“Great work, everyone! Tac, fire-at-will!” Captain Daiyu ordered as soon as the replacement LPAs had fully extended.
An enemy battleship vanished in the first salvo, being sliced into four pieces after a lucky shot disabled its ESS while another destroyed the primary and secondary bridge of a cruiser that had slipped out of the shadow of its bigger brethren. The three remaining battleships, following the example of the frigates, corvettes, and cruisers, maneuvered behind the larger dreadnaughts, super-capital, and capital ships.
“Ma'am, 423 new contacts! They appear to be assault shuttles,” As the words reached her ears, 423 shuttles appeared on the CID before her, accelerating away from the enemy battle group, on course for Alutia V5432.
“Tac! The shuttles are now primary targets...fire-at-will!” Captain Daiyu shouted, desperation finally finding its way into her words. The ABF Sasha's LPA fire shifted from the larger starships to the assault shuttles. Forty-seven disintegrated in an instant as the beams struck home. But the rest maneuvered clear, the assault shuttles being on the far side of the enemy battle group while accelerating out of weapons range.
“Ma'am! I'm having trouble finding a clear shot!” the tactical officer shouted just as the range to the enemy battle group dropped below 500,000 kilometers. Plasma fire erupted from the noises of the enemy starships, swirling across space at 50,000 kilometers per second, aiming for the space surrounding them. There own plasma cannon angled, aiming for the trailing capital ship.
“Ma'am, I don't think I can dodge them all!” the primary helm officer cried, her words echoing across the fleet command deck as Tiana's heart stopped. A swirling purple mass of condensed plasma, born from the heart of the enemy super-capital's NSD core, was heading directly into the path of the ABF Sasha.
“All hands! Brace for impact!” Captain Daiyu's shout carried throughout the entire starship.
Tiana forced her eyes closed and squeezed Yukie's hand.
The ship is impenetrable...right Trent? The question filled her mind as the plasma beam struck home.
*********
An unusual dust cloud rose over the distance horizon, catching Sasha’s attention as they continued to trudge across Alutia V5432's desolate landscape. It was strange, the cloud appearing to reflect the oppressive radiance originating from the system's almost pure white star, now hovering directly overhead. The reflected light seemed to refract as it traveled through the desert air, its shimmering waves playing tricks on the mind. Her instincts told her it was real, like the many other strange sights she'd already beheld, her mind fighting the deserts mocking reality.
Odd objects and structures would appear before them, growing from the yellowish-white sand into shapes familiar, yet alien. After the first few vanished when they approached, she realized what they were; mirages. The desert playing tricks with her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was just another of its cruel jokes.
She squinted, covering her eyes to block some of the repressive sunlight, finding unlike the previous illusions, this strange cloud seemed to be moving. Her first thought was that it was just another sandstorm, like the few they'd already encountered since falling to the planet's surface. But this cloud was different, unlike the storms that would appear like a collapsing wall over the horizon, flowing rapidly across the sand covered terrain to engulf them, before vanishing just as quickly.
Sasha lowered Trent to the ground, running her fingers down his cheek and kissing him softly, trying to keep his mind awake and active. He'd been slowly improving, the medical nanites steadily repairing the damage to his brain. But like most major internal injuries, without a stay in a medical tube, and its specialized nanites and nutrient liquid, it would be impossible for him to recover completely.
Sasha accessed her combat armor's input system with her BC Node, activating its full form. The liquefied alloy responded instantly, crawling up her neck from beneath her robe to cover her head to form a solid helmet. Its enhanced vision activated the moment it solidified, and she zoomed in on the strange cloud.
A square silhouette caught her eye, followed by another, and another, a line of the strange constructs lumbering in their direction. She accessed the armors built-in combat database and requested an analysis of the object's silhouette, trying to discern its identity, while plotting its trajectory. An overlay appeared over her enhanced vision, displaying a dotted line, originating from the distant cloud and moving just past them, intersecting the barrier oasis a few kilometers beyond. She zoomed in on the site where the dotted line intersected the main colony, noticing the first outlines of the distant domes that must be part of the petty cities that lined the outside of the Barrier Oasis Colony.
Trent tried to stand, seeming to sense something was amiss, but she forced him back down, covering him with her robe as she crouched close. Once he calmed, she zoomed her vision back in the direction of the growing dust cloud as the analysis results appeared, highlighting the closest silhouette, while displaying row upon row of information and images. It took her only a moment to sift through the mountain of data and find what they referenced, being momentarily relieved that they were in fact, real.
The approaching vehicles were called Surface Harvesters, a type of portable mining factory long since thought obsolete in favor of the more efficient, and environmental friendly, orbital Duct Repmining systems. Each harvester stood easily over 200 meters tall, half as much wide and deep, and lumbered across the desert floor, their hover jets throwing up massive clouds of sand and debris.
Panic suddenly took her as she realized they would be easily visible in the desolate expanse. So she pushed Trent flat against the ground, lying close to his side, and desperately tried to cover their brown robes with the lighter colored sand.
When the edge of the first dust cloud swirled around them, she froze, hoping her frantic attempt to bury them, if only partially, was enough to conceal their location from any curious eyes. The harvesters passed only a couple hundred meters distant, the vibrations created by their powerful propulsion systems making the individual pieces of sand that weren't caught in the exhaust to bounce hypnotically. Her concern began to fade as her attention was grabbed by the behemoth harvesters themselves. A sight she'd never dreamed of seeing.
Their ancient surfaces were scarred from what must have been hundreds, if not thousands of years of continual use. Drills, arms, and tubes of all sizes littered the exterior of each harvester, the largest being close to half its total height. She knew little of how they worked, except that the principle was similar to that of duct repmining. The drills would dig holes deep into the planets crust, while the tubes would follow, vacuuming up the broken down earth as the arms collected the larger chunks. Workers would then process the mined earth within the harvester, separating out the valuable minerals for production or sale, while returning the useless earth back to the planet’s bosom.
She lay still for what felt like hours, the line of harvesters seeming never-ending. Sasha's anxiety began to build as she watched, then overflow when she realized they just wouldn't end. An idea came to her, that it would be a good idea to use the dust cloud as cover for their escape. Her breathing became rapid as she gripped Trent, ready to make her move, when the last of the Surface Harvesters finally rumbled past. She sighed, forcing herself to relax while waiting for the cloud to diminish and the final harvester to vanish well beyond the distant domed structures.
Her helmet retracted as she helped Trent to his feet, noticing his eyes glaze over for a moment before clearing. Careful not to disturb him more than necessary, she placed an arm about his waist, helping him forward, towards the petty city, their salvation, or so she hoped.
“Hey, where you two think you're going?” a man shouted, his gruff voice sounding from just behind. Sasha spun, startled, unable to hide her disbelief at finding two men, in dust covered robes, standing only a few meters away, combat arcs trained in their direction.
It’s impossible! Her mind screamed, the men seeming to
have appeared out of nowhere. Except that thought quickly faded when she noticed the long line of ancient transports, hovering only a hundred meters behind the men. She cursed her stupidity, being so absorbed by the large harvesters that she completely overlooked their smaller cousins moving alongside. The robed man gestured with his combat arc towards the lead transport.
“Get on...I don't know where you petties think you keep be going to,” the man's words were heavily accented and hard to follow, but Sasha understood one thing. They thought her and Trent were runaway petties. She quickly lowered her head, bowing in submission, not wanting to provide a reason for them to doubt their initial impression. Trent appeared to do the same, though he was hunching from the pain, not compliance. She was glad his mind was foggy, since she knew he would normally be reluctant to act, or lie as he thought it, always preferring to be honest and straightforward.
They started towards the transport the man had pointed, Trent shuffling along at her side. Carefully, she peered from under her brows at the floating transport, finding it looked ominous, its sand scarred metal surface making it appear like it had just returned from a battlefield. A small ramp emerged from just under a hidden door, extending beyond the small dust cloud created by its hover jets, before lowering to the ground. She resisted the urge to look up, get a closer look at the transport and what may await them, the two armed guards being too close behind.
They shuffled up the ramp and the door slid open before them, freeing a stench so horrid that she gagged, her legs threatening to give way as her eyes watered painfully. It was so putrid, so utterly rancid, that she could only think they'd been brought to a waste disposal vehicle, a place so disgusting no human should ever have to set foot within. But when she recovered from her momentary weakness, blinking free the blinding tears, she gasped, witnessing a sight that would forever haunt her dreams.
Row upon row of filthy, tightly packed, robed humans covered the grimy floor, only muffled coughs letting escape the fact that they were indeed, alive. A few raised their heads as the newcomers entered, only noticeable as the outside light reflected off their dull irises, faces so soiled they matched the brown robes they wore. But the curious looks vanished as the armed guards entered behind them, a flash of fear obvious, before the heads entered the protection of their robes.
The butt of a combat arc struck her back and she tumbled into the front row of petties, Trent falling alongside. The door slammed shut, leaving them in near total darkness. Her hand touched something slimy, an even more rancid scent of human waste striking her nostrils, and she unconsciously recoiled, pulling herself and Trent away as skeletal-like hands emerged from the surrounding robes. She leaned a bewildered Trent up against the closed door before sitting herself between him and the mass of filth covered humans.
“Ya new?” a young girl's voice croaked from a heap of dirty robes at her side.
“Yes,” Sasha answered roughly, trying to mask her own accent.
“You smell it. I, Mi'Cil,” the young girl pointed to another mass of robes to her left. “That brother Ci'Cil,” Sasha nodded, deciding against reciprocating the introduction.
“Where are they taking us?” she asked instead.
“Home....we be gettin' dinner! Good haul in fields today. First meal for us in a good while!” the girl sounded abnormally happy given her circumstances. But Sasha was relieved to find that they weren't being brought out to work, or somewhere worse; instead, being returned to the petty city, her and Trent's destination. The relief was short lived, however, as she comprehended Mi'Cil's words, a shiver rising through her spine.
“Why have they not been feeding you? Are you being punished?” Sasha asked, no longer concerned about masking her accent. The ruffled robes shook as if hidden laughter lay beneath.
“No, that not be it. We just don't work good...Ci'Cil and me. So it takes a good time for us to gather enough for a meal,” explained Mi'Cil, strangely indifferent.
“I don't understand,” Sasha responded, unable to fathom why that wouldn't allow them to eat.
“That's...how it works...” Trent's broken words caught her by surprise, his eyes still glazed, but apparently not his mind. “It's a quota...they have to bring...bring in a certain amount of...harvest...for them to be fed...it's...it's a horrible system...” his voice hoarse and barely audible, ragged breaths masking all emotion. But Sasha didn't need to hear his words to know how he felt. She could feel his seething anger, his rage trickling through their bond. She caressed his cheek, trying to calm him.
“That your man?” asked Mi'Cil from her side as she pushed closer, Sasha having to forcefully keep herself from cowering away from the stench that followed.
“Yes...and I love him,” Sasha said in honesty, the robes to her side, again, fluttering in a way that looked of hidden laughter.
“He don't look tough. You better be a careful in the colony. Jo'Mas takes the women he like,” a robe covered hand appeared to point across the dimly lit room to a giant of a man, the only one with his face uncovered, showing a large scar across a one-eyed face. She didn't notice him at first because his bald head was tattooed with dark green serpents, similar in color to the filth covered robes. He seemed to sense her stare, his own boring into her with the covetous look she was all too familiar with, having grown up around spoiled noble boys who always took what they wanted.
“I can take care of myself,” she said calmly, ruffling robes the only response.
The trip continued in silence, only the occasional cough and wheezing touching her ears. Sasha found she was unable to judge how much time had passed, until the door slid open, Trent falling on top of her as Mi'Cil and Ci'Cil rushed to their feet with the other petties.
“Hurry!” the girl's fearful tone was enough to force Sasha to her feet, with Trent stumbling to join her. Before they could steady, they were pushed out the door and quickly down the ramp. Armed guards, wearing the same robes as those that captured them, stood at its base, herding them away from the transport and into a tightly knit mass about 10 meters from another wall of armed guards. Sasha could see little from her place, having been more concerned with keeping her grip on Trent then trying to stay at the edge of the group. But she did notice they were on the outskirts of a colony; definitely a petty city.
Large domes of grey rose from the sand before them, their tightly packed ranks marching directly to the distant shield wall that protected the Barrier Oasis Colony and continuing to run parallel far beyond her sight. The grey domes were smooth, only broken by tiny, porthole-like windows, and small arched entryways that appeared to be placed evenly around their diameter. They were built so close together, only narrow alleyways appeared between most, littered with piles of trash, sand, and filth. She wondered how the petties were able to move between buildings, before she witnessed two vanish down one alley that looked especially filthy. Guess they can make due, she realized.
Throngs of robed petties emerged from the colony, seeming to be reluctantly waiting for the newcomers to be released, fidgeting and staying close to avenues of escape. One caught the eye of a passing guard and froze, before scurrying back into the dome which they had just emerged, apparently terrified. A larger thoroughfare could barely be seen further in, cutting through the center of the colony, about halfway from the shield wall.
A shout caused her to turn and she caught sight of another group of petties being herded from the transport that had followed theirs, with the other transports arriving, one after the other, to their left. Even more guards appeared from an access road that curved around the nearest dome, forming a cordon to keep all of the newly arrived petties from entering the colony. Behind them floated stacks of nondescript silver crates, pushed by other petties under armed guard. One of the crates was placed directly behind the cordon of guards watching over them. The crate collapsed open and stack upon stack of small grey boxes appeared.
“T435928364923843AZ, come get your meal!” a man in a clean robe appeared, seemingly out of thin air, and
stepped in front of the line of guards to shout out a number. One of the petties in the mass pushed their way to the front and hurried past the guards to snatch one of the small grey boxes, then darted towards the buildings, vanishing down a trash covered alley.
“Food call,” explained Mi'Cil from Sasha's side. She was about to ask why they didn't just line up, but quickly remembered what Trent had said. Not all of them would have met their quota, so not all of them would eat. The thought made her angry; very angry.
Petty numbers were called one after another, the waiting group thinning substantially, but Mi'Cil and Ci'Cil still stood quiet, patiently waiting their turn. Two numbers were called at once, and with noticeable enthusiasm, the two siblings pushed their way to the front, each grabbing a meal, before sprinting towards the buildings. Sasha thought she saw them stop and look back, but a rising dust cloud blocked her view.
“That's it! The rest of you need to do a better job,” the man in the clean robe scolded before vanishing behind the wall of guards. Sasha was about to start forward, when someone collapsed at her feet, a leg so thin she couldn't even think it from a human showing from under the ragged robe. She started to kneel, to help the poor soul, but was violently pushed out of the way by one of the armed guards.
“We have another one! Call 'ver disposal,” the guard shouted to his companions, pulling free a laser arc and aiming it the collapsed petty. Sasha felt, more then saw, Trent move. An armored fist crashed into the guard's stomach with such force that he flew 10 meters in the air, tumbling into the encroaching dust cloud.
'What the-,” another guard, who had also come forward, pulled his laser arc just as his nose was crushed by Trent's combat armored fist, collapsing into a heap, blood pooling in sand about his head. A dust cloud from the passing transports completely enveloped them as Sasha locked her arms around Trent's trembling body, seeing in his eyes a man who was being driven by fury.
The Noble Petty, Complete Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 2) Page 44