by Ashley West
Even when they were out amongst the humans they seemed put together and self possessed. They were strangers in a strange world, no matter how much time had passed, and she'd never seen even one of them bat so much as an eye at the situation.
But now they were like an ant mound, scurrying around in obvious agitation.
It made her heart beat faster in her chest at the thought that they might not win this. And if they couldn't, then the humans didn't stand a chance.
It was a sobering thought, really. What would the Platoks do to them? The Calphesians had proven that nothing they could throw at them would really faze them. Their tech was more advanced, and even though humans had the benefit of numbers, the sheer strength of the Calphesians had cowed them.
Roxy's mind was spiraling when she felt someone touch her face and jumped hard, eyes wide. When she glanced up, Aedian was watching her, eyes confused and a little concerned.
"Are you alright?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.
Roxanne nodded. "Yeah. Fine. Just...thinking."
He nodded in return, looking like he understood how she felt, which was funny because Roxy believed that he did, even though just weeks ago she'd believed that Calphesians didn't have two spare brain cells to rub together. Now she was pinning her hopes on them. On him.
"You told your family?" he asked, and she could tell that it wasn't really a question.
"Yes," Roxanne replied. "I needed them to know so they could run."
Aedian frowned harder. "And you didn't run with them? Or did you come back to say goodbye? Humans and their sentiment."
It wasn't said nearly as derisively as it would have been before, and Roxy smiled a little, though it wobbled. "No, not sentiment, you big idiot. I'm not running."
Now he looked taken aback, and Roxy supposed that he hadn't been expecting her to say that. "What do you mean, you aren't running? You can't stay here."
"And why can't I?"
"Because it will not be safe," he said like it should be obvious, and it probably should have been. "You could get hurt."
"I didn't know you cared," Roxanne teased. "I'll be fine, though. What's going on here? Why so much movement?"
He looked like he wanted to argue more, and Roxanne sighed. She was tired of this conversation already. Why did people keep expecting her to run away?
"Roxanne," Aedian said softly, cupping her face again. "I do not want you to get hurt."
His honesty was startling, and she opened her mouth and then closed it again. "I'll be fine," she murmured after a moment. "But I'm not leaving, Aedian. Don't ask me to. I can't just...run. It doesn't feel right. It wouldn't be honorable of me."
Maybe putting it in terms he'd understand better would help.
Aedian still looked like he didn't want to give in, but instead of arguing more he just let out a long breath and looked at her. "When the fighting starts, you will stay inside. You will not come out until it's safe. Is that understood?"
And while a part of her bristled at the idea that he could give her orders, a bigger part of her was touched that he cared. So she nodded again, reaching up to curl her fingers around his wrist. "Yes."
"Good. The others are sending their humans away. And we are talking strategy. It won't be long now."
She'd known that, instinctively, but hearing the words said aloud in confirmation of her fears made her swallow hard.
For the second time in her life, the Earth was going to be under attack, and she was afraid of what the outcome might be this time
Chapter 12: On the Brink of War
Some hours later, Aedian watched as the transport shuttle was loaded up with the few humans who lived in the compound. They were all women, the life mates of champions, and they all looked fearful. They would be delivered to the nearest safe shelter full of their kind and then retrieved when it was over. Presumably.
He wondered what it would feel like if his own human was on that shuttle. If he was watching her face as it pulled off, wondering if he'd ever see her again. The feeling was strangely bad, and he supposed he didn't have to worry about that since he'd been saddled with the most stubborn human woman he'd ever come across.
She wasn't leaving. She wanted to stay with him. What was he supposed to make of that? Yes, things had been better between them, but there wasn't any love there, really. No reason why she couldn't use this chaos as an attempt to escape him.
No one would blame her, not her kind or his. It would be overlooked in light of the situation, and she could slip away and never have to deal with him or his kind again.
And yet she was staying.
Honor, she'd said. Probably trying to appeal to him so he wouldn't physically haul her onto the shuttle, and it had worked. He understood that, and understood that there was something dishonorable about running off when you really wanted to stay. When you wanted to see something through to the end, whatever it happened to be.
Still, honor aside, he was worried. What if she got hurt? What if he failed to protect her? There was no dishonor in that, but it still bothered him like a nagging insect buzzing around his head. He had images of her broken and bloody, of her screaming for him to help her and him not being able to get there in time, of the Platoks realizing that humans meant more to them than they could have ever imagined and using that against them. Anything could happen, and for once they were going into a battle that they weren't assured of the outcome of.
Against the Platoks at that, which was shameful.
Aedian huffed a breath through his nose and pulled his hair up. He didn't know how he knew that they would be coming very soon, but there was just a feeling in the air. A feeling of battle.
Roxanne came out of the bathroom and walked right to him, sliding her hands up his sides to his chest and then leaning into him.
"It will be soon," he murmured, stroking fingers over the softness of her hair. "You will stay in here."
"I know," she replied. "I'll be careful. You have to be careful, too, though."
He snorted. "Calphesians do not know the meaning of the word."
"That's not reassuring me at all, funnily enough. Kill them before they can kill you. Got it?"
Aedian nodded and tipped her face up, leaning down to meet her for a kiss. Even with everything that was happening, he still craved this. The soft press of her body against his, the way her mouth moved with his mouth, the soft sound of surprise on her lips. He'd call it a kiss for luck rather than a kiss that might mean goodbye. He wasn't ready to entertain that thought.
And then, a siren blared through the compound, shocking them both enough that they sprang apart. The wail filled the air, making sure that it was heard by anyone in earshot, cutting over the sound of the flurry of activity that surrounded the compound despite the late hour.
Roxanne looked at him, eyes wide. "Is that...?"
He nodded, already knowing. "They're here."
Or they would be very shortly. The siren meant that the first ship had been spotted in the sky, and that they only had maybe a few hours before the battle was upon them. It was time to come together. It was time to fight.
"Stay put," Aedian said firmly, and honestly, he didn't trust her to do as she was told. Humans were impulsive and did things that were ill advised, and even Roxanne wasn't immune to that.
He crossed to the door where his sword was leaning against the frame and let out a low breath, centering himself and letting the spirit of the battle fill him. He glanced at Roxanne who looked like she wanted to run after him and felt something else in his chest. He didn't have a name for it, but really, he didn't think he needed one.
"I'll return," he said softly, and she nodded, even though they both knew he couldn't promise that.
Knowing that if he stopped to kiss her again he wouldn't want to leave, Aedian swept out the door, letting it slide closed behind him. Once he was in the corridor, he paused, fingers hovering over the sensor pad. With a few quick swipes of his fingers, he locked the door from the outside.
Roxanne wouldn
't be able to get out from inside unless someone let her out, and a Platok wouldn't be able to undo the seal he'd put on the door. She'd be safe.
Nodding to himself resolutely, he squared his shoulders and followed the rest of his kind as they streamed out of the compound to prepare for the battle.
The area around their compound was mostly trees. They hadn't wanted to set up too close to human areas, preferring something more remote for their home.
The trees weren't going to help anything, but it was a defensible position, and hopefully they could keep the battle contained to this area and avoid involving any humans who had decided to stay or had been unable to leave in time.
It had been years since Aedian had seen so many of his kind in one place, all of them standing in clumps around the outside of the compound, heads tipped towards the sky, eyes searching.
He took his position, standing near the front with Shiia and Demos. They both glanced at him and nodded their heads, fists thumping over their hearts in the sign for comrades in battle. Aedian made the sign back. Whatever he thought of them, the three of them were the current champions of their people. They would be in this together.
It was probably the most silent that Aedian had ever heard his people. No one moved or spoke, all of them watching the sky. Up ahead, Prias was there, armed with his war axe and a blaster, hair pulled up and clad in leather. He was obviously prepared to fight, and Aedian was reminded that their head was the strongest in their cluster. And the other heads were there as well, similarly armed and armored, leading their clusters to join the ranks.
For the first time in ten years they all stood unified, Calphesians off of Calphas, standing strong to defend their new home and the people who had been there first.
It was a momentous moment, really, and Aedian was breathless for a second, just taking it in. When they'd first come to Earth, he'd been young and headstrong, and he'd entertained fantasies of killing humans and proving himself worthy. And now here he was ten years later, defending the very ones he'd dreamed of killing. It was funny how the meaning of honor changed as you aged, as you learned. How your priorities shifted. He thought of Roxanne and how angry she would be with him when she figured out that he'd locked her in, but if they both survived for her to be angry, he'd take whatever yelling rant she gave him and take it gladly.
"There," breathed one of the other heads into the silence, and they all turned to look where he was pointing, a ripple of horned heads turning and looking up.
And he was right, there was the nose of one of the Platok ships, coming down from the clouds.
Aedian didn't think he'd ever forget what those ships looked like. Long and streamlined, cylindrical and shaped like an old fashioned bullet. There was nothing subtle about it, but then, neither of their races could claim much subtlety.
Around him, his people gripped the hilts and handles of their weapons, watching as the ships followed one right after the other and lowered into the trees. It felt like it took hours for the last one to descend, though it was really probably only about forty-five minutes, but when the rumble of the ships faded away, leaving behind only the silence of the slowly lightening sky, the spell was broken.
Carefully Aedian and the rest of his cohorts spread out into their formation, forming their ranks and solidifying their lines. These were the same ranks they'd used when they were fighting before back on Calphas, the same lines and formations they'd assumed when they'd come to Earth.
Every warrior learned them, and fanning out into triangular groups, the strongest at the front and the rest spreading out in ever widening lines to push forward like arrow points into their enemy's defenses, was as easy as breathing.
Aedian's stance changed, shifting into one meant for strength, for holding his ground. One foot slightly in front of his body, the other sliding back to act as a brace, knees slightly bent, sword held loosely in both hands for the moment, ready to be brought up as soon as it was needed.
All around him, his comrades were doing the same, getting into their stances and the battle spirit was high. On one hand, it wasn't something to enjoy. Lives might be lost, and they were fighting for more than just themselves. On the other hand, though, it had been so long since any of them had fought in a real battle that there was a thrill of excitement. This was what they were built for. What they were made to do. And living on Earth had brought them peace and the occasional diversion in the form of a tournament every five years, but other than that, life was quiet and slow.
But this got his blood pumping, eagerness humming just under the surface of his skin. He was ready. They all were.
Of course, the Platoks made them wait. Long minutes ticked by and nothing happened. The trees stayed quiet, and nobody moved.
Then, out of the dark shadows of the thicket they had touched down in, a single Platok emerged. Somehow, Aedian thought that he'd forgotten how ugly they were. If Calphesians looked alien on this planet, the Platoks were downright monstrous. Their skin was a sickly shade of white-blue, cold and clammy looking, and around them hovered an odor like mildew. It made sense since their planet was perpetually damp, but it had been ten years since Aedian had been forced to smell it.
Their heads were overlarge, and their eyes were bulbous and white. Long spindly limbs supported them, and they wouldn't have been a threat at all if not for the scythes that protruded from their wrists under their hands, curved blades of bone over a foot long that were wickedly sharp and deadly.
Aedian had seen full Calphesian warriors cut in two because of those weapons, and every Platok had them.
He tightened his grip.
"Calphesians," the Platok said as it approached, mouth stretched in a grin. "How wonderful to see you again. Have you missed us?"
Prias spat in the dirt at the Platok's feet. "I'd sooner miss a hole in my head," he snarled.
"That can be arranged. But we have come here to make deal with you.
None of them seemed quite sure what to make of that, or even if they could trust the Platok's word. No one would put it past one of them to say one thing and then turn around and do the exact opposite.
"And what makes you think we would deal with you?" asked one of the other heads. "We despise you."
A cry of agreement went up from the assembled Calphesians, and the Platok sneered. "Because it is your only chance."
"Only chance for what?"
"Survival. It would be a shame for you to die on this rock. All we want are the humans. Our planet hasn't died and we have conquered many spaces. We just need slaves. And food."
Bile rose in Aedian's throat at that. He didn't know that the Platoks had turned to eating things like humans. He knew they hunted for meat, but there was something horrific about the idea of one of them eating a person.
“We refuse,” Prias said smoothly.
“That is very foolish.”
He scoffed. “Please. We have been putting you down like the filthy creatures you are for years. We do not fear you.”
Another chorus of agreeing cheers went up from the assembled Calphesians, and Aedian shifted in his stance, knowing it would be soon. The talk wasn’t going to get them anywhere, and there was only one thing that would decide this, and that was strength.
The Platok clicked its tongue and shook its head. “Things have changed. Are you sure you will not deal?”
Prias replied by spitting in the dirt again, and Aedian was pretty sure that was all that needed to be said on the matter. One by one, the other heads at the front of their formations spat in the dirt as well, and the Platok looked at each of them and then smiled. It was a gruesome thing to behold.
“So be it.”
He lifted his head to the sky and let out a shrill sound that made Aedian want to drop his sword and slam his hands over his ears. It was piercing and horrible and after a moment, it was echoed, the others in the trees taking up the cry.
All at once there were Platoks everywhere, over a hundred of them, surely, streaming out of the trees, arms
held up and bone blades glinting razor sharp in the weak morning light as the sun rose.
The Calphesians gave their own cry, a roar that shook them all to their cores and made them ready. As one, they lifted their weapons and rushed forward to meet the challenge, not backing down for a second.
It was easy for Aedian to throw himself into this fray. Fighting came naturally to him, and each swing of his sword was instinctive.
He used it to push back a Platok that swung its arm blade at his chest and then ran him through, sword cleaving easily through his thin body and then dropping him onto the ground where he was trampled by more Calphesians pressing forward.
It was clear that the Platoks weren’t any better at fighting than they had been years ago. They still made the same predictable moves, relying on their natural weapons to win them the battle when it also left them open for attack. Of course, they managed to wound quite a few Calphesians, but it wasn’t going to win them the battle.
For the first time in a long time, Aedian felt truly alive. He whirled with his sword in hand, he hacked and chopped at the enemy. He stabbed and parried and kicked with his feet, clearing a path around him for his comrades to rush into.
And rush they did. Calphesians always managed to work together, ducking under each other’s swings and moving into spaces that were cleared. They were often accused of being nothing more than brutes, but when it came down to it, they had a method all their own, and it was a method that had been putting the Platoks in their place for years.
Right there in the thick of it, it was easy to sense the tide of the battle. At first, they’d been wary. Determined, but wary. It had seemed ridiculous that the Platoks would come all this way to fight them without having something up their sleeves, but as they pushed the enemy back towards the trees and their ships, the general consensus seemed to be that they could do this. That they were going to come out of this triumphant.
Of course, that should have been a big tip off that things were not going to go the way they thought they were at all.
Chapter 13: How Does it Feel?