Defy the Worlds (Defy the Stars #2)(100)
“It has the ability to disrupt enemy ship signals. That’s enough.”
She runs from the bridge down the long spiral corridor of the Persephone. Abel’s footsteps thump behind her, but she wouldn’t look back for him even if she could. It’s like he said before: This is still her Directive One. Protect her world.
Time to come up with a new Directive One later.
When she reaches the launching bay, the exosuits are waiting. She steps in, puts her arms through the sleeves, and starts pulling it tighter around the shoulders. Abel stops in front of her. The fear in his eyes reminds her of the moment he saw her as Mansfield’s captive. “Don’t be scared,” she says.
“Your life will be in danger. Fear is a natural response.”
“Haven’t you been paying attention? My life is always in danger.”
Her joke doesn’t break the tension. Maybe Abel’s emotions don’t work that way. “We could take the Persephone into battle together, instead.”
“It’s even more useless in combat than the corsair.”
“But I had a thought that—”
He falls silent when Noemi takes his face in her hands. “Abel, I have to do this. You know why. You know better than anyone else. Please don’t try to hold me back. Help me.”
Abel remains still and silent for what feels like a long time but can only be a second. Then he zips up her exosuit for her. As the seams automatically seal, he leans his forehead against Noemi’s. He says only, “Come back to me.”
“I will. If I can I will.” That’s the best promise she can make on the verge of combat, and they both know it.
Together they turn their attention to the battered corsair. As Virginia-ordered penance, Abel’s been repairing some of the damage during the hours the rest of them spend sleeping. A human might’ve done the cosmetic work first, repainting the blackened hull scarlet or polishing the sheen on the fins. Abel’s more rational process has led him to restore primary functions. Noemi slides into the seat and activates the engine to check operations. She’s low on fuel, but she can get to the Gate and back with a margin to spare. The cockpit is again airtight. There’s no reason not to take this ship back into space.
Aside from the fact that Virginia will for sure kill her… but Noemi can deal with that later.
Abel reaches into one panel, performing some last-minute tweak that sharpens her navigational sensors to almost-normal levels. “If you can wait another ten minutes, I could—”
“No. I have to get up there.” That’s not her usual impatience talking; it’s her military training. The soldier she so recently was still lives inside her skin, and knows this battle has to take place as far from Genesis as possible. Every minute she waits is another five thousand kilometers Earth’s forces can travel.
He doesn’t protest any longer. Instead he pulls her close and kisses her for a long, sweet time. She winds her fingers through his hair, her entire body responding. Her mouth is learning how he kisses; her breaths fall into tempo with his. She knows him in her very skin.
The kiss breaks. Abel repeats, “Come back to me.” All Noemi can do is nod.
She punches the controls, and the cockpit slides shut. Abel walks backward a few steps as the landing bay door slides open. The cool meadow breezes from outside ruffle his dark gold hair. She stares at him, memorizing every last detail, until the go light flashes on her control panel.
After that, there’s no time for anything but the fight.
34
ABEL SUSPECTS NOEMI WOULD’VE PREFERRED TO HAVE been told that he intends to fly into battle, too. If she objects later, he’ll point out that he did mention the possibility of the Persephone going into combat….
That won’t be the full truth, so he rejects that option. Noemi is more than his friend now; he wishes for her to be the other half of his life. Dishonesty between them is inadvisable on every level. She’ll rage at him, but ultimately she’ll understand. He could no more leave Noemi to go into battle unprotected than she could fail to defend her world.
He takes off immediately, setting course for the Gate. The scene that unfolds on the vast domed viewscreen reveals a battle of such staggering size as Abel has never seen. Earth has sent through twelve Damocles ships, which he reckons to be more than half the Damocles ships in their entire fleet. The rebellious planets of Kismet and Stronghold will soon realize they’re unguarded. This can only be Earth’s final invasion assault.
But Genesis is ready for them.
The Vagabond fleet is assembling itself—haphazardly, in the way of a group of ships never asked to work together before. Still, they’re flying into action, every burst of blaster fire proof of the colony worlds’ pent-up fury at Earth. He sees the Katara in the heart of the action, all weapons firing, Dagmar Krall proving herself again as a leader. A few medical vessels, courtesy of Remedy, hover nearby to treat the wounded—of which there will be many.
Genesis has sent its ships up, too, though they are less impressive. The age of the vessels is dispiriting, as is their relative state of disrepair. But then one of the older ships fires, hitting a Damocles and rupturing a solid fourth of its hull. Abel reminds himself, Old is not the same as weak.
Amid green streaks of blaster bolts and the large lumbering ships, he sees his fellow mechs in their star-shaped exosuits emerging from the Damocles ships to attack everyone fighting for Genesis. Queens and Charlies one and all, the mechs fling themselves into the best tactical positions, even if it means they’ll be blown to shards within seconds. They risk themselves without fear. They can kill without guilt and be killed without guilt.