by Chris Fox
39
Haak
Inwardly Zakanna had lost the battle to despair, but she maintained a small defiance. She would not let her emotions touch her fur, would not show her clan that a part of her had already admitted defeat. Yulo’s presence made that easier, for she knew he’d disapprove of the lapse.
She turned to Khar. “Tell me of these Void Wraith. How will they fight? What are their weaknesses?”
“They will utilize cloaking, the same technology the Coalition uses. We took that from the Void Wraith. They utilize two types of line units: Judicators and Alphas. The Alphas stand about four meters tall, but are otherwise identical to the smaller ones. When the Void Wraith are killed, their bodies will detonate a few moments later.”
“Are they machines?” Zakanna asked, trying to understand how her enemy might think.
“No, they are the nervous system of a sentient being placed in a cybernetic body. They are capable of independent thought, though they will follow any order their master gives them without question.”
“Thank you, Khar.” Zakanna inclined her head at the Tigris. She hopped back atop the dais, raising her arms to get everyone’s attention.
“Warriors of the Nyar, warriors of the Yog, prepare to carry our defiance to these Void Wraith. Deal with the larger ones, these Alphas. Adepts, kill the smaller. They will detonate upon destruction, so use their fallen as weapons against their brethren,” she ordered in a high, clear voice. She stood tall, staring boldly at her followers.
A sleek, blue vessel rose into view over the island, its wingtips beginning to crackle with white energy.
“We only have a few moments. Scatter, quickly. Away from the dais,” Khar bellowed, sprinting away himself.
The empress followed, with Yulo sprinting past both of them.
Several of the warriors, including a pair from the Nyar delegation, were too slow to dodge. The Harvester fired, and the plasma ball shot into the dais. Warriors and dais were disintegrated, and a smoking crater was all that remained.
The survivors moved instantly, warriors beginning their breathing while smaller adepts fanned out between them. Yulo and Khar stayed close to Zakanna, both next to a cluster of pillars they could use as cover. She moved to the edge of a pillar to stand next to Khar, lowering her voice. “Will you fight for us?”
“No,” Khar said.
He held her gaze in a way no Ganog would have dared. She enjoyed his brusque, casual defiance. So unlike the sycophants or mentors she’d grown up knowing.
“But I will kill Void Wraith, and I will attempt to keep them from killing you. Their appearance here makes something very clear, Zakanna. Your enemy is our enemy. If you survive this, you may end up being an ally. If you do not, my enemy grows stronger and he will hurl that strength at my allies. I have an interest in preserving your life.”
“You cannot stop them from wiping us out, but die knowing that my death will embolden the people,” she said. Her fur tingled, shifting to a clear, pristine white. She straightened, meeting Khar’s gaze, tuning out everything else around her. “If I die fighting, the people will know. They will rise up, and oppose the seekers. Oppose the Nameless Ones. But they must see us struggle, see us give our lives as we ask them to do.”
“I am proud of you, Zakanna,” Yulo called from another pillar. His fur was snowy white, mirroring her own. “I have watched you grow, watching you learn, err, and succeed. Yet not until today have you learned the final lesson.”
“What do you mean?” she glanced down at her fur, not understanding. “I’ve struggled to achieve the white my whole life. I’m no different than I was yesterday, so why now?”
“You have accepted your death,” Khar rumbled. His golden mane rippled in a sudden wind. Engines whined from below. They were getting closer. “In that certainly lies peace.”
“You are familiar with the Haak?” Zakanna asked, blinking.
“I am unsurprised,” Master Yulo said. He laughed, clapping the Tigris on his shoulder. “You could have been born Ganog, Khar of the Tigris. Yes, he is correct, Zakanna. The certainty of death offers a powerful focus.”
“I am familiar with this…Haak. We lack a word for it, but the concept runs deep in my culture.” Khar turned to face the edge of the island, and Zakanna followed his gaze. A second Harvester rose into view, wingtips crackling as it prepared another volley.
This vessel was closer, and gave her a much better view. It resembled a bird of prey, long blue wings curving inward until they almost touched at the tip. The vessel was sleek and deadly. It was wholly unlike Ganog ships, or that of any other race she’d encountered—even this new Coalition.
Yet the vessel awakened a primal fear deep within her, a certainty that hundreds of centuries ago her ancestors had quaked under the shadow of these very ships.
A third vessel rose into view, then a fourth. Azure energy began crackling between their wingtips, each growing into a ball of blinding brilliance.
“Scatter,” Khar roared, tackling Zakanna from behind. He carried her away from the pillar a hairsbreadth before a ball of energy streaked into the area where she’d been standing.
The force of the explosion hurled them across the island, but Zakanna rolled to her feet beside another pillar. Khar staggered to his feet next to her, smoke rising from the rear of his armor. Part of his mane had been burned away, but if he was wounded it didn’t seem to slow him.
“Why aren’t they firing?” she yelled to Khar, though her gaze was fixed on the ships. They’d moved to hover near each other at the opposite edge of the island.
“They’re going to send in Judicators.” Khar pointed toward the Nyar delegation. “That’s the largest concentration of people. The Judicators are fairly predictable. They will advance on that position, and wipe that group out before shifting to other targets.”
The ships descended lower, nearly touching the grass. Blue ramps extended from each, but no troops emerged. Zakanna’s eyes narrowed. She opened her lower nostrils, catching a new scent.
“Pulse grenades!” she roared. Warriors in every cluster reacted as they’d been trained, lobbing pulse grenades onto the ramps. The grenades detonated in a staccato of explosions, and each explosion flung thin-limbed blue bodies into the air. Two seconds later, those bodies began to explode, in many cases catching their own troops.
A hail of blue plasma fire came from the ramps, then from the edges of the island around the ramps. Dozens of shots peppered her forces, drawing cries of pain. A nearby warrior took a plasma blast to the chest, staggering back a step.
“Meb!” Khar roared. The empress turned in time to see Meb crash to the grass, smoke rising from a wound in his chest.
Her forces flung a few more pulse grenades, but the fire didn’t slacken. One by one, they were picking off her people, and any warrior who charged the enemy position was cut down.
She moved behind the pillar, using it as cover. Khar and Yulo moved to neighboring pillars.
She turned to Yulo. “Master, what do we do? I see no way forward.”
“I have no advice, little one. If we flee, it will be into the arms of more of these Void Wraith. If we attack, they will cut us down,” Yulo called. His fur was still white, and she was surprised to find that so was hers.
“Then we will await death,” she called, in a high, clear voice. “When it comes we will stab it in the eye, even as it drags us into the gaze of the Nameless Ones.”
40
Not Amused
Takkar was not amused. He paced back and forth across his dais, alone on his command island excepting the single techsmith.
High above, the battle played out before him. His forces were finishing off the last few of the ineffectual blue ships, venting their collective rage. The real threat—Fizgig and her fleets—were safely hidden behind their cowardly cloaking.
That left the factory floating in high orbit unprotected. If he attacked it, it would force Fizgig to respond. Yet he doubted it would be that simple. She had at
least one more trap, probably several more.
“Move into firing range on that factory,” he ordered. Once again, the only way to deal with the trap was to spring it.
The techsmith’s temple pulsed, and she relayed it to the techsmiths on the other vessels. Moments later, the fleet began drifting toward the factory.
They hadn’t made it far when a massive object decloaked near the factory. It was unlike the other technology the Coalition had thus far used—an orbital defense platform forged from a bronze-colored alloy.
Cannons bristled across the surface, and those cannons launched a massive salvo at the Azi command ship on his left flank. Most of the cannon shots appeared to be some sort of primitive projectile weapon.
Not all of them, though. Half a dozen of the human’s new theta cannons were nestled amidst the others. They sliced through the Azi shields, blasting massive chunks of the hull into space. White clouds of atmosphere puffed through the breaches as the vessel struggled to maintain shields.
“Focus all fire on the platform. Everything we have. All cannons, all fighters,” Takkar roared.
A wave of fighters broke off from the fleet, streaking toward the platform in high orbit. He turned to the techsmith. “Magnify the target.”
The view above zoomed suddenly forward, now fixed on the orbital defense platform. It wasn’t the first Takkar had encountered, though it was certainly the largest. The technology was simple, yet effective. The projectiles from the smaller cannons stabbed into his fleet, detonating fighters. Over and over they fired, with a four-micron gap between each salvo.
“Our dreadnoughts are in range, Clan Leader,” the techsmith murmured.
“Fire.” Takkar folded his arms, smiling grimly.
Bolts of scarlet shot from every dreadnought, burning into the defense platform. Every shot destroyed a cluster of turrets, and when the volley ended, the factory had lost over two-thirds of its armaments. Fire and debris sprayed out around the platform like a sea of shimmering jewels.
The remaining cannons continued to fire at the wave of approaching fighters, still inflicting significant losses.
“Finish them.” Takkar paced back and forth, carefully studying his fleet’s position.
He suspected Fizgig would come for him soon. She preferred wounded prey, and that meant the Azi dreadnought was her most likely target. They’d managed to stabilize their shields, but rather than retreat to the rear, Ro’kan was pressing the assault on the factory.
“Give me that Azi fool. Now!” Takkar roared.
A multi-legged holoprojector rose from beside a pillar and walked toward him. It broadcast a shimmering energy field, coalescing into a view of the Azi bridge.
“Ro’kan, what are you doing?” Takkar demanded.
Ro’kan’s holographic form turned to face Takkar, eyes narrowing. Behind him stood two black-robed figures. One rushed forward to whisper in his ear.
“What you are too cowardly to do, apparently,” Ro’kan taunted. “That station has damaged my flagship. I will exact a toll in blood.”
“And this course was recommended to you by the seekers?” Takkar asked. He didn’t bother ordering the Azi to abandon his course. He knew the fool wouldn’t listen.
“What does it matter, Takkar?” Ro’kan demanded, his tone softening to resignation.
“Die well, Azi.” Takkar gestured at the techsmith, and the hologram winked out. He turned to the Saurian. “How many of my clan guard stand ready?”
The techsmith’s answer was instant. “Seventeen, Clan Leader.”
“Have them warped to the Azi command island. Kill Ro’kan, the seekers, and anyone else who resists. They are to assume direct command. Have the dreadnought pull back to the center of our ranks.”
Takkar’s fury grew as the Azi dreadnought continued to fire on the orbital defense platform. They’d moved to an angle the surviving guns couldn’t reach, and Ro’kan no doubt foolishly assumed that made him safe.
Takkar knew better. Fizgig would pounce soon, and the Azi dreadnought was the most likely target.
“Clan Leader, enemy vessels de-cloaking,” the techsmith said, all in a rush.
Takkar scanned the space around the fleet. The enemy vessels were instantly tagged with red triangles — they were attacking the rear of his fleet with the full might of the enemy. Over two dozen vessels had decloaked and launched a withering barrage at his forces.
They weren’t aiming for the Azi. They weren’t even aiming for a dreadnought. Clusters of enemy ships focused on cruisers and destroyers, easily overcoming the smaller vessels. After their skirmishes with the Void Wraith, many were weakened, easy prey.
“Continue the barrage on the defense platform.” Takkar scowled up at the battle. He could order his fleet to engage, but if he did, Fizgig would melt away. “Have the Yog forces break off to deal with the enemy fleet.”
The Yog dreadnoughts pulled away from the doomed orbital defense platform, aiming their cannons at Fizgig’s fleet. As expected, her vessels broke off immediately. They scattered, easily dodging the Yog cannons.
Takkar turned back to the platform and smiled. Its flaming wreckage rained down over the planet — hunks of metal large enough to destroy cities.
“Clan Leader, the clan guard has reported. They’ve secured the Azi bridge, and have placed one of the Azi in command.” The techsmith bowed, disappearing into her robes.
Takkar glanced upward, watching as the wounded dreadnought retreated into their ranks. Why had the seekers counseled Ro’kan to such reckless action? They cared nothing for glory, and that was the only reason for the risk. It was as if they didn’t care if their Azi allies were eliminated…
He went cold. “Perhaps they don’t care. Perhaps that is exactly what they are seeking.”
41
Great Day
“Just take a quick peek over the hillside, Rex,” Edwards instructed. Rex obligingly poked its reptilian head over the hillside, giving Edwards an excellent vantage of the combat below. If it could be called a proper combat.
Six planetstriders were laying into the factory they were here to ‘protect’. Edwards wasn’t too worried about the fate of some mostly empty buildings, but that didn’t mean he could afford to relax. He’d been ordered to do as much damage as possible. Besides, if he could bag two more striders Juliard might actually come down for a visit.
He raised the cannon arm, poking it over the hill. None of the planetstriders were turned in their direction, so Edwards took his sweet time lining up the shot. He planted it square in the back of another strider with the missile batteries, and was delighted when it went up like a pack of firecrackers.
The thick billowing smoke began to clear, exposing a scaly leg. The planetstrider strode from the smoke, missing an arm. The control unit had been severely damaged, but the creature was still functional.
Edwards shot him again—this time, right in the face. The planetstrider stumbled back into the smoke, then crashed heavily to the earth. The force of its fall extinguished the fire, and the smoke quickly dissipated.
“That’s two. Hope you’re listenin’ up there, Lieutenant.” Edwards nudged Rex. “Get us back behind cover.”
Just in time. The other planetstriders where moving in his direction.
“Looks like you pissed them off, Edwards,” came a familiar voice over the comm. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Burke, that you?” Edwards asked. “Uh, I mean Captain.”
“Yeah, you bet your ass it is. Here’s the deal, Sergeant. You knock ’em down, we keep ’em down. If you see them start swarming Alpha Company’s position, see if you can convince them to back off.”
“Can do, sir. All right, Rex. You heard the man. Charge, buddy.” Rex lumbered up over the hill, right into a flurry of enemy cannon shots. Scarlet beams tore into the mountainside, and Edwards instinctively raised the claw arm to shield Rex’s face.
After a moment he lowered it. “Wait, that was it? You pansies can’t shoot fo
r shit.”
A scarlet beam hit Rex in the chest, knocking him onto his back. He slid down the mountainside, pulverizing millions of tons of rock.
“I stand corrected.”
Rex waggled on his back like a turtle, crushing more rock until he was finally able to flip over.
“Okay, Rex. New plan. Head around to the other side of the mountain. We’ll pop off a couple shots, then retreat back into cover.”
Rex lumbered into motion, obediently circling the mountain. Edwards knew this was a basic tactic, one the enemy would probably anticipate. He couldn’t think of anything better though, so what the hell? It took Rex a full minute to make the trip.
“Slow down a bit, bud. Peek up over that ridge there,” Edwards ordered. He waited patiently as Rex carried them to the vantage he’d selected. “Wow.”
The planetstriders were laying into the city around them, firing wildly. They swatted with robotic claws, trying in vain to smash the cloud of mechs irritating them. The nimble booster mechs easily avoided the ungainly behemoths. Edwards knew exactly how the poor striders felt. He’d hated sparring against Alpha Company, because he could never catch any of them.
Edwards took aim with his cannon, focusing on the closest planetstrider. This time, he aimed for the leg. The cannon began its familiar subsonic whine, then belched a beam of scarlet brilliance. The beam hit the back of the knee, melting bone and flesh. The strider was suddenly legless, and its fall crushed the last few buildings in that sector. The strider struggled to rise from the debris, flailing pitifully.
“Well done, Sergeant,” Burke’s voice came over the comm. “Just keep knocking them down, and we’ll invade the control units.”
“Hey, Juliard, you watching this?” Edwards asked. He didn’t bother to disguise the pride in his voice.
“Yup, great work, Edwards. Looks like I owe you a date.”