Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (61 page)

Still, historically sweet as this moment may have been, for Masterson, it came as little consolation for the news he’d received from Myrick 4, or for the lives lost there—one of which weighed on him far heavier than anyone could ever know.

“Commandant, sir?” a blond major asked from tactical, snapping Masterson from his trance. “Something is happening with the Auran fleet.”

“Report,” Masterson ordered.

“Several of their ships are being redirected to zone 46-Delta for an apparent assault on the Crimson.” The major looked up. “The rest are retreating, sir.”

Stroking the whiskers of his silvery black beard, Masterson’s gray eyes narrowed, his bittersweet mood shifting momentarily to puzzlement.

“You can’t be serious, Katahl,” he muttered, fully aware that the Aurans had nowhere near the firepower left for a run on a ship the size of his carrier. So why sack the ships if only to retreat?

No matter, he concluded. At this point, his enemies were outgunned three to one, which meant that any further resistance after today would be an exercise in futility… not that he had any intention of giving them even that chance. The time had come to end this, once and for all, and these traitors would pay dearly for what they’d taken from him today.

“Colonel Strouder,” Masterson barked, slamming a finger on the comm panel of his chair. “The enemy appears to be repositioning itself for an assault on your position. I’m redeploying all available ships to assist. Deal with the immediate threat as swiftly as possible, and then proceed after the retreating ships.”

“With respect, sir,” said the colonel, “are we not to proceed to Kendara? If we—”

“
The mine can wait!
” the commandant sneered back, his icy-calm facade showing the briefest of cracks under his ever-mounting grief. “I want these people broken, is that clear?
This war ends today!
”

“
Yes sir!
”

“No mistakes, Colonel! Kamuir out.”

****

Powering his Mako toward the war zone’s outer edge, Lee fought to hold his concentration over the anarchic mayhem surrounding him, both in and out of the cockpit. Silencing the former with a final adjustment to his fire controls, he watched in horror through his canopy as the four remaining Hit Squad Threshers held deadlocked in their defensive formation around him, their hulls ablaze in a deluge of weapons fire so thick it was almost blinding. With Link and Hamish stuck on point, that left Mac’s Mako as the only one among them that was free to operate offensively, and breaking from his instruments long enough to glance her way, Lee marveled at the ferocity with which she did exactly that.

Swooping and swirling through the black with a grace surpassed only in spectacle by the lethality of her assault, Mac tore through the enemy’s opposition, turning back wave after wave and Phantom after Phantom, all completely on her own and with no support from the rest of the squad—who were in no position to render assistance. Still, fast as she was, she was by no means invincible, and Lee’s heart wrenched when her Mako took a hard shot to its port side, stunning it for a moment before it could recover to stay with the pack.

Several heart-pumping seconds later, the madness around Lee eventually gave way to calm when Ryan gave the order to break formation, launching the squad into a star-patterned climb before looping and leveling out into a defensive line ahead of his position.

“Alright, Summerston, if you’re gonna do this, it’s gotta be now,” called the captain, and feeling his fighter come to a complete standstill—his engines cooled and his heart all but in his throat—Lee waited for Mac’s signal, inhaled a breath, and engaged the drive.

****

The blinding flash filled the Mako’s canopy like a shroud, engulfing it in a magnificent vale of blue before quickly dissolving the endless void of space into the nauseatingly tight confines of a gaping, metallic chamber. Recoiling from the sudden pang of claustrophobia that hit him, Lee followed the length of the four-story hall with his eyes, inspecting every inch of its grate and wire-covered interior before locating his objective; a giant, pulsating component at the center of the section. Clutching his knotted stomach, Lee’s gaze fell to the scene below, where dozens of gray-uniformed personnel stared up in amazement, their eyes fixed on the silver-winged intruder that had literally just appeared out of thin air into the atrium above their heads. Their stillness was short-lived however, as it quickly morphed into mass hysteria.

“
Security!
” an officer screamed, pushing through the scattering scrum like one of a thousand ants in a soon-to-be-cherrybombed anthill.

Instantly gripped with panic, Lee froze.

Then, inexplicably—as if struck by some great, earth-shattering revelation that would henceforth reshape the very foundation of human understanding forever—it hit him… there wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do about it. He was inside their ship, which meant that if they took any sort of aggressive action against him whatsoever, he wouldn’t have to blow the core to detonate the carrier… they’d do it for him.

Of course, there was still the matter of Lee’s redlined hyperdrive to contend with, and whether or not it could withstand another pounding of radiation on the way back out, but right here and right now, he held all the cards. Better yet, the looks on his enemies’ faces said that they knew it, too.

His previously nervewracked sense of fright now relaxed to a strange, almost euphoric calm, Lee looked down to see a group of armed guards scurry into view—their rifles raised in a hollow threat of force—only to be waved off by a frantic engineer whose lips mouthed an emphatic “
Do you want to get us all killed?
”

Amused by this, Lee shot them a wry smile before turning his attention to the observation room glass ahead, and the two dozen sets of mortified eyes now gawking back at him. They had absolutely no clue what was coming. For that matter, though, neither did he, given the borderline status of his fighter… but that was okay.

She was safe now—they all were—and for Lee Summerston, who wouldn’t have traded his time with any of them for all of the money, tenure, and career prestige in the world, that was good enough.

Then, with a finger on the trigger and two more in the air—forming a peace sign that signified anything but—Lee closed his eyes, thought of the woman he loved, and pulled.

“Ruah.”

****

Mac watched helplessly from her cockpit as the vibrant, pulsating blast-wave surged from the carrier, lighting up the space ahead of her like a newly formed star and disintegrating every Alystierian ship in its wake, just as Lee had predicted. Her trembling fingers still clamped around the flight stick and her face drenched in a cold sweat, she looked on with heart-stopping anticipation as the thunderous ballet of orange, yellow, and red swirled in spectacular fashion through the heavens, though to her, these colors meant nothing. The only ones she longed for now were the bright blue of hyperspace, and the breathtaking flash of silver that everything within her yearned to see emerge from it.

Leaning forward in her seat, eyes glistening and squinting in search of these two simple colors that now meant everything to her, Mac stared breathless into the starry horizon as, on the comm behind her, the jubilant Praetorian crew erupted in triumph.

****

“What’s happening?” Danny shouted, sprinting out of the lift toward the communications station on the Praetorian’s bridge. “Where is he?”

The brunette comm officer shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s been no contact from Daredevil since the Crimson went up.”

Having risen from his chair upon seeing the young man enter, Katahl stepped to Danny’s side and saw his expression plummet.

“I’m so sorry, son,” said the admiral. “I can’t tell you how...”

His words faded to an inaudible blur after the first sentence.

For the next minute—one that rivaled his mom’s passing as the longest of his life—Daniel Tucker felt his mind retreat into itself, the scene around him falling inconsequentially away amid a pummeling rush of disbelief and senseless regret. Meanwhile, on the bridge behind him, the celebration roared on, otherwise unaffected.

****

“Mac?” Danny’s shaky voice trickled across her comm. “Mac, please talk to me.”

There was no response.

Staring blankly through the saline—the last ounces of her composure now officially gone—Mac quivered in her seat as, in a time-halting instant of cruel reality, the debilitating truth of Lee’s absence slowly took hold, the one that said, “He’s not coming back to you… not this time.”

That was when the levee of emotion that had welled up inside of Evelyn McKinsey broke.

From the cockpit of the Tuskan, Link and Hamish watched, fraught with concern, as a spastic Mac—now lost in a volcano of grief— ripped the helmet from her head, slammed it against the dash, and unleashed a single, agonized scream into the silent black beyond.

****

Rising from her station to celebrate with her colleagues, the comm officer found her attention jerked abruptly back to her terminal by the faint sound of a single, electronic ping.

“Admiral!” her voice trailed upward as, down the hall, a bloody hand jarred the lift doors back open.

“What is it, Floyd?” Katahl asked from his chair.

“Sir, we’ve got…” She double-checked her display. “… Incoming?”

****

Alone and shivering in her cockpit, Mac jerked alert at the sudden chirp of her instruments. Her face pale and flushed from several minutes of sobbing, she peered through the watery prisms of her eyes to see a tiny streak of electricity crackle in the distance. Then, leaning forward and daring to hope, Mac surged with emotion when it ignited before her, producing the magnificent blue cloud she’d so desperately prayed for, and the one and only sight that could’ve set her world right again: a lone silver fighter, rocketing free of its epicenter.

“Flight, this is Daredevil.”

“
HEEEELLLLLLL YEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!
” the Tuskan erupted, and as if coming up for a final, life-saving gasp of air, Mac blew out a sigh of sweet, soulful relief.

“Daredevil, this is flight,” Danny blurted past the comm officer. “It is
damn good
to see you, bro!”

“Thanks, Danny,” said Lee. “Sorry for all the suspense, but that last jump outta the Crimson got a bit hairy. Honestly, I still don’t have a clue where I just was,” he chuckled, “but thankfully I was alone because it took me a bit to reboot the system and dig the right return coordinates outta the nav history. Anyway, better late than never, right?”

“Amen to that,” Danny sighed. “Believe me, we’re just glad you could make it.”

Lee grinned from his seat at the Mako ahead of him. “Yeah well, I have it on pretty good authority that nothin’ pisses a girl off like a guy who doesn’t keep his promises, and I kinda had one of those to keep, myself.”

An adorable giggle snorted free of Mac’s sniffling.

“Yes you did, my friend,” Danny agreed. “Now enough with the small talk, already! Rumor has it there’s about to be one helluva party on this boat, so you freaks kick it in gear and get your butts on deck. If memory serves, Ryan’s got first round.”

“Say no more, Flight,” Link exclaimed, firing up the Tuskan’s boosters to move out. “Bust out the Scotch, and hide the women and children, because Jester and Wulver are inbound and up to the task!”

Navigating the mob of elated engineers, officers, fellow pilots and crewmen to set down on the Praetorian’s flight deck, Lee was barely able to disembark before being mugged by the raucous crowd of his peers, all of whom waited eagerly to pay their respects to these five unlikely heroes. Scanning the bay around him for any sign of Mac, Lee dismounted from his cockpit and pushed through the excited crowd to find Hamish and Link already basking in the glory of the moment with a group of ecstatic deckhands at the foot of the Tuskan’s boarding ramp.

“Hey Hamish, look who decided to drop in,” Link grunted, slugging the Scot in the arm to get his attention. “Thanks for giving us all a heart attack out there, Top. Could you keep things a little less dramatic next time?”

“Aye, Lee,” Hamish agreed. “I’ve had ma fill of close calls for one day, if ya don’t mind.”

“Sorry about that, fellas,” Lee shrugged, craning his neck over the masses before eventually spotting the second Mako across the hangar.

“Hey, Tiny,” Layla called out, emerging from the crowd to stand in front of Link, who braced himself for yet another hostile encounter. “Those were some pretty impressive moves out there today.”

Already primed for a snarky retort, Link’s face twisted in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah,” he stuttered. “Well, ya know. Good teachers and all that.”

Lee and Hamish exchanged glances.

“Yeah well, thanks for saving my ass out there, alright?”

Then the tall, leggy pilot did something no one—but especially not Link—ever expected… she smiled at him.

“Oh… yeah, no problem,” Link managed, visibly confounded. “Ya know, serve and protect and honor… and whatever…”

Locking eyes with her as she stepped past him, Link turned back to his snickering friends—his expression still filled with bewilderment—though it quickly morphed into one of pure shock when Layla’s right hand landed a playful swat to his butt on her way back into the crowd.

Lee and Hamish doubled over in hysterics.

“Don’t even think about it, bro,” Danny cautioned, sauntering past a huddle of pilots to see Link whirl on his heels in search of his former nemesis. “That girl will eat you alive.”

“Bite me, Crockett! I can hang!”

“I won’t,” Danny said coyly. “But she might.”

Wanting no part of this one, Lee turned to greet Ryan, who stepped to the forefront.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you, Summerston,” admitted the captain, “that was one seriously wild plan of yours. Truth be told, I didn’t think you had a chance in hell of getting outta there alive, but this is one instance when I’m pretty happy to have been wrong.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Lee. “I’m just glad it all played out the way we hoped.”