From the Ashes

by A B Lucian

  Arkanians scurried in all directions to find cover and good firing positions. A lot of them fell in the surprise attack, but over a dozen still fought back.

  “Discipline, you stupid lizards! Have I taught you nothing? Blast them,” Mikail said at the top of his lungs as he fired his pulse gun at Daniels. Mikail’s gun didn’t pack the punch needed to kill an armored man, but his shots were precise and most skimmed Daniels’s head and pinned him down, even though he had the high ground. Kagos took two Enforcers and raced toward the staircase in his shambling, awkward gait.

  This was it. With Mikail distracted, Kagos gone after Daniels, and chaos raging throughout the arkanian ranks, they would never get a better opportunity. Yosh sprang to his feet despite the vertigo still mucking his brain. Sabina reacted at the same time. She yelled and lunged amid three Enforcers trying to hide from Skrill’s pulse blasts. Her hands were free somehow and two small knives flashed at the speed of light between the faces and necks of the Arkanians.

  Where had she gotten knives? Yosh grinned and looked for someone to shove his shoulder into. A growl attracted his attention—familiar and sweet—it was Assai, and this was the angry growl he knew so well. If she was angry, she was alive. He loved her when she was angry. The two Enforcers that had restrained her were on one knee firing their rifles at Skrill and Merril. Assai’s hands suddenly came unbound from behind her back, claws barred.

  Yosh yelled his battle cry from the bottom of his throat and charged the Enforcer who had maimed Assai. Both Yosh’s cry and Assai’s battle-growl startled the arkanian, and he froze. Yosh slammed into him at full speed. The rifle flew from his hands and landed several feet away. The Enforcer was on his back and Yosh was on top of him, and he saw the fear in his red eyes and enjoyed it.

  Assai growled somewhere behind Yosh and the other Enforcer screamed his lungs out. He grinned and plunged his forehead into the teeth of the Enforcer below him. The savage knife, still wet with Assai’s blood, fell from his scaly hand. After the first few blows, the arkanian’s eyes grew murky and his broken teeth fell away, carried by rivulets of blood. Sharp pain stabbed at Yosh’s forehead, but he didn’t stop. His grin broadened, he yelled in victory, and bashed him in the face again and again, until Assai’s tail wrapped around his bound hands.

  He stopped, gasping for air, letting himself drop onto the still arkanian. His cheek pressed against the wrecked face. The blood was cold and things with sharp edges poked Yosh’s skin through the red pulp, but he didn’t get up. He was still angry. He screamed through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to bite the arkanian. The Enforcer had to suffer more. It wasn’t fair if he didn’t.

  A second later, someone cut the bonds around his hands. Sabina and Assai pulled him to his feet.

  “We need to get out of here,” Sabina said, firing a pulse gun toward the other end of the hall.

  Yosh breathed in deep, trying to calm himself, and looked around through the blood pouring into his eyes. Kagos had overrun Daniels’s position, but there was no sign of Daniels. A group of Enforcers had fortified the middle of the hall with overturned tables and benches. That position along with support from Kagos’s group at the top of the stairs could control the entire hall. A door slammed open on the second floor. Enforcers poured through and headed for Kagos’s group. Kagos himself was busy yelling into the communicator, no doubt asking for reinforcements, and waving his good arm in the air. Soon Kagos would have the numbers to come down. But where was Mikail? “Where’s grandfather?”

  Sabina looked around, her gaze as confused as Yosh’s must have been. “Son of a—”

  “Move, move!” Skrill’s voice boomed above the gunfire as he waved his hands at them, and dragged the blood-raged Merril out of the door frame. Bright light flooded through the windows and the opened doors and a deafening thrum shook the entire building.

  Engines, Yosh though. Those are engines!

  The front wall burst open and the mauled hull of an arkanian transport crashed through, scattering chunks of concrete and steel the size of Skrill everywhere in the hall. It was too late to take cover. “Get down,” Yosh said and threw himself over Sabina and Assai. Something hard and hot hit him and the world went black.

  ◆◆◆

  Yosh woke up in a soft bed, again. His head throbbed in tandem with the familiar voice that kept talking. Above him, the image solidified in the visage of Doc Murdoc, his long nose and smudgy green eyes looming.

  The old physician grinned. “… And I’m still amazed at your regeneration rate. It’s truly fascinating.”

  The old panic surged through Yosh’s veins—the hall, the Enforcers, the explosions, the pulse blasts… Assai! He sat on the edge of the bed despite the vertigo and Doc Murdoc’s gentle attempts to push him back. His head spun and boomed, and he cradled it with one hand while he got his balance back. “Doesn’t seem all that amazing to me, doc, but I’m glad to entertain. Where’s Assai? What happened?”

  The infirmary was overflowing. Half a dozen injured crew members sprawled in the other two beds and on the floor. There were likely more in the vacant cabins close by. The lorran woman lay near his bed with a bandage around her head and one around her knee. She stared impassively at Yosh.

  “Easy Yosh, easy,” Doc Murdoc said as he held him by the shoulders. “Assai is in her quarters. I’ve patched her up, but she needs rest. She’s tough, but she can’t heal as fast as you.”

  So she was alive. Yosh exhaled slowly. “What about her… her—” Yosh raised a hand to his face.

  Doc Murdoc shook his head. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much I could do about her eye. I just don’t have the proper equipment, and to be honest I’m not that skilled a physician.” The doctor must have seen the expression on Yosh’s face. “But worry not, with the proper facilities we can get her an implant. Her sight will be almost as good as before.”

  Two men shuffled toward them. It was Miles and Captain Dupont. Yosh was glad they were alive. Miles had a stiff leg, and the captain had a broken arm, bandaged and kept tight against his chest.

  Miles grinned and slapped Yosh over one shoulder. “Well aren’t you a tough cookie?” Yosh’s bones hurt enough for Yosh’s brain to freeze up a second from the pain, but he said nothing. He smiled back at Miles.

  “I’m glad you are all right, Yosh Farmer,” The captain said, stopping in front of him.

  “What happened? How did I get here? Where are Sabina and grandfather?”

  Miles shrugged and ran a callused hand over his bald head. “What happened? We came to get your asses out of the fryer. I thought you guys were the ‘infiltration team’, eh?”

  “We crashed one of the arkanian transport ships into the building,” Captain Dupont continued. “You threw yourself over your sister and Assai, and debris from the wall hit you. Your sister would have been fine, but Assai would probably have died if not for you.” The captain hesitated. “Thank you.”

  Yosh nodded absently, the image of Assai’s torn eye on the floor haunting his mind. “Did we get him? Did we get Mikail?”

  The captain’s eyes softened. “Yosh, we found no trace of Mikail or Olexander.”

  Yosh slammed a fist into the iron bed frame. “Blast that bastard!” Every eye in the infirmary was on him now. Marge and Bob huddled in a corner. Marge had a large bloody bandage wrapped around her waist, and Bob cradled her head with moist eyes.

  Yosh jumped to his feet and struggled to keep his balance. “We need to go back. We need to find him.”

  Miles’s steadied him with a large paw.

  “It’s too late, Yosh,” The captain said, shaking his head. “If Olexander didn’t die in the crash, then Mikail took him. We saw a Protector scout ship lift off a little while after we retreated from the mess hall.”

  Yosh pushed Miles’s hand away. “He’s not dead.”

  They were silent for a moment. Yosh didn’t know what to do. Everything he had tried had ended in failure and death. Mikail had slaughtered dozens of slaves to lure him into
a trap. What kind of person concocts a plan like that? He looked across the room and saw Ara tending to her father. Merril stretched out on a bed with a huge burn across half his face, the blue skin singed and brown and drooping down his cheek. Next to them, on a chair too small for his bulk, sat Skrill; he only had a few charred patches of dark fur, but seemed healthy otherwise. He stared at Yosh, but his eyes held none of the anger and hate from before. Skrill nodded slowly. He almost seemed respectful.

  Yosh blinked and returned his nod. “What do we do?” he asked, turning to the captain. Captain Dupont always knew what to do.

  The captain sighed and his eyes looked somewhere in the distance through the wall behind Yosh. “Mister Headly assured me it will take some time for Mikail to arm his nuclear arsenal, and by his account, we have ninety minutes until the cruiser’s ordnance is ready. It is very important we keep our main systems offline until then. Regardless if they launch or not, we will lift off at the last possible moment and race toward Mandessa’s magnetic north pole at full speed. Their sensors might spot us, but I’m hoping they will be too busy to pay attention to a blip on their sensors. And once we reach the North Pole, I’m hoping the magnetic disturbances hide us.” The captain paused and stared at the floor. “It’s our only chance.”

  Yosh’s breath came in ragged puffs now. He couldn’t control it. “There are 800 million slaves on Mandessa…” He would have liked to sit back on the bed.

  “Is the blasted Mikail human’s fault!” Skrill stood and approached them. “I should go to him and rip him apart.” He showed them his large, clawed hands. “Skrill see how he torture kohiri girl—like Sarla. Skrill see Yosh human heroics. Skrill see Mikail human madness.” He continued in a softer and more menacing a tone. “Skrill want to tear arkanians’ hearts out…”

  Skrill’s rage fed Yosh’s own, sparking the roaring inferno inside his guts. “We can’t let 800 million people die, captain. We can’t use them as distractions as we scurry to safety.” He shook his head. “We can’t. You said you were part of the resistance and my grandfather recruited you for the rebellion. Then we can’t stand by and let this happen.”

  The captain shook his head vigorously. “Don’t you think I feel the same way, Yosh? I want to do something, but there is nothing I can do. I won’t pit this ship against Mikail’s cruiser. It is a fight I can’t hope to win.”

  He was right. Yosh’s mind still searched for something to say, arguments to support his cause, but every idea he’d had so far had ended in death.

  The captain reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small data disc. “This is for you. Your grandfather told me to give it to you in case… In case it looked like he would never return to Mandessa, to you.”

  Yosh swallowed hard and accepted the data disc.

  “I have lost seven good crew members, and a dozen more are injured,” the captain continued. “I am sorry, but I am not committing this crew to another fight they cannot win.”

  ◆◆◆

  The terminal in front of Yosh swallowed the small data disc. He was alone in the captain’s quarters. The room was not as impressive as Yosh thought it would be: gray metal walls, poor lighting, and very few decorations. The only personal item was a picture of the captain as a young man and an older, bushy-browed man who kept the younger close with an arm around his shoulder. They both smiled. They seemed happy. The old man’s face was creased and withered, but he smiled with every inch of his face, and the picture had caught the younger version of Captain Dupont peeking at the old man reverently.

  Something was written on the synthetic wooden frame: “Captain Bailey Archibald and First Gunner Alain Arkan Dupont.”

  The terminal’s screen flashed to life. An image of his grandfather stared Yosh in the face, but it took Yosh a few seconds to recognize him. His old raggedy grandfather didn’t look so raggedy. His hair was still snow white and short, but it was not all tangles. It was neat and arranged and combed toward the back of his head. His beard was trimmed and elegant, and his clothes were different, fancy. Yosh always remembered his grandfather with the same roughspun brown tunic all slaves wore. But on-screen he wore a black suit of smooth cloth, the kind Yosh saw men wearing in the old historical vids, and a white shirt beneath it.

  “Greetings, Yosh,” his grandfather started. “First, I must apologize. I am so very sorry I am not telling you all this in person. And I am sorry I hid this from you so long. That Captain Dupont saw fit to give this disk to you means things have gone wrong, terribly wrong, and I won’t get the chance to tell you in person everything you need to hear.

  “In case the Captain has not told you yet, or if perhaps you have not figured it out on your own… Yosh, you are a Protector of the Earth by blood. I’ve told you stories about the Protectors and their deeds, their beliefs, their kindness and their skill. About what they meant to the entire human race. We were the best and the finest humanity had to offer.

  “As of this moment, please take off the disproportionate glasses and stop using the eyedrops and the ointment for your boils. You don’t need them, Yosh—you never did. The boils should all disappear within two days at most, and your eyesight will gradually improve. I’m sorry for putting you through this, Yosh, I truly am, but it was safer for you if you didn’t know.

  “A thousand questions must buzz through your head right now. I know. Trust me, I understand. You were always curious, as was your father. I promise to do my best to answer everything in this recording.” His grandfather paused and looked to the right, seemingly adjusting something off-screen. “First, I should begin with myself. You are a smart lad and it probably occurred to you by now that I’m not a merchant from Rigellia who was brought into slavery by the arkanians. I was born on Earth. I am a Protector of the Earth.

  “You deserve to know everything about me, but sadly, there’s no time. I’ll tell you everything I can. You can’t imagine the many times I wanted to tell you about your heritage while you were growing into the fine young man you are today.” Another small pause. “I was born on Earth. My hometown was right in the middle of the Siberian tundra. You won’t recognize the name, the place doesn’t exist anymore. Even when it existed, it wasn’t very well known. But it was beautiful Yosh, gleaming glass towers reaching toward the sky, vast gardens surrounding residential areas, wide streets, clear rivers…” His grandfather caught his breath. “I was born there in the Earth year 2283. I know, I know, you think it’s impossible, but trust me—it’s not. Protectors can live for upwards of two hundred years.” He chuckled. “Maybe a bit more.”

  “I never wanted to be a Protector. Blast it, I would have never joined the military if it weren’t for my father. Our family had a military history going back generations. It was inconceivable that I would aspire to do anything else. We had our share of squabbles over that. Regardless, I wanted to please him, so I did as he wanted. I graduated from the Academy after four years with the rank of Ensign, First Class. It was as high as one could climb before graduating. Father was proud, so I was happy.

  “Yosh, I’ve told you about Darkheart, Jack Mullen, leader of the Protectors and humanity’s hero. Every story I told you was true—no embellishing, no lies. We were the best of humanity, and he was the best of us. It was him who handpicked me from the new graduates to join the ranks of the Protectors. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry.

  “They put me through their enhancement programme and my body accepted the modifications. I healed faster than any human; I was stronger, faster, and I learned new skills quicker than before. My memory seemed flawless. There were other, more subtle changes too. The Protectors’ scientists were good, Yosh, the best. Perhaps that was their fatal flaw.

  “They could graft instincts into people. Base needs, as if they had evolved naturally. Every Protector has the innate need, the desire, to protect humanity and Earth with every fiber of their being—with all their skills, knowledge, and strength of will, with everything that makes them human. That’s what Protectors
represent, Yosh. We are humanity’s survival instinct. We are the gun in humanity’s hand. Its future, its freedom, its spirit given form.”

  His grandfather’s face saddened, and he ran a hand through his short beard. “You are probably wondering how humanity lost the war despite all my talk of how good the Protectors were. The truth is, we made a mistake, a big one. And it was because we were desperate.” Olexander’s eyes flashed, and he seemed to stare right into Yosh’s eyes. “Never let despair or fear guide your actions, Yosh. Never!”

  It took a few seconds for his grandfather to regain his composure. “The war was going badly. After three years of bleeding across the stars, the tide turned against us. The arkanians had numbers, and they threw themselves against us with fanatical fervor. There were too few Protectors. We had superior technology, superior tactics, superior weapons, but they had superior numbers. Human fleets were swarmed and destroyed, along with the Protectors leading them, and soon we began to lose allies. Other races joined the Arkanian Empire when they began pushing us back. We still could have won,” his grandfather said, clenching his fist and shaking his head. “We could have won against the overwhelming odds. We were the best, unstoppable and we would have beaten them if not for our despair. The government on Earth pressured us into enlisting more and more Protectors against the rules. Not everyone could be a Protector. Not everyone should be a Protector. Only those of great skill and high moral standards, strong of mind and body. But we ignored the rules in the face of despair, and it cost us Earth. Earth and over two billion lives.

  “We were betrayed, Yosh. Mikail Munov was his name, a young man haunted by his own personal demons. He led the bulk of the arkanian fleet straight into our solar system. The battle lasted a week. When it finished, I saw my father cry for the second time, and the last.