by Justin Sloan
“Smart,” Kalan said.
Then he saw it through the window behind Jilla: a large transport was headed straight at them, flanked by a dozen fighters who blasted away at the ships, providing cover fire. The transport flew closer, then disappeared from view after it passed the window. A moment later Flamebird shook, bobbing in the water as the transport landed on top of them.
“Should we go out there?” Kalan asked.
Commander Larence shook his head. “The fighters would pick us off. They’ll try to board, then we’ll kick their teeth in.”
“I knew I liked you, Commander,” Kalan said.
There were fifteen Lavkins on the enclosed observation deck, plus Kalan and his friends. None of them spoke as they waited, having taken cover behind the long metal seats around the room. They’d be semi-protected, but able to shoot at anyone who came through the doors.
They heard a thump as something hit the hatch that led to an airlock. Clearly that was where the Pallicons were trying to get in.
Commander Larence turned to the group. “These beings are attacking your ship. Your home. Your inheritance. Let’s smash them into the ground.”
A moment later a boom shook the ship and the airlock door flew inward, blown off its hinges by some explosive. Twenty-five Pallicon soldiers burst through the doorway.
Kalan and his friends immediately began firing on the Wandarby cultists. They’d each taken down one before the entire group had made it through the door.
“I’ll be back,” Wearl shouted in Kalan’s ear. “I’m going to see if they have more explosives.”
Kalan barely registered the remarks. He was too busy attacking.
A few minutes into the battle, Kalan noticed something strange. The Pallicons were all staring at him in wide-eyed wonder.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice their strange behavior.
“I’m an idiot,” Commander Larence said loudly. “They know we have a Bandian now! We have to make sure none of them leave here alive.”
An explosion much bigger than the one that had blown out the airlock door came from above them, shaking the ship violently.
A moment later Wearl was next to Kalan again, and spoke in his ear. “It turned out they did have more explosives. I used them to blow up their transport.”
The Pallicons shouted into their radios even as they tried to fight. Kalan couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but he did make out the words “Bandian” and “extraction.”
He glanced at the observation window and spotted another approaching transport.
“They’ve got reinforcements incoming!” he yelled. If he’d understood the snippets of conversation, the Pallicons had called for extraction, and with the reinforcements, Kalan didn’t know if they could stop that from happening.
The Pallicons let out a collective cheer as they saw the transport and fell back, exiting through the door they’d blown open.
Kalan started to follow them, but someone grabbed his shoulder.
“You have to stay here,” Commander Larence ordered. “We can’t risk more Pallicons spotting you.” He and the other Lavkins ran after the enemy troops.
“Hey!” Bob shouted to Kalan. “Remember that thing we talked about? With Jilla and Wearl?”
Kalan remembered the plan Bob had suggested: sending Jilla and Wearl to infiltrate the Wandarby cult. He was opening his mouth to say it was still a bad idea, but Jilla spoke first.
“He’s right. It’s going to be chaos getting their soldiers onto the second transport. We’re not going to get a better chance than this.”
Kalan considered objecting, but he knew she was right. This was a golden opportunity. “You’ll need a uniform. How about that one?” He pointed to a dead Pallicon near them.
“That’s a captain’s uniform. I want a grunt’s so I can stay anonymous. That one!”
Wearl pulled the body she’d indicated over, and Jilla shifted back to her Pallicon form and started changing into the dead soldier's clothes.
A few moments later she was dressed.
“Be careful,” Kalan said. “Both of you.”
“We’re infiltrating an enemy cult,” Jilla replied. “I don’t think ‘careful’ is on the menu, but we’ll do our best. Come on, Wearl.”
She headed for the airlock and the transport beyond.
Kalan and Bob watched through the observation window as the transport flew away. The Pallicon fighters followed.
“Did we win?” Bob asked.
Kalan considered that a moment. The Pallicons had failed to destroy Flamebird, but they had learned a Bandian was here with the Lavkin squadron. He didn’t yet know if Jilla and Wearl had managed to get aboard the transport, and even if they had, it remained to be seen whether their mission would be successful.
“Honestly, Bob, I’m not sure,” Kalan admitted.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Osh had left Valerie and Robin at a strange mud hut with sleeping mats of vibrant green, which were way too long for them. Before they could get situated, the doors slid open and a thin female Lavkin appeared, eyes wide at the sight of them. She looked very much like Osh, but her skin was adorned with red paint in swirling patterns and she had gold leaves plastered to her forehead.
“You two speak our language?” the female asked.
“No, but we have translators,” Valerie replied, then wondered if it would’ve just been easier to say yes. To her relief, the female nodded.
“My name is Swarne,” the female said as she stepped in. After a quick glance around, she frowned. “My apologies that we couldn’t get you better accommodations. My brother tells me you’re here for word of that strange Lolack?”
Valerie nodded. “Do you know anything about him?”
“Only that he was here, and that he spoke mostly with the one you’re meeting tomorrow. I was sent by her to ensure you have everything you need.”
“And maybe to see if we’re trustworthy? Safe?”
“Not at all. If Osh says you’re safe, we are good with that. You see, Osh has the ability to judge someone’s character. He’s never been wrong.”
“Is that so?” Valerie smirked, doubting it.
“He said you both have sordid pasts and you have taken lives, but that it is not your intent to do so here.” Now it was Swarne’s turn to smile, and she cocked her head. “Is that correct?”
Valerie shifted on her feet uneasily. “He guessed all that from speaking with us for a few minutes?”
“As I said, very in tune with the universe, my brother. The rest, less so.” Her eyes moved from one to the other; she seemed to be overwhelmed. “My apologies! It’s just that we don’t see too many visitors, and we’ve never seen your type. What do they call you?”
“’Humans,’” Robin replied. “And sometimes ‘badass chicks.’”
“Let’s stick with humans,” Valerie said with a laugh, then nudged Robin.
“And the planet you are from…it’s different from ours?” Swarne asked. “More...beautiful?”
“It was, once,” Robin said.
“There are parts that still are.” Valerie remembered her time in the fjords of Norway, with their rolling green hills and water glimmering in the sunset. There was no doubt that many parts of Earth were still incredible, but Robin had a limited view of the world. It made sense, considering her more recent transformation to a vampire. That took time to get over, and the craving for human blood was certain to change your outlook on life.
She was glad neither of them had that craving anymore.
“You know,” Robin began, taking a minute to look at the ground, then at her hands. She seemed to be analyzing them. “She’s right. It’s not all bad, but it’s really the people who make it what it is. Like here… I saw your brother’s love for his family. That! That right there is what I see as the true beauty of any world.”
“Your family, it is big like ours?” Swarne asked.
Robin shook her head, looking wistful. “No, it’s just my
parents and me. They wanted more, but they’re growing old. Too old for that, honestly. Always wanted a sister and they always wanted to give me one, but…”
“Earth has had its problems,” Valerie interjected. “Even if a couple can have children, the situation doesn’t always allow it. Or didn’t, anyway. We worked to change that, and I think we did a damn good job.”
“Otherwise we would still be there fighting for a better world,” Robin said, her sorrow giving way to a smile. She looked at Valerie and held her gaze.
After a moment, Swarne cleared her throat. “I will be there tomorrow. If you would be so kind, I would love to hear more about it, but now I will let you get your sleep.”
“Thank you,” Valerie said, and Robin repeated it as the female departed.
The hut was better than sleeping on the ship, but their comms didn’t work here, so they worried that the others would start to wonder about them. Gentle music was playing, as soft and melodic as if it were one with the cool breeze blowing through the open window. Valerie went to it, staring out at the vast carvings of worshiping Lavkins looming over the land as the coming storm and murky sky blocked out the stars.
Kalan was out there somewhere. She hoped he and the others were safe, but knew he could handle himself.
How could places like this exist in the universe, and so many people—races of aliens, even—not know? They would never witness its beauty or its perfection, yet here she was with Robin. A glance back at the young woman, who was curled up on the mat with her eyes on the statues as well, and Valerie started to think maybe they could stay here as long as they wanted. It was so peaceful, so beautiful. There was no question in her mind what had brought Lolack here.
And staring at Robin, she wondered if the woman was lying there like that on purpose. Like maybe she wanted Valerie to come to her, to embrace her and lie with her. Maybe?
She cocked her head and Robin’s eyes moved to hers. There was a gentle smile on her lips. Those perfect lips.
Valerie removed her body armor and laid down behind Robin, wrapping an arm around her.
“Um, what the fuck?” Robin asked, body instantly going rigid.
Valerie pulled her hand back, sitting up as if shocked. “Oh shit. Read that wrong?”
“I’m lying here relaxed, ready to get some well-earned sleep...and you take that as a sign to what…cop a feel?”
“I didn’t cop anything!”
“There was definite side-boob grazing.” Robin sat up now too, on the other side of the mat. She put her face in her hands and Valerie wondered if she were crying, but then heard her laugh.
“This is funny?”
Robin stood, arms spread wide. “Yes, actually. In that ironic way, not the ha-ha way. Come on, Val! Is this place amazing? Of course, but that doesn’t mean we should revert to our old ways, or that the war out there is any less pressing.”
With that, Robin went to the corner where her armor was and began dressing.
“Where are you going?” Valerie demanded.
“I need some fresh air.”
“You mean you need a break from me?”
“No,” Robin fastened her chest plate. “It’s you who needs a break from me.”
“Don’t be like that,” Valerie said. She went to the door after her, but Robin was walking faster than Valerie cared to. Dammit, she’d made a mistake…she saw that.
It was the perfection of this place; like a drug that promised its user everlasting bliss, but apparently had its side effects. She wanted to hit herself, then run after Robin and apologize. Promise to never even look at her like that again.
Instead, she laid back on the mat and covered her face with a pillow, then screamed into it. Although she had come to realize life out here was about the bigger picture, and although she had told herself that she was bigger than love and relationships, she was still a woman in her mid-thirties, depending on how one judged age for a vampire. She chose to go with the version that put her in her mid-thirties. To give up on emotions and feelings at that age was a strength even she didn’t possess.
She let the pillow fall to the side of the mat and lay staring at the ceiling for several minutes. If she were on Earth, what would she do? Likely go find her friend Sandra and ask her what to do, she realized with a laugh. Sandra would say you could do it all; that ignoring one’s needs and feelings would, in the end, lead to more distractions than following through with them in the first place.
Well, damn. Robin certainly wasn’t there. Maybe that meant Valerie would have to fight for her, or... Or respect her feelings and be open to other avenues of love.
Damn, this was all so complicated. She’d much rather run into the street, find a bad guy, and kick his or her ass.
How was it, she wondered, that she had become this person? A superpowered vampire—if she could even call herself that anymore—who felt more comfortable with violence than emotions? If her parents were still alive, she couldn’t believe they’d look too highly on that.
The music continued to drift in, but it started to feel less peaceful and more melancholy; perhaps even creepy. Each note seemed to pluck at Valerie’s bones, sending a chill through her and reminding her that Robin had gone out alone on an alien planet.
Sure it was peaceful and beautiful; almost perfect, even. But it was plain sense that you didn’t split up in situations like this. While she hadn’t seen many movies during her time with Bad Company, she did know enough to understand that this was not a good thing.
Now she understood it—the fascination with films. They weren’t just fun, they were educational. Like that one about a mermaid that she had watched at least three times before taking off on their mission, which had taught her that it was smart to do what you think is best, even if your parents disagreed. In the end, she had gotten her legs and her man after all. Valerie was determined to watch more movies when she had a chance to see what other values humans had once had, when they’d had time and energy to produce those majestic creations.
With a sigh she stood and threw her armor back on, intent on finding Robin to make sure she was okay. Nothing more, though. She hoped they wouldn’t run into trouble, wandering the city without an escort.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Pallicon transport was crowded with smelly battle-soiled soldiers, each of whom were dealing with the lack of space in their own way. Some shifted to a thin form not unlike that of the Lavkins. A few tried to assert their dominance by shifting to a larger-than-normal shape in order to take up even more room. The majority suffered in silence, enduring the crowded space with sour looks on their faces, but without complaining loud enough for their superior officers to hear them.
Jilla tried to blend into that last group. She wanted to attract as little attention as possible. Attention would lead to questions and questions would almost certainly lead to her being found out, so she stayed as still as possible, hoping no one would notice she was out of place.
Wearl, on the other hand, was anything but silent. “Sons of prison troughs! If I get another elbow to the face, I’m going to rip out someone’s spine and use it as dental floss.”
“Gross,” Jilla whispered. She couldn’t much blame her friend for her prickly attitude. Being invisible in a crowded space was a surefire way to get trampled feet, and a lot worse. It was crowded enough in the transport that wherever she stood, someone mistook it for an empty place and tried to claim it. Thankfully it was also crowded enough that no one seemed to notice they were bumping against an invisible person.
Eventually, Jilla moved a bit out from the wall and Wearl squeezed in behind her.
The ride up to the Wandarby cult’s warship only took twenty minutes, but they were some of the longest of Jilla’s life. She half-expected to be found out at any moment. Most of the tough situations in her life she’d been able to fight her way out of. Granted, she had spent a good chunk of time in a Skulla temple, but other than that she’d been pretty lucky. If this went wrong, her luck would end for go
od. There’d be no chance of talking or fighting her way out of this one.
As their transport ship docked, attaching to an airlock on the large warship, she felt the soldiers collectively exhale. The tension seemed to drain out of them. They were done with their battle, and back home. Many of them began to chatter to each other, giving Jilla the cover she needed to speak to Wearl.
She turned her head and whispered, “Ready?”
“You know I am,” Wearl said. “To recap, the plan is for me to access the ship’s records, get all the intel I can, and then get us out of here?”
“Yes,” Jilla whispered.
“Why’d I bring you along again? It kinda feels like I’m doing the heavy lifting.”
“I’ll be learning what I can about the cult,” Jilla reminded her.
The door to the transport opened and a captain stepped through.
“That’s my cue,” Wearl announced. “See you when I’m done.”
“Good luck,” Jilla said, but the lack of answer made her think the Shimmer was already gone.
The captain stood at attention in front of the gathered troops. “The fighting is done. Now is the time for celebration.”
A cheer went up among the soldiers.
Jilla had to admit she was getting a better deal than Wearl. A celebration sounded pretty good.
The soldiers marched out of the transport and down a long corridor in the warship. Jilla wedged herself somewhere near the middle so she didn’t have to know where she was going, and where she wasn’t likely to be spotted by the officer trailing behind them.
The troops eventually made their way through a large set of double doors at the end of the corridor and entered a large, open room lined with benches. Jilla followed the others’ lead and took a seat.
The room fell silent as a Pallicon in a simple black robe stepped to the front. He held a single white flower.
“What is this flower?” he asked, holding it aloft.
The troops responded in unison. “It is the universe, the great design, and all good things.”
“What am I?” the strange priest asked.