Ambassador of War

Chapter 9

The other Dark commando fell down, a slug having sheared through his chest. The man reached for Xenon, his face contorted in pain.

"Sir..."

Xenon aimed and fired without hesitation, the bullet breaking through his soldier's helmet and brain – better at his commander's hands than the twisted hands of their enemy. He aimed up again, fired off a couple of shots, then moved to his soldier's body. He pulled the revolver from their still-limp hands, before beginning to withdraw. Stepping back quickly, he fired off the rest of his weapon's load, then switched to the dead man's revolver, continuing to force the Protectorate soldiers to hide.

After five shots, the hammer hit an empty cylinder, and Xenon broke the weapon open, ejecting the spent cases to load in new ones.

The enemy soldiers took this chance to attack, and Xenon threw himself towards cover. He felt three slugs impact – one ripping off his leg, one blowing out his shoulder, and the third punching through his torso armour and barely missing his heart.

He crashed to the floor, feeling the sand turn wet beneath him. Limply, he rolled onto his back, gazing up at the sky as the energy in his body ebbed away.

There was a slight vibration in the ground under his back, a vibration that grew stronger as he began to hear a roar, a roar that though so far away was unmistakeable. His lips twitched upwards slightly as smoke and dust began to roll over him, blocking out the sun that was already turning dark.

***

Malar fell to her knees, her hand holding in her intestines as she looked up at the man who'd murdered her son, who was now raising his blade to slaughter her.

The ground heaved, throwing him off balance; he backed away, looking past her, and she couldn't help but let her mouth contort into a grin. The fighting across town was drowned out by the sound of rocket engines spewing fire, throwing a wall of dust towards them.

The High Ambassador pulled his radio free, and she heard him yelling into it:

"They're launching a colony ship – get your cruisers in the air, now!" A voice she couldn't make out responded, before he screamed: "They're what?"

Malar began to laugh, and the High Ambassador watched her, eyes wide. When he turned his attention from her, she dropped her manipulator, instead drawing her revolver, to fire the bullet meant for her.

"Get to the other air bases, tell them-"

Crack.

The radio flew from his hand, plastic shards breaking away. He looked to her again, as she bared her teeth in blood-streaked defiance.

They stared each other down, him in shock, her in hate, before her knees finally gave way and she collapsed to the ground.

***

As the Exodus began to rise from the pit, Zion ignited the Edge's thrusters and felt himself being pushed into his seat. They picked up speed quickly, the vessel shaking as it lifted from Erudan's sandy surface.

His radar was clear as they rose towards the edge of the atmosphere, and he gently guided the Edge round, tilting it a couple of degrees so they circled the Exodus protectively.

They broke away from the Erudan sky, entering the stars' domain, and the ship's shaking was dulled, their flight becoming smoother. They were free.

Zion checked his radar again, and frowned.

Not yet.

Two blips had come on to the screen, rising from the surface, admittedly a hundred miles away but gaining fast. Even if they started docking the Edge now, the attackers would be on top of them before they could accelerate.

Lucky. There could have been more.

He notified the Exodus, then turned to the ship channel.

"We have a pair of cruisers coming towards the Exodus at full burn. Weapons-free; we're moving to engage. If we don't make it, it's been an honour."

The Edge spun around on a dime, flipping about to point towards the incoming ships. As it turned, the missile tubes deployed, sliding out of their housings and turning to face. They accelerated towards the attackers, now burning much quicker, rapidly pulling away from the Exodus; Zion saw the blips' paths change, bringing them on a direct collision course with his cruiser.

Good.

A set of smaller dots appeared on the screen, the first missile volley from their attackers.

"Point defence online?"

"Point defence online," a voice affirmed.

As the missiles neared, the ship suddenly shook, a metallic ringing coming to Zion's ears. Each of the blips disappeared in sequence, the machine-guns making quick work of the volley.

"Fire off forward tubes; leave the rest loaded."

Four missiles shot from their tubes, the launchers rotating back in to the ship's hull to reload. Zion watched the missile's approach; before they arrived, they were shot down.

The distance between the cruisers was closing, and Zion pushed the Edge's drive a little further, increasing their acceleration. The distance closed faster, the three ships crossing miles of space in the blink of an eye.

"Hold fire as we're passing," Zion ordered. "When I give the order, target their engines."

His crew confirmed the order, and as they neared the enemy their point defence was the only thing that fired, taking down the Protectorate's second volley.

When Zion saw the first glint of the enemy's hull on the visual feed, he pulled the Edge up, a short burst from the control thrusters that pushed it above the enemy's trajectory. The cruisers fired off a machine gun volley, hammering into the Edge's hull. As they passed, he flipped the Edge back around, and gave the command: "Now!"

Sixteen missiles fired off, soaring towards the enemy cruisers. Now out of point defence cover, they made their mark without resistance, slamming into the attackers' thrusters. The Edge threw off its speed as the enemy ships' sterns were torn apart, leaving them crippled and floating away from Erudan without aim or control.

Zion checked the radar; no more ships were coming towards them, at least not fast enough to make the distance they'd already travelled. He directed the Edge towards the Exodus, putting the drive on a full burn.

They caught up quickly, Zion guiding the cruiser around to one of the colony vessel's airlocks. Slowing to match the mothership's acceleration, he gently brought the ship in, and sighed in relief as the airlocks clamped together, sealing the Edge to the larger ship's hull.

"Get yourselves to a pod, quickly," Zion ordered over the channel. "I'll see you all in two years."

He allowed himself a moment to collect himself, for the adrenalin to ebb away. Then, he followed his own command.

He was ready for a rest.