“Rise up my brothers!” Penchant yelled. “Rise up and bring down the Terran invaders!”
Throughout the crowd, screams exploded as the Lithids throughout the crowd turned and attacked their oppressors. The cries of pain and gurgling death cries rolled over the throngs of people in waves, spreading their infectious revolutionary attitudes. Within minutes, the thick snow was painted with strands and sprays of red blood and the crowd, fed both from the rise up of the Lithids and the excited yells of the revolutionaries positioned throughout, cheered wildly.
“Follow me,” Penchant howled as he pushed his way through the crowd. Others quickly joined his towering form, as fellow Lithids transformed into nightmarish beasts and moved to the front of the crowd. Turning, he raised his clawed fists into the air. “Death to the Terrans!”
The rest of the crowd picked up his war chant as they surged forward, the few smart enough to collect the fallen Terran weapons moving behind the Lithid monstrosities. The whole group stormed toward the fields and the Terran barracks beyond.
Keryn reached into her vest and removed her radio. “We’re moving; all units take your positions and prepare for battle.”
Adam placed his hand on her arm as she went to leave. “I wish I could be there with you, fighting on the front lines.”
She smiled and placed a hand over his. “I know you do. But you have your own mission to complete.” As she moved into position behind the crowd, she glanced over her shoulder. “That whole thing with Penchant is pretty crazy, huh?”
“I guess he got his blaze of glory and his famous last words after all,” he yelled back as he turned and disappeared onto the side streets.
The Lithids in the front of the mob made quick work of the few remaining Terran guards. Unprepared for such an assault, they fired only a couple of rounds and only a single Lithid was killed as the crowd pushed through the residential part of town and passed into the business district, with its skeletal towers still looming over the wide streets. Nearly two-dozen of the crowd broke off once they passed into the district and sprinted ahead, cutting onto side streets. From unassuming dumpsters and piles of rubble, the soldiers of the ambush team pulled weapons and explosives and took positions behind any available cover.
The Terran response to the uprising was both swift and terrifying. A small squadron of armored tanks moved across the rubble field, their inertial dampeners causing them to float effortlessly over the obstructions. The tanks’ turrets scanned the area ahead as they moved into the far side of the business district. Behind the tanks, Terran infantry followed, wearing their black body armor with identifying stripes. Bristling with their own arsenal, they moved, eager to put down the insignificant insurrection.
Within the Black Void, Terran Commander Lucience sat gloomily, shadows dancing across his face as he observed the display table before him. From his vantage, he watched as blue figures moved through the three-dimensional representation of Miller’s Glen. The blue forces, led by larger blocks that were representative of his small collection of tanks, advanced across the frozen rubble fields and flooded like ants into the business district.
The inside of the Void, once used as a bar, had been gutted following the invasion. The tables that once sat in the center of the room had all been removed, as had the raised bar that once accentuated the entire far wall. In its stead, Commander Lucience had insisted on placing a tall-backed chair, one salvaged from the raids on the local businesses. Sitting in the chair, Lucience felt almost regal, an approximation of what he hoped to one day attain. If he could maintain control of Othus during the Terran invasion of Interstellar Alliance space, the Terran Premier very possibly would knight him. Sir Lucience had a good ring to it, he thought.
He turned the image on the table, the only other piece of furniture that furbished the now empty bar. His men had placed rugs and hung artwork on the walls to make it a more befitting throne room for the ruler of Othus, but he preferred the empty space to the clutter he had seen elsewhere in the Empire. Some rulers found it to be a requirement that all nobility flaunt their wealth with statues and ostentatious fountains, which made movement through their homes next to impossible. But practicality wasn’t the desired effect.
Lucience observed an overhead view of the city, marking with interest the clusters of red dots moving chaotically through the streets of the business district, on a collision course with his own troops. His two bodyguards watched from over his shoulder, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. Though the insurgents outnumbered his own men nearly five to one, Commander Lucience was hardly concerned. His men all wore body armor and carried an arsenal far more impressive than any mundane weapons the slaves could have gathered. There was little doubt in his mind that the uprising would be dealt with swiftly and harshly.
“Sir,” one of his bodyguards gestured toward the map, “aren’t those yellow dots the Lithids?”
Lucience arched an eyebrow as he drummed his fingers together. “So they are. I guess we’ll have to deal with them as well.”
The first two tanks rolled down the snow-covered street, followed by a wave of infantry who used the armor of the tank for cover against any potential attack. The streets were empty around the Terrans, but they could hear the din of distant voices crying out in unison. The survivors were marching to battle and the Terrans marched to meet them, bewildered that such a lightly armed force would dare rise up against the occupation.
The squadron commander for the Terran force sat within the turret of the left tank, scanning the area with his night vision goggles, searching for signs of the approaching enemies. “Still nothing on our front, sir,” he reported into the microphone projected from his helmet. “We are moving forward to…”
His words were cut short as the first round tore through his chest, shattering the body armor. Floundering in surprise, the squadron commander shook only once before collapsing across the turret, spilling his blood down the front of the tank. From all directions, gunfire erupted around the combined heavy and light squadron. Infantry ran for cover, only to discover awaiting Uligarts and Oterians firing bursts of fire from the alcoves and storefronts toward which they ran. The armor piercing rounds tore through the Terran defenses, slaughtering the infantry where they stood. Leaping from the shadows, Wyndgaarts wielding molecular blades sliced through armor, severing limbs and cutting heads from shoulders as they danced through the crowd of startled soldiers. Above, the Avalons of the ambush team opened fire from their sniper positions, killing Terrans indiscriminately.
The tanks reacted quicker than did the infantry. The first tank’s turret spun, the squadron commander’s body twisting with it, and it fired through the front display window of one of the nearby stores. Hiding within, the four revolutionaries had no time to flee before the ionized plasma round struck. Fireworks of blue and purple flared from the ground floor as windows shattered up and down the street. The concussion from the blast lifted Terrans and revolutionaries alike from their feet and threw them limply into the surrounding buildings. Many soldiers from both sides didn’t get up following the blast.
The second tank took aim at one of the sniper positions; high within the girders of the destroyed high rise buildings. Its blast decimated the upper floors of the building, lighting up the dark sky and raining flaming metal down on top of the exposed soldiers fighting in the streets. Breaking off their attacks, the infantry ran for cover as deadly debris crashed into the ground around them.
Sitting in one of the buildings nearby, the Avalon who had served as Alcent’s bodyguard shielded his eyes as the plasma engulfed the other sniper position. Snarling, he dropped his rifle and picked up the rocket launcher nearby. Bracing himself against the closest girder, he lifted the bright silver weapon and let the launcher’s harness brace firmly in the crook of his shoulder. Activating the laser sight, a single beam leapt from the front of the weapon, tracking and painting the open turret of the first tank. Pulling the trigger, a cacophony of sound rumbled through the building as f
ire erupted from the back of the weapon. Though temporarily blinded, the laser sight had already done its job. Even without the Avalon being able to watch the movement of the rocket, the round followed the pre-programmed laser sight, slamming into the body that hung half in and half out of the tank’s turret. The rocket tore through the soft body of the Terran and found the tank’s interior, flooding the crew cabin with deadly plasma. Igniting the rounds and fuel cells stored within, the tank exploded in a fireball that shattered the wall next to it. The shockwave from the explosion lifted the nearby tank. Rolling wildly, the second tank slammed into a building across the street and fell heavily to the ground, its inertial dampeners destroyed.
The revolutionaries cheered as they attached explosives to the second tank. Detonating it, the incendiary rounds burned straight through the hull, pouring superheated magnesium into the crew cabin. Though most were killed as the flames encompassed the interior of the tank, the poisonous gas created as the explosives burned through the hull quickly overcame the crewmen who miraculously survived the fire. Falling unconscious, the flames rolled over their bodies, killing them in their sleep.
The Avalon set down the rocket and pulled out his radio. “Ambush Team Alpha successful.” He frowned as he observed the battlefield. Though the ambush team had destroyed the Terran assault on this street, they lost nearly three quarters of their own men.
“Ambush Team Bravo, successful,” a voice cried exuberantly over the radio.
“Ambush Team Charlie, successful,” cried another. “Terrans in full retreat.”
Commander Lucience frowned as he watched the display. His blue forces were disappearing from the display, but he could see no red forces that were causing the destruction. As far as he could tell, the remaining insurgents were still four blocks from where his forces were being destroyed, too far for them to be responsible.
“Explain,” he demanded, his bodyguards quickly perusing the reports in an attempt to find an answer.
“Long range weaponry?” the first guard offered.
“Impossible,” Lucience replied. “They would have no tracking mechanism to deliver so exact a payload. Anyways, we would have observed a ranged attack from the satellite display.” He turned toward the second guard inquisitively. “Is everything copasetic with the satellite array?”
“Telemetry from the satellite appears to be in working order, sir,” the second bodyguard replied. “There is no explainable reason why we are not receiving feedback on the source of attack against our troops.”
Commander Lucience snarled. “It doesn’t matter, let them come.” His snarl turned until it became a malicious grin. “I have more surprises for them yet. Send in the fighters and bring me the control panel for the bracelets.”
The crowd pushed past the destroyed remains of the tanks and Terran infantry, surging now toward the rubble fields. As they approached, the Lithids drew to a stop as they observed the lines of enemy defensive positions hastily created on the edge of the business district. Keryn came to a stop as well, having forced her way through the throngs of people and joined the armed assault team in the front of the formation.
“Find cover!” Penchant yelled as the Terran forces opened fire. The majority of Lithids and the assault team scrambled behind rubble and buildings, getting themselves out of harm’s way before the gunfire began. The crowd, however, failed to move and covered the street like a sea of immobilized targets. For many in the group, they had marched from the residential district to where they were now, never fully aware of the threat they faced. For others, the march to the rubble fields each day had become a way of life, one that wouldn’t be hindered regardless of who was giving their orders. Whatever their reasons, they stood tall and proud as the rounds tore through their ranks.
The initial volley left the streets covered with bodies and slick with blood. Spurred into movement, the rest of the crowd scattered, fleeing haphazardly in all directions. Keryn had expected as much and, honestly, had incorporated the chaos into her battle plan. Ducking low beneath the pile of rubble she was using for cover, she turned toward the one thing she hadn’t planned for.
“Penchant,” she yelled over the din of gunfire, “I need someone to take care of those defensive positions!”
Penchant roared in anger and leapt from his cover, his massive, powerful legs covering over half the distance in his first bound. The other Lithids quickly followed suit. Knowing that death was inevitable for them, the Lithids fought like the monsters whose form they had taken. Slamming into the hasty Terran positions, they tossed rubble and bodies alike into the air. Their elongated claws tore through the armor of the Terran soldiers as they sank their rows of razor sharp teeth into others, grinding through the soft flesh. Though a number of the Lithids died from gunfire, many more seemed to shrug off the wounds they received and kept on fighting.
As the Terrans began to retreat from their positions, the Lithids stopped their assault and stood, staring at one another. Taking advantage of the sudden lull in the battle, the Terrans found new cover and watched intently. As quiet settled over the battlefield, Keryn could hear a faint beeping.
“No,” she whispered into the air. Standing, she walked toward the Lithids and the stunned Terrans.
“No, not now,” she said a little louder as others of the assault team rose from their positions and began moving forward.
Penchant turned, his eyes filled with the same fear she felt. He raised his wrist so she could see the red lights flashing around the bracelet, their flashing increasing at a steady pace. Sighing, he let his body transform back to his natural state, his eyes disappearing behind the black slate of his face. Following suit, all the other Lithids did as well.
“We knew it would happen,” Penchant called back to her. “It was inevitable.”
He turned and faced the Terrans. Their resolve strengthened from watching the monsters transform into more manageable sizes, the infantry was beginning to take up positions behind cover within the rubble field.
“At least I got what I want,” Penchant yelled, the beeping on his wrist reaching a deadly crescendo. “I got my blaze of glory!”
Howling in fury, Penchant and the other Lithids charged into the Terran ranks. They didn’t swing a single claw nor did their spear-like tails strike any of their opponents. Instead, they pinned the Terrans to the ground, often two or more at a time.
Staring at their scared faces, Penchant roared in rage on last time. “We are Lithids, and we are proud!” Suddenly, the beeping stopped. Fireballs erupted all along the Terran defensive line. The explosives in the bracelets were meant to not only kill the Lithid wearing it, but anyone foolish enough to tamper with it as well. The radius of the explosion, as a result, was large enough to engulf entire bunkers of infantry.
Keryn covered her mouth as tears streamed down her face. She knew she wasn’t alone in her grief. Many of the assault team shed tears for those they barely knew before the revolution began, but who died with such furor on the battlefield.
Choking back a sob, Keryn stood, signaling the others forward. “Their ranks are broken,” she cried, tears stinging her eyes. “Let’s drive them back to the hangars!”
CHAPTER 24:
Yen knocked softly on the door to the War Room, awaiting the call to enter before opening the door. He stepped inside and was surprised at the darkness within. The lights had been dimmed, leaving only a soft glow to outline the Captain’s form sitting at the large table. Lights that were not important for illuminating the center table had been turned off. Even the dark monitors around the room watched the Captain’s brooding like silent sentinels.
“Please, Yen,” the Captain said softly, her voice a reflection of the darkness of the room, “please come in.”
Wordlessly, he took a seat across the table, trying to read her facial expressions in the gloom. In all the time of serving under her command, Yen couldn’t remember the last time she had used his first name. Her face seemed slack and lacked the confidence that norm
ally exuded when she entered a room. Shoulders slumped, she looked defeated.
“Ma’am,” he said quietly, not wanting to shatter the delicate mood held in the room, “are you okay?”
The Captain reached up and rubbed eyes that Yen now noticed were swollen.
“I’m fine,” she said, her eyes rising to meet his. “Who am I kidding? I’m not fine.”
Yen waited, expecting her to continue. When she didn’t, he took the liberty of speaking first. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Captain Hodge sat up straight and turned in her chair until she was facing the back wall. She wiped her eyes again, trying to regain the composure that had slipped away while she sat alone. Compassion rose unexpectedly in Yen. In all his time aboard the Revolution, he had never seen weakness in Captain Hodge. Yet now, she sat across from him with her soul exposed.
“I have been in command of this ship for a long time, Yen,” she began, the words tumbling over one another as she hurried to get them all out. “In all that time, I have never been placed in a more dangerous situation, with so much riding on my shoulders. And now, only now, my entire crew is falling apart. We need everyone we can get if we expect to win, but my Tactical Officer is dead and my Communications Officer is in the brig accused of his murder. We’re falling apart and it could cost all of us our lives if I don’t get a handle on the situation.”
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, her voice quivering.
Yen wanted to speak, to console her, but he couldn’t find the words. For a brief moment, the thought of using his powers to help her regain her strength crossed his mind, but he quickly brushed it aside. He understood her turmoil, with so much hanging in the balance. But what scared him the most was that Captain Hodge had always been stoic to the point of being impersonal. To see her as a person, as he did now, worried him more than anything.
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