Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4) (52 page)

The Drasin ship minds quickly had to raise their assessment of the intruding ships from “likely dangerous” to “very possibly the most lethal enemy ever encountered by the swarm.” That shift was posing a very real problem for the local swarm at the moment, as they had a great deal of trouble believing that they had encountered an enemy more dangerous than the Original Ones.

Long in the past there had been enemies such as these, targets that were not only able to fight back, but actually cut through the swarm like a pulsar blast. Those times had long since gone, however, and those enemies had fallen in a time so long ago that even the swarm’s inherited memories were foggy on the precise period.

In those days the taking of a star was a massive endeavor, something that could cost millions of ships. One time the cost had been so incalculably high that it resulted in an actual change in swarm priorities. The originators had given the swarm the gift of changing their methods in extreme cases, and that time qualified.

The new standing order was, if any local swarm were to encounter such a system again, it was to flee on sight.

The cost associated with destroying such a system had once nearly broken the swarm forever, something previously believed impossible.

The ship minds were not convinced that this was the case just yet, however, no matter how lethal these new ships were proving to be. That system had been surrounded by defenses ten thousand layers thick, and protected by a veritable swarm of its own.

This was seven ships and one solitary planet.

It was not even remotely in the same galaxy as the Original Enemies.

The decisions were made, tactics chosen, and the swarm warped space powerfully as they flung themselves up the gravity well of the local star and toward the threat of the newly arrived ships.

Behind it, the planet
burned
.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“ALRIGHT, SHUT YOUR mouths and listen up!” Ronald Blake snarled, ending all conversation in the hangar the group was sheltering in. “The captain has something to say.”

Eric nodded to his old friend and stepped up onto an old munitions crate so everyone could see him. He idly supposed that it would have been more poetic if it were a soapbox, but all the same there was still a certain degree of poetic justice in making a speech from an ammo box.

“As of fifteen minutes ago a miracle happened,” he told them dryly, his tone dark enough to prevent anyone from remotely getting their hopes up. “The President of the Confederation and the leadership of the Block actually agreed on something. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, they agreed that it was time to stop holding back and have ordered the deployment of strategic weapons against the Drasin.”

There was a long silence when he stopped speaking, and Eric let it run for many seconds.

“That means that within the next four hours, we and the Block will begin
nuking
our own territories where they have
been infected by the aliens . . . and,” Eric said grimly, “
everywhere
has been infected by the Drasin.”

He brought both his hands up, palms forward to stall the screaming. The men and women he was commanding were
not
Special Forces, nor even active serving military for the most part. They were cops, former military, National Guardsmen, and even a few civilians too stubborn to run and hide when confronted with a nightmare. They took the news as he expected, angrily and with a great deal of worry for the people they’d left behind.

“Major cities are
not
on the current target list,” he said, “nor are the many refugee areas that have sprung up in the last few weeks. We have enough forces in those areas to hammer them back the old-fashioned way, but both sides have elected to begin dropping heavy ordnance on the enemy pretty much everywhere else. Warnings will be issued, evacuations ordered, but if there are still people there when the clock hits zero . . . too bad for them.”

Now there was less outrage, thankfully, but no less shock. He could understand that. He himself was still working through that stage of his reaction, if he were to be honest. Shock he could work with, shock he could turn into determination.

“So we have a job now,” he said. “Same mission, new tactics. The U.S. and Block military forces are launching the first, largest, and probably only joint tactical operation in our history. Our job is to get eyes on the ground and either hammer the enemy into dust, or call on tactical and strategic weapons to do it for us. The more we take out the old-fashioned way, the fewer mushroom clouds we’ll see blotting out the Sun.”

He looked around the group slowly. “We’re here to save the planet, and every living person in it . . . be it from the
aliens, or from ourselves . . . Anyone here feel like saying no?”

There was a long silence as he waited for a response. With none coming, Eric nodded. “Alright. We’re splitting up the band. You’ll each get your marching orders in the next twenty. Grab some real grub ’cause you’ll be sucking suit slurpies for the next little while.”

The group broke up as Eric turned back and hopped off the box.

Ron came up to him, stone-faced. “Cap . . .”

“New York isn’t on the target list, Ron,” Eric answered, clapping a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “She’s as safe as can be.”

Ron nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything, didn’t have to.” Eric smiled a little soberly. “You all did. New York is in shambles, but it’s human controlled. You did that. You made her safer. Are you up to doing the same for some other people?”

“You know I am, Captain.”

“Good,” Eric said firmly, “you get your own squad. Orders will be sent to your suit before you’re wheels up, but you already know what you have to do.”

Ron nodded, throwing him a salute before he pivoted on his heel and walked away. Eric watched him go for a moment before returning his mind to his own tasks. He made his way over to where Alexander and Janet were leaning against the wall, the matched pair having watched the entire scene in silence.

“Nice speech, boss,” Alexander told him with a grin. “Have one for us too?”

“You two don’t need a speech. You’re both crazy enough to do this job for the fun of it.” Eric rolled his eyes.

Janet laughed outright, nodding. “You know us too well, Cap. You splitting us up?”

“Hell no. You two work good together, and I can’t guarantee that anyone else I put you with will. One of you is in command, the other is second. Work it out between you,” Eric said calmly. He’d never normally do anything that casual with the chain of command, but he knew both of them well enough to trust them to do their job and probably be better at it than anything he could hope to devise.

They normally flipped a coin to see who was in command of a given mission, and had been doing it since shortly after they met. Officially he supposed that one of them had seniority, but he couldn’t be bothered to check which. They were a matched pair and they were a law unto themselves, and that was the way things were.

He was just a captain. Some laws of the universe were beyond his ability to control and he wasn’t stupid enough to tell the Sun to set in the morning.

“We’ll do what we have to, boss,” Alexander said, Janet nodding in agreement. “You have any specific orders?”

“Not yet. Still gathering intel. I’ll send it straight to your suits.”

“Right. We’ll be getting ready then,” Janet said, grabbing Alexander’s arm and hauling him physically away. Eric just smiled fondly as they left.

“What about me, love?”

Eric didn’t turn around at the sound of the purring voice. He just shook his head equally fondly and spoke. “I want you to get online with your contacts, Siobhan. We need intel. I want to know everything you can learn. Relay it to Lyssa. She’ll be in charge of coordinating our movements.”

Siobhan stepped up close behind him, draping herself across his shoulder as she spoke into his ear. “The little girl? Can she handle the responsibility?”

“This little girl can handle a hell of a lot more than that,” Lyssa said in an irritated voice.

“Hmmm,” Siobhan hummed, not sounding in the least intimidated. “Her ears aren’t half bad either. Not her best assets, mind you, but not half bad.”

Eric could almost feel the heat wafting off of Lyssa and barely managed to hide the smile he felt trying to burst through. This was one of the few things he missed about wetwork, the more relaxed environment of working with equals.

“Lyss,” he said, cutting into the burgeoning argument, “you’re my eyes and ears here on the base.”

He turned around. “I need someone here I trust, because if the brass is willing to bust out strategic weapons on our own territory, they’ll also be willing to drop those same assets on the heads of me and
mine
. If you get the slightest inkling that’s going to happen, I want you to pull any teams in the target zone out.”

Lyssa nodded slowly. “You think they’d do that?”

“You can bet that they’ll be dropping those things on civilians, Lyss,” Eric said seriously. “There’s no way to clear all affected areas . . . so yeah, I think they wouldn’t think twice about dropping one on one of ours.”

“Alright. You’ve got it,” Lyssa said determinedly. “I won’t let you down.”

“Nor will I, love,” Siobhan winked at him. “I want you back in one piece, after all. We have a tradition to uphold.”

Lyssa looked between them, confused. “What kind of tradition?”

“The clothing optional kind, sweety.” Siobhan patted her on the cheek. “If you’re good, you can join in.”

Eric just sighed and left while Lyssa was turning purple and choking on some choice words he’d not heard since boot.