Epic: Book 03 - Hero (60 page)

The messenger said nothing.

“
Antipov,” Thoor said, “take the Third and rescue Saretok from humiliation. Tell him we will shave his head as punishment. I will mount his mohawk on my wall.”

Marusich stared at Thoor in disbelief. “Will you
allow
this, general? Remington has gone against your will!”

“
That is what he does. That is why I sought him out. A lion cannot be kept on a leash. I want a predator, not a pet.” The general walked to the Noboat, running his hand along its hull. “The perception of freedom is stronger than any chain. Let him think he has defied me and escaped unpunished. That will only make him more effective.”

“
General, what other man would you let get away with this? He grows more brazen by the day. First he takes prisoners from the Walls of Mourning, and now
this
?”

“
What other man has brought me a Noboat with a functional crystal?” After posing the question, Thoor turned around. “Or given me a necrilid hatchery as a gift?”

“
It is favoritism just the same!” Marusich shouted, challenging the Terror. “The fact that he is a commander at all is absurd. Remington has not been a soldier for nine months. No other man has been given so much so quickly.”

Thoor answered matter-of-factly, “Remington is a leader, and leaders should be put in a position to lead. That is why he is a commander now, and that is why he will be a captain when he returns, should he survive. His actions today, defiant or not, are exactly why I chose him. I require no one else’s approval.” He turned to the messenger. “Monitor the situation, and inform me of the Fourteenth’s progress.”

“
Yes, general.” With those words the slayer turned and left. Only after he’d exited the hangar did conversation resume.

“
What will you do with Brunner?” asked Antipov. “And the Australians?”

“
Nothing,” Thoor answered. “Any punishment she or they receive will cause Remington to hesitate in the future. Hesitation is an unacceptable fault.” His face grew sterner as he turned to find Marusich. “Find the sentry who allowed Brunner to leave, and execute him. Resourcefulness is valuable. Carelessness is not.”

“
Yes, general.”

“
And mind your tone when you challenge me in the future. I chose
you
for your vehemence—not your tongue.”

“
As you wish, general.”

Thoor turned to Antipov again. “Exercise patience in your retrieval of Saretok. Let him know that he failed.”

After an exchange of Nightman salutes, Antipov and Marusich left the general’s presence. Turning back around to the Noboat, Thoor ran his fingers over its metallic surface. A trace of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.

* * *

Becan dropped back as a plasma bolt crashed against his cover. He looked at Svetlana from inside the wrecked Vulture. “I migh’ need yeh up here!”

The medic was working frantically on the injured young soldier. Several meters away, the older man she’d abandoned began to moan in half-conscious agony. Svetlana continued to operate, her hands bloody but steady.

“
Sveta, did yeh hear me?”

“
Stay alive,” she whispered to the boy. “Please stay alive.”

The Bakma were on the verge of storming them; Becan couldn’t hold them at bay for much longer.

All of a sudden, the sky above the Irishman roared. He hunched down and peered up to see the
Pariah
hovering overhead. Its frontal cannon opened fire.

Becan fired again. “Travis, can yeh lift us ou’ o’ here?”

“
On my way down—whoa!”

A plasma missile shrieked past. The
Pariah
swished through the air. “Check that,” Travis answered. “Apparently they’re saving those for me.”

“
Bollocks.”

Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, Becan saw a distant human-sized movement, dark and awkward. When he turned to focus on it, his face fell with shock.

“
Auric!”

The German was stumbling to his feet in the open snow. With one hand, he wildly fired his assault rifle, while his other hand swayed to keep balance.

Becan burst from the Vulture, kicking up snow as he ran toward the soldier. Auric met him on wobbly feet. Once again, the
Pariah
swooped past, providing just enough cover for the two men to move. Slinging an arm under Auric’s shoulder, Becan struggled to rush him back to the wreckage.

There was no time for Becan to ask questions or even ease the slayer down. The Irishman threw Auric aside and returned to the defense.

Auric rolled on the ground. The right side of his helmet had been decimated by gunfire; in its place, from the back of his head to his cheek, was a mess of burnt flesh. Half of his right ear was gone. He tried to stand up but failed.

The dog Flopper slid clumsily in the
Pariah
‘s troop bay, his four paws digging out each time the ship veered, and each time slamming against a wall. Travis pushed forward on the stick, sending the transport strafing across the Bakma front. Plasma bolts crashed against the ship’s hull.

“
Boris, what’s it looking like down there?”

“
We found one survivor. She couldn’t save him.”

“
Come on, Varya,” Travis whispered off-comm.

“
We are on our way to the other Vulture.”

Below, on the ground, Nicolai and Derrick held cover for Varvara and Boris. The second crashed Forty-second Vulture—the one with actively firing survivors—was a short run away. The moment Varvara and Boris ran, every survivor from the Forty-second held suppression to aid them. Varvara ducked her head and dashed into the wrecked ship with Boris on her heels.

An officer addressed her immediately. Half his armor was gone, and he was bleeding from multiple wounds. He was battle-ready nonetheless. “We have four wounded, one of them critical. What is your name?”

“
Varvara Yudina.”

He showed her the injured. “We will protect you, Varvara. Thank you.”

”’
Thank you?’”

“
You are saving our lives.”

Varvara stared at him as he moved away. The blood from the man she hadn’t saved was still on her hands. She stared at the new batch of wounded. The three less injured men were watching her; the critical one was incoherent.

“
Help me, God,” she whispered. “Help me do this.” Swallowing hard, she opened her kit.

In the cruiser, Max, David, and William had little trouble slashing through the initial front line of Bakma. They’d blindsided the extraterrestrials with a barrage of bullets and hand cannon blasts. They were on the verge of reaching Torban, their medical contact with the Forty-second.

They were about to breach the first open section of the Cruiser, a large circular room known as a silo. The two-level room held stations ranging from navigational controls to tactical operations. It was like a separate bridge. Every station was gigantic—every console larger than humans could comfortably operate. The floors were a mud-colored brown; the walls were barely brighter. Typically, the room held many Ceratopians, but it was empty now.

“
Three hallways ahead,” Max commanded, “at ten o’clock, twelve o’clock, and two. Torban’s down two. Harb, stick with AP.”

William reloaded his armor-piercing rounds.

“
I hear neutron,” said David.

Max adjusted his comm. “Torban, we’re coming at you from the silo. Don’t shoot us.”

Torban’s affirmation was barely audible.

“
Get ready,” Max said. David and William positioned their guns. “Go!”

The three men burst into the silo. It was empty, but the hallways were not. The twelve o’clock hall resonated with plasma and neutron. Projectile fire came from the two o’clock.

Max waved off the inter-species clash. “Let ‘em fight—we gotta get Torban.” The three men jetted down the two o’clock hall.

It took one turn to find human operatives—a man and a woman. Both were hunkered down, protecting the corner Max’s team appeared around, their E-35s at the ready. When they saw the men from the Fourteenth, they relaxed their stances.

“
Where’s Torban?” asked Max.

The female operative motioned around the corner in the direction of a projectile-neutron exchange.

Max saw Torban when he rounded the corner. Four men lay unconscious around him, all of whom Torban was working on. “You
are
here!” Torban cried in relief.

“
Who’s your gunner down there fighting the lizards?” Max asked, pointing further ahead in the direction of the active exchange.

“
Gritsenko. He is alone. We had no one else to spare.”

“
Harb, go help him.”

The demolitionist swept past them and ran down the hall.

Max motioned to the wounded. “Can they be moved?”

“
Yes, if it is clear on the way out.”

Max turned to the two other operatives—the man and the woman—who were watching the corridor. “The silo is clear, but we’ve got Bakma and Ceratopians down one of the halls. If I can steal one of your soldiers, we can secure the exit hall.”

Torban pointed. “Gavrilyuk, go.” The female soldier rose to her feet.

Max detached his technical kit from his belt, swapping it for extra ammunition instead. The kit was abandoned on the floor. “Dave, check on Harb and see if he needs help. If he doesn’t, come back in the silo.”

“
Right.”

Max shouldered his assault rifle and tracked down the hall. “C’mon, Gobbledygook, you’re with me.”

The female soldier stared at him from behind. “Gavrilyuk.”

“
Whatever.”

Farther down the hallway, William and the lone soldier from the Forty-second—an older man named Gritsenko—were in the midst of a firefight with Ceratopians. The two men had taken position where the hallway opened into a living quarters, where numerous Ceratopians were firing their neutron blasters. A dead canrassi, riddled from head to toe with bullet holes, lay sprawled in the center of the hall. The operatives ducked in and out of an adjacent cleansing room, using it as cover while they fired down the hall. William had already dropped one Ceratopian, doing considerably more damage than his less heavily armed comrade. Readying his hand cannon with another set of rounds, he prepared to lean out again.

“
Will,” David said through the comm, “I’m coming toward you from behind.” Moments later, David appeared. “How’s it looking?”

William leaned out, launching an armor-piercing round into the living quarters. It blew apart a Ceratopian’s head. “Nothin’ like a little fun ‘n’ gunnin’!”

“
Can you hold this?”

“
Gritty and I got it down,” William said. Gritsenko glanced at him.

David nodded. “We’re going to secure the silo and start ferrying out the injured. Don’t let them press in.”

Gritsenko leaned into the open and fired a volley. His bullets hammered down the hall but failed to find flesh.

“
Take off, man,” William said to David.

“
If you need help…”

“
I’ll call.”

David slapped William on the back then turned up the hall.

Max and Gavrilyuk had fortified the twelve o’clock hall in the silo, where the exchange of plasma and neutron was taking place. In the midst of a momentary lull, Max got on his comm. “Travis, where are you?”

“
Holding cover for Sveta. What do you need?”

Max looked at the two o’clock hallway as David emerged. “Can you pick up some wounded?”

“
No way, man. I gotta stay by Becan, he’s holding fort by himself.”

“
Veck.”

“
Necrilids!” David screamed behind Max.

Max and Gavrilyuk spun around. Out of the ten o’clock hallway, a pair of necrilids bounded into the silo. All three operatives opened fire. The creatures were gunned down just before they had time to strike.

Without warning, while the three operatives were trained on the necrilids, smooth doors slid down to cover the three main hall entrances. Every hallway in the silo was suddenly sealed off.

Max ripped off his helmet. “No, no,
no
!”

“
What the hell is this? This thing had
power
?” David slapped his palms against one of the sealed doors.

Gavrilyuk was already on her comm. “Aleksi! The silo doors came down!”

Torban answered immediately. “We know! They came down all over the ship!”

“
All over the
ship
?” Max jumped back on the comm. “Harb, where are you?”

A short burst of static ensued before William answered. “What the hell just happened? We just got cut off!”

“
Max,” David asked, “can you take control of the ship? Crack into their system?”

“
To an extent.” Max lowered his gun. “But it’ll take me a few minutes—” he stopped. His hand froze over his tool belt, where there had been a technician’s kit minutes before. Where there was now an extra cache of ammunition instead.

David’s face sank.

“
Freakin’ hell!”
Max screamed.