by Justin Sloan
“Just thought I’d give you an image of what you’ll look like in a few seconds,” the Pallicon taunted, then morphed back into herself and approached one of the weapons stands as it rose from the ground. She pulled out a bright red rifle and smiled. “Tell me, do vampires burn?”
Valerie moved in at an angle, beginning to circle around this shifter. She analyzed her to see what made her so special. Anyone who would come in against Valerie after seeing how she dealt with the three monstrosities must have a reason to be confident.
The female charged forward and then leaped left and then right, pouncing like a lion. In the air she started shooting. Pellets of some sort hit the ground around Valerie and exploded into flames, one burst nearly catching her as she dodged them.
Playing target-practice as the target wasn’t her idea of a good time, so she decided to close the gap. With no hesitation Valerie darted in, sword in hand, and cleaved through the Pallicon. The sword hit, but then was pushed out.
Valerie pursed her lips, confused, as she watched the female heal in what could only be described as liquid metal reforming itself.
“What the fuck are you?” Valerie asked.
“Furious, for one,” the female replied.
The vampire thrust again, fully expecting to fail but pushing fear in case it worked.
The effect was surprising. Instead of a simple frightened expression or urge to tell the truth, the female started screaming as the sword wound refused to heal. Blood seeped out, and it was clear this female wasn’t used to seeing her own. Valerie stumbled back, amazed and horrified. Had she caused that? Was it possible the power the Dark Messiah, Michael, had given her worked in unique ways on different alien races?
Now the Pallicon was pissed. Pissed, and likely scared. She charged again and thrust the rifle forward and a laser bayonet shot out, extending long enough to nearly catch Valerie. The second slash hit her armor in a burst of smoke and light, but then Valerie pushed fear again, thrusting, swiping, and slicing her opponent.
More screams, more blood.
The female leaped onto Valerie as metallic claws emerged from her hand. Valerie’s claws grew now too and the they went at each other as the claw strikes too were nullified by the Pallicon’s ability to heal herself and Valerie’s armor.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Valerie said, “so…sorry it has to be this way.”
She leaped back and pushed fear as strongly as she could, and at the same time she drew her pistol and went to town. The shots ripped her opponent apart.
The shifter’s screams were piercing and the look in her eyes was gut-wrenching, as if the female were seeing hell itself in that moment. And then she was on her back, barely alive and groaning in pain.
Valerie had stepped forward, ready to end it, when a loud voice cried, “ENOUGH!”
She looked up at the male beside the female leader. He wore grand robes, his head was shaved, and there was a circle of the red metal and gems on his brow.
The Bandian. It had to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Planet Tol: the Fighting Arena
For what seemed an eternity the Bandian glared down at Valerie, eyes full of hatred. When he opened his mouth, it certainly wasn’t to congratulate her on her victory, nor to challenge her to a fight.
Instead he shouted, “KILL HER!”
The crowds erupted in anger as guards streamed in and drones appeared over their heads, and everyone tensed for what was to come.
Suddenly shots started tearing into the guards from the audience and Valerie spun, searching for the source. Garcia was there with his rifle, but Robin wasn’t visible at first until movement showed the drones moving for Garcia. Then, in a flash of black armor, Robin leaped through the sky, tearing through them with her short swords and then using one to take down the others.
A shot nearly hit Valerie and she was reminded that a whole army was moving on her. Warmth surged at the sight of her friends—Valerie’s Elites—fighting at her side, in a sense. And that warmth intensified as she saw the Skulla rising, some of the fighters pushing their way out of the pits and attacking the guards, others moving down from the stands to join in.
Valerie had to keep the attention on her, so she ran straight for the Bandian. If his life was in danger, all firepower would be directed toward her.
Guards got in her way as she ran, but she cleaved through the first two, plowed through the next group by will and strength, and came out gun blazing. Drones formed a wall in front of the Bandian, and he leaped and landed on one of them.
“You think you know what we’re capable of?” he shouted furiously. “You Wandrei always come to our home trying to tell us what we can and can’t do, and you always leave in the end. One way or another, you’re finished here.”
He swooped down, kneeling on the drone like a miniature fighter as a small shield popped up and controls came into his hands. Other drones followed him, and they opened fire on Valerie.
One shot tore through her earlobe and another exploded on her body armor. She cursed herself for leaving her helmet on the Grandeur, but she would have to make do. Dodging back into the guards and using them as protection against the incoming drone shots, she returned fire before holstering her weapon and grabbing a guard with both hands. She heaved and sent him flying, his body hitting the drone and sending the Bandian off-course.
By the time the bastard had course-corrected, Valerie had pushed off one of the guards and taken her own drone. She’d half expected it to have some fail-safe that wouldn’t allow her to access the controls, but she brought the shield up and it responded, and now she and the Bandian were trying to shoot down each other’s drone.
Since more drones were moving toward her, she saw that this wouldn’t work for long. She also saw a welcome shape in the sky as the Grandeur appeared, her weapon systems ready. A battle was raging in the stands and on the arena’s floor, so the best bet was for Flynn to focus on the drones.
“Welcome to the action,” Valerie said into her comm, then dodged shots from the Bandian and swerved to avoid a drone that attempted a suicide mission against her.
“Lead them my way,” Flynn replied. “I’ve got them covered.”
She did just that, but as she crested the arena she saw that it wasn’t going to be so easy.
“We’ve got company!” she shouted as she turned her drone back and flew for the Grandeur. A dozen fighter jets rose over the top of the arena, half of them laying down a barrage of fire against the Grandeur and the other half against the people below—bad and good alike.
Valerie needed to end this.
She spun her drone and found the Bandian, zooming toward him as shots narrowly missed her, and then she leaped.
His eyes went wide at her action, but there was nothing he could do. She was on him in an instant, claws digging into his flesh as she pulled him from the drone. She had him!
Except that as they fell, she saw the other leaders being carried off by the drones to a larger ship behind the fighters. They weren’t here to stop the battle; they were here to escort the leaders to safety.
And right before she and the Bandian hit the ground one of the drones grabbed him, snatching him away from Valerie and up into the sky.
She clawed at empty air and then slammed into the ground with a thud.
“Val!” Robin screamed, and she was there a moment later, shooting and slicing into the nearby enemy. Garcia provided covering fire, while above the Grandeur went into evasive maneuvers.
All the breath had been knocked out of Valerie, so she laid there for precious seconds as the chaos raged around her. Then Robin pulled her to her feet and they were running.
“They’re escaping!” Flynn shouted over the comm. “What’s the word, Val?”
She coughed up blood, glad she would heal soon, and said, “We’ll meet you at the northeast side of the arena. At the top—get the ramp down and be ready.”
“Sure, if I’m not shot down first!”
> “You’re not allowed to be,” she replied with a grunt of pain. More shots plowed through the enemy and then Garcia was at their side, the three charging through the tunnels and up the stairs to the designated spot.
Valerie glanced at the fighting below. There was the fighter she had talked with, the one who had said she had been forced into the arena.
She saw Valerie and gave her a nod, then went back to slaughtering bad guys.
“Now!” Valerie called, gazing around for the Grandeur. “Where the hell are you?”
“Look alert!” Flynn called over the comm, dropping down nearly on top of them and pulling up at about the last minute. “They’re on my tail, so go go go!”
All three jumped. Garcia barely made it, but Robin was there to pull him the rest of the way in.
Garcia shouted at Flynn to gun it and they were off, giving chase to the ship that had escaped with the leaders. She hoped her new friends could handle the riot at the arena, because following the Bandian was the only way to truly end this.
Valerie moved to her seat and assessed the situation. The screen showed four fighters on their asses and three more escorting the ship ahead, and then another dot. Something small was coming in fast.
And then a message came through. “What the hell have you sonsabitches gotten yourselves into?” Bob shouted. “Damn, looks like we arrived just in time to save your sorry asses.”
“Woo!” Garcia shouted back. “I never thought I’d be saying this to you, but it’s good to hear your voice!”
“Sit back and put on your safety belt,” Valerie said. “These bastards mean business.”
As she finished her sentence the three ships ahead maneuvered to intercept them, circling back with weapons firing while behind them the other fighters rose to attack Bob and Kalan.
Playtime was just getting started.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Nim 47
Kalan gripped the flight controls and banked hard to the right, flying toward the ships pursuing the Grandeur.
“Think we should tell them we have the rightful ruler of the Vurugu system aboard?” Bob asked.
“No!” Kalan and Sslake answered in unison.
“If they find out I’m aboard they might want us to land,” Sslake pointed out, “and there’s no way I’m missing this.”
Kalan nodded. “Besides, we don’t know if these communications are secure. The last thing we want is the Bandian finding out you’re here.”
“All righty,” Bob sighed. “So we’re going to fly into an air battle without any weapons?”
“The yanecat has already left the jungle on that one. Besides, they don’t know we don’t have weapons. Now hold onto something.”
Kalan twisted the controls, sending them barrel-rolling east. He pulled out of it and let out a whoop of excitement as he positioned them directly behind one of the enemy fighters.
“Wearl says she’s going to be sick,” Bob said.
Kalan ignored the comment—he was too busy focusing on flying. He gunned it, racing straight toward the back of the enemy fighter.
As expected the fighter began evasive maneuvers, nose-diving to get out of Kalan’s path.
Kalan pulled parallel to the Grandeur.
“Bob!” Valerie’s voice barked through the comm. “What the hell? Why didn’t you guys blow his ass up?”
Bob glanced at Kalan.
“Insecure communications,” Kalan reminded him.
Bob rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah, boss, that was a strategic...thing.”
“Quit messing around!” Valerie ordered. “Shoot these guys out of the sky!”
Sslake leaned forward in his seat. “We need her to shoot them down.”
Kalan nodded his agreement. “We’ll try to maneuver them into a good position, but she needs to do the shooting. Tell her that, but without telling her, you know?”
“Not really.” He touched the button on the communicator. “Uh, boss, we’re going to focus on moving the fighters into a good position. Then you can take the shot.”
“What? Why?” Valerie asked.
“Uh, no reason. Seems like a practical way of doing battle. And I really can’t say more than that, so please don’t ask.”
Kalan grimaced. “Artfully done.”
“Really?”
“No. Hang on.”
He raced forward, pulling ahead of the Grandeur, then banked hard left. The fighter on their tail followed suit, exposing the top of the craft to the Grandeur.
Valerie and company didn’t waste the opportunity. Their weapons flashed, and fire erupted from the fighter’s backside. It careened wildly toward the ground.
“Oh hell yeah!” Kalan shouted.
Bob tilted his head, listening to Wearl. “I’m not telling him that.” He paused. “No, I don’t want you to rip my fingers off, but I’m not saying—” He sighed and turned to Kalan. “Wearl says you’re sexy when you fly.”
“Right back at you, Wearl. You too, Bob.” He angled the ship upward, trying to get above some of the other fighters. “Well, the good news is we’re as fast as their ships, and I’m a better pilot than any of them.”
“That’s promising,” Sslake allowed. “What’s the bad news?”
Kalan checked his monitor and saw two fighters closing in on him. “Sooner or later they’re going to figure out why we’re not firing on them.” He angled the Nim back downward, giving Valerie a clear shot at the two fighters without risking hitting him.
She took it, and another fighter spiraled toward the ground.
Sslake rubbed at his elongated chin. “We need a plan here. What are our options?”
Kalan hesitated. “There is one thing I’ve been contemplating, but it’s risky.”
“We’re in a firefight without working weapons,” Sslake pointed out. “Risky is where we currently live.”
Kalan nodded. The minister was right, and risk was the predecessor of success, as the old Pallicon saying went. “Bob, I need you to slide under the console again.”
The human paused. “Wait, what?”
“Do you think you could reconnect the weapons array?”
His eyes narrowed. “The one with the kill-switch in it?”
“That’s the only one we’ve got.”
“I think so.” He thought a moment. “No, I know so. I can do it.”
“Is that wise?” Sslake asked. “You said there’s a proximity meter that shuts off all power if the ship gets too far from SEDE. I’m pretty sure this counts as ‘too far.’”
“That’s true,” Kalan admitted, “but the thing is, I’m not exactly sure how it works. They had the device locked down so well I was never able to get a good look at it. Hold that thought a second.”
A fighter dropped in behind them and Kalan threw them into another barrel-roll, narrowly avoiding a blast from the enemy fighter.
The Grandeur quickly repaid their attacker, shooting it down while it was still focused on Nim 47.
“You were saying?” Sslake asked.
“There are two options,” Kalan continued. “It could be that the proximity meter tries to ping SEDE and if the pingback takes too long it activates the kill-switch.”
Bob scratched his head. “In which case, if we hook up the weapons we lose power and fall like a dead bird.”
“Yeah, but there’s another possibility. It could be that SEDE pings our sensor. If they detect we’re too far out, they send a signal to our proximity meter that activates the kill-switch. If that’s the case, we’re probably out of range.”
“Probably?” Bob asked.
“I say we do it,” Sslake immediately replied. “It’s worth the risk.”
Bob sighed for the umpteenth time. “Wearl agrees.”
“Me too,” Kalan said. “Sounds like we have a majority. Bob, do it.”
The human unbuckled his harness and dropped to the deck. “If we die, someone tell Kalan’s mom I regret never having made a move.”
“If you had you’d be regrett
ing a great many things,” Kalan muttered. He touched the communicator and spoke into it. “Valerie, you there?”
“You know it,” she answered. “We’re doing our best to pick them off, but sooner or later one of them’s going to get in a lucky shot.”
“I know. Listen, I’m going to try to wedge myself between the fighters and the Bandian’s ship. That way they won’t be able to shoot at me without risking hitting their boss. And they’ll be working hard to defend him, so that should give you the opportunity to take down a couple more.”
There was a long pause. “Okay, do it.”
“You’ll avenge us if we die, right?” he asked.
“Most definitely, now get to work.” She clicked off.
Kalan glanced down at Bob’s legs, which were sticking out from under the console. “How we doing down there, buddy?”
“Not bad. Almost there. Trying to remember where this green circuit goes.”
“It only fits in two slots. Put it in the one on the left.” Kalan paused. “You sure you got this? If you mess it up you could fry the console.”
“Don’t worry about me; concentrate on flying.”
Kalan had to admit that wasn’t a bad idea. He climbed until he was a few hundred meters above the Bandian’s impressive vessel.
“Hang on to something, Bob.” he cautioned and pushed the controls in, causing the nose to drop. They dove toward the Bandian’s ship.
Something clanged under the console and Bob shouted, “Ow! Son of a whore!” He paused a moment. “I’m trying, Wearl, but the way he’s flying doesn’t exactly lend itself to fine electrical work, you know?”
“Doing my best here!” Kalan responded, but he was only partially paying attention to the human’s rantings. His eyes were fixed on the monitor—just as he’d hoped, the fighters had turned their focus on him when he dove at their leader’s ship.
Now all he had to do was stay between the fighters and the lead ship so they couldn’t get off a clean shot while also staying out of the Grandeur’s way so Valerie could take out the rest of the fighters. Oh yeah, and also pray that the ship didn’t drop dead when Bob finished reconnecting the weapons array.