by Scott Baron
It was a true feat of highly specialized magical skill that the Tslavar craft were able to move at such a velocity underwater. Whoever had funded this invasion had spared no expense, for there were but a handful of power users alive who possessed the skill to craft such a spell. And this was confirmation of a sort that the ships were only the first stage of a much larger plan.
Ara knew no one would pour such resources into a mere scouting mission. Something far larger was afoot. And it looked like they’d be finding out what it was sooner than later.
Eddie had been the first to arrive in Downtown after the destruction of Cal’s command center. He and Ripley had only just left the retrofitting facility a short flight to the east when the event occurred and had immediately diverted their course to the city center.
Ripley raced out the door as soon as they touched down. “Oh my God! What happened?” she blurted as she took in the destruction––that which was visible above ground, that is.
“The Tslavars planted a magic bomb inside one of the captured cyborgs,” Charlie informed her. “When we brought him to command, he detonated.”
Ripley’s eyes went wide. “But Uncle Cal? Oh, no!”
“I’m fine, Ripley. And thank you for your concern,” a scratchy voice said over the damaged speakers.
“You’re okay!”
“Of course I am. You know my core systems don’t reside in this place.”
“Well, yeah. But it was a magic attack, so who knows what they might be able to do.”
“A fair point,” he conceded. “In any case, I am unharmed. However, I cannot say the same for the dozens who were within the terminus when the device went off.”
Bawb walked straight for the ship, determination in his stride. “Come. We must retrieve our gear and prepare.”
It was only once the initial shock of the destruction on the ground wore off that Bawb and Rika’s appearance sink in. They were still green-tinted with the residual aftermath of their battle.
“Uh, is that alien blood?” she asked as the team boarded her ship.
“Yeah,” Rika said. “It was a tough one. You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” she replied. “I was just thinking I should get some towels to put on the seats.”
Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at her resilience in the face of alien carnage. “Yeah, I hear ya, kid. I’m sure it’s a real pain, scrubbing alien blood out of the upholstery.”
“Hey, I’m serious. We just got Eddie detailed,” she shot back with a wry grin.
“And how did that go? Did you finally get your upgrades, Eddie?” Leila asked as she took a seat.
“I sure did,” the ship replied. “Though we didn’t get to do a full firing cycle assessment, what with the battle we were missing.”
“I’m sure you saw the feeds,” Charlie interjected. “They had additional forces waiting for us. We lost several ships in that first wave. So maybe it was better you were held up in the workshop.”
“I’m not looking to avoid a fight,” the AI said.
“Me either,” his teenage pilot agreed.
“And no one is asking you to. All I’m saying is, you may have dodged a bullet there. And now you have a proper weapons system, right?”
“Well...”
“Well, what?”
“We didn’t get a chance to do any tests at the targeting range,” Eddie admitted. “But hey, it all looks to be in working order. I’m confident it’ll do the job.”
“Less chatter, more flying,” Bawb said as he politely accepted the towel Ripley offered him and laid it out on his seat. “Time is of the essence. We do not know when they will strike next. Or where, for that matter. And as we so recently discovered, there is far more to this plan than we originally realized.”
“Okay, hang on,” Eddie said, lifting off into the sky. “I’ll have you home in a couple of minutes.”
“Can you please patch Cal in?” Charlie requested.
“He’s on.”
“Hey, Cal. I was wondering, has Sid noticed any unusual anomalies in orbit? Anything that might be a shimmer-cloaked craft?” He turned to Bawb. “That’s possible, right? In space, I mean.”
“It could be done, but there are too many ways to detect such a craft, as most shimmer magic does not function terribly well in the vacuum of space. It simply requires too much magic for most casters to maintain.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“In any case, Sid has not observed anything out of the ordinary in orbit. But as a precaution, he has already deployed the few scouts who have returned from the nearby systems but were forced to stay out of Earth’s atmosphere to serve as additional eyes in the sky.”
“Great. We need all the help we can get, even if they can’t risk passing through the atmosphere.”
“And an additional bonus is they are all well-armed and more than capable of extra-orbital combat.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning there is a small but deadly force ready to shoot down any hostile ships, be they entering the atmosphere or exiting it,” Cal said. “And they are quite good at it.”
Charlie liked the sound of that. The orbiting ships couldn’t help the people fighting down on the planet’s surface, but at least there was something of a backstop lurking high above. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a start.
“Please stand by. I’m receiving a transmission from one of the smaller craft flying the tracking pattern with Ara.”
“Good,” Charlie said. “I can’t reach her, so wherever they are, they’ve got to be pretty far away by now.”
Cal assessed the information the little ship had to offer, then conferred with the other AIs that were monitoring comms and satellite tracking. All confirmed the AI ship’s report.
“It would appear the hostile craft are still submerged and traveling together, heading south at a blistering pace.”
“If they are together, then they are moving on to the next stage of their plan. Whatever that may be,” Bawb noted. “They wish to subjugate the population of this planet. The question remains, how will they do so with so few resources at their disposal?”
“I’m not sure, Bob. But I think your plan’s the best start for the moment. Get home, gear up, and take to the sky.”
“And pause to wash off the Tslavar blood,” Rika suggested. “I don’t know about you, Bawb, but I could really use some dry, non-bloody clothes right about now.”
Despite the nature of their plight, the Wampeh cracked a little grin.
“Hey, I’ve got clean clothes that’ll fit you at our place,” Leila offered. “Eddie, can you drop us there after we stop at Bawb’s?”
“Of course. It’s just a tiny hop.”
“Thanks.”
“It would seem the fleeing ships are indeed heading south.”
“How far south?”
“Likely all the way. Based on what has been observed of their path, the Tslavar craft aim to round Cape Horn and proceed into the Atlantic.”
“Which means they could be going anywhere,” Charlie groaned. “Okay, keep an eye on them. We’ll gear up and get ready as fast as we can.”
“And then we bring the fight to them,” Rika said.
“Hell yes we will,” Charlie replied. “And this time, we’ll be ready.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Wait, there’s what, now?” Charlie repeated, the confused tone of his voice matching the look on his face.
“I said there is activity at the Asbrú’s landing site,” Cal repeated. “We cannot tell for certain, and none of the drones Vic has sent to survey the area have sent back any useful data. But something has happened.”
“How can you be so sure?” Bawb asked as he dug through the large duffle bag retrieved from his home, now resting at his feet at the armory of their temporary command center.
He pulled out his familiar pair of armlets, fully charged with magical power. A look of comforted relief flashed across his face for an instant as their weight
embraced his flesh.
“Because of this,” Cal said.
The display screen in the makeshift command center the AI had rerouted his feeds to blinked on, the data stream from across the globe flashing an image of the downed ship.
“Looks like the Asbrú, all right,” Charlie said. “But I don’t see how––”
“I’ll zoom in for you.”
The image quintupled in size, fixing on an area of leaves and grass to the ship’s starboard side. There was nothing to see there. But that was the point.
“Hang on. Play that again,” Charlie said.
“So you saw it, then?”
“I’m pretty sure we all did, Cal.”
“I didn’t,” Ripley grumbled. “What did I miss?”
“There, near the tree stump.”
“There’s a lot of tree stumps out there, Charlie.”
“The one at the bottom of the screen. Snapped at a sharp angle. You see it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, now watch the ground just to the left of it.”
Cal replayed the frames again on a loop.
“You see it?”
“I don’t know. Was it the––oh! Oh, shit! There’s a footprint there now, and it wasn’t there a minute ago!”
“Precisely,” Cal said. “We were receiving some odd readings from the area, but the ships tracking the progress of the undersea vessels confirmed both ships were still together.”
“But that doesn’t mean they didn’t already leave a contingent of troops on the ground,” Bawb noted. “And if they are there, camouflaged by shimmers all this time, preparing for their next steps, then that’s where they will be regrouping. Right back where this all started.”
Charlie leapt to his feet. “Come on! We’ve finally got the upper hand.”
“But their ships are untouchable,” Leila said.
“Sure, but this time we know where they’re going. And we can get there before them. There’s a likely path they’ll take to come ashore, and they’ll probably stick close to the water this time.”
Bawb smiled as he continued to gear up. His form-fitting armored vest slid easily into place, the lining of Ootaki hair from Hunze hidden from view but providing him an enormously powerful wellspring to draw on. His time for revenge was drawing closer, and the anticipation was delicious.
“Possessing all of this information ahead of time, we can position forces beyond the area of the crashed ship. They won’t be party to the initial engagement, but they’ll be standing ready to cut them off should they attempt a seaward escape. I like this plan, Charlie. I like it a lot.”
“There are still many details to work out,” Cal noted. “And it will take some time to get the necessary pieces deployed and in place.”
“Then get started while we’re en route,” Charlie said. “Bob, you have your shimmer cloak?”
“Of course.”
“So you can get in close. Think you might be able to take a few of them out? Maybe snatch their shimmer cloaks while you’re at it?”
The assassin gave him an amused look.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Charlie said. “So, if you can snatch us a few shimmers, then we’ll be on even footing. We can get close and have the cyborgs stay out of sight until we’re good to go. And when the cavalry arrives, they’ll look like the main attack, but we’ll already be in position to strike.”
It was an audacious plan, but with this group at his side, Charlie actually thought the crazy plan just might work.
“What are we waiting for?” Rika asked, bouncing on her feet. “Come on. Let’s get moving, already. Time’s a-wasting.”
“Wait,” Bawb said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “First, we must outfit you in a manner becoming a woman of your abilities.”
“I’m good,” she replied, waving her slaap in the air.
Bawb smiled at her, then drew a much more ornate slaap from his bag. It wasn’t too much larger than the one she already possessed, but even without sliding it on, she could feel the power it contained.
She took the offered device, the metal warm in her hands as she traced her fingertips over the seamless design. The scrollwork and details were exquisite, the work of a true artisan. This was no ordinary slaap. It was the tool of a master assassin, and a lot of coin had undoubtedly gone into its forging.
“I can’t take this,” she said, offering it back to the Wampeh. “You’ll need it.”
He chuckled as he slid his wand into the specialized holster he had crafted for it, protecting it from the harms of combat, while allowing easy access from its position on his hip. “I am more than adequately armed, my friend,” he said with a smile.
“Well... okay,” she finally relented, sliding the device onto her hand.
The magic it contained was even greater than she’d anticipated, and only now that it was hers to control could she feel the slaap’s true potential. It was a tool of great power, and in the right hands, it would spell the end of many.
“I’ll get it back to you in one piece,” she said. “Promise.”
Again, the Wampeh grinned. “This is not a loan.”
“What? No. There’s no way I could possibly––”
“A warrior deserves a warrior’s tools. And you are most certainly a warrior,” he said warmly. “Now, come. Let’s get you familiar with it while we are still on distant shores, where our enemy will not sense its use.”
Rika looked at Charlie, realizing just what a big deal this was. For a Wampeh Ghalian to part with one of his weapons in this manner was unheard of. Her friend gave her a little nod, accompanied by a happy grin. Leila was smiling as well. Rika, it seemed, had––at long last––gained Bawb’s approval. And more than that, she’d gained his trust.
“Well, if you insist,” she relented.
As she said the words, Bawb uttered an incantation under his breath. Something very old, and very arcane. Rika felt the power from the device latch onto her viscerally, bonding the slaap to her and her alone.
“What did you just do?”
“A particular weapon, that one,” he replied. “A warrior’s tool. Powerful. Deadly. And it would not do to have your own weapon used against you, would it?”
“You bonded it to me?”
“Yes. And while it would possibly still respond to me as its original master of so many years, this slaap is now linked to you alone. And should another attempt to wield it against you, great harm will befall them by their own hand.”
Charlie grinned. “It’s like the gallen spell I had on my weapons when I was a pirate.”
Bawb nodded. “Yes, it is similar in the most basic of ways. Though this is specialized, striking down any who wield it besides its owner, whereas a gallen merely prevents one from harming one’s comrades with their weapon.”
“Right. So you don’t have any ‘same side’ problems,” Ripley said. “Friendly fire, though I still don’t get how they call it that. Shit’s anything but friendly, if you ask me.”
Rika laughed at their young friend. “I’m with you on that,” she said. “But come on. I want to try this thing out.”
The group followed her outside, a noticeable spring in her step.
“You did good, man. I haven’t seen her this happy since we got here.”
“Yes, she does approve of the gift,” Bawb replied. “Though it was more to prepare her for the impending combat than to simply lift her spirits.”
Rika called up one of the most basic force spells and cast at a thick oak tree nearby in an overgrown park. She expected to perhaps knock a small branch from the sturdy tree. Or maybe even one of the thicker ones.
The tree exploded in a blast of force, reduced to pieces no larger than toothpicks.
“Hooooly...” She gasped, looking at the weapon on her hand in disbelief.
Bawb chuckled. “It may take a bit of getting used to,” he noted. “And this is why I wanted you to try it out now, when we are not in the thick of battle.”
“Holy shi
t, Bawb. It’s so powerful!”
“Yes, it is. That slaap will never disappoint you with a lack of power. However, learning to control that power and rein it in will be the challenge for you. At first, that is. I have no doubts you will master this tool quickly.”
Rika held up the slaap, admiring its lines once more, feeling the power flowing through it. “Kika rahm,” she cast, knocking a small branch from a nearby tree with precision.
“As I said,” the Wampeh said with great pleasure. “You will indeed master this quickly.”
“She’s good with that thing,” Charlie said with admiration.
“Yes, she is,” Rika laughed. “Now, come on. Let’s go kick some alien ass!” She smiled playfully at Bawb. “No offense.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Getting a force ready on UK soil was far easier than Charlie had anticipated. For one, there had been plenty of lead time from the initial attack to the present retaliation. Additionally, the people of that isle had always had a bit of a fearsome bent––something that had been reflected in the AIs inhabiting the region.
When the attack had first occurred, it had been the UK cyborgs who had immediately volunteered to go and kick the arse of whoever it was that needed kicking. They’d been talked down by Vic and the other AIs in the region, as they simply had no idea who was to blame. Also lacking was a convenient address at which to deliver said arse-kicking.
But now, with a full-fledged engagement being planned, it was with great joy that the cybernetic men and women armed themselves with pulse rifles and prepared to have it out with their planet’s invaders.
“No bagpipes?” a particularly zealous cybernetic man named Connor grumbled. “Och, what’s the point if ye cannae march ta war with yer pipes?”
He’d been a regional tourism assistant back before the Great War, and his programming had included some of the more colorful aspects of Northern life, from the brogue down to a love of the shrill wind instrument of the region.
“The point is stealth, Connor,” Charlie had told him for the umpteenth time as they gathered their forces and went over the plan of action.
