Viole[n]t Skies

by Derek Baker

  I knocked on the door to see if anyone was home. We heard a rustling and footsteps cautiously approaching from the other side. The door opened a crack.

  “Can I…help you?” It was an older woman, almost appearing senile.

  I looked from side to side before replying: “Yes, my name’s Delvon Galihue, I used to be the resident of this apartment before I was um….abducted….by Wendrans. I guess I just wanted to see what happened to the old bachelor pad.”

  “You were what?” The door opened further, showing more of her. She didn’t seem to be quite all there.

  I was a bit confused just as she probably was. “Do you know? About the Wendrans?”

  “About the who?”

  “The Wendrans.”

  “Those punks from down the hall stole my toaster, did you get it back for me?”

  I looked back at Claire, who against her own will was trying not to laugh. I guess I didn’t blame her.

  “Sorry ma’am, I don’t have your toaster, sorry for bothering you. But hey, have a nice day.”

  “Okay! You too!” she quickly shut the door in our faces.

  Claire and I both started laughing guiltily as we walked out of the building, hand in hand. Sometimes, as I learned, trying to go down memory lane was like barking up the wrong tree.

  ~~~~~

  “Minister Presley, General Webb, allow me to introduce my father, Shri’Buk’Tai,” Chym said in his ever formal tone. The two humans bowed graciously before the kindly looking Martian before taking their seats in front of the Prime Minister’s desk.

  “Minister Shri, I understand your city of Tai to be a finely tuned institution of knowledge. Tell me, how long ago was this city built?” Ashton Presley looked over her glasses at the thoughtful Martian twiddling his long thumbs together as his long frame slouched backwards in the chair.

  “Ah, it is mostly a question of lore in these ages, Madam. Some say thousands, some say millions of years. You would think we would have better track of our history, but our ancestors occasionally grew a bit too complacent than I am at many times comfortable to admit. Certainly it has existed for at least fifty thousand years that we can track with absolute certainty with perhaps twice that length of time with less certainty; the city has served as the epicenter of the city-states for approximately the most recent ten thousand years.”

  The human minister leaned forward in fascination. “What does a civilization do with that much time at its disposal? Human society as we know it has existed for perhaps only ten percent of that time with far less certainty.”

  “We’ve definitely maintained a cyclical nature. We have seen our fair share of periods of intense conflict among the stars and periods of peace. One constant feature has been our striving for democracy and the spread of that type of governance on other worlds. We have been a race of peace for as long as we’ve adapted to subterranean realms. We care about the welfare of others, just not our own well-being. That is the main difference between us and the likes of the Wendrans and Emperor Albalon IV.”

  “We are certainly happy that is the case, Minister.”

  “I hate to rush things along, father, but we did gather here to discuss the counter-invasion,” Chym reminded curtly.

  “This is true,” the old Martian nodded.

  “In that case,” General Patrick Webb jutted in, “I’d like to say that the Earth portion of the fleet is back on its feet and rearing to go any day now. Just tell us when you’re ready.”

  “We’d like to keep the exact date classified, so as to keep the Wendrans on their toes,” replied Shri’Buk’Tai.

  “I understand we’re going to attacking their capital city. Riveron, I believe it was called?”

  “That is correct, general. We will do a thorough disassembling of the industrial capacities that drive the further construction of future Wendran fleets and hope to perhaps force the Wendran Emperor’s hand at surrendering in the process.”

  “We’re that close to victory, Minister?”

  “There would still be a lot of mess to clean up in the Wendrans’ various colonies around the sector, but this blow, if implemented with enough force, could end their imperialism and have them constantly looking over their shoulder, unable to enslave another single person on any given planet. Their hopes will go to shambles, the exact goal we hope to achieve. They will know they’re done.”

  “Well heck, I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be there right along with you every step of the way, I guarantee it,” the general nodded sincerely.

  “I doubt it not,” the Martian minister returned the gesture.

  “So now it looks like,” Minister Presley stared off in no direction in particular, “we sit and wait for the time to strike.”

  Chapter 27 – July 2135

  Riveron. A city suited to harbor the epicenter of an empire. I had heard all sorts of references to the prime target of the Earth-Mars counter invasion that was unfolding. They knew we were coming, just as we had known of their oncoming attack. They were ready to fight tooth and nail, ready to lose every last of their soldiers if it meant their empire would live to see another day. Just as we were willing to sacrifice all the fighters, bombers, and battleships it took to strike a deadly blow at the heart of the antagonist. There was one perhaps realistic goal: to destroy the city itself and the symbolism that it served to the rest of the Wendrans. As for the merely hopeful goal, we wished to capture the Emperor and the madman, the mastermind behind the entire war: Albalon the Fourth.

  I wasn’t as nervous this time around, waiting in my bunk in the hull of the battleship on our voyage to the Wendran home world. This time my entire planet wasn’t at stake. I could imagine the way their soldiers must have been feeling to know what devastation could result should they not succeed. In a way I almost sympathized for them. But then I remembered the torture, the vile way they treated me aboard the Tinzyick all that time ago. How Chym, Alexander and I had managed to escape the horrid vessel and by some stroke of luck made it back to the Mars and Earth to warn the others.

  I suppose the original goal was over, but there was still much to accomplish. There was still a war going on, and there was still a mess to clean up on Earth. Win here now, help out at home later. It was a simple enough plan in writing.

  This time around, my trio consisted of me, the grand old Chym’Buk’Tai himself, and this Martian Eto named Gir’Sik’Tai. I had questioned Chym when he came into the cabin and informed me of the arrangement, seeing as the trios were supposed to designated into the specific gender roles, but Chym said he had overridden the regulations. I shrugged it off, elated at the idea I could fight alongside my most trusted comrade.

  The journey to Wendra was mostly dull, consisting of a routine daily schedule of the basic meals and exercise that almost felt like high school gym class all over again. At least I was able to call my family before going to sleep, waving back and forth with Violet through the tablet’s screen. She was a little cutie as Claire liked to make her own interpretations of our daughter’s voice as she would pretend to say hi to her daddy.

  I had many interesting conversations with Chym as the time wore on. We talked about the astrophysics behind the engines that made the ships run, an area of expertise for me. Discussions often dwelt on the separate histories of all the different planets that were recorded around the galactic neighborhood, especially their current situations that came from the Wendrans’ successful invasions. I could write a unique, stand-alone book for each of the planets that Wendra had conquered. I knew with these discussions that I wanted to eventually visit them all.

  “Such a venture would likely not deem possible for many years to come,” Chym frowned.

  “Because the Wendrans would still be there?” I had asked

  “Precisely. That shall prove to be another dimension of the war itself.”

  Sometimes Chym would read from an old book he took with him on his travels. It was an old Martian tale of adventure, about an ancient Martian who lived on the surface an
d recorded his encounters in a diary as he traveled from kingdom to kingdom. It spoke of antiquated wars that ravaged country sides and villages, pestilence and rot that infected thousands of children and weak. What stood out to me most of all was how the speech throughout the entire book was less dramatic in favor of a more matter-of-fact approach to the problems that plagued pre-subterranean Martian society. It showed that even then that their species was capable of a higher reason than utter barbarism.

  Apart from all this, I made sure each day to review the controls for my fighter so that I’d be at peak performance once it came time to attack the city of Riveron. And indeed that day came.

  The whole preparation leading up to the launch worked much like it had before, only the fighters were all parked in the cramped launch pads of the Martian battleships rather than on the runways on the outskirts of the city of Tai. Instead of traversing the long tunnel out to space, we were met with an entirely different view.

  Rather than the familiar sight of the rusty Mars of the water-flooded Earth, we saw a purplish planet beckoning us in the distance. It had been quite some time since I had last seen this world. It was on board the Wendran scout ship, the very same vessel upon which we met our captors and then returned to Mars after a catatonic sleep and subsequent escape. I’m fairly certain it wound up in a museum somewhere.

  The fighters charged forward, reaching a comfortable velocity in our approach. I began to see the outline of a Wendran armada awaiting our arrival. Surely enough, they weren’t going to make it easy for us to get to their precious city of Riveron.

  A squadron of fighters dispatched from the plethora of Wendran mother ships to counter our offensive. It seemed, at least in my memory, significantly smaller than the force we had met when they attacked Earth.

  “Is this all they got?” I asked Chym through the comms.

  “I would appear so,” there was a tint of worry in his voice.

  “Do you think they’ve got more waiting for us? Like a trap, perhaps?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them; they’re known their devious nature.”

  The Wendran fighters came into firing range. As soon as the Commander Vok’Lem’Boark - the very same rogue character who had led our successful defense - gave us permission to fire I was pulling the trigger as fast as the laser would allow me.

  Throughout the whole fire fight not once did I feel threatened. It was practically easy picking and I stayed near the middle of the squadron. Besides that, our goal wasn’t to take them all out anyway; we were merely trying to get past them. As we did our best to steer clear of the Wendran armada that was likely to engage the Martian battleships that brought us to our destination, it was us and the bombers who would be assaulting the city of Riveron from above.

  With my trio remaining unscathed from the mild encounter, the fighters pushed onwards towards the planet of Wendra itself. As their mother ships were preoccupied, our new concern became the planet’s self-defense mechanisms, namely their anti-meteor diversion lasers. If they detected anything metallic or rock-like that wasn’t already registered as friendly in their databases, they would automatically fire, with the same deadly accuracy that accompanied Wendran and Martian technologies.

  Our confidence surged, and the planet grew much, much larger along with it. I couldn’t see much yet on the indigo-like surface, but I knew the city of Riveron lay at the coast of a large bay in the southern hemisphere. Their planet, while supplying plentiful water to its inhabitants, had but one large salt water ocean with various rivers and interconnecting moderately sized inland seas. The tectonics had worked out to give the ancient seafaring Wendrans only two continents to venture between, back and forth.

  Now with the city in view after more flying and few obstacles to deter us, the commander came back onto the comms with his less than perfectly grammatical speech: “Now…er…uploading the targets. Heavy industrials, lots of bad stuff there. Let’s get them all.”

  The list and coordinates popped up on my control screen. It then just became a matter of programming the fighter’s lasers to hit those exact points. When my attention returned to the flight, I could see nothing but the planet all around us. The arrival of turbulence signaled our entry into the atmosphere.

  I could see the bay now, and the city that literally encompassed it. A sprawling metropolis. Tens if not hundreds of millions inhabitants. I wondered if they all really believed in what their government was doing, or if they were just going along with it, hiding their opposition for fear of being accused of treason. Or maybe that was just the way their race worked: they liked to conquer. I supposed we’d be able to learn more about them if there were no war between us.

  I took a deep breath and shrugged in my cockpit seat. No time to dwell on other things. I focused my attention on the targets. Only two hundred kilometers above now and decelerating rapidly.

  “Stay together, strength in unity,” the commander’s voice instructed.

  Then the firing began to come from the city. At first a stray shot here and there, then with increasing intensity. A sea of lasers now.

  An explosion not too far away from me. I looked over, to see the space that had been occupied by our trio’s eto Gir’Sik’Tai was now empty. Gone.

  “Shit, Chym!”

  The stranger part of it was, though I was immediately and all at once consumed with a new instinct for survival at the sight of seeing my comrade die before my eyes, I didn’t remember seeing a laser coming from the city, but I figured it was easy to miss some due to the sheer mass of them coming our way.

  Chym and I now a duo, we were forced to drift towards the back of the squadron of fighters. Things were now happening fast. The city and its buildings were all one could see for miles around. I must admit that it was almost a pity to lay waste to such a remarkable feat of intelligent life.

  The lasers took over, and everything turned into a mess. Up became down, down became up, left became right, and vice versa. The fighter had grown a mind of its own. Had my engine gone off and now I was spinning out of control in the sky to plummet to a fiery death?

  Yes. The engines had gone off.

  I toggled the damage report button: nothing. The ground grew closer.

  “Chym! Chym! Help!”

  “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Engines offline, going down!”

  “Ah, fear not, Delvon. You will be fine.”

  What? I wasn’t sure if I was saying it out loud or not, nothing was making any sense. Seconds away from the ground now, I could tell.

  “This is how it ends?”

  “Of course not,” Chym’s voice was too calm for comfort.

  Then I felt an odd tug on my fighter. Before I could hit the ground, I leveled out and began climbing in altitude. However, my engines still read offline.

  “Chym? Is that you?”

  No answer, but it was him. I had no idea how he was doing it, but my fighter was being guided by his.

  “Chym? What are you doing? We’re getting separated from the rest of the squadron!”

  “Precisely the point,” he finally said.

  I was freaking out at this point. I watched as we slowly made our way through the city, only now we weren’t faced with resistance. Something wrong, something terribly wrong was happening. Soon we were no longer in the city of Riveron, and a sprawling countryside consumed us. We traveled further, all the while I was futilely demanding an answer from Chym.

  We came across a river and then Chym started guiding the two fighters along its path, keeping a safe gliding distance above all the while. A forest of exotic trees was up ahead, and we skimmed over the tops of the trees until we hit a clearing. In the clearing was a landing pad.

  “What the fuck, Chym? What is going on?”

  Both ships made a safe landing, and we both immediately got out. The air felt moist in my lungs. Breathable but slightly uncomfortable. Not toxic though.

  I stood there for a few seconds taking in my surroundings, before I lo
oked over to Chym in utter horror. His laser was drawn, pointing at me.

  My hands rose in submission. “Chym,” I begged, “Please. What is going on?”

  “Follow me, willfully or unwillfully, Delvon.” His gaze was completely serious and unyielding. I couldn’t tell if he had gone insane or otherwise.

  “Chym, we don’t have to do this,” I pleaded.

  “Oh, but we must.”

  He urged to start walking in front of him. “Move it! I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

  Hands still in the air, I did as he asked. We approached a pit in the middle of the landing pad.

  Chym spoke into his communicator: “Ready. Yes, I have the human… yes, we’re alone. No. Yes, send it up.”

  A platform rose to the surface of the pit, and we both stepped onto it. It began its descent; all the while I said nothing to Chym. He was being bribed or something, perhaps blackmailed, I couldn’t wrap my head around what would compel this blatant betrayal, especially from someone who I had thought was a most trusted ally.

  There was nothing but darkness and a rapidly cooling temperature when the platform stopped moving. A voice crept out of the darkness: “Step forward, both of you.”

  A light finally came on, and I was face to face with a demonic looking Wendran guard. Those piercing yellow, crescent shaped eyes were just as spiteful as they had been the first time I laid my own eyes upon them.

  “This way, Ambassador.”

  We followed him along a long corridor, both of them keeping a close on me with the limited light of the lantern he held.

  A chamber door opened after a couple minutes of walking, flooding us with light, burning my eyes to adjust.

  The room was plain and simple, formatted like a typical office with a long table for entertaining meetings and guests. At the head of the table sat a lavishly dressed Wendran who gave us an interested gaze.

  He rose from the table, strode over to us. He nodded at Chym with a wink.