Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1) (27 page)

“I love you!” Ray rushed out of the trees. The group ran toward the ship and Ga’an pushed Ray and Captain Samir up the ramp. The
Fox
armed its huge Gatling turrets with a loud mechanical noise and rained death, taking Baeal out by tens with each blast.

“We’re on board!” Ray yelled over the communicator, running to the bay door controls and closing the ramp.

“Hold on, this’ll be a
really
bumpy ride,” Sarah yelled.

The ship turned, its turrets continuing their barrage and Sarah hit the throttle. A few staff blasts landed on the plating but the armor was too thick for a hand weapon to damage the hull.

Ray and the others ran to the bridge, stumbling, taking their seats near their savior.

“The others?” Sarah asked.

Ga’an kept his silence but Captain Samir shook his head.

“All right, I’m taking over.” Ray switched controls to his console and raised the nose of the ship for an accelerated ascendance. The sudden push of the twin engines plastered them to their seats.

“Boogies!” Sarah warned from the radar screen. “Seven, twelve…Boss, they sent a whole wing!”

Purple beams rained over them, their pursuers closing in. The
Fox
had a custom shield modulator and ceytelium armor plating—not easy to find, even on the black market—but Ray didn’t know if that was enough to keep the fighters at bay.

One of the craft passed the
Fox
, maneuvering to take them head-on, not caring for the heavy turrets of the smuggler ship and blasted into pieces after a few direct hits by the auto-targeting computer.

“At least we can damage them!” Sarah yelled over the engine noise. “What’s with this insectoid look! All their craft look disgusting.”

Two main wings curved frontward like a crescent moon and two smaller wings stretching backward like reflections. The
Fox’s
fire hit the alien fighter’s left wing, causing the pilot—if there were any—to lose control. It circled to its damaged side and then exploded.

“It looks like a stone crab,” Captain Samir said.

Ray cut them both off. “I don’t care if it looked like my mama’s raisin pie! I don’t think we can outrun them all the way to the
Deviator
!” Ray shouted over the engine noise that was becoming unbearable. He pushed the
Fox
to its edge, diverting all unnecessary power to the shields and engines. Sooner or later, the engines would overheat and he’d have to slow down, which meant certain death.

“There!” Sarah pointed to a canyon formation. “We can ditch them there!”

“No!” Ray argued, “They’re both more agile than us and smaller, we’d be signing our own death warrants!”

The
Fox
trembled with a loud cracking, followed by thumb sounds.

“What was that?” Ray looked frantically at the damage control console.

“Containers in the cargo hold, we’re shaking like a cradle!” Sarah caught Darty by pure reflex, holding the cat firm. The cat looked around in horror with wide eyes, digging its nails deeper into Sarah’s arms with each blast.

“I don’t think we’ll slip through the net this time,” Captain Samir said.

Ga’an grunted. Ray couldn’t tell if he agreed or was angered by not being able to die clashing fist-to-fist. The Ancient had a strange sense of honor.

Another explosion blew the
Fox
rightward with a powerful force, and the cockpit computers flickered.

“What now!” Sarah shouted over the fuzz. “It was outside but the turrets didn’t do it!” She hit the radar screen, fiddling with its controls. “This thing’s dead!”

“I don’t know!” Ray said, glancing back at Captain Samir and Ga’an. The ancient looked fine, although he wore dried blood from himself, his enemies and Colonel Pats, mixing the blue with red. Captain Samir looked he was about to pass out; his body wasn’t handling the constant maneuvering too well.

“Thought you might need a hand,” a friendly voice boomed through the communicator. “We’ll try to hold them off, hit the throttle and make a run for the fleet.”

Ray raised his head and saw the owner of the voice; five Avatar fighters were clashing right on top of them with the crab-shaped enemy ships. They were outnumbered four-to-one but the Baeal were so focused on catching the
Fox
, they hadn’t realized they were flanked until it was too late. Before they could react, they had lost eight craft to the fighter wing’s salvo.

“You heard the man!” Ray shouted, shifting all systems’ power except life support to thrusters, jolting the ship. He visibly contracted his muscles, trying to stay conscious against the force.

“Only…a few more…seconds!” Ray snarled, fighting against the counter-force with every word.
Perhaps shifting power from the inertial dampeners was a bad idea.

The struggle lasted for another ten seconds and then the jarring ceased as the
Fox
exited Pendar’s atmosphere. Ray pushed the engines for another minute, making sure they weren’t followed.

“All right, drop power to three quarters,” Ray said finally, allowing himself to breathe again.

“Is everyone all right?” Sarah unbuckled herself and let go of Darty. The cat ran into the hallway in fear. “Captain?” she addressed Samir, who was waking up.

“Are we dead?”

“No,” Sarah chuckled, “We’re clear of the planet.”

Ray saw the man relax visibly, sinking back in his seat, mopping his sweat with his shirt.

Ga’an unbuckled his own belt and grunted.

“You all right Ga’an?” Sarah asked.

He looked at Sarah and then turned back to the window.

Sarah patted the Ancient in the shoulder. “You’ll be all right.” She nodded to herself. “We’ll be all right.”

“Captain, we will escort you back to the
Deviator
,” the same friendly voice radioed in.

“Probably the best news I’ve heard all day long,” Ray answered in sincerity. It truly
was
the best news he heard in a long while. “How are you holding up?”

“We lost three and these two are in no shape to fight,” the pilot said, “but we will be all right.”

“The three pilots?”

“One ejected safely. One of the evacuation shuttles will pick him up shortly. The other pilots are dead.”

“I see. Thank you.” Ray let himself calm down, rubbing his face. His hands were covered in dried blood and he had cuts and bruises all over his arms. His uniform had been torn apart and he suspected he’d feel an awful lot of pain in the morning. He hoped Reverend Marcus and Brother Cavil had had better luck in finding answers about the other stones.

“
Deviator
, this is the
Fox
, we’re coming home,” he hailed the flight control as they neared the fleet.

“Welcome home,
Fox,”
the woman on the radio answered, “You are cleared for bay five. Admiral Conway wants you to be on the bridge as fast as you can. Something is happening.”

“Acknowledged.” He closed the communications and focused his attention back on the two men who had almost died with him.

Ga’an stared out the cockpit window, watching the Consortium fleet, but Ray thought he wasn’t even seeing the ships before him.

“Ga’an?” he asked but the tall alien didn’t respond.
Leave him be, the adrenaline wears off.

Ray turned to check on Samir and stopped short. Captain Samir was slowly cleaning the blood off Pats’ dog tags with a piece of cloth. Ray just watched, not knowing what to say.

Chapter THIRTY-SIX

ERADICATION

Markham looked at the looming black shape in the sky one more time, chewing some tobacco he’d dried some weeks ago.

“We won’t have much to spare to buy seeds this year,” Markham scratched his old face. It felt like leather to him now. “I gave the dime we had from last year’s harvest to Harvey.”

“We never had much, husband. And I don’t trust Harvey, Markham.”

“Neither do I, woman. But he promised to keep the little lads safe and he’s a grandpa like me. The man’s heart will be in the right place,” he raised his head and watched the shuttles leaving in the distance, disappearing within the clouds one by one.

“The kids weren’t too happy about leaving their grannie behind.” He laughed.

“You know they love us both.”

“And I love them, woman.” Markham sighed. “I managed to convince them we’ll take the next ship.”

The truth was, he could only afford passage for the kids. James was old enough to take care of himself and Juliette would have to endure life the hard way, finding work and food for them both.

“You taught them well, they’ll do just fine.”

“James still has problems in understanding weather but he’ll be a good farmer someday. They’ll find a nice agricultural moon and settle down. I don’t want them to suffer the same fate as their father.”

“Accidents happen, Markham.”

“It wouldn’t have if he listened to me and didn’t go to venture on that overpopulated, industrial graveyard! Fortunes he said, riches. Humph.”

“He always wanted to see Earth, Markham. And he did. It’s the past. Our grandchildren will be safe. It’s all that matters.” Margaret was knitting a new cap for James. Not that he would need it—or could have it—but it helped keep her mind away from the hovering darkness over their home. She raised her head to the sky. “What
is
it?”

“No idea,” Markham said. The thing went all the way into the horizon as far as the eye could see. “It looks like those Jecko spiders, the ones we used to have in the cellar. And those little things fly around it like those little flies we had some summers ago.”

“I don’t like spiders,” the woman said, her rocking chair cracking with every move.

“Well, whatever it is, we’ll soon find out.” The man pointed at the sky before reaching for his homebrew whiskey. The huge arms of the colossal shape started to retract. From where Markham stood, it looked agonizingly slow, but something was definitely going on.

“That ship we saw earlier…I saw them flying back toward the canyons some ten minutes ago. They were in haste.”

“Which one?”

“The fool of a captain who flew toward the temple in the mountains.” He laughed, although it sounded more like grunting when his laughter turned into coughing. “Whatever they did,” he said behind breaths, “it made them angry. Some of those black things were after t–”

A sudden, deep horn-like sound shook the ground. Markham found himself on the floor, hands over his ears. He felt a sudden stabbing in his heart and looked for Margaret. She had sunk into her chair, covering her ears. Her face looked paler than snow. She drew her legs up to her chest and her eyes were wide open.

The deep, deafening sound echoed for a few more seconds and it stopped as fast as it came. Following the horn, hundreds of small, black shapes in various sizes in the distance buzzed in the air, making their way to the big ship like bees called back to their hive.

Markham was a simple farmer but he had been in the Territory Wars when he was young. Most of his memories about the war were long covered in the dusts of time, but he remembered the retreat call they usually received before an airstrike.

He smiled, thanking to his gods for bestowing a long and happy life. “How long is it now, Margaret? Sixty years?” he pulled his chair beside her, holding the frightened woman’s hand.

“Sixty-two,” Margaret looked at Markham, easing up a bit with his firm hold.

“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Markham smiled, landing a gentle kiss on his beloved’s hand.

“I regret nothing,” the woman returned his smile, the light in her eyes flickering with tears. “Not even for a second.”

“I love you, woman,” Markham said wholeheartedly.

Another sound echoed in the sky. This time, it was more like the humming of a charging row-crop tractor engine. Markham looked at the huge ship hovering on top of their world again. Its arms were completely inside the main body now, and a dark, red colored and continuously growing light ball formed in the center, brightening with each passing second. The humming reached a disturbing volume, making it impossible to hear anything else.

The old man firmed his grip and pulled Margaret closer, his eyes resting on hers, cherishing their final moments.

Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN

SEARCH, SEEK, DESTROY

“Captain, we are receiving a distress call,” Marcy said, trying to clean the signal.

“We don’t have the time,” Captain Gustafson answered, scratching his white beard. “Are there any other ships that can help?” He looked back at Marcy.

Marcy shook her head, her red cheeks shaking, “Sorry sir, we are the closest one by far.”

The old captain sighed, checking his watch. “Tell them to be ready for emergency docking. Let the marines know we will have visitors.”

The military transport vessel approached the black ship cautiously, illuminating the damaged vessel with its spotlights. The stranded ship looked like an advanced military vessel, much similar to the gunships they had but bigger. There were no visible marks on the hull stating to which wing it belonged.

Captain Gustafson leaned closer to the forward window, trying to make a damage assessment but failed to do so. The hull seemed intact but smoke rose from several spots. Whatever the damage was, it was probably internal. He was an old-fashioned man. Holographic interfaces and computer-controlled systems were not suited to his tastes and his praxes were focused on previous generation of ships.
They have all kinds of bad engineering going on within those circuits, no wonder these fancy-looking ships break down in the middle of nowhere.
When they’d installed the new jump drive and radar systems in the
Birdie,
he came inches close hijacking the transport, hiding it somewhere remote—the fantasy of an old man, of course.

CTC
Birdie
docked with the black vessel with a slight shake, attaching its aerobridge to the other ship’s airlock.

“Sir, there is only one male passenger on board,” the woman said, scanning the ship for life signs.

“Tell them to bring him up to the bridge.”

A tall, muscular man in a charcoal robe entered the bridge with two Special Forces marines, saluting Captain Gustafson.

“Thank you for your generosity, Captain,” the man extended his hand to shake the old man’s and the captain accepted the gesture. “We had life support failure. My crew abandoned ship but my pod was damaged.”

“I am glad we are of service Mr…”

“Caius. I am Revan Caius, a merchant,” the tall man answered.

Captain Gustafson narrowed his eyes. “You look everything else but a merchant.”

“You have sharp eyes. I was in the army until recently. Retired fourteen months ago but I am still trying to keep my form.”

Captain Gustafson nodded. “That explains it. Mr. Caius, we have orders to rendezvous with the First Fleet,” the old man said, “You can get a ride from there to a nearby port.”

“Thank you sir, that would be more than I could hope for,” Caius said, smiling. “Is there somewhere I could rest? I am exhausted.”

The old captain waved his hand as in
‘Yes
’ and signaled one of the marines to show Caius the way.

***

Revan thanked the marines as they took him to the guest quarters. He waited for them to leave, locking his door behind them. After making certain the coast was clear, he pulled out his wristband and touched a few buttons. A projection appeared before him after a few seconds,

“Yes?”

“I have successfully boarded the cargo vessel carrying one of the stones,” he reported.

“Good, Mr. Caius.”

“How is Marianna?”

“I told you, she would be taken care of as long as you perform your duties.”

Revan took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I killed for you again and again. The blood on my hands flows like rivers. I have but one reason for doing so and I am tired of games. I do not even know who I am killing for! Now,” Revan took a deep breath, “how is Marianna?”

The figure stood in silence for a few seconds before talking, “She is all right. You can see for yourself.” He reached for something on his end and the view changed.

“Marianna…” Revan whispered. His wife knelt beside a pond. She wore a white sun hat and planted flowers with an Asian nurse. She was laughing. She was
laughing
, and it was all that mattered.

The view flickered and the mysterious figure was back.

“You said there was a change of plans, what are my orders?” Revan asked, trying to put Marianna aside.
She was laughing!
He had been on his way to Pendar when the
boss
called again, redirecting him to another part of the nebula, asking him to board a transport.
I will not thank him. This was what he promised anyway…She was laughing.

“You will stay hidden until the ship meets with the fleet,” the man said. “Then, you will board the
Deviator
and kill Captain Raymond Harris before they reach Mars.”

“Who is handling the Mars grid?”

“Eremite Shevchenko will be responsible for Mars.”

“What about the stones?”

“Things have changed. Your priority, no matter what, is to kill Raymond Harris.”

“Will he be on board the flagship?” Revan was surprised. From the beginning, the captain of
Canaar
had been a target but his mission was always about the stones.

“He is currently on board,” the man spoke, leaning forward but with shadows still covering his face. “Mr. Caius, there is no alternative to killing Mr. Harris. I suggest you succeed in your assassination for both your and Marianna’s future. You are making me repeat this notion too frequently.”

“Yes, Mr....?” Revan didn’t even know what to call the man for whom he’d worked for years, and Marianna was in his hands. Her future and his hopes were at stake.

“You can call me Mr. Goehring.”