by Linda Mooney
“Better listen to him,” Star broke in. “Damn thing will eat your breakfast for you if you’re not careful. Hunter … something’s wrong.”
Everyone onboard stopped what they were doing to listen.
“What, Star?”
“I’m getting … I’m getting this itchy feeling all over my skin.”
Hunter shook his head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘itchy feeling’?”
“Something magnetic. Polarizing. I can’t explain it. I’m not wearing my suit, so I can’t deflect it, but I can feel it.”
“Could it be because of the storm?”
They could hear her let out a long sigh. “That’s probably it. That, and nerves.”
“Wait a minute!” Corona got to her feet and froze. “First Commander Vosstien?”
“Present,” came the voice over the speakers.
“How many ships were spotted?”
“Eight.”
“Eight? By all that’s holy, where’s the ninth ship?” Challenger blurted out.
A sense of impending dread began to steal over Hunter, like a widening pool of sickness. “Dad, verify eight ships. We need to know if any of the ships are larger than the others!”
“Fifth fleet! Give us a visual confirmation! How many enemy ships do you see?”
“Eight, First Commander!”
“Are any of the ships larger in size or scope?”
“No, First Commander! All ships are identical in size and shape. They look mighty pretty, like a bright chain of jewels on a necklace.”
Breathing suddenly became a painful effort. Hunter turned a pale face to Deceiver, who whispered, “Where is the mothership?”
“We can’t worry about that,” Commander broke into the moment. “Park this thing and let me get the disrupter outside. Let’s kick some nonexistent Ombitra butt!”
As Hunter brought the ship to a standstill, the others climbed into protective gear and untied the machine from its moorings. Slipping on his own oxygen suit, Hunter adjusted an extra headset over his ear.
“Star, do you copy?” A steady stream of static answered him. “Star?”
“Ombitra craft on the move,” Vosstien warned. “They’re breaking formation!”
“Copy that!” Commander yelled from outside the hull. “Hunter, roll the ship to give this thing as wide a path as possible.”
“Copy, Commander,” Hunter said, dropping back into his seat to perform the maneuver.
“Give me ten more degrees!”
“Ten degrees. Check.”
“That’s it! Hold! All right. Let’s see if this thing can at least give them a headache.”
A loud humming filled the spacecraft, sending vibrations down to the bone as the disrupter spewed its flow of depolarizing magnetic waves. Space appeared to shimmer where the stream sliced through it.
Hunter glanced down. “Computer confirms a direct hit!”
“Then tell us which one!” Condemner barked.
Glancing out the viewscreen, those left inside could see the eight vessels converging on the first planet. None appeared damaged or slowed down by the disrupter.
“Looks like they’re heading for Tor Sigura One,” Vosstien announced.
“Any reaction to the disrupter on your fleets?” Hunter called out.
“Negative. Can that thing go up another notch or two?”
“Copy on the notch,” Commander replied. “Moving the trigger to the top position. Hold on to your helmets, everyone! Firing in three, two, one, now!”
The humming no longer hummed, but wailed. It was a low, deafening roll of thunder that filled their heads and threatened to vibrate their brains out of their skulls. For ten seconds the disrupter screamed through the void of space before shutting itself off. Another ten seconds passed as the Guardians gathered themselves back into a whole.
“We have another hit,” Hunter informed those outside.
“Copy that. Second from left!” Challenger crowed.
In the distance, the ship indicated appeared to be struggling. “Challenger, can that thing go again?” Deceiver yelled.
“Yeah, but can we take it?”
“Udo!”
The cry came over the speakers and every headset being worn. Hunter felt his gut turn into solid ice. “Star?” The connection was poor at best.
“They’re here!” Star cried out.
“Who’s there? Who?”
“Ombitra!”
Time Merchant scowled. “Huh? How?”
“Can you give us a visual?” Deceiver called to her. “Run the antenna from the roof! Merchant! Throw it on the viewscreen!”
The front window at the nose of the cruiser went black as they waited for the connection to reach them.
“Commander, what’s the enemy doing?”
“Just hanging there,” Commander answered.
“First Commander Vosstien, are you and your fleets still at ready?”
“Just aim us and fire.”
On the viewscreen the blackness dimmed to gray. Slowly, as if the camera was peering through heavy fog, a bulky shape began to take shape at the upper edge of the screen. Hunter felt the ice encasing his heart and lungs.
“Oh, dearest heavens, no…” Seeker sobbed. “No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no!”
Slowly, inexorably, the immense Ombitra mothership was descending toward the planet, almost directly on top of Guardian Command.
“Star! Get into Transport One and get the hell out of there!” Hunter yelled.
“It’s too late!” Her voice came faintly over the speakers. “It has some sort of cloud adhering to the underside of its hull! It’s burning everything on its way down! It’s … oh, dearest mother … listen! Can you hear them?”
“Hear what?” Hunter asked, pressing his headset tighter into his ear with one hand.
They all strained to listen.
Faintly. In the distance. Screaming. An indefinable roar. Shrieks of agony. People dying as the Ombitra closed in.
“Star! You’ve got to get out of there!”
She was weeping uncontrollably. “I can’t, Hunter. The ship has blanketed the whole city with this burning cloud. I can’t tell how far it extends.” She coughed, then gasped for breath as she made an adjustment. The antenna swung downward, and they could see the tops of buildings taking on a rim of black outlined in glowing red. As the cloud pressed lower and lower to the ground, the rim of burning iridescence ate through the structures as cleanly as a knife passing through the air. The tops of trees caught fire, then completely disappeared as the rim devoured its way downward.
The sound of screaming grew louder as more people were caught in the sweeping, overwhelming destruction. And as many of them sought refuge from the beautiful ship of death, they were melted into hissing mounds as surely as if they had been tossed into the heart of the sun.
Hunter felt his legs go out from under him, and he fell onto his knees beside his chair.
“This itching is unbearable, Hunter,” Star’s tear-filled voice filtered through. Overhead, the viewscreen blacked out when the rim digested the antenna. It wouldn’t be long before it took out the communications tower, breaking their contact with each other.
“Terrin … please … whatever you have to do…” he begged softly, knowing she was trapped. There was no escape for her. No escape for any of them.
“It has a magnetic base,” she tried to let them know. “But it gets its power from the sun. Block the sun, Hunter! Don’t use the disrupter. Block! The! Sun!”
“Star, save yourself!” Deceiver called out.
“I have no choice!” she cried. “I can’t let all these people die, when there’s a chance I can stop it!” She tried to control her sobbing, but her terror and despair filled the interior of the transport ship as surely as if she had been standing among them. “You know the Ombitra won’t stop until it has scorched everything to the ground. I have to stop it. I have to try!”
“Star, if you use your powers, you’ll kill the
baby!” Morning Fire called out. Her shoulders were shaking as her heart went out to the woman trapped in an inescapable dilemma.
“I have no choice!” Star called out. The signal began to falter, snapping and popping in their ears. “Udo!” Her signal was faint and barely audible. “Please … my love … forgive me!”
The signal vanished, leaving behind the white noise of space.
Hunter buried his face in his hands as the enormity of what was happening back on their home world bore down on him. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t react. His body refused to move from where he had collapsed. Chills ran throughout his body, until he thought he would pass out.
In the distance he heard Challenger repeating, “Block the sun! She said to block the sun!”
“Copy that!” Vosstien’s trembling voice came over the speakers. “We can take these warheads and explode them to form a curtain between the Ombitra and Tor Sigura. Fleet One! Navigate two two eight zero degrees!”
The fleets of spacecrafts broke into four separate formations under the command of the man leading them. Because the tiny one-man fighters were faster and more agile than the larger, bulkier Ombitran vessels, they were able to dodge and regroup within minutes behind the glittering ships.
“Udo! We need you to bring the cruiser up from behind those moons, and set yourself up as a target. Give us some sort of diversion! Udo? Udo!”
“C-copy.”
Where he got the strength, Hunter had no idea. His mind was a void, without thought other than the vision of Star’s face floating in the foreground. Hot tears refused to let him see the control panel, and he swiped at them to clear his vision long enough to bring the ship out of hiding.
His brain went on automatic, giving the Ombitra a ready and willing target. As the chain of ships drifted into their necklace formation, the fleets from Abernath fired three rounds of magnetized warheads into a rectangular pattern.
As Star had predicted, the magnetic influx negated the power source the ships needed to navigate. Like falling leaves, the Ombitran ships fluttered and slowly began to drift off in different directions, unable to stabilize themselves, or to regroup.
“On my count, fire at will!” Vosstien yelled. “Mark! Three! Two! One! Fire!”
Outside, Commander opened the disrupter, aiming it dead center on the nearest droplet-shaped vessel. The Ombitran ship shook and shimmered, helpless without energy or the ability to defend itself. A billion tiny cracks seemed to creep over the hull, spreading and flowing outward in a widening pattern. Another violent shake, and the craft came to a dead standstill. All light went out of it, leaving a grayish, freely floating chunk of debris. No longer powerful. And no longer a thing of beauty.
In the distance, a second, then a third ship fell to the Squadron’s unrelenting attack. A fourth. A fifth. One by one all eight vessels were extinguished as the Guardians watched.
And all became utterly still as one final thought entered everyone’s minds.
What was waiting for them when they returned home?
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 30
Loss
A hand settled on his shoulder. It took a bit for him to realize he was still sitting on the floor of the transport.
“Hunter?”
It was difficult to concentrate. The iciness that had stopped his heart and frozen his blood was gone, but the chill remained. How could he ever be warm again, with Terrin gone?
“Hunter.”
Blinking slowly, Hunter lifted his face to see Deceiver staring down at him. The man’s eyes were filled with concern and grief.
“It’s over. The Ombitra have been defeated. If it took them four years to recuperate from losing their one ship, it will take them longer than our lifetimes to recoup after today. Take a seat. Disaster will pilot us back home.”
Hunter took a deep breath. His muscles wouldn’t move at the moment. Wouldn’t obey his mental commands. He was no longer master of his own body.
He could still feel her body against his. Still sense her on his skin. The last time they had made love had been hurried but blinding, filled with burning kisses, soft laughter, and tender words.
A pair of steellike hands gripped him by the arm and helped him into the seat behind the pilot’s seat. Star’s seat. The seat she had occupied yesterday. The seat she had curled up in when they had found out she was carrying their child.
“Thanks, Condemner,” he whispered.
“Anytime, my friend,” came the gruff reply.
There was the sound of someone crying somewhere behind him. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the present, but the past was too strong.
He had promised Star he would try to return to her. He would keep that promise. He was returning, but she would not be there waiting for him.
Please … my love … forgive me!
She was a Guardian. She took her oath above anything and anyone. She knew she had no choice but to try to stop the Ombitra mothership from destroying their world. Even if it meant her own death, and the death of their unborn daughter. Her last words to him begged his forgiveness for what she was going to do.
“Merchant?” he managed to say aloud.
“Yeah, Hunter?”
The ship shook violently as it entered hyperspace. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hunter made a note to give Disaster pointers on how to make that entry a bit smoother.
“How far are we from Command?”
“At this moment, sixty-seven point eight parsecs.”
Condemner immediately spoke up. “Hey, no way, Hunter! Don’t even begin to think about transporting yourself that far!”
“We’re in hyper light drive,” Time Merchant reminded him. “Wait until we come out of it.”
A shudder went through him. Someone gave his shoulder a squeeze from the seat behind.
“My father?”
“His last transmission said the fleets were returning to Abernath, but that he would be seeing you soon. We kind of got the impression he’ll be hopping a starliner as soon as he can to come be with you.”
Hunter managed a nod. That sounded like his family. They would come to give their love and support. Star would have adored being part of his family. It was the kind of home life people dreamed of, with two parents who were still crazy about each other, and a sibling who teased and fought and argued and shared a thousand memories with him. Hunter counted himself blessed for having that kind of childhood. And when he had found out the kind of empty childhood Star had suffered, he knew she needed the stability they could offer, and which he could bring her.
It had taken him a while, but once he realized he was in love with her, Hunter knew what his life was meant to be. What his life should be. He wanted that same kind of home life that his parents had given him. He wanted to cherish Star, and with their love, bring their children into the world to raise and teach. Forty, fifty, sixty years down the way, he could see themselves, still crazy about each other, despite time’s passing.
He shook his head. Nonsense, Udo. You’re thinking madness. Stop it. Stop right now.
There was whispering all around him. The others were trying to keep him from hearing. Someone sniffed, then there was another. More crying. Hunter suspected there was more he was unaware of.
He couldn’t shed any tears. No yet. Not here, and certainly not now. The coldness remained locked inside of him, and he was almost thankful for its numbing effect on his heart. But once it thawed, he knew he could not stay at Guardian Command much longer. At least, not until he could stand to walk the halls and not see the shadow of her spirit beside him. Not until he could sit in his chair in the meeting hall and not hear her voice echo in the room. Not until he could sleep through the night and not feel her in his arms, lying warm, sweaty, and sated on his chest.
“Coming out of hyper light in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Mark.”
The ship did another sideways lurch, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel a tiny smile tug at the corner of his mout
h.
“Hunter, we’re less than a parsec away,” Deceiver announced. The news sent a surge of power and purpose through him. He managed to unbuckle his harness and get to his feet. “I’ll meet you there,” he told the Guardian leader, then disappeared to race to the surface to find what remained of their world. Of his world.
The netherworld tunneled through space like a protective inner chamber, keeping him safe from extreme cold or heat, keeping him oxygenated, keeping him alive. Hunter raced straight to the one place he had last known her to be—Command Central.
As the room opened up, he stepped from nowhere into normal space, and the first thing that struck him was the smell. It was the smell of a million fires burning every object within reach. Burning everything with equal indiscrimination—buildings, trees, animals. Human flesh. The stench was suffocating. It was almost second nature to gag at the overpowering odor.
It was the smell of charred things still smoking from the destruction wreaked upon them.
Hunter blinked. Command was still standing. It had not been scorched to the earth, as he thought it would be. That could only mean one thing.
Star had succeeded.
But at what price?
“Star?” he yelled aloud.
At the console the seat was facing away. Her headset lay on the floor where she’d thrown it in her haste to leave.
He forced himself to center himself and look for her. Or look for some trace of her. That was his power, his ability. Look, Hunter. Look and find where she went. Focus. Concentrate. Where she could be at this moment. If there’s the least little bit of her remaining on this planet, find it.
His skin flashed, then drew tight. It was if every pore on his body opened up to find her trail.
Outside.
Something was drawing him outside. It called to him as surely as if he could hear it with his ears.
Outside.
A beeping sound drew his attention back to the communications console. The transport bay doors were opening, meaning Three was about to dock. Turning, Hunter headed for the outside door. Once he opened up the door and stepped outside, the full impact of the destruction stunned him into immobility.
The city was covered in thick gray smoke from fires that continued to burn. But there was no massive Ombitran mothership descending. Instead, the sun shone brightly as it always did in the late afternoon.