by Cheree Alsop
“They were just killed,” Ruck said. “So the Macsians haven’t been here that long.”
“Or they’re wiping out their hostages,” Gage replied. “We’d better hurry.”
He led the way past the winding tunnels. The pair used their infrared goggles because the Terrarians kept everything dark to protect their sensitive eyesight. Electric cart tracks had engraved deep grooves along the paths from years of hauling Trilithanium to the waiting ships. They passed caves stacked to overflowing with empty pods. Others pulsed with the light of the liquid Trilithanium that had been harvested. Gage knew from experience that if he removed his helmet, the air would smell of the dried gungum leaves which the mole-snouted Terrarians loved above all else and grew in the moist lower caves.
“We’ve searched two ships already,” Yukan said over the communicator. “There’s nothing. No plans, no communications. I followed Klellen’s directions on how to pull up their directives, and that’s blank, too. It’s strange. He said such a lack of information shouldn’t be possible, especially when they’ve gathered so many ships together without anyone knowing.”
“Keep searching,” Gage told them. “There’s got to be something.”
“Yes, Cap’n,” Yukan replied.
A sound caught Gage’s ear. He held up a hand. Ruck stopped. Even if she hadn’t heard it, they had both been on enough missions together for her to trust him.
“Finish this group, then head to the next,” a flat voice said.
Shouts rang out, followed by the high-pitched sound of laser gunfire and screams of pain. Gage hurried to the corner. From his vantage point, he could see the backs of Macsians as they mowed down hundreds of Terrarians inside the cave. The blue light of their laser guns streaked across the vast chamber, taking down men, women, and children.
Ruck gasped and stepped forward with her gun raised, but Gage caught her arm and pulled her back.
“There are too many of them,” he told her.
“But those people,” she said with tears in her eyes. “We need to help them!”
“It’s too late, but the commander told them to head to the next group. If we can get there first, maybe we can stop this.”
Ruck nodded with a determined look on her striped face.
“Stay close,” Gage whispered.
“Be careful you guys,” Vinian said over their communicators.
Gage waited for the two Macsians in the hallway to be distracted by what was going on in the cave beyond, then led the way past. Even in his atmosphere suit, he could smell the sour lime and dirt scent that came from the horde. The sight of the fallen bodies gripped Gage’s heart. He drew his knife in his left hand.
“That must be the next chamber,” he whispered. Just beyond the following corner was another closed double-wide metal door. In front of it stood four Macsians. An involuntary shudder ran down Gage’s spine. He had forgotten just how hideous the Invaders were.
The Macsians had brown, thick skin with spikes along their arms, up the sides of their necks, and growing from the sides of their noses and mouths. The spikes curled forward to make them look like Deluvian spiders, except uglier. The four eyes in each Macsian’s head were a different color. In his studies at the Unified Military Academy, Gage had learned that each eye enabled them to see in a different frequency field, but the infrared masks the Macsians wore said that they were unable to see in the dark.
They gripped laser guns in their clawed hands. The guns had baffled even the University professors who said that though the lasers were crude, their ability to cut through metal made them far more effective than regular rifles. Also, the guns only worked if a Macsian held it. There were military teams of scientists working to recreate the Macsian technology so it could be improved upon and turned against them. The Macsians wore breastplates, helmets, and leggings made of hide thick enough to stop most bullets. It made sharpshooters invaluable among the military.
“Aim for the neck, knees, or elbows,” Gage whispered. “Otherwise your bullets won’t get through.”
“Got it,” Ruck replied.
“Did you guys find them?” Yukan asked. “If so, wait for us. You can’t do this on your own.”
“There’s no time,” Gage replied. “They’re wiping out hundreds of Terrarians in each cave. If we don’t stop them, too many lives will suffer.”
“Terrarians never hurt anyone!” Hyra protested. “Why attack them?”
“Because they’re Macsians,” Klellen replied, his voice flat with anger. Gage knew by the sound of the Iridian’s voice that his scales were black with rage. He pitied anyone who got on the wrong side of the weapons’ expert when he was upset.
“The sooner we can get the evidence we need, the faster the Unified Military will get here,” Gage said. “Let’s go.”
He followed the wall in silence. Ruck did the same, placing her steps with care on the dark, rocky ground. The infrared goggles they wore still made it hard to see the changing in footing, so the pair went slow. Both knew the element of surprise was their best shot at pulling it off.
Gage lifted a hand and Ruck crouched near the wall, her gun raised and sights on the Macsians. Gage crossed the rest of the way to them. He was nearly there when his boot slipped on a rock.
“What the—”
Gage’s knife flew through the air and cut off the Macsian’s protest. The Foundling sprinted forward as the knife left his hand, so when the Macsian’s companions turned to stare at their gasping, wide-eyed comrade, Gage was already there. He pulled the knife from the man’s throat, spun and sliced through two others, then thrust the knife up through the base of the last Macsian’s chin. He lowered the man to the ground next to his comrades.
“That was smooth,” Ruck said, crossing to join him. “But you could have left me one to shoot.”
“They should be coming soon,” Gage told her. “We need the element of surprise on our side. Pull the bodies in.”
As soon as the door opened, the Terrarians inside crowded against the far wall. Gage took off his helmet.
“It’s alright. We’re here to help!”
“Pirate Metis?” a Terrarian asked. He took a hesitant step forward.
“Choku, I told you not to call me that,” Gage replied. “Gage is fine.”
“Pirate Metis!” the Terrarian repeated with relief in his wide, black eyes. “It is you! You haven’t come nearly soon enough. They’ve taken over Tanus. The Trilithanium mines are theirs. You’re too late.”
Gage shook his head, used to the Terrarian way. “There’s still hope, but we need to act fast. They’re killing off Terrarians in every chamber and this one’s next.” Cries of fear went up at his words. Gage held up a hand. “But we can fight back.”
“You can fight back,” Choku said. “Terrarians can’t fight. We are weak and pathetic.”
Other Terrarians nodded. Gage’s heart clenched at the sight of fathers shielding their wives and children behind them. Their dull-clawed hands and blunt, whiskered noses reminded Gage that they weren’t warriors.
“What do we do?” Ruck asked, coming up beside him. “They don’t have any weapons.”
“We’re doomed,” another Terrarian said.
“We don’t stand a chance,” Choku agreed.
“I’m not giving up,” Gage told them. “And neither are you.” He looked around quickly. “Choku, we need light. Lots of it. The Macsians are wearing infrared masks. If we can blind them, even momentarily, it may give us the upper hand.”
“A spark?” the Terrarian replied. “We have nothing that can make a spark. We are only poor, peaceful—”
“Can it,” Gage replied. “We don’t have time for that. We need ideas.”
“Isn’t Trilithanium flammable?” Ruck asked.
Gage nodded. “Highly. Do we have any in here?”
“Yes,” Choku said with the first hint of hope in his black eyes. “In the back. This is storage room one twenty-three alpha. We don’t use it often because times are tough and�
��”
“Where is it?” Gage asked, cutting him off.
The Terrarian pointed. Those in the way stepped back to reveal hundreds of pods of Trilithanium stacked near the back wall.
“How many do we need to send up a flame but not burn us all to death?” Gage asked quickly.
“Burning to death would be a horrible way—” Choku began.
“How many?” Gage nearly shouted.
“Six,” Ruck replied. “By my estimate, if we stack them in groups of three, I can shoot the bottom and ignite them.”
Gage nodded. “Choku, have your men stack the pods near the door. The rest of you, stand as far back as you can and crouch. Give them the smallest target possible. And remember to turn your head away from the flames or you will be blinded as well.”
Gage hurried back to the door and listened. He could hear footsteps making their way down the hallway.
“Where are the guards?” a Macsian demanded.
“The idiots will hang for this,” another said.
“That could be blood,” one pointed out.
The first grunted. “Or they raided the choloka. Looks like syrup to me.”
“Let’s get this over with,” a third told them. “I’m getting hungry.”
The doors pulled open just as the Terrarians stacked the last pod. They scrambled backwards at the sight of the Invaders.
“What are you doing?” a Macsian demanded.
Gage waited behind the door for more than a dozen Invaders to enter. As soon as the last one was inside, he shoved the door shut and shouted, “Now!”
Ruck shot a pod from each pile in quick succession. Gage remembered to turn his head away at the last second. A flame burst up so bright he could see it behind his closed eyelids. Shouts of pain sounded from the Macsians. Gage was on them before they could reorient themselves.
His body fell into the calm rhythm brought by his Foundling blood. Fighting became easy and dealing death became even easier. As his multi-toned blade found the first place where a shoulder met the neck, he felt the rightness of ending the terror caused by the Macsian. He pulled the knife out and spun, slicing across the neck of a second, then a third Invader. Bodies fell around him. Guns began to fire as the Macsians realized they were under attack. He could hear the answering shots from Ruck near the opposite wall. Terrarians screamed in pain. Gage pushed his body faster.
His blade bit deep into the next Macsian. Gage grabbed the arm of another and punched the ribs twice before throwing his elbow into the warrior’s kidney. He felt his stitches tear across his shoulder, but the adrenaline pumping through his body dulled the pain. When the Macsian doubled over, Gage grabbed the man in a headlock, then threw himself over in a flip that brought the Invader with him and snapped his neck. The Invader slumped lifeless to the ground.
Gage tore his knife from the other Macsian’s throat and finished two more. He felt the slowing of time, something his mother had taught him that came with his Foundling abilities. Though she had only been half-Foundling, and so Gage’s blood carried merely a quarter of it, his abilities from it had mirrored hers so similarly she had given in to teaching him how to fight because she knew it was what he was meant to do.
With her careful training, Gage had learned the speed that had been taught to her through the cruel punishment of her Damaclan past. There had been none of the blatant brutality and malice of her upbringing. Instead, Gage had thrived on accuracy and discipline to the point that he far surpassed his brother in the training. Gage had learned to draw on the Damaclan speed to help himself feel as though time itself slowed, giving him the ability to do more in the space of a heartbeat than most warriors could accomplish with a gunshot.
He took advantage of that now, surging from Invader to Invader with the stealth and accuracy of a deadly viper. The Macsians fell from strikes they felt only after the Foundling was onto his next victims. Guns partially raised discharged into the floor as they dropped from the fingers of warriors who hadn’t even seen their attacker.
Still unable to see from the explosion and hearing the terror-filled shouts of their comrades, Macsians fired blindly into the crowd. Blue lasers lit the black chamber and cries of pain followed until the last Invader fell at Gage’s feet. He stared down at the woman, her teeth bared in a rictus of anger as the lifeblood dripped from her throat. He pressed the blade to it, ready to finish her.
“What are you doing here?” Gage demanded.
“Isn’t it…obvious?” she sputtered. Her jagged teeth were coated in blood when she smiled up at him despite her obvious nearness to death.
Gage pressed the knife harder. Her eyes widened when blood spread.
“Talk,” he said, “Or I’ll leave you here to survive the tortures of the Coalition. Believe me when I say death is far kinder.”
The Macsian warrior looked as though she would refuse to speak, but she glanced to the left and right, viewing her fallen comrades.
“They are skilled with tauritic acid and a heat blade,” Gage told her. “Believe me when I say that if they do let you die, it will be slow and agonizing.”
“I’m not…afraid of death,” she said.
But there in the depths of her gaze he read fear. He knew very well what the thought of being tortured past the will to survive meant. He was loath to leave her in the hands of the Coalition as well. Death felt far kinder than the agony he had suffered. He wouldn’t wish that even on his enemy.
“Tell me what I need to know.” He kept his voice level when he asked, “What are your plans for Tanus.”
“We’ll use it as a base,” she replied, her voice weak past the rasp of her throat. “From there…we can hit every galaxy…in this system. No mercy….” She coughed, then forced out, “We are…but a thousandth…of what is to come. We’ll take…your planets and ships. All of them.”
“They’re just thousandth of what’s to come? With that many ships already?” Klellen repeated in his headset. “We’re in trouble. I’m sending this to the CUOC and the Unified Militia now.”
“P-please,” the Macsian sputtered. Her clawed hand gripped his glove weakly.
Gage slid his knife across her throat. He swore he saw gratitude in her multicolored eyes before her head tipped to the side and blood colored the tusks protruding from her mouth.
“G-Gage?”
Gage glanced to the right. His blood ran cold at the sight of Ruck lying on the floor.
Chapter Eleven
Gage dropped to his knees beside her. From what he could see of the green ooze that had filled the holes in her atmosphere suit, Ruck had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the stomach.
“Stay with me,” he told her as he eased her onto his lap.
She gave a moan of pain. “Cap’n, i-it hurts.”
Gage removed her helmet and carefully unzipped her atmosphere suit. When he pulled it back to reveal the wounds in her body, his heart slowed.
“I need Cisco and Sienna here right away,” he ordered. “Ruck’s been hit bad. She needs immediate care.”
“Yes, Captain,” Hyra replied. “I’ll send them on Gull Three.”
Ruck’s head lolled back against his arm.
“No, Ruck. You stay with me. Don’t you give up now. They’re coming,” Gage told her.
Her eyes fluttered. She tipped her head and her gaze focused on his face. “Y-you gave me a h-home,” she said, forcing the words out. The effort made her cough. She winced in pain as the effects racked her body. Blood dripped from the corner of her lips.
“Save your strength,” Gage told her. “Help is coming.” But it was there in her eyes, the fading light he had seen far too many times. Tears blurred his gaze. “You just stay with me, Ruck. You hang in there.”
She turned her head and a slight smile touched her lips. “Mom?” she said. Her head tipped against Gage’s chest and the light disappeared from her gaze.
“No, Ruck!” Gage pleaded. “Don’t give up!” But there, in the confines of a cave on th
e dark planet of Tanus in the Rorbald Spiral Galaxy, he watched her life slip through his fingers.
Memories of losing Vanessa the same way flooded through him until the images of holding her in his arms warred with the reality of seeing Ruck fade away. He clutched her body close and a sob broke from his chest. His tears fell on her lifeless cheeks. The Terrarians gathered around him. Sorrow for their own slain loved ones mixed with his heartache until he could barely breathe.
Screams and the sounds of laser guns filled the air.
Gage’s head came up. He met Choku’s eyes.
“They’re killing more of us,” the Terrarian said.
Gage lowered Ruck gently to the ground. He rose. “Not if I can help it,” he said.
He grabbed up Ruck’s guns, slipped them behind his gun belt, and withdrew his pistol. “Take care of her,” he told Choku.
The Terrarian nodded.
“Gage, where are you going?” Hyra asked.
He could hear the emotions in her voice. The realization that his entire crew had heard Ruck’s passing ate at him. He pulled his communicator from his suit and removed it from his ear. “Get out of here before the Coalition shows up. I don’t want you dealing with the Militia’s lapdogs.”
“But Captain—” Kellen protested.
“Go to Rendezvous Five,” Gage told them.
“We’re not leaving you,” Manax argued.
“Go to Rendezvous Five. That’s an order,” Gage told them. “Leave before the Coalition and Militia get here.”
He threw the communicator to the ground and focused on the sound of Macsians who fired into their hostages. He ran down the next hallway where the sound of laser guns echoed along the corridor.
Gage dove through the door without slowing. With six bullets, he shot six Macsians in the back of the head where their helmets failed to reach their back plates. He shoved his gun in his holster, drew both of Ruck’s, and emptied them into Macsians who turned at the sound of gunfire and began shooting back.
When one of the guns emptied, Gage dropped it and grabbed a staggering Macsian and held the man in front of him as a shield. The Invader’s body was racked by the impact of the lasers while Gage used the last of Ruck’s bullets. He shoved the empty gun behind his belt and drew his knife in one smooth motion.
