Battlegroup Vega

by Anders Raynor

  She ran to the library, found a mnemonic imprint device, inserted the data stick into the designated slot, and put on the helmet. As the information stored on the stick was downloaded into her hippocampus, images flashed before her eyes. Strange buildings, cities, primitive machines, incomprehensible events, marching armies, human leaders engaged in passionate speeches…

  Once the download was complete, Riley took off the helmet and leaned against a wall. She felt lightheaded, having adsorbed more information than she could process.

  So it’s true… I’m human.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about this revelation. Such feelings were new to her, as she had a broader range of emotions than before. It wasn’t just new emotions; it was the intensity.

  The stick contained not only data on the history of mankind, but also intriguing information on the experiments by a certain Dr. Darus. Riley’s scientific knowledge was limited, but she broadly understood the implications of that research.

  With this newly acquired knowledge came a sudden realization. The Taar’kuun will exterminate us. We’re a threat to the very existence of their Galactic State.

  She ran out of the library and toward the landing pad where the captured dropship was. She stopped only to grab a protective suit and put on a helmet with a polarized visor.

  The dropship was about to take off when she reached the landing pad. “Wait!” she yelled, waving her hands above her head. The craft remained stationary, and she jumped on board.

  “I’m a security officer,” she said, panting. “I can be useful to the war effort.”

  The female leading the expedition smiled at her. As most people at this stage of retroforming, she looked more Taar’kuun than human, and scales covered most of her head. Yet her brown eyes expressed human emotions.

  “Welcome, warrior. Are you the one who captured this dropship?”

  Riley returned her smile. “It was a collective effort. Many died to secure victory.”

  “I’m Adisa. What’s your human name? Have you chosen one?”

  Riley shook her head. “Not yet. I’m still processing the fact that I’m human, not a Taar’kuun afflicted with a fatal disease.”

  “Understandable. I’ll help you choosing a name, if you wish. Let’s start with the surname. How do you see yourself? What are your goals in life?”

  “You said it—I’m a warrior. I want to use my skills to protect people.”

  “Close your eyes and think about the history of mankind. What’s the first image that comes to your mind?”

  Riley followed that advice. “I see… I see a knight on a white horse. He’s wearing full plate armor and is armed with a lance. But I understand I’m a female, and there were no female knights.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The social rules of our ancestors don’t have to apply to us.”

  “So it’s decided. I’m Lance. Riley Lance.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at the squat buildings of the camp that quickly moved away. The sun had set, and the desert was plunged into darkness, pierced only by the camp’s lights.

  “Do you know how many people joined you?” she asked Adisa.

  “Only about three hundred. We could’ve taken a hundred more, but most people were reluctant to follow me. They must think I’m fleeing from the fight.”

  “They’ve made a huge mistake,” Riley said darkly. “There won’t be a second trip.”

  Adisa gave her a sharp look. “I have that premonition too.”

  As in response to their thoughts, a ray of light flashed in the sky, illuminating the desert, as if the sun had returned for a fugitive instant.

  Horrified, they watched as a ball of plasma consumed the internment camp. The thundering sound of the explosion hit them a second later. The dropship quaked, its flight destabilized by the shockwave.

  A blazing mushroom rose toward the dark sky. The camp was no more; only a crater remained in its place. Nothing could survive an orbital strike.

  “It’s only the beginning, isn’t it?” Riley barely recognized her own voice. It sounded weak and hoarse to her ears.

  Adisa was too dismayed to speak. She simply nodded and turned away.

  * * *

  The crescent of Deneb Algenubi D’s lonely moon ascended above the horizon. Riley was sitting on a cliff, her feet dangling above the abyss.

  She’d been fighting alongside the rebels for two months now. Multan had organized an effective resistance movement, and it was growing, spreading across the entire planet. The Taar’kuun had considered Deneb a failure, as its bioforming had to be aborted in its early stages. The planet was too hot and dry to harbor life, and radiation levels were high.

  TGS officials didn’t want to fight for such an inhospitable piece of rock, while there were many other worlds to colonize. They withdrew their troops, probably thinking that the planet should be left to the humans. However, several million Taar’kuun called Deneb home, and they were not willing to leave peacefully. They still controlled all the major cities and industrial facilities, and they wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  “Go get some sleep,” a male voice behind her said. “We’re setting off at dawn.”

  Riley turned to her comrade. “I know. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I couldn’t sleep either.” He sat next to her and stared into the abyss beneath their feet.

  “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? You’ve been fighting for how long now?”

  “Over four months.” The moonlight reflected on the rebel’s dark-blue scales. “Multan is a great leader. I would follow him into the pit of hell, if he asked me to.”

  “Are you willing to obey his orders, no matter what he tells you to do?”

  The rebel nodded with determination. “Yes, I am. In a fight, we cannot hesitate and question the orders of our superiors. We need clear hierarchical structures. Our survival as a species depends on our ability to form functional combat units, and do whatever it takes to win.”

  * * *

  The column of armored vehicles departed early in the morning. The rebels had set up an underground factory where they produced mechanical vehicles, as growing tissues for biosynthetic ones would take too long. Riley was riding in a tank, primitive and slow by Taar’kuun standards as it relied on tracks for locomotion, but it had decent firepower, with its heavy 120-mm blaster cannon mounted on the turret and two 12-mm rapid-fire blasters for anti-infantry support.

  The murky wall of a dust storm was catching up with the column, as the rebels expected. They hoped it would hide them from Biozi satellites and surveillance probes. Riley felt the tank shuddering as the storm engulfed it.

  The column rode in silence for two hours, the only sounds being the whirring of the electric engines and the howl of the wind sweeping across the rocky desert.

  When the storm passed and the sky cleared, the target of the rebel assault appeared in the distance. It was a town, not particularly big, but of strategic importance due to its location.

  Multan was overseeing the op, although he wasn’t physically present. He stayed at the base and relied on the information provided by troops and recon drones.

  “Lieutenant Lance, you’re coordinating the assault,” he said on the encrypted op channel.

  “I’ll do my best. I’m used to bionic weapon systems, but I can manage cybernetics, no problem,” she replied. “I’m connected and ready to go.”

  “Excellent. You’re clear to engage.”

  Riley focused the cam of her tank on an anti-aircraft structure towering above the domes of the town. “Rhino Alpha and Bravo, priority target designated,” she told the assault group. “Guns on maximum power, maximum penetration. Fire!”

  The heavy guns thundered, and their bolts punched holes in the carapace of the tower.

  “Switch to explosive mode,” she called. “Fire at will.”

  The cannons unleashed another salvo, and the tower disintegrated in a blaze. Huge chunks of smoldering biosynthetic material rained down
on the civilian buildings below.

  Riley examined the 3D map of the town. Recon probes transmitted locations of enemy guns. “Falcon Alpha, take down painted targets,” she ordered.

  The four gunships that constituted the group codenamed Falcon Alpha swooped down on the defense structures and shot air-to-ground rockets. Columns of black smoke rose from the town, stark against the blinding sky.

  “Well done, falcons,” Riley said. “Looks like we achieved total surprise. I don’t see any Biozi tanks on the map. We roll in before the bugs call for reinforcements. Rhino Alpha and Bravo, full speed. Engage targets of opportunity.”

  The engine roared, and the tanks thrust forward, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. Sporadic fire came from the town, but the armor of the tanks made of blaster-resistant nanoalloy was doing its job, and the assault group didn’t take any losses.

  The rebels smashed through enemy defenses and rolled into the devastated town.

  Riley saw a juvenile Taar’kuun running on the roof of a building. Surprisingly, he was running toward the tanks, not away from them.

  “Take him out,” Multan said.

  “What?” Riley gasped. “It’s just a kid.”

  “Fire!” Multan shouted. “Take him out, now!”

  Riley froze, staring at the little Taar’kuun. The image of the knight on his white horse flashed through her mind.

  The kid jumped on the turret of the tank at point and yelled, “Khaada’soolkaad!”

  The holy war!

  A blast ripped through the tank, lifting the turret several meters into the air. A wave of fire engulfed Riley’s vehicle.

  “Back full throttle!” she yelled.

  Her tank rammed into a dome, moving backward at full speed.

  “Eliminate all hostiles,” Multan shouted. “That’s an order, lieutenant!”

  “Set all unidentified life signs to hostile,” Riley instructed. The map lit up with dozens of red dots. “Weapons free. Fire, fire!”

  The tank spun around, both rapid-fire blasters rattling. The red dots died one after another, but there was a high concentration of them in the building across the street. The gunner set the cannon on inferno mode and fired a shot.

  The ground quaked. The explosion reduced the building to blazing rubble. Everything inside had been instantly incinerated. The map was now clear of red dots.

  “Hold your fire,” Riley shouted.

  She opened the hatch. Clouds of smoke veiled the sky. Underneath, there was nothing but rubble. Building roofs had collapsed, and a raging inferno was devouring what remained of the walls.

  Then she made out the charred corpses of Taar’kuun civilians, dozens of them.

  “You made the right call, Lance,” Multan said. “I know it’s tough, but war doesn’t obey the rules of chivalry. We cannot avoid collateral damage.”

  A few months ago, I lived side by side with those beings. I was willing to give my life to protect them. And now I’m slaughtering them.

  “What happened to us?” Riley breathed.

  “War,” Multan replied. “War happened to us. Pull yourself together, lieutenant. It’s just the beginning.”

  24

  Troublemaker

  The humans took Deneb from the Taar’kuun, and the world joined the Alliance. Riley enrolled into the ASF with the rank of second lieutenant and was assigned to the Remembrance.

  That ship became her home. She seldom left it, so absorbed by her military career she neglected her personal life. After the fall of the human worlds, she felt a crushing emptiness inside her, a black hole that nothing could fill. As Jason resigned from the ASF, Captain Hunt promoted her to commander and named her the ship’s XO. This long-awaited promotion was a meager silver lining, given the context.

  Riley sought refuge in her work, studying tirelessly, trying to come up with new tactics against the Biozi. Her efforts paid off when Battlegroup Vega was ambushed and had to fight its way out. Hunt ordered the ships to the planet’s atmosphere, a bold move knowing how difficult it was to navigate through an electrical storm. However, that was the only way to escape.

  Three enemy destroyers pursued the Remembrance through the storm. Missiles wouldn’t work, and cyber-assisted targeting was impossible. Riley coordinated the fire of the Remembrance’s two ACB turrets and managed to disable the thrusters of enemy bioships, forcing them to break pursuit.

  Having escaped the trap, Battlegroup Vega rejoined the main ASF fleet on its journey toward Neo. The next day, President DeCourt summoned Riley to his office.

  Surprised at first, she obeyed without asking a single question, and took a shuttle from the Remembrance to the Capitol. When she arrived, the president was engaged in a heated discussion with Admiral Winsley.

  Riley snapped a salute and stood at attention. “Commander Lance reporting, sirs.”

  “At ease, commander,” Winsley said. “Do you know Israr Multan?”

  Riley jerked a nod. “Yes, sir. I served under his command during the uprising on Deneb Algenubi D.”

  “What do you think of him?” DeCourt asked.

  “People under his command respected him,” she replied. “He was a charismatic leader and a competent strategist.”

  DeCourt frowned. “Was? Don’t you know he’s still alive?”

  Riley raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not abreast of what’s happening in the civilian fleet. I only know that Multan isn’t serving in the military.”

  DeCourt made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Never mind. The point is, he’s causing trouble, sowing discord, and we can’t afford that.”

  “If I may, sir, why don’t you arrest him?” Riley asked.

  “It’s not that simple,” DeCourt replied. “He didn’t break any laws. Not yet. The Alliance is a democracy; we don’t arrest people simply because they express their views. Nonetheless, what he preaches borders on sedition. His popularity grows rapidly, and if he gets his way, he’ll split the fleet. He spins some mystical nonsense persuading people to journey to Earth instead of Neo.”

  Riley gaped at the president, struggling to process this information.

  Winsley scoffed. “I know, it’s hard to believe our people would give credit to such nonsense. But many are desperate. They need hope, something to cling on to. Multan’s taking advantage of that. He pretends he had a prophetic vision in the desert on Deneb, that God talked to him and showed him Earth. He gained enough followers to convince several ship captains to join him on the pilgrimage he’s planning.”

  “But Earth is surely occupied by the Biozi,” Riley pointed out. “Besides, the Biozi keep the location of Earth secret. We wouldn’t be able to get there even if we wanted to.”

  “Multan pretends that God revealed to him the location of Earth,” DeCourt said. “He tried to convince Dr. Darus to join him, probably because Darus is the only one who actually knows where Earth is.”

  Winsley smirked and rocked his head. “The very idea that our top scientist would join a bunch of religious loonies is ludicrous. Darus would never do that willingly, but those nutjobs could abduct him. That’s what worries us.”

  DeCourt stared Riley in the eyes. “We need to handle Multan, before the situation escalates.”

  She drew a nervous breath. “Sir, may I ask you what you mean by handle?”

  “I mean neutralize him politically,” DeCourt clarified. “Discredit him. You know him personally, commander. Gain his trust, infiltrate his organization, and bring us proof that he’s nothing but an opportunist. Do that for the Alliance, and your career will receive a significant boost.”

  DeCourt gave Winsley a meaningful glance, then his piercing eyes returned to Riley. “Do we have an understanding, officer?”

  * * *

  Saying that Riley found her mission unsettling would be an understatement. The very idea of spying on her former CO went against her principles. On the other hand, she knew from experience that Multan could be ruthless. Besides, he wasn’t an officer of the Allianc
e, so what DeCourt ordered her to do wasn’t technically a betrayal. Still, it felt pretty much the same.

  As a shuttle was taking her back to the Remembrance, she was trying to think of a way to approach Multan. I can’t just show up on his ship and say, “Hey, buddy! Remember me? I’m your old pal from the resistance. Look at me, now I’m a model ASF officer.”

  She returned to her quarters, activated her cyber-terminal, and pulled all the info on Multan stored in Alliance databanks. She watched his speeches and press conferences where he described his alleged mystical experiences. He seemed sincere in his beliefs, but Riley had no way of verifying that.

  After a couple of hours, she decided to take a break and shower to freshen up and clear her head. All showers on the ship were communal.

  As she entered the female section of the washroom, she saw Ensign Kumara holding a transdermal syringe. Kumara glanced at Riley and put it quickly into her locker.

  “What was that, stims?” Riley asked sternly.

  Kumara’s eyes widened in fear. She was a short dark-skinned female with a tilak, a red dot painted on her forehead. She was younger than Riley by a couple of years.

  “No, just for headache,” she mumbled.

  Riley strode to the locker. “You know I can’t just close my eyes on a flagrant violation of ASF regulations. As the ship’s XO, it’s my duty to enforce the rules. Give me the syringe.”

  Kumara quickly closed the locker door and gave a terrified look to her superior. “It’s a one-time thing, I swear. I’ve tried to pass the navigation exam three times already; I can’t fail again. I just need a boost to keep going, that’s all.”

  “You do know that neuro-stimulants are prohibited for a reason,” Riley snapped. “They cause addiction and mess up your cognitive functions. I’ll put you on report.”

  Kumara’s forehead creased in an expression of anguish. “Please, don’t do that to me. You’ll destroy my career. I’ve been stuck in the role of defense officer for two years, but I know I can do more for the Alliance. I just need a little boost. Not everyone is a born pilot like Blaze.”