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

by Damon Alan

  “That's great,” Gilbert replied, “but how do I get Merik to take her shot?”

  “It will take a few days to put my plan into action. I believe giving your marines the ability to deliver chemical agents wouldn't be very hard.”

  “What? Chemical weapons? I thought we covered this sort of ground when we talked about the nukes used on Hamor. I don't want to use that sort of weapon.”

  “Relax, I'm not suggesting it like you think. But we're not in the Alliance anymore, and as far as I'm concerned the normal rules are out the window.”

  “I'm hearing that a lot lately,” Gilbert protested.

  Sarah ignored his protest. “Dr. Jannis's drug can be delivered by flechéttes.”

  “Oh... well, why not just take her head off?”

  This was the risky part of the plan, but it could pay off big time if successful. “Because Dr. Jannis thinks she can neuter Merik's ability. If we can avoid killing her, we take the high moral ground with the other adepts.”

  Not only might the Seventh Fleet look like the good guys, any adepts who might cause trouble would be able to look at a neutered Merik and think twice.

  Gilbert looked skeptical. “Seriously? Is that worth the risk? I’m all for shooting her dead. I just don—”

  Sarah didn’t want to discuss it. She held up her hand to stop him. Plausible deniability with the doctor was valuable. “You get to decide that. I'm leaving the mission parameters entirely up to you.”

  “Okay, it’s my game,” he said. “I’m going in full force.”

  Sarah nodded. “Fair enough. Take out Merik and her adepts, then we'll send in the engineers to get Corriea.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Last time we had any useful satellite data, she was marching her army north in some pretty rough terrain. We might be able to get our shots in before they know we're there.”

  “I'll have engineering make the flechéttes you need, with the compound Dr. Jannis synthesized. Once you deliver the meds, if that’s your choice, you'll have about an hour to dispatch Merik or get her another dose. I will talk to Alarin, but I don't really see an alternative to putting the rest of her adepts down. Just don't tell Jannis. The regular soldiers will probably surrender, but if they don't, you know what to do.”

  “I love your sick mind.”

  That took her by surprise. “What?”

  “Drugs via bullets. Sure, there are tranquilizer guns, but nobody thinks of making tanks shoot drugs.”

  “Times like this require different thinking. There is no law here, except us and a corrupt system down below. I'm picking us. I want Merik dead or captured immediately.” Sarah practically growled the last sentence.

  “I’ll avoid nukes this time,” Gilbert smiled. “That should make you happy.”

  “I’m ordering you to take nothing off the table. If it takes a nuke, you do it. Use your training, make the kill.”

  Gilbert looked at her like she was crazy. “What the… We just had this fight. Didn't you say they already see us as the enemy due to my first nuke? I don't intend to make that worse.”

  Sarah didn’t press the argument. She was telling Gilbert it was his choice. That’s all he needed to know and she’d let him make it. “Get the marines ready, and end this bullshit.”

  Gilbert looked around the bridge, reached out and grabbed her, then pulled her behind an electronics panel. “I'll keep Peter safe. I'll kill or capture Merik. When I come back, I want you to consider going full public about us. The crews have started finding mates, pairing off, but if we're going to build a world... build a life here, we need to be brave enough to let them know it's time to get started on that. I want to be with you on that journey.”

  Sarah looked at him, stunned. “You love me,” she blurted out.

  “I know.”

  She dove into his embrace, feeling his arms go around her. She looked up into his face, and he kissed her. She hadn't been vulnerable to anyone in years, and it felt amazing. They kissed for a minute, then separated.

  “Go, get the marines and take that bitch out,” she said as she pulled away. Her eyes were moist, she rubbed them on her sleeve.

  “Aye, Captain, you're the boss.”

  Sarah watched him leave the bridge.

  I love you too.

  Chapter 45 – Captain’s Personal Log

  28 NODER 15327

  AI Lucy82A recording, Captain's personal log, Michael Stennis archive: Galactic Standard Date 23:48:33 Noder 28, 15327

  Personal log entry #798, Captain Sarah Dayson, origin Korvand, Pallus Sector.

  Current Location: Star System Oasis, orbiting Fandama.

  The trip to the Outhouse...

  [laughter]

  That's Corriea's name for it, not mine, was a complete success. I'm eager to end this and Gilbert is going to get it done. He leaves tomorrow, and… well, let's just say it's Franklin's lucky night.

  There is the crash of Corriea's shuttle to deal with, but Lieutenant Harmeen says that they're in no immediate danger. Dr. Jannis is helping Alarin treat Peter, and there doesn't seem to be an imminent threat to Peter either. But that clock is running.

  [sound of cooler opening, a popping noise as a seal is broken]

  Enough of that. There aren't any guarantees, but victory might be in sight. Franklin is going to go after Merik with the largest part of our ground strike force. He'll be leaving as soon as he's ready, so I'm going to make tonight special. Black lace panties seem to do something for him.

  [252 second delay, sounds AI estimates 82% probability to be changing of clothes and brushing of hair]

  I don't have a plan for Refuge post-Merik yet, but I will work with Alarin to approach the other adepts for reconciliation. Eislen may be of some help too, we've certainly damaged his life enough that he deserves to be part of whatever plan we come up with. I want my people to be able to build lives under open sky, to have children, and to live in peace with no fear of Hive or adepts.

  [a sigh, AI estimates 71% probability to be an expression of contentment]

  Corporal German is pregnant. We have our first confirmation that we're colonists now. She's a coolant technician for the port railguns. I'll have to check with Dr. Jannis to determine the toxicity of the corporal's position and if necessary transfer her to hydroponics for the duration of her pregnancy.

  It made me wonder...

  [sounds AI estimates 84% probability to be brushing of hair a second time.]

  Okay, I'm ready. The officer's wardroom is delivering dinner for two to my quarters. I guess if there was any question about me and Franklin, it's gone now. I'm having whatever the rest of the officers wardroom is eating tonight, but I asked the cooks to make up a plate of that nasty gravy slathered pseudo-meat Franklin loves.

  Wow... that feels almost domestic. Disgusting.

  End log, Lucy.

  Chapter 46 - Boots on the Ground

  33 NODER 15327

  War machines raced over the ocean, rooster tails of salt water sprayed up behind them. Twelve combat insertion shuttles full of marines and tanks sped toward the shoreline ahead.

  Gilbert yelled over the noise of the shuttle into his headset. “There is a plateau due east, sitting in a narrow band of hills. Drones finally found the adept army in a forest south of those hills, although we don’t know exactly where because they tore the drone from the sky. Keep us well north and set us down on the plateau so we can offload the tanks and men.”

  The pilot of the heavy lift shuttle looked at his co-pilot, who gave him a thumbs up and answered Gilbert. “Roger, Commander, we have the location on terrain radar and marked. ETA seven minutes.”

  Gilbert turned back toward his tank, and ordered his men to strap in. “We roll off as soon as we touch down, so be ready.” He rested his hand on the pilot’s shoulder. “I want the shuttles to drop, pop, and go. Get over the horizon and wait for our call.”

  The pilot grinned like a maniac. “Got it. I love the drop and pop sims. This should be amazing in real life.”
/>
  Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Just don't kill us.”

  “I aced this on the sim at least ninety percent of the time, Commander,” the pilot replied. “We'll be fine.”

  Ninety percent?

  “You better be joking.”

  The pilot laughed. “You should get in your tank, Commander, we're passing shoreline now.”

  Gilbert crawled up on the tank and entered through the command hatch. He strapped into his position.

  Gilbert greeted his gunner. “Hello, Sergeant Hamden. Congrats on your promotion. It looks like it’s you and me again.”

  “Hi, sir.” Hamden ran his checklists, marking off systems as they passed muster. “The fusion reactor is firing up, should be at one hundred percent when we land.”

  “Great. With that little stunt the adepts pulled on Satier, I wish this thing was powered by coal.”

  “We'll be fine, sir, I checked that new ammo. Queen Bitch won't see it coming, and we have plenty. The engineering guys did pretty good getting it to us fast.”

  Gilbert agreed. “Dr. Jannis cranked out doses too, which is good because we don’t know which one of these idiots is Merik. I’d like to take her alive.”

  Hamden grunted. “If you say so, sir.” He continued his checklist.

  The sound of the shuttle engines passing through the hull of the tank changed. “Doors open in thirty seconds,” the pilot called over the radio.

  “Roger, we're a go,” Gilbert replied into his mic. “Set us down and run like hell.”

  The shuttle bumped as the struts touched the ground, and the back door of the massive craft opened. The two story gargantuan Gilbert commanded rolled out of the back, down the loading ramp. As soon as the tank was one hundred percent on grass, the engines of the shuttle fired up and it raced toward the ocean. Gilbert watched the cargo doors swing closed as the shuttle blasted skyward. Two other shuttles took a bit longer to unload, but tracked belts in the floor of the shuttle rolled cargo containers out onto the ground to supply the base camp. Technicians swarmed out into the grass to set things up.

  Gilbert barked orders into the mic. “All combat units form on me. Soldiers not assigned an interior slot, fall in on your assigned tank. We're heading south in twenty minutes. Scouts, head out now. I want visual on our targets as of yesterday.”

  Gilbert switched his cupola view to tactical, and he watched as six scout units ran into the trees.

  “All tanks, check your ammo load. You should be using smart flechéttes, not the new rounds. Sergeant Hamden will make the adept shot. Load all main guns with anti-personnel HE rounds.”

  The tanks checked in sequentially, confirming the order.

  There would be a short wait until the scouts were sufficiently ahead to provide useful intelligence.

  “It's going to be different this time, Commander. I can feel it,” Hamden said.

  “Think so? We have to get them all, Hamden. If it looks like an adept, shoot it. Either with the new load, or to kill, but either way if we miss one we're dead. This isn't a time for overconfidence.”

  “No sir,” Hamden replied. “But it feels good to be on the offensive.”

  “I guess it does, sergeant. Just don't get cocky.”

  “Me? Noooo, sir.”

  Gilbert smiled. He loved his marines, and choosing Hamden as his gunner had been a wise choice. The kid was young, a troublemaker, but sharp as a tack. A perfect combination for a soldier if he can be kept focused. Hamden almost cracked during the last combat mission, but he'd pulled it together and performed the task. He'd loaded the nuke. Gilbert needed someone who'd take that step and Hamden had done it. Some men froze when playing with that particular fire. It would be easier for Hamden to do it again if it came to that.

  “Scouts are in position, sir, closing on sporadic reports of enemy movement to the south,” crackled in over the radio.

  “Let's see what we've got.” Gilbert reviewed visuals from the scouts with Hamden, and together they selected targets for the targeting computer. Three killing fléchettes were assigned to each adept as they were revealed. The targeting computer tracked the adepts and categorized them with a designator. A different magazine carried the new fléchettes, the small anti-personnel gun could fire from either at any time. Hamden assigned one of the drug carrying fléchettes to each adept, there weren’t many rounds to spare. Their plan was fluid, Gilbert would have the option of killing or taking the enemy down when it was time to shoot.

  Soldiers clad in leather and wood armor skulked among the trees. Occasionally the long range cameras revealed a figure clad in blue with varying degrees of ornamentation. “Sure is convenient they feel the need to dress like clowns,” Hamden said as he marked successive targets.

  Once targeting was complete, Gilbert ordered his tanks to roll south and disperse. The tanks spread wide in a sweeping arc, intending to envelop any enemy they found. The closest enemy was only ten kilometers away, closer than Gilbert thought they'd be. They appeared alert, likely due to the noise the shuttles made on landing.

  That won't save them.

  Four kilometers from the enemy, Gilbert stopped and gave the order to fire. Gilbert decided to kill the male adepts, but spare the females in the hopes of capturing Merik. The fléchettes ripped from the end of the tank’s smaller gun, streaking off to find their designated target.

  VARUUUMP!

  Gilbert watched as the fléchettes struck from the view of a scout camera. The headless bodies of the men dropped to the ground, but the females jerked as the smart munitions hit them in the fleshy part of their rumps. In short order they began wailing in the midst of the soldiers who were meant to protect them. The soldiers, understanding the adepts to be of no further use, scrambled for deeper cover.

  That won’t save you either, if you don’t surrender.

  “Scout lead, did we get all the adept targets?”

  “I counted seventeen hits on seventeen targets, Commander. Eleven males dead, six females inert.”

  Gilbert shook his clenched fist in victory. “Let’s hope that’s the right number. We'll wait ten minutes or so for adrenalin to wear off of the soldiers, then go clean up them up. I want blindfolds and restraints on the living adepts. Proceed cautiously.”

  Tanks rolled forward, crushing trees under their tracks as they moved.

  Chapter 47 - Striking at God

  Middle of Firstday, cycle 95, year 8748

  Merik stood on a cliff overlooking the shallow ocean. She'd walked alone most of the morning to reach that point, wanting to enjoy Alarin's misery in private. Wind blew hard from the sea into her face. She smiled with joy, knowing that out there, just below the surface of the water, was the target of her vengeance.

  Alarin. Merik reached out to confirm his presence.

  Alarin, I can sense your mind, you wretched man. Traitor. I loved you.

  He refused to answer her but she felt his emotions. “You're sad that you betrayed me,” she yelled into the wind. “You idiot, you were about to be handed the world. I planned to raise you to be a god like me. My power grows, and soon nothing will be impossible.”

  Merik probed in his direction.

  “Don't you feel sorry for me, you bastard!” Merik screamed.

  Merik hurled a carriage sized boulder toward the sea, it arced far into the sky. She transferred the balancing energy into the cliff face north of her, and rocks sloughed off into the water.

  She raged into the wind. “I will find you out there, hiding with demon magic under the ocean. I will find you, kill you, and burn your flesh to ash. But first I want you to know when your new friends die.” She watched as the rock plunged into the sea in the distance, a gigantic splash reached for the sky. An amorphous cloud of mist blew eastward in the strong wind.

  What do you mean?

  “So you finally respond? When I threaten your demonic friends, but not when I want to speak to you? I will send you to Tsungte, you shit. Shit!”

  Her rage built to a crescendo, and dozens of larg
e boulders ripped from the ground and hurtled toward the sea. Sections of cliff up and down the shore from her fell away into the water.

  She watched as splashes dotted the ocean. He'd sensed one of those boulders, but she didn't know which one.

  “You see my power now, but a rock is not how I will kill you. I will find a special way, one that has you screaming for many days and longnights. Something never done before.”

  He refused to answer, but she got what she wanted from him. Fear.

  A sound cracked through the air behind her, and she turned back toward her encampment.

  Something is wrong.

  She reached across the two hour walk with her mind, feeling for her adepts. Nothing. Panic struck her, a sinking in her stomach.

  The demonic men have found a way to kill us.

  She ran back toward camp, unmindful of sweat forming on her brow.

  Energy flowed into her, and she ran nonstop for a long time. She crested a hill just west of her camp. Below her was a scene beyond comprehension. She lay down in the tall grass and hid as she surveyed the vista below. She saw a green valley with a small farm where her soldiers were encamped waiting her return. Sitting amid the soldiers were houses, strange houses without windows. They had strange doors, open on five of them. Four of them sat farther away, as if guarding the houses at the farm. Men dressed as the men from the demonic sky sword stood near her men. Several dozen of her soldiers were laying on the ground, their flesh ripped up and blood staining the grass.

  Then she saw the bodies of her adepts. Males missing their heads, females restrained and hooded.

  The demonic creatures had her male adepts stacked like cord wood, disrespected in death like commoners.

  There is nothing here now. The demons have taken my followers.

  Without thinking, Merik took the offensive. She examined the houses with her mind, each one contained a core of heat.

  Faroo! You help these demons. I will bend you to my will.

  Merik sensed the forces containing the essences of Faroo, and she realized that Faroo wasn't helping the demons at all, but was their prisoner.