Epic: Book 03 - Hero (58 page)

“
Do we know who’s where?”

“
I’ve had brief contact with Captain Tkachenok of the Fifty-first,” answered Travis. “He has two teams at opposite ends of the Battleship. Both teams are cut off from each other. As far as the Forty-second, I’ve only been able to reach one small team in the Cruiser. Talked to a guy named Torban—he’s a medic. He said he’s got heavily wounded.”

“
What are we looking at?” Max asked.

Every crew member looked to Scott for direction—both EDEN and Nightman. He stepped back in the troop bay. “I’d love to give you all a rousing speech, but the Fifty-first and Forty-second don’t have time. We need to be perfect.” He pointed to the map. “We have
six
locations that require immediate attention—four Vultures and two Ceratopian ships.”

As Scott spoke, Dostoevsky watched, his emotions hidden behind his helmet.

“
Sveta,” Scott continued, “your responsibility will be to treat the wounded in these two Vultures,” he pointed to the southernmost pair of transports, the ones belonging to the Forty-second by the Cruiser. “We have to assume they’ll have the heaviest wounded.”

Svetlana acknowledged.

“
Becan and Auric, you’re in charge of keeping her safe. Secure the crash sites, hold off the Bakma, and let her do her job.”

Scott turned to Varvara. “You’re in charge of the Fifty-first,
directly
between the Noboats and the Battleship. Nicolai and Derrick will go with you. Are you okay to go?” he asked the still-wounded Derrick.

Derrick hobbled to his feet. “Just prop me up and gimme a gun.”

“
I will go too,” said Boris. The technician climbed from the cockpit and removed his handgun from his belt. “Four is better than three, yes?”

Scott didn’t have time to feel moved. He sought out Max. “You’re taking the Cruiser. Your contact is Torban, he’s a medic with the Forty-second. He’s got heavy casualties.”

“
Like a day in the park,” Max grimaced.

“
Take William and David with you. The rest of us will take the Battleship. Captain Dostoevsky…”

All eyes turned to Dostoevsky.

“
Captain Tkachenok is trapped in the front of the Battleship. I don’t know how many he has with him. Can you reach him with Egor and Viktor?”

Dostoevsky nodded.

It was set. Svetlana had the Vultures from the Forty-second. Varvara had the ones from the Fifty-first. Max would handle the Cruiser, and Dostoevsky would take the front half of the Battleship to find Captain Tkachenok. Everyone had their tasks. Almost.

“
Esther,” Scott said. The EDEN scout sat erect. “You and I will hit the back of the Battleship alone. There’s a team pinned inside by the two eastern Noboats. This is more than two people can handle alone—I need us both to be more.”

She gripped her pistol.

“
We’re making our approach!” Travis cried.

Moving through the troop bay, Scott leaned into the cockpit again.

The battlefield came into view.

* * *

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Tanneken lifted her eyes from her newspaper. She watched her door through a pair of small spectacles.

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!

Removing her glasses, she placed them on the top of her nightstand. She wasn’t in uniform; she wore a simple white tank top and black pants, her brown pigtails hanging over her shoulders. She rose and opened the door to find a small crowd gathered in the hall. She blinked in surprise.

“
Tanneken Brunner?”

“
That is me…”

“
I’m Rex Gabriel. We need to talk.”

* * *

The
Pariah
nosed down as the warzone appeared. Visible on the ground, the Noboats provided a striking contrast to the endless white snowscape. They surrounded the Ceratopian vessels, neither of which seemed irreparably damaged. The Vultures were also in sight. A barrage of plasma and projectile flew back and forth on the ground.

“
Survivors,” Travis said, pointing to the E-35 gunfire on the ground, “from the Fifty-first.”

In the center of the battle, the Vultures belonging to the Fifty-first were being attacked from the west, where three of the Noboats had landed.

Scott whipped around. “Varya, get ready!”

“
How do you want to do this?” Travis asked.

“
Descend near the southernmost Vulture.” No one was shooting from it, which meant no one was in condition to defend it—if anyone was alive at all. “Suppress the Bakma with cannon fire.”

Nicolai, Derrick, and Boris moved to the door. Varvara was right behind them. She exchanged a fleeting glance with Viktor as she passed him.

“
Everyone, hold on,” Travis commanded. Every operative clutched the handrails as the pilot yanked the controls. The
Pariah
‘s nose was slung 180 degrees to face the oncoming Bakma. Momentum carried it over the Vulture crash site.

Travis opened fire.
“Go! Go! Go!”

Bakma scrambled in every direction on the ground, diving to avoid cannon fire. An entire row of aliens was mowed down.

Nicolai and Boris hit the snow first. Moments later, Derrick tumbled out. Varvara was the last to drop down.

Travis saw the white gleam the moment it launched. It came from one of the Noboats.
“Plasma missile!”
He yanked back the stick and the
Pariah
‘s nose lurched straight up. The operatives flew off their feet.

The
Pariah
rode the air like a wave, violently leveling off once the missile hissed past.

“
Heading to the Forty-second!” Travis jerked the Vulture southward, and its thrusters propelled it ahead.

Varvara and her defenders took position behind the southernmost wreckage. Smoke rose in black plumes from the hull; the troop bay had been blown into pieces.

Varvara waded through the debris. “Boris,” she called out, “help me look!”

Nicolai and Derrick took cover behind one of the wings that was sticking out of the snow like a shark’s fin. Nicolai’s aim, more careful and precise than Derrick’s, panned from Bakma to Bakma like a sniper. With every shot he fired, an alien fell. Ducking back, he adjusted his comm. “Fifty-first unit, what is your condition?”

The northernmost Vulture replied, “There are six of us here. I and another are unhurt. Four are wounded, one is critical.”

“
Understood.”

Derrick was crouched awkwardly on the snow. It was the only way he could function with a bad leg. Pivoting around the corner of the wing, he gritted his teeth and fired.

Back in the
Pariah
, Travis yelled, “Coming down by the Forty-second!”

Becan and Auric readied their assault rifles as Svetlana took her place behind them. The ship lowered to the snow, and they leapt out. The moment they landed, plasma bolts attacked them from both directions—the Noboats and the Cruiser. Becan and Auric suppressed them while Svetlana ran for the Forty-second’s northern wreckage.

The first thing Svetlana noticed were Bakma footprints in the snow, running past the fallen Vulture en route to the Ceratopian vessel. The aliens had already been there. Of the EDEN bodies everywhere, half were riddled with plasma.

Becan and Auric pressed against the wreckage’s interior hull, leaning around the corners to take outside shots. Becan focused on the Bakma coming out of the Noboats, while Auric targeted the ones by the Cruiser.

“
They are dead,” Svetlana said morosely. “It is too late.”

Svetlana’s voice came over the
Pariah
‘s comm. “The men here were killed by the Bakma. We are moving to the Forty-second’s other Vulture.”

Travis drew the transport to a halt, causing Flopper to slide paws-first through the cockpit door. “I’ll hold off the ones in the Cruiser, Sveta. Make your run.” The pilot pressed the trigger and the nose cannon erupted once more. Bakma around the Cruiser dashed for cover.

Svetlana watched as the
Pariah
open fire. She firmed her eyes on the other crashed ship.

“
Leg it!” said Becan. He and Auric dashed from the wreckage with Svetlana behind them. Despite the
Pariah
‘s efforts, plasma bolts trained at their heels. One whizzed by the Irishman’s head; he lost his balance and fell.

Auric slowed and turned back.

“
Keep goin’!” Becan said, scrambling up.

Svetlana was ahead of the pack, running at a full sprint as she fired pistol shots at the Noboats. A flash of white streamed behind her as Auric’s head was ratcheted to the side. A plasma bolt had struck him. He toppled to the snow.

Becan saw it happen. Running full speed, he reached Auric’s body—but stayed only for a second. The side of Auric’s helmet had been completely blown off. His body was sprawled awkwardly like a rag doll tossed to the ground. Becan had seen men like that before: they’d all been dead.

He abandoned the fallen German for Svetlana.

The
Pariah
lowered outside the Cruiser, where the Bakma had moved inside. Max, David, and William hopped out. “Travis, send me a map of this thing!”

“
Sending!”

Moments later, Max had his request. His visor’s field of view was replaced with layout of the alien ship.

Cruisers paled in comparison with Battleships, but they were still four times the size of Noboats. All Ceratopian vessels bore bumpy appearances, with exterior sections bulging like abscesses. Despite the damage to the vessel, it had managed to land decently.

A blue dot pulsated where Torban, the trapped medic, was supposedly located. It was a straightforward route. All Max needed to do was take the first hall to the ship’s silo. From there, they could get to Torban’s team.

Becan’s voice came over the comm. “Auric’s dead.”

Max turned back to the
Pariah
to find Scott. Scott was already staring at him. After a moment of silence, Scott spoke. “Let’s make sure he’s the only one we lose.”

* * *

Gabriel’s team rushed into
Novosibirsk
‘s hangar. None of them wore combat armor—none had any there. The Australian captain scanned the hangar until he spotted a Vulture in the back. “That’s the one she said we could take.” He avoided the sentries’ penetrating stares.

Seth Camm, Gabriel’s pilot, hurried to keep up. “I need two minutes, sir.”

The sentries intercepted them. “Halt.” Gabriel stopped in his tracks. “You are not authorized to be here. Return to your guest quarters.”

“
Apologies, mate,” Gabriel said staunchly. “We need to get to that Vulture.”

The sentries aimed their assault rifles. “Negative. Return to your quarters.”

Before Gabriel could argue, a voice from behind cut him off. “You must let them through.”

The sentries and the Pelican Squadders turned. It was Tanneken—all five feet of her. Two other men, one of them large, followed behind. Gabriel blinked in genuine surprise.

The sentry turned to Tanneken. “Explain.”

“
General Thoor has ordered us to take them back to
Sydney
,” she said, pointing to the Australians. “He does not wish to wait for a civilian airbus.”

The sentry pointed his assault rifle at her. “Those orders were not sent here. You will return to your—”

Tanneken snatched the barrel of the sentry’s rifle, shoving it away and causing him to flinch. “Get that thing out of my face.” She stood on her toes and leaned close to confront him. “Do you think I
enjoy
this, you fool? Do you think I would not rather go on missions than be your pitiful leader’s errand girl?”

“
I—”

“
I am talking, and
you
are listening. If you do not let us through, I will report you to General Thoor, and it will be
your
severed head on a stick. You did not get the order? I do not care.
I
was given the order, and if you do not move, I will bust you in your head and
then
report you. You can take both disgraces to your grave.”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow.

After exchanging a hesitant look with his partner, the sentry stepped back and motioned her through.

“
Thank you,” she spat, then glared at Gabriel’s crew. “Why are you still standing here?
Move
!”

The Australians hurried away.

Tanneken watched them walk ahead. Placing her hands on her hips, she exhaled a frustrated breath. “I hate beach people.” She and her escorts followed from behind.

The sentries stared as she marched off. Then, very quietly, the one who’d remained out of the conversation snickered under his breath.

“
What?” the other sentry asked. “Shut up.”

When Tanneken arrived in the transport, the Pelican’s pilot was already prepping the ship. The rest of the crew was gearing up with generic armor from the lockers.

Gabriel eyed her. “Can’t say I expected
that
.”

Tanneken said nothing.

“
You weren’t supposed to be coming. We only needed your ship.”