The races of the crowd slowly started making their decisions. At first, the crowd lingered back to stay in the town, but once one race walked towards the forest, others followed in large clusters. Soon, one turned into hundreds and then into thousands. Only a few hundred had opted to stay in the city with the man, and they all stood around him confidently. She was happy that much of the city had chosen to come with her, but she still felt she needed to have one last word with this man before leaving him.
“I can still use your help.”
The man turned up his nose. “I won’t help you, Zarah.”
“Can't you see if you rebel now that you'll surely die?” She pounded into him as best she could. “Your few hundred stand no chance, but you can still help all of those who have come with me.”
The man clenched his fists. “We could've won if you hadn't taken all of them.”
“And we still will win, in time,” she assured him. “But until that time, can you help me?”
“If it means saving their lives, then yes,” he let out in a defeated breath.
“I need you to report to me on the crodillians,” she said. “Tell me where they are, what they're doing, and anything else that can help the rebellion. Anything you can tell me will be helpful. You and your races will be crucial if we're to lose few lives.”
“I'll do it,” he said.
“Thank you,” Zarah took his hand. “What’s your name?”
“Dorjan,” he shook her hand firmly.
Pyrrhus' pilot landed the cargo ship at the Hassental spaceport and was approached by armed crodillians. Pyrrhus opened the ramp to the ship and walked out with crates in his arms and a large smile on his face.
“What’s your business here, human?” One of the crodillians asked, pointing his gun at his head.
“I’ve brought supplies,” Pyrrhus set it down. “For the survivors. You may check them if you would like or take what your own need. We’re all in this together now.”
The crodillian stepped forward and ripped off the lid with his long claws and dug through the crate.
“What is this stuff?”
“It's food,” he said. “Everything here has been destroyed, so I thought I could help by bringing food. Does your race not eat this stuff?”
The crodillian glared at him and shoved the containers over. “Whatever. Take it to the survivors. We don’t want your food.”
Pyrrhus picked up the crates and walked over to an abandoned cruiser. He set the crates down on it and started it up. As he hopped on, a light flashed in his eyes, catching his attention. It was coming from a nearby building, and looked as though it was pointing directly at him intentionally. It was a very small beam, but he was sure it was some sort of message. He lifted the cruiser up and headed straight for the building.
As he made his was towards the building, he couldn't help but think about how much life had been lost here. Buildings had crumbled to the ground and bodies scattered the streets, staining them with red where they were left to rot. The smell was horrid, but the sight was even worse than the putrid smell burning his nostrils. This had once been a thriving, prosperous District, and now it was lifeless. Nothing like it’d been only a few days ago. He stopped the cruiser at the building the light had been emitted from and stepped out of his cruiser with caution. Pyrrhus walked to the broken front door of the building and halted when he felt something pressed to the back of his head.
“I heard that you might be coming here,” someone said from behind him. “I didn't actually think you'd be so obvious by coming through the spaceport. Someone of your status should’ve been a little less obvious.”
“And who are you?” Pyrrhus asked.
He felt the weapon lower from his head so that he could turn around. He still wasn't sure who he was looking at when he turned around, but he didn't look like a man to mess with. A man of tall stature and branded skin stared at him with piercing green eyes.
“I'm Moran Borislav,” he answered. “No need to introduce yourself. I know who you are.”
“I figured as much,” he replied. “Why did you want me to come here?”
“It's as close as I wanted to get to the spaceport,” he said. “Once I heard reports that a ship had entered Gaea, I knew it was you. No one else has come since the attacks and I don't expect anyone else after you leave. We’re in this alone.”
“How’d you know that I was even coming?”
“I used to work for the GSOU,” Moran answered. “I have contacts everywhere who give me information. They said you needed someone to run some sort of rebel base here, I thought that I may be able to help, so I waited for you to come.”
“How many are left alive here?”
“A few thousand I suspect,” Moran shrugged. “Maybe more, but I'm not sure yet.”
“Are they all gathered in one place?”
“You could say that,” Moran smiled. “I've been gathering up any survivors as I can find. When I find them, I bring them to my place.”
“Do you know if Xiphos was destroyed when the crodillians attacked?”
“The military base?”
“Yes. It's on the outskirts of the District. It's not very well hidden, but it’s far enough away that I think the crodillians will ignore it.”
“It could be, but I won't know for sure until we go back to my place and look it up on some updated holomaps,” Moran walked to the cruiser and got in. “I'll take you there now.”
Pyrrhus got in and Moran lifted the cruiser off the ground. He sped over the wreckage of buildings and bodies that were piled up on the streets. No crodillians stopped them on the way, but Pyrrhus could see most of their ships were gathered at the Capitol building. Moran continued on without a glance anywhere but straight ahead and stopped at a building that looked like it had once stood hundreds of stories tall. All that was left now was a couple of stories with the rest of the building scattered around the street in chunks.
“You're staying here?” Pyrrhus asked.
“Yeah,” Moran got out. “Safest place on Gaea right now, if Xiphos isn't left standing that is. This place survived the initial attacks and can survive another hundred more if it needs to.”
“It looks like it didn't hold up to well.”
“Not what was above ground,” Moran shrugged. “But below ground is as good as new.”
“Ahh,” Pyrrhus grinned. “I guess I should've known you'd be prepared for anything.”
“More like I got lucky I had a place underground,” he chuckled. “I never really planned for anything like this.”
Pyrrhus followed Moran into the building to an elevator shaft that was missing the elevator. Moran stepped into the shaft and began down a makeshift ladder into the darkness. Pyrrhus followed his lead, hoping the ladder was sturdier than it looked. It took them awhile to reach the bottom, but when they did, Pyrrhus was amazed to see how many survivors were gathered underground.
The place was huge and every space was crammed with races that’d survived the attacks. He saw holoscreens displayed on some of the walls and races were looking at them intently, watching every move the crodillians made. Women were tending to children, and some of the men were working on weapons. Everyone seemed to have a job and it was fairly quiet for as many races that were crammed down here.
“This is amazing.”
“We're running out of room,” Moran replied. “If Xiphos really is still up, everyone here will be happy to get out of here. Every day it get more cramped.”
“But still,” Pyrrhus looked around. “It's really amazing how many lives you've saved. If you hadn't have brought them here, who knows what would've happened to them.”
“I couldn't leave them to die,” Moran said. “I heard of rebellions before the crodillians attacked, but I knew that was dumb. I gathered as many as I could get to listen down here. It wasn’t many, but that changed after the invasion.”
“It was definitely smarter than rebelling.”
“Pull up images from the ou
tskirts of Hassental,” Moran ordered one of the races working with holomaps.
The race immediately switched the image from a crodillian camp to the outskirts of Hassental. She started to slowly move adjust the frame until Pyrrhus put a hand on her shoulder.
“That's it,” he said. “That's Xiphos.”
“I'll start moving races from here once you've left and are on your way back to Ares.”
“I can't go back to Ares now,” Pyrrhus said. “I still have rebellion bases to set up on other planets.”
“Don't worry about it,” Moran said. “I have plenty of ex-military here that know of bases that can be used on other planets. I'll have them go out and start establishing bases elsewhere on Gaea and other planets.”
“No,” he protested. “I have to do it myself. I have to make sure that it gets done. This is my responsibility.”
“And it will get done,” Moran assured him. “But Orion also needs a military commander who’s faced the crodillians before. You got lucky here, but don't think you'll get so lucky on the other planets. Sooner or later someone will recognize you that’s not on our side.”
“Are you sure your men can get the job done?”
“Yes,” Moran nodded. “They're well trained and none of them are big military commanders, so they shouldn't raise any questions when traveling to spaceports.”
“I thought that would be the best way.”
Moran held his hand up. “It was the only way, but the crodillians may be ready for you next time. Orion doesn't need to chance their commander getting caught doing something others can do. This galaxy needs you getting everything ready for the rebellion.”
“I'll keep you updated on what's going to happen,” Pyrrhus said. “Get all of the survivors to Xiphos safely, and once you do, prepare them for what's ahead. You're now an important commander too. Stay safe, General Borislav.”
Donnchadh opened his bunker door to see Kellagh standing with his arms crossed. He didn't look pleased, in fact, he looked like he wanted to rip his head off of his shoulders.
“Is everything alright?”
“We've arrived at Erebos and I've led the ships to where you told me to go.”
“Is there resistance?” Donnchadh quickly stepped forward.
“Quite the opposite,” Kellagh said. “And I don't like it, as do none of the others.”
Donnchadh quickly made his way to the cockpit of the ship to see what Kellagh was talking about. He found out within a couple of seconds what had him so upset. The entire Deimos Brotherhood was waiting outside for the crodillians to exit their ships. They weren't attacking, nor did it appear as if they would, they were just standing there. He hadn't expected the entire Brotherhood to be waiting, and definitely not outside where they could be killed so easily.
Kellagh came up from behind him. “They knew we were coming, Donnchadh. Why did you contact them without informing me of it?”
“I didn't contact them,” Donnchadh lied. “They must’ve caught word of us coming. They have men stationed all over Orion, one of them was bound to send word to Kirill.”
“Don't lie to me,” Kellagh glared.
“I'm not,” Donnchadh moved to within a couple inches of his face. “They have technology in that base that can detect incoming ships and spies that are trained to get secret intel. Once they saw our ships, their intel was confirmed and they came to meet us.”
“Then why surrender peacefully when they could've struck us by surprise or just leave?”
“They know when they’re outmatched.”
“I’ve told the other ships to wait for your command. What do you want to do?” Kellagh asked.
“What do I want to do?”
“Are we to attack them?”
“No!” Donnchadh left the cockpit. “Tell them to land their ships and to wait inside. I'm about to find out what's going on here.”
Donnchadh quickly ran to the hangar and found a glider bike he could use to ride over to the Deimos Brotherhood. He got on and as soon as the ship landed, he lowered the ramp and sped towards them. The dry wind stung his eyes as he approached Kirill, who was standing in front of the Brotherhood with his hands on his hips. Donnchadh stopped his bike in front of him, but didn't get off.
“What are you doing, Kirill?”
“We're surrendering, like you told me to,” Kirill answered.
“You gathered the entire Brotherhood, when I said that we only wanted you?”
Kirill grinned. “They didn't want to leave me to die.”
“I told you that we’re going to rebel!” Donnchadh hissed. “You're going to mess everything up! The crodillians are second guessing me now because you were already waiting for me. I’m losing their trust.”
“Ahh,” Kirill grinned wider. “It seems your crodillian friends want to talk to us too.”
Donnchadh turned around to see Kellagh and the Captains approaching on their gliders. The rest of the crodillians were quickly approaching from behind on foot with weapons raised.
Donnchadh whipped around. “Just play along!”
Donnchadh waited for the others to reach him on their gliders. None of them looked happy and now he would have to try to repair the trust the Kirill had just severed.
“What are you telling them?” Kellagh asked.
“I just asked them to surrender peacefully,” Donnchadh replied. “They’ve all agreed and, in fact, had already decided on surrender when they saw the ships coming in.”
Kellagh looked to Kirill. “Are you the leader that Merikh wants?”
“I am,” Kirill nodded. “And I’m also surrendering, like Donnchadh just told you.”
Donnchadh didn't like the tone of voice he was using and knew the man was up to something. The rest of the crodillians were closing in, and he wondered if Kirill was waiting for them all to come in close so he could attack them somehow. Everything seemed off, this wasn’t the Kirill he’d come to know so well.
“But,” Kirill continued. “It's not quite like Donnchadh just told you.”
Donnchadh slowly turned to Kirill and saw a grin flash across his face. He immediately knew Kirill was about to use him to gain the trust of the crodillians and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d already lost whatever trust he’d gained when Kellagh saw the Deimos Brotherhood waiting for them upon arrival.
Donnchadh pushed his glider straight ahead, full throttle, away from the Brotherhood and the crodillians. He knew that he’d most likely die out in the grey wasteland, but it was better than being taken back to Merikh as a traitor. He'd rather take his chances out here and hope they didn’t come after him to kill him. The glider screamed as he continued to push it forward, further into the wasteland he knew would be his ultimate demise.
“Go after him!” Kellagh ordered his men.
“Don't,” Kirill put his hand up. “He’ll die slowly out there. Nobody lives out there long without any survival gear. The fool left with nothing but a bike that’ll take him so deep he’ll never be able to return.”
Kellagh held his hand up to stop the crodillians. “And why would you betray your own man like that?”
Kirill shrugged. “He was no longer one of my men and he wanted to betray someone that I want to become allies with. I couldn’t let him mess that up.”
“You want to be an ally of Merikh?”
“Yes,” Kirill nodded. “That’s why I chose not to attack you like Donnchadh wanted and waited for you where we did.”
“Just because you surrendered, doesn't mean he'll let you live. Merikh does want to kill you after all.”
“But you must take me back to him alive, am I correct?”
“Merikh does want you taken back alive,” Kellagh nodded. “And you’ll go back alive.”
“Then I’ll be able to talk to him once we're on Hera,” Kirill grinned. “My men will also come along peacefully. If they resist, you may kill them all.”
Kellagh chuckled. “Your men are with you all the way?”
“Y
es,” Kirill said. “We’ll be a strong ally for Merikh and every one of us wants the opportunity to fight for him.”
“I'll take you and your men back to Hera,” Kellagh said. “Merikh is a hard one to convince, I will warn you now, but you’ll get your chance.”
“He won't be able to turn down an alliance with the Deimos Brotherhood,” Kirill stepped forward. “With us, Orion will bow down to him.”
Chapter 12
Anlon and the others waited for Falcone to get in the cockpit and lift the ship. Anlon and Kanti immediately pulled up the weather and were relieved to see they’d made it to Drakos Mavros just in time. The storm was a mere minutes out and looked larger than the one they’d got stuck in.
Anlon looked out of the window and saw huge black clouds forming in mere seconds before his eyes. Soon after the sky was entirely black, ferocious winds hammered the ship and snow began to pound the metal. Nimesha jumped in the seat next to Falcone, and Anlon, Kanti, and Camillus all strapped into seats behind them.
“Hang on!” Falcone shouted over his shoulder. “This is going to be a rough ride. Luckily, you all have me piloting or you’d surely die.”
Anlon prepared himself for the ride as Drakos Mavros rose in the sky, rocking violently back and forth. It was clear it took all of Falcone's concentration to keep the ship from veering off path from the strong winds and blinding snow because his he was leaned forward in the seat and totally silent. The guard had been right when he said they wouldn't get caught, but he might not have been right about them escaping. The storm was definitely more violent than any of them had expected.
Rise of the Resistance (War for Orion Trilogy Book Two) Page 12