Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1)

by David G. McDaniel

  “All right then,” Willet exhaled. He clapped his hands in front of him. “Let’s suit up.”

  CHAPTER 32: SECOND INTRODUCTIONS

  It was dark out as Jess hunkered in the Skull Boy powered armor, just within sight of the Crucible walls. They’d been running half-an-hour through the night staying low, over the rugged terrain between the landing site and their objective, and now crouched in a field of impossibly tall grass just a few hundred yards from the towering walls. Up close the Crucible looked incredibly fortified and singular of purpose. An industrial compound held within a barrier made for war.

  Willet instructed them to hold communications while he scanned the area. Jess looked at him now, ahead and to the left, the bulky outline of his Skull Boy armor kneeling like a bodybuilder in the classic Atlas pose. She’d finally grown used to looking at both Willet and Darvon in the suits, though it took some time. It was weird to both be in the massive armor, wearing it like a suit, and to see others in it walking around or running beside you. Kind of like playing a character in a first-person video game or something. Only here you were the game.

  After getting past the claustrophobic reaction of locking on the helmet things got interesting. First the internal screens came alive, complete with floating information that hovered in her vision—as if the helmet had vanished. That alone freed her panic and afterward she felt amazingly empowered. Internal bracing adjusted, scooching her around within the limbs and torso, feeling weird at first but when done the suit held her snug, almost like a one-size-fits-all. She just barely, as the typical operator was nearly a foot taller than her, but the Venatres had women Skull Boys, some of whom were small, and so it adapted. After a bit she almost forgot it gripped her at all. “Standing” in the armor her head was nearly eight feet above the ground. She could reach things far away with her “hands”, and she could move.

  Boy could she move!

  Everything was amplified. In the Skull Boy she felt like she could run down a car on the highway. And knock it off the road once she caught it. She had no Earth reference for absolute strength, but just from the experimenting she’d done already she felt like she could probably tear an entire house to the ground. Rip down walls and wade through the rubble like it was nothing.

  As a test before they left she picked up one corner of the ornithopter—which was as big as a semi truck—like it was nothing. She hardly felt it. They practiced jumping—that alone a complete rush—they practiced running, they practiced aiming and shooting, and now they were just sitting there in the dark field, waiting on Willet, and she ached to be underway again. To get the mission over with. She knew the Crucible had weapons, stuff just as powerful as the guns the Skull Boy’s carried if not more so, but in that moment, wearing the powered armor, feeling as invincible as she did, she struggled to resist the urge to just rise, throw herself headlong into the compound and kick everyone’s ass. To use the full power of the suit to get the Icon back.

  And rescue Zac.

  He was in there. Would be with the Icon, in whatever prison they held him. There didn’t need to be a separate plan. Zac was with the Icon; they’d taken him with it. She would save him at the same time. And as she thought of this all the feelings she’d been suppressing came roaring to the fore. Why did she even care so much? Other than the fact that he’d helped her and deserved to be saved. Was it truly love at first sight? Or just another of her flights of fantasy she could never seem to let go? Why had she fallen for this superpowered boy from another world, and why the infatuation that only seemed to be growing? It wasn’t just that he was handsome, or amazing, or incredible, or wonderful, though he most certainly was all those things. Was it what they’d been through? An intensity of “living”, more adrenaline in one day than most people experienced in a lifetime? Driven by the threat of death at every turn, escaping great peril together, hand in hand. Was it his ardent efforts to protect her? His devotion? It was probably all that, and probably even something else, a feeling she’d had when first seeing him that maybe was love at first sight, but none of that really mattered, did it? Not anymore.

  Zac was married.

  Moreover, even if he wasn’t married he could never stay on Earth. That problem hadn’t changed. There would be no passport or green card. Even if she was free to explore her infatuation it could never work. Zac could never come with her.

  Still. She had to rescue him despite any of that. Which meant as she drew near … the moment of their permanent parting drew near as well. Though they were separated for now, they’d not officially gone their separate ways. Not yet. As of right now they could still be together, and they would. But after that …

  Soon she must wake up. Soon the dream would be over. And as much as parts of it seemed a nightmare, as much as she wanted it to be over, there were yet parts she never wanted to end. Until that final moment came Zac was still, technically, in her future. Once she saw him next …

  They were through.

  She pushed those thoughts aside. She was about to go into battle. She needed her mind sharp.

  She issued a few commands to the control computer; brought up telemetry data on the suit and the compound ahead. The information floated ghost-like in her field of vision; information on distance, light levels, ammo count, systems integrity and anything else she cared to know. An Earth fortification like the Crucible would have barbed wire, fences, sensors and other anti-personnel systems. Here, like the city, there was just the wall. A hundred feet high with solid gates.

  She stretched her gaze, high and wide to the night sky, dark and moonless and filled with stars, vast and beautiful alien constellations spanning it, horizon to horizon. Wondering: could one of those stars be Earth? Her own sun? The pain of displacement nearly brought tears, but she turned the sadness to awe and found herself looking instead at the innumerable points of light with a sense of the epic.

  Look at where I am.

  It was incredible.

  She adjusted her stance. Though the suits were entirely intuitive, magnifying normal body motions while protecting the operator against shock and hyperextensions, the operator still had to exert effort. Running was still running. And so it took them a little longer than expected to get there as they had to stop often for Darvon to catch his breath. In the end they settled on a brisk, leaping walk that still made good time.

  She looked over at her middle-aged friend, crouching close. He kept shifting around, fatigued. It was weird to see the bad-ass fighting armor mimicking his fat-guy weakness. Darvon was tired, his knees probably hurt and the Skull Boy, in turn, trembled like it was tired with sore knees. She wished she could see his face; wanted to say something reassuring but didn’t dare break Willet’s order of silence. Right then there was nothing to do but wait.

  Then the suit alerted her to an inbound threat. Her heart stopped but she forced herself to scan the scrolling data; to make sense of what was being reported.

  Willet’s voice came over the network in that same instant. “Incoming. Everyone stay put.”

  An image centered and bracketed in her display. Soon she saw it: one of the airships, complete with trajectory and other info. She magnified it as it flew in from the right, bearing on the Crucible.

  “It’s a Kazerai ship,” Willet reported. Jess found the golden sunburst emblem on its side. Light-enhancing filters painted a clear picture of the craft and she wondered that the ship did not, in turn, see their small group of Skull Boys crouched in the grass. Then, as she recognized it, a spike of both fear and anger. Willet confirmed what she suddenly knew:

  “Kang,” he almost hissed.

  Jess watched the airship thunder by, intense sound mitigated by the acoustic controls of the suit, over the wall and into the interior of the Crucible for a landing.

  Remembering vividly the guy in the woods who attacked Zac.

  Everything was about to happen and it was about to happen fast. They would race in there, find the Icon, get it and take her home.

  And Zac woul
d be gone.

  * *

  Horus waited with the Shogun in the upper chamber of the Crucible’s control tower. Night blackened the windows, making them like opaque mirrors. He studied his own reflection. He’d been given his proper uniform, black pants and black shirt, matching boots and gloves, the golden sunburst of the Kazerai emblazoned on the chest. In a subtle way it brought him more into the fold. Made him an official part of that which he had not yet fully accepted. He looked himself over. The clothes were plain, at least compared to the robes of the clerics, Shogun and priest warriors—the only other ranking members of the Dominion he’d seen. For a legion commander he didn’t get much regalia. Maybe since the Kazerai were expected to rush headlong into battle ahead of the troops there was a more utilitarian motive to the simple garb. He recalled seeing the same boots and pants on Kang.

  Kang. He repeated the name. Kang, for whom they now stood in wait. He’d just arrived and was coming up. Before that Horus had watched the blazing fire of the airship’s engines with an unwavering stare as it flew over the walls and by the tower, rattling the windows, tracking with his gaze all the way in as it landed in the compound and went dark. He wondered if he could get past Kang’s face. Act civil. Ashikagi expected them to work together. Horus still wanted to kill him.

  Yet he was, somehow, calm. After seeing to the burial of Kitana he found himself willing at least to give Kang a chance. To prove his instinct wrong. To let his counterpart be something other than what he believed him to be.

  “He is arriving,” came the announcement. An attendant waited at the door. Several others stood with him, three of the priest warriors on hand, ready with their staffs, but otherwise Ashikagi and Horus were alone.

  A moment later Kang entered.

  Sneering, same as when he attacked days ago, and for an instant Horuses’ calm faded and he wanted to lunge. To drive him through the windows to the ground below.

  But he held the impulse in check and waited as Kang walked across the room to stand before them.

  “Lord,” Kang bowed ever so slightly to the Shogun. Then turned to Horus: “Good to see you dressed, brother.” Kang wore his own shirt now, golden sunburst emblazoned on the chest, looking like a mirror image of Horus—albeit smaller and pompous.

  “I have a mission for you both,” Ashikagi interrupted the brewing tension, directing their attention to him. “I’ve briefed Horus,” he informed Kang. “You will work together. Take your frigate and fly back to the rear flank of the enemy. There you will land and continue on foot. Once in the Venatres headquarters your mission will be to kill everyone and destroy everything. This will send their entire operation into chaos.”

  Kang’s sneer stretched wider, if that was possible, and Horus wondered how his counterpart could look with such anticipation on what amounted to a massacre. More than that, he wondered how he himself could truly participate in what was being ordered.

  “Following that you will push into their ranks and act as a chaotic pincer with the Osaka forces at the vanguard.” Ashikagi smiled at his two Kazerai. “Prepare yourselves. I will follow and resume command at Osaka.” Then he became serious. “I should never have allowed myself to follow the witch here. It was a show of weakness, to the enemy and to our armies.

  “But it will be fixed. We will fix it. With this shocking action we will put the Shogun and his Kazerai back into the hearts and minds of our people. Legends will rise this night. And your names,” he smiled again, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “your names, my dear Kazerai, will be spoken in awe.”

  CHAPTER 33: INTO THE FRAY

  “If you don’t make it on the first try get your bearings and try again,” Willet instructed. “Stay on your feet.” Jess crouched beside him, Darvon to the right, looking at the looming wall in the near distance.

  Preparing to make a sprint for it.

  “Of course,” Willet added, “they’ll be shooting at us by then, so it won’t be any easier the second time.” He looked over at Jessica, Skull Boy helmet expressionless.

  Darvon spoke, voice shaking. “I’m not sure about these jump jets.”

  They’d practiced jumping back at the ‘thopter, leaping high, and Darvon did the drills, just like Jessica. Unlike Jessica, however, he’d been a lot more clumsy.

  “Are you with us?” she asked him. “You don’t have to. One more person won’t make a difference.”

  “I’m with you,” Darvon confirmed. Clearly forcing confidence into his voice.

  Jess looked at him. Now would be a good time for a smile. Too bad the powered armor didn’t allow for that level of interaction. No emoticons in the Skull Boy arsenal. Not even a simple colon and parenthesis : ) to shoot his way. She wondered if there was internal suit-to-suit video. Of all the things Willet showed them she was sure there was more to know. Their training had, by necessity, been brief.

  “We’ll make it together,” she reassured him.

  “All right,” Willet interrupted the moment. “Let’s focus. On my command power up. They’ll detect our energy signatures as soon as we start moving. Run as fast as you can, follow me. I’ll leap first. The goal is the top of the wall. Once inside I’ll call it. Our objective is the command building. That one there.” He pointed and added it to their computers. Jess watched as the building inside the walls was highlighted, metrics scrolling beside it in the Heads-Up Display. The entire field ahead glowed in monochrome green, enhanced by the suit’s night-vision.

  “That has to be where they’ve got the Icon,” Willet continued. “If not, well … If not we’re screwed. There will be no search mission. Once the shock of our arrival has passed it’s over. This will be our one shot.”

  Jess couldn’t stop thinking of Zac. Hoping he and the Icon were in the same place.

  She couldn’t leave without him.

  “Ready?” Willet asked.

  Jess nodded inside her helmet. Realized that couldn’t be seen. “Ready.”

  Willet waited for Darvon. Prodded: “Darvon?”

  “Ready,” came his uncertain response.

  Willet gave it one more second. Then …

  “Here we go.” And was off. Up and running, the Skull Boy lunging up and out to a run, kicking up plumes of dirt as he quickly hit a sprint. Jess surged after him, as hard as she could, feeling the armor as it matched and extended her exertions, making her feel like a human cheetah. Arms and legs pumping. There was no resistance, no counter-effort; the armor was practically invisible to the senses, like running on the moon or something. The monochrome landscape scrolled insanely fast beneath her pounding footsteps, Willet leading up ahead and on the left.

  She checked telemetry data, searched for Darvon and found him lagging to the rear. Fought the urge to slow and wait, knowing each second in the open they were targets. Her spine tingled through the exertion, starting to fear the shots that could come at any moment.

  Up ahead on the walls giant spotlights came on, intensely bright all at once, fanning the distant ground. The suit’s video feeds polarized and compensated.

  “Stay on course!” Willet yelled. “Get to the top of the wall!”

  Jess kept on it. Hard. Chugging as fast as she could, breath heavy in the enclosed confines of the helmet. Darvon fell further behind and she wondered if he’d make it through this night. Outside of anything the enemy might throw at them, would he even survive the strain? Circ systems kept them supplied with fresh, pure oxygen, but that might not be enough.

  A towering clump of grass came up, so tall it was over the head of the suit. She sprinted through behind Willet, the armor parting the thick blades like flimsy cobwebs. Crack! a small tree came out of nowhere and she hit it at full speed, splintering the trunk into wooden shards. The suit staggered but corrected itself and kept right on running at her command.

  “Watch the tree!” Willet called from somewhere ahead.

  Then they burst from the clump of tall grass and onto the last stretch of field between them and the wall.

  Su
ddenly, everything changed.

  Harsh lights now fanned the ground everywhere, bringing the whole field under brilliant illumination. Jess had to kick herself to keep from turning and fleeing back the other way.

  But she kept on, faster, sprinting into the lights behind Willet. The display was now in full-color, lights splaying around the dark shape of Willet’s armor up ahead as he ran.

  Then the first shots.

  BRRRIIIP! BRRRIIIIIIIP! orange tracers cut the air, whumping the ground around him, punching plumes of dirt high into the air, missing as he zig-zagged.

  “Do not engage!” he ordered. “Faster! Make the wall! Make the wall!”

  More tracers split the air, shooting at her, more and more until the deadly orange dash-dots filled her vision, coming close—so close!—and all at once she was panicking. She had to get out of there. Now!

  She had to run away.

  “Faster!” Willet urged. “Faster!” and she clung to his voice, doing what he did; cutting a weaving path. It was all she could do. Darvon was back there, somewhere, but it was all she could do.

  I’m going to die.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Willet yelled as he popped in and out of view behind the withering fire. How she hadn’t been hit yet …

  Bang! Bang! Pow! Shots connected, knocking her sideways. Combat data flashed on the screen, alarms as she caught her footing, straightened and …

  Ran faster than she had in her entire life. Straight. Just straight. To hell with zig-zag; she was making it to the wall and getting inside the compound. The bullets were closing in, her entire body puckered with the fear of impact and she ran. Fast. So frickin fast the entire world tunneled; orange light of the tracers, brilliant white of the searchlights; breath pistoning all around her; telemetry data floating in her vision, telling her what was wrong, where she was, where she should be …