"Alpha Station Transport, this is unit Seven Zero Three," I called. "I need immediate transport—this is an emergency!"
No answer. Damn! Tara was in trouble, and I was stuck with no transport.
"Alpha Transport, Seven Zero Three, answer! I need an aircar, now!"
No answer. Why wouldn't they answer? They always answered! "Tara, Wester—acknowledge!" But there was no answer from her, either.
"Your friend is in great danger," Moontouch said calmly. "She is fighting for her life. There is nothing we can do."
I turned to face Moontouch. Her lovely face was softly illuminated by the rising sun—she was glowing like a princess of gold.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"She is touched by the Gods—I can feel her from here."
"Deadman! Alpha Station…" I was interrupted by the alert.
"GALACTIC NOVA! ANDRION SYSTEM UNDER OMNI ATTACK! GOING TO BLACKOUT! FLASH RED COMBAT ALERT! CRASH LAUNCH ALL COMBAT UNITS! ALL PERSONNEL TO ACTION STATIONS! ALL PERSONNEL STAND BY FOR TARGET INFO!"
"Scut!" I knew there would be no transport for me now. I was going to sit this one out right here.
"Wester, it's the O's!" Xmax and laser, in the background.
"Talk to me, Tara!"
"It's the O's! They're back! Scut! Look out!" More xmax, commands and curses. "They're in the ship! Holos! They're artificial, Wester! We can't fight them!"
"Get out, Tara! Get out!"
"We're taking casualties!"
"Get out! You can't fight them!"
"They want the ship!"
"Give it to them, Tara!"
"Get off this freq, trooper!" somebody demanded. "Ultra One, report!"
"Ultra, One!" An unfamiliar voice. "We've lost the bridge—we've got all our casualties with us!"
"One, Science! I confirm the unitium mag field is unstable and failing! The D-neg is about to be released! Repeat, we're facing a nova!"
"They're going to destroy the ship!"
"Tara," I interrupted again, "get your people off!"
"One, do you still hold the power room?"
"Twelve, Ultra…" My comset suddenly went off frequency. Alpha had cut me off.
"Alpha, you bastards, get me back on that freq!"
"Negative, Seven Zero Three. You can't help!"
"Get your people off that ship, Alpha!" But Alpha did not answer me.
Cut off and helpless, I reeled in warm morning sunlight, clutching my useless comset. Moontouch was by my side. Willard and Stormdawn came out of the tent, awakened by the fuss. Willard held Stormdawn's hand—he liked the little fellow.
"What can we do, Slayer?" Deadeye asked.
"Nothing, Deadeye. There's nothing anyone can do now, except pray."
"Then we will pray. What shall we pray for?"
"Pray for the soul of my friend—pray for her life."
Moontouch went down to her knees immediately, chanting an eerie dirge, eyes closed, raising her arms to Heaven. Stormdawn began crying, frightened, and Willard clutched him tightly. I had never before felt so helpless, so totally useless. There was nothing at all I could do.
When the ship went nova, it lit up the sky like a sudden new sun, totally soundless, flashing to life in a blinding hot core, blasting a million glittery white tracers out to fill the entire sky in a horrific, apocalyptic vision of destruction. The ship had been passing overhead, rising from the north. I gasped in fascinated horror as the tracers lengthened, shooting out into space and down into the at. The core broke up, spitting and sparkling, spewing hot debris. As the first tracers entered the atmosphere we got the sound, a sharp crackling, multiple thunderous booms, and a high shrieking like a wild fireworks display.
The Omni ship had detonated.
Moontouch moaned and shrieked, still on her knees, hiding her face. Her slave girls appeared and clustered around her anxiously. Deadeye's soldiers were frantic, running around in circles, gaping at the sky. Gildron was with a group of soldiers, in shock, shielding his eyes, stunned by the sight. He knew exactly where Tara had been—I didn't need to tell him.
I closed my eyes and prayed to the Legion's savage Gods. All I wanted was for her to live—I had lost too many comrades. It was killing me as well. One life—was it too much to ask? Spare one life. Just one. Take mine, for hers. Just let her live. Please!
Moontouch rose, clutching her robe tightly around her, blinking her eyes, looking up to the sky. She took a deep breath.
"Alive," she said. "Your friend is alive." My heart leaped.
The tacmod crackled. "Wester! We made it!" Tara gasped, out of breath.
"Tara!" I shouted, snatching at the tacmod. "Are you all right?"
"By the skin of our teeth!" She laughed, almost hysterical. "We crash launched in the shuttle! When the D-neg went, it started to suck us in—so fast I knew we were going to die! Then it blew. What a ride!" A babble of excited voices in the background—it sounded like a wild party. "Got a lot of dings and hits but we're all right! Entering the at!"
"Love you, Tara!"
"Likewise—tell you later—I got to go!"
I gave the high sign to Gildron, along with a big grin. He leaped into the air and let out a joyous roar.
"Do you really love her, my King?" Moontouch asked me.
"I love you, Moontouch. Only you. And I thank your Gods—they are strong!"
"The dead are stronger than the living," she said sadly, "and the Gods of the Book are all dead."
Chapter 19
To Serve the Legion
"Alpha Station Comlink, unit Seven Zero Three. Are you sure there's nothing for me?" I was on the comset again, lying half-naked on a pile of pillows under the tent as two lovely little slave girls gently massaged me from head to toe, rubbing healing ointments into my wounds. Moontouch was by my side, propped on one elbow, sipping flowered tea, as content as a cat, watching the proceedings with lazy interest.
"Sorry, Seven Zero Three. There's a war on, you know."
"Nothing at all? No orders? Can I send a follow-up to my message?"
"Can't do it, trooper—you know it. Uldo is still on comdown."
"Well, how about my request for transport to Uldo? Anything from Command?"
"Look, Seven Zero Three—when we get anything for you, we'll call you. I promise. All right?"
"All right! Sure! Don't get so touchy!"
"I'm not touchy. It's just that you call me up every couple hours, and we're not even engaged."
"Yeah—right. Seven Zero Three out."
"Just relax, Seven Zero Three. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn't be so anxious to get back to Uldo."
"You're not in my shoes. Seven Zero Three out." I put the comset down, annoyed. One of the slave girls was working on my shoulders, the other one was massaging my legs. They were certainly switching me on, and Moontouch knew it. Soon she would order them out and move on me like a phantom, an irresistible, silken vampire, hungry for blood.
I still had no idea what had happened to Priestess—or the rest of the squad. Merlin was dead, that was sure. We had left Psycho badly wounded and facing the DefCorps; we had left Dragon behind us with his arms secured, also in the path of the Systies. Priestess had last been seen charging back into the starmass, the O's unholy breath, desperately searching for Scrapper, lost in the holocaust. Valkyrie had thrown herself at the O—surely to her death. And Twister, also wounded, also left behind to cover us. Only Snow Leopard had been untouched. But I knew Beta One wouldn't leave a single trooper behind—he'd have gone after them all, and probably not came back. Damn the ship! Damn that cursed ship! Now it was gone, and we were gone, too. We were finished. Beta was gone. And I was relaxing in a tent of perfume, a tent of girls. It was all wrong.
I sat up, angry. Why hadn't they answered? Snow Leopard would have answered, if he had received the message. Perhaps he had never received the message. Perhaps nobody at all had survived!