Free Bird Rising

by Ian J. Malone

  “Any clue on how we plan to get out of this mess?” Smitty asked. “From the sound of it, these Krulig bastards rule the roost around here, and Colonel Van Zant screwed them hard. Even if we were to take up arms against the Rukori—and I’m not suggesting we do—I’d wager there’s no way the Krulig will deal with us.”

  Taylor chewed his lip. “One thing at a time, Smitty. One thing at a time.”

  “My sincerest apologies, Chief Van Zant, but I must cut our time here short,” Valawn said as he rushed back into the room. “My soldiers and I have urgent business in Nyo Colony that cannot be delayed.”

  “What’s going on?” Billy asked.

  “One of our cell contacts has reached out to us with some critical information,” Valawn said. “I must meet with her at once.”

  Taylor considered before posing his next question. “How can we help?”

  Billy all but jumped out of his seat.

  “I couldn’t possibly,” Valawn said.

  “It’s done.” Taylor rose to his feet. “Now tell me what you need.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 10: Out of the Badlands

  “You sure you wanna do this?” Billy asked on their way out of the briefing room.

  Part of Taylor wanted to be honest and say no, that the whole idea of everything he’d just heard scared the hell out of him. But he knew better. “Terry was here, Billy. That much is clear. All these years, my family thought the Science Guild was at fault for the Bogrider’s accident. If Terry turned on these Krulig as Valawn suggests, then that changes everything. Either way, I’ve gotta follow this rabbit hole to see where it goes.”

  Billy gave a reluctant nod as the group re-entered the hangar. “I’ll make the arrangements with Quint, then meet you back here for launch.”

  “Sounds good,” Taylor said. “Do me a favor and have Paul tag along. By the sound of it, things up top ain’t so grand for livin’ conditions, and there could be folks in need of medical assistance. I’d like to offer them whatever we can.”

  “Paul’s never dealt with Rukori anatomy,” Billy said.

  “No, but Terry’s doc had,” Taylor said. “Have Paul check the Osyrys’s med directory to see what he can find.”

  “Ayew,” the XO said.

  Taylor turned to Smitty. “Me, Billy, and Paul are gonna take this mission. I need you to hang back and oversee repairs while Quint works astrometrics to find us a way out of here.”

  The Aussie arched a blonde eyebrow. “You sure? By the sound of things, you gents could use a hand.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Taylor said. “Quint, on the other hand, is gonna need all the time he can get at his post. Believe me. You’re a bigger help to the crew down here than topside.”

  “You’re the Chief.” Smitty tipped a half salute, then trotted after Billy as Valawn emerged through the bay door.

  “Interesting fellow, your XO,” the Rukori said. “He’s not what I expected.”

  Taylor faced his host. “What exactly is it that you know?”

  “I understand enough about Captain Dawson’s split from the Eagles to know he’s the last one I’d have expected to see here today, wearing your colors.” Valawn’s expression turned rueful. “It tore your brother up, you know, the way he and Dawson ended things. It was the biggest regret of Terry’s life.”

  Taylor grunted and pocketed his hands. “He told you about that, huh?”

  “Over quite a bit of River City Blond, yes.” One of Valawn’s corporals motioned him over. “Excuse me for a moment, Chief.”

  Taylor nodded, and the alien took his leave.

  “Hey Chief, you got a minute?” a voice called.

  Taylor turned to see Frank crossing the hangar floor with Keeto in tow. “Hey, boys. What’s up?”

  Frank looked around before speaking. “While you and the others were up there talking to the Rukori CO, I took the opportunity to dig through the Osyrys’s nav system to figure out what happened after our stargate transition from Earth.”

  Taylor shared Valawn’s story about the Vergola Council, the stolen Behemoth nav data, and Terry’s mission to download that information into the Eagles’ new flagship.

  “That’s how we ended up here at Rukoria,” Taylor concluded.

  Frank swallowed and kept his voice low. “With respect to our alien friend, sir, what Keeto and I found goes way beyond one hidden world.”

  Taylor cocked his head.

  “Frank and I found dozens,” Keeto said, “maybe even hundreds of worlds in the Osyrys’s archives that, as far as we know, no one in the Union has ever heard of.”

  “And all of these worlds show up in our nav atlas?” Taylor asked.

  “They’re in the system, but not in the atlas,” Keeto said. “The information for these worlds is stored on a standalone ghost drive, which is isolated from the main nav computer. That’s why we’re just now finding it.”

  “Clearly, the colonel’s engineers wanted to keep this info a secret,” Frank said, “as they should’ve. If they’d dropped this data straight into the Osyrys’s nav atlas, it’s likely the Cartography Guild would’ve learned about it and taken action. By keeping the data isolated on a ghost drive, the crew could keep it free of prying eyes but still accessible when they needed it.”

  Keeto scratched his head with a pincer. “I should apologize, Chief. My team must’ve triggered the drive during our pre-launch inspections. When we engaged the hyperspatial generator, the ghost drive interfaced with our nav computer and overrode Sakall to bring us here instead.”

  Taylor considered the implications of what he’d just heard. “Well hot damn, fellas, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. It sounds like Swamp Eagle Security just hit the fargin jackpot for future contracts.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Frank frowned. “Our shiny new jackpot may or may not have a shiny new grenade attached to it.”

  Taylor furrowed his eyebrows.

  “What my feathery colleague here means to say,” Keeto added, “is that there is no end to the number of parties who would seek to acquire this information. Once word gets out that the Eagles have access to these worlds, people will come for us, be they rival mercs, pirates, and most especially the Cartography Guild. We must be prepared for that when we transition home.”

  Thoughts of Terry’s accident flooded back into Taylor’s mind like a tidal wave. Is this what got you killed?

  “Hey Chief, I need a signature over here,” one of the engineers said from the jetway.

  Taylor stayed the woman with a finger. “Thanks for the update, guys. Y’all keep diggin’ and let me know what you find. Just keep this on the quiet. Senior staff only.”

  “You got it, boss.” Frank fired off a salute, then hurried off with Keeto.

  “Chief Van Zant,” Valawn called from a nearby lift. He was joined there by Sergeant Douron and the corporal he’d been speaking with. “We can depart whenever you’re ready.”

  * * *

  Once topside, Valawn led the group three blocks south through the city to where they were supposed to pick up a ground transport that would take them on their journey.

  Up close, Taylor found the devastation even more striking than he had from the air. There was seemingly no end to it. He shook his head as he thought about what the district had looked like in its heyday, or the number of occupants who’d called it home. What a loss.

  Eventually, the group halted outside of an abandoned warehouse, which hosted two vehicles under covers in the forward bay. Long and rectangular, with scarred metal frames and roller balls underneath for motion, they reminded Taylor of the flatbed cargo haulers he’d seen running about Jax Startown. He sniffed the air. “Does this thing run on fossil fuels?”

  “The Krulig seize most of the power we generate, so we make do with what we can. Here.” Valawn handed each Human a set of work clothes. “Put these on over your uniforms, lest you stand out in the crowd.”

  Taylor inspected the garments before pulling them on. “How l
ong until we reach this Nyo Colony place?”

  “It’ll take us roughly ninety minutes after leaving the district to clear the badlands,” Valawn said. “After that, we’ll head north into the mountains then exit into the piedmont on the other side by the colony. Total transit time is about four hours.”

  “Seems like a lot of bobbing and weaving,” Billy said. “Isn’t there a more direct route?”

  “The run through the mountains can be quite treacherous for those who don’t know the terrain,” Douron said. “That’s how we keep the Krulig from tracking us back to the Sanctuary.”

  Smart. Taylor boarded the hauler’s back bench seat with Billy and Paul, while Valawn, Douron, and the corporal named Retay took the seats up front. A minute later, the hauler’s engines glugged to life, and they were off.

  “So,” Taylor said once they’d cleared the mountains, “who’s this Sand Flower person we’re goin’ to meet?”

  “Flower of the Sands,” Valawn corrected over his shoulder. “That’s her handle for comm purposes. Her real name is Kalil Padona. She serves as centress over all of Nyo Colony.”

  Taylor took the term ‘centress’ to mean some sort of governor. “She sounds pretty important.”

  “She is,” Valawn said. “In addition to her status as one of the foremost officials in the region, she’s also one of our oldest tenured cell members.”

  “I guess that makes her pretty integral to your movement,” Taylor said.

  “Indeed,” Valawn said. “I’ve known Kalil since the birth of the Rukori Freedom Corps. She’s the antithesis of a risk-taker. This tells me that whatever she’s called us there to say, it’s important. Were she to be discovered, the Krulig’s minions would almost certainly have her executed.”

  “Yeah, about those minions,” Billy added. “Do the Krulig still outsource their garrison work to Humans? If so, that could get complicated.”

  Valawn shook his head. “No. To the best of our knowledge, the Krulig haven’t contracted with another Earth outfit since the Eagles.”

  “Did they find out about Terry?” Taylor asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Valawn said. “If the Krulig did learn of Terry’s duality while under their employ, they never spoke of it to any of our contacts.”

  “Who do they contract with then, if not Humans?” Paul asked.

  Douron snorted, his long, white dreadlocks fluttering in the wind. “A nasty race of four-legged monsters, that’s who. Hairy little beasts that also walk on two legs.”

  “They arrived on Rukoria just after the Eagles left and immediately began wreaking havoc on the population,” Valawn said. “They’ve served as the Krulig’s right hands ever since.”

  “These four-legged monsters got a name?” Billy asked.

  Douron growled another curse. “The Zuul.”

  Taylor traded uneasy looks with Billy.

  “Well, now we know why we were facing off against Maki warships earlier,” the latter said. “The Zuul have used them for years.”

  “That’s not all we know,” Paul added. “We know an Athal engineer who’s gonna be pissed as hell when we get back to the Osyrys.”

  Taylor frowned under his hood. Ain’t that the truth? “You said a while back that the Krulig can’t track you through the mountains.”

  Valawn nodded.

  “What’s to stop them from sendin’ the Zuul straight into the badlands to search for you?” Taylor asked. “I mean, were I in charge, I’d think a ruined city would be tops on my list of places to look for an RFC installation.”

  “Oh, rest assured, Chief Van Zant,” Valawn said, “we get more than our fair share of Zuul search parties in the badlands. Thankfully, our cities are vast, thus giving us plenty of space to hide.”

  “It helps that the Zuul never bring Rukori to flesh out their numbers,” Douron added.

  Billy looked up. “Why not?”

  “Radiation levels in the districts were dangerously high, and in most instances fatal after the Cleansing,” Valawn said. “That led most Rukori to avoid them at all costs. In the years since, those levels have returned to normal. However, the Krulig have gone to great lengths to keep that information from my people.”

  “I’ll bet they have,” Paul said. “Rule number one for managing an occupation: keep your subjects confined in tight spaces. It makes them easier to manage.”

  “Exactly,” Valawn said.

  The group talked for a while longer as the hauler made its way through the mountains and down into the piedmont, at one point passing a sizable mesa to the west that looked oddly out of place. Not long afterward, the Nyo Colony skyline appeared on the horizon.

  In stark contrast to the metropolitan hulk Taylor had left behind, the compound ahead looked more like a decaying prison camp than a colony. Spanning six square miles, the compound was comprised of around eighty structures, all clustered into a sort of loose grid with dirt paths separating each row. Some of the buildings were small, ramshackle huts made of wood and stone. Others were taller structures made of deep-scarred steel, most likely used for storage or cargo. There was also a twelve-foot-tall fence that framed the entire complex.

  Old quarantine zones. That’s how Valawn had described these installations earlier.

  Now, Taylor understood why.

  “Please, gentlemen. Let me do the talking.” Valawn motioned Retay to slow their approach when a security checkpoint came into view.

  The corporal did as ordered, slowing the hauler’s speed then halting it at the fence.

  “Credentials,” said a Rukori male in a black uniform.

  Valawn reached into his tunic and came back with a set of papers, which he handed over.

  “State your business,” the Rukori guard said.

  “My crew and I hail from the mining operation outside of Bartahl Colony,” Valawn said. “Our foreman deployed us here to fetch supplies for our dig.”

  A rustling sound inside the checkpoint station caused Taylor to peek out from under his cowl.

  Short, squat, and grotesquely muscular, the Zuul guard bounded out on all fours and cleared the space between them in three even strides. There, the alien rose onto its haunches beside its Rukori counterpart and sniffed the air.

  Stay cool, T. Taylor retreated under his hood as a mild breeze kissed his skin. You’re downwind for now, so just stay cool.

  “What’s the expected duration of your stay?” the Rukori guard asked.

  “Only a day,” Valawn said. “Our people require us back first thing on the morrow.”

  The Rukori perused their documents, while the Zuul aimed its furry nostrils skyward.

  C’mon, c’mon. Let’s go!

  The former returned the papers. “Very good, then. Be sure you stick to that schedule. Move along.”

  Valawn conveyed their thanks and tucked away their credentials.

  Once Retay had moved them through the gate, Taylor quickly observed just how far the Krulig’s reach over Valawn’s people went. There were Zuul everywhere, be it the guards at the gates or those inside, patrolling the streets. They were all armed, too, a fact clearly not lost on the locals, most of whom seemed content to keep their distance.

  Speakin’ of locals. Taylor searched his surroundings, spotting only a few. “Where is everybody?”

  “At home, most likely,” Valawn grumbled. “The next tribute ceremony is less than two weeks away. There are preparations to be made.”

  “Tribute?” Taylor leaned left as Retay steered them onto a side road.

  “Yes,” Valawn said flatly. “Each season, the residents of every colony meet in their respective town squares to pay homage to our Krulig masters with a bounty of gifts.”

  “Why do they need gifts?” Billy asked. “I thought these guys took what they wanted.”

  “Oh, rest assured, Captain,” Valawn said. “What isn’t taken in tribute is taken by force. By complying with the pageantry, however, my people at least stand a chance of keeping what they need rather than having to beg
for it later.”

  Douron grunted. “And these thugs have the audacity to call themselves our benefactors.”

  Taylor was beginning to understand his brother’s motives for getting involved with these people. It was then that he got his first glimpse of Rukoria’s elusive overlords.

  Tall and menacing, the Krulig sported a stocky humanoid frame under its black-armored uniform, but with the features of a reptilian species. Its skin, which shone dark green in the sun, was covered in scales, while its head, round and bald, carried adult-male dimensions with spiked horns and deep-set crimson eyes. The alien turned on its boot heels and stared at the oncoming hauler.

  “He doesn’t look friendly at all,” Paul noted.

  “No, Doc, he does not,” Billy agreed.

  Taylor ducked his head, mindful to cover his face, as the hauler zoomed past the Krulig en route to their destination, an aging shack on the outskirts of town.

  “I’ll take the hauler to the refueling depot and top off the tank then load up on supplies,” Retay said once the craft had come to a stop. “Any requests?”

  Taylor hopped off with the others.

  “Our water recyclers are running dangerously low on filtration fluid,” Valawn said. “Make sure you get two extra containers of that, plus extra fynar seed for our hydroponics bay.”

  “Understood.” Retay waited for them to step clear, then eased on the accelerator and rolled out of sight.

  “Gettin’ supplies after all, huh?” Taylor asked.

  “Just because we’re here on mission doesn’t mean we can’t take advantage of the time,” Valawn said. “Besides, if we return to the gate without supplies after telling the guard that’s our objective, it’ll cause problems.”

  Taylor stood aside while Billy and Douron headed inside to clear the shack.

  “Excuse me, Commander Valawn, but what’s that over there?” Paul pointed to a group of buildings outside the fence between the colony and the mesa they’d seen coming in. Unlike the structures of Nyo, however, which had seen better days, these structures were far more modern, boasting round corners, smooth steel, and fresh pavement all around. They were also extremely well-guarded.