Victory's Defeat

by Mark Tufo

  “These are all true statements,” Parendall said. “Yet the fact remains that we need those things and we will do our best to obtain them, with or without your assistance.”

  “You will die.”

  “I am not afraid of dying, Third Officer Jaudent. I am afraid of living without freedom. I will do all in my power to establish that for my friends and for those I care for. We wish nothing more than to get what we need and leave this planet; you will not stop us. If you wish, we can kill you quickly or tie you up to wait out the elements, starvation, or maybe a predator.”

  “I will assist; though I will only do so because I know your final destination is FreeTown and I will make sure that every ship on this side of the galaxy pursues you.”

  “That is nothing new. We welcome your assistance. Come Ziva, put up your rifle. We have a driver.”

  Ten minutes later they had the heavy machinery out of the truck and on the ground and were on their way.

  “What will you tell those that we encounter?” Parendall asked as they set off.

  “What I need to. That these two Genogerians are assisting me with my machinery.”

  “That should be adequate,” Parendall said after reflecting on it.

  “It will be best if neither of you speak when we are approached.”

  “I have been under your yoke for years; I know how to act around your kind.”

  “You say that as if we are the enemy. We have bettered your lives immeasurably, yet here you are, after killing my fourth officer and threatening to do the same to me.”

  “Bettered our lives? How? By fighting your war? We die by the thousands while you ship us from war zone to war zone with no more consideration for our lives than the insects we kill.”

  “It is your privilege to serve for us.”

  “Not my privilege,” Ziva said. “You are welcome to my spot if you want to be privileged; it’s really not that great a spot to be in, whatever you’ve heard.”

  The mood in the transport grew tense as the lights of the base became visible in the distance.

  “Remember Jaudent, we get what we want and by tomorrow night we are gone and you can hunt us down for all eternity.”

  “I plan on doing just that.” His hands gripped the controls tighter in anger.

  There was no need for security on a planet that housed only military personnel. Jaudent drove the truck to the provisions warehouse.

  After a half an hour of loading, Ziva turned to Parendall. “I think maybe I should have kept an eye on the Progerian while you packed.”

  “If you remember correctly Ziva, I never told you to do it. Once you started I didn’t feel the need to tell you to stop. We need power cells now, Jaudent.”

  “Those won’t be as easy. They are housed in the workshop and the second officer there is going to want to know why we are taking them.”

  Parendall thought for a moment. “Does this second officer know anything about the system you were supposed to install today?”

  “I very much doubt it. It is extremely new; I have just been trained on it.”

  “Then he will have no reason to know what powers it,” Parendall said.

  “Of course he doesn’t. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It seems our Progerian friend isn’t as smart as us lowly Genogerians,” Ziva said with a smile, understanding what Parendall was saying.

  “It is not that, my friend. He is just not very astute in subterfuge. When one lives at the top he has no need to be anything but upfront. It is us bottom dwellers that must, beg, borrow and steal that which we need.”

  “What are you barbarians saying?” Jaudent asked.

  Parendall spun quickly. “If you use one more derogatory term to address either myself or my friend, I will gut you like a fish and let your insides unravel on the ground. How’s that for barbaric?”

  Jaudent’s nostrils flared, two heavy chuffs escaped from his mouth. He was on the verge of doing what he could to extradite himself from the situation he was in. He relented when Ziva’s rifle pressed up against his side.

  “You would be wise to realize that Parendall is the civilized one amongst us. I would gladly ventilate your system.”

  “I will refrain from insulting you while we are in proximity,” Jaudent said.

  “I guess that is something,” Parendall said.

  They crossed the compound in the transport and were at the doors to an enormous ship hangar. Activity was high as mechanics repaired or rebuilt various parts to the many machines housed there.

  “Do not stare with such wide-eyed wonder, Ziva, you will draw attention,” Parendall said.

  “There are so many ships here, it seems that it would be easier to just take one of these.” He replied.

  “You would not make it a mile before you were tracked and shot down,” Jaudent informed them without a hint of malice, he was merely relating the facts of the situation.

  “That would not work out very well for us,” Parendall said.

  “The power cells are in that room.” Jaudent pointed to the far corner. “You will need something to place them on, as they are very heavy.”

  “Why don’t you do something for a change?” Ziva said to him.

  “Ziva,” Parendall berated him. “We would be less conspicuous stealing a ship and trying to escape than to have a Progerian work with two Genogerians standing next to him watching.”

  “Forgive me, Parendall, being here amongst so many of them has me stressed.”

  “As it does me. Keep your mouth closed, and we will be out from here soon.”

  Ziva grabbed a wheeled cart and the trio walked over to the door. Ziva grabbed the handle and pulled, the door did not open and a loud buzzer rang out.

  “You there, Geno-scum! What are you doing?” A Progerian non-officer was rushing over to them.

  Ziva looked to Parendall then began to reach behind his back. Parendall imperceptibly shook his head in negation.

  “I need power cells,” Ziva replied.

  “Did I tell you to speak? I’m surprised you even know how to. It would appear that a variety of grunts from you would pass for your answer.”

  Ziva growled, loud enough that the officer heard.

  “They are with me,” Jaudent spoke. “I have been installing an array out at the Betreden Valley and we are in need of more power cells.”

  “Third Officer Jaudent, I did not see you behind the brute. You of all officers should know the power cells are monitored. If they are not handled responsibly they can be quite volatile.”

  “That is not usual for me to forget such a thing. I even sat in on the proper procedures class last week. I am not sure why that would have slipped my mind.” Jaudent was accentuating every word.

  Parendall shoved him hard in the side when the other officer wasn’t looking. “It would be wise of you to quickly get to the point,” Parendall whispered in Jaudent’s ear.

  “Non-Officer Frellings, I am in need of four power cells to complete the mission I was tasked with,” Jaudent said.

  “Four? You could power a good sized ship with that many.”

  “I realize this, Non-Officer; it is a very large and powerful array that we are building.”

  “I do not like this, Third Officer,” Frellings said as he keyed in a code to open the door. “I am generally notified of such large withdrawals from our stocks so that I have the opportunity to requisition more. You are in luck, though, because we had to scrap one of the shuttles from the Julipion. It suffered major damage in a battle and all that was salvageable were the power cells. I will give you those until such time as I can get new ones and then you will be able to replace them; although these are nearly new themselves so you may not need to do that.” He was guiding Ziva into the room as he spoke. “Do not drop them, oaf.”

  Ziva bristled.

  “Do as he says.” Jaudent was concerned that he and the non-officer might both get shot if the brute were to get upset.

  Ziva grunted as h
e moved the heavy cells onto the cart.

  “Look at how stupid they are, Third Officer. The big one next to you can’t even tell its friend needs help. It stands there just watching like the lazy idiot it is. I’d order him to do it, but I like this other one working hard; he looked at me rudely.”

  “Thank you for your help, Non-Officer,” Jaudent said once the cells were loaded into the transport.

  “Next time, Third Officer, I will need you to take the appropriate measures to secure provisions,” Frellings replied as he walked up to the side of the truck and was talking through the portal.

  “Perhaps next time I will not be under duress.”

  Frellings looked at him strangely; Parendall forced the barrel of his rifle into Jaudent’s thigh. Jaudent got the vehicle moving.

  “Duress was not the appropriate response, given the question,” Parendall said.

  “It was perfect, considering I was trying to notify him of my present situation,” Jaudent said back defiantly.

  “Do you not enjoy our company?” Ziva asked, a big smile upon his face.

  “I think that maybe I would have been better off tied up and waiting for the predators I know, than the ones I thought were our allies.”

  “Allies?” Parendall asked. “We are not allies. Allies are friends that aid and assist each other. We are merely your equipment, to be used and disposed of when finished.”

  Jaudent wisely said nothing. It was coming up on night once again as they came over a small rise and were now heading straight for the shuttle. Parendall let out a sigh of relief when he saw Demeta come out from the hatch, a rifle in her hand. She looked suspicious until Parendall came out.

  “It is good to see you,” he told her.

  “I was growing concerned. Who is he?” she asked as Ziva escorted Jaudent from the truck.

  “This is Third Officer Jaudent,” Ziva said.

  There was a look of astonishment on the officer’s face.

  “What is the matter, Jaudent, are you having a hard time believing three primitives can fly a ship?” Parendall asked.

  “Let us go Third Officer, you are going to help me unload the cells and do not bother protesting that you are above menial tasks.” Ziva pushed the Progerian’s shoulder forward.

  “What are you going to do with him?” Demeta asked as the other two rounded the corner.

  “Let him go.”

  “He will tell them we were here.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “That is a risk we can ill afford to take, Parendall. If he dies out here, no one ever need know.”

  “I will know.”

  “Even after all this time, you value their lives?” she asked.

  “I value all lives, Demeta. Just because they are biased and misinformed does not make them evil beings. It is my hope that one day we will once again be unified.”

  “That day is not today, Parendall.”

  “Come. This should be a joyous moment. There are new power cells and plenty of food for our Drababan to eat!”

  “We will eat after the cells are in. I do not have a good feeling about this planet.”

  “Ziva, please keep an eye on our guest while Demeta and I work on replacing the cells. Have him unload the provisions.”

  “I look forward to it. Jaudent and I are becoming nearly inseparable,” Ziva said as he wrapped a large arm around the Prog’s shoulder. “Does it feel good for you to do real work, or are you sore now?” Ziva asked.

  It was over an hour later that Parendall and Demeta had the first cell replaced when Ziva called for them.

  “Something is wrong here. At first, I thought Jaudent was scanning the horizon as a way to pass the time. But he has been doing it for too long.”

  Parendall had a questioning look. It was Demeta that ran back into the ship.

  “Drones!” she shouted from inside. “They are on a searching pattern. What have you done?” Demeta asked.

  “What have I done? You have killed one of my officers, kidnapped me, stolen valuable commodities, and are all escaped war criminals. I am attempting to become a hero by having you found and executed. Bringing me into a position to accomplish that proves how stupid your race really is.”

  Ziva broke through the heavy hide on Jaudent’s face as he swung his rifle; the butt stock of his weapon caught the Progerian in the jaw. Blood sprayed away from Jaudent in an arc. He dropped to one knee, catching himself before he completely fell over.

  “How much time?” Parendall asked Demeta.

  “An hour at most—certainly not enough time to get the other cell in.”

  “Ziva, you will assist Demeta. Jaudent and I will take the transport.”

  “You mean to lure them away,” Demeta replied.

  “I do,” Parendall replied.

  “I will go with you,” Ziva said.

  “Not this time, my friend. You are needed here. I will not be gone for long.”

  Demeta placed her forehead against her mate’s. “I will make certain Drababan knows of his legacy.”

  “It was my hope we would see freedom together.”

  “My time with you, Parendall, has been among the happiest of my entire life, I have lived this freedom you spoke of; it has been real to me and I will find it for our son and our people.”

  “Who will I now take orders from?” Ziva asked.

  “I believe Demeta may be up to the task. You have been a close and valued friend. I will do my best to get back to you all.” Parendall quickly went into the ship to say goodbye to his slumbering son. Drababan’s eyes shone in the dark as he watched his sire approach.

  “You know,” Parendall said as he placed his head against his son’s. “I do this for you, I do this for your mother, for my friend, and for all Genogerians that wish their freedom. You cannot possibly understand that now but you will, my son. We will meet again little one, for else what would be the purpose?” And with that, he left.

  “Tie him up,” Parendall said to Ziva, “and put him in the back. Demeta, I will need a quick lesson on how to operate this.”

  After a few minutes, he felt sufficiently proficient to drive. Jaudent was bound up tight and sitting in the back. “I relish the moment they catch you when you know that your mate, friend, and child are also caught. I will request that they are executed first. Perhaps then I will have them send you to the slave camps in Beredine. I am told it is so cold there that exposed body parts break off. I may even visit you from time to time to check on your level of suffering.” Blood poured from the damaged side of his face.

  “What makes you think either of us is going to live through the day?” Parendall had turned to look over his shoulder. “Perhaps because you have never been at the front, you do not understand. So I will tell you. Drones do not seek and capture, they destroy outright. Once I get far enough away from the shuttle I am going to drive right into their search grid, luring them as far away from those I love as possible. It won’t be too far, because your technology is indeed daunting, but it should be far enough that Demeta can get the other fuel cell in place and make good her escape. You and I by then will be burnt, smoking hulks of our former selves. The scavengers will dine on our charred flesh. By morning no one will be able to tell, nor care that one was a Genogerian and the other a Progerian. I hope you did not expect to be rewarded for your bravery, such as it was.”

  “You cannot do this! I demand that you bring me back to the station!”

  “And what? Turn myself in?”

  “The others will be safe by then, at least.”

  “Perhaps my Demeta was right, it is best that we do not leave witnesses behind.”

  “I will strike a bargain with you. Your death will be quick—merciful even—and I will not discuss what else I saw here.”

  “You would tell falsehoods to your superiors? Do you not value your morals?”

  “I value my life more.”

  “It would be wise that you should. But I know your kind too well, Third Officer. It is much more lik
ely that you are lying to me to save your own skin than you would tell the smallest falsehood to your superiors. No, Jaudent, the time for trust and negotiation between you and I is long past.”

  They drove in silence for a while. Jaudent struggled against bonds that only got tighter as he did so.

  “I would suggest you stop trying to get out. We perfected those restraints. The more you fight against them the tighter they will get. A point will come where various parts of your body will begin to lose circulation, discolor, and die as you gaze upon them in horror. It was a very effective means of interrogation when we dealt with enemies of the Progerians. Not necessarily Genogerian enemies…but since you placed us into their path we inherited their hatred and had to fight to save our own lives.”

  “We should have eradicated your kind!” Jaudent spat.

  “If we had known how your race would twist our relationship, we may have welcomed that,” Parendall said just as he made the transport shoot forward. “We have been spotted.”

  “Untie me, Parendall! I can call them off!” Jaudent begged.

  “You choose now to use my name? I find that disturbing in some aspects.” The transport was jostling around so violently that Jaudent was completely bouncing off his seat from time to time.

  “They will kill us, you fool!”

  “That is the plan, and thank you so much for putting that into play, by the way. Though it is not ideal, by any means, it is my hope at that point they will go back to their stations.”

  “I can save us.”

  “I have heard your words; they did not produce a satisfactory conclusion for me.”

  “For neither of us. There is a cave system out here.”

  “My attention is slightly diverted your way. Speak quickly—the flying machine is rapidly approaching.”

  “Help me sit up.”

  Parendall reached back and helped the Progerian up. Jaudent scanned the area. “To the left—those mountains in the distance—there is a large cave system there.”

  “That is the direction the drone has come from,” Parendall informed him.

  “Then we will…get past it. There are defensive measures on this transport. If you untie me I will help.”

  “This is truth?” Parendall stopped so he could look the other in the eye.