Divine Right

By E.F. Skarda

After two years of open war with the all-powerful Dominion, the Splinter rebellion has been driven into its most bitter dregs in a century. Their colonies falling one after another, it seems as if it’s just a matter of time before the noose closes around their necks.

Vaughn Donovan, the wearer of the all-powerful Eye, still lurks as the greatest force in the galaxy. His plots to build new armies to hunt his enemies threatens the meager rebellion like the tick of a time bomb. As tensions rise among the surviving rebels, they struggle to find common ground in their failing fight against their pursuers.

And yet, there remains one glimmer of hope. Kyle Griffin has escaped from the Dominion’s captivity, and his survival serves as a beacon that the war is never over while he draws breath.

Uncertain of the scope of his own Celestial power, and tortured by the tragedies of loss and failure, does he still have the will to save their cause and bring peace to the galaxy?

The fate of all may ride on the answer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.F. Skarda
• Release date: Sep 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781734624953

E.F. Skarda

I am not a writer by trade. I actually eschewed the creative thing in college for some hard science. I graduated from college with a major in biology and a minor in kinesiology with an eye on going to medical school. When I got talked out of that (by an orthopedic surgeon, of all people), I settled on going to physical therapy school. That’s where I met my wife, Taya, which made the whole decision worth it. I’ve been a physical therapist for almost 13 years at the time of writing this, and I’ve gotten a lot of distinctions in the profession. I’m a registered Orthopedic Clinical Specialist, a certified manual therapist twice over, and a Fellow of the American Academy of Orthopedic Manual Therapy. I also teach hands-on courses to other therapists, most of whom are older and more experienced than I am. I am a national examiner for manual therapy certifications, and am a Certified Fellowship Instructor through a post-graduate institute. My business card looks really good.So why turn to writing? Because it’s always been the dream. And I’m at the point in my life where dreams mean more than credentials. If you’ve ever felt strung out at your job, you know what I’m talking about.I’ve got an almost-eight-year old son, Ryder, who is the center of my entire world. He’s slowly following his dad into the underground cult that is hockey, which is oh-so-much fun for me. He’s smart and strong, and his laugh is enough to turn even a vile villian’s heart into slow oozing butter. He hasn’t quite developed the compulsive love for the Broncos that I have, but I’m confident that he’ll get there. Wink, wink.So that’s it. That’s me. If you’ve ever felt like you’re missing your passion in life, whether that’s for writing or anything else, post a comment. I’m always happy to talk about it.Cheers!

Book preview

The Infinity Chronicles: Volume 4

Divine Right

EF Skarda

Copyright © 2020 E.F. Skarda

All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Prologue

A Dominion ship? Jackson asked. Coming here?

Jackson leaned forward on the hard, wooden cot. For a moment he forgot the smell of his dank Stockade cell. His fingers came up to his mouth, stroking the rough beard that had formed around his chin.

That’s right, Conroy replied, his tone rushed.

How can you be so certain? Jackson wondered.

The profile, Jardine replied. It’s a Dominion Herald, a messenger vessel, though modified somehow. It was spotted just a few moments ago coming out of hyperspace.

Heralds don’t carry much in the way of munitions, Jackson said. Why would they send that here?

Conroy shrugged. A scout ship maybe?

Without the cloaking systems engaged? Jackson asked. Not likely.

Perhaps it’s a diversion, Jardine added. Make us focus our attention there while they come in force from another direction.

Jackson shook his head. If they were coming in force, they wouldn’t need the diversion. They would know we wouldn’t have time to evacuate. It didn’t make sense. The Dominion Army was still the largest military force in the known galaxy. Why would they send a single undisguised ship here?

What are you thinking, Captain? Jardine asked. We’re short on time.

I don’t know, Jackson admitted. It’s not a tactic I’m familiar with.

Conroy and the Marshal shared a concerned glance. Then Jardine went back to Jackson.

Well either way we should be prepared, she said.

Of course…, Jackson mused. Arm any supraorbital defenses you have, and start preparing people for evacuation.

Jardine opened her mouth to reply, but then she sighed and looked down.

Oh shit…, Jackson muttered. You don’t have any defenses, do you?

She cleared her throat. Listen, Captain, we’re here to enlist your help. You’ve dealt with these sorts of situations before, and we could use that expertise right now.

Jackson chuckled. Right. And why should I agree to help you when I’ve got such a sweet setup right here?

Because if you don’t, it may mean the end of another colony, Conroy answered. And like it or not, your friends are still here. Are you going to leave their fate up to us?

Jackson grunted and ran his hand through his greasy hair. Then he swallowed hard and looked up.

You have a heading, or what?

Chapter 1

Kyle’s head hung between his knees, his hands limp and resting on his legs. A line of spit dripped from his lower lip, hovering over a bucket full of thin, wet vomit. His thick back heaved with each breath. Every inch of his skin rippled with goosebumps as the sweat froze against him. He’d never felt such horrible chills. Not since he was a child.

Every ounce of him felt drained. The rooftop outburst on Tanforan was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The surge of power was so raw, so primal…it felt as if a piece of his soul had escaped with it. It just poured out of him in a way he never knew possible, blowing a hole in that Sentinel like it was made of paper. The whole thing had left him depleted. Weary. Empty.

And he wasn’t even sure he’d live through it.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and he tensed. A shiver darted across his skin, leaving him gasping. Ellie’s face was waiting for him when his eyes found their focus.

Kyle, look at me, she said, her voice a sharp tone. You’re okay. You’re on the ship. I’m with you.

I’m…I’m cold, Kyle muttered.

Ellie pulled a blanket over his shoulders, nodding. I know. Your body temperature is way down. We’re trying to warm you up, but nothing has worked so far.

What the hell happened? Kyle asked.

Ellie shook her head, placing a hot, damp rag against the back of his neck. I have no idea.

Kyle let his face drop back between his legs, the weight of his head feeling too heavy for his neck. His stomach churned as he stared down at the bucket, forcing him to swallow a swath of spit to keep from vomiting again. Ellie’s hand shifted onto his back, rubbing his trembling skin gently.

I’ve never seen anything like that before, Kyle, she said. The entire city shook when you took that thing down. I think you scared them. They didn’t even pursue us.

Another shiver rattled down Kyle’s spine. His hands curled into fists.

Was that a…a question? he asked.

No…, Ellie muttered, considering. Have you ever…have you ever done something like that before?

Kyle shook his head. No.

"Doesn’t that…scare you?"

Kyle nodded through clenched teeth. Yes.

Ellie’s lips went tight. Her brow rumpled in concern. The sight didn’t exactly help Kyle’s nerves.

Kyle, listen, she started, I want to give you a sedative. Something to calm you down, maybe help you sleep. I think it will help…

No, Kyle interrupted. I can’t. I have to stay awake.

Kyle, please, I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you’re anxious, Ellie said. I think the rest will do you good.

No, the drugs…they won’t work on me, Kyle admitted. Whatever this is…I just have to…find my way through it.

Ellie wiped her face with her hand. Okay. Okay, then I’ll stay here with you. If you need me.

Kyle fought off another snap of cold. He could feel his teeth chattering. He tried to focus on her eyes. If anything could steady him, that would be it.

I do, he replied finally.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later that Kyle finally felt the heat return to his skin. The shivers subsided and his breathing slowed. His eyes regained their focus. And for once, he was happy with what they saw.

He was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the rear cabin of Hep’s ship. And Ellie was there staring back at him.

Your hand is warm, she said. Are you feeling better?

Kyle nodded. I think so.

Ellie sighed in relief. Kyle suddenly realized that she was holding his hand. It was hot and sweaty inside his wide palm. She didn’t seem to care. Instead she squeezed his hand tighter. The feeling patched a hole in his soul.

Where are we? Kyle asked.

In warp, Ellie said. Third jump on our way to this…place. Wherever it is.

Kyle force himself back to a sitting position. His eyeballs felt like they rattled in his head a bit, but he was able to shake the sensation quickly enough. If that wasn’t evidence that he was recovering, he didn’t know what was.

You’re certain that Hep knows where he’s going? Kyle asked.

Certain? Ellie asked back. No, not at all. But he’s our only chance. I mean, if he doesn’t know, we’re really in trouble.

Kyle nodded. Sounded logical. Sounded like him, actually. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud or terrified.

I brought you something to eat, Ellie said.

She passed him a plate of warm beans and root vegetables. The smell made him lightheaded. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. The plight of being a mortal, he supposed.

Have you eaten? Kyle asked, gesturing to the plate.

She smiled. Never thought a plate of limas and rutabagas would taste so good.

Kyle returned the smile, then dove into the food. It was firm and starchy. Just what his depleted body seemed to need. He felt it fill his empty stomach and stretch into his weary muscles. They quickly soaked up the nutrients and galvanized his beaten frame. The benefits of being a mutant, he chuckled.

How much time do we have? Kyle asked, wiping the plate clean.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, Ellie answered. We have some time.

Kyle’s grip tightened around hers. Not enough.

Ellie blushed, looking down at their interlaced fingers. But then her face grew stern, the skin between her eyes rumpling into a crease.

What is it? he asked.

Kyle…what do you think…, she paused, her gaze still down at their hands, what do you think Niyata meant…when she said I was ‘the key’ to our cause?

Kyle’s lips went tight. It was a reaction he didn’t want her to see. But he couldn’t stifle it fast enough.

I don’t know, Kyle replied finally. I wish I did. Why does it matter?

Ellie clenched her teeth and pulled herself up on the table next to him. Kyle, she just anointed me the savior of our cause! she exclaimed. Why would she do that. I’m not a soldier. What do I possibly have to offer that’s so important?

"What do you not? Kyle asked. Do you even know what you did back there? You took a group of people that could barely stand up straight and led them out of Fury Headquarters. I don’t even think I could have done that."

"You did do that, Ellie continued. You’re the one who broke out of your cell and got us on the ship. You did all of it."

And I would have been dead if you hadn’t picked up that pulse cannon and fended off all those mutants, Kyle insisted. You bought me the time I needed against Nyx. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be sitting here.

Ellie’s eyes drifted up to him. They still begged for answers, but Kyle had none to give. Niyata used her dying breaths to make sure Ellie knew what she saw in her last precognitive vision. And she hadn’t been wrong yet.

I just wish I could understand, Ellie groaned.

Kyle met her gaze with a determined one of his own. What difference does it make? he asked. In the little time that you knew her, was she ever wrong?

Ellie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Then she shook her head.

Then it shouldn’t matter what it meant, Kyle said. She saw something about you. And whatever it was, you’re destined to do it anyway.

Ellie chuckled, wiping another tear. I thought you didn’t believe in destiny?

Kyle squeezed her hand again. Maybe you’ve changed my mind.

Ellie’s mouth flitted open, her breath suddenly swept from her chest. The fire in her eyes flared, and she wet her lips with her tongue. She leaned forward toward him, locking her lips onto his. Kyle’s entire body tingled. The sensation erupted from down in his core, sweeping out toward his fingers as every nerve fiber in his body came alive. His skin grew hot as though some kind of energy was rippling off him. Was it his powers, or something else?

And why the hell would he care?

He let the world fall away, losing himself in that one intimate caress. It enveloped him, drowning out the heartache and despair and loss in one perfect moment of ecstasy.

Until the door swung open.

Ellie pulled away abruptly, startled by the intrusion. Kyle caught his breath after a moment, turning toward the open hatch. Hep was standing there awkwardly, his teeth bared in embarrassment.

Oh…yeah…sorry to interrupt, the tinkerer muttered slowly.

Kyle’s glare must have been like a sun-flare. Hep recoiled as though the commander was about to burn him to a cinder.

What is it, Hep? Kyle asked finally.

I, uh, I just thought you should know…, Hep mustered, we’re nearing the end of warp. We should be in the system in just a few moments.

Kyle swallowed a lump of cement. Back to reality. As always.

Thank you, he said. I’ll be there in a moment.

Hep nodded sheepishly, then left Kyle and Ellie alone. Kyle turned back to her, his grip still tight on her hand.

I’m sorry…, he started.

I know, Ellie replied. But you best go to work. We’re kind of counting on you.

Chapter 2

It wasn’t long after the meeting in the Stockade that Jackson accompanied a small tactical group into a set of catacombs deep beneath the main tier of the colony. They brought him through the market, to a small manhole in the floor behind another Provost station near the medical wing. He followed them down a long ladder inside the shaft into another cavern buried well into the depths of the asteroid. The pressure rose quickly as they descended. Jackson could feel it bubbling in his chest, like they were diving into the depths of Aquarius again. It almost killed him then as a teenager - before Kyle’s heroics saved his life - but today he wouldn’t have the same luxury. Today they were on their own.

He saw Brady immediately, surrounded by four colony soldiers at a four-way junction in the tunnels. Conroy waved his hand and they let him loose. He stepped toward Jackson, his limp seeming less pronounced after his bath in the biogenesis chamber.

Captain, what the hell is going on? The major asked. These men came and took Jay away, dragged me down here. They wouldn’t tell me anything…

It’s all right, Jackson said, unconvincingly, it’ll be all right. There’s a ship inbound. A Dominion ship. It’s set to touch down in less than two hours.

Dominion? Brady asked. How…?

Jackson shook his head. "I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. But they think it was someone…that one of us led them here. He paused to check the volume of his voice, looking around to see the other soldiers still preoccupied before continuing. They took the others to force our cooperation. We have to fight them off."

"‘We?’ Brady demanded, looking at the rag-tag team that had gathered around them. What do you mean, ‘we?’"

From what I’ve seen, it means you and I, Jackson replied. But they’ve threatened the others if we don’t.

So what do we do? Brady asked.

First, we’re gonna go fuck these Dominion bastards up, Jackson said. Then I’m gonna come back here and fuck these assholes up too. You with me?

Brady nodded. You’re damn right I am.

Good, Jackson nodded. Now, when we get out there, you need to stay close…

Before Jackson could finish, the Praetor stepped in between them. He thrust a rifle into the major’s chest with a thud.

You two are on point, Conroy said. You get in front of us, you stay in front of us. Start proving all that hard talk of yours.

Am I supposed to scare them with my good looks, Colonel? Jackson asked. Or are you going to furnish me with a weapon?

Conroy reached down and pulled a semiautomatic short-barrel from a holster on his thigh. Jackson looked at it with an urge to vomit on the Praetor’s shoes. It was a reasonable incursion weapon in close quarters, but in the forest, searching long-range through the trees and darkness, it was dead weight. Might as well be a slingshot in that environment.

Colonel, you have to give this man a better weapon, Brady insisted. What the hell is he supposed to do with that?

It’s a fine weapon, Conroy said. Make it work.

Jackson sighed and shouldered the gun. When he looked back at the Praetor, he noticed a familiar barrel poking out from over the top of his left shoulder. It was a kinetic rifle, much like the one he lost the last time he was wandering in these woods. Exactly like it, in fact.

Another soldier came up behind Conroy, and handed him a pair of thick, black helmets. He turned and handed one to each of them.

These are your lifelines, Conroy said. They have your comms in them, you keep them on at all times. I cannot overstate that. At. All. Times. Understood?

Jackson looked down at the cumbersome apparatus. There’s more to this than the comms, he said. What are these for?

The Praetor checked his watch, then grunted before taking the time to answer. They’re called the Shrieks, he said finally. A predatory species that lives in pockets of the surface, usually the hotter, more humid regions. Just like the one we’re headed to.

What are they? Brady asked.

They’re sonic hunters, Conroy answered. They use a high-frequency wail to paralyze their prey, and then they attack. Hence the headgear.

Why don’t we just bring some heavier artillery? Brady asked. Blast the hell out of them?

It’s not that simple, Conroy replied. They’re not large-scale predators. They’re only a couple of feet long, but they overwhelm with numbers. If we keep our helmets on it prevents their pitch from reaching the acoustic nerve centers, and they stay away.

What happens if they catch one of us? Jackson asked.

They rip you limb from limb, Conroy said. Then they eat as much as they can stomach.

That sounds like the shits, Brady grunted.

That’s not even the worst of it, Conroy continued. The remaining tissue is impregnated with a parasitic embryo, which slowly turns the appendages into offspring of the little fuckers. So not only do they tear you to pieces and eat their fill of whatever part of you seems sweetest, but then you have to spend the rest of your existence as a part of their marauding little horde. Shitty way to go, if you ask me.

Right, Jackson agreed. Keep the helmet on. Got it.

Conroy grunted, looking back over his shoulder at the other eight members of the tactical squad. Just get ready, he said. These tunnels are long, and the walk through the forest will be rough. The ship is anticipated to land in just under two hours. We move out in two minutes.

* * *

The Praetor wasn’t kidding. The trek through the tunnels was exhausting. They weren’t smooth, tapered caverns that gradually arced toward the surface. They were jagged, treacherous ascents that zig-zagged through the thickened, metal-encrusted ore lining the depths of the asteroid. All in all, it was an impressive system of by-ways, regardless of their refinement. Even the Dominion would be hard pressed to carve up an asteroid like this. How these people had managed to construct such things was a mystery Jackson couldn’t explain.

The air on the surface was cool and crisp, but still horribly thin. It made Jackson's chest feel as though it was only half full, briefly bringing back the same dizziness he felt when they arrived. Of course, it could just be a conglomeration of all the shit they’d been through since the day the Aranow colony fell several weeks ago. With it, they’d lost both Kyle and Dan, perhaps their two most capable soldiers, as well as all their battle-earned resources and supplies. Then, on their journey to this roughshod colony, Jay had lost his eyes. That one stung Jackson in places he didn’t even know he had. They’d quarreled about their escape almost from the moment it began, but Jackson never wanted this. The people here had convinced his friend that he was the key to defeating the Fury, even if that might cost him his life. It made Jackson want to scream every time he thought about it.

He shook the thought from his head. He had no choice but to. There was a task at hand, and it would require all his attention. An incoming Dominion ship may mean an entire platoon of hardened infantrymen. They could be armed to the teeth and would likely shred this meager colonial squad without his help. And that assumed he could still muster it.

His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness beneath the canopy, the light of the nova suddenly being eclipsed by the bulk of the asteroid. The heavy helmet didn’t help. It had been some time since he had struggled to see in this type of situation. He would kill for the scope on his sniper’s rifle right now.

All right, Conroy said. Stay tight. We’ve got a tough walk. He waved them forward. Let’s go.

A difficult walk it was. About twenty minutes into it they had to stop and rest along an old fallen timber. They did it primarily for the old man, Rowan, who was laboring badly. Jackson didn’t want to admit he needed it as well. He hoped that his stint in the biogenesis chamber would have cured the hangover from the dark matter mutation, but something lingered. It was subtle, but there nonetheless. Apparently having every cell in his body ripped to shreds by toxic cosmic radiation, only to have it rebuilt by this colony’s anti-mutagen formula left a mark even the healing waters of the chamber couldn’t fix. What that might mean for him long term, he didn’t know. And at the moment, he didn’t care. He just didn’t want to give the Praetor the satisfaction of seeing him exhausted.

Brady didn’t seem nearly as vain about it. Even with the helmet shrouding his eyes, his face looked desperately tired. He panted like a heat-stroked dog, crouched over a large rock with his rifle pressed into the dirt like a crutch.

How much farther do we have? the major wheezed.

I think we’re about halfway, Jackson answered, taking in a deep breath that only partially filled his lungs. This low oxygen is a bitch.

Brady pulled off his helmet and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Would be a hell of a lot easier without this headdress on.

Jackson nodded and looked over at Rowan, who was taking a deep pull off a portable respirator. He paused and took a drink of some kind of electrolyte formula, and a medic gave him a shot into the thin muscle of his shoulder. It was a lot of work for a man well past his mission prime.

You see that guy? Jackson said, pointing in Rowan’s direction.

Who? The old guy? Brady asked leering over conspicuously. What about him?

What’s he doing out here? Jackson asked.

Looks like he’s getting a physical, Brady said, still gasping for breath.

Yeah, no shit, Jackson replied. But doesn’t that strike you as odd? That a guy that needs that much attention just to walk the mission is out here at all?

Shit, I’d take whatever he’s getting right now, Brady huffed.

You’re missing the point, Jackson said. What’s a guy at that age, with all these obvious frailties doing on a mission that’s supposedly so dangerous?

He’s our insurance policy. Just in case you can’t handle things, a harsh voice interrupted. The Praetor walked up behind them, his rifle racked over his shoulder. Major, put your helmet back on. Or did you not hear the briefing on the Shrieks?

I needed to wipe my forehead, Brady responded, pulling the unwieldy helmet back over his ears. You could make these things a bit more comfortable.

Wasn’t exactly our first priority, Major, Conroy said. These rules are in place for your safety. Now don’t take the helmet off again, or I won’t help you when those little devils start ripping your arms off.

Brady waved his hand dismissively. He probably wanted to start screaming about his tours of duty and his battle scars and the like, but Jackson could tell he just didn’t have the wind for it. Instead, Jackson turned back to the colonel, a question now fresh in his mind.

What the hell is that guy gonna do against Dominion infantry? Jackson asked. He barely looks like he could hold a weapon.

I didn’t say anything about a weapon, Conroy replied.

But you said he was the insurance policy? Jackson added. Without any weapon?

That’s right, Conroy confirmed.

What in the hell are you talking about, Colonel? Brady asked.

Conroy chuckled, though the sound was muffled by the helmet. You’ll see.

Brady rolled his eyes but didn’t give the colonel the courtesy of a response, and Conroy didn’t seem to care. He dropped the barrel of his weapon back into his left hand, and then walked back to the front of the squad, waving them forward. Jackson sighed and gave the major a shrug.

Who the fuck are these people? Brady said.

I don’t know, Jackson agreed. He briefly motioned at the chin strap on Brady’s helmet, which the major begrudgingly buckled. C’mon. We’ve gotta stay out front.

The next hour went by quietly. The woods began to thin out. The dim dusk light creeping through the canopy began to get brighter. The ship would be getting close.

Then Jackson heard a faint cry in the distance. It sounded dull and weak through the muffling helmet, like a dying animal buried in sand. At first he wasn’t certain it was real, but step after step it became more pronounced. To his right a wisp darted through the trees. Then there were two more to his left. He heard a scratching above him, and several small shadows bolted through the overhang. He stopped in his tracks, surveying the landscape with the barrel of his rifle.

Yes, Captain, that’s them, Conroy confirmed as he stepped past. Keep your helmet on. They won’t attack unless they get someone caught in their wail.

Jackson nodded. He looked over at Brady.

Keep that helmet on, he ordered.

Brady returned the nod, and they pressed forward. The terrain started to become rockier, with several large, jagged boulders lancing up from the ground. Again, it slowed them down. And it was wearing them out. Jackson wondered what they would have left once they finally encountered their marks. It made him nervous.

He had little time to ponder the issue. The sudden buzz of electromagnetic engines whipping overhead caught their attention. Looking up, they could see the brief glimmer of the incoming ship slice through the valley, heading just to the left in front of them. It disappeared quickly through the thicket of branches and leaves overhead, but they were close enough to feel the jet-wash as the ship set down.

Conroy hurried to the front of the group, signaling for quiet the rest of the way. He nodded to Jackson and Brady, motioning for them to take their positions on the point. The captain sighed and glanced briefly at the major. They shared a short look, then started through the brush.

A few moments later, they came upon a small clearing about a hundred meters ahead, and within it they could see the glossy sheen of the unexpected transport. Its engines were idle, and the hatch still closed. No passengers were in sight.

The trees thinned out quickly in front of them, forcing them to keep their distance in order to maintain their cover. The squadron fanned out behind them some thirty yards back, buried in the thicker portion of the tree line. It left Jackson and Brady alone to do the dirty work.

Jackson shook his head. He didn’t have time to worry about what the Praetor and his men were doing. He couldn’t count on them to have his back anyway.

Brady slinked toward the forward part of the ship, finding a nice resting place between a mossy boulder and a thick hedge. Jackson climbed onto the lowest limb of a tall tree, a place where most of the leaves would cover his position. His line of sight was less than optimal, skimming through the hanging leaves and the shroud of darkness. A heavy haze also hung in the air as the ship’s jet-wash stirred up the dirt and dew. It was a lot to navigate, but he could see well enough to take aim. He lowered the barrel of his weapon toward the rear hatch, settling the butt of the rifle against that familiar spot on his right shoulder.

A few more moments passed before the hatch began to slide open. It sat empty for a several seconds before a man appeared in the doorway, slowly stepping down onto the waiting grass. He was a hulking specimen, having to duck just to step off the ship’s ramp. He was carrying a small sidearm in one hand, and a heavy battle axe in the other.

It was an intimidating silhouette to be certain. Just the type that deserved attention from a sniper. So Jackson calmed his breath, then squeezed the trigger.

Three shots rang out, with the whip and snap of his rounds following swiftly behind. Typically, that meant it was over. The target was dead. But not this time.

The intruder quickly twirled the axe in his hand, and the shots pinged off the thick alloy like drops of rain on an umbrella. The move was so fast, so deft and smooth, that Jackson caught himself with his mouth gaping open rather than sizing up another shot. By then it was too late. The man darted away from the ship, moving like a shadow through the dark quickly in his direction. Finally, the captain was able to unleash another volley, but his aim seemed half a step slow. Brady opened fire from the other end of the ship, but their attacker was just too fast.

The soldier fired a handful of shots toward Brady, rattling them off the boulder to the major’s left. The accuracy was stunning, and it succeeded in halting Brady’s fire just long enough for the man to launch the axe toward Jackson’s nest in the tree. The blade pummeled through the nape of the branch like a drill through soft wood, and suddenly Jackson was falling back toward the ground. He landed hard on his backside, a paralyzing sting blazing up his back and forcing the weapon from his hands.

More gunfire started. It came from a dozen directions. Jackson felt like he was suddenly a hare caught in a crossfire. The soldier swarmed past him toward the woods. The sounds of wood splintering and metal clanging joined the volley of gunshots.

Brady appeared over him, taking the captain’s hands. He tried to pull Jackson to his feet, but the soldier was back on top of them again. He came out of the haze and hit Brady in the gut with a brutal side kick, sending the major sailing through the trunk of a nearby tree.

Jackson stumbled backward, his feet unable to keep up with his urgency. The soldier came at him quickly, like a lion stalking some wounded prey. He swept Jackson off his feet, throwing him through the air and back toward the clearing. He hit the ground hard, his neck snapping back and ripping the helmet off his head.

His ears started ringing. His eyes were blurred. He could barely tell which direction was up. Before he could regain his bearings, the soldier was on top of him. A heavy foot fell onto his chest, and then the barrel of the sidearm swung toward his face.

But then, suddenly, the onslaught stopped. The soldier relented. The foot lifted from his chest, and the gun retreated. A familiar voice cut through the eerie forest silence.

Jacks?

Jackson’s heart ground to a halt. His eyes splayed open as wide as they could stretch. When they finally refocused, he saw Kyle standing over him.

He immediately thought it was impossible. He thought he was dead and in his last moments his brain was just latching on to whatever memories of hope it could find. But the seconds kept ticking by, his breath was still puffing in front of his face, and his vision was becoming sharper and more certain. It was his once-lost commander. And he was alive.

Oh my god, Jackson gasped. Kyle…

Kyle’s face creaked into a smile. He reached down and pulled Jackson back to his feet.

Are you all right? Kyle asked. I didn’t hurt you?

Jackson rolled his head from side to side. Just my ego, he replied. How…how is this possible? How did you escape?

I don’t have time to tell you, Kyle answered. I’ve got wounded on board. They need medical attention. Including Dan.

Dan is with you?

He is. But he’s hurt pretty badly, Kyle said, his expression becoming more somber. What about the others? Who else is with you?

Just then, a crackle in the trees to Jackson’s right caught their ears. Kyle spun quickly, but fortunately his eyes were faster to adjust than Jackson’s were. Brady was standing there with his helmet in his hand, grasping his abdomen just below his ribs.

Griffin…?

Major…, Kyle gasped, his eyebrows raising with the corners of his mouth. Never thought I'd be so glad to see you…

How did you…?

Get here? Kyle asked. That’s a bit of a story.

But…, Brady muttered, looking toward the ship. Angel…?

Kyle nodded. She’s here.

Brady managed a weak sigh of relief. It was quickly followed by a groan of pain.

You’re hurt? Kyle asked.

Yeah, you kicked me, you fucker, Brady moaned. Forgot how much that hurts…

Sorry, Kyle said. I couldn’t tell it was you with those helmets on.

Jackson looked up abruptly. His helmet was lying several feet away, its visor cracked and pieces of its shell scattered around it. He glanced back at Kyle with a look of panic. Then he heard the wail.

Jackson’s arms suddenly felt frozen in place, the sound biting him like rending metal. His legs seemed as though they were encased in concrete. He couldn’t move. But he could hear the clatter of a thousand clawed feet scampering toward them.

Kyle winced, the wail seeming to pierce even his mutant ears. It slowed him, but at least he could move through the paralyzing scream. He looked over at Jackson and the major, though their faces couldn’t have shown anything except desperation. Kyle managed to follow their gazes into the depths of the woods, where a shadow was building just beyond the trees. He raised the axe in front of him, preparing to take whatever onslaught may come.

Thousands of beady eyes waited in the lingering darkness, just beyond the edge of the clearing. How many more teeth lurked alongside them? They were about to find out.

A swarm of creatures flooded into the clearing, clamoring over each other as they rushed toward their paralyzed prey. Jackson felt panic start to sweep over him. Nothing worked. His hands wouldn’t budge; his feet wouldn’t let him run. Even as Kyle slowly positioned to guard them, it seemed just a matter of time before they were overrun.

That was when a bolt of scalding white lightning swept across the clearing. It seared through the trees and into the pack of Shrieks, unleashing a high-pitched hiss as hundreds of them were abruptly scorched into charcoal. They quickly retreated into the forest, their echoing howl chasing them through the trees.

The burst of electricity threw Jackson from his feet, its thunder so loud he thought it had burst his eardrums. He landed hard on his back in a pile of fallen leaves, like a log lying on top of a bed of kindling. Every hair on his body stood on end, as though the entire forest was suddenly blanketed in a veil of static. He felt as though he could sneeze and the whole of the woods would go up in flames.

But then, just as abruptly as the lightning had come, it withdrew, leaving another haze of smoke lingering across the clearing. Kyle had ducked to cover them, the broad side of the axe shielding his face. He looked weary braced against it. His face wore a look of extreme effort. But he was still standing. Jackson wasn’t sure why he was surprised.

Kyle looked over toward the ramp of the waiting ship, where another man stood. A band of smoke was still emanating from his fingertips.

You all right, Commander? the man asked.

We’re good, Hep, thank you, Kyle said.

Kyle turned and helped Jackson back to his feet again. But when they moved to do the same for Brady, they were greeted with a more gruesome sight. The major had fallen on a piece of the splintered tree trunk, and it had knifed through his torso like a spear.

Oh shit…, Kyle muttered. Major…?

Brady groaned, his abdominals twitching with each shortened breath.

Jacks, get over here, Kyle ordered. Hep! Hep, we need your help!

Jackson stumbled over to his commander, his eyes still flickering from the sudden burst of light. The heavier man rumbled over from the ramp of the ship as well, and they both stood waiting for Kyle’s word.

I’m going to lift him off, Kyle said. Cover the wounds. A lot of pressure, you understand? Hold it tight. Then Hep, you’re gonna have to cauterize it. It’s too big, he’ll bleed out.

Wait, wait! We’re gonna burn him now? Jackson insisted. Why don’t you just heal him?

I can’t.

"You can’t?"

Jacks, I can’t! My powers are gone! Kyle roared, his face stern and unyielding. I can’t help him. But maybe we can buy him some time.

Jackson nodded compulsively. They…they have a biogenesis chamber in the colony. If we can get him back there…he’ll…he’ll be all right.

Jackson didn’t mention the two-hour hike. He should have, but it wouldn’t help them right now. First, they’d have to see if the major lived long enough to get to that far.

Kyle grasped Brady under his shoulders and hips, and heaved him off the long, jagged piece of wood. The major made a sound like he was gagging, only the vomit came out of his back. The bloody mess splattered across their feet as Kyle set him down. His eyes were twitching. He was fading fast.

Hep paused and looked at Kyle briefly.

Do it, Kyle ordered.

Hep plunged his fingers into the softball-sized hole in Brady’s abdomen, and another bolt of lightning screeched through the air. Brady went rigid, his arms and legs suddenly spastic against his sides. It looked excruciating, but he didn’t scream. Jackson was thankful for that at least. It just made him wonder if the major was already dead.

Finally, the lightning stopped, and Brady lay still. Kyle dug a finger into his neck.

I’ve got a pulse, he confirmed. He’s alive.

Kyle wiped his forehead, which was uncharacteristically covered in sweat.

We need to get the others off the ship, Kyle said. Ellie will know what to do…

Just then, the clack of a gun cocking rattled through the trees. The three of them froze in place, slowly looking up to see half a dozen colonial troops looming over them.

Don’t fucking move, Conroy ordered, his chin leaking blood.

Kyle and Hep remained still. Jackson turned and slowly put his hands over his head.

Colonel, hold your fire, Jackson said. He’s a friendly.

Conroy wiped a streak of blood from his cheek. He did not share the sentiment.

This is what you call a friendly? he grumbled.

Colonel, please…, Jackson pleaded. He’s my commander.

Conroy shook his head, baffled.

This…this is Kyle Griffin? he asked. You…you said he was dead…

I thought he was, Jackson confirmed. But trust me, he’s not a hostile…

‘Not a hostile…?’

He was just defending himself and the ship, Jackson said. We attacked first…

Colonel…what’s your name? Kyle asked cutting into the brewing tension.

The Praetor showed him a sharp sneer. Conroy Descalso.

Conroy…listen to me, Kyle started. I have wounded men on this ship. Other Splinter soldiers that are badly injured. They need help…

Why would I want to help you? Conroy asked. "You just tried ripping us