Once Upon a Saturn Moon

by Edward Antrobus

  "Yes, you've sent your men to their death. Now you are ordering me to send mine to be killed by yours." Donoon shouted. He went for Marsil's weapon.

  Years of fighting and practice honed her reflexes to react in a split second. She batted his arm away as she pulled out the weapon herself and pushed him down with it. "Now, you will do as I say," she said through clenched teeth.

  "Marsil, no," Salaris cried. She reached out for Marsil's weapon but Marsil held her off with her other arm.

  "I've spent my entire life fighting Barakaaks while my people have died on this dying moon. You risked your life because your faith wouldn't allow Vaamick to pervert it. Innocents are at risk. Innocents who have the recourses to help us if only we can end the fighting. I'm not going to let any of you stop me from saving our people." Her eyes went back and forth between Donoon on the ground and Salaris at the end of her arm, daring either of them to defy her.

  Graaf cleared his throat. "What if nobody has to die?"

  "What?" Marsil turned. She let go of Salaris who collapsed at the sudden shift. She kept her knee on Donoon's chest.

  Salaris dusted herself off as she shot Marsil an angry look.

  "We have non-lethal weapons. We could use them. We used to be a peaceful race, if you recall." Graaf explained.

  "They won't be using non-lethal weapons on us," Marsil countered.

  "Maybe not, but the only way to stop the violence is for somebody to put their foot down." He shook his head and reached out for Marsil's weapon. "I'm putting my foot down."

  She looked at him. He continued to hold his hand out, flexing his fingers in a "hand it over" gesture.

  Marsil dropped her head. She handed the stunner to him. He put it in his pocket and pulled her up off Donoon.

  Graaf held out his other hand to Donoon, but he refused it. "I've known Jeef a long time. I think he will agree to non-lethal weapons if we do give him one thing. One thing that he wants very much."

  "What is that?" Donoon asked suspiciously. "I told you, I'm not going to put my friends in harm's way."

  "How about your uncle?" Graaf smiled a half smile.

  "I wanted to kill him," Donoon said. He pursed his lips.

  "Get in line. Half of Bara wants to," Marsil said.

  Donoon opened his mouth but Graaf interrupted him. "As tactlessly as Marsil said it, she has a point. You aren't the only one he's wronged and there would be more than a few volunteers to take care of it, given the chance. Is getting your vengeance worth risking your friend's lives in a battle?"

  Donoon was silent. Salaris touched his arm. "It makes sense. We can protect Lomis and the others, protect the humans, and end this war. Isn't that a path worth taking?"

  "Fine," he said. "If Jeef will agree to use stun weapons against the Barakaak soldiers, I will lead him right to the humans' ship."

  Graaf nodded. He turned to Marsil. "Remember, we all have the same goals here. Antagonizing our few allies will only achieve fewer allies."

  Marsil shook her head. "I still don't know about this plan."

  "At this point, it is the only plan we've got." Graaf held her hands as he stared into her eyes. "If we don't act, Vaamick wins. But those blindly following him aren't our enemy, just as these two aren't our enemy. Jeef wants Vaamick gone; he'll agree to it." He gave her a brief kiss before pulling away.

  "Okay. Well, let's give my dad a call, shall we?"

  Donoon's eyes grew large. Marsil chuckled inwardly. Salaris hadn't dropped that bombshell on him. "You aren't the only person with a complicated family," she told him and winked.

  She pulled the device up to her face and pressed the talk button. "Pick up your communicator. We need to talk."

  There was a pause and then, "Marsil. How are you doing this?"

  "Graaf rigged up a Barakaak radio. But that doesn't matter, we need to talk," Marsil said.

  "No, we don't. You've gone too far this time. Where ever you are, you should stay away," Jeef warned her. "I won't be able to protect you if you come back to Saar. You almost killed K--. Wait, Barakaak radio. Are you alright?"

  "Yes, we are. Salaris is with us and we found her fiancée, Donoon. He has information about Vaamick that you will want to listen to," she said. She handed the radio to him.

  "Hello?" Donoon said. "I'm not sure how to address the person who was my mortal enemy until a few minutes ago."

  "You will address me as, your majesty. I am your king," Jeef replied.

  "You aren't my king. You killed my grandmother." He gripped the radio tighter, threatening to crush the exposed electronics.

  "Careful," Graaf warned. He put his hand up. Donoon took a breath and relaxed his grip.

  "Yes," Jeef's voice cracked. "Salaris told me when Marsil brought her to me. I am sorry for that. Lis was friends with my wife. I never meant for her to get involved in my and Vaamick's feud." Jeef paused. Donoon looked lost.

  Not every day that your enemy apologizes to you, Marsil mused.

  Jeef continued. "You said you have information on Vaamick. I'm guessing he went too far just like I did."

  Donoon nodded. He seemed to realize his mistake and looked down. "Yes. Marsil was right. Vaamick doesn't care about Earth. He just wants its resources to be able to build the weapons he's had designed to kill you and anyone who stands in his way. Make no mistake, if the humans fall, so do you."

  "Okay," Jeef answered. "What am I supposed to do? Our armies have been fighting for close to two Saturn-years."

  "No, not our armies. I'll tell you the positions of the Barakaak troops but only if you promise to use stunners," Donoon said.

  "Stunners? The Barakaaks won't be firing back at my people with stunners. Why would I agree to that?" Anger started creeping into his voice.

  "Because in return, I will give you the exact position of Vaamick. Both sides have made mistakes in this war, but I'm going to give you the chance to end it and give you the revenge you seek."

  Jeef didn't respond. Marsil looked at Donoon. "You didn't break it, did you?"

  "No, I didn't break it," he answered. "Jeef must have decided he wasn't going to help."

  The radio broke in. "This ends tonight."

  Alvin

  "Mr. Smith. You can't really think that I would believe that the enemy lived among you for two months and you knew so little about him." Johns stood over Alvin's bed.

  "Believe whatever you like, Major. I thought there was something off about him but believed me. He didn't want to talk about his past and we didn't push." Alvin wished it was time for his pain medication. All of this talking was making his face hurt, although the swelling had gone down a bit since yesterday and Sandra told him he didn't look quite so horribly disfigured any more.

  Johns shook his head. "The rest of your crew is sloppy, but I checked your ship's logs. You snuck in to see the enemy and the next day you found the entrance to their city on a hunch. You were out of radio contact for twenty minutes the day you found it. That is all supposed to be a coincidence?"

  "Are you insinuating that I'm a traitor to my own species?" Alvin tried to push himself up.

  Johns pushed him back to the bed. The major leaned in close. "I'm insinuating nothing. I'm accusing you of being a traitor to your species."

  Alvin struggled against the man who was now the de facto head of their mission. "You're crazy. I'm on your side. If I was some alien sympathizer, why would I have warned you about the attack and almost get my skull crushed in the process?"

  "You would have had to make it look real," Johns answered.

  "You're crazy. If you weren't so busy trying to get me to admit to helping Sam, maybe you would have found him by now," Alvin said.

  "I'll try again later. Maybe you will be more receptive. Until then, consider yourself in the custody of the U.S. Marines."

  Johns turned to leave.

  "What?" Alvin blinked. "You're just going to lock me up while you get your men killed facing an enemy you barely know anything about?"

  The Major turned bac
k around. "We wouldn't be so blind if you would just cooperate," he thundered.

  "I am cooperating. I've told you everything I can. What about Sandra and Lana? What are you going to do to them?"

  "Don't worry, Mr. Smith. They will be safe. All civilian crew will be locked down in the Ambassador's suite. It's the safest place on this moon."

  Alvin exhaled. "And where are you taking me?"

  "You will be with them," Johns explained. "I'll need my doctor with me." He pulled out his radio. "Clarke, meet me in Medical. It's time to transfer your patient to Dr. O'Brien's care."

  Clarke entered and the two marines conferred for a moment before the Major left. The doctor reviewed Alvin's charts and said, "You will need a few days to heal, dude, but otherwise you're fine. I don't have any problem releasing you from care, since you'll be in such close quarters with a doctor."

  "You know she's a biologist right? Not a medical doctor like you," Alvin said.

  "Well, you don't really need a doctor, just a nurse. She already played that role for your alien," Clarke replied.

  "So that's it. You think this is a good idea? You're just going to go along and let that Major get you killed?"

  Clarke stayed tight-lipped. Instead of answering, he pulled out a folding wheel chair. "Come on, I'll take you to the others."

  Clarke wheeled Alvin to the ambassador's suite where they met Simmons and one of the goons who had followed Johns onto the Atlas when this mess had started. Alvin couldn't remember the name and had to read the tag on the uniform. Franklin. Alvin wondered if he could take him. It was doubtful. Alvin suspected the only reason he dropped Simmons was because of the element of surprise. He couldn't take all three of them.

  "Major Johns has assigned Simmons and Franklin to guard the Hab in case the aliens give us the ol' sliperoni and try to attack you again. These guys won't let any baddies get in," Clarke told him.

  "More like they are here to keep us from getting out where we might actually do some good," Alvin replied.

  Clarke just shrugged and nodded to Simmons. Simmons gave Alvin an odd look like he couldn't decide to let him in or just finish what Sam had started. He turned and opened the door.

  "Well, I better get going. Can't wait to frag me some aliens." Clarke smiled and left. Alvin blinked. Had the man just missed the entire confrontation? Did he even care?

  He sighed and wheeled himself into the room. As soon as he had passed the threshold, the door closed behind him. He heard the lock click.

  Sandra rushed over to his side and hugged him as delicately as she could. "Are you okay, Alvin? What's going on?"

  "I'm fine. I need some more of that pain medication, but otherwise I'll live. It looks like we are prisoners until this thing is over. But they haven't seen that tunnel. There are a million places to get ambushed. I think the only reason I made it out okay was because they wanted me to."

  Sandra pushed his wheelchair over to the center of the room where Lana and the civilians from the Prometheus where waiting.

  Alvin continued his rant. "Major Johns didn't want to hear that. He just wanted intelligence I didn't have. And now they've made us all prisoners. They've mutinied, I tell you."

  "Unfortunately, Major Johns is quite within his rights," Cynthia spoke up. "In the event of an attack on an embassy, the Marines have complete control until the threat has passed. I don't agree with him, but he is in control right now."

  "Well, he's going to get his men killed."

  "What are you going to do," Jerry asked him.

  "I don't know. I don't want more people to die needlessly, but what am I supposed to do? I'm not in charge. That's you guys. I'm just a botanist. One who is badly in need of some more pain meds and a nap. It can be somebody else's turn to save the world." Alvin slumped in the wheelchair. "Now, Lana, can I please have some more oxy. I probably shouldn't be doing this much talking with my face."

  Lana looked like she was going to say something but looked down. "Okay, let's get you your pill. I'm pretty sure Clarke left them over here somewhere.

  Alvin pushed himself over to where a row of cots had been lined up near a wall. There were more cots on this side of the room than there were through the open doorway leading into Cynthia's bedroom. Alvin guessed that meant that the men would be bunking over here. He sat down on a cot and Lana brought him his medication. She started to talk, but Alvin just held out his hand. He was done being the hero. He hurt and was hurting. He wanted it all to just go away.

  Lana sighed and gave him the pill. He swallowed it dry and lied down. He looked over at Sandra who was looking at him with a worried expression but blew him a kiss. He went to sleep.

  Alvin awoke to arguing. "They killed Tom. Every one of them deserves to die," Lana said as she folded her arms.

  "Killing only begets more killing. We should leave until we can find a peaceful solution," Cynthia responded.

  "I'm not getting shot at again. I'm leaving this rock with or without you," Jerry added to the mix.

  "Come on, Captain. You can't be serious. You want to run away?" That must have been one of the Prometheus crew.

  "Alvin almost got killed. I just want to get him home where he will be safe," Sandra said. She looked over to where he was lying and noticed he was awake. "Alvin, did we wake you?"

  "No, I don't think so. Just needed some rest was all. What's going on?"

  "We seem to be at an impasse," Cynthia told him. "We have been debating our options and have a tie. I'm afraid you will need to be the deciding vote."

  "I told you, I'm not in charge. You, you, and you," he said, pointing at Cynthia, Jerry, and Lana in turn, "are the leaders. I'm just a botanist who wanted to pick some flowers on another planet."

  "This is too important a decision to be made by fiat," Cynthia answered. We are way off script here, and even NASA seems to be unsure of what to do. We have to put it to a vote."

  Simmons opened the door and the conversation halted. He pushed a tray with food into the room. "You guys might want to know that we can hear you perfectly outside. You aren't leaving and you aren't helping. You are staying put until the Major deems it safe."

  "And what if the Major gets himself killed?" Alvin asked.

  Simmons glared at him but answered him. "If that happens, then you can resume your argument. I don't agree with the Major, but I'm not going to disobey orders. And Franklin out there, he really isn't going to disobey orders."

  He turned to leave but Alvin spoke up. "Corporal, I would like to apologize for my actions the other day. They were uncalled for."

  Simmons stopped and turned back around. "That was a hell of a punch. Not many can get the drop on me. Never expected it from a scrawny, white dude. Look, I'm sorry too. I knew Sandra was with you. Just had to make it look good for the guys. You understand, right?"

  Alvin nodded, and held out his hand. Simmons shook it. "Where'd you learn how to fight like that anyway?"

  Simmons radio chirped. "I've sighted a group of aliens on camera two," Franklin said.

  "Shoot them," Lana shouted. She grabbed for the radio on his belt. Simmons stopped her and held her at bay. He plucked the radio and responded, "Open the door, I'm coming out."

  "Wait, Corporal," Cynthia said. "What are they doing? Are they armed or otherwise doing something that would require a military solution?"

  "Franklin, the ambassador wants to know if they are armed," Simmons relayed over the radio.

  "Tough to tell. Not showing, but they are waving a white flag," Franklin answered.

  "They are aliens," Lana yelled. "That could mean anything. Maybe they are signaling their intent to attack. Just shoot them."

  Alvin shook his head. "No, Sam always seemed to know a little bit more than he should have about our ways. I think they've been spying on us a long time. They know exactly what a white flag means. The question should really be: Are they trying to trick us again?"

  "Corporal, if they are here under a flag of truce, we must abide by that," Cynthia said. "The only wa
y to peace is to attempt to be peaceful."

  "Those aren't our orders, ma'am," Simmons responded. "No one in or out unless the Major okays it." He lifted the radio back to his mouth. "Have you been able to reach Major Johns?"

  The door opened and Franklin stuck his head in. "Negative. They must be out of range. Those guys are going to be on our door any minute now. What we going to do?"

  Cynthia tried again. "Please, Corporal. I know what your orders are, but they failed to account for this scenario. Under attack, the military may have command, but for a diplomatic attempt, I am in charge."

  Simmons mulled it over and sighed. "Okay, but if we are going to do this, we need to do this right. You can communicate, but only from behind a barricade."

  "Your security precautions are fine, Mr. Simmons. Thank you," Cynthia said.

  Alvin and the others followed Cynthia out of her suite. Franklin and Simmons had stacked tables on their side in the area just off the air lock. Alvin could see the scorch marks from the previous attack. If they held up against one attack, they should hold up against another seemed to be the reasoning of the two marines.

  The microphone for the exterior speaker sat next to the tables. "Well, here goes nothing," she said. She picked up the mic and spoke in Titan to their visitors. "I am here for humans. If you are peace, no weapons and be search. No harm if you don't attack."

  Alvin glanced at Lana. She shrugged. He hadn't kept up with his language studies as well as he could, but Cynthia's speech was awful.

  They watched the air lock monitor from behind their barricade. The three aliens seemed to be arguing amongst themselves, no doubt debating whether to comply.

  The male of the group set some sort of baton on the ground. The younger woman dropped another and a riffle similar to the one that Sam had used in his attack.

  The older woman stared at them with her arms crossed. The man said something and she dropped her head. She put down the rifle slung over her shoulder, two batons, and a few more weapons that Alvin couldn't identify.

  Franklin and Simmons left the air lock. Simmons stayed back and aimed his rifle at the aliens. Franklin trotted up to them and patted them down for weapons. Satisfied, he led them back to the air lock. Simmons joined them and they came inside.