The Renegade

by P. M. Johnson

  Stunned silence followed Ravenwood’s blistering accusations. Then as one, the Tullan leaders showered Ravenwood with insults and profanity. They walked toward him, gesturing violently and closing him off from Beth and Longmire, who had entered the room just after him.

  “What about you, Humani?” sneered one of them.

  “Yes,” shouted another. “You hide behind these walls and dare us to face the hordes of Sahiradin. Why don’t you go out there if you’re so brave!”

  “Unlike all of you, I do not pretend to be a warrior,” countered Ravenwood loudly, pausing to allow his words to seep into the Tullans’ brains, further enraging them. “But I do know where I can find warriors who are ready to fight.”

  He turned to look at Longmire. “Well, general. Is the Earth Defense Force ready to meet the Empress’ army on the field?”

  “Hell yes!” replied Longmire, who had been carefully listening to Beth’s translation of the exchange between Ravenwood and the Tullans. Beth translated his response into Urudaska.

  “And will you attack when the order is given?” asked Ravenwood.

  “Yes we will,” said Longmire without hesitation.

  Ravenwood extended his hand toward Longmire. “Do you see this Humani?” he asked of the Tullans. “This is a soldier, a warrior! He leads other warriors. What are you? I know you’re loud and you enjoy eating, drinking, and fighting each other, but are you warriors? I think not! You will know a Tullan by his deeds, and your deeds are not those of warriors!”

  A big Tullan in the middle of the group began to speak, but Ravenwood held up a hand, stopping him. “No words. Deeds! Action! The entire galaxy is watching. Generation after generation will speak of this day. Will it be with admiration or disdain? Redeem yourselves! Even if we all die here today, let it not be like fleeing animals. Let us die with our honor intact.”

  Chapter 51

  In every battle, plans quickly become useless but the act of planning is indispensable. Every leader in an army, from lance corporal to commanding general, must carry forward with the plan for as long as possible then cast it aside and follow their guts and their training to victory.

  - Interview with General Joshua Chamberlain Longmire.

  Logan and Hamza quickly walked the line one last time, making minor adjustments to soldiers’ positions and offering words of encouragement. They were stationed along a reinforced portion of the wall. It contained a narrow slit overlooking the valley below through which they could pour fire on the advancing Sahiradin forces. Logan stopped when he reached the halfway point in the line.

  “Alright, listen up everyone. There’s a hell of a firefight going on up in orbit,” said Logan into his comms device and to those nearby. “The enemy has successfully landed troop transports at the far end of the valley. They’re taking losses but not enough to block the invasion. As soon as they deploy, they’ll be racing up the valley toward us. They know we’re here ready to pour hell and fire on them but they’ll have shields to protect them. That means we’ll see action soon. Be ready. They’ll use sappers and force detonators to get under our shield dome. Check your equipment, check your weapons. You’ll be using them soon. When you hear the order to move, do it quick. And stay the hell out of the way of the Grenn. They’re a lot faster than they look.”

  “You were at Bullard Creek,” said Logan to Hamza as they hurried toward the Tullan and Grenn positions for a final check to ensure they were ready to move in unison with War Dog Brigade.

  “Yeah,” replied Hamza. “I was on the wrong side, but I was there.”

  “So you know how the Sahiradin like to fight up close. They’re not like the Lycians. Their warrior ethos, their religious devotion to what they call The Law, demands that they kill with the sword whenever possible.”

  “I know. The troops know, too.”

  “It’s one thing to know it. It’s another thing to experience it. The troops will be fine once they’ve gotten their first taste of battle, but you, me, and the rest of the officers will need to be out front. The troops need to see us going toe-to-toe with the enemy.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” said Hamza.

  Logan grinned. Though he’d have preferred to have a few more months of integrated training with the Lycians, he was encouraged by the fact that so many troops had served under him in Second Army. He was also glad to have Hamza at his side, someone he knew from his Academy days, someone who’d undergone the same training and education, someone he could trust.

  When they reached the end of the line they used a Brevian translator to exchange a few words with the Tullan commander, Qurah Zish, and Agrom. They confirmed their plan of attack. Zish and his Tullans would take the right, Grenn the middle, and War Dog Brigade the left. Their goal would be the portable shield dome the advancing Sahiradin warriors would be hiding under. They would rush from their concealed doors and soon be under the enemy’s own shield, giving them a chance to destroy their shield generator.

  “Logan.”

  It was Beth’s voice. Logan pressed his fingers against his earpiece to hear above the steady roaring of heavy guns and reverberations of strikes against the Lycian shield dome.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Get ready. Ravenwood and I are watching the battle play out here in the command center. More enemy troop transports got through than we expected.”

  “How many more?”

  “A lot, Logan. Their army is massive – far bigger than we expected.”

  Logan cursed under his breath. The spirits within him understood the danger and stirred in his breast, fearful of the dangers ahead.

  “We’ll, that’s just more Sahiradin we’ll have to kill,” he said.

  “The Lycians are reconsidering the plan of attack,” said Beth. “They want to stay inside D’norah Kûhn and force the Sahiradin to try to breach the gates. They’re not going to meet them in the open.”

  “That’ll get us all killed, Beth!” he shouted angrily. “Every time the Lycians hide behind fixed fortifications, the Sahiradin rip right through them and slaughter everyone inside. We have to hit them before they get to the walls and thin their numbers. You know that. We have to stick to the plan!”

  There was a long pause before Beth spoke again. “General Ghorla just issued new orders. No one is to leave the fortress.”

  “This is insane, Beth! They’ll crack these walls like an egg. Then we’ll be fighting on their terms, outnumbered and no room to maneuver. What’s the fleet doing?”

  “Trying to keep from being overwhelmed. Havoc’s here, Logan. She was stuffed full of Codex fighters. They’re swarming the fleet and threatening to destroy the last remaining Lycian khâl.”

  “To hell with the khâl!” shouted Logan.

  “It’s our only way out of here if we need to evacuate,” replied Beth as calmly as possible, though Logan could hear the fear in her voice.

  “Evacuate? There’s no evacuating Agurru and you know it! We need to attack, Beth. We’re following the enemy’s battle plan! The Sahiradin are dictating the pace, and we can’t allow that. We have to disrupt their plan, put them on their heels!”

  Just then Logan heard another voice in his ear. Judging from the sharp precision of the words and telltale elongation of certain words, it was a Brevian.

  “General Brandt. Do you hear me General Brandt?”

  “Yes I hear you.”

  “I am conveying new orders from General Ghorla. You are not to launch your flank attack. You are to remain in your position and defend against any assault on your end of the line.”

  “Listen! You tell Ghorla that if we don’t attack, the Sahiradin will blow a hole in this place and kill every last one of us. Tell him!”

  “Those are General Ghorla’s orders, General Brandt. Do not deviate from them.”

  Logan looked at Hamza, who had also heard the Brevian’s words.

  The colonel shook his head in disbelief. “This won’t end well.”

  Logan switched bac
k to his private channel. “Beth, what are the chances of getting reinforcements from the rest of the fleet?”

  “Not good. As soon as Havoc deployed her fighters she disappeared. Now we’re hearing reports of significant attacks deep in Lycian space. The few ships Var-Imar didn’t bring here are scrambling to respond.”

  “Damn it!” cursed Logan. The spirits within him were now highly agitated. They understood something was amiss. They knew the Sahiradin would soon be upon them. “I’m not sitting in this fortress to be trapped like rats, Beth. Ghorla’s order is a death sentence.”

  “Logan, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m asking you please don’t. You can’t do anything on your own without getting yourself and your men killed.”

  “Tell Ghorla to get ready,” said Logan through clenched teeth, ignoring Beth’s warning. “We’re hitting the scaly bastards just like we planned.”

  Logan’s words sparked a riot among the spirits. Their faces flashed before his mind’s eye. They wanted him to flee. They threw themselves against the barrier to his conscious mind in an attempt to bend him to their will.

  Logan grew dizzy from the sudden onslaught. He dropped to one knee and closed his eyes tight. You cowards, stop your howling! You’ve cheated death for so long you’ve lost your nerve, if ever you had any!

  He couldn’t understand the shrieks and howls that reverberated through his mind, but he perceived a common thread. Yes, they feared death, but not just because they clung to this existence. Logan was missing a critical piece of information; he was forgetting something.

  The ghostly image of the One Voice suddenly appeared before him, a vision no one else could perceive. He looked up and glared at the apparition, undaunted by its ghoulish appearance. Unlike when he saw them while meditating, this phantom was not of the Alamani Navigator as she appeared when she lived. Gone were her large round eyes and small almost childlike face. This image was that of a half-decomposed wraith. Its dry, dead skin stretched over brittle bones. Blank, jaundice-colored eyes devoid of life’s spark stared at him. The ghost opened its mouth, stretching the skin over its cheeks to reveal ragged gashes in its flesh, revealing rotted teeth and torn gums. She raised her skeletal hand from under dark robs and pointed at him.

  His heart gripped with fear, Logan tried to pull away as he watched the gruesome vision draw closer to him, thin strips of flesh hanging from the bones of her outstretched forearm like old rags. She opened her mouth as if to speak but the sounds that issued from the dark maw were not words. They were ear-piercing shrieks, like a thousand terrified voices ripping through the wind.

  He raised his hands and covered his ears in a futile attempt to block the mind-splitting sounds. Soon he lost awareness of his surroundings and felt himself being pulled inward. In some ways it was like the beginnings of a communion, but unlike the expansive feeling of a communion, he felt his universe getting ever smaller. Now he understood. The One Voice was seeking to pull him into that space in his mind which he reserved for his meditations. Understanding her need to communicate with him, he ceased his resistance and commenced his meditation technique.

  The image of a sunflower filled his mind. It swayed in a light breeze of a perfect summer’s day. Logan clung to that image, pushing all the fear and anger out of his mind. His heartrate slowed. His breathing grew calmer. As he allowed himself to drift deeper into his inner self, he felt the presence of another. He turned and saw the One Voice as she had appeared before abandoning her body for the pillar on Tarsik. Logan focused his thoughts on the Alamani.

  You want me to run, but where? No place will be safe if we lose today. You and your kind ran, but what good did it do you? I’m not like you. I’m a Humani, a child of the Geth. You created the Sahiradin to fight my ancestors, now help me to fight your creations. Help me kill them. You desire this as much as I do. The Sahiradin must die, all of them. There is no other way.

  The One Voice did not attempt to speak to Logan. Instead she opened her arms wide and ushered in darkness from all sides until the two of them stood under a single cone of light. Logan was about to question her, but stopped when he saw a figure approaching from the shadows. He took a step back, but the One Voice turned and gave him a reassuring look. The figure stepped into the light. Logan immediately recognized the pale, hairless humanoid with its glowing red eyes and claw-like hands. His heart began to race. Adrenalin surged through his body. Standing before him was the creature he had encountered on Tarsik. He remembered how no weapon could injure it. He recalled how it tossed mighty Agrom aside as though he were a ragdoll.

  The One Voice looked at Logan once more and nodded her head. She walked up to him and raised her index and middle finger to his forehead, touching him just above the bridge of his nose. This was the first time the One Voice, or any of the spirits, had sought to interact with him so directly. And although he could not truly feel the Alamani’s touch, he did sense something. The gesture created some kind of bond between them. But why had the One Voice brought him here? What did it all mean?

  He glanced once more at the pale creature standing half in light, half in darkness. He recalled the fight on Tarsik and how the creature had appeared as soon as they had breached the laboratory’s inner chamber where the pillars containing the Navigator spirits stood. Logan had retrieved the three crystals Veiju Dhurlan had demanded in exchange for the coordinates to the rogue planet where Khadiem had been hiding. That was when the spirits came out of their pillars and invaded his body. It was also when the creature had attacked Beth and the others. Did the One Voice want him to return to Tarsik? Was there something there he could use? Did the creature hold the key?

  As Logan struggled to understand the One Voice’s intentions, another figure materialized out of the surrounding gloom. It was of a man in golden robes. At first Logan did not recognize the figure, then the robes were replaced by dark trousers and a dark suitcoat. Suddenly Logan remembered. It was Alahendrus in the guise of his father, though his glowing red irises betrayed his origins as a Geth. Logan looked from Alamani Navigator, to Geth, to pale creature. A vague understanding began to form in his mind. During his communion with Alahendrus, the Geth had planted the seed of something in the deepest parts of his mind, a place where perhaps only the One Voice could go. It was hidden there to protect it from Suvial when Logan communed once more with the Apollo Stone, for that was part of the One Voice’s message. In order to achieve complete victory, he must somehow recover the Stone.

  That was it. Communing again with the Aenor would unlock the memory of Alahendrus’ message to him but only if the conditions were right. And that message contained the secret of how to defeat the Sahiradin. Logan focused his thoughts on Alahendrus’ message, and though he sensed its presence somewhere in the deep wells of his subconscious, he could not bring it into focus. The One Voice would help him discover that message and act on it, but first Logan would have to reacquire the Apollo Stone.

  Okay. If I can somehow get the Apollo Stone back, I’ll return to Tarsik. But I’ll need to know why. I won’t go unless I know how all of this fits together. When I get the Stone, Alahendrus’ message has to be revealed or I won’t go. Understood?

  The One Voice slowly closed her large round eyes and nodded her head in agreement.

  And I won’t run from this fight against the Sahiradin. If Agurru falls, the war is over.

  The Alamani Navigator hesitated. She clearly did not like the idea of facing the wrath of her species’ warrior creations in the open field. She knew the odds and like the other spirits, she feared Logan would die and they with him.

  Logan sensed the One Voice’s hesitation.

  The only way to the Apollo Stone is through the Sahiradin. It’s onboard their Battleship, Havoc. Trust me to get us there.

  The One Voice nodded her head, though Logan sensed the other spirits feared this course. They had little faith Logan would survive.

  Help me in this fight and I’ll get the Apollo Stone. I promise.

  The One
Voice smiled and closed her eyes. Then she, the creature, and Alahendrus receded into the surrounding shadows.

  Chapter 52

  Running from your fears is frequently the quickest way to encounter them.

  - General Secretary Rodolfo Broussard. Opening Remarks to the First Session of the United Earth Council.

  Logan felt himself being pulled to his feet. Dazed by his encounter with the One Voice, he blinked hard several times then looked around.

  “General,” said Hamza, who was holding him up by the arm. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Logan pulled his arm free.

  “I’m fine,” he said as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “Let’s go. The Sahiradin will be knocking on the door and we have to be ready when they do.”

  He and Hamza hastened down the passageway to where the Tullan commander, Zish, and Agrom were positioned. Also with them was their Brevian translator.

  “Ghorla’s cancelled the attack,” Logan said.

  “We heard,” replied Zish angrily through the translator. “He’s lost his nerve.”

  “Longmire hasn’t issued me any new orders,” said Logan, “so I’m still attacking. I could use some help.” He looked at Agrom. “What do you say, Agrom? Will you join me?”

  Agrom rumbled a response. Logan looked at the Brevian translator, who said, “Agrom is reluctant to throw away his few followers in this foolish venture.”

  “What do the songs say?” Logan asked Agrom.

  “Nunuka ovurumadu ahastrallienda,” said the Grenn.

  “You no longer hear the songs,” repeated Logan before the Brevian could speak, relying on the spirits within him to understand Agrom. “Then tell me, what does your heart tell you? Will you and your Grenn hide under this mountain or will you join me in the open field?”