True Cost: The Descendants War Book 5

by John Walker

  “Whoa!” Rhys leaned forward. “Do you see—”

  “Yes.” Titus nodded. “I do.”

  “Power’s dropping,” Violet said. “They’re dead in space.”

  The Brekka flew over them, pursued by another of the battleships. This one had two other Prytin vessels giving chase, chipping away at their defenses with potshots. A bright flash drew Rhys’s attention. He checked his terminal, cursing under his breath.

  “Seems they got one of ours. More than one in fact. Quite the exchange.”

  “Give me some numbers, “Titus said, “both sides.”

  “Three Prytins down,” Violet said, “four of the Kahl ships gone. One of our allies has gone to support the defensive forces attempting to keep additional invaders from landing. The other two are chasing him. That leaves…” She paused. “Oh no…”

  “What is it?” Rhys demanded, “you can’t say that kind of thing!”

  “It’s just… the last Kahl… it’s moving into orbit. I’m only guessing, but…”

  “They have a line of sight on the LZ?” Titus asked. “Jane, get us over there. Now. Full speed.”

  “Aye, sir.” Jane brought them around, burying the throttle. The sudden speed increase shoved them all into their seats.

  Rhys held fast to his armrests, peering at his terminal. They were almost directly over the site. Why would they bother? He wanted to scream the question, particularly at the Kahl commander. What is the point of all this murder?

  “This isn’t war,” Rhys muttered, “not for them. They’re not soldiers or warriors. They’re simple killers. Thugs pretending to be something they are not.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Titus asked.

  “These Kahl. They’re planning on killing civilians for absolutely no reason. Not to demoralize the Rhulin. That was done when they burned their homes and slaughtered their armed forces. No, this is blatant crime. There’s no point to it otherwise.”

  “They have a different view of conflict than we do,” Titus said. “They are cultural predisposed to something we categorized as wicked. Which may well be why we call them alien.”

  “Imagine,” Rhys said, “they’d do the same thing to our colonies, to Earth.”

  Titus nodded. “Which is why we’re out here.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  Titus lifted his brows, patting him on the arm. “When is it ever?”

  The question struck Rhys in the gut. Made it hard to breathe. He hadn’t considered the sentiment before. Winning a conflict came down to quantifiable results. Concluding the fight with more men than the other person. Someone surrendered. These were the paths to victory. They were simple, elegant, and often efficient.

  But so many other factors went into a battle. The lives lost, for example. What was acceptable? How many had to be gone before even a win was considered a loss? During command school, a teacher pressed them hard about the concept of the ends justifying the means.

  If you save a colony but lose nine ships out of twelve in your fleet, did you really win? That was one point. Will you find a way to justify your losses in order to spin a victory?

  Is it ever enough? Rhys mulled the question in his head. No. It probably isn’t. We just do what we can regardless.

  “They’re preparing to fire,” Sam said, “energy buildup in their generators.”

  “Are we close enough to open fire?” Rhys asked.

  “Won’t be in time,” Titus said, “Jane, take us in front of them. Let that blast hit the starboard side.”

  “Yes, sir… I think I can do that.” Jane fired the maneuvering thrusters, taking them to the side of the Kahl ship. That gave them a tight angle for reaching the front. Cannon glow painted a silhouette of their target as they drew closer to torching the surface.

  The Triton pivoted suddenly. Rhys cried out from the pressure shoving him into his seat. The rear thrusters engaged, tossing them forward. Jane’s timing came off perfectly as the full brunt of the Kahl assault laid into their side. That one act may well have saved every single person at the LZ.

  But they had to prevent the enemy from doing it again.

  “Good job,” Titus said, “Violet, do you agree?”

  “Damage report doesn’t,” Violet replied. “Shields dropped on that side. Minor hull damage. Medical is reporting some casualties. They cannot get to them until we’re not maneuvering like this.”

  “Understood, tell them to do what they can.” Titus gestured to Sam. “Hit them with our turrets as we come around. Uh… Jane, what’re you doing?”

  “Helm’s not responding,” Jane said, “we’re closing on the planet’s surface. Entering atmo in… forty-five seconds.”

  “That’s really bad, right?” Sam asked. “Like… we’re too big for that nonsense, aren’t we?”

  “We won’t entirely burn up,” Jane said. Her fingers flew over the screen. “But that’s not to say we’ll survive. The ship will become a world-killing event, though. Probably annihilate this continent at least.” She leaned over, tapping buttons on the column that secured the console to the deck. “Looks like we’re having a power delay.”

  “I’m working on navs,” Sam replied, “maneuvering thrusters are responding. I can fire them to pull us up.”

  Jane shook her head. “Hold off. I’ll let you know when.”

  The viewscreen turned orange as they hit the atmosphere. Shields lit up. The temperature immediately increased. Life support couldn’t keep up, couldn’t maintain the environment against the suddenness of the change.

  “Mind telling us what we’re waiting for?” Rhys asked.

  Jane replied, “If we fire the thrusters early, if they don’t work continuously, then we will likely still strike the planet. In another… ten seconds, we’ll tip the nose up and achieve low orbit.” She paused. “Now, Sam! Go!”

  Sam slapped the panel. The maneuvering thrusters fired. As the nose lifted, the ship groaned as if the bones themselves complained at the quick motions they forced her through. Rhys gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes. He refrained from crossing his fingers but figured he shared the notion with the others.

  “Shields are totally down,” Violet called, “but you did it. We are in orbit.”

  “Yes!” Sam clapped his hands. “That’s the shit right there!”

  “Stow it,” Titus said. “How long before our defenses are back online?”

  “Five minutes,” Violet replied, “minimum.”

  “Jesus…” Rhys let his shoulder slump. “If they come after us…”

  “I know.” Titus tapped his comm. “Griel? We’re in a bad way over here. No defenses, nearly crashed into the planet, and this battleship has a clear shot on the LZ. Can you get here in time to persuade them to back off?”

  “We’re on our way,” Griel said. “And I’m pretty sure they won’t want to keep taking shots at civilians with this kind of firepower on their backs.”

  Violet brought up a tactical screen. Three Prytin vessels came barreling toward them. One looked pretty bad off but the Brekka and their third ally were fighting fit. As they closed the distance, the Kahl ship broke away from the planet. At first, it seemed they were about to flee… then they wheeled around, coming straight for the Triton.

  “Jane?” Titus asked, “do you have helm?”

  “Mostly.” Jane tapped a series of buttons before slapping something on the navigation console between her and Sam. “Let him get a little closer…” She nudged them around, making a slow pivot until they were on the verge of facing their enemy. “Sir, I’d like to give Sam a chance to fire while we escape.”

  “Do it,” Titus said, “as long as we don’t take a real hit.”

  “That might’ve been unavoidable either way,” Rhys replied. “At least this gives us a chance to give them some punishment right back.”

  “And,” Sam added, “they have to get right up on the planet to fire at us. Means their shields should start taking some punishment any moment.”

  Sur
e enough, the Kahl vessel lit up as they drew closer, dropping into the planet’s atmosphere. Their cannons lit up. Sam fired. Jane tossed them upward, tearing them out of orbit far too fast. Power flickered around them. The ship rumbled, shaking violently, then… it stopped.

  The Prytin ships swept over the Kahl vessel, tearing into it.

  “We did it!” Sam shouted. “We got away!” Something hit them, a blow that rattled the walls and made the seats vibrate until Rhys’s bones ached.

  “What got us?” Titus called. “Violet?”

  “Turret fire,” Violet said. “A potshot but with only environmental shields…” She shrugged. “Heavy hull damage to Hangar Two. They’re trying to secure a minor breach. We got pretty…” She sighed. “Scratch that. Reactor power has dropped by forty-six percent. In less than twenty seconds.”

  “Is it still going down?” Rhys asked.

  “Seems stable at the moment, but Chief Huxley is insisting we do not move for at least one minute.” Violet turned to them. “He says if we put any additional strain on the ship, it may… well… explode.”

  Titus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Slow us down. Where’s the enemy vessel?”

  “Engaged with the Prytins,” Sam said, “they won’t be shooting at us again.”

  “All the better,” Titus replied. The lights went out. Followed by the viewscreen and every console. A red glow burst to light from the edges of the ceiling. They were on their own batteries, which could last for roughly thirty minutes.

  “Comms are down!” Violet called. “Everything’s dead!”

  “What about our generator?” Rhys asked. “The secondary one for the bridge?”

  “Before I lost everything,” Violet replied, “it seemed fine. The connection may have been damaged in the fight. I can’t say until I get a good look at it.”

  “Check it,” Titus said. He tapped his personal comm. “Huxley, we lost everything up here. What’s going on?”

  “Reactor is at eighteen percent,” Huxley replied. “We’re working to prevent a full breach. Life support will be back online at emergency levels in two minutes. Breathe shallow until then.”

  “Christ,” Rhys looked at Titus, “that seems…”

  “Worse than bad?” Titus interrupted. “Leave the generator, Violet. Give Huxley a chance to work. Until then, we’re dead in the water.”

  “At least there’s only one Kahl left,” Sam said. “Bright side, right?”

  Rhys opened his mouth to respond then let it go. Our allies have that ship dramatically outnumbered. Engineering will get the reactor online. We’ll be good to go soon enough. The pep talk helped. He wondered if the rest of the bridge crew needed it. A look around proved they had their own means of coping.

  Then it’s best to be quiet… give them some space… and let Huxley do his job. The man knows what he’s doing. He’s got this. Providing they didn’t die from a reactor breach in the next few minutes. Always gotta find the negative. God, I hate the way I think sometimes.

  ***

  Gunny spat dirt before rolling on his back. His helmet was gone, lost somewhere off to his right. He peered up at the sky, staring as round, bright lights marred the blue. They looked like nothing he’d ever seen before, but fog hovered over his senses, making the world a blur. He blinked and the lights were gone.

  “Hey!” Corso appeared over him, shouting in his face. “Gunny, speak to me!”

  “I’m… fine,” Gunny replied. “Get me the hell up!”

  The lieutenant hoisted him to his feet. They were behind the Prytin shuttle in decent cover. Enemy forces made another strong push. Some massive explosion went off near him, throwing him a good twenty feet away from his position near the center of their line. He looked back at where he came from.

  “Is anyone else…”

  “We lost a few,” Corso interrupted, “one of the Prytins. Lorquet and Baulsh.” He paused. “Look!”

  Gunny followed his gesture. A column of people came over the hill far to the east of their snipers. He looked around the area for his helmet. It was back where he nearly lost his life. He hustled over, staying low to get it. Energy blasts filled the air; an exchange from the gun emplacements and the enemy that felt like all-out war.

  The civilians probably shouldn’t be coming this way. Gunny thrust the helmet on. The HUD popped up instantly as he rushed back to Corso. “Hey, Bearing! White! Why didn’t you guys tell me about all those people coming up on us?”

  “You lost your comm,” White replied, “we tried. They’re okay. We’ve made contact.”

  “Friendly ships are on the way,” Corso said. “The first will arrive in less than five minutes.”

  “Whatever they nearly killed me with might take one of those ships down,” Gunny warned. “What’re we going to do about it?”

  “I’ve got it,” Bearing said, “give me… three… seconds… and…” A streak flickered across the sky. “Okay, that bastard’s done. And I got his big ass gun too. We’re on the lookout for more shoulder-mounted weapons. If they crop up, we’ll take them down.”

  “Sounds good.” Gunny hurried over to the perimeter. Armed Rhulin security forces jogged toward him, waving their hands. “You’re a welcome sight!” Gunny shouted, “we need you to reinforce the front. Do your best to thin the ranks of those Kahl bastards so the people can load up!”

  A woman came forward. “I’m Desal Vihn! Rhulin Ranger division.” She clapped his hand. “Are these the only shuttles for evac?”

  Gunny waited for the translation before shaking his head. “Negative! We have civilian transport still incoming. But this landing zone has been hot since we’ve arrived.” He gestured at the hill behind the camp. “We have snipers up there… sharpshooters. Do you have anyone on your team that can join them?”

  “Yes.” Desal nodded. “We’ll deploy our forces and get these people to hunker down.” She walked away, shouting orders in her language far too quickly for the translator to keep up. Twenty more soldiers joined them, eighteen taking their place with the Prytin crews. That bolstered the firing line considerably.

  The civilians poured into the camp, gathering near the Triton shuttle. They used that for cover, huddling there, but they had too many to remain completely out of sight. Gunny turned to the armed forces, ordering them to put heavier fire on the left side. Keeping the enemy’s heads down might save a few lives.

  Engines roared overhead. The first of the transport shuttles came in for a landing. Regular weapon fire tapped the bottom, making the shields light up. Bearing, White, and their new companions took care of those, throwing out potshots, though it was hardly necessary. No regular rifle would do much to the ships.

  The crowd seemed on the verge of panic. As the ship landed, it looked like they all might mob it. A woman stepped up to organize them, shouting them down. She brought the younger members of the party together first along with several women. They started boarding the shuttle.

  Gunny returned his attention to the action, joining the others to offer up another gun. The number of Kahl bodies shocked him. He wondered where they were all coming from. Is this the entire invasion force come to bear on us? Why they had to kill the civilians baffled him. If they were fighting for a no survivors victory, they had to know it was impossible.

  Someone always made it unless they destroyed the planet. Crashing one of their ships into the continent might work but why bother? A few souls left spread the word of their exploits. Made things worse for the armed forces on other worlds as they had to dwell on how thorough their enemy could be.

  He dropped one, suppressed a small group then dropped behind the mobile cover. The metal pinged from energy blasts hitting directly behind him, each one a shot that would’ve ended him already.

  The first shuttle took off, rocketing away to the south before climbing toward orbit. That’s a good sign at least. Gunny stood when his cover stopped taking fire. He blasted away while another bunch of engines roared through the sky.

  A ball o
f energy erupted from the invader’s side. It struck one of the two shuttles in the rear. Engines sparked then exploded, bringing the shuttle down three hundred yards from their position. It exploded, sending plumes of black smoke high into the air. The crater must’ve been fifteen feet deep, filled with flames.

  The second ship came in for a landing. Gunny glanced. Another group of civilians calmly boarded. He had to admit, he was impressed by their discipline. After watching one of the ships go down, he didn’t know how they maintained their cool. They deserved to be commended.

  “Did you find that ground-to-air weapon?” Gunny shouted. “White? Bearing?”

  “Yeah,” White said, “little prick has decent cover, but it won’t be enough. Just a rock. We’re taking care of him right now.”

  Gunny glanced up as a series of streaks tore through the air, far more than their regular single shots. He tried to see what they were shooting at. High up on the hill across the way, a particularly large stone took a barrage. It chipped away then split down the middle, revealing the enemy with his massive cannon.

  He turned to run, bolting down the hill. A sniper shot tore his leg off. A second obliterated his head. The third and final one cut the weapon down.

  “Scratch that asshole,” Bearing said. “Um… that came out wrong, I think.”

  “Not a surprise,” White replied, “got five more ships on scan. They’re coming your way.”

  “Got it.” Gunny ducked again, taking a quick count of the civilians they had left. Just over sixty. He hoped each of the shuttles made it. That would be the entire group. The rest of them could use their military craft to escape the area. We can abandon this hell, get out of here. “Sir? Corso? How many more refugees should we expect?”

  “This is all that we were tasked with,” Corso said, “there were others. They won’t make it. And on the other side of the continent, the Prytins were… gah!”

  Gunny turned to see what happened. Corso slumped to the ground; his torso armor scorched from a direct hit. “Hey! Medic!” Gunny growled, rushing to the man. He grabbed him by the scruff of the armor, dragging him out of the open, to the safety of their own ship. One of the other soldiers dashed forward, dropping to his knees beside him.