A Galaxy Divided

by Spencer Maxwell

  Ryze laughed uncomfortably. Despite the ventilators in his suit, sweat started to trickle down his back. “Me? Scared? In your dreams, Blue. Ryze Starlo doesn’t get scared or worried or even sad, for that matter.”

  Blue’s large eyes blinked methodically. WHAT HAPPENS, HAPPENS, STARLO. THAT’S THE BEST ADVICE I CAN GIVE YOU. YOUR FRIEND IS EITHER DEAD OR ALIVE. IF SHE’S ALIVE, WE SAVE HER. IF SHE’S DEAD, WE CONTINUE OUR MISSION OF BRINGING DOWN THE REGIME RESPONSIBLE NOT JUST FOR HER DEATH, BUT FOR THE DEATHS OF COUNTLESS OTHERS ACROSS THE GALAXY!

  Ryze nodded. They weren’t exactly the best words to hear, but they were real, and right then realness was what he needed. He went to the ship and sat down on the ramp. The familiarity of the Starblazer was a welcome feeling, because the possibility of Wylow’s death loomed large in his mind. The ideas that he had failed, that he was too late, that if he truly cared for her he would’ve never let her get taken in the first place—those were all he could think about.

  “Moment of truth,” he mumbled.

  “Yeah,” Alfis said, “moment of truth.” He offered Ryze a smoke. “Want some? It’ll help you relax a bit.”

  “Nah. Thanks, though.”

  Alfis sat next to him as Blue rolled across the pad toward the exits, gone to help clear out some of the mess, Ryze suspected. He got up to follow, wanting to help out, but Alfis shook his head.

  “Let him be. He likes the solitude,” Alfis said.

  A few silent moments passed, and then Ryze stood. The anticipation, the anxiety, it was killing him. He needed to push his mind somewhere other than Wylow’s fate. So he went back to the Blazer’s main thrusters with a toolkit in hand and began chipping away at some faint carbon scoring. He chipped and chipped until he saw chrome, and then scrubbed the inside of the drum until that metal shone like new. He did the same to the wings. His mind drifted, and soon he was in a zone. Time passed faster this way.

  Alfis smoked cigarette after cigarette. The entire landing pad was soon filled with the smell of his bacco. Not a wholly unpleasant scent, either. In fact, Ryze found it oddly soothing.

  “So what’s up with this rebellion? It’s just you three, Sae, and some people locked up on Sker?” Ryze asked, still trying to occupy his mind.

  “Nah,” Alfis answered. He ashed his smoke. “There’s a bunch of us. Not as many as the Dominion’s got, but enough. We all have our jobs. Right now, breaking into that prison is mine and Eradice’s. Eradice hates it, though. She don’t like gettin’ her hands dirty, you know, but it’s part of the job. After we bust ‘em out, she’ll be happier.”

  Ryze said, “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, then her and Blue’ll get back to their diplomatic crap.”

  “What’s that entail?”

  “Going around and rounding up old government officials. Someone needs to run this galaxy once we overthrow that dickhead God-King. Me? Well, I like the action. Cuttin’ them bastards up.”

  “Agreed.” But Ryze had never thought of that, of replacing the Dominion fascists with a democracy. That was the way it had been before, but it all seemed so long ago. Then again, he rarely thought of a rebellion, but it all made sense. He was slightly sad about the idea of parting ways with Blue once their mission was complete. Maybe I can go with them, become a diplomat myself. He almost laughed at the idea. Him? A diplomat? Yeah, right.

  His train of thought derailed when pattering feet echoed in the distant corridor. A small, otter-like shadow ballooned on the walls.

  Ryze climbed down from the left wing faster than his age should’ve allowed. He dropped the wrench he was holding, didn’t even hear it clatter off the cement.

  Eradice emerged from the hall and stood before Ryze, the ship, and the smoking Alfis. She rubbed her small hands together.

  Ryze thought she looked nervous, maybe even sad.

  He prepared for the worst. Eradice would tell him Wylow was EXTERMINATED, remains CREMATED, and his chin lowered at the thought.

  “Prisoner 3114,” Eradice began, “I’m pleased to inform…is alive and in close proximity to our own men and women.”

  Ryze leaned forward. He wasn’t sure if he had heard her right. Alive? No, you’re hearing what you want to hear, he told himself. “Prisoner 3114?”

  “Yes. Wylow Forna. Your friend. She is alive. I wish I could say ‘and well’ after, but of her condition, I don’t know for certain.”

  “Alive,” Ryze repeated.

  “Yeah, Starlo! The chick said it, didn’t she?” Alfis grumbled. He stood next to Ryze, his pointed ears barely stretching above Ryze’s waist. “Geesh, you lose your marbles in that fight back there or something? Inhaling too much spent fuel and carbon dust?”

  “Alive!” Ryze shouted as he bent down and picked the little guy up. “Alive! Alive! I knew it!”

  Together, Ryze and Alfis spun around and around, Ryze laughing, Alfis squirming and shouting, ”Put me down, asshole, or I’ll cut you in half like I did that Gray!”

  Dizzy, Ryze did. “Sorry,” he said. “Got a little carried away.”

  Alfis retracted his claws and dusted himself off. “Damn right you did. Next time you pick me up like I’m your long-lost lover, I ain’t gonna warn you. I’m just gonna slice you!”

  The threat barely registered in Ryze’s head. All he could think about was Wylow.

  She’s alive! Thank the Gods!

  Eradice walked to the ship, a somber smile on her face. Blue followed her. He had no mouth to smile, but Ryze didn’t like the way the Gelerris’s many eyes looked. They seemed…worried.

  Ryze cleared his throat, falling back to earth, and asked Eradice, “All right, what’s the bad news?”

  “Well…she’s—your friend is scheduled to be terminated on the morrow.”

  Ryze gave no reply. In times like these, he knew that actions spoke louder than words ever could. So he pivoted and headed toward the Starblazer’s onramp.

  STARLO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

  He paused halfway in the ship. “I’m going to save my friend.”

  BUT WE NEED TO COME UP WITH A PLAN—

  “We can do that while we’re flying, but I don’t need a plan. Sker is eight systems away. That’s a long QJ ride. We don’t got time to sit around twiddling our thumbs.” He tapped the butt of the blasrifle sticking up over his shoulder. “Worst comes to worst, this is our plan.”

  With that, Ryze entered the ship.

  Behind him, Alfis whooped and said, “You know what? I think I’m actually starting to like this guy.”

  Eighteen

  Their journey was a long one. Even pushing the engines, they were cutting it close, and despite Ryze’s usual plan of shooting first and asking questions later, Eradice and Blue came up with their own. Hastily made, yeah, but just crazy enough to possibly work.

  Ryze killed the engines. The ship went dark.

  A swirling red dwarf planet filled the viewscreen. Sker.

  The cockpit of the Starblazer was cramped once again. It seemed like—especially after Ryze rescued Wylow and Jade from Xovia—the cockpit was always crowded.

  “Back in your seats!” Ryze shouted. “I’ve got this.”

  “You don’t have a cloak? What kind of ship ain’t got a cloaking device?” Alfis asked. “We should’ve gotten one that had a cloak!” He was smoking his third stick of bacco in less than an hour. Ryze kept asking him to put it out, but Alfis listened about as well as Jade.

  “I tried to tell him,” Spex said, voice echoing all around them. “If he hadn’t spent so much money at exotic saloons and gambling houses, we could’ve easily afforded a cloaking device.”

  “Yeah,” Ryze said, “but then I would’ve been robbed of countless good times. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that.”

  “Can you all focus? Please?” Eradice said. Her slender, elongated body slid between Blue and Alfis as she climbed up on the console dashboard, inches away from the view screen.

  SHE’S RIGHT, Blue said. WE MUST FOCUS!

  Alfis was reac
hing for the flight sticks. Ryze slapped his hand away. “If I don’t get to lift you in the air and spin you around like my prom date, then you don’t get to touch my ship!”

  Alfis grimaced. “I see how it is, Starlo.” He began slapping at Ryze’s armor, jostling for the controls. “C’mon, I can fly it better than you. Move aside! You ain’t got a clue about what you’re doing!”

  Blue’s tentacles whipped about the cockpit, snippets of green passing by in blurs.

  “ENOUGH!” Spex shouted, his voice so loud the speakers sounded like they were going to short out.

  Everyone quickly quieted down.

  Eradice, still standing on the console with both hands on her hips, said, “Thank you, Spex.”

  “You are quite welcome, Eradice. As for you three,” he continued, “you are supposed to be distinguished rebels, not mewling children. So behave, please.”

  “Can he talk to you like that?” Alfis asked, pointing a thumb in the direction of the red light.

  Ryze shrugged, as if to say What can I do about it?

  THE AI IS RIGHT. EVERYONE TAKE A DEEP BREATH.

  They did.

  NOW EXHALE.

  They did.

  BETTER?

  They were.

  “The plan,” Eradice said softly. “We have to go over the plan again, because this won’t be an easy job.”

  “Right,” Ryze said. “We’re sorry, Eradice.”

  “We’ve been cooped up in this damn box too long,” Alfis added. “Now, I ain’t a pansy like Starlo here—”

  SILENCE! Blue bellowed, causing Ryze and Alfis to clap their hands to the sides of their heads. Blue’s fury felt like a mental thunderstorm.

  When he could think again, Ryze told himself: I’m this close to punting that little fur ball off my ship. Geesh, and I thought Jade, Wylow, and me didn’t get along at first. Compared to this new crew, the three of us were a dream team.

  Silence ensued.

  Eradice went on, looking at the small watch on her wrist. “The transport should arrive out of its QJ in less than an hour. When it arrives, it will dump its spent fuel shells and travel to the planet on momentum. As their hatch is open, Alfis will sneak on, since he is the only one small enough to fit, and he’ll release an escape pod for Ryze and Blue to enter the transport through. The pulse I send out will give you about ninety seconds to make it from the Starblazer into the ship undetected. Once inside, you must incapacitate the pilot and navigator. Expect cybersoldiers, too. At least one, but perhaps more. The pulse should weaken everything running on electric power, but—”

  Should, Ryze thought bitterly as he looked down at Alfis. The Atorga had his hand up.

  Eradice pointed at him, a little annoyed. “Yes, Alf?”

  “What if they don’t come out where we think they’re gonna come out?”

  “They will,” Eradice assured him. “The Dominion sticks to certain QJ ‘highways,’ if you will, and for as long as I’ve been monitoring their travels, I’ve never seen one veer off-course without reason. Especially this close to a Dominion-controlled planet, and they wouldn’t dare break protocol now.”

  Eradice sounded confident enough. In truth, Ryze was worried about the same thing, but hearing Eradice’s sure tone helped ease that worry.

  Because she isn’t hopping on a prison transport ship in the middle of Dominion space, a doubtful voice whispered in his head. He quickly silenced it. I’ve done crazier things than this. Way crazier.

  “I feel like we didn’t plan this enough,” Alfis babbled. “And this probably ain’t gonna go too good.”

  YOU DIDN’T PLAN IT AT ALL, Blue replied. IT WAS ERADICE AND I. SO DON’T WORRY, WE KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING, AND THIS IS OUR BEST CHANCE OF SUCCEEDING.

  “Relax, Alfis,” Ryze whispered. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Watch it, Starlo. You know I can damn well take down a legion of Dominion ships if I wanted to.” Alfis scoffed. “I don’t need no protection.”

  WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER, Blue added. WE MUST HAVE EACH OTHER’S BACKS. REMEMBER, ALFIS, WYLOW IS AS MUCH OF A SISTER TO US AS OUR OWN IN CAPTIVITY.

  “Right you are, Blue,” Eradice said. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes…the pulse will be covert enough that’ll it fly under the radar. They won’t think it’s an attack. Then you three take care of the Dominion soldiers on the transport, get their clearance codes, and I’ll work on programming a prisoner transfer for Alfis. Ryze, I’ll send his details to your suit’s OS.”

  Ryze saluted. “Deal.”

  Alfis held up his hands, palms out. “Wait a minute, let’s back up here. What about their scanners before they come out? They’ll see this ship and turn tail, probably tell the planet and get us all killed.”

  “That’s why I killed the engines,” Ryze answered.

  “I’m talking about when she sends the pulse, numb-nuts. I need guarantees, not maybes.”

  Ryze scowled.

  “It’s a possibility,” Eradice answered. “But a small one, so I doubt they’ll notice before the pulse kills their communicator,” Eradice answered. “By that time their own engines will be off, too. Remember, I said they will fly to Sker on momentum.” Then, Eradice added in a whisper: “Most likely.”

  MIGHT JUST THINK WE’RE DRIFTING SPACE JUNK ANYWAY, Blue added.

  “Pretty fitting description for this ship,” Alfis mumbled.

  “Hey, watch it, you little tree elf,” Ryze hissed.

  BOTH OF YOU WATCH IT! Blue said.

  “Sorry,” Ryze mumbled.

  NOW, WE WILL HAVE TIME, BUT IT WILL ONLY BE ENOUGH FOR US TO COMMANDEER THE VESSEL, Blue said. SO NO MORE ARGUING!

  “Like I said, these transports usually have a small crew: a pilot, a navigator, and at least one cybersoldier on guard,” Eradice continued, smiling at Blue, grateful for his sternness as well as his massive, gelatinous bulk. “You must be efficient and thorough.”

  “What about the prisoners on board?” Ryze asked.

  Eradice looked down. Her whiskers twitched. “There are none on this vessel. This one…it’s coming back from Darkveil.”

  Ryze nodded, cold fingers twisting his insides. He knew Darkveil. The whole galaxy knew that place. The entire planet was a mass grave. Dominion researchers used the Darkveil’s resources—which some claimed was raw magic—to experiment on the dead, and the Dominion had no problem providing corpses for these sick studies.

  “Even better,” Alfis said. “Don’t gotta worry about civvies getting in the way. Maybe this ain’t gonna be a problem at all.” He laced his fingers together and cracked them.

  “Carrying on, the pulse should slow the cyberguard down,” Eradice said. “If there is, in fact, one, but I honestly doubt it considering the nature of the transport’s mission. Just remember, priority number one is preventing the pilot and navigator from notifying Sker of our attack when their comm kicks back on. Then we’ll worry about what happens on the surface.”

  IF THAT HAPPENS, THE ENTIRE PLAN FAILS, Blue said.

  “But I believe in you all,” Eradice added. She then tapped the mini-holopad in her hand, opening the ghostly blue schematics of the prison. With a pinch of her fingers, she zoomed. “Our prisoners are located here and here. There’s about half a mile’s distance between Wylow’s cell and the two dozen rebels we must save. I’ve sent the schematics to Ryze’s helmet nav.”

  Ryze nodded. “I’ll get Wylow, you all just worry about the rebels and deactivating the planetary shield so we can have a way outta there.”

  All Dominion prison planets had a shield to prevent escapees and unexpected arrivals. Contrary to belief, they were easy to disconnect—provided you knew where the switch was…

  Luckily, Eradice did, and she had already discussed that part of the plan with Blue. He had offered to disable the shield while Ryze and Alfis performed the other tasks. But how the Gelerris would get there unnoticed was a mystery.

  One thing at a time, Ryze told himself. Just worry about Wylow for now.

  “
Sir, if I may,” Spex interjected, “why don’t you free all of the prisoners?”

  Eradice nodded. “There are close to five hundred prisoners in the facility, and three times that number in guards, both of flesh and metal. We would never be able to do it.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ryze said. “We could do it.”

  “The odds ain’t in our favor, Star Boy,” Alfis said.

  Ryze ignored the quip. “Maybe, but I’ve dealt with worse odds before.”

  “It’s your funeral, man.”

  IT’LL BE ALL OF OUR FUNERALS, ALFIS. WE STICK TO THE PLAN. IN AND OUT. HIT THEM QUIETLY, AND THEY WON’T EVEN KNOW WE WERE HERE. Blue’s many eyes turned serious—well, more serious than usual.

  Ryze exhaled. “All right. Stick to the plan. Got it.”

  “Good.” Eradice shut off the holopad. “I’ll spare boring you further. On the ground, you all know what to do. Now, suit up and get ready.”

  “Piece of cake,” Alfis added.

  “Spex, how are we time wise?” Ryze asked. He swiveled the pilot’s chair in front of the console. On the screen, Spex brought up the transport’s current coordinates.

  “So far, so good, sir,” he answered. “Transport 3991 will arrive in T-minus thirty-eight minutes.”

  The thirty-eight minutes went fast—too fast. Spex put a clock on the main viewscreen. It was currently counting down from a minute. As Ryze watched the seconds tick away, his muscles tightened.

  “Places, all!” Eradice said. “Spex, let us know when we’re fifteen seconds out?”

  “Of course, milady,” the AI answered.

  Looking at the others, Eradice said, “Good luck,” and with a snap of her cape, she left the corridor and headed toward the cockpit.

  Ryze, Alfis, and Blue waited outside the airlock. Ryze wore his helmet, along with his newly-repaired salt-colored armor. He had strapped his flayzer to his back and had a more than normal amount of n-packs in his suit’s storage compartments. Alfis was dressed in a space jumper specifically tailored to his odd body shape, though the helmet didn’t exactly account for his large ears—they looked slightly crammed in there with his whiskery face. Weapons wise, he had a handblas tucked away into one of the holsters he wore around his waist, which he said he wouldn’t need, but that was it. Blue wore nothing, nor did he carry a blaster.