Freeforce: The Gryphon Saga

by L. E. Horn

  Lianndra felt a small stab of guilt. If only I could have trained another couple of Healers to work with the Darkon, then all five ships would be armed. If we even suspected the Fang would try this, I could have trained them sooner. Even as she thought it, she recognized the opportunity just hadn’t been there. Right after the rebels rescued me, I wasn’t in any shape to do anything. Not for a while.

  Virra summoned an image with a circle representing the cannon. “Our information indicates the ship must be brought within this distance to be in range for the Darkon beam.” Five small dots appeared arrayed around the cannon.

  Lianndra noticed the miniGryph crews react at last, their spikes and feathers stiffening in surprise. It’s too close. I wonder if I can stretch the range farther and still be effective?

  Virra must have sensed the increase in tension within the room because she tried to sound reassuring. “Despite their age, the cloaks on the ships are in excellent condition. You should have no problem making your advance in secret. We are as certain as possible the cannon does not have proximity detectors. It is likely relying on the surrounding Motherships for protection. If they detect you, the Tlok’mk will activate the drone fighters.”

  Mention of drones made Lianndra’s heart accelerate. Her eyes roamed across the massive ships. They look quite reliable as protectors. Ugh.

  “If you are discovered, you have limited options,” Virra went on. “You can try to retreat. However, we cannot risk lowering the shield to get you back. With the shield up, you cannot return to the planet.” She shrugged, looking grim. “If this initiative fails, so will our shield. It will only be a matter of time. If you are unsuccessful, my best recommendation is to flee. Your ships will hold enough supplies to enable you to reach the nearest civilized sector.” The holoimage pulled back to include the planet’s two moons. “If you succeed in destroying the plasma cannon, seek cover behind a moon until we can drop the shield and bring you home.” Virra took a deep breath, fluffing her pale-blue fur. “You are all aware we have friends among the Tlok’mk. We do not know their current status, but I have sent one last message through the secure channel. As a backup to our efforts, I have asked them to disable the drones. I have no way of knowing if this message made it through.” Virra let the silence hang for a moment. “We convene in two hours.”

  Silence followed her comment, most likely brought on by shock, although Lianndra couldn’t tell by looking at the miniGryphon. Just like all professional soldiers, they looked calm and committed. She glanced at the other two Healers. Tara appeared pale and Olive stared at Virra, as if expecting her to continue. I wonder if they’re regretting their decision to join this party? Being part of the ground forces won’t be any picnic either. Her heart constricted. Michael . . .

  The crews rose and turned to leave. After the Gryphon filed out, Tara and Olive met Lianndra’s eyes. Tara gave her a weak smile and Olive nodded. Lianndra experienced a surge of pride. We’ve been through hell and back to get here, she thought. Captured and enslaved, humiliated and beaten, mutated, and pushed into a war. The Fang made us what we are, yet they have no idea what they’ve done. They’ve created their own nemesis. She smiled back at the other two, baring her fangs. And we will take them down.

  EWTK’FISK TOOK A DEEP BREATH AS she and the data tech stepped off the lift. She used her access card to open the single door at the end of the long hallway. The tech followed her into the Blooddance Coliseum.

  Her summons may be sudden and unexpected, but she knew the tech accompanying her did not think it unusual to be called on at a moment’s notice. For Ewtk’fisk, being called into immediate action tested her resolve, especially for such an important reason. She hoped her rebel peers on the other four Motherships were more prepared than her.

  The Coliseum’s emptiness echoed with their footsteps. There hadn’t been a Blooddance for some time, and she imagined she could see dust accumulating on the bare metal floor.

  Ewtk’fisk seldom came to the Coliseum. She claimed to be using the Blooddances’ postponement—she didn’t dare call it cancelation—as an excuse to get maintenance done on the Coliseum’s computer systems. At least, she’d used that excuse for the technician.

  The two walked across the bare floor and headed for the door leading to the Farr’s quarters, which Ewtk’fisk once again opened with her card. Her area of responsibility covered maintenance of all Blooddance systems, including those linking to the Farr.

  Fara and Farr had complementary but individual responsibilities within the Motherships. The responsibilities required minimal crossover from either a communications or a systems standpoint.

  The Blooddance Coliseum computer remained one of the few within the entire Mothership that linked the Fara computer system to the Farr’s, which was necessary to coordinate the dances. Management of the slaves was shared between the sexes. Housing and care were the Fara’s responsibility, whereas the Farr handled the dance schedule.

  Ewtk’fisk escorted the tech to a terminal within a small room. The tech signed on and Ewtk’fisk handed her a datachrys, which contained updates for the Farr Blooddance program.

  It also contains a few unauthorized additions, Ewtk’fisk thought.

  The datachrys took a few moments to download. The tech activated the updates, double-checked them, and removed the datachrys. As Ewtk’fisk followed the tech back into the Coliseum, a shiver passed through her.

  On the other four Motherships, her peers did the same. If we miss just one, all of our efforts will be in vain. She gave silent thanks for the lack of curiosity by her tech. If the young Fara had been more experienced, she might have noticed the datachrys contained more than just a simple update. Once downloaded, a critical part of the datachrys became unusable and irretrievable, covering the rebellion’s tracks.

  As long as the changes made to the programming are not discovered. She shivered once more as she passed under a platform. I wonder if this Coliseum will ever return to use? What changes will result from what we have set in motion? She hadn’t intended to go so far with this. Ending the war would have been enough, but it is not the rebellion that has brought us here, it is the decisions of those who invested in this war. It has brought us to our knees. If our species is to survive, this must not only be stopped. It can never again be allowed to happen.

  Chapter Thirty

  THE SOUNDS OF AN ARMY ECHOED from below. Together, Michael and Karn crawled until they could see the canyon floor. Michael watched with envy as Karn moved on all six of his limbs, his shoulders and hips popping up and down like a stalking cat.

  It’s no wonder these guys can disappear, Michael thought as Karn flattened beside him. I still can’t believe he can crouch like a cat. To top it off, he can probably jump up faster than I can.

  He returned his attention to the canyon, peering between two boulders. Beside him, Karn flattened his long ears back against his head and extended his neck until his large, liquid eyes were level with Michael’s.

  The scouts warned them, and now Michael could see for himself. Anger churned like lava in his gut, and he knew his eyes sparked gold.

  As expected, they had used slaves on the front line. But they weren’t the usual soldier slaves, who were at least trained to fight and use weapons. Those stayed in the army’s middle ranks. Instead, the front line seethed with groups of women.

  Blooddancers. So many. They must have emptied all the Motherships, Michael thought.

  The Tlok’mk armed the female slaves with simple spears, and they walked at least a hundred deep in a dispirited mass right at the front of the army. Untrained in anything but Blooddancing, impressive in its own right but hardly prep for this kind of battle, they were there for the slaughter and must know it. Their sole purpose would be to slow the Gryphon army so the laser cannons could wreak maximum havoc. Their numbers created an effective living wall to protect the army.

  Bastards. Michael’s canines emerged, and he growled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Karn’s ears twitch in r
esponse. His fingers dug into the dirt as he fought the rage. Not yet. Soon. He slithered back from the boulder as Karn rose in a fluid motion from his prone position. They jogged, half-crouching, to Karn’s warriors. The waiting Gryphon formed silhouettes against a sunset the color of blood.

  Kesar’s army took its place a few miles up the canyon. Meanwhile, Karn’s smaller force intended to drop Drake’s team off at their chosen strike site before continuing to the other end.

  When Michael and Karn returned, Drake’s eyes narrowed. “You good, mate?”

  Michael nodded, muttering, “Four,” at Drake as he swung onto Karn’s broad back, carefully avoiding the big Gryph’s spikes which bristled in anger.

  Drake used his rope arrangement to swing onto Roz, and they headed off.

  If this is what the Fang have done with the front lines, then I hate to think of what waits for Karn. Michael’s lips pulled back in a snarl and he turned his face away from Drake. The Gryphon used the frontline activity as a stall tactic. Most hand-to-hand fighting would be where Karn’s warriors would try to trap the Fang army in a pincer strike. Michael knew the slaves’ lives within the army depended on the success of Drake’s crew.

  If we can’t knock out the Fang commanders, he thought, then the Gryphon would have no choice but to win the fight despite the casualty count.

  TARK’TOSK SAT BACK IN HER chair. She viewed her counterpart, an elder on the nearest Mothership, via her desk console. The older Fara’s eyes spun a pale yellow with pleasure.

  “We project the shield’s collapse is imminent. We should achieve our goal within one of Tarin’s days,” the elder said.

  Tark’tosk nodded. “The ground forces are proceeding through the canyon. As planned, the army is primarily composed of slaves, including the human Blooddancers. We have removed as many of our Farr as possible without jeopardizing slave control, and I am gathering them at the central barracks. Once the shield is down, we will rendezvous with the personnel carriers. Victory is certain.” She noticed the elder’s eyes light up. “The Gryphon will pay dearly for their obstinacy in this war. First the plasma cannon will destroy their settlements, then we will pursue every one until their race ceases to exist.”

  The elder expressed her satisfaction with the plan. For a long time after she signed off, Tark’tosk sat and stared at the console. The end neared, but she wondered why she forced the elation she expressed to her superior. Am I worried the humans will formulate something damaging to our chances? This rebellion has shaken me more than I thought. She scratched at loose skin as she tried to reassure herself. This war has taken a toll on us all. Fighting the Gryphon may be an expected struggle, but convincing the Farr command to follow my orders without question has been a constant, wasteful battle. Maybe I am just too tired to appreciate the end is coming.

  THE SUN SET BY THE time Drake’s group reached the first rock-fall site. Michael slid off Karn’s back and turned to clasp the muscular Gryph’s forearm with his own.

  What do you say when you don’t know if you’ll ever see each other again? I guess you pretend it’ll never happen. What is it they say? “Tarrick ruff, my friend.” He gave Karn’s arm a shake.

  The big Gryph snorted and tilted his head, considering Michael’s words. “Bad ground?” He clacked his beak and waggled his ears as Michael winced. Then he seemed to gather himself for a verbal effort. “May your claws be swift”—the Gryphon mouthed the words carefully—“and your spikes sharp.” Karn ruffled his dark-feathered mane, and nodded to Roz, who exchanged farewells with Drake. They wheeled and galloped to take their place at the head of the column of Gryphon warriors.

  A long sentence for the Gryph when he’s minus a translator, Michael thought. The subtle inflection of humor made for a level of sophistication that shouldn’t have surprised him. A corner of his mouth quirked up. Sharp spikes indeed.

  Sixteen Gryphon considered too young to fight remained behind as rapid transit for Drake’s team. The youngsters melted into the scrubby brush. They would shadow Drake’s group until required.

  The touch of humor from Karn helped to reduce Michael’s anger level. He felt a surge of gratitude for his friend. For this plan to work, I must have perfect control over the Beast. Considering how high my adrenaline level is running, it will prove a challenge.

  IN THE GATHERING DARKNESS, DRAKE sorted the climbing ropes at the top of the canyon wall. He crouched to keep his body below the rocks’ silhouette and gestured to the three Healers with a motion of his head. Hannah, Andrea, and Kate all worked with Drake during the Healer rescue and read the captain’s intent. They crawled to the boulder’s edge to survey. The twelve other men, handpicked for their fighting skills, sorted their weapons and secured them to various harnesses on their bodies. They wrapped anything that could rattle with bits of cloth.

  Far below them were the sounds of an army settling in for the night. Michael finished strapping a knife to his thigh and set his black Vertraax sword against a boulder. Then he dropped to the ground and crawled between Andrea and Kate. Kate inclined her head to him and shuffled over to make room. Andrea’s dark eyes flashed in the moonlight as she glanced his way. She gave the tiniest of motions with her chin, pointing into the canyon. On her other side, Drake moved between her and Hannah.

  Firelight combined with the plasma blasts on the planet’s shield flickered red off the canyon. The walls and boulders reflected the light back to the sandy ground and did a good job of revealing the army camped below.

  Zraph were the first thing they saw. The big aliens hunkered down next to the laser cannons. Around them were slave soldiers, many already rolled into their beds close to the fires. Off to one side stood a single Fang commander tent. The army’s campfires dotted the landscape as far as the humans could see.

  They all retreated, and Drake pulled everyone together in the darkness. “We need to move a little farther along since the army hasn’t progressed as fast as we thought. The new slave additions are slowing their progress.”

  They hoisted their gear and jogged along the canyon walls. The Healers, unburdened by weapons, scouted along the rim, peeking over occasionally as they surveyed for their chosen target. The men halted when Andrea raised her hand.

  BINGO. MICHAEL’S HEART RATE INCREASED as he crawled forward and looked down. Protected in the army’s core, multiple tents housed the Fang commanders. On each side, Farr soldiers lounged around the fires. There were fewer slaves here, the army noisier as the Farr radiated confidence and high spirits.

  Too bad we don’t have more than a handful of Healers trained to focus those Darkon powers, Michael thought. One blast right here from those guys would do wonders for the war effort. Of course, one blast might also take out the canyon, us, and everything else for miles around. No one knew how much control the Healers had over the little creatures, especially under battle conditions. Guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way.

  A short scream from below drew his attention to a figure struggling in the grip of a big Fang soldier. It cut off as the Fang bit into the throat of a woman squirming beneath him. It made the rebels aware of other female forms lying lifeless, or almost so, within the circles of Fang. The Farr were taking advantage of their easy access to the undefended Blooddancers.

  Too fast to stop himself, Michael’s mind focused on images of Lianndra with the Fang commander’s teeth buried in her throat. Andrea poked him hard in the ribs as Michael’s growls became a snarl. His control slipped rapidly, and he experienced a surge of panic as he snatched himself back from the wall’s edge. Andrea followed his hasty retreat to a large rock outcropping. From behind, he heard Drake quietly order the other men to uncoil the ropes.

  Michael crouched and leaned back against the cool stone. Breathing hard, he fought a familiar war with himself. A warm hand touched his shoulder, and he looked into Andrea’s eyes.

  “Just breathe.” Andrea breathed with him, moving to crouch in front, a hand on each arm. She locked eyes with him as she coached.

>   The rage rattled within him, crashing against bars threatening to break at any moment. Overhead, the plasma cannon lit the shield with orange light. Andrea kept coaching him, squeezing her hands in rhythm with his breathing as he growled with each breath.

  Physically and mentally shaking, the bars on the cage grew stronger. Andrea must have seen reason return to his eyes because she said, “Welcome back.”

  Michael let his breath out as his head fell back against the stone. “Thanks, Andrea.”

  He noticed Drake watched them. The captain stepped forward to offer him a hand up. “Don’t sink it too deep.” Drake’s voice sounded constricted, as if he also bottled his rage. “We’ll be needing the big bloke soon.”

  Michael grimaced into the darkness. “No problem.” Soon. A deadly promise to the Fang. I’ll be there soon.

  UNDER THE COVER OF NIGHT, KESAR moved his army into position. The old warrior Gryph wore Vertraax scale armor bearing the scars of many battles. A large dent in the breastplate corresponded to an elongated, raised scar on the skin beneath it. The armor was a badge of honor for Kesar, as much a part of him as his own skin.

  The old Gryphon paused in mid-stride, listening to the comm attached to a tufted ear. He cocked his head toward the canyon rim where his scouts ran patrols and reported at regular intervals. Then he wheeled, bringing the front line to a smooth halt. A large group of Gryph rearranged themselves in response to Kesar’s quiet commands. They were muscular males in their prime, fully armed and armored; each carried a well-armed human. They formed a dense column in the army’s core. The humans dismounted, and the Gryph settled themselves on the ground to rest until dawn.