Defying The Alliance: ERUPTION (Novokin Alliance Invasion 3) (5 page)

Peering around the edge of the escape pod in the port side of the bridge, I made sure no inquisitive eyes were pointed my direction before I made my move.

Belly crawling across the open walkway as fast as Terranly possible, I slithered my way to the starboard side of the ship, near the stairs at the rear of the expansive bridge. I threw up my hands to both stifle a yelp and hold my breath when a putrid looking vole skittered by.
So. Gross.
You'd think as far as the Novokin Alliance reached, somewhere along the way they would've learned to clean their ships.
Nasty.

I switched my hands to cover my head, hoping to protect myself from the falling debris as the floor of the Novokin ship shook like a shifting planet.
Ha!
They must have started the attack. Good for you Jaxx.

I chanced a glance up and over the abandoned console I hid behind. The Novokin bridge was chaotic to say the least. Kind of like it was put together from a multitude of different bridges, ‘piecemeal’ my chief engineer had called it.

This entire floor appeared to be the bridge. There were several empty chairs and rows of old consoles directly in front of me. The place was replete with outdated technologies, allowing for more than half the space to go wasted. Then it appeared as if a smaller more compact bridge was dropped right in the center of the oblong open room. That sheetek Asmot sat in the center of it, far closer to the front of the raised platform, shouting commands to the double row of Novokins at his feet. One might also be led to believe, hoped that somewhere in their travels, the mighty Novokin Alliance would have come across an interior designer. This whole dull dark charcoal gray motif of exposed metal and Nasairian ridged welds was made even more drab when paired against their purple skin.

Images of the firefight outside from several different angles flashed across their viewer. I was held in awe at the immensity of the destruction going on outside. My heart swelled with hope for the fleet’s success, at the same time fear's icy grip clutched it tight ready to rip it apart as images of my valiant crew and Trex’s stunning golden face adorned by a pair of sizzling hot emerald eyes assailed my mind. I saw them fighting for their lives when I realized I'd been in plain view for the last two minutes. I dropped back to the floor with a thump. At least everyone else on the bridge was focused on the battle too.

Crawling further down the row of unused workstations I shuffled faster past the guard I had been forced to dispatch when he caught me crouched on the stairs. This kind of wet work didn't hold much favor with me. Trapped by his clouded gaze I swallowed down my rising bile. I had never thought of Novokins as people, that is until I met Marco. To me they were faceless, cold-blooded, psychopathic murderers, rapists, terrorists that needed to be put down like sick Iternian husky hounds. My friend stuffed under the terminal, my karouk stuck firmly in his frontal bone, offered no glimmer into the type of person he was.
I hope no one is missing you buddy.

The ship lurched forward like it was hit from behind while waiting at traffic signal. Several of the steel lighting plates affixed to the ceiling retched off, clattering to the deck below. A painful scream from the front of the room told me one of Asmot's crew was the recipient of said plate. At this rate, the bucket of bolts I was trapped on would do the job for us. Then my ears perked up when that foul blowhard Asmot issued a command, turning the blood in my veins to ice.

"Subcommander, prepared to engage primary shields."

Skeck. You mean to tell me the Harbinger had yet to raise her shields to full power?
This would pose a serious problem for the fleet. But it was his next order that caused my entire body to freeze in place.

"I want all forward gun torrents and torpedoes locked onto that second Warbird. I believe the fight will go out of the lot of them once they see their beloved Captain Jones's ship crushed under the mighty fist of the Novokin Alliance." His voice dripped with casual amusement.

Holy skeck, did this guy ever listen to himself talk?
I unclipped a second plasma pistol from my belt I had liberated from the Novokin guard I downed earlier. As before, the casing cracked with ease. This time, maybe something a little different was on the menu…

Two minutes later I snapped the cheap casing back in place. Pressing down on the trigger of the plasma pistol, the gun began to emit a slow soft whine. Fortunately, the sounds from the energy shields deflecting the fleet’s attack kept anyone from noticing me. Crouching down, I pulled back as far as I could and heaved the pistol with all my might. I stood just long enough to aim my throw at Asmot's head then ducked back down behind the console.

– One Andropedian – Two Andropedian –

Three seconds later the Goddess smiled down upon me and I was pleasantly surprised with myself when I heard an angry "
Ouch!"
in a familiar voice.
Ahh, sometimes it's the little things in life.

– Eight Andropedian –

Finally I was greeted by the glorious symphony of exploding Novokin Alliance control panels. Unlike the superior Protectorate technology, they were never able to reproduce, their power conduits seemed to lack the safety devices I would think any space faring race would have put into place by now.
Circuit breakers.

Boom!

There was another console.

Boom!

The ship lurched painfully, that one must have been part of the navigation system blowing up.

Boom! Boom!

Music to my ears.

Unfortunately, it also proved to be the dinner bell with the beautiful -
if I say so myself
- Captain Caspia Jones as the main course. I wasn't surprised to see ten guards charging up the stairwell behind me.
Remain calm Caspia
. I steadied my gun’s aim on my bent knee, making my shots count, picking them off as soon as I could see their purple necks. Another obvious design flaw in the Novokin guards’ uniforms. Seriously, how did we ever lose to these sheeteks? My brow furrowed as vid images from the first day flooded my brain. I had to shoot the next guard twice to find the kill shot.
Traitors, that’s how
. I fired at the remaining guards with extreme prejudice.

The world went a brilliant green, followed by a flush of heat from a plasma blast exploding not two metlars from me. But these weren't coming from the stairs. Apparently not all the consoles had been destroyed and some of the cowering bridge crew must have finally worked up enough nerve to return fire.
Their funerals.
Several ragged streams of fire ripped through the air passing very close but all falling short of their mark. I risked a longer look around between shots, Asmot was nowhere to be found.
Had I been lucky enough to catch him in my first go?

Two plasma bolts crossed dangerously close in front of me. Now was not the time to play guessing games. Any student of history knew fighting a battle on two fronts was never prudent. Fortunately, the bodies I had already downed in the stairwell were making it hard for additional guards to invade the bridge. The shots coming at me from what I thought to be the navigational area of the bridge were wild and unfocused, leading me to believe I wasn't facing Imperial guards on the bridge, but mere techs.

I might actually get out of this alive.
I smirked to myself, giving my pistols a chance to cool down. But before I lifted my head again to fire, I felt the telltale metallic press of a plasma pistol on the side of my head.

"Greetings Captain," came a small familiar voice that was obviously in love with itself. Asmot droned on, "It seems you won't be making that meeting with the Supreme Commander after all."

“I didn’t sign up for this handsome.”

"What do you expect me to do?" Trex snapped and bared his teeth at her.

She emasculated him with a full belly laugh. "Please," she snorted between wiping away her tears, "Put those little things away before I pee myself. Fine I'll take the bridge." She held up a finger. "This one time."

Trex stomped away from the half-Terran, half-Duskanite.

"You go bring our girl back. But if you don't, I'm gonna show you some real teeth." Anya smiled her toothy serrated grin at him.

Getting to cargo bay one after the artificial gravity failed had been a challenge. Almost as much as wedging his large frame into the tiny pilot fighter Anya had primed and then readied for him earlier. A skilled pilot in his own right, Trex was easily able to avoid the raging battle even though his thumb twitched to fire. By happy chance for the fleet the defense grid was down, and some kind soul had been nice enough to leave a large, gaping hole in Asmot's ship and its force field for him to fly right into. He held a sneaking suspicion a certain little captain that shone brighter than any star in the night sky had something to do with the massive ship's new ventilation system.

He eschewed standard docking procedures and blasted his way through the already damaged hanger. He perforated a set of inner doors and crashed his single pilot fighter into one of the ship's long hallways. Pushing aside his concerns for finding another way out after he rescued Caspia, he was quite pleased with the destruction his breach had caused.

A coiled plasma blast stung the back of his leg like a nest of angry hornets. Apparently the Novokin guards were upping their game today, favoring plasma cannons over their standard plasma rifles. Trex aimed the new weapon affixed to his wrist. The Razor's deadly engineer had concocted this energy transducer to concentrate whatever energy he absorbed into projectile explosive spheres. He launched an energy sphere powered by the Novokins’ initial attack on him at the ceiling above the guards. It not only caved in on them, but gave him a convenient access to the next level up.

Before the dust cleared, the huge golden warrior dragged himself up through the newly created hole, quiet as a Tarcadian mouse. He emerged behind a small battalion of Novokin Alliance Imperial guards. They jockeyed for position at the base of a stairway littered with bodies. They were all firing up at something. He couldn’t see what they were so agitated about. A satisfied smile broke across his face as the warmth of realization touched his heart – his amka was at the top of the stairs.
I'm coming Caspia... my little Captain.

Trex allowed his training to take over. All doubts related to the sheer number of guards present and fears that he might not see his little Captain again fled his mind. He broke into a run and then leapt at the guards in the stairs. Nothing could stand in his way, now that he knew she was alive. Nobody could hold him back from reaching her and enveloping her into his arms. He’d keep her there and never let her go. His strained heart refused to beat without her alive and well in his universe. Cutting through the guards was but an annoyance for him. He was almost there.

He crawled over the remains of his savage assault, reaching the landing just in time to see her small, yet voluptuous frame posed at the top of the stairway firing into the smoke-filled chaos of the bridge. His mind reached for hers. Her tangled brown mane awash in the golden flickering light of the destruction she had wrought slapped the air as her eyes searched intently the room. Her gaze met his for a moment and his heart swelled, his body came alive. Her eyes went wide with recognition then blinked a few times in disbelief. Her lips curved up the same instant a very familiar figure stepped out from the grey shadows behind her.

His breath was caught in his lungs. His mind raced to comprehend the image of Asmot, the butcher known as Red Sky, the decimater of his world and the murderer of his people, standing behind his beloved, pistol raised and aimed at his amka’s head. The cumbra of Othmarvia was saying something, but the pounding of the blood in Trex's skull drowned out his words.

Her big, brown eyes glistened with love, her luscious lips drew up at the corners. The smile in her face never faltered as he scrambled up and over the dead Novokin laden staircase. For the first time in his life, uncontrollable fear gripped his soul. Fear for losing his amka, his love, his only reason to live.

The muscles in his legs strained. He had to reach her! He had to protect her! Trex's knees buckled when he saw the telltale orange glow as Asmot's hand cannon fired point-blank at the side of Caspia's head.

"Mama bird this is Talon," a voice squawked over the com, "we've got sector two cleared. Only light resistance remains. Do we press on?"

Deft fingers typed commands on the keyboard faster than could be spoken. "Negative Talon," the message Anya typed read, "move to assist unit three. Take out those heavy candidates." She needed to give Trex a fighting chance if they were going to get Caspia back, sector two was his entry point and she guessed his exit. They didn't need their rescue attempt cut short by friendly fire.

"Aye Sir," the Talon responded before breaking off her current vector to aid the warbird Rapier in its attack on Asmot's command vessel's main cannons.

News from the Arboretum scrolled over the optical display she favored over the main screen. This allowed for full access to what the Razor was dealing with outside, as well as real time fleet communication and status updates from her new engineering team. Jaxx was settled in, and in the middle of giving birth. His drooping ovexes were at full dilation.

“Could you please keep the ship from rocking so much?” Came an angry yessage from the Arboretum.

"I'll try," she typed. The moment her fingers left the data pad the Razor lurched. The Novokin heavy cruiser apparently had decided to focus all of its armaments on their ship.
Joy.

Anya was used to getting a fair amount of attention from the opposite sex. Her gaze darkened and the corners of her mouth turned up. She was also used to having a response at the ready...

She swung her attention to the weapon station and Lieutenant Dodson manning it. "Give me a good reason why we've stopped firing Lieutenant," she growled.

"Captain, we've lost power from the weapons’ generator. I'm trying to reroute a fix," he responded meekly, working hard not to crack under the full weight of her glare.

Anya rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry at the confused young man. "Hold on."

Multiple torpedoes and plasma beams impacted on her forward shields. The Razor protested violently, shaking those not seated on the ground. To Anya’s credit the shields held steady. Faster than conscious thought, her fingers danced to the control panels as if strumming a sonata on the keys and strings of a Xenobian pianitar.

"There you go."

Clearing his head the lieutenant gawked at his firing station, before turning questioning eyes towards Anya. "You've rerouted life support and hyper drive engines power into the weapons’ system?"

"What's the use of breathing if you're dead? I suggest you find a suitable target and fire Lieutenant, before I help you find the answer to that question." She dragged her clawed finger across her throat for emphasis.

Lieutenant Dodson gulped then targeted the Novokin light cruiser that was attacking one of the smaller support ships to their port. When he fired, instead of a thin focused beam of blue blasting a hole in one of the engines of the light cruiser, a massive torrent of crackling, blue energy erased the ship from existence. The young man turned an amazed expression at Anya.

She spun her wrist casually in the air and winked at the handsome officer. "An upgrade."