Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3) (3 page)

Gree frowned. “I was told the implant couldn’t be detected.”
 

“You were told wrong.”
 

“Are we all there is?” Gree asked.
 

Ula shrugged. “I believe there is another.” She shook her head sharply. “It doesn’t matter now.”
 

Ula pulled up her pant leg, exposing her calf. She squeezed the skin. The muscle glowed an emerald green and opened. Pulling out a pistol not much bigger than a pen, Ula grinned. “When we get to the top of this building, your job is to launch that image into space. No gamma wave will transmit from this building—it has to be sent into space.”

“I know.” Gree gripped his bag. “What are you going to do?”

“Give you the time.”

He gestured toward the tiny weapon in her hand. “With that? You won’t last long.”

She offered a lopsided grin. “You better hurry, then.”

The elevator traveled for thirty-seconds. Gree looked up. He just made out the metal rafters at the top of the building when the elevator screeched to a halt.
 

“What happened?” he asked, carefully standing as if the elevator would resume a sudden ascent to the top of the building.
 

Ula glanced around her small pistol in hand. She nodded behind him. “Jump off. We will walk the rest of the way.”
 

Gree turned. A metal staircase inside the shaft led the remaining distance to the top. He jumped to the stairs, his shoes clanging on the grating. He turned around to help Ula. She waved him off.
 

“Just move!” she snapped, glancing back. “No matter what happens—you get that message sent!”

Gree started to ask what she meant but noticed movement below.
 

Another elevator car moved toward them. Fast.
 

Spinning around, he tightened the strap on his bag and ran up the stairs. He heard Ula’s footsteps behind him but didn’t turn around to look. He skipped a step, then two, his leg muscles burning as he increased his speed. He rounded a floor, ascending closer to the roof.

A laser blast flashed by him, illuminating the elevator shaft like a strobe. Two shots followed.
 

Sweat poured down his face and dripped off the tip of his nose. He rounded another floor and paused briefly. A metal door loomed in front of him with red lettering:
 

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
 

The roof.
 

He gripped his bag’s strap and sprinted up the stairs toward the door. Lowering his shoulder, he lunged for the door. His shoulder flashed with pain as he bounced back from the immovable metal. He pounded on the door and kicked the steel.
 

“Move!”
 

Gree turned. Ula stood at the base of the stairs, a fresh laser burn sizzling into her upper arm. She held out the small laser, aiming in for the top of the door. She fired, the laser’s light flashing in the dim corridor. Sparks flew down on Gree’s head. She fired twice more. Gree flinched but saw the hinges had melted.
 

He stood, reared back and kicked the door.
 

The metal fell forward. A gust of wind howled through the opening.
 

“Hurry!” Ula yelled from behind him. “Go!”

He sprinted onto the roof and into the light. The Claria space station loomed in orbit, visible even in daylight on a cloudless day. He saw a massive Zahlian capital ship orbiting the station.
 

The urban cityscape of Zone Ninety surrounded the building on all sides, the skyline stretching to the sea in the distance. The wind blasts nearly knocked him off his feet as he ran across the rooftop. As an explosion boomed from behind him, he pushed away the idea of being more than three-thousand feet above the ground and looked for a spot to set up the launcher.
 

He crouched behind an electric box. He whipped the bag around in front of him and opened it in one motion.
 

Ula limped next to him and fell to the ground with her back against the electrical box. “How long do you need?”

He pulled the cylinder apart like a telescope. “A few minutes.”

She coughed. “I can give you that.”

Gree glanced at her, saw the laser wounds on her arm and leg, the sweat drenching her shirt. He bit his lip, trying to focus on the launcher. Just as he had practiced countless times in training, the four-foot launcher extended from the rooftop, the silver missile glistening in the light. He reached to touch his elbow, found the implant, and squeezed hard.

His skin burned. He heard the sizzling sound of burning flesh. He winced. Once he heard the loud buzzing sound, he ripped back his skin, freeing the implant from his arm. Ignoring the pain, he opened the transmission pocket on the missile and keyed in the coordinates. Once the missile reached beyond the jamming effects of the building in the upper atmosphere, the message would begin its transmission via Whisper to the closest Legion post.
 

Ula fired her laser and crouched behind the electrical box. “You done already?”

“Twenty seconds!”

For the first time, Ula smiled. “You did good, Dr. Gree.”
 

Their eyes met. He nodded.
 

Laser fire splattered against the electrical box. Sparks erupted into the air. Ula stood to return fire. Bolts exploded into her chest, spinning her around like a top. Her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
 

Keeping low to the rooftop, Gree crawled over to her. He turned her over, the tiny fires burning into her body. She wasn’t breathing. He grabbed her pistol and glanced back.
 

Two Marines emerged from the charred doorway, their laser rifles trained in his direction.
 

Here we go, he thought.

He turned back to the launcher, re-checking the coordinates. A few more seconds and he would finish the launch prep.

Gripping the pistol, he leaned against the electrical box as if it would provide him support. His breathing increased as the sweat felt cold against his clammy skin. He glanced at the brilliant blue sky. Fighting back nausea, he emerged from his cover and fired.
 

He squeezed off two shots, one striking a Marine in the leg before the return fire hit him. His chest flashed with pain, the force knocking him off his feet and onto the rooftop. He remained on his back, the sound around him muffling in his ears. The missile’s hiss transformed into a roar. With a whoosh, the small missile shot high into the air.
 

He smiled, watching it soar. Laser fire filled the sky, but the bolts didn’t find their mark. After another two seconds, the missile disappeared, leaving only a white trail behind it.
 

“We did it,” he said, rising from the rooftop. “Ula.”
 

He crawled over to her, ignoring the fact he just moved away from his cover. Ula’s eyes remained focused on the sky.
 

Gree looked over to the doorway, saw more heavily armed Marines pouring out from the elevator shaft. Their red armor reflected the light, splintering flashes of light across the rooftop. There was only one thing he could do.

He raised the pistol and fired.

The rooftop ignited, filling his vision with sparks, lethal laser fire, and darkness.

*****

The compact missile reached supersonic speeds as it ascended away from Zone Ninety and through the atmosphere. The air thinned and the temperatures dropped as the projectile exited the upper atmosphere and transitioned into deep orbit.
 

No one saw the tiny missile as it passed Claria’s spaceport.
 

A sensor operator onboard the Zahlian All-Purpose Response Cruiser
Dauntless
had momentarily picked it up, but never achieved a lock. As a result, Sector Regent Knox Tulin, who utilized the
Dauntless
as his flagship, was not told of the incident until hours later.
 

The Legion Agent’s missile surpassed the final patrolling Zahlian Interceptors and ran out of fuel. Away from any electronic jamming pumped into the air by Zahlian forces, the video transmissions started. The transmission repeated until the missile ran out of power.
 

Light years away, a Legion listening post intercepted the information. Technicians downloaded, copied and transmitted the video of the
Wraith
to the highest levels of Legion Command. Staff quickly accessed the file and analyzed the images.
 

Mission Wraith

Lieutenant Austin Stone halted when he saw his reflection. His dress Tizona blues were flawless. The polished buttons glistened under the corridor’s light. He gazed at the silver wings on his chest for a moment and thought about what it took to earn them. He thought of how far he had advanced, from the Gauntlet to the Battle of Atlantis.
 

He leaned back letting out a long deep sigh.
 

He felt every wound on his body stretch as if they were tearing open. He closed his eyes, the images of the burning forest and the laser bolts flashed in his mind. Since his return to Earth, his nightmares had ripped him from the benefit of sleep. They were always the same. He was under fire, helpless to save those he loved. Sometimes it was Mom, screaming in the woods as Phantoms killed her. Other times, he was in the Trident fighting incredible odds, alone.
 

Every day since Atlantis he felt a deep and sickening sense of dread. He should be dead. He shouldn’t have survived. The thought brought a tinge of acid to his tongue.
 

As a group of graduating Star Runners passed behind him in the hallway leading to the auditorium, Austin stepped closer to his reflection. His freshly shaven face looked lean, eyes lifeless. His shoulders, once toned and muscular, had thinned. He looked different, older.
 

Shaking his head and clearing his throat, he straightened his uniform and turned sharply down the hall. Three recruits came around the corner. They laughed and joked but silenced once their eyes fell on Austin. In one movement, they backed up against the wall and saluted. He released the recruits with a sharp salute.
 

“As you were,” he said, marching past.

The recruits turned and continued in the opposite direction.
 

“That was him,” one whispered.
 

Austin released a smile and shook his head.

He had arrived on Tarton’s Junction three hours ago. Captain Ty Braddock had assigned him temporary quarters so he could clean up for the graduation ceremony. Austin managed a quick forty-minute power nap to stave off the fatigue threatening to overtake him.

The Tizona class he started with would be graduating today. Among the several graduates in the Tizona squadron who trained on Tarton’s Junction, David Keller, better known as Bear, would be finishing up flight school along with his friend Skylar Kincaid and Gan Patro. After today, they would be Star Runners. Soon, they would receive their assignments and be shipped off across Legion Space.
 

He reached the auditorium doors and paused. At this very spot, Josh Morris had surprised him following Austin’s orientation. It was the first time they had seen each other since Josh left for college.
 

Broken by the Tyral Pirates, Josh was no longer the same friend from his childhood. He remembered the times he and Josh would hang out and do nothing. They had no worries, no enemies. Now undergoing therapy, Josh would spend a couple weeks trying to rebuild his life. It would be much longer than a couple weeks before his friend would begin to feel better, to feel normal again.
 

Austin sighed and walked into the auditorium. It was buzzing with activity. The stage was in the center of the circular room. A bright light illuminated the stage. Officers in Tizona blue uniforms, Lobera green uniforms, Excalibur red uniforms and Tarnex black uniforms filled the room. Austin slowly veered through the crowd, avoiding eye contact with other officers. He wanted to keep to himself. He was tired of talking about the Phantoms, and Atlantis—tired of thinking about it—and wanted to enjoy watching his friends graduate.