The Forever Siren (SMC Marauders Book 3) Page 7

  “You were first among the Siren-nix not so long ago,” Cronin said.

  “And why must you insult me by talking about it? What is past is in the past forever. There is only one way to survival, and that is through the Sol Gate. The time to act is now. We must obtain ships and a Chrysalis chamber, then abandon this place and proceed with our rebellion.”

  Cronin massaged his secondary arms. “You admit we are in rebellion. I thought this was shameful to acknowledge, below your station.”

  “We are dying, Cronin. It is time to find a better battlefield,” Ontin said.

  “I agree,” Cronin said. “But first, I must go to Eigon and seek an alliance.”

  “You cannot do this,” Ontin said, fists clenched.

  “I must.”

  “Then require her to honor our independence and grant us access to the Chrysalis chamber,” Ontin said. “Why else did we return to this place?”

  “This was our home!” Cronin roared, clenching his fist so Ontin could see his rage. “There will be another chamber beyond the Sol Gate. I will speak to her of honor and obligations, of the truth,” Cronin said. He lacked the energy to argue with Ontin.

  “What truth is that? Can ideals bring back the dead? Heal the mortally wounded? Find the lost souls of our people?”

  Cronin no longer cared that his compatriots were intentionally blind to what was obvious. “There can be no Siren without the Nix and vice versa. The term Siren-nix is, and always was, a false thing—words used to bind us to leaders long dead.”

  Ontin ground his teeth and shifted his weight, but did not challenge him further.

  “When I return, we will move our brothers to safety and consider our options.”

  “There is no safety with the Ignari in control of the planet and humans making everything worse,” Ontin said.

  Cronin left his lieutenant behind and climbed the trail before him. He marched deeper into the canyon maze, climbing higher the farther he went. Not long after he was free of the smoke of battle, night fell upon him.

  Eigon’s elite bodyguards watched him approach through the gloom. They were all Siren here; none of their diminishing number of trusted Siren-nix showed themselves. He believed they had been banished to a lower level to guard the path up to Eigon’s temporary stronghold.

  He stood before her in a natural cathedral of rock.

  “You will acknowledge me as the Forever Siren.”

  “I am the Forever Nix,” he said.

  She burst into laughter, alarming her guards—causing them to put hands on weapons and take fighting stances.

  “Of course you are. Forever the servant,” she said. “Forever the fool.”

  “Forever the warrior,” he said. “Let us be done with this conflict. We need each other. There is no longer such a thing as a Siren-nix. That is merely what you call those too weak to break free of tradition and servitude.”

  She said nothing, did nothing, gave away nothing. The face that had laughed with incredulity now regarded him with regal severity.

  “My warriors stood against the Ignari without your assistance. We demand safe passage to the ziggurat, where we will rest and recuperate from our trials,” Cronin said.

  “Demand nothing. I warn you now, this rebellion has gone on for too long. There will be a purge. You will be the first to face trial.”

  Cronin expected the words. He watched her but said nothing.

  “You will kneel before me, touch your forehead to the dirt, and fold back your arms,” she said. “Only when you are subservient may I protect you,” she said.

  “I do not require your protection. I seek an alliance of equals.”

  “Such a thing is blasphemous and against our nature.”

  “You must honor our autonomy. We are too strong to be ruled. This is known. If not for the Ignari invasion and the human interference, we would have defeated you,” Cronin said, not believing the words but saying them with confidence.

  “You make impossible demands, Cronin the Fool.”

  “We must have access to the Chrysalis chamber. I have many mortally wounded warriors.”

  Eigon hesitated.

  “Do you hate your own people so much you would doom them to eternal death? Have you never been Nix?” Cronin asked.

  “I was a Siren-nix at least once. As we all are from time to time. I did my duty, served in the lower castes. Now I am your sovereign until another rises.” Doubt flickered through her expression.

  “I experienced the same transformation as you.”

  “You retained the form of a Siren-nix.”

  “We do not choose our form. The needs of our people flow into the chamber. We emerge as servants, not masters. I am Nix. In this form, I will serve our people until death or Chrysalis comes again.”

  “You choose interesting words. What happened this time was a mistake. One of us should have been chosen over the other!” Eigon shouted, then calmed herself. “All Nix who admit their crimes and swear fealty to me as the rightful Forever Siren will be granted immediate access to Chrysalis.”

  “My warriors would abandon me the moment I succumbed to your will,” he said.

  “Make them obey you. Rule them. Make them submit to me,” Eigon said.

  “I am their leader, and only by a slim margin.”

  “You will make them bow to you, then you will bow to me. I will not tell you again,” Eigon said.

  “You see nothing that is before you,” Cronin said.

  12

  Visions and Nightmares

  The SPC transport flew fast and low, broadcasting its IR identifiers to avoid rocket SAC battery defenses. Facing out the side door, Priest gripped a safety strap hanging from the ceiling. The subtle turbulence of the sound-dampened helicopter was putting him to sleep.

  “The horizon is outlined by fire,” McCraw said. The tone of her voice and her mellow expression gave the scene a dreamlike feeling—fatigue piled on top of unreality.

  Priest responded slowly, body tired and mind unhurried by the intensely visual moment. “I was going to say ‘edged in lightning.’”

  “How are we getting out of this one, Gunny?”

  He maintained his awed study of the landscape stretching away from the fast-moving transport. “Maybe Black Fleet will show up.”

  It was something he’d heard Marines and army grunts talking about in camp. Rescue by the Black Fleet had become a popular theme since Admiral Danzig Robedeaux stranded them on the planet.

  McCraw shifted her grip on her ceiling strap. “Black Fleet was destroyed years ago. There was a ceremony and a parade on Earth.” She jerked her head toward Lacy and Roosevelt. “They’ve been pretty damn chatty.”

  “Lieutenants,” Priest said as though the rank were a sickness.

  McCraw snorted a laugh. “Roosevelt creeps me out. Something is different about her. I never liked her all that much.”

  “She’s a hard ass. Tries a little too hard to be a hard ass in my opinion. No one likes that.”

  “Sometimes she looks at me like I’m not human…like she’s not human. There is a difference between a hard-ass officer trying to intimidate enlisted Marines—as futile as that is—and creating this weird, alien face-eater vibe she sends out.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Don’t be a dick, Gunny.”

  “This planet is getting to you. Happens on all alien worlds, but especially places like this, where it could almost be Earth but isn’t.”

  “Thanks for the lecture,” McCraw said. She looked out of the transport. “We’re over the camp.”

  Priest nodded. He wasn’t looking down at the battered remnants of the coalition forces, but at the horizon. Alien spaces fascinated him despite the deadly aspect that each new world brought to humanity.

  The stealth ship shuddered as the rotors and thrusters pushed air toward the landing zone. A squad of Marines formed a ring of security despite the LZ exis
ting in the center of base camp. Support staff stayed just out of reach of the rotor blades; medics, mechanics, and relief pilots stacked up in the action queue.

  “What’s going on?” McCraw asked the pilot.

  “They’re going out to look for Connelly’s Misfits. Cyclopes had a nasty scrape with the Burners,” the pilot said. “You weren’t the only ones looking for them.”

  Medics clambered into the transport the moment the ramp touched the ground. Lacy moved away from Roosevelt to allow them room.

  “Lie down here, Lieutenant. We need to strap you in and get some IV fluids into you,” the lead medic said.

  “No straps.”

  “Procedure. Do you have a weapon? We need to secure that if you do.”

  “No straps.”

  “Sorry, Lt. We’ve got to. Makes moving you easier and like I said…procedure. Don’t want to dump you in the dirt. My partner is clumsy.”

  Roosevelt lunged for the door.

  Priest tackled her, hammering her gracelessly down the ramp and onto the landing zone. Her strength surprised him. He would have been thrown off if Lacy hadn’t rushed to help him.

  The three of them rolled across the hard-packed earth, grunting and cursing with effort.

  Roosevelt struggled to her feet, pulling Priest and Lacy up with her.

  “Just stop!” Lacy spat. “No one is going to hurt you!”

  Her words came at the exact moment Priest slammed her down again.

  They piled on, pinning body, arms, and legs with their combined weight.

  “McCraw, get the stretcher and restraints ready,” Priest said.

  “On it.”

  “Listen to me,” Lacy rasped into Roosevelt’s ear. “You probably tried to fight the voices, and that’s good. But you need to think like an Akidoka, not a street brawler. Let Guidis slip past you. Move with the power, never stand against it.”

  “It hurts!” Roosevelt cried.

  Lacy shuddered. “Yes.”

  “I wish I had died in the assault.”

  “The darkness is poison, not magic. You can beat it. Stay alive, resist when you can, divert the power away from your mind, and you will survive. In time, his power must diminish,” Lacy said.

  “Do you believe that?” Roosevelt asked, meeting her gaze for the first time in the confrontation.

  Lacy looked away.

  Roosevelt relaxed, and her eyes lost focus.

  “What the hell is going on, Lt?” Priest asked.

  “Now isn’t the time. Just be ready for anything,” Lacy said.

  Roosevelt closed her eyes, relaxed, then went rigid—her muscles trembling with the force of their contraction. “No, no, no. They’ll never escape. The Noctari have the Black Fleet. The swarm can’t be fought. It never stops. Nothing resists for long.”

  “She’s dreaming something,” Lacy said.

  Priest motioned for the medics and McCraw to stay back.

  “Black Fleeeeeeet…” Roosevelt groaned.

  “Is she trying to say they’re still out there?” Priest asked.

  “Visions like this are powerful, but they are full of lies. I know. I’ll explain later. You can’t tell anyone, Priest. They’ll kick me out of the SMC.”

  He didn’t respond. Trusting her was second nature, but his team and his mission would always come first. Loyalty and obligation tore him apart as he studied his lieutenant. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s always been enough for me,” she said.

  “I need to know what is going on with you and Roosevelt.” Priest held her gaze, but Roosevelt interrupted with another moaning rant.

  “Gone. All gone. No survivors,” Roosevelt mumbled.

  “Is she still talking about the Black Fleet?” he asked.

  Lacy relaxed her hold on Roosevelt. “She’s coming out of it. That could be a random brainwave or something.”

  “Right. Sure. That makes me feel much better,” Priest said.

  13

  Sun Killers

  “I told you she is an unreasonable…”

  “Yes, Doctor Michaels, I’m aware of your opinion on the character of Miss DeVries,” Jeda said.

  “My apologies, Admiral,” Michaels said. Seconds later, he lost control of his outburst as she knew he would. “We cannot base a decision, not one single decision, on her testimony. Treat her as a prisoner or as a refugee, but please refrain from giving her advice undue weight.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Kimberly asked, moving toward him in a way that made him blush and stare at her cleavage.

  His voice rasped from deep in his throat. “Yes, I am calling you a liar. You overstate the situation on Siris and misrepresent your authority.”

  “I was sent by Admiral Danzig Robedeaux of Red Fleet, which makes him the superior officer of the Blue and Black Fleet Admirals as well,” Kimberly said. “Don’t take out your frustration on me, Doctor Michaels. And stop looking at my tits.”

  “I’m not, I wasn’t…you’re the devil’s handmaiden. I’m not frustrated.”

  “Of course you are,” Kimberly said. “You need to get laid almost as much as you need to take a good crap. Lighten up, doc.”

  Michaels threw his hands in the air and walked away.

  “That wasn’t nice, Miss DeVries,” Jeda said.

  “Am I lying?”

  Jeda shook her head. “I don’t care. The doctor has no military training other than what he has picked up during the last ten years of fighting the Noctari. But he is correct. Going to Siris to help the rest of the UNA and coalition forces would be a mistake.”

  “Then let me continue to Earth,” Kimberly said.

  “What good would that do? The only UNA fleet left is White Fleet, and it never leaves Earth,” Jeda said.

  Kimberly covered her face with her hands, massaging everything from her forehead to her chin. “Now I understand why I never joined the military. Two-thirds of humanity’s fighting strength is being slaughtered as we speak and no one has the balls to help.”

  Jeda reviewed information on the small screen embedded in the armrest of her chair.

  “That didn’t piss you off?” Kimberly said. “I just called you a coward.”

  “Did you?”

  Kimberly crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot.

  “I thought you were making an irrelevant reference to male anatomy,” Jeda said, moving face to face with Kimberly. Physically, she was much shorter.

  Kimberly shifted uncomfortably, her expression displaying her resolve not to step back or uncross her arms.

  “I want to help Danzig. He’s a good man—opinionated as hell and more stubborn than the rest of the swinging dicks in this Navy, but honest and hardworking.” She leaned close enough that Kimberly involuntarily lowered her head to remain face to face, but she was at a postural disadvantage to the admiral despite towering over her. “If I go to the aid of Red and Blue Fleets now, I will bring more enemies than friends. Trust me on this one. We’ve been fighting the Noctari for a long time. They destroy star systems like we throw away paper cups.”

  “You have paper cups?”

  “It’s an old expression. I’m assigning you to my communications crew, with an emphasis on negotiations rather than technology. Do you understand what that means?”

  Kimberly’s defiance flooded back into her expression. “I don’t work for you.”

  “Work for me or sit in the brig. This is my ship, my fleet, my kingdom. Help me help you,” Jeda said.

  “You want me on your negotiations team?”

  “You have raw talent. More to the point, I don’t have any place to put you where I can keep an eye on you. I just made you part of my bridge crew. It’s an honor and a privilege. Think three times before rejecting the offer.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  “Locked in the brig. It’s the safest place for them.”

  “I was tired of those assholes anyway,” she said.

  “Ah, now you’re disappointing me
. If you’re going to lie, lie better. What can you tell me about the black Siren?”

  “Her name is Tion. She thinks she’s my bodyguard now. I don’t know anything about her or her motives,” Kimberly said. “She may have switched sides from the Forever Siren Eigon to the Burner Queen. Something she let slip once—only once—makes me wonder.”

  Jeda studied her. “I believe that part. If she thinks she’s your bodyguard, then she’s your bodyguard. I will allow her to stay with you. Major Jackson and his Marines won’t like it, but my gut instinct is telling me the Siren has a part to play.”

  Kimberly shrugged.

  “Wait here. I will talk to Tion and the others. The Dissident Union commandos intrigue me,” Jeda said. “Someone will escort you to the bridge and explain your duties. The quartermaster will issue safety gear. Wearing it is mandatory. We are going to see combat. Without the proper gear, you will be a liability.”

  “Can’t wait. Sounds like a party.”

  Jeda strode onto the bridge, her helmet under one arm and her attention on the tactical screens. She glanced at DeVries and Tion. The pair stood at one of the many vacant bridge stations, armor and helmets in place, safety lines attached to railings. The Siren had her own gear that looked much as her regular attire did but with the addition of a self-contained breathing apparatus. Her dark-silver hair and black skin drew looks from the crew.

  “What do we have, XO?” Jeda asked.

  Circu motioned to the primary viewing area, a three-dimensional hologram of a grid and simple icons. “Three Noctari squadrons making a direct approach. Not original. There is undoubtably a destroyer or other capital ship lurking in the darkness beyond the capabilities of our sensors. These are a distraction.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are they the same who have been following us for the last three weeks?”

  “Yes, my admiral,” Circu said.

  “Good. We spent a lot of time drawing them out this far.”

  “I thought you were running from them,” Kimberly interjected.

  “Miss DeVries, please keep your exclamations under control. I’ll let this violation slide, but for the most part, your job is to watch and listen—maybe catch up with the rest of us if you’re as smart as I think you are,” Jeda said.