by Sean Robins
“All the intelligence we have gathered says they have not been used for centuries,” said Shartan. “And at any rate, who would have thought the aliens would use such a monstrous weapon on a densely populated civilian target?”
“What happens now?”
“The carbon-based creatures have asked for our unconditional surrender. The High Council has voted to accept their demand. We have lost the war.”
Fartaz’s shell turned a few shades darker. “We cannot! After what they just did to us?”
“What other choice do we have?” Shartan asked glumly. “Do you want them to do what they did to Pandar to the whole planet? We have no defense against their diabolical weapons.”
“Yes we do,” said Fartaz. “We have me. Me. I will make them pay. All of them—the humans, the Xortaags, the Akakies… all the carbon-based aliens will pay for what they did to us.”
Shartan smiled sadly. “Knowing you, I feel bad for the aliens already.”
4
Talmak
Standard Galactic Date: 047.03.5073
(Earth Date: 29/03/2049)
I knew there was something wrong as soon as I saw Tarq’s message asking me to attend an urgent meeting. Those were never good news.
Ella was already in the briefing room, typing something on her tablet, when I entered. “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked her.
Without looking up, she said, “No, but it’s a safe guess it has something to do with our imminent attack on Talmak.”
I’d come to the same conclusion. After Alora, we had liberated three other planets with little resistance from the Xortaags. There was no fleet presence on those three planets, so one theory was they were pulling back their forces in preparation for a major confrontation. This could be it.
“I certainly hope so,” said Venom. “I’m getting really bored in here.”
He was right. Life on a starship sounded fascinating, but it was, in fact, super boring, for the simple reason that there wasn’t much one could do in their spare time, and we had plenty of that. I’d arranged for movie nights which soon turned into a dating scene and became very popular, but it was only once a week. I begged Kurt to play squash with me (I was a tennis player, but there were no tennis courts on Invincible, so squash was the second best thing). Unfortunately, he was rubbish with a racquet, and it wasn’t fun for either of us. Kurt and I got together and watched movies a few times, but that lasted only until Oksana taught him how to play chess. After that, they played whenever they had free time, and Kurt had no time for movies and me.
Yep. Oksana stole my best friend. Those Ukrainian girls!
We had VR battle simulators on board; however, after I’d experienced a few real dogfights, the simulations held no interest for me anymore, and the few times I arranged for competitions, I wiped the floor up with the other fighter pilots who participated. So, boring.
I was so desperate I would’ve welcomed Tarq’s distasteful pranks just to distract myself, but he spent most of his time aboard the Akakie starship, and we had to entertain ourselves with hearing the stories of his masterpieces. Once, while trying to make MICI work remotely (kind of like a short-range MFM), Tarq made everyone aboard Serenity throw up uncontrollably. After that, Kurt threatened him with bullet-in-the-brain sort of consequences, and the little alien stopped messing around.
Kurt, Oksana, and Xornaa, who were aboard Serenity, appeared on the wall-mounted monitors in the briefing room. Xornaa smiled and nodded politely to me, but I completely ignored her, just like I’d done during our last few meetings. Tarq and Barook, aboard the Akakie starship, showed up on another monitor. Tarq wore his simple white suit and was smoking a ridiculously big pipe.
“Is he seriously smoking aboard a spaceship?” whispered Ella.
I shrugged. “That’s Tarq for you. I had to threaten to shoot him to stop him from smoking when he was here, but the Akakies aren’t known for their military discipline, so I guess he can do whatever he wants over there.”
“I am afraid I have bad news,” said Tarq. “Our spy ship has just reported from Talmak’s orbit. The situation on the surface has completely changed. The Xortaags have enlisted the planet’s local population to beef up security, and now there are guards, checkpoints, and fingerprint scanners everywhere. It looks like we will not be able to use our old trick of wearing the Xortaag uniform and waltzing into their cities.”
“Deja vu,” said Kurt.
“It’s a glitch in the Matrix,” I said without missing a beat. “It usually happens when they change something.”
Ella looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
The others didn’t even bother.
“Liz would’ve gotten that reference,” said Venom. I wasn’t the only one who was missing her.
“Isn’t this exactly what happened after Operation Free Earth?” asked Kurt, playing with his goatee.
“It is,” I answered. “Do you think Maada’s ghost has come back and told them what to do?”
Tarq wiggled his middle figure at me. “Do not even joke about it.”
“What do we do now?” asked Oksana.
Tarq puffed on his pipe. “There are eight thousand Deathbringers on the planet, plus almost fifty million Xortaags, now supported by whatever is left of Talmak’s forces and a big chunk of the local population. We could attack and destroy the Xortaag fleet, but there is no way we could kick them off the planet.”
I cursed under my breath. It was disappointing to see our mission cut so short. I’d really set my heart on saving all the people on Xortaag-occupied planets. “So we go back home with our tails between our legs?”
“I did not know humans had tails,” said Barook. “Do you hide it in your pants?”
Tarq ignored him. “We have an option: there is a planet buster aboard.”
I thought it was one of his distasteful jokes. “Are you planning to use the same planet buster Maada used to ambush us?” I asked. Then I looked into his eyes, dead serious, and somehow I just knew he wasn’t kidding.
“How many people are down there?” Kurt asked with a stony expression.
“Besides the Xortaags?” said Tarq. “We estimate there are some eight billion Arshans on the planet.”
I knew the Arshans, Talmak’s indigenous people, were humanoid, only smaller than average humans, kind of like the Hobbits. I stared incredulously at Tarq. “Are we seriously talking about killing eight billion people, plus God knows how many Xortaag women and children?”
Tarq didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Oksana, Ella and I started protesting at the same time. Kurt didn’t join in. He sank back into his seat and tugged at his goatee harder than usual.
Tarq raised his hand to stop us. “The planet is in its final stages of colonization, so there are still no Xortaag children there, and you know all Xortaag women are soldiers, even though at this stage some of them might be pregnant. As for the local population, they are already dead. The planet’s colonization will be complete in less than four of your months, at which point, as you already know, the Xortaags will kill them off using OMC-BOWS.”
When we met Tarq for the first time, he told us how he’d wiped out all the colonists on two Xortaag-occupied planets. We didn’t pay much attention then, with our own species facing extinction. We should have. I rubbed my temples, feeling the onset of a sudden headache. “How many Arshan children?”
Tarq exchanged a look with Barook and shrugged. “We do not know. One or two billion.”
One or two billion kids!
“We are not doing this,” I said firmly, anger creeping into my voice.
“We thought you might object,” said Tarq. “Let me show you something our spy ship has just sent us.”
A holographic image appeared on the briefing room table. It was the aerial view of a city. When the camera moved closer, I realized the city was deserted. It looked like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie: lots of ruined buildings, vehicles left everywhere, everything covered by
greenish vegetation. And many, many decomposing bodies, mostly animals, but some humanoid.
The camera zoomed in on a group of small kids, walking in the middle of a street, probably looking for food or something. They were all white and blond, wearing rags, looking dirty, tired and frightened. Some were injured. A taller girl, who looked slightly older than the rest, was walking in front, leading them on.
“There is a Xortaag city nearby, and all the adults have been relocated to help in construction, so there is no one left to take care of the children,” explained Tarq. “They are dying by the thousands, due to starvation, diseases, or something like this.”
An animal appeared on the screen. It was like a cross between a wolf and a lion, and it had two freaking heads. It charged towards the kids, who scattered, screaming. A small boy lost his balance and fell. The tall girl ran back for him, but the beast was upon them. She knelt in the street, hugged the boy and hid his face on her chest.
The creature tore into them.
I gasped and felt tremors in my hands. Oksana and Ella covered their eyes, and Kurt and I averted ours. Even Xornaa looked away from the screen. All the bloodshed I’d seen in the last few months had thickened my skin; still, a monster devouring small children was too heartbreaking to watch. I’d be running for my Viper if I thought I’d be able to reach the planet in time to save the kids. Instead, all I could do was hang my head and hope those children’s suffering ended as fast as possible.
Our insectoid allies kept staring at the images with interest, showing zero emotions.
I loved Tarq. After everything we’d been through together (fall of Earth, Liz’s death, Operation Royalty, all of it), I’d come to consider him an alien step-brother I never had, not to mention the fact that he’d saved us all. Still, at this particular moment, I couldn’t help wondering what the hell I was doing in here with these freaking soulless insects.
“To clarify, it is not only the kids who are perishing, even though they are the ones suffering the most,” Tarq said casually, as if two small children were not being eaten alive right in front of our eyes. “With the planet’s colonization nearly complete, there is no need for the Xortaags to worry about their slaves’ well-being. Nearly half the planet’s population is already gone, and millions die every single day. We will be putting them out of their misery if we blow up the planet.”
“These people are suffering, and your solution is to kill them all?” I asked, my voice shaking. I wished I could’ve punched him in the face.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” asked Tarq.
“Yes!” I raised my voice, feeling my veins straining against skin. “How about not killing them? Let’s at least try to come up with a way to save the poor bastards.”
Tarq shook his head. “These people are under OMC-BOWS control. They do not want to be saved; they want to die serving their gods. Even if we could put enough Marines on the planet to take it back from the Xortaags, which we obviously cannot, the Arshans would fight us tooth-and-nail to defend them.”
“You are being unreasonable,” Barook chimed in. “All these people will die in a few months, and then the Xortaags can use this fleet to attack Earth or us. We have an opportunity to destroy it with little risk to us.”
“And after that?” asked Oksana, anger flashing in her eyes. “We’ll keep destroying planet after planet until we reach Tangaar?”
“We can use this trick only once,” answered Tarq. “Unlike Operation Royalty, the Xortaag subspace communication center is fully active, so they will figure out what we did and stop us the next time.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I growled. “I’m here to save people, not kill them. I’m not going to participate in massacring children. I call for a vote.”
We had a similar setup to the one back in Winterfell’s Command Center: Tarq had operational authority, but if we disagreed with him, we could ask for a vote, with Tarq’s vote the tiebreaker in case of a tie. Not that it mattered. There was no way a human would vote for this atrocity.
“You sure about that?” asked Venom, whose faith in humanity’s integrity was unshakable.
“Do I get to vote?” Xornaa asked optimistically.
“Over my dead body!” I yelled so loudly the briefing room windowpanes shook. Or at least I thought they did.
“Or yours,” Oksana told her.
Tarq frowned. “Sometimes, there is no reasoning with you humans. OK, let’s vote.”
“I think it is obvious what I vote to do,” said Barook. Alien bros before, well, everyone else.
“I’m with Colonel Harrison,” said Ella, bless her heart.
Oksana was next. “Me, too.”
So it came down to Kurt’s vote, who sank even deeper in his seat, looking at us with sad, sad eyes that right now were even grayer than usual. He looked like a man about to shoot a puppy.
No freaking way!
Kurt spoke very slowly and deliberately, almost word for word. “I vote for Commander Tarq’s plan.”
I blanked, and my world came crashing down on me. My best friend, my brother, the only family I’d left, had just sentenced eight billion people to death. His betrayal cut me. It was like someone poured acid into my soul. I grabbed my seat to stop my hands from trembling and fought to keep myself from throwing up. That Judas!
Oksana and Ella stared at him, speechless.
“Told you so,” Venom gloated.
Shutupshutupshutupshutup!
“Spoken like a true terrorist,” I told Kurt, venom (no, not that one) dripping from my words.
Kurt’s face turned red, and he clenched his fists. He looked so mad I thought he might’ve hit me if we’d been in the same room, like that time I made fun of Allen for using a flash drive as a sex toy.
“You’re a terrible human being,” said Venom.
Kurt stood up and looked me in the eyes. “The hardest choices require the strongest wills.” And then he disappeared from the monitor, probably storming from the room.
Now I was really pissed. Quoting movies was supposed to be my thing. I stood too, my pulse elevated, seeing red. “You can’t force me to butcher two billion children. I step down as the commander of the fleet, and I’m going to confine myself to my quarters.”
Tarq raised an eyebrow. “You would give up your command for some aliens whom, until a few hours ago, you had not even heard of?”
“The path of the righteous man,” I said solemnly.
“Since when do you quote the Bible?” asked Oksana.
“The Bible? This was written on Nick Fury’s gravestone.” I left the briefing room, banging the door hard behind me.
Later that evening, Kurt came to my quarters. I was lying on the bed, drinking beer and pretending to read a book. I’d calmed down, but I still didn’t even bother to get up. I just nodded towards the fridge.
Kurt came back holding a Paulaner. “Since when do you drink Molson Canadian?” he asked.
I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I developed a taste for it after Allen’s wake.”
Kurt sat on a chair in front of me, stared at his feet and avoided eye contact. “He’s right, you know.”
I mumbled a few words, most of which started with F, under my breath.
“Language! And I have to point out—” Cordelia started saying, but I growled, “Privacy mode.” Then I added to Kurt, “I’m in no mood for her wise-ass remarks. Plus, I think the emotionless, heartless, inhuman AI will take your side.”
“Hear me out,” said Kurt. “I understand how you feel. Believe me when I say I do. I once killed one of Zheng’s top henchman in front of his kids—I didn’t know they were there. I had nightmares about it for weeks.”
“Why do I feel there’s a but there?”
“But Tarq is right. The Xortaags will exterminate the Arshans very soon, and there’s nothing we can do to save them. What we can do is to make sure the fleet down there doesn’t participate in destroying another planet and its people.”
I rubbed my forehe
ad. This was unreal. “By killing two billion children?”
“The Xortaags will kill them anyway!”
“Yes, but we shouldn’t.” I finally put the book down and sat up on my bed. “And to be honest, massacring the Xortaags by the millions has gotten under my nerves too.”
That one caught Kurt by surprise. “Seriously? The people who killed seven hundred million humans, including God knows how many kids?”
“They’re trying to save their own people; plus, they can’t all be bad. I bet a lot of them are just normal people trying to live their lives. In fact, let me ask you this: how many Xortaags do we know?”
“Other than Zaart? Two, I guess. Maada and Mushgaana.”
“I’d forgotten about Zaart. Whatever happened to that guy?”
Kurt shrugged. “Probably still on Earth with the rest of the POWs.”
“As for the other two, I’d come to actually respect Maada. Don’t get me wrong. He was a monster and I still hate him, but he was an honorable man in his own way, and his people would’ve happily died for him—”
Kurt interrupted me. “They did die for him. Not sure if they were happy though.”
I continued, “And Mushi. Have you seen the footage of his death?”
“Yeah. He shouted something about meeting his small friend.”
“He was quoting Scarface,” I said. “Know anyone else who might quote movies while staring death in the face?”
Kurt smiled. “You told me you quoted something about people saying goodbye to their balls when you thought you were about to get killed by SCTU goons. Speaking to a woman, I might add.”
“One of the goons happened to be a woman. I did feel guilty about not including her, but what was I supposed to say? Say auf Wiedersehen to your Nazi balls and ovaries? Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is, maybe we should sit down and talk to the Xortaags instead of going around the galaxy killing them by the millions.”
“We’ve been trying to talk to them to at least arrange a POW exchange. They don’t respond.”