Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) (17 page)

I opened my eyes. I spied blue above along with faint images of stars and two moons.

Why am I seeing two moons?

It troubled me for ten harrowing seconds. I began to panic. Then, I realized we’d transferred, traveling hundreds of light years in the blink of an eye. Our asteroid-sized Forerunner artifact hovered high in Sanakaht’s atmosphere.

Around me, assault troopers stirred on the silvery surface.

No
, I told myself.
We’re Star Vikings. We have to think of this as gathering loot, not conquering an enemy.

“Ella, can you hear me?” I said into my helmet microphone. When she didn’t respond, I said, “N7?”

“Yes, Commander,” the android said.

“Where are you?” I asked, looking around.

Air-cycles lay clumped nearby with Star Vikings beginning to drag themselves to a sitting position. Farther away, large beam cannons aimed targeting apertures in various directions. Bigger generating systems hummed quietly beside them with thick cables linking the two. Beyond them, like waiting attack-dogs, leaned the thermonuclear-tipped missiles. We’d literally packed tons of deadly ordnance in one small area.

The only non-symbiotic-suited trooper raised his arm. He wore a cyber-suit. It was similar to Lokhar powered armor. N7 would stay up here on the artifact at the mobile commander center.

“Come here and give me a hand,” I said. “I want to pinpoint the outlying targets.”

The command center was composed of heavy tables with computers, targeting systems and drone equipment. We sat under the open air with a few high clouds above. Far below so everything merged together was the Sanakaht surface. It was bright green like a fairy tale with a ribbon river to the left.

As others began to stir around me, N7 and I sat on swivel-seats, tapping screens.

Large-winged drones buzzed with noise. The mini-planes sped on the surface before lifting sharply. They had hypervelocity settings, but each needed a target before we engaged the high-Mach speeds.

Trying to remember what I’d seen inside Holgotha, I told N7 about the different tiger defensive establishments.

The two of us sat side-by-side. We played the part of drone pilots. Soon enough, our boards lit up. The sniffing drones picked up radiation and Lokhar radar signals.

Tap, tap, tap
.

One after another, the drones kicked into hypervelocity. They sped to check out the various military installations. Most of them were over the horizon.

Sanakaht had ten percent greater mass than Titan possessed. Saturn’s moon had a diameter of 5120 kilometers. It meant we were light and strong here, and that the horizon was much closer than it would be on Earth or even Mars.

As the drones dwindled into dots and disappeared from my naked eyesight, I had time to ponder the situation.

A monster asteroid had just appeared high in Sanakaht’s atmosphere. One would think such an occurrence would have freaked out everyone on the planet. I’m sure that’s what happened. We must have achieved surprise, complete and total shock. How could it be otherwise? Giant metal donuts with artificial black holes don’t just appear in skies. Yet here we hovered, bearing a brutal life lesson for the Lokhars below.

I believe we achieved bewildering surprise over the Lokhars. It gave the assault troopers time to stir and gather their wits.

As Star Vikings righted their air-cycles, my first drone reached its destination.

On my screen, I observed closed silos. No tiger technician ran across the grounds. No Lokhar cars screeched, sending up smoke. The place lay placid and serene.

A glance at N7’s screen showed me similar complacency. No. I take that back. As the android switched to another drone, I saw big circular plates in the ground dilate open. A focusing mirror rose to do battle against us.

“It’s time to launch, boys and girls,” I said.

N7 glanced at me.

“Yeah,” I said. “I mean you and me, just boys this time.”

With quick precise taps, N7 did the honors.

Around us, the artifact trembled as two dozen missiles took flight. They roared with spewing fire, leaving thick smoky trails in the sky.

I had to close my mouth and let my eyes blink several times. The missiles gained velocity fast. Much quicker than the drones had done, the missiles dwindled out of sight.

“Get the beam cannons lined up!” I shouted. “We want to knock down all the defensive satellites upstairs.”

Others now began to sit down at their tables, adjusting computer screens. Chatter increased between them.

The big focusing systems swiveled. Some aimed up. Others watched the horizon for tiger attack-craft. Soon, stabbing rays reached up from Holgotha.

I’d moved behind the new command team. On a screen, I watched a laser beam eat into an armored defensive satellite in orbit. The ray burned white-hot substance, turning the rest of the outpost into vapor. As predicted, Lokhar satellite weapons system had their cannons aimed into space not down at the planet.

Craning my neck, I watched the Demar hauler. Smoke poured from its exhaust ports. Flames flickered through it at times. The spaceship climbed for orbital space. There, it would unload its missile-drones. Their task was to knock down any approaching starships.

“We’re doing it,” I said.

For the next few minutes, I stood content. Rollo, Dmitri and other commanders gathered their attack teams. On the radio-nets, they gave last minute instructions.

A woman cursed softly in horror.

I looked up. Someone grabbed my bio-suited triceps and pointed to the left. I saw what had made her curse.

Checking a helmet chronometer, I realized that ten minutes after Holgotha’s appearance in Sanakaht’s skies, the first thermonuclear warhead went off on the planet’s surface. Given the mushroom’s size, this one had to be fifty kilometers away. The cloud kept growing, rising and expanding as it radiated dirt. There wasn’t anything pretty about this. Yet in its own way, the atomic cloud had a horrible majesty.

I saw another, a third, fourth, fifth—

With an oath, I turned away from the explosions. We were doing to the Lokhars what they had done to us. Part of me exuded savagery at the act, but another part felt small and dirty. Nuking planetary structures just seemed wrong. I wondered if I had let my hatred and my need get the better of me.

First breathing deeply, I asked, “Ella, N7, do you have everything under control?”

“Affirmative,” N7 said.

“Yes,” Ella whispered. She stared into the distance at the biggest mushroom cloud.

“Don’t look at them,” I told her.

She aimed her visor at me.

“We had to use them,” I said. “We have to knock out their retaliatory ability in order to win this fight.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

I swallowed down a snappy retort. Maybe sticking to business was the best way to play this.

“Keep everything off our backs,” I told her. “I don’t want any Lokhar spacecraft, star fighters or even balloons in the air. Knock down everything. We’re going to hit the spaceyard.”

Ella’s visor moved up and down in acknowledgement. “Be careful, Creed. The tigers hate you.”

“Some of them at least,” I said.

“There could be Shi-Feng on Sanakaht.”

Thank you, Ella Timoshenko
. Her words snapped me out of my brooding. We nuked them because we had no choice. This was their fault, not ours.

“I’m hoping there’s some Shi-Feng,” I said. Spinning around, I sprinted for my air-cycle. The time for contemplation and planning had passed. It was time to rock and roll.

***

As if an internal switch had flipped, my outlook changed as I ran from the command center to my cycle. Worry about unleashing nuclear holocausts dwindled just as the drones had done from my sight. I found myself grinning.

Then I leaped onto my Saurian-built DZ9 air-cycle. Sometimes, life could be glorious and sublime. A few like me rode alone without a back-sitting passenger. Twisting the throttle gave me power. With a hum of energy, I rose into the air. All around me, troopers lifted above Holgotha’s gleaming surface.

Over my headphones, I heard radio chatter, commands and grid coordinates. I heard bubbling engines and saw airborne troopers bobbing several centimeters up and down.

I gunned my machine, speeding away from the artifact. For a sick moment, fear curdled my gut. I zipped past the silver donut surface and hung over a vast abyss of air. Far below me spread out Sanakaht’s green surface.

The fear evaporated as I shouted, “Here were go!” The sound reverberated inside my helmet. I loved it.

Then, as if I were in the middle of a cartoon, my air-cycle dropped. I plummeted toward destiny. Around me, other air-cyclists dropped likewise.

I could feel my lips stretch into a wild grin. This was too awesome. Today, I had become Superman. Titling my air-cycle’s nose downward, I gave it more power. I sped down for the spaceyard like a bullet.

Whooping like a berserk Hell’s Angel, I lead the pack down upon the Lokhars. This had to be the greatest moment of my life.

“We’re the Star Vikings, baby!” I shouted. “We’re here to rock your world and bust your balls!”

As my velocity built, my machine began to shake. I loved it. Hunkering lower, I sledded down like a madman. A quick twist of my head backward showed me a horde of Star Vikings hot-dogging it after me on their DZ9 cycles.

Maybe the tigers had AA guns and missiles. Stolen Saurian beam cannons lanced their rays down from Holgotha. They burned defensive equipment out of existence.

I’ll spare the sensitive and anti-poetic among you. Riding the air-cycles, we swooped toward the spaceyard. It might have been a little after lunchtime Sanakaht-time.

Buildings soon came into focus. Smashed missiles and jumbo-jet craft burned crazily on the ground. Most of them sent up thick oily smoke. Things like bus-sized dune buggies raced away from the spaceyard. Other tigers sprinted for cover. A few took potshots at us with hunting weapons.

At that point, I don’t know what everyone else did, but I can tell you how I enjoyed my visit over Sanakaht. Rocketing like vengeance, I chased several dune buggy buses. They rocked up and down on the road and swayed side to side. The vehicles had some springs. The path looked like a steel highway. It reflected the harsh sunlight, forcing my visor to darken.

In the nearest buggy, ten tigers turned around. A few pointed with their fingers. I couldn’t tell if they’d exposed their claws. One cocked his arm and tossed what must have been a grenade. It exploded in the air far before me, leaving a black mark. I dodged it just in case. Only two tigers seemed to have guns, and those were stubby like carbines.

As I closed the distance, the carbines bucked upward. Did the tigers fire bullets? I couldn’t see any laser or particle beam.

With both hands on the bars, I swooped down after the bus like a hawk from Hell. None of our air-cycles boasted integral ordnance. These things were as innocent of weaponry as the first biplanes in World War I on Earth. Yet just like the first observers in those biplanes, I carried a handgun. Mine did not pop weak slugs. I had a heavy laser pistol specially selected for this.

A coil linked the pistol to an energy pack strapped to the air-cycle.

Guiding the cycle one-handed, I drew smoothly. The tigers kept shooting. A bullet might have hit my cycle. It rocked. Another slug definitely struck my bio-armor. I felt a sting of pain in my side. Soothing coolness smothered the sensation almost instantly.

I pulled the trigger. The beam lanced down, visible on my HUD. It rayed beside the buggy. As I closed the final distance, I adjusted. The beam cut down several tigers, including one of the rifle-Lokhars.

My HUD schematics showed me the buggy’s fuel pod. I held the ray there for two seconds. Then my cycle passed overhead by ten meters. Behind me, I heard a terrific explosion.

I twisted around and had the distinct pleasure of watching the bus flip. Tigers spilled out, raining onto the road and the soft ground beside it. Then the buggy crashed, shedding metal. And it exploded again, flipping and twisting the thing.

I turned forward, holding the air-cycle’s bars with both hands. The concussions from the bus made it a bumpy few seconds.

After turning the DZ9 around, heading back at the buggy pack, I found myself roaring with laughter. I’d been waiting to do something like this for a long time. I remembered seeing my dad—Mad Jack Creed—dying from a tiger beam. I remembered the cities of Earth igniting, including my hometown. I could also remember little penguins keeling over and spitting black gunk.

The laughter changed to snarls of savagery. With each pass, I took out another dune buggy.
Whoosh
, I’d rush over the vehicles, beaming. Then I’d turn the handlebars, swinging around, heading back—
whoosh.

Big old dune buses burned on the steel highway. Dead tigers bled. It had become their personal Highway of Death. The U.S. military had done the same thing to the soldiers of Saddam Hussein in 1991.

Here on this alien world, we taught a few Lokhars why their brethren shouldn’t have nuked the Earth.

After the sixth pass, it finally dawned on me that I’d let my symbiotic suit get the better of me. For once, I’d gotten carried away with battle-madness and bloodlust.

It took a minute of intense internal dialogue to head for the spaceyard. Killing Lokhars had its own appeal. Coming home victorious to Earth trumped that.