Shattered Alliance

by Benjamin Wallace

  “That’s the royal guard,” Angel informed him.

  Their motions were captivating, almost artistic as they moved together in a tapestry of flowing robes and stinging ornamental lances. The blood of their enemies washed over the polished stone, and it was as valiant a last stand as any species could hope for.

  Cason pushed away from the railing and focused on his own mission. Angel was still guiding him, and the more she learned about the palace, the quicker her instructions came. Every hallway looked the same. White floors. White walls. Statues and busts of Shandoran figures everywhere. She made no apologies for wrong turns and barked order after order until he found the entrance to the tower.

  There were no guards on the way up. There were none at the door.

  “This can’t be it.”

  “This is it,” Angel said.

  “There would be someone here.”

  “Their planet is dying,” she said. “They’ve abandoned their posts. Keep going.”

  She was right more often than not, so Cason raced up the stairs until his progress was stopped by an iron-banded door.

  “I can hear three people inside,” Angel said. “Their respiratory pattern suggests human.”

  “Three? What about the others?”

  “I can hear only three.”

  Cason tried the door and found it unlocked. He pushed the heavy door open with his shoulder and prepared to fire on any guards inside.

  20

  Antarius stood at the cell window, watching the war for Shandor rage below him. The Accuser had beaten his body blue, black and a sickening shade of yellowish-green that reminded him of a disgusting casserole his aunt used to make him eat, but the bruises could not change the color of his spirit, and right now it was seeing red. “It doesn’t seem fair, Stendak. They’re having a war without us.”

  “This won’t end here,” his first officer said with sadness in her voice. “An empire this cruel won’t be sated with a single world. They will settle for nothing less than all of the known worlds. This evil will cast its shadow of darkness over the Alliance. This war is coming for us all.”

  “Well, duh, Stendak,” Antarius said, and left her alone at the window.

  The tower door creaked open, and Thurgood prepared a lungful of air for whoever came through. He’d had enough of playing nice and was ready to let fly a string of insults that would shame any kind of alien. He didn’t care who they killed at this point. They had pushed him that far—and also because Reynolds was the only ensign left and the man was starting to get on his nerves.

  He was going to start with a remark about the mother, but the insult stumbled in his throat when he recognized his father’s head of security. “Cason?”

  Stendak looked at him with surprise and spun to face the new arrival. “Mr. Maze?”

  “‘Mr. Maze?’” Antarius asked with a laugh. “You’re giving him way too much respect.”

  “Who the hell is this guy?” Reynolds asked as he got to his feet.

  “This is my father’s head of security,” Thurgood explained. “His name is Cason, sometimes Kay and always unwelcome.”

  Cason ignored him as always. The man never listened. Instead he rushed to the cell and started working on the lock like some kind of hero. “It’s just the three of you?” he asked. “What happened to the rest?”

  Antarius stepped aside and gestured to the floor of the cell. The bodies of Ingman, Konditti, Johnson and the rest were laid next to one another because Stendak had insisted that leaving them where they fell was disrespectful. “I don’t know what to tell you, Cason. These people are monsters.”

  Cason stopped working on the lock. “They killed them all?”

  “Yep,” Antarius nodded. “They’re bastards, Cason. And I’m going to make them pay for the deaths of Johnson, Ingman…” Antarius turned and looked at the row of bodies. He pointed to the young woman and turned to Stendak. “Novak, right?”

  “Oh, shut your damn hole.” Reynolds raced to the cell bars and started begging Cason like a whiny little child. “Get us out of here.”

  It was just like Reynolds to whine. Antarius put one hand on the man’s shoulder and pulled him off the bars. “We don’t need his help.”

  “Like hell we don’t,” Reynolds said, and slapped his hand away. “Can’t you see what’s happening out there?”

  “I admire your spirit, Reynolds,” Antarius said as he stared at his hand. “But I can’t believe you would strike an officer.”

  Cason wasn’t as concerned with the complete collapse of the command structure as he should be and returned to working on the lock. The security man went to work on the archaic lock with a small touch that produced blue and white electric arcs. Antarius tried not to look, but the colors were just so damn pretty.

  The lock popped open and the hypnotic effect of the sparks ended. Thurgood shook off the daze. “I can’t believe my father sent you. Again. It’s like he doesn’t think I can take care of myself.”

  “You are in a prison tower cell on a backwater planet that is currently under siege by an unknown enemy civilization,” Stendak said.

  “Right,” Antarius agreed. “I’ve totally got this.”

  Cason swung the door open and Reynolds raced through it like a captain-striking coward. Stendak followed him. Cason waved for Antarius to follow. “C’mon, Anti.”

  Antarius stood his ground. He could find his own way out of the cell and off the planet. Well, he could have if Cason hadn’t ruined the lock. Now it would look like he had help, no matter what. Cason ruined everything.

  “Fine,” Thurgood said, and stepped through the cell door. “But just so you know, I had a plan, Cason. I didn’t need your help.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t, Anti,” Cason said. “But your dad is my boss, so do me a favor and make me look good, would you?”

  Thurgood examined Maze. He had known his father’s head of security for most of his life. If he was being honest, Maze was a good man who excelled at his job and did so with a humility that Antarius admired but would never be foolish enough to emulate. But as a rival for his father’s respect, he thought the man was a big, smelly jerk. “He doesn’t think I can do this on my own.”

  “I’m sure he does. He just wants you home safely. Now, can we go?” Cason turned and opened the door to the stairs that would lead them to safety.

  Everyone was surprised. Cason, Antarius and most of all the five Shandoran guards on the other side of the door. From the looks on their faces, they didn’t expect the door to be opening on its own at all.

  Before anyone could react, Antarius sprang into action. He crouched and then dove, spearing the guard in his midsection and driving him off balance and back into the other four.

  Everything was going well until that point. However, the force he was able to generate was much more than the five guards could withstand, and all six of them went toppling down the stairs.

  There was little strategy to this situation. Antarius’s only thought was to stay on top of the pile and surf the guards as they rolled and twisted down the tower’s long spiral staircase.

  By the time they finally reached the bottom, four of the five guards were unconscious—or possibly dead. The last one was struggling to draw his weapon.

  Thurgood’s right put him under, and he had just enough time to strike a triumphant pose before Cason and the others reached the bottom of the staircase. He folded his arms across his chest and boomed, “As you can see, Cason, I don’t need your help to get home safely.”

  Cason nodded his approval at the pile of aliens, drew his gun and fired two rounds.

  Antarius felt each one buzz by his ears. He spun around and watched as two more guards dropped to the ground, clutching at bleeding wounds in their chests.

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “Fine,” Antarius said. “We’ll let it be your rescue then.”

  Cason pointed to the pile of aliens. “Get their guns. We’re going to need more than just me shooting back
.”

  It wasn’t a terrible idea, so Antarius complied. He pulled a blaster off a guard and ensured that it was loaded before tossing it to Stendak. He tossed a second to Reynolds, but made sure it landed just out of the man’s reach and smiled when the ensign bobbled it and looked like a goober.

  Reynolds finally dropped it and sneered. “Won’t you grow up?”

  Antarius grabbed another pistol for himself and stood gallantly. “Let’s do this.”

  Cason led them back through the halls and corridors. Antarius allowed this since he knew Maze was taking direction from the monitor in his ear. He and the others followed until they reached a plaza that overlooked the ground floor of the palace several stories down. There was the sound of battle below, so he walked to the railing and risked a glance over.

  “Stendak, look. It’s the bare-boobed ladies.”

  Several stories below, that jerk king’s royal guard was whipping the crap out of the Rox Tolgath’s men.

  “And they are kicking some serious ass,” Thurgood said. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this and tried to figure out a way they could both lose.

  The women were surrounded by fallen soldiers but the enemy wasn’t giving up that easily. Another wave raced in to face the fierce ends of the royal guards’ polearms. Explosions rocked the halls and marred the ancient stonework. But the palace guard fought on.

  One Shandoran struck the barrel of a large rifle as the invader pulled the trigger, sending a rocket straight up into the air. Thurgood stumbled back as the floor in front of him exploded and disappeared.

  Cason was moving too fast and tried to stop as the ground fell away. He teetered for a moment before Stendak reached out to steady him. She didn’t let go until he backed safely away from the fall.

  “Dammit,” Reynolds shouted as he stared at the fallen path in front of them. “Why can’t any of this be easy?”

  “All right, Cason,” Antarius said. “This is your rescue. So, what’s the plan now?”

  Cason stared over the edge. It was too far to jump. “We’ll find another way.”

  “Okay,” Antarius said. “But I want everyone to know that in my plan, the floor was still here.”

  Cason waved the group back and they started to retrace their steps. That computer in his ear was calling out all kinds of information. You could see on the security man’s face that his attention was divided between leading the rescue and listening to instructions.

  Thankfully for Cason, the fighting in the palace kept the attention off their escape. What few Shandorans they did encounter in the hallways were more concerned about joining the battle or fleeing the fight and paid the prisoners little mind.

  A quiet egress was looking possible until they ended up back at the balcony. Antarius was about to lay into Cason’s poor planning skills when he spotted the man in black armor directing a new wave of soldiers into the battle.

  The Lictor didn’t see him at first. He was at the far end of the opposite side of the floor and waved a group of soldiers over the railing. These men obeyed and leapt over the railing into the open space beyond.

  As they leapt, descent lines fired from the armor on their backs and grappled onto the railing. Motorized brakes in their suits slowed their descent and the troops landed in the middle of the firefight below.

  Antarius put out his arms and stopped the group in their tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” Cason asked.

  “It’s him,” he said with an iciness he knew wasn’t well suited for his boisterous tone, but he felt it was appropriate nonetheless.

  The Lictor looked up and saw Antarius. He knew he did. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes but Antarius just knew he’d seen him. And he knew the bastard was smiling behind that grotesque helmet.

  “Him who?” Cason asked.

  “I don’t know,” the captain responded. “But he knows who he is and he’s going to pay.” Antarius launched himself toward the man in black without another word.

  The stygian figure drew a blade and adjusted his stance to intercept the approaching threat.

  Thurgood saw the knife and responded by snatching the bust of a Shandoran historical figure from its pedestal. Antarius had thrown discus in high school, and he called up memory reflexes as he spun and hurled the small statuary at the man. Time slowed down as it always did in situations like these. Normally, he would use the heroic spatial anomaly to come up with a clever quip. He was working on something with “head and shoulders.” He felt it was fitting for the nature of the object he had thrown, but his rage was so blinding that he couldn’t make the wordplay work and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How do you like my bust?”

  The bust struck true and knocked the blade from the invader’s hand. The helmet’s visor looked at the now-empty hand in surprise.

  “That’s right, Mr. Mysterious. No blades. No weird half-people statues. It’s just you and me now. Man to man. Or man to alien. Either way, it’s one on one and I’m going to kick your ass right in the balls!” Antarius closed the distance to his opponent quickly and tackled the armored figure to the ground. Then he shouted, “Ow, that hurt!”

  He pinned the man to the ground and drove a fist into the black visor. He shouted “Ouch” and struck again with another exclamation of pain. “This armor really hurts when you punch it.”

  The man in the armor laughed at his pain.

  Antarius screamed and punched the helmet once more. “God, it just keeps hurting!”

  The man in black smashed Thurgood’s face with a headbutt.

  Antarius leapt off the man and staggered backward, holding his broken nose and busted lip. Blood poured from between his fingers “Gum ouph mere anph might me moo cowmard!”

  The man in the armor rose and drew his sidearm. Like a coward.

  “Moo mbussy!” Antarius shouted.

  The gunfire rang in Antarius’s ears as bullets whizzed by like angry wasps. And he hated wasps. Bees he could understand. They served a purpose. But wasps were just assholes.

  The man in black reeled as the slugs from Cason’s gun crashed into the armor. It took the entire magazine, but the Lictor was driven back against the railing.

  Antarius swept up the sculpture of another Shandoran monarch. He still hadn’t made a head-and-shoulders line work, but he’d developed more options. Bust a move. Heads up. But a life of constant applause told him to always go for the obvious and most literal choice if he didn’t want to be misunderstood, so he shouted. “Met me gib you a mittle head!”

  The others groaned for some reason but he let the statue fly.

  It struck the jerk right in his stupid helmet and sent the man toppling backward over the railing.

  Antarius raced to the railing in hopes of catching the splat.

  The Lictor’s armor was equipped with a descent cable like the others, and fired the arresting line just in time to prevent a fatal stop.

  Antarius smashed the rail with both fists. “Mo fairb!”

  Thurgood turned and searched the pedestals for more statues to throw. There was one more bust left and he was going to crush that gray bastard beneath it.

  “We need to go,” Cason said as he slid a fresh magazine into his gun.

  “Mun second,” Antarius said, and grabbed the statue.

  Stendak pleaded with him. “There’s no time.”

  Cason raced by him, and the others followed his father’s security agent like they always did. Antarius sighed, left the statue unhurled and jogged to catch up.

  A few more turns and they could see sunlight coming in through the exterior door. Cason went first and called for the rest to follow.

  It had been a while since he’d breathed free air. Even now it was difficult with the broken nose. But he took a deep, gurgling breath and looked out over the burning city. “Ugh, it’s eben muglier in ba daylight.”

  Stendak turned and looked at him with sad eyes. “Captain, your poor nose.”

  Finally, some sympathy. “Mit’s fine, Menbak.”<
br />
  She reached out tenderly and put a hand on his neck. This was unlike her, but it felt comforting. He suddenly realized what she was doing but didn’t have time to do anything but curse her alien strength, speed and deviousness.

  She tightened the grip on his neck and grabbed his nose. There was a crack and another gush of blood. He screamed in the manliest way he could and suddenly realized he could breathe freely once more. Relieved, he took in a massive breath. “Ugh. Is it just me or does this place stink more than it used to?”

  “It’s on fire, you ass,” Reynolds said.

  “You listen to me, Reynolds. I’ve had just about enough of your insubordination.”

  “Oh, you have? Well, let me tell you this…” Reynolds looked off in the distance as if he was preparing some dramatic monologue. Well, it wouldn’t work on him. Captains gave monologues. They didn’t take them.

  “Get down!” Reynolds screamed, and it made no sense to Antarius. It was the worst opening line to a monologue ever.

  The rest of the group scrambled.

  Reynolds pointed over Antarius’s shoulder and shouted once more.

  Antarius turned and saw the diving aircraft that had graciously interrupted Reynolds’s stupid monologue. Cannons in the ship’s nose began to spin, and Reynolds tackled the captain to relative safety behind the wall.

  Reynolds screamed in his ear.

  “What are you screaming for?” Antarius said. “You’re the one that tackled me.”

  “He’s been shot,” Stendak said as she raced to the ensign’s side.

  Reynolds had indeed taken several rounds in his leg. He was bleeding a disturbing amount and should have probably tried lying still instead of trying to strangle the captain.

  “Take this.” Cason tossed Stendak a first aid kit and the woman set to work to stop the bleeding.

  “We have to get off this wall,” Cason said. “Can you move?”

  Reynolds just whined in response.

  “Help him, Anti!” Cason shouted. “We have to get off this wall.”

  Antarius stood and examined the man that was cursing his name. It was time to forget all the horrible things Reynolds had said. It was time to forget that the man had struck him twice now. It was time to step up and do what was expected of him. It wasn’t his fault he was born stronger, braver and more handsome than others. He didn’t ask for it. But he never shirked the responsibility of being amazing. He smiled and said, “It’s time to be the captain.”