The Terran who had just walked through the door kicked aside Lucience’s pistol, letting it slide across the smooth floor. The Commander raised his eyes weakly, his breath already failing as his lungs filled with blood, and stared into the face of the second shooter. Raising his gun, Siros, the former bodyguard to the Uligart Alcent, fired round after round into the inert Commander’s body, continuing to fire until the bolt on his pistol locked to the rear and smoke rolled from his barrel. Lowering his pistol, Siros turned to Adam, a sneer painted on his face.
“I warned him,” Adam said with a shrug.
As Adam stripped out of the Terran Empire uniform, Siros retrieved one of the hand-held displays and began accessing the files. Nodding in appreciation as he heard Siros’ fingers fly across the keyboard, Adam removed the heavy armor and helmet. By the time he was pulling his own coat from the pack on his back, Siros looked up from the display with a smile.
“Got them,” he said, the excitement apparent.
“Both codes?” Adam asked.
“I can get us into the hangar and send the correct codes to get into the hangar bay on the Ballistae,” Siros explained. “Once we’re there, it’s your show again.”
The pair of Terrans grabbed the discarded rifles from the bodyguards and ran back out the front door without so much as a glance of disdain of the slain Commander.
The gunfight continued even as Keryn and Alcent approached the warehouses. The Terran forces had been slaughtered, leaving only pocket resistance. However, many had the same plan that she and her forces did: escape from the planet. Even with their defenses, though, they were quickly overcome as Adam and the rest of the Saboteurs approached from different angles, trapping the Terrans in a crossfire.
Siros entered the code into the first warehouse and, with a rumble, the large bay doors slid open. As the shafts of light from the revolutionaries’ flashlights danced into the large bay, a stifled cheer erupted from the remaining. Docked within the bay, two large Terran transports sat like solemn metal giants, dwarfing the survivors as they ran inside. Keryn flipped the light switch once the group entered, bathing the ships in warm halogen light. She had waited until everyone was inside not just to ensure the doors were sealed behind them, but to find out how many remained in her force. Her estimates said that there were nearly two thousand Othus survivors when Penchant killed the first Terran earlier that morning. Less than two hundred revolutionaries passed through the large warehouse doors in order to board the Terran transports. Keryn knew that many more remained in the rubble fields, either wounded or unwilling to advance across the ruins out of fear. For those that didn’t make it to the warehouses, they would surely die. Again, she felt the weight of responsibility rest heavily on her shoulders.
Turning away from the door, Keryn ran toward the nearest ship, whose personnel hatch was now opened. Adam stood by the entrance, smiling broadly. As she approached, he engulfed her in a powerful hug. She let herself melt into his embrace, but pushed away as he squeezed too hard on her broken rib. Sucking in wind, he stared at her, concerned.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Go get the overhead doors open and let’s get off this planet.”
Adam ran off, finding the controls and engaging the retractable ceiling. As the two halves of the roof retracted, snow cascaded into the lit bay. Keryn watched it fall, magically sparkling in the halogen light. She hoped that once they were off Othus, she never, ever saw snow again.
As Adam climbed aboard, Keryn gave the thumbs up to Alcent, who piloted the second transport. Feeling the engines rumbling underneath, Keryn settled into the pilot’s chair, feeling at home as her hands slid across the console and control panel. Activating the displays, Keryn watched as Alcent’s ship vanished through the roof. Igniting her own engines, her transport lifted off from the concrete floor, flying gracefully through the retracted ceiling and quickly gaining altitude.
“Entering the atmosphere,” the radio called as Alcent’s craft passed beyond the gloomy clouds that encircled the planet.
“Prepare for atmosphere burn,” Keryn called to her own bridge crew, which included Adam and a couple of Avalons she didn’t know.
The ship shook as the forward displays turned red from friction. The blockish transports caused such heavy gravities as they passed through the atmosphere that even the inhibitors couldn’t compensate. Keryn groaned as she felt the pressure on her chest as the weight pushed downward on her broken rib. Shortly after, however, the transport broke through the atmosphere and the starlit void of space dominated the view screen. Keryn couldn’t hide her smile as she looked upon the view. She had almost forgotten how much she loved the freedom of space travel. Glancing to her right, she saw the same exhilaration mirrored on Adam’s face.
As Keryn turned the transport and began following Alcent, another view dominated the screen: the Terran Destroyer. The smile quickly faded from Keryn’s face as she saw the countless missile ports and rail guns bristling along the elongated ship.
“Sending access codes,” the radio said. Almost as an afterthought, Alcent added, “Wish us luck.” He left the communications channel open as he sent the codes, and Siros’ voice rang over the radio. “Ballistae, this is transport vessels AX-04 and AX-05 requesting immediate docking. We’re carrying countless wounded from Miller’s Glen that require immediate medical aid. I am forwarding the access codes for our vessels.”
The crews of both ships held their combined breath as the seconds ticked by and the Destroyer grew ever closer. She was close enough to see the dark black letters of the word Ballistae on the hull of the ship before they finally got their answer. On the port side of the ship, a hangar bay hatch slid open, inviting both transports.
As the two ships entered the side of the Terran Destroyer, Keryn turned to Adam. “Let’s go claim our prize.”
CHAPTER 26:
“Spin number two,” Warrant Iana Morven yelled to the fighter pilot as she stood in front of the craft. The second of the two automatic weapons spun without its ammunition loaded, an audible whir filling the cubicle in which the fighter sat.
Iana flashed the thumbs up. “Looks good. Go ahead and power her down.”
Turning, she ran headlong into Yen, who had been standing behind her with his arms folded behind him. Stepping back, she braced in a quick salute, which he returned before a wide grin broke across his face.
“You really are a jerk,” she said, playfully punching him in the arm. “You could have warned me that you were there.”
“And miss out on that irritated expression?” he replied. “Not in a million years.”
The Uligart pilot left the fighter and walked up beside Iana, laughing to himself. Reaching out his hand, he shook Yen’s, nodding in respect to the senior officer.
“And you could have warned me too, Gregario,” she said, punching him as well.
“He told me not to,” answered Warrant Pelasi, gesturing toward the Squadron Commander. “You don’t really expect me to disobey a direct order, do you?”
“Men,” she grumbled to herself as the trio stepped away from the fighter and walked through the cavernous hangar bar.
“How are the ships looking?” Yen asked as they passed a line of the dart-like Duun fighters.
“They’re immaculate,” Iana responded, “just as they always are. You wouldn’t have expected any less after ordering me to do another inspection, would you?”
Yen shook his head as the trio stopped. He watched as one of the lifters loaded crates of ammunition into the back of one of the Cair personnel carriers. Large enough for an assault team, the Cair transports were some of the most instrumental ships in the Squadron. Yen, however, still found pleasure in flying one of the more heavily armed Duun fighters.