Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

An alarm sounded, and the tactical officer spoke up. “I have incoming bogies in our threat box. Identified 22 targets at 199 mark 42. Range three light seconds and closing fast. Confidence is high they are either missiles or drones.”

“Best guess?” I’kik asked.

“Missiles, because they’re still accelerating. Impact in 355 seconds if they maintain acceleration profile.”

“Helm,” I’kik barked. “Prepare for maximum thrust. Everyone, strap in.”

Throughout Paku, the acceleration alarm blared, reminding Alan of the sound his pups made just before starting a fight. He didn’t have time to let it worry him, though, as he did his best to get the ill-fitting straps to lock into place on the too-small chair his visiting commander status allowed on the bridge. He was also trying not to think about the glass of the bridge front and sides, and how fragile it was compared to the armored walls of Starbright’s CIC. A second later, he felt the acceleration build as Paku’s twin fusion torches lit with a vengeance.

* * *

“Belt in!” a chorus of voices demanded in every shade between angry and concerned.

Shadow shoved forward from the squad bay hatch, his speed impressive. Even as Sonya reached for him, pushing against her harness to swing her brother into his acceleration seat, she knew her brother was too late.

The building acceleration shoved her back against the too thin padding, and Shadow’s graceful flight into the bay turned into a faceplant and skid on the metal deck. He gave a little yip of pain, though it sounded mostly like frustrated anger. He came to a stop less than a meter from his assigned position. He struggled to rise as the gravity built.

“Get down!” Bana barked, because there was a down now, and Shadow wasn’t going to make it to a jump seat.

“What do you think I am now?” Shadow snapped at the NCO in uncustomary anger.

The thrust increased from noticeable to uncomfortable, and charged higher still. Sonya could only watch as her brother did his best to secure himself by wrapping both legs around a stanchion and grabbing a pair of loose cargo straps. If we have a powerful sideways thrust, he’s in real trouble, she thought. The hubbub from their fellow mercs dwindled as the pressure increased.

Sonya pulled in and pushed out air at a deliberate pace. The Paku shuddered against her back, and a particularly overweight Oogar pressed against her chest. She blinked and restarted her breathing count. Four count in, five count out, five count in, four count out…

The more deeply she breathed, the deeper the tang of Human scent pooled in the back of her throat. Next to her, Hewers grunted, and she didn’t have to turn her head to know he’d clenched his jaw and likely burst more than few capillaries.

“Isometrics, not your mouth bones,” she said, her voice coming out more breathless than she expected.

“Humans are so squishy,” Drake commented, sounding only vaguely winded.

“Credit’s on our having a ways to go,” Bana said, and the sergeant sounded all but normal. Amazing what training could do. “You’ve all had the bloody nanite treatment; you can take it. Remember your training, don’t go all idiot on me now. Nobody should be graying out yet.”

“Not…graying…” Hewers replied, making a valiant attempt. “Just bit my damn lip.”

“Wish I hadn’t eaten all that bloody sausage for brekkers,” someone said and got a few halfhearted laughs in reply.

“You’re strapped in, at least,” Rex pointed out. “Point to the Humans.”

“I’m not losing a point because Shadow got lost.” Drake snorted. Sonya recounted her breathing—if Drake could sound as normal as Bana, she could, too.

“Tucker wanted to chuck you out an airlock for missing first call,” she said. “You’re lucky dad called him up, and he’s not here to see you miss safety check, too.”

“Was with Isgono.” Shadow’s tone managed conversational, and next to her, Hewers snorted.

“Not really the time for language tutoring, Shadow,” Drake interjected. “Even Rex managed to tear himself away from—”

A rippling growl cut across whatever Drake had been about to say next, and Sonya’s ears pricked up in interest. What had Rex been up to? He’d been nearly feral when they’d gathered in the squad bay, only the pressing uncertainty of their situation seeming to get through to him.

“Paulson, I didn’t know you had cheekbones,” she said, choosing to redirect the conversation before anyone pushed Rex to the point he unfastened his harness.

“Can’t all hide under fur,” Paulson grunted, his usual grin more of a skull-shaped grimace.

“Well, Dyffid gave it his best shot last winter, didn’t he?” The acceleration ramped up to the point even Bana’s voice started to sound strangled, but he held his body relaxed, muscle groups jumping as he flexed through his isometrics. “Looked like he glued a swamp rat to his chin.”

“Give him credit, Sarge.” Ripley matched the sergeant’s easy posture, tongue lolling as though they were all sitting on the beach. “It was a fine-looking Veetanho pelt.”

The acceleration changed subtly, and Sonya felt Paku roll to port. The hull reverberated with a popping sound, and Bana’s eyes got wide.

“What is it, Sarge?” Paulson asked.

“They’ve just fired missiles,” Bana said. “Sounds like we’re in a right proper scrum.”

* * * * *

Chapter 2

ZMS Paku, Classified Engineering Guild Holding—E’cop’k System

“Anti-missiles in the black!” the tactical officer barked as the hull popped from multiple launches. “ECM gain to maximum.”

The Tri-V to one side of the bridge, which had been building a picture of Paku’s surroundings, took on a greenish tinge to represent less detail as the ship’s electronic counter measures system broadcast all manner of interference, hoping to screw up the enemy missiles’ guidance.

“When can you get me some drone recon?” Captain I’kik asked.

“If we launch them now, we risk