Star Runners 2: Revelation Protocol (28 page)

“Thanks, Sky,” Austin grumbled. “If this is what we need to do, let’s do it. How do we search the ocean’s depths?”

“Every fighter will get his or her coordinates to search for the next eight hours,” Braddock said. “We will use energy sensor bursts that send a wave fifty MUs out. This is a technology created during the last war to prevent the enemy from trying to mask a task force in a nebula or something similar that masks visible and other system reconnaissance. Our laser cannons are being reconfigured for underwater use, and we are bringing over ordinance to the civilian hangar for use.”

Braddock took a step forward and looked down at Austin. “I understand, Lieutenant, if you cannot make it. I’ve heard the past week has been quite an ordeal for you. On top of that, you’ve been in the cockpit all day defending this base. For you, this is not an order.”

Skylar looked at him, shaking her head. Her eyes pleaded with him to stay.

“Captain,” Austin said, clearing his throat, “does command have any idea what happens if you and the recruits do not find this escaped sub?”

Braddock squared his shoulders. “The closest possible target is Base Prime.”

Austin blinked. “San Francisco?”

“Yes.” Braddock nodded. “We really don’t know.”

He thought of Kadyn recovering in rehab in San Francisco, trying to make sense of her world being turned inside out and upside down in a matter of hours. His final friend from his old life. Hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians who would die in whatever attack this rogue vessel had in mind.

Austin shook his head and stood on wobbly legs. “I’m with you, captain. Lead the way.”

Another concussion rocked the asteroid. Josh stumbled, falling into the mix of oil and circuit boards on the floor of the control room. He stood, brushing the liquid off his ragged clothing. Red lights flashed across the hangar, washing the room in crimson. The Zahl missile strike pounded the former pirate base, explosions growing closer by the minute. The holographic map showed the interceptors coming within seventy MUs and unleashing a fresh missile volley. Fires the Barracudas had worked to extinguish reignited with fresh fury, transforming the hangar into a fiery inferno. The glass cracked as Josh stared through, watching the Barracudas working to start their cold vessels.

They needed time.

Josh searched the controls, trying to find the startup sequence for the Tyral missile defense. A drop of sweat burned into his eye. The green screen flickered as another explosion rattled the control room’s glass once again. He cyphered through the commands organized with no apparent order. Finding the missile defense routine, he activated the system.

The holographic map shifted in the control room. Small yellow crosshairs automatically swept out into the asteroid field, searching for a lock on the incoming bandits. A moment later, a dozen of the crosshairs switched to red. With the soft concussion, the Tyral missile defense system launched a series of missiles into the field.

That’ll keep them busy.

Josh took one last look around the control room, knowing he would be destroyed along with the asteroid base in a few minutes if he didn’t leave. Seeing nothing of value, he sprinted toward the door leading to the hangar. He stopped.

The coordinates.

He ran back to the holographic map and opened the file for the coordinates of the way station. He found a shred of paper and a pen. He copied the coordinates fierce enough to nearly rip the paper apart.

When he finished, he ran back to the hangar. Gusts from starting engines shot debris and burning embers around the hangar.

Waylon stood with Tocol under the
Traveler,
unlocking the fuel hoses from the base of the vessel. Josh ran toward them, waving his hands.

“Launched a volley of missiles,” he said, gasping for breath. He pointed at the hangar openings. “A couple more direct hits and the base won’t be able to power those energy shields. We’re dead if that happens.”

Waylon looked at Tocol. “Get the tank to port! Help me here, Josh!”

Josh rushed to the clamp and unhooked the hoses. “I need a ship, Waylon!”

“No time! Get on board!”

Unlocking the nozzle, Josh dropped the hose just as another concussion rocked the asteroid. “I need to warn Earth!” He glanced back at the fighters. “Let me have Matta’s ship! I promise I’ll return!”

“No time!” He looked back at Tocol, who gave a thumbs up. “Get on board!”

“Waylon! I’m begging you!”

Waylon stopped and stared at Josh. The fiery embers of the hangar blaze shot around them, one sizzling into Waylon’s beard. The man pressed his lips together and grabbed Tocol’s shoulder as he ran past.

“Tocol! Get Matta off her ship!”

“But that’s hers! She’s not going—“

“Just do it! No time to argue!” Waylon glared at Josh. “I have assurances the fighter will be returned.”

Josh clasped Waylon’s hand. “Thank you!”

Waylon nodded. “I’ll see you soon, brother!”

Josh ran behind Tocol. They waved their arms, trying to get Matta’s attention. Her triangular fighter lifted two feet off the ground when they reached it. Tocol slapped his large hands down on the angular wing. Matta glanced to the side, her tan leather helmet swaying back and forth. Josh couldn’t hear her, but could tell she wasn’t happy.

The canopy lifted open. “I can’t carry another, you stupid oaf!” she yelled.

Tocol shook his head. “Get out! Boss said this one’s for Josh!”

“What?” Matta stared at them, her eyes wide. “He can’t take my ride!”

“He just did!” Tocol unhooked her harness and lifted her from the cockpit, her legs kicking in the air. He dropped her on the hangar floor. Matta landed on her feet and tumbled to the ground.

Josh reached down to help her. She slapped his hands away.

“You better bring her back!” she screamed. “You hear me?”

He grabbed her hands. “I will.”

She sprinted toward the
Traveler.

Tocol hopped down from the ship and grabbed Josh by the shoulders. He pressed close to Josh until their noses nearly touched. The fire and engine gusts swirled around Tocol.

“I’ve grown to trust you, Josh,” he said. “Don’t make me regret it.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, the large man sprinted for the
Traveler.

Josh turned around and boarded the small fighter. He stepped across the wings and jumped down into the cockpit. Slipping on the headset, he got his bearings for the controls. The cockpit seemed simple enough, more so than the Trident. The canopy shut, filling the cockpit with the sterile smell of recycled air. The basic control board flickered and came to life, a short-range sensor displaying one hundred MUs around the asteroid base. Boulders tumbled down to the floor of the hangar, the impact shaking the base of the asteroid.

Time to go, he thought.

The other Barracudas lifted off, heading for the exit on the far side of the asteroid. Josh wanted to check his sensors, find out the location of the incoming interceptors, but the rudimentary sensors on this tiny vessel did not stretch far enough. He had no idea how close the Zahl Interceptors were, but he knew they closed on his position. Besides, the magnetic composition of the asteroid caused all interior sensors to flicker in waves.

Josh eased back on the stick, the Barracuda fighter lifting off with ease. He looked through the main hangar entrance. A pair of interceptors fired on missiles shot by the defense system. Laser bolts flashed throughout the asteroid field. Josh smiled, swinging his fighter around to head out the back entrance to the hangar.

“
Traveler
, this is … Razor,” he said, realizing the transmission could be monitored. “Right on your six, boss.”

“Copy, Razor,” Waylon’s voice came back. “Any trailers?”

“Not yet,” he said, re-checking his sensors.

The Barracudas hit the asteroid field first, soaring away from the asteroid base on the opposite side of the Zahl vessel. Josh surveyed their surroundings as he exited the base, half expecting another Zahlian capital ship to be shadowing the asteroid like a predator. But nothing greeted them but more asteroids.

“We’re plotting our course,” Waylon said. “You good, Razor?”

“Copy,” he said, veering back toward the asteroid and bringing his vessel to a stop. “I’m covering your exit.”

Waylon paused. “You’re a good man, Razor. See you soon.”

Josh spun his fighter around halfway in order to keep an eye on the asteroid and watch the Barracudas exit. The space rippled in front of the
Traveler
. Josh thought of the crew on board he had briefly been a part of, and wondered if he would ever see any of them again. But he had comrades and an entire planet he had to warn—if it wasn’t too late.

A lump formed in his throat as the
Traveler
shuddered, and disappeared. The Barracudas’ three fighters followed suit, disappearing into space.

He pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket, hoping he could read his handwriting. He keyed for the coordinates to Earth, piggybacking off the way station placed by the Tyral Pirates.

Movement flickered from the asteroid. Two interceptors emerged from the hidden hangar door. Josh pinged their distance with the simple sensors: seventy MUs. His stomach turned.

He slammed down on the throttle, keeping one eye on his rear sensors and the other on his navigation computer. Considering he would have to distribute power to the two onboard laser guns, he checked the power levels and decided against it. This weaponry would be like popguns against an interceptor. Making matters worse, the calculations for the curvature drive was taking much longer than his Trident. He should have been keying in the coordinates long before now. His fighter would be no match for Zahlian Interceptors.

Pulling back on the stick, he maneuvered into a cluster of rocks in hopes it would buy him time. The beeping of a missile lock attempt filled his ears.

He silently prayed he had enough skill to dodge these pilots. Checking his sensors, he grimaced. Fifty MUs.

An asteroid to his side shattered from laser fire. Red bolts surrounded him. A shot blasted his tail, sending the tiny fighter spinning. He swore as his head smacked the canopy. He launched into evasive maneuvers, trying to make his tiny fighter a small target.

The navigation computer pinged. Finally. He yanked back on the curvature drive. The small vessel shuddered as the space before him shimmered.

“Come on! Move!” he screamed.

Laser bolts shot around him. The missile lock warning wailed. A projectile appeared on his sensors.

“Oh, please no!”

He throttled forward, leaning as if he could will the fighter through the curve. The green wave shot over the fighter, encapsulating the vessel in its emerald embrace. His stomach dropped, the familiar shifting of a curvature formed.

The screech of the missile lock faded as abruptly as it started, the translucent clouds dissipating around the fighter. Before him drifted the gray surface illuminating the night sky for mankind since the beginning of recorded history. Slowly pulling back on the throttle, he took in a slow, deep breath and released it as he watched the crater-filled surface of the moon drift in front of him. As the petite fighter dropped to a stop, Josh knew home was just beyond the moon.

Silence surrounded him. He turned around, but nothing trailed behind him except the black void of space.

He pressed his hand to his forehead.

“Thank you, God,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“I know you’re all tired,” Braddock said, stepping to the front of the briefing room, “but I need you all with me right now. I’ve asked our doc to supply you with stimulants if you need them.”

The seven pilots collapsed into their seats and let out a collective sigh. Austin leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. His muscles ached from the hours inside the cockpit of the Trident. An all too brief hot shower had washed off some of the stink from the day’s battle, but nothing had erased the fact Rodon had escaped. Again.

Braddock activated the wall screen. A layout of the ocean floor surrounding Atlantis spread behind him, rising twelve feet over his head.

“Okay,” he said, “here we are. I know you pilots are still wet behind the ears, but the planet needs you now. Atlantis lost its alert fighters earlier today, and our reinforcements are still about eight hours out. There is still the possibility this is all a setup for a larger attack, perhaps even an invasion of the planet. Somewhere out there, the last pirate vessel is lying low. We have every reason to believe they are planning to attack.”

Skylar glanced at Austin. He tried to smile, blinked hard and stared at Braddock’s map.

“I apologize for the lack of technology. We have to use traditional methods for this briefing.” Braddock picked up a laser pointer to highlight sectors surrounding Atlantis. “Since we believe the vessel is currently on the ocean floor and running dark, we cannot pick them up on sensors. Each of you is responsible for searching a sector. You will proceed on your designated route, dropping sensor bursts near the ocean floor. Each burst will search about fifty MUs. You then move off to the next sector and do it again.”

Braddock pointed the laser to the western sectors. “Bear, Toad, PowPow, you take these three sectors to the west of Atlantis. Thrasher, Spark, take the south. Rock, I want you and Cheetah taking the sector to the east while I take the north.” He lowered his gaze. “This final pirate planet-side has nothing to lose at this point, a fact that makes him very dangerous. We must assume he is planning on a suicide attack to cause as much damage as possible.”

Bear raised his hand. “Sir, we’ll have no visual this deep. It’ll be like flying blind.”

“That’s correct,” Braddock said with a nod. “Your training with sensor flying will be put to the test today.”

“What do we do if we make contact with the vessel?” Skylar asked.

“Report in for orders. Your laser cannons are being reconfigured for the water as we speak and most of you will be resupplied with at least a partial load of missiles. Do not engage unless ordered to do so. I don’t want anyone taking this pirate on without assistance. Copy?”

The pilots nodded and sat forward in their seats.

“Questions? No?” Braddock slapped his hands together. “Let’s not waste any more time, then. Dismissed.”

Austin stood and stretched, wishing he had taken pain medicine with the stimulants he took before the briefing. Zipping up her flight suit, Skylar stepped in front of him. She held her trembling hands out before balling them into fists.

“How ya feeling?” she asked.

“Good as can be,” Austin, grinning. He looked her in the eye. “Are
you
okay?”

Nodding, she bit down gently on her bottom lip.

Austin looked away, his mind wandering to the days of running on the Tizona campus in the heat of the south Georgia swamp. He looked back at Skylar.

“Stone!” Braddock snapped. “Nubern asked to see you. The rest of you, get down to the hangar for preflight.”

Skylar looked at him. “I’ll see you down there.”

*****

More wounded had been brought to the storage bay since Austin left. He found Nubern immediately, rushing to his side. Nubern, his head wrapped in bandages, had his bed at an incline.

Austin stood over his mentor, unsure if the captain was awake or not.

Nubern’s eyes opened slightly. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

“It’s good to see you, sir,” Austin said, pulling up a stool and sitting next to him. “Glad to see you awake.”

“I have quite a hangover.”

“What are they saying?”

Nubern shrugged. “Concussion. I need to be observed for a day. The ocean’s not soft.”

Austin laughed. “No, it’s not.”

He looked at his mentor, trying not to stare at the bandages wrapped around his forehead. Turning away, he looked at the rows of wounded. A woman slept on the bed next to Nubern, burn marks covering her shoulders.

“We really got hit yesterday, didn’t we, sir?”

“Worst I’ve seen in a while,” Nubern said, wincing. “They really got hit hard here. I’ve heard the ground battle turned hand-to-hand by the end.” He sighed. “I really need to stop ending up like this when we work together, Lieutenant. I’m starting to think you’re bad luck.”

“Nice, sir.” Austin clenched his teeth. “Why did this happen?”

“Rodon wanted to disrupt our operations. Who knows why. I don’t think he hoped to take the entire planet, but I really have no idea. He did this for a reason. I know it. I feel it in my bones. There has to be more to this.” He motioned for Austin to come closer. “You need to end this, son. That final sub must not be allowed to carry out any kind of attack.”

Austin nodded. “We’ll do what we can, sir.”

“No,” Nubern said, shaking his head. “There’s no one else. If this final sub is allowed to carry out an attack, Earth will never be the same.”

Austin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen dark worlds on the border attacked by warlords, pirates and other scum of the galaxy,” he said, coughing. “Society as you know it will collapse. The people will turn on their governments when they realize they cannot be protected by what lies beyond their own atmosphere. It’ll be pure anarchy if this attack happens.”

Austin’s stomach twisted. If Earth was attacked by an otherworldly technology, the governments would first search for some terrestrial explanation. When word reached the people the attack came from beyond Earth, he could imagine the planet descending into chaos.

“I understand, sir.”

Nubern placed his hand on Austin’s flight suit, pulling him close. “You need to end this. Today.”

Austin looked at him. “But Rodon got away.”

Nubern lowered his gaze. “How do you know?”

He wiped his hand over his face. “We pursued him to the moon. I tried, sir, we all did. But he got away.” He looked at his hands.

“You are still a rookie pilot, and you can’t save the world, Austin. You’re good, but do not beat yourself up.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “He’s lost his power. It’ll take him years to recover. If ever.”

Nubern’s face grew rigid, his brow lowering. “Your enemy is out there, somewhere in your oceans. Find him. End this.”

Austin nodded. “I will, sir.” He squeezed Nubern’s hand. “Get some rest.”

Nubern nodded and closed his eyes.

Taking one last look at his battered captain, Austin stared around the rest of the storage bay. Men and women cried out as nurses and staff did what they could to help. A tangible feeling of dread fell over the room.

Austin looked at the floor and hurried out into the hangar.

Crews with loud pumps removed the standing water from the hangar floor. The standing water had dropped to mere puddles. Welding torches flared all over the hangar’s ceiling, sending sparks falling down like a fiery waterfalls. The water had ceased falling like rain, reduced to sporadic droplets. Atlantis had started to mend. Somehow, Austin knew it would take years for the base to reach its former glory, but it had at least survived. 

Austin jogged through the coordinated chaos, nodding at crews as they carried tools and scrap metal into piles. The battered remnants of the Trident squadron charged with defending Atlantis lined up between the various types of star freighters. Gan Patro stood on the wing of the closest Trident, a grim look on his face. Austin nodded at him, but Gan gazed off into the distance, his mind elsewhere.

“Lieutenant!”

Austin turned to see Tyce emerging from beneath a Trident. “What is it, Tyce?”

As he approached, Austin saw Tyce’s face for the first time. Even through the grease covering his face, Tyce had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

“I’ve done the best I can with your fighter’s tail,” he said, his expression darkening. “She really went through it.” 

“That she did.” Austin nodded. “Can she fly?”

“Refueled and rearmed. She should be ready. The rear thrusters might be a bit sluggish.”

“I understand. I can handle it.” Tyce turned to leave. “And Tyce? Good job.”

Tyce nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Austin climbed the ladder to his cockpit. For the first time, he felt too tired to get behind the stick of the Trident. He shook it off and fell into the cockpit. Going through preflight, his fingers flew across the controls. His hands trembled. Must be the stimulants. The engine hummed, the dashboard coming to life.

He thought of Nubern’s words, the warning his captain had probably learned from a dozen other worlds hit by an otherworldly force. Earth must not meet the same fate.

The fatigue faded, his adrenaline pumping as the stimulants rushed through his body. He strapped on his helmet, looking to his right at Gan as he dropped into the cockpit of his nearby Trident. Austin offered a thumbs up. His eyes weary, Gan returned the gesture as the canopy closed over the fighter.

Austin activated his gamma wave. “Tower, Rock. Are we cleared for takeoff?”

“Whenever you are ready, Rock.”

“Copy. Leaving in sixty seconds.”

Braddock’s Trident lifted off the hangar, the thrust sending swirls of water shooting across the floor. Crew scampered around, most gazing at the fighter as it hovered. They waved.

“Good hunting, Tizona,” Braddock said. “Mission clock starts now. Take your sectors and report any contact. Send your data back to Atlantis when you have it. Use the Whisper. Otherwise, maintain radio silence.”

The pilots acknowledged. The Tridents lifted off one at a time. When Austin’s turn came, he lifted off the hangar floor. He looked over the edge of the canopy, watching the crew wave. He waved back and eased forward to the exit airlock. The Tridents lined up on the far side of the hangar. Austin tucked his Trident into the airlock next to Skylar.

She stared at him. Austin saluted as the airlock closed and filled with water. She returned the gesture.

“Let’s go get this guy,” Braddock said.

A minute later, the outer door opened. Bubbles fluttered around the canopy. The Tridents left the airlock and entered the complete darkness of the ocean floor. Each Trident shot off in its designated direction.

Focusing on his sensors, Austin used his navigation computer to move toward his search sector. The sound of water rushing around his shields made moving the Trident underwater much louder than flying through space. He stared at his sensors, moving the Trident around a series of mountains stretching out from the ocean floor. They loomed on the sensors like invisible giants.

He reached his designated point, dropped a sensor burst and watched the result. An energy wave pulsed from his location, providing a detailed view of the ocean floor as it moved away from their position. Debris littered the ocean floor. Some of it looked like pieces of crashed spacecraft. Probably the result of the day’s battle. He passed a destroyed submersible, the nose buried into the slush of the ocean floor. He scanned for movement. He scanned for electronic pulse. He scanned for gamma waves, for running engines, for any sign of the missing sub.

Nothing.

Transmitting his data back to Atlantis via the whisper, he continued forward and eased the throttle. He leaned back into his seat and sighed. Fighting the urge to look through the canopy and into the darkness, he focused on his sensor readout.

An hour passed, flying from one spot to the next, dropping sensor bursts as he did so. He searched a deep trench and maneuvered through a mountain range, seeing nothing with his own eyes but a few creatures glowing in the darkness. The farther he moved away from Atlantis, the less debris he found from the battle. He reached his sixth marker and dropped another sensor burst.

The pulse shot out from his location, mapping the ocean floor. Leaning back in his seat, he sighed and watched the data come back to the Trident. Perhaps the other fighters were having better luck.

The sensor flickered.

Wait a minute.

Austin rolled his head around, felt his neck pop. An indentation in the ocean floor popped up on the scan. Strange. He pinned the location in his navigation computer and veered to the right, bearing down slowly on the location. Stopping fifty-feet directly above the location, he checked his global coordinates.

Eight hundred miles southwest of California.

He licked his lips and thought for a moment. The indentation in the muck formed a dip in the ocean floor about two hundred yards long. Whatever had stopped here was large enough to be one of the submersibles. Deciding it was worth the risk, he hit the lights.

The ocean floor stretched out. He tilted the fighter forward, the lights of the Trident hitting rocks and casting long shadows over the floor devoid of life. The indentation came to a point, angles forming together like a large triangle. Nothing in nature could have made this shape. The enemy submersible definitely stopped here.