“Enough talking,” Adam interrupted, pulling his rifle free from under his jacket. “Get on the ground.”
Cardax continued walking forward and talking, as though he hadn’t heard Adam speak. “But I learned an invaluable lesson as a result of being the Terran’s captive. I learned that loyalty has nothing to do with oaths of allegiance to one side or another. Loyalty, just like everything else in this universe, has a price. You find how much someone charges for their undying loyalty, and even the most devoted soldier will willingly die for your cause. Don’t believe me? Next time you’re with all your friends, ask them how many would continue to serve the Alliance if they no longer received a paycheck. None of you are doing your job because you have some unfailing sense of loyalty to the Alliance. Take away the money, and every one of you would find a new line of work.”
“What’s your point?” Keryn yelled, though Cardax was now only a few dozen feet away.
“My point is that this entire town had a price, and I had a lot of money to spend. My point is that these people appreciate the money I give them and aren’t eager to lose it. My point is that they’re willing to do anything to protect my donations…”
Cardax smiled wickedly, his dark eyes glistening in the dying light. “…even kill your friends guarding your ship.”
“Is someone there?” Penchant called out in a coarse voice. His Lithid eyes, covered by his Uligart disguise, worked like a solar panel, absorbing the dim light and amplified it, allowing him to see well in darkness. Even with his enhancements, however, he didn’t see anyone nearby. In a normal situation, that would be a blessing. Just moments before, though, the entire landing zone had been teeming with life. Now, as though whisked away on the warm Pteraxis breeze, the place was dangerously quiet.
“No one’s there,” McLaughlin said in his thick accent. Sitting on the ground with his back against the Cair Ilmun, the Pilgrim tilted back his hat so he could see the Lithid. “You’re hearing things.”
“Lithids don’t have an active imagination,” Penchant said. The Uligart face he wore wrinkled its forehead as he strained to hear another sound.
“You don’t say?” McLaughlin said sarcastically. Pushing off from the ship, he stood and dusted off the back of his pants. “You’re just on edge, and there’s no reason to be. We’re on guard duty, the absolutely most boring job they could find for the two of us.”
“Something’s wrong,” the Lithid said, turning to stare at McLaughlin with a stern glare. “We should contact the others.”
As Penchant reached toward his throat, the Pilgrim reached out and grabbed his wrist. Though Penchant looked angry, McLaughlin simply shook his head. “If there was trouble, don’t you think we would have heard something by now? We’re close enough that we would have heard gunfire or explosions. Since we didn’t hear anything, then I think you probably need to relax a little more.”
Penchant pulled his wrist free of McLaughlin’s grip and turned the opposite direction. McLaughlin shrugged before rolling his eyes. “Listen, if you’re that’s worried about them, let’s just ask someone if they’ve heard anything from town. That way, we don’t have to bother Keryn with radio chatter if nothing is really going on.” Glancing toward town, McLaughlin smiled. “We’ll just ask one of these people.”
Turning quickly, the Lithid saw figures materializing from the dark shadows cast between the ships. From the angry expressions on their faces, Penchant knew they came with deadly intent. Though the smile never faded from McLaughlin’s face, Penchant noticed that the Pilgrim slid his hand beneath his coat in an innocent gesture, but one that put his pistols easily within reach. A noise behind him alerted Penchant that other crewmen from the various ships had circled around and now had the pair trapped.
“How’s it going, gentlemen?” McLaughlin asked, stepping toward the approaching group. “How about this weather?”
Penchant eyed movement from his right as well, meaning that they were now completely encircled. To his left, the Lithid noted the narrow clearance between the belly of the Cair Ilmun and the ground. Though the space would be an incredibly tight fit for the other races, Penchant’s malleability would enable him to slide easily under the ship. McLaughlin, however, would never be so lucky.
“Anything I can help you with?” McLaughlin asked generally to the crowd as the pair searched for an escape route. “You all don’t seem very talkative. What’s wrong? Seque got your tongue?” The Pilgrim’s voice took on a nervous tone as he continued to speak rapidly. “Whatever your problem, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement, but only if we’re able to talk about it.”
“I’ll talk,” a gruff Terran said as he stepped forward and reached to the pouches clipped to his belt. From within one of the pouches, he pulled a small blue orb. “The Empire sends you a gift!”
As the Terran pulled back his arm to throw, McLaughlin drew his pistols blindingly fast. His first round caught the Terran in the wrist, blasting through both the bones and completely severing the hand. The severed extremity, along with the sphere still clutched in its grasp, disappeared into the darkness as it was flung away from the Terran. Firing his second pistol, the Terran was struck in the chest. The bullet shattered ribs, sending both metal and bone fragments into the soft tissue of the Terran’s heart and lungs. Wordlessly, the would-be assassin clutched at his chest before falling to the ground.
McLaughlin began firing wildly into the crowd, all the while laughing excitedly as he pulled the triggers on his pistols. Penchant, falling into place at his back, drew his own rarely-used pistol and began firing as well, trying to keep McLaughlin from being flanked. Caught entirely by surprise by the ferocity of McLaughlin’s attacks, the crowd began to fall back, scrambling to find cover as round after round cut through their ranks. Soon, however, the mob mentality reasserted itself and they surged forward toward the gunmen.
McLaughlin fell back toward the safety of the Cair Ilmun, as he alternated firing into the advancing crowd and reloading his weapons. Blinded as he was with keeping his enemies at bay, he never noticed the second blue orb rolling across the dirt toward his feet. Penchant, noticing the grenade, yelled a warning before diving under the ship. His Uligart façade melted away as his body elongated and thinned enough that he could fit into the cramped crawl space. McLaughlin, entirely focused on keeping the approaching crewmen at bay, never heard the warning from Penchant and only looked down as a loud pulse of noise that preceded the explosion caught his attention.
As the shockwave lifted him from the ground, the shell of the explosive broke apart and filled the air with deadly metal projectiles. McLaughlin’s head snapped backward from the blast as metal fragments bit into his exposed flesh. Smaller fragments cut into his legs and set his pants and shirt ablaze. His body hair burned away and filled the air around him with an acrid smell. As his body was flung wide, larger fragments of the grenade tore into his right arm. Cutting through the muscle and sinews, the jagged shrapnel ripped free fragments of flesh and bone as it passed through his muscular arm. The bone shattered under the assault as all but a small strip of flesh was obliterated in the blast.
McLaughlin fell to the ground nearly ten feet away from where he had been standing before the explosion. To the amazement of all who were nearby, he let out a scream of pain as his ruined arm landed beneath the weight of his body, the limb held on by little more than strips of worn and burned flesh. Blood gushed from his numerous wounds, soaking immediately into the dry and thirsty ground.
The crewmen close to the incapacitated Pilgrim raised their weapons and stepped toward McLaughlin, ready to end his pain.
On the far side of the Cair Ilmun, unnoticed by the enemies that had surrounded them on the other of the ship, Penchant slid from underneath its belly and growled in anger.
Keryn turned with a start at the loud explosion and jets of flame that lit up the sky from the direction of the flattened landing zone. Turning back furiously toward Cardax, Keryn pulled back the hammer on her pistol as tears stun
g her eyes. Though she already knew the answer, she asked the question anyway.
“What was that? What have you done?”
“That,” Cardax growled sinisterly, “was the beginning of the end for you and your team, little whore. Say goodbye to me now, because mine is the last face you’re ever going to see in this universe.”
“Ambush!” Cerise yelled over the radio as the town seemed to explode to life.
All around Keryn and Adam, doorways opened and shuttered windows flew out wide as armed townsfolk stepped out into the near darkness, their weapons trained on the team members and a murderous look in their eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Iana turned sharply aside as another rocket went streaking past her right wing. The Terran fighters had been chasing her for the better part of half an hour and Iana had not, as of yet, found a way to lose them. She felt the sweat beading on her brow and soaking through her fine, blonde hair. Angrily, she wiped the sweat away and focused on the radar once again. Behind her, ever present, were the three fighters pursuing her in a lazy orbit over the northern continent.
Somewhere far below her battle, Yen and the Cair Thewlis were heading directly for the Terran capital. The plan had been for Iana and her three fighters in Alpha team to provide direct air cover for his ship. Upon arrival, however, even Iana had been surprised by the scope of the Terran space defenses. Improvised Terran warships offered little more than a dangerous distraction while the true Terran fighters provided the deadly firepower about which Iana was worried. Destroying the fighters before they had a chance to engage the Cair transports became her overarching concern, meaning that Yen was now flying solo as he skimmed the ocean’s surface.
Warning sirens roared through the confines of the cockpit as the Terran fighters launched another salvo of plasma rockets. Tilting to the right, Iana dropped her ship into a roll and sighed in relief as she watched the smoky trails of the missiles pass dangerously close. Her relaxation, however, was short lived as her radio began to chime.
Reaching forward, she answered the radio just in time to hear Yen’s angry voice. “Alpha Leader, this is Commander Xiao. If you’re not too busy up there, we could really use some of that air superiority we’ve heard so much about!”
Iana sighed in frustration. “This is Alpha Leader. No, sir, of course we have nothing important going on up here. Just relaxing and having the time of our lives. Hell, when you boys get done down there, feel free to come join us. We’re getting ready to fire up the blender to make some cocktails.”
“Can the chatter, Alpha Leader, and get me some air support!”
Knowing Yen couldn’t see her, she still shook her head in irritation. Though her mission priority was still to protect the Cair Thewlis, she hardly had the resources to defend against the pressing Terran assault, much less split her assets to assist Yen. In the end, however she knew that only one priority truly mattered.
“Roger, sir,” Iana called back. “I’m breaking away two Duun fighters to your position now.”
Switching channels, she called out to her other pilots. “Alpha Three and Alpha Four. Break formation and provide cover fire for the Cair force. Once you’ve done sufficient damage on the surface, get back up here and give us a hand.”
“Roger that, ma’am,” Alpha Three replied.
Iana watched with regret as two of her four Duun fighters disengaged from their battle and dipped into the atmosphere, their hulls glowing hot as they passed through the friction-heavy upper layer. Sighing, she knew that she and Alpha Two were now entirely on their own.
Glancing through her forward window, Iana located Alpha Two from amidst the combination of wreckage, debris, and still flying craft. The space above Earth seemed like a long-forgotten graveyard, a place where old ships went to die. Iana frowned at the reference, realizing that this area was now also a place where old pilots went to die as well. Alpha Two seemed engaged with a small Squadron of the makeshift Terran ships and, though she was holding her own, Iana could use her help.
“Alpha Two, this is Alpha Leader.”
“Go ahead, ma’am,” Alpha Two’s musical Avalon voice replied.
Iana smiled to herself in the cockpit. “How familiar are you with a criss-cross?”
After a brief pause, Alpha Two responded. “I’m not familiar with the name, but I’m pretty sure I know what you have in mind.”
“Good,” Iana replied. “Then on my mark. Three…two…one… mark!”
Iana pressed forward on the controls, dropping her Duun fighter into a steep dive directly toward Earth’s surface. Simultaneously, her Avalon counterpart pitched upward, the two ships on a collision course. Iana felt her heart pound in her chest as she checked the radar. As she had assumed, the Terran fighters had maneuvered to match her new trajectory. Still firing, they were only slightly further behind now than they had been moments before. Through the forward window, Iana watched as the improvised fighters chased Alpha Two, their weapons ports now facing Iana front-on. Gritting her teeth, she accelerated. Even with the inhibitors lessening the pressure on her body, Iana still felt the gravitational forces began pressing on her limbs. Her chest feeling like a weight pressing on her lungs, she managed a few hitched breaths as she tried to open a gap between her Duun fighter and the Terrans in pursuit.
Flicking the controls, Iana caused the nose of her fighter to tilt slightly upward. Though it was hard to tell from her current position, she hoped that the Avalon noticed the gesture. If not, their cross was going to end in a bloody mess. As the miles disappeared between the ships, Iana eased up on the accelerator. Her slowing ship became a prime target for the Terran fighters in pursuit and they pounced, eager for the kill. Blinded by their desire for the kill, they failed to notice Alpha Two close the rest of the gap. At the last moment, Iana turned her controls upward just as the other Duun fighter dipped low. Iana could feel the buffet as the other ship passed within a few feet from the bottom of her Duun, the blast from her engine rocking Iana in the cockpit.
Behind her, the Terrans were completely surprised when a second Duun fighter launched toward them, missiles already leaping from their launchers under the ship’s wings. Trying to dodge, only one of the Terran fighters was able to avoid the plasma barrage. The other two were struck in the cockpits, their glass shattering as the rocket penetrated the windows and exploded on top of the pilots. The blue and purple flames consumed the two ships as they silently exploded in the void of space. Wasting no time admiring the explosion, Alpha Two turned sharply in pursuit of the third fighter.
Iana smashed through the center of the improvised fighters, sending the weaker ships scattering in all directions. Firing her machine guns haphazardly, bright tracer rounds filled the dark space as the bullets slammed into the reinforced hulls of the ships. Finding the cracks in between the hastily armored ships, Iana’s bullets bit deep into the crafts, tearing open their bellies and spewing forth their precious oxygen.
Though she had only destroyed three of the ten improvised fighters, Iana barely slowed as she turned in a wide arc, angling back toward the powerless satellite grid. Pushing forward on the accelerator, she quickly distanced herself from the slower moving improvised aircraft the Terrans had created as a defense for Earth. Though still capable of destroying her Duun fighter with their plasma rockets, they lacked the sophistication and advanced computer targeting systems that were standard on the Terran fighters. As a result, Iana found herself merely avoiding the improvised ships; brushing them off as though they were little more than an insect while she bought herself time. Her salvation came moments later when Alpha Two cut a swath through their formation, destroying another pair of their ships. Turning sharply, Iana rejoined the battle, leaving the remaining five ships decimated from a combination of gunfire and rocket explosions.
With their sector temporarily cleared, Iana leaned back heavily in the pilot’s chair and, reaching up, rubbed her eyes feverishly with the back of her hand. She could feel the dull ache growing behind her ey
es, as the tension built in her body. It had only been an hour since they warped into Earth’s orbit and still an hour until the rest of the Fleet arrived, but they had been fighting the entire time. The current break in combat was the first reprieve she had truly earned since their initial invasion.
With her eyes still closed, she brushed her hair aside and activated the microphone at her throat. “Alpha Three, this is Alpha Leader. Give me a status report.”
The response was filled with static as the transmission passed through Earth’s thick atmosphere. “The Cair Thewlis has safely landed at the capital. We are on our way back to your location.”
“Roger that,” Iana said wearily. “You have temporarily clear skies.”
Sighing, Iana ran her own words through her mind: temporarily clear skies. Somehow, the Terrans continued to send ships out to intercept the invasion Squadron. Every time her pilots decimated the latest wave of enemy vessels, another launched from a different position on the planet’s surface and the battle began anew. So far, they had been lucky. Iana didn’t believe it was anything more than luck that had kept her and the majority of her pilots alive over the past hour. But she was losing more and more fighters each time the Terrans counterattacked. At the rate they were going, the Terrans would win a war of attrition after simply waiting for all the Alliance ships to make a mistake and be destroyed. Honestly, Iana had no reason to assume the results would be any different than just that. A small Squadron of Alliance Duun fighters and Cair transports had invaded the Terran home world. Even without their Fleet, the Terrans had vastly superior military numbers at their disposal. Iana frowned, having trouble believing that she ever thought this attack was a good idea.
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