Terra Prime (The Terran Legacy Book 2)

by Rob Dearsley

  He pulled himself hand over hand through the ship. The lights flickered again, as the ship took more damage.

  He was almost to the escape pod when the Shadow-form ripped through the bulkhead and crashed into him in a wash of torn metal and freezing cold darkness.

  A piece of jagged bulkhead scythed across his forehead, turning his vision red. He tasted the coppery tang of blood and the Darkness hit him again knocking him into the middle of the intersection, away from any form of purchase.

  Craning his neck, he could see the open door of the escape pod, the blinking lights within calling to him, welcoming him. So close.

  He kicked his legs, trying to get some momentum. He’d never been good at the zero force manoeuvres. Damn, he should have at least made an effort when Luc tried to teach him.

  The creature, it didn’t even look humanoid, lashed out with whip-like arms.

  Dannage scrabbled for something, anything. His hand closed around the grip of his oversized handgun. It was worth a shot; it was his last chance.

  He aimed and fired. The bullet struck the bulkhead beside the creature, a clean miss, but that didn’t matter. The kick from the gun sent Dannage shooting backwards, and into the escape pod.

  He caught the launch control on the way past. The hatch slammed down, cutting him off from the creature and from Loki.

  He’d made it. The rush of acceleration slammed him back against the hatch. Then they were out in space.

  Dannage crawled forward to peer out of the small escape pod. The Feynman was breaking apart, her three main hulls spinning away from the engine module. He could even see the blunt arrowhead of the Folly clamped against the side of the larger ship, limpet-like. His home, his family. Safe and waiting for him.

  He lost sight of them as the escape pod curved toward the small docking port. He was going to make it. He was going home.

  The world shattered, reality splintering apart around Dannage.

  They’d jumped.

  Thirty

  (Liberty Station, Nowhere)

  Arland sat on the foot of an SDF troop transport looking out over the tattered remains of the Feynman. The older model static field gave the long tube of framework and gantries with the engine module on the end, a slight orange hue. Even the single section of the SDF super-cruiser dwarfed the Nowhere light frigates that held station around the Feynman.

  Arland hadn’t been able to sleep yet. She’d lost track of how long she’d been awake. Maybe thirty hours or so? And she’d been running on adrenaline for most of it. Now, she just felt beyond tired. Perceiving the world through a film of cotton wool, not really feeling anything beyond that whole-body ache.

  She was happy not to feel for now. Dannage was gone. He’d broken his promise, not made it back before they’d jumped. Stars, she missed him, the loss cut through the fuzziness of fatigue.

  Fighters and shuttles flitted between and around the capital ship. The Nowhere government had seized the Feynman as soon as they’d jumped back. Battle weary and still disoriented from the jump, they’d been in no position to stop them. And as far as Arland was concerned, they were welcome to the ship. Between the computer virus and the battle damage, there was nothing of value within that empty husk anyway.

  While Niels had agreed with her assessment, the Systems’ Government was contesting it on principle as much as anything else. It was petulance, pure and simple.

  Whatever it was, they’d tied Niels and Jenna up in meetings for twenty of the last twenty-three hours. Their only concession, a couple of hours sleep after the elderly Admiral had collapsed, exhausted.

  “Arland?” Hutch moved to stand beside her, a quick glance showed him cleaned up and in a fresh uniform. He’d even gotten a replacement prosthetic arm. “Been looking for you.”

  “Been here,” she said, turning her attention back to the view. It wasn’t like, if she watched and waited long enough, Dannage would appear. “It’s good to see you, Sergeant.”

  He chuckled “Oh, it’s Master Sergeant now.”

  “Seems like every time you get tangled up with us you get a promotion.”

  He returned her tired smile. “Yeah, and it only cost me an arm. Both times.” He exemplified the statement, raising his new synthetic hand and turning it over.

  Arland let out a bark of laughter. Although, it was just noise.

  Hutch placed the hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. He was a good man. Saved my life back at Pyrite.”

  “Getting off the X-Ship was a group effort.” Although, without Dannage they’d never have done it.

  “No, before that. The Montgomery’s hanger deck took a hit. He grabbed me, pulled me to safety.”

  Arland raised her eyebrows. She’d never heard that story before.

  Hutch sat on the shuttle step next to her. “He dropped the damn ship around us. The Folly, that is.”

  Yeah, that sounded like something Dannage would do.

  “He was crazy, but he knew his stuff. If there’s any way out of that system he’ll find it.”

  “Thanks,” Arland said.

  “You look like walking dead. Have you slept?”

  She shook her head. “Couldn’t.” Or just didn’t want to, didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. At the moment, the dull ache of fatigue was preferable to the sharper pangs of grief.

  Hutch turned her around to face him. “Go. Shower, grab some food and get some rack time.”

  He was right. She had to face up to it sometime. She let him push her toward the entrance back into the station.

  She remembered little of the generic looking hallways that she tromped through. Her steps slowed, her limbs becoming increasingly laden.

  “Arland?” Lloyd jogged over.

  “Captain.” She turned to face him, leaning back against the curved wall of the hallway.

  “Please. After everything, you can call me Gareth.” He stopped as he caught sight of her face. “Hells, you look like death.”

  She tried to stifle her smile. “Gee, thanks.” The smile turned into an uncontrollable laugh.

  “Come on, let’s get you to a bed before you drop.”

  She let him lead her off along the hallway, too tired to do anything else. “I thought you were part of the negotiations?”

  “I’ve given my evidence. They don’t need any input from a flyboy. They’re running poor Niels through the wringer though.”

  “How so?” The conversation gave her something to focus on beyond hauling her own dead-weight along.

  “Niels did promise them a boatload of Terran technology. Instead, they got about a quarter of a ship that looks like a war-zone.”

  It made sense. “You did tell them about the darkness?”

  “Yeah, but they don’t see it as an issue. Besides, we destroyed it.”

  “Maybe.” Arland really hoped they had, and that would be the end of it. She could still remember the voice seeping through into her mind. The skin at the back of her neck crawled at the memory.

  “Don’t borrow tomorrow’s worries.” Lloyd stopped her in front of a door.

  “Very philosophical.” Arland yawned.

  “Something my mum says.” He gestured to the door. “This is your guest room. So, here’s another one. Sleep is god. Go worship.”

  He practically pushed her through the door.

  Ignoring the shower, Arland stumbled toward the bed and dropped into it. Stars, she was tired. She curled onto her side and let the bone-deep weariness pull her down into nothingness.

  ◊◊

  Hale sat cross-legged, focusing on her breathing. It was all gone now. They’d jumped before the last fusion missile hit, but she was sure they’d destroyed the system. The last remnants of her home gone. She’d thought she was over the loss. But going back there had brought everything to the surface. Her memories. Her life.

  The Terran Imperium was dead and gone. But their legacy lived on.

  She rose and walked over to the large picture windows. Shuttles and gondolas flitted bet
ween the stations and ships that formed Nowhere.

  A colony in the void, away from starlight. It was something that, even at the height of the Imperium, they’d never tried. Never even considered.

  And, despite all the political wrangling, it was thriving. This was what the Terrans had fought and died for. To see the human race endure and grow.

  Here and now, it felt like the start of something new. Watching this place felt like that first deep breath on a cold morning, putting her wellies on, waiting for her dad.

  Despite everything, she was glad to be a part of it.

  Luc stepped up beside her. “No one thought they’d make it work.”

  “But here they are, bringing light to the darkness.”

  “Light to the darkness,” Lloyd echoed, sauntering to stand on her other side, hands in his pockets. “I like that.”

  After everything they’d seen at Prime – the Darkness – the simple phrase carried more emphasis than it might have otherwise.

  Hale caught reflected movement from behind them in the windows. Arland still looked worn, but better than she had before. She’d exchanged her grubby under-armour for a clean shirt and trousers, her hair still darkened by damp.

  “Feeling better?” Lloyd asked Arland.

  She nodded, her ponytail bobbing. “More human at least.”

  Luc put an arm around Arland and, to Hale’s surprise, she leaned into him.

  Hale looked at their reflections in the picture window. Yes, she’d lost her friends and family, but now she’d found a new one.

  Epilogue

  (Deep Space)

  Dannage shivered. It had been growing steadily colder over the last couple of days. He pulled his coat tighter and shifted against the side of the escape pod, wincing at the pain in his ankle. Even the Terran scale pod became cramped after a week. At least he guessed it was a week, in the perpetual gloom of deep space, time lost all its meaning.

  Eventually, inevitably, his eyes drifted back to the status indicator. A little under a day of breathable air left. The chances of anyone finding him were practically nil. Anyone with half a brain would think he’d died back in Terra Prime.

  Heck, even if they could make it back to the system, he clearly wasn’t there anymore. He had no idea where he was.

  He’d considered pulling the hatch and ending it all. It was better than a slow suffocating death. But he’d never been the suicidal sort. Where there was air, there was hope.

  A dull booming echoed through the compartment.

  Dannage’s head snapped up. What was that? Something attacking him? Debris?

  Another thump reverberated through the pod, followed by a hiss. Hard seal? Someone was docking with the pod. It couldn’t be. Why would they even be out here?

  He lunged across the pod, pressing his face against the small portal.

  Hot damn. The hull of a capital ship, maybe carrier-sized, maybe bigger, curved away from him. He couldn’t make out any livery, and he was too close and at too oblique of an angle to identify the ship. All he could make out were massive, bulky strike plates with heavy guns bristling down the midline. It reminded him of Terran ships.

  Movement caught Dannage’s attention and he shifted to get a better view. A pair of fighters swept toward him. Oddly squat things, with aggressive weapons modules on the sides, and a coms array rising from the back like a scorpion’s tale. They weren’t a type he recognised.

  Looking the other way, he saw a flexible docking tube, snaking away toward a boxy shuttle.

  Who were they? Were they even human? Loki had said there was no other life in the galaxy. But still… He slumped back from the portal. Nothing left to do but wait.

  Dannage started as someone, or something, knocked on the hatch.

  Tap-tap-tap, tap-thud, tap-tap thud-tap, tap. Thud-thud-thud, tap-thud-thud-tap, tap, thud-tap

  Dannage frowned, trying to dredge up memories of tap-codes, but came up with nothing. Nothing for it; he reached out and pulled the release lever for the hatch.

  Michael Dannage, Shauna Arland and the crew of the Folly will be back in…

  Helix Rising

  Thank you for reading. If you want to find out more about what’s coming up, you can follow me on Twitter @Rob_Dearsley, Facebook or on my website www.robdearsley.com. Author contact details and social media links can also be found on my website.

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