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In Death's Shadow
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The Spiral War Saga
Book Two
S.F. Edwards
Check out SF Edward’s website at www.spiralwar.com
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialog are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 SF Edwards
Edited by Siobhan Marshall-Jones
Published 2017 by Noble Storm
www.spiralwar.com
Cover Art by Gary Compton
Book Design by Big River Press Ltd
Book One in the Spiral War On Daggger’s Wings is out now.
Check it out here.
UCSB DATE: 1000.022
Star System: Garov-18965, Prime Jump Point, Mapper’s Guild Ship 9834
With the stars surrounding him, Blazer flexed his grip on his reliable old P-42 plaser rifle, the anticipation of the coming assault playing on his nerves. They’ve left us no choice. We came in peace, these Vermba have no part in the war with the Geffers, but they attacked us without warning. If we do nothing, they will kill our whole crew, steal our nav computer, and invite a level of Sheol upon themselves that they can’t even imagine. Blazer looked over at Arion.
His oldest friend, Arion had disagreed with the plan ever since Blazer had crafted it. He insisted that they could negotiate instead of going on the offensive. Blazer would have agreed, but the Vermba now held the rest of crew of their small explorer ship at gunpoint. His mind drifted to Lazith, the ship’s newly minted navigation officer, and his lover. Stay focused: he shook the image of her out of his mind. He had to remain on task. This plan was the only option, and it ensured the lowest loss of life. Having a retired Admiral for grandfather came in handy for the tactics Blazer had learned from the man.
Blazer turned to the spirit orbs again as they revolved around him. Were it not for the information this pair of quantum consciousnesses had gleaned for him about these Vermba, he might not be so glad that they were here. “They still have no idea what we did, right?”
The orbs twittered back at him, flaring in the darkness of space as he and the rest of the security team clung to the side of the ship that had been their home for almost three annura. Images filled his mind of the metal panel his team had cold-welded over the pusher plate projection tube of one of the Vermba’s four Nuclear Pulse Propulsion ships, a hect earlier. Primitive by Confed standards, the ships propelled themselves on the shockwaves of reaction warheads. More images flowed in—the crew of the ship, their boards showing white ready indicators, as opposed to the standard Confed blue.
“We are still a go,” Blazer relayed to his team. Double clicks indicating readiness echoed back over the link from his old friends, Arion, Bichard, and Deniv.
“Thank God the captain insisted we be ready to go when we dropped out of hyperspace,” Deniv, the oldest member of Blazers’s team of ‘buoy boys’ commented. “Imagine if we weren’t already in the airlock when these nutjobs hit us with their reaction warheads?”
“To think these Vermba went from steam power to developing reaction pulse ships in twenty annura,” Bichard added, his insectoid physiology filling the words with a low hum and punctuating them with clicks from his mandibles. “They might have been weak but they managed to overwhelm our shields and electronics.”
The audacity of it angered Blazer. The Guild is the core of the Confederation. Without us there are no jump buoys, and without them, no commerce or travel beyond star systems. “They’ll learn, now cut the chatter and stay focused,” he ordered. Lazith must be incensed; she’ll go on about this for decles.
Blazer’s link crackled to life; Arion. “B, are you sure about this? These beings don’t know our laws or customs, nor do we know theirs.”
Blazer palmed the faceplate of his visor. Fine, if it made Arion feel better, he would make one concession. “Make sure your weapons are set to stun. Happy, Arion?”
“It’s better.”
“Heads up,” the hum-click voice of Bichard rang over the link. “I see orange lights on ship one, probably the warning that they’re about to start their main engine.”
“Copy that, ready weapons,” Blazer ordered and pulled out the detonator for the second part of the assault. We’re coming Lazith, hold tight. Ever since the attack, ship one, as they designated it, had started moving away from the jump point. It flew away on low thrust chemical rockets while the other three ships in the flotilla surrounded their disabled craft. It was only thanks to the intel the orbs had provided that Blazer had found out Ship One was heading home to report the capture of their craft.
Blazer’s mouth went dry as he waited. He had no idea when Ship One would launch its first reaction warhead to propel it home. The distance at least would limit the effects of the EMP on their systems, preventing it from interfering with his detonator signal to the other three ships.
A bright flash lit up space from the direction of Ship One, polarizing the face of his helmet to save his sight. Instinct still forced Blazer to turn away from the departing vessel for a moment. When he looked back, and the polarization had faded, it was all he could do not to smile. The whole aft end of the ship was gone, the scattered remains of the pusher plate rocketing away. Their panel had held, and the reaction warhead meant to propel the ship had instead crippled what was left of it. A moment later another flash lit up the darkness behind Ship One, his faceplate polarizing again as the second reaction warhead deployed.
Blazer keyed the detonator and turned towards the nearest Vermba ship, number four. A silent explosion rocked the side of the craft when one of its chemical propellant tanks breached. The ship rocketed sideways, a flaming geyser erupting from the spherical tank. That should keep them busy. “Report.”
“Ship Two is floundering,” Deniv reported.
“Ship Three is disabled,” Bichard added.
“Good, Arion, get that hatch open.”
“On it,” Arion replied, his voice low.
Worry about him later. Rescue the crew. That’s your priority. Blazer vaulted for the hatch as Arion cycled it open and looked back at the alien ships. Thrusters all across their cylindrical hulls fired in vain attempts to regain some semblance of control, but it wouldn’t be in time.
Grabbing hold of the lip of the hatch, Blazer allowed his momentum to swing him inside, where he slammed to the deck in half-normal gravity. Unslinging his rifle, he waited for the others to enter, then keyed the airlock to cycle.
The airlock sat only a few steps back from the command deck, so they would have to move fast. “On the bounce. Just like they taught us in basic, short controlled bursts, try not to hit any friendlies or equipment.”
Explorer ships, like this one, operated with small crews. Each crewmember performed multiple duties, and most had limited military training. Blazer and his team were an exception. As buoy boys, they also served as the ship’s maintainers and security complement in case of trouble, which was rare, and were the only ones beside the captain to have unrestricted weapons access.
When the door opened, Blazer led the charge. By now the Vermba boarders had to know something was wrong, and if Blazer’s team hesitated, he didn’t want to think what might happen. With luck, they would surrender. and then Blazer and his team would just suit them back up and kick them out of the airlock, where the crews of their ships could rescue them. A proper first contact team could handle the political ramifications later.
Blazer stormed the bridge and both his hearts froze. It wasn’t the odd six-eyed countenance of the Vermba that stayed him. He’d been raised around countless aliens. It was the hostage their leader held at gunpoint, its other tentacled hand wrapped around her throat. It was Lazith. What do I do? He hadn’t expec
ted them to hold her hostage. The captain was the better choice. But the old man just sat bound in his command chair like the rest of the crew.
Blazer looked into Lazith’s deep blue eyes. Those eyes pleaded with him. He’d fallen in love with those eyes—her officer rank did not hold their hearts apart.
She struggled against the alien’s grip as it screamed something at him, but all Blazer could do was stare at her eyes. He snapped up his rifle when its grip on her throat tightened, but he couldn’t aim it right. The barrel wouldn’t stay steady, and his vision refused to focus. He’d never faced a situation like this before, not for real, and he began to doubt himself.
Lazith screamed at him. “Do something! Do something!”
Blazer’s grip loosened. He’d never heard her use such a pleading tone, and the barrel of his weapon fell a decimetra. Do what you have to save her.
The thunder crack of a chemically accelerated bullet shattered the tension. Blazer watched in disbelief as his world fractured. He felt like he was moving near the speed of light as the side of Lazith’s head exploded. A gout of blood, bone and brain sprayed across the open space behind the Vermba’s bullet, her eyes losing their luster in an instant. He blinked. This has to be a dream, please god. When his eyes opened again it was no dream. Lazith slumped out of the alien’s grip, and the image of his own weapon’s mode selector floated to mind.
His whole body shook for an instant, his nose scrunching up in rage. He snapped his weapon back up, flicking it to full power, and fired. Two concentrated laser initiated plasma rounds tore through the alien leader’s head, scorching the viewport beyond. From some well of anger he had no idea he even possessed, he called out to his team. “No mercy!” The slow motion fall of Lazith and the alien leader came to an abrupt halt as time returned to normal pace.
The echo of multiple stun blasts rocked the bridge around Blazer as he twisted his rifle about towards the Vermba beside the helm. He let loose two more high energy plaser rounds into the alien soldier, scorching the first through its heart, and the second through its throat. Blazer turned to the Vermba before Deniv; it had shrugged off the diffused plasma of the stun blasts. Blazer brought his weapon to bear, but Deniv beat him to the punch and drilled three concentrated ‘kill’ rounds through the being’s torso.
More plaser rounds sounded from behind him; Arion had also switched to full-power. Screams from an inhuman throat tore through the bridge as Blazer searched for the sixth Vermba in the boarding party. He didn’t have to worry about the screamer, though. Bichard’s high pitched roar bellowed out, and he knew the insectoid would make short work of that one.
The last Vermba cowered as his comrades fell and Blazer approached. It held up a hand, begging away in its twisted language for what seemed like mercy. What right have you to mercy? You attacked us without provocation! An image of a peaceful glade intruded on Blazer’s mind as the orbs flitted around in an attempt to calm him. Damn orbs, leave me be. He looked back at the alien, one of the orbs hovering before it, chittering away. The other remained by Blazer’s side. He began to lower his weapon. Lazith would want me to show mercy.
He began to reach for the binding straps on his hip to take the Vermba prisoner, but then the image of his grandmother, Kamden Krain, appeared before him. His eyes flew wide with rage as he spotted the knife in the alien’s hidden hand. Blazer grabbed the creature’s outstretched hand and discharged. He pumped every spare erg of energy in his body into the being. A cloud of immolated flesh wafted up to fog his helmet, and when he finally released the alien’s hand, he found little more than a blackened skull looking back at him.
He turned, rage still boiling inside him, and found Arion staring back at him, mouth agape. He had no time for Arion’s protests. “Free the crew,” he called out and turned back towards Lazith’s body.
All the anger and rage flowed away in an instant leaving nothing behind. Nothing. Numbly he walked toward Lazith, removing his helmet. The pungent odor of melted flesh and ozone assaulted his nostrils, but he didn’t care. The others raced to free the crew, but he could focus only on Lazith’s limp form.
The captain’s voice rang out a moment later. “Everyone to your stations. We need to go, now!”
The crew leapt to his bidding—the chief engineer running back to the engine room.
“What’s the status of their flotilla?” the captain asked, but Blazer remained standing over Lazith’s body, his knees threatening to give way.
“Vaughnt! What’s the status of their flotilla?”
Blazer turned to the captain, the old man’s wrists still bearing the bruises of his bindings, and what Blazer could only assume was Vermba blood. He looked up and saw Bichard waiting behind the captain, his resin blades coated with gore. “Disabled, sir,” Blazer managed to reply, returning his focus to the older man. “All four ships are disabled and floundering.”
“Good. We need to move. Now!”
Arion leapt down from his position by the door. “Sir, what about what just happened here…”
“There was a firefight and Vaughnt downed three hostiles. That’s what happened here,” the captain replied, fixing everyone on the bridge with a stare that told them not to question his declaration or Blazer’s actions.
Blazer couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else as he knelt down beside Lazith and pulled her body toward his. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He and Lazith were still supposed to have the next few tridecacycles together before he and his team shipped out for the Space Forces Academy. Peeling off his gloves, he reached down to touch the intact portion of her face. It was still warm and he resisted the urge to save her. He still loved Lazith, but she was gone. Never again, I’ll never again let down a person I love like this.
UCSB DATE: 1001.002
Anul System, Anul, Midduwn-Capben Highway
Marda took a deep lungful of the clean, crisp Anul air as she lounged in the passenger seat of Blazer’s old grav car, with Blazer at the wheel. She relished the purity of the air here. Even with its forests and botanical gardens, the academy always smelt of air recyclers. The scenery of the highway also served to soothe her, but she noted with a pang of regret the lack of the wedding clasp on her hand. Regulations forbade cadets from getting married in their first annura at the academy. Their families had even commented that their eight tridec courtship wasn’t long enough. Blazer’s grandfather had remarked that the aftermath of the enemy attack on their academy, that killed several of their fellow cadets, hastened their decision to wed.
She didn’t want to dwell on that, though. The Dask of Outcome celebration was just what she needed after the battle a decle and a half ago. She looked up to the sky. We lost too many in the fighting. After what happened, I’m not sure who will return. Gavit was so shaken up by Seri’s death. Then there were all those others who resigned, cadets who weren’t even involved in the battle… Shaking her head, she cast all that aside and thought back to the celebrations.
Her uncle had managed to get out of the hospital last cycle, right before dusk, thanks to an anti-microbial screen that proved to out any chance of reinfection. Being stuck indoors was against the spirit of the holy dask that commemorated Drig’s opening of the domes protecting the citizens of the Anul after The Great Death, millennia before. Blazer and his family even came up to join hers, just outside the old capital of Midduwn.
An unexpected turn off the main highway south of the Barrier Mountains around Midduwn pulled her back from her musing. “Why are we going this way?” she asked, sitting up. The foothills of the Heshin Mountains rose before them.
Blazer kept his eyes on the road, the autodrive on his vehicle disabled, but she caught the hint of a smile creep onto his lips. “Well, normally it takes two hects to get back to Capben.”
Marda nodded. They’d flown in from the academy to the Spaceport in Blazer’s hometown.
“I thought we could take a detour through the Heshin Mountains.”
I like where this is going. She
considered saying something as Blazer took the next turn and noticed the subtle lingering of his eyes on his own left hand. She’d been so busy the last few cycles, but thinking back on it, she realized he’d done the same thing the whole time. Her hearts swelled at the thought that he felt the same disappointment as she.
“I’ve booked us a room at a bed and breakfast up there. It has an orb shield around it,” he continued with a grin.
Marda smiled back at him as she cast aside any doubt about their postponed, in her mind, wedding. “Just the two of us?”
“Just the two of us,” Blazer replied with a wicked grin, taking a moment to look her up and down.
Marda leaned across the seat and kissed him, releasing a heavy breath into his ear. “Anything else?”
“Dinner, a room, breakfast, and then we can head onto Capben after the dawn.”
She loved the sound of that. “Okay, Mister Vaughnt. Let’s see how you’re going to play this.” She leaned back in her seat, teasing him with a good view of her breasts before readjusting her strap and taking his hand. “Let’s go.”
Heshin Mountains
The drive up to Heshin took two hects thanks to light traffic. Marda didn’t mind at all, as they climbed up through the winding mountain roads. She loved watching the foliage change, trees of the lowlands giving way to more hearty high-altitude winter green varieties. As they climbed further, dustings of snow began to cling to the branches around them. The winter view made Marda gasp.
Twinkling artificial lights and holographic inspirational quotes in honor of the Dask of Outcome hung from several of the trees as they approached the town. Between the lines of tree trunks, she glimpsed skiers enjoying the snowcapped peaks. Real snow again, thank God. How long has it been - an annura or more? What I wouldn’t give for the academy to change up the weather from time to time.
She tugged down the cute, puffy hat Blazer had bought her as a Dask of Outcome gift. I wondered why he got me this. Clever boy. She tugged at a lock of her hair and tried to focus on it. It was still short. Snap out of it, girl. You haven’t obsessed about your hair since first flight, why think about it now? Long hair will only get in the way when we get back and start Special Operations training. But still. She looked over at Blazer, remembered how long her hair had been when they’d met, how much he had liked it. Maybe I should have gotten a wig, like Chris.