Gamma Nine (Book One) (43 page)

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Authors: Christi Smit

Tags: #military action, #gamma, #nine, #epic battles, #epic science fiction, #action science fiction, #fight to survive, #epic fights, #horror science fiction, #space science fiction

BOOK: Gamma Nine (Book One)
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Nathan stopped
again as the creature raised its head from what it was sniffing,
craning its neck into the air, almost as if it had smelt the Titan
sneaking up on it.

But the smell
emanating from the crack beneath the door was too tempting to
ignore and the creature resumed its sniffing, pushing its flat and
mucus filled nose right up against the door. It grunted and snorted
as it tried to claw at the gap underneath the door.

Moments later
Nathan was behind to the creature, and before it could turn or
scream Nathan slid his combat blade into the back of its neck. The
blade stilled the creature’s grunting and silenced it before it
could bark or scream for help.

Its limp body
slipped from Nathan’s combat blade as Christian approached his
brother.

Christian’s
emotions were bubbling over by the time he reached the door,
placing his left hand on it to inspect its surface.

“What?” Nathan
asked.

Christian
turned to his brother. “We should have brought Xander with us,” he
said jokingly.

Jessica woke up
with a shock, her hand gripping a pistol she could not remember
owning. Her eyes were still painfully red, blurring her vision as
she tried to focus on her surroundings. She felt Tristan shift on
her shoulder and slowly reality reasserted itself back into her
mind.

She blinked
cautiously, looking down at the pistol, finally recognizing the
weapon she had been carrying ever since the problems had started.
But she could not remember why she had it in her hand, and if she
was honest with herself she did not want to know.

Jessica looked
at her sister, brushing the dirty girl’s hair from her face while
checking her breathing. Tristan was weak, but at least her
breathing was still normal. She glanced over to where Sam was
sleeping, the poor man had fallen asleep exactly where he had fixed
the beacon, his head just falling backwards on a filthy pillow.

Sleep had
finally caught up with him, and he had not moved since his
triumph.

Nash shifted
under his table, his head raised slightly as if he was trying to
hear something.

Jessica was
about to ask, but the loud thumping sound answered her question
before she could voice it.

The entire
emergency bunker rattled as another even louder noise echoed from
outside.

A third and
final sound of metal hitting metal breached the bunker’s door. The
thick steel door buckled and one of its reinforced hinges
splintered from the force of the blow.

Nash reached
for his old rusty shotgun, arming it with a slow and quiet
action.

Jessica could
not see the entrance to the bunker; she could only see Nash raise
his shotgun to aim it at the door. Sam remained absolutely still,
aiming his pistol at the door as well.

A moment went
by in complete silence. No-one dared to speak or threaten whatever
was trying to get into the bunker. Maybe the creature would leave
if it thought that there was nothing worth feasting on inside.
Jessica doubted it. The smell of unwashed bodies was bad enough to
draw beasts from the next city over.

Nash’s eyes
widened and the expression on his face changed from caution to
something Jessica had not seen on the man’s face before. His beard
obstructed his broad smile as the old man started chuckling. Sam’s
pistol dropped slowly and relief was written across his face. He
looked at Jessica, his thick glasses filthy with sweat and grime,
but the look in his eyes spoke a thousand words.

Armoured hands
tore the door from its last hinges and bright lights mounted on
armoured shoulders and helmets lit up the dark interior of the
bunker.

Jessica’s
instinct was to raise her own pistol but her strength had left her,
and she hoped that Sam’s expression meant that something good was
about to happen. All of them needed a win.

The lights
scanned the room, one set settled on Sam and Jessica could see a
large armoured figure crouch down beside the smaller engineer. The
figure placed a hand gently on Sam’s tired shoulder and shook him
like a proud father would congratulate a deserving son.

The second set
of lights settled on Nash, but turned away from the old man to the
door leading to where Jessica and Tristan rested against the pantry
wall.

The second
figure appeared in the door, its armour was dirty and scarred from
battle, but it still filled the doorway with its stature and heroic
presence.

Christian’s
head tilted, shutting off the bright lights before he blinded the
two people he had been hoping to see. He crouched down in front of
the sisters, words escaping him.

Jessica raised
a hand to shield herself from the lights as the armoured man
crouched in front of her and Tristan.

At first she
did not realize who the man was, but slowly it started dawning on
her. The Operator number on the man’s chest caught her eye
instantly. QC0021-13 was written in silver letters, still gleaming
even in the low light of the bunker’s pantry.

The code
triggered many memories in Jessica’s mind, and she reached up to
touch the code, feeling the silver letters and numbers with her
fingers.

“Christian?”
she said, sounding almost reserved as if she was afraid that the
answer would be disappointing.

“Jess...”
Christian said. His voice was filled with relief.

Before he could
say more Jessica hugged Christian with all of her strength and if
she was any stronger she would have cracked the Anctinium
plating.

Christian
hugged the woman he loved back, careful not to hurt her. He grasped
Tristan with his right hand, squeezing her arm softly. “Are you ok
little one?” he asked Tristan.

Tristan smiled
widely, nodding at Christian. She reached for him as well, and
together with her sister hugged the Titan with all of the joy they
possessed.

The miracle
they had been hoping for had shown up.

“We have to
move. Company will be showing up soon,” Nathan said from behind
Christian.

Nathan was
helping Nash up and brushing the dust off Sam. All Titans had great
respect for Sam. None of them would be able to do the things they
did without Sam and his work with their armoured suits. To all
Titans Sam was the real hero behind their great feats of strength
and courage.

“Can you
stand?” Christian asked Jessica.

“Yes, but I
don’t think Tristan can,” Jessica replied.

“I will carry
her.” Christian released the sisters and looked at Tristan. “If
that is ok with you, little one?”

“As long as you
don’t drop me,” Tristan replied with a smile on her face.

Christian
grinned inside his visor. He picked up Tristan with one arm and
helped Jessica up with the other. “Ready,” he said, turning to face
Nathan.

“Alright, we
move fast and quietly. There will be no breaks, we can’t carry all
of you so you have to keep up,” Nathan said to everyone
present.

Nathan would
lead the way, Sam and Nash behind him and then Jessica. Christian
would bring up the rear while carrying Tristan.

It took them
only a few seconds to quietly move down the corridor and back to
the staircase the Titan brothers had ascended to reach the third
floor.

Hopefully
nothing was waiting for them at the bottom of the dark
staircase.

The Hyperion
burst back into normal space to a different scene than the one it
had left behind.

Many vessels
had answered the Hyperion’s call for help, and all of them were
doing their best to rescue whoever was still alive on the surface
of New Horizon.

Gray knew some
of the vessels by their names and reputations, others he had never
seen or heard of before.

Like a net the
vessels had spread out around the orbit of New Horizon, dropping
life boats and shuttles down to the dying planet’s surface.

The Hyperion
approached the orbital space above Santor, slowly edging towards
its previous drop point. Gray did not want to make any of the
vessels nervous, and make an already dire situation worse.
Misunderstandings in situations like this could cause nervous
trigger fingers to itch and blow a hole in the wrong hull.

A smaller
science vessel turned as the Hyperion approached its position,
scanning the new arrival with its advanced systems.

“Hyperion...state your intentions,” a woman’s voice with complete
calm demanded.

“Rescue,” Gray
replied.

“Hail
Hyperion,” the woman said, “you are most welcome. Proceed.”

“What are your
intentions?” Gray asked. He could not risk trusting strangers so
easily, not after what had transpired.

The voice that
answered belonged to a different person, a woman spoke that sounded
as if she constantly had honey in her throat. Her voice soothed
Gray’s ears the moment he heard it, and he tried everything he
could not to show himself blushing in front of Remy. “I am Captain
Amanda Volk, pilot and commanding officer of the Immortal Terran,
lead science vessel in charge of the fifth expedition to the dead
zones. We heard the call to come to New Horizon’s aid, and our
entire flotilla answered.”

“Then you have
the Hyperion’s thanks, we thought our words would fall on deaf
ears.” Gray said.

There was
silence for a few moments. “It is true then? That we have been
betrayed from within?”

Gray sighed,
the weight of the meaning behind what he was about to say heavy on
his shoulders. “We have, and the traitors are far from done, this
was only the first piece in a larger plan. All of us will do well
to make haste and leave this place before the wretch returns with
his fleet.”

“How long do we
have?” Captain Volk asked.

“Minutes, if
that,” Gray replied flatly.

Volk did not
close the channel as she ordered her crew to spread the word that
hell was heading their way.

The news spread
through the vessels orbiting New Horizon, a few turning almost
immediately to make for open space far away from the dying
planet.

Gray did not
blame those ship’s captains and their decision to run, most of them
were civilian transports and had almost nothing to protect them
against the magnitude of firepower heading for New Horizon.

The Hyperion
drifted into position next to the Immortal Terran, the cruiser
dwarfing the science vessel in its shadow. The Immortal Terran did
not move, and Gray saw more life boats drop from its belly, falling
towards the surface below.

“Aren’t you
leaving, Captain?” Gray asked the woman with the soothing
voice.

“Never, our
ships are staying until there is nothing left to save,” Captain
Volk answered.

“We are
honoured to make this stand by your side Captain Volk. Together we
might just survive the next few hours.” Gray was choked up, the
heroism of humankind never ceased to amaze him.

“As are we, our
sister ships are moving into position to blockade the open space
behind us. Their guns will grant us a little time to finish
collecting the souls trapped below.”

“Then we should
not waste time any longer, good luck to you Captain, see you on the
other side.”

Captain Volk
agreed and cut the link to the Hyperion, calmly ordering her crew
and pilots to launch whatever they had left for one final
pickup.

Gray tilted his
head to Remy who had stood up from her safety chair behind him. She
placed her delicate hand on the old man’s shoulder and squeezed
with enough force to fill Gray with what little courage he had
left. “Bring them all back my dear. No-one gets left behind,” he
said as he looked into Remy’s tired eyes.

Remy nodded and
was already ordering the communication officers to make contact
with the Maiden of Flame and her flight support when the first of
Lord Vincent’s fleet arrived.

At first only a
few scout escorts arrived, but as the minutes went by larger
vessels appeared behind the, carrying more firepower than the
defenders of New Horizon could ever hope to muster. Within a
handful of minutes twenty-nine traitor vessels were bearing down on
the blockade protecting New Horizon.

Soon everyone
that still believed in the salvation and protection of humankind
would be fighting for their very lives, and soon many of them would
perish as they stood against a tide of evil, never breaking, buying
others vital time to protect our race’s bleak future.

The primary
extraction point was relatively clear by the time the remnants of
the convoy had reached it. Only a few stragglers had scurried
about, but were all soon nothing but bloody stains on the cement
courtyard in the middle of the industrial complex Locke and Sabian
had chosen.

Gunn and her
sister ships had circled the extraction point, strafing everything
that moved with their heavy weapons mounted under their short,
stocky wings.

Fighter
squadrons were still battling the traitors in the skies above
Santor, fighting through the night into early morning without
respite. Twenty-one Crescent fighters had dropped with the ground
forces, and now only nine remained in the air.

The rising sun
had dawned on ten fighters utterly destroyed and two pilot-ejects
before their fighters could consume them with flame. All of the
pilots were considered KIA. Their deaths had been a high price to
pay, but together they had destroyed fifty-five enemy fighters. It
was a number almost unheard of in aerial warfare history and a
number that would cement the squadrons in legend forever. The
remaining fighters from the Flying Tigers, squadrons Alpha, Bravo
and Delta, had banded together after so many loses and were
punishing the enemy as one single swarm of metal fury. Their
silhouettes could be seen against the rising sun as they circled
beyond the perimeter of the drop ships, darting in and out of
formation, keeping the skies clear for the Maiden and her support
to pick up the battered ground forces.

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