Creator's End

by A. R. Knight

  “You made it.” Rav says slow.

  “I had to.”

  “You had to?” Rav asks, her tail flicking behind Sax, and he notices most of his following horde scatter back into the ship. “You took most of my crew away from their posts. Caused all kinds of disruption, including to yourself.”

  “I’m ready, Rav,” Sax hisses. “By the time you get your commanders here, I’ll be ready. Call them.”

  Sax, though, isn’t looking at Rav while he speaks. He’s staring out over the bridge, through the giant screens at the world glowing in front of them.

  “I want to go home.”

  21 Chances Taken

  As the fighters get close, I can see they have no windshield. Like flying rocks, all mottled stone and sharp angles.

  “More protection that way,” the Ooblot says when I ask why.

  That’s the end of the conversation, though, as I yank the shuttle into a flip-turn, giving Viera a chance to play tag with her miner. She spews red fire at a fighter as it rockets past, and a couple of the bolts bite into the ship’s side without any apparent effect.

  “Nice shooting,” I offer anyway.

  “For all the good it did,” Viera shouts back. “Don’t know if this is going to work, Kaishi.”

  We’re bigger, they’re faster. Two of them, one of us, and I’m not sure how long the shuttle’s going to keep taking punches without plummeting to the ground in pieces. We have to change the game.

  So I dive at that big hole in the ground, back towards Marilo in all its ruin. The fighters are already looping around to follow me, but their turn takes time and I manage to scream past a couple more descending Flaum shuttles before my pursuit gets oriented.

  Then we’re plunging into smoke, between the rocks and into the massive cavern.

  “I’d slow down,” T’Oli says. “At this speed, you’re likely going to turn us all into mush.”

  “Working on it.” I’m pulling back on the flight stick, sliding down the speed on the control terminal.

  “You know I can’t send the message to the Q-Net from within here?”

  “Some things have to wait, T’Oli,” I reply. “You won’t be able to send the message if we’re blown apart, either.”

  With the slowing speed, I guide the shuttle out from over the city, passing above the lake, where, once the smoke clears away, I can see squads of Sevora Flaum pursuing the refugees along the road we ran not long ago. They’re gunning down the fleeing humans, and the sight of it lights a fire in me.

  “Viera, we’re going strafing,” I yell back to her. “Be ready off the right side.”

  I bring the shuttle around low, trying not to wince as humans dive and cower when we swing near. If I could yell to them to keep running, I would. More frustration to add to my fire.

  Ahead, walking along the wide rock path split on either side by the large lake, ranks of Sevora move forward with miners raised, spraying red fire at the humans. None, yet, seem to think we’re anything other than support.

  “Get ready,” I shout a warning, though I doubt Viera needs it.

  I pull the shuttle to the right, then twist it as we go over the water, flipping Viera’s side towards the Flaum. I slow the engines, so that we’re hovering as we pass over the bridge. Viera, with our moment’s surprise, goes to work. A steady stream of red flashes out from her miner, laying into the packed Flaum troops who, until this point, probably hadn’t faced any counter attack.

  They take it exactly the way the Lunare took Malo’s surprise assault on them so long ago - with stunned immobility. Viera’s miner goes through its energy quick, and she drops it to pick up mine, and only in that brief pause do the first Sevora start to counter, start to send a few hasty bolts our way while others realize they’re in a tight space without cover.

  The panic that takes hold is not an asset.

  When the second miner runs out of juice, most of the Sevora forces on the bridge are ruined, and those that aren’t flee back towards the city.

  Right in time for those fighters to find us again, as we’re hovering dead in the air.

  The two fighters home in on us, emerging from the smoke. They’re flying cautious in the tight quarters. I do a quick consideration; we’re too slow, too big to get away from them, and Viera has no firepower left. If I move forward and we crash into the lake, we do nothing. But if we stay here? The shuttle’s going to smash onto the rock bridge and maybe destroy it or, if not, serve as an obstacle for the pursuing Flaum.

  One more refugee might live another day.

  “T’Oli, it’s been an honor,” I say as the two fighters settle in close to us. “Glad I got to know an Ooblot.”

  “And I’m happy to know a human,” T’Oli replies, shifting itself to hard stone.

  The fighters unleash their first salvo, a trio of crimson bolts that crash into the shuttle and send lighting racing across the terminals. I squint and block sparks with my hand, feeling their heat in my palm. Any moment now.

  I’m expecting the crackling roar of an explosion, but what I get instead is a loud boom. No, a cascade of deep cracks banging in the air, and something strikes the left fighter hard. The Sevora ship lurches forward as its rear caves in, and the craft plunges down into the lake. The second fighter doesn’t fare much better as the booms continue and a pair of large, rounded metal balls bang into its sides, send the fighter spinning into the cavern’s wall, where it crumples and slides into the water.

  “Where did those come from?” I’m ecstatic, confused, all together.

  “Avril’s come home,” Viera shouts from the back. “And she brought help!”

  I remember that I control the shuttle, so I use the flight stick to turn us, pick us up from the ground, so we can see. Pouring into the cavern from the far side, barely visible through the smoke, are Lunare and Charre soldiers. Trundling with them, some already breaking into the back side of the bridge, are those land boats, pulled by chained Fassoth, with their cannons roaring.

  The Lunare have made modifications since we last fought them; the cannons aren’t just fixed to the sides anymore, but sit on raised platforms, giving the Lunare manning them the option to swing those cannons around, even to aim them up, where they’re now firing at the Flaum shuttles. Pistol and long-gun cracks mix with red flashes of Sevora laser.

  “Why haven’t they shot us?” T’Oli asks. “Not that I’m disappointed, but we look like the enemy, right?”

  I’m wondering the same thing, until I hear cheering coming from behind us, through Viera’s open bay.

  “The refugees,” I say. “If they miss, they might break the bridge, or hit their own people. Avril’s making a safe choice.”

  “Then you’d better stay right here,” T’Oli replies.

  “Viera, go!” I yell to my friend. “Tell them we’re friendly. Then T’Oli and I will take off and deliver the message.”

  Viera doesn’t hesitate, and I’m glad, for even if the Lunare manage to win a small victory here, it’s only going to last until the Sevora get tired of fighting, until they decide to simply immolate everything. These caverns, the jungle and all of Charre could wind up like the blowing ashes on the other side, and I will not let that happen. The faster we get that message out, the faster we get help here, the more of my world we’ll save.

  “How high do we need to go for this message?” I ask the Ooblot. “All the way up to space?”

  “I nearly had a link established before we abandoned the sky,” T’Oli replies. “Just outside of the hole should do. Which is good, because I don’t believe this shuttle will fly much longer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  T’Oli points out the broken terminals, shorted by the fighter’s laser fire. On the screens still working, plenty of graphs and meters blink in reds with bars near their bottom lines. I learn which ones mean power, which mean shielding, and which mean life support, and how all of them are close to failure.

  “So you don’t think the Sevora will take this back when
we’re done with it?”

  “As scrap, maybe,” T’Oli says.

  I settle back into the netting, watching the burning, broken city. The Sevora aren’t sending any more shuttles in through the hole - after losing three, they abandoned that tactic - which means the Lunare should eventually triumph. With the space that’ll give us, I’m thinking we might actually get this message off.

  “Which means what, Kaishi?” Malo’s voice whispers in my head. “What do you think the Vincere are going to do when they come? You think the Amigga’s army will save you?”

  I blink. Glance at my wrist. The Cache.

  “T’Oli, give me a moment.” I stare into the bracelet, see that green flash and vanish into its endless library.

  What I’m looking for are species, ones left by the Amigga, ones destroyed and saved. What I find is complicated; this is a Sevora Cache, and the parasites don’t know everything, so I get half-formed entries about strange creatures, ones the Sevora might have hosted for a time before they’re eliminated and never encountered again.

  A couple stand out. Ones the Sevora infected and spread through quickly, until, according to the Cache, most of the population had been turned into hosts. These, once the Amigga found them, were eliminated. Turned to ash.

  So the Amigga aren’t afraid to torch a species that’s lost. It’s not great, but I see the point. If something’s useful to your enemy, you take it away. What’s worse, though, is that the Amigga don’t even try to save them. The Sevora records show an orbital attack, burning the planet to obliteration, including those small factions that weren’t yet enslaved.

  Is that what they’d do to us?

  The go-ahead doesn’t come from Viera making her return to the shuttle, but rather from Vee bounding onto the bridge and up through our bay doors. I’ve pulled myself out of the Cache, and the Oratus’ return gives me a welcome reprieve from the repercussions of our plan’s potential success.

  Vee himself isn’t looking all that bad for his hunting expedition; a few new burn scars on his scales, some bits of fur sticking from his teeth and a face full of satisfaction.

  “I bring you assent from your people,” Vee announces as he stalks to the cockpit. “They will not fire at you if you fly.”

  “You bring assent?” I look past him, glance out the windshield. “Where’s Viera?”

  “Telling your story,” Vee hisses. “She did not think I would add anything, and said the amount of blood on my scales was distracting.” When he notices me looking, Vee laughs. “I took a dip in the lake to spare your soft heart the trouble.”

  “Glad to have you back, Vee,” T’Oli says from the Q-Net machine. “I must say, it’s been dicey without your natural killing abilities around.”

  “Yes? You must tell me.”

  T’Oli launches into a recounting of our venture up the Siamante as I lift the shuttle up and towards the ceiling of the cavern. As we rise, it’s clear that some of the fires are being put out. The red flashes have disappeared, and the large cannon boats are taking up positions around the city, with all of their cannons aiming towards the very hole I’m flying to. It’s an impressive, if useless display.

  Nothing the Cache told me suggests the Sevora, or the Amigga, will bother with another land invasion. Unless something changes, they’ll cut their losses and blow everything apart from space.

  We lift out of the hole, into the bright light of Ignos. It’s nearing evening, and traces of orange and purple slant into the sky. It’s lovely, and for a moment it lets me ignore the dark Sevora ships hovering far overhead.

  I don’t get near them, instead following T’Oli’s suggestion to park the shuttle on a crumbled, frost-bitten plateau not far from the hole.

  “Will this work?” I ask T’Oli.

  “Perfectly,” the Ooblot replies. “Already on it.”

  “Great. I’m going to step outside for a moment. Get me when you’re ready to head back.”

  The ground is hard and frozen, a few sparse weeds fighting for survival up here as wind whips my hair around. It’s cold and cutting, and I love every second of it. Mountains spill out around me, wild and ferocious. The jungles of my home are behind me, hidden by the peak. Ignos hits my face, and his slight warmth is everything.

  Home. This is what we’re trying to save.

  I hope we don’t destroy it at the same time.

  An Excerpt from Humanity Rising, The Skyward Saga Book Five

  My first target sports clotted amber fur, which blows across its face as it’s exposed to the mountain wind. Those distracting strands offer me the opening I need to slip the point past its guard, which amounts to a thrown up arm with a small hand wrapped around a miner’s trigger. The stab connects and I start to pull back for a second jab when the Flaum pinches the spear into its side, pressing the point in further

  It’s a move that has to be incredibly painful, but when you’re being controlled by something else, something that might ignore your suffering for its own ends, such maneuvers become viable. I’m not expecting it, so when the Flaum twists away from me, the spear’s torn from my grasp.

  I draw the kukri, a knife that bends along the blade, ending with a heavier, flat point ideal for the more mundane tasks of life like chopping fruit or clearing leaves. Here I use it to perform a slashing cut, one that doesn’t so much hurt the Flaum as give me a meter’s space to adjust.

  On either side of me other warriors engage with the rest of the Flaum, using our numbers to drive them back towards the cliff’s edge. Viera works her pistols, along with other Lunare marksmen, to keep other Sevora shooters from picking us off from the shuttle doors. This is the instant stalemate I’ve come to expect, and one that gets thrown awry as more Sevora shuttles blow in above and behind us.

  The amber-furred Flaum makes its move, ignoring its wound and the spear sticking out of it to aim the miner towards me. In that instant, though, I jump forward, kukri swiping at the Flaum’s weapon-wielding arm while the rest of me barrels into the lightweight creature.

  I’m not a large person either - most of the warriors on this cliff face have me beat handily in height and weight - but Flaum are more fur than anything. The kukri’s swing gets the Flaum backpedaling, and my left-shoulder charge hits its chest, knocking the Flaum into a falling stumble. With my left hand, I grab the handle of my spear as the Flaum chitters out a panicked screech, and draw back my weapon.

  The Flaum, and the Sevora inside it, tumble over the cliff. There’s a chance those boots it has can find enough metal in the mountainside to stabilize its fall, but I’m willing to live with that risk; there’s more pressing targets.

  “This isn’t working, Kaishi!” Viera’s yell cuts above the madness, and I see her wielding her sword in her left hand, a pistol in her right.

  Viera ducks under a Flaum firing as it descends to land near her, then sweeps with her blade, taking the creature’s legs out from under it. A quick finishing shot at the tripped Flaum buys my friend a breath, which she uses to tell me to run.

  “There’s too many!” Viera calls.

  I rush back to the line, which now is more of a circle, getting pressed in on all sides by the Sevora forces. Miners flash their bolts and our warriors fall, the Sevora forming a defensive line and allowing the ranks behind to lay down covering fire.

  I’m passed back through my own ranks, Viera pulling me along. I try to turn, to stand with my own forces, but my friend won’t let me, until I shake her off, twist away and look in the faces of the creatures gunning us down.

  “Kaishi,” Viera protests over the screams, the shouts and rings of metal-on-metal. “We run now, or we die!”

  I’ve run before. Left my people to fend for themselves against a hostile galaxy, and I’m not doing it again.

  If you liked this story, please leave a review!

  And if you didn’t, or just want to say hi, please send us comments at www.blackkeybooks.com - we’re always looking for feedback from our readers!

  Also by A.R. Knigh
t

  The Mercenaries Trilogy

  The Metal Man

  Wild Nines

  Dark Ice

  One Shot

  The Riven Trilogy

  Riven

  The Cycle

  Spirit’s End

  The Rakers Saga

  Rakers

  The Skyward Saga

  The Spear

  Oratus

  Starshot

  Mind’s Eye

  Clarity’s Dawn

  Creator’s End

  Humanity Rising

  The Last Cycle

  Discover More Stories

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  Acknowledgments

  This novel is the product of my family and friends refusing to let a dream die. My wife Nicole, for letting me write in the early mornings and making sure I didn’t starve. My brothers and parents for their continual comments, support, and enthusiasm.

  And, of course, you, the reader, for giving me a reason to write.

  About the Author

  A.R. Knight spins stories in a frosty house in Madison, WI, primarily owned by a pair of cats. After getting sucked into the working grind in the economic crash of the 2008, he found himself spending boring meetings soaring through space and going on grand adventures.

  Eventually, spending time with podcasting, screenplays, short stories and other novels, he found a story he could fall into and a cast of characters both entertaining and full of heart.

  A.R. Knight plans on jumping through to other worlds and finding new stories to tell in the limitless borders of our imagination.