Defiant (The Mythrar War Book 4) Page 7

  "Nothing yet. The cells are unusually empty, considering what happened here earlier. If he's here, I'm willing to bet he's our best bet." He motioned down the hall where Landry had been moments before.

  Austin stepped up to the front of the group and patted his blaster. "Sounds like the best plan we have."

  Walker turned to the others, and they nodded their agreement. "It's decided." He hefted his blaster and led the group down the hall. The Marines followed in a rough formation behind him. He didn't like moving through the station as a unit, especially considering the orders they were disobeying, but they didn't have a better option. With New Earth Station in a battle stance, movement through the hallways was limited. Most of it seemed focused on getting the remaining civilians off the station and down to the planet. Those that remained were the damage control teams, all preparing themselves for the worst. Most of them didn't give them a second look. The few that did turned their heads when they realized they were staring.

  Walker stopped momentarily at the door the Secret Service agents had left moments ago and tried the handle. "Locked."

  Talbot approached him, datapad in hand. "Want me to crack it?"

  Walker shook his head. "No need. Doubt they left anything worth a damn, anyway." He motioned with his head down the corridor. "We keep moving."

  The Marines grunted their acknowledgments before following him down the hall.

  As they followed the agents through the station, Walker's mind drifted back to his encounter with Landry on the Providence. The man almost seemed calm once they stormed the bridge, as if there was nothing Walker and his Marines could do to stop him. If it weren't for the quick thinking and action of Bremerton, that might have been the case, but as fate would have it, they’d pulled through the encounter in one piece.

  Walker's time on the scavenger was much of the same, though he didn't give that version of Landry a chance to defend himself before shooting him in the head. But that encounter was more of the same, though this time it was clear something else was in play.

  The past few weeks he'd spent his free time thinking it over. Considering how deep the treachery went. If the Mythrar could infiltrate one of the highest-ranking offices in the NEC, what other offices and positions did they own? Shoot, sometimes he wondered if any of his Marines were compromised, or if there was anyone else on the ship, or on this station.

  Regardless of his concerns, he was positive of one thing. That he needed to be more vigilant than ever.

  Walker stopped when he reached an intersection and motioned for the others to do the same. Carefully, he slid a small mirror out of his pocket and held it around the corner. Thirty meters down the hall he noticed movement in the lens. From the looks, they were the same agents they had been following through the station.

  "What are you thinking, Sarge?" Adams asked as he slid to Walker's side.

  Walker didn't know what to think. If this was Landry, this part of the station was compromised. He'd likely had the area prepped to have a safe place to work in case the battle happened to get this close.

  But he couldn't help wondering if they were protecting President Alvarez. This wouldn't have been the first time he'd heard about an attempt on her life. In fact, the first had been aboard the Providence. It had been announced by the traitor Nicholas Landry himself.

  This wasn't the time to have second thoughts. Either turn down the hall and ask the agents or turn back and search another part of the station. As much as he preferred to avoid a confrontation, he decided a talk was in order.

  "Stay here. I'm going to go in alone and see what's going on."

  "No way," Adams protested. His words were echoed by the rest of his unit. "We do this as a team. Just like you taught us."

  Walker felt the grin form at the corner of his lips as a sense of pride washed over him. These were some of the best men he'd had the pleasure of serving with. It was nice to know his training had settled in. He turned his head to speak to the rest of his unit when the mirror exploded, sending a spray of glass down the hall. It was followed by a volley of blaster fire.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  New Earth Sector

  CIC, New Earth Station

  "What the hell does he mean, ‘stand down’? Doesn't that bastard realize we're at war?" Admiral Flannigan stomped through the room, stopping only to glare at anyone brave enough to give her a cursory glance. The only thing they could afford less than a pacifistic, traitorous Vice President was for her crew to lose focus. Now least of all.

  "I'm sure it's a mistake," Ensign Allen Scott said.

  Flannigan scoffed. "It was no mistake, Ensign. Landry ordered us to stand down as the Mythrar fleet closed in. The bastard means to sell us out now, on the eve of what could be the battle for our survival. And for what? To just hand ourselves over to the Mythrar after a century? I'll be damned…"

  "President Landry ordered us to stand down. I suggest that's what we do." Admiral Austin slid out from behind his terminal.

  "President? Let's be clear. For him to become president, he has to be sworn in. For that to happen, the rumors of President Alvarez's death have to be confirmed. Until both happen, I call the shots. Am I clear?" She glared at him, expecting the man to slink back in his chair. But to his credit, he returned the stare, then stood.

  "I'm afraid I cannot follow that order. President Landry…"

  "Vice," Flannigan said, voice resolute. She stepped towards Austin, eyes never leaving his, even as his hands went for his blaster. Until she heard otherwise, this was her bridge, and she made the calls. If he intended to say otherwise, he would have to use that weapon. "Now get back to your damned station before I have you thrown off my bridge."

  The two seemed to stare at each other for an eternity until Austin backed away, removing his hand from the butt of his weapon. "I'll have you know, I'll be filing a grievance once this is over. When I get…"

  "I'll sign your Goddamned grievance myself, now shut the hell up and get back to work." She stood her ground as Austin made his way back to his console. It was becoming clear her control of the bridge wasn't as firm as she would have liked. She only hoped she had enough support to run the battle if things went south. The last thing she, or humanity, could afford was to fail.

  She gritted her teeth as she crossed the bridge, running through the situation in her mind. Her first thoughts went to the battle, and the tactics they'd come up with hours before. Many of those tactics relied on the station providing support, or at the least, being present to direct the flow of battle. If something were to happen to them, or if the station was to fall, things would go downhill in a hurry. So she decided she needed to do something drastic, in case Austin had a bigger following than she’d realized.

  After crossing the bridge two more times, she stopped at her console in the center of the room. Without wasting another moment, she crafted a message to the battle group leaders. They needed to know about the problems on the station. If something happened here, they needed to have the authority to act on their own.

  With that in mind, she crafted the message. For a moment, she considered how much detail she needed to give, but decided something small would suffice. Just enough to let them know to take command if she were to lose control of the station.

  Bridge control in question. If I lose control, take charge of your fleets in my stead. New Earth MUST not fall.

  She duplicated the file and sent it to all three admirals. Minutes later she had confirmation of their receipt. It was a shallow victory, one she hoped didn't need to be cashed in down the line, but it made her feel better about their situation.

  The doors to the bridge opened with a mechanical whir. Flannigan turned her head in time to see thirty armed guards stormed the room, each brandishing a military-grade blaster. They weren't Marines, as far as she could tell, or even Secret Service, making her question their presence even more. Perhaps this was just part of the Mythrar's plans. Storm the bridge and take it by force, ensuring the order to stand down
went through.

  Her eyes darted to Austin, who greeted her with a vicious smile. Her face turned a dark shade of crimson when she noticed the delight in his eyes. The bastard had betrayed her. Called in support when he didn't get his way. She vowed to make him pay for that decision, assuming she lived long enough to see it through.

  "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "This is my bridge. Unauthorized personnel…" One guard pulled the trigger, sending a round of blaster fire into the ceiling. Plasteel fragments rained down on the bridge crew as they ducked for cover.

  "The bridge is no longer yours to command. It is mine," a figure said from the back of the room. Whoever it was, he was surrounded by at least five other guards, but his tone was clear. She'd lost her battle before the fight had even begun.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  New Earth Sector

  Bridge, NECS Reliant

  "Status of the enemy fleet," Wellard said as he strode through the door. He hadn't been on the Reliant for more than a few minutes before he heard whispers of a jump. According to the speed of their jumps, and the range they had to cover, the NEC should've had eight more hours before the fleet arrived.

  "They made an early jump, Captain. By our calculations, they will arrive in less than thirty minutes." Commander Mark Wilson shot Wellard a nod before moving from the captain's command terminal. "I've already put the crew on full alert. They are ready for your commands."

  Wellard smiled. While he would've rather had Bremerton at the helm, Wilson had proven to be a competent replacement. He still had a few years to mature before he was ready to take command of a ship, but Wellard was convinced he would be damned good when that day came.

  "Not surprising. We know their assault ships can jump quickly. Be ready to engage on my command." It felt odd to issue the order, considering the lack of targets in the sector, but he was getting used to the tactics of the Mythrar.

  Wellard went over the data the fleet had managed to gather on the Mythrar fleet. While he was confident their numbers were right, what concerned them was the layout. A fleet that size could contain any number of unknown variables. They could be lucky, and most of the Mythrar fleet could consist of heavily damaged derelict craft, barely capable of space travel. If that were the case, the main concern would be the three flagships. While that was a monumental task, it was far more palatable than the other option.

  There was also the possibility things could be much worse. In fact, he thought it was likely. In the Battle of Entropa, the Mythrar fleet was mixed. Not only a mix of human, Xandar, and some other unknown designs, they were mixed in their capabilities. Some were damaged well beyond repair, others as pristine as the day they were built, with many falling somewhere in between. It was this unknown element that concerned him the most.

  "Sir, we're receiving an incoming transmission from Admiral Parks. Should I patch it through to your station?" Lieutenant McRee turned to Wellard and waited for his reply.

  "Indeed. I'm ready when you are." A moment later, the image of Admiral Parks appeared on his screen. "Is there a problem, Admiral?"

  Admiral Parks pursed his lips. "I'm afraid so. It seems Admiral Flannigan may lose control of the CIC. If that happens, the defense of New Earth will fall to us."

  "Damn." Wellard slammed his fist against his armrest. "Guess that's the reason they sent the Marines down to the surface."

  "To keep us from sending them to the station to help liberate the CIC. Something is going on, and I don't like it."

  "I agree," Wellard said. He considered telling him about his unit of Marines still on the station but decided to keep it to himself. Better to keep that information from getting into the wrong hands. "Are we changing the plan?"

  Parks shook his head. "We don't have time for that. My sources tell me the Mythrar fleet will arrive within the hour. Perhaps even sooner. All we can do now is hope she can maintain control."

  Wellard took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "Our odds weren't great with the station. Without it…" He left the rest of the sentence unsaid. Much of the mission relied on the capabilities of the station and its ability to communicate with the rest of the defensive structures scattered around the sector.

  "We'll be fine," Parks said. "We have to be."

  A commotion on both bridges cut the conversation short. Wellard turned his head to the main viewscreen and noticed his crew's sudden concern. One by one, the Mythrar fleet appeared a few hundred kilometers away from the NEC battle lines. At first, it was only the smaller ships that materialized, but before long the first of the massive flagships joined the fray. Then as suddenly as it had begun, the last ship entered the system, and all went quiet.

  "Sir, you will want to hear this," McRee said, sounding concerned.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  New Earth Sector

  Bridge, Flagship Koniva

  Captain Miller stared at the image of the NEC fleet on the massive viewscreen. While studying the display, he waited for the signal from his communications technician so he could begin.

  Begin. Using the word in that context made him chuckle inside. He wasn't here to begin anything, just to end it. Humanity's run at freedom, for starters, and to end the war.

  This wasn't how he’d expected things to end. Silently, he hoped humanity would win. Use the diversions of the past few months to pick off the Mythrar flagships one by one. If that meant his death, it was fine, as long as his people could go free.

  But they hadn't created those diversions or moved against the Mythrar. Instead, humanity seemed intent on playing a defensive battle. While humanity had sent plenty of ships to combat some of the Mythrar incursions, there were many smaller battles where they had not, dwindling their numbers over time.

  To make matters worse was the infiltrative guerrilla war playing out behind the human lines, making it difficult for them to determine friend from foe before it was too late. He suspected there were several loyalist ships embedded in the NEC lines, each waiting for the most opportune time to strike.

  "Sir, we have contacted as many ships as possible. They are waiting on your response."

  Miller stood still a few more moments, continuing to take in the viewscreen. Trying to enjoy the last few minutes of peace they would have for the rest of the day, admiring the view of the planet humanity called home. From a distance, the planet looked similar to Earth. Although they were still some distance from the planet, he could see the cloud-dappled sky overshadowing a field of greens and blues.

  He allowed himself a moment to imagine himself in their shoes. Living their entire lives as free men. Never once having to worry about having your loved ones held against their will, ensuring you did as you were told. While he didn't regret his decisions, he resented the circumstances that had forced those decisions in the first place.

  After a long pause, he took a position in the center of the bridge before signaling for the broadcast to begin.

  "I am Captain David Miller of the Mythrar Flagship Koniva. I come before you to offer you a chance at peace." He paused for a moment, to give his words a chance to sink in. If what Koniva had said was true, the same offer had been made to his people during the first war a century before. But since it had come from the Mythrar, none of the humans wanted to listen. The Mythrar's hope, this time around, was that they would take the offer seriously. While they were willing to shed blood, they also seemed to desire the resources to be untarnished.

  "The offer is simple. You are to board any and all smaller vessels and abandon your ships. From there, you are to return to the surface of the planet where you will be sorted for integration into the Mythrar fleet.

  "The offer is open to any listening to this message and those under their command. There is no need for you to contact us to comply. Any ships still manned in one hour will be destroyed. This is your only warning. Cross us at your peril." Miller glanced over to Robbins, who ended the call.

  "Do you think they'll surrender?" Robbins asked.

  "Doubt
ful," Miller replied. "This is their new homeworld. Unlike last time, they don't have anywhere to run."

  "Then they should give up. Why would they go through all that trouble to die now?"

  Miller sat down and leaned back in his chair. "How much time have you spent on Earth?"

  Robbins shrugged. "A few months here and there at the old Omaha Spaceport. Rarely left the station. Why?"

  "The wildlife on Earth is rather unique. Some animals, when cornered, become much fiercer than they normally are. Raccoons, for instance, are well known for their ability to take out a much larger threat when cornered. I believe we may be pushing the rest of our people into a corner."

  "Perhaps we'll get lucky."

  Miller pursed his lips and returned his gaze to the screen. Part of him hoped humanity would fight back. He wanted nothing more than to teach the Mythrar bastards a lesson. But he doubted this force, if it were to stay together, was in good enough shape to teach that lesson. He supposed the only way he would find out was to wait out the hour and see what they did.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  New Earth Sector

  Corridors, New Earth Station

  Walker ducked around the corner as the agents sent another volley of blaster fire down the hall, scorching the paint. Walker's Marines huddled nearby, avoiding the incoming fire while the other half of the unit did the same from across the hall.

  The firefight had gone on for ten minutes, with neither side gaining any ground. The only positive Walker had was the lack of casualties in his unit, though it was only a matter of time until that changed.

  The agents down the hall held the clear advantage, both in numbers and from their defensive posture. Whatever they were guarding had to be important. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been entrenched. There was a possibility they were only acting to protect Landry from harm. If Alvarez was dead, they were merely doing their jobs. If they knew who, or rather what, he was, they might not be so quick to lay down their lives for the bastard.