Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (32 page)

“Zier is the least of our worries right now,” Noll scowled. “At least he has some semblance of honor in combat, which is why he’d never use the bomb against Aura, because his pride won’t let him. Zier believes in a very strict military code of conduct whereby the rules of engagement are to be respected at all costs, no matter the prize, and such an act would be considered an egregious act of cowardice to him. The new commandant, on the other hand…” Noll’s fists clenched in front of him. “Well, he’s something else entirely.”

“I presume this is Masterson we’re talking about?” asked Mac.

“The one and only,” Noll grumbled. “Alec Masterson is a thug and a sadist—pure and simple. Have no doubt about it, he’d launch such an attack in a heartbeat if it were up to him, but being the commandant means he’s next in line for the chancellorship, and defying Zier’s orders on such a cataclysmic scale would almost certainly result in his total banishment from Alystierian society. I’ve heard horror stories of this guy unleashing his goons on female prisoners until they gave up the information he needed, and even then there were no guarantees he’d make it stop. He’s butchered entire families in the name of victory, and then slept well that night after doing so.”

Lee felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to rise. Alec Masterson had historically played the role of “the Big Bad” in
Mako Assault
, but he was rarely actually seen. Rather, Masterson was always that shadowy nemesis in the distance, pulling the Alystierian strings from on high while other, less distinguished soldiers pulled the actual triggers. Now, however, hearing Reiser and Noll describe him, Lee’s mind harkened back to his studies, and to names like Alexander and Bonaparte—or worse, Hitler and Stalin.

“I’m telling you right now, people,” Noll declared, “I’ve been to many worlds in many galaxies, and I can promise you this without hesitation: you will never find a more ambitious, not to mention brutally ruthless son of a bitch in this universe than Alec Masterson. What’s even worse? The guy’s nothing short of a brilliant strategist—a real prodigy—which is why he’s shot through the ranks to commandant. He’s never lost a campaign that he’s personally overseen, and between his record and his fiery, charismatic style, the men under his command follow him without question. He promises them glory and immortality through victory in combat, and they eat it up like sheep.”

“Sounds like Masterson has more of a following than the chancellor himself,” Lee noted. “That can’t sit well with Zier.”

“There have been rumors circulating for quite some time now of a growing rift between the two,” said Reiser. “But you know how it goes with rumors. Even if they did have a falling out, it’d be a hard sell in the press for the chancellor to replace him as head of the fleet. The fact of the matter is, Zier needs him. Code or no code, Masterson gets results and the Alystierian people, not to mention his men, love him for it. Zier might not always agree with his methods, but the commandant is their best shot at reaching Kendara.”

As Ensign Marell began to make his way around the table, collecting the dirty dishes and shuttling them off to the galley for cleaning, the crew rose to their feet as the evening inevitably wound to a close.

“Alright, everyone, lights out in 30, so get ready to bunk in, and we’ll see you all in the morning,” Noll called to the kitchen staff as Lee and the others rose from their seats.

“I’d like to get an early start in the morning, if you don’t mind,” Reiser said to Lee, who extended a hand. “Get some rest tonight. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

****

Later on that evening, as darkness fell over their quarters on C-Deck, a restless Lee laid awake in his bunk, unable to sleep as expected. Bored—his mind still racing with all that he’d learned at dinner—he raised his hand into the air and examined it in the brilliant blue glow of hyperspace that poured in through a porthole across the room.

“Does anybody else think we just might be in a little over our heads here?” Danny’s voice called out.

“Amen to that,” Link answered from the bunk above Danny.

“Honestly, fellas, I’m sure every recruit in military history, be it in our world or theirs, probably felt the same way after his first day in boot camp,” Lee reminded them. “Just remember, they were there to fight. We’re not.”

“Riiiiiight,” Danny countered. “I don’t know, bro. From the sound of it, they need all the help they can get, and I’m here to tell you right now, I want no part of it. Hate to be that way, but you heard what they’re up against, and this Masterson guy doesn’t exactly sound like somebody I want to screw with, in any capacity.”

“I’m with Lee on this, lads” Hamish called from across the room. “Granted things have changed a wee bit, but we were brought in to be consultants, and madness as it may sound, that really hasn’t changed if ya stop and think about it.”

“I won’t lie to you, boys,” Mac said from the bunk in the corner. “Dinner tonight was one massive eye-opener, but crazy as it was, I’m with Lee and Hamish. Let’s ride this out and see where it goes. Don’t forget, we were the best at what we did back home, and if even half of that can translate into something that these people can use, then I’m glad we’re here.”

“Well, ladies and gents,” Danny said through a yawn. “I guess starting tomorrow we’re gonna find out just how good we are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to bid you all a good night.”

“‘Night,” the others responded.

It took a while for Lee to fall asleep after that, but eventually drowsiness found its way to him. Before it could take hold, however, Lee heard a familiar gruff snicker slip through the darkness as his nostrils flared with the stench of digested garlic and herbs.

Danny Tucker exploded. “
Link, you rotten-ass little twerp!”

Chapter 17: Arrival

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity while Reiser prepared the group for the rigorous training that awaited them on Aura. As 14-hour days in the cargo bay quickly became the norm—splitting time between flight simulators, the virtual firing range, and the occasional dash to the mess hall for a meal—the friends scrambled to familiarize themselves with everything they could before arriving at their final destination. During the rare occasions when they weren’t stuck in the bay, they were usually locked away in their quarters (or “after-school detention,” as it soon became known) boning up on their reading materials—which Reiser typically assigned by the volume.

On the morning of their arrival into Auran space, Lee leapt from his bunk and headed straight for the showers to begin his daily routine. Like the others, he was excited to finally have the chance to get to work, if for no other reason than to step foot into some place other than their cabin or the cargo bay. Brushing his teeth in front of the mirror as the others got ready around him, Lee listened as Noll’s voice called across the comm.

“Crew members, take your stations. Hyperspace exit will occur in five minutes.”

Running a set of fingers through his wet hair, Lee tucked in his shirt and bolted for the door as the others fell in line behind him—each of them anxious for a glimpse at the planet they’d heard so much about over the last six months. As the lift came to a halt on A-Deck, the steel doors swooshed open to reveal a massive, bi-level room that, for all intents and purposes, served as the operational brain of the entire ship—the bridge.

Stepping off the lift onto the balcony, Lee observed for a moment as the ship’s senior staff scrambled around him to their stations—their faces awash in the dancing lights of the chirping consoles at their fingertips—each of them understandably excited to finally be returning home to their families and loved ones after well over a year. Mindful to stay out of their way, Lee shifted toward the railing and traced his hands along the banister as down below, six more officers manned their stations in front of a large, rectangular viewscreen, which, at present, showcased the luminous blue tunnel outside. Finally, at the center of it all was Noll, sitting quietly in his captain’s chair—his attention focused on a report while his crew worked hastily around him.

“Hyperspace exit in 15 seconds, sir,” said the helmsman to Noll’s left, and like clockwork, the view ahead dissolved abruptly from blue to the endless black void of open space.

“I don’t know if that’ll ever get old to me,” Mac murmured to Lee, both of them still in awe of their surroundings in spite of having been in them for nearly 15 days now.

Tracking the star patterns from left to right, Lee thought he could almost pick out the subtle differences between this system and his own, though his attention was soon lost to the crystalline majesty of the streaking comet in the distance. Feeling the ship circle around to its designated course, the group watched through the viewscreen as a large, blue sphere of striking familiarity came into focus.

“Auran Cruiser, this is ASC Command,” an unfamiliar female voice called through the speakers above them. “Please identify yourself.”

“Command, this is the AS-Milky Way, requesting permission to dock with Praetorian,” said the sergeant major, punching a button on his chair.

After a few moments of static, another voice responded. Unlike the female, however, this voice—deep and rugged—couldn’t have been more familiar.

“Milky Way, this is Praetorian,” the man said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Far too long, Admiral Katahl,” Noll answered with relief. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”

“Likewise,” said Katahl. “I’ve been following the progress of your mission through the reports, and I understand it was a success.”

Noll smirked a reply. “We’ll find out soon enough, sir, but we’re heavy five passengers on the return trip, anyway.”

“Fair enough,” said Katahl. “You’re cleared for docking on Hatch 11. Proceed on your current heading, and I’ll see you onboard shortly.”

“Understood, Praetorian. Proceeding to Hatch 11.”

“And Keith?” Katahl added. “It’s good to have you home.”

An uncharacteristic smile creased the edges of the sergeant major’s mouth, and Lee wondered if he’d seen that happen prior to now.

“It’s good to be home, sir,” said Noll. “Milky Way out.”

Maintaining its heading as instructed, the cruiser passed over Aura’s southeastern hemisphere, and Lee stared through the viewscreen at a series of gray specks that came into view ahead, though it didn’t take long for him to recognize them as ships, hovering in orbit. Staring in amazement as they loomed closer upon approach, he counted them out in his head: three cruisers much like the Milky Way, four destroyers (smaller, stockier ships known for their speed and maneuverability), four civilian supply freighters, and finally, the crown jewel of the Auran Star Corps fleet—the legendary AS-Praetorian.

Towering in stature at roughly 23 stories tall, the massive flagship presented a long, rectangular body that quite literally resembled that of an aircraft carrier in space. Inspecting every inch of her broad, gray frame as the Milky Way began its approach down the vessel’s port side, Lee traced the endless grid of lines surrounding her hull plating before stopping at the ship’s name (AS, or Auran Ship, Praetorian) and registry number (SCV-2106-A), both of which were printed in thick black characters on her bow.

“You’ve been busy,” he thought, surveying the plethora of oxidized scars and welded patch jobs that lined her riveted exterior.

Like all carrier ships, the Praetorian’s primary function was the transportation of fighters, personnel, and resources to and from the battlefield, though she differed from her predecessors in that she was—to Lee’s knowledge— the first carrier to be built under the new Horizon Class specs that provided her with heavier defenses, superior cruising speed, and a near 20% boost in maximum payload capacity. As such, not only could she carry more troops into a fight, she could also withstand a longer pounding in order to get them out—not that she couldn’t give as good as she got.

Armed with a Delta-3, SCV defensive package which consisted of 86 stand-alone battery clusters (spread from bow to stern), port and starboard side slider canons (LR-42 series), and an array of manually operated gunnery platforms which offered added protection for key sections of the ship (main engineering, medical, etc.); the Praetorian’s defenses were highlighted by its gigantic main batteries, a series of 10, long-barreled, magnetically charged railguns—each one capable of firing hundreds of projectiles per spread at speeds up to Mach Seven.

In short, there was very little in the stars that she couldn’t go toe to toe with and not have a better than average chance of demolishing.

“Damn it, son,” Link whistled, mesmerized like the others by the colossal gray barrels on the bow ahead.

Unlike his friends, however, Lee’s attention had already moved on. While the Praetorian’s defenses were admittedly very impressive, he was far more interested in the steady stream of fighters flowing in and out of the main hangar just two decks down at the front of the ship.

Slowing to a halt alongside the penultimate docking station on the Praetorian’s port side, Lee could hear the cruiser’s engines power down as the docking clamps locked into place, creating a pressurized seal around the retractable jetway outside. Following Noll and the bridge crew to the ship’s main exit on A-Deck where Reiser and Reynolds were already waiting, Lee and the others watched as the pressurization light over the vault-like door flickered yellow, then green, indicating that it was safe to disembark. Once through the tunnel, they emerged into a large, empty cargo bay, much like the one they’d trained in, where they were met instantly by two men; a medium-built blonde who Lee guessed was a mechanic, judging by the grease stains on his blue coveralls, and an older man with a husky build, short, salt and pepper hair, and an elaborately decorated, navy-blue officer’s uniform that grabbed the attention of everyone in the room.

“
Admiral on deck!
” Noll barked, rocketing into a salute along with those of the crew around him.

“As you were, Sgt. Major,” said Katahl, regal as ever and extending a welcoming hand.