by Justin Sloan
"Let’s hope not," Valerie said, then stopped talking. The ship had landed and the ramp was opening.
Out stepped the most outlandish character she had ever seen. On its head was a grand helmet that was the same chaotic shape as its transport ship. Its body was mostly covered by a green robe, which seemed to be covering armor that had all manner of cables running out of it and behind it to the robotic creatures following it. They were tall and gray, reminding Valerie of Kalan and her desire to find him. The difference was that these creatures had glowing red eyes. She could finally see why that freaked out her enemies when she did it. They also had spiked limbs, and clearly visible projectile weapons.
When the main figure stopped, its voice seemed to echo from all around them as it began, "The one and only Valerie, I presume?"
She was taken aback by the fact that it knew her name, but merely replied, "Yes."
"I’ve heard such great things," it said, and for a moment it was like a mist of green fogged its helmet, and she was able to see within—as if the fogging worked the opposite way. It was a male, similar to the Norrul, but his protrusions looked to be full metal and connected to his suit.
"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" she said in her most formal tone.
"You may call me Demus, but to all others I am High Priest Demustrius." He stopped moving and his robots formed a semicircle around him, facing her.
"And what have you heard?" Valerie asked.
"Only that you, too, seek justice. That you fight for this justice, and are ruthless in its quest. That you have done great things in the name of justice, as have I." He held out first his right hand, then his left, gesturing to the planet they were on and the universe beyond. "Many planets in the galaxies nearby have agreed. They bow the knee and recognize me as their god to avoid continued injustice. The suffering must stop. The pain must cease. We can make that happen across the rest of the universe."
"’We?’"
"You and I, child," he said, holding a hand out to her now. It was gloved, but seemed warm and inviting.
She resisted the urge to grasp it. "Sir, I assume you’ve come at the call of the AI, Aranaught."
"She alerted me to a need," he replied cautiously.
"A need to fight Admiral Lolack and his fleet? My friends?"
His hand withdrew. "You would ally yourselves with them? Do you know what evil they’ve brought upon my kind?"
"Tell me," she requested.
After an audible breath his helmet turned to her and Robin, assessing each of them in turn. "The fleet has stood in my way for too long. If not for them, I would have had my justice long ago. My people would be free, and—"
"The Norruls?" Valerie asked. "That’s what this is about? That not all of them are free?"
"In a sense."
"And if they were free, you would let the other planets and galaxies be?"
He snorted. "Of course not! No independent planet can be trusted. It is only when you have them under control that you can monitor them, ensure they are playing by the rules." Again he stuck out his hand, more forcibly this time. "For the last time, I give you the option to join me!"
"You’d free your people and claim justice by enslaving everyone else," she asked, unable to hide her disdain. "I don’t see any honor or justice in that, only cowardice. Only a megalomaniac who isn’t afraid to hurt anyone in his path would do something like that."
The robots around him hissed and took offensive stances, but Demus stood tall, hand still outstretched.
"A firm no, then?" he confirmed.
"That’s right."
"Then that’s how it is, and this is how it ends for you," he replied, and she heard whirring and electricity formed around his outstretched hand.
"Oh, shit," Robin said, already charging to pull Valerie out of the way. The bolt of lightning that passed them slashed the ground, sending the previous debris flying.
"Everyone on the ship," Valerie shouted into her comm, already up and running with Robin at her side.
"Couldn’t we have just shot him in the face?" Robin asked as they leaped over a wall. As soon as they were clear, it exploded in a blast of lightning.
"Something tells me he was ready for that," Valerie countered.
"Still, even just a small slap would’ve made me feel better."
Valerie chuckled. "From where we are now? Me too!"
Flynn was already in the air and flying toward them, and suddenly swerved as a shot hit right in front of him.
"Where’s Garcia?" Valerie asked, glancing around.
"Over here!" came his response, and she saw the two of them almost at the ship, near where the shot had hit. The ramp had opened and they had just entered when another bolt flashed. This one hit the Grandeur, apparently taking a chunk out of shields and sending the ship off-course.
"Behind the building," Valerie shouted into her comm, and she and Robin changed course to their left.
"They’re shooting from above," Robin pointed out.
"At least he won’t be able to see us to shoot that lightning," Valerie replied, gesturing to the way the ground sunk down behind the nearest cliff face. Still, Robin had a point and the shots from above kept raining down.
A shot came close enough to cause Valerie to have to leap sideways when she noticed the shadow, the next striking the ground between her and Robin. A horrific moment passed when Valerie thought her friend had been hit, but Robin came charging through the smoke and grabbed her by the forearm, and the two were on their way again.
"On the other side," Valerie told Flynn, and watched as the ship disappeared. "We’re coming from the roof."
"What?" Robin asked doubtfully.
"So they don’t expect it," Valerie answered.
They reached the edge of the building and Valerie led the way, using the back fence to leap up and onto the roof. They scrambled to their feet to jump to the next one as a blast of lightning hit nearby and the roof burst into flames.
"You’ve got to be kidding me!" Robin exclaimed, then shouted, "This was your plan?"
"Keep up, slow poke," Valerie replied, and reached the highest point. "Now, Flynn!"
The Grandeur appeared, ascending with ramp down and pointed in their direction. Valerie pulled Robin up and they ran and leaped for the ramp, landing as the ship started to pull away.
"Get us out of here!" Garcia shouted, pulling them in. "We’ve got them."
"Tenowk!" Flynn called, and there was a shout of frustration from Demus, followed by a response that sounded like the IAI’s voice.
"I blocked them momentarily, but it won’t hold long. There’s something about these guys; some force pushing back, like a counterbalance to Aranaught."
"Not quite their own AI," Aranaught’s voice came through, "but something just as powerful, or more so."
"Do we have a trace on Rokal and whatever he grabbed?" Valerie asked as the ramp closed. She was damn glad to have made it.
"Thanks to Tenowk," Flynn said, turning with a smile to see her. They saw only sky and space ahead as they quickly left the planet behind.
"Thank you, Tenowk," Valerie said, plopping into her seat. "Thank you, everyone. I’m going to close my eyes for a second. Wake me when we’re almost there or I’m about to die. Either works."
It wasn’t much later, however, when they woke her.
"You’re going to want to see this." Robin nudged her and pointed to the display, which showed a large, lone ship. Made of a dark metal that nearly blended with the void around it, the ship appeared to be moving slowly, more interested in traveling undetected than getting anywhere quickly.
"What is it?" Valerie asked.
"That’s where we traced Rokal to," Flynn replied.
"The prison ship," Jilla said. "SEDE."
Valerie sat up, heart thumping. The unfindable prison ship was right in front of them. They had a chance to save Kalan after all.
CHAPTER NINE
Swarthian Extended Detention Environment (SEDE)
Nostro moved through the ship with a practiced speed and agility that forced Kalan and Wearl to move much faster than they had on their previous escape attempts. Kalan figured his confidence came from having every guard on SEDE in his pocket. The Shimmers also manned the security monitors, so they didn’t have to worry about being spotted that way.
Nostro led them up another in a long string of ladders. As he climbed, he called back down to Kalan, "So tell me, Grayhewn… Why do you want out of this place so badly?"
The question annoyed Kalan. It was a prison. Why did anyone want to get out of prison? "Because it totally and complete sucks in here."
Nostro let out a displeased grunt. "That’s no answer. Let me put it another way… Your mother is here. The majority of beings you grew up with are here. Not only that, but they are in constant danger. Why are you trying to leave instead of staying here to protect your friends and family?"
Kalan’s annoyance threatened to turn to anger. "Perhaps my mother would prefer I spend my life out in the expanse of space living to the fullest rather than huddling in here with her, even if it might make her a tiny bit safer."
"Uh huh. You always do what your mommy tells you?"
Thankfully Wearl spoke before Kalan could lash back at him.
"Let’s keep our focus on what we’re doing, and refrain from saying things likely to get us punched." She paused for a moment. "Besides, Kalan’s mom is the best. I do what she tells me, and that’s saying a lot."
Nostro chuckled. "Okay, sorry I asked."
Kalan sighed, wondering how bad things had gotten when Wearl was the voice of reason. Something about Nostro’s words bothered him, though. Not just that they questioned his integrity, but that there was a hint of truth to them. "You know what? It’s actually a fair question. The truth is, I have another family—one outside SEDE. And I believe they need my help more than the people in here do."
Nostro finally reached the top of the ladder and stepped off, shaking the metal deck with the weight of his bulky blue form. "Ah, yes—the Justice Enforcer and her Elites."
Damn, Kalan thought. Was there anything this guy didn’t know?
"My Shimmers keep me quite well informed of the happenings in the system, and the Prime Enforcer has certainly been ‘happening’ recently."
"It’s not just them," Kalan told Nostro as he reached the top of the ladder. "You heard of the Lavkin?"
For the first time since Kalan had met him, the big Pallicon looked surprised.
"The Lost Fleet? They’ve returned?"
Kalan grinned. "Maybe the Shimmers aren’t keeping you as up to date as you think."
"They wouldn’t keep anything from me—especially something that important."
As soon as he stopped speaking Nostro rocked back on his heels, as if he’d been lightly shoved. Then Wearl spoke, her voice coming from close to Nostro’s face. "Your Shimmers? I’ve about had it with you talking about my people like you own them. I want to know why the guards listen to you, and I want to know now!"
Nostro looked at the empty space in front of his face for a long moment, then nodded. He reached down and pulled something from inside his coat. At first glance it looked like a knife and Kalan tensed, but then he realized “knife” wasn’t quite the right descriptor. This object was too thick to qualify, and didn’t appear very sharp. Looking at it, Kalan had the feeling that it had grown rather than been forged.
"Do you know what this is?" Nostro asked.
There was a long pause, then Wearl answered in a shaky voice. "I know. What can I do to help?"
Nostro smiled. "You’re already doing it."
Kalan blinked hard, trying to understand. He’d never heard Wearl sound like that: both afraid and... awed? Her attitude toward Nostro had changed in a split second. "Someone want to catch me up? What is that thing?"
"Should we tell him?" Nostro asked. "Your call."
There was another long pause. "Not now," Wearl finally answered. "It’s too much to tell. I’m sorry, Kalan, we’ll catch you up later. For now, just know that no Shimmer would ever so much as touch a hair on this Pallicon’s head."
"Or my face, hopefully." Nostro ran a hand over the coarse black hairs that stuck out of his face at odd angles, causing them to jiggle wildly. He laughed at Kalan’s disgusted expression. "Let’s keep moving."
Kalan followed, but his mind remained on what he’d just seen. Wearl had never kept anything from him before, at least to his knowledge. He wondered what that strange object could mean to her and the Shimmers to have made her start keeping secrets now.
Nostro led them to a section of the ship Kalan and Wearl had never seen before. It was on the upper levels, the majority of which were used for guard housing and the engine rooms. Kalan had no idea what type of proof Nostro hoped to find up here.
As if reading his thoughts, Nostro pointed to a darkened doorway up ahead. "This is the server room. All the security footage is stored there, including some that Captain Tuttle would prefer no one see."
They stepped through the door and the lights came on, momentarily blinding Kalan. At first, he thought the lights must have been automated, but then he saw Captain Tuttle standing in front of them.
"Footage I’d prefer no one see?" he asked. "That’s an unkind assessment, Nostro. I’m a protector of justice. We don’t hide our deeds in the shadows."
"Uh, you were literally just hiding in that shadow," Wearl pointed out.
Tuttle ignored the comment. "Thank you, Kalan and Wearl. I asked you to get Nostro out of the One-Eight-Nine, and you did that."
"Maybe so," Kalan answered, "but we’re not handing him over. A few things have changed since last we spoke. I guess you could say the deal’s off."
"Yes, it is." The captain smiled at him gently. "I’m afraid there will be no isolation block in your future. No more doing jobs for me, either. I’m going to have to kill you."
Kalan squinted at the small unarmed Skulla, who was standing in front of a Grayhewn, a massive Pallicon, and a perpetually pissed-off Shimmer. "You don’t talk like a guy who’s facing three enemies alone."
"He’s not," Wearl answered. The anger was clear in her voice. "He’s got twenty-five Shimmers standing around him."
Tuttle’s smile widened. "It took some convincing, but they agreed to help me. I promised I would pardon Nostro for all the infractions he’s committed on SEDE, and leave the One-Eight-Nine alone from now on."
Nostro shook his head. "Don’t do this."
The deep voice of a male Shimmer answered, "We will protect you no matter the cost, Nostro. That means killing them."
The Pallicon grimaced. "Fine. We’ll do it the hard way." He began to grow, his already massive blue body enlarging rapidly. He turned to Kalan and Wearl. "Run!"
Kalan didn’t bother arguing; he understood what Nostro was doing. Knowing that the Shimmers wouldn’t risk hurting him, he was making himself as large a target as possible—hopefully large enough that the Shimmers wouldn’t risk shooting near him.
Pallicons could grow very large, but the physical and mental strain could cause them to spend the next week in bed if they went too far with it. Kalan wouldn’t let Nostro’s costly defense go to waste. He immediately took off running down the corridor.
"Wearl, you with me?" he shouted as he turned a corner, not daring to look back.
"Here. Running through these damn corridors. Again."
"They say practice makes perfect. Maybe we’ll actually escape at some point."
"We’ll be lucky to escape with our lives this time."
Commotion and gunfire echoed down the corridor. Kalan thought he must have gotten turned around, since that gunfire wasn’t coming from the direction where they’d left Nostro and Tuttle.
"Do you have any idea where we are?" he asked.
Wearl sounded annoyed. "No. I thought you did."
Great. This was going even worse than usual. "We know we’re near the top of the ship. Let’s find a ladder and climb down."
That turned out to be easier said than done. They ran for another five minutes, turning at random corners; just attempting to go somewhere new in the hope that they’d eventually stumble across a way out of this maze.
Instead, they took another left and found themselves at a dead end.
Wearl let out a frustrated groan. "Now we’re definitely lost."
Kalan held up a hand for quiet. He’d heard something—more gunfire, and it appeared to be getting closer.
Chances were not great if the Shimmers cornered them in this dead end, but if he was going down, he was going down shooting.
Then he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor and a voice. "These invisible bastards are a real pain in the ass."
He recognized that voice, but he didn’t quite trust his ears. There was no way she could be here. No possible way.
Then she rounded the corner.
Valerie.
She was here. The Justice Enforcer herself.
And not just her.
Robin. Bob. Jilla. Flynn. Garcia. Even a couple of beings he didn’t recognize.
He lowered his weapon. "Valerie?"
She looked equally surprised to see him. "Holy shit. Kalan!"
They all wore shocked expressions, but Bob looked positively flabbergasted. "But...the cellblocks? The guards? How did you get out?"
Kalan couldn’t keep the grin off his face. "It’s good to see you too, buddy."
Valerie stalked toward him, her expression stern, then grabbed him in a tight hug. "You certainly have a way of attracting trouble."
"Me? Wearl and I were just doing my usual try-to-stay-alive-long-enough-to-breakout thing, and somehow you waltz into the most secure prison in the galaxy. How the hell did you get in here?"
Valerie cocked a thumb at Flynn. "This asshole got us in. He explained it, but I stopped paying attention when he started talking about algorithms."
Flynn grinned. "Honestly, it wasn’t that tough. You might want to rethink that whole ‘most secure prison on the galaxy’ thing. All I had to do was hack into the automated system and convince it we were a scheduled delivery, and it let us dock."