Strand was taking cover behind a large chunk of bent hull metal when the boy suddenly burst out of the ice near his right flank. The enemy warbot had been hovering in front of him and was momentarily distracted as Hauk flew up beside it.
“Kid, watch your flank,” Strand said, hoping the boy had enough sense to react in time. He no longer had any heavy weapons to damage the warbot with, so he stood up instead, hoping to create a diversion.
Hauk looked sideways in surprise as he flew up beside the hovering warbot. The enemy machine reacted quickly and fired off its remaining high-explosive missile at point-blank range. The small rocket managed a partial ignition before striking a glancing blow on the twisting boy’s battle suit, and the missile’s simple AI instantly detonated its warhead.
The resulting explosion damaged them both. Hauk took most of the shockwave in his armored chest, and he fell back onto the icy floor, landing with a loud thud. The warbot had a much tougher armored torso, and the damage it took to its internal systems was negligible. Keeping itself steady in the air, it hovered above the twitching boy while powering up its lasers for a coup de grace.
Strand zeroed in towards the enemy machine and opened fire with everything he had. The multiple barrages of laser fire and kinetic ordinance moderately damaged the warbot and was able to stagger it in the air, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down. Strand got back behind cover as the robot turned in his direction once more.
As the warbot began firing its weapons at the still-active enemy contact, it was distracted enough not to notice the shuttlecraft bearing down on it.
“Suck on this,” Fytti said as she pivoted the vessel above the robot and readjusted one of the tilt fusion thrusters while increasing its plasma exhaust.
The hovering robot turned to face the flying ship, just as the superheated plasma washed over it. Its exposed sensor systems quickly broiled and malfunctioned, rendering it blind. The shuttlecraft charged through, laying a glancing blow to its side which sent the warbot spinning into the ground below.
Fytti could see the nearby walls cracking as the ice wyrm made its way towards them. She stabbed the com-link button. “Come on!”
Hauk was lying on the ground in a concussed daze. Strand landed beside him, grabbed the boy’s left arm, and made a running leap up towards the hovering shuttle’s fuselage. The ice wyrm smashed through the wall of frozen water just a few meters from them and tried to lunge for the ship, but Fytti was able to evade its huge maw with a few meters to spare.
Strand tried to grab onto the handholds along the vessel’s fuselage but missed when it made a sharp turn. Reaching out with his left arm as he started falling backwards in the air, Strand fired off a harpoon cable, its tip embedding itself in the vehicle’s hull. With his other hand holding on to the boy, he hoped it would be enough.
The missiles launched from the Tiburon had adjusted their gravity drop using grid fins since they had already exhausted their fuel to enter Pirindra’s atmosphere. The two dozen missiles were equipped with multiple warheads, their nosecones quickly separating, and close to fifty fission bombs detonated at the same time.
Large portions of the crevasse instantly caved in, with much of the once solid ice melting into pools of radioactive sludge. The entire area experienced a cascading effect as the once exposed rift on the planet’s surface transformed itself into a glowing scar over the next several hours.
When Hauk opened his eyes again, he was lying inside the shuttlecraft’s cargo hold, Strand sitting beside him. The boy could hear the howling of the wind through the multiple breaches along the vessel’s fuselage as they flew close to the ground.
The boy sat up groggily. “What happened?”
“We got away, that’s what counts,” Strand said. “Now we link up with the Clint V and get outta here.”
“But we failed, LT.”
“I’m not so sure,” Strand said. “I’m beginning to wonder if the shard was even in that wreck to begin with.”
30 The Committee
Kurgan’s polar regions were in a perpetual sunset due to the planet’s tidally locked orbit. With half the parent star’s glowing disk never setting below the horizon, time seemed to stand still for the inhabitants living and working in the scattered mining settlements of the area, and they relied on artificial timekeeping to compensate.
Nubnar Palacios had grown up in these lands. The son of a moderately wealthy mine owner, he spurned the family business and became embroiled in politics during his youth. The treatment of the lower castes disgusted him, and he joined a number of parties advocating for better conditions. Running afoul of the law during a demonstration which turned violent, he was imprisoned for a number of years.
After he was disowned by his family, Nubnar’s views became more militant, and he eventually went underground upon his release from custody. In time, his charisma enabled him to climb the leadership ranks of the rebel cause, and he soon became a spokesperson for the entire movement. Over the decades, the insurrection began to spread throughout the entire Scythian cluster, and the rebels consolidated their leadership into a central committee, with him at its head.
The ground car he was traveling in had tracked treads to traverse the rocky, uneven ground. From the outside, the vehicle looked like any other mining transport bringing its cargo of ore and crystals from the mines over to the factory stations.
Ever since the archon had placed a price on his head, Nubnar felt it best to travel incognito. A healthy dose of paranoia kept him safe and free, though he always felt more comfortable when traveling through this area, for he was amongst his own people out here.
Piotr had served as Nubnar’s aide for many years, and he sat opposite his superior inside the transport’s hidden compartment. The lanky, middle-aged man shook his head. “I think it would have been better if we set up this meeting on one of the other worlds or moons in the cluster. The archon’s fleet is orbiting above us right now.”
“Calm yourself,” Nubnar said. “I grew up in these very locales we’re traveling in, and I’ve never felt safer.”
“But the whole committee is convening here,” Piotr said. “With the greatest concentration of the archon’s forces on planet as well, they could decapitate our entire movement with one stroke if they find us.”
“The core of the rebellion started out in this region. Our powerbase is here, and we shall be safe amongst our most fervent supporters.”
Piotr shook his head slowly. “I just don’t like it, sir. These risks we’re taking.”
Nubnar looked out of the hidden side window. “We have to convene, for this is an eventful time. The archon is close to officially naming that pirate to become his successor.”
“House Dragos has given us permission to convene in their territory; it would have been safer over there.”
“No. The committee has never met in Dragos space because it would send the wrong message,” Nubnar said. “I myself have never set foot outside of the Scythian cluster, for we must always show the people that our movement is a local one.”
“But everyone knows we’re being supported by the Dragos anyway.”
Nubnar wagged his finger. “The Dragos may help us with weapons and money, yet they do not influence us. The committee decides on matters, not them.”
“Very well, sir,” Piotr said. “Do you think the committee will agree to your new proposal?”
“I don’t know,” Nubnar said. “I’m not sure if this Vega will accept the pleas we sent to him. I do remain hopeful though.”
“Essala will not like it for sure,” Piotr said. “She will vote to fight on regardless.”
“I have more influence over the committee than she does,” Nubnar said wistfully. “The senior members know we cannot keep fighting forever, and an amicable settlement is the only way forward in this.”
“It seems we’re pinning our hopes on this pirate not being like his predecessor.”
“If this Vega is like his own kind, then there is a chance he woul
d rather make a deal with us than see more fighting when he becomes ruler.”
The hidden door beside them slid open, and their chief bodyguard poked his head inside. Jelik had a prominent scar that ran down past his forehead and ended at the hole where his nose used to be. “We’re approaching the mine, sir.”
“Thank you, Jelik,” Nubnar said. “Let’s get this meeting over with.”
Once the transport had stopped near the cavern entrance, Jelik silently gestured at his four colleagues to sprint out of the vehicle’s hidden compartments. The other bodyguards did as ordered, and they quickly checked to see if there was anything suspicious in the area. Only after they signaled the all clear did Jelik bring out Nubnar and his aide.
Nubnar made a fast walk into the mine entrance, his chief bodyguard leading the way. Each member of the committee had been instructed to enter from separate entrances from a number of klicks away, and the entire group would meet inside a subterranean nexus deep within the bowels of the world. The locale had been abandoned since the mine was exhausted, yet none of the tunnels were filled in, despite having been officially reported as such. Little by little, the rebels had steadily appropriated these old, unused mines to serve as safe havens.
Since there were enough glow crystals within the mineshafts for their night vision, the group didn’t bother to use their flashlights as they continued their descent. Although the tunnel supports were old, these mines were known for their stability, and collapses were rare.
Biting his lip, Nubnar suppressed the urge to turn back as the tunnel in front of him narrowed until they all had to keep low. He had never told the others about his claustrophobia, for he feared they would depose him, or even use his weakness to pressure him into making rash decisions. Ignoring the rising panic, he kept his mind focused on what they had to discuss.
He had gotten so close to a peace agreement a number of times in the past, only for the committee to stifle the near breakthroughs in the negotiations with the ruling government. The death of the archon’s son also put a damper on things for many years, but Nubnar was hopeful the past would be water under the bridge. He was well into old age, and he wondered if he could find a successor in case the talks broke down again.
Piotr fell in behind him since they could no longer walk two abreast. “I’m sure the committee will be pleasantly surprised at the latest secret backchannel talks we’ve had with the archon’s representatives.”
Nubnar nodded. Despite the terror of the cramped passageway, his hopes for a final peace held back the fear. “Yes, I was surprised the once stubborn lord chamberlain himself signed the letter. How many days did you spend attempting to authenticate it, Piotr?”
“Ten days, sir. For them to approach us like this is unprecedented. Perhaps this is what we’ve all been waiting for.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too much,” Nubnar said. “We’ll still need to take a vote, and I’ll demand a clear majority this time so there’ll be no more reneging.”
“I know what Essala will say.”
“So do I,” Nubnar said softly. “She’s a fanatic, and there’ll be no compromise with her.”
“I’m afraid for us,” Piotr said. “Even if she gets outvoted, Essala might decide to split the committee and the movement as a whole.”
“We need to make sure that doesn’t happen. We…”
Their conversation was interrupted when Jelik and two of his lead bodyguards walking ahead of them abruptly stopped, right at the mouth of a widening underground corridor.
Nubnar narrowed his eyes while edging closer to his chief bodyguard. “What is it?”
Jelik and his two assistants were standing over what seemed to be an object lying on the ground. Their weapons were drawn, but they refrained from turning on their flashlights.
The fear he once suppressed now became prominent, and Nubnar began shaking. I need to get out of here. Now.
Jelik gestured at the man to his right to scout on ahead. The lead bodyguard carefully stepped around the object and continued to a juncture before peering forward. After a few tense moments, he turned to give the all-clear signal. Jelik pulled out his flashlight and activated it. When the illuminative beam shone over the object, everyone gasped.
It was the body of a man. The eyes of the corpse were wide open, but no blood had pooled around him. Jelik carefully kept the flashlight pointed down as he examined it further. The flechette ends sticking from the back made it evident the dead man had been shot while fleeing. The rapid coagulation of blood meant the needler used against him was poisoned.
Turning the flashlight off, Jelik immediately gestured at the rear bodyguard to turn around and head straight back out. Piotr didn’t need to be prodded as he pivoted and began to hurry down the tunnel they had just come from.
Jelik gave a gentle push to Nubnar’s shoulders, guiding the still-stunned rebel leader to retreat as quickly as possible. Just as the bodyguard in front of Piotr turned back to guide him, a slight whistling noise filled everyone’s ears, and the man groaned and fell to his knees, dropping the weapon he carried.
Piotr shrieked and tried to turn around again. He collided with Nubnar, and both men fell to the ground. Jelik grimaced while aiming his needler rifle above the two men and started firing at the shadowy figures now visible behind them. It was clear they had been ambushed.
The high-pitched squeals of the needler rifles stung everyone’s ears due to the confined space. Jelik valiantly got in between them as he kept on firing. Despite his fear of being shot, Piotr’s loyalty to his leader proved superior as the aide pulled Nubnar back to his feet and guided him back towards the widening juncture.
Nubnar let out a hoarse moan as he saw Jelik drop to the ground, just as he was pushed into an adjoining tunnel. Piotr cried out while falling sideways and clutching his leg. Nubnar turned and tried to help his aide up, only to be pushed violently away.
Piotr gasped as he waved with one hand to leave him be. “You must get out of here, sir!”
Nubnar turned and ran down a quiet passageway, his mind befuddled with the sudden loss of his most trusted people and the desire to escape. His chest heaved, and the pain of his exertions made it hard to breathe. The adrenaline rush pushed him onwards, and all he could think about was to keep going, keep running, until the screaming and sounds of the needlers died away.
The sensation of being hunted in the dark like prey gnawed at him, and he would run into one tunnel after another whenever there was an intersecting shaft up ahead. The direction no longer mattered; in some instances, he felt himself descending ever deeper, while at other times he sensed an upward draft in front of him.
He kept on going until his legs became leaden and the weight on his chest became too painful, and then he had to slow down until he was only taking a half-step at a time. The rush of fear had now been replaced by a numbing exhaustion, and all his body wanted was to lie down and rest.
A dim light up ahead imbued him with a sense of hope and curiosity. With the sounds of battle having been left behind, the lighted tunnel seemed almost like a welcoming sanctuary, beckoning him forward. Nubnar slowly made his way forth, until he entered a well-lit chamber.
The moment he stepped into the cavern, Nubnar realized he had somehow made it into the committee’s designated meeting place. A long table with chairs had been placed in the center of the room. Floating glow spheres provided sufficient lighting to read documents, and there was even a table set up with refreshments at the far end of the room. The whole place was mostly deserted except for a lone, gray-haired woman seated in one of the designated chairs.
Nubnar stumbled forward as his mind quickly recognized her. “Essala, help me! We’ve been ambushed in the tunnels.”
Essala was tall yet remained lithe, even in her old age. She was the movement’s military leader, greatly feared by both her own people and the archon’s security forces. With tactics ranging from suicide bombings to assassinations, her methods were ruthless and efficient. Nubnar disliked
her role, yet he had plenty of respect for her abilities.
Turning to face him with cool detachment, Essala’s face remained impassive. “Welcome, Nubnar.”
Despite the cool air, Nubnar’s clothing was drenched with sweat, and his mind began to climb out of the primordial instinct to just run away. Her demeanor made him suspicious. “I just told you about my people being ambushed in the tunnels on the way here, yet you seem unfazed by it all.”
Essala stood up and drew out a needler pistol from her hip holster. “Yes, I know.”
Nubnar breathed in slowly, catching his breath as she aimed the weapon towards him. It was now obvious the ambushers were her people. “Why?”
Essala began walking towards him. “You and I are the only ones left alive in the committee.”
“I asked you why.”
“I knew about your backchannel talks with the archon,” Essala said. “Hrothgar Maladore wants to make peace with our movement so he can focus his attention towards the pirate.”
“But this is what we want, Essala! We can finally end decades of fighting.”
“No,” she said. “I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better we wipe out the archon and his entire family. I knew the committee would never agree to it since you’d finally have the votes to sway them, so I did what I had to do.”
“You wiped out our own leadership, and for what? Even if you somehow succeed, the Dragos will surely take over once the archon and his family are dead. We’ll be back where we started.”
Essala shook her head. “The Dragos assured me they’ll appoint someone from the local population to be their representative here.”
“I see now,” Nubnar said. “You made a deal with House Dragos, didn’t you?”
Essala stayed silent.
Nubnar’s fear had gone away. Now he seethed with contempt. “The Dragos promised you a prominent position, didn’t they? How do you even know they’ll keep their word?”
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