by Tim Marquitz
If the Furlorians were meant to win, they would.
Taj would know in a few minutes if that were the case.
No matter what happened in the skies above, they’d given it their all.
No one could take that away from them.
Chapter Twenty
Grand Admiral Galforin reveled in his success.
Reports of the battle came in sporadic bursts, and he couldn’t help but grin as his troops broke past the hail of artillery fire and reclaimed the outpost. The guns, which had been automated by the enemy, had all been dismantled.
The last few fighters he had left had cleared the skies of opponents and circled looking for new targets, while the forces in the tunnels beneath the outposts continued to hunt down and engage the Furlorians at every turn.
He was winning, despite everything.
“Have we finished them yet?” Galforin asked.
Volg cleared his throat. “Not yet, but it won’t be long. They’ve barricaded themselves in, bringing the roof down behind them. The soldiers are bringing the tunneling gear to bear and working to get in, our forces massing to make a concentrated push once they are through the debris.”
“Excellent,” the admiral crowed.
He’d lost so much since the arrival of the Furlorians, but it had been worth it to see them crushed.
The enemy armada had taken a beating at his hands, and although it continued to resist, the effort was taking a toll on it.
The Furlorians destroyers were falling away one by one, and their fleet was crumbling. There were barely enough ships to carry on the fight. Soon enough the command ship would be vulnerable, and Galforin would burn it to a husk and cast its remains into the cold depths of space like the cats had done to Captain Vort.
Everything was working out.
Galforin could picture himself returning to Belor Prime in victory, enough power at his fingertips to bring the Command Council to its knees before him.
No one could stand in his way.
Then, with all the might of the Toradium-42 available to him, he could take the fight to the Federation and tear their empire down around them.
He would be unstoppable, an emperor among peasants.
Galforin sank into his seat, unable to contain the grin that stretched his lips.
Soon, it would be all over, and he would rule, the true master of his destiny, no longer beholden to those fools on the Council.
He would show them…
“Uh…Admiral?” Volg’s voice was a splash of cold water on Galforin’s pleasant reverie.
“What is it, Volg?” he barked, anxious to return to his thoughts.
“Something’s going on,” his XO reported.
Galforin sat up, turning around to look at Volg. “What do you mean? Define ‘something.’”
“The last of the Furlorian ships are massing, sir,” he reported.
“Well, stop them,” he ordered, clambering to his feet.
“We’re trying,” Volg replied, relaying orders to focus the fleet’s fire on the gathering ships at the front of the enemy armada.
Galforin came over and examined Volg’s screen so he could see exactly what the XO was seeing without exception.
The lull in weapons fire worried Galforin.
“Why aren’t they firing at us, Volg?” he asked.
Volg examined his console before replying. “They’re putting all their energy into their defenses, Admiral. Reinforcing their shields.”
The Furlorian fleet adjusted from a spread-out mass of ships that had worked to evade the Wyyvans’ fire to a mass of ships grouped together so closely that Galforin began to wonder where one ship ended and another began.
“What are they doing?” he asked, unsure what he was seeing.
Apparently, so was Volg.
“I…don’t know, sir,” he answered, shaking his head.
The enemy ships continued to gather, their shields linking and reinforcing each other. The gleam from their combined defenses was apparent, and the Stormfront’s scanners registered the interconnected web of shields as each ship added their power to the next.
It was as if they were forming…
“A wall,” Galforin muttered, realization sinking in.
The admiral’s heart skipped a beat.
“Why would they—” the XO started, but the reasoning became clear a moment later.
The command ship hung back, using the grouping of its destroyers as its shield. Seconds later, the entire mass accelerated and streaked toward the Wyyvan fleet, a massive battering ram of destroyers heading straight for them.
Galforin let out a choked gasp and grabbed his XO roughly by the shoulder. “Retreat!” he ordered without hesitation.
There was no doubt in his mind what the Furlorian fleet intended.
They were going to ram the Stormfront.
“Get us out of here, Volg,” Galforin screamed.
The XO jumped to act, bringing the massive dreadnought around and peeling away from the rest of the Wyyvan ships.
“The fleet, sir?”
“Have them hold their position and take that wall of ships out,” the admiral ordered. “I want them between it and us.”
Volg grunted and complied, passing along the order.
Galforin didn’t care if it chafed his XO to comply. The admiral refused to be taken out like some grunt, run down by an enemy fleet intent upon committing suicide to claim a victory.
The Stormfront accelerated, slowly beginning its efforts to evade the wall of ships coming its way.
That was when they started taking fire.
Shields flashed as two more of the enemy destroyers appeared as if out of nowhere, having circled around the planet to sneak up behind the Wyyvan dreadnought.
Galforin growled. “Take them out!”
Volg loosed a volley of shots at the incoming destroyers, bursts of energy fire crashing into the enemy shields. The ships kept coming, as did those at their backs.
“Collision!” Volg shouted as the first of the enemy fleet crashed into the Wyyvan destroyers.
Focused on the enemy ships ahead of them, Galforin only saw the scanner view as several dots that represented his ships flashed and disappeared alongside several of the enemy’s.
“They’re not stopping,” Volg reported, his voice cracking.
The two troop carriers were next to fall.
Slower than the other ships, less maneuverable, they struggled to put up a defense, but the effort was futile. The ships went up in flames that died as quickly as they erupted, the shielded destroyers of the enemy driving straight through them.
Galforin hissed.
Although he didn’t give a damn about the lives lost, the ships represented years of hard work that he’d hidden from Command, his own personal fleet having grown and prospered under his command.
Now it was falling to ruin.
Worse still, there was nothing he could do about it.
“Get us out of here!” he ordered, knowing the XO’s bark of confirmation was little more than lip service.
The enemy destroyers came at them, firing all guns. The Stormfront held its own, giving far better than it was getting, but that mattered little in the grand scheme of things.
As one of the destroyers flared and lost its shield, it veered off and swung about, streaking straight toward the Stormfront.
Its companion pushed harder, providing it cover.
“Watch out!” Galforin shrieked, but he knew there was nothing that could be done.
Slow as they were moving, the Stormfront having yet to gather speed, the collision was inevitable.
Although the ship was shredded by the dreadnought’s guns as it approached, there was no stopping it.
It crashed into the side of the Stormfront, two goliaths colliding.
Alarms blared, the bridge bathed in crimson, and Galforin struggled to remain in his seat as the Stormfront shuddered at the impact.
Its shields deflected the brunt of the blo
w, but nothing could stop the momentum of the enemy destroyer.
As it broke apart across the hull of the Stormfront, dozens of systems failed in the dreadnought. Screens flickered, and flashing electrical shorts danced across the consoles as though lightning was gracing the night sky.
Fire suppression systems kicked in, and Galforin laughed at their ineffectiveness. What good was dousing spot fires when the whole ship was becoming an inferno?
Damage reports flooded in and Galforin ignored them. He didn’t care.
He knew what was coming next.
He shifted the view to the wall of enemy ships and glared at it.
Although the Furlorians were losing ship after ship to the last of his fleet, they had done their duty admirably.
The enemy’s command ship gathered speed and shot toward the Stormfront, streaking past the remaining Furlorian ships.
Loyal to the end, fools that they were, the Wyyvans focused their fire on the command ship but, undamaged by previous battles, it resisted all efforts, a deadly missile screaming straight toward Galforin.
As it drew closer, alarms screaming in his ears about the imminent impact, Galforin glanced at XO Volg.
“Let me guess…it’s loaded with Toradium-42?” the admiral asked.
Volg didn’t manage to reply, but Galforin knew the answer.
An instant later, the enemy command ship exploded, wiping out both fleets in a flare of destructive energy.
His last words were a curse that died on his tongue as he was incinerated.
Chapter Twenty-One
The crew had scrambled from the tunnels into the open air.
Although they still had their helmets on, Taj believed it was the best-tasting air she’d ever breathed.
She was glad to be back on the surface after the crazy battles underneath.
It had been nonstop since they’d Gated in, and although the battle wasn’t over, it was coming to a close one way or another.
Wyyvan bodies littered the ground where they emerged and Jadie scanned the area, admiring her handiwork.
“Now we just need to get out of here before the fighters pick us up and decide they want to play,” Kal stated, staring at the sky.
“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem much longer,” Taj told him.
She stared at the outpost from the slightly raised vantage point of the hills. Wyyvan soldiers were a blur of motion beyond the wrecked walls, going house to house in search of anyone left behind.
“Good luck with that,” Taj muttered under her breath.
There was no one left but Wyyvans and, soon there would be far fewer of those.
Dent had been quietly monitoring the situation in space, but he turned then, a wily grin stretching his lips.
“Contact,” he announced. “The destroyers have reached the Stormfront.”
A chill of exhilaration set Taj’s fur on end, and she broke into a childish smile that colored her cheeks.
Dent raised his wrist screen above the crew so everyone could watch. The Furlorians crowded around, watching as the Decimator bore down on the Wyyvan command ship.
Taj cringed every time one of the Furlorian ships was destroyed, the makeshift wall they’d crafted falling apart brick by brick, but there was an underlying excitement that grew with every passing second.
One of the destroyers collided with Stormfront, crippling it, and the Furlorians cried out, cheering and clapping.
They all knew Galforin was on that ship, the slimy lizard who had forced them from their home and had sent them fleeing into space.
To see his ship listing and venting its atmosphere into space was one of the most satisfying moments Taj had ever experienced.
That was eclipsed by the arrival of the Decimator.
It broke through the lines, taking fire as it streaked toward Galforin’s ship.
It looked like a giant missile as it closed on its target.
Taj held her breath, waiting for the collision she realistically knew didn’t need to happen.
With all the Toradium-42 the shuttles had carted aboard, there was no stopping the Decimator’s deadly flight, regardless of what happened.
It was Death coming to settle the score.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to relax until she saw Dent trigger the ship’s self-destruct sequence.
Taj looked away as the ship exploded, more because of its destruction than the brilliant flash that whited out the view screen.
It had been her order that had laid waste to the powerful ship the Federation had so generously given her, and she felt a pang of regret at its passing.
Up above, the explosion flared like a dying star, lighting the night sky and chasing away the darkness for a moment.
No need for the view screen. Taj stared up at the blast and marveled at its size and ferocity.
She kept waiting for the sound, despite knowing she would never hear it.
“Whoa!” Torbon muttered as the newly-born star expired and faded, night washing back over them.
It’s almost over, Taj thought.
The flurry of Wyyvan movement lapsed into a coma.
All across the outpost, the soldiers stopped and stared at the sky as one. The remaining fighters streaked toward space, abandoning the planet and leaving streaks of shame in their wake.
Dent examined his computer again and nodded. “Both fleets have been annihilated,” he reported.
Once more, a pang of regret tied a knot in Taj’s stomach, but it was a fair price for what they’d gained, she thought.
“Well, we’re only outnumbered a hundred to one now,” Krawg mentioned, staring at the outpost and counting the enemy who remained.
“Easy work for a brute like you,” Torbon told him.
The Ursite shrugged. “If I were so inclined. You can go first.”
“Someone’s gonna have to take them out eventually,” Lina stated. “It’s not like we have any ships to come in and clean them up anymore.”
“Just the one,” Dent replied.
The crew turned to look at the AI with questioning eyes.
He chuckled. “You didn’t actually think Rat would let them leave, did you?”
Taj grinned. She hadn’t expected the rebels to stick around, especially after they’d been forced to ride up to the ship on loads of the explosive Toradium-42.
“There aren’t any shuttles left, however,” the AI went on, “so it’s not all good news. We have no way up to them.”
“Could be worse,” Cabe said.
Everyone agreed.
A flutter of movement at the outpost caught Taj’s eye. The groups of Wyyvan soldiers began to fracture and they scattered through the compound, their organization failing as they learned that their entire command structure had been wiped out.
“Too bad the Wyyvans didn’t get more of the Toradium-42 out before we killed them all,” Kal said, looking at the tunnel entrance wistfully.
“We’ll probably have to do it ourselves at some point,” Taj said. “At least, after we clear the lizards out. We don’t need them setting it off as a last resort.”
“I don’t think they understand how powerful the stuff is,” Lina suggested. “If they did, they wouldn’t have sat atop it so willingly.”
“They’ve never been known for their wits,” Krawg stated. “Except S’thlor. He’s pretty smart for a lizard.”
“The same way you’re pretty smart for a walking rug,” Torbon joked.
“Says the cat who walks on two legs,” the Ursite shot back. “You’ll have to show me your litter box one day.”
While the crew bantered back and forth, the stress of their battles sloughing away, Dent turned to Taj.
There was still more work to do.
“How do you want to clean out the remaining Wyyvans?” he asked. “We can have the rebel destroyer threaten them and see if we can get the soldiers out into the open,” the AI suggested. “That would be better than trying to go in with our small group and root them out on
e by one. Someone’s bound to get hurt if we go that route.”
As morning crept over the Maladorian Plains, shimmers of red and pink coloring the distant sky, Taj cast a glance over her shoulder at the canyon that sprawled behind her.
She retracted her helmet and breathed in the early morning air, holding it in her lungs for as long as she could before letting it out in a slow whistle.
Although it was hard to tell with all the destruction the Wyyvans’ mining operation had wrought across the scrubland, Taj could taste the barest hint of moisture in the air, as well as the tang of blooming plants.
The hint of the season was evident in the steep mountains that made up Everon’s Canyon, their russet colors shifting to a pleasant green. Taj could hear distant howls carried on the slight breeze that caressed her cheeks and set her whiskers fluttering.
“I have a better idea,” she told him.
“Does it involve explosions?” the AI asked.
Taj shook her head. “Nope, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be fun.”
“When you put it that way, I hate it already,” Dent told her, grinning.
“What better way to get rid of an infestation of vermin than to let Nature take care of it?” she asked.
She turned and waved to the rest of the crew, motioning for them to follow her.
“Let’s take a walk,” she suggested. “I think we’ll find exactly what we’re looking for a few valleys over.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Taj whooped and hollered, firing her modified pistol into the air.
It had been three days since the crew had climbed out of the tunnels and made their way through Everon’s Canyon, but now they were back.
And they weren’t alone.
A herd of trrilacs accompanied them.
Great bulbous bodies flew gracelessly through the air, shifting with every coordinated flap of the multitude of colossal, membranous wings that extended from their spines and jutted out behind them.
Wide, round eyes shone like sparkling stars, staring into the distance above great gaping mouths. Millions of serrated teeth filled their maws.
It was in the trrilacs’ nature to devour anything in their path.
