Invasion

by L. E. Thomas

  Slapping down credits, Kad limped away from the bar and toward the door.

  Nat watched his father through the mirror. He clenched his jaw, the image of Kad sprinting up the stairs in that downtown basement so long ago burning into his mind once again. Kad had left him.

  But that wasn't Tressa's fault. His sister had been waiting for him in the forest—she had not betrayed him. And people had risked their lives to get her message to him. She believed in him, and that meant more at the moment than any cause or oath.

  “Da,” Nat said, swiveling around on the stool to face his father. He tilted his head back toward the bar stool. "We're not done, yet. Let's talk."

  After Jax had ushered the remaining patrons who struggled to walk out of the bar, he bolted the wide double doors like something used on a train car. Marching with purpose to a corner of the room, he yanked a burlap rug from the floor and pulled back a hatch.

  "Down we go," Kad said, cocking his head toward the floor.

  Nat hesitated, folding his arms over his chest. “What are we doing?”

  Instead of responding like Nat had expected, Kad's scarred face slackened as if deflated. His lips parted, but he said nothing.

  Jax cleared his throat. "Uh, let's get this underway, boss. We don't know if Nat's going to be missed back on the base."

  "Right," Kad said, his shoulders tensing. "You have a curfew?"

  "Not since someone tried to shoot down my shuttle. I'm not departing till my craft is repaired."

  He pushed past Kad and followed Jax down the creaking wooden ladder, dodging pestering cobwebs on the way. It was like descending into a septic tank, and smelled like it, too.

  "You keeping dead bodies down here?" Nat asked.

  Jax snorted. "Spoiled meat behind the ladder." He shrugged. "Keeps off the dogs."

  Nat frowned. "The Empire's using canines now?"

  "Surveillance equipment only does so much," he said. "They've got all kinds of fancy gear, sensors that can peer into buildings and penetrate several marks down into the soil, but we've found certain metals that can still block what they throw at us. A dog's nose, though, that's something else we have to mask our plans."

  He pulled down on a rusted chain and a tube light buzzed to life, illuminating the chamber not much bigger than Nat's quarters back at the Academy. A single rectangular table caked in dust filled most of the room. Three shelves weighted down with metal tools and discarded objects lined the cinder block walls. A pair of stolen Zahlian MC-17s complete with starlight scopes sat in a gun rack on the far wall.

  "Nice place you have here," Nat said.

  "We make do," Jax said with a wide grin as he lumbered to the wall and started digging in the pile of equipment.

  Sliding his fingers through the dust on the table, Nat shuddered and waited, eyeing his father on the far side of the room. He exhaled as he looked at Kad. When they had been separated in the days following the invasion, his father had been in the prime of his life. His hair, now shaved close and speckled with gray, had been black as ink. The once smooth skin had been ravaged by war and the far greater enemy of time. Kad had grown old quickly.

  Nat looked away when Kad glanced in his direction and focused on Jax digging around the equipment.

  "Ah!" Jax cried as if he'd found a buried treasure. "I knew I'd find it. Hid it almost from myself."

  "What is it?"

  He carried a small case over to the table and set it down gently. "Two things that'll help you along the way."

  Nat lowered his gaze. "What is this? Some kind of quest? You going to give me a magic wand next?"

  "Maybe so," Jax said, opening the case and producing a metal card identical to the one Nat had carried from Yesro Vraun to Atheron. "This thing has already been in your possession. If they are watching you—and believe me, they are—they won't notice this since you've already been carrying it."

  "Wait a minute," Nat said, suddenly feeling uneasy, "what do you mean? They're watching me? Why?"

  "They watch everyone, son," Kad said in a grim voice. "There's no freedom with the Zahl."

  "Anyway," Jax cut in as he held up the card. "It's coded to your thumbprint. You hold this out facing your intended target, and it'll hit them with an electric shock strong enough to knock 'em out for a good long while."

  Nat took the card and felt the weight. "I still don't understand how this is going to get me to Tressa. I can't raid a prison with a card. There's going—"

  Jax held up a hand. "I'm getting to that."

  He pulled out another device from the case. It was a square tablet with curved inputs just like—

  Nat gasped. "Where did you get that?"

  Jax smiled and handed over the flight tablet.

  Twirling it around in his hands, Nat couldn't believe he was looking at a Zahlian flight tablet. The inputs were perfect and would fit into the cargo shuttle's deck. Since the beginning of his training, Thumux had bombarded him with its importance. All codes, from transponders, to communications, to landing authorizations, were stored in it. The codes were regularly changed for security, too, making a counterfeit tablet nearly impossible to create.

  "How?" was all Nat could mutter as he stared at the perfect replication of the tablet.

  Jax opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. "Best I keep some secrets to myself. Your old man still thinks I'm a miracle worker."

  For the first time since Nat had seen him again, Kad laughed.

  "You mean you're not?" He shook his head. "What about the security at Camp Abel?"

  Jax belted a hearty laugh.

  Nat didn't have any idea what they were talking about, and he wasn't amused. After all, he was the one who would be flying the unauthorized flight to the Atheron prison to try and save his sister.

  "So, this tablet reads like one of ours?"

  Jax's face darkened. "You mean, 'one of theirs.'"

  He swallowed. "Of course."

  The broad man placed his hands on his hips and stared down his nose at Nat. "Yes. It's been uploaded with all the current codes and has a new flight plan taking you from the base to the prison. Space traffic control won't look twice at you. Even with that shot on your shuttle, the Zahl have become complacent and rely too much on their sensors while ignoring their brains. They think the attack on your vessel was just a couple of local wackos and not the resistance." He pointed at the tablet. "This thing will do the job fine."

  Nat placed the tablet on the table. "This is all well and good, but how the hell am I supposed to carry out a prison break?"

  Jax smiled. "You worry about flying in and out. We'll do the rest. Trust me."

  He wanted to tell them the Zahl could not be defeated, and their entire resistance was absurd. Joining with the Empire was the only way their people would survive.

  But he could tell by their faces they wouldn't understand, probably wouldn't listen to him and then he would be forced to live with the fact he’d left Tressa in prison when he could have saved her. She was more important than an oath to the Zahl, more important than his life.

  "You up for this, son?"

  Nat looked at Kad and held his gaze. Reaching out, he clasped his father’s hand in a tight grip and nodded once. ”I better get back."

  He placed the tablet and the card in his coveralls. Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder.

  "I can't thank you enough for doing this," Kad called after him. "You're making a real difference in this fight."

  "I'm not doing it for your fight,” he said without turning as he climbed the ladder. "I'm doing it for her."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He was losing his mind.

  It was all Nat could think as he strolled back through the dome toward the base after speaking with Kad about how they planned on getting Tressa out of prison. Nat was supposed to use this metal card, a stun weapon activated by his thumbprint—identical to the one he'd carried into the bar in the first place—and knock out Captain Thumux. Plugging in a counterfeit flight tablet
into his control board, the shuttle would be authorized to land on the prison pad and be disguised as a routine supply sortie. If the tablet worked the way Jax said it would, all Imperial sensors would read the shuttle as just another flight.

  Once he arrived at the prison, Kad said they had people inside who planned a diversion. If all went well, Nat just had to fly Tressa out of here so she could reveal the rest of her plan to liberate the people of Tarrafa.

  Simple.

  Yeah, right. He was going crazy.

  Nat got back to the base without incident, passing through the guards with the metal card and counterfeit flight tablet stuffed into his fatigues. Both felt heavy as the guard checked his identification, but it was the same soldier who had let him leave earlier so the ID was barely viewed and Nat was waved through.

  By the time he got back to his temporary officer's quarters, the sun blazed through the windows. When sleep didn't immediately come, he checked his actual flight tablet for an update. The shuttle repair would be ready for departure on time.

  Putting the tablet away, he sighed and stretched his legs on the uncomfortable cot. He stared at the ceiling.

  His flight was tomorrow, and he had decisions to make: Did he carry out this action to save Tressa and, if he did, was it for Tox and the Zahl or for his father and the doomed resistance?

  The alarm went off, ripping him from a dream of being chased by an unseen, snarling predator in the darkness. He slapped the wailing device on his nightstand and wiped sweat from his face. Sweeping his legs from underneath the sheets, Nat felt a cold chill run down his bare back.

  Was he really going through with this?

  He showered, staring at the gray wall as the water beaded on the surface. He changed into his flight suit and slid the counterfeit tablet inside his satchel. Pausing in front of the mirror, he wondered if it might be the last time he saw himself in uniform. His partial wings, glistening from their still new silver sheen, reflected the room's light. He wanted nothing more than to unite the wing pin and become a fully-fledged pilot.

  He sighed. How had everything become so complicated?

  He shook his head and left the room, determined to carry out this next act. He didn't care about his father, but Tressa was different.

  Thumux had arrived at the office early, filing his flight plan with the Atheron planetary control tower. Three other pilots hunched over tablets, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands as they appeared to go over necessary logistics for the day.

  The captain cast a brief glance in Nat's direction as he entered.

  "Ah," Thumux grumbled with just the slightest hint of a smile and turned back to his screen, "you survived your night on the town, eh?"

  His stomach twisted with guilt. "I suppose so," he said, clearing his throat as he joined Thumux at the desk. "I'm not late, am I?"

  "Not at all. I don't sleep well when my flight plans get disturbed by local trash who happened to get their hands on a rocket launcher. Bunch of crazies. We'll all be better off when they've all be rounded up." He shook his head. "It has a way of ruining my whole day and night, so I got tired of tossing and turning. I thought I'd come in here and plan the return flight for us—especially after you did such a good job getting us here."

  The compliment wedged into his heart like a rusted ice pick. He wouldn't be able to go through with this ...

  Thumux blinked, turning to face Nat. "We’re not scheduled to leave for a while. You could catch a few more winks if you want."

  Nat bit his lip. "No, I'm good. Just ready to get this over with."

  It wasn't a lie.

  "All right," Thumux said. "I got to hand it to you, Nat, you have more discipline than I did at your age."

  Thumux went on to show Nat the flight plan, but the information jumbled into a mess. He couldn't concentrate. He watched the man he had grown to respect and wondered if he could indeed go through with this crazy idea.

  Once they had done all they could to plan the long flight back to Yesro Vraun ferrying necessary office supplies, they had a quiet breakfast consisting of salty ham on a biscuit and coffee that tasted like something had burnt inside the pot. Pulling two rusted steel folding chairs and placing them just out the door of their office, Thumux sat to watch the shuttles take off and pass through the dome gate hundreds of marks above the ground. He said he had grown up in a dome, and Atheron felt like home.

  But for the first time in his life, Nat struggled to find any enjoyment in watching the air traffic at the base. He only managed two bites of the biscuit.

  "So why do you never talk about your family?"

  Nat blinked as the blood drained from his face. "What's that?"

  "I know you're from these parts," Thumux said, blowing steam off the mug. "You probably know more about this dome than me."

  Nat winced and looked at the night filtered through the purple hue of the dome. "Never been here."

  "Really? Huh. I thought your file said you were born here."

  He shook his head, uncomfortable with the sudden personal interest in his life. "Back on Tar—ah, Yesro Vraun. Never left."

  "Wow," Thumux said, setting his coffee down on the ground and crossing his arms over his chest. "Whole life on one planet, huh? That must be tough."

  The smile faded as he looked south, his home planet coming into view. "No," he said, almost to himself. "It was great. All I did was play games and dream. My whole life was ahead of me."

  Thumux sat in silence for a long moment. "You're a real uplifting person once you get to know you."

  He faked a laugh. "Thanks."

  "Come on," Thumux said, slapping Nat's knee. "Let's get underway. We've got a long flight ahead of us."

  Thumux finished preflight. The engines rumbled, and the systems on the control board whined into life. Nat barely heard any of it. His flight suit had filled with sweat by the time the shuttle lifted off the landing pad. Heart thudding, he placed his fingers inside his chest pocket and touched the metal card.

  He knew he had to knock out Thumux before passing through the dome gate. Otherwise, it'd be too late, and they would be noticed turning around to return to the prison.

  Was this the right thing to do? Was he out of his mind?

  Questions surged into his mind in a flurry. Thumux eased back on the stick, pulling the shuttle away from the port.

  Think of Tressa.

  Nat yanked the card from his chest pocket, his hands shaking as he held it on his thigh.

  "What's that?" Thumux asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye. "You okay?"

  Hesitating for another heartbeat, Nat raised the card toward Thumux.

  "What are you doing?"

  Nat pressed his thumb to the card. A blue flash illuminated the surface a second before erupting like lightning. The sparks shot forward, wrapping around Thumux's head and torso. His eyes bulged as he spun around, staring at Nat with a mix of horror and betrayal. He blinked as the last few fingers of electricity faded—but he hadn't passed out!

  "Traitor!" Thumux screamed, shaking his head and reaching for his sidearm.

  Unstrapping his harness, Nat lunged forward, reaching for his hands. They struggled. The shuttle dropped as the stick pushed forward.

  Panicked, Nat kept the captain's gun in the holster for a second before Thumux hurled him back to the copilot's seat.

  Nat fell back and raised the card again.

  "Native scum!" Thumux yelled, grabbing his gun.

  Nat had no weapon other than the card. It was his only choice. Pressing down again, another blue light filled the cockpit. Thumux cried out, the electricity filling the air as he dropped the pistol to the deck.

  But he still wasn't knocked out.

  Nat fired, again and again, the final bolts fizzling and striking the larger man. He slumped over the stick, the shuttle falling straight for the planet. His head twitched twice but remained still.

  Moving quickly, Nat shifted flight control to his stick. He yanked Thumux's flight tablet from the cons
ole, the control board flashing red, forcing the forgery in as quickly as possible. The inserted tablet sent out the renewed transponder and flight plan, transmitting the false signals for anyone watching.

  Recovering control, he banked toward the prison and waited for the inevitable call from the control tower.

  It never came.

  Jax may have been wrong about the incapacitating power of the card's bolt, but he had been right about the counterfeit tablet. No alarm bells had gone off indicating patrolling Interceptors were in pursuit. No orders to land.

  Breathing heavily, Nat adjusted his flight to bear down on the prison. The looming castle shape dominated the northern edge of the dome city. Immense towers stretched in the sky, the dual anti-aircraft heavy lasers aimed up as if expecting a planetary bombardment. Halfway down from the pinnacle of the black fortress, a beacon for the landing pad appeared on his HUD courtesy of the new flight plan.

  Reaching down, he grabbed the Captain's sidearm and sighed. He glanced at Thumux slumped forward on his controls and frowned. Hurting his commanding officer had been the last thing he had wanted to do. He had been kind and helpful during their time together. He didn't deserve this happening to him. Maybe he would get a chance to explain this all to him ... if he survived.

  Buckling in and focusing on flying, he hoped Jax was right about the knockout power of the card. If Thumux woke before they had arrived at the prison, this early morning attempt at a jailbreak was going to get interesting.

  Easing back on the throttle, he allowed the shuttle to inch forward and hover over the square landing pad illuminated in white lines. He craned his neck for a better view, searching for any sign of movement on the surface. For all he could see, the prison seemed empty. No maintenance crews moved. He stared at the black castle. Cracks and craters broke the smooth walls Nat assumed were from the invasion when the Atheron garrison had tried in vain to fight off the Zahl. He wondered if the Atheron colony had been any more successful than Tarrafa ...