Apex

Home > Science > Apex > Page 32
Apex Page 32

by Aer-ki Jyr


  Jalek ran through friendly territory on the jumpship with two escorts in tow, for they really had no choice but to run, otherwise they’d never get anywhere in time on the monstrous ship. They passed small teams returning wounded to temporary medical stations, backtracking their route as the troops continued to fight their way further into the interior, compressing the remaining Nevari into a smaller and smaller area by simultaneously attacking them on multiple flanks.

  As they ran, Jalek received numerous reports on their progress, some telepathic, some coming over the comms. Progress was slow, but consistent. The Nevari were cornered and they knew it, but they weren’t surrendering and digging in for a long campaign, knowing that the Cres intended on recapturing the jumpship rather than destroying it.

  Jalek hit the light backguard line of troops and got quick directions to where the Human was fighting. The three golden-­clad Cres moved forward through the lines, indistinguishable in view from the others but telepathically unique in presence. The troops made way for them to pass and Jalek’s trio soon left the confines of the corridors and entered into one of the massive open air parks, meeting up with a staging area guard detail that was holding several dozen Nevari captive, most of whom were injured to some degree.

  After a short detour cattycorner across the park, they entered the city streets and heard the first bits of distant weaponsfire. Jalek gripped his lachar pistol tighter and moved over towards the right as they advanced through the curvy streets to give himself a bit of cover.

  Several minutes later they came into the fray. The Nevari had barricaded themselves inside a section of buildings with numerous portable barriers deployed throughout the surrounding streets. He could sense hundreds of enemy troops but only saw a few out in the open. Several long-­range sniper blasts zipped out from nooks and crannies targeting his troops as they hunkered down behind the first few rows of barricades that they’d managed to capture and were now using for themselves.

  Jalek stepped over several Nevari bodies and noticed others scattered around the area. He took cover along with his escorts next to a pair of Cres wielding the enemy’s sniper rifles.

  “Report.”

  “The Human is cleaning out one of the side buildings,” the sniper said as he sighted through the tiny scope. “We’re to keep the others bottled up and protect his flank. They’ve got snipers up high and flankers along the side streets. We’ve been ambushed from behind several times and think there’s a series of maintenance tunnels throughout the structures that don’t appear on the map, so stay sharp.”

  Jalek nodded, sweeping the immediate area for additional minds as one of the Cres snipers fired a single shot, hitting a red-­armored cap that had drifted too high over a barricade. As if in response, a flurry of red lachar blasts angled down from multiple levels on the central building block, targeting a position out of sight to the left of the street on the surrounding ‘square.’

  A telepathic order echoed through all the present Cres minds and as one they opened up suppression fire on the buildings, which immediately reduced the incoming fire as the Nevari dove for cover. In that brief moment of hesitation a tiny white orb impacted the street barricades at the buildings’ main entrance and blew them apart, revealing a dozen or so troops crouched behind.

  Jalek watched as his troops mowed them down from afar with a slew of assault rifle shots, too numerous to have missed such obvious targets. “Where did that plasma blast come from?”

  “The Human,” one of the snipers said.

  “What kind of weapons is he outfitted with?”

  “He didn’t take any,” the other sniper answered. “He’s using his powers.”

  “Well that plasma blast came from some type of weapon,” Jalek insisted. “Is it something the Nevari brought?”

  “No, it came from the Human. I saw him do it earlier. He’s retracted the armor on his hands and releasing the plasma from his palm.”

  Jalek stared at him, annoyed. “Plasma would burn right through a person’s hand. You’re talking like raw cadets.”

  “I don’t know how he’s doing it, Prefect, but he is. Look for yourself.”

  Jalek glanced back down at the entrance which was now strewn with bodies as one of his troops ran across the open area in a blur, drawing more fire from above. One shot hit his shields, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure at this distance. The golden-­armored warrior disappeared inside the entrance, with internal flashes of lachar fire visible in the darkened interior.

  “That’s the Human?” Jalek asked, seeing his pale hands.

  “He’s wearing our armor,” the closest sniper said as he received additional telepathic orders. Further up the street assault rifle blasts broke out and covered the face of the buildings. Both snipers leapt up and advanced to the next row of barricades. Jalek and his escorts stayed put.

  “No Cres can move that fast,” the guard on his right commented.

  Jalek nodded his agreement. “I’m not convinced it’s actually a Human, but whatever it is it’s tearing into the Nevari lines,” he said, sensing mental dots of Nevari troops inside the building winking out.

  Several Cres ahead of them emerged from cover and began running forward.

  “They’re going in,” the other guard offered.

  “I want a closer look,” Jalek said, sprinting ahead to the next available cover. The snipers had already moved up two more and were taking shots at the third story balconies when the Prefect received a mental summons from his right and spotted an open doorway. He ran over to it and ducked inside with his escorts following a step behind, finding himself in an impromptu command post/medical area. He walked over and knelt down next to a commando with a hole in her armored leg, plugged now with a filler gel.

  “Sniper shot,” she told him. “Whatever they’re packing isn’t standard issue. Went clear through with one shot after my shields were down.”

  Jalek adjusted his line of sight and noticed an exit hole in the opposite side of her leg armor, just above a pool of purple/black blood on the floor. He put a hand on her armored shoulder and looked into her pain-­ridden eyes, having a silent conversation with her, then stood up and walked through the other wounded, along with two corpses that had been dragged inside.

  He studied his troops’ wounds. Almost all of them had suffered from high-­powered sniper shots. A technology that the Nevari had never fielded before.

  An all-­clear telepathic signal washed through every mind in the immediate area and one of the badly wounded commandos mouthed the word ‘Darmek’ in response. Another repeated the word louder, then another, and another until a subtle victory chant resonated throughout the eight wounded troops.

  Jalek cautiously walked outside and saw that his infantry had abandoned their cover and advanced on the buildings. He ran through the street and met up with them under the overhang that covered the main entrance. A posted sentry nodded his respect to the Prefect as he walked past.

  Now that he was close, Jalek could sense a powerful non-­Cres mind in the building, but it was hazy, almost a specter rather than a strong signal. That feeling didn’t abate even when he finally encountered the mysterious individual two levels up as he was coming back down.

  “Prefect,” Riax said, picking up on his telepathic identifier. “What’s the status of the space battle?”

  Jalek stared into his own reflection in the man’s golden faceplate. “Who are you?”

  Riax retracted his helmet and repeated his question, this time with his mental presence being unmasked. “Status?”

  Jalek froze for a moment. He’d never seen or felt a Human before, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind that this truly was one. His mind was . . . beyond reckoning.

  He blinked twice, then seemed to get hold of himself. “The enemy has been routed. We’re cleaning up the stragglers.”

  “Here too,” Riax echoed. “There
are two more major areas of resistance. Once I’ve eliminated them have your troops sweep the ship for remaining Nevari and any hidden survivors. They killed all they could find, but we’ve come across a few that successfully hid out.”

  Riax walked on past the Prefect and jogged down the nearest set of stairs with Ella right behind him and another six troops following in tight formation as if he were in charge. Technically that was true if he was a Human, but after such a long absence it felt odd to Jalek. He let them go without a word, trying to rectify in his mind how this could be real and knowing better than to stand in his way, but all of a sudden the chain of command had just become . . . complicated.

  Humans had originally been their default commanders, given that they had trained the Cres and used them in many low level engagements when Human troops were unavailable, or when the task was so small not to warrant their presence in numbers. The Humans had always trumped any existing command infrastructure the moment they arrived, but the Cres had operated so long without them that that rule, while still maintained in the codex out of loyalty, was effectively null and void in the present.

  Nonetheless it was there, and now served a purpose. Unless this was a gigantic ruse this Human had command and that was that, regardless of any misgivings Jalek might have.

  “You heard the order,” he finally told his escorts. “Police these bodies and begin organizing search teams.”

  Chapter 37

  AFTER THE REMAINING pockets of resistance were eliminated Riax and Ella were escorted to the docking level and boarded a troop shuttle that took them off the Yiori jumpship, which gave them their first look at the remains of the space battle.

  Chunks of tan/green Nevari ships floated about, corralled into large globs by small Cres corvettes with their mooring beams while frigates swept the immediate area collecting smaller debris so as not to create a navigational hazard within the system. With their mooring beams spread wide like fins the small ships scurried about while the larger ones floated nearby in guard formation.

  All the Cres capital ships had bluish/green curves and appeared organic in design, with no obvious compartments or components. The smooth hulls concealed their weapons batteries, plasma engines, and docking bays beneath hidden doors on the ships, and while stationary appeared as if they were large clouds or marine creatures floating about harmlessly in space.

  One of the larger warships in the formation opened its port bay door, breaking the smooth lines with a glowing square lit by interior lights. The pilot of the troop shuttle angled toward the waiting cruiser and carefully slid the double-­hulled ship inside the bay, setting down and opening the forward loading ramp for the passengers to disembark without delay.

  Riax followed four other Cres out with Ella and several others in his wake as the captain of the warship and his senior staff walked forward to greet them.

  “Darmek,” the Captain offered with a short bow. “You honor us with your presence.”

  “Thank you,” Riax said, glancing at the trim, dull white uniforms they were wearing. “I see your ship is of the Vertisan line.”

  The Captain nodded. “All of our frontline warships are,” he said with pride.

  “Vertisan is outdated,” Riax pointed out, quelling the sentiment. “Why are you not fielding your more advanced designs?”

  “Apologies, Darmek, but these are the best we can produce. We have retained the blueprints for the Garrnt, Apoca, and Erantric lines but our scientists have not been able to create the necessary compounds required for them.”

  Riax raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  One of the staffers took a half step forward when the Captain didn’t have an answer. “There is an element spoken of that we can’t identify in the Erantric line,” he said, sending a mental picture of the symbol.

  “Djor,” Riax said, easily recognizing the Cres symbol. “It is comprised of four protons, four neutrons, two corovon, and a leron. I suspect that you have no leron production?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” the Captain answered, exchanging glances with the staffer. “I do not even know what a leron is.”

  “It is a rare subatomic particle. In Djor it is bound with others in a matrix that is unusually stable while having the capacity to bond with other elements in atypical ways thanks to the leron. We created the element and supplied it to the Cres for the creation of your Erantric line. What are you lacking for the others?”

  Ella gently touched his elbow, speaking aloud so the others could hear as well. “We have very few corovon mines. Most of our supply is acquired through trade.”

  “I see,” Riax said regretfully, mentally ticking off all the necessary compounds that required the rare element. Vertisan line ships would have required two compounds containing corovon, not counting fuel, while the next tier Garrnt line required nine. “Captain, I need immediate transport to Illora. I assume you arrived by way of jumpship?”

  “Yes, we brought two.”

  “Set course for one of your choosing, as well, designate as many escort ships as you deem necessary without shortchanging the fleet’s operations here.”

  “I’ll confer with Sa-­Prefect Daret and have arrangements made within the hour,” the Captain said confidently. “Is there anything that you require in the interim? A change of clothing perhaps? We have already set aside quarters for your use.”

  “Clothing, yes . . . and food,” Riax said, with Ella smirking behind him even though she knew better than anyone else how much energy he had expended during the battle. “For her too,” he added, gesturing back at Ella.

  The Captain turned and looked at his second in command. “See to it, Depra. Darmek,” he said, excusing himself with a respectful nod before heading off to the bridge.

  “This way,” the Depra gestured, leading Riax and Ella over to a dark green oval doorway that led to the ship’s interior.

  RIAX TOOK A long dunk in the cleansing tube . . . the Cres version of a shower. It was a clear, vertical cylinder imbedded in the floor and filled with water and various chemicals. When he stripped off his armor and clothes and slipped inside, the waters began to churn about in a therapeutic massage that doubled as a means of abrasive cleaning.

  With his head fully submersed Riax felt small jets of warm water digging into his skin like a laser scalpel, tickling in spots and depositing additional oxygen into the water making it easier for him to breathe. He stayed inside for a good twenty minutes before draining the cylinder and having the panel beneath his feet raise him up to floor level.

  A ring descended from the ceiling on two expanding rods and lowered around his body, emitting an energy field that pulled the excess fluid off his skin. It reached all the way down to the floor, then made a second sweep as it rose back into the ceiling, making Riax’s now bone dry hair tingle a bit with static electricity.

  The Cres had provided him with a variety of uniforms, all of which doubled as wetsuits. He chose a light blue one and pulled on the single piece garment, which included flexible foot pads attached at the bottom with an optional release. He disconnected the shoe pieces and wiggled the pants into position. It was a snug, but sufficiently limber fit. He added the shoes but left them unattached as he walked over to a reflective wall panel.

  “Not really your color,” Ella commented from the next compartment as she stepped into the archway connection.

  Riax glanced over at her dark blue variant, a ­couple shades off from her skin tone. “It’ll do.”

  “The Captain has made arrangements. We’ll be docking with the jumpship soon and from there it’ll take a direct route to the homeworld. Six jumps with no stops.”

  “And?” Riax asked, sensing something else was on her mind.

  “Is this where we part ways?” she asked tentatively. “You told the Captain to give me quarters as well, but technically my mission to return you to us is complete. I was wondering what you had planned for
me, or am I assuming too much?”

  Riax leaned against a soft wall, with his shoulder sinking in a centimeter. “Your call.”

  “Meaning what?” she pressed.

  “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

  “Well,” she said, beginning to slowly pace around the circumference of the room, not sure what he wanted or expected her to say, “I was assigned to the Human archaeological reclamation project, but now that’s a moot point, so I guess I’m currently unassigned.”

  “Good,” he said lightly, “because you’re sticking with me. My attaché so to speak.”

  “Are you making that official?”

  “Just did,” he said, breaking into a smile when he sensed that she was pleased with the appointment. “I trust you, and right now you’re my one and only friend.”

  Ella raised an orange eyebrow. “What about Jalia?”

  “Here,” Riax amended.

  “So we’re . . . close now?” Ella asked, only half teasing.

  “When you kick a Human’s ass, it’s a bonding experience.”

  Ella laughed loudly. “You are not what I expected when we found you in that pod.”

  “Oh?”

  “I thought you’d be powerful, wise, stoic, and elegant.”

  Riax considered that. “And now?”

  “Replace stoic with sarcastic and elegant with . . . attractive. I can see what draws Jalia to you, but unlike her I know that such feelings are impotent, though if you will take it as a compliment only, I will admit that I share some of them.”

  Riax bowed slightly. “Compliment taken.”

  “Though you don’t really understand what either of us is referring to?”

  “I think I do,” he said, probing her thoughts. “But then again that probably means I don’t.”

  “You mean a lot to Jalia. A lot more than to me, and I mean no disrespect there. Her feelings are young and undisciplined, which makes them all the stronger. She thinks there could be some form of relationship with you. I know better, but . . .”

 

‹ Prev