He looked pale and frightened. “The one warrior we do not want to face as a people. He may just kill all of us.”
---
The human ships herded the escape pods down onto Winged Freedom, a world where humans would struggle to live with high gravity and low oxygen. The Gilbaglians could barely exist there at all, and with a battalion of what Warklis called “night stalkers” on the planet, it was even less hospitable.
“We will not surrender!” Warklis was shouting at her crew. He obviously didn’t realize that the remaining crew of the stricken Vixtor were not combat soldiers, they were engineers and ship operators. “You must not let the humans control the tempo of the actions.”
“Commander,” Sparklia said with distain. “We have four rifles and swords. If what you say is true, there are one hundred thousand human soldiers down there looking for a fight.”
“And a while planet for us to evade them.”
She’d had enough. As soon as the escape pod slammed into the white and red surface of Winged Freedom, she made a point of her sword “slipping” from its sheath. It split Warklis’s throat and sent blue-black Gilbaglian blood all over the interior of the escape pod.
She spat on his unmoving form and was about to speak when the escape pod door was ripped off its hinges by an explosion. A human in armor poked its head into the compartment, and the visor turned from black to clear. She got her first real look at a human being and was terrified at the odd face and angular features. Warklis had clearly been wrong about how weak they were; when one of her Lieutenants threw himself at the invader, the human grabbed him by the throat and broke his neck, turning his head nearly completely around.
Sparklia did the only thing she could think of at that moment and raised her hands.
---
The human was named “Gavin” and it had a translation device. He told her that he was the commander on the scene and was not authorized to accept surrenders. Sparklia was the only survivor, she had been spared while the human soldiers relentlessly slaughtered her bridge crew. Solaris had informed her that their genocide was going to stop here and now, and then promptly thrown her into one of the Gilbaglian’s own prison cells and left her there.
She could only hope that she would not die on this godforsaken planet with these evil humans.
“Captain?” A voice from the cell next to hers.
Her head popped up and she squinted into the darkness, the humans had deactivated the lights. “Zelxiea?” Sparklia gasped in surprise.
“Yes, Captain.”
“They told me they had killed everyone else.” Sparklia was overjoyed to know that even if it was only one of her people, the humans had not left her completely alone.
“They told me the same thing, but I did not witness anyone who surrendered die by human hands.” Zelxiea was a junior Ensign in the fleet, fresh and very young, but they had left her alive and for some reason had left her alive next to Sparklia.
The Captain squinted into the darkness. Gilbaglian eyes were not well-suited to darkness, as they had evolved on a world that had two suns and had very abundant light and very low gravity. She did not see the lights of recording devices and decided the humans must not have had time to install any such devices.
“Zelxiea, do you know where we are?”
“No, Captain, I was not awake after the humans used stun grenades on us. I don’t even understand this action.” The Ensign replied.
Sparklia paused. “What do you mean, Ensign? You did not learn from the histories?”
“Captain, that was not part of my studies at the academy. I am only in my third year.” The young Ensign sounded sheepish and saddened by her own lack of knowledge. Sparklia had been a ship’s Captain now for thirty-seven years and had access to the depth of Gilbaglian knowledge for most of that time. A third-year student assigned to a ship for valuable experience would not have access to any such knowledge.
Sparklia grunted in pain as she leaned back against the hard cell wall. “Well, Ensign, since we have time…please rest yourself and listen to the tale of the Gilbaglian wars.”
---
Sixth Age of Flight
Gilbaglia, Gemini Sector of the Human star map.
Sixteen million years ago
“What is that?!” Quixlisea gasped, staring through the telescope at the massive space ship in orbit of Gilbaglia. The avian race had never seen a vehicle such as the one they watched floating overhead, that looked down on them. It was in a very high orbit and had not attempted to make contact nor had it done anything hostile.
“Should…we attempt to contact it, Captain?” Her aide asked. A young male, barely worthy of her attention.
“Of course, we should not!” Quixlisea cried in response, pulling her cellular phone from her tunic pocket and dialing her commanding officer.
“Umelzixa.” Came the prompt reply.
“Colonel!” The Captain cried into the phone. “There is a hostile alien ship overhead!”
“Has it fired on us?” Quixlisea paused and glared daggers at her aide, who looked stricken. The Alien ship had done nothing hostile, nothing interesting. It just was there.
“It is moving into position to strike Gilba.” She lied, citing the name of the largest city on Gilbaglia. “We must strike first!”
There was a pause. “Very well, we are authorizing a nuclear strike now. Prepare your soldiers!”
The Colonel cut off, and Quixlisea smiled grimly. No alien invasions for today, she decided. She watched as the alien ship began to move away from the planet, but it hadn’t moved fast enough. Twenty nuclear warheads streaked towards the ship and struck it hard. The vessel obviously had some kind of energy shields, and they flickered and gave out, striking the hull and making mushroom blossoms on the hull. The stricken ship spun back towards the planet and began to enter the atmosphere, heating up on its prow.
“After them!” Quixlisea shouted. “Rally our soldiers!”
The Gilbaglian armed forces arrived at the scene of the crash ten hours later, finding the enemy ship burning. Thousands of the creatures inside were milling around outside, looking like they were trying to repair their space craft. The Gilbaglian airships touched down and thousands of armed soldiers poured out, advancing on the aliens, who looked surprised.
Quixlisea spoke into a voice amplifier at the aliens. “We are the Gilbaglians. Your intrusion into our star system was an act of war, and we will not tolerate your violent actions!”
One of the aliens walked forward with its hands raised, one hand wrapped around some kind of device, and spoke: “There has been a grave misunderstanding, good people. We are explorers from a distant galaxy. We meant no harm.”
“Who are you?” Quixlisea demanded.
“We are called Cetoplin.” The alien said, a smile splitting its strange face. “What are your people called?”
“Your enemy.” She replied and depressed a button on her console. A rocket propelled grenade shot from the belly of the transport and impacted the Cetoplin monster directly in the center of the creature’s chest. The Cetoplin disappeared in a flash of misty red blood and spray.
“Kill them all!” Quixlisea ordered, and her soldiers opened fire, killing dozens of the Cetoplin in the first moments, even though the small pinkish aliens were holding up their arms in surrender.
“Captain,” Someone said. “This is a slaughter.”
She turned in her seat and snapped her beak at him, a vile gesture that was meant for the vilest cur in the Gilbaglian Empire. “What of it?” She spat at him.
“Captain, these enemies are surrendering. We should accept their surrender.”
“They are invading aliens.” She said, drawing her pistol. “And they must be crushed quickly to prevent any threat to our people. She shot the offending male and turned back to her duties, using her airship’s powerful weapons to mow down the ugly little pink aliens. When they were all dead, she could take their ship and the Gilbaglian people would be able to build a star s
hip, if they could reverse-engineer their technology. Truly, this was a joyous day for all.
---
First Age of Exploration
Black Hole Corridor, uncharted space, edge of the Milky Way galaxy
Ten thousand years ago
The Gilbaglian ships were approaching faster and faster as the Cetoplin worked desperately to close the corridor that led out of the galaxy. The Gilbaglian ships were reverse-engineered from Cetoplin designs and the advanced aliens now had no real defense from the avians that were steadily growing more blood thirsty and angry.
“Shipmaster,” The first class spoke softly at his commanding officer. “We have made progress, but we are not going to be able to close the corridor before the avians arrive.”
The shipmaster bowed his head slightly. “What of our seeded planet?”
Consulting his cranial implant briefly, the first class replied, “They have entered a pre-industrial bronze age, shipmaster. They will be ready to defend themselves within five thousand years.”
The shipmaster sighed. “Then all is not yet lost.” He said bracing his arms on the edge of the viewscreen. “Detonate the weapons at the threshold.”
“Sir!?” The first class cried in alarm. “We and the others would be trapped here!”
“Yes,” The Cetoplin leader agreed. “And the others would be safe from these avians.”
“Sirs!” The third class shouted from the control display. “Ship coming through!”
“Hold the weapons,” The shipmaster replied, standing straighter. “What ship?”
“Its…a Meyges ship, sir!”
The shipmaster fairly slumped to the deck in relief. The Meyges, one of the oldest allies of the Cetoplin, had been the first species of their galaxy that united against the strife that had littered their galaxy for a million generations. Together, the Meyges and Cetoplin had fostered a peace in the galaxy that had now lasted almost ten million years.
“They are hailing us, sir!” The third class called.
“On the screen.”
The red skinned, red-horned alien appeared on the screen, a grim look on its face. “Shipmaster, we have come to assist you in closing the corridor.”
“Thank you, Premier.” The shipmaster replied. “The aliens are arriving soon. We were planning to remain behind to fight them.”
The Premier looked stricken. “My friend,” He said, without a lie. The shipmaster of the Cetoplin, the highest-ranking leader in their forces, and the Premier of the Meyges were close friends and allies, had been for over a million years. Both species were exceptionally long-lived. They stared at each other sadly for a long moment. “The council has…broken the alliance.”
The shipmaster gripped his chest as though his three hearts were having attacks at once. “They have what?” He gasped.
“The Meyges will continue through time alone without the Cetoplin.” He said sadly. “The Blutencer and Undulon have raised strict objections, but there is little more to be done at this time. “I cannot help you more than bringing my own personal ships through to help you.”
Four Mayges ships came through the corridor and formed up around the Premier’s ship and held position. The shipmaster was pleased to see that the ships his friend had brought were all heavy battleships and would be able to fight the Gilbaglians for some time until they managed to close the corridor.
“Thank you,” Shipmaster said. “We will prepare to close the corridor.”
The Meyges frowned deeply. “I cannot allow you to do that,” He said, and to the Shipmaster’s dismay, the battleships turned to engage his own small battered fleet. “We will be returning after we destroy the species you wrongly seeded against the accords.”
The shipmaster stared and his mouth hung open, his gills moving to extract oxygen from the air as well as his lungs. He didn’t know what to say, and all he could do was stare as his fleet opened fire on the Meyges ships. A galaxy that had been at peace for millions of years had just broken the peace accords.
He turned from the display, pain in his heart and tears streaming from his eyes, and looked at his first class, who was also beginning to cry.
“Destroy them if we are able.” He said. “And close the corridor.”
“Their battleships are strong, but our fleet is mighty.” The first class said in a hushed tone. “What will we do, sir?”
“We will find a planet and live our lives there.” He replied. “We must not interfere more than we have.”
“I understand, sir.” The first class bowed. “I will notify you when the corridor is closed.”
Four hours later, the Meyges ships had been destroyed and the corridor had been sealed, but not closed. The corridor of gravity wells that made hyperspeed transition between galaxies possible had been set on a delay that would not allow the corridor to open until proper access codes had been given.
The shipmaster had been forced to kill his oldest friend in a time of betrayal, and the last of the Cetoplin would have to live out their existence on a desolate world near the corridor.
“Sir.” Came the first class. “We are ready to depart. We have made certain that no survivors exist on this side of the corridor, sir.”
Shipmaster nodded. “Thank you, first class. We will depart at once.”
He took one last long look at the atomized cloud of particles that had once been a battle group of mighty Meyges battleships and shook his head in deep sadness.
“Perhaps, sir,” The first class said. “We will live long enough to see the seed world evolve.”
The shipmaster considered. Cetoplin could live for many millions of years with proper access to their own medical facilities, but he was uncertain of what his crews could build on an uninhabited planet, far from their own scientists and doctors. “Perhaps, indeed, first class.” He said, then sank back into his command chair.
---
Manufacturing world “Winged Freedom”
Present Day
The young Ensign stared up at the Captain in awe. “So, we managed to push the invaders back and created a civil war between them?” She asked.
“Yes,” Sparklia replied, her throat feeling dry. She wished longingly for a long drink to quell her thirst. “And we have been hunting for them and a way to open the corridor and meet the Meyges.”
“It’s funny,” Came a horrid human voice from outside of Sparklia’s cell. “The Cetoplin managed to stop you, you never did manage to defeat humanity, and now here we are, in your system.”
Sparklia’s head snapped around and looked the human. He was younger than the one Warklis had warned her about, and he was not the black-skinned human that had captured them. This one wore a Lieutenant’s stripe.
“Release us!” She roared at the human.
He chuckled. “No.”
Sparklia stared at him in surprise. “No human can hold a Gilbaglian!” She said, flecks of spittle flying from her beak.
“It would seem you’re wrong about that.” The human replied, smiling.
“Who are you?” The Ensign asked.
“I am Lieutenant Gavin Antillon.” He said with a smile in her direction. “160th Night Stalkers, Delta company, Human Allied Armed forces.”
Sparklia leaned against the bars and screamed at him, loud and long, a warrior’s cry. The human stared at her for a moment, then jammed something against her ribs and Sparklia found herself riding a bolt of lightning backwards to crash into the cell wall behind her.
“Be quiet.” The human said. “You birds are very annoying when you get loud.”
“What about our people?” The Ensign asked quietly.
“Most of them are dying.” Antillon replied curtly. “The only real resistance is a few hundred miles away on the other side of the planet, our alpha company is engaged with them. But your shipyard facilities, your foundries, and your raw processors are under our control. Its just your barracks.”
Sparklia groaned and then got shocked again.
“I said be quiet.” Ant
illon said. “Now that we know the true story about the Cetoplin, we can find them. He smiled. Sparklia felt her blood run cold.
Chapter Ten
---
Manufacturing planet “Winged Freedom”
Army barracks
The staccato crackle of automatic weapons fire was only broken by the occasional explosion, and the odd screeching of the Gilbaglian energy weapons. Another explosion sounded too close to my position and I turned my head, feeling grit and gravel ping off my helmet.
I raised my sniper rifle and sighted, spotting one of the huge looming Gilbaglians that had been created from our genes. I squeezed the trigger and watched the head of the creature snap back with a massive spray of arterial blood. They weren’t quite so tough without most of their brain matter.
I cycled the bolt on the big rifle and sighted once more, finding an officer pointing and trying to organize a charge. Second platoon was on my right, flanking around the Gilbaglian defenders, already down eight men. A brass shell casing bounced off my helmet and I blinked once quickly, regained my focus, and squeezed the trigger on the Gilbaglian officer.
I heard running footsteps and lifted my head to see a Gilbaglian soldier rushing my position. With a soft sigh, I simply watched him come towards me, holding a saber high over his head and warbling at me in their strange, screeching language. He had a wild look in his eyes, doubtless knowing that his people were losing the battle.
I blinked once, activating an icon on my helmet’s HUD.
The ring of mines I’d placed around my position exploded, splashing green-blue blood all over my visor. Gross.
“Colonel,” Came a voice over my comm. I glanced over to see a Sergeant slide into position next to me. Her voice was calm and measured. “Sir.”
“Yes?” I asked calmly, cycling my bolt open and pushing more shells into the chamber. Locking the bolt closed with a metallic snap, I sighted and fired on another Gilbaglian officer, and chuckled to myself. That made nine of the fifteen officers I’d personally executed.
“Sir, the other companies have completed their objectives.” She said, poking her rifle up and firing on another charging Gilbaglian. I was laying more or less in the open, prone with my rifle propped up on a muddy berm. “Delta company reports that they have the Captain of that Gilbaglian ship, sir.”
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