Voyage to Athelon (War of the Three Planets Book 5) Read online

  "Segaris?"

  "I'm going!" the Reblon replies, already bolting from the corridor towards the port side weapons console.

  "What's the status of starboard weapons?" Drewsk asks, punching another plunger on the console.

  Luxen's voice squawks from the intercom. "Controls are in place, plasma batteries are intact. Barrels are assembled, but the cannon is not mounted!"

  Drewsk shakes his head as he adjusts the controls again, bringing the ship into a cautious right bank.

  I break away from the cockpit and run back towards the hold, bracing my hands on the wall as the ship lurches again. Rapid popping rattles along the surface of the roof above my head as low yield plasma bolts strike. Busting out into the hold, I veer left and head towards the weapons console.

  Luxen and Pung are visible ahead, hunched over the hastily assembled cannon. The slanted wall to their left is double sealed with a clear bubble curved over the section of wall as a rudimentary airlock.

  "Two minutes!" I shout to them as I dash past. "Get it ready for mounting!" All around me I hear the sounds of the ship taking fire as the floor shifts under my feet, making running quite a challenge. Past the hold, I sweep my arm out and snag the silver suit off the hook, leaving the jet pack hanging where it is. Within a split second, I'm in Reblon form, running back towards Luxen and Pung, slipping one leg into the space suit as an echoing smash sends the ship jumping left.

  "I don't know how much more of this we can take," I say.

  "This is nothing," Luxen replies. "They're shooting to disable only. If these are Scalebacks, they want to steal this ship, not wreck it."

  With a snap of my fur-covered arm I sweep the zipper up and latch it around my shoulders, pulling up the hood and activating the face shield. Less than thirty seconds and the reinforced armor suit is wrapped around me like a second skin.

  "You and Pung pull back," I bark at Luxen, my voice a tinny echo from within the suit. They both nod and obey, moving back towards the opposite weapons system.

  Taking their place, I punch a code into a panel on the wall, which reveals a red lever. Yanking the red lever releases an automatic door with thick seals from the ceiling to slam home into the floor and walls. A single bulb above the door flashes green to indicate the seal is good, so I immediately spin and run to the other end of the corridor to repeat the motion. Two more thundering crashes jostle the ship as I activate the secondary air lock, closing in this section of corridor to seal it off from the rest of the ship.

  At the wall of the ship near the cannon, I wrap my fingers around a wheel mechanism and give it a swift left spin. When it clanks to a halt, I yank back towards myself to pop open a gaping hole between the corridor and the vacuum of space. Escaping air screams past me to battle its way out of the new hole in the ship. Behind the airlock doors I can hear fresh klaxons screaming. I can only imagine what's going through Drewsk's mind right now.

  Still in Reblon form, I bend over and wrap my thick arms around the weapons system which is a large, clumsy series of mechanical components bolted together into a series of rounded shapes. I identify the four barrels, all retracted, and lift the heavy piece of equipment. With my arms straining, I turn and press the cannon system into the hole left by the panel removal, and work the four barrels through four small holes in the clear dome cover on the outside of the ship. It takes precious time to get them all lined up.

  Through the clear dome I can see streaks in space not far away as the Scaleback ships arc around to get a better angle on us. Among the streaking cruisers I see the larger transport taking a deadly angle, directing its snout straight towards our starboard side. There is not enough time.

  With a loud grunt, I lunge forward to press the cannon mechanism into the receptacle. It finally slams home with a loud clank and the low hiss of a sealing airlock. When it is tightly in position, it releases sealant foam that fills the cavities within the small compartment.

  I look blankly at several hoses strewn about near my feet just as two slams of plasma strike the starboard side of the ship, a little to the left of the cannon I just barely got in place. With the klaxons finally quiet, I hear faint chirps from behind the airlock door just before it whooshes swiftly open, revealing Luxen and Pung on the other side.

  "It's sealed!" Luxen shouts.

  "Move, boy!" Pung follows, directing Luxen towards the floor where the cables are lying. Luxen bolts towards me, then slides down into a skid. His hands deftly scoop up the stray cables. He locates the other ends swiftly and connects them together, twisting clamps at key places throughout the ribbed tubes.

  Pung grabs an extended panel on the rear of the cannon system and yanks it out, pulling a small platform out from beyond the compartment. With a grunt, he swings his massive, fur-covered leg over the seat, lowers himself into it, and grasps the twin controls that were revealed when the seat was pulled out.

  It's like watching a beautiful orchestra. Pung shifts left, swiveling the weapons system, then pulls both triggers. Outside of the clear dome I can see all four barrels, now fully extended, blasting orange light in streaks. Off in the distance, one of the Scaleback cruisers blasts apart in a flare of orange and red, though the transport dives underneath the first volley.

  I'm just stepping out of the spacesuit when Drewsk's voice echoes over the speaker system again.

  "Attention, crew," his voice is calm, yet insistent. "We are running dangerously low on fuel. Our options for evasive maneuvers are quickly running out. Prepare for boarding!"

  No way! I bolt down the hallway towards the hold and barges into the cockpit.

  "You can't do this!" I shout to Drewsk. "We can't just sit here!"

  Drewsk spins in his chair, his eyes wide. "I don't have a choice! Hull integrity is down to fifteen percent. Even if we cut engines now, I'm not sure we have enough fuel to make it to the refueling station. We either cut engines on our terms or on theirs."

  All I can do is shake my head as I turn and run back down the hallway. If nothing else, at least I'm getting some cardio today.

  "Pung!" I shout as I approach. "That transport is the lead ship, I'm certain of it! Drop that thing and we might have a shot at this!"

  "What do you think I've been trying to do?" he asks as he rotates the gun swiftly left and fires another barrage. The transport banks smoothly left, letting the four beams scream just underneath it. Pung adjusts, spins left, and fires again, but again the transport narrowly avoids the onslaught. One of the cruisers behind it isn't so lucky and takes all four shots directly to the bridge, then disappears in a shattering white cloud.

  "He's underneath our range!" Pung shouts, trying to lower the cannon barrels as far as they can go, but still the transport dives lower.

  "Segaris!" I shout, hoping he can hear me from here.

  "I see him!" I hear the reply, faint from the other side of the ship. More cannons fire. "He's too fast!"

  "Don't tell me that!" I reply as I run back towards the other side of the ship. I don't even make it halfway.

  The shattering blast echoes from the roof, just over the hold. A massive, ship-shaking slam pushes our freighter down with the impact. I stumble and reach out, barely catching myself.

  "What is that?"

  "They're boarding!" screams Pung from right behind me. I turn as he tosses me a plasma rifle, which I catch in my left hand.

  "Take defensive positions!" Loren shouts from the corridor leading to the cockpit. She's carrying a slender, long-barreled weapon herself.

  Across from me on the other side of the hold, I see Shrag emerge with his own Bragdon weapon clutched tightly as he hovers behind the wall of the hallway. Up above us I hear the scream of slicing metal and loud clangs.

  The ceiling begins glowing a low orange and I lower myself to one knee, lifting my weapon. I see Pung coming up on my right, his own weapon lifted. Loren is to our right and Shrag is on the other side of the hold. Everyone is paused with weapons prepped and ready.

  A rough circle of orange forms on the ceiling like a clumsy finger painted picture from a young child. The metal bubbles and twists and I can feel the heat from several feet away. They're cutting in.

  "Hold," Pung whispers.

  With one last bang and hiss, the metal circle seems to dip slightly, then bursts from the ceiling, dropping downward until it slams loudly on the circular table in the middle of the hold. The noise echoes throughout the ship as it strikes it, then slides off to the left, leaving a swift belch of smoke and the stink of burnt steel.

  "Get ready!" Loren barks in a hushed whisper, all of our weapons are pointed towards the center of the hold, just waiting for the first glimpse of the enemies breacheng the ship.

  Almost unnoticed, a tiny silver ball drops down through the hole in the ceiling, trailing smoke. With a soft clank it strikes the table, then rolls down the slanted surface and hits the floor, crawling in an oblong curve with a sound of metal sliding against metal.

  "What is that?" Pung asks.

  Then it explodes.

  Explodes probably isn't the right word. With a swift split down the center of the round shape it breaks apart and bursts forward with a hot flash of white light that is brighter than anything I've ever seen before. The drastic change in illumination caused by the sudden, aggressive flash punches each of us in our eyes. The visual attack so unexpected that we all grunt and cry out at ounce, draw back, and instinctively throw our hands over our eyes.

  "Flash bomb!" Loren shouts blinking rapidly behind two out-turned palms. Her other two hands hold the sniper rifle, but the barrel is pointed at the ground. "They're coming in!"

  I try to blink through the blinding haze. I can see the vague, large shape of something barreling down through the opening in the ceiling. It's a Bragdon, I believe, though instead of being narrow and lithe like most I've seen, it's tall, broad, and round.

  He strikes the floor with a massive bang. His knees bend as his massive bulk lands, and a whipsaw snap of his thick tail cuts through the smoke behind him. It almost looks like he has a long, narrow fin cutting over the top of his head, though it's tough to tell through the residue of the bomb.

  "Cover!" Pung shouts to my right. As he moves forward, his left shoulder pounds me and shoves me to my left into the wall.

  Already this Bragdon intruder is leveling a weapon and unleashing a volley of plasma. Pung gets off three shots himself, one of which wings the Bragdon on the right shoulder, but Pung pays the price, taking an orange blast of light directly to the left side. To his credit, the Reblon doesn't scream, he just clenches his lips, closes his eyes, and stumbles backwards.

  I glance over to spot Loren move in, drop to one knee and raise her rifle to fire a narrow green beam. It cuts through the torso of a second Bragdon as he plummets from the opening, and throws the creature backwards to hit the ground head-first and tumble over. Loren appears to be getting her vision back.

  Across the hold, Shrag moves around his cover and fires twice at the large Bragdon, but misses wide. The broad-shouldered lizard whirls with his own weapon firing, but Shrag pulls back just in time to let the light scatter across the metal to his right. As the Bragdon turns, I bring my weapon around, sight on his right shoulder blade, and unleash a swift cluster of three shots. The weapon jumps in my hands as yellow ovals burst free and arc through the air towards the enemy. Two of them strike home, burying into his pale, gray skin. He sends a scream of agony out into the bright air as he stumbles forward clumsily.

  Two smaller, more normal sized Bragdons drop through the hole. Both Shrag and I attempt to fire on them, but they hit the rounded table and bound off through the air, evading our fire. Loren tracks one of them and just as it lands, she fires, dropping him with a single rifle shot. The second one covers several yards in a single leap and lands on top of Shrag. His hands clutch Shrag's head and slam it into the metal wall with an echoing bang that is loud enough to tell me that Shrag will be lucky if his skull's not caved in.

  The light is dimming as the flash bomb fades. Loren lifts her rifle towards the opening as three more Bragdon forms fill the empty space there. They scatter as she fires, then squeeze out into the hold to charge towards Loren, who they've obviously identified as the more dangerous foe.

  Swiveling, I fire my weapon and drop one of them, but the other two are too close to the Athelonian, so I toss my gun aside and run at them with my legs pumping. Loren swings her rifle like a club, smashing the stock into the first Scaleback's face, but the second is already on top of her with his hands pressing into her shoulders and driving her back into the floor. She groans with the impact.

  I throw myself into the air, curl my knee to my chest, then thrust it out to strike one of the reptiles clean in the chest. He launches backwards, blasting back-first into the wall with spit flying from lips as he topples sideways.

  I shift to see the second one leaping at me. Dodging two quick strikes, I move in and return the favor, driving one fist into his ribs, then the second into the elongated, scale-covered jaw. Three sharp, needle fangs break away and fly from his mouth as I advance for another volley.

  I see a shadow out of the corner of my eye as I shove him back against the wall. Something large fills the hole in the ceiling, and that same large thing pushes itself through, dropping down to the fallen circle of ceiling with a rattling smash.

  Turning, I let the Scaleback I'm facing slump to the ground and come face to face with the nastiest looking Bragdon warrior I have ever seen.

  He's large, like the first one, but more tall than broad. A torn fin extends from his forehead and over the bumpy slope of his scalp, but most of it has been ripped away over time. A thick gun metal plate is bolted to the left side of his face, and his left eye is a solid orange bulb instead of a normal functioning socket. The metal plate extends down to his chin and in fact his entire jaw is made from the artificial material, with jagged, metallic fangs poking out from his clenched mouth.

  The same metal material covers his left shoulder over a mountainous region of pale, gray skin, ragged and rough, almost as if the mere act of existence has weathered him like the surface of a particularly hostile planet. As he stands up straight, he looks over to the large, fallen Bragdon and snarls.

  "Brutgaz," he hisses. "Get up."

  To my shock, the huge Bragdon obeys. Even with three plasma wounds, his large arms bend, his palms press against the floor, and he erects himself into a half crouch, looking over at me with narrow eyes.

  "Who are you?" this new Bragdon asks as he takes a step towards me. "This ship is ours now. You may as well accept that."

  "Yeah, not so much," I say, and charge forward, expecting to take him by surprise. I swing a swift leg around, but he bats it aside with hardly an effort, his rock-solid arm like kicking a hunk of steel. Undeterred, I swivel on my foot, tuck the same leg in and thrust it out in a back kick, striking the Scaleback in the chest, and he takes a single step backwards, but does not fall. Drawing my leg back to my body, I jump into the air at him, swinging yet another kick towards his broad, metal chin. His hand shoots up and four long fingers wrap around my ankle as it cuts the air towards him, then he yanks up, pulling me into the air. Swiveling at the waist, he swings over his head and down, drilling me hard into the floor. I strike shoulder first and struggle not to cry out as fireworks dance behind my squinting eyes.

  I lay there on my side for a moment, my shoulder, ribs, and legs a throbbing flame of pain. He simply looks down at me, his one eye narrowing, his fists clenching, the strobing red lights of the ship's alarm reflecting off his metallic components.

  "Why?" I ask him from my prone position. I can't think of any other question to ask.

  "This is Scaleback territory. I am Rorjak, the commander of the Krelix Sector. You are trespassing."

  "You and your goons were hiding in the asteroids," I reply before my brain can actually catch up to my mouth. "How were we supposed to know we were trespassing?"

  A crooked smile separates his metal jaw from the scaly face attached. "You are funny, little one. I like you. We'll kill you last."

  "What is the point of any of this?" I ask. "We have nothing of value on this ship. Not even fuel. There's nothing here that's worth anything to you."

  He leans over, sneering at me. "Now you know how it feels to be a Bragdon caught between Athelon and Reblon, don't you, little girl? Pointless... Worthless... Yet, we persist."

  With a gruff sigh, he stands back upright and lumbers towards the corridor, the large one he called Brutgaz trails behind with his thick tail coiling along the floor.

  "So help us stop this stupid war."

  Rorjak halts. His large shadow bends over the fallen form of Pung and he turns his head to face me.