by Chris Fox
He joined the flow of traffic, keeping his distance from a group of reptilian aliens the others were clearly avoiding. The reptiles carried worn black rifles, ancient but well cared for. He didn’t know if the red-scaled creatures were a gang, or part of the military ruling this world, but either way he didn’t need the attention.
“Every last one of these species are bipedal,” Lena mused quietly. “Their limbs are roughly the same proportions as ours. Most are larger than us, but they seem to follow a similar evolutionary pattern, just like we’ve observed in our part of the galaxy.”
“That seems like an awfully big coincidence.” Nolan eyed a stocky alien behind one of the stalls. It watched them with a single large eye that reminded him uncomfortably of the Gorthians. “If these races are all the same, I’ve got to wonder if there’s some sort of connection in the distant past.”
“If there is, even the ancient Primo didn’t know about it,” Lena replied.
“Does it matter?” Hannan hissed. “We’re supposed to be here on recon, not an archeological dig.”
“It matters,” Nolan snapped. He glanced back at the one-eyed alien, but it had turned to help a customer. “We need to know who and what we’re dealing with. The more we understand about their origins, the more we can tell the admiral.”
An eight-foot alien lumbered by on the right, casually swatting Lena out of its path. She was flung into a booth, knocking over a tray of fruit. The shopkeeper, a squat alien in some sort of water suit, chattered at her in a language that consisted mostly of hoots and squeals. It sounded like a dolphin.
Hannan snapped her rifle to her shoulder, training it on the alien. Nolan rushed over to help Lena to her feet, gesturing apologetically at the shopkeeper.
“Put that away,” he snapped at Hannan. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
He pushed Lena gently back into traffic, nodding at Hannan to follow. Hannan slung the rifle back over her shoulder and tightened her cloak.
The shopkeeper continued to shout at them as they moved quickly away. Almost everyone was shooting them interested looks, but Nolan forced himself not to run. That, more than anything else, would invite curiosity from the locals. He ducked down an alley, cutting across to the next street, which was narrower and didn’t look to be an official part of the market. Small clusters of locals chatted around makeshift hovels, eyeing them suspiciously from the shadows.
A barking laugh came from up the street, and the locals scattered. Tent flaps were pulled down, lights extinguished, and drinks abandoned. Nolan peered up the street, shrinking back against the wall when a pack of red-scaled reptiles approached. They were similar to the other group, but this pack was larger, and instead of the mismatched armor theirs was a uniform red, slightly darker than their scales.
“Engage stealth belts,” he ordered quietly, thumbing the button on his armor. A latticework of blue energy flared around his body, then faded. Nolan stepped into shadows, confident that he was hidden—visually at least.
Hannan drew her rifle again, then disappeared. Lena faded a moment later.
The reptiles came closer, still laughing. One of them paused next to a lump in the shadows. He gave the lump a sharp kick, and the lump recoiled into a sitting position.
It was a white-furred creature with spindly arms and large dark eyes. The alien shrank away from the reptile, but the reptile bent to seize it. He hauled the alien into the air by its neck, drawing cruel laughter from its companions.
The reptile holding the squirming alien distended its jaw, then lunged. Its teeth sank into the alien’s shoulder, and the alien squealed. Nolan forced himself to look away, blocking out its cries. Thankfully, they were quickly silenced. The reptiles continued to feed, and Nolan had no choice but to stay there, listening to the horrible crunching.
A voice whispered from a shadowed doorway a few feet up the alley. “You were wise to hide yourself. They are distracted. If you are going to move, now is the time to do it. I know of a safe place, if you’re willing to trust me.”
Nolan darted a glance at the reptiles, then back at the doorway. There was no sign of the speaker.
“Lena,” he said, “you’re with me. Hannan, keep your distance. If our new friend appears to be a threat, eliminate him.”
Nolan crept toward the doorway, taking great care where he placed his feet. The several seconds it took to reach the doorway were an eternity, and he didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he was safely through.
He jerked his head around when he heard a crunch, and winced when he realized Lena had kicked a stone. One of the reptiles raised its head, smearing blood across its cheek. Its eyes passed over the doorway, but it shrugged and went back to feeding.
Lena’s feet crunched again, but more softly this time. She made it safely into the room, and Nolan finally turned to search for the mysterious speaker.
Something large lurked in the shadows, but Nolan couldn’t make out much beyond the dull glint of battered environmental armor. The figure was tall, certainly over two meters. An old pistol was belted to its side, and a knife was tucked into a sheath on the calf. The barrel of a rifle extended over the creature’s shoulder.
Whoever this was, they were much better armed than most of the people they’d passed in the market.
“Who are you, and how did you know we were there?” Nolan asked quietly. He had many other questions, but those were the two most important ones.
“I am T’kon, of the Azi clan,” the creature rumbled. “I saw you activate your stealth tech. I’ve been following you since you entered the market.”
“Why? And how do you speak our language?” Nolan asked. He heard gravel crunch, the only sign that Hannan had entered the room.
“Because we have a common enemy. I can take you to one of your fellow warriors, if you’re willing to trust me. As for how I speak your tongue, you’re likely more able to explain that than I. I spent a few minutes with your companion, and was suddenly able to understand her.”
T’kon’s explanation made sense. Clearly he’d been exposed to the viral agent.
Hannan’s voice came from the shadows at the back of the room. “Sir, we can’t trust this guy,”
Nolan glanced through the doorway at the reptiles. They’d nearly finished their meal. He turned back to Hannan. “Right now, we don’t have any other choice. He might have found someone from Alpha Company, and we need to link up with any survivors. If he wanted to screw us over, he could have just alerted our friends out there.”
“True,” Hannan allowed. “Your call, sir.”
“Do we not need local intelligence?” Lena added. “Well, now we have it. Let’s be away from here quickly. I’ve already seen too much for my taste.”
“All right, T’kon. You’ve got our trust for now. Lead us to whatever bolthole you’ve got set up, and we’ll see if we can find some common ground.”
16
Reunited
Nolan followed the hulking alien through the remains of the building, slipping through a hole in the far wall. T’kon led them through a series of narrow alleys, quickly moving away from the area with the Saurians. He didn’t speak, or even glance in their direction—just hurried along, ignoring the few aliens they passed. Those aliens carefully avoided looking at them, and Nolan sensed that they recognized their guide, or at least the type of armor he wore. They were just a little too interested in anything but T’kon.
They finally entered the narrowest alley yet, barely a meter across. T’kon squeezed his bulk down the alley, stopping in front of a bent metal panel. He picked it up with both hands, sliding it down a few feet, then waved Nolan forward.
“Inside. Quickly.”
Nolan didn’t hesitate, ducking through the newly created opening. He emerged into a small workshop, with a bedroll laid out along one wall. A box of empty shells sat on the corner of the workbench. The shells were incredibly similar to a .45 round. They were longer and a little fatter, and the metal was more silvery than
lead—but those were bullets, he was sure of it.
Lena followed him into the room, then Hannan brought up the rear. She still had her weapon drawn; while it wasn’t aimed directly at T’kon, it wasn’t very far from it.
T’kon ducked inside the opening, then reached through to move the panel back into place. He cocked his head as if listening. “I don’t believe we were followed. We should be safe here, for the time being.”
Nolan scanned the room again, noting the doorway on the far side. It stood open, revealing a corridor beyond. That corridor was lined with blue and green cloth, matching some that he’d seen while they were in the market. This must be the back area for one of the merchant stalls.
“Who’s that?” Nolan demanded, pointing through the doorway. Two figures were silhouetted against the cloth walls, moving in their direction.
“Friends.” T’kon reached up to the neck of his armor, popping it off with a hiss, and set the helmet down. Leaning into the light, he said, “Aluki is the Whalorian who runs this shop, and the other is one of your people.”
Nolan took a moment to study the alien. He was the same species as the giant armored apes, though closer examination showed that the resemblance to primates wasn’t a perfect comparison. His long fur was light brown, covering his entire body. A ridged forehead, somewhat similar to a Neanderthal, overshadowed a pair of very human eyes. Below those eyes the creature had four nostrils, breathing in a different cadence.
T’kon was larger than a human, and more heavily muscled, too. In a straight physical confrontation, Nolan doubted even Fizgig would be able to take him.
“Nolan!” a familiar voice called from the doorway. Annie rushed into the room, giving him a fierce hug. Her armor was coated in red dust, and she had deep bags under her eyes, but she was alive. “I’d thought you guys had gotten cooked by that dino-mountain-looking thing. I’m so glad to see you still breathing.”
Nolan returned the hug, just as fiercely. “Damned good to see you too, Annie.” He stepped aside, allowing Hannan to slip in for a hug of her own. Lena was too proper to show physical affection, but he could tell from the way her tail swished that she, too, was pleased.
“So how’d you end up here?” Hannan, wearing a broad smile, stepped away from Annie.
Annie nodded toward the quiet little alien still standing in the doorway. Nolan realized instantly why the translator had given the name of her race as Whalorian. She looked like a little grey whale with short stubby arms and stocky legs. Aluki breathed through a blowhole, and her broad grin exposed rough baleen instead of teeth. The fluid in her suit was probably saltwater, or whatever her kind swam in back on her world.
“Well, I woke up in a busted mech to find Aluki here sniffing around the cockpit. She escorted me back here, and told me that her and her big friend there were going to try to find other soldiers. Apparently, they’ve got a hate on for what they call the Ganog Imperium. That’s who bushwhacked Alpha Company. T’kon has been looking for you since yesterday.”
Nolan thought that might have been the most Annie had ever said without swearing in one sitting.
“I’m grateful that he found us,” he said. He leaned against the wall, relaxing a hair for the first time since they’d broken atmosphere. “The question is, why was he looking in the first place?”
“A valid question.” T’kon rumbled. “My species is called the Ganog. Are you familiar with my race?” The way he asked the question suggested he expected a yes.
“No,” Nolan admitted. “This is only our second encounter with yours. The first was just a week ago, when one of our fleets was wiped out in a system about a dozen light years from here. We still have no idea why the fleet was attacked in the first place. We approached peacefully.”
“Mmm, the Ganog Imperium would have seen that as weakness,” the short, stocky alien explained. She blinked large, childlike eyes. “The clan that controls this sector is called the Vkash, and they are led by Takkar. T’kon’s clan, the Azi, are blood enemies.”
“That explains why he might be willing to help us. What about you?” Nolan asked.
“The Imperium conquered my world, and many worlds like it. Mmm, we have been forced to become labor-slaves. We are worked until we die, with no hope of freedom. You fought back against them, and I’ve heard that your fleet damaged a dreadnought.”
“Do you know what happened to our fleet?” Nolan demanded, more harshly than he’d intended.
“I’m afraid not,” T’kon interjected smoothly. The alien had a cultured sophistication that belied his rugged exterior. His battered armor simply didn’t fit the way he spoke. “Rumors say that some escaped, but we don’t know how many, or even if the rumors are true. I tend to believe them, judging by the clan leader’s response. He’s offered a bounty for any human or Tigris found on this world. The holocriers that are passed out at every market contain images of both your races. That bounty states that you are to be taken alive. Very unusual.” T’kon folded massive arms, and his fur darkened from blond to deep brown-black. “Takkar has dispatched Krekon to find you. Krekon is a Ganog melter with the ability to pry secrets from minds. He is an implacable hunter, feared across not just Vkash space, but the whole of the Imperium. Krekon has never met failure, and if more of your people are out there, he will find them.”
“We don’t even know if our people are alive.” Hannan’s tone was cool, and she was still aiming her weapon roughly in T’kon’s direction. “Assuming you’re telling the truth about helping us, how do you plan to find our people before this Krekon?”
“And what about this ‘melter’ business?” Lena asked. “I’d like to know more about that. How does he pry secrets from the mind? Is there a device involved?” She’d taken on the dogged expression she wore whenever she ran across something she didn’t know.
“I will answer each question in turn. Melters can tear apart your mind, taking your memories as you unravel. This ability is rare among Ganog, and requires years of intense study to master. It is a branch of a science we call metabiology.” T’kon’s fur darkened further, to deep black. “Krekon is the most ruthless of melters, and will kill dozens of ka’tok to learn where you are. Given enough time, he will find someone who saw one of your people. He will use that information to track your friends.”
T’kon’s lower nostrils flared, and he took a series of slow, deep breaths. His fur returned to a soft brown.
“As for how I know your people are alive, there was a disturbance in the market a few hours ago. Two bipeds with unfamiliar weaponry robbed a stall, taking food and some spare electronics.”
“That could definitely be our people,” Nolan admitted. “You think you can find them?”
“I found you,” the Ganog pointed out. “I cannot make promises, but like Krekon, I am also a hunter. I will do what I can to locate your companions, provided you are willing to help me in return.”
“Here it comes,” Hannan muttered.
Annie elbowed her in the side, giving her a pointed look.
“Help you do what?” Nolan asked.
“I want to destroy Takkar’s planetstriders.”
Annie spoke up. “That’s the big dino-mech looking things that blew up our forces, right?”
“Indeed. Planetstriders are the Ganog’s most potent weapon, even more so than our dreadnoughts. Remove even one of them, and we weaken Takkar significantly. The embarrassment will jeopardize his position with the Empress.”
Nolan’s comm unit began to vibrate. He pulled it from his suit pocket. “The camera we left at the ship just went online.”
“Some sort of communication device?” the Ganog asked.
“Here, I’ll show you.” Nolan tapped the screen, and the comm broadcast a small hologram. It showed several mech-sized Ganog, weapons at the ready. A swarm of smaller reptilian figures followed, and began surrounding the Peregrine. “What are they doing?”
“Mmm, they’re stripping your vessel,” Aluki explained. “They will take most of th
e valuable components. Once they leave, scavengers will take the rest. If I weren’t here with you I’d be in line to get what I could. New technology is rare.”
Lena gave a heavy, defeated sigh. “Well, that confirms that we need another way home.”
“We’ll find one,” Nolan said. It pained him physically to see the Peregrine being torn apart by the enemy, but the time for payback was coming.
17
Mounds
“Nolan, wake up. I think you should see this.”
Nolan tensed, reaching instinctively for his sidearm. T’kon loomed above him, wearing the battered armor he never seemed to remove.
“I’m up. Just give me a sec,” Nolan muttered. He rolled from his bedroll, stretching as he stood. Sleeping in his armor had left him sore. “What is it?”
“Sir, we moving out?” Hannan asked, sitting up in her bedroll. She blinked past a yawn, brushing her hair from her face.
“Sounds like it. Wake Annie, and let her know she’ll be staying here with Lena.” Nolan took a sip from the water hose clipped to his shoulder, then turned to T’Kon. “All right, what is it you wanted to show me?”
“They’re rebuilding the mounds. It’s something your leaders will wish to know about.” The Ganog lifted the panel, exposing the alleyway. T’kon slid through, and Nolan followed. He scooped up his helmet on the way out, snapping it into place as he exited.
T’kon led him out of the alley, and began climbing the jagged edge of a shattered building. Nolan had little trouble navigating the uneven bricks, quickly following T’kon to the third level. The Ganog had stopped, and was staring into the distance.
Nolan followed his gaze, freezing as he understood why T’kon had brought him. “My god. What are they doing?”
Stones, rusted vehicles, and parts of buildings levitated into the air. Thousands of tons of material began slowly moving toward one of the planetstriders. The debris began assembling itself, filling in the gaps that had been created in the mound when the planetstriders had first revealed themselves.