"We will disperse throughout these quadrants.” He ran a circle across the sectioned areas. “But no more than three ships together at any one time. I do not want to draw their attention. When the main fleets shift occupation of an area, we adjust accordingly. Cellular communications only for each group. We’ll use codes for verification and emergencies and implement a shared encryption system to avoid infiltration. Most important of all: from this point on, everybody operates on a need to know basis."
He stood back from the huddled group. “I need you to understand this is not military-style conflict. Not as yet, anyway. We are too insignificant, too weak…”
He nodded over to the Signite Commander. "Commander Lortay, this will be an adjustment for your style of warfare. I will mix your fleet vessels in with the others. You’ll need to coach your captains on this type of warfare. If you encounter superior numbers, you turn-tail and run.”
He passed his gaze over the group. “I'll assign each of you the areas in which you will be responsible. We follow the program. No mistakes. No heroics... Any questions?"
YushTar presented one. "The ships we capture, they will be damaged. We can only repair what we are able."
"We’ll coordinate a relay to transport damaged ships to appropriated spaceports where they can be repaired. It will be up to each of you to move the ships to a safe area and sit on them until the relay shows up."
"There are many variables, many holes in this plan," stated Lortay flatly.
"Yes, and we’ll fill those holes with our blood. This is a start, the beginning of an overall strategy, that's all. When we see a new opportunity come up, we'll seize it."
"You can be sure there is one particular opportunity: others will want to join us," offered Roshesh.
"I am counting on that. New cells, we need them, and skilled workers, especially those that know the trades, the ones that can repair ships, the ones that can fly'em, and everyone in-between. But remember we operate under the need to know basis. I expect informants. Sooner or later they're bound to infiltrate our ranks and we will lose cells in the process."
"When should we start attacking outright?" asked YushTar.
Ryan nodded his head. "I know what you want. If you ask me if I have a great master plan, I will say no. But I won't be doing this alone. I'll expect leadership from every last one of you. These are basic principles I've proposed. We have to work as independent cells. We have a limited amount of time to build a suitable force. It will not take long before they catch on and start running militia escorts. If we're going to win this war, we'll need ships, and there is no better way to obtain them than by stealing them, as fast and as frequently as possible."
"I see the next step will be to establish a secure communications net. With the proper positioning of ships and bases, we'll have the intelligence to know what the enemy is up to. That should help. We’ll learn everything we can, no matter how trivial it seems, and compile it centrally. We will find their weaknesses."
The conversation died to silence. They all knew what to do, what had to be done.
"Alright, then, this meeting is adjourned."
Hushob approached Ryan, insistent upon discussing the ship rebuilding issues, but Commander Lortay interrupted them both, clearing his throat loudly.
"I'm sorry, Commander," Ryan apologized. "Just trying to wrap up a few details. I would like to talk to you in a few minutes. Come to think of it, we have a certain individual that would like to meet you. Claims to be the leader of some local resistance. I have my doubts."
Hushob waved to a Showmish guard. In a few minutes, the Signite was escorted out. Lortay’s face turned pale, lips drawn thin. "Commander, this is not a leader of a local resistance. He is a known informant of the Xi-Empire."
The announcement didn't actually surprise Ryan, but it did seem, somehow, humorous. Oddly enough, he laughed.
Guess no one else saw the humor, or was he getting twisted?
He turned his attention to the unlucky Signite. "Well, well, looks like my instincts were right about you."
The man was nervous, constantly wetting his lips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I don't know what you're talking about. You can't be serious. Commander Lortay is mistaken. I never even met him."
Ryan paced in front him. "Oh, but he's not in command here - I am. That does not make things better for you, I’m afraid. It makes things far worse. You know, I have a hard time tolerating your kind. I was a slave for a long time. I worked in the mines you see – probably the most difficult place to survive. Showmish, Human, Brog, Kalmakan, all trying to stay alive, the average lasting less than a year. But then there were the moles, selling out for that extra morsel of food, that brief added privilege. In the end, however, they all died too, and they did not die well. Your kind is too short-sighted. You can't see ahead far enough to maintain your own self-respect."
He reached out and grabbed the Signite by the collar. "Listen to me, little man. You are about to make the hardest decision in your life, so listen very carefully. You'll tell us everything you know, and that means everything, or you will die more painfully than you ever imagined."
He tossed him backward. The Signite flew off the platform and landed on his back in the sand.
The anger surged through him - a dark ravenous force. He felt like he could rip this man apart with his bare hands. It took everything he had to turn away.
Breathe.
The rage died down and he regained control. They were awaiting his decision. He turned one last time to look the informant straight in the eye. The Signite squirmed under his gaze. He reached down and pulled out his blaster, and aimed it between the Signite's eyes.
"You must make your decision now."
The muzzle did not waver.
"I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything! I was just trying to stay alive. It's not my fault. They said they would kill me."
“Of course they did.” Ryan scoffed and holstered his blaster. “You’re a damned fool.”
"Lortay, he's yours. Get him out of my sight."
Lortay motioned to a couple of his troopers, they grabbed the Signite and escorted him back to their ship. Ryan stood there quietly, hands on his hips, staring down at the sand. He could feel something shaking inside him.
"There are traitors among all our people," Hushob said. "It is... expected."
"Yeah, I know. I'll communicate my plans to all of you once I have them figured out. Lortay, I feel like a stiff drink, would you like to join me?"
"Certainly, in my ship?"
"No, in mine."
The two went into the Dancing Queen. Ryan located a certain bottle of Xeronian brandy from the galley and joined Lortay in the lower level.
"Commander, I know a little about militia strategy. Just how many ships do you really have?"
Lortay took a sip of the drink. "Remarkable stuff, kind of smooth. I'll have to introduce you to some of my personal stores. And it is possible that we may have almost one hundred ships, fully operational and outfitted."
"You have a manufacturing facility?"
"Yes. We have been working furiously for the past year now. We've had some close calls, though."
"Your technology is not as advanced as the Xi-Empire's. In combat, they'll rip your fleet to shreds."
“I am very aware of this, but we have no recourse.”
"I have friends. They'll help. I suspect we can re-outfit your ships relatively fast."
"How much will this cost?"
"Don't be so suspicious. We're on the same side, remember."
Lortay's eyes landed on him squarely. "So we are... I don't believe I ever recalled meeting you, Commander, In all my years of service."
Ryan chuckled. "Of course you haven't. I'm from Earth."
Lortay leaned back, nothing short of wonderment in his eyes. "From Earth! I would have never dreamed. Of course, I couldn't place that accent. My apologies, Commander, I was only being cautious."
"I know."
&nbs
p; Lortay relaxed. "Currently, we have a little over two hundred ships ready to go."
Ryan chuckled. "That’s a good start for a rebellion. I think it's time for you to meet some friends of mine. We have little time left before more Xi-Empire patrols arrive. Dispatch your escort ships. I don't want them to be around when someone finally answers those distress calls that were sent. I want you to follow me. With your help, we may just win this war."
"You mentioned Aviore Tem Enova, is she really here?"
"Yes, but she's asleep right now, otherwise, I would introduce you.”
“Oh. The last news I heard she had been captured by those animals.”
“Yes, I’m afraid she was. But she’s safe now.”
“Then perhaps another time, then. All of Signus is indebted to you." He stood up, ready to leave. He could not sit for very long. "I will issue the orders to put your plan in motion and await for your departure."
"Good, and will you do me a favor? Have that destroyer put in tow and brought back to your base. It’s too valuable to leave here."
"I'll see to it myself, Commander."
Ryan held out his hand. "Earth custom - to shake hands,"
The Signite's grip was surprisingly strong.
"Interesting custom. Physical contact, however, is not always advantageous, especially considering the biohazards."
"Consider yourself infected, Commander," replied Ryan with a half-smile. The Signite returned a wide grin and exited promptly. Ryan turned his attention to Gem, setting up communications channels with all the Showmish captains. They planned out the missions swiftly and were soon passing on farewells as the small rebellion disembarked one by one.
Ryan stepped down the ramp to enjoy the evening breeze.
Signus was, after all, a beautiful planet.
He watched as each ship lifted off, throwing up a massive column of sand as the burners engaged. By now the Signite sun was lost beyond the horizon, leaving only the slightest pale reflection. In the fading light, the departing ships provided a spectacular light show. Captain Hushob’s ship was the last to remain.
Ryan pulled up communications via the vaskpar, projecting a mental image of his features.
“So you are going to be able to launch that slaver shortly? Are you sure, Captain?"
"Yes, the vessel is indeed sound. We will lift off seven or eight days.
If the Txtian was correct, we may have visitors soon. It will be very close."
"You won't be alone. Lortay and his ship will be leaving with me, the other Signite ships will stay and depart with you. But if you can't get that ship spaceworthy in time, get the hell out. I want to see you again, right?"
“We will meet again, Commander.”
“Good luck, Captain.”
"Good luck to you as well," he hissed back.
Ryan reluctantly headed back into the ship.
The show was done anyway.
Within the hour Lortay called in to let him know he was ready. Ryan thumbed the intercom to the rest of the ship. Most of the humans had decided to stay with him and he needed to keep them informed.
"Hello, everyone. Ziggy will be escorting all of you through the sterilization lock. Your quarantine period has elapsed. Please make yourselves comfortable. I've arranged a nice view for you as we take off. I imagine you'll enjoy it."
He ran a quick systems check before lifting off.
In a minute they were ready.
The Dancing Queen roared as she climbed up and into the night sky, leaving the peaceful ocean waves lapping on the sandy shore. Moments later the Signite ship followed, dispersing clouds of sand that drifted lazily across the beach. Soon the water would erase any evidence that they had ever landed.
* * *
Captain Hushob stared into the skies above. He watched as the ships shrank to tiny dots, intermingling with the stars of the night sky.
Far above him, sparks flew, bouncing against the ship’s hull as they fell. Brief flashes of light blanketed the beach like sheet lightning as fusing tools flared. The repair teams were pushing on furiously to replace the damaged outer hull plating. They were working against time itself. Hundreds of meters above, suspended on tethered lines, they were hanging precariously, struggling with heavy tools and unwieldy materials. He watched as a large section of replacement plating slipped and almost fell. Hushob hissed a small Showmish prayer under his breath.
They were good Showmish, all of them. Most had been enslaved and they bore the scars deeply. Now they had a chance, albeit a remote chance, for freedom. They would rather fight and die than continue on surviving as slaves - and they were not alone. Countless Signites had appeared during the day and offered to join their small force. They all seemed to share in the same insane belief. That is the very seed that continued to drive them now, slugging on at the brink of exhaustion.
He thought about the Earthman, their elected Commander. There is something about him. It is more than one thing really. What could he ask of a leader? Make the right decisions. Take the risks when it was time, and above all - win.
No.
He and his brothers expected only one thing from the Earthman – an opportunity to fight, to live free, and to die well. If they had even a remote chance of succeeding, that was already beyond what they could hope for. Ironically, the Earthman had done the impossible already - multiple times it seemed. But it would be arrogant to assume one could actually defeat this enemy.
Far above the lone Showmish captain, two starships turned from Signus and headed for Xeronia, jumping into acroluc, their speed increasing exponentially, the Dancing Queen leading the way.
Her captain knew the trip would take some time, but he could use it to make plans, possibly take advantage of the precious moments with a certain Signite woman. Time was precious.
They were beginning a war, and people died in wars.
* * *
12. Confrontation
T he return trip to Xilo was painfully long. The cruiser Bzak had crept through space with one of its main burners out of commission for almost a full zanii. The crew was miserable and Zorlog did not help matters. They were tired of his constant drills and repetitious persecution. Zorlog blamed all of them personally for the failure at Signus, and they were paying for it every sadii. After the encounter with the alien ship, everybody went on double shifts. Even the officers were run ragged as they tried to measure up to Zorlog's standard. But it was the Txtians that suffered the worst of all. The Karvok's prejudice was all too evident. When the ship came upon Xilo's remote navigation transmitter, the whole crew breathed a sigh of relief.
A collection of long-range port guides had arrived to put the cruiser in tow shortly after they passed the markers. After that, the news could not be contained. The port guides, under military jurisdiction, had reported back directly to the Seven Karvoks of Domination. The unsettling news had trickled down to the ears of the common citizen. It was treated as a joke, to the detriment of the Xi-military, and obviously, Zorlog.
The Seven Karvoks did not find this humorous, nor did their officers. None liked Zorlog, but they all knew his cunning and respected his abilities in a battle. They could only wonder what had happened at the Signus system.
Zorlog’s fate hung in the balance. The Emperor was known for his lack of patience. A reprisal was due.
Zorlog was on the bridge when the order came over - he was to report to the Emperor as soon as he arrived. He laughed a dry, cold, seething laugh - a kind of insidious, almost insane response. Indeed, his crew watched him intently as they had weathered too many sadii of his wrath. The Zuvok's laughter was not misplaced, however, only misunderstood.
The Xilozak Avok who announced the news was put on indefinite waste recycling duty. That did little to soothe Zorlog’s damaged ego. As each sadii passed, and the Bzak drew closer to Xilo, Zorlog could not bear the waiting. He walked the corridors, unable to rest, his mind spinning with details of which he alone knew. They were incredible details, outlining plans that would
unfold and bring the Xi-Empire to a grinding halt.
All his grand ambitions seemed diminutive the day the Bzak arrived at Tikonda Station, the main docking base orbiting Xilo.
The images from the tracing scans twisted his gut into painful knots. Ships of all kinds, too innumerable to count, were awaiting the Bzak's arrival. Gawkers, all wanting to see what had been done to the most powerful class of warship ever built. Zorlog spit razum on the deck. A filthy habit, but it calmed his nerves, albeit temporarily.
There was a deathly quiet on the bridge. More than one Avok would have liked to have distanced himself from this moment, but their Zuvok had insisted that all Avoks be at their posts during docking maneuvers. No exceptions.
Zorlog barked out orders with an automatic precision, barely paying attention, his mind reeling with rage. The gigantic cruiser finally came to rest within the grapples of Tikonda Station's mooring couplers.
With a brief salute, he relieved the bridge to his Charvok and wasted no time leaving the ship. Not surprisingly, the Karvok aides of the Xi-fleet were present at the end of the relay tube. He brushed past them, ignoring their questions - and their comments. The shuttle was empty, with the exception of its pilot. The trip down was quick and for a few bare moments, peaceful. It gave him time to assemble himself.
A jarring thud announced their arrival. The ramp lowered unceremoniously onto the hardened tarmac of Xilo's main spaceport. Again, there was an armed escort ready to welcome him. They were wise enough, however, to maintain a healthy distance from him, and none dared to request his weapons. After all, he still retained the full authority of Karvok. That title could be revoked only by the Emperor himself.
He found, as before, the streets of Zenux were hot and dusty. They marched into the sprawling city. Its citizens, both Xilozak and Txtian stopped to watch him pass. He could feel their stares, could hear the hushed muttering. It ate at him, like a dull-toothed parasite gnawing on an open, festering wound. A drunken trooper staggered out of one of the local drinking establishments and almost collided with Zorlog. His eyes went wide with recognition, and he muttered a slur that one would expect of a fool.
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