The Ninth: Invasion (45 page)

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Authors: Benjamin Schramm

BOOK: The Ninth: Invasion
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“Meaning what exactly?”

“If you are going to make me spell it out, fine.  We used Great War procedure.  Did it proper too, no shortcuts.  The city is secure on all facings, even from an assault from the ancient foe.  The ITU would need some serious surprises up its sleeve to break our lines.”

“And orbital bombardment?”

“The fortress has the southern district more than covered.  We’ve got the northwest and northeast covered by those beam turrets we salvaged from the ship.  We’ve tested them thoroughly.  The ITU is going to have to come down here on foot if they want to bloody our noses.”

“And ground forces?”

“Let me put it this way . . .”

“Vincent,” Doyle shouted as he rushed into the room.

“What is it?”

“You
need
to see this.”

The three quickly left the hastily assembled tent.  Doyle guided them through the Navy officers.  Vincent noticed they were all huddled around something.  Doyle shoved a few aside to make room.  To his surprise a small monitor was what was holding their interest.

“Rita?” a voice asked from the monitor.

“I thought we were being jammed,” Vincent said.

“It’s not coming through standard channels,” Doyle whispered back.  “Somehow CI is transmitting through the navigation network.”

“What’s he saying?”

“He just demanded the ITU to surrender and launched some sort of weapon from the Great War.  The grand Executive hasn’t answered yet.

“Rita?” Alden asked again, with a growing concern in his voice.

“You filthy organic!” Rita’s voice roared from the monitor.  “You dare strike at
me
?  Know your place and tremble!”

The gathered backed away from the force of her shouting.

“My children of the Independent Traders Union.” Rita shouted over the transmission.  “Embrace your new masters, and we shall create a glorious new Order!”

“All ITU ships!” an unfamiliar voice shouted over Rita.  “Code Omega Black.”

The sounds of a fight could be heard as and an inhuman wail turned Vincent’s blood to ice.

“This can’t be . . .” Alden’s voice sounded hollow.  “To anyone who can hear my voice, evacuate
immediately
,” he shouted with renewed focus.  “The ancient enemy is back.  I repeat the Shard have returned.  Do not pack your valuables.  Flee to the nearest fortress
now
.  If your world doesn’t have a fortress, head to the old bunkers.  They should still block the scans of the Shard.”

The Navy personnel slowly turned to stare at Vincent.

“I repeat,” Alden shouted,” the Shard have returned.  CI forces have engaged several Shard Citadels at Reloas.  We won’t be able to delay them for long.  All Commonwealth forces able to hear this get to planetary invasion defense points.  They are coming.”

“You heard the man,” Vincent shouted.  “Get the civilians to safety!”

“We’ve got a job to do troopers!” Gazsi barked.  “Reinforce the perimeter and get those Protectorates up to speed on what they are about to face.”

The resting troopers jumped to their feet and started running to their assigned positions.

“Is there any chance we can get all the civilians to safety?” Doyle asked.

“Don’t even ask that,” Gazsi shouted.  The man walked up to Doyle and forcefully shoved him back a step.  “We have a job to do.  We do it, even if we die getting it done.  We talk about chances
after
the mission.  You get me, Navy boy?”

He nodded as he tried not to tremble.

“Good,” Gazsi growled.  “You’ve got a job to do.  Go do it.”

Doyle stared at Vincent as the trooper joined the rest and they rushed out of the encampment.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

“Gazsi will keep the northwest secured,” Vincent said with false confidence.  “You head to the northeast and organize the Navy personnel manning the beam turrets.  They are going to get more action than we anticipated.”

“And you, sir?”

“I’ll make sure we get as many citizens to safety as possible.  The ITU might have surprised us, but we are ready now.  Let the Shard come.”

 

 

 

A bright light glared at Brent.  Through his closed eyelids he could see an intense brightness.  Squinting and blinking, he forced his eyes to compensate.  Slowly, his pupils constricted and adjusted to the light.  As he grew accustomed to the light, he realized it was a pure white, not the dim one of the emergency lighting.  Wanting to get a handle on his surroundings, he tried to move his head.  The task proved incredibly difficult, as his head seemed unnaturally heavy.

He was in the all too familiar surroundings of a sick bay.  The familiar tones and sounds of the equipment comforted him.  At least he knew he was alive.  At his right side was a small figure.  It took him a moment to recognize it as the little girl he had rescued.  He smiled to himself and reached out to pat her head.  Strangely, nothing happened.  Brent tried again.  Once more there was no movement.  His right arm didn’t feel like it was being held still or restrained; in fact, it felt incredibly light.

Moving his incredibly heavy head, Brent looked down at his right side.  A strange emotion filled him as he looked over the irregular shape of the sheet.  Using his left arm, he lifted the blanket covering him.  His right arm was completely gone.  His right shoulder was wrapped in clean gauze.  The emotion grew more intense.  Brent couldn’t name the emotion that filled him.  A gentle rustling made him drop the blanket.  The small girl was waking up.  She raised her head and wiped at her eyes.  She paused when she realized he was staring at her.

“Mommy!  He’s awake!” she shouted.

A figure asleep in a nearby chair was startled so badly she nearly knocked herself over.  He recognized her as Mrs. Miron.  Recovering, she got to her feet and approached the bed.  Her eyes were red and swollen from a great deal of crying.

“I told you he’d wake up,” the girl said confidently.

Mrs. Miron could only nod weakly.

“Mommy tells me you helped me out,” the little girl spoke slowly.  “I didn’t get a lot of the big words she used.  But I’m happy you are okay.”

“I’m glad you are all right, too,” Brent said weakly.

The little girl looked at her shoes and fidgeted oddly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Mommy won’t give me an answer.”

“An answer to what?”

“Did you get hurt because of me?” the girl asked quietly.

“Don’t worry about it; you are more important,” he said with a smile.

“You’re not mad?”  The girl’s mood brightened instantly.

“Not at all.”

“I don’t like it when people are mad at me.  I’m glad you’re not.”  The girl smiled warmly.  “Before I had to get on the big ship with mommy, my teacher back home was talking about animals.  She said some of them would get new tails if they lost the last one.  Can you do that too?”

Mrs. Miron tried not to sniffle as the little girl looked at him expectantly.  Brent smiled to himself.  That strange emotion had completely vanished.  He wondered if the girl had chased it away somehow.  Weakly, he raised his left arm and patted the girl’s head.

“That’s right,” Brent said.  “Don’t you worry about me.  I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Mrs. Miron broke into tears and hugged her daughter tightly.

“Don’t cry, mommy; he’ll be okay.  He said so.”

“She’s just glad you are safe,” Brent said with a smile.

“People cry when they are happy, too?” the girl asked in surprise.

“When they are
very
happy, they do.”

Mrs. Miron’s crying intensified as she silently mouthed the words “thank you” over and over.  A tall man in a medical uniform entered the room and instantly froze.  Realizing Brent was awake, the man quickly left the room.  A moment later he returned with a large group.  The orderlies escorted Mrs. Miron and her daughter away as the doctors started looking over the machines.  One of them took a seat at his side.

“How are you feeling?” she asked slowly.

“Exhausted but fine.”

“You’ve probably noticed by now that you’re . . .”

“Missing some hardware, so to speak,” Brent said trying to joke.

“Do you feel light headed at all?”  The woman didn’t laugh.  “Is it hard to concentrate or anything like that?”

“Not at all . . . why?”

“Well you’ve been unconscious for a while.  We were worried the trauma might have done some mental damage.”

“What happened?  How long was I out?”

“Well . . . that’s hard to . . .”

The woman was tripping over her words, trying to find the best way to say it.  He could feel her anxiety.  Suddenly a man in a security forces uniform entered the room.

“Pardon the interruption, but I’ve got orders from Alden,” the man said forcefully.  “The patient is to be moved at once.”

“Excuse me?” the doctor asked in surprise.  “He is in no condition to be moved anywhere.”

“Orders are orders.”

With the assistance of a second armed guard, the security forces helped Brent get to his feet.  His body felt impossibly heavy as he struggled to maintain his balance.  The doctor’s protests fell on deaf ears as the men supported him.  Leaving the medical wing, Brent instantly recognized the design and lighting of the rooms to be the ones used by Core Industries.  Somehow, he had gotten back to Eos.  As the armed guards escorted him, his strength slowly started to return.  How long had he been out, where were the others, what happened, and countless other questions filled his mind.

A single glance at the guards told him he’d get nothing out of them.  To them he was just another trooper, nothing special or unique.  Certainly no one they owed answers to.  Finally, the trio reached a smaller room.  After setting him down on one of the soft couches that lined the walls, they quickly left him behind.  The room was poorly illuminated but gave the impression of luxury.  He guessed from the lavish seats and wall decorations the room was probably commonly used for entertaining important guests.

In the solitude of the room, Brent felt his right shoulder.  The form he was used to was gone, replaced by an unnatural edge.  As he studied what was left of his right side with his hand, his mind recalled the strange emotion.  It hadn’t been sadness or anger or anything so easy to distinguish.  It was a complex amalgam of different emotions that had no relation to losing a limb.  If he had to use a single word to describe the incredibly strange emotion, it would be “Satisfaction.”  The lights in the room brightened, and a doorway on the opposing side opened.

“Brent!” Tyra shouted.

The squad quickly entered the room and crowded around him.

“We thought you were dead!” Sanderson said, patting Brent’s left shoulder.

“Takes more than an invading alien force to bring down our Brent,” Doug said with a smile.

“We didn’t even find out about it until the CI ships got back here,” Humphrey mumbled.

“We were so worried,” Liz said in a relieved voice.

“Yeah, Cain neglected to tell us we were going to evacuate,” Marie said, slugging his arm.

“So, everyone made it safely off Reloas?” Brent asked.

“Every last person,” Doug said.  “Alden made sure as many people were off Reloas as possible before threatening the ITU.  He even forced some of the locals to evacuate.”

With a sudden vibration, Brent realized the room was moving.

“What’s going on now?” Erin asked.

Angela shot a glance at Cain.

“Don’t look at me.  I’m just along for the ride.”

The Wall appeared at the far end of the ship.  Through the transparent wall, Brent could see the skyline of the city of Eos, the nebula clearly visible overhead.  After the Wall passed, he looked around the group for Owen, knowing the nebula would probably scare him out of his mind.  To his surprise, he couldn’t find him.

“Where’s Owen?” Brent asked.

The others straightened.  As they exchanged worried glances, he could feel their remorse.  There were no aurora or visible signs, but he could sense their emotions clearly.

“He doesn’t know . . .” Angela said in a pained voice.

With a gentle lurch the room came to a stop.

“We can’t be there already . . . what would be so close?” Dante asked, surveying the room.

The doorway the troopers had entered from opened.  An easily recognizable figure loomed in the open doorway and gestured for them all to follow.

“Of course, the answer to that question is a moon,” Alden said, leading them on.

“A moon?” Cain asked, eyeing his father.  “I didn’t know Eos had any habitable moons.”

“Technically speaking, it didn’t.”

“Didn’t?  You mean you made an entire moon?” Dante asked in awe.

“Not us.  A long time ago someone, or perhaps it’s better to say something, built this moon and sent it here to orbit the world we now call Eos.”

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