Backlash Rising

by Brandon Ellis

  “I’m a doctor, let me through,” barked William.

  The Marines parted, keeping their eyes and rifles on the Space Templars.

  “Move, move.” Hank’s big body squeezed past the guards. He halted when he saw Wrench and Diana on the ground, his face going pale. “Oh, my Guild. Wrench?”

  William rushed past Hank and went to one knee beside the two dead bodies, feeling for pulses.

  Hank put his hand to his mouth, his voice hushed. “Did you—”

  “No,” said Eden. “We’d never do such a thing.”

  “Sleuth,” muttered Hank, moving forward and into the quarters. He sat at Diana’s desk and cracked his knuckles. His mouth downturned, he cursed under his breath, muttering Sleuth’s name several times.

  Nyx turned and smirked at the Sirona Guards. “Looks like we have an old standoff here, ladies and gentlemen. Who will pull the trigger first?”

  “Nyx,” said Skye. “Don’t provoke them.”

  Nyx frowned. “Oh, but it’s so fun. These poor guards don’t have a chance.”

  Hank held up his hand, his voice booming into the corridor. “Listen up. Don’t interrupt the HDC guru while I’m figuring shit out. Sleuth hacked the crap out of Sirona’s system, and the maestro—me—needs quiet time to work.”

  Eden nodded at the soldier in front of her. “Don’t talk, everyone. He’ll lift the window armor soon.”

  The ship shuddered.

  “That’s odd,” Hank said softly, “even the captain’s HDC has been locked out of all functions on this ship.” He moved his fingers quickly on the holokeypad as if conducting an orchestra. “That’s easy to fix. You just need some Hank love and then whamo.” He pressed several more buttons on the keypad and nodded to himself. “Yep, you just hack into Sleuth’s HDC, change the code, just like that.” He continued muttering and typing at the same time. “And now you have all the systems unlocked and bam.” He frowned. “Well, all except engines. That will take me a while.”

  The armor moved upward, lifting from the windows. Sunset glowed across the sky, and shadows stretched on the ebb rock outside. The sound from outside grew louder, as an even bigger shadow coming into view. The Space Templars and the Sirona Guard, forgetting their standoff, peered through the windows.

  “It’s the weapon,” said Skye. “It’s here.”

  Wilcox’s eyes hardened. “Tell me everything you know.”

  Skye dipped his head, his voice calm. “A weapon of mass destruction, and it’ll be here soon. It’s no doubt geared to destroy the ship and all inhabitants. This is not a joke. Get your men and women off this ship, and now.”

  “Off this ship?” countered Wilcox. “We leave this ship, we die. We can’t breathe out there.”

  Skye stood straight, his eyes set on the guards in front of him. “Space Templars, suck up your egos. It’s time to use our shields.” Skye and the rest of the Space Templars raised their arms. Shields materialized from their wrist bands. The soldiers stiffened, their weapons pointed on the Templars. Skye glanced over his shoulder. “Jantu.”

  Jantu nodded and turned to face the windows. He pressed his rifle’s trigger several times, sending blasts of plasma bolts into the handful of windows and shattering them. A few bullets cracked from the Matrona Guard’s own rifles and were absorbed into the shields.

  “Stand down,” yelled Wilcox.

  A breeze came in, and the weapon outside was now louder. The guards shuffled on their feet, a few covering their mouths and holding their breath. Another guard took a shot at the Templars. The bullet sizzled as it slammed into a Templar’s shield.

  “Space Templars,” shouted Skye. “Do not return fire.”

  “Cease fire,” yelled Wilcox, his weapon lowered, his body facing the broken windows. He sniffed, taking in a breath. “What the hell?”

  “Guys,” interrupted Hank. “A woman named S is typing on my screen, telling me we need to evacuate immediately. The weapon is almost in position, and we won’t survive.”

  Skye and Nyx stiffened. Nyx turned her head. “Did you say S? Sabra?”

  “Just S. I don’t know a Sabra,” said Hank.

  “How much time did she say we have?” asked Skye.

  “She didn’t give a time. She’s off the screen now.” Hank stood and pulled William away from the captain. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Hank,” said Skye, “can you let everyone on the starship know they need to evacuate the ship immediately?”

  Wilcox moved away from the window. “Everyone, sound the alarm, and get as many people off this ship as you can.” The guards turned and rushed down the hall, disappearing around a corridor corner.

  Hank sat at Diana’s desk again, bringing up the holodisplay. “Commlink on. Patch me to all speakers on the starship.” He looked at Skye. “What do you want me to say?”

  Skye nodded at Nyx. She turned and rushed into Diana’s room and stopped at Hank's side. “Move.”

  Hank stood quickly, his hands up. “All right, all right.”

  Nyx sat. She pressed her lips against the com, and in a perfect impression and with the same pitch as Diana’s voice, she spoke. “Attention, this is Captain Diana Johnson. This is not a drill. A weapon of mass destruction is at our doorstep. We are evacuating the ship. I repeat we are evacuating the ship.” She put her hand on the com, her tone hushed. “Is Swift on her way, Eden.”

  Eden closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hands warmed, and the Sight activated. A sensation, like a pull, tugged at her heart. An image popped in her head, one of Swift flying through the clouds, heading their way. Eden opened her eyes. “Yes, Swift will be here soon.”

  Nyx’s expression lightened. “Good job, Eden.” She pressed her lips into the mic again. “You are to board another starship which will be landing beside us soon. It has been a lie that Eos doesn’t have a breathable atmosphere. You can breathe Eos’s air. Question nothing until we are all safe. You question and you hold up the entire evacuation process. This is not a drill. Begin evacuation now.”

  Hank pursed his lips. “I've always wanted to do this.” He pressed a button on the HDC. Alarms blared throughout the ship. “Time to evacuate.”

  32

  Ali

  Dirn Garum, Eos

  Ali smiled, thinking of her father. She remembered a time as a kid, chasing grasshoppers with him. Shae had winked at her. “You catch five and I’ll buy you a lollipop. If you don’t catch five, then you owe me a lollipop, okay?”

  Ali wrinkled her nose, laughing. “I don’t have money to buy you a lollipop.” The one time she lost, and she hadn’t grabbed the allotted number of grasshoppers her dad assigned, she cried. She didn’t want to disappoint her father for failing her mission.

  He sat with her, holding her in his arms. “You know this isn’t working.”

  Ali leaned away from him, eyeing his brown eyes. “What daddy? What’s not working?” She sniffed.

  He touched the tip of her nose. “You know, this crying.”

  She wiped a tear. “But—”

  He snickered, grinning widely. “You still owe me a lollipop. This crying won’t get you out of it. Now, how are you going to get the money to buy it?”

  They sat on their farmhouse porch. She sniffed again and wiped more tears. She looked around, and her eyes landed on rows and rows of cabbage. “I’ll pull the weeds around the cabbage for fifty cents.”

  He held up his index finger. “Twenty cents for one hour.”

  She stood and held out her hand, something she’d seen her father do with other farmers and businessmen on countless occasions.

  He shook her hand. “Deal?”

  Ali shook his hand harder. “Deal.”

  Like that day, Ali would have to do the work to get herself out of here. Crying wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  “Ali,” came Daf’s voice. “Snap out of it.”

  Ali came to her senses and heard chains clank down the long, rocky corridor. She held her arms against her chest, her butt on
the stone-cold ground, her back against the cell wall.

  Daf stood, shooting a glance at Ali. “Get ready. It might be our rescue.”

  Footsteps traveled down the long corridor. Shadows came into view, then small men followed. They held torches, illuminating a dozen faces.

  “Stand,” came a booming voice.

  Ali moved to her feet, touching the hilt of her sword.

  The voice spoke again, “Rest your hand elsewhere.”

  Ali dropped her arm by her side. “Who are you?”

  The chains clambered against the bars. Ali narrowed her eyes, realizing the chains weren’t chains at all. They were keys, dozens of them connected to a large ring.

  “Silence,” said the man, sliding a key into the keyhole and twisting. A click sounded.

  The cell door sprang open.

  A small hooded man entered, holding a pickaxe in one hand and a sword in the other. He looked at Ali. “You’re to be executed at once.”

  He held the sword out to Daf, who backed away. Ali went to protest, but the next words out of his mouth nearly paralyzed her.

  “Daf will execute you.”

  “What’s he saying?” asked Daf.

  Rage boiled under Ali’s skin, her response low and sharp. “He wants you to kill me.”

  Daf covered her mouth and shook her head. “Hell, no.”

  Ali brandished her sword. “Over my dead body.”

  The small man jumped back and out of the cell. Laughter erupted from the group. Some bent over and held their bellies. Others leaned against the rocky wall, having a good time of it.

  Ali sheathed her sword. “Are you all drunk?”

  The man who backed out of the cell pushed his hood off his head.

  “King Bilrak?” Daf shouted.

  “Yes, it’s me.” He dropped his pickaxe, banging it against the floor. He thumbed over his shoulder at the rest of the group. “They wanted a good laugh. I'm sorry.”

  Ali gave Bilrak a cold stare, then rolled her eyes.

  Bilrak pulled a gun from his belt. He held it out to Daf. “Take it.”

  Daf slapped her palm against her chest. “If you’re asking me to take that, my answer is no. I’m not killing Ali.”

  “This weapon,” spoke Bilrak, stifling a chuckle, “is for you.” He stepped closer. “Take it. You'll need it. It’s a plasma pistol, and we have many stored in wooden crates, awaiting the day for battle.”

  Daf tilted her head, exhaling an annoyed breath. “Now what’s he saying?”

  Ali pointed to the weapon. “It’s a plasma gun. He wants you to have it.”

  Daf glared at the gun. “What for?”

  Ali shifted her eyes to Bilrak. “What exactly will she need it for?”

  “I apologize for my son, Harak.” He jabbed a man standing beside him in the side. To Ali’s surprise, it was Harak. The jerk looked at the floor, grumbling something Ali couldn’t understand.

  Ali crossed her arms. “Tell him to leave. The piece of Guild threw me in this cell.”

  Harak grunted. “You can’t tell me what to do, sun-dweller.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass, and if you want me to comply and help your Bawn race, then don’t show your face around me again.”

  Harak grunted. “Oh, I’ll put a pain in your ass.”

  “Try it.” She took out her sword, tightening her grip, a fire spreading around Sol’s edges. “You don’t know how much I’d love to rid you from my life.” Her cheeks flushed red, and the power coming from Sol rushed through her, giving her strength and a clear mind.

  Harak folded his arms, his chest out. “Hand to hand, coward.”

  Ali sheathed her sword. “Gladly.”

  Bilrak threw his hands up. “Enough.” He pushed Harak into a Bawn, and the Bawn pushed Harak away until he vanished into the shadows.

  Ali placed her hands on her hips. “Tell your son I’m ready any time.”

  “I’m sure he heard you.” Bilrak’s expression was tight. “It’s almost sundown, and soon we’re entering the mouth of the eastern tunnel that leads to our enemy’s doorstep. It’s a half-day journey and Daf will be with our army. You’ll pilot Starship Tranquil. When we sound the battle horns, our workers at their stations below us will notify you that it’s time to fly Tranquil out of Mount Gabriel and bring fire down upon our enemies.”

  “What?” asked Daf. “I’m tired of not understanding them.”

  Ali explained to Daf what Bilrak instructed.

  Daf shrugged. “And if I refuse?”

  Ali faced Bilrak. “And if we refuse?”

  Bilrak’s face gnarled, his voice rising. “Thun told me you’d accept.” He rubbed his face as if stressed. “If you refuse, then we fight anyway. It’d be unfortunate, though. We dug the tunnel because you had the sword, and the prophecy foretold our victory, the Chosen One leading the way.”

  Ali tapped her scabbard. “Will Harak be near me?”

  Bilrak bowed his head at the sword. “Yes. He’ll be part of your crew. I apologize, but these are my terms, and I won’t stray from them. Both of my sons are in the Bawn Seer, both of them will sit inside Starship Tranquil’s bridge as the prophecies state. I understand you’re the bloodline that unlocks Sol from its long slumber. You are the only one of us who can communicate with Starship Tranquil, but we’ll leave Tranquil altogether if you do not help us. We will continue to search for our own way back to our true home without you.”

  “Earth?” asked Ali, her heart abruptly yearning for her father. An image popped into her head of her and her dad reuniting with Helen, her mother. Their hugs, their tears, and her mother’s relief filled Ali’s heart. She brightened at the thought. She couldn’t wait to end this entire conflict and get back home.

  Bilrak grumbled and stroked his long beard. “Yes, Earth.” He slapped Ali's arm and gave a friendly squeeze. “We are like brothers and sisters, your race and mine. Take us back to our home, my lady, and we’ll walk side by side on Gaia once again.”

  Ali looked at Daf. Her friend bit her cheek, probably wondering what they said. Ali grasped Bilrak's shoulder, squeezing as he had done with her. “You help us end this conflict, then you have mine and Daf’s loyalty.”

  “Then we fight.” Bilrak cheered, hoisting his pickaxe into the air. Everyone roared and several Bawns entered the cell, escorting Daf out. Daf pushed out her bottom lip. “I guess I'll see you later, Ali?”

  “We’re helping them, so yes, you’ll see me later.”

  Daf disappeared past the shadows the torches cast, and out of Ali’s view. Bilrak remained in the cell.

  “Bilrak, you’ll keep Daf safe?”

  He slapped his hands together, rubbing them like he had soap in his hands. “I can tell she’s not a warrior, so skinny and fragile, unlike you, but my answer is yes. She’ll be on our rear, and away from battle. It won’t be a long, drawn-out fight. We’ll have the Anunnaki utterly surprised.”

  “Good,” said Ali.

  “Chan-Ru,” shouted Bilrak.

  Chan came out of the shadows, Thun by his side, and walked toward Ali’s cell. “Why is she still inside?” He motioned for her to exit the cell, the giant towering over the small Bawn.

  “Yes, yes. You are free.” Bilrak gestured for Ali to step out of the cell. “Again.” He looked off in Harak’s direction with a scowl. “I apologize for my son. I’ll knock some sense into him one of these days, but not today. He rides with you, according to the prophecies. Don’t fear, your crew has your back, and their eyes are on Harak, per my orders.”

  Ali didn’t like the idea but figured her continued objections wouldn’t get her far. “He tries something, he’s dead.”

  “I told him as much.”

  “Good.”

  “We have a small crew for you,” said Chan.

  Thun extended his arm outward at a group of Bawn waiting in the corridor. “Meet Algona, Bavila, Ramira, Magil, Dilgor, and Thodion.” After each name, they stepped forward bowing.

  Ali bowed back, her
stomach tightening, wanting to push these men and women away. If she could pilot Tranquil by herself like she had during her first test run, she didn’t need this crew.

  “And,” continued Thun, “you have me, Chan, and Harak.”

  She shoved her fists onto her hips, standing strong and erect. She eyed Harak. “Do nothing stupid.”

  Harak grunted and stepped forward. “Don’t order me around. This is my crew, just as it’s yours.”

  “The hell it is.”

  “Ramira,” interrupted Bilrak, “is my daughter. She’s noble and wise.”

  Ramira bowed. She had long, brown, curly hair with penetrating green eyes, an eye color Ali didn’t notice on Bawns before. “I’ll be your best crew member.”

  Several Bawns grumbled their objections at Ramira’s words.

  Bilrak raised his fist. “Stop.” He pointed to an older woman, who had hair like snow in the biosphere, and wrinkles lining her yellowing face. “This is Algona. She’s wise and one of our best medicine women. She healed Daf’s leg. Algona can heal anything under the earth and sun.”

  Ali looked toward Magil, Dilgor, and Thodion. They wobbled from too much drink. Caped and hooded, their beards hung low and past their bellies. One had his beard tucked under his belt.

  “What are their specialties?” asked Ali.

  “Magil,” said Bilrak, “is the strongest of us by far. He carries the heaviest swords, eats the most meals, and can drink a wicked amount of mead.” He walked to Magil and gave the man a hearty hug. They matched laughter and as Bilrak turned, he wiped spit off of his jovial lips. He eyed Ali, his happy expression falling. “I’ve disturbed you?”

  She couldn’t care less about their strength or who could drink the most. “That’s not what I asked. What can he do for us on the ship?”

  “You can figure it out.” Bilrak hurried past Ali, calling over his shoulder. “I’m late for the tunnel. If I don’t catch up to them now, they’ll leave their king no fighting scraps.”

  Harak slapped his hands together, his pickaxe leaning against his thigh. “Let's go,” he ordered, snaking himself around everyone and to the head of the line. He pointed down the corridor in the opposite direction of his father. “To Tranquil.”