two other strikers flew from their starboard side. Rowan took out one, but the other rammed the Byzantium, denting the hull, nearly ripping off the shields. Drills began carving through the hull.
"Sir! They're trying to board us! Should we—"
"Not yet!" he said.
Rowan kept firing, but she was running low on missiles. All around, space swirled and burned with battle. Humanity's starfighters streaked around her, afterburners blazing, leaving trails of fire. Warships lumbered forth, cannons pounding the enemy. The strikers stormed everywhere, unleashing hellfire. Metal, glass, blobs of water, and burnt corpses floated through space. Helios kept grabbing debris with its gravity, tugging it down, then burning it in its atmosphere. Forests blazed on the moon's surface.
Drills whirred.
Behind Rowan, soldiers cried out, voices echoing in the cavernous hold of the Byzantium.
Scorpions screeched.
Gunfire rang through the tanker.
Rowan glanced over her shoulder. Her heart froze and shattered. The scorpions were racing into the hold, leaping onto the company of Inheritors.
"Rowan, fire those cannons!" Emet said.
"But the men—"
Emet glowered. "Concentrate on your task!"
She turned away from the battle in the hold. Ahead, strikers raced toward the Byzantium. Rowan grimaced and fired her last missiles. The projectiles swerved through space, hit the strikers from behind, and shattered them. The Byzantium plowed through the wreckage. Rowan was down to shells now—deadly yet crude explosives with no heat-seeking capabilities. She kept firing, and the Byzantium roared through the battle, seeking their prey, seeking the Venom. All the while, the battle continued in the hold, marines and scorpions screaming and killing and dying.
Finally—there!
"I see her!" Rowan shouted and pointed. "Up there! Behind the company of geode-ships!"
Emet nodded and raised their prow, rumbling up toward the sun. The Venom flew there, pounding the Menorian ships, scattering their crystals. Several smaller strikers flew around the dreadnought, battling human starfighters. Rowan narrowed her eyes, prepared to pound the enemy. To draw Jade's attention.
On the monitor ahead—a rising reflection. A creature behind her.
Rowan spun around, drawing Lullaby.
The scorpion pounced.
Holding the heavy pistol with both hands, Rowan fired.
Her bullet tore through the scorpion's skull and embedded itself in the bulkhead.
Two more scorpions raced onto the bridge. Behind them, Rowan glimpsed more of the aliens battling the marines in the hold. Lullaby vibrated, gears turning, as the railgun recharged. She fired again, the recoil nearly knocking her back, and took down another scorpion. A third beast leaped through the air. Rowan fired. Her bullet smashed through the scorpion's stinger, and venom sprayed across the cockpit, burning the bulkheads.
The alien, stinger shattered but jaws still snapping, slammed into Rowan.
She cried and fell against her dashboard, and the ship shook as all cannons fired.
Gripping the yoke with one hand, Emet turned and aimed his double-barreled rifle. He fired, knocking the beast off Rowan. Her ears rang. She rose in time to see more scorpions race onto the bridge. Emet and Rowan fired again and again, taking a few down.
One of the aliens reached Rowan. She fired several bullets through its torso, but it managed to scuttle toward her. Its pincers snapped, grabbed Lullaby, and tore the pistol
from her grip.
Rowan gasped and retreated until her back hit the dashboard.
The scorpion reared above her, claws raised. Its jaws opened in a lurid grin, dripping saliva. Emet was battling two other aliens nearby, unable to help. Venom had sprayed his shoulder, eating through his shirt to blister his skin.
"Rowan Emery," the scorpion hissed. Its saliva burned holes through the deck. "My mistress told me to fetch you alive. She will torture you herself. Your skin will hang in her hall."
Rowan stared into the eyes of the beast. Evil. There was pure evil there. These were creatures that delighted in torment, in agony. In its eyes, Rowan saw the death of humanity, saw herself flayed and dripping and dying, and her heart barely found the courage to beat.
You are ready.
You are strong.
You are a warrior of Earth.
She reached over her shoulder. She felt the cylindrical container that hung across her back.
She pulled out the electric cape.
As the scorpion lunged at her, Rowan unfurled the cape and swung it around the creature.
The cape snapped shut, crushing the scorpion, snapping limbs and claws, constricting the alien. Its head was still free, twitching, screeching, snapping its jaws.
Rowan lifted the fallen Lullaby and pulverized that shrieking head.
With another blast, she slew the scorpion Emet was fighting. The admiral nodded to her, then leaned against a wall, clutching his burnt arm, his jaw clenched.
In the hold behind them, the soldiers were slaying the last invaders and plugging the hull breaches. Rowan stared through the viewport. Above, she saw it—the Venom. The Skra-Shen dreadnought loomed, cannons blasting, taking out starfighter after starfighter.
The Byzantium, disguised as the Jerusalem, flew up to meet it.
The Byzantium was a full-sized frigate, the largest class of warship humanity owned. But the Venom was a dreadnought, a class above, a warship that could destroy worlds. There were only a handful of dreadnoughts in the galaxy, terrors of engineering. The Venom loomed twenty times larger than the Byzantium, and it turned to face the frigate.
The human starship hovered before the beast, a hornet before an eagle.
If we judged her right, Jade will try to take us alive, Rowan thought. If we're wrong, she'll shoot us out of space.
Around them, thousands of starships still battled. For an agonizingly long moment, the human and scorpion ships faced each other, still, two old enemies in a silent standoff.
And the Venom did not fire.
Rowan opened a communication channel.
A video feed appeared on her monitor, showing the Venom's bridge.
Rowan stared, eyes damp, heart pounding.
"Jade," she whispered.
Her sister sat on a throne upholstered with human skin. Hands, faces, and tufts of hair were still attached. Jade lounged lazily, one leg tossed across an armrest. She wore her suit of dark webbings. Her hair was shorter but still a striking blue, synthetic and glimmering like fiber optic cables, and her skin was like porcelain. The round implants buzzed and flashed on the shaved side of her head. Hundreds of scorpions filled her starship, scuttling around her.
"Hello, little Rowan, my lovely pest!" Jade said, raising a mug carved from a skull. Red liquid that looked disturbingly like blood swirled inside. "And hello, Emet, Old Weasel, commander of this vermin swarm. Are you ready to scream?"
Rowan stepped closer to the viewport. She stood right before the monitor, and it felt like standing face to face with Jade. Her sister was powerful, mighty, sitting atop a throne with an army of scorpions around her. Rowan felt much smaller, younger, and weaker, a mere girl with a secondhand uniform and an old pistol, flying inside a rusty old tanker. But Rowan stared steadily into her sister's eyes.
"You will never catch me alive, Jade," Rowan said. "You are human. Do you hear me, you are human. Nothing but a pest!"
Emet cut the transmission.
The admiral looked at Rowan. She nodded.
Emet shoved the throttle forward and charged toward the Venom, cannons firing.
Rowan hopped into her seat, snapped on her seatbelt, and fired a handful of shells.
They could not hurt the Venom, no more than a paper cut could take down a prizefighter. They knew it. But they attacked nonetheless.
The trap was sprung.
They rammed into the Venom, and its plasma fired, and the Byzantium trembled, and the galaxy seemed to burn.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
As Emet charged in the Byzantium, attacking the far-larger Venom, the madness of his plan struck him.
I'm going to die today.
He rammed again into the scorpions' dreadnought.
Rowan will die.
The Venom's plasma washed over his ship, cracking their shields.
We will all die.
Emet clenched his jaw. The inferno blazed across the Byzantium. In the holocaust, he saw all those he had lost. His dying wife. His dying soldiers. Visions of a dying Earth. As the Byzantium shook, as their shields cracked, and the Venom pounded them, Emet saw the death of humanity.
No.
He sneered and tugged the ship aside, scraping the prow against the Venom, raising clouds of sparks.
No!
Rowan fired her shells, hurling the Byzantium back into space, until the stern slammed into another striker, and more plasma pounded them.
NO!
Drills slammed into their hull, whirring, spinning, and the enemy prepared to board, to capture them, to flay them alive.
"No," Emet whispered.
He reached toward the control panel at his side. Rowan nodded and reached out too.
They pressed the button together.
A nuclear warhead—no larger than a matchbox—flew from their cannon and exploded.
White light.
Silence.
Raging inferno without a note of sound.
All around them, the strikers careened backward, melting.
The Byzantium's shields shattered, melted, burned off, revealing the inner hull of an old tanker.
And Byzantium fell.
She fell from the battle, spinning, tumbling, bathed in white light.
Emet dropped back into his seat. Rowan clung to her own seat, eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, the light washing over her.
They barreled through burning starships, knocking them aside.
Helios appeared through the devastation. The gravity caught the Byzantium, began tugging her down through the floating debris. The ship shook. Emet's teeth knocked together. His spine rattled. He clung to his control board, only his seat belt preventing him from slamming against the bulkhead. The light faded above. The shock wave was still knocking starships aside.
In the middle of the devastation, he saw the Venom.
As they had calculated, running the numbers again and again, the Venom still flew.
The dreadnought's shields were cracked open. Her hull had been breached. Burns spread across her, and a section of the prow was gone.
But the flagship of the scorpion army had been built to withstand even a nuclear assault. Jade was still alive.
And her flagship swooped, following the falling Byzantium.
The trap is sprung, Emet thought. You will be ours, Jade.
They crashed through floating debris and slammed into the atmosphere.
Fire blazed around them.
The Byzantium shook madly. Whatever remained of the shielding tore off. Wind shrieked through the starship. Control panels cracked. Monitors shattered. Rowan's seat tore free, and she screamed, flew through the cockpit, and Emet reached out and caught her before she could hit the bulkhead. He pulled her against him, wrapped her in his arms, and clung to his vibrating seat. He could barely see. His teeth, his bones, his brain all shook. He could no longer see anything but fire. Behind him, soldiers cried out, but their voices soon faded under the roar of denting, screeching, cracking metal. The hull was bending inward. The tan
ker, built only for travel in a vacuum, was crumpling like a tin can.
We will not die today.
Holding Rowan with one arm, Emet squinted and reached out, hand shaking. The G-forces seemed ready to rip off his arm. It took all his strength to grab the controls.
They were tumbling straight down now, shrieking through the sky, plunging toward the ground.
Roaring, Emet tugged the yoke back.
Their prow rose.
The G-force slammed into them like the hammer of a god.
Rowan lost consciousness.
A black veil fell. Emet was blind. He was losing consciousness too.
He forced in a breath, and the shadows cleared.
Holding the unconscious Rowan, he grabbed the throttle and shoved it forward.
Fire blazed from their exhaust pipes on full afterburner.
They stormed forward, ripping the sky, leaving a trail of flame that rained down onto the trees.
Helios was burning. The wreckage of other starships lay across the hills. More starships were raining from the sky, breaking up in the atmosphere, falling as flaming debris. Helios had been beautiful once. Now it was hell.
Rowan was waking up. The atmospheric entry had left her with swollen, bloodshot eyes. But she came to quickly, inhaling sharply, staring ahead.
"There." She pointed. "The canyon."
Emet saw it. The ravine snaked across the land. The place where they had drilled so often. The place where a hidden tunnel and shuttle awaited. The place where they would trap Jade.
He flew haphazardly, feigning loss of control. It had to look like a crash, not a landing. It wasn't hard to fake. Half their engines had gone out. The ship was careening, the hull punched with holes. The Byzantium was never meant to fly in an atmosphere period, let alone like this. Emet wasn't even sure he could land without killing everyone on board. Holding the yoke felt like wrestling a wild boar.
He glanced up, seeking pursuit. Smoke covered the sky, but he heard the shrieks of strikers.
"Jade is following," Emet said. "Good."
Rowan nodded, lips peeled back. "Let's do this."
Emet gave another boost to the engines. They plunged downward, rattling, losing more pieces of their hull, falling apart. Debris rained behind them, burning the trees below. Leaving a trail of black smoke, the Byzantium stormed toward the canyon. Closer. Closer. They grazed the trees along the ledge, shattering branches.
A Memory of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 2) Page 26