The Gate

by Finn Gray

  The Gate

  Book Three of the Aquaria Series

  Finn Gray

  A lost ship. A dying planet. One path to salvation.

  Rory Waring has lost everything. All that is left is the fight, and he is going to take it to the Memnons. But on his way, he must brave the dangers of a lost city and face monsters out of myth as the world falls apart around him.

  Jude Vatcher is desperate to conceal his Memnon connections and make his way safely to his son’s ship. But the battlecruiser Kestrel has mysteriously gone off-course, taking Jude and the Camp Maddux marines with her. With suspicion threatening to tear the ship apart, can the brilliant scientist find the way home before he is exposed?

  Struggling to hold the civilian fleet together, Lina Navarre fights to form a new government, but her twin sister, Valeria, has plans of her own. When an attempt is made on Lina's life, she turns to Dominic Graves and Serena "Sabre" Sabrakami for help. But they soon realize the key to Aquaria’s future survival might lie in her hidden past.

  Deep in the Scarn Nebula, pilot Teddy Zartler and his crew stumble across an abandoned research facility on a giant asteroid. Inside they find skeletal remains that appear human, but their language is alien, their tech confounding. Who are these aliens, what secret does this facility hide, and can they get out alive?

  Battlestar Galactica meets Starship Troopers in this thrilling SciFi adventure series by the USA Today bestselling author!

  The Gate

  Copyright 2020 by Finn Gray

  Published 2020 by GrayFinn

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons and places is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Soria- Hyperion

  Rory opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he was blind—all he could see was gray. Maybe I’m dead. He drew in a breath, felt acrid smoke burn his throat. Something was on fire. And then the memories came creeping back.

  He, Marson, and Oates had infiltrated a Memnon base, seeking a ship and medical help for their squadmates who had been injured when their transport had crashed. The most grievously injured was Jemma, the girl he loved. The trio had discovered a secret lab where the Memnons were conducting research on human subjects in an attempt to develop an anti-radiation therapy that would allow them to survive in a post-nuclear holocaust world. The Memnons had also built a weapon that could destroy the fleet. While Rory and Marson had freed the test subjects and a doctor, Oates had set out to destroy the weapon. Did the smoke mean he had succeeded?

  Rory sat up. He had a splitting headache and his stomach churned. He touched the back of his head and his hand came away sticky with blood. How had that happened?

  “I was on the shuttle, and then I saw…” He closed his eyes, a wave of pain flooding his skull. He could not remember. Whatever he had seen had obviously caused him to leave the shuttle. Had it gotten away?

  He looked around. It was gone. That was a hopeful sign. Maybe they had gotten to his squad in time. His throat pinched at the thought of Jemma. Gods he hoped she was all right.

  A loud crash rang out at his three o’clock. He snapped his head around, his hands reaching for a weapon. But it was not a Memnon, just a falling chunk of ceiling.

  “Gods, Rory. The hangar is falling apart and you’re sitting here like you’ve been smoking herb.” He staggered to his feet, head swimming. The high-pitched squeal of tearing metal filled his ears. He ran forward, but made it only a few steps before something grabbed him by the foot and he pitched forward, slammed hard to the deck.

  He rolled over and kicked out at his unseen assailant, but there was nothing there. Then he saw what he had tripped on.

  “My rifle!” He snatched it up, finding comfort in its familiar feel, then ran.

  He looked up just as a girder came falling down. He dodged to the left and it missed him by centimeters.

  Hazy daylight beckoned just ahead and he ran for it. Something buzzed past his head and he hit the deck again, just meters outside the falling hangar.

  “Gods, I’m tired of falling on my face,” he grunted as he rolled behind a storage container.

  “You might as well give up,” a gruff voice shouted. “I’ve got you trapped and I won’t miss again.”

  Rory knew that voice.

  “Oates?” His parched throat turned the word into a croak. He tried again. “Oates! Is that you?”

  “Plowboy? Why aren’t you on the gods-damned shuttle with the others?”

  That was a good question, one for which Rory did not have an answer.

  “If I agree to come out, do you promise not to shoot me?”

  There was a long pause, then a chuckle.

  “Smartass. Come on, then.”

  Rory made his slow, painful way out from behind the container and looked around.

  A smoldering crater lay where the weapon called the Nyx had stood. Fires still burned. The forest had grown up nearly to the edge of what had once been a carefully concealed base.

  “Where are you?” he shouted.

  Something moved at the edge of the tree line. A tall, lean man with a weathered face and iron gray hair stepped into view.

  “Oates! Glad to see you’re alive,” Rory said.

  Oates looked him up and down. His brow furrowed. “Son, if you’re an example of what the corps is turning out these days, we are well and truly screwed.”

  “I think we’re way past screwed,” Rory said. “And I took a serious whack to the head.” He gingerly touched the back of his head again. As he headed over to where Oates waited, he glanced again at the crater. It was a smoldering ruin. He remembered the force of the blast. He frowned at Oates. “How in the hells did you manage to get out of that?”

  “The Nyx was bowl shaped.” Oates cupped his liver-spotted hands to illustrate. “The initial blast tipped the damn thing over and it rolled into the woods.” He inclined his head toward where the rolling weapon had smashed a trail through the forest and down the steep slope of Stone Mountain. “I managed to slip out just in time.”

  Rory reached him and held out his hand, then hesitated.

  Oates flinched, but then slowly, he reached out and clasped Rory’s hand. “Good job not being dead,” he muttered, then jerked his hand away.

  Oates had once been a marine. But due to a genetic immunity to the effects of radiation, he had found himself an unwilling subject in the secret experiments at Stone Mountain. There, he had met and fallen in love with Becca Link, a physician at the lab, serving against her wishes. She had helped Oates escape long ago. Today, after years of surviving in the hellish jungles of Soria, he, Rory and Marson had returned the favor. Becca had escaped along with the other captives. At least, Rory hoped they’d escaped.

  Something moved in the forest. Rory caught a flash of silver then spotted a man take aim with a rifle. He tackled Oates to the ground as shots rang out.

  “A Memnon,” he said.

  “I could have guessed. Only one?”

  “I only saw one.”

  Trying to keep behind cover, Rory peered out into the forest to try and spot their assailant. There he was, creeping forward. Rory squeezed off a hasty shot but he missed.

  At the report of Rory’s rifle, the Memnon sprang into the air. He virtually flew, ending up in the crook of a tree five meters above where he stood.

  “He’s definitely enhanced,” Rory said.

  “And stupid. He’s a sitting duck now.” Oates fired a single shot that took the Memnon in the chest. The force of the slug knocked him backward and sent him tumbling to the ground. He struck with a dull thud and lay still.

  “You think there are more?” Rory asked.

  “Let’s not wait around to find out. Come on.” Oates stood and plunged into the forest,
heading downhill at a trot.

  “Where are we going to go?” Rory asked.

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter 2

  Battlecruiser Kestrel

  This was not the first time Hunter had completed a jump while strapped into the cockpit of a Mongoose. It was, however, the first time he had been seated inside a Mongoose while the battlecruiser itself jumped. The feeling was familiar, dizzying, surreal. The world seemed to bend, go out of focus and then return all at once.

  Behind him he heard Jude and Magda Vatcher retch. In the copilot’s seat, Vera was looking queasy.

  “I’m all right,” she said, patting him on the leg in a grandmotherly manner. “That was only my second jump.”

  “That was our first,” Magda Vatcher groaned.

  “And hopefully our last,” Jude added.

  They were parked in the landing bay of the battlecruiser Kestrel. After he and Vera had completed their mission to blow up the Nyx, they had been forced to take refuge on board Kestrel rather than to try and reach Dragonfly. They had barely made it before the fleet jumped away.

  “My gods, what happened to the shuttle?” Vera asked.

  A shuttle carrying imperial marines as well as patients freed from a secret Memnon lab had docked just ahead of them. It hadn’t gone smoothly. Smoke poured from a gaping tear in its hull. She had lost her landing gear and lay on the deck, which meant the main escape hatch would not open. Members of Kestrel’s deck crew, all clad in yellow coveralls, were working to open the auxiliary hatches. Meanwhile, maintenance robots doused the engines with fire-prevention foam.

  “Looks like they’ve got it under control,” Hunter said. “Wonder how soon we’ll be allowed to return to Dragonfly?”

  “We would like to be taken to our son’s ship,” Magda said. Their son, Simon Vatcher, was commander of the battlecruiser Osprey. He was new to the command, young, ambitious, and not entirely to be trusted, in Hunter’s opinion.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Hunter snapped. All he wanted right now was to get back to his ship.

  “I’m sure she’s all right,” Vera said quietly. “She’s the best pilot in the whole fleet.”

  Hunter nodded. The “she” to whom Vera referred was Serena Sabrakami, callsign Sabre. She was a lieutenant, second in-command of Dragonfly’s air wing, and his lover. Theirs was a complicated relationship to say the least. He forced a grin. “One of the best.”

  “If you say so, sir.”

  A voice blared over the comm. “Hunter, this is Kestrel, do you copy?”

  “Roger that, Kestrel.”

  “Your orders are to disembark. You’ll be provided with quarters until Commander Begay can meet with you.”

  Hunter frowned. Why would they need quarters?

  “Acknowledged, Kestrel. When will we be cleared to return to Dragonfly?” Commander Graves owes me a drink.”

  “Owes us,” Vera corrected.

  There was a pause. “We have no timeline as of yet.”

  Hunter shrugged. Kestrel must have sustained significant damage in the battle.

  “Roger that. Be advised that I have Commander Vatcher’s parents on board.”

  Another pause. “Roger that, Hunter. They are to remain with you until further notice.”

  “What are they playing at?” Magda asked. “Tell them we demand to speak with our son.”

  Hunter gritted his teeth. He had saved these people’s asses and already they were trying to order him around.

  Vera turned and arched an eyebrow like a schoolteacher whose student has just said something very foolish. “Ma’am, you don’t give orders to the commander of a battlecruiser on his own ship, especially not in a time of war.”

  “Do you realize to whom you are speaking?” Jude asked.

  Vera nodded. “I’m looking at a couple of formerly rich people who don’t seem to realize that everything that was special about them went up in flames when the Memnons nuked our planets. Now quit your bitching.”

  Jude blinked twice but recovered himself quickly. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to like that. My son will hear of it.”

  “And I don’t appreciate you treating us like servants after we saved your asses from the Memnons.”

  Magda put a hand on Jude’s arm, forestalling his retort. “You are correct, of course. We apologize. It’s been a trying time for all of us.”

  Vera nodded. “Me, too. Now, let’s get the hells out of here. See if they’ve got anything to drink on this bucket of bolts.”

  Hunter nodded. A drink sounded good right about now.

  Jude was in a daze. Vera’s words had struck him like a physical blow. She was not wrong. Even before the first missile fell, he had lost everything, taken in by the Memnons and their promises of a new social order, one in which one’s talent and work ethic meant more than his ancestry. But it had not turned out the way he had anticipated. Not even close.

  He exited the spacecraft as gracefully as he could and offered Magda a hand. As soon as she stepped down onto the deck, she pursed her lips. She could read his struggle in his eyes.

  “Don’t fret,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the chaos. “This truly is a new world, and we can be a part of molding and shaping it if we play our cards right.”

  He flashed a smile. Gods, she was insightful. Now was the time for what remained of Aquarian civilization to begin again. And while they were no longer among the wealthiest in the worlds, neither were they the poorest. No one had any sort of wealth anymore. Which meant people would now rise and fall on their own merits.

  “You are one of the greatest minds in the worlds,” she said as they followed Hunter and Vera through the landing bay. “You and I are famous and well-respected, and our son is one of the most powerful men in the fleet.”

  “You are correct, as always, my dear,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze, relishing the softness of her skin. He was always fascinated by her delicate exterior, so unlike her personality.

  The landing bay was a madhouse. It smelled of smoke, fuel, and fear.

  Passengers were now being removed from the crashed transport. A few were clad in marine uniforms, all were very young. One of them, a girl with red hair, was being stretchered away. Some of the passengers wore hospital gowns, and a few of these also had to be carried away by medics. One passed directly in front of Jude and Magda. The patient lying on the stretcher looked at Jude. Their eyes locked.

  “I know you,” the man rasped. His eyes burned with anger. “You did this to us.”

  Jude’s heart raced. He knew these people had come from the Stone Mountain base on Soria. Jude had visited there only once—shortly before the uprising. Was it possible that the man had recognized him? Surely not. More likely, the man had seen him on television. But what did he mean Jude had done this to them?

  A pair of marines stepped out in front of them.

  “If you’ll follow us, please,” one of them said. He turned on his heel and strode out of the cargo bay. Jude and Magda followed, along with Hunter and the uninjured marines from the transport.

  The marines led them along a series of corridors and into a room lined with bunk beds on two sides. Two doors stood at the far end—one leading to a shower room and toilet facilities, the other to what looked like a recreation room.

  “The water works,” one of the marines said. “We’ll have food for you a soon as possible.”

  “Any idea when we’ll be able to return to our ship?” Hunter asked.

  “No, sir,” the marine said.

  “Are we confined to these quarters?” Jude asked.

  The marine frowned. “Not as far as I know, but seeing how you don’t know your way around the ship, and we’re busy dealing with treating our wounded and making repairs, it’s probably best if you don’t go wandering around.”

  Jude nodded. “Please thank the commander for his hospitality.”

  The marine smirked. “If he ever speaks directly to me, I’ll be sure to do that.”
With that, he closed the door firmly.

  One of the marines, a fair-skinned young man with blond hair and pale blue eyes looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Pilots’ barracks,” Hunter said, flopping down on a bottom bunk. “Not the worst accommodations by battlecruiser standards.”

  “It looks like no one has lived here for a long time.” This from another marine, a brown-skinned young woman.

  “Most battlecruisers have only a small air guard these days,” Hunter said. “Recruitment and funding are way down. We haven’t had a war in a very long time.”

  “Hadn’t had a war,” Vera corrected.

  Silence fell over the group, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Finally, a big marine, a Norwinder judging by his size and fair complexion, spoke up.

  “What do you think happens now?”

  “I imagine they’ll run our IDs, make sure there are no red flags. Vera and I will head back to our ship, these people will join their son, and all of you will be posted to the crew of a battlecruiser.”

  The marine shook his head. “I mean, how are we going to take our planets back from the Memnons?”

  No one spoke.

  Finally, Jude cleared his throat. “Considering the circumstances, I’m not sure our home can be saved.”

  “Which means what?” Magda asked.

  Jude could not believe what he was about to say, but he knew it to be the truth. “We need to find a new one.”

  Chapter 3

  Battlecruiser Dragonfly

  Commander Dominic Graves gazed at the vidscreen. Down below hung the glowing red cloud of the Scarn Nebula, the chosen rendezvous point for the fleet. They had jumped a tremendous distance, but there was no guarantee they were safe.

  “Mr. Cassier, how’s the roll call coming?”

  “Finishing up right now, Commander,” the communications officer replied. “So far, so good.”