Colliding Worlds Trilogy 03 - Explosion (16 page)

The ship’s lighting went from white to blue, and a loud siren sounded. The
Striga’s
strong male voice came through all the wall screens. “
An attack is underway on Earthside. All military personnel: gear up and proceed to your assigned hangar immediately
.”

Talla sprinted toward her sanctuary, which was closer than Supply. It took her less than twenty seconds to get the backup gear she kept stashed in her room and strapped on. Once out of her room, she flapped her newly strengthened wings and lifted. She soared above the human and Sephian traffic in the tall hallways and headed toward hangar five, her designated hangar.

When she got there, a transporter and two aggressors were taking off. She touched down into a run toward another transporter with its engine already on. Pires, the only member of her team who was considered military personnel, came running around the corner and joined her side at the ship. He was fast for a Sephian and experienced. She’d made him her Second before she even met with her team.

She looked him up and down, noticing he had more than a half dozen blades strapped to his chest and two blasters on his thighs. She’d brought only two blades and two blasters, but she also had three chaos-charges inside the pocket of her body armor.

She gave him a nod, and led the way onto the transporter. Good thing he was on her side because Talla certainly never wanted to meet him in battle. Pires was tall and well-built and filled out his body armor. He could handle himself in hand-to-hand combat as well as take down an enemy from a distance. But his shadowed eyes were what intimidated Talla. They were haunted. Like he’d seen too much and killed too many to ever fully recover.

He followed her onto the transporter, and she found two pilots already on board. Like aggressors, transporters only needed one pilot, but it was standard protocol to bring a backup pilot into any battle. “You ready?” the second pilot asked.

“Yes,” Talla said, strapping herself in. “Let’s go.”

“What are we up against?” Pires asked, taking the seat next to her.

She reached for the wall screen and pulled up the logistics. “Rescue mission.” The human troops had switched from firing on their own kind to the incoming aggressors and transports. “Looks like we grab every breathing protester we can and minimize casualties. Let’s see,” she said, scrolling through the details. “There are four full battalions out there, and they’re not playing nice.”

His lip curled into a sneer. “And orders are to minimize casualties?”

“‘Minimize’ can be subjective,” she replied quietly, leaning back as the transporter around her vibrated and lifted off the ground.

Pires was battle-hardened like Jax, but they were otherwise two completely different men. Pires was a killer. Jax was a protector. She’d take Jax over Pires on this mission any day. After spending the last couple days with Jax, it felt strange without him now. Though, she figured she should get used to that feeling as he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

She wondered to which hangar Jax was assigned. She’d seen him earlier with that Sephian woman. It was the first time in her life that she was jealous of another woman. Talla had always gotten what she wanted. Not that she was a snob. It was just that when she saw something she wanted, she worked for it until she got it (and she always got it). She’d wanted Jax most of all. That he rejected her … hurt.

At least she had Laze. She could always count on her brother. At the moment, she was thankful he was restricted to his sanctuary for a week to recover. That way, he wouldn’t see how Talla lost all sense of propriety around Jax. By the time, she’d get to Laze’s room later, she’d be prepared to deny any feelings she’d have for a human.

Talla was knocked forward, tight against the seat belt. She looked out the front windshield to see utter chaos. Heavy artillery had begun to bombard the transporter as soon as they left the safety of the
Striga
. The core ship was grounded only a few hundred meters from the Etzee, its hull the same distance from the ground. It took mere seconds for the transporter to claw through the storm of nature and human to reach the Etzee.

Shredded tents blew like banners in the wind. Bodies dotted the ground. Survivors ran out, desperately waving their arms at the incoming ships, with no sense to find cover. “
Idiots
,” Talla cursed, and unbuckled. She lunged forward and pointed outside. “Put us between the tank and that group there.”

The pilot nodded, and Talla pulled out a blaster. She turned around to find Pires already opening the door. “Wait!” she called out.

He jumped.

“Damned Sephian
.
” She grabbed two shields from the wall and then threw herself out of the transporter. She glided to the ground, the wind buffeting her, and she held the shields out in case any snipers noticed her or Pires. He was already on the ground and moving toward the tank. She shoved the shield at him. “This is a rescue mission, not an offensive attack.”

“It’s too cumbersome,” he snarled.

“It’s to protect the refugees!”

He shot her a hard glare and then holstered one of his blasters and took the shield. With Pires taking the lead, they rushed toward the nearest huddle of protesters. The approaching green tank was changing its trajectory toward the transporter. While it couldn’t destroy the superior armor of the ship, a couple direct hits this close would do some damage. They had to move fast.

In a rush, Talla did a cursory scan of the humans. “Can you all walk?” she shouted above the engine noise and gunfire all around them. A woman meekly raised her hand, and Talla noticed her knee was bloody. She pointed at the two closest to the woman. “You and you, help her. We’re taking you to that transporter over there. Stay behind our shields, and you’ll be safe.”

She sidled up next to Pires. He nodded, and then crabbed their small group toward the transporter. With the body-length shields their only defense, less than a third of the twenty-plus humans had any safety behind the shields Talla and Pires held. The rest simply huddled close as though proximity would help.

The tank fired, and the transporter rocked from side to side. Talla’s ears rang from the explosion, but they didn’t slow down. Within a couple seconds, they were to the transporter, and the door opened. Talla and Pires held their shields against the tank, even though she knew that if the tank fired on them now, they were both dead.

The humans scurried onto the transporter, stumbling over one another in desperation to reach safety. “Hurry, damn it!” Talla shouted behind her as she stared down the massive barrel of the tank. It could fire on them any moment. Why it hadn’t already surprised Talla. Then, the tank jerked and started to back away. Talla glanced at Pires who looked just as confused, but it made sense when she saw the tank aim for a low-flying aggressor.

It looked like the troops had some semblance of humanity left in them. Once the protesters had been brought on board, they almost seemed thankful, and no longer tried to destroy the transporter, instead moving onto new prey. Perhaps, like Talla, they were simply trying to save those who they could, too.

But it wasn’t a time for deep reflection. The ship was full.

“Wait!” someone screamed from the distance.

Talla turned to find several more humans run toward them. She motioned them forward, and they jumped onto the ship at nearly full speed. Talla glanced inside. The transporter was packed, all seats taken and everyone else standing shoulder to shoulder.

She made eye contact with the pilot. “We’ll round up another group by the time you get back.” With that, she stepped back and watched the door close. She looked around before pointing at one of the massive pylons anchoring the
Striga
to the ground. “There,” she said. “If we can get the humans there, they can hide behind the pylon until the transporters pick them up.”

“Looks good,” Pires said, scanning the area. “But we have company.”

She noticed the incoming troops at the same time. “To the pylon!” she yelled just as the first bullets pounded their shields.

“I’ll take the flank,” Pires said, and she moved. He was stronger. He could handle the barrage longer. With her back to his, their clear shields enveloped them in a protective shell. Talla stepped forward only when she felt Pires press against her. They made slow progress, but Talla knew the hazards of stepping backward over rough terrain. She supported Pires with her back, and they finally reached the pylon.

Talla pulled Pires to the side, and they stood against the gray metal panting. She wiped the rain from her eyes. She wanted to peek around their shelter to see their odds, but knew they’d only dishearten her. “They’ve got us pinned, and they know it.”

“The grenades will come soon if we stay here,” he muttered.

They resituated their shields to form a cocoon around them. It’d buy them time, but there was only so much a shield could take. Talla checked her blaster, switching it from ‘stun’ to ‘kill’, and looked at Pires. “Then we don’t stay here.”

He glanced at his blaster, and she noticed that it had been set to ‘kill’ all along. He smiled. “Are you overriding ‘minimize casualties’ order?”

“Temporarily,” she said. “I take high, you take low?”

Pires gave a quick nod.

They each strapped on their shields on their backs and stood. Laying her hand on his, she tapped one, two, three. They spun and started firing around the edge of the pylon. Pires ran out at the same time, he ran to the left, and she took off to the sky.

And found themselves outnumbered twenty to one. They didn’t stand a chance.

Jax lay on his stomach, scanning the base’s layout through his binoculars. General Jerrick was taking lunch in his office at HQ, like usual. Jax had been stationed at this base several years back, and nothing had changed, other than the fact that it looked like only a skeleton crew remained.

Mesh wire covered all the office windows as a protection against flak and B&E, but it also prevented an easy in-and-out. The hallways looked empty, but given that it was the lunch hour, that wasn’t uncommon. He handed the binoculars to Sana.

“It looks like our only shot is to go through the front door.”

“Wait until he leaves for the night,” Sana offered.

“See that cot in the corner? He’s not leaving.” Jax knew his father as well as anyone, which wasn’t saying much. But he did know that the General never came home anytime the DEFCON level was raised. Hell, he didn’t come home if he was busy. When Jax had been a kid, the neighbor lady would stop over and check on him after getting a call from his father. She was called at least once a week. Sometimes, Jax would go nearly two weeks without seeing his father. In the regular world, what the General did could be seen as child abandonment, but the military was a far different place. For a Jerrick, everything came before family.

Just like now, Jax knew his father wasn’t joining the Resistance for his son. Today was about business, not family. If the General was joining the Resistance, it was because the odds were better in his favor to switch teams. Not that Jax was complaining. They’d be gaining a powerful man with powerful connections out of this.

Jax glanced at his watch. Twelve thirty-six. Staff would start returning a few minutes before thirteen hundred.

Now
.

Pulling himself up on his knees, he took back the binoculars and scanned the building one more time. “If things go bad, be ready to run. Don’t wait for me,” he said to Sana before coming to his feet and handing the binoculars back. He jogged forward through the small parking lot, his blaster holstered, hoping that anyone seeing him from a distance, especially in this rain shower, wouldn’t notice anything other than a Ranger in black fatigues.

Jax strolled through the front door of the one-story office building as though he’d done it every day, which he had for eighteen months. Just inside, a clerk Jax didn’t recognize sat at his desk, raptly engaged by his computer screen and a sandwich. Jax had planned on incapacitating the clerk, but the man didn’t even look up as Jax walked by and headed down the hallway. A couple office doors were open, most were closed. He headed straight to the large office at the end of the hallway.

Not bothering with a knock, he stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind him. General Jerrick looked up, piqued, but upon seeing who it was, a smile broke out across his face. “You came.”

“We have to hurry,” he said, motioning his father to him.

His father came to his feet. “Jackson, it’s good to see you, boy.”

“Later,” Jax said, gripping the door handle. “We have to move.”

“Wait. I need to grab something out of my lockbox.”

“Leave it,” Jax said. “Let’s go.”

Instead, his father sorted the keys on his hefty keychain. “It won’t take long.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Jax hissed.

“Just give me a minute.” The General’s gaze flashed to the side for an instant before returning his focus on Jax. The movement was quick enough to prickle the hair on Jax’s neck.

Jax’s eyes widened. “
No
.” He yanked the door open at the same time two armed soldiers — one from each side — emerged from the corner shadows. Boot steps pounded the floor, coming to a stop behind him.

He leveled a hard gaze onto the General. He should’ve figured it out right away. The lax clerk at the front desk, the lack of troops walking outside. Even for the lunch hour, he should’ve seen more people out and about. Everything had been too easy. He’d been set up … by his own fucking father.

Jax moved his hand away from his holster, and a soldier disarmed him. He glared at his father. “Why?”

His father stiffened to his full height. “I had to do what I could to save you, Jackson.”

“
Save
me?” Jax belted out a laugh as his wrists were restrained behind his back. “You’re saving me by bringing me in so I can be hung for treason?”

The General’s mouth tightened. “I’ve called in some favors. You’ll be sent to the brig but not executed. What matters is that you’ll live. We can work on reducing your sentence later. Hell, I might be able to get it knocked down to a six, six, and a kick.”