Dystance 3

by Mark Tufo

  “What I did not expect, what none of us could, was that the Genogerians have forbidden us from this crusade. Have ordered me to stand down. They are sending two battalions here to ensure we do nothing that could jeopardize peace.” He was taking great strides across the room as he allowed the troops to intake the new information. “I want you to think about that. The Genogerian High Council has told me that we cannot avenge the unjustified and savage attack upon my father, upon your kin, upon our race!”

  The looks of shock were turning to fury.

  “It is unlikely that where we go, we will return. The moment you became part of the Fighting 47th, you forfeited your life for the greater good of all Genogerians, no matter what some of them may think!”

  “One heart, one mind, one life to give, yet many to take!!” The collective had stood to repeat the mantra they lived by. I was swept up in the moment of it, and by the third go around, I had joined my voice with theirs. I was not alone; the rest of the table had as well, Tallow even getting atop it.

  It was long moments before it quieted in the great hall. Graylon had not attempted to silence them; he merely waited patiently as all eyes fixed on him. “I thought perhaps today we would rest and celebrate our lives and the victories we are sure to garner, but that is not to be. Even as I speak, their battalions are racing here. I am disgusted at their gutlessness, but I have no desire to war with our own. We will be leaving in an hour.” With that, he turned. The room thundered at his departure.

  “These Genogerians are fearsome creatures, but I fear that they are making a tactical mistake.” Serrot made sure to say it quietly enough as to not be overheard.

  “Even a thorn can take down a lion,” Frost said.

  I looked to her, there was a glint in her eyes.

  “Cedar, Winter, you have the best understanding of the great war vessels these Genos have; how do they compare?” Lendor asked.

  I nodded to Cedar. Whereas I was doing my best just to pilot, she had, again, gone several steps ahead and was learning about nearly every flying vessel known. She told me that she wanted to be prepared in any eventuality. I had been giving her a hard time when I asked when she thought we might have the chance to fly a starship, and she had immediately replied with: “When did you think you’d be flying a Genogerian fighter?” My mouth closed faster than it had a right to.

  “It won’t be easy.” She hesitated. “The Iron Sides is considered a battleship, useful for battles in space, in planetary air, or in support of ground incursions. The armor, the defense mechanisms, the offensive capabilities can hardly be rivaled. The Genogerians, by comparison, have two newer destroyers and an older generation starship. The starship, in her day, would rival just about anything any enemy could throw against it; that’s not quite the case anymore, though her capabilities cannot be ignored by us or by those she finds herself going up against. The destroyers are (now this is compared to the Iron Sides) much lighter. They are much nimbler when gravitational pulls are a factor.”

  Tallow sheepishly began to raise his hand.

  “If we find ourselves close to a large planetary boundary or perhaps within an atmosphere, the destroyers will have more maneuverability than the battleship, but Breeson is no fool. He will know this as well, and never allow that advantage to be used against him.”

  “The fighters though, we have bunches of those.” Tallow seemed pleased he had found what he thought was our saving grace.

  “You want to tell him?” Cedar asked me.

  “There’s four hundred and ninety-seven fighters here,” I started.

  Tallow whistled at the magnitude.

  “And the Iron Sides alone has over a thousand.”

  Tallow gulped.

  “And it is highly unlikely she will be alone in this war, as we have declared it upon nearly everything else out there,” Cedar added helpfully.

  “I liked our chances more when Graylon was speaking.” Tallow looked dejected.

  “Do not fret,” Lendor said as he placed a hand upon Tallow’s shoulder. “You are mighty Dystancians. You have defeated Klondikes and Hillians, befriended Brutons and Comanchokees; all is not lost…until it is.”

  “That mostly makes sense,” Tallow told him.

  Porter was threading his way through the throng that was moving quickly for the exits. The imminent departure had most wanting to finalize their preparations.

  “How are your spirits?” he asked. It was easy to see he was truly concerned and not just making conversation.

  “We’re ready,” Cedar spoke for the group, even smacking Tallow’s shoulder so he would look up from the floor.

  “We will be on the Traverse.”

  I looked over to Cedar as Porter spoke the words; of the three ships, this was the one she said was the most vulnerable.

  “That is the safest place,” Porter assured us. “The ship will be behind our vanguard.”

  “We won’t be in the thick of it?” Cedar asked, clearly perturbed.

  Porter looked baffled for a moment. “Until we know ‘what the thick of it’ looks like, that is the wisest decision. Once the high council realizes who we have aboard the ship, it is likely they will change their minds about placing ships in the sky. In the meantime, it is imperative that you stay alive to make sure that becomes a reality.”

  “So now what, we’re just props? Something to be displayed? Something to incite a revolution?” Cedar was full-on angry.

  “Exactly. I am glad that you comprehend the intention behind this,” Porter replied.

  “I don’t think you’re comprehending it, Porter. She’s not on board with this,” Serrot said. “It might be better for you to retreat before she goes off.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “And you don’t need to. I’m helping you here.” Serrot urged the Geno to leave.

  “There’s something I don’t understand.” I was thinking. “Graylon is great at inciting his unit, but he never said where we’re going.”

  “Not Earth?” Tallow asked.

  “No.” Now I had Cedar thinking. “That wouldn’t make sense. There’s nobody there yet to fight.”

  “He’s going to strike a target that forces the Genogerians,” Lendor said.

  “We’re listening,” Tallow said.

  “He destroys something the Others have…a small base or maybe a ship. No matter how much the Genogerian High Council says they had nothing to do with it, the Others won’t believe them. They’ll be forced to jump in to defend themselves from retaliation.

  “Forcing allies? I don’t like it,” I said.

  “There may not be another way,” Cedar said. “And honestly, I don’t care what it takes to put all of our enemies to rest. I’m going to grab my things.” And with that, she headed out; we quickly followed.

  12

  The Traverse

  We hadn’t been on the Traverse for more than an hour when the Imminent Arrival warning sounded; this was immediately followed by the message to prepare for a buckle.

  Cedar was pouring through manuals, as she always did while we were in the buckle, but the moment we pulled free from the strange mode of travel, she said she was going to seek Porter and was out the door. I went with her. He ended up being on the bridge; we got a few glances as we walked in, but the crew quickly got back to what they were doing and paid us no more attention. Porter was manning a station off to the side. A Genogerian I’d not seen before sat upon the commander’s chair.

  “Porter, where are the destroyers?” Cedar asked.

  “They are not here,” was his terse reply.

  “I can see that; where are they?”

  “You two are allowed on my bridge, but disturbing my personnel while you are here is not allowed,” the commander said.

  “Then, I’ll ask you.” Cedar approached him. I was astonished with my sister; she had absolutely no fear. “Where are the Lyman and the Arundel?” she asked, referring to the destroyers.

  “That is no concern of yours.”
<
br />   “Wrong answer,” I mumbled.

  “This war is our war, too. What happens to you, happens to us as well. I think we have as much right to know what is going as anyone.”

  He regarded her for a moment. I thought he was going to motion for some guards to remove her from the bridge and have her detained. Instead, he surprised me.

  “I am Commander Kabon, and you are correct. Porter, send the feed to the viewing screen.”

  It only took a moment until we saw Graylon’s ship, the Arundel, engaged in battle. They were above a world that did not look familiar. Cedar told me that the ship under fire was the Others’ version of a frigate. The Arundel must have caught it off-guard as the human ship was ablaze in a half-dozen locations, every opening venting material out into open space. Fighters buzzed all around the larger ship. The view switched to the Lyman’s feed as the destroyer came in and started sweeping the much smaller ships away like a person will a mosquito. I swallowed loudly with how easily the ship I had just learned how to fly was being defeated.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said. Cedar was watching the screen. Moving closer to it, in fact.

  “You are watching the vastly superior Genogerian forces destroy the Others,” the commander said triumphantly.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Cedar dismissed him. “Get them out of there.” There was no alarm in her voice, just conviction.

  “Without finishing the job? Do you Humans not have the stomach for this? Perhaps you should go back to your room.”

  “Don’t ever speak to me like that. I have no problem with dispatching an enemy that stands between me and my freedom or threatens my family and friends, but something there isn’t right. Get them out now—I’m telling you, it’s a trap.”

  She cut off the commander before he could speak.

  “Before you start with the whole propaganda about how great you are, that ship, those fighters, they’re ancient, and I don’t think they’re manned.”

  “Why would they do that?” Levant asked.

  “To set a trap. Get them out of there!” Now there was a rising sense of dread in her voice as she figured the jaws of the trap were poised to spring.

  “Graylon will not do it.”

  “Do you outrank him?” she asked.

  “It is not quite as rigid in the Genogerian forces as in the Human ranks,” Porter informed us.

  “Lie,” I said. “Tell him you have spotted three battleships coming from the other side of the planet. He will surely not stand to fight a battle he cannot win.”

  Kabon had stood. He looked to the screen, really studied it, then at Cedar and me. “Tell them, Porter, tell them that three Human battle-class ships are even now approaching and that they must leave.”

  Porter did as he was ordered.

  “Commander.” Graylon showed on the screen. “My scans show no such approach.”

  “I have known you for more years than scars I have on my body,” Kabon said.

  Graylon bowed his head to this saying, “And I you.”

  “Leave the area immediately, Graylon.”

  Graylon tensed but again nodded. The next few seconds were chaotic. We were watching the feed from the Lyman, the trailing ship. The Arundel had moved quickly and in the blink of an eye with its buckle drive spun up, it winked out of the picture just as a green column of light nearly as large as the ship itself flowed up from the planet’s surface. Fingers of splintered light shot off the main bolt, destroying what remained of the fighters and the frigate. There were none of us aboard the Traverse that didn’t believe that beam would have utterly destroyed the Arundel; what would have been left would have fit in the bowl I’d used for my last meal. The feed was lost as the Lyman wisely joined her sister ship before the weapon could be aimed at her.

  It wasn’t long before Graylon’s stern face showed up on the same view screen. He would have been hard-pressed to miss the looks of astonishment on our faces, yet he pressed with his own anger.

  “I was destroying them, Commander! They were no match for my might and still I show no signs of the battleships you used as an excuse to warn me off. Have you suddenly gone soft for our enemy? Do you wish to back away from this challenge? To sit safely with the high council upon their thrones?”

  Kabon growled.

  Porter quickly interjected. “Graylon, Winter and Cedar just saved your life and those of your crew.”

  “Winter and Cedar? I was removed from attacking Humans by Humans? Does that not seem suspicious?”

  Porter rolled the recording of the mysterious green energy beam.

  Graylon watched it four more times before looking at us. “My apologies.” And then he ended the communication.

  “At least he was grateful,” Cedar said. She had a book in one hand and lunch in the other. “Hope that’s not a new ship weapon.” She then proceeded to take a big bite of food. All eyes turned to her as she chewed thoroughly and deliberately. “Sorry,” was muffled around the food in her mouth. “I’m hungry,” she said when she’d swallowed more. “What? Why is everyone looking at me?”

  “Why are you concerned about the weapon being mounted on a ship?” Kabon asked.

  “Seriously? Weren’t you guys watching the same thing I was?”

  “Maybe just explain it,” I prompted.

  Her widened mouth hovered over her food as she prepared to eat more. “Will you let me eat in peace if I do?” I nodded.

  “When whatever that was, it blew up from the surface in a straight column, headed right for the Arundel, then, when it seemed to detect that there were other targets in the area, smaller beams fractured from the main part and sought out those new targets. Everything that was out there in the general area of that thing was obliterated. That, more than anything, proves it was a trap.” She seemed content with her answer as she once again took a bite bigger than she should have been able to.

  She held a hand up, chewed for a few moments. “Srop rooking at me,” she managed to say. “Ohmigod. I’m never going to be able to eat in peace! Winter noticed it first…you tell them.”

  “Umm.” I wasn’t quite sure how to start. Can’t say I was overly thrilled with the attention I was receiving. “It was what the fighters were doing, or not doing, I guess, that made me suspicious. They weren’t dodging or evading; they seemed to be flying on autopilot in preprogrammed sequences. Nobody flying would do what they were, and that was my first thought: that they weren’t being flown by people. And if that was the case, why weren’t they? Why sacrifice so much machinery?”

  “To set a trap.” Kabon was thinking on her words.

  “To set a trap,” I echoed.

  “A few moments later and this rebellion would have been crippled. We would have lost a ship we can ill-afford to and a leader of Genogerians; that would have set us back considerably.”

  It had been seven days since Graylon’s attack. We weren’t doing anything. Okay, that’s not right. Lendor, Serrot, Tallow, Cedar and I were constantly doing weapons training. The ship was equipped with a rifle range, and at times we even went through our hand to hand combat skills, though how this might work on a Stryver, I wasn’t confident. When we weren’t doing that, Cedar and I were out in the fighters, training, or having the Geno technicians retrofit the fighters so they were more our size and we could stop feeling like small children using adult tools. Other than that, nothing. The three ships were floating out in space, not going anywhere, and as far as I knew, not waiting for anybody.

  “What are we doing here?” I was staring up at the ceiling, lying on the oversized bed in the room I’d been assigned. Cedar, even though she also had her own room, spent the majority of her free time with me. She was currently sitting on the bed with her back against the wall, her nose buried in a book.

  “Shhh. Marigold is spying on her sister Francesca.”

  “Why is she spying?” I really didn’t want to know, but I was bored, and bothering her seemed about the only fun thing to do at the moment.

  Sh
e let the book drop to look at me. “You really want to know?”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s not very definitive.”

  “I’m on ‘pins and needles,’ as you say.”

  “Fine. Marigold is in love with Edward and Francesca knows it. Francesca, being the older sister and more beautiful, according to those around her, has decided she wishes to crush her sister’s spirit.”

  “Why ever would she want to do that?” I had flopped over, so I was on my stomach, propping my head up with my arms. I even batted my eyes for effect.

  “See, you sound sincere enough, but when you say it like that, I’m not so sure.”

  “Tell me. I’ll be good.”

  “Secretly, Francesca knows how much more beautiful Marigold is, both on the inside and the outside, so she wishes to do everything in her power to ruin her.”

  “That’s horrible! How could she be so cruel to her sister?”

  “She is childish and insecure and knows no better ways to cope with her world. I believe her to be much like you.”

  I was taken aback for a moment before I reached to my side, grabbed a pillow, and smacked her on the side of the head.

  “That’s what I’m saying!” She wrenched the pillow from my hands and proceeded to beat me into submission. I had my hands outstretched and was begging for mercy when Porter strode in.

  “I rang the bell but no one answered. Is this a bad time? Do you wish me to come back later?”

  I ran to him and hid behind his back. “Save me, Porter! She’s a savage!”

  “Oh, that’s real grown-up of you. Go and hide behind the first giant being you come across. So like you, Winter.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. Cedar tossed the pillow; it caught Porter square in the snout.

  “Truly, I can come back at another time.”

  “It’s alright, she was just telling me some lame story.”

  “I will cut you,” Cedar said. “What can we help you with?” she directed to our guest, though, technically, she was my guest as well.