Karen Traviss - Gears of War: Coalitions End

My thanks go to Mike Capps, Rod Fergusson, and Cliff Bleszinski at Epic Games, for letting me loose in their wonderful universe; Epic Games cinematics director Greg Mitchell, DC Comics editor Jim Chadwick, and the outrageously talented voice cast of Gears of War 3, for striking sparks off me; and Ed Schlesinger (senior editor, Gallery Books/Pocket Books) and Anthony Ziccardi (VP, Deputy Publisher, Gallery Books/Pocket Books), for making it happen. The whole is indeed greater than the sum of the partsand a hell of a lot of fun.

Star Wars Republic Commando: Hard Contact

Star Wars Republic Commando: Triple Zero

Star Wars Republic Commando: True Colors

Gears of War: Aspho Fields

Gears of War: Jacintos Remnant

Gears of War: Anvil Gate

NCOG RADIO LOG

VESSEL: CNV SOVEREIGN CALLSIGN CNV27

DATE/TIME: 20/BY/15 0455

STATION TO: ANVIL GATE/ANVEGAD

FREQ/CH/SAT: H5

OPERATOR REMARKS: ROUTINE SITREP CONTACT FAILED. AERIALS CHECKED SAT H5 STILL

UNRESPONSIVE. RADIO CONTACT PRESUMED LOST.

ACTION: ALL WATCHES TO AUTO-REPEAT CONTACT

ATTEMPT DAILY UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

OPERATOR: LT. MATHIESON D.

A former defense correspondent and TV and newspaper journalist, K AREN T RAVISS has also worked as a police press officer, an advertising copywriter, and a journalism lecturer. She has served in both the Royal Naval Auxiliary Service and the Territorial Army. Karen currently lives in Devizes, Wiltshire.

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So how many different varieties do those frigging glowies come in?

(Major Gill Gettner, Raven pilot, seeing the first Lambent stalks emerge on Vectes)

KING RAVEN KR-80 ON PATROL OVER NORTHERN VECTES; TEN DAYS AFTER THE INITIAL LAMBENT LANDING, STORM, 15 A.E.

Damon Baird tried to recall exactly how hed felt on E-Day when he saw his first grub.

He remembered the detail but not much of the emotion that went with it. But he guessed it had been pretty much like he felt now; a churning gut, a tight scalp, and a hardwired animal reflex to run or fight. He didnt know why these stalks looked different from the others, or what those big red blisters were doing on their trunks, but he knew at an instinctive level that he either had to blow the shit out of them or run like hell.

Being twenty meters off the ground in a hovering Raven ruled out making a run for it. He sighted up on the nearest blister instead.

Control, this is KR-Eight-Zero, contact in grid echo-five, Gettner repeated, like she was explaining it to the thickest kid in the class. Major stalk incursion. Three of the bastards have just erupted. I know Delta Squads a regular mini-army, but we could still do with some help.

Mathiesons voice never rose above flat calm, no matter how much shit hit the fan. I heard you, Eight-Zero, but echo-five is inland. Please confirm your position.

I know its damn well inland, Mathieson. Thats why its significant and why wed like a little backup. They shouldnt be here.

How many polyps?

None. Yet.

Understood, Major. Stand by.

Baird adjusted his aim again. Gettner was a charmlessly acid bitch, but she was right. The stalks, the monstrous tree-like growths theyd first encountered only weeks ago, should have been a long way out to sea.

No. We got that wrong. Theyre here, and that means theyve found a way to come up through granite. This place was supposed to be safe.

Yeah, like Ephyra. Like Jacinto. Why do I always believe that crap?

The stalks had already sunk a warship, an imulsion drilling platform, and any number of small boats. Maybe busting up through igneous rock was all in a days work for them.

Fenix, I cant hold this bird here all day, Gettner said. Those things had better shit or get off the pot.

Yeah, Ill pass that on, Major. Marcus stared down the sights of the door gun while Nat Barber, Gettners crew chief, took recon images. How long has it been now?

Two minutes, she said.

Give em ten.

Okay, talk among yourselves, kids. Ill just waste some more of our extremely limited fuel.

This wasnt the way it was supposed to be. Stalks erupted in seconds, and then the polypsevil little shits, all legs and fangspoured off them like giant homicidal crabs and blew up in your damn face. But there was no sign of them. The stalks just stood there, glowing and waiting.

Ive never seen blisters on stalks before.

The more Baird looked, the more he could see a cross on the membrane, almost dividing it into quadrants.

Okay, what the fuck are those things? he asked, more for the comfort of hearing his own voice than to get an answer. The blisters, I mean. Answers on a postcard, please.

Dom Santiago shrugged. Seed pods.

That makes me feel so much better.

Well, you asked. Dom looked over his shoulder. Hey, Cole Train? That remind you of anything?

Yeah, Cole said. Everyonesix Gears and a dogwas jostling for position on the edge of the crew bay, trying to get a clear shot for when the inevitable polyp spatterfest kicked off. Those weeds you get on old construction sites. The ones with those big seed heads that go off with a bang. Man, I used to laugh my ass off playing with those as a kid.

Me too, Dom said. Dont tell me you never popped them to see how far the seeds would shoot, Baird.

Baird was reminded of his solitary, miserable childhood again. He was a rich kid from a founding family. He didnt have adventures in forbidden places. He had extra lessons.

I never played on construction sites, he said, feigning disdain but wishing hed climbed over a keep out sign just once in his youth. Dear Mama would send the butler to do that shit for me. The bitch

Dom turned to Bernie Mataki. What about you, Sarge?

We didnt have them on the South Islands.

Construction sites?

No, that kind of plant.

Marcus was hunched over the door gun, scowling at the stalks. Ephyran balsam, he said. Oh, so he knew what Dom meant, too. Gunweed. Glandulifera ephyrica.

Marcus Fenix had never played on any damn building site, Baird was sure of that. His familyno, his dynasty was even richer than Bairds. The Bairds had a few nice paintings and a gated mansion: the Fenixes had a walled estate and more priceless art treasures than the frigging National Museum of Ephyra.

And now nobody had anything. The grubs believed in equality, at least.

Oh, yeah, I forgot, Baird said. You and Dom, carefree childhood buddies, yadda yadda yadda

My mom, Marcus growled, used to take me for walks around the Hollow. My mom the biologist.

Dom gave Baird a discreet jab with his elbow. Just zip it, Baird.

He said it in a weary voice, barely audible over the noise of the Raven even on the radio link. So Marcus had lost his folks; big deal. Everyone else had, too, and Baird didnt think the how and the when of it made much difference now. But he shut up anyway. He kept his eyes on the blisters as the Raven hovered level with the tops of the branches, feeling the air buffeting and drying his eyes. He didnt dare look away to put on his goggles. Mac the asshole-hound squeezed his head between Bairds leg and Dom as if he was keeping an eye on the stalks too.

Five minutes six and still nobody said a word.

Then the blister that Baird was focused on suddenly stopped throbbing.