Free Firemask: Book Two of the Last Legion Series by Chris Bunch Page A

extremely negative benefits from their faithfulness.”
    Rao looked at the gun, grimaced, and went down the corridor.
    • • •
    “All right,” Celidon said as he came on the bridge of the
Corfe.
“I have the deck, Mister. What’s going on?”
    “Sir,” the ship’s captain reported, “we have at least fifty, maybe more, ships in the air. Everything from yachts to aerial combat vehicles.”
    “What the hell set them off?”
    The officer shook his head.
    “Well, find out, Mister! We can’t take action until we know what’s going on for certain!”
    The captain, remembering he’d been promoted per Celidon’s anger at his vacillating predecessor and a firing squad, shouted for silence, then told all stations to report.
    Celidon waited, listening, not realizing one hand kept touching the haft of his dagger, then moving away.
    • • •
    “This is
Corfe-Two,
” one of the
Nirvana-class
patrol boats reported. “Three ships inbound from Balar …” the toneless voice changed, “…
Jane’s
IDs them as Musth fighting ships!”
    Almost simultaneously:
    “This is
Corfe-Four
,” another patrol boat called. “Six large ships on course toward D-Cumbre, unknown origin, no
Jane’s
ID! Request instructions.”
    • • •
    The bridge of the
Corfe
buzzed in confusion, and Celidon shouted silence.
    A speaker turned, reported as ordered:
    “Sir, Eleven Weapons Bay reports hearing a shot within the ship!”
    “What?”
    The speaker repeated the message.
    “Get the landing squad out,” Celidon snapped. “Find out what the hell that was! Get a security element to the conference compartment, make sure the Protector’s all right!”
    A tech reported:
    “Sir, we have an incoming, low-level flight, from the east, approximate speed two fifty kph, did not answer challenge on standard guard frequency. Three gun stations are tracking it.”
    “Knock it down!”
    “Yessir,” a weapons officer said. “Three Weapons Position, fire!”
    The bridge jarred as the nearby chaingun blasted.
    • • •
    Cannon fire slashed into the water less than twenty meters short of Loy Kouro’s speedster. He gaped, jerked at the controls, smashed into the waterspout.
    The speedster skidded, went sideways.
    Kouro fought for control, had it for an instant. Then the speedster snaprolled twice. Kouro slid the control back, and for an instant the speedster stabilized. He tried to climb for altitude, then the drive died, and the speedster stalled.
    It nosed into a dive, Kouro fighting it. He brought the speedster level, then ran out of altitude. At just under 100kph, it hit the water, skipping like a spun stone.
    • • •
    The hangar door slid open, as the
Corfe
fired across the parade ground, at some distant target in the ocean.
    “Gunner!” Garvin shouted. “That weapons station.”
    “Acquired,” Ho said calmly, and touched the firing studs of her autocannon.
    The 20mm cannon roared like a primeval beast, and collapsed-uranium rounds smashed into the exposed Kuran guns.
    Two ammo drums exploded, and a ball of flame swept the compartment, killing the gunners before they had a chance to realize they were dead.
    A panel slid shut, sealing the station, as the
Corfe
rocked from side to side.
    “Evasive action!” Jaansma called, and the two Cookes skidded out of the hangar, zigged out of sight as another cannon blasted holes in the tarmac.
    “No shiteedah,” Running Bear managed, hands blurring across controls as the Cooke banked, almost smashing into a shed.
    • • •
    Rao found three sprawled bodies in the corridor, and pushed Redruth harder. They ran into the airlock’s suiting chamber, found the Council, and Poynton with a pistol in each hand. A Councilman held the third weapon.
    “How’re we going to get out of the ship without getting gunned down?” Poynton said.
    “Give me one of those,” Rao said, and Poynton tossed him a pistol.
    “Your honor guard took care of the sentries,” Poynton said. “They scattered, got