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

Ripley had a second’s elation as one of the drones blossomed visible just a kilometer or so to their port, before an ice-cold sensation lanced through her chest. She blinked in confusion as the cockpit’s pressure alarm blared. She tried to reach for an oxygen mask, but a jolt of agony tore through her chest. She coughed, more agony and blood. “Dad?” she whimpered and fell into darkness.

* * *

The cockpit hatch shuddered with the force of his impact, his CASPer making it a tight fit. Rex paid that zero mind—he’d smelled his sister’s blood, and a hatch taking damage meant absolutely nothing in the face of that.

“Careful, son!” Alan called from behind him. “We’re dead stick, don’t know where they are!”

“Right, Father,” Rex replied, then called through his suit’s loud speaker. “Flop, you breathing?”

There was no answer. The blood in the air wasn’t all Ripley’s, and Rex’s nose could process faster than his thoughts—one scent alive, one scent already colored with death. With another mechanically driven punch, the hatch crumpled, and he forced his way through.

Rex redirected his momentum toward the form of his sister. She wasn’t moving, blood floated from her muzzle, and her eyes were closed. No, he willed silently. He pressed his hands to either side of his sister, anchoring himself to the ragged edge of her chair. Why hadn’t she been wearing her CASPer?

He knew why, knew she couldn’t pilot the ship or be tactical or whatever she’d been doing in the suit, but her CASPer could have protected her from…this.

“DYFFID!” he bellowed, loud enough his chest burned, willing the medic to appear immediately, already, twenty seconds ago, before the smell of Ripley’s blood had hit like the impacts on the Paku. He didn’t question how he’d smelled it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t remember unhooking his harness and flying through zero G, despite the fact they’d clearly taken fire and likely had more to come.

Dyffid didn’t care, either, as the medic-trained trooper appeared next to him before his thoughts could circle too far. He was out of his CASPer, a breathing mask over his face. The already unbelievably crowded cockpit was now tight as the womb.

“She’s fading,” someone said, voice choked. A whine crowded his throat when he realized they were his words, his voice, his certainty as the familiar scent of his sister dipped into something fainter, something sharper, something with a sheen of roadkill on it—death, creeping into the clean smell of her. He wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t allow it—

“Back off, Rex, I got her, I got her.” The medic’s voice registered finally, and he let her float so he could take her aft—not far, he couldn’t leave her side—out of Dyffid’s way.

His eyes locked onto the device in Dyffid’s small Human hand. Nanites had never been so beautiful, and he’d use every last one in Silent Night’s possession if it would be enough to save her.

Easier to fixate on the applicator, the steadiness of their medic, rather than the bright string of blood spiraling from Ripley into the cockpit. It smelled so strongly of her, he could taste it, and his throat closed in protest. He watched silently as Dyffid dialed the applicator and jammed it into his sister’s thigh. She didn’t move in response. He knew the nanites were painful, so her lack of movement was bad. Very bad.

Let it be enough. The words beat against his skull.

Let it be enough.

“Phoenix 001, Wasp 004. We’ll be to you in thirty. Hold for us.” Was that Captain Tesfaye’s voice? Silent Night’s most decorated pilot, on one of the Wasps? Way out here?

They’d found the Starbright, or whatever was left of it, and that fact could have been rotten meat in his mouth.

“Prognosis?” their father asked. His CASPer’s cockpit was pivoted open, and he had a breathing mask on, too. Only then did Rex realize the atmospheric pressure inside the stricken Phoenix was well below normal. Dyffid had already fitted a Zuul-shaped mask over Ripley’s muzzle. The air was full of fear smells, from the Humans and his siblings.

“I’ll get her CASPer,” he said, suddenly aware of the one thing he could do. “We’ll put her in it and—”

“Smart,” Dyffid cut him off, not turning from Ripley’s floating, fading body.

“Do it,” Alan said, and Rex heard the empty CASPer being unbolted from its harness.

Rex knew the rest of the squad was talking to him the moment he pushed through the hatch, but their words bounced off him without registering. He dove through the compartment, then froze, forgetting how to unlock her empty CASPer. He willed something to happen, and then other hands appeared, both Zuul and Human.

He couldn’t look away from Ripley’s CASPer, the next thing that needed to be done to provide some measure of protection for her, but he knew.

It was his father and Sonya, there where he needed them, detaching the empty suit. The rumble of Shadow’s voice keeping everyone else out of his way.

And then there was Drake, helping him maneuver it in zero G, helping him put Ripley’s motionless form into it, helping him listen to Dyffid’s clear, short commands.

Helping to keep Ripley alive.

Let it be enough.

* * * * *

Chapter 4

Classified Engineering Guild Holding—E’cop’k System

Alan never took his eyes off Ripley, making sure her chest continued to rise and fall. The command function in his CASPer let him monitor the life signs of all other drivers. She’d come as close to dying as you could without actually going through with it.

The dropship was pretty much toast, so they’d all transferred to one of the two Wasps that had come to their rescue. Everyone in the back was okay, minus a little laser damage. The drones’ weapons hadn’t had enough power