Inherited War 3: Retaliation (36 page)

“We need to go. Why don’t we just leave them here and let them catch up?” Hal whined when Split called him.

“Because, our timing must be perfect. Too soon and we die. Too late and, well, we are too late.” Hal sighed and concentrated on landing the ships. He hated when Split got all cryptic.

PART THREE
LAST STANDS

“It is my turn, to take a leap into the darkness.”
Thomas Hobbes

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”
Plato.

“The dead know only one thing: It is better to be alive.”
Private Joker

CHAPTER 18

West stared at the Nixa currently speaking to him. He was speechless, to say the least.

“Wait,” West interjected. “Say that again.” The Nixa looked at West and repeated his last statement.

West was at a loss again. He glanced at Snow and saw deep shock etched into her youthful face. No, this wasn’t right. He had to be wrong.

“Start over from the beginning, and tell me everything,” West said.

“Like I said before,” the Nixa commander said, “Thalo left the shield to go find Snow, and then everything went to hell.” He dove head first into the story.

A few days before.

Jeth had stayed in the same spot since he had watched Thalo leave to find Snow for him. He now regretted making his brother leave and was worried. Thalo had been gone for a day with no attempts at contact. Thalo had moved further away than their bond would allow them to share thoughts, and then further still. Much further than necessary. Snow had been inside a building no more than one hundred yards away. All he could feel from his brother was unease and worry.

Jeth closed his eyes and rested. It was all he could do, and his body still needed it. Thalo was canny and slippery. He would be okay. Jeth dozed for a few hours. Day turned to night and he was suddenly awake. A funny feeling was building in the pit of his stomach. As time went by, it grew more insistent that something was wrong. Jeth’s eyes suddenly flew wide open, and he was on his feet and running as fast as he could. He blasted out of the building like a bulldozer and ignored the panicked shouts of the Nixa around him.  He ran down the block and turned the corner. He flew down the street, his wild flight coming to an end when he ran up against the shield.

Jeth noticed the night had become eerily quiet. The mass attacks against the shield had stopped. He paid no attention to the Nixa who gathered around him. Thousands of them decked out in full combat gear. The quick reaction force had assembled when they saw Jeth come flying out of the building and run to the shield.  They had no official orders, but their commander had reacted to Jeth’s wild flight. Fearing some surprise attack, he had rallied his troops and assembled them on the street. One absently handed Jeth a weapon and a shield modulator. Suddenly, from behind the ruined buildings to their front, lights blared to life and tens of thousands of Roche swarmed out into the open, barely one hundred feet from the shield.

They began to stomp and beat their chests in rhythm, and then were suddenly silent as the crowd of Roche parted. Two individuals walked out into the artificial light. One was an Esii, and the other, bound and chained, was Thalo. Jeth and Thalo’s eyes met and their minds closed the distance in an instant.

“Sorry, brother, I failed.”
Thalo’s voice echoed in Jeth’s head. It was weak and strained. It carried with it unimaginable mental and physical pain.

“No, brother, I failed you.”
Jeth responded with anguish.

“We will meet again.”
Thalo said and gave a weak smile. Then the Esii spoke with the aid of voice amplification so all could hear.

“We have captured your General. The great Worlder, Thalo. He is a foreshadow of what is to come. Surrender and live, or fight and die.” A Roche walked up behind Thalo and kicked him in the back of the legs. His knees buckled and Thalo fell to the ground. He held his head high and kept his face calm.

The Roche waited for the Esii who finally turned around and nodded his head once. The Roche pulled out a large plasma blaster and rested the front of the barrel on the back of Thalo’s head. He pulled the trigger. Thalo’s head disappeared in a bright flash; his headless torso fell forward onto the ground.

Jeth felt his bond mate die and with him, a piece of himself, an important piece. Jeth screamed in inarticulate rage, and unknowingly he turned on his shield module as he ran forward through the shield. The Nixa were only a heartbeat behind.

The Roche and Esii were caught flatfooted, however, and could have never been ready to meet the charge of a berserk Worlder who had just seen them kill his bond mate. Not to mention that, some quick thinking Nixa managed to hit Jeth with a stim just as he began his charge. Jeth reacted to stim’s the way most of his people did. His skin thickened, his muscles bulged, and his vision went red. Jeth didn’t even bother to use his rifle. He needed to feel their deaths. He got his wish.

Both the Esii and the Roche that had killed Thalo died in mashed blobs of gore and blood. That wasn’t enough though. Jeth continued on into the massed front ranks of the Roche. They had been so caught off guard by his sudden and violent charge that they had been slow to bring weapons to bear and had failed to notice the ten thousand or so Nixa behind the mad Worlder.

West looked around the room for confirmation from the other Nixa, who were all nodding their heads in agreement.

“What happened after?” West asked.

“Jeth and the QRF (quick reaction force) were outside of the shield for almost an hour. Tens of thousands of the Roche were killed. We lost some Nixa, though not as many as you would have expected. The Roche were too focused on Jeth and staying away from him to really notice my men. Finally though, even Jeth fell to his wounds and the QRF evacuated his body. He didn’t die, but he is in bad shape. His nanites are keeping him alive and repairing the damage, but whether he has the will to live or not,” the Nixa commander shrugged, “that’s up to him.”

Silence reigned in the room for a minute, to be broken by the sound of Snow smashing her chair into the wall and storming out of the room.

“Shit,” was all Eric could say. “Shit, shit, shit. Cole isn’t going to take this very well.”  He sighed and looked at the Nixa commander. “You in charge then?” he asked.

“For now. I have sent word below but haven’t heard anything yet,” the commander said.

“Well I guess you need to hear this then. Cole has gone to rally the galaxy. He will be here in a few days with a fleet and ground force to take back the planet.” It had been his turn to stun the room.

“How long?” the Nixa commander asked.

“Depends on how fast everyone is. We have been here for almost two days.” West scratched his chin. “Cole should have left a few hours ago. Figure four or five days and he should be back. A week at the most.”

“Impossible!” the commander almost shouted. “Even for him. No one can bring in enough of the different species so fast. If we have to wait on the galaxy coming to our aid, then we are doomed.”

“Not likely pal,” West retorted. “I know Cole and I know he is coming for one simple reason.”

“And that is?” The commander took the bait.

“Cole would have never sent me down here if he thought I would die with you. Now here is the information he wanted you to have. Attack plans, landing sites, all the bullshit you need to accommodate his landing. Get it down to your high command and get it disseminated out to all your defense forces.” West handed him a small data chip, which the commander took and plugged into a wired com system.

“Now,” West asked, “where do you want us?” At that exact moment, the electric hum in the background that was the shield dome suddenly stopped. Most had pushed it into the background after living with it for days on end, but Eric and his team who were not so used to it, reacted first.

“The shield is down!” they all shouted as one and activated their helmets. They ran to the window facing out towards the enemy in time to see the last remains of the shield flicker and die. The building suddenly lurched as the massed fire of the Roche broke through and slammed into the roof and walls.

West and his team split up and each grabbed a window. They smashed them open and began firing out into the street. Fortunately, the Roche were also caught off guard and their fire faltered for a moment as they adjusted to the sudden dropping of the shield.

West listened as the reports came flooding in. Something had happened to the generators and they had malfunctioned. He heard the commander of the Nixa forces shouting at them to get them going again—he wasn’t doing much for moral. In fact, he was on the verge of panicking. West turned on his all channel coms. The Nixa hadn’t been using wireless communications because it had been jammed by the Esii. He was betting they couldn’t jam his.

“Defend your positions!” he shouted into his mic. “Hold the line until the shield comes back up.” Staggered at first, but growing in volume, fire began to come out of the buildings directed at the Roche. He turned on his external speaker and shouted at the commander.

“Can they get the shield up?”

“Not yet. The generators are down,” the commander shrieked back at him.

“Fuck it,” West mumbled under his breath. “How about the shields for the next fall back. Aren’t they different ones?”

“Yes, but they haven’t fully charged yet.” West ignored the commander and took charge.

“Begin fall back procedures. Get ready to abandon and bring down the buildings.” He heard affirmative responses from all around the city as local commanders acted on his orders. He never stopped firing the whole time.

“Drew!” he shouted at his friend. “Get out the Pig.” Drew stopped firing and retreated through the room to their packs. He unloaded a few random pieces and began to assemble them on the floor, doing his best to ignore the growing layer of smoke and constant concussions of incoming fire. He had the weapon assembled and ready to go in under a minute. He ran up to West’s position and shoved the gun in his hands.

West dropped his rifle and snatched at the large weapon. It was mostly barrel; at least that’s what it seemed to West. It had a three-inch diameter and was about three feet long. It had a pistol grip, no sights, a battery pack, and a large opening for the rounds.

As soon as West’s hand touched the grip and he looked out the window, a counter came to life on his HUD and he watched as target dots started to appear on the massed enemy to their front. As more red dots appeared, the counter ticked down from one thousand. It took about ten seconds for the weapon to lock onto all available targets.  West turned his head slightly to get just a few more into range, the counter hit zero.

“Take this assholes,” he muttered to himself and pulled the trigger. The weapon barked and out came a thousand pellets the size of BB’s. Except these BB’s were titanium and guided. They left the barrel in a mass shot but soon split up and sought their targets. All hit home, and one thousand Roche died in an instant. West grabbed the action. It was exactly like a shotgun from back home. He pulled it back and the spent housing fell out. As he slammed it forward, a thousand more rounds entered the chamber. Ten seconds later, he fired again, another thousand Roche fell.

The holding action lasted for twenty minutes before all personnel could be evacuated behind the next phase of the defense. The Nixa suffered their worst casualty numbers of the war so far, but they managed to make it back to their next line of defense and blow the buildings to cover their retreat. The new shield popped up and they were once again safe from the enemy, for a while, at least. West got the report. The shield was only seventy-five percent charged and the failed generators would take a long time to get working again.

“Get anything you can that generates power and hook it up to the system. We need to keep that shield up until Cole arrives. We can’t risk any more open confrontation. Where is the commander?” West asked, realizing he hadn’t been seen in a while.

“He didn’t make it, Sir,” a Nixa reported.

“Who is in charge then?” West asked and heard his men snicker.

“Uh, aren’t you, Sir?” the flustered Nixa asked.

“Shit,” West said and looked around. He turned on his all hands coms. “Everyone listen up, this is what I want.” West hated leading men. He didn’t want their lives in his hands. He wanted to be in the thick of the action and only have to worry about the guys to his left and right. He didn’t want this. He began to give orders.

Snow had wanted to find Jeth, badly. But she couldn’t face him. He had chosen her over his brother and had paid the ultimate price a Worlder could pay. She ran, fast and deep. She found the entrance to the underground and went down as far as she could go. She found an empty room and sat in the corner. She scrunched her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees, and rocked slowly back and forth. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were the heroes of the story, just like all the ones her father had told her in her youth. The heroes lived, in every one of those stories. Thalo was dead. He put truth to that lie. Snow was content to lie here and wait for the end, whatever that would be.