“Booze,” said Amelia, Benkei, and Sam simultaneously.
“I’m not sure why I expected to hear anything else,” he said in response.
“Do you think these weirdos even drink, or do they just lounge around eating grapes all day?”
“I don’t think it would be a proper hedonistic paradise without libations,” said Benkei.
Amelia scoured the vast expanse of the plaza, looking for anything that resembled a bar. Peering through some particularly leafy foliage just beyond an especially ornate fountain, she spotted a small cluster of tables, some of which were occupied by Edeners with glasses of dark purple wine in front of them as they chatted with lively expressions on their faces.
“I can spot a bar anywhere, and that’s definitely one.”
“Then let’s not waste another moment,” said Benkei.
Chapter 25
Amelia cupped her hands under the cool water of the bathroom faucet on the Meridian, allowing it to pool before splashing it over her face. She then lifted her head, looking at her face in the mirror. She noted that her cheekbones, already prominent, were beginning to become more pronounced than usual through her fair, freckled skin. She knew that she had a tendency to forget to eat, and made a promise to herself to make sure to have at least a bowl of the noodles that Benkei made for lunch every day.
But then she remembered this was all contingent on them surviving the next few hours.
“Hey, Am,” called the voice of Sam through the captain’s quarters comms. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re about ready to get this candle lit.”
Amelia took one last look at herself in the mirror -happy to be back in her own clothes- as she tied her inky black hair into a loose top knot before heading back into her quarters.
“I’ll be on the bridge in a minute,” said Amelia, stepping into her black boots and lacing them up.
She made her way to the bridge, stopping in the main hub room when she saw that Benkei was preparing a fresh pot of tea.
“I thought you finished that stash of yours off,” said Amelia, watching him carefully pour the tea into a small, intricately designed cup.
“Stashes upon stashes,” said Benkei. “Shall I pour you a cup?”
“You know what, sure,” said Amelia, sliding into the chair opposite Benkei.
Benkei withdrew a matching cup, filled it with tea, and set it down in front of Amelia.
“This should help set your mind right after our little indulgence,” he said, sitting down across from her and taking a sip from his cup.
“You seem a little preoccupied, little one.”
“I am, a little,” she responded before blowing on her tea.
“Worried about the mission?”
“Nah,” she said, trying to determine if she should tell Benkei about her reunion with Captain Drummond.
A moment passed, and she decided that she would.
“The head of security for the Initiative,” she said, taking her cup into her hand, sitting back, and propping her leg onto the table.
“The captain? Dalton? What about him? I remember his name; I don’t believe I got a look at his face through his helmet.”
“Drummond,” she said.
“Ah. Well, I never said I was good with names.”
“No, you got the name right. But he used to have a different one.”
Benkei looked up from his tea, his forehead crinkled in confusion.
“You’re going to have to help me out with this,” he said.
“Sorry. Captain Dalton’s real name is Ephraim Drummond. He was with the Federation. In the Geist Program.”
“Ah,” said Benkei. “The picture becomes slightly clearer. I take it you have a personal history with him, then?”
“You could say that. He was one of the higher-ups in the program, one of the officers in charge of getting us acclimated to the world of violence when we were little.”
“I see.”
“Completely ruthless. He had us running ops during the Sector War against civilian populations. Ops I’d rather not spend too much time thinking about.”
Benkei said nothing, instead letting Amelia go on.
“And during the Sector War, he was one of the officers in charge of the purges in Korea.”
Benkei nodded with recognition.
“Now the name sounds familiar,” he said. “When defeat was seeming to be more of a possibility and the Federation grew more drastic in their attempts to keep down dissidents.”
“Exactly. A war criminal through and through.”
“So, with a name change and new post, he managed to avoid justice. That’s the problem with a conflict like the Sector War- when it’s all about bringing the dominant power down, there’s no one left to pick up the pieces afterwards.”
“Exactly. Drummond’s just one of hundreds, probably thousands, actually, of war criminals who slipped into hiding after the Federation broke apart.”
“Now making their way as mercenaries, like us.”
“True, but people like him...They escaped the firing squad that they deserved.”
“At least those like Dioc are honest enough to own up to wanting to simply put the Federation back together; people like this Drummond are, ah, anyone’s dog for a bone, as they say.”
“Right. And the kind of scum you want when you’re looking to wipe out millions of people, no questions asked.”
“Then let’s hope that our plan goes off without a hitch.”
“Guys?” asked Sasha, his voice piping in through the comms.
“What’s up?” asked Amelia, tossing back the last of her tea.
“You both might want to get down here.”
Sharing a quizzical look, Amelia and Benkei got up and took the elevator down to the lab. When the doors opened, they saw Sasha standing in front of a monitor, a projection of the missile rotating in front of him.
“What’s up?” asked Amelia.
“It’s the missile. I’ve been looking at the design, and I don’t think the Edeners know exactly what they have on their hands.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, it should work as they said it would: Any electronics within a half of the impact will be temporarily disabled.”
“And?”
“But when they said the slightest impact could set it off, they weren’t kidding. And what’s more, the propulsion system that they’re using is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before; it’s highly unstable. If we even get winged by some stray rounds on the side this thing is mounted on…”
“We’re toast,” said Amelia.
“Spectacularly burnt toast. Atomized toast. Toast broken apart at the sub-atomic level. Toa-“
“OK, I get it,” said Amelia.
“Then we ought to make sure to fly with exceptional care,” said Benkei.
“Hey, I’m not the one you need to tell that to,” said Sasha.
As if in response, the engines of the Meridian roared to life, the ship vibrating as Sam prepared to take off.
“You guys ready?” asked Sam over the comms.
Benkei and Amelia exchanged a quick look of concern before dashing up to the flight deck to share the recent information with Sam.
“Lucky for us we’re going in cloaked,” she said, adjusting dials and preparing for take-off.
As they got seated and prepared to launch, a call from the Eden city came in. Amelia answered it on the main viewscreen, which was filled with the image of the Guru, his face the picture of peace and calm.
“Hello, my friends. Are you prepared for the task ahead?”
“About as ready as we’re going to be,” Amelia said.
“Very good. Our armies are currently being deployed; they will be traveling around Crater, and should be engaged with the city’s defenses in less than a half-hour.”
“That’s about how long it’ll take for us to fly in low and stealthed.”
“Very good. Peace be with you, friends,” he said, signing off.
&
nbsp; With a final push from the engine, the Meridian blasted out of the dock. On the lunar surface, the team could see the mechanized armies of the Edeners: hundreds of massive combat mechs painted with the same muted Earth tones as the citizens of the city wore, fast-moving tanks that left heavy tread imprints in the gray dust of the moon as they moved, and a half-dozen stilt-walkers that ambled like spiders as they towered over the rest of the forces. And above all of them were dozens of spacecraft with pointed fronts and erratic angles that looked to Amelia like enormous leaves.
“That’s going to be a messy little fight,” said Benkei.
“No kidding,” said Amelia. “Good thing we’re steering clear of that.”
And with that, they kicked in the engines and headed for their destination.
Chapter 26
“Cloaking now,” said Sam, placing her fingertips on the readout screen and turning her wrist, a brilliant shimmer washing over the flight deck window as the ship entered stealth mode.
“So, just a smooth run until we get there,” said Benkei.
“Looks that way,” said Amelia.
“What’s the plan for the assault?” asked Benkei. “Standard smash and grab?”
“We’ll see if we can’t get in quiet-like- if this missile works like they said, then they’ll be blind for a good half-hour. But get loaded up for an assault, just in case.”
“Once I drop you guys off, I’ll get some height between the ship and the city,” said Sam, guiding the Meridian through the same sloping twists and turns of Crater that they’d used coming from the other direction. “Then, once the mission’s complete, I’ll zip in and pick you guys up.”
“Call it my soldier’s instinct,” said Benkei. “But I get wary when a plan sounds that simple.”
“Come on, big man,” said Sam. “Let’s have some positive thinking.”
Benkei made a skeptical expression and settled back into his seat.
“Uh, guys,” said Sasha over the comms. “We have a little bit of a problem. Er, a really big problem.”
“Get on the viewscreen,” said Amelia.
“Yeah, sure.”
Sasha’s face appeared on the screen, a worried expression on his features.
“You know when I said the missile containment unit is a little unstable?”
“I don’t like where this is going,” said Amelia.
“Well, I’ve been watching it since we switched into stealth, and it’s getting worse by the second.”
“What do you mean, ‘getting worse’?” demanded Amelia.
“Meaning, the containment field was barely keeping the payload together before, but the higher energy output because of stealth is interfering with it. If we don’t turn off stealth, then this thing’s going to pop in about ten minutes, give or take.”
“And how long until we get to the entry point?”
“About fifteen minutes,” said Sam. “But that’s not all.”
“Great. What else?”
“I hacked into some tracking satellites to see if we could get a better idea of what our entry point is looking like, and, well, just look.”
With a swipe of her hand, she brought the image from one of her readouts onto the main screen. And what they saw was grim: instead of an empty section of the city’s outer perimeter, the image showed an enormous massing of forces. Dozens of the ovoid ships hovered in neat rows, and square deployments of troops stood among towering battle mechs.
“Those are definitely not supposed to be there,” said Amelia.
“It would appear that the surprise attack isn’t going to be much of a surprise, after all,” said Benkei.
“If we fly over those troops with the cloak off, we’ll get ripped apart in seconds,” Sam said. “And we wouldn’t be far enough to launch the missile without being in range.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, figuring out a plan.
“Then we fly over the battlefield.”
“Are you kidding?” asked Sasha through the comms. “One stray hit from a coil gun would set this thing off.”
“Well, we either fly into direct fire that absolutely will hit us, or fly through crossfire that might hit us.”
“Neither sounds too appealing,” said Benkei. “But one significantly less so than the other.”
“Sam, fly us over the battlefield. We’re going in through the front door.”
“You got it, cap,” Sam responded, apprehension in her voice.
As they pulled up, the image of the Guru appeared on their viewscreen.
“The attack is underway, my children. I hope all fares well with you.”
“Little bit of a change of plans,” said Amelia. “We’re going to be flying over the battlefield.”
“What?”
“Try and keep the fire off us,” said Amelia. “And maybe watch your flank.”
Amelia flicked off the screen, knowing they’d need all their concentration for what was to come.
“OK, cap,” said Sam. “We’re about to pull out of Crater, and once we do, the fire’s going to be about as intense as it gets.”
“Like walking through a bramble bush and hoping not to get pricked,” said Benkei.
“Here we go,” said Sam, pulling back on the flight stick.
The Meridian pulled up and out of Crater at an extreme incline. And once they reached the surface, the battle scene before them was quickly determined by the crew to be one of chaos. Battle mechs were engaged in pitched combat, firing at one another with plasma bolts that left the battlefield crisscrossed with green streaks of energy. The spacecraft above exchanged missile and projectile-weapon fire, the hulls of the ships lighting up with the weapons’ impact. Tanks were deployed in the ground-dug firing position, launching explosive rounds across the gray span of the surface that landed with silent, brilliant blossoms of orange. And through the calamity, the black figures of Initiative troopers could be seen, running here and there, firing off rounds when they could, but mostly being pulverized by the thick weapons-fire that filled the air.
“Shit, shit,” said Sam, weaving through the weapons-fire. “This is worse than I thought.”
“Looks like a few thousand troops on each side,” said Amelia. “They’re not screwing around.”
“I suppose we get the dubious honor of being the match for this particular powder keg.”
“Hold on!” said Sam, banking to avoid a battery of ruby-red laser fire.
Amelia looked down, watching the carnage of the battle unfold. Both sides were ripping into one another with fierce abandon, and the field was already littered with smoking tanks and wrecked mechs.
“Shit!” cried Sam, shoving the stick forward and flying the ship under an incoming missile.
“Too close,” said Amelia.
“You wanna fly this thing?” responded Sam, her eyes fixed forward.
“Warning, low altitude,” said the onboard computer. “Pull up. Pull up.”
“Gah, shut up!” said Sam, slamming her hand on the readout and silencing the computer.
Through the window, Amelia could see that they were dangerously close to the ground; she could make out the waving limbs of the ground troops as they dove for cover from incoming fire.
“When can we shoot this thing?” asked Amelia, her hands gripping her armrests.
“Almost,” said Sam. “We just gotta keep stable for enough time to get a lock-on.”
She steadied the ship, the outer ring of Universitet visible in the distance.
“OK, steady,” she said.
But just as the ship leveled off, it shook with the impact of some kind of weapons-fire. The crew looked at each other with wide eyes.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Sasha through the comms. “We got lucky. Don’t do that again.”
“Ok, let’s try this again,” said Sam, steadying the ship once again.
“Almost,” she said, holding the flight stick still.
A round of steady beeps sounded from her station, i
ndicating a lock.
“Now!” cried Amelia.
Sam slammed her fist down on the launch panel. The ship shifted as the massive missile dislodged and fired, the long body of the thing now careening towards the city, a white contrail behind it. Within seconds, it disappeared over the horizon.
“That work?” asked Amelia.
A huge explosion of magnetic electricity was her response. The dome of crackling blue expanded in the distance, covering all the city that they were able to see.
“I think so,” said Benkei.
“Readings are good,” said Sam, watching the explosion die down. “No structural damage, but a huge part of the city is powered down. We’ve got about an hour before backup from the rest of the city’s powerplants kick in.”
“Then let’s make this fast,” said Amelia, rising from her seat.
Chapter 27
Amelia, Benkei, and Sasha stood over the hatch in the bottom level of the Meridian, the ship positioned over a ceiling airlock that would allow them to access the city.
“You guys loaded up?” asked Sam, looking over the crew.
Amelia threw one last glance down the smooth black body of her coil rifle, gave a final pat to her hip pockets to confirm that she had enough rounds, and checked the magazine of her twelve-millimeter pistol. Benkei looked approvingly at Mädchen before tucking the massive rifle into his backstrap. Sasha held his plasma pistol apprehensively.
“You guys really need me along for this?” he said, uncertainty in his voice. “I can, you know, provide support from the ship. Might be a little, uh, easier.”
“We might have need of your expertise,” said Benkei.
“Fine, fine,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’m gonna blast this hatch open from outside the airlock,” said Sam. “You guys get in there as fast as possible. And don’t get your goddamn heads blown off!”
With that, she stepped outside the airlock.
“OK,” said Amelia, strapping on her zero-atmosphere helmet, her face underlit by the blueish white light through the angled glass of the helmet. “Let’s do it.”
Unknown Cargo (The Meridian Crew Book 1) Page 11