Kantian presses a button on his station. The grinding metal scraping ceases. Several alarms discontinue.
“Are you on the Celesta, Sir?”
“The Zayars have ratified the UCP Constitution. More importantly, the Mokarran are positioning for a new armistice. They have agreed to withdraw from Summersun as a show of good faith. The battle is over.”
Hundreds in his crew are dead.
Speechless.
Hell, thoughtless. Kantian has no response to the news. It’s what he wanted. But somehow his victory seems overshadowed. He did all the heavy lifting and Admiral Maxtin with the arrival of Zayars into the UCP will receive his notoriety.
“Cut engines.”
Certainly thousands dead people on the surface and Kantian’s only thought is how he won’t be credited for prompting the armistice. Admiral Easter’s plan to name him as her successor won’t carry the same weight. He murders his crew for naught.
“I have more wounded than medical staff, Admiral.” Worry about the crew first; he’ll fix his career later. He doubts they will court-martial him with the arrival of the VP-Admiral in the conflict.
“UCP reinforcements are en route.”
Zayars may have accepted the UCP alliance, but they are far from amalgamated with non-Zayars. Those medical teams could save his people now.
“We need to disconnect the Deliverance from the Mokarran cruisers. Do you have thrusters?”
“My bridge crew needs attendance. Time to assess damage.” Kantian wants to berate his commanding officer. He has wounded needing attending, and Maxtin wants to placate the Mokarran while his own bleed out.
“If we want to secure Summersun as part of the armistice, we get all Mokarran out of system.”
“Admiral, I understand the importance of the political situation, but I don’t have a command crew.”
“Shuttles are retrieving your escape pods. I’ve directed all medical crews to accompany me. I’ll take command of the Deliverance when I arrive.”
Assume command of my ship. “Admiral, the damage is extensive. We have breaches on nearly every deck. Your safety is paramount to the UCP.” You won’t get my ship. “Give me a few minutes, Admiral. I’ll remove the Deliverance from the Mokarran battle cruiser.”
Kantian cuts off the transmission.
Medical teams work on those few bridge crew still alive. Dar’Jeryd props himself up at helm control; a facial gash decorates the left side of his face, running over his eye. “Orders, Captain?”
“Get yourself to medical or you’ll scar.”
“With respect, Captain, we must withdraw our cruiser.”
It seems unspoken: Dar’Jeryd doesn’t want the Admiral to assume command either. It would be seen as an unwritten failure. Worse, it would be a stain on those who perished under Kantian’s command during the battle.
Scraping metal reverberates through the hull.
“Minimal thrust,” Kantian orders. “Ease reverse thrust slow until we pull back.”
The hole in the Mokarran cruiser divulges skeletal framework around the mass driver. It won’t be able to fire again without complete replacement. Permanent damage will keep her off the front lines for a year.
Kantian notes the engine identification signature. He wants to know this ship’s registered name. When the UCP locks horns with the Tri-Star Federation again, he will finish this battle. The cruiser limps away until it escapes the planet’s gravity well.
“Bring us into orbit and get yourself to sick bay, Dar’Jeryd.”
A medical tech scans Kantian’s leg. “Sir, we need to stop your bleeding.”
“I won’t leave the bridge.”
The med tech doesn’t argue. He cuts open the blood-soaked pant leg. “I’m unable to repair it here, Sir.”
“Stop the bleeding. Get Dar’Jeryd to sick bay and attend to his face. I need him back up here functional. I won’t give the Admiral reason to assume command of my vessel.”
“Immediately, Captain.”
I DON’T CARE how much advanced medical science has achieved. Being knocked unconscious three times in the past few days can’t be good for my brain. I’ll have to get JC to run assessments on my neural pathways.
The ejection unit activated thrusters to soften his crash landing. Since it was part of the cockpit, it has a reinforced durasteel bathtub enclosure to protect pilots from projectile weapons. It has an encoded retrieval call, but in the midst of battle, recovery could invite capture. The Mokarran don’t take prisoners. No transporter escape possible with the Dragon in another solar system.
Nothing for him to do now but contemplate his errors the past few days and life of another cadet. It all happened so fast.
Arguably, Mark pushed Reynard into joining this battle. Ultimately, Reynard’s choice—one costing Mark his life.
Two minutes—the average life span of a Mecat pilot’s first battle.
He just remains in the ejection chair.
He’s still not sure what occurred on Ki-Ton’s planet. They found the shuttle, and Leahla’s dead. No time to consider or think. The tiger riders ended her. JC acted and released some kind of aberrancy. It could take months to refit the Dragon. Reynard meditates. Determining whether he has experience enough to lead this crew.
Plasma fire.
Not from Mecat cannons—small-arms plasma bolts. Mark said there were commando squads designated to wreak havoc on Mecats.
Air seals hiss as the canopy releases. Reynard pushes it open manually to the charred smells of battle.
Burnt wires.
The strong odor of melted plastic.
Chemical and even scorched metal hang in the air.
Worse, he recognizes the untranslatable chatter of Mokarran. He drops his gear bag before sliding out of the ejection unit. He doesn’t need a translation to know the cleanup crew is slaughtering down mercs in their crashed Mecats. Even with a dozen clips he hasn’t enough ammo to take out five warriors. He doubts even with his dexterity he’ll empty enough durasteel into one before they finish him.
Reynard stumbles forward. If forward’s the correct direction. No sane person moves toward the sound of weapons fire. Light-armed plasma weapons are distinct among the rapid-fire surging cannons. The attraction they offer brings allies. He hopes. It’s still a better choice than five Mokarran.
Rockets designed to reach orbital attack cruisers bombarded Mokarran Mecats. None of which had the armor rating to withstand. Logically, the sound of fighting involves some of his allies; perhaps some of these
