Star Runners 2: Revelation Protocol (21 page)

She glanced at her tablet, typing in orders as she spoke. “Just took out another team trying to get to the life support systems. Apparently there are intruders all over Atlantis.”

“Who are they?”

“Phantoms.”

“Here?” Austin shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“How’d they get here?”

Brannen grimaced. “They must have had help from the inside. Must have taken tubes over the past couple days. They have targeted Atlantis, but for what, I have no idea.”

Austin glanced down at the dark displays. “We have no idea what’s going on out there?”

“No, but we know our alert fighters have engaged something moving across the ocean floor at the outer perimeter.”

“Do we have any defense cannons?” another officer asked, wading through the water.

Brannen nodded toward the burning row of electronic wreckage. “That explosion took out the automated systems. I’ve ordered crews to the cannons, but I don’t know if the message went through.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” the officer said.

On his way to the door, the officer grabbed four other officers. The five went through the hatch leading to other corridors, grabbing laser rifles as they made their way through the destruction. Distance explosions rattled the stations, sending ripples across the standing water.

“Adams, Clay,” Brannen said, pointing at two crewmembers, “I need power in here and I needed it five minutes ago. Start with the sensors. Then get the pumps operating. We can’t do our job in freezing water.”

Austin clenched his chattering teeth and holstered his weapon. He thought of Nubern in the civilian hangar moving the six Tridents back to hangar three.

“So much for the target being San Francisco. What about the civilian hangar?” he asked.

Brannen lowered her gaze. “You know what I do Lieutenant.”

“Other than what’s on alert now, we lost all our fighters.” He thought of the muscular blonde pilot he saw moments before the explosion. “And our pilots.”

“I know.” She handed him a headset. “This’ll work anywhere in Atlantis. You run into resistance, I want to know about it.”

Austin grabbed the headset and turned to leave. The power flickered like lightning. The hologram of Earth faded and disappeared. The displays came to life and then died. After a moment, the power kicked on full.

“The disruptor has ceased,” Brannen said, her gaze fixed on the hologram. “Our sensors are coming back online.”

The officers able to stand clapped. Austin slapped Brannen on the shoulder and smiled, until he looked at the displays in front of him.

Six large vessels surrounded Atlantis, skimming across the ocean floor from all sides and closing fast. Torpedoes moved toward the other three hangars, including the civilian hangar. Defense cannons destroyed the torps. The alert fighters had disappeared, probably destroyed by the incoming vessels.

“If they wanted to destroy us, they could do that from a distance,” Brannen said. “They mean to board and take the Atlantis Dome.”

“Why?” Austin asked.

“This is the center of Legion activity in the entire system. If this falls, the system is wide open to invasion.”

Austin frowned. “Can we hold?”

“We are manning the cannons to deal with incoming submersibles,” Brannen said. “Inside, we’ll set up defense stations at all access points to the main station. If they board, they’ll run into a fight.”

Explosions rumbled in the distance, followed by sporadic laser fire and screams. Brannen’s eyes darted around the room, staring at displays and holograms.

“The defenses have to hold,” she said, staring at him with her eyes wide. “We will not allow Atlantis to fall. I may need you to help coordinate the defense on the northern corridor.”

“I’ll do what I can to help.” Austin nodded and touched her shoulder.

He looked up at the flickering Earth hologram. A clump of red spots appeared in high orbit.

“Wait. Zoom in on that,” Austin said, barely above a whisper.

Brannen ordered a crewmember to enhance the area. The hologram illuminated the red grouping and zoomed.

“Oh, my,” Brannen said, her mouth hanging open.

“What? What is it?”

“Looks like fifty fighters grouping in high orbit. They are descending in attack formation.”

“Fighters?” Austin asked, thinking of Mom and Kadyn in San Francisco. “What fighters? Whose?”

She leaned over a nearby display. “Unknown, they have no transponders, but the vessel type matches the hybrid vessels of modified Tridents used by the Tyral Pirates. They’re entering the atmosphere now and are coming fast.”

Austin swallowed. “To where?”

“Here. They’re coming here. San Francisco was never the target.” Brannen shook her head. “Atlantis is the target.”

Austin shook his head, his jaw dropping. After all this time and their preparations assuming San Francisco would be targeted, Atlantis was under attack.

A wail like the alarm on a clock radio sounded in the room.

“What is that?” Austin asked, his eyes wide.

Brannen stared at her control board. “There’s a transmission coming in.”

“From where? Earth?”

Brannen keyed for a gamma wave trace. “It’s originating from orbit.”

“Orbit? From the incoming fighters?”

She nodded slowly, and pressed a button. An electronic screech filled the air, echoing throughout the water-filled command center.

“Atlantis.”

The voice boomed. Austin winced, the realization falling over him like a shroud.
Dax Rodon.

“Atlantis,” Rodon sneered, “I am thrilled to speak to you at last.”

Brannen stared at Austin.

“Atlantis is surrounded with several of my submersibles. I am giving you this chance to surrender.”

Clearing her throat, Brannen grabbed a headset. “You will never get away with this Rodon. We have reinforcements—“

“Spare me,” Rodon barked. “We both know there are no Legion reinforcements on the way. You are spread out across the quadrant in a vain effort to stop us. We will board and take Atlantis. And you will let us.”

“Never,” Brannen whispered, the strength fading from her voice.

“You will regret this,” Rodon said. “Remember, as you lay dying, I gave you this chance.”

The transmission ceased.

Brannen stared at her control station for a moment. When she looked at Austin, her bloodshot eyes filled with worry. She shook her head, her lips pressing together.

Austin touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll get to the civie hangar, see what I can do.”

The flames reached two hundred feet into the air. The winds whipped the fiery inferno until it looked like a twister from hell. Josh adjusted course, the change in temperature causing the fighter to vibrate like a jackhammer. He tightened the harness and banked into a long, slow turn encircling the farm.

The fire had reached the crops. Prisoners scurried in all directions. A large group of men sprinted toward the hills. Others moved toward the compound. Just outside the barn, standing like a statue in the middle of the chaos, stood a large man brandishing a laser rifle. He fired twice at an angle. The bolts sizzled into the air and dissipated in the distance. Prisoners who got too close to the compound ran away from the laser fire.

Waylon.

Descending through the flames, Josh lowered the landing gear. The fires hadn’t caught onto the barn, yet, but the flames reached when a gust of wind shot across the landscape. He dropped the fighter near the barn, hoping the fires wouldn’t hit the spacecraft. He opened the canopy and leaned over the side, staring at Waylon standing in the flames.

“Come on!” he yelled.

Screaming toward the mass of prisoners, Waylon fired twice more into the crowd and sprinted for the fighter. A surge of three prisoners emerged from the field fires, their faces wide with fury and holding farming tools over their heads.

“Don’t leave us here!” the closest prisoner yelled.

“Look out!” Josh screamed.

Waylon spun around. He dropped to one knee and fired. Two prisoners fell into the dirt. The survivor slowed. He tossed the tool to the dirt, shaking his head.

“You will just leave us here then?” the man said.

“Here, you’ll have a chance to live,” Waylon said. “Take another step forward and I’ll end it.”

The prisoner fell to his knees, his arms falling limp at his side. “Do what you will.”

Waylon held the rifle at his side, apparently ready for another surge of prisoners to rush the fighter. The fire’s heat surged into the cockpit. Josh checked his fighter’s sensors. The hull’s temperature climbed as if he passed through the atmosphere. He couldn’t activate the shields with his canopy open.

“Let’s go! Waylon! We have to go!”

Walking backwards, Waylon kept his weapon trained on the fields. The prisoner on the landing pad remained on his knees. Waylon reached the fighter. Josh stood to allow the man to climb into the back.

Waylon paused. “That’s a small seat,” he said.

“It’s a small fighter.” Josh jerked his head. “Get in! We don’t have much time.”

Waylon folded his massive frame into the back seat usually meant for small personal items. After trying to jam the rifle inside, he tossed it into the dirt. Josh lifted off the ground before he shut the canopy. A rush of heat moved the fighter to the left, the landing gear bumping against the barn. Josh looked down, saw the prisoner staring up at the fire and surrounding him as winds howled in from the plains.

Josh righted the fighter and shut the canopy. He activated the shields, effectively creating an atmosphere around the ship. He pulled back on the stick and eased the throttle forward. Glancing back, the fires reached the compound. The inferno engulfed the barn in a ball of flame. Prisoners ran around in a frenzy. Dax Rodon would have no food supply to return to now. When he returned, he would find dirt and ash.

Josh smiled. Facing forward, he took a deep breath and settled into the seat. Waylon smelled of sweat and fire as he breathed heavily from the backseat. Josh pushed the throttle and pulled back on the stick until he shot at a ninety-degree angle with the land. The blue morning sky transitioned slowly to the black of space. Stars poked through the atmosphere like sparkling beacons in the distance. Earth was among them, somewhere.

In everything he had experienced in recent years, he marveled at the fact Earth had been untouched by galactic events. Pure luck, he thought. Hundreds of dark worlds had the same fate. The powers of the known universe moved around them like a river bypassed rocks. Somehow, they remained untouched.

But now, the Tyral Pirates had their way station. They had the ability to strike at a dark world, and Josh had been unable to stop it.

“I need the coordinates to your base,” Josh said.

“Right.” The man reached, leaning forward and pressing against Josh’s back. “Where’s navigation?”

Josh snorted. “You still don’t trust me?”

“You get me home and we’ll talk.”

Shaking his head, Josh pointed at the navigation computer. Reaching over Josh’s shoulder, Waylon punched the keys. The keyboard shook with each keystroke from his heavy fingers. Josh held his breath, the man’s body odor hitting him in waves. When Waylon pulled back, Josh worked on starting the curvature drive. They had enough power for one curve. Waylon had better know his coordinates or they might have an interesting trip. Josh decided to keep his opinion to himself.

While he waited for the curvature drive to warm, he activated the air vents to circulate the stench. After all, he knew he didn’t smell too good, either. He brought the fighter into a high orbit and enjoyed the moment of peace.

“Be about two minutes,” Josh said, closing his eyes.

Waylon exhaled. “Take your time. Just glad to be off that stinking toilet bowl of a planet.” He shivered. “Freezing though.”

“Space is cold.”

“Don’t I know this,” Waylon grumbled, rubbing his arms. “Spent more time in space than you have, boy.”

Josh sighed. “True.”

“I grew up in space. Got used to that planet. I feel more at home in the cold.”

Josh opened his eyes. He leaned against the canopy, staring down at the brown and blue planet. The fighter didn’t have updated star charts, so Josh couldn’t even verify his location. He knew it was somewhere within the Amade Cluster, but the planet had no name on this chart.

But after spending so much time on an asteroid and not seeing the sky or breathing fresh air, the toilet bowl planet had been a pleasant change.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Josh said quietly.

“No?” Waylon grumbled, sounding as if he had nearly fallen asleep. “You want to go back?” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“By the way, you have my gratitude.”

“Yeah? For what?”

“Coming back. I have to admit it; I saw your fighter disappear over the horizon with that pirate on your tail and I wondered for a moment if I would spend my last hours wandering an empty planet.”

Josh smiled and nodded. “We’re a team.”

He played with the navigation computer. This fighter’s last location had been in the middle of an asteroid belt in the nearby Zine System. It had to be the location of the main Tyral Base where they were before, but having the location was one thing and having a force to attack it was another.

The curvature drive beeped. The power cells had charged and they reached their full power.

“Okay, we’re ready to roll,” Josh said. “You ready?”

“I was ready last month. Just go.”

Josh activated the curve. The space wavered around them. Colors surrounded the ship. He eased into the curve, feeling his stomach drop and twist. Dizziness surrounded him like a whirlpool, but faded as quickly as it started. The space normalized around the fighter.

Josh exhaled, relieved the curvature drive on this fighter had actually passed through a curve. “Okay, we’re through.

Josh eased back on the throttle and did a star chart check.

“Verifying our location,” Josh said. “We’re in the Tormada System. It’s a binary star system with four planetary bodies. Tell me where to go.”

“I know where we are.” Waylon—and his smell—returned to pressing on his back. “Third moon of the fourth planet.”

Josh nodded. “Heading there now.”

“Hand me that headset.”

Josh passed it back. “Tell me what to do.”

“Once we get into orbit with the moon, I’ll contact my people.” He laughed. “Of course, they might not be there.”

Josh frowned. “Seriously?”

“You never know.”

Josh brought the fighter into orbit with the third moon. The fourth planet loomed to his right; a yellowish giant gas planet.

“Okay, ease into orbit,” Waylon said. “Change your frequency to four-zero-five and we’ll see what happens.”

“You sound worried.”

“You’re flying an unknown fighter into Barracuda territory. You’re damn right I’m worried.”

Josh eased back on the throttle. He hadn’t thought of what it would look like to the other Barracudas at their base. Waylon had offered his services to help take out the Tyral Pirate base. Josh hadn’t asked for many details back when they were prisoners in that farming compound, but he assumed Waylon’s smuggling group had dealt with the pirates before. Otherwise, why would Waylon be certain the other smugglers would want to help?

“Waylon?”

“Yeah.”

Josh chose his words carefully. “We never decided on how we were going to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You said we needed to get off the planet before we decided how to counterattack.” Josh shrugged. “We’re off the planet.”

Waylon grumbled. “I see.”

Josh waited. “Well?”

“Taking out the Tyral Base will help our operations, so I don’t think we’ll have much trouble convincing my people.”

“I thought you were their commander?”

“I’m their boss, but I can’t order them to launch an attack. We’re businessmen. Sure we can take care of ourselves, but we’re not soldiers.”

“I see.” Josh’s stomach dropped. “Well, thanks in advance for checking. I appreciate it.”

“Sure. If it were up to me, I’d kill every one of the pirates. Would love to start with Rodon if I could.”

The tension on his chest eased. He had to put his faith in Waylon. He owed him that much after the man risked his life to set the grasslands on fire. Now it was his turn to place faith.

“Transmit,” Waylon said.

Josh complied, pressing the button. “You are live.”

“Dinner is cooking. It’s going to be larba stew tonight. I repeat, larba stew with too much salt.”

Static met the message. Waylon repeated it. Josh shook his head. This is crazy, he thought.

“We copy boss,” a voice cut through the static. “We are hungry.”

Waylon slapped his hands together. “Alright! Welcome to Sanctum!”

He grabbed Josh’s shoulders hard enough the fighter drifted off course.

“Let’s land and grab some dinner—some real dinner!”

Josh’s stomach growled at the mention of dinner.

“Tell me where to land.”

*****

Amidst a cavern of rock outcroppings stretching down from the ceiling thirty feet above the floor, Josh devoured his first taste of real meat in months. The bowl of meat stew disappeared in a matter of minutes. An older man with a white beard offered a second bowl, saying something in a language Josh couldn’t understand. Since his translator needed charging, Josh accepted without saying a word.

The moon’s gray rocky surface looked like the edge of a volcano. Waylon had directed him to a large canyon in the northern hemisphere. As they had passed over the surface, Josh saw no plant life or water of any kind. When the canyon came to an end, they passed through a cavern opening. The subterranean Barracuda compound Waylon called Sanctum took up several caves including a hangar large enough for half a dozen Trident fighters. That is, of course, if this smuggling group could afford a spacecraft as extravagant as a Legion Trident. From what Josh had seen on the way in, most of the equipment seemed to be pieced together with metal fragments.

A team of sixteen men and four women had welcomed them before sitting down to dine on the meat stew at a long table. The aroma filled the room, saturating the rags he passed off for clothing. Waylon showed emotion Josh had never seen when he reunited with the crew. The large man embraced each and every member of the crew, holding each of them close for long moments at a time. Tears fell freely as the crew swept Josh aside. He didn’t mind.

Josh started on the second bowl of stew when Waylon made his way to his table. Waylon smiled, revealing his yellowed teeth behind the bushy beard of red curled hair. The grin softened as he stared at all of them. His gaze fell to the floor.

“Anjeun kudu penerjemah hiji? Oh.” Waylon handed him a charged translator.

Josh popped his translator back in his ear. “Don’t tell them, yet,” he said quietly. “They’ll ask soon enough.”

Waylon nodded, his gaze focusing on nothing.

“How did you find this place?” Josh asked, trying to change the subject.

“My wife’s father started the Barracudas and found it on a scouting mission long before I met Tyra,” he said, his voice monotone. “We don’t know who built this. They were gone long before we got here. They’ve never come back, so we’ve made it home.”

“It’s impressive,” Josh said, staring at the rocky ceiling.

“I love it here.”

A spoon tapped on the one piece of glass at the front of the table. At the end of the long table, the older man who had served the meat stew stood and grinned.