Chapter 44
TASK
SFS POLARIS
Task stands in the bridge, features arranged in a carefully blank expression as Voss relays Draven’s latest missive.
They’d reached the upper atmosphere of Nexarium, which on its own made Task’s stomach tie itself in knots.
Knowing he’d have to execute on his mission, that his time with Kit was dwindling, was enough to make him vomit twice this morning after he’d peeled himself away from her.
And now they’ve learned that Nexarium has been blockaded, her entire eastern face surrounded by Rev ships.
The Low rebellion has resurfaced in larger numbers than Draven was anticipating, with a drove of illicit weapons, four thousand mercenaries from across the galaxy, and jammers that keep cutting off Nexarium’s comms system.
They’d only gotten the missive by sheer luck, a momentary signal that allowed the message to come through.
“We’ll get this under control,” Voss nods once, looking to the captain. “Claiborne, can you keep her steady up here?”
“Roger,” Claiborne says. He doesn’t ask questions, which Task appreciates.
Voss looks to Caden, who paces near the doorway. “You’re to stay aboard with Claiborne and Dobbs to liaise with the Council.”
“I can help —” Caden cuts in, exasperated.
“This is a Force mission,” Voss shakes his head. “You are not a part of the Force, and Draven has made it clear the Council members are to be protected at all costs. You are staying here.”
Caden frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, but he doesn’t push Voss further.
“Round up your men,” Voss says to Task and Caelinus. “Begin prepping the Hoppers for launch.” He motions to them, striding from the room with the two of them on his heels.
The hangar is a flurry of activity. Task hasn’t seen this many Guardians in one place since he’d left Nexarium.
But now, he feels the familiar uneasiness that always accompanies him into battle.
He’d managed to find respite here and there, being on the Polaris, but an impending sense of doom follows him.
“What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to take them from all sides.
Balbas is launching an aerial unit from Xaria Base, and another from Anthium Centrus,” Voss says, pulling up maps on his Chronogram.
Voss scans the images, pointing at a Lightcraft.
“I need you to get your wing here. This is the biggest ship in the blockade, and intelligence from Phantom Wing on the ground indicates one of the Revs’ senior leaders is on board.
We don’t want to kill him; we want him alive so we can try to extract further intelligence.
That said, if we can disable the ship, we’ll have better luck getting this under control quickly. ”
Take out a Lightcraft. Check. Task has led his men into far thornier situations.
“Castor, I need you to be on deck here.” Voss gestures to another area on the map, where the Bandan Yards lie.
“There will be a firefight when the Revs realize they’re under attack.
We should expect for at least some of the fleet to sustain damage, and we’ll need you and your men ready to patch.
And of course, it’s possible we’ll need your specific brand of power. Stay active on your comms channel.”
As he readies himself to board one of the Hoppers hovering in the hangar, ready to shoot out into the night, Task wishes he’d been able to see Kit.
To tell her goodbye, to tell her that he loves her more than anything in this galaxy.
He’s not sure this will go the way they want; he might not come back.
The Revs seem far more sophisticated than they were five years ago, and based on the information that Voss just relayed, they’ve planned this well.
Maybe it would be better if he didn’t come back — it would stop him from having to make an awful decision. He breathes in, closing his eyes, silently pushing the thought out of his mind. He can’t think like that. He needs to be present for his men, and for Draven, who he knows must be raging.
“You good?” Caelinus asks him as he taps at the vambrace on his arm to ensure his shield is functioning. Task thought he was being careful not to give anything away, but apparently not.
Task turns his head but avoids making eye contact with Caelinus.
“Fine. Just want to get this sorted.” It’s not a lie, exactly.
He does want to get it sorted. Peace in the Consortium is hard-won, and an upset on Nexarium will threaten everything.
But it’s more than that. His uncle is dying, he’s in love with the woman he’s supposed to capture to heal him, and the planet is in chaos.
“We’ll be good,” Caelinus says, taking Task’s words at face value. “There is no way they can beat us. They have nothing.” Caelinus gestures between himself and Task, referencing the power they each boast. “House Dormius will prevail, as always.”
“Of course we will. Of course.” Task nods once, before climbing into the Hopper that hovers in front of him, Axel Thorleye at the helm.
As they near the Rev Lightcraft, Task looks around the Hopper, surrounded by his men.
They’ve trained for this time and again, have been in battle together more times than he can count, but the apprehension he feels just before launching an attack never wanes.
He’s got to make sure this goes their direction.
He’s responsible for them, for Nexarium.
He pulls up the feed of information filtering to his Chronogram, hears Voss on his open line.
“We’ve made it through worse boys.” Task can imagine him beside his pilot, calculating troop movements, numbers, and probabilities.
“When all is said and done, we reconvene at the Polaris. Keep your comms channels open. We’ll —”
Voss is cut off suddenly, and all Task can hear is static.
Shit, he thinks, but is careful to keep his calm.
He doesn’t want to alarm the Guardians that sit around him, waiting for his direction.
The information that was pouring into his Chronogram a moment ago has been cut off, and he feels a moment of panic.
Somehow, the Revs have jammed not only the comms in and out of Nexarium, but also those of the Force.
It will make their advances more difficult, especially if they can’t get them back up.
This is not great for coordinating troop movement.
“Thorleye, idle here for a moment.” Task stands as Axel brings the craft to a halt, shrouded in the shadow of the larger Lightcraft. Task is certain the Rev ship will be able to detect them soon, but thus far, no fire has come their way.
He turns, addressing the Guardians surrounding him.
“We have one focus today — disable that Lightcraft and get the Rev leader that is aboard. We want him alive, though he doesn’t necessarily need to be in prime condition.
In a few moments, the aerial fleet that’s being sent from Xaria Base will begin firing in an attempt to disable the Lightcraft’s engines and give us an opening.
Thorleye will bring us close enough to starboard to allow us to board.
” He pauses, looking at each of the Guardians, and finally nodding at Thorleye, whose tattooed hands remain fixed on the throttle.
“Proceed,” Task commands, pulse racing as Axel jerks the Hopper back into motion.
An explosion rings out across the atmosphere, several blinding blue rays from the particle cannons mounted on a Force Novafighter arcing into the hull of the Lightcraft in front of them.
Well-timed, in spite of the comms being down.
The lights on the enemy ship flicker, but its shields hold, absorbing most of the energy from the particle cannons.
The craft strikes back, releasing an array of railgun and laser fire against the approaching armada.
They’re focused wholly on the airstrike from below, and still haven’t recognized the Hopper.
Axel navigates them easily through the firefight, dodging a few stray railgun bullets as he brings them around starboard.
The Hopper shudders as it bumps over several wakes left in the atmosphere by the energy strikes.
“In position,” Axel says, looking at Task.
“Guardians, into formation,” Task commands, pulse racing as he prepares to disembark.
He slides his surge-saber into the sheath at his back, palms the lumi-daggers at his thighs, and activates his shield as the Hopper comes flush with the small, ragged hole in the side of the Lightcraft hull created by the particle cannons.
Task looks behind him, taking in the six Guardians suited up in the navy uniform of the Nexarium Force, their eyes hard and weapons drawn.
“Long live House Dormius,” he says, thinking briefly of Voss, of Caelinus, as he waits for the Hopper door to slide open, hoping that his friends will make it out unscathed.
“Long live House Dormius,” the Guardians echo back.
The Hopper door opens, and Task scans the corridor quickly, looking for Rev forces before he jumps from the Hopper into the hull of the Lightcraft, clearing his mind of anything except for getting to the Rev leader they’re supposed to capture.
According to the intel he’d received just before the comms went down, the rebel leader is in the bridge, the most protected place on the craft, two floors above where they linger now.
The corridor is almost too quiet, bathed in a dim red light, and Task pauses, a hand up. Something isn’t right.
Almost as soon as he thinks it, four Rev soldiers emerge from behind the corner at the end of the corridor, rushing towards them. Two wield laser-guns, taking aim and hitting two of Task’s men before they have time to raise their own weapons.