Starship Exodus (The Galactic Wars Book 7)

by Tripp Ellis

  Chloe ended the recording, then she watched it once to make sure it was good, then she clicked send. It zipped off over the subspace network, bouncing across the galaxy.

  “Your boyfriend?” Lily asked.

  Chloe nodded.

  “Is he supportive of your career choice?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ve sworn off boys. They are nothing but trouble. My last one couldn’t handle the whole fighter pilot thing. But he seemed to handle my college roommate pretty well.”

  “You caught him cheating with your roommate?” Chloe’s eyes were wide.

  Lily had a slight smile. “I’m really okay with it. It showed me exactly what type of guy I was dealing with. The kind I don’t want.”

  “I like your attitude. Always positive.”

  “Life is what you make it, right?”

  The next morning, PT was a little easier. Chloe and Lily hadn’t spent the evening before at Afterburners. Still, they were drenched in sweat by the time they finished the run and made it to the classroom.

  “That was better,” Cash said. “But still pathetic.”

  The cadets looked worn out.

  “As you may know, Commander Scott has suspended all training operations due to the new threat.”

  Some of the students, including Kilmer, groaned.

  “As such, he has bumped you up to a combat squadron.”

  The class erupted with hoots and hollers.

  “Before you get too excited, you’re just going to be learning the new equipment. Nothing fancy.”

  “Does this mean we’re flying Stingrays?” Kilmer asked.

  “Yes. This means you’ll be flying Stingrays. Fully armed, weapons hot. This isn’t a game anymore.”

  “Hell yeah!” Kilmer replied.

  “Your mission and flight plan have all been transferred to your PDUs. See you all on the tarmac.”

  The cadets filed out of the classroom, full of excitement.

  “I’ll say one thing, Johnson,” Kilmer said in the hallway. “At least you got us into the Stingrays. Try not to hurt yourself out there.”

  Her fiery eyes glared at him.

  “Ignore him,” Lily said. “It’s clear he has an inferiority complex.” She said it loud enough for him to hear.

  Kilmer flipped her off.

  Lily smiled. “Keep dreaming.”

  19

  Emma

  Emma strolled into the Wardroom at noon on Saturday. Her stomach fluttered like a schoolgirl. She almost turned around and left, nerves just about to get the best of her. What the hell was she doing here, she wondered? She glanced around inconspicuously, looking for Lieutenant Dylan Isaacs. But she didn’t see the handsome Marine anywhere.

  She deflated, exhaling with both disappointment and relief. The last thing she needed was a relationship. But she had spent an hour on her hair and makeup. It was a shame that was going to go to waste.

  Emma got a bowl of lobster bisque from the food fabricator. She never had real lobster before, so she didn’t have anything to compare it to. But it was a thick creamy soup, and it tasted pretty good. She sat down at a table and proceeded to eat her meal alone.

  “Starting without me? That’s not nice.”

  Emma had her mouthful. She couldn’t answer right away. She looked up to see Dylan’s brilliant smile. “I didn’t think you were going to show. Thought you might have been getting cold feet.”

  “I’m not afraid of a Special Agent.”

  “Maybe you should be,” Emma said with a sly smile.

  Dylan took a seat at the table.

  “Aren’t you going to get something to eat?”

  “At the rate you’re going, you’ll be done by the time I get back. Then what kind of date would this be?”

  Emma chuckled. “This is not a date.”

  Dylan quickly recovered, “Lunch date, that’s all.”

  “Go get something to eat. I’ll still be here when you get back. Probably.”

  Dylan laughed and ambled to the food fabricators. He returned a few moments later with fajitas. “I got two orders, so help yourself.”

  “Are you trying to fatten me up?” She arched a playful eyebrow at him.

  “I wouldn’t try to alter perfection.”

  Emma scoffed. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

  “I just call ’em like I see ‘em.”

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  Dylan shook his head. “Nope.”

  “How long have you been on deployment?”

  “Six months.”

  “That explains it. Just about anything looks good after six months.”

  Dylan’s face crinkled up. “It ain’t like that. You are a beautiful woman. You should own that.”

  “Thank you. I just don’t feel very pretty lately.”

  “Well, you look like you could use a little more sleep. But, don’t we all.”

  Emma furrowed her brow. “Hey, go back to beautiful.”

  Dylan chuckled. He took a bite of his fajita. “This is pretty good. You should try one,” he said with a mouthful.

  Emma eye’d the plate of beef fajitas. She grabbed a tortilla and rolled up a few strips of beef along with refried beans, rice, guacamole, pico de gallo, and topped it off with cheese.

  A wave of culinary delights danced across her tongue. Her eyes lit up with glee.

  “Not bad. Am I right?”

  Emma nodded, her mouth still full.

  “That’s damn near as good as the real thing. Some of the stuff is hit or miss here, but those are pretty spot on.”

  They ate for a moment in silence.

  “You know, they’re doing a replay of Devastator 2 in the rec room again tonight.” Dylan threw it out there casually. “It’s not too late.”

  Emma smirked. “I’ll think about it.”

  Dylan seemed pleased. He was going to take the little victories where he could. “Tyler Finn was in the audience last night. I had to get his autograph.”

  “You’re going to watch the movie two nights in a row?”

  “It’s a great movie. Plus, if you go along, I’ll be in good company.”

  Emma rolled her eyes, but she was enjoying lunch. Dylan seemed sincere in his interest.

  “Would you ever want to be famous?”

  Emma shook her head. “No. I like to stay out of the public eye. And I’ve had too much of that already.”

  Dylan’s eyes widened. “I know who you are. I saw you on the Reggie King show on FNN.” He grinned. “I thought you looked familiar.”

  Emma cringed.

  “You’re the one who shot Ragza Vin Zelcor!”

  Emma looked embarrassed by the attention. “I was just doing my job. It took a lot of people to make that happen, and it came at a great human cost.”

  “I’m sure.” Dylan grew silent. She could tell he felt bad for bringing it up.

  “What about you, are you going to go to New Hollywood after you get out of the Marines and become an action star?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be famous. People coming up to you all the time, asking for autographs. You couldn’t have a quiet meal with a pretty girl without being interrupted.” Dylan smiled.

  Emma arched an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t help but blush a little. She paused a moment, and her face grew somber. “Look, you seem like a pretty decent guy. And I don’t want to lead you on.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything about Ragza.”

  “No. It’s not that at all.” Emma took a deep breath. “I’m just going to be straight with you. I’m dying.”

  Dylan look surprised. But the expression faded almost instantly. “So, we’re all dying.”

  “No. I mean, I’m dying faster than normal.”

  “I’m a Marine. We all die faster than normal.”

  Emma shrugged. He had a good point. She decided to just blurt the words out, “I’ve got cancer.”

  It hung in the air like smoke.

  “How long have you got?”
>
  “I’m already past my expiration date. Maybe a few months. Tops.”

  Dylan sat silent for a moment. Then he shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get.”

  Emma looked at him dumbfounded. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  He laughed. “Life hurts. We wouldn’t know pleasure without pain. Do you have any idea what the casualty rate for my unit is? Every time my platoon goes out, the odds are I won’t come back. The only thing that matters is right here, right now. I try to make the most of that.” He paused for a moment. “If you’re too afraid to live what life you’ve got left, I can understand that. But I don’t agree with it.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” Emma said.

  “Good. The movie starts 1900 hours,” Dylan said with a grin.

  20

  The Marines

  Carson staggered to his feet and took a position behind what was left of the north wall of the medical center. The fog had rolled out, and the air was clearing. He pulled down his tactical goggles from atop his helmet and activated the night-vision. He blasted at the incoming aliens in short staccato bursts. Muzzle flash lit up his chiseled face like a strobe light.

  Murphy was next to him with a belt fed M679 machine gun. It rattled off a blistering number of rounds, and the report was deafening.

  A moment later, the LT staggered out of the structure with his weapon and took a position next to Carson. He blasted off several rounds at the enemy. It was a sight Kyle hadn’t seen once in the whole deployment.

  Gun smoke filled the air. Incoming energy bolts blasted at the concrete. Fragments of debris sprayed everywhere. The dust filled Kyle’s already congested lungs. He hacked up some greenish/yellow phlegm and spit it on the ground. It was like goopy alien slime.

  His heart was pounding in his chest. Once again, the surge of adrenaline gave him the strength to keep fighting.

  The aliens were advancing from the north, and were attempting to flank the compound. Marines in various buildings were engaging the enemy. But they were outnumbered and outgunned. To make matters worse, the platoon was running low on ammo. They hadn't been expecting heavy combat on this mission.

  Kyle could see the large creatures reach the edge of the compound. At least their massive size made them bigger targets. Kyle lined one of them up in his sights—the reticle square on the alien’s chest. Carson held his breath and pulled the trigger. A flurry of rounds blasted down range. But they seemed to ping right off the creature’s armor.

  Energy bolts streaked in Carson’s direction. He ducked behind the wall as bolts ripped overhead and pummeled the concrete. Dust and debris rained down.

  Kyle popped his rifle over the edge of the wall and fired at the approaching creatures.

  They were even closer than before.

  The bolt on his weapon locked out—the magazine was empty. He dropped it out and jammed another one back in. “I’m down to my last mag!”

  “Me too,” Talbot shouted.

  Just then, a bolt of energy rifled into the structure, eviscerating Stedman. His body bulged, then burst. It exploded into a crimson mist of blood that hung in the air like a cloud.

  Kyle was coated in blood and slop. He watched the atomized particles linger in the air. A light bulb went off in his head, and his eyes lit up. This was going to be his delivery system.

  Within moments, the Marines were going to be overrun. The aliens were approaching from all angles now. There was only one thing Carson cared about—to save the men he had fought with over the last several months. Despite their differences, they had all become brothers.

  “Which way is the wind blowing?”

  “Who fucking cares?” Murphy shouted between machine gun bursts.

  Carson scanned the street and saw a piece of torn canvas awning flapping in the wind. “North,” he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. “Lay down suppressing fire while I advance," Kyle yelled.

  “What? Are you crazy?” Murphy said.

  “I'm perfectly sane,” Carson said with a grin. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his PDU and the ring he had bought for Jessica. He handed them to Bates. “Get that to my girl.”

  Bates took the items and gave him a grim nod. He had an inkling of what Sergeant Kyle was up to.

  Carson was about to leap over the remains of the wall and charge toward the aliens when the LT grabbed his arm.

  “Stay here, Sergeant. I got this one,” the LT said with a wink.

  Griggs mustered his strength and hopped the wall. He darted to the next structure. Energy bolts whizzed all around him. He could feel the searing heat through his body armor as they came perilously close. Griggs made it across the street and threw his back against the wall.

  He peered around the corner and could see the aliens—they were less than a block away. Griggs ripped the quarantine mask from his face and tossed it to the ground. He angled the barrel of his weapon around the corner and blasted off several rounds.

  Murphy's machine gun unloaded at the creatures. The barrel was white-hot, and smoke was wafting from it. He was pushing the weapon to the limit.

  Griggs let out a primal scream and dashed into the street. He charged the enemy like a madman, firing until his magazine was empty.

  Carson had never seen this side of the LT.

  The aliens hesitated. They watched Griggs for a moment, stunned by his assault. It didn't make tactical sense to them. One man running down the middle of the road? What could he hope to accomplish?

  Griggs kept screaming as he ran down the street. He looked like something out of an old Sean Finn war movie. He had the war-face to end all war-faces. It reminded Carson of a scene out of Alien Apocalypse.

  The LT’s heart pounded, and his quads burned as he sprinted down the street.

  The aliens blasted him as he drew near. Multiple bursts of orange energy slammed into his torso. His body bulged and burst into a fog of blood particles. The north wind pushed the fine mist over the aliens.

  With each breath, the aliens inhaled their death. By the time they had advanced to Carson and the rest of the platoon, green blood was streaming from their eyes. Their massive bodies collapsed in the street as they gasped for breath. They gurgled as their lungs filled with fluid.

  The LT had saved the platoon.

  By morning, the fog had cleared. The bright dual suns shown down on the tortured camp. The streets of the compound were littered with the bodies of aliens.

  Hundreds of them.

  Little more than piles of mush, surrounded by pools of green blood. Insects were already starting to feast on their carcasses. Their rotting stench filled the air. The scent made Carson's uneasy stomach turn.

  He felt even worse than the day before, but he was still alive. Many of the others in the platoon were starting to show symptoms of the Proxima flu—hacking and coughing and sniffling and sneezing.

  Carson found the SCO (Space Communications Officer) and tried to establish communications with FOB Trammell.

  “Overlord, this is Venom 2-2, Alpha. Do you copy?”

  There was no response. Carson kept trying, but got nothing but static.

  There was a grim look on the SCO’s face as he studied the display on the transmitter. “Sarge, I don’t think FOB Tramell exists anymore.”

  Carson’s eyes went wide.

  “The only signal I’m getting is their emergency distress beacon.” His words hung heavy in the air. “Does anybody else know we’re here?”

  Carson shook his head.

  “So nobody’s coming to get us?”

  “Do you think you can send a subspace transmission back to the fleet?”

  The SCO shrugged. “That’s a long way, and this transmitter is not very powerful. Without a satellite relay, I don’t know.”

  “It’s worth a shot. Are we still getting high levels of electromagnetic interference?”

  “It seems to have dissipated somewhat.”

  Carson wasn't sure if the aliens had been usi
ng some type of jamming device, or if it was something in the fog.

  Sergeant Kyle recorded a message. “This is Venom 2-2 Alpha. We need immediate evac from Ceti Reticuli 9. Be advised, we have severe casualties, and we are experiencing an outbreak of Proxima flu. We need multiple doses of the antidote. Situation critical. Repeat, need immediate evacuation from Ceti Reticuli 9.”

  The SCO sent the transmission. The only thing they could do now was sit back and wait, and hope someone would respond.

  Carson staggered to a nearby wall and took a seat. He unbuckled his chin strap and took off his Kevlar. He let the dual suns shine on his face. The air was cool, but the sunshine felt warm. He was still woozy, and his stomach was rumbling. But nobody was shooting at him, for the moment. And maybe, just maybe, help would arrive in time. But he knew that was unlikely.

  Koontz strolled up to him, gripping his weapon, still showing no symptoms from the flu. He looked euphoric. “That was some shit, wasn't it, Sarge? I didn’t think the LT had it in him. Pure bad ass.” He had a sly grin on his face. “God I love this job. Semper Fi!”

  21

  Chloe

  Cadets ran across the tarmac toward the rows of new Stingrays. Before they could reach their birds, the tarmac was wrecked with explosions. Brilliant orange balls of flame billowed black smoke into the thin sky. Metal and debris showered in all directions. The sound was deafening. The overpressure from the explosions knocked Chloe to the ground. She slammed the hard pavement, rattling her bones.

  A squadron of enemy fighters had strafed the strip, leaving carcasses of twisted metal behind. They ripped through the air, engines roaring.

  Chloe knew they were going to circle back around for another run. She pulled herself off the ground, staggering to her feet. Her eyes scanned the area. Several of the cadets had taken shrapnel. They were writhing on the ground, wailing in agony. Others weren’t moving at all. Crimson blood stained the tarmac.