Settling darkness, p.1
Settling Darkness, page 1
part #2 of The Valkyrie Chronicles Series
SETTLING DARKNESS
by Paul Heingarten
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, events and situations in this book are purely fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2017 Paul Heingarten
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decatur Media
New Orleans, Louisiana
www.decaturmedia.com
Cover design by Y. Nikolova at Ammonia Book Covers
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgements
To my wife Andrea, thanks for being my compass and for being steadfast by my side for all these years. May we have many more together.
To my friend Lisa Herrington. Your friendship is something I treasure. Thank you for your endless kindness and support, all you have done for me in my writing journey, and for just being a fantastic person. Lisa is a terrific writer in her own right, I encourage you to check out her novel “The Fix” on Amazon.
To Debra Horst. Thank you so much for your kindness and support for me and Andrea. You’re a terrific writer in your own regard and I look forward to seeing you published, hint hint!!
To Sarah Lambert-Sheffield. Thanks for your friendship, for beta reading, and for helping me get the word out about this book series, very grateful for you and glad to know you!
To the Bayou Writers Club. Your support and your friendship is invaluable.
To my editor Kit, you’ve done it again! Thank you for polishing this piece so well, as you have my previous works. You’re brilliant.
The term “Hell Hawk” used in this series is derived from the nickname given to several military units during WWII, including the 365th Fighter Group of the Air Force and Marine Fighting Squadron 213. Several members of my immediate and extended family have served in the armed forces, and it is my sincere hope the usage of this term by me in this series is seen as an expression of the respect I have for the military.
Special thanks to my street team, the “Krewe of Paul” for your time, interest and talent in helping me become the best writer I can: Lisa Herrington, B. Allen Thobois, Tanyawriter, Ray Antonelli, Jackie Tansky, Dennis Lavoie
For Andrea. Thank you for loving me for who I am, and in some cases, in spite of who I am.
I love you.
“The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming.”
(The Dark Knight, 2008)
The story so far…
Ana Crucinal, a twenty-three year old citizen of Lebabolis, has fled her home with members of the Action, the Lebabolis Resistance. The Action has worked to get as many willing citizens as possible to escape from Lebabolis and their cruel structure of forced labor in exchange for a semblance of security and purpose.
Baudricort, leader of the Action, and a former high ranking member of Lebabolis who designed many of its systems, wants to make amends for the destruction his work has done and what it has caused Lebabolis to become.
Ana’s brother Varrick, who had joined Ana on the Exodus with the Action, has been kidnapped by Lebabolis, along with a number of the Action who have fallen ill to a disease known as the Pox. Ana made a deal with Baudricort to help him in exchange for a promise to get Varrick and the sick of the Action back.
When a mission to cross time to modern day New Orleans is put in jeopardy, Ana takes matters on herself and flings herself across centuries to find a man they know as Xander Lee.
Xander Lee happens to be the pen name of a man named Nelson Forrester, who lives in early 2010s New Orleans and works on a book about a nation at war known as Lebabolis. After much convincing and some bloodshed, Nelson is forcibly taken to the year 3192 and learns that what he thought was a simple literary project is actually prophecy.
Together, Ana and Nelson navigate the choppy seas of their predicament. They also learn that while they are under the gun, their enemies are closer than they think, and sometimes the best course of action involves joining with the enemy of their enemies.
A deal was struck between Ana and Charista, military leader of Lebabolis, to have the Action join Lebabolis to fight the Omegans, a strange alien race who has marauded the Earth for centuries and has set their sights on the technology Lebabolis has managed to acquire for themselves.
Chapter 1 (Ana)
M y skin burned at the feel of the sun. The horizon bent upward over us, the walls of the crater we were in swept up like a giant hill. It was a low spot, but it was where the Omegans were headed. Which also made it the one place we had to be.
More of these craters turned up once we got further into the Outlands. Each of them had a giant ball of Valentium at their center and the Omegans were on top of a lot of them, so we had our work cut out for us keeping them away from as much of it as possible.
Three hundred of us filled up this crater. Spread out in a line that snaked up around toward the top of the crater, we stood and watched the Omegans. They’d followed us and fought us wherever they could. It was as much about payback for them as it was their Valentium. The unit we fought in Sector Five turned out to just be a scout. They waited in the wings with three regiments and once they learned what happened it was open season on us, Lebabolis, and anyone else who stood in their way. Kaitlinn and Jason commanded the two legions of troops from Lebabolis and the Action, and I ran this other unit. The plan was to join back up with Kaitlinn and then I’d break off with Nelson and a few others for a run at Cataclysm like we’d agreed.
That being said, we had still been on the run a month since the attack at Sector Five. Charista promised sending help whenever she could in her updates.
Some help.
At least the Action knew more about foraging for whatever we could get our hands on to stay alive and safe. We were the Coalition now, the combination of Action and Lebabolis dedicated to turning back the Omegans. I went back and forth on how I felt about working with Lebabolis, like most of us in the Action did. Charista made a strong play when she used Varrick and our other sick people as hostages so we were convinced. I had every intention that she’d pay for that one day.
People in the Action still considered us separate from the Coalition. We were a band apart, and that was just the way it was. Once we learned about the Omegans and saw what they did in Sector Five, almost leveling the place, we knew that as bad as Lebabolis had been, taking care of the Omegans had to be our number one. So, until the Omegans weren’t a problem anymore, we kept in this fight, on Charista’s side. I knew though, there’d be a time we’d have to make our move, get our people back who Charista had taken from us and make our own place in this world.
Until then, our agreement was fight to destroy the Omegans, and in return Lebabolis gave the Action its own peaceful existence. But I really wondered if we’d ever go back to anything that resembled peace after this. Charista had us as her army, and I didn’t see any scenario that didn’t involve her keeping her claws firmly stuck into each and every one of us.
And then there was our deal about delivering Cataclysm to Charista. Nelson and I had that job, and we’d have been well on our way if it weren’t for the Omegans jumping our groups every chance they got. They were more after us than Lebabolis ever was.
The Valentium rested at the bottom of the crater. We formed a perimeter around it far enough to be safe but close enough that any Omegan who tried a move was gonna get a little taste of pulse rifle in their face.
The comm was a chatter of people in the crater, also with some updates from Llewyn. Even though he was far away from here, he still kept an eye on us. His main job though was the move to the Range. His reasoning was it was Baudricort’s goal to get everyone there to safety and he was determined to honor his memory, or at least let his idea live until the move succeeded. I had to admit I was happy about it too. Even though he was cryptic with answers to my questions, or just withdrawn sometimes, Baudricort and his presence held it together, held the Action together. The Action he believed in, anyway. A pang hit me whenever he came across my mind, which was pretty regular since he’d died.
I stood next to Treg while we watched the Omegan crafts hovering in the distance. “I don’t like this,” I said.
“Hey, what kinda talk is that? You’re in the Coalition now, remember?”
“We’re in a barrel here. Could there be a worse position? They just gotta rain down whatever fire they got and we’re toast. So enough of that Coalition talk. It’s the Action, and you know it. We’re not partners, we’re their escorts.” I grabbed for a Digiview. “At least we know they won’t blow the Valentium up.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because they’d have done it already?” Even with a superior force about to run hell up our collec tive asses, a smile found my face. Guess that’s what kept me from going full out crazy.
Some others in our group held positions toward the upper edges of the crater for a wider spread of fire. My gaze of our unit, sparse but geared up and ready for a fight, was distracted by the dim glint of gray bands on the arms of the Lebabolis soldiers. Even in this united group, they held onto that one piece of their identity separate from the Coalition, from us as one unit.
Our boots sank several inches into the sand with every step we took, so most people stayed put once they had their spot. We were ready.
Treg exhaled a worried breath. “Think the Hell Hawks can break through up there if we take fire from the Omegans?”
“Whadya mean if? Jacobs is up there. He’ll figure out something.”
“Oh, him? I just hope whatever he does won’t blow us up too,” Treg said.
I never thought of Jacobs as the best pilot in either Lebabolis or the Action as much as he did himself. No matter what, there was never any question that he was the craziest. Rumor had it that on one of his Exodus runs he ran out of ammo and improvised by ramming his Hell Hawk through a detachment of Lebabolis troops. I was glad he was on our side, and I hoped he stayed on the side of the living.
“Jacobs will be busy enough up there.” I gazed through the Digiview at the crafts above us. “We got our own party down here too. Whoa, 2000 Omegan troop count? Great.”
We’d have been well on our way to Cataclysm by now, but this was another part of our deal with Charista: the Valentium had to be secured and out of the Omegans hands so Lebabolis didn’t run short on their fuel supply. We had reserves, but she wanted all the rest kept from the Omegans as much as possible. We wanted them as starved for everything as we were. Only problem with that was it kept us just as stretched out and I worried this all was gonna come down to who had more troops to lose out here. It was Charista’s plan, but I wondered just how we’d pull this off.
Side doors on the overhead craft opened and waves of troops dropped from them. Their forms dotted the sky like black rain. They landed on the edge of the crater a hundred yards over and made their way toward us in a slow march.
A gruff voice shattered my already shaky train of thought. “How’s it look?”
I eyed Dawn next to me, then returned to the Digiview. I wriggled my shoulder like I had an insect on it, which would’ve been a lot nicer than her. “Ain’t good, but you knew that already.”
Dawn had been sent by Charista as my own personal shadow for the trip to get Cataclysm. It was how Charista made sure we, especially me, followed every bit of our agreement. Dawn’s one job I could figure was being on my ass every living moment. I was over it and her after the first ten minutes.
She sighed and scratched her arm. “I’m in contact with Charista. She’ll send more troops to help.”
“When, next month?”
“In time; there’s a lot to handle. Jason and Kaitlinn both sent teams to secure some Valentium. Lot better than I can say for our efforts.”
I wanted to slam her head with my comm piece but instead turned it on for an update. “Weapons activated and ready; they aren’t here to say hey. Stand by with pulse grenades on my go.”
This was our routine since Sector Five: run, fight and run some more. For me, it was more than just saving Varrick and the others who Lebabolis had taken from us. I had a promise to keep to Baudricort and to several others among the living.
After just a few months here, I shouldn’t have expected the weird feelings to be gone. In very little time, I went from being this brave runaway girl to someone important, at least in a few people’s eyes. It all went so fast, I hadn’t time to even think about how I wanted this, or even what I wanted here. I’d seen soldiers as a child and young girl; they always seemed so sure of everything. And now I was in charge of this group of soldiers and I gave orders to people, most of them older than me. Their reactions were anything from quiet nods to sidewards glances as they waited for a royal screw up from me. I spoke quick and direct, and hoped the queasy feeling that simmered in my gut each and every day never made it to my eyes.
At least I had one thing protected. Nelson was close in the air with Jacobs. I wanted him out of the way; there wasn’t room for anyone who couldn’t handle the heavier weapons here. He wasn’t much safer with Jacobs, but at least Jacobs could bug out quick if things got terminal.
I felt a sizzling burn on the side of my face closest to the Valentium, which glowed a deep amber. This spot wasn’t in any danger of being a Verge site; there was too much Valentium in this one area. But it was a prime target for anyone who needed extra fuel or wanted to disrupt another’s supply. Since Sector Five the Omegans showed over and over again that Valentium was their number one. The collateral damage they managed a few times was just a bonus.
I watched the advancing soldiers and thought about our next move. The strategy played in my head a lot. There were so many pieces: the Omegans, the Action/Coalition, Charista, the Valentium, Nelson. It had started right after Baudricort died. Each attack, every move, was like a giant board with pieces everywhere, and I had to figure it out: who to attack first, and where, and how we’d make our way out of our current shit pile. Should have known I was his daughter.
Charista’s strategy at least was simple: secure the Valentium and don’t let the Omegans get any of it. We needed it for fuel anyway. Supplies were thin, and runs were impossible with the Omegans around every turn. I wished to hell Charista was down here for once. She needed to see how damned tough this battle has gotten. I couldn’t let anyone see how I felt, but some days it seemed like a rifle pointed into my mouth would be less dangerous. Lately, we had had to bug out and let them grab more Valentium to save our own asses. We had squadrons of Hell Hawks in the Outlands, but they couldn’t be everywhere. We have secured some Valentium already, but this looked like it was gonna be another loss for us.
Our outer positions fired on the advancing Omegans. Several Radomet sprung to action; their mechanical shrieks rang and echoed in the edge of the crater. My fists still tightened at that sound and the memory of when Radomets took Varrick and the rest of our sick.
The positions were a blur of smoke and weapons fire. It was tough to tell which side did better in this fight. Whatever happened, it was up to me to keep as many of our people alive. I dropped down low, my comm pressed close to my lips.
“Central to Wing 7, copy? We need air support, like last week, over?”
A loud thump in front of me shook the ground, and I lurched onto my back. The ships above fired on us as well. “They’re crazy; they’ll be gone too if any of their shots hit that rock. Don’t they know that?”
Treg helped me up. “I wanna know where the hell our air support is.” Treg took several aimed shots at the craft. “Remind me to punch Jacobs in the mouth if we make it out of this.”
The sky above was peppered with bursts of ship to ship pulse fire. I grabbed for a pulse grenade and armed it when I heard the comm crackle again. “Jacobs, on approach.”
“Book it, or there won’t be anyone left to rescue!” I yelled.
“They’re engaging us up here. I’m circling to the southern side of the crater. Watch for red smoke, then head over.”
“Wait, did we check for Darkness yet?” Treg eyed me.
We called it Darkness because there wasn’t a better name for it at the time. The Omegans had a device that deactivated our weapons. Vehicles, guns, even lights were shut down by this tech. We’d heard stories about it in the Outlands, but I hadn’t seen anything like it yet. It turned up in fights once the Omegan regiments made contact, but so far we hadn’t seen ‘em where we were.
“I got no clue. Gotta figure they’d have tried it before they sent their troops in for target practice though.” A whiff of sand flew up in my face. I swatted my hand and spit the gritty particles out.
