Enrique changed direction again, but this time Kelly reacted too slowly and became separated from him by a wall of tree trunks. No stopping now, she’d have to try and catch up with him further on. She increased her pace, feeling the already aching muscles of her legs starting to burn. For how long she might be able to keep ahead of her pursuers she didn’t know.
A cry and a grunt came from nearby and she saw Enrique fall, a bundle of black suits on top of him. She stopped and looked for a way to help. “Enrique!” she shouted.
“Forget me! Run!” Enrique cried, as a large gloved hand forced his face down into the ground. “RUN!”
Kelly set off again, but stopping for Enrique had allowed the soldiers behind to make significant gains. Ten seconds later, she sensed one of her pursuers inches from her back. The next moment, her legs were pulled from under her, causing her to crash face first onto the ground. She rolled over to see a helmet-less woman pinning her down, using her weight alone. The woman’s lithe physique belied her underlying strength, and Kelly was able to do little about her predicament. Nevertheless, she struggled against her captor, though she was soon surrounded and completely overpowered as others caught up. Several red eyes, embedded within black helmets, stared down at her as she was forced onto her front and her arms were pulled behind her back.
“Let go! Let go of me you bastards!” she cried as she felt metal links wrap around her wrists. Electronic cuffs! There was a short bleep and the restraints locked tight.
She was hauled to her feet and met the face of the woman who had tackled her. The woman’s black uniform looked well-worn, covered in sand and dirt, dull greys and chalky whites splattered all over, intermixed with dark red splotches. It also looked as if it had been cut and perforated by knives and bullets. It was a far cry from the smooth, near-immaculate uniforms that had belonged to the soldiers at Arlos.
Kelly looked at the woman’s face. She was beautiful, her skin flawless and smooth, without the slightest blemish, mole or imperfection visible anywhere. Her hair was blonde, shoulder-length, and as straight and clean as if she had just walked out of a salon. Her blue eyes, too, were bright, but, at the same time, dead. There was no warmth in them. Like her deadpan, serious expression, they seemed to lack life, as though they had been stripped clean of all humanity. They no longer existed as another way to convey feelings and emotions, now only to permit sight.
Still, Kelly attempted an appeal. “I said, let me go,” she glared.
The woman said nothing; she didn’t even seem to hear her.
Kelly wondered what had happened to her to make her act in such a way. Did this woman know who she was? Did she recognise her as the daughter of a famous galactic trader? No, she probably didn’t. Something else crept into her head at that moment – did this woman even know who she was herself? Kelly didn’t know why, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman hadn’t always been a soldier.
A male soldier strode forward and grabbed hold of Kelly roughly, before throwing her over his shoulder. He did so with very little effort, Kelly sensing both the man’s height and thickness of muscles as he held her in place. The troop then marched back to the beach. Her captors said nothing as they walked, acting in an altogether robotic fashion. A short time later, she was dumped down onto the sand and found herself sat in a cluster of other CSN servicemen.
“Kelly!”
Enrique’s voice! He was okay; he was alive! She glanced around until she spotted him. The two had been dropped not far from one another.
“You okay?” he said.
She nodded and considered the scene about her. A handful of Ifrit’s crew sat on their knees in the sand, surrounded by a number of Imperial soldiers. Save for those being electronically bound and dragged over to join the group, it looked like most of Ifrit’s surviving crew had been killed in the assault. For what reason they had been spared, Kelly couldn’t be sure. She noticed a figure approaching the group – a tall, light-skinned man of average build, sporting spiky blond hair. He was dressed differently from the others, his uniform looking more formal and presenting an air of importance. The Imperial soldiers parted as he drew near. Kelly was sure she had seen that face somewhere before.
“Julian Rissard,” a cutting voice came from close by her.
She turned to see Cole glaring up at the approaching man. Cole’s nose was blooded and his face bruised. By the look of things, he had attempted to put up a fight before he had also been caught, bound and dumped with the others. Heads turned to follow Rissard as he slowly circled the group, looking upon them as if he were inspecting livestock.
“Commodore Rissard, with your actions here today you are in violation of numerous intergalactic treaties—” Cole began.
“Silence,” Rissard said, his voice calm and even.
“Your attack on Confederation Naval forces constitutes—”
“I SAID BE QUIET!” Rissard spat back.
He speaks English! Kelly thought, looking up into the man’s face. As with the soldiers, his skin was virtually flawless, his eyes a bright blue. She remembered seeing those eyes during the early morning briefing for Operation Menelaus, six months previous. She found them as eerie now as they had been back then. A shiver ran down her spine, one she was very sure had been caused by those eyes, and not the dampness of her clothes that were still drying in the sun.
“This could be seen as a declaration of war on the Confederation and her government,” Cole continued, undeterred. “If you intend to take us prisoner, then you should be aware that the Confederation Stellar Navy will not negotiate with—”
Without another word, Rissard reached into his jacket, withdrew a pistol and shot Cole squarely in the forehead. The thin red beam of the laser passed straight through the security captain’s skull, killing him instantly.
Kelly looked away from the sight as Cole’s body slumped over backward. Oh my God!
“I will not say it again. Keep your mouths shut!” Rissard repeated, returning the weapon to his jacket. “You talk, you die.” He signalled to the groups of soldiers that were scouring the beach, who began to drag and carry Ifrit’s remaining survivors to the circle.
Kelly looked past the soldiers, scanning both the beach and the shallow waters. She still couldn’t see any of her fellow team-mates anywhere. Where were they? Where had they gone? Maybe they had come down elsewhere. Or perhaps they were still in the skies, about to become very late arrivals to the beach. She turned her eyes skyward, but was unable to see any other sleds; nor any indication of where they may have fallen, if they had been there at all. She prayed that they weren’t among those who were still in the water. Despite the carnage that had occurred on the beach, she could see swimmers still desperately trying to make their way to shore. They looked exhausted. They must’ve landed a long way out from everyone else.
She became aware that Enrique was looking at her. Rissard had moved away from the circle and closer to the shoreline, his back to the group.
“I can’t see Estelle or any of the others,” Enrique whispered, as more of Ifrit’s crew were dumped down next to them.
“I haven’t seen Dodds or Chaz, either,” Kelly whispered back. “I don’t think they’re here—”
“ARE YOU DEAF, AS WELL AS STUPID?” Rissard shouted.
Kelly felt her heart jump into her throat as the commodore swung around, pulled out his gun and trained it on her forehead. She was amazed how, even from where he had walked to, and with the sound of the burning vehicles and lapping waves, he had still been able to hear her. Kelly braced herself, but Rissard stopped short of pulling the trigger. His flared eyes narrowed and he lowered the weapon, walking over to stand before her. He studied her for a time, before turning to look at the others. He paused over Enrique and his lip curled, looking quite pleased.
He was looking for us. He knows who we are. Kelly thought.
Rissard’s eyes darted over the rest of the group, but didn’t linger on anyone else. He then turned and shouted something to
the soldiers who stood in the shallows. His words were unrecognisable, but the answer that came back was simple to understand, the soldiers replying with a shake of their heads. Rissard turned back to the bound, silent group, scanned it one last time and then barked something else. With a nod of their heads, the soldiers turned to face the sea, unholstering and raising their guns, before then firing upon the swimmers, hitting each one with near-perfect accuracy. Skybikes flew out across the waves, hovering above those who were out of range of the soldiers on the beach and gunning them down with an equal lack of mercy. Some of the swimmers attempted to dive beneath the waves in a bid to escape, but could only hold their breath for so long before they were forced to swim back up. They were met by a hail of fire upon breaking the surface.
“NO!” Kelly cried out in horror, as the shallow waters began to run red. “NO! STOP!”
Rissard whirled around and strode over toward her, raising the laser pistol he still held in his hand and striking her across the face with it. Her vision exploded in stars and she cried out in pain. She held her balance through the haze of her vision, feeling a hand move under her chin and lifting her head up to look the Imperial commodore straight in those unsettling, unnatural-looking, bright blue eyes.
“Be. Quiet,” Rissard said, smoothly. He turned his head in the direction of Enrique and a sick smile crossed his features for a brief moment.
Kelly glanced to Enrique, seeing the hurt and anger in his eyes. She said nothing, instead imploring him with her own eyes not to say or do anything. He did not, but even so she could see he was struggling to contain himself.
Seeming satisfied that his work was done, Rissard gave another order and the soldiers began looting bodies, relieving the corpses of their weapons and ammunition. He then signalled to the circle and the captives were hoisted to their feet. The group were then frogmarched up the beach, towards the array of waiting vehicles the soldiers had arrived in.
Kelly took one last look at the beach as she and Enrique were bundled inside a waiting APC. Bodies floated face-down in the shallow water, their terrible wounds clear even from this distance. They were being tossed about in the surf by the water’s edge now, the tow of the tide pushing the dead men and women up the shoreline, before yanking them back out. She recognized none of the bodies. What had become of her three friends? Would she see them again? And if so, under what circumstances?
A moment later, the doors of the APC shut with a bang … and the beach was gone.
VII
— Last Rays of a Setting Sun —
Marc de Winter lowered his newspaper and met the exasperated look on his wife’s face, with one of his own. Estelle had been prepared for this reaction from her parents. She had warned her brother, too, to expect it, though she had insisted that he remain quiet and let her do all the talking.
“The army?” Marie, her mother, said. “You’re both going to join the army? Are you mad?”
“Actually, Jed is joining the army,” Estelle corrected her. “I’m planning on enlisting in the navy.”
“Well, there’s not much difference.”
“There’s a fair bit, in fact—” Estelle began, before she noticed her father’s shocked expression beginning to slip, becoming replaced with one of anger.
“Why the hell do you want to go and do a thing like that?” he said.
“So that we can do something with our lives, Dad.”
“Eh? What’s wrong with the life you’ve got here?” he frowned, making a show of looking about the living room, about their home.
A lot, Estelle thought. “Well, for a start, I don’t exactly have a decent job—”
“Yes, you do.”
Estelle suppressed a sigh. “I’m a waitress in a greasy spoon café, filled with fat, perverted transit drivers who can’t keep their hands on their knives and forks for longer than it takes to shovel the slop into their mouths.”
“And you’ve got that at least! You should be grateful! There are hundreds of thousands of people who would give their right arm to get into work! You see this?” He prodded his newspaper. “It says here that the closure of the Lee Mason manufacturing plant in Dawes is going to have a knock on effect on the rest of the economy, and unemployment is set to rise again! And now you’re standing there telling me that you’re going to pack it all in to join the military? Have you forgotten that they did nothing for us back during the troubles? All they were interested in was—”
“Marc, be quiet,” Marie cut in, glaring at her husband. He fell silent and she looked back to Estelle. “Estelle, what’s brought this on? Aren’t you happy here?”
Estelle hesitated for a moment. Whilst this was a question that she had seen coming, she had struggled with how best to answer it without creating friction, or any sort of resentment or hurt feelings. Unfortunately, in the time leading up to her little announcement, she’d been unable to think of any. “No,” she said simply.
“No?” her father flared. “You ungrateful—”
“Marc, for God’s sake, shut up!” Marie said.
Marc threw up his hands in disgust, but said nothing more.
“I’ve fully researched it,” Estelle jumped in, before her mother could speak again. “Jed and I took a trip to the recruitment centre last week and had a long talk with them. At the end of the day, it’s a job like any other and they’re always looking for people. All we need to do is pass a fitness and background test, and then we’re in. There are a lot of different positions available, too.”
Despite Estelle’s attempts, her mother didn’t look too convinced. “Well, I guess you could work as a chef? They need cooks, right? You’re very good in a kitchen when you have everything you need; very good even when you don’t. And you’ve had some experience with catering and that in the café—”
Estelle tried not to bite her lip. “Actually, I’m going to train to be a pilot.”
Marc tutted, but said nothing. He raised the newspaper that had been resting on his lap, flexed it and disappeared back behind the pages.
“A pilot?” Marie said, sounding a little surprised.
“Yes, Mum.”
“Flying…?”
Estelle could tell from the searching tone in her mother’s voice that she was hoping for the least dangerous option out of all that might be on offer, holding out that her daughter would say something like logistics or personnel transport, something that would keep her close to home and far from danger. “Starfighters,” Estelle said.
“Oh. Oh, okay,” was all her mother said. She sounded disappointed. There wasn’t a sound from Marc, not even the rustle of pages. Marie’s focus then shifted from Estelle. “Jed, what about you?”
Estelle looked to her brother, who had stood silently by her side. He was quite a bit taller than herself, as was their father to their mother, and also older than her by a couple of years. Regardless, he always listened to his younger sister, a little like how their father always listened to their mother. It was obvious to Estelle from whom she had inherited most of her genes.
“I’m going to train with the regular army,” Jed said. “The Confederate Mobile Infantry,” he added.
Once more, there was no comment from their father, but this time Estelle could tell that, behind the newspaper, he had turned his head to meet Marie’s gaze.
“But … why are you doing this?” her mother said. “I know times are tough and everyone is pretty hard up, things the way they are, worse than ever before, but you can’t expect money and success to drop into your laps overnight. It can take years, very often does. A lot of the time it doesn’t, and people just have to get on with the lives they’ve been dealt. And besides, you’re both still young. Give things a chance.”
Estelle let the sigh out. “I’m eighteen, Mum; going on nineteen. I left school at sixteen and have spent almost the last three years working in cafés and filling in as an office temp for people on extended sick and maternity leave. And more often than not, I’m only there for two or three months at m
ost.”
“But at least, as your father says, it’s a job. You’re making money. It might not be a lot, and it might not be glamorous, but at least you’ve got that. And at some point, one of those offices is going to recognise your skills and offer you a full-time post.”
“Filers and data entry clerks don’t generally get recognition for their devotion to a company,” Estelle muttered sourly.
“And your brother gets on fine as a mechanic down town,” Marie said, ignoring her muttering. “You’re doing okay in that job, aren’t you?”
Jed shuffled his feet. “Actually, Mum, I lost that job two weeks ago.”
“What?” Marie was aghast. Marc’s newspaper came back down.
“I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to worry.”
“How did you manage to lose your job?” Marc said, scowling.
“Because I’m crap at it, Dad!” Jed blurted out, looking quite upset at his own admission. “I break more stuff than I can actually fix and I always need someone to help me. In the end, they brought in someone to replace me, because they said I was too much of a liability.”
Marc sighed. He looked as though he didn’t know what to say. He turned a disappointed face to Marie and shook his head.
“So, yes, we’re joining the armed forces,” Estelle concluded. “As well as basic training, we also get to pick up new, transferable skills—”
“I might actually have a chance to learn some proper mechanics,” Jed added, in a low voice. “Then I can go back and show that lot how it’s really done.”
“— and if we choose to go in there full-time, then we get our own accommodation, as well as tax breaks and discounts on pretty much anything we buy. And don’t forget, it pays quite well, too,” Estelle added.
The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy) Page 54