Shattered Alliance

by Benjamin Wallace

  As the city burned, the Shandoran military rushed to restore order. They gathered in pockets and called for calm as they directed the populace to relative safety. Gone were the dress uniforms and polearms of the parade guard—these troops were dressed in battle gear and armed with modern combat rifles. They were trained and honor bound to protect the city from all invaders. Barking orders and directing soldiers, the Shandoran commanders began to coordinate the defense of Kartoka.

  The first enemy dropship disrupted their efforts. The ship was little more than a gray box, but it rained fire on the population as it approached low over the city. The suppressing fire continued as it dropped into the center of a market square and unloaded its troops. They moved swiftly down the ramp and overwhelmed the Shandoran defense force. Any citizens caught in the crossfire were left to writhe in agony.

  More dropships came. They started arriving in groups of three and five, and spread throughout the vast and ancient city.

  Cason and Priscilla took cover behind a low wall on the outskirts of town as a dropship buzzed over their heads and delivered more soldiers into the fray.

  This new group raced down the ramp and mowed through a group of fleeing civilians before moving deeper into the city. The shrieks of the dying lingered in the air.

  “Hey look. It’s another man’s freedom fighter,” Cason said.

  “Nope. I was straight up wrong,” Priscilla said. “They are clearly the bad guys.”

  “Maybe there’s another side we’re not seeing here. You want to ask them?”

  “They seem a little busy at the moment.”

  Cason risked another look over the wall. The Shandorans were going to lose this one. It wouldn’t even be close. They weren’t even going to get a story of noble sacrifice out of this. It would be up to the invaders whether they wanted to take the fight all the way to genocide or just leave it as a thorough trouncing. The Shandorans couldn’t stop them. Neither could the Alliance, even if they found the will to act.

  Cason ducked back behind the wall.

  “How’s it going?” Priscilla asked. “Are they winning now?”

  Cason ignored the question and mulled over the situation. “This could be a good thing.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking.”

  “All of this looks an awful lot like a Plan B,” Cason said. “This madness could be the perfect cover for a rescue. Provided we don’t get shot, blown up or captured ourselves.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “We can get them out in the confusion,” Cason explained.

  “No, I get the plan. I guess we just have a different idea of what opportunity looks like.”

  There was a flash, and a small storehouse across the square exploded. The pair got lower to the ground as the debris fell around them. A wooden door crashed into the ground a few feet from them.

  “But I certainly hear it knocking,” Priscilla said.

  “Good. We’ll find the kid and—”

  “Not so fast, super spy. I was hired to get you in and get you out. I’m the pilot. Nothing more.”

  “Well, seeing as you don’t have a ship, I thought maybe we could redefine your role a little.”

  “I’ll get a ship.”

  Another explosion drove them further into cover.

  “In all this?” Cason asked.

  “Oh, it’s a perfect opportunity,” she said.

  “Fine,” Cason relented. “You get the ship. I’ll get the kid.”

  “Or—and I’m just kind of brainstorming here—we could leave the spoiled rich kid and just fly away to someplace that isn’t exploding everywhere.”

  And there was the mercenary mindset. “We’re here to rescue him.”

  “Just tell them you tried. I’ll back you up.”

  “I have to save them!” Cason snapped.

  “Them?” she asked. “Ah. I get it. You’re not really here for him, are you?”

  “Just go find a ship,” Cason said. “I’ll signal when we’re ready for a pickup.”

  “What about your frozen soldier?” Priscilla asked.

  “Let’s just hope he’s ready when we need him.”

  “Oh, are we calling ‘hope’ a plan now?”

  “Just go find us a ship,” Cason said.

  The smuggler gave him a mock salute and scrambled to the edge of the wall. She waited for a break in the firefight and dashed into the city. Cason watched her go. She was unbelievably fast and nimble, and he was convinced she had a better chance of succeeding in her suicide mission than he did in his.

  He peeked over the wall. The Shandorans were struggling to organize, but they were having some success. The initial shock of the attack was wearing off and what little resistance they offered was beginning to slow the invaders down. It would prolong the fighting. Not by much, but every minute they could provide a distraction would help.

  Cason pulled an earpiece from his jacket pocket and tucked it into his ear. “You there, Angel?”

  “This looks just awful,” Angel said as her optics came online.

  “It’s pretty bad. I need to find Antarius. Any thoughts?”

  Angel ticked as she processed the question and then came back with nothing. “I’m having difficulty accessing local systems. It could be all this war going on. Can you give me some more eyes?”

  Cason pulled a container full of mints from his pocket and opened the lid. The contents were half mint and half miniaturized drones that looked, smelled and, if need be, tasted an awful lot like the surrounding mints.

  He threw the contents of the container into the air and watched the mints fall back to the ground. The drones hovered for a moment and began to disperse into the city. Giving Angel access to local satellites and comms would be the ideal solution, but the drones would do in a pinch.

  “That better?” Cason asked.

  “I can’t see them,” Angel responded. There was some frustration in the program’s voice. “Whatever they’re using to jam the local systems is blocking my drones as well. I’ll have to rely on your optics. Can you get higher?”

  Cason backed away from the wall and moved through the small building behind him to emerge on the slightly safer side of the battle. From there, he could see the city’s ancient wall towering above the marketplace and just about everything else.

  “Will that do?” Cason asked.

  “It should. I need to get a view of the city and I can’t get into their satellites or my drones. Their encryption is stronger than anything Thurgood Industries currently offers.”

  That was concerning. Thurgood had the best cyber in the galaxy. If the enemy had something that could top it, it reduced the Alliance’s already dismal chances. “How screwed do you think we are?”

  The program didn’t respond right away. The ticking sound in the earpiece told him it was processing. But the ticking stopped and there still wasn’t an answer.

  “Angel?”

  “I don’t want to upset you,” Angel said with some hesitation.

  “Angel.”

  “The Alliance is in for one hell of a fight,” the program admitted.

  “That was my estimation as well,” Cason said as he looked for higher ground.

  The portion of the city in which he found himself had grown beyond the boundaries of the ancient fortifications, and Cason found his way through the maze of streets, markets and shacks until he reached the base of the 70-foot wall. He reached into his jacket once more and produced a flattened gauntlet that slipped over his wrist. The device secured itself around his wrist and he pointed it toward the wall.

  A monofilament line shot to the top of the wall and embedded itself in the centuries-old stonework. Set at the right speed, the motor would rip his arm off. That wasn’t what he needed now, and he had no desire to be dragged up the wall so he set the winch to assist his climb.

  Halfway up, Angel started to get a lay of the land. “Look behind you.”

  “I’d rather not, Angel. I’ve already had my fill of heigh
ts this week.”

  “It’s important.”

  Cason stopped climbing and looked over his shoulder, out into the Shandoran desert. Several klicks out, more enemy craft were landing and bringing more troops and heavy weaponry to bear on Kartoka.

  These landing craft were ten times the size of the infantry dropships that skimmed over the city. Their loading doors stirred up a storm of dust as they dropped open. From each craft came an assortment of vehicles and troops. Scouts piloted small, one-man speeders while larger crews rode in larger hover crafts armed with mounted squad-sized cannons.

  Armored vehicles rolled out next. Tanks and troop carriers tore the surface to shreds as massive wheels and treads propelled them forward. Mechs three times the size of a man walked beside each infantry carrier. Each one was bristling with rocket pods and auto cannons in addition to the massive rifle they each held in their hands.

  Cason processed everything he was seeing and came to one conclusion. “This planet is so screwed.”

  The largest ship to enter the atmosphere deployed what could only be described as a giant block. The craft had come in as if to land, but then fired up its engines and took off after depositing a large part of itself on the sands.

  It was the most ominous block Cason had ever seen. “What is that thing, Angel?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s big enough to house a garrison. Maybe some kind of command center? Living quarters for the occupation forces? I’m just spit-balling here.”

  An arm rose up from the block. That arm then sprouted a hand, which turned into a fist and drove itself into the ground. The wall shook as the impact of the blow reached out to them from across the desert. Another arm unfolded on the other side of the object, and the giant block did a pushup. Once the arms were extended and the shoulders were defined, a head appeared. Then knees and legs unfolded from the underside of the block. Another tremor hit the wall as the feet planted themselves firmly in the ground and the block began to stand.

  A thousand panels on the block spun and whirred, revealing a whole new level of detail on the machine, until it was a massive android standing more than 100 feet tall over Kartoka. Its operational purpose aside, it was designed as a form of psychological warfare to intimidate and frighten anyone who would dare oppose it. And it was working.

  “Does Vides have anything like that?” Cason asked.

  “The Alliance has a lot of catching up to do.”

  For the moment, the machine just stood there making everything else look small.

  Cason turned his attention back to the wall. He resumed the climb and made the lip of the barrier in a matter of minutes. He pulled himself over the edge, drew his pistol and assessed the threats. The few sentries that were on the wall understandably had their attention focused on the battle inside the city and what was now a giant in the distance.

  He crouched behind the wall so as not to distract them and scanned the interior of the city.

  The battle wasn’t going any better for the Shandorans inside the walls than it was outside. They had the invaders outnumbered for the moment, but their soldiers were no match for the enemy forces.

  A roar and a grunt caught his attention deeper in the city streets. Several Shandorans rode what he could only describe as a giant armored pig into one of the open squares. Firing from the back of the beast, the small contingent of soldiers actually succeeded in driving back a unit of enemy forces and held them at bay.

  The pig’s downfall came from behind as a mob of Shandorans, who appeared to be nothing more than enraged citizens, stormed the pig. They vaulted over one another onto the creature’s back and attacked the Shandoran soldiers mounted on top. The citizenry was turning on their own.

  Priscilla may have been right after all. Even in the face of great evil, some would see an option they’d never had as a better alternative. Cason wasn’t just watching the conquering of a city. He was watching the downfall of an entire planet. And its people were cheering it on and taking part in its demise. Shandor wasn’t just lost; it was fighting itself for the privilege of being overthrown. How many worlds would follow?

  He shook the horrific thought from his head. That wasn’t his concern right now. He had to focus on the task at hand. He had to get the kid and get off the planet. “Are you seeing anything, Angel?”

  “This is better,” Angel said.

  Cason scanned the entire city, giving the computer a chance to map the environment and enough information to start making some educated guesses.

  “The palace,” Angel suggested. “Up in the tower.”

  Cason located the palace and spotted the tower.

  “The tower?”

  “Traditionally, political prisoners are kept in the palace tower. 63% of all known cultural histories share this tradition.”

  “I get it,” Cason said. “But this isn’t a fairy tale with the evil queen holed up in the castle. This is an advanced civilization.”

  “They just rode a pig into battle,” Angel said.

  “Fair enough,” Cason said. “So, we’re storming the castle?”

  “It looks that way.”

  Cason stood up and started running. He kept an eye on the nearest sniper nest and chanted under his breath, “Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up,” over and over, only to swear when the spotter saw him coming.

  The element of surprise was his for only a second longer. And that wouldn’t be enough time to explain that he wasn’t with the invading army. Any attempt to explain would fall on deaf ears and itchy trigger fingers, so he sprang into the nest and tackled the alien that had spotted him.

  The Shandorans were tall but weighed next to nothing, and the tackle drove them both into a wooden post that supported the canopy above the sniper nest. The spotter went limp immediately.

  The sniper turned toward the commotion and started bringing the rifle to bear on Maze.

  Cason grabbed the barrel in his left hand and twisted it out of the sniper’s grip. At the same time he caught the sniper in the jaw with a right hook. The rifleman dropped to the ground unconscious, or possibly dead. With one hit? That was a new record.

  Cason dropped to his knees and propped the sniper rifle up on the edge of the wall. He pointed the barrel at the next sniper nest along his route.

  “Angel?”

  “Up a little,” she said. “Now to the right a touch. No, too far. Okay. Breathe out and squeeze.”

  The shot dropped the target and with Angel’s help, Cason eliminated the snipers, sentries and other guards along the wall. He left the rifle on the ground and resumed his race toward the palace.

  A tremendous stomp sent another tremor through the wall, and Cason turned to see that the giant machine had taken a step.

  “Did that thing just move?”

  “Apparently.” Angel sounded just as surprised.

  A monster that size needed only to stand there to subdue a populace. That it moved meant it was more than a symbolic threat. It was an armed behemoth.

  The Shandoran Air Force arrived with the thunderous roar of jets. It was an antiquated form of powered flight, but the pilots courageously steered directly toward the menacing figure standing over their capital. The machine unleashed a blistering air defense. Flak and rocket explosions filled the air. All of the crashing that followed only intensified the insanity on the ground.

  “Duck!”

  Having Angel engaged was like having eyes in the back of his head. Cason slid to the ground as one of the Air Force jets screamed overhead on its way to crash into the palace. He recovered and watched as the fighter turned the stone palace wall into dust, smoke and fire. “That was a little too close, Angel.”

  “Sorry. Without full access to local systems I’m afraid too close is as good as you’re going to get. If it helps, you’re almost there.”

  Cason got back to his feet and started moving once more. He was close. Barring any more planes exploding around him, the entrance would be just around the next corner.

&nb
sp; He was almost there when a guard stepped out to meet him. The Shandoran pointed a rifle at Cason’s chest and began shouting in his native language.

  “He says ‘halt,’” Angel said in his ear.

  “Yeah, I got that,” Cason snapped as he raised his hands.

  “Oh, you suddenly speak Shandoran?” Angel asked.

  The guard was animated as he shouted more orders.

  “What did he say?” Cason asked.

  “Oh, you mean you don’t know?” Angel asked.

  “This isn’t the time, Angel.”

  The computer translated the phrase to Shandoran and Cason repeated it to the guard.

  The man responded by holding the gun up higher and shouting louder.

  “How do I say he needs to go? Go be with his family. They need him.”

  Angel translated this as well and Maze butchered the accent.

  There was more pointing of the gun and shouting of nonsense. But it came slower this time. There was less conviction behind the threatening motions.

  Cason repeated the phrase in Shandoran.

  The guard listened, stopped shouting and lowered the rifle barrel.

  “How do I say I’m here for my family, too. I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

  “So, we’re not going to mention the five you just assassinated?” Angel asked.

  “I don’t think we should.”

  Angel translated the message, Cason relayed it and the guard nodded. He gave Cason a second look before stepping away from the door and his duty. He disappeared somewhere inside the palace.

  “I can’t believe that worked,” Angel said.

  “Everyone has a family,” Cason replied as he lowered his hands. He moved slowly to the doorway and glanced inside. He could hear fighting somewhere in the palace, but the immediate coast was clear.

  Angel guided him through the corridors as best she could. Her algorithms and extensive records of alien architecture made her guesses several degrees better-educated than his. The path took him several stories above a courtyard where he could hear fighting below. He looked over the railing.

  A group of Shandoran females were holding their own against the invaders. The women were dressed in ceremonial garb but still managed to make short work of the armored intruders.