Backlash Rising

by Brandon Ellis

  A large coral reef appeared to the right like spires reaching toward the surface. Fish and other sea creatures busied themselves around the white reef, roaming, hunting, and hiding.

  “Then why do you take part?” questioned Shae.

  “I do what I have to do to survive and help keep my race from dying out. But things are changing. I can feel it. Some of my race are doing their best to find another way to keep our race alive.”

  “Why are they dying out?”

  “I didn’t say we were dying out, but we would if people like me didn’t do their job. We have a failing atmosphere because of past strenuous civil wars. White powder gold helps repair it, though it takes a long, long time it seems.” She clicked on her commlink. “Underpost Nine, this is Kalista. I’m heading in for repairs.”

  “Hey, Kalista,” came Al. “Steer to the inline and we'll pull you in.”

  Kalista slightly moved her control stick and slowed the vessel. A clank sounded, momentarily pushing the Starhawk backward. Light from a massive dome in the distance beamed through the water, highlighting a metallic line attached to the Starhawk’s bow. The line tugged, lurching Shae forward, pulling them along at an incredible speed.

  Kalista took her hands off the controls. “They have a magnetic suction that connects to docking Starhawks. We’ll get some food while they repair our ship.”

  “Then what?” asked Devon, rubbing his lower back, walking toward the bench seat.

  “Once they fix everything, we get back up top and to Nibiru.”

  Shae’s insides contracted at her words.

  Up ahead, a large, disk-like structure loomed. Round lights surrounded its top and pulsed a bright white light, sending beams outward and around the Starhawk. “We'll head in there. Whatever you do, don't exit the craft. They’re under the same protocols as your starbase. They’re not to see the occupants of a Starhawk,” instructed Kalista. “The only difference is that they communicate with us. Your society never has.”

  “Is my race really that dumb not to question such a strange code of conduct?” questioned Shae. “It just seems so preposterous.”

  Kalista chuckled. “Don't ask me how unintelligent your race is. You went along with it, right?” She rolled her eyes. “You're all stupid if you ask me. The chemicals we put in your water don’t help you any.”

  Devon sat and strapped himself in. “Yeah, we read about those. If you didn’t spread them through our water and lace them in our food, we’d be a lot smarter than you could ever imagine.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I suppose the inhabitants of this base are stupid too?” asked Shae. Being stupid took a lot of brainwashing.

  “Yes, they’re unintelligent. Here we are,” Kalista announced.

  They entered through a large opening in the disk-like structure, bringing them to a small, one ship-sized docking bay big enough for a Starhawk. The bay door closed, and the water level lowered, eventually draining completely. The tow winch attached to the craft’s bow unmagnetized, spooling into a frame attached to the middle of the docking bay wall in front of them. The wall slid up and light flooded in.

  A man wearing clothes similar to Star Guild military attire waved them onward, and Kalista flipped a few switches on the ceiling above her. The Starhawk shifted and moved forward on a yellow track and into a large holding bay that housed countless other craft—Starhawks, Starjumpers, and several foreign-looking crafts Shae eyed for the first time. Their craft came to a stop.

  Kalista wagged her finger at a large, saucer-shaped craft. “Those are Seabirds, used for sea excursion. These people mine all over Opus, drilling into underwater caverns and volcanoes. It’s dangerous, but these nitwits have mastered underwater mining, so only a few accidents occur a year.” She cleared her throat. “The year cycle here differs from what you’re used to. Your year amounts to three here.”

  A man with a scruffy beard, tan, and a smile showing white teeth, tapped on the window. He held a metal box, motioning toward the back of the Starhawk.

  “Our food awaits.” She unstrapped. She walked to the cargo bay door, pressing on a control panel. “We have these handy package delivery systems. They place the food, or whatever else I'm asking for, through a little panel in the back of the Starhawk, and…” As if on cue, a ping sounded, announcing a delivery. “Most importantly, they don't see me.” She grabbed the package and returned to her seat. She sniffed the package, lifting her nose in delight. “These people know how to cook.”

  The aroma wafted to Shae’s nose. His mouth instantly watered. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate.

  Kalista opened the box. It held three tiers of shelving, each with a plate of food. She reached behind her, plate in hand. “Devon, here.” Devon took it, and she placed a plate on Shae’s lap. “Eat up.”

  Shae picked up a fork, mesmerized by the beautiful presentation of food before him. Something akin to mashed potatoes and gravy steamed upward, the smell like heaven. Green and yellow vegetables he couldn’t identify, garnished with a sauce, also screamed for Shae to hurry and shove a fork full in his mouth. Shae took a bite, savoring the flavor, wanting to moan with enjoyment.

  “What exactly is in our water back on Matrona?” asked Devon, his mouth full.

  “Chemicals...stuff. I'm not a scientist. All I know is that they put chemicals in your water to dumb you down, to narrow your frame of thinking, and to keep you controlled. We do that with your food as you probably already know.”

  Shae dropped his fork on his plate, his meal not so appealing anymore. “It’s in this stuff too, isn’t it?”

  Kalista shook her head. “Orion’s slimy belt, no. They make Starhawk meals from a different supply.” A fist banged on the window and the mechanic gave a thumbs up. Kalista cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck around. “Let’s go.” She put the plate down, tucking it inside the metallic box. “Come on. You two put your plates in. I don’t have an eternity.”

  Shae took another bite, slid the plate on the middle box shelf and handed the box to Devon.

  Kalista activated the engines. “The guy who pounded on our window wore a hybrid outfit. Did you see that? Kinda odd.”

  Shae eyed the man. He wore gray and green fatigues, different from the blue and red the rest of the crew in the docking bay wore. “A hybrid outfit?”

  “Yeah.” She buckled her restraining belt. “Get your restraints on. We're leaving.”

  The Starhawk quivered, and a long cable tractored them out into the smaller docking bay. The wall shut in front of them, and the bay began filling with water. Kalista swiped across her holodisplay, pressing a button, and the Starhawk unhooked from the cable. The bay door behind them opened and the vast ocean reached around them, sucking them into the sea. She turned the ship around and sped forward.

  Kalista slapped the back of her neck and rubbed. “Who was that guy?” She puffed out her cheeks in thought. She spoke, though softly to herself. “Payson is a hybrid, trained in special ops. Most hybrids live undercover until called, and—” she gasped. “No, no. That guy better not have done what I think he did.”

  Shae straightened, not liking the nervous tone in her voice. “What did the guy do?”

  Kalista threw her hands in the air. “I don't know who… perhaps Y'taul…but we’ve been ratted on.” She pressed several keys on the HDC, bringing up a schematic of the ship. “I'm looking for changes on our Starhawk.” She scanned the blueprint, her finger moving back and forth, searching for something peculiar. “Tell me if you see any heat changes that—” She punched her fist onto her thigh. “Nibiru’s curse. They put extras on the bottom of my Starhawk.”

  Shae wrinkled his nose. “Extras?”

  She let out a gush of air. “Probably a bomb.” She pulled back on the throttle, slowing, and eventually stopping the Starhawk. It bobbed in the water, hovering up and down as the thrusters constantly rebalanced the craft, keeping it submerged.

  She grimaced. “I’m guessing we only have a few minutes.�
� She stood and hurried toward Devon, pushing him off the bench seat, knocking him to the floor. “You’re constantly in the way.” She pulled out the toolbox, opening it, and grabbed a thick wedge. “Who’ll volunteer to knock the device off the Starhawk?”

  Devon fidgeted. “How do you know it’s a bomb?”

  “I know bombs. I know the heat signature they give off. I’m certain it’s a bomb.” She handed the tool to Devon. “Here. I'm scared sick of water. You do this now or we die.”

  37

  Eden

  Starship Sirona, Eos

  Eden dashed through the corridor, William and Hank on her tail.

  From what Eden could gather, the Sirona Guard was doing a hell of a job getting these people off the ship, but it was still too slow.

  Sirona’s inhabitants are boarding me, came Swift.

  Eden almost halted, her hand coming to her heart. “You’re here?”

  I am. Hurry. The weapon is charging. It will fire soon.

  Can you engage the weapon while people board you? asked Eden.

  Negative. And after initial scans, the weapon is carrying unstable elements. We open fire upon it, and our impacts won’t only destroy the weapon, but everything around it in a two-kilometer radius.

  “Crap. Well, scrap that idea.”

  Consider it scrapped.

  Eden continued to run. The rest of the Space Templars, including Nyx, ran ahead of them, Hank struggling to keep up.

  “What did you say, Eden?” asked William, his breathing hastened.

  “Nothing. Keep going.” She sensed Hank behind her, and an image came to mind of his heart pumping blood through clogged arteries. She shook her head, pushing it out of her mind, wondering where that could have possibly come from, and why. She stopped and turned. Best not ignore the Sight. Hank had fallen far behind, his cheeks flush red and white blotches dotted his face. She grabbed William’s wrist. “He’s close to having a heart attack.”

  “Who?” William almost slipped from her sudden grasp and clutched Eden’s arm to hold himself upright.

  She pointed. “Hank.” The alarms were blaring, and men and women hurried past them, heading toward one of the launch bays. She and William waded through the near stampede, making their way to Hank. The big guy threw his hands on his knees and bent over, wheezing. “I’m sorry. I can’t keep up. I’ll walk. Just go on without me.”

  William rubbed his back. “Take in a slow, deep breath and let it out. Keep doing so until your heartbeat slows down.” His voice was soft and mellow.

  Hank shook his head, sweat dripping from his nose. “Keep going. You have a ship to board, and by Guild, I’m not letting you miss it.” He looked up, his face wet from perspiration. “Go.”

  Eden went to a knee and looked into Hank’s eyes. “Trust me, okay? We’ll be beside you the entire time, but you can’t run. We’ll walk with you, all right?”

  He jerked his head upward. “What? No. You don’t have time.”

  Eden closed her eyes. Swift, how long do we have?

  From what my scanners view, seven minutes, maybe eight at most. Are you able to get to me, Eden?

  I’ll try.

  “Walk, don’t run,” demanded Eden, helping Hank straighten his back. “Let’s go.”

  “Leave me be. I don’t care.” He pushed her hand away. “Just, you two, get the hell off the damn ship. Forget about me.”

  Eden set her hands on her hips. “I ain’t moving until you move. Now walk.”

  Hank looked at Eden like she was crazy. “What? We’ll all be killed.”

  “Well, if we keep waiting around, then yes. We die,” said William.

  “Fine.” Hank walked forward, and Eden and William took slow strides down the corridor.

  People bumped into them, moving past them in a panic. Eden moved around a corner, her hand rubbing Hank’s back, doing her best to calm his heart rate. They closed in on the launch bay. There they would make their way down a ramp to the outside, and finally to one of Swift’s bays.

  Five minutes, Eden, said Swift.

  Eden’s heartbeat picked up. Dammit. Okay, I’m coming. They moved through another corridor. “Up ahead. We’re almost there.” They entered the launch bay filled with unmanned starfighters, tools strewn about, and abandoned work vehicles littering the area. Hank picked up speed when they saw the launch bay door open.

  Two minutes. I repeat, two minutes, said Swift.

  Men and women in the hundreds, maybe thousands, rushed toward the ramp, some falling, others shouting. Eden helped a woman up, then slapped her rear. “Go, go.” William and Hank made it to the top edge of the ramp, Eden just behind them. They went down and toward the orb-like ship shimmering across the way, several of its launch bay ramps down. People ran up the ramps, entering the behemoth craft.

  “I can’t believe I’m breathing actual air,” said Hank, sniffing in as much oxygen as he could.

  “It’s pure, too,” mentioned William.

  “Almost there.” Eden motioned toward Swift.

  Hank stopped, wide-eyed and taking it all in, standing in between the two starships, his mouth open.

  “What are you doing?” William grabbed him, almost tripping him to the ground.

  Hank stumbled but kept his balance. He nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes, yes. Go, go.”

  A blast shook the earth, and a bright light filled the sky. Eden was lifted off her feet, and wind threw her to the ground. She hit hard, yelping, and tumbled to her side. She slid to a stop. Metal tore against metal and screeching sounds filled the air. She glanced up and saw Sirona warp, twist, and whine, the sounds almost deafening.

  “No.” Eden reached forward.

  Not all the crew had made it off of the ship. As if a vacuum sucked from inside Sirona, men and women heading down the ramps were lifted off their feet and flew backward into the ship. Their arms and legs flailed, and their screams pierced Eden’s eardrums. She pushed up and rushed toward Hank and William, who lay nearly paralyzed on the ground, staring at their old ship falling apart before them.

  Eden squinted, following a stream of light focused on Starship Sirona’s midsection. She shifted her gaze to a wide cannon barrel in the distance. The cannon sat atop and attached to a platform; the platform held up by a couple dozen hefty thrusters hovering it in place.

  A screeching sound and Eden faced Sirona. The ship buckled, folding in on itself. Eden grabbed William and Hank by their shirts, pulling on them with all her strengths. “Get up.” They stood and twisted around, running toward Swift.

  “Swift,” screamed Eden. “Blow the damn weapon to hell and back.”

  I’m sorry. Like I said, I can’t. Sensors show it would end all life in the area, including myself.

  A blast growled inside Sirona, and the ship groaned heavily, shooting silvery orange and yellow sparks outward. It pushed Eden off her feet as she reached Swift’s ramp, landing sideways against the ramp’s grated metal. William and Hank landed beside her, the ramp shaking as people tumbled onto it. A loud boom and Eden twisted to her back.

  Sirona turned into what appeared to be a bright star, much like a supernova Eden had seen on holomovies and holodocumentaries. The ship sucked inward, almost as if it scrunched together into a ball, metal crunching, glass shattering. Eden gasped when it disappeared into itself as if sucked into a wormhole and then was completely gone. Her mouth remained open, and all went silent. She froze in place, unable to move or even blink.

  Eden, get in my bay, said Swift. The weapon is already recharging. We’re next.

  Eden shook her head like a wet puppy, and all sound returned; the screams, the boots pounding up the ramp, Hank grunting as he went to stand.

  Eden nodded. “Yes, go, go.” She ran up the ramp, looking over her shoulder at Hank and William. “The weapon will fire at us soon. Get your asses up here.” She reached the top and entered the launch bay. Men and women lay on the bay floor, some hurt, others out of breath. Several Space Templars assisted them, communicating, pointing
here and there, sending people quickly down corridors.

  She reached her arms out to Hank and William, noticing the skin on her arms and hands were now streaked with cuts and bleeding. “We’re the last ones to board. Get inside.” They reached out to Eden, and she grasped their wrists, leaning back. They flopped forward, falling to the floor, and sliding into the bay.

  Closing all launch bay doors, said Swift. The ramp sucked inward, and the door slid downward, clanging loudly.

  Eden lay on the ground, her breath heaving in and out. She turned her head to the side, staring at an orb starfighter parked next to her. It was shimmering like diamonds and fading in and out as if it were half in this dimension and half in the next.

  “An Aven,” she said to herself. If she remembered correctly, Skye mentioned Swift had hundreds of them in her launch bays. At the moment, she took his word for it, not wanting to stand up and count.

  A woman bent down beside her, crouching. “How you doing, sailor?”

  Eden glanced up, her lips forming a smile at the gorgeous woman staring back at her. “Are we safe?”

  Nyx shook her head. “We’re not out of this yet.” She tapped on the floor. “Swift, any time now.”

  I’ve not detected anyone else alive outside. So, yes, it’s time to leave, replied Swift. The weapon has no way to target us when we reach a thousand meters or more. We’re almost in the clear. Swift lifted off the ground, the launch bay vibrating.

  “Where are we headed,” said William, sitting up.

  Eden touched her heart, her fingers splayed, her back still on the ground. “Swift, where are we headed?”

  To Eos Two, Starship Tranquil.

  “Starship Tranquil?” Eden shouted. “Another starship?”

  Yes.

  Hank breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Who are you talking to?”

  “The ship and don’t ask. I don’t want to explain how we communicate.”

  William stood, rubbing his arm. “Okay, well…where did it say we’re going?”