Resolute Strike (The War for Terra Book 7)

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Resolute Strike (The War for Terra Book 7) Page 18

by James Prosser


  Na’Tora pulled his arms in close and pushed outward before Henry realized what he was doing. He was thrown upwards by the force of the shove and into the overhead panel. He felt strong legs slam into his own abdomen as Na’Tora kicked upwards. The overhead lighting panel cracked and popped as he slammed into the ceiling again and again. The pain in his back intensified. He knew the wound he had gotten earlier was opening wider with each kick. In a panic, he rolled to one side even as another blow kicked into his stomach. He fell away this time, the sharp side of Na’Tora’s foot catching him across the right bicep, tearing flesh and raining blood down onto the alien. Henry hit the deck hard as he landed across the foldout chair and bounced into Na’Tora.

  Na’Tora’s mechanized voice was close to Henry’s ear now. “Unclean blood! You will be washed away when the tide of … the glory of the Empire will stretch across all galaxies!”

  “Moore!” a voice shouted from across the small space. “Here!”

  Henry looked up through watery eyes at the remaining guard near the sealed bulkhead. He was holding a knife he’d drawn from his boot, waving it towards him. Henry raised a hand and the soldier tossed the knife. Henry’s reflexes weren’t up to the task, though, and the knife flew past to the deck between him and Na’Tora. Henry tried to reach for the weapon, but Na’Tora’s scythe-like fingers sliced through his hand, pinning him to the deck. Henry let out a scream of pain and rage as Na’Tora levered himself up. Henry’s hand was a bloody mess. Na’Tora lifted him from the deck and Henry screamed as Na’Tora squeezed but did not cut.

  “Your species will not survive the coming war. We will take our rightful place as the … of all space,” the Ch’Tauk said, his vocoder buzzing. “Die knowing you could have saved … world … were too weak…”

  “Screw you!”

  Despite the pain, Henry twisted around and kicked at the bulkhead where Na’Tora’s plasma bolts had melted away the metal wall. Henry kicked hard. Realizing what he was doing, Na’Tora dropped him and reached for a nearby seat, but it was too late. A screaming whistle became a rush as the bulkhead burst outwards. Henry grabbed one of the nearby seats as the decompression blew everything not nailed down. Na’Tora’s vocoder howled as he was blown into space, quickly disappearing from view. The bodies of the two dead guards and one injured man also flew outwards, their faces calm as their bodies were sent into the vastness. Henry held on tight, not wanting to open his eyes as he felt the force of vacuum tearing at his body. He was colder than he could ever remember. His thoughts went to Emma and their son, whom he would never have a chance to meet. Joining his wife in his mind was the image of his first wife and daughter. He had saved the device at the cost of his own life. It would be a good death, he decided.

  The ship jerked to one side, flinging Henry into the nearby seats. Metal scraped on metal as the whole vessel slammed into a deck and skidded. The hole in the bulkhead tore on impact, but the deck below sealed the open wound. Henry could feel the pressure of vacuum abating as the ship’s atmospheric systems struggled to reassert air and gravity into the sideways cabin. He could hear the shrieking of a pinhole of air escaping the imperfect crash seal. Soon the sound of an alarm klaxon filled the cabin and he realized they were in the landing bay. A whisper of sound, Gregor’s head peeked back through into the main cabin.

  “Any landing you can walk away from,” the big Russian said with a grin. “Moore, you alright?”

  Henry passed into unconsciousness thinking, It would have been a good death.

  Resolute Shuttle

  “They’re in,” Lee called to Resolute over the comm. “Lock it down fast and get them out. We’ll be in when you’re done. Get ready to move.”

  Resolute was taking heavy fire from the Ch’Tauk capital ships which had finally moved in close. Lee and the Demons had managed to get the shuttle to the ship just in time, as he saw bodies being ejected from a hole in the side. A pilot’s prayer moved silently across his lips as he saw the bay doors close quickly. He moved his ship away from the battleship to rejoin the rest of the squadron. Merlin had taken a hard hit to his starboard wing but was still in the battle. The Ch’Tauk fighters had proven to be much more innovative than he remembered. He recognized their tactics as being ones he had taught Alice during flight training years ago. It was strange fighting creatures who knew how to fly like one of your own wingmen, but Lee was able to improvise as well.

  “Alright, Demons,” Lee called to the squadron, juking his control stick hard to avoid asteroid debris. “Split wide and stay close. We’re just in this for cover now. We’re going to try a fast landing and get the hell outta here as soon as we can.”

  “You got it,” called Aztec from behind. “I got my eye on one of them guys. I just gotta take him out first and then I’m in.”

  “Jackal,” Lee ordered. “Go with him and see he comes back in one piece.”

  “Captain,” Kama Yu’s voice crackled over the comm. “We’ve gotten word from Gregor. It was Na’Tora. He’s the one who called the Ch’Tauk.”

  “Status of the device?” Lee asked.

  “The device is secure. You’ve got about thirty seconds before we can pull you back in.”

  “Where’s the Tercero now?” Lee said, his anger rising in his chest. “I want that bastard in irons.”

  “He’s dead,” Kama replied, deflating Lee’s anger slightly. “Gregor thinks Henry killed him, but Henry’s…”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Barely,” Kama replied. “He’s in bad shape. I can’t get anything from the doctor.”

  “Demons…” Lee called over the comm, cutting off anything further Kama wanted to say. “Regroup and get back to Big Momma.”

  A chorus of acknowledgements came back as Lee twisted his fighter over and headed back to the landing bay. Resolute’s cannons were holding off the oncoming Ch’Tauk ships while Kongo kept the smaller vessels at arm’s length with mines. There was a strange moment as he noticed the imitation scavenger ships wheeling around the frigate, defending the ship despite being hopelessly outgunned. He knew both Alliance ships were readying for the voyage away from Perigee and relative safety. As he brought his ship into the bay, he couldn’t help wondering about his former XO and why he had suddenly betrayed the Alliance. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still startled him to think of how close he had come to losing everything again.

  “At least…” Lee said to himself as he settled his ship into its cradle. “At least I know who the bad guys are again.”

  Alliance Assault Frigate Kongo

  “Captain!” Telexo called from behind. “Engineering reports fire in the main reactor room.”

  “What hit us?” Farthing replied, bringing up a scan of the ship projected from the arm of the captain’s seat. “I didn’t know we were hit that hard.”

  “We weren’t. Security reports sabotage in main engineering and water reclamation,” the porcine first officer reported. “They have suspects cornered but not yet in custody.”

  “Sabotage on my ship?” the felinoid captain said, his crest rising high and turning red. “I want those men taken alive for questioning. I want to talk to them.”

  “Sir,” Maslow reported from communications. “Resolute reports all craft on board. They are relaying coordinates for a jump.”

  Farthing turned to the engineering officer behind his seat. “Can we make the jump? Did the fire damage any critical systems?”

  “Fire was mostly superficial,” the crewman replied through his vertical mouth-slit. “Damage non-critical. M-space engines now functional. I have recalled the drones and … sir, I am reading incoming ships. It is the scavengers.”

  “Scavengers?” Farthing said, looking up at the large projection as a deep rumble moved through the bridge. “Are the Ch’Tauk pursuing?”

  “Affirmative,” came the weapons officer’s voice. “Ch’Tauk cruiser analogue inbound at high velocity. We are losing shield strength on the bow, though, where the scavenger ships are approaching.”
r />   “Is it an attack?” Farthing asked the burly weapons officer. “I thought they were on the side of the Alliance?”

  “I don’t believe so. They’re not firing weapons,” the man replied, staring closely at his view screen. “Their course will take them awfully close, though.”

  Give me a tactical projection,” the captain ordered. “Let’s see.”

  On the screen, a dozen small, cobbled-together ships were lining up directly ahead of Kongo. Farthing was stunned at the amount of damage the ships seemed to have taken. At his count, not a single one of the little fighters had been destroyed despite being outmatched by the Ch’Tauk’s bug-like ships. One by one, Farthing watched as the scavenger ships accelerated towards the Kongo. From the stern, the Ch’Tauk ship was closing fast, firing energy bolts into their shields and twisting to avoid the asteroids all around. As the approaching scavenger ships came within a few meters of the Kongo’s bow, a strange golden light seemed to exit each ship. The energy splashed over the Kongo and spread rapidly. After only a few seconds, the golden glow faded and the ship resumed its normal hue, but Farthing was amazed that the shields seemed to have not been affected at all by whatever was being thrown at the ship.

  One at a time, each of the scavenger ships came in close, ejected their payload and veered downwards under the frigate. The Ch’Tauk cruiser barely had time to register the first fighter before it slammed into its armored nose. Farthing switched the view on his screen to watch as the cruiser endured impact after impact. Each ship exploded as it was crushed against the oncoming ship. After the sixth hit, the cruiser’s nose began to glow with heat and plasma energy. Plasma hits continued to slam into the Ch’Tauk vessel. Soon, it was obvious the cruiser was no longer under control. As the last scavenger barreled into the Ch’Tauk, the bow peeled back to reveal the innards of the alien craft. Bodies and deck plating streamed from the open wound and the ship skewed wildly away from Kongo. The last Farthing saw of the ship, it was crashing against an asteroid, erupting in vented plasma and oxygen.

  “Captain,” Telexo reported by his side. “Resolute reports ready to go.”

  “What just happened?” Farthing asked his first officer. “Did we take damage from that?”

  “Negative, Captain,” the engineering officer called out from behind. “The energy dissipated. We are reporting a ten percent increase in power efficiency. The two may be related.”

  “The twins,” Farthing said to himself. “Somehow they … helm, get us out of here before anything else decides to attack.”

  “Aye,” came the reply from the joint station in front of him. “Coordinates locked in. We are initiating a translation.”

  “Now,” Farthing said, rising from his seat and moving towards the door. “I want to see these saboteurs.”

  “I’ll come with you, sir,” the security officer said, handing off his station to a waiting crewman. I think you’ll need me there.”

  “Why?” Farthing asked. “Do you think they’ll still be dangerous?”

  “Oh no, sir,” the man replied. “I just got word from below. The saboteurs aren’t in any shape to fight back. Things got a bit rough. They’re still alive, though, and being taken to sickbay.”

  “So why do you think I’ll need your help?”

  “The saboteurs,” the man replied. “Well, they’re Ch’Tauk. I thought I might need to…”

  “Keep them safe from me?” the felinoid Captain replied, his crest filling with bright red blood again. “I think you’re right. Come on.”

  21

  Battleship Resolute

  “It’s dead.”

  Lee stared at the face of his former first officer. The felinoid’s features remained as calm and placid as ever, but the slight quivering of his long black whiskers and the partially raised crest told a different story. Farthing had always seemed to be the eye of any storm, studying the situation and looking for the most peaceful solution. That image of the two-meter cat was shattered, as Lee saw the splash of green fluid beneath the man’s long claws. He had no doubt killed the Ch’Tauk prisoner in the cell. It was a reminder Farthing was not human and prescribed to the same standards of moral behavior as humans only by choice.

  “Did he say anything before he—”

  “After its capture,” Farthing replied, reaching for the small towel off-screen and wiping his long, claw-tipped fingers. “The Ch’Tauk crushed its own vocoder. I still understand the language, though.”

  “Farthing, I know this was difficult for you but—”

  “Difficult?” the Vadne said, blinking his eyes and looking straight at Lee for the first time. “What was difficult was regaining my composure after I cracked open its armored skull. I wanted to continue, Lee. I wanted to continue to crack through the shell and see what was inside. I wanted to see the evil hiding beneath the surface and destroy it.”

  The vehemence of the man’s emotions forced Lee to take an involuntary step back from the projection. He had decided to take the call in the conference room alone. Farthing had only just stepped from the interrogation center on board Kongo and had not yet had time to reach his own briefing room. The projection appeared as a floating screen above the small stage. Even still, Lee felt uneasy being in the same room as the angry hologram. He imagined Farthing’s own crew must be handling the situation with a mix of fear and relief. Lee couldn’t help but feel his own crew would have kept him from losing control, but knew it was a lie. With Henry Moore in the sickbay and the empty seat on the bridge, Lee had never felt so betrayed.

  “Farthing,” Lee pressed. “Were you able to understand the saboteur?”

  “It was hardly a saboteur,” the Vadne replied. “It wasn’t much more than a waste reclamation worker who managed to hotwire our security protocols and enter the engineering deck. The best it could do was reroute a relay and start a small fire. There is barely any cosmetic damage, much less any real sabotage.”

  “Then what happened?” Lee asked, still trying to get to the truth of the betrayal. “Why did he snap? Why did they all suddenly go berserk?”

  “Lee, you are far too trusting of Admiral Chang,” Farthing replied, again lowering his head and staring at the floor. “He told you and the fleet they were our allies, that we had to accept them on our ship, and you took one onto your bridge. I personally saw to the assignments of the beasts who were assigned to my ship. Both were Centurions, and neither was assigned any duty where they could do any damage.”

  “Alright, I get it,” Lee said, throwing his hands up to the ceiling in an exasperated cry. “I trusted Chang and he stabbed me in the back. He did it so many times I stopped feeling it, but at least I trusted somebody. This war has gone on for so long I think we’ve forgotten what trust is.”

  “We paid for that trust today,” Farthing said in a near whisper. “We paint our dearest blood.”

  Neither captain spoke for several long moments. Each was lost in his own thoughts of the sudden turn of the enemy they knew they shouldn’t have let into their homes. When Admiral Chang had first proposed the alliance, Lee had tried to talk to the man, to convince him of the folly of creating a friend from an enemy. Chang had simply smiled and told Lee that he had to trust him, repeating the adage about keeping friends close and enemies closer. Lee had nodded and walked away thinking he had spoken his mind and it would be enough. He understood now it wasn’t nearly enough. In the end, the loss of his strike team and the near loss of his friend Henry Moore was the price he would need to pay for his own trust.

  “Have you contacted the chancellor?” Farthing said, finally breaking the silence.

  “Kama is trying, but the channels are all blocked,” Lee replied. “She thinks it may be caused by massive comm chatter. She’s trying a few new things to get through but—”

  “It sounds as if what happened here is but a small part of the whole,” Farthing replied. “I will try my own skills as well to get a message through.”

  “If this happened across the Alliance,” Lee began. �
��We may be looking at a loss of ships and personnel that’s—”

  “Staggering,” his friend replied. “I simply cannot understand betrayal. My people are true to their word, Lee. When we failed to assist you during the invasion, it was because we said we would not support the invasion of Ch’Tauk. When we agreed to help, it was for the right reasons. This dishonor from the Ch’Tauk is difficult for me to understand. That a member of this crew—my first crew—would betray me is unthinkable.”

  “You and I have been through the unthinkable too many times to believe that,” Lee replied. “I think both of us need to stop thinking so much and start acting.”

  “I don’t believe anyone,” Farthing said after a pause, “would ever accuse you of thinking too much and acting too little.”

  “Captain…” The voice of Kama Yu breaking in over the comm startled Lee from a short laugh. He stepped over to the podium and pressed the reply switch.

  “Pearce,” Lee called to his comm officer. “What’s up?”

  “I have the chancellor on the line, sir. The connection is a bit threadbare, but I think we can still get two-way.”

  “Can we keep Kongo on the line?”

  “Negative, sir,” replied the woman. I can keep his signal up but he won’t be in on the conversation.”

  “Alright,” Lee said, stepping back around to the projection of his friend. “Let’s talk to the chancellor. Farthing, let’s keep you out of the way for the moment. I want to keep the boss in the dark about your involvement.”

  “Understood,” Farthing replied as Lee shoved his floating screen aside to make way for the hologram of the Alliance Chancellor.

 

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