Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1) (34 page)

“Walters!” Sarah yelled, throwing the Arinar to the sergeant running at the front, “Move it!”

Sergeant Walters caught the statuette mid-air and dashed without looking back. The stairs were ahead, the daylight shining faintly through the staircase, calling for them, but sand was filling the corridor fast, new trap doors opening in their way as if the tomb was aware of their presence.

Walters reached the stairs first, climbing as fast as he could with the statuette, Samir close behind him. Private Austin and Lieutenant Evans were a few steps back and running madly. The sands filling the hallway roared in Sarah’s ears like a waterfall.

Sarah saw Captain Samir jump to the stairs, coughing violently as he pulled Private Austin up. So far, only Walters, Samir and Austin were outside the tomb. Sarah risked looking back and realized her mistake too late. The sand wave devoured her like the huge mouth of a sea monster. She screamed and then darkness took her over.

***

Sarah’s scream for help halted Samir before he could enjoy the sweet air. He looked down to see the woman pulled into the dune sea and without hesitating, he jumped back into the yellow waters.

“Captain!” Samir heard Walters screaming helplessly behind the two. Then the sands took him over.

The captain came out of the sands almost a minute later, grasping for air, his hard face covered with the yellow clod, “Grab my hand!” He reached for Walters. “Pull!”

Walters dashed to the stairs, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him up with all the strength he could muster but his grip was slipping. “I can’t hold you, Captain!”

“Pull!” the captain howled again.

Walters’ muscles swelled, as if they were about to be torn apart. He was about to let go, no longer able to resist the force of the dune sea when Perkins and Evans rushed beside him, catching the captain by his backpack. Together, they pulled the man free of the sand’s grasp, but he dove right back into the opening and only reflex alerted them to grab his feet.

A few seconds later, Samir pulled another body from the sands. Dust covered Sarah’s face.

“Holy hell, is she alive?” Perkins checked the pulse, “Oh, no…”

“Step aside!” the captain barked, grabbing a water flask from his backpack. He roughly washed Sarah’s face and began mouth-to-mouth. Walters was beside him in a flash, starting chest compressions.

“Stay alive, stay alive…” the sergeant mumbled frantically, his eyes were in tears because of the sans, salty water rolling down his dusty face, creating tiny lines of mud mixing with his now gold-coated beard.

“Come on, Sarah!” Samir continued the artificial breathing. “I order you to wake up!”

After minutes that felt like eternity, they finally gave up. Samir cursed heavily, spitting sand.

“Ray will be pissed.” Walters said, looking at Sarah’s pale face.

“I
am pissed!”

The other two marines had come running from their posts only to watch Sarah die, and stood in silence over the poor girl. Lieutenant Evans was on her knees, staring at the hole, now filled with sand.

“To hell with—”

Sarah suddenly coughed as if her lungs were coming out, bursting sand into their faces.

“Yes!” the captain clenched his fist. “Quick, help me carry her!” he and Perkins grabbed Sarah’s arms to take her back to the staging area.

“Did—” Sarah was hit with a coughing spasm.

“Easy, girl.”

“Did we get the Arinar?”

“Yes, now relax.” Captain Samir looked at his sergeant. “Walters, help Austin to move. And don’t forget that damned trinket!”

***

By dusk they’d made their way back to the evacuation zone, and found Lieutenant Jackson lying still at his post with a knife in his neck.

Samir grimaced when he found the young man cowardly murdered, and signaled everyone to lay low in the bushes. Perkins crawled to Jackson, checking the man’s body. He looked back and raised two fingers, estimating the time of death. He reached for the dead man’s evacuation transmitter and signaled the transport for pickup, then crawled back to the group.

“Nothing, sir,” Perkins whispered. “The knife’s like nothing I’ve ever seen,” he showed the recovered weapon to Captain Samir.

The captain took the weapon from Perkins’ hands. “These carvings look similar to the ones on those staff weapons they use. It’s
Baeal. Keep your eyes open.”

“But how can they be here? And those men we took out were humans.”

“Who knows what the Cosmon Brotherhood’s up to. They may very well be the reason of these scums invading us. Wars have their own traitors.”

“But what would you gain from having your own planet seized or destroyed?” Perkins said.

“Damn me if I know, Perkins.” Samir looked back at his team. Sarah was conscious but in no condition to fight. “We can’t hold if there are more of those men. Especially against towering aliens and invisible pets hoping to eat our guts for breakfast.” Perkins and the two marines had their visors but Samir, Evans and Walters had lost all their equipment while trying to save their skins and Austin had only his sidearm to fight.

“I don’t like this.” Walters said. “No one in sight. It’s too silent.”

“What’s the plan, Samir?” Sarah asked. She looked much better now, considering her return from the dead.

“You’ll lay low and stay alive.”

“I’m fine,” Sarah smiled but her voice sounded weak.

The captain looked around, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll keep our heads down and hope that damned pilot makes it quick,” he said finally. “What do we have as gear?”

“Perkins’ team has their stuff in order,” Walters whispered. “Us five, we’re out in the open except for Sarah’s pistol. We can get Jackson’s camouflage as well.”

“Yeah, real good it did him. Just take the sidearm,” Samir said bitterly. He checked the Arinar inside Walters’ backpack and nodded. “I’ll carry that. All right, keep it low and cover yourselves with bushes; we’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Sarah,” he turned to look at the woman, “are you able to walk?

“I’m fine, just lead the way.” Sarah straightened up.

“Maybe we should wait,” Perkins pointed to a light in the clear evening sky that stood out against the stars, its brightness growing each second. “I believe that’s our ride.”

“That was fast.” Walters spat on the ground.

The transport gunship approached the landing zone, its engines deafening. “Delta Team, this is Evac One,” the pilot radioed. “Where is the rest of the squad?”

“This is all that’s left,” Captain Samir said, coming out of the bushes with his remaining team. “We have the package.”

“Roger that.”

They ran toward the dark green ship as the pilot touched down, but Samir slowed his steps a few meters from the gunship, “Walters, keep your eyes open.”

“Sir?”

“The boarding ramp’s still off,” he pointed the forward ramp used for marine deployment. “I don’t like this. You don’t touch down and keep the doors closed in emergency evacuation.” Samir looked around. No one was in sight and it would be impossible to miss a landing gunship for Jackson’s murderer. “Finding Jackson here all by himself doesn’t make sense.”

“Well,” Walters started but his eyes grew wide with the sound of the ramp opening. “Look out!” He pushed Samir aside and threw himself on the ground.

Two Baeal stood in the metal doorframe, staff weapons in hand. They rained fire on the squad, bright blasts of their weapons reflecting in their emotionless, dark eyes. Perkins stood riveted by the towering bald figures and it turned him into target practice. By the time Samir could raise his head, the soldier had at least four blast wounds, one severing his left arm.

Austin was no better; no matter his training, the sight of two hulking aliens had shocked him. He stared at the Baeal with his mouth wide open but Evans pulled him down in time to save him from sharing Perkins’ fate.

“Wake up!” Evans yelled.

The other two marines, Oswald and Jones reacted somewhat better to the ambush and threw themselves behind a nearby rock, returning fire with their pulse rifles.

Sarah took Perkins’ weapon and threw it to Samir, firing her pistol at the aliens at the same time. She was disoriented with all the sand she’d swallowed but her covering fire created room to maneuver for the rest of the team. Samir grabbed the weapon and purely by instinct, rolled to his right when he heard a cracking sound.

Something invisible smashed the rocks where he’d stood a moment ago and four orange balls of light appeared, looking down on the captain with their depthless, burning hunger. Without hesitating, Samir burst his rounds at the blurry shape and watched the orange balls’ light die. A hulking beast appeared out of thin air and lay still on the ground. His life had been saved by a fallen branch giving out under the creature’s weight.

“Die and take your friends with you!” A few meters behind, Sarah shot one of the Baeal in his black eyes, killing him instantly. Taken aback by the death of his comrade and his pet, the other alien hesitated, then fell before Oswald and Jones’ covering fire.

“Quick!” Walters yelled, rushing to the ramp. “He’s trying to take off!” He jumped on board the ship before it rose more than a few meters. Seconds later, a single gunshot was heard and blood splattered the cockpit window. Walters took over the controls, landing the ship again.

“Get us out of here!” Samir ordered, checking on what was left of his men.

Although he had no visible wounds, Austin was in shock and unresponsive. Oswald and Jones were both fine, with only scratches from crawling through the rough terrain, but they looked shaken. Evans was fine, although she looked older than she was. Sarah looked much better than he’d hoped.

“You’re a tough girl, Sarah.”

“I don’t know if I’m terrified or excited. Not feeling anything at the moment.”

“It happens.”

Sarah surely needed medical examination after inhaling so much sand but she was tough, Samir meant it. He checked the backpack, making sure they had the prize, and went back into the cockpit.

“All right.” He patted Walters’ shoulder. “Take us directly to the
Deviator
. No contact. We only talk to Admiral Conway and Ray’s people.”

“Our orders were to report back to the fleet,” Walters said.

“I’m changing our orders. This is Commander Hawk, the squadron leader of CTC
Garrett,”
Samir stared down at the dead pilot, then reached for his uniform, revealing the carved symbol of a sword, intersecting an upside down crescent moon. “And that’s the sign of Cosmon Brotherhood.”

Chapter FORTY-SEVEN

HOME: PART II

“Admiral, the first four warheads detonated prematurely,” Lieutenant Jong reported. The man was blinking slower than usual and mumbling more than speaking.

Rebecca nodded, sending the worn-out officer back to his duties. No matter how tired, Lieutenant Jong still performed admirably. Rebecca only wished his sense of duty wouldn’t be in vain.

The fleet had finished cleaning the remaining hostiles shortly after the destruction of the first Baeal fleet but her hopes had died fast when she saw what Ga’an meant by
‘the real enemy’
.

So far, the retreat of the Consortium fleet had been smooth mostly because the enemy left them alone, taking its time to move toward Earth. The four nuclear warheads she’d sent to test the enemy mother ship’s defenses turned out to be hopeless; the warheads detonating without a trace on the huge thing’s equally tremendous and powerful deflector shield. Rebecca knew only too well; they had no reason to hurry
.

Rebecca looked at Ga’an in admiration. This was the second time the Ancient faced this nightmare and he kept his composure, observing the tactical map and making sound suggestions. He was very much aware of the fate awaiting him and the rest of Earth’s population but he simply refused to give up. Ga’an’s soul was weakened when they had lost Mara’tthane. But now, Rebecca watched the man stand tall, his jaw tight, eyes watching the tactical display like a hawk. Mysterious trinkets and stories were not his game. The battlefield was.

“I envy you Mr. Ga’an,” she said finally.

The tall man glanced at Rebecca without emotion.

“Standing strong against certain death is admirable,” Rebecca continued. “I envy your courage.”

“All death is certain.”

Rebecca smiled weakly. Within a short period of time, she’d started feeling as if Ga’an was part of the
Deviator
family, forgetting he was an alien to human culture. If someone had hinted to her a few weeks back the possibility of meeting a live Ancient, she would have confined the man to the infirmary for a CT scan.

She moved her attention to the communications operator. “Lieutenant Adams, any news of the additional ships?”

The officer scratched his neck, looking at the newly arrived reports update. “We have another hundred and twenty military craft responding from nearby colonies and installations,” the man read. “Weiner-Johnson Mining is sending all available fuel carriers armed with turrets. With the planetary reserve fleet, we have four hundred and fifty-two capital craft in total.”

Rebecca sighed, “Mining ships.”

“What do they mine?” Ga’an asked over the map desk.

“Mostly niobium,” the lieutenant answered.

“Ship fuel,” Rebecca explained.

“Tell them to send the mining ships with full cargo load,” Ga’an said, scratching his angular chin.

The officer looked at his admiral with suspicion, unsure whether to carry out the orders of a guest but Rebecca waved the man to do it, curious about Ga’an’s idea.

“Hundred and twenty ships with explosives,” he said uncaringly.

“So?” Rebecca asked but realized where the Ancient was going. “Wait, you plan to use them as suicide bombs!”

“I believe Raymond Harris destroyed a city with one ship carrying the same substance,” Ga’an shrugged.

Rebecca couldn’t argue. If the reports were not exaggerated, the worm-like super ship had arrived with over three thousand accompanying capital craft. The enemy’s numbers rendered conventional military strategies ineffective and she was open to any unorthodox ideas at this time.

“All right,” she agreed, “walk me through your idea.”

Ga’an’s plan was simple. He looked at the assets list provided by the tactical officers and sketched a rough battle plan on the holographic map. Earth and the Moon had orbital defense cannons and missile racks positioned on the surface with sufficient range to handle any smaller craft and the Warrington Military Academy orbiting Earth had defense platforms armed with Kronos missiles—long range anti-capital craft warheads capable of delivering tremendous damage to armor and shields.

“The position of the planet and its moon can be used as poles, luring the enemy between, closer to the cannons so they will be in range.” The alien sketched a wide triangle, placing the Moon and the Earth at each of the base legs. “The fleet can be positioned here as a web,” he placed the fleet marker on top of the triangle. “Surface cannons focus on smaller craft while the platform attacks the enemy capital.”

“Yes, this may work,” Rebecca mumbled to herself, observing the map with narrowed eyes. “The miner ships have small jump drives for safe travel between fields. They cannot cover long distances but we can make them jump into the center of the fleet like ticking bombs.” The plan had a dozen holes they couldn’t address at the moment but it was more than they had a minute ago.

Ga’an nodded. “Then we can hit them with the Kronos SAMs like mines. However,” he said with his indifferent voice, “I suggest you start evacuating your planet.”

“Did I catch pessimism there, Ga’an?”

“It is highly probable we will be dead, Admiral Conway,” he shrugged. “Better to try and preserve the continuity of your species.”

Rebecca nodded. “The Consortium is evacuating the civilians. The order was given while we were occupied near Mars. I suspect Eberhardt and the others are already light years away, enjoying the beach of some tropical planet.”

“Eberhardt?”

“The boss who runs the show with the Consortium.” Rebecca didn’t try to hide her disgust.

“They should be here, fighting for their homes.”

“They are politicians. It is in their nature to save their skin. At the end of the day, politicians live and soldiers die.

“Then they are cowards.” Ga’an walked toward the main screen and again watched the final feed of the long-range probes before the Baeal scouts destroyed the satellites. “In my culture, we find honor in battling to the death. I will find a glorious death.”

Rebecca saw the man’s jaw clench even tighter, a truly rare moment, the uncaring Ancient showing emotion. She thought she understood. Losing all your people and the life you knew, only to fight its eradicators again, seemed harsh.

“Is your Consortium the only representative of your species?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are all humans ruled under the Consortium?”

“No.”

“Then why are no ships coming to aid from the others?”

Rebecca shook her head. “They either have no idea what is going on, or they simply ignore us. They might even hope to see the Consortium crumble so they can take its place.”

“If the Baeal calls this place home, there will not be another power to rule.”

“What can I say, we humans are stupid, Ga’an,” Rebecca sighed. “We better get ready,” she said, and started raining orders to her officers. They were about to prepare for their final stand and they had mere hours before the most important battle in the history of mankind.

The only important battle.