by Justin Sloan
Jilla ignored him. “Daschle, I seem to remember you have a taste for gambling, and you’re damn good at it.”
Daschle shrugged, but Kalan caught a sparkle in the Skulla’s eyes. Clearly he was intrigued enough to find out where this was going. “You’re not wrong, but what’s that have to do with anything?”
“How about we make a little wager? Kalan takes on the robot. He has one minute to take it down, like the recruits did. If he fails, we’ll go back to our ship and fly out of here, and you can tell your boss you got rid of us. But if he wins, you have to get Talrok to talk with us today.”
There was a long pause before Daschle came back, “Thirty seconds. If we reduce the time from a minute to thirty seconds, you’ve got a deal.”
“Done.” Jilla grasped the Skulla’s hand and shook it left and right, the traditional sign of agreement.
“Um, what just happened?” Bob asked.
Kalan scratched his head. “Hey Jilla, maybe next time let’s discuss it before you sign me up to fight a robot.”
She shrugged. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I know how these guys operate—Talrok would have kept us waiting for days before even considering seeing us. I knew it the moment he wasn’t there to greet us in the hangar. Tell me I’m wrong, Daschle.”
The Skulla said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.
The female Skulla looked concerned. “Daschle, we can’t let a random visitor fight our robot.”
Daschle looked at her sharply. “It’s been decided.” He turned to Kalan. “We don’t have all day, though. Let’s get started.”
Kalan sighed, resigned to his fate. He’d been involved in enough of Jilla’s crazy schemes to know the best thing to do now was to go along with it. Rather than being angry at her, his best bet was to use his mental energy for strategy.
He approached the blast screen, eyes fixed on the deactivated robot. He’d seen the way it protected its face, and that made sense. The actual construction of the unit was a mystery to him, but he had to assume its face contained its optical receptors at the very least.
The robot was programmed to think logically and to protect its most valuable components first, and Kalan could use that against the robot. He just needed to figure out how.
“You sure you know what you’re getting into?” the uniformed Skulla asked.
“Not a clue,” Kalan said. “I’m not really much of a planner.”
She held a pistol out to him, but he shook his head and gestured to his Tralen-14.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
As Kalan approached the robot he heard Wearl whisper from behind the blast screen, “This is going to be so hot.”
He positioned himself as far from the robot as the space allowed, then nodded to the uniformed Skulla.
“Activating the unit and starting the time now.” With that, she pressed the button on her handheld device.
The robot’s eyes lit and its head swiveled, stopping when it found Kalan. It turned toward him and lowered its arms to stand in a neutral position. Just as it had with the recruits, it regarded him passively, waiting to see what move he would make.
Kalan would have loved a few more minutes to observe the robot and find a weakness while it stared at him dumbly, but he only had thirty seconds and time was ticking.
“Here we go,” he muttered to himself.
He raised his Tralen-14 and fired at the robot’s face. Just as he’d expected, the machine lowered its head before he’d even squeezed the trigger.
The round rebounded into the wall, much to Kalan’s relief. Being killed by your own round as it bounced off a robot’s head would have been an incredibly dumb way to die.
This was Kalan’s moment. While the robot’s head was still down he adjusted his aim and began firing again, this time at the small gap in armor at the robot’s ankle. Instead of only firing once, though, he squeezed off three quick rounds.
The machine swayed to the side as its left ankle collapsed, no longer able to hold its weight, but after a moment it regained its balance and stood on one leg.
Kalan fired again at its head and the robot again looked down, protecting its face instead of its extremities.
Now Kalan took aim at the other ankle and fired. It only took two more rounds before the robot collapsed.
As it fell its neck twisted, exposing another gap in its armored hull. Kalan took advantage, firing into the gap.
“Okay, enough!” the uniformed Skulla called. “It’s going to take me a week to fix this thing as is.”
She tapped her handheld device and the robot powered down.
“What was the time?” Jilla asked.
The uniformed Skulla glanced down at her controller. “Twenty-two seconds.”
Jilla flashed Daschle a smile. “Told you he could do it.”
The Skulla wore a horrified expression, as if it was dawning on him that he’d have to follow through on his promise.
“Damn, that was even hotter than I’d expected,” Wearl said from behind the blast screen.
None of the Skulla seemed to notice, and it occurred to Kalan that their translation chips must not work on Shimmers.
“That was awesome!” Bob said, shooting Kalan a thumbs-up. “Hey, Jilla, what do you say we go double or nothing? I’ll bet I could take one of those out in twenty seconds.”
“Shut up, Bob!” Kalan ordered. He turned to Daschle. “Now how about that meeting?”
Daschle held up a hand defensively. “Look, it’s not like I can order Talrok to see you. He’s my boss.”
Jilla took a step toward him. “You’re not trying to back out of our agreement, are you, Daschle? I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but not that you were untrustworthy.”
“No!” the Skulla snapped. “I’m not saying I won’t do it, I’m just saying it will take time.”
Bob scratched his chin. “Huh. I distinctly remember you agreeing to a meeting today.”
“The human’s right,” Jilla agreed.
A look of panic leaped into Daschle’s eyes as he realized there was no way out of this predicament without either going back on his word or convincing his boss to meet with these visitors.
After a moment, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you to your quarters to freshen up, then I’ll go set up the meeting.”
Kalan couldn’t help but smile. He’d reunited with his childhood sweetheart, fought a robot, and now he was the closest he’d ever been to tracking down one of his kinsmen. This was turning out to be a pretty good day.
CHAPTER NINE
Tol’s Moon
Valerie had always doubted rumors of a distant past where people on Earth had sent someone to the moon. Now here she was, not only about to set foot on a moon, but it was a moon in an alien galaxy.
As she descended the ramp, she couldn’t help but think how much livelier this moon was than the dull yellow one she remembered from home. Earth’s was bone-yellow like a skull, whereas this moon actually had an almost golden tone to it, with large, dark-blue lakes.
It also had a mist of methane and other gasses, their sensors had told them, so they were going to have to keep their helmets on until they made it within the base they had spotted from above. Constructed of metal boxes connected with tubes of cloth, it looked like a strange child’s fort from a distance, and as they approached they saw that the lakes were filled with what looked like frozen bubbles of white and yellow—an odd look in a body of water.
It was likely those lakes weren’t filled with water at all, Valerie realized, and the thought of leaping into one vanished from her mind. They were probably a liquefied form of a gas too.
This place gave her the chills, especially the idea of walking around being so vulnerable. One attack could breach her armor or her new helmet—she had cracked the old one on a robot—and she’d be gone. No healing from that.
“How do we know they won’t shoot us on sight?” Valerie asked Palnik.
“We don’t,” he replied, his vo
ice heavy with static through his helmet. Its speakers likely needed tweaking, but they weren’t about to do that out here. “But we’ve got him.”
With a nod to the others he gestured to the Bandian, who was slung in a fireman’s carry over Garcia’s broad shoulders.
“I still don’t like it,” she told them. “We’re using this poor sod a bit more callously than my morals are okay with.”
“And yet, he tried to have you killed, and he was working to bring back the Aranaught behind everyone’s backs. You talk about justice, so where’s his?”
She glanced at his shackled, unconscious form. “He’s suffered plenty.”
“But not answered for his crimes or worked to make reparations. Here he can make a difference, and anyway, we’re not committing to anything. Just showing Talrok that the Bandian is being held accountable. Using him as leverage to get this crazy asshole’s help.”
“I’m not arguing that we shouldn’t do it,” she said. “I’m pointing out that I don’t like it.”
“Duly noted.”
Fifty yards out from the base a figure appeared, and light glinted off the rifle that was aimed at them.
“Turn around!” the figure commanded. “Leave, and never come back.”
A closer look showed this person had been hiding under a gold cloak that matched the moon’s surface and wore a matching golden helmet. It was flat on the top, with sensors around the edges and a horizontal strip of black at the eye line.
“Talrok?” Valerie asked.
The character shook its head, not lowering the gun. “Never heard of him, now turn around and go.”
“Never heard of him, huh?” Palnik asked, bravely stepping forward and motioning to Garcia, who joined him. “How about a scumbag calling himself ‘the Bandian?’ Ever heard of him?”
The figure remained silent for a long moment, then turned and jogged off.
Valerie and her team considered following, but they noticed more figures like the first popping up from the sand and calling out to the first as it ran by. They didn’t hear what was being asked, but the response each time was “The Bandian.”
“Seems like we have the most popular boy in the playground,” Robin said.
“Or the most hated criminal in the galaxy,” Garcia argued, “depending on how you look at it.”
The figure disappeared into the first metallic box, then a few moments came back out and shouted something, the others repeating it down the line until it came back to Valerie and team via a figure waving them in.
“We’ll talk inside,” a female voice said.
Half of the formerly hidden warriors moved back to the tent and the rest took up guard again, slowly disappearing into their environment as Valerie led her team into this strange base.
What she expected was nothing like what she found. Inside was a minimalistic environment, although it was pressurized and they were able to remove their helmets. No computers that they could see, only a series of telescopes and whatnot, some pointed up and others of different styles around their perimeter.
“What the hell is this place?” Garcia asked.
“Outpost Delta,” the female said, removing her helmet to reveal long strings of skin like a cross between hair and octopus tentacles. Valerie did her best to hide her unease at the sight. The female’s skin was blue, her eyes green and flowing like marbles.
“You mean there are four outposts up here?” Valerie asked.
“Five actually. All under Talrok’s command, but he isn’t here.” The female stepped over and put a hand on Valerie’s shoulder. “Commander Arlay, and you are?”
Valerie hesitated and glanced at Palnik, who nodded. She returned the gesture and introduced herself, then told them about their mission and what had brought them here.
“You’re saying the Aranaught is after the Bandian?” Arlay asked. “And you brought him here? Well, fuck.”
“Excuse me?”
Arlay removed her hand from Valerie’s shoulder and paced across the room, staring down and avoiding the sideways glances from the others of her kind at their posts.
Finally she stopped and looked up, green eyes narrowed. “You might have doomed us all, or possibly brought us the answer we need. Your plan is to infiltrate the Aranaught’s space station and put it out of commission, is that correct?”
Valerie hesitated. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“For one, because this whole command was set up for the sole purpose of bringing down the Aranaught. It’s why we avoid technology, to the degree that we can—so the Aranaught can’t infiltrate our systems. Second, because I’m about to lead you to Talrok, as unsure of that decision as I am. If your mission is as I understand it, then will you put your faith in me? Accompany me, so that I might lead you to him?
“Given what you just told me,” Valerie replied, “yes.”
“Very well. You’ll need your helmets and you’ll sure as shit need your weapons, because it’s nasty out there. We’re going upriver.”
An audible gasp echoed through the room, but the rest of the soldiers quickly returned to what they had been doing.
“Oh, don’t mind us,” Arlay said to the room. “I’m not bringing you piles of shit along with us anyway. You think I have a death wish?” She laughed, then gestured for Valerie’s team to follow. “Come on, I have the perfect team in mind.”
As they passed through the sparse base, Valerie felt her heart thudding in her armor. What the hell was she walking into?
A lot of fun, she told herself… Fun in the “killing bad guys or crazy space monsters” sense. The best kind of fun.
CHAPTER TEN
Tol’s Moon: The River
Everything about this place stank…literally.
It smelled of eggs and moldy ham, or like a dead rat left out in the rain, then shoved into an oven.
And that was just the underground parts of the base, the areas cleared out by the soldiers and set up for what they called a “habitable” living situation. So when it was time to suit up and go back outside, Valerie was more than ready.
However, when Valerie had committed to going up a river, she’d had no idea this was what they had meant. It wasn’t like a flowing river on Earth, but rather a slow slog that required metal oars. Thrusters and the like couldn’t be used, because fire in an environment like this would cause an explosion.
Gnarled rocks rose out of the ground, thin shapes that in some places almost looked like trees. In others they had formed in layers like thick plates stacked on top of each other. Steam rose from cracks in the ground, and Valerie was extremely glad that their suits had advanced cooling systems built in.
Commander Arlay stood at the front of the boat, rifle pointed down but helmet rotating left and right. She slowly scanned the area for trouble as her cloak floated behind her.
How impressive, Valerie thought, that not even she had noticed them hiding when first arriving. She blamed it on the whole “being on an alien moon” thing.
The journey continued like this for some time, until they reached a point where the rocks became cliffs on either side. Valerie wasn’t sure if the rocks were rising or the river descending, but since they weren’t going faster she assumed the former. She knew she couldn’t rely on her understanding of how things worked back home to be applicable here, though.
Palnik stood staring into the distance, a pensive look on his tattooed face. Robin was telling two of Arlay’s comrades about Earth, the three sitting at the back of the boat, when Garcia shushed them all and pointed to the tops of the cliffs.
“What the hell is that?” he hissed.
Valerie looked up and caught her breath. Sure enough, something was up there. The skies were heavy orange gusts of gas and dust, but a form like a lion’s was silhouetted against the sky. Instead of a mane it had an array of horns that jutted in every direction, parts of them sparkling and gleaming, and two large eyes that stared down at them like moons.
“If it moves, open fire,” Arlay sai
d, very quietly. “That’s a montroque, though not the largest I’ve seen. Nine times out of ten, when one of those wants you dead…you’re dead.”
“I’ve only ever heard stories,” Palnik added with a shudder.
Valerie stared in awe, wondering how big it was and using its distance and elevation to calculate its size. From her guestimation, it seemed to be somewhere between a bear and an elephant, though she had never seen a real one of the latter.
At least for now, it didn’t bother them.
The deeper they went, the more strange creatures they saw. Herds of the strange montroque, smaller versions of them that had droopy sacks around their necks and rounded horns that resembled stones, a few lizard-like blobs that clung to the sides of the cliffs, and more.
“Are any of these creatures intelligent beings?” Valerie asked.
“Do you mean… can they communicate at our level?” Arlay shook her head. “No, many of them are too stupid to figure out how to die, if you ask me. Their best function is as food to the predators, montroque and us alike.”
“Oh, you…eat them?” Robin asked, grossed out.
One of the soldiers scoffed at this. “Weren’t you telling us that you used to feast on the blood of other humans back on Earth?”
“Sounds like humans are much worse,” the other soldier said, both chortling in a weird alien laugh.
“First off, that’s not all humans,” Garcia explained. “These two women are…special.”
“There are others like us,” Valerie chimed in, “but not a lot. Funny story, actually… The whole legend of vampires was built up around this mutation that started with alien nanites. I mean, that’s the simple version.”
“Vampires?” Arlay asked. She clearly hadn’t been paying attention.
“Uh, modified humans who—mostly—suck the blood of other humans, generally killing them. And they—again, mostly—can’t go out in the sunlight.”
Arlay’s black eye line faced her, and Valerie sensed stinging reproach coming from the commander. “So you are—how should I say this?—the same as these devils?”