by David Beers
“I’d also like to offer whoever leads this planet a choice. I have no quarrel with you and no wish to engage in battle. My war lies elsewhere. The option I’d like to give you is to join me. If you come, many will die, but I promise that if we win, your people will have more territory and power than they know what to do with. If you choose not to join me, you’ll never see me again. In twenty-four standard hours, I will leave.”
That was it. That had been the whole message.
The elders had told him to shoot at the ships and rain fire from the sky as they broke apart.
Aspen had invited the man who’d killed his sister down. He’d promised him safe passage and said he’d like to speak to him.
Aspen now understood that he’d remember their first conversation until the day he died.
If the gods existed, surely the man who entered his home was their progeny. He was tall, broad-shouldered like an ox, and each movement was so precise it looked calculated. Aspen understood why his sister had lost in hand-to-hand combat. Who could stand against such a creature?
They sat down across from each other at the dining room table. There was no one else in the room. Aspen had banished his guards. Prometheus’ contingent remained in another room waiting.
“You said your war isn’t here,” Aspen began. “Where is it?”
“Another galaxy. The Milky Way.”
“Who’s it against?”
Prometheus’ face didn’t change when he said, “A man who tried to kill me.”
Aspen leaned back in his seat. “All of that…” He pointed at the ceiling, toward where the fleet waited, “is for a man who tried to kill you?”
A little smirk grew on Prometheus’ face. “It’s a bit more complicated, but yes.”
“You want my people to fight your war?”
“I respected your sister, even if she was cruel. Any people that can produce a leader like her is one I value. I don’t expect you to come, but you should know that only about a third of those who fought on your side are planning to return. The rest are staying with me.”
Aspen wasn’t shocked. His sister had been the heart of this planet, just as his father had been before. Aspen would never be that beating heart. He understood his position was as a shepherd, and right now, regardless of what the elders thought, he knew how precarious it was. He couldn’t protect this planet from invasion, especially not with so many leaving.
“Why don’t you just enslave us?” Aspen asked.
Still smirking, the big man sighed. “I guess because I’m not a slave-driver. If you come, you’ll still hold the position you’re in. I don’t know if you’re a king or what, and I really don’t care. You’ll pledge fealty to me, and I’ll protect your people like my own. When this is over, I guarantee your family won’t be threatened for generations after you.”
“No man can guarantee such a thing,” Aspen said.
Prometheus leaned forward on the table. “I mean you no disrespect, but we both know your position. Your army is mostly mine. My intelligence says you’re not like your sister or your brother. I didn’t have to come here. I could have left the Ice Queen’s body on the top of that roof and gone forward. I came because your family can help me, but I can also help them. It truly doesn’t matter to me what you choose, but understand that you will lose this planet if you don’t join. Other warlords will come here, and they will enslave you, those they don’t kill. I’m giving you an out. A way to preserve your family and push your sister’s legacy forward.”
There had been more words and questions, but the choice had really come down to that. A stranger had understood and summed the problem up perfectly.
Aspen had pledged fealty, and the majority of his people had left the ice world over the next weeks. Some had refused, but there was nothing he could do about that.
Now, he and his family flew in dreadnoughts across the universe, heading toward a war Aspen didn’t understand. He loved his family, his people, and he knew he wasn’t the person to lead them, yet there was no one else.
He hadn’t had much contact with Prometheus since they’d taken off, but the man now wanted to talk. The ship’s AI had called ahead, alerting him that Prometheus would be docking within an hour.
Aspen met him in the docking bay. “Salve, Prometheus.”
“Salve, Aspen,” he responded formally. “Let’s wait until we’re in private to talk further.”
They went to Aspen’s quarters on the dreadnought, and when they were alone, Aspen asked, “You want a drink or anything? Food?”
Prometheus discarded the idea with a shake of his head. “How’s Brillin working out for you?”
That had been Kane’s only demand. He’d said Aspen had to take Brillin under his wing and teach him how to lead. The kid had fought for Pro against Cristin in that final battle, and he must have done well. Aspen wasn’t stupid, though; he knew the boy was loyal to Prometheus and was probably keeping tabs on all that Aspen was doing. Making sure there wouldn’t be an attempted coup.
“He’s doing well,” Aspen said. “It’s clear he doesn’t come from nobility, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s probably braver than I am.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sure you didn’t travel here to discuss him, though. What can I do for you, my liege?”
Prometheus sat down at the small dining table. “I hate that term. I’ll never get used to it.” He met Aspen’s eyes. “We’re going to war much faster than I thought we would, so we only have about two weeks to prepare. Can you get your family ready?”
Aspen was silent as he moved to the wet bar. He poured himself a strong drink and took a sip, his back to Prometheus. “You’re not a dumb man. I’m not a warrior. I’m not a leader. I never wanted to be, but Cristin’s need for expansion put me here.” He turned around and met the former Titan’s eyes. “I’m not the person you want in this position. You know why I joined. Because it was the smart move to keep those dependent on me alive. You don’t have to keep me in this spot. I truly don’t want it.”
Kane was quiet for a moment, studying Aspen. Aspen didn’t like it, didn’t like the weight of this man’s look. He understood why they called him Prometheus, bringing fire to humanity, but he thought Kane could just as easily burn the species to death with those flames. He was that strong—a world-breaker.
Alistair blinked, breaking the hold he held on Aspen, then leaned back in his chair and stared at the table. “I used to think a lot like you when I was a Titan. I always thought about the next mission. The next battle. In some ways, the position I’m in is a lot like the one you’re in. I never wanted…” His eyes grew wide as he stared at the table. “I never wanted any of this, and while I always had choices about getting here, they weren’t great ones. The choice was something like, lose your life or lead an insurrection. Here I am, though, and here you are. The problem with your thinking is you’re only seeing the next battle, Aspen.”
He looked up then. Aspen’s eyes were narrowed; he was trying to understand what this man meant.
“There’s going to be a lot of next battles, I imagine, but eventually, they’ll end. Eventually, you’re not going to be flying through space, doing my bidding. Eventually, your family is going to have their own planet again. Multiple ones, even. You’re not a warrior, and maybe you’ll never be one. What you need to consider, though, is this: are you the right person to lead during peace?”
Aspen didn’t know how to respond. He found no words. He’d never considered the question just posed. He’d never considered any of this, and at nineteen years old, he didn’t know the answer. He felt like he didn’t know anything. His sister, now… She’d been different, groomed to take the mantle, but him?
“I don’t know.” It was the only answer he had.
Alistair stood from the table. “I believe you are that person, Aspen. You’ve got two weeks to get your men ready for battle. You don’t need to be a warrior to be a leader. Your sister was smart, and unless you got fucked in the gene pool, I imagi
ne you carry some of those brains too. Two weeks. Your liege commands it.”
Alistair was alone as he flew back to his dreadnought in the corvette. The ship was running on auto-pilot, leaving Alistair the time he needed to think.
The price of leadership was loneliness; Alistair understood that as well as any person. The weight of entire civilizations rested on the decisions he was making, and the resources he had were limited while the forces against him grew more and more overwhelming.
Maybe he’d underestimated the Ascendant. Perhaps he’d always thought of the Commonwealth as a collective, strong because of all its people. Alistair now realized that had been a mistake. The driving force behind the collective was the Ascendant, and just because he’d never touched a battlefield, it didn’t mean he wasn’t a deadly foe. From a room on Earth, he was dictating the deaths of millions.
Alistair didn’t know if Aspen could be the leader he needed. The head of the family was barely a man, and Alistair hadn’t had time to understand him. Perhaps he should have made time, but it was too late for that now. He didn’t have anyone he could give up to make sure Aspen’s people were ready. All of his people would be needed for the already massive military he possessed.
Aspen would have to deliver.
What Alistair had told him wasn’t a lie. It was what he believed the kid needed to hear.
The question now was, did he take over monitoring where Aspen was with his warriors, or did he delegate it?
Thoreaux could do it. There wasn’t any doubt about his second’s capabilities. Hell, any of his council could do it, but would it pull them away from their duties? Alistair understood better than everyone how bad this was going to be. Attacking a planet they didn’t want to destroy and needing to save many of the people on it? The logistics alone were a nightmare, let alone the overarching strategy.
Luna’s voice whispered in his head.
You brought the kid off his planet, Allie. You knew he was young. You knew he wasn’t ready, and now you’re tasking him with leading an army? It’s your job to tutor him. It’s your job to protect him until he’s learned enough to protect himself. That’s your job.
She was right. He couldn’t pawn this off on anyone else.
Finally, as his corvette got close to the dreadnought, Alistair considered the actual issue.
Attacking the Commonwealth on a planet encased with fire, getting beneath the ground, then fighting in fortified tunnels. He was, for the moment, going to leave the squid creatures alone.
He had no choice in the matter. On a cold, calculating level, he couldn’t complete this insurrection without the Terram. On a moral level, he had brought the Commonwealth to them, and he was as responsible for them as he was for the Monahams.
Alistair had to protect them, and if his movement was going to survive, he had to figure out a way to break free of the Commonwealth’s paradigm. He had to do something they wouldn’t expect.
Yet on a planet surrounded by flame, what bold move could he make to change things?
He had no ideas, yet his instructions to Thoreaux were the same: tell them help is on the way.
Was it a lie?
Chapter Ten
Two Months after Earth’s Fleet Left for Phoenix
Petra stood next to the giant known as Hector and stared down at the planet called Phoenix. Their dreadnought was just above the atmosphere, where explosions continually detonated and flames always burned.
Petra had traveled next to the man for two months, racing through the fourth dimension for much longer than she’d ever traveled in it. When they’d finally reentered the third dimension, it was as if every part of her body sang in joy. Everyone she came in contact with appeared to feel the same, all having a spring in their steps.
Everyone except Hector. His body showed no joy, no change. If the fourth dimension affected him, Petra couldn’t tell. Indeed, she could tell very little about the man. He’d been silent for much of the trip, offering no insights she could report to the Imperial Ascendant, though her leader hadn’t called her either.
Petra’s natural inclination to observe her surroundings was helping tremendously in this endeavor or would if Hector would give her anything to work with. He didn’t. The man was like a mountain, silent and unmoving, unbothered by the world around him.
Standing next to him, Petra was reminded of the mountain metaphor due to his size. She looked closer to a child than an adult when she was at his side, but for once, she wasn’t concentrating on him.
Petra was staring at the world beneath their ship. The deck was a highly advanced panel, allowing the dreadnought to magnify whatever was outside it. Right now, it appeared as if they were only a few feet above the eternal flames.
“Have they given us word on whether they’ll surrender or not?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hector said without looking at her. He kept his eyes on the world beneath them.
Petra turned her attention to him. “What do you mean?”
“That was only a ploy to buy us time. Not all of our ships can travel at the same speed, and we want them all here before our attack. There’s no reason for us to allow them quarter, especially not when their liege is on the way. It wouldn’t do to give him a larger military when he does arrive.”
She nodded. That made sense. It wasn’t the most honorable thing they could do, but these Terram had pledged their loyalty to Kane after having remained neutral for so many years. This was war, and one side was going to have a lot of casualties. It was better that it be the Terram.
“The word will come down in a few hours. We launch in ten standard, one hour before their deadline.”
When Petra first began traveling with Hector, she’d been nervous about asking him questions. He had to know she was the Imperial Ascendant’s plant, put there to spy on him. Yet, when she started asking questions, she felt no ill will from him. He was open and honest with his answers, and when he couldn’t tell her for whatever reason, he didn’t shy away from it. He didn’t treat her like an equal—Hector was obviously her superior—but he didn’t treat her like an inferior either. They were comrades; that was the closest name she could find for it.
Petra had to remember her purpose here; a strong leader or someone who was kind to her could still overthrow the Commonwealth. They could still cast everything she knew and loved back into the Dark Ages. Her purpose here hadn’t changed, nor would it.
“Have you fought in something like this before?” Hector asked.
It was only the two of them in this small room. The rest of the dreadnought was abuzz with action, but here, there was peace.
“No,” Petra answered with a shake of her head. “I’ve had a few assignments on Earth, but it wasn’t warfare like this. The Academy staged some war-like exercises, but…no. Nothing like this.”
He nodded as if he’d known the answer. “A lot of people are going to die when we start this, on both sides. This planet is better fortified than any I’ve ever seen, and the atmosphere creates even more difficulty. We’ll be fighting under the ground inside tunnels that are built for them, not us.” He was calm as he spoke, showing no anxiety or anger. “Stay close to me, Petra. I’m not saying you’re not skilled or that your Titans aren’t, but this is very different from the assignments you usually take on.”
He paused for a moment.
“I’ll keep you alive, Petra, but you have to stay close. Understand?”
“What about everyone else?”
Hector glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and a smirk appeared on his lips. “The Ascendant didn’t send them to spy on me. They’re on their own.”
Petra wore her MechSuit as she strapped herself into the Digger. It was a deep green, like a plant from a lush jungle. Her Whip was attached to her belt, as well as the various other weapons she would use.
Across the fleet, others were doing the same. They couldn’t just collapse the interior of the planet, crushing the Terram in their tunnels; that would also bre
ak their portal. Destroying that would cause Kane to seek other means of returning to the Commonwealth. No, it would be hand-to-hand combat for the most part. They’d take the planet inch by bloody inch.
The Digger was new for Petra, though Hector had explained it to her briefly before they started launch prep. He’d used a smaller version on Mars when the Subversives had dug themselves into the planet.
The machine could withstand the heat, including almost anything except a direct explosion. It would latch onto the planet, then use scanning tech to map the area beneath it before drilling in such a way that it wouldn’t collapse the surrounding area. It would allow the tunnels to remain structurally intact. Petra didn’t know how any of that was possible, especially with the tremendous heat above them, but Hector said it would work.
It’d better, given the number of Diggers that would be launched toward the planet. If it didn’t? It’d be a lot of dead Commonwealth soldiers since this was the first stage of their assault. Some of the smaller ships would enter the atmosphere and begin subterranean scans, mapping the Terram world. Once that was finished, the Diggers would basically form tunnels to the transports and bring more men. The side facing space would open, creating an airlocked tunnel that would connect to the transports flying in from space.
That was yet another tactic Petra hadn’t heard of, but Hector said it too would work.
The Digger was a massive circular ship that looked like a saucer rather than a typical transport. Petra sat next to Hector, her helmet retracted into the neckline of her suit for the time being. She’d already taken in the area around her. The seats were in circular rows, becoming larger as they got closer to the outer edge of the ship.
This Digger contained five hundred people, and some were smaller, some were larger. It depended on the size of the underground tunnel the human payload was being dropped at.