The Conscripts: Fight or Die (Blood War Book 3) (35 page)

“Yes, General. Would you tell Sara that my last thoughts will be of her and the children?”

Sand stood there speechless.

“I don’t deserve the loyalty of men and women like you. It has been my honor to stand at your sides. I will do as you ask.”

“Sir, there is no reason to drag this out. We’re going to have to do a lot of planning. Goodbye, General,” Bittar said.

“Yes, sir. It has been an honor,” Tiryak said.

“General, give ’em hell,” Akina said with a smile.

The display went blank. Fenes and the others stood there, completely silent, until Striker broke the stillness.

“General, could I change my mind and take that oath now?”

Sand looked up and nodded. He swore Striker into the Marine Corps before they left his quarters.

EPILOGUE

CVN Phoenix

Bridge

Ririsa Grogan tried not to watch the countdown clock as the colors of a wormhole passage flashed by on the command display that stretched the width of the bridge. Each time she glanced at the clock, her stomach tightened into an even-harder knot.

The Phoenix and as many of the ships under her command as possible had entered the wormhole at the last moments of the Chika portal’s existence. She was able to see the sides of the wormhole closing as the Phoenix entered. Ririsa had no idea how much of the rest of her fleet was behind her. She would have to wait until the transit ended to find out.

The only facts she knew were that the Von Fleet ships had left before her Confederation fleet, and all of them had made it to the closing wormhole. She knew she had left thousands of marines stranded on Chika to an unknown fate. Most importantly, she knew that her task force was the only thing that stood between Sol and an invasion by the Xotoli.

Then she noticed that the colors on the screen were changing. Instead of the normal white and yellow streaks of a normal passage, the streaks were now a kaleidoscope of colors. They seemed to be closing in on the Phoenix. A murmur of voices expressing concern began to grow among the men and women manning stations on the bridge. Instead of calmly exchanging information, the voices filled with fear as the crew too noticed the changing colors and shape of the wormhole.

“Stand fast!” Ririsa snapped.

She glanced at the countdown clock. One minute to go. Ririsa knew the fear her crew felt. She felt it too, but she could not show it.

“Have the pilots man their ships.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“As soon as we clear the wormhole, I want them launched.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Ririsa watched as the wormhole continued to constrict. How the Xotoli were doing this was beyond her. All she knew was they were trying to trap or destroy the Confederation’s largest fleet. She would be damned if she would let those aliens trap her command; she wanted another fight with them. At Rift she had only been able to react, and she wanted to be the one on the attack. She wanted to see the Xotoli scrambling to defend themselves against her destroyers, cruisers, and fighters. This time would be different.

“Thirty seconds,” her helmsman said.

“Very well,” Ririsa said.

The wormhole was a red-ringed tunnel now. Ririsa could see the end. It looked for all the world like an iris closing. The reds were getting deeper.

“Fifteen seconds,” the helmsman said.

Ririsa tried not to look at the countdown clock, but it was almost impossible. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

“Five seconds.”

Three, two, one, and they were clear. The narrowing red tunnel was replaced in the blink of an eye by a huge expanse of jet-black space dotted with the brilliant white light of stars. Ririsa had never been so glad to see open space in all her years in the fleet. She breathed a sigh of relief, then glanced over at her helmsman. He had been with her since Rift.

She smiled and said, “Looks like we earned our pay again, Chief.”

The young helmsman looked over at her, smiled, and said, “You ain’t said shit, Admiral.”

A number of officers turned their heads at the familiarity in the voice of the helmsman. Ririsa simply raised her hand before any of them could speak. It had become something of a tradition between herself and the helmsman since Rift. She looked at his young face. It had aged much in the couple of years since Rift. He had grown since that first contact with the Xotoli.

“As soon as the rest of the task force reports in, I want a list of who made it. How long before we can launch the fighters?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Very well.”

Now all she had to do was save Earth from an alien invasion.

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