Starshine: Aurora Rising Book One (16 page)

Then the HUD went dark.

Then the aft section of the ship exploded.

Goddamn pain-in-my-ass mercs…
with a groan he pulled the helmet on and secured the seal to the suit, punched the evac and dove for the hatch.

It went without saying that there were no atmosphere corridors onto the small, barren planet buried within Metis.

Alex fought to maintain control of the damaged
Siyane
in the buffeting atmospheric forces. Visually she was blind, for the viewport revealed only the whirl of an impenetrable caramel-colored dust. She relied on the bank of displays to track altitude and angle of descent and to search the topography for a safe place to land. She needed to inspect the damage, and she just wasn’t crazy enough to open the engineering hatch while in space when she was fairly certain the lower hull had been blown wide open.

The fiery bloom of an explosion thirty degrees to starboard cut through the dust and haze. A harsh breath escaped between gritted teeth. She should feel satisfaction at the attacker’s destruction. Bastard had the
gall
to shoot her ship!

But extinguishing life wasn’t actually something she routinely—or ever—did, and deep down it hadn’t been her goal. She’d merely done what was necessary to defend herself. It was one of many lessons her father had impressed upon her once she was old enough to comprehend them.

“Alex, if an attacker means you harm, you cannot hold back. The attacker will seize advantage of your attempt to preserve their life. They will take yours.”

The simple and stark truth was the other ship fired first, giving her no choice but to destroy it before it destroyed her.

Still, her heart leapt of its own accord when a pinpoint blip appeared on the radio, mid-infrared and electronic sensor screens. The pilot had escaped prior to the vessel’s disintegration and currently plummeted toward the planet’s surface. Presumably they wore a suit and a chute and would land intact, for all the good it would do them.

Her initial relief at the sign of life dissolved into dismay. Without a way off the planet or any rescue incoming—assuming their communications capabilities were as nonexistent as hers had been since entering the Nebula—whether in two days or two weeks, the pilot was as good as dead.

“
Gavno!
” This person had tried to shoot her down, and would doubtless have left
her
to die had they succeeded. Likely a merc, assuredly a criminal and clearly dangerous; in all probability a killer who deserved to die.

But not by her hand.

She wasn’t a killer…though for perhaps the first time ever she almost regretted it.

Groaning in exasperation at an obstinate conscience, she yanked the ship into a rough trajectory toward where the pilot should be landing. It took some doing; the ship gyrated like a teenager on a chimeral high at a rave. When the opportunity came to inspect the hull she expected to find a royal shit-ton of damage.

But for now the exterior plasma shielding continued to hold. She forcibly drove the ship downward, weaving a path toward the projected impact point. She had to dodge the wreckage of the enemy ship twice as it cavorted wildly and wrenched apart from the pressure of the atmosphere and the pull of gravity.

Finally the air cleared—so to speak. Sand-saturated winds whipped through the sky, and physical visibility increased only to meters. She zeroed in on the weak electronic signature of the pilot’s suit while keeping an eye on the ground sensor; given the presumed damage to the lower hull there was no guarantee the collision warning still functioned.

She had slowed almost to a stop before the vague outline of a tensile-fiber chute billowing in the wind came into view.

Last chance to bail, Alex. Land beyond that hill on the topo map there and make sure you have basic functionality. Then hobble to Gaiae, repair your ship and get on with your life.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and settled to the ground with a modicum of grace. After scanning the system monitors to make certain nothing threatened to go critical for the moment, she stood and pulled on her environment suit. She grabbed the Daemon from the cabinet and primed it prior to activating the hatch. Twenty seconds later she stepped onto a rather rudely unwelcoming world.

She struggled against punishing winds to approach the chute and the prone form tangled in it. Goddammit, was she going to have to go back and get a blade and cut the
suky sranuyu
out?

In a flurry of motion the pilot somehow disentangled from the chute and crawled to their knees.
Guess not.

The chute rose in the air to be caught by the wind and shredded to ribbons. The pilot stood, faltered for a second, then righted themselves and focused on her.

A deep male voice bearing a lilting, melodic timbre came over her suit’s vicinity comm. “Listen, whoever you are, I’m sure we can work something ou—”

She steadied the gun with both hands and fired.

PART
II
:

CAUSALITY

“Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty,

and dies with chaos.”

— Will Durant

12

EARTH

V
ANCOUVER,
EASC
H
EADQUARTERS

M
IRIAM DOUBLE-CHECKED THE FILE
index a final time. She wanted to be able to review her notes during the flight for the session she would be chairing at the TacRecon Conference, on the economic viability of continuous passive planetary-wide hyperspectral scanning. They had been sent to Reference Confirm this morning and needed to be ready by the time she arrived at the spaceport.

With any luck the notes would occupy her for the entire flight, and she’d have no opportunity to dwell on the destination. She allowed a quiet sigh to escape as she reached for her jacket.

The sound of the door sliding open caught her by surprise. She could count on one hand the number of people who dared enter her office unannounced. If the entrant wasn’t on the list….

Richard’s eyes were starkly bloodshot even from across the room. He clearly hadn’t been getting much sleep the last several nights. “Turn on the news feed.”

“I was just on my way out the door for St. Petersburg.”

“You’re not going.”

She arched an eyebrow. She didn’t
want
to go of course, but he had very little say in the matter.

An aural materialized in front of him; he leaned against the front of the desk and shifted it out so she could also see it. “The data stream from the QEC to Atlantis. Now
please
, turn on the news feed.”

“Very well.” A finger press to the edge of her desk and a large panel embedded in the far wall burst to life.

“—Atlantis security and Alliance officials are refusing to provide any information regarding the incident. However—”

Her eyes flew to the aural Richard had generated.

Trade Minister Santiagar confirmed to have suffered a catastrophic overload of cybernetics resulting in stroke and brain hemorrhage

“What?” She hurried around the desk and positioned herself beside him for a clearer vantage. “Are you certain?”

“—guests at the dinner recount seeing nothing unusual as the Minister joined the Senecan Trade Director and Atlantis Governor in greeting attendees, and say he abruptly began shaking violently then collapsed—”

remote injection of self-replicating virus suspected, confirmation expected within seven minutes

He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m afraid so.”

“—the ballroom has been cleared and everyone present is being detained, though officials assure us it is only precautionary—”

surveillance scans identify an individual exiting the room through a service door 1.8 seconds after initial manifestation of symptoms

“—we realize several other networks are reporting that Minister Santiagar has died. We don’t want to jump the gun and report something which turns out to be inaccurate—”

“Is he dead?”

He merely nodded.

individual was tracked into maintenance corridors but disappeared from surveillance cams during level transition 26.4 seconds after incident

“—responses from both the Earth Alliance and Senecan Federation representatives are confused and conflicting, making it difficult—”

review of visuals confirm individual physically interacted with the Minister 7.8 seconds prior to incident

He blew out a sharp breath. “Means it was an official guest. There will be a record.”

“One of the Senecans?”

“Or one of ours.”

“—again, we are reporting an incident at the final event of the Trade Summit involving Alliance Minister—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Miriam, it’s my job to be suspicious.”

82.6% certainty individual is Christopher Candela, listed as a junior attaché for the Seneca Trade Division

Her jaw clenched, causing a painful jolt as her teeth clacked together. “I told you.”

“—we are now able to confirm that Earth Alliance Trade Minister Mangele Santiagar has died. The cause of death is still undetermined—”

Her eVi began signaling a cascading avalanche of alerts and incoming data. A red alert force-loaded on her whisper.

Board meeting in twenty minutes. Level V Priority.

Richard pushed off the edge of the desk and killed the aural. “I got it too. If you’ll excuse me, I have nineteen minutes to pull together everything we have into some sort of coherent form.”

She was already crossing back around her desk and waved distractedly after him. She sat down, took a deep breath and began issuing orders.

Barely controlled chaos ruled the conference room as she walked in. A cluster of advisors surrounded General Alamatto at the head of the table, and several military officials huddled by the windows gesturing in animated whispers. The holos of the remote members jerked and flickered as they handled interruptions and rushed to prepare. Aides hurried around in a bustle of activity which closely resembled pointless circles.

Miriam simply crossed the room and took a seat. Her shoulders locked straight as she opened three small screens and proceeded to study their contents.

Richard hurried in, both hands interacting with two separate aurals and only belatedly remembering to make sure his uniform shirt was tucked in properly. She spared him a tiny, sympathetic smile but didn’t otherwise acknowledge his presence.

Alamatto cleared his throat loudly; it barely registered above the din. Again, to no avail. In frustration he slammed his palm on the table.

“If we can bring this meeting to order…” he paused as those present scurried into some semblance of order “…thank you. First, I’d like to note that in addition to the regular Board members, we have present this evening Major Lange from Security Bureau and Colonel Navick from Military Intelligence in person and Defense Minister Mori and Deputy Foreign Minister Basak via holo.”

He waited for the last person to settle on a location to stand. “As you’re all aware by now, approximately thirty minutes ago Trade Minister Santiagar collapsed and died while attending the Trade Summit on Atlantis. I don’t want to misrepresent any of the facts, so I’ll let those closest to the situation bring us up to speed. Major Lange?”

Lange was a tall, wiry blond with pale blue eyes which connoted his strong Scandinavian ancestry. Miriam had worked with him on occasion and found him professional, if cold, and highly competent.

He nodded brusquely at the General. “Thank you, sir. The incident occurred while Minister Santiagar and other senior officials greeted guests in an official receiving line before the closing banquet. Including staff, seventy-nine individuals were in the ballroom at the time, as well as another sixty-five in the entryway and hall area.” He flicked his wrist and a three-dimensional schematic of the ballroom and immediate surroundings materialized above the table.