by Mark Tufo
First things first though, I suppose. We were knee deep in enemy territory and I didn’t have the remotest clue on what to do. Communicating quickly was going to be difficult considering none of them spoke English. If Dee had been hit by that shot instead of the guard, besides losing my best friend, (which would have been horrible in its own right) I would have been trying to communicate complex battle plans with hand gestures and who knew if they would pay attention to me at all. The whole thing could have fallen apart right there and then. If I made it through the day, I was going to have Dee teach me how to speak his language. I wondered where I was going to find rocks that felt comfortable in my mouth.
For ease of writing in my journal or at least until I learn alien-speak, Tracy or Travis or whoever ends up reading this please realize that all communication still had to go through Dee. It’s just easier to write it as thus.
“How many Devastators are on this ship?” I asked.
“Michael, I have already told you.”
“Yeah, I just didn’t like that answer. I was hoping if I asked again you might change it.”
“Please do not pass too many of your traits on to your son.”
“That’s actually pretty good. Okay, so there’s just somewhere south of five hundred Mutes after the Breachers were destroyed and only a couple hundred Genos. How many Progerians again?”
“Are you just not listening?”
I shook my head as Dee did his version of a sigh. It was fairly comical to see those huge shoulders sag.
“Best guess from my brethren is eight or nine hundred.”
“What a strange displacement.”
“This ship is designed to destroy from space or air, not ground. There is a lot of need to pilot the fighters and control this ship, including mechanics. The Devastators are used primarily for breaching and the Genogerians are here to do all the distasteful and dangerous jobs.”
“Who knew the term ‘illegal alien’ would travel the star ways.”
“The Julipion, and ships like it, can patrol space for up to twenty years at a time, hence the need for so much personnel. When they discover a habitable planet they are merely there to enforce first rights.”
“Yeah, I’ll say. I just don’t get why the scout ships wouldn’t be smaller and faster. It seems like such a drain on resources to carry around that many beings everywhere.”
“Many years ago it was like that but the cosmos are more populated than your people are willing to believe. When the Progerians realized their ships were being followed and the subsequent discoveries seized, they began to assemble Planet-Class Scout ships that could sustain themselves while also repelling nearly any attack. A scout ship is its own occupation force and colonization populace.”
“A giant planted flag.”
“Basically. The Battle Cruisers are built to beat a planet into submission, offering the necessary air support that the Julipion does not have.”
“Why though? Why not make the scout ship an all-encompassing dirge? Not that I mind because it gave us more time to prepare but it doesn’t make much sense from a tactical stand point.”
“How many highly qualified pilots are in your populace?”
“Oh, I get it.”
“There is still a need to protect our own home world and the Progerians can ill-afford to have these skilled pilots gone for two decades. Whereas the supply of ground troops is nearly limitless.”
“So why not send them off? I’d really like to meet whoever is threatening the Progerians. You know, the whole “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” thing.”
“The God-less are no one’s friend. The Stryvers would turn on you the moment they encountered your kind. It is more likely you and the Progerians would strike an agreement against them.”
“Holy shit! That is not a world I want to live on.”
“And apparently neither do I or any of them. Now what, Michael Talbot? Your people await.”
I looked over the growing number of Genogerians. Well, that’s not necessarily true—I didn’t really have a vantage point that I could look over them—but I could tell from the press that more were coming.
“Well, the bridge is as good a place as any.”
“No,” the Geno nearest me replied.
I’ll be honest. I was thinking that I was about to die as the shortest rebellion ever recorded came to a halting conclusion.
“The bridge will be heavily guarded by Devastator troops and we do not have the numbers to win a sustained battle.”
I eyed the brute, for what I don’t know. Maybe I was looking for a sign of cowardice, although they had as much penchant for that as they did for lying.
“What about the nerve center?” Dee asked.
“Yeah, what he said. What the hell is the nerve center?” I asked, turning back to Dee.
“It is the junction spot for all the controls throughout the ship. It is housed as deep as it can be in an effort to protect it against damage in battle,” Dee informed me.
“Is it guarded?” I asked my new hesitant friend.
The Progerians were more concerned with their personal safety, which made sense considering all I knew about them. What fear to their equipment did they have from two subservient sub-species that would have no access to it?
“Yes, but lightly. First I will need to gain a way to enter. I will need an access...(he struggled with the next word) card.” That is how it was loosely, and I mean loosely, translated. I’ll explain later. The Genogerian passed me by and went into the shuttle ship. He came out a minute or so later, I guess having found what he was looking for.
“Well lead on, Geronimo.”
“My name is Trill.”
“You had to tell him that last part?” I asked Dee. He’d told him about the Geronimo piece.
He was once again wearing a smile.
“Yeah, you’re really a funny bastard. When we get home I’m going to tell Tracy you would like to change one of Travis’s diapers.”
Sheer terror rippled across Dee’s face so much so that the Genos closest to us picked up on it, their jaws dropping in sympathetic stress. There was something about baby crap that scared the living hell out of him and I liked to tease him to no end about it. I was no fan of the stinky things myself but Dee had some sort of phobia in regards to it. I’d yet to test it on any others of his kind but it might be worth looking into. Who knows? Maybe the fear was part of their genetic make-up. We could possibly end this whole war with just a few strategically placed shitty diapers.
“I am deeply sorry that I have offended you,” Dee said with a nod. The even funnier part was he meant it.
“I’ll let it slide this time.”
He looked relieved.
“Lead the way, Trill,” I said as we made a path through the Genogerians so we could get out in front. The Genos were funny; they crowded close to get a look at Dee as he approached but backed up when they realized there was some little being by their feet. I felt like a mouse among a bunch of scared housewives. Sure they were scared, but being the mouse was no bargain either.
For all that had happened on this ship thus far I was in shock that alarms weren’t going off. We’d breached the hull and had a small but intense skirmish in a hallway. Now I was leading a rebellion, yet everything seemed relatively calm even if a war was being waged inside and out.
“You are not supposed to be here Geno-scum!” shouted one of the Devastators as Trill and a couple others rounded the corner.
“Pecking order even among the dregs. Makes sense, though. No one wants to be low man on the totem pole, no matter how tall the damned thing is.”
“Do you talk merely for the sake of pushing airwaves?” Dee asked.
I wondered if the Mutes understood the dig, but I did remain quiet while we waited to see how Trill’s plan worked out.
“At least I am not altered from a lab,” Trill taunted.
“Altered? I am enhanced! I am superior to you and your worthless kind in every way!” the Deva
stator’s voice boomed.
“You are an abomination to all manner of living things,” Trill replied.
I was concerned for Trill’s well-being and was pretty sure he’d ruffled enough feathers to get a violent response. So when I heard heavy footfalls, it came as no surprise. Trill ran past our junction spot, his three possibly dumber than brave new enemies quickly in tow. The floor vibrated as the heavier and larger Mutes pursued. So focused on the pursuit they had nearly passed up our ambush before even noticing us. I know Dee would have preferred a peaceful solution but they were the Genogerian equivalent of Durgan.
I didn’t feel bad for Durgan when I killed him and I sure as hell didn’t care when I pulled the trigger repeatedly as the Mutes ran past. Blood sprayed across my face and down my throat as I yelled. I nailed one Mute across the thigh. The shot traveled deep enough that white bone was exposed for a moment before blood and tissue moved back into place. The smell of burnt skin dominated the small enclosure. As the Mute tried pivoting to get at me, I shot him in an approximation of where I figured his belly button should be. The bolt sliced along the front of his stomach, ribbons of intestines falling to the ground as his external casing was cut open. Still he had only one thought in mind, which was to get to me. He might possibly have succeeded if his legs hadn’t gotten tangled up. My third shot blew open the top of his skull as he thudded to the ground no more than a foot or so away.
The two to his side suffered similar fates, though only one of them by my hand. I’d been so intent on killing the one I’d been shooting at that I nearly joined him as I stepped out into the open. A red bolt nearly separated my nose from the rest of me. It was so close I could literally smell the heat as it blazed by. My eyes must have been the same angry red as the discharge, because when I turned to look, the Mute paused for a moment. In reflection it probably had more to do with what he was looking at. Odds were huge he’d never seen a human before. I heard Dee shout “NO!” I raced towards the brutish guard anyway, my gun firing wildly as I ran. Bolts blew all around him, even a few into him. I may have surprised the guard but he was no fool; he was matching me shot for shot. The only advantages I had was that I’d hit him early on and with me being so much smaller, I was a difficult target.
The Mute’s head had no sooner hit the deck than the alarm sounded.
“Fool!” Dee shouted, coming up behind me.
I figured he was angry because I’d somehow set off the alarm.
“How will I ever tell your mate if you were to die on this ship?”
Trill had turned back, caught up and passed us just as I was about to tell Dee I was all right.
“We must hurry before they seal the access!” He kept running.
I was expecting some giant door to come slamming down and we were going to have to do some cool Indiana Jones sliding type stuff just before the door tried to crush my skull. Now that I’m really thinking about it, it sounds way cooler watching it on the big screen, rather than potentially living it. Trill hit something on the wall and a small panel slid down. Without a ladder and a personal jet pack I could not get high enough to see what was there. Best I could figure was a slot for the security card. At least that was what I thought right up until he pulled out an eyeball still attached to about a foot long section of optic nerve. Can’t tell you how happy I was that it’d been a few hours since I’d last eaten.
When the hell was that? Breakfast with Tracy and Travis on Earth seemed about a month ago. I was expecting to see blue laser lines as Trill held the eyeball up.
“Retina scan,” Dee elaborated.
“Yeah I got that. Where’s the laser beams? Should I ask where he got it? Forget it. Knowing your species’ propensity for violence, why wouldn’t the designers of that security device somehow make sure that the eye it is scanning is attached to a living body?”
“I could ask the same of your security designers. And there are no lasers Michael, why would anyone want to have a laser shot into their eye?”
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s true.”
“It is an unspeakable thing for a Genogerian to commit a crime against a Progerian. It just doesn’t happen.”
“Well at least not without a little prodding. I’m still amazed the Progerians are still as clueless as to just how willing the Genogerians are to rebel.”
“My former masters are only concerned with my former masters. The hunt for more resources along with fending off the Stryvers leaves little time for other distractions.”
There was a low humming and then a foot thick blast door rose up into the ceiling. Trill ushered us in and I quickly stepped over the threshold. If that thing came down as fast as it went up it would get messy soon.
“Even Indy wouldn’t fuck with that,” I mumbled.
“What, Michael?” Dee asked.
“Nothing. Holy shit,” I said as I looked at the room. It was huge, like the size of a decent super market, and it glowed in a variety of iridescent colors, from violet, blue, yellow, red, orange and green. What looked like servers lined one whole wall. Cables as thick as my thigh were running along the ceiling like streets on a map. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck beginning to stand from all the juice that was flowing around this place. There were some video screens and work stations near us as we entered.
“This place runs the ship?” I asked Trill.
“It is the bridge that runs the ship but everything comes through here.”
“Can they re-route past this?”
“Re-route?”
“The Earth Champion wishes to know if we disable functions here is there any other way our former masters can restore functionality.”
“The way I said it was easier.”
“The way I said it will get a response.”
“No,” Trill answered. “There is no other way.”
“Do you know how to take the weapons system offline?” I asked. It was worth a shot, but the fact that Trill knew as much about this place as he did was already a bonus. There was no way he would have that sort of technical expertise.
“I do not.”
“Michael, the smell of it is coming off of you in waves…you cannot just randomly shoot up this room. There is a possibility you could permanently cut off life support.”
My first response would have been, “Awesome”. Then I realized Dee and I were still here. I still had no great love for other Genos, Mutes and especially Progs.
“Now what? Because we’ve already burned through a lot of time and we need to help out the Guardian and get off this bucket. There might only be one way in but that means there’s only one way out and I really don’t want to be trapped in here.”
Dee went over to look at the markings on the monitors and panels. A small murmur went up among the Genos.
“What’s got them all excited?” I asked, coming alongside.
“It is unusual that one of my kind can read.”
“Oh, I could agree with that assessment. It’s kind of like going to the zoo and seeing an elephant open up type. Can you imagine the reaction that would get?”
“I used to think you were funny,” Dee said as he sat.
Chapter Six - Paul
“We cannot take too many more hits like that.” Iserwan had just righted himself in his chair.
“What is Mike up to? Whatever it is he’d better do it soon.” Paul was wiping the blood off the side of his head where he’d struck the corner of the station he was trying to hold onto. He extended his hand to help Beth up. She had a trickle of blood coming from her mouth where she’d bit her lip.
“Do you think he’s still alive?”
Paul really had no idea because he’d lost sight of the Breacher that Mike had hijacked. He’d put the word out to his fighters to not attack, but even all those eyes in the sky had lost sight in the maelstrom. As more and more of the Guardian fighters fell to the superior firepower of the Battle Cruiser, the heavily armed ship was able to divert more armament the Guardian’s way. At this point they wer
e trading punch for punch at a rate at which the Guardian would not be able to sustain for very much longer.
“General, I suggest we engage the buckle drive,” Iserwan stated.
Paul knew that to do so would leave the fighters and Mike at the mercy of the Battle Cruiser and last he’d checked that ship had been mighty low on that particular trait.
“Can we recall the fighters?”
“There won’t be enough time and they are all that stands between us and the Cruiser following immediately. If we depart now we may have a chance to escape.”
“What of Earth? Should we leave it to its own devices as well?” Paul spun, looking at the ship’s commander.
“We will do no one any good if we are strewn about this galaxy.”
“Five minutes Iserwan, just give it five minutes more.”
“What will change, General?”
“It’s just something Mike told me once. He said if you are waiting for something and have finally come to the point that you will wait no longer, add five minutes from there. Something about you being able to pick up on the universe aligning itself. More times than not what you are waiting for will come to pass in that time frame. Personally, I think he’s smoked too much pot but damned if it doesn’t work.”
Four minutes and three barrages later, damage reports began to flood in from all areas of the ship. A fair portion of the structure was on fire or exposed to the hostile elements of deep space. Paul was rapidly losing faith in Mike’s assumptions.
“Iserwan. Time?” Paul asked. The Commander had been marking time for the departure.
“Four minutes, twenty-four seconds.”