He needed an access port. Easier said than …

  “No, you don’t,” Hoija told him.

  She aimed her pistol between his eyes.

  “It’s over, Hoija. I want to be with my son before the end.”

  “What end? Chinois will have our situation reversed in moments. They’ll require your expertise to repair the worm drive.”

  “Even if he does, I won’t help him anymore. You and I have done enough damage. Moon will not die alone.”

  The lift door slid open. Bonju shifted his eyes between the inside and his once-revered aunt. He didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold.

  “You won’t hurt me, Hoija. I’m your only leverage.”

  The ship buckled. Hoija stumbled backward but did not lose her grip on the pistol. Chinois barked new shipwide orders to prepare for the launch of combat forces.

  “I had high hopes for you,” she said.

  Bonju gripped his weapon tight and imagined finishing what no brave Hokki had been able to do for seven years. Yet he froze.

  Half measures!

  The door slid shut. A pleasant artificial voice, neither male nor female, requested his destination.

  Bonju played the odds. Gambling seemed the surest bet.

  * * *

  Royal pushed through the devastation on the hangar, pleased to see his armor held up so well against fire. He found Lucian amid the wreckage, his makeshift pilot also unhurt. Book was another matter. He did not respond on his suit’s internal comm, and neither man detected his life sign.

  “Shit.”

  A section of the Risen Church shuttle lay at the edge of space, half outside the cascade barrier.

  “Might have been us,” Royal said.

  “He has an hour of air?”

  Ajax shook. Outside the barrier, a network of flickering drones formed a tight wall around the ship.

  “Not sure that’ll do him any good. If the drones didn’t cut him up, he’ll have to hope somedamnbody finds him.” Royal stumbled to maintain his balance as Ajax buckled again. “Sounds like somebody’s trying to cut up these assholes. Must be the Inventor. He was going for help. Guess he found it.”

  Laser blasts bounced off their armor.

  “The fuck?”

  Two soldiers fired at them from a mezzanine platform beneath a giant “3.” Royal reached inside his armor, which phase-shifted, and grabbed a rifle for each hand. His first shots threw the enemy off their game but did not drop them, their dark green chest armor holding firm. He adjusted his aim until the blasts took off their heads.

  Hangar 3 was narrow and deep, laden primarily with drone loaders and manufacturing equipment. Whatever ships the crash did not set on fire appeared to be undergoing maintenance.

  “Looks like we landed in a doctor’s office. This won’t do us any good on the way out.”

  “What’s the plan, General?”

  “Find the Tarons, be heroes. I’ve never had anybody at my feet saying, ‘Royal, you’re amazing. Thank you so much, Royal.’” He studied the setup and contemplated the little he knew about a Swarm Battle Cruiser. “They’re usually scared shitless. Hard to blame them. People know when they’re staring at death.”

  “How do we find them, General?”

  “Command bridge. We fight our way there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Bonju’s too important. These assholes wanna go home, and he has the secrets bottled up topside. Where he goes, Moon goes.”

  The logic sounded too easy, but Royal didn’t see an alternative path for which they had the time or resources.

  “They’ll never survive the fight, General. They don’t have armor.”

  “I’m making this shit up as I go, Lucian. You knew that, right? Let’s do some good old-fashioned wolfing, my friend.”

  He raced toward the hangar’s portal doors, Lucian at his side. As he reached them, Royal understood the scope of what was transpiring.

  “Attention, Ajax. This is your Captain. All FG units and assault pilots report to Hangar 17. Operation Fortitude is now in effect. Essential systems officers and crew, report to your stations. Prepare for full engagement with the enemy. Chinois, out.”

  Royal smiled beneath his helmet.

  “Thanks, Cap. Good to know.”

  Through the open portal, they approached a pair of lifts. The access screen between them offered several options, none of which directly stated the command bridge or its level. Royal tapped a variety of phasic buttons, to no effect.

  “Fine. We go straight for the top and work our way down.”

  “The top does seem like the most logical place for the Captain.”

  “You’d think, but I’ve heard how some of these ships build a temple on the upper deck. The Risen Church above all else, and shit like that.”

  “Then begin with Level 9.”

  “Nah. Something tells me it’s time to go top-down. Here’s the deal, Lucian. Kill anything that moves that ain’t named Taron. Oh, and aim high.”

  The door slipped open. Royal set his finger over Level 10 but did not select it.

  “If we’re lucky, we won’t run into much traffic. Chinois is sending his men to Hangar 17. That’s starboard. I think. I hope. Or maybe, it’s a port hanger. Unless the numbering goes crosswise instead of straight up and down. We’re Level 2 now. Lucian, am I babbling?”

  “You’re very talkative, General.”

  “I must have gotten knocked around worse than I thought.” The lights flickered as Ajax continued to rumble. “That was a lousy landing, by the way.”

  “I know, General. I’ll try to do better next time.”

  “Hope we have one.”

  He pressed the button.

  “General, if the Tarons are surrounded by the enemy …”

  “You’re a damn good shot. Take it.”

  Royal braced for the next bloodbath. He loved mowing down Swarm. Few pleasures in life matched it. If this was meant to be his final assault, he intended to make it his best.

  Royal didn’t have time to contemplate anymore. The lift stopped at Level Four. The door slid open before he took an offensive position. The men in lizard green armor seemed as unprepared for a golden enemy, but they got past their hesitation as quickly as Royal and the soldier he trained.

  Blasts ricocheted in close quarters, and fires erupted as quickly. The golden armor absorbed and redistributed everything, although energy from the Force Drums raised his body heat to sunburn level.

  These Swarm did not fall so easily. Their helmets kept them in the fight, though the momentum of so many point-blank hits pushed them back against the corridor’s opposite wall. Royal did not expect this resilience. He screamed through his helmet:

  “Would you dumb fuckers just die!”

  They did, after much fuss. Their helmets imploded, followed by their brains. Royal didn’t feel the usual exhilaration. This was different, odd.

  Royal was exhausted. He checked his life signs.

  His heart was racing, his blood pressure jumped off the charts, and he had a high fever. The armor took a hell of a beating and distributed its frustrations throughout the synaptic interface.

  “OK?” He asked Lucian.

  “Good to proceed, General.”

  Lucian sounded normal, as if this was routine. Then Royal realized what must have happened. His own suit took days to recover after the fall over Sai-Por City. It must have not returned to full strength. How much more of this could it handle?

  “C’mon,” he told Lucian. “Let’s hope that don’t happen again.”

  “Agreed, General.”

  Royal followed Lucian into the lift but glanced down the corridor before he stepped inside.

  He stopped and looked again. Closer.

  The soldiers they killed weren’t the only ones lying limp. Two figures – one armed without a helmet, the other in civilian clothes – slumped on opposite sides. The civvy moved, his face obscured.

  “Hold the door,” he told Lucian.

  Royal aimed both rifles at the crumpled figures. If somebody was playing dead, he’d come to regret it. The one on the left definitely was not acting. He wore the lizard green, but a deep black hole cut through his cheek beneath his left eye, which stared into oblivion. The man on the right was smaller, thinner.

  Definitely no soldier.

  “Moon?”

  The boy opened his eyes. Blood trickled out the corner of his lips. He moaned as he sat up, Royal holstering his weapons to help.

  “You … you came.”

  “I keep my promises. Well, that’s not true, but I did this time.”

  “Did you find Father?”

  “Not yet. Moon, do you …?”

  The boy was grabbing his left side above his rib cage. Royal pulled back the hand. Moon’s shirt was dark and wet.

  Fuck me.

  “We’re gonna get you out of here, Moon. Hey, Lucian. Give me a hand. Moon, what happened?”

  “Where’s Father?”

  “We’re looking. OK? What happened?”

  They lifted Moon, who stared down at the dead soldier with a bare grin.

  “They were taking me to a cell when the ship was attacked. I think it was attacked.”

  “It was.”

  “There was another asshole. The one that held me over the edge. He was so angry when he wasn’t allowed to drop me. When the alarms went off, the other one said they didn’t have time for me anymore. He ordered this one to shoot me right here in the hall. He didn’t care.”

  “And then?”

  “I’m tired of not fighting.” Moon’s tears fell free. “We should have been fighting them. I reached for his pistol.” He pointed to the dead man. “I didn’t have anything to lose. I shot him, then the other one shot me. There were Swarm everywhere. They were running. I thought he was going to finish me.”

  “But he didn’t. You got some real guts, kid. Warrior guts. Now, we need to get you off this ship while you still have a pulse.”

  “What about Father?”

  “I don’t know. I …”

  Telling him the truth wasn’t an option. Their next stop was a hangar bay, pure and simple. Even if they succeeded, that wound looked bad. He was bleeding too fast. How …?

  “C’mon, we’ll go after him.”

  They didn’t take two steps before Moon said:

  “My family. Did you find my family?”

  “I did. They’re safe. Your mother and all the little kids.”

  Moon sobbed.

  “The Swarm won’t find them?”

  “Not a fucking chance.”

  Capt. Chinois barked a new round of shipwide orders to prepare for combat. He mentioned “cleansing assault.” That was Swarm code for ground attack leaving no survivors and providing no quarter. The hallway lights flashed. The ship felt like it was listing, an effect which implied the artificial gravity was failing.

  “I don’t think this ship’s got a lot of life left in her,” he told Lucian. “Moon, did they bring you here straight from a hangar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which way?”

  Moon swallowed hard and nodded ahead.

  “Then away we go.”

  They approached the first turn, ten meters beyond the lifts.

  “What about Father?” He muttered. “Royal, where’s Father?”

  Royal expected Moon to lose consciousness soon. He refused to answer the question. If they survived, he’d apologize later.

  Then, much to his surprise, Moon received an answer to his persistent questions.

  “I’m here, Son.”

  They pivoted.

  Bonju Taron raced toward them, brandishing a laser pistol and blood running down the side of his face.

  I am not this lucky.

  Moon let go and fell into his father’s arms. Bonju looked over his son’s shoulder.

  “The Church ship. It was you. I was praying.”

  “Yeah. And your family’s safe. Look, I’ll explain everything after we get the fuck off this cruiser. Moon’s been shot. He needs attention fast.” Only then did Bonju realize the stakes. “C’mon, Bonju. We’re going to take our chances in the nearest hangar.”

  Royal led the way with Lucian protecting their flank. Though Bonju supported him, Moon wasn’t powerless. He gave them whatever speed he could.

  At the portal doors entering Hangar 4, Royal went into full battle mode, raising both rifles. He doubted this newest string of luck could continue much longer. He was right, to a degree.

  He encountered two mechanics on the far side, pushing a case of equipment toward the portal. They didn’t wear the same level of protection as FGs. Royal cut them down with one shot each.

  The contents of Hangar 4 left him uneasy.

  Royal had the pick of the litter, but the litter consisted entirely of two-man Legions. These claw-shaped attack ships were sent into combat ahead of ground forces to loosen up the enemy. Very fast, very precise, and difficult to kill.

  Two seats.

  “We got no choice,” he said. “We’re damned near out of time. Follow me to the cascade barrier.”

  Two sudden flashes outside Ajax covered the cascade barrier and all the contents of Hangar 4 in a fire-red cloud. Thunder tore through the great ship, and the dozens of Legions shifted position on the deck. Royal felt light on his feet.

  Too light.

  “Shit. The artificial gravity is failing. Grab hold.”

  He reached for the wing of the closest Legion, and the others followed. He wasn’t stupid: If the system collapsed entirely, even these machines would levitate. After that, of course, nothing would matter.

  “We can still move,” he said. “Follow me to the front as fast as you can. Keep a hand ready to grab something solid.”

  “How are we going to do this, General?”

  “You take one, I take the other, Lucian. Once we’re clear, we’ll figure out the rest.”

  “I might not know how to operate it.”

  “You’re a smart guy. You can do it.”

  “Who do we …?”

  “I’ll take Moon,” Royal said, his eyes on Bonju. “I promise, I’ll do my best for him.”

  “Where?” Bonju said.

  “I’ll signal one of the other ships, if it’s who I think. But they might not be able to come right away. If not, I’ll take him to Pinchon. Ain’t been there in a few years, but I know the city. I’ll get him the best help. I promise.”

  The artificial gravity righted itself.

  “You kept your promise,” Bonju said. “I trust you with my son.”

  “First time anybody’s ever said that to me. Look, we’re almost there. Lucian, when we open the …”

  That’s when Royal saw their lone pursuer.

  Are you serious right now? Really?

  He knew it couldn’t be this easy.

  The woman with a chest of medals fired a shot above them.

  “I warned you, Nephew. You’re not leaving this ship.”

  She didn’t seem oblivious to the men in golden armor, but she also didn’t appear worried. Royal lined up his shot.

  Bonju shouted.

  “This is the end, Hoija. Leave now, or they will kill you.”

  The name brought it all back. Six years of bloody slaughter, with murderous hordes thrown at Hokki civilians under the guise of a legend turned nightmare. Royal heard the reports, saw the images, but never got close enough to take her out. He did have the honor, however, of sending hundreds of her minions to Swarm Hell. He killed her Alpha counterpart at Kara and Ya-Li’s wedding.

  “The Butcher of Hokkaido.”

  “Show your face,” she demanded without a hint of fear.

  She knows it’s over. Has to. The bitch is insane. She wants to go out like a Swarm soldier. I won’t give her the satisfaction.

  Yet he almost did. He reached for his helmet, prepared to swipe it away. Then he’d tear her apart. Wouldn’t she have loved it?

  He never had the chance; someone else finished the job.

  Moon pushed away from Bonju and fired shot after shot. His first laser blast missed, but the others impacted. The last of six caught Moon’s Great Aunt through her most prized medal for valor.

  She swayed, her eyes locked on an image she never encountered in her worst nightmares. She fell against the wing of a Legion and hung there, her uniform caught on a fin.

  Moon dropped his father’s pistol and fell to his knees.

  Bonju tried to lift Moon, but Royal scooped up the boy and carried him to the front row of Legions. Lucian raced ahead and chose two ships. The gates of the flight cabins opened skyward, like the rifters Royal used to love flying through Pinchon.

  Lucian helped him lower Moon and strap in the boy. Then Royal felt a new threat to his good luck: Silence. He looked through the cascade barrier, where nothing remained but the red cloud. The defensive barrier had fallen.

  “We’re out of time.” He grabbed Lucian. “Learn fast, my friend. Fly faster. I’ll see you soon. I hope.”

  30

  M OST OF AJAX VAPORIZED when the final particle missile impacted amidships. A few outer segments spun away in every direction, the largest piece narrowly missing Scylla. In its place, an orange-red cloud appeared to sizzle like the fire of a dying sun then faded.

  Kara felt relieved, which matched the tone in C&C. The cheers she might have expected did not materialize. Despite years fighting and losing to these monsters, the Talons did not crack a smile.

  The remaining AN fleet was another matter. She heard all manner of whooping and hollering. Michael Cooper led the way, cheering his people on despite their own losses in the fight with Stilton.

  Cando returned to the business of combat after firing the kill shot at Ajax. He turned away from Ham, who held out for negotiations, and spoke to Hiro.

  “We saw two ships leaving the Ajax hangars. Any sign?”

  “I’m receiving a faint signal, moving very fast, but I’m unsure if it’s an active target or a reflection in the debris. If the blast didn’t do the trick, the concussion would have torn them apart. The direction it’s moving, we might want the AN to keep an eye out.”

  “Let me know if you pick up anything specific. If we can recover a couple of those bastards, the Captain can have his ‘outstanding sources of intel.’” Cando didn’t try to hide his frustration when he turned his attention to the Crowfoot bridge. “Michael, were you listening?”