Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (44 page)

69.

The broken landscape was littered with the debris left behind by the horde, the cast-off gear they no longer needed. Twice we met with rear guard patrols, their purpose unknown. We didn’t stop long enough to ask – we simply killed them and moved on. We passed another of Alexander’s scouts, fallen to a bowshot.

By the time we reached the university, the first line of defence had fallen. The horde had climbed the outer buildings and overrun the defenders there. The only silver-lining was their victory had driven them mad with bloodlust. They no longer cared to secure their rear, and we were able to slip in through a breach left unguarded. Luckily, a hidden entrance that Alexander had shown us had also gone unnoticed.

Inside the second line of defence, the civilians cowered in fear. The throngs of people were passing slowly toward the inner university grounds. The hundreds of families huddled and wept, ash stained faces turned muddy by tears.

We met with Alexander before the university proper, waiting for us by the entrance.

“I’m glad you made it back.” he said, taking my hand in gratitude.

“And you,” I nodded, “you should try and get some rest.”

“Not a chance, I’ll be joining the wall shortly. I just wanted to make sure you knew I made it back. Thanks to you and your men. I see now that the stories about the Protectorate weren’t true. At least, not when you are concerned.”

I smiled at him, and clasped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck.” I said as he dashed off again.

We entered the tower and made our way up, collecting Rego and Tac as we did. Artemis was already with Osiris.

“You’ve returned.” he said, nodding at me as we entered his chamber. He was speaking with one of his men, who left as we approached.

“The Sectis is dead. Time to honour our agreement.” I said.

“What did you think of it?”

“It was a nightmare. I prefer not to think about it, actually.”

He smiled at me. “Did you learn what you sought to learn?”

“I did. Art?”

She opened the case containing the Jump Gate, retrieving a coil of cables wreathed in tiny filaments. She walked over to a wall and used several metal pinions to attach it. She motioned me to approach.

“How’s this going to work?” I asked.

“This is much like when you use Spatial Translation, only instead of focusing them on yourself, use your nanites to affect these filaments.”

I regarded the spindly adornments. They were like needles of glass, with faintly glowing tips.

“How do you mean, affect the filaments?” I asked, after a few moments.

She took a moment to answer. “You focus on the filaments, instead of yourself.”

I turned to look at her. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” she looked somewhat worried.

“That’s all you know about how this works?”

“Apparently, when your nanites interact with these filaments, they’ll know what to do. They’ll sync with the device and I can activate it using this.” She hefted a small remote. “The sister gate should already be on, they’ll link up and open.”

“
Naga-zak
, a moment.” said Kekkin, gesturing me over to one side.

“What’s up?”

“More armed men have entered the compartment. They are arrayed in a covering formation.”

I glanced about me, noting that he was right. Soldiers had been entering and leaving since we had arrived, but more had been staying. They were not engaged in any activity beyond forming up on various parts of the room. I looked over at Osiris. He was conversing once more with one of his soldiers.

“What’s going on here?” I asked Artemis. She was trying not to meet my gaze.

“I’m sorry.” she said, drawing her sidearm.

I turned to face Osiris, who was approaching from across the compartment.

“What’s the meaning of this?” I accused.

“We’ve come to an agreement – Ms. Derris and I. We feel that the terms of our prior arrangement put too much at stake. The job, Mr Donovan, is everything. You of all people should know that by now.”

I felt my blood run cold.

“What’s he talking about, Artemis?” I said, my eyes not leaving Osiris.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, “He’s right. I can’t risk keeping the portal open for so long. It could create instabilities in the link. Only Osiris and the men in this room will be leaving. That’s the best I can do.”

“Bullshit. We can do this. We have time.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t allow it.”

“Then I won’t open it.” I said, resolute as I stared down at her.

She looked at me, then. I could see the mixed emotions playing across her face. Anger, frustration, fear. Sadness. “Please. Don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not going to let it go down like this. Not now.” I said. Osiris watched the two of us, while the rest of Naga Team kept a close eye on the armed men surrounding us.

Artemis aimed her sidearm at my face. “Open it.”

“No.”

“I’ll shoot you.”

“No you won’t. Besides getting you nowhere, I know you now. You care. You know this is the right thing to do. It’s worth the risk. This man isn’t,” I gestured at Osiris, “but those people out there dying – they are.”

I saw her gun waiver, her face clouded with emotion.

“Goddamn it.” she whispered. She lowered her gun, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You did your best, girl.” said Osiris, putting a hand on her shoulder as he stepped behind her, “It was worth a shot.”

She suddenly jerked, her sidearm clattering to the floor. She folded down and into my arms, as Osiris stepped back from her, a bloody blade protruding from a recess in the heel of his palm. I heard Naga Team raise their weapons, there were several warning voices about the room – calls to hold fire. Osiris, grinning like the devil while his blade slowly retracted into his wrist, held his hands up in supplication. Artemis lay in my arms, pale and clammy to the touch.

“I’m going to kill you.” I said through clenched teeth.

“Not today. Open the portal, boy. I’ll take her with me and make sure she gets the medical treatment she needs to live. I give you my word.”

“Your word doesn’t mean spit.”

“Nevertheless, I give it. Open the portal, and she will live. Stall, and she will bleed out in your arms.”

My head swam. The voices of all those that had died to get us here were reaching out from the grave to accuse me. Accuse me of failure. I shook my head to clear it, looking down at Artemis. Her eyelids were fluttering. She was awake, but barely conscious. If she died, the Dreaming would die with her. And so would the rest of us.

I made a decision, then. I reached out with my senses, my digital senses. I felt for the filaments, seeking anything strange about them. Instantly, I could feel them – a pull on the nanites like a magnet. I recalled the sensation I felt when I shifted through a Jump Gate while outside the Dreaming, the way reality just peeled back from perception. I recalled the drawing away of the nanites as they stretched through the Jump Gate to the other side of the link, seemingly through time and space. I recalled the feeling I sensed when I translated, and how it tore me temporarily though dimensional boundaries.

I nodded to Osiris, hatred in my eyes. He picked up the device that Artemis had dropped and thumbed a control. With a sound like twisting steel and cracking ice, the space between the cables warped and flashed, finally settling into the mirrored, swirling event horizon of a Jump Gate.

Men started to pour into the Gate. I rose, carrying Artemis in my arms. Osiris waited patiently by the portal.

“Don’t take it personally, boy.” he said, “You did good getting this far. Your grandfather would be proud.”

“Go to hell.” I said, then looked down at Art. I shook her gently and her eyes opened.

“Loverboy.” she said, quietly.

“The codes. For the bombs on my ship?”

She smile weakly. “No bombs, I gave you the last one for the Blade of Xerxes.”

She reached up and touched my cheek, leaving a bloody smear. I handed her to Osiris, who nodded to me.

“I’ll make sure she lives.”

“I’m still going to kill you.” I said.

“Maybe. Another time.” and he stepped through the ring. It snapped shut behind him, leaving us in the gloom of the chamber.

No one said anything for a long time.

To be continued…

About the Author

Jim works in the biomedical engineering industry as an electronics engineer, but somehow finds the time to write books. His love of storytelling, his fascination with science fiction and his military background blend together to create an authentic writing style drawing from his own experiences, and his vivid imagination.

He lives an hour outside of Sydney, Australia, with his lovely partner Jess and their six dogs – Kale, Snowy, Muffin, Cookie, Mooncakes and Waffles.

Please enjoy the follow chapters from Book 3 of the Seth Donovan Novels: Frontier’s End

1.

I had never known death as I knew it that day. The day my perception of reality was irrevocably changed.

We were young, full of courage and stupidity in equal measures. We thought we were heroes, riding that assault shuttle down to Ambrose Station. A dozen Primacy Star Marines, the finest fighting force in the Votus-Eridani Network, charged on combat stims and pumped for war. We were certain in our superiority, our fighting prowess, our advanced technology, and our sheer numbers. We knew that with our brothers at our sides, the alien Ghantri were no match for us.

We were fools.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

“You looking at me like that because you want to kiss me, Corporal?” growled Sergeant Walter “Crazy Eight” Germaine the Eighth.

“No, sarge,” I grinned, “Just admiring how mean you look in your shiny new armour. How long were you polishing it last night?”

“Longer than I polished your mum, last time I was in port.”

The rest of the squad burst out into laughter. During a drop, nerves were always raw. The sarge and I had this old routine – we would take turns insulting one another in front of the troops. Took their minds off the fact they were about to face their possible deaths.

“At your age, sarge, I’m impressed. I’ve heard my mum is something of a wildcat on the frontier. You sure you’re man enough for a corsair woman?”

He growled at me. “Eh, you frontiersmen always think you’re something special. Hides the fact that you’re the equivalent of old Earth goat herders.”

“Space goats, Walt. They’re called space goats now.”

The angry red light in the shuttle’s hold switched to green, and the Sergeant held a finger up to his helmet. It was a strange mannerism he just couldn’t kick – he did it whenever his comms barked out orders.

“Two minutes!” he called, all business once more. Our comedy routine was over.

I ran down the aisle, double-checking everyone’s drop brace. A rectangular brace caged each marine, with ample room to grip and hang onto. Once I was sure everyone was secure, I gave the thumbs up to Walt. I then ran down to my own spot on the barge, clipping the jetpack on my suit into the brace. I pulled the bar down over my head and gripped it tightly.

“Atmo venting! All suits on internal life support!” called Crazy Eight.

I checked a small indicator on my overlay, registering the oxygen mix in my suit.

“Comms check!” he called as the atmosphere in the compartment started to disappear.

One by one, everyone in the squad called out his or her names on the squad communications channel.

“Standby for deployment in five seconds! Four! Three! Two…”

The floor beneath out feet slid out of sight, exposing the battlefield below. The station outer surface rushed up to greet us, as bright flashes of hardlight zipped across space. The occasional explosion lit up the terrain as we dropped the final half kilometre to drop range.

“Drop!”

The inertia of the shuttle propelled us out of the hull like bombs, thrusting us directly towards the station as it braked hard. I focused entirely on my own manoeuvres – the rest of the squad would fend for themselves for the next part. I trusted their training. We
had
been trained by the galaxy’s best, after all. When the surface was less than fifty metres from me, I ignited my jetpack on full burn for two seconds, reducing it to twenty-five percent for half a second, then five percent for landing. My boots lightly touched the metal surface and my magnetics engaged. All eleven other members of the squad touched down nearby.

“Eleven o’clock!” warned one of the marines, opening up immediately with their energy rifle. I turned to see a wave of Ghantri assaulting our position.

“Casper! Fenris! Garlos! With me!” I called, pointing to a section of debris we could use as cover.

We dove over to the barrier and braced our rifles on the edge. My fireteam unleashed a torrent of hardlight towards the oncoming enemy, cutting them down one by one.

I saw the sarge grab two others and drag them towards cover while the others scattered. Enemy fire smashed into my shoulder guard, knocking my aim high. I noted with concern that my shield had done nothing to deflect the round.

“Ballistic ammo!” called Crazy Eight, grinning like a madman, “I take it back, Donny! These guys are the goat herders!”

He unslung a grenade and twisted the top off before tossing it towards the enemy line. Free of the artificial gravity, the explosive sailed right over their heads and I was about to laugh at his efforts when it exploded, damaging an antenna array. The array toppled down, pulled in by the station’s gravity field, and crashed into the ranks of the Ghantri.

The sarge didn’t miss a beat.

“Let’s go, Star Marines!” he cried as he leapt over the barricade. We followed, yelling out in defiance of the alien betrayers. The light of a stray beam weapon sweeping through space above us illuminated our charge. At the beginning, it was glorious.

Death came to us all, that day. Even me. Mine just took a lot longer to catch up to me.