Infamy (The Mythrar War Book 2) Page 22

  The tracer streaks of thousands of rounds lit up the hull of the York as she sent wave after wave of fire into the anomaly. The rounds slammed into the device, sending sparks and debris into space, but like her attempts at shooting them off before it wasn't enough. For a fleeting moment, she considered firing off a pair of her torpedoes but knew it wouldn't help. She had one chance to destroy this thing, she needed to make it count.

  "Bobcat to bridge, you copy?"

  "I copy, Bobcat," Bremerton replied. "Something wrong?"

  "Fire isn't having an effect on the device."

  "Copy, Lieutenant. Thought that might be the case. Get yourself out of there."

  "Negative, Commander. You need me to destroy the anomaly, and that's what I'm going to do. Just do me a favor. Tell Richards I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to do this, Lieutenant. We'll find another way."

  "There isn't another way. Just tell him. Bobcat, out."

  She thumbed off the comm and turned the volume all the way down, eliminating any chance for them to stop her. She'd already made up her mind, there was no stopping her now.

  Bringing up her weapons systems she armed all four torpedoes and set them to detonate on impact, ensuring the warheads would blow without the firing mechanisms being released. Carefully, she aimed the nose of her fighter at the base of the anomaly, the one spot where it could do the most damage to both it and the ship.

  Alarms blared, warning her of an imminent collision, but she tried to tune them out. All she wanted to do was focus on her task. To make sure the York couldn't terrorize anyone ever again.

  Collision in ten seconds.

  Nine.

  Eight.

  She tried to tune out the countdown, but her mind refused. It was if it wanted to cherish every last second as horrifying as they were. She tried to think about anything to pull her mind off of it. Her brother. His kids. Other than a quick visual flash from her past, they did nothing to sooth her pain.

  Her mind then shifted to Richards. His calming smile. His ridiculous style. And his looks, if not geekier than she normally liked. He made her want to live. Want to pull back on the controls and get out of there.

  Two.

  It was too late to turn back. Or was it?

  One.

  She twisted her fighter into a rapid spin while simultaneously slamming her hand against the ejection controls. The force of the blast under her seat caused her to black out almost instantly. But not before she watched the anomaly rip apart.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Terivar Sector

  Bridge, Scavenger

  "Did you see that?" Wellard darted closer to the screen, eyes focused on a single point of light just below the York. Except it wasn't a point of light, it was the pilot. Had she ejected in time to avoid the impact?

  "I see it. Think she's alive?" Walker said, voice in awe.

  "Our sensors determine she is alive, but her vitals are faint." The girl turned from her seat at the pilot's station. "Should I set a course to intercept?"

  "Does this ship have the means to care for a person in her condition? A doctor or medic?"

  "I'm afraid not, Captain Wellard. But seeing as the Endeavor has yet to deploy a smaller craft to retrieve her, we might be her only chance."

  Wellard pursed his lips. "Fine, set an intercept course. Try to avoid the worst of the fire." The underside of the York ripped apart in a violent explosion that sent a massive fireball out into space, missing the pilot by a few kilometers at most. Dozens of smaller blasts erupted from the main one, exposing three levels of the lower decks. "And avoid the York. From the looks, she won't last much longer."

  Wellard turned and limped towards the hall, stepping over the pile of Klypton bodies near the door.

  "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Walker asked. "You aren't in any condition to do a spacewalk to save her."

  "Someone has to do it," he replied. "If it's not me, then it's someone else. The way I look at it, she risked her life to give us a fighting chance. I'll be damned if I'm not going to risk my life to give her the same. Lord knows she's risked enough for us over the past few months."

  Talbot sprinted across the bridge, only slowing to match Wellard's pace when he was at his side. "I'm with you."

  "And me," Murphy said. The big man hefted his blaster as he bolted for the door.

  "You're all batshit crazy," Walker said, grinning. "The rest of us will stay here on the bridge. Make sure that bastard Landry didn't leave us any more surprises."

  "Captain, you will find vac suits in the shuttle bay. Should be a closet not far from where you left your shuttle," the girl said from her console.

  "Thank you. Get us as close as you can. We'll be down there and ready in a few minutes."

  Ignoring the pain in his leg, Wellard rushed back to the shuttle bay. The halls were as they left them, with alien bodies littering their path. The sight made him wonder where the Klyptons that had stormed the bridge came from. They'd checked nearly every square inch of the ship getting to that point. Surely they hadn't missed a place large enough to hold so many of the aliens.

  But that was a mystery for another time. When they had enough time and resources to break the ship down, investigating the ship's many mysteries piece by piece. Now he had to focus on saving Bobcat from the void.

  Reaching the shuttle bay, the men found the storage locker the girl had mention and put on the suits. Wellard had both his legs in his when he noticed the suits were about three sizes too large. Better than being too small.

  As Wellard finished slipping into his suit, Talbot searched the shuttle bay for things to use. Stopping in the corner, he grabbed a coil of rubber tubing and slid it over his shoulder. Sensing what he had in mind, Murphy grabbed two more. The pair moved into the center of the room where they uncoiled the tubes as straight as they could. Talbot grabbed the end of one line, wrapped it around his waist and tied it off in the tightest knot he could handle before grabbing the other end and connecting himself to Murphy. The bigger marine followed his lead and attached one end to himself while attaching the other side to Captain Wellard while Talbot secured another length to himself and then to the ship.

  "This should keep us together if nothing else," Wellard said, testing the knot. "Not sure how much good this will do if we get caught in the crossfire."

  "Captain, we are getting close. Please prepare yourselves for atmospheric decompression."

  A few moments later he was greeted by the familiar sensation of zero gravity. It had been years—no decades since he'd felt it last and it was apparent he wasn't ready to feel it again as his stomach lurched from the sudden lack of solid ground. His mind struggled to come to grips with his sudden lack of support.

  He closed his eyes and focused on a single point, a growing gray speck. Bobcat.

  He kept his focus on the pilot as he pushed off from the side of the scavenger. The sudden movement sent him rocketing away from the ship much faster than he would've liked. The marines followed suit, each giving the man in front of him a few seconds before pushing off on their own.

  Bobcat's body grew larger with each passing second until she was within reach. As he closed, he reached out for her, waiting for their bodies to collide. One more second.

  Then she was there, floating mere feet in front of him. She would make it.

  His forward momentum came to a sudden stop as the length of hose dug into his suit. He stretched out as far as he could but came up short, his fingertips brushing against her as she floated by.

  "I won't let you die like this." He couldn't. Not when she was that close.

  Wellard worked on untangling the knot, loosening the hose inch by inch until he was free. He then stretched out with everything he had, pushing his ligaments to their limits, but it wasn't enough. Losing momentum had kept him from his prize.

  "I'm sorry, Bobcat. Sorry I didn't do enough."

  He closed his eyes to offer a silent prayer, but when he opened them, he noticed so
mething amazing.Bobcat was staring at him, her lips curled in a wide grin.

  She was alive.

  Some how. Some way. She'd survived her suicidal move. But it was all for nothing. He had nothing to offer her that would change her fate. She'd survived the collision and subsequent explosions only to die of starvation, dehydration, oxygen deprivation, and eventual exposure.

  He looked at her as if to say goodbye when he noticed her pointing at something.

  Pointing at him.

  No. Not at him, at the tube in his hand. He glanced down then eyed the distance between them and smiled. It would be close, but it should be enough.

  He only had one shot to get this right. If he missed, he'd put himself out of position to try again. Worse he'd throw away the hose and not be able to get it back, switching places with the pilot.

  He kept his eyes on her as he reared back, the slack in the hose whipped towards the scavenger. When he thought it was at its furthest point, he snapped his wrist, sending the hose shooting towards the pilot. She grabbed the end as it slapped into her chest and nodded when her grip was secure.

  Wellard turned to signal the marines to pull them back when he noticed two marines in the shuttle bay were already working to bring them in.

  Tegan was back out by the time they were back in the shuttle bay. Wellard guided her carefully to the floor as they pulled him into the bay. "Careful with her. We don't know what's wrong with her."

  Talbot carried a plasteel sheet and placed it on the floor. Wellard and the marines carefully guided Tegan's body onto the sheet.

  Moments later Walker and rest of his marines entered the shuttle bay along with the human survivors.

  "Time to get this party on the road," Walker said.

  "Problems?" Wellard asked.

  "Our new friends seem to believe the Endeavor is about to go critical, so they rigged up a little trick. Love to explain, but we're about out of time." He helped Wellard to his feet. "We need to get everyone in that shuttle yesterday. Load up the injured first, the rest file in after."

  After a minute the last of the marines filed into the shuttle. The pilot ran brought the engines to life. A few seconds later they blasted out of the hold as the scavenger flew off towards the hole in the York.

  Wellard watched the scavenger's course for a moment before turning towards Walker. "Now. Fill me in."

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Terivar Sector

  Bridge, NECS Endeavor

  "Are you sure they have her secured?" Bremerton asked, eyes focused on the battle playing out on the screen. His mind, on the other hand, was focused on the pilot. The one who'd single-handedly given them a chance to end the York's reign of terror for good.

  Without the safety net of the anomaly, the York had mounted an impressive defense to prevent that from happening. It lashed back at the Endeavor with a handful of laser batteries, each intent on cutting clean through the Endeavor. Ordinance crews were doing what they could to limit the damage, but it was too little too late as they struggled to keep up with the incoming firepower.

  "Positive sir," Ritter replied. "Watched the last few…"

  "Sir, they're requesting permission to dock in our shuttle bay," McRee interrupted.

  "Not the scavenger, I hope."

  "Negative. They're loading into Shuttle Two-Alpha as we speak. Captain Wellard, Sergeant Walker, seven marines, and twenty human survivors."

  "Survivors? On the scavenger?" Bremerton waved off the question. "Permission granted. Direct them to our upper bays. Warn them about radiation levels down below."

  Another blast rocked the ship, knocking free a section of the steel bulkhead, shifting the rear consoles back a few feet. The lights flickered as arcing from the exposed electrical wires threatened to kill the power.

  "Damage report," Bremerton barked.

  "Massive internal damage to levels three through seven. Emergency bulkheads have sealed off the damaged areas."

  So this was it. Stopped the York from escaping only to have it destroy them in return. He wondered if it was worth it. Considering it meant the York would still be around to trouble humanity, he supposed not. What little they hoped to bring back to the NEC would be lost if they died.

  This is why you avoid going into battle while already crippled. Keep your ship out of situations you know you can't survive. It was one of the first lessons you learned in the academy. Your ship will only help you as much as you can help your ship.

  "Sir, incoming transmission from the shuttle bay. It's Captain Wellard."

  "Captain, seems you have horrible timing. The ship can't take much more. Damage control teams are doing what they can, but they're overwhelmed. I…" Bremerton paused, losing the words. How could he tell the captain he was the reason he'd cost them the ship? That they should've let the York run.

  "Commander, you've done an excellent job," Wellard replied.

  "But, sir…"

  "Commander, let me finish. If you would direct your attention to the lower forward portion of the York. The same spot Tegan flew her fighter into a moment ago."

  Bremerton nodded over at Midshipman Ritter, who brought up the view on her screen. Yellow laser beams from the York lit up the screen as they lanced into the Endeavor, the vibration from the destruction so intense he could feel it in his bones. In return, the Endeavor was hitting it with everything it had which amounted to little more than two laser batteries and a handful of gauss cannons. They tore into the York, causing multiple explosions of their own, but without added support, it wouldn't be enough.

  Then he saw it. A blinding flash from the bottom of the screen streaked towards the hole in the York. From the angle it was coming from, there was little the York could do to stop it as all the weaponry that could fire in that direction had been destroyed on Tegan's run.

  The tracer grew brighter and moved faster as it closed until it slammed into the York in a brilliant white-hot explosion. The screen turned dark as it struggled to adjust to the over-saturation of light. When the image returned, he noticed the entire bottom half of the York was belching fire and debris into space. Secondary explosions tore through the York deck by deck as the core went critical before erupting in a massive fireball that engulfed the ship.

  Proximity alarms blared as wreckage from the York pelted the Endeavor. Even still, the crew breathed a collective sigh of relief, barely heard over the wailing horns. It was over. The York was gone.

  "Captain, what the hell was that?"

  "Seems those scavengers had another trick up their sleeves. They hard-wired the nuclear reactor to act as a warhead in case the ship encountered overwhelming force. One of our new companions wired the ship to blow, set it on a course for the hole in the York. All we had to do was activate the autopilot function remotely while we got away."

  "Impressive," Bremerton mused.

  "What's impressive is you finding me after the scavenger jumped the way it did. You'll have to explain that little trick later. For now, I need to get our pilot down to sick bay. Seems our friends on the York made that trip far more difficult than normal."

  "Is she?"

  "She's fine. In and out of consciousness, but alive. I'll fill you in once I know more. Wellard, out."

  Bremerton relaxed back in his chair. The battle was over. Somehow, someway they'd won. Against all odds and at a high cost, they'd won.

  As taxing as the encounter was, he was still left with his greatest challenge yet. How to get his battered and beaten ship back to New Earth with one and a half thrusters and two-thirds of its crew. He supposed he'd have plenty of time to write out his report on the slow glide home.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  New Earth Sector

  Hospital Room, New Geneva, New Earth

  A pinprick of pain shot through Tegan's arm, forcing her from her restful sleep. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the familiar blinding lights of a hospital room. Was she in an actual hospital, or back in one of the sickbay annexes? Noticing the lime green scrubs o
n the nurse told her all she needed to know.

  "How long have I been out?" Tegan asked, groggily.

  The nurse smiled. "You've been in and out for a few days now. Was starting to wonder when you'd come around."

  A few days? Did she mean to say hours? There was no way she'd been resting in this room for days. Not unless…

  "Where is my ship and crew? The NECS Endeavor. Where is it?" Tegan bolted upright as her mind failed to piece together what she supposed were the past few days. The last thing she remembered was heading down to the flight deck with Vaughn. There was something about a pilot and some radiation, but everything beyond that was a blur.

  The door whined as another person entered the room. Tegan relaxed when she noticed the familiar smile of Brendan Richards. The engineer was holding a cup of coffee in one hand while trying to balance a stack of books with another. Even in a hospital the man couldn't get away from his work.

  "Good morning." Richards placed the stack of books on a small end table and looked at his watch. "Or good afternoon, whatever you prefer."

  Tegan relaxed her grip on the metal railing and allowed herself to drift back into her bed.

  "He can answer your questions better than me." Done checking her vitals, the nurse gathered her belongings and started for the door. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call." And with that, she left the two of them alone.

  "So," Tegan said. "What the hell happened?"

  "Well, for starters it seems you have an infatuation with flying your fighter into large starships. How you got down to your fighter is another matter. A matter under investigation, by the way. Seems someone left their post."

  "What do you mean? Is someone going to get in trouble?"

  Richards laughed. "Doubt it. Hard to blame someone for screwing up a job they weren't supposed to be doing in the first place. And considering said screwup resulted in the crew's remarkable success," he hesitated. "Hard to get upset at the man."