I will not survive Mercury, I know that. The Free Legions will not survive Mercury. But we can make Atalantia pay so dearly for our deaths, that we break the back of the Gold military and secure a chance for our families, for our Republic and its fragile dream.
I put away my wife’s face as I put away the key my son gave me for his gravBike when I sailed for Mercury, and stare at the red light until the enemy com crackles.
“Anteater to Dark Tango. Escort handshake confirmed. We are go in three, two…”
Fury begins upon the planet with a spark. A lone frigate rises from a hangar hidden in the desert mountains. An escort of six Gorgon ripWings follows, burning low across the desert toward the Sycorax Sea where the ground shields do not reach. In orbit above the planet, five dreadnoughts, led by Atalantia’s Annihilo, plunge toward the western hemisphere.
Free Legion contrails form over the sea in response. Atalantia’s strike force of dreadnoughts bombards an unshielded sliver of the planet. Ground cannons reply as Republic squadrons close in on the escaping corvette. Society ripWings descend from the Annihilo. It will be a hell of a party over the western hemisphere.
We won’t be attending. And neither will the Olympic Knights.
As the battle plays in the background, I follow Colloway’s scrutiny of the Waste of Ladon. “Getting a ghost in the eastern Ladon. That’s our bird. Hermes-class corvette.”
“Wait for it to get into the debris field.” Sure enough, the corvette has no interest in the scrum over the western hemisphere. It pierces orbit over the eastern hemisphere and sprints for the debris belt. “Char, sick ’em.”
“Boom goes the ion.”
A thousand tons of high-grade engines and weaponry come alive in the hollow of the dead destroyer. Inertial dampeners throb as the Necromancer explodes out of its hiding place.
“Chin to collar.” I remind my Howlers as Colloway weaves through the graveyard toward our quarry. They haven’t spotted us yet in the debris. “I am the tip of the spear. Move at my pace. Kill all hostiles. Momentum is everything. We stop, we die.” There’s a shudder as our ship hits debris. I see an open line between Alex and Rhonna. I click in.
“Here’s hoping this one’s worth a wolfcloak,” Alexandar says.
“Bah, he’ll make us die puppies,” Rhonna replies. “Stay sharp, Princess.”
“And you, Ruster.”
I click out.
“Eyes on target,” Colloway drones. “Pricks and slits, guard your tenders, spit pending.” The ship rumbles as its cannons fire. They’ve spotted us. It’s a race now through the debris field toward their waiting armada. We spin like a top. Ordnance glancing off as the Blood Medusa returns fire. The seconds thicken. Each a test of patience. Three weeks I have waited. Three weeks in darkness. Three weeks in torment. Three weeks for this kill.
A magnetic charge builds behind me.
The lights go green.
Yellow.
Red.
Gravity says hello.
I launch from the spitTube.
Momentum and sunlight and spinning metal. Our quarry barrel-rolls through the shards of a torchShip, exchanging fire with the Necromancer. Colloway sticks to its tail like a wicked shadow.
The Howler signatures are lost in the debris. I take over my suit’s side thrusters and lock on to the corvette, trusting my team to follow. Five hundred meters out. Debris careens past. Globules of frozen blood and water from ship stores become blurs. The heartbeat monitors of my Howlers are jackhammering as they try to keep up.
“Match me,” I say. “Match me.”
In its desperation to escape the Necromancer, the Medusa nearly collides with the engine block of a destroyer. It hammers its starboard thrusters and turns at a right angle. Damn fine pilot. But the men inside will be slammed into walls if they’re not secure.
I seize the opportunity.
“Breach,” I say as I goose my gravBoots and leap forward. The Medusa’s hull grows larger. I aim for its centerline, directing Colloway to the breach point.
Systemic rage builds as I prepare for contact.
Atalantia thought she could steal my Imperator.
That her Fear Knight could keep my friend as a toy for torture.
That I would simply run back to Luna and let my men die.
That she could steal my son and there would be no consequences.
Well, here I am, you deviant bitch. Here I bloody am.
The motherfucking consequence.
“Five seconds to breach.”
The hull of the corvette rips open as Colloway sends a miracle shot home. His warhead sprays out molecular crash webbing.
Two seconds.
One.
Breach.
I pierce the molten hole. The black blur of the molecular crash webbing expands like glossy, replicating fungus.
I smash into the webbing. My teeth bite through my mouthguard. My internal organs throb. The webbing absorbed my crash, but quickly becomes a liability, as Alexandar warned. It seals the breach and traps me upside down in its embrace. I can’t reach the dispersal agent on my pulseArmor’s thigh.
As the webbing expands, I see only blackness. Masked enemies in tattered desert gear crawl through it. A moment before, the Gorgons were being pushed out the breach into space. Now they are as trapped as I am. I can’t reach the razor on my wrist. Not half a meter away, a sunburnt Obsidian with chromed-out desert eyes points a pistol at my head. I push the barrel away and, slowed by the webbing, thrust my left hand into his stomach until the flesh gives. He screams as I reach under his ribcage and squeeze his liver.
“Sound off,” I bark.
“Howler Three,” Thraxa says. “Enemy contact, releasing counter-agent.”
“Pup Two. Landfall,” Rhonna says. “Drilling on your go.”
“Pup One? Tongueless?” Only static replies.
The crash webbing bubbles. Thraxa’s released the counter-agent. It dissolves into a black soup that hisses against the deck. Sheets of steam roll up. Released, my armor clunks to the floor, my hand still inside the screaming slaveknight. I pull out my razor and bury it in his face.
Others move in the steam as he twitches. Six enemies, all coming for me. I struggle to stand. Then, one by one, the six shapes divide into twelve. A lean figure glides through them all like a Lykos dancer.
“Pup One, reporting.”
Alexandar, fresh from bisecting a half-dozen of the Fear Knight’s best men, slams to a knee in front of me. He wipes the blood from his family blade and helps me to my feet.