by Chris Fox
“That’s the part you’re not going to like,” Kathryn admitted. She tapped her datapad, pursing her lips as she studied some numbers. “We’ve only made about twenty, and even with an aggressive production schedule we won’t have more than three rounds per vessel. The cannons will only fit on a cruiser, destroyer, or capital ship—though we’re working on smaller cannons for the frigates and corvettes. Those will take longer to produce.”
“That will be enough for a single full engagement,” Fizgig mused. “I cannot fight a war, but I could win a battle. An important one.”
“What are you thinking?” Kathryn asked.
The pair had never been close, but Fizgig still considered her Nolan’s female, despite their forced separation. They were family, in a way.
“Nolan is trapped on the enemy’s world. I intend to get him back.”
“You left him there?” Kathryn’s scent became acrid, and her eyes narrowed. The scientist mask was gone, replaced by the warrior Fizgig knew she was. “He could already be dead.”
“Dryker has forbidden me from attempting a rescue until these weapons are ready. His fate is in your hands, Kathryn.”
Kathryn’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “I wish we could speed up the process, but that’s just not possible. Nolan will have to hold his own, at least until we can get you your cannons.”
Fizgig’s comm unit buzzed. She snatched it from her belt, thumbing it awake. “I told you not to bother me during the inspection.”
“I know, sir,” Juliard said. “But, I think you’re going to want to know about this.”
“What is it?” she demanded.
“A device appeared on your chair. I was standing right there, and watched the air twist and fold around it. At first we worried it might be a bomb. I called in demolitions, and they confirmed it wasn’t. They inspected it and found a dat crystal inside, sir. That’s when we called you.”
“What does the dat crystal contain?” Fizgig asked.
“We haven’t read the contents, but it has Captain Nolan’s ident code.”
31
Are You Serious?
“You wanted to talk to me, sir?” Hannan asked. She removed the energy cell from her plasma rifle, checking for bits of rust before snapping it home again. The weapon didn’t really need to be checked, but she was nervous about this conversation, and the activity helped.
“I’m guessing you already know what this is about.” The way Nolan spoke made it clear he knew that she knew.
“Yeah,” Hannan said. “This is about that scrap I had with Burke and Nuchik.” She darted a glance to the far side of the garage, where Nuchik sat reading. Burke was nearby, cleaning his weapon. He glanced up at her, eyes hard. “Captain, she spat in Lena’s face. That would have been bad if Lena were human, but you know what kind of insult that is to a Tigris.”
“Yes, but Nuchik doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything about them, beyond the fact that Tigris have killed the men fighting beside her. Until the very end of the war with the Void Wraith, the Tigris were the enemy. That’s what she sees when she looks at Lena, or the admiral.” Nolan rested a hand on Hannan’s shoulder, giving her a squeeze. If another officer had done it, she’d have decked them. But Nolan had earned her trust, time and again.
“Captain, she called you an analyst. She called Annie a drunk,” Hannan protested. She hated that it sounded petulant. During the moment it had seemed so much more…urgent.
“I am an analyst. I worked in OFI, behind a desk for most of my brief career. My test scores in a mech aren’t going to change that. Look at Annie.” Nolan nodded in the older woman’s direction, nudging Hannan with his elbow. “She’s having a drink right now, that green stuff Aluki likes. She still chews tobacco and avoids words with more than two syllables.”
“So you’re saying Nuchik is right about us?” Hannan asked, hoping she was wrong.
“Of course not. You know what we did in the war. You know how instrumental we were. We got things done that the 1st could never have accomplished. But I also know what everyone else sees. Burke and Nuchik were drilled to believe they were the best. We look like a ragtag group of misfits. Their reaction isn’t surprising.”
“So what do we do about it?” Hannan asked, unsure where he was going with this line of logic.
“We ignore it. Burke and Nuchik will follow orders, and that’s all that matters. They don’t have to like us, and we don’t have to like them. Here’s the thing, though: if you spend time and energy hating them, that leaves us vulnerable before the real enemy. That’s why I work so hard to see things from their point of view. I don’t give a shit what they think about us; I’ve got more important things to think about. Understanding them helps me not care. I get it, and their beliefs are on them, not us.”
“Well said, sir.” Hannan smiled. She turned to watch Nuchik. The woman brushed scarlet hair from her face, which was illuminated by her datapad. “She’s studying the footage from the ambush. Trying to get better. She might be a bitch, but she’s a good soldier. I’ll focus on that.”
Something flashed in the corner of Hannan’s vision, and she snapped her rifle to her shoulder. The air popped and spun near the foot of the captain’s mech, folding in on itself in a way that made her nauseous.
It was the same warping effect she’d seen when they’d sent the message in a bottle to the admiral. She didn’t relax; if anything she grew more tense. Hannan didn’t lower her rifle until the effect ended, showing the rusty device they’d sent back to the fleet.
“Looks like Fizgig got the message,” the captain said. He knelt next to the device, pulling out the dat crystal. “Let’s see what the admiral has to say.” Nolan inserted the crystal into his comm, and a hologram sprang up.
Fizgig’s tiny form stared up at them. “Nolan, I am pleased that you live. The data you sent has been of great use, and we are creating a plan to retrieve your people. For that plan to succeed you must pave the way.”
“Why am I not surprised?” the captain muttered.
Hannan chuckled.
“These planetstriders are formidable. Their weapons can reach orbit, which makes any ship attempting to land a very tempting target. We cannot risk shuttles against that kind of firepower. You must find a way to bypass them and make it to orbit. Failing that, you must disable the planetstriders so that we can attempt a landing.” Fizgig hesitated, her holographic tail swishing behind her. “This native, T’kon, seems like an asset, but do not be your usual trusting self. He may betray you. Be prepared, Nolan. When you are ready for your escape, send a signal to the Helios Gate. We will come as swiftly as we are able.”
The hologram disappeared. Hannan met the captain’s gaze, trying to figure out what he thought of what he’d just been asked to do. With their limited forces, stopping those monstrosities seemed an impossibility. The Saurians only added a little firepower, and if they confronted a planetstrider they’d all end up dead.
Hannan watched as Nolan removed the chip and put it the neoprene pouch on his belt. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Burke, T’kon, come over here.”
The pair made their way over, Burke wearing his usual distrust, though maybe not so closely as usual. T’kon’s face was impassive, his upper nostrils taking long breaths while the lower were closed. His fur was a soft brown, which seemed to be the default when he wasn’t doing anything. She wasn’t positive how or why his fur changed color, but she was starting to get the idea it had something to do with his emotions.
“We need to plan an assault,” Nolan said. “Not just any assault, either. We need to hit all three planetstriders to ensure they can’t enter the fray when the fleet comes for us.”
T’kon’s fur shifted to a bright orange, and he began a whooping laugh. “You don’t want to stop just one strider, but all three? At the same time? Captain, I’ve alluded to the fact that I have seen their defenses. What I neglected to mention was how recent the encounter was. The day you arrived I was trying to disable a strider
. I made it to the control room, but barely escaped with my life.”
“Are you serious?” Hannan asked. “This just keeps getting better and better. Why not just ask us to kill Takkar while we’re at it?”
T’kon shook his head. “You are right to be concerned, but it is not so dire as you fear. I’ve seen your people. You react quickly, and if one of your installations was assaulted I imagine you’d raise security. Here, things are different. Everything is done by tradition. The number of defenders is prescribed, and while they will have replaced the Saurians I killed, I doubt they will have increased defenses. Not that the existing defenses are not formidable. Still, I do not see how we could assault all three planetstriders with our meager forces.”
“What about the Saurians you met, Nolan?” Burke asked. “Any chance they’d help us?”
Hannan was mildly surprised that the usual acid was absent from his tone, though she still bristled at his use of the captain’s name rather than his rank.
“Aluki?” Nolan asked, redirecting the question to the Whalorian.
“Mmm, it is unlikely they’ll take direct action. You must understand, Captain. These people are ka’tok. Garbage might be the closest word. They are raised from birth to understand that resistance is impossible, that they can never stop the Ganog. If you want them to help, you need to demonstrate comparable power.”
“They saw us fight,” Burke protested. “We killed dozens of their elites.”
T’kon shook his head. “Ultimately you were defeated, and your fleet driven away. The Saurians respect nothing but power, and if you cannot show that you have it, then do not count on any overt action on their behalf.”
32
He Knows
“Sissus, attend me,” Krekon roared, his voice echoing through the heavy cruiser’s cargo bay.
Sissus reluctantly unfolded from the welcoming warmth of his sleep pouch. He staggered to his feet, blinking away the void. Unlike many species, Saurians did not dream. This allowed them to wake swiftly, an evolutionary advantage that had allowed his species to rise to prominence.
Before the Ganog had enslaved their world, of course.
He moved swiftly up the corridor, toward the cargo bay. Unlike dreadnoughts, the cruisers had a much more conventional floor plan. The vessel used small metal rooms, a much more efficient use of the limited space in such a vessel.
“I am here, Master,” Sissus said, rushing to Krekon’s side. “What is your wish?” He effected a servile tone, imagining his fangs around Krekon’s furry throat.
“Prepare your pouchmates, Sissus. Soon, the hunt begins.” Krekon sounded pleased, the first time he’d been civil since his meeting with Takkar. Something had clearly changed.
“Of course, Master. At once. May I know our destination, to bring the proper tools of death?” Sissus asked, oh so cautiously.
He was a worm. Servile, worthless ka’tok. He buried his warrior pride.
“These new aliens have finally made a mistake, Sissus,” Krekon said. His fur lightened to blue-green, for smug joy. “We detected a warp signature in the south warrens. A small one, but it came from an uninhabited area. The ka’tok do not possess such technology. I have gathered the best of my elites. We will slaughter their warriors, and capture their leaders. Now ready your pouchmates, Sissus. And do not question me again. My patience for such indulgences is limited.”
Sissus bowed low, scurrying from the room. As soon as he’d exited he rose to his full height, stalking back toward the sleep chamber. His mind raced. If Krekon was correct—and Sissus strongly suspected he was—then the humans would be unprepared for the assault. If he couldn’t find a way to warn them, they were dead.
“Get up, younglings.” He picked the pouch closest to the door, delivering a hard kick. It drew a surprised grunt. “We hunt. Gather your weapons.”
All around him, Saurians crawled from their sleep pouches. They gathered weapons and donned armor quickly and efficiently, leaving Sissus little time to plan. He had no way to communicate directly with the humans. He could get word to his clutch, but it would take them time to alert the Whalorian.
By then it would be too late.
Sissus stalked from the room, heading back to the cargo bay. His pouchmates followed, gathering well away from the Ganog trickling into the room. There were a dozen in all, each one of the finest of the elites. They carried an assortment of weapons. Most had standard rifles, though there were also a variety of melee weapons. Unlike Saurians, the Ganog elite enjoyed close-quarters fighting.
Of course, if Sissus could shape his body into a giant at will he might be more willing to claw and punch at his enemies. His people took care in combat, harrying their foes from a distance.
“Prepare yourselves for battle,” Krekon bellowed, striding imperiously into the room. His armor gleamed, and he carried the legendary double-bladed axe, Vkash’s Vengeance. The weapon had felled an emperor, and had a history stretching to the beginning of the Imperium.
Krekon walked to the other elites, who chanted their salutes at his approach. The floor in the center of the room warped out of existence, revealing the ruined city below. A fierce storm raged, battering the buildings with a wall of rust and wind. It was the worst storm Sissus had seen in nearly a cycle, and would make combat brutally short-ranged—just as the Ganog preferred.
The ship descended toward the storm, the Ganog clustered eagerly around the edge of the gap in the floor. They were ready to leap into the fray, the moment a fray presented itself.
“Our target is that building there. Sissus, you will be our eyes. Find them. You may engage their warriors, but leave the leaders for me,” Krekon boomed. He leapt through the floor, falling into the storm. The other elites followed, enveloping by swirling winds.
Sissus had no choice but to follow, diving into the storm himself. He was blasted by the wind, thrown from his feet as he landed. He rolled quickly to his feet, catching a pouchmate as she nearly tumbled to the ground.
When his people were gathered, they circled the building, hunting for an entrance that Sissus already knew existed. He took his time, circling slowly to the western face. If only he could broadcast his presence to the humans. Yet the voice of the storm made that impossible. It shouted past all other noise, drowning anything that might advertise their presence.
“Clutch leader,” one of his mates hissed. “I have located an entrance. I believe it has been used recently.”
Sissus moved slowly toward the ramp leading into the darkness. He knew the humans were down there somewhere, and he knew that there was likely no other way out of the building. If he led his men in there, the humans would be trapped. If he did not, he’d be killed—or worse, his secret ferreted out. Krekon was, after all, a melter.
“Kress, scout the hole, since you discovered it. The rest of you, fan out. Watch the opening from the outside.”
Sissus followed Kress into the tunnel, watching for an opportunity. Kress crept forward, pausing next to a fallen pylon. Sissus removed a pulse grenade, quietly tossing it at Kress’s feet. He stepped behind an intact pylon, just as a bright flash knocked Kress into the air. The explosion echoed down through the structure, impossible for the humans to miss.
Sissus smiled grimly. He withdrew his comm. “Master, one of my pouchmates has been killed by a pulse grenade trap. They are aware of our arrival.”
“Fool,” Krekon’s voice bellowed through the comm. “You’ve revealed our presence. Get your worthless hide out of the way. The elites will tend to this. Do not stray far, Sissus. I will take this failure from your hide when the battle is done. I will pry your secrets from your mind, and if I find the treachery I suspect, I will devour you.”
Sissus froze. Krekon never made idle threats. Somehow, he knew.
33
Interrupted
“So, we have a rough plan. It’s a bad plan, but at least it’s a plan,” Nolan began. They were all watching him now, the combined weight of their gazes underscoring how heavy command
could be. “We need allies, so we reach out to the Saurians. We can have Aluki arrange that as soon as the storm passes. In the meantime, we start drilling in three teams.”
“What are those going to be, Captain?” Edwards boomed. His robotic face winced. “Sorry about the echo. I’ll knock a few decibels off.”
“The mechs are too big to make it inside the mounds, so we go on foot. Sorry, Edwards, you’re going to be sitting out the first part of the assault.”
“Awww, Captain.”
“We’ve got a use for you, Edwards. The whole idea is to evacuate this rock—both our forces, and any allies we can rustle up. Your job is going to be securing the landing zone, so the admiral can swing by and pick us up.”
“Okay.”
Nolan leaned against the wall, pulling his legs up against his chest. Seeing a twenty-five-foot mech pout made him smile. “Hannan, Nuchik, you’re team one. Annie, T’kon, you’re team two. Burke, you’re with me.”
Each person nodded as their name was mentioned.
“Captain, what about me?” Lena asked. She hadn’t spoken since the incident with Nuchik.
“You’re with Hannan. Before we detonate the control room, I want you to learn everything you can. If you can do some sort of data dump, even better. We need to learn as much as possible about these planetstriders.”
“Nolan, if I could make a suggestion—” Burke began.
BOOOM. A rolling wave of sound rushed through the room, echoing endlessly.
Hannan leapt to her feet. “Captain, I recognize that detonation. That was one of their pulse grenades.”
“Prep for contact,” Nolan barked. He sprinted to his mech, leaping up the right leg. He didn’t look to see what the rest of the squad was doing. He didn’t need to. They were professionals, and everyone knew their job. “Kay, get the reactor fired up. Expedited start sequence.”