On the Shores of a Dark Sea (Dark Seas Series Book 2)

by Damon Alan

  Dr. Jannis looked at Alarin, confusion on her face, followed by anger. “I thought, of all people, you'd want Merik saved.”

  “Of course I want Merik saved. But most of all I want my people saved. Your captain is right, Merik must die if I can’t subdue her.”

  Dr. Jannis huffed, “Great. You’ll be fine, you’re recovering nicely. I'll pack my things and let you two plot murder.”

  Sarah felt her anger boil over. “Not another word, Doctor. Go in the other room and cool off with Corriea.”

  Sarah watched the doctor leave, then turned to Alarin. “I'm sorry for that.”

  “Don't be. She has strong emotional reasons.”

  “What makes you say that?” Sarah asked.

  “After dozens of cycles with Peter Corriea and Malco Vander, I am learning to read the thoughts of your people, although only when those thoughts are quite strong. I can't read you anywhere near as well as my people, but maybe someday.”

  Corriea fired off an angry retort from the next room. “What? Why didn't you tell me that before?”

  Alarin looked confused. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable around me, Peter Corriea. And I didn't want to feel obligated to discuss relationships with you with my own love in such disorder.”

  Corriea stepped into the room.

  Sarah asked, “Relationships?”

  Alarin looked puzzled. “You don't know? No, of course you wouldn't. It isn't for me to say…”

  Corriea’s face was beet red. Sarah questioned her officer, maybe enjoying his embarrassment a bit too much. “Peter?”

  Corriea looked at the floor and shuffled his feet, then emitted a sigh of resignation. “It's Eris... er, Ensign Dantora. I can't get her out of my mind, Captain.”

  Sarah thought of Gilbert, and how they’d discussed this very thing. Alarin was wrong. She did know. Just probably not as well as Alarin knew.

  “Damn, Peter, if that's your biggest problem, you're going to be okay. People are going to pair off, we're here for the long term. Dantora will make an amazing partner for you, if she’s agreeable.”

  Sarah thought of Seto and Harmeen. Some have already paired off, you and Eris should look to the future, Peter…

  Peter’s face flushed a deeper red.

  Sarah grinned. It was good to have something joyful to talk about. “Maybe Eris does feel the same. You should ask her and when she gets back from her expedition maybe you two can—”

  “Captain,” Peter protested.

  “I will let you know when I meet her, Peter,” Alarin said.

  “No,” Peter exclaimed. “I mean, no. Please. Can't we talk about something else?”

  Sarah stifled a grin, and let Corriea off the hook. “We need to discuss getting Alarin back to Refuge. I want you to take him in your shuttle and find a small uninhabited island to hang out on until we call and need Alarin to find Merik. You’ll stay hidden until either our assault force fails or we need him for something else. If we send him after her, fit Alarin with a tracker so when he’s with Merik we know where she is. One with biometrics so we know he’s alive.”

  “How will I know a safe place to take him?” Corriea asked.

  “Ask him, but I don’t want any needless risk to either of you or the shuttle. Surely Merik can’t see everyplace at once.”

  Peter didn’t like the plan. “I still don’t see how he can get close enough to her to get an injection in—”

  Alarin shook his head. “If it comes to that she will want to see me grovel. I will offer to meet at a neutral location, then put the drug in her. If I can.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s my life, Peter, you know this. She will kill me before the drug takes effect. But you’ll be able to destroy her afterward. If I fail, you will know where she is and you can do what you did to her palace.”

  Sarah stared at Alarin, deeply respectful. “Every time I meet a great man like you, Alarin, he dies. My dead husband. Some of my former commanders. I don’t plan for it to go that way this time. We’ll make plan A work.”

  “I’m no great man. Only a man. However, you will see me when Tsungte decides our fates, Sarah. Loss, like everything else, passes.”

  Sarah didn’t know what to say. She kept hearing profoundly wise words from religious men, and it made her uncomfortable in ways she’d never been. So she changed the subject. “Corporal Vander and Eislen will go with us. I’ll see Eislen returned to the surface separately from you two, I don’t think he’s going to play well for now.” Sarah reached out and squeezed Corriea’s shoulder. “Lieutenant Corriea, take your shuttle and go. I’m smelling ammonia, Eislen may have compromised this structure.”

  Peter sniffed the air. “The self-sealing system should stop any leaks from getting out of control, but you’re right, Captain. I smell it too. I’ll get my things.”

  “Just be cautious,” Sarah said. “I’ll need to get marines in place to take Merik down, so wait somewhere out of Merik’s reach. You might be waiting several days. I'll contact you via satellite relay once I have everything ready.”

  “Yes, sir. Consider it done. The shuttle isn't much smaller than living here. I’ll load up my research gear, maybe we can get some testing done on Alarin’s ability inside Refuge’s atmosphere.”

  Sarah unlatched her holster and drew out her firearm. She looked at it, then held it out to Corriea. “Carry a weapon Peter. I know it won't save you from Merik, but anything that improves the odds is worth doing.”

  Corriea took the pistol.

  “Help me and the doctor get Eislen in a suit. And wake Vander, tell him the plan.”

  Sarah and the doctor packed the medical goods back to the shuttle. Corriea, Alarin, and Vander carried Eislen to Sarah’s shuttle.

  Corriea saluted Sarah, then departed in silence.

  Chapter 41 - Battle Plans

  27 NODER 15327

  Sarah sat alone in the cockpit, talking to Gilbert by laser link video. The fleet had a shortage of pilots since the Yascurra sterilization, resulting in numerous flights without a copilot. The shuttle coasted between Halvi and Fandama, the pilot, unneeded, was in the back playing cards with Dr. Jannis. Eislen and Vander had boarded another shuttle a day earlier, Eislen was finally headed home.

  Too bad he’ll be sedated for his last ride in space.

  Sarah and Gilbert discussed future battle plans.

  “You’ll need to transfer marines from the Fyurigan to the Yascurra. We have the battle tanks, you just need to find people with enough training to operate them,” Sarah said.

  “Driving modern tanks is intuitive,” Gilbert said. “Gunnery is a bit complex, but I can steal a few guys from the ship railgun crews… they should make that transition fairly well.”

  “What’s the time line?”

  Gilbert took a moment to think. “I can be ready to push off in a week, maybe a few days more. We have enough people, that’s not the problem. Getting them up to speed… even tanks as easy to run as ours need some training time.”

  “Put word out through all the ships to find ground vehicle experience. If you get enough, you might be able to move your departure forward. How many do you need?”

  “Well, the Yascurra carries twenty-four tanks and insertion vehicles. I’m thinking ten tanks, twelve insertion shuttles. Ten tanks won’t be too many to find people for, and the two extra shuttles will carry scout exoskeletons and supplies for our base camp.”

  Sarah was puzzled. This attack had to work. “Why not all the tanks?”

  “Ten will give me the ability to search a large enough area to find a walking target. And enough firepower that if I lose a few I’ll still be able to get the job done. It’s good sense to keep a reserve.” Gilbert sighed. “To be honest, I’m stabbing a bit in the dark. But I think this will work. It has to.”

  “I have faith you know what you’re doing. I’m not qualified as a ground forces commander. How many exoskeletons do you have?”

  “Twelve in the entire fleet, ten from th
e Fyurigan. The Seventh Fleet isn’t set up to do extended ground operations. If we were we’d have ten times as many tanks and scout packages.”

  Sarah was willing to commit everything Gilbert needed to the effort, this had to succeed. “Use all the combat exosuits if you have too, make sure you have the firepower to get the job done.”

  “Six scout exos should do, we need to scout an advancing line, not surveil three-sixty. I’m not worried about finding her. That will be easy. The real job will be ending her.”

  “What else do you need?”

  Gilbert pondered her question a moment. “Two grapplers in orbit ready to put mass on the ground. Maybe have the Hinden stand by with… well, no. That’s overkill.”

  “Nukes?”

  Gilbert looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, but we had this discussion.”

  “We’ll have it again once I’m on board the Stennis. I have thoughts on it, but they can wait.”

  “Yes, that’s fine. When you’re back here.”

  Sarah smiled. Gilbert tended to think in absolutes. That luxury no longer existed without the Alliance to fall back on. The Seventh Fleet was self-reliant, because there wasn’t a choice. Sometimes self-reliance required compromise. And sometimes all the choices were dirty. “I’ll brief you on our results with Alarin after I dock. It’s a success, and I have a plan to get the drugs to any adepts we need to subdue without necessarily killing them.”

  “Better be a good plan, if they see it coming it’s over. Deadsville for the delivery boy.”

  Sarah grinned. “They’ll never see it coming. You already proved what I need to know at the winery.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, looking at each other.

  Gilbert finally broke eye contact. “My shift starts in eight minutes, I need to get to the bridge to relieve Harmeen. That kid needs some downtime.”

  “We all do.”

  “Yeah, but he works his bridge shift then goes to work with the damage control crews to repair the ship for another eight hours. He’s playing superman, and it’s going to catch up to him.”

  Sarah knew better. “Let him be, he loves it. I’ve known Harmeen for years now, and he’s born to work.”

  How’s he finding time for Seto?

  “As you say, Captain. We can still use the repairs, that’s for sure.”

  “I know. But my ship is tough. Let Harmeen patch it up.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, each wanting to say things to the other that decorum prevented. Sarah disconnected and sat back in the copilot seat with a sigh of contentment.

  One more engagement and Merik will be resolved… Then we plan a settlement on the surface.

  Sarah sat for an hour, thinking and looking out the canopy at the gas giant looming off the port side. Ahead was a small bright point that was Fandama, and there Gilbert and the Stennis awaited her.

  In two hours Sarah’s shuttle was due to rendezvous with another shuttle that would take Eislen to a remote location near the ruins of Kampana and drop him off. Hopefully he’d calm down and Alarin would restart his education once Merik was dead.

  In the interim Sarah felt sorry for the young man who’d lost everything.

  Chapter 42 - In Hot Water

  28 NODER 15327

  Peter and Alarin reached Refuge and started their descent. The disposable entry shield on the shuttle flared brightly as the shuttle braked into the atmosphere of the giant moon. Below it would seem to be just another of the many meteors that crossed the sky every day. Or so Peter hoped.

  Slowed to atmospheric speeds, Peter opened the intake nozzles on the side of the shuttle allowing air into the engines. The fusion reactor of the spacecraft heated the air, forcing it to expand and shoot from the rear of the craft as plasma. They plunged into Refuge’s troposphere and the shuttle slowed further as air resistance increased.

  Ahead cumulonimbus clouds dotted the sky, Corriea watched them as the shuttle dropped lower toward the ocean below. He didn’t want turbulence or lightning to end their flight early, so he weaved back and forth between the thunderheads. Lightning played below, which fascinated Alarin as he stared out he cockpit canopy from the copilot seat.

  “I always wondered what creation would look like as a bird,” he said.

  Peter grinned. He loved introducing Alarin, and for that matter Eislen, to new sides of technology. They marveled like children. “We’re higher than most birds will fly, although we won’t be soon.”

  “Can we go into a cloud?”

  “Not these, but I will take you on that ride soon, I promise. These are thunderstorms, and it’s never wise to tempt them by getting too close.”

  “I see. Yes, I can understand that. When storms roll in from the sea to Zeffult, I’ve seen their power. I imagine it’s only stronger inside one.”

  “Throw in hail, violent winds, shearing, and ice accumulating on our shuttle… a bad combination.”

  “Halvi sometimes hurls her anger from such storms, bullets of ice slung from a thousand thousand slings.”

  “A million.”

  “What?”

  “A thousand thousand is a million.”

  Alarin laughed. “I tell you the marvels of the goddess and you correct my word. Only you, Peter Corriea.”

  Peter smiled and flew lower. Alarin grabbed the arms of his chair during the last few hundred meters of their descent as the ocean rose to meet them.

  Peter laughed.

  “I’ve been on ships, but this is a much better way to go,” Alarin observed. His head turned as he watched a small island chain rocket past the right side of the shuttle.

  “This is much faster,” Peter answered. He concentrated at keeping the shuttle clear of islands. The autopilot kept the shuttle one hundred meters above the sea. At this altitude, however, islands came and went quickly. Peter gave them wide berth when he could.

  “Alarin, do you know an island near Merik’s location we can set down on and wait for Commander Gilbert to call us?”

  “Stormwall islands are north and west of Zeffult. Most aren’t inhabited, although there are ships in that area. Those are the only ones I know of,” Alarin replied.

  “We’ll find something ahead of us then.”

  The pair flew on, the inertial navigation system reported the coast less than one hundred kilometers ahead.

  “There, that one,” Peter said. He pointed toward an island passing to their left. He circled the shuttle around, staring at a dense evergreen forest that covered the small islet.

  “There is a clearing on the far side,” Alarin offered. “An expanse of barren rock where no trees grow.”

  “How do you… never mind,” Peter said. “Stupid question.”

  “I know it seems like magic to you, Peter Corriea, but to me it is just how I see.”

  “It’s darn useful at times, I admit.”

  Peter flew the shuttle a few kilometers offshore, in a long lazy arc to circle around the island. He searched for any sign of settlement. He didn’t see anything, so turned toward shore and the barren patch Alarin identified.

  BANG!

  A loud clang erupted from their port thruster. The shuttle ripped into a spin. A hundred meters above the ocean left no time to recover. The shuttle plunged into the water sideways, skipped, then flipped twice. It landed on its belly and sank into the waves a few hundred meters from shore.

  During the crash Peter’s seat frame failed, and his chest impacted the control yoke in front of him. Lights exploded in his mind as searing pain reached his brain. He tasted blood as the ocean rose above the canopy, and external light dimmed as the shuttle sank to a gravel strewn sea floor. Silt billowed around the cockpit canopy, obscuring the light even further until the internal lighting activated.

  Alarin unbuckled from his seat and went to Peter.

  “You’re wounded badly, Peter,” Alarin said. “Tell me which of your machines fixes that and I will get it.”

  Peter looked at Alarin. The adept’s face was bruising adjacent to the
older bruise from Eislen’s attack. Blood ran down Alarin’s face from a cut on his forehead. Yet the adept attended to him.

  “I need you to check the shuttle first, Alarin. If the hull is sound, we are safe from the sea. Look through the blast door to see if the back is dry.”

  Alarin did as Peter asked. “I don’t see any water, Peter.”

  Peter ran the shuttle’s diagnostics to see what systems worked and what didn’t. The fusion core was fine, and the hull reported no damage. Not surprising since it was designed to shrug off micrometeorites. The electrical systems all worked, but the engines were destroyed from ingesting sea water. Peter didn’t know what caused the port engine to fail, but he suspected an adept on the island.

  “I should have had you check the island for adepts.”

  “If an adept has covered his mind, I wouldn’t see anything,” Alarin said. “We have gifts to hide as well as find.”

  “Oh,” Peter groaned, then coughed. “Good to know. Sit back down in the copilot seat, I’m going to teach you to use the radio.”

  Alarin did as Peter requested, learning fast.

  Alarin raised the Stennis via one of the new orbiting comm satellites, and relayed their status. While Alarin talked, Peter stood up and opened the blast door. He felt unstable, as if he were watching himself in a holovid. The world spun around him as he found a more comfortable seat in the back.

  He sat watching the world gyrate wildly and his vision zoomed into small points of light.

  “Alarin,” he called, looking for help.

  The points of light faded as blackness engulfed him.

  Chapter 43 - Call to Action

  28 NODER 15327

  Sarah's shuttle approached the Michael Stennis and Schein in orbit over Fandama. Sarah leaned over the pilot and looked out the canopy.

  The Michael Stennis floated serenely, navlights flashing, growing larger with each passing second. “Doctor, look at this.” Sarah motioned for the doctor to join her behind the pilot.