by Tim Marquitz
The crew turned on their camo programs and surrounded Rat so she’d benefit from the distortion as they traveled.
Taj regretted that they didn’t have an extra suit of armor for the girl, but she decided to stick close to her and make sure she didn’t get hurt. She didn’t need any more deaths on her conscience.
As quickly as they could, they made their way around the flank of the main push of soldiers. The entire time, she cringed as the artillery moved closer and closer to the rebel tunnels, but before it could reach them, Taj ordered her people to scatter and open up on the troops to draw them off.
“Let’s do this!”
Her people leapt up and unleashed a barrage of fire on the Wyyvans. The shuttles continued their assault, weaving in and out of the falling rain of artillery fire. It amazed her at how well Dent could multitask.
She glanced at him, and he didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by the effort of commanding an armada in a pitched battle in space and a shuttle war down here, and now he had added a fevered gunfight to the mess.
“How’s the Decimator doing?” she asked, although she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.
“Holding its own,” he answered, “but the Wyyvan troop carriers are almost all free of the Gate. They’re trailing behind the main fleet.”
Taj cursed under her breath.
“The two destroyers still protecting the Gate?”
He ducked a blaster bolt and returned fire, killing the Wyyvan who had shot at him. “One joined the rest of the fleet to bolster its numbers. Galforin is holding the carriers back to ensure they aren’t taken out, plus he’s keeping his command ship out of the fight. Either we damaged it worse than we thought earlier, or he simply doesn’t want to put himself at risk.”
“Probably the last,” Taj stated, knowing how cowardly Wyyvan commanders were, having seen it firsthand.
She spent the next several minutes battling it out with the Wyyvan soldiers at range. The shuttles backed them up, decimating the ranks far better than the small-arms fire the Furlorians were throwing at them.
Taj cringed as one of her people was struck by multiple blasts at once. Bel was her name. It popped to mind as she died, and Taj growled low in her throat at the loss. Then another Furlorian died, then another, and for the life of her, Taj couldn’t think of their names right then, her people’s identity hidden behind the armored visors.
“Gack!” Lina howled, spraying the enemy with her automatic energy rifle.
Taj squeezed off shot after shot as the enemy continued to advance, their black armor making the troops look as though there was an army of insects crawling toward the crew.
“Hate to ask this right now, but is this the whole plan?” Cabe inquired, moving up alongside Taj as he lashed out at the encroaching enemy.
It kind of was…
Then she decided it couldn’t be.
“Gack, no!” she shouted in defiance.
She’d been emotionally ready to go out in a blaze of glory and do everything she had to do to stop the Wyyvans from finding and killing the rebels, but that was being defeatist, she realized.
Taj glanced at Rat, watched her for a moment, thrilling at the girl’s ferocity and willingness to fight for a cause she believed in.
Taj couldn’t let her down. She couldn’t let her people down, either.
She wouldn’t let anyone down.
“I have an idea!” she cried out.
“Oh…gack!” Lina muttered. “Duck and cover, folks!”
Chapter Ten
Grand Admiral Galforin slammed his fist on the console in front of his seat.
“Crush them!” he growled. “I want these rodents dead!”
XO Volg called out from his station, “Those creatures are resilient, Admiral. As much as I want to comply with your orders, we are losing troops nearly one for one in the fight, sir. We can’t maintain this pace if we wish to retain the fleet at fighting strength without joining the fight ourselves.”
Galforin shook his head. “I won’t martyr myself to save a few ships, Volg.”
“Of course not,” Volg replied.
Despite his determination to win, he didn’t dare risk the Stormfront. Too much was at stake, and if he lost the dreadnought, his power at home would be nothing, regardless of how much of the Toradium-42 he returned with. The Stormfront was the symbol of his power and control over his forces. To lose it would mean losing everything, and the cowardly sneak attack by the unknown enemy force had already wrought enough damage on the ship.
“Our ground forces,” he asked, shifting gears before being forced to make a decision. “How do they fare?”
XO Volg took a moment to examine the reports. He looked up with a sly grin on his broad lips. “It would appear that the invading force might more accurately be called a farce, Admiral.”
Galforin spun in his seat to face the XO. “What do you mean, Volg?”
“Although the transmission hack is still wreaking havoc, causing sporadic outages in our communications, the current sitrep is that the invaders have crawled out of their holes to meet our soldiers in the open. There appear to be less than forty of them, Admiral.”
“Forty?” Grand Admiral Galforin leapt out of his seat, stomping over to where Volg sat. “That can’t be true.”
“See for yourself,” Volg offered, motioning to the console. The data flowed across it, and Volg highlighted the pertinent information to make it easier for the admiral to examine.
“Most of the damage is being inflicted by their shuttles, which are automated if my readings are correct,” XO Volg explained.
“We’re being assaulted by a cluster of pirates and bots?” Galforin shouted.
“It would appear so, sir,” Volg replied, fingers tapping on the screen in hopes of getting further information.
“How is this even possible?” Galforin asked.
“I believe they have an AI at their disposal. It’s coordinating the attack on at least two fronts if the signals we’ve intercepted are to be believed.”
“Can you block it?” the admiral asked. “Shut it down?”
Volg shook his head. “The encryption is too advanced. We don’t have the time or tools to even attempt it,” he admitted. “We’re able to see the transmission because the source isn’t bothering to hide it. It’s completely confident of its abilities.”
“For good reason, it seems.” Galforin groaned. “Is there nothing that can be done to counter its control?”
“I don’t believe that would be the route to take,” the XO advised.
“Tell me then, Volg, what would you do if you were in charge?”
Galforin bit back a grin. The question was loaded, and he wanted to see how Volg handled it.
“I would, of course, defer to you, Admiral, since I would not be in a position of superiority over you,” the XO stated without hesitation, deftly avoiding the trap. “I would simply advise you to focus on the aspect of the battle most likely to be won.”
“And that would be?”
“The fight on the planet, sir,” Volg told him. “Release more of the Vipers, punish these invaders, and remove their most effective weapons: the shuttle fleet protecting them from above.”
Volg brought up a hazy map that showed the most recent placements of both the enemy and the admiral’s troops. The XO trailed a finger across it.
“Here we have their ground forces,” he explained. “As you can see, they are hardly a threat in numbers, although they definitely have the advantage in ferocity. But that can be turned if we cull their air support. A full contingent of Vipers would eliminate their aerial superiority.”
“Forcing them to retreat on the planet or back to their fleet,” Galforin finish, grinning all the while.
Volg nodded. “As of now, their ships all appear to be automated, just as their shuttles are. They have no flesh in the fight, so they can afford to trade losses with us. There is no collateral damage connected to it.”
Galforin turned
around and glanced at the large view screen in front of his station. He surveyed the enemy fleet as the battle went on, seeing the attrition wearing at his forces.
His soldiers would break. Of that, he was certain.
It was simply a matter of when.
Could he hold them together long enough to win? That was the question.
Volg was right, he realized. There was little chance to win the battle in space while maintaining the morale and composure of his soldiers, but he could win the fight below and turn the tide in his favor.
“Release the Vipers,” he ordered. “All of them. I want those rodents torn apart.”
Volg relayed the order, eyes on his screen the entire time, awaiting a response. He called a moment later, “Vipers away.”
Galforin nodded and returned to his station, dropping into his seat.
“What of the ships they dispatched to block their path?” the admiral asked.
“We’ll lose a few, Admiral,” Volg answered, “but it won’t impact their effectiveness. Those two destroyers are too slow to contain our fighters or do much more than harangue them for a short distance.”
The admiral tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, pleased, eyes locked on the screen as he watched the battle play out.
As much as he believed the XO’s advice would sway the fight his way, he had other concerns.
For whatever reason, the enemy fleet had chosen not to fire directly upon the mining compound on KI1047-32. He didn’t know if it was weakness or simply a blessing to be grateful for, but the enemy’s response to his decision to retreat at the first confrontation had been telling.
Still, there was a chance that the enemy would become desperate when they realized the fight was shifting against them, and Galforin needed to protect his investment.
“Bring us into play subtly,” he ordered his XO. “Maintain distance, but place us where we can intervene should the enemy decide they want to take punitive measures upon the compound before they fall.”
Galforin could feel Volg’s eyes on his back.
“Sir?” the XO asked.
“You heard me, Volg,” he told the commander. “We can remain outside the engagement and at the edge of safe distance from the planet, but we cannot let them destroy all the work we’ve accomplished below. I won’t allow it.”
“Yes, sir,” Volg replied after a second’s hesitation.
Galforin knew the male would do what he was told, but he understood the XO’s hesitation. To get too near the planet with an alien force above was to flirt with death a bit too boldly for either of their tastes.
But in life, all rewards must be weighed against the risks. In this case, Grand Admiral Galforin believed the reward far outweighed the danger he exposed them to.
Regardless, his hands trembled as the XO followed his directive, but he hid them to keep anyone from noticing.
Galforin could give in to his nerves once the enemy was vanquished, not before.
Chapter Eleven
“We’ve got incoming,” Dent called.
Taj followed his eyes to the sky and growled low in her throat. Although they were currently little more than black specks against the pale blue horizon, she knew what was coming.
“Gack it all!” she snarled.
She looked at her people spread out across the field and realized how little protection that distance offered against the mass of Wyyvan fighters screaming their way.
She was glad she’d relayed her orders before they’d arrived, or any chance they had of survival would be nil—not that even perfect execution of her plan offered much hope of better odds. But at least the handful of shuttles she’d sent the back ranks had peeled off before they could be shot down.
“How’s the loading going?” she asked Dent.
He paused for only an instant before replying, and Taj knew he’d been communicating with the bots. “The first two shuttles are loaded and away. A third is almost ready, and the others are in process. Won’t be much longer before they are airborne.”
Taj groaned, despite knowing her complaints would do nothing to speed things up. “We’re gonna need one right away.”
Dent didn’t even bother to reply.
“Spread out, people!” Cabe shouted over the comm. “Make it as hard as possible for these approaching fighters to target you.”
“We could always jump on their backs like Taj did,” Torbon laughed.
“Yeah, because that worked out so well, huh?” Taj asked, recalling how she’d only made it through because of Dent and the shuttle he’d summoned to keep her from becoming a bloody splat on the ravaged terrain.
A few moments later, the Vipers joined the fight. They streaked across the sky and engaged the shuttles without mercy.
Two of the shuttles evaporated in fierce explosions as soon as the Wyyvan fighters made contact.
Dent adjusted then, disengaging them from the ground troops and turning their focus to the fighters. The Wyyvan soldiers pushed forward as soon as the pressure was off.
Taj ducked and darted to the left, dodging the sudden burst of renewed fire that came in their direction. Another of the Furlorians fell, and Rat just managed to slip away from an energy burst that nearly took her head off.
“Stay low, girl,” Taj growled at Rat, despite feeling like a hypocrite.
There were Furlorians as young as Rat in the battle, and several of them had died already.
The only grace Taj could retain regarding the situation was that the Furlorians had come to the planet of their own accord. Sure, they’d followed her, but they had had a choice to come and fight for the planet of their birth.
Rat didn’t have that option.
She’d been dragged to the planet and enslaved, forced to work for masters who didn’t care for her on a planet where she didn’t belong.
For Taj to see Rat die for such an empty cause would be far too bitter a bite of cruel fate for her to take.
Two more Furlorians fell under the barrage and Taj growled, wanting to look away but needing to record their deaths in her mind.
These people can’t be forgotten.
She returned fire, taking out five Wyyvans in trade for the two Furlorian lives, but there was little satisfaction in it.
The enemy outnumbered them still, and there was no doubt the tide was turning against them. It wouldn’t be long until all her people had fallen, and then the whole effort would have been for nothing.
Taj battled on, unwilling to quit despite her guilt, then heard a wild whoop at her back. She cast a furtive glance over her shoulder to see Rat grinning and hollering.
Behind her came the rebels, bolting across the scrubland, weapons raised and firing.
“I knew they wouldn’t let us down!” Rat cried out.
Taj hoped she was right.
Jak and Malcolm formed up alongside the Furlorians and crew and launched a furious barrage of fire toward the Wyyvans. The enemy lines slowed in response, their advance grinding to a stop under the assault of the rebels’ bolt rifles.
Taj smiled at the familiar sound she hadn’t heard arriving on Corzant. It was strangely comforting.
She glanced at Jak as he came up beside her. “I hope you didn’t bring everyone,” she told him.
“Everyone we could spare,” he answered, jerking his chin over his shoulder with a laugh. “Got an eighty-five-year-old grandpa in the pile somewhere, lobbing bolts at the enemy.”
Taj grinned at that, picturing the old male because she couldn’t see him.
At least if he was going to die today, he’d go out on his terms—like a warrior.
Still, Taj felt she had to warn Jak about what he was getting into.
“Much as I appreciate the backup, Jak, we’re not exactly winning the fight out here,” she told him.
“Which is why we’re here,” he shot back, winking at her.
“The point was to keep you and your people out of it, remember?”
“Where’s the honor it that, girl?” he
asked. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if all of you died and we lived on, skulking and hiding in the caves and getting by on dirt and refuse.”
Taj couldn’t blame him.
“Regardless, you’re stepping out of the fire into a bigger fire,” she went on, although she was sure she wasn’t going to convince him to back out now.
He just shrugged, as she had thought he would. “What good is living on your knees if you’re not willing to die on your feet?”
“You’re just full of witticisms, aren’t you?” Taj asked, chuckling.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think of stupid shit out here in the middle of nowhere,” he answered with a chortling laugh. “A person gets to examining the details of everything if you’re out here long enough. You start to think there’s wisdom in it.”
“Born and raised here, remember?” she shot back. “Trust me, I understand.”
He grinned.
“Besides,” he continued, “I was kinda hoping you had some kind of brilliant battle-ending plan you were holding onto for the last minute so you could come out on top looking glorious.”
“Well, part of that is the case, although the brilliant part is debatable,” she told him. “As for the waiting bit, that’s only because gack isn’t ready yet, not because I want to be dramatic.”
Wyyvan fighters screamed overhead and Taj ducked out of reflex, but the shuttles kept them busy, forcing them to veer off without firing on the crew or the rebels.
She glanced toward the outpost and was grateful that Galforin had decided to try a more traditional approach to wiping them out than she’d expected.
Given her experiences with Captain Vort, Taj had imagined Galforin would run the artillery at full effect, cutting down enemy and friend in an effort to clear the field and end the battle that much sooner.
But she was starting to think that the admiral felt he needed his grunts and the workers as badly as Taj wanted to rescue the workers and rebels.
