Eclipse blackout book 5, p.11
Eclipse (Blackout Book 5), page 11
“I think,” he murmured to himself, “I think we might have a serious problem.”
Roy gasped, but before he could say anything, a distant rumble vibrated the air. Something was coming, something big.
The moment Jackson thought that, a group of Krakzid battle craft descended through the dome. They didn’t attack. They just waited there, suspended above the furious Grocit. Their inaction disturbed Jackson as much as the spire itself. What were they waiting for?
Without thinking, he slid his hand toward the pocket where he kept his weapon. That something big that he felt coming—it was a fight, a big fight.
The Grocit felt it, too. Benedict fluffed up his fur and growled. His growl didn’t sound like the whiny squeak of a child or a teenager this time. Benedict sounded angry, menacing.
Jackson glanced over at the creature. Benedict hunched his shoulders and narrowed his eyes in blood rage, not at the fighter craft but at the spire itself. He let out another broken roar. The sound went through the assembled Grocit, and they all charged at once.
They barreled at the spire. Jackson didn’t hold out much hope for a different result, but he wouldn’t stand by and watch. He pulled both his weapons and fired at the spire’s thick base.
The pulses struck the electrical cage, and the impact thumped outward as the Grocit hit it. Some got stuck to the spire’s energy field, but Jackson’s weapons definitely weakened the cage. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t invulnerable, no matter what the Krakzid might think.
He fired blast after blast into the energy field. The cage crackled as menacingly as ever, but it failed to throw the Grocit off. It didn’t let them through to reach the spire, but it forked in random directions instead of concentrating on the Grocit.
“Fire!” Jackson yelled to Roy. “Shoot!”
Roy pulled his own weapons, but he didn’t shoot at the spire or its field. He turned his wrath on the Krakzid fighter craft. He fired into the air, but they still didn’t move. Why?
This wasn’t working. Jackson stopped shooting and broke into a run. He charged the spire and clicked down the firing mechanisms on his handhelds. He depressed the buttons until they stuck. The weapons buzzed as the timers engaged.
How long did Liri say he had before they detonated? He couldn’t remember. Oh, well. He dashed up to the energy field. Benedict stood at the rim of the cage. Electricity sparked off his fur. He convulsed and jerked as the charges jolted through his body.
Jackson took a chance and thrust his hand into the young Grocit’s fur. He slithered his arm right up next to the Grocit’s body, where the electricity couldn’t reach him. Benedict’s hair dissipated the power.
Jackson punched through the cage and dropped the overloading weapons. He yanked his arm back and tore Benedict off the field. “Get back, all of you! Get away from the spire!”
He towed five Grocit free. A few others managed to free themselves and dive clear before the weapons detonated. Jackson hustled Benedict away as a deafening explosion reported across the spire’s base.
The blast blew out the electrical field. Some of the stricken Grocit dropped to the ground. Others saw what happened and reacted in a heartbeat. They lunged for the defenseless spire, but the instant they got near it, the fighter craft attacked.
They scattered lasers all over the place, not even trying to miss the spire. They didn’t have to worry about it. The lasers that hit it only deflected off its smooth black surface. It stood tall and terrible for all time. Nothing could bring it down…or could it?
The fighter craft made up for their inaction now. Their engines erupted and they blasted onto the field, cutting down everything in sight. Jackson bolted backward, scrambling to get his hands on another weapon, but handhelds couldn’t touch these craft, especially not the big ones.
The Krakzid force whizzed into the dome, hunting down everything left alive. They hounded the Grocit around and around the spire. One of the largest craft mowed down ten Grocit and wheeled at the far end of the field to come roaring back.
It thundered over the spire, lasers carving a straight furrow on either side of the spire’s base. The twin lasers skidded dangerously close to Jackson. He dove out of the way, only to get trapped by a smaller module.
The battle craft kept on going in a straight line. It boomed over Roy’s head. Roy tried to avoid the lasers, but one of them sliced into his foot. He went down with a blood-curdling scream.
Benedict could have gotten clear. He sprang the opposite way, but when Roy screamed, the young Grocit turned back. He dove into the laser’s path, trying to reach Roy.
The battle craft pivoted and turned both lasers on Benedict. The young Grocit thought better of it and turned tail. For the first time since he’d uncurled, he vaulted toward the spire and tucked himself into a ball.
He rolled along the ground at an unbelievable speed, but the battle craft dogged him all the way. Benedict zoomed past the spire, skidded sideways, and circled the other side of the base.
The battle craft couldn’t turn as fast. Benedict won himself a few extra milliseconds, and in that time, he sprinted over to Roy. Lightning quick, the young Grocit wrapped himself around Roy and leaped.
Jackson flipped onto his stomach and kicked himself to his feet. His fingers closed around his last remaining handheld. He would have to make this one count. The Grocit had sacrificed their lives to knock out the Krakzids’ power supply. This spire must serve some similar function.
Maybe, just maybe, he could damage it enough to shut down these fighter craft and save his friends. He could only hope and pray.
That meant taking out the spire. He measured the fighter crafts’ trajectory around the field. They could move fast, but with so many Grocit to target, they got distracted away from him.
He took a chance and jumped up running. He made straight for the spire, pressing down his firing mechanism as he ran. He hurdled a laser cutting across his path and bumped into the spire. He hid behind the structure while he assessed the battle.
When he peeked out, his throat went dry when another fleet of Krakzid attackers appeared through the dome. Their numbers covered most of the field. None of the Krakzid vessels had to fly anywhere now. They idled in formation and fired at the Grocit from above. They could pick off anyone with no problem.
The weapon in Jackson’s hand shivered. He wedged it between two modules in the spire’s base and sprang away.
He collided with Benedict charging the opposite way. The thick shaggy carpet enclosed Roy in its suffocating embrace. One of Roy’s arms dangled from Benedict’s grip.
Roy tried to beat the young Grocit into obedience. “Let me go! Put me down. I can fight! Let me go, Benedict! I’m serious.”
Jackson dove for them, but Benedict didn’t even wobble. The creature really was too big to be called a juvenile anymore. Jackson seized two fistfuls of Benedict’s fur and dragged him away from the spire.
They moved straight into the path of dozens of lasers. Bellows and screams echoed in Jackson’s ears. He tried to propel Benedict a few more feet away from the spire, but at that moment, a fully-grown Grocit barreled into them from the left.
The huge creature knocked all three friends flat. Jackson landed face-down on the grass and a crushing bang went off behind him. A wave of heat scorched his back and one cheek.
He buried his nose and mouth in the grass and prayed.
14
A mind-numbing silence followed the blast. Was everyone dead after all? Jackson pried his head up. Roy lay at his side with Benedict still wrapped around him. The spire pointed its nose to the sky beyond them. The explosion had dislodged a single module, but it didn’t harm the spire or weaken it at all.
At that moment, the same large battle craft floated into Jackson’s line of sight. It cut off his view of the spire and descended over the friends like an omen of death. The other Krakzid vessels overhead pivoted this way and that, hunting for any target.
The battle craft lowered right on top of the friends. Was that a laser port swiveling into position to target them for one last shot?
The smaller modules behind the battle craft let off sudden bursts of laser fire. The sound triggered the battle craft, and it fired on Roy and Benedict. Smoke and vapor stung Jackson’s nose and he ducked for cover again, but just as fast, the lasers cut out.
Jackson dared to look over his shoulder in time to see the battle craft’s lasers jerk upward. They pointed over his head. He spun around, and a lightning bolt of excitement shot him to his feet.
Across the field, the huge Vurlax freighter broke through the dome. Its engines groaned as it drifted to a stop a hundred feet above the friends. The Krakzid all opened fire at the same time, and lasers sizzled through the air.
The freighter’s gulper yawned open, and it disgorged hundreds of ships under the dome. Keteran Primals, the Kalichi transport craft, and dozens of others rocketed out and laid into the Krakzid as never before.
Jackson grabbed Benedict by the fur. “Get up!” he roared. “Get up! Now’s our chance.”
He charged the spire not knowing yet what he would or could do, but something would come to him. It had to. He had to bring this thing down if it was the last thing he did.
The ships belonging to the offensive plowed into the Krakzid, and an unholy gun battle erupted above the spire. The belch of guns reverberated to the ground and nearly shook Jackson off his feet.
The Grocit reacted the same way. They converged on the dome, and a dozen approached from the spire’s other side. Their eyes widened when they saw Jackson, Roy, and Benedict coming to meet them. The forwardmost Grocit veered toward the spire, with their comrades barreling in from behind.
In the confusion, the Krakzid noticed the insurgents on the ground making their move. They took their weapons off the offensive fleet and fired in front of the Grocit. The Krakzid tried to cut off the Grocit’s path to the spire, but nothing deterred them.
The first rank of Grocit came within a dozen yards of the spire, and the Krakzid changed strategy. Several battle craft dodged toward the offensive and set up a blockade. They took the brunt of the fleet’s assault. This gave the smaller, faster fighter modules enough breathing space to drop closer to the Grocit. The fighter craft whizzed level with the Grocit, and fired so the Grocit couldn’t reach the spire.
More Grocit catapulted in from behind. They would have run straight into the enemy lasers, but they didn’t. Those in front dropped to their knees, and their comrades bringing up the rear jumped on top of them.
The rearmost Grocit vaulted off their comrades’ shoulders. The crouching Grocit sprang up at the same time and propelled their friends skyward. The Grocit took to the air and soared at the stunned fighter craft.
The fighter craft swiveled to shoot down the flying monsters, but the Krakzid had never fought an enemy like this before. The Grocit were already too close. Even those that took lasers to their chests collided with the fighter craft, strapped their arms around the geometric modules, and held firm.
The Grocit brought down five modules. They hit the dirt, spouting lasers in all directions. Nearly all of them annihilated the Grocit that felled them, but even in death, the Grocit grappled them down so the modules couldn’t take flight.
Jackson saw the whole scene unfold. His instincts carried him on an inevitable course long before his mind caught up with him. A lone male Grocit tumbled closest to the spire. He grimaced in his death throes, still wrestling the module into submission.
With a brutal wrench, the module twisted in his arms. Its laser ports spat, and the Grocit’s head burst. His arms released, and the module whizzed into the air.
A force beyond Jackson’s comprehension gave him the power and energy he needed to make this work. He charged forward, but the module was already shooting upward at a dizzying speed.
Jackson whipped his body sideways, kicked against the spire, and launched himself at the thing. If the Grocit could do it by the sheer power of their own indomitable courage, he could, too.
He slammed into the thing with a bone-crunching hit. He hurled all four limbs around it and maintained his mental clarity just enough to avoid covering the laser ports. The module zipped sideways, carrying him with it.
Its engines surged, trying to overcome the tow of gravity. Jackson didn’t weigh as much as a fully-grown Grocit, and the module started to rise. Jackson looked around helplessly. Would the thing carry him all the way up into the battle?
The module bobbed higher. The spire’s tip came in sight. Jackson almost let go when, out of nowhere, a solid weight crashed into his left leg. Benedict had hurtled off the ground. He caught hold of Jackson’s ankle and ripped it off the module.
Jackson strained his arms to the breaking point as Benedict’s bulk dragged the whole shebang to the ground. The module floundered and, when that didn’t free it, its ports opened up.
Lasers sliced past Jackson’s face. He yelled in fright and jerked back, but he had the sense to not let go. This module was his only chance to destroy the spire—and the Krakzid with it.
He twirled backward and ended up looking at a sky black with ships. Explosions of ordnance, the booming concussions of EM pulses, and the deadly crackle of lasers formed a roof of destruction over his head.
The next instant, he hit the ground hard. Benedict sprawled and almost ripped Jackson’s leg from its socket, but Jackson didn’t have time to think about that. The module whirled and kicked in all directions, trying to shoot him. He had all he could do to keep clear of its lasers scattering away from him.
Out of the chaos, more Grocit pounced on the downed module. They grabbed it and added their strength to Jackson’s failing efforts. More Grocit fell when they got into the lasers’ paths.
Benedict pressed right up against Jackson’s side and took a laser to the rib cage. The young Grocit howled in rage and started pounding the module with his fists, but that wasn’t winning the war.
“Turn it over!” Jackson yelled over the noise. “Turn the lasers on the spire.”
The Grocit took a moment to hear him. When they did finally understand what he wanted to do, their combined efforts only worked against each other. Some Grocit pulled one way, while others tried to manhandle the module in a different direction.
Another blast of laser fire erupted from the thing. Jackson gave an almighty heave, and the module tilted. Lasers danced across the spire, but it held firm. “Keep shooting! Don’t stop!”
The sight electrified the Grocit. They stopped counteracting each other and put all their muscle power together. They rolled the module almost on top of Jackson in their zeal to blast the spire to smithereens.
After all that, Jackson’s arms failed him. He barely had the strength to save himself from being crushed. The Grocit wrenched the module even farther toward him, but at that moment, Roy ran over. He grabbed Jackson by the collar and hauled him clear.
Now the Grocit really went to town. They directed the module’s lasers not only at the spire but at the Krakzid force, too. They succeeded in distracting the Krakzid so some of the offensive fleet could dart in and land their shots.
Mayhem reigned, with neither force gaining the upper hand. The Grocit got so engrossed in handling their stolen weapon that they didn’t make much headway toward destroying anything, let alone the spire.
Jackson rallied and ran over to them. “Fire into the ground! Cut the spire off at the base.”
The Grocit frowned at him. They didn’t understand until he pointed at the sod around the bottom of the obelisk. This must have been a novel concept to them, because they complied at once.
Six Grocit worked together to rotate the module downward. The laser ports drilled into the soil and struck a layer of rock underneath the spire—at least, it seemed like rock.
The lasers punched into the smooth black pavement that made up all the Krakzid infrastructure. The instant the lasers touched it, the obelisk let out a pulse of blinding white light. A thump of unimaginable force zapped out of it and hurled all the offensive ships away.
The ships crashed en masse across the field. The Vurlax freighter smashed almost flat from the impact. Keter Primals tumbled head over heel, crunching and twisting into wreckage.
The Grocit saw what happened and immediately pulled the module away, but the obelisk just kept on emitting pulse after pulse until nothing remained of the offensive fleet.
Jackson stared at the tangled mess of the once-great collection of ships. All those people, dead. It couldn’t be true. His mind tried to block it out, but there it was, the giant stack of scrap left behind by the Krakzid weapon.
The remaining Krakzid fighter craft retreated out of the spire’s line of fire. The pulses radiated outward from it in all directions, but they didn’t damage the Krakzid vessels at all.
One of the battle craft angled its lasers downward again. One well-placed shot struck the module out of the Grocit’s grasp. The little vehicle streaked into the air and rejoined its own fleet.
Oppressive silence fell over the battlefield. Jackson, Roy, and the remaining Grocit stared up at the Krakzid ships. The Krakzid had won. They’d outmaneuvered the offensive at every turn. They’d planned this too well, and they’d overpowered their enemies with superior weapons.
Jackson’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t fight this enemy—not with a handful of Grocit, a whim, and a prayer. No one could fight them. Now he would never see Zenith again.
A sigh of resignation went through the Grocit. Their great arms hung limp and exhausted at their sides. Roy and Benedict clung to each other, both of them filthy with blood and dirt.
Jackson limped over to Roy. “I guess that’s it, then.”
Roy nodded, and both men turned their bleak gaze on the wrecked fleet. All their hopes lay buried inside it. Quort. Woolzi. All the friends that Jackson had come to rely on…he would never see them again, either.
His throat tightened. He should turn away. He should stop looking at it. He should look to the Krakzid instead. If he was going to die here, he should meet it with his head up, not sobbing over spilt milk.
