Ascension

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  ‘So, he owed Zerian some cred, so he had to kill himself?’

  ‘Barbaric, yes.’

  James didn’t respond. Gangs in Galis had done much worse. Quentin continued.

  ‘This attack on our facility is not just an act of war by Zerian on Aegis, it is an act of war on the Defiant. You must retaliate.’

  ‘It is still not certain that it is Zerian. And while I do want to pay Zerian in kind for what they did in the Battle for Nova Zarxa, we simply do not have the intersystem capabilities.’

  ‘So, you will allow more attacks like this to occur?’

  James sighed. ‘We stopped Star Horde. We can defend this planet. Attacks like these are different, sure. Maybe we could stop them – but at what cost? Dedelux stopped many terrorist attacks with his heavy-handed governance. But you know what? He’s dead now. I don’t even know what we did with the body. Oppression doesn’t last forever – even if it is to stop insurgency. So, Mr Wivern, as much as I am sorry for the losses of your employees and my people, and as much as I hope for the swift recovery of my former boss, there is not much else I can do.’

  ‘There is something…’ Quentin began. ‘And it involves doing something that is much overdue.’

  ‘Speak, Mr Wivern. Zonians like to get to the point.’

  Quentin ignored the slight and continued. ‘I am confident that with enough searching, we will be able to find evidence that this was a Zerian attack. The crypto-credit systems leave all traces. We’ll find out if he was a Zerian debtor and if he was, then I can guarantee that we can prove this was a Zerian act of war. Once we have done that, I want to send Danny Marzio, alongside leaders of your choice, to Mars to liaise with the Order and receive permission to declare total war against the Zerian Corporation.’

  James didn’t give an answer. Quentin bid him adieu and signed off. Once the holo-screen had disappeared, Erryn sighed.

  ‘I don’t like him.’

  Yobu restrained a grin. James didn’t think there was anything to grin about.

  

  Danny awoke from his short coma to the news that Zerian was responsible for the attack. True to form, Quentin had linked the pilot to the Zerian credit rings.

  Lynus Quill had been a married man, until his wife took the kids and moved off-world. When he couldn’t pay back his business debts, he was given two repayment options: his family’s life, or his.

  Danny felt he made the virtuous choice.

  Aegis no longer needed an excuse. This was the act of aggression they needed to escalate the conflict. The only step left was grovelling to the Trooper Order, self-styled protectors of humanity, for permission to right wrongs.

  It was a week after the incident and Danny’s stint at the bio-clinic was done. No scars to add to the collection. Krena had slept by his side in the hospital. They didn’t speak until they were back at their apartment in Underbelly Alpha. Once there, she slapped him, kissed him and then cried. He said nothing.

  The day after, he was ordered to get ready to go to Mars. Krena packed their bags in minutes.

  ‘I’m not being left behind this time,’ she said.

  The Defiant were sending their own envoys. Commander Yobu was to represent the Defiant, reportedly to allow for junior officers and leaders to try their hand at filling his role. Nathan, the uppity Trooper that hated Danny, was also to accompany the expedition. Danny suspected that the fool only wished to monitor him – for whatever reason. He still seemed to hold some vendetta against the ex-mob boss.

  The day finally came for the Mars Excursion to leave Nova Zarxa. Krena and Danny arrived at the shipyard. There was no fanfare, despite this being possibly the most important diplomatic event of the Defiants’ history. The revolutionaries that had overthrown a Trooper government were sending diplomats into the lion’s den. Two of said diplomats being court marshalled Troopers themselves. This day was a watershed, which would start the chain of events which would determine the future of the Defiant and the Zonian people. Despite that, there was no pageantry. But that’s what Danny liked. Zonians, for all their bluntness and criminality, were a practical people. No state function was worth balloons. It should be done with minimal fuss and the most efficiency. Even if said function could sink or raise a kingdom.

  Danny and Krena entered the shipyard of Fort Nexus itself. Despite the mission primarily being for Aegis to present evidence to High Command that Zerian were aggressors in a corporate war, the Defiant were dominating it with the arguably much more important goal of cementing good relations between the rebels and the Trooper Order. Nathan glared at Danny as they passed one another. Danny stifled a mischievous grin. He shouldn’t coax the scarred and foolish ex-Trooper too much. They were to share a ship for…Danny didn’t know how long.

  Starship travel was always uncertain. It depended on routes taken, the efficiency of warp-jumps, the capacity and power of the warp-drive, and the sheer cockiness of the pilot. Warp-jumps may seem like teleportation, but it was more like super-speed. So, it was possible to hit a lot of stuff in the way. And there was plenty of space junk, like planets, in the way. It took a skilled and ballsy pilot to steer the way and chart a course.

  With a humph, an olive-skinned lady wearing a black tank-top stood up from a kneeling-squat as she inspected the underside of the starship. It was a medium sized transport. Some missiles and slug-throwers, but nothing of military standard. Danny sure hoped they didn’t run across any pirates.

  Commander Yobu sidled by the lady and they began chatting.

  ‘That must be Erryn Kolheim,’ Danny commented, to himself, but Krena heard.

  Krena grunted irritably before spotting something at the end of the shipyard. ‘And there is the Defiant himself.’

  ‘I better go talk to him.’

  Krena nodded. ‘Make sure you don’t walk into anything, ogling and all.’

  Danny snorted in amusement. Krena didn’t have anything to worry about. Erryn wasn’t blonde. ‘I’ll watch my step.’

  Krena nodded and went off to stow away their luggage. Danny proceeded towards his old employee, James Terrin. He slowed his pace as he saw the Defiant’s companion. Blue skin. Pointy ears. An edal girl.

  So, the rumours are true. The Defiant has been hanging out with xenos.

  Danny’s curiosity was, indeed, piqued.

  ‘Don Marzio,’ James called, giving a quick wave.

  Danny smiled and gave a mock bow.

  ‘Shadow of Galis. How goes it?’

  ‘Hoping things calm down after you all leave. But I doubt it. Two of my highest-ranking commanders leaving the planet isn’t a recipe for stable institutions.’

  ‘No wars here, though, and this diplomatic mission may very well be a war. You want your top men winning it for you.’

  Danny glanced at Re’lien, who was standing politely with a non-telling, neutral smile on her lips. Hands clasped behind her back. She wore a Trooper non-combat uniform. Beret and all.

  Curious.

  ‘This is Re’lien en Xerl. She is the Trooper diplomat sent to monitor the planet.’

  ‘Oh? Why don’t you act as the intermediary, then?’

  ‘Let’s just say that my assignment requires me to stay away from Mars. Don Marzio, is it? You look quite different from the v-flick show portrayal.’

  Danny raised his eyebrow, quizzically. ‘V-flick?’

  ‘Like a holo-screen show but played in your mind. There’s a show called Galis back on Mars. Your gang features in it.’

  ‘Mighty peculiar.’ Danny glanced at James. ‘You heard of it?’

  ‘Re’lien has been telling me. It seems a bit over-dramatic. One episode had you fighting the Rising Sun in hand-to-hand combat.’

  ‘He would have snapped me like a twig,’ Danny laughed, and unsheathed a cigarette. He lit it and asked.

  ‘So, Ms Diplomat, any tips on braving the red world?’

  The smoke from the cigarette permeated the air around them and Re’lien’s neutral contented face seemed to wane. James
glared, and Danny extinguished the cigarette.

  He mentally laughed. Oh, how the roles have reversed.

  ‘I am only a junior diplomat, but if you manage to get an audience with High Protector Winston Mengel himself, be blunt and honest. He’s a good man, from what I know. His interests align with the Defiant, and if Zerian is guilty of what Aegis is accusing them, then he will grant you the war that you desire.’

  ‘I never desire war,’ Danny replied, nonchalantly, itching slightly for a cigarette. He hoped he could smoke on the ship.

  Re’lien bowed her head with a tinge of respect. ‘But wars will happen. So, might as well win them.’

  ‘Excuse me, Defiant…’

  The three of them turned to see Gretswald, the oddball preacher. He was wearing black and blue robes. Despite his previous allegiances to the Council, he had become a devout follower of the more superstitious sects of the Defiant cult. James winced at the man and even Re’lien showed a hint of discomfort, rocking from side to side.

  ‘Defiant, please grant me leave to go to the vestiges of our race’s homeworld, so I can learn more of how my previous masters lied to me.’

  ‘I’m not your boss,’ James snapped. ‘You can do what you want.’

  Gretswald’s face lit up with the joy of a child receiving an early birthday gift. He bowed three times in a row and ran off to the ship, where Danny saw Nathan shooting a hostile glare Danny’s way.

  James shook his head.

  ‘Didn’t have any men like that back in Galis,’ Danny said. ‘You keep outdoing me, James.’

  James smiled, faintly. ‘Different times. You were the boss. Not my place to judge. I’m sure if roles were reversed, you would be doing a better job as Defiant.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’m getting old. Too old for leadership. It’s time for me to be a kid again.’

  ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Time for someone else to take the reins, and like a child, it is time for me to do the killing.’

  ‘We’re an odd bunch, aren’t we, Don?’ James sighed.

  ‘We sure are.’

  “Every man must face their reckoning. I put this into motion when I took this planet by force. But I will not go quietly. The galaxy is changing, and I want to be around to see where it goes.” – Yagveen McIntosh, last warlord of Liberation-II, before annexation by the Trooper Order and end of the Dark Age.

  Chapter 8.

  Crusade

  A sea of stars, peeking out from the blackness. Every star, a system. A family of planets. Many a system, a home. Leri had probably visited at least a few of these stars – and painted them red on behalf of the Xank. For Peron, they meant something different. A sullen joy. Memories of a friend. Memories of adventure, of truth, and of loss. The galaxy, for Peron, was bittersweet, as all things ultimately were. It was a mish-mash of the happy times, contrasting with the darkness. Speckles of white, in the sea of black. And while most of it was black, the white specks made it all worth it.

  Leri’s armada was approaching its first intersystem battle. It was a motley armada. Only six cobbled together ships and two additional captured transports. The Xank were in shambles, yes, but they were still able to put up a fight. Especially against such a rag-tag crew. Peron’s knowledge of military theory was vast. He knew that Leri’s forces did have a chance of taking La’rz, but it wasn’t assured. Many would die. But that wouldn’t stop Leri. He wanted La’rz, and Leri always got what he wanted.

  Peron gazed out into the blackness.

  ‘One more jump,’ he said, idly, to himself.

  ‘And then it begins,’ Leri spoke. Peron, two of his arms crossed behind his back, didn’t show his surprise.

  ‘Hasn’t it already begun, Leri? The rebellion, Zeruit, the defence of your homeworld once again, the countless dead…’

  ‘A prelude.’

  Leri took a space next to Peron by the viewing window. One of their frigates flew into view. It was crafted of red-golden blitz metal and titanium alloy. Blue-fire erupted from its exhausts. It was speckled with holes. Cannons, plasma-flayers, catapults. All manner of ordnance to wreak havoc upon the Xank.

  Would it be enough?

  Leri seemed to read Peron’s mind, but of course, was just coincidence. Peron hoped.

  ‘It will be enough to crack La’rz. It will have to be.’

  ‘Crack La’rz? Is liberation not the goal?’

  Leri didn’t look away from the blackness and his frigate in the distance.

  ‘The goal has and will always be liberation. But people die in war. And more so in revolution. Some are too attached to their chains. But the chains must be broken – even if it means strangling those attached to them.’

  ‘You seem to understand the costs of war.’

  ‘More so than you, Peron. I was born into the body-budget. And my memories…they have allowed me to understand war. What is necessary to win a war.’

  ‘So, if one man stands at the end of all of this...?’

  ‘If he wears our colours, then it will be worth it.’

  Peron nodded. It could have been with respect, fear or thinly veiled disdain.

  Leri examined his metal talon, and asked:

  ‘What do you think, Peron? That is what you are meant to do, is it not?’

  Peron felt like sighing. But that would have been too human an act among a zangorian.

  ‘I do not have the stomach for war. That is why I align myself with a figure such as you. I do not like war, but I understand its necessity. For liberation, for survival…for anything, there will be sacrifice.’

  Leri nodded, slowly. It was a mannerism zangorians and humans had in common. Peron marvelled at how similar both species were, yet so different.

  ‘We are about to make the jump,’ Leri said. ‘Better get behind the lines. You wouldn’t want your stomach to be damaged by the fires of war. That chitin to be marred. Rather stand back, and watch the feathers be singed and blood spray.’

  Peron did not respond. Leri left, and Peron buckled himself into a seat in anticipation for the last warp-jump.

  La’rz would fall. Leri would win. Peron knew that much now. But then why was he so uneasy?

  

  An electric pop. Like a live-wire being unplugged prematurely. A flash of white-blue. And a volley of ordnance. The blackness abated, and was replaced by a hailstorm of shells, missiles, beams and energy pulses.

  Leri’s armada blinked into existence within the orbit of a dark-grey and blue world. Instantaneously, the fleet was met with a hail of plasma blasts and laser-fire. Beams of red heat attempted to chew at their shields, making openings for kinetic shells to pierce their hulls.

  ‘Evasive action!’ the captain of Leri’s flagship shouted. Other ships were following similar orders and the formation broke into a motley 3D mosh-pit of charring hulls and light-shows.

  Xank fighters and ships sallied forth from the planet and charged down Leri’s fleet, firing all manner of weapons. They were met with incinerating laser beams, followed by missiles and shrapnel cannons.

  ‘Press the attack! Test their mettle,’ Leri shouted, pointing towards the viewing-screen with his metal arm. His cape fluttered behind him. Xank ships, far-outnumbering their small fleet, fanned out against them.

  The Xiu swerved, avoiding the brunt of the main attacks. But indicators on the shield console showed that they were still being chewed up by the anti-shield lasers of the Xank vessels.

  ‘Fire with the main gun, then open up with a salvo from the entire fleet,’ Leri commanded, with a flourish of his metal-arm. It was doing the talking as much as his beak.

  A volley passed, sending shockwaves through the vessel. But the Xiu stabilised and took aim.

  ‘Main gun ready!’ a crewman announced.

  ‘Fire!’

  A blue-beam of pure plasma shot out towards the Xank battleship ahead of them. First, the blue energy dissipated off the energy-shield like water on a rocky shore. Then, the translucent casin
g fell, and the battleship burst like a ripe melon. Onboard fires were snuffed out by the vacuum of space, leaving floating debris and charred hulls.

  The Xank volleys faltered as one of their largest ships fell out of the firing line. A second passed. Then another volley came. More direct. The Xank fleet let loose with their ordnance, aiming at the Xiu and the frigates. But only a few projectiles hit. The Xank fleet was mostly made up of battleships and frigates, and a few carriers. Leri’s fleet was made up of two destroyer classes and two frigate classes, with the frigates containing fighters and bombers in the manner of a carrier. Two additional transports held up the rear, awaiting deployment. While this meant that Leri’s fleet lacked firepower, they made up for it with manoeuvrability.

  The next Xank volley missed entirely. Leri couldn’t help but cheer, causing the rest of the crew to follow with war cries and warbles.

  The Xank were strong. Yes. But strength was nothing without finesse. And the Xank lacked the skilled leadership to direct its forces effectively. Leri wouldn’t be surprised if this defending force was leaderless – run by AI protocols.

  Tek’roa, leading the other frigate (the Zun), spoke to Leri through the inter-ship comms.

  ‘Don’t be blinded by hubris, Rii. The Xank may be without direction, but they still have firepower. And once we hit planet-side, there will be a bloodbath.’

  To punctuate his point, one of Leri’s destroyers burst into a fireball of electric energy. The remaining cheers died out. The battle had truly begun.

  ‘Charge their lines! Get too close for them to use their long-range ordnance,’ Tek’roa ordered.

  Leri’s armada surged forward, swerving in all directions to avoid the Xank artillery. Leri’s forces responded to the Xank volleys with their own salvos and gunfire. Ships from both sides were severely damaged. Some got off with hastily fixed holes. Others had to scuttle parts of their ships.

  As Leri’s forces approached, the Xank fleet arrayed against them closed ranks, creating a fleet-sized shield of pulse blasts to keep them from passing through to what must be La’rz command centres on the planet surface below. It was a reasonable tactic. With a force as small as Leri’s they would need to gain control of the most strategic areas to occupy the planet. They couldn’t rely on the brute force necessary to win a purely conventional war.