“Out there where someone is firing lasers and missiles at us?”

  “Yeah, what… you want to live forever?” Halo said with a nervous chuckle.

  “No,” the big kid said, lumbering out past the safety markings. “I wouldn’t mind making it through the rest of the day, though.”

  I briefly considered telling the men some of what Deb had said but knew this wasn’t the time. We needed to be together and focused on the mission.

  “Ada, get me Captain Orric.”

  Sounds from the bridge echoed into my helmet. “Situation, Captain.”

  Valyn sounded calm as he smoothly laid out the most relevant points. “Unknown ship, unknown capabilities. The initial attack caught us off-guard as the missiles seem to be using some type of stealth field. Only saw them the last few kilometers when their targeting radar went active. Profile and blast signatures do not match any known enemy or allied weaponry.”

  “So, is the enemy ship in range? What about the rail guns?” I asked.

  “Kovach, we have this handled. Just be ready.” He paused, and I sensed he was issuing orders. “Probably like you, I think this is merely a distraction. They must want the ship intact.”

  I felt a stab of icy fear as I realized I’d just handed the ship over to a possible enemy. Still, it felt like the right decision. Also, he knew how to use this massive weapon; I was just playing Captain. Back here was where I belonged.

  “Orric, one thing.”

  “Yes, Prowler.”

  “No time to go into it, but do not give up control of this ship, not to anyone. Including Lieutenant Debra Riggs.”

  “Not sure I understand, she is the listed commander of the bridge wing.”

  “I know, and she is a gifted soldier and a friend, but I don’t think her goals and ours are the same right now. She’s regained consciousness, so it’s something we’re going to have to deal with. Let’s just choose a better time and place for that—deal?”

  “Deal, sir. Good hunting.”

  I changed the switch for team comms, then selected the one I wanted.

  “Hey, Lux, how you doing?”

  “I’m great! This thing is awesome.”

  “You know what you are supposed to do?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said with a tone that closely mimicked the crisp communication style of the other team members. “Keep anyone from out there from getting in here?”

  Simple and accurate, I thought.

  “No heroics, kid, okay? Your mom will skin me if you get hurt. You’re our backup, alright?”

  “Yes…sir.” His voice had a somewhat more subdued tone now. I didn’t bother to inform him that his mom was going to have my hide in either case once she found out what I’d had him do.

  “Contact, starboard side, four o’clock low,” Koog said.

  “Ada, make sure his suit is in active camo. I want him blending into the ship’s hull.” I then gave the orders to make ready. In seconds, two targets popped into the open hangar door. They were heavily armored, and we let them get well inside the bay before Halo and Priest both made coordinated head shots. Both invaders went down.

  “They aren’t Alliance or Coalition. No insignia at all,” Halo said, echoing my own thoughts as I zoomed in on the enemies’ battle suits.

  I heard Koog, but the limited battle space was heating up too quickly to focus on the man’s words. I had barely enough time to radio up that we had boarders, when the entire hangar seemed to erupt into a massive firefight. There were dozens of things I should have considered. Risk to the ship, having a kid on the fire team, how much could Gi handle after his recent injuries, but my focus, my entire reason for being, was tunneling down to a very specific point. Bayou had it right, not today, but weeks ago when she said it, “They die first.” That was the way to run this mission and… win this war. My Rattler was placing precise and regular shots down range. Enemy soldiers were falling, but not enough. For every one of them who fell, it seemed two more took their place. No matter how good or how fast Banshee was, there were limits. The math just wasn’t in our favor.

  Sumo wanted off his virtual leash, but there was little he could do to men in space-rated battle armor. The hangar deck was now occupied by dozens of combatants. I had Ada call up the Marines and Hauk’s troops. I’d held them behind the blast doors just in case I was wrong about how and where the attack would come from. Now, we needed them. Hell, we needed all the trigger-pullers we could find. Banshee’s elite status didn’t help when it became a numbers game.

  Priest dropped to one knee as a violent blast caved in the decking where he was standing. Gi dashed over, blasting a combatant into pieces as he grabbed an arm and hoisted his fellow soldier out and over to a position of cover.

  I could tell that Priest wasn’t the only one injured although he was getting back to his feet already. We were being overrun, and the help from the Marines holding our rear guard was ineffective against the overwhelming frontal assault.

  “Who are we fighting, Ada?” I asked, as multiple rounds seemed to impact the same spot on my helmet. These guys were fucking good.

  “Unknown, Prowler.”

  “Take a fucking guess, then.”

  “Based on various tactics, armor, and weaponry, I would guess they are Tier-1 PMCs… hired guns!”

  Mercenaries, yeah that fit, but the best of the best. If our enemy had recruited globally, that could be a huge number of operators. We had to reshape the battle space quickly.

  “Lux, you’re up, buddy,” I said, then had Koog join the fight. I slapped fresh mags into my rifle. Odd thing about armor. If both sides have it, then the advantages are neutralized. It comes down to precision and tactics or who wants it more. Halo’s sniper shots were still taking a toll, but most of the shots each side was throwing had little actual effect.

  “Going kinetic, guys,” I charged.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTY-ONE

  Carol leaned in closer. Debra’s voice was weak and gravelly, but her eyes were as sharp as ever. They could both feel the missile launchers firing two decks below. She could barely hear the woman’s words.

  “You have to make him st…top.”

  “Joe? You want me to stop him from what? Fighting back?” Carol gave a nervous giggle. “You have met him, right?”

  Deb offered a false smile, she was fading again, the cocktail of drugs in her system forcing her back into unconsciousness. “He can’t win this, Carol. And…” The lieutenants’ eyes closed sleepily. “He’s going to get us all killed,” she said faintly.

  “How Deb? How is fighting off the enemy going to do that?” What she first assumed was the ramblings of someone delirious was ratcheting up to full-blown panic.

  “How?” she repeated. She knew he wouldn’t stop without more specifics than a vague warning. She doubted he would stop at this point no matter what. Joe was a warrior, a protector. It wasn’t what he did—it was who he was.

  Deb’s hand reached out and clutched Carol’s shirt with surprising strength and pulled her close.

  “Tell him this,” she rasped out in a whisper. Her next words shot ice into Carol’s veins.

  “He can blow our reactors if he doesn’t get the ship. He has the codes.”

  Carol stood quickly and raced from the room. Now she was desperate to get to Kovach.

  She took the stairs at the mid-deck access, turned, and started sprinting for the aft hangars. That had to be where Joe had gone. Rounding the corner, she ran headlong into a soldier who tossed her aside in a protective move.

  Carol lay there dazed, looking up into the cold eyes of the blonde girl. It took a second for her name to register. “Chelsea?”

  Chelsea just stared at the woman. She had a mission, and this busybody loved getting into her business. What was she doing here now of all times? Chelsea shifted the food container to the other hand. If anyone asked, she was bringing lunch to the prisoner… just doing her part.

  The uniformed man reluctantly offered her a hand up. Carol reached up and felt the egg size knot forming on her head where she’d clipped the bulkhead.

  “What’s the hurry?” the man asked.

  “Have to, have to get to Kovach,” Carol said, still dazed.

  “Good luck with that, I hear reports they are fighting off a boarding party from that ship.”

  Carol was having trouble putting together anything sensible but nodded. She turned to leave.

  Chelsea decided to toss a verbal hand-grenade as Howell had informed her of a small detail that she felt sure Carol was unaware of.

  “Your son is in there fighting with them?”

  Carol froze and turned back to the woman. “What?”

  “Yeah, the corporal here even helped them fabricate a kid-sized suit of armor for him just like his hero.”

  The man smiled and nodded. “Yep, smallest set the fabricators could print.”

  “Lux is in there with them?”

  Chelsea shrugged uncertainly. “Guess so.”

  Carol turned and fled down the corridor in a blind panic. Chelsea smiled. “Bitch.”

  Turning back, they headed up the short hall to the security wing. No one else would be around to bother her now. Rob had told her that every soldier had been called to the hangar bay to prevent enemy incursion.

  “That woman will never get into that bay,” he said laughing. “They will have a gauntlet of Marines and Red-7 troops between her and her kid.”

  “I know, but it’s fun to screw with the simpletons.”

  Another round of missiles shook the deck plating. It seemed the battle was ramping up out there as well. Chelsea fingered the small ID card hopefully, then felt the gun in her pocket. She would like to be there to see what happened to that bastard Kovach, but getting answers from the witch was her priority. She just had to hope she could control her fear better this time.

  “Hey, you there!” a voice called out. “Corporal Howell.”

  “Oh, fuck,” Rob said, turning slowly.

  Lance Corporal Hadroop stood a dozen yards away, his assault rifle hanging loosely. “Come with me, we must haul more magpacks to the hangar deck. The lads are running low.”

  Rob glanced at Chelsea before nodding and following his superior. Chelsea shrugged it off, she was deep enough now that she didn’t think an escort was necessary. Too many other things happening for anyone to worry about someone taking food to the prisoner.

  They had found the guard she’d hit. He remembered nothing, and everyone assumed he hit a bulkhead in the earlier attack. The good thing for her was they hadn’t changed his access code—she hoped. Chelsea waved the ID card and the hatch clicked open. She checked to make sure everyone else was gone, then tossed the boxed lunch in the trash. She then used again used the ID to open the door to the brig and moved in to see the WitchWalker looking exactly the same as before, except they had her dressed in one of the standard gray shipboard jumpsuits now.

  Chelsea grinned maniacally as she opened the thick, clear door to the cell. This was what she had been waiting for. Five minutes alone with this thing. She would get her answers. There was no fear, no sense of impending dread this time. Chelsea smiled; she’d conquered those internal demons as well.

  If the other woman took any notice of her, it was impossible to tell. Chelsea was tired of the act and backhanded the woman across the face. Blood spewed from a cut opening on her lip, but otherwise the blow seemed not to register.

  She hit the witch several more times in quick succession. Chelsea was winded by the third blow, the witch’s face was beginning to swell, and her nose was also bleeding. Still, she showed no sign of registering the attack.

  “What happened to my children?” Chelsea yelled. “What in the fuck are you?”

  The woman sat in mute testament to whatever drove her. The attacks meant little to her, the pain—nonexistent. What she did have, like all of her Sisters, was the gift of foreshadowing. Not always the secret sight of things not yet happened, but glimpses of possibilities. In this case, she had seen all that was unfolding. None of it was a surprise.

  Chelsea gathered herself up for another assault bringing up a knee into the seated woman’s face. Her strike found nothing but open air. Moving faster than Chelsea thought humanly possible, the witch was behind her driving a powerful punch into her lower back. That was followed by two powerful slaps to her ears bursting both eardrums simultaneously. Pain shot through her skull like a knife.

  A back kick connected with her mouth, loosening several teeth. Chelsea spat out the blood, turning to see her attacker raising the stool for a strike. Chelsea braced, but the woman turned away in a 360-degree arc and caught her under the chin, snapping the jaw bone and fracturing her neck.

  In horror, Chelsea realized she couldn’t move. Her one eye that seemed to be working saw the woman’s bare feet move close. If she stomped down, Chelsea knew she would be dead. Instead, the witch knelt and spoke in a voice that sounded like wind on a dark night.

  “They are in a better place, Chelsea Adams. Anywhere would be better than with you.”

  Chelsea watched as the feet retreated out of the cell. Tears filled her eyes, but her broken body wouldn’t even let her mourn.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTY-TWO

  I unleashed everything my suit had to push back the front line of assaulters. My Rattler carved a path through the enemy, and I saw Gi moving up along my left side doing the same. Maybe I could keep going, but my magazine charge was racing toward zero. “Koog, get some,” I yelled. I felt a plasma round reach skin beneath my hip joints. Other enemy troops began targeting me and pushed me back the several hard-earned yards.

  A fireteam from Red-7 had set up some of the K8 Disruptors, not real effective in space, but I welcomed them just the same. The massive rounds took out several of the invaders at once. “Give ‘em hell, boys!”

  “Priest is down again,” I heard Halo say.

  I ordered Koog to fill in the line on that side. “Push them!” The tactic would have worked with a less well-trained or more lightly armored enemy. These guys were a much more even match for us, and they had the numbers. I hated to do it, but I gave the silent order.

  The Decimator unlatched, and Lux all but pirouetted the giant war machine into the heart of the battle. The twin plasma cannons began spitting out rounds that were an order of magnitude stronger than anything either side had. The shots chewed through the enemy armor and meat like they were paper mâché.

  “Clear shooting vectors,” I ordered as we began crab walking to each side, staying under the kid’s assaulting fire. I hoped Ada was controlling the weapons, but seeing the movement and target selection, I was less than certain. The Decimator was a fucking killing machine, and I had no idea how I’d ever battled the things. It took less than half a minute to clear the hangar of enemy troops.

  “Koog, see what else we have coming in. Lux, reload that thing,” I yelled, my voice already breaking from the fatigue. “Banshee, reload in turn.”

  I didn’t think it was over, but Orric’s warning that the other attack might be a distraction kept ringing in my ears. The pile of dead bodies ahead of us was a pretty high price to pay for a distraction, though.

  “Corpsman!” I yelled, seeing Priest pulling himself across the floor toward us. A damaged leg left a trail of blood back to where he’d fallen.

  The Marine medics and I got there at the same time. “Good shooting, Priest. You good?”

  He nodded. “I will be, sir.” They pulled him onto the power litter and raced toward the rear hatch.

  Lux was coming out of the Warbot, and I realized he was in a full battle kit. The armorer must have decided he needed to really be part of the team. I fist bumped the little guy. I could see through his visor that his eyes were big as saucers. Then I realized he was seeing the casualties and the blood. Ada had undoubtedly shielded him from most of that down in the cockpit, but out here….

  “It’s not like a video game, is it?”

  “No, Lux, it isn’t. In fact, it’s the ugliest thing in the world,” I said sadly.

  I pulled the team patch off of my own armor and handed it to him. “I think you more than earned this today.”

  He raked his helmet back into its receiver, looked down, and slapped it on his shoulder, the magnetic patch adhering instantly.

  “Uh, oh!”

  I heard it at the same time. “Oh, shit!”

  Both of us had the same look as my blood ran cold and pretty sure Lux wanted desperately to become invisible.

  “Mom,” he said in a dry whisper.

  Turning around, I could just see Carol’s arms frantically waving over the head of the soldiers guarding the hatch. She was yelling frantically for Lux. “Too late to hide, isn’t it?” He asked.

  I laughed, signaling for them to let Carol approach. I was going to catch hell, but I deserved it.

  Monitoring the attack up on the bridge, Xero briefly noticed a light blink on in an auxiliary service sub-routine. She thought nothing of it, but it was one more reason she was determined to get the entire operating system of the Stone Mountain overhauled as soon as she could. Ada had even allowed her to copy her code into a type of sub-mind that she could mold into the ship’s neural network. She trusted machines to keep an eye on the complex systems much better than humans.

  What Chelseas’ code did was mostly harmless; it bypassed one set of safety systems that required the hangar bay stasis generators to be active anytime the massive airlock doors were open. Otherwise, anytime an incoming ship landed, everything in the bay would get sucked out along with the air.

  Carol rushed to her son, pausing briefly when she realized he really was in a battle suit. She pulled him into her arms before glaring at Joe with a pure hatred only a wronged mother could manage.

  “I trusted you, Joe.”

  Kovach looked back at the pile of mutilated bodies, the blood, pieces of soldiers that coated nearly every inch of the rear deck. He’d fucked up, he knew that.

  Just as he turned back, his helmet snapped closed, and his boots magnetically locked themselves to the decking. He saw Lux’s had as well.