by Chris Fox
The Saurian knelt at his feet, forehead pressed to the ground. Krekon waited several seconds, enjoying the sight. “Rise. Explain to me, Sissus, why you sent only one pack to engage these aliens. Where is the rest of your clutch?”
“Apologies, Master. I thought it prudent to move swiftly, and sent my fastest pack. I believed they would be sufficient to distract your enemies until the rest of us arrived. Clearly I was mistaken.”
The Saurian continued to grovel, and its tone was properly subservient. Krekon was mollified. For now. He stalked up the ramp and into the vessel, tossing his spear onto the rack against the wall. Sissus scurried in after him, bowing repeatedly.
“The only way the enemy could have reached the scene this quickly was with help. They’ve met someone in the market—a Ganog. If they are using the locals for assistance, then we shall remove the locals.” Krekon’s fur darkened to a bitter red. Soon, he’d be able to vent his fury.
“What would you have us do, Master?” Sissus asked, eyes downcast.
“Execute everyone within a quarter cycle’s walk. All of them,” Krekon roared, smashing an armored fist into the metal wall. “Have their bodies brought here. I will sift through their minds until we find what we need.”
21
Go to Ground
Nolan tightened his dirty cloak around him, hurrying down the alleyway. The squad was strung out in a ragged line, trying to avoid notice as they threaded past the edge of the market. No one spoke; they kept their heads down until they finally reached Aluki’s shop.
Instead of circling around to the panel in the back, T’kon led them straight through the front door. More than one shopkeeper eyed them suspiciously, and Nolan had no doubt that word would soon reach the enemy that they’d been sighted here.
“Why are we risking this?” Nolan called to T’kon. He hurried forward, moving into step with the larger alien.
“The kill squads will come soon.” T’kon stepped over a passed-out alien, quickening his step. “Stopping here is a terrible risk, but I will not leave Aluki. Krekon will do worse than kill her.”
“Wait,” Burke demanded, moving to stand in front of T’kon. The alien stopped, and Burke pointed accusingly up at him. “You’re telling me that you know hostiles are inbound, but you’re taking us through a very public market to rescue a single alien? Nolan, you cannot be okay with this. We need to get out of here. Now. Before those transports arrive.”
“You haven’t been listening,” Nolan snapped, shoving Burke away from T’kon. “If these kill squads get Aluki, they’ll bring her to Krekon. He can pull secrets from dead people, remember? He’ll learn everything she knows, and she knows entirely too much about us. So we save her, and then bug out. Got it?”
Burke’s only answer was a sour nod, but he stepped out of T’kon’s path.
Nolan followed T’kon toward Aluki’s shop, through the fluttering cloth corridors, winding their way closer to the workshop. “So where are you planning to go? Do you have some sort of safe house set up?”
“You’ve mentioned a safe place, a place where you are storing these mechs of yours.” T’kon finally stopped, turning that bestial face Nolan’s way. “We get Aluki, and we hope we can reach this bolthole undetected. If we can’t—if Krekon’s kill squads follow us—then we’ll die.”
“Fair enough.” Nolan followed T’kon into the workshop, moving to grab his pack. He hoisted it over his shoulder as Hannan did the same. “We had the benefit of the storm then. I’m not sure how we can get there now without attracting notice.”
Burke stepped inside, and Nuchik trailed in after. They moved to stand in the far corner of the workshop, as far from Nolan as they could get while still being in the room. Their expressions were stony, their gaze unwavering as they stared hard at him.
“Hannan, go grab Lena and Annie. Tell them to pack whatever they can in sixty seconds. Then we’re moving out. We’ll break into teams and circle back to the safe point.”
Hannan nodded, giving Nuchik a hard glare as she left the room. Nuchik met that gaze just as fiercely.
“T’kon, can you find Aluki?”
“Of course.” The Ganog ducked out of the room, leaving Nolan alone with Burke and Nuchik.
Nolan stalked over to them, standing in front of Burke. “You’ve clearly got a problem. Let’s hear it, Lieutenant. You’ve got sixty seconds to vent, then I need you to pack up your bullshit and focus on the mission.”
“You want to know what my problem is?” Burke took a step closer. His eyes blazed. “Reval died to give you a chance to make it back to the fleet, but you screwed up that chance. You got yourself shot down, and Reval died for nothing. Alpha Company died for nothing. You’ve defaced your armor, you’re already working with aliens we have no way of vetting, and you’ve given away valuable intel. You’re a disgrace, Captain. The only reason you made it into the 1st is that you’ve cozied up to the Tigris.”
Nolan breathed through his nose—long slow breaths. “You finished?” he asked.
“No, I’m not finished.” Burke’s tone rose, carrying well past the room. “There’s a reason you wound up in the 14th, Captain. You’re a piss-poor officer from an undisciplined unit. The only reason you had the opportunity to play hero in the Battle of Earth was that all the better men were dead. I still remember when command dispatched the 1st to hunt down the Johnston. It’s a pity we didn’t catch you.”
Nuchik didn’t say anything, but she crossed her arms and moved to stand with Burke. That made her stance pretty clear.
“Time’s up, Lieutenant.” As Burke had, Nolan put all the emphasis on the rank. “Now it’s my turn. You’re a good soldier. You get the job done. Alpha Company is very good, some of the best people I’ve ever worked with. But you know what? You’re arrogant. You’re shortsighted. You believe that humanity can win this war—can win every war—all by themselves. You don’t get that we need allies. You don’t get that the reason you lost friends in the Battle of Tigrana was the Gorthians, not the Tigris. They orchestrated that war. They duped both sides. Had you caught the Johnston, odds are good that Earth would be a wasteland and our species would be all but extinct.”
Nolan stabbed Burke in the chest with a finger. Burke tensed; his face grew ugly, just a tiny push away from violence.
Nolan didn’t care. “Our armor is defaced because we’re guerrillas now, Burke. We’re not mech pilots who get to retreat safely to the fleet when the battle is done. We’re working with locals, because we don’t have a choice. If we don’t trust them, we die.”
“If we do trust them—”
“Shut up, Lieutenant.” Nolan leaned closer. “If we do trust them, they might betray us—or they might help us survive. And we need that help—make no mistake—just like we needed the Tigris to win against the Gorthians. If we hadn’t trusted them—our worst enemies—we’d have been wiped out. Now, this conversation is over. Unless you plan to mutiny?”
“No, sir,” Burke snarled. He stalked to the edge of the room. Nuchik didn’t follow immediately, instead squatting against the wall a few feet away. She wore a thoughtful expression.
Hannan led the others into the room, the timing just a bit too convenient to be coincidence. Good, the squad had needed to hear that. They needed to know what was at stake. Burke thought he was hot shit—and in combat he was. But he’d never had to work as an insurgent, never had to operate without backup. That was pretty much all Nolan and his squad ever did.
A sharp, alien scream sounded in the distance, then another. They were followed by the high-pitched whine of transport engines.
“The kill squads come,” Aluki piped. She moved to the panel at the back of the workshop. “Mmm, we need to go. Swiftly.”
Nolan gestured the squad forward. “Annie, you’re with Aluki and T’kon. Hannan, you’re with Nuchik. Burke, you’re with me. Take a winding route to the safe point, and do not use comms under any circumstances. Watch your sixes, people. If you lead them back to the bolthole, we all die. Mo
ve out.”
Annie gave a tight nod. “Come on, Aluki. I’ve been itching to show you a real core, not the half functional CPUs you peddle here.”
T’kon followed them, giving a respectful nod to Nolan as he passed. Hannan came next, giving Nuchik a withering look until the sniper followed her. Finally, it was just Burke and Nolan.
“I’ll take point. Cover my ass, Burke.” Nolan jumped through the gap in the wall, hoping that trusting Burke wasn’t going to mean a round in the back. Trust was the only currency he had at the moment.
The screams were punctuated by gunfire now—mostly plasma weapons, from the sound of it. The conflict was large, dozens of enemies sweeping through the market. They’d be here in moments.
Nolan turned and ran.
22
On the Run
T’kon was impressed by Nolan’s squad and their brusque efficiency. Hannan and Nuchik moved swiftly up the north alley, working together despite their clear animosity. Nolan and Burke moved south along the same alley, Nolan in the lead. T’kon was positive he’d not have exposed his flank to anyone that had exhibited the kind of hatred the fiery-haired human had. Any Vkash, or Kthul, would use that opportunity to remove a rival. Even the Azi would find the opportunity tempting.
Yet Nolan turned his back on the man. It was a curious response, and raised many questions about these humans.
Annie moved next, weaving through a skeletal building and onto the western thoroughfare. That was the most direct route to their destination: an unremarkable structure past the edge of the southern market. It lay outside the radius of the kill squads, though that wouldn’t buy more than a cycle or two.
T’kon waited for Aluki to follow Annie, then joined the trickle of traffic. He kept a little ways back, matching her pace as the screams retreated behind them. The trickle thinned as people retreated into their hovels, until they were the only ones still visible.
He thumbed the dial on his environmental regulator, allowing full atmosphere into his suit. That gave him access to every scent, the only way he might perceive a sniper. He scanned the ledges above, hoping that the kill squads would have driven opportunistic raiders back into hiding.
Not that they couldn’t easily deal with such raiders, but they couldn’t afford the commotion. Krekon’s scanners might pick up the weapons discharge, and even if they didn’t, any delay in seeking shelter gave the melter another chance to catch up.
Aluki paused, looking pointedly in T’kon’s direction. He hurried to her side, resting a nervous hand on his slug thrower.
“Why do you hesitate, little one?”
“Mmm, this will be the last opportunity we have to speak privately,” the Whalorian explained, moving back into her hurried waddle. It wasn’t quick, and it left a very obvious trail through the rust. Hopefully the wind tended to that quickly. It always did, eventually. “I wanted to ask what you planned.”
“And why would I share that with you?” T’kon asked, matching her pace as they followed Annie down a narrow alleyway. He breathed easier once they were off the main thoroughfare.
“Because I saved your life, and because I may do so again.” Aluki smiled at him through her suit. She knew she had him.
T’kon couldn’t help but smile back, his fur lightening to a soft blue. “Well played, little one. This Nolan is direct and competent, and has access to weaponry powerful enough to disable a dreadnought.”
“You’re really planning on assaulting a planetstrider, aren’t you?” Aluki’s tone made it clear exactly how sane she thought that was.
“Yes,” T’kon said simply. He ducked under a girder, and into the shadow of another building. “You know why.”
“I do not have to be Ganog to understand vengeance.” Aluki’s breathing quickened as she moved up a steeply sloping hill. “The Vkash took your worlds, your honor, and destroyed your planetstrider all at the same time. You, very predictably, have chosen to sell your life rectifying that slight.”
“You do not approve.”
“I approve of rectifying the slight. Mmm, I do not approve of selling your life to do it. Hurt the Vkash, live, then keep hurting the Vkash.” The Whalorian shook her head, then started walking again.
T’kon pressed ahead, reaching a well-lit thoroughfare.
Annie crouched near the edge of the alley. “Looks cleaner than a Primo’s backside,” she muttered, her words heavy with distrust. “I don’t like it. This whole walk has been a bit too easy. I feel like we’re due for a random ass-kicking.”
“I understand this feeling.” T’kon nodded in recognition. “It is not uncommon in warriors, especially those who’ve fought in many campaigns. Sometimes, though, it really is that easy.” He checked the readout on his armor’s comm. “We’re only a quarter-click away.”
“Best be about it then.” Annie trotted from cover, loping through ankle-deep rust as she crossed the final stretch of open terrain. T’kon withdrew his rifle, watching for movement as the human disappeared into the distance.
Aluki waddled from cover, making the same trek. It took her longer, but she made it without incident. Finally, T’kon sprinted after them. He flared his nostrils, crossing the distance in just a few seconds.
Ahead of them lay a wide building that ended abruptly after about twenty stories. It had likely been much larger, but everything above the foundation had become fodder for the mounds.
“Let’s get you inside, and introduce you to Edwards,” Annie said. She slid down the rust, moving inside the building.
23
Warp
Nolan dropped his pack next to the foot of his mech, leaning against it as he gulped down greedy lungfuls of air. The rest of the squad was winded, too, but neither of the aliens seemed fazed by the exertion in getting here so quickly.
He was just happy everyone had made it. Aluki was smiling happily, inspecting Edwards on the other side of the garage. T’kon stood next to Nolan, something like a shotgun resting against one shoulder. He seemed to have an endless array of weapons and explosives. The rest of the squad sat around Hannan’s mech, where the heater had been set up.
Nolan should have been over there, too, but he needed a break from Burke’s constant acid.
“This war machine is impressive.” T’kon stretched up a furry hand, running it along the mech’s thigh. “They performed well against the Imperium’s elites, something very few species have managed. Had it not been for the planetstriders, you’d have likely won the engagement.”
“So where do the planetstriders come from? And how many does the Imperium have?” Those answers would be critical to the war effort, but the question was asked from personal curiosity.
“The Vkash clan has three, and it is unusual for them to all be on a single world. That’s what drew me to Ganog 7—and after seeing your species fight, I understand why Takkar would gamble all three.” T’kon pulled himself up to the mech’s waist, inspecting the cockpit. “The Imperium as a whole has perhaps thirty striders, divided among the various clans.”
“Will Takkar call other clans to help him against my people?” Nolan asked.
“I doubt it. He’ll want to keep all plunder to himself. The technology you possess is new, and he’ll want to acquire all of it. Your scientists will be enslaved, forced to be what we call labor-slaves. They will help maintain Takkar’s tech, and, if possible, invent new tech for him to use.” T’kon finished his inspection, his fur fading to off-white. “Takkar is more than enough for any species to contend with, without needing to bring other clans into the fray. He commands six dreadnoughts and countless fighters. His planetstriders will warp to your most important worlds, destroying your manufacturing capabilities. Unless you possess a much larger war machine than this mech, you will not be able to stop them.”
“Warp?” Nolan asked. The term seemed self-explanatory, but he was hoping he was wrong about what the Ganog was saying.
“Your species doesn’t use warping? How do you travel from star system to star system?”
T’kon’s fur took on a blueish tint.
“We travel using what we call a Helios Gate. There’s one in this system’s star. You said that planetstriders can warp. How does that work?” Nolan removed his gauntlets, propping them against his pack.
“I am of the warrior caste, and not privy to such secrets. The planetstrider can warp at will, though the drive takes time to power up. It’s how they travel between worlds. Planetstriders are too heavy to break free of a gravity well any other way.” T’kon squatted down, removing his own gauntlets and exposing large, furry hands. “If your people do not possess planetstriders of their own, I find it unlikely that you will be able to stop them.”
“There has to be a way, and I intend to find it.” Nolan reached into his pack, removing a soybar. He tore the wrapper and took a bite. It tasted like ashes, but he chewed mechanically.
“I believe we are kindred spirits, Captain. I too have come to this world seeking a way to stop the planetstriders. I came close to achieving my goal, but was forced to retreat when your forces arrived. I saw inside the control unit, saw the core itself.” The Ganog spoke with a reverence that Nolan found intriguing. “The Nameless Ones forbid a warrior caste—or even a leadership caste—to witness the miracles inside the control unit. What I have done breaks all our traditions, but it was worth it. The core was beautiful, a glowing blue cube.”
“The planetstrider core is a glowing blue cube? That sounds a great deal like our cores.” Nolan pointed at Edwards, who was chatting amiably with Aluki. “Edwards was born human, like me. We used Primo technology to convert him into a core. In many ways, he is the mech. My mech runs on a Synthetic core, an artificial intelligence built from a neural imprint from a real person.”
“I do not understand. Are you telling me that you can manufacture these cores? Nolan, if that is true…the Imperium must never learn of it.”