Daisy's War

by Scott Baron

  “Just be careful,” Freya said. “You know the Ra’az plant false trails. They love disinformation.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he replied. “Okay, see you guys in a bit.”

  A moment later he blinked from existence, warping far across space to help their Chithiid friends slowly infiltrate their home planet.

  Meanwhile, the human fleet moved closer, readying to jump into the midst of the Ra’az ships, once the saboteurs did their work. Freya, likewise, was prepping to drop her computer virus into the fleet.

  “Now, you say it should take only a few minutes to worm its way into their systems?” Zed confirmed.

  “Well, it’s a theoretical,” Freya replied. “But given what my tests have shown, yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “And we still don’t know which systems it will affect?”

  “Not really, though it does seem to have a preferential infection path targeting their warp drives, so fingers crossed that happens.”

  “Fingers crossed?” Celeste said, shaking her head. “It’s come to that, has it?”

  “A little faith, hon,” Captain Harkaway transmitted from his seat aboard the Váli. “Freya’s a talented kid. It may not do exactly what she planned, but it’s sure as hell going to do something.”

  “So, is that a go?” the young AI asked.

  “That’s a go,” Zed confirmed. “Our craft are all immunized. Go ahead and drop your payload. Just make sure it’s hit every ship in the fleet, then bug out of there and take up a monitoring position to relay what happens.”

  “Will do,” she replied. “Okay, you guys ready?” she asked her crew.

  “Ready as we’ll ever be,” Daisy replied. “Time to spread the love.”

  Freya warped closer to the fleet, then made a conventional powered approach, using her stealthy properties to easily glide among the vessels.

  “Here we go,” she said as she transmitted the virus out to all of the enemy ships, Chithiid and Ra’az alike.

  “Now we wait and see,” Sarah said.

  “Yep. And then we strike.”

  They quickly completed their pass, then sat quietly at the periphery of the fleet, observing, watching, waiting for any sign of the virus taking hold. After five minutes, nothing had happened.

  “You sure you transmitted it?” Sarah asked.

  “You saw me do it,” Freya snapped back, obviously on edge.

  “Hey, I’m just messing with ya, kid. Relax, it’s just taking a little longer than anticipated is all.”

  The rebel Chithiid spread throughout the fleet had received the covert signal that the attack was about to begin any time and to be ready. More than their stealthy friends, they were feeling the anxiety build. But the time was not yet upon them. They had to hold fast.

  Aboard a Ra’az command ship, a lone Chithiid rebel was shackled to the bulkhead, all four arms stretched out wide and held in place by magnetic restraints as the massive Ra’az commander interrogated him through his loyalist interpreter.

  “Who sent you here?” he asked the bloody captive during a momentary pause in his beating.

  “No one sent me. I told you, I am here alone.”

  The loyalist slapped his face, hard. The assembled crew that had been called from their duty stations winced as they watched. Each knew it was entirely possible that they would be the next one taking his place if the Ra’az were not satisfied with the answers he gave.

  As the craft was a Ra’az one, only loyalists and the smallest numbers of Chithiid laborers were allowed aboard. In this instance, those small numbers were both a benefit and a hindrance, as there actually were other rebels hidden among the crew.

  On a larger ship, it would have been far easier to hide themselves among thousands of other Chithiid, but here, now, it was only a matter of time before the Ra’az could sniff them out if they decided the threat was more than just one man.

  “Where did you get this?” the loyalist asked, holding up the rebel’s confiscated pulse rifle.

  “As I have told you countless times, I found it left unattended and took it.”

  “Why would you do such a thing? Were you planning a revolt? With whom were you plotting these acts?”

  “With no one. It was a foolish and impulsive thing I did. I should never have taken it, I realize.”

  The Chithiid loyalist translated for the hulking Ra’az that had been quietly observing the questioning. The enormous alien slowly made his way to the restrained Chithiid and sized him up, silently.

  Then he reached out a massive hand and snapped one of his captive’s arms.

  The rebel cried out in pain before getting himself under control. He knew he was expendable and had made his peace with that fact. All he had to do was hold on long enough for the attack to begin. His task was complete, the warp drive had been sabotaged. What happened to him now was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

  One of the other rebels caught his eye, silently giving him the slightest nod of encouragement. Much as he wanted to grab a weapon and free his comrade, he, too, knew the stakes were much larger than either of them.

  “So, you expect us to believe you are just a lone dissident in our ranks?” the loyalist asked.

  The Chithiid squared his jaw and stood as tall as he could, despite the pain of his broken limb pulling against the chains.

  “I am not the only one who despises your kind,” he spat at the loyalist. “You grovel and serve the very beings who murdered our families and enslaved our people. So your question has two answers, I am afraid. Yes, I am alone, but no, I am not. There will always be Chithiid who will oppose what you have done. What the Ra’az continue to do. And one day, perhaps one day soon, you will be held accountable for your actions and allegiances.”

  What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t know, was that spread out among the hundreds of vessels in the fleet, the rest of his fellow rebels had found themselves overwhelmingly successful in stirring up dissent among the non-cryogenically-frozen Chithiid populating the myriad ships.

  A rebellion was forming within the Ra’az fleet, and many thousands had already committed to the cause, ready to fight to retake their homeworld when the opportunity arose.

  Unfortunately, the chained Chithiid was unaware of the success of his fellow rebels. But even so, he stoically withstood the continued beating from the Ra’az commander and his loyalist lackey.

  “You disappoint me. You have been given a wonderful opportunity to serve your masters well and with honor. Instead you choose to defy them and conspire against them. If you will not speak honestly, then there is no value in your continued existence. You shall be made an example of. A warning to others who would dare oppose the Ra’az.”

  The shackled man slumped ever so slightly at the loyalist’s words. While he knew his life was forfeit, hearing it stated so clearly was a blow nevertheless. He stood tall, determined to end his life as an example, but not the way the Ra’az anticipated.

  He had accepted his fate and was awaiting the killing blow when the lights aboard the ship began to flicker.

  The Ra’az bellowed into his comms, answered only by confused and distorted voices.

  “What have you done?” the loyalist asked, grabbing his captive roughly by the chin. “Tell me what you have done!”

  “I have done nothing,” he replied. “You’ve had me chained up here for over a day. How could I have?”

  The lights began flashing on and off faster, then shut off entirely.

  “Get these lights back on! What has happened to the emergency backup systems?” the loyalist yelled.

  He then let out a different kind of yell. One of surprise as the artificial gravity suddenly went off, sending him, the spectators, and even the Ra’az floating in the air.

  “Guards! Anyone! Do something!”

  The sound of a faint electric click quietly carried through the chamber, and the rebel who had so recently believed himself about to meet his end smiled.

  “That sounded like
the magnetic restraints. Which one of you––”

  The loyalist, unaccustomed to moving about the ship in the dark, was thoroughly disoriented as he floated in the open space. The rebel, drilled and trained by Maarl for just such an eventuality, quickly took advantage of the situation, pushing off, aiming for where he knew his pulse rifle had been lying on the nearby table.

  His hands found the weapon mid-flight as he pivoted his body to gently impact the far wall. He took aim at where he believed his enemies to be, then waited.

  His patience was rewarded when a few moments later the lights flashed on for a moment. It wasn’t long, but it was certainly long enough for him to take aim and blow several holes clean through the Ra’az commander. The loyalist had just enough time to register a look of utter surprise before the lights went out again.

  “Wretched creature! What have you done?”

  The subsequent pulse blast, aimed at where he had been spotted floating in the chamber, ensured his lights were out in a more permanent manner.

  Freya’s worm, it seemed, had been a success.

  Despite his injured arm, the rebel Chithiid quickly began moving toward his next objective. He just hoped one of the others had picked up his slack and taken out the comms unit upon his capture.

  After a long while, the dim red glow of the few emergency lights not tied to the main or reserve power systems filled the ship. It was chaos, and in the panic of the moment, the pesky rebel was completely forgotten, affording him and his handful of compatriots the freedom to move about they so desperately needed.

  The Ra’az tried to send comms to the rest of the fleet. An alert. Something was not right aboard their ship. But the others were experiencing systems failures of their own, and the transmission, even if it had been able to leave the walls of the ship, would have fallen on deaf ears.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Trojan Horse vessels embedded throughout the Ra’az fleet could tell something was wrong with the other ships. Some were experiencing flickering power spikes, others seemed to be jettisoning componentry with no rhyme or reason. The lack of outgoing communications from them was heartening, as it meant their teams––or the virus––had managed to hinder their enemy’s inter-fleet strategizing.

  The time was near, but they had to wait for the signal. For the neophyte soldiers and their equally green pilots, that wait was almost unbearable.

  The Ra’az, for their part, were handling the problems aboard their ships as one would expect of so belligerent a species. Namely, they would shout and rant and eventually beat their loyalist crews until they made things right.

  Though the many dozens of rebel ships now hidden within their nearly thousand-strong fleet were perfectly camouflaged to fit in among the other vessels, mimicking the sudden malfunctions of the other ships was an unexpected visit from Murphy they had not prepared for.

  “What do I do?” a young captain, only promoted to the position earlier that week, asked of command via their secured comms.

  “Is there a problem with your ship?” Maarl asked, having warped in from Taangaar to rejoin the fleet to witness the effects of Freya’s virus first-hand before utilizing it against the Ra’az vessels surrounding his homeworld.

  “Negative, sir. However, we are surrounded by ships that are experiencing varying degrees of systems failures. I fear we will stand out to Ra’az scrutiny if we do not find a way to mimic the other vessels.”

  “Ah, I see your conundrum,” Maarl said. “Stand by.”

  He summoned up Aarvin on comms, his second-in-command apparently expecting his call.

  “I am glad you could join us for this momentous event, Maarl.”

  “Thank you, my friend. I do not wish my presence to interfere with your established chain of command; however, it seems it already has drawn the attention of one of your vessels. They summoned my craft, asking for guidance. The ships around them are experiencing systems failures, and he does not know how to proceed to continue to blend in with them.”

  “That could indeed pose a problem,” Aarvin said. “Tell him to do his best to power up and down non-essential systems. I am afraid that is the best we can do for now.”

  “I shall relay the message,” Maarl said. “And, Aarvin, best of fortune to you in this endeavor.”

  “Thank you, my friend. And the same to you. May your efforts see our homeworld free of the Ra’az once and for all.”

  Maarl switched his comms back and hailed the waiting captain.

  “I have spoken with your mission commander. He suggests powering up and down your non-essential systems in a manner that mimics the other vessels. It may be imperfect, but the disabling of their key ships should occur relatively soon. Once that takes place, a swift victory will be ours.”

  “Very well, sir. Your advice is greatly appreciated.”

  The young captain relayed the message to his crew. All hands were to systematically power their systems up and down, beginning immediately. What he failed to mention was the most important part of that message.

  Only the non-essential systems.

  It was an oversight that would have grave repercussions, the first of which became immediately clear when a member of his gunner team activated their weapon priming sequence while flipping through switches on their console.

  The Ra’az, though preoccupied with the goings-on within their fleet, quickly took note of the Chithiid vessel that suddenly sprouted armed pulse cannons from within.

  Immediately, they ordered their weapons stations to open fire on the craft, not bothering to run even a basic ident verification. There was an invading force hiding among their Chithiid conscripts, they realized, and they wasted no time in targeting any ship even slightly suspect.

  The surprised rebel ship powered their shields to maximum, but the barrage lay waste to a good portion of their weapons systems in the opening salvo. The Ra’az then did something surprisingly clever. Something the rebel forces hadn’t expected.

  They targeted every ship that had been part of that vessel’s recon party. If one was compromised, they simply assumed they all were. In true Ra’az form, they were quite prepared to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of lives and two dozen ships if it meant crushing resistance.

  With a sizable chunk of their rebel ships coming under fire, Aarvin was forced to make a difficult decision. He only hoped his agents aboard the command ships had been successful and managed to complete their missions and transfer back off the sabotaged craft.

  “All ships, we have been discovered. Open fire on the Ra’az vessels, but do not engage the Ra’az-controlled Chithiid craft unless absolutely necessary.”

  At his command, the dozens upon dozens of entrenched ships stopped mimicking the malfunctioning ships, activating their weapons systems, sliding their newly installed cannons into place and opening fire on the larger of the Ra’az ships.

  The brutal aliens realized quite quickly that this was far more than a small rebel attack that had infiltrated a single reconnaissance party. This was big. This was fleet-wide. This was something that could ultimately see the downfall of their command network.

  They quickly began targeting the newly active Chithiid ships, realizing several Ra’az craft were also fighting on the rebels’ side. Worse yet, when ships became damaged and the smaller Ra’az heavy cruisers moved in for the kill, the vulnerable craft simply warped away.

  That in itself would have been bad enough, but moments after their departure, a fully functional human-piloted vessel, armed to the teeth and ready to fight, would warp back in its place.

  It was apparent this was a massively coordinated effort between their conscripts and what appeared to be a surprisingly organized human contingent. The Ra’az leadership had been certain the humans were wiped out centuries prior. The video message that broadcast to them moments later proved them wrong.

  “Ra’az Hok,” Celeste Harkaway said from the bridge of her command ship, Aarvin at her side, translating her message in real-time. “We call on yo
u to surrender. Please have your translators relay this message to your fleet commander.”

  The Ra’az translators did their duty, and the commander sent an immediate message to any of his ships that had functioning comms systems and could hear him.

  “All craft, warp immediately to the next rendezvous coordinates,” the loyalist commander relayed to the fleet, while the Ra’az high command did likewise.

  Only a few dozen craft were able to make the jump, however. It seemed that between sabotage and Freya’s troublesome virus wreaking havoc with their systems, warping away was a difficult option. Still, it was an option for some, and one they desperately needed, so the Ra’az command gave orders to have all hands divert their efforts to repairing the warp systems.

  Celeste remained on-screen, not at all impressed by the Ra’az maneuvers. She simply stood there and waited.

  Moments later, their escaped cohort jumped back to join the fleet, their ships smoldering and crippled from multiple pulse cannon blasts.

  “What happened? Why have you returned?”

  “They were waiting for us, sir. There must have been a hundred ships ready for our arrival.”

  “That is impossible. There is no way they could have followed us through warp.”

  “I agree, sir. Which means somewhere in the fleet, somewhere among our ranks, there is a traitor.”

  The loyalist commander had been through a lot with his masters and knew their reactions well. More than anything, disloyalty to the Ra’az was punished with no mercy. And now there had been a spy within the ranks of their most trusted servants? He only hoped they would find his services too valuable to dispatch of him and his men.

  He relayed the findings to the Ra’az, slightly altering the message so as to shift blame to an unknown spy, rather than someone definitely within the loyalist ranks.

  Freya had been monitoring the whole exchange, of course, and was more than slightly thrilled to see her plan, which was actually Joshua’s plan, succeeding.