The Resistance- The Complete Series

by Nathan Hystad

  Charles came out at the same time, firing at the now moved Watcher. He was scrambling down the hall, and the android’s shot hit him in the leg, causing him to hit the ground. Charles ran to him, ending the threat.

  The sound of battle was over, and all that remained in the space was the echo of the repetitive alarm.

  “Charles, over here,” Wren said, staring through the doorway into the gym.

  He kept the gun raised but moved to where he could see what she was staring at. Inside were at least fifty people in threadbare clothes, malnourished faces gawking at them from a safe distance. Charles scanned them for Flint, but didn’t see him.

  18

  Ace

  “They’re taking way too long,” Ace said from his parked spot on the end of the dome.

  “Ace, I’m back. Where are you guys?” Oliv asked.

  Had it been fifteen minutes already? “Stay where you are. I haven’t heard from them yet. What’s happening out there?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like we’re almost done with the attack,” Oliv said.

  “Almost done? We’re winning?” he asked.

  “Their fleet wasn’t here. Our intel was bad,” she said.

  Or the Watchers’ intel was better. Oliv shouted something, and Ace’s heart pounded at the sound. “What is it?” he asked, worried for her.

  “Fighters, three coming for me,” she said.

  Ace tapped the console anxiously. He couldn’t leave her alone out there. “Are you charging the drive?” he asked, and she was silent. “Damn it. I’m coming!”

  He lifted off the pad. “Charles, if you can hear me, I have to help Oliv. I’ll be back, okay? I promise.”

  He raced away from the surface, heading toward the blinking dot on his HUD.

  “Oliv, run from them. Charge the drive and leave!” Ace yelled.

  “The drive won’t charge, Ace. It’s stuck at seventy percent.” Her voice sounded frightened, her breathing heavy though his cockpit. The EFF-17s had been modified with Shift drives, many of them quickly. He wasn’t surprised to hear one was running into issues.

  He was three minutes away from her position, and he went faster than he should through the thin atmosphere. His viewer burned hot as the snub nose pushed into space, and he leveled the Watcher fighter out. The other fighters slowed as he approached, thinking they were getting backup from the surface of the moon.

  Ace decided it was time to test Charles’ invention. “Computer, translate,” he said, the application opening on the HUD at his command. “Ober bids I finish the task. You will each be rewarded for your faith,” Ace said stoically, and the system translated the message, firing it out to every enemy frequency he could find.

  The three vessels stopped firing at the smaller Earth Fleet vessel.

  “Ace! My shields are at ten percent,” Oliv said.

  “Follow my lead,” Ace ordered, and she kept moving from him. “Arc around, head straight at them.”

  “But I’ll be killed.”

  “Trust me, and get ready to fire.” Ace watched as she did what he suggested. He cut the thrusters and spun the ship down, hitting them again to arrive at the enemy cluster before her. He gave them everything he had. “Fire!” he shouted at Oliv through the speakers, and slid to the side, exposing one of the enemy ships. Oliv didn’t miss.

  In a matter of thirty seconds, the Watcher fighters were nothing but scattered pieces, leaving Ace and Oliv alone. “Get to the Eureka. I’m going to find them,” Ace said, wishing Oliv had never been part of the backup plan. But the important thing was, she was alive.

  Serina

  “Where the hell are they?” Serina shouted to herself. No one answered. She watched the console screen, seeing three identical icons vanish. “Ace,” she whispered to herself.

  “There are only three warships left, and they’re retreating. Do we let them Shift?” Adams asked.

  “No. Release the EMPs and make them dead in space. There will be no salvage today. Destroy them all,” she said as half the fleet attacked the warships at the same time. It only lasted a few minutes, but soon it was over. The few lingering enemy fighters vanished from the scene of the battle, their destination unknown.

  Serina tried to figure this out. They’d been so sure most of the enemy base was here, yet such a miniscule force sat waiting. They had to have been alerted somehow. But how? Who? She considered Beck and his late arrival. Was there something to it?

  It hit her like a slap in the face.

  Earth.

  “Adams, open the lines to our entire Fleet.” He hesitated, and she yelled, “Now!”

  His forehead scrunched up in confusion. “Line’s open.”

  “Set destinations for Earth. Everyone Shift together and be fully prepared for battle!” Serina hoped with everything she had that she was wrong about this, but her gut was saying they’d been duped. Distracted so the Invaders could finally have their intended target wide open for the taking. Earth.

  Benson

  “What’s going on out there?” Benson shouted from his room entrance. He’d been moved a couple of days ago, but he still had a guard watching him at all times and wasn’t allowed to leave without a bridge crew member’s approval.

  “Did we win?” he asked the woman, who nodded. Something was wrong with her eyes. “What is it?” he asked, worried by her composure.

  “I…”

  “Just tell me, woman!” he shouted.

  “It was a trap. The Watchers knew we were coming. At least, that’s the theory. We’re heading to Earth now.” The woman held her earpiece, and her face paled. “They’re here. They’ve attacked Earth.”

  She ran down the hall, as if she’d be able to help somehow. Benson was left alone, clearly less of a threat than the Invaders’ fleet outside their back door.

  Someone had to have tipped them off. Benson had an idea who it was too.

  He hadn’t been to the bridge in a long time, but he knew the way. His legs protested the speed at which he pushed them after being cramped in a cell for most of the last year, but he managed to arrive at the elevator with only a minor twinge.

  A guard eyed him suspiciously. Benson opened his left eye, finding he could see out of it better than before. That was a good sign, but it wouldn’t matter if they all died. There was a secret about the Eureka, one Jarden might not have shared. If he had, maybe Captain Barkley would have turned the tides by now. Benson had been so distracted by his own imprisonment, he hadn’t thought to tell the doctor about the weapon.

  “I need to speak to the captain. I have pertinent information about the war.” He said it, and it even sounded phony to himself.

  “The captain’s a little busy,” the guard said, still standing in the way.

  Benson accepted how he must appear: wearing an old Fleet uniform and skinnier than a broomstick, with an unsightly swollen eye. “Look,” he started and bit his tongue, trying not to sound insulting. “Sir, I’m Benson, the former councilman’s right hand, and I have information about this ship that can help us fight the Watchers. She’s going to want to hear this!” Time was running out. If the enemies had swarmed Earth, there was only so much opportunity left.

  “Fine, but I’m escorting you.” The guard stepped to the side, letting Benson into the elevator. Red lights flashed inside, letting Benson know the battle for Earth had begun.

  Flint

  The next room over was open, and Flint entered, ready to attack anything on the other side.

  “Flint?” a small voice asked, and he shoved a chair against the door handle, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the heft of a Watcher.

  “Boss? You’re alive.” He stated the obvious, then saw the wound. The old lady was crammed into the corner of the other interrogation room, and the life was seeping from her eyes with each breath.

  “Come here,” she said, and he listened, keeping his eye on the door the entire time. “I have to tell you something.” She coughed, and her lips dripped blood. Her wound was in th
e stomach, a blast from a Watcher’s pulse gun.

  “What is it?” Flint asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

  “My name. It’s… Marg Urik. Otherwise known as Shadow.” She said it so softly, he had to lean in to catch it all.

  “You’re Shadow? The leader of the terrorist organization?” Flint knew they’d been hired to attack Earth cities, including the one his parents and Kat’s had been killed in. He moved away from her, anger seething through him.

  She gave a weak nod. “I’m not proud of my life, but we were only trying to survive in a solar system that didn’t give us hope otherwise. I don’t make excuses.”

  Flint had a thousand things to say but knew she didn’t have much time. “What do you have to tell me?” he asked curtly.

  “I’ve been held by them for twenty years. Twenty years. I’ve gained their ear at times. There’s a secret weapon no one has seen. Beware. Warn the Fleet.”

  Secret weapon? Flint had no idea what she was talking about. “What is it?”

  Her eyes were starting to fade, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. “Don’t trust Shadow. They’ll never truly work with the Fleet.” Her chest stopped moving, and Flint checked for a pulse, only to find none. He didn’t have time to consider everything she’d said. It wouldn’t matter if he died here, so he moved into the corridor.

  The halls were empty, and Flint made his way into a dingy room near the prison cells. He’d seen several guards come in and out of that room, and he prepared himself for an attack. He’d choke one of their thick necks if that was what it came to, but when the door swung open, he didn’t have to lunge. The space was empty.

  Inside he found a few dirty plates, surveillance set up, and… he watched one of the monitor’s feeds, and saw a huge figure stalking familiar hallways in the image. “Crap,” he muttered. It was coming straight for him.

  Flint slowly shut the doors, keeping the lights off. He scanned for a weapon, but it was too dark on this side of the cramped area. The monitor’s light glow spread across the far wall, and he spotted one of their large automatic weapons. He’d never fired one but needed to get to it before the hulking monster caught him.

  The door flew open. Too late! Flint kept his body against the wall, hoping his opponent wouldn’t see him there. The thing breathed heavily, spittle flying from his thin nostrils. The male’s chest heaved, and Flint caught a whiff of his musky scent. Against all his instincts, Flint attacked the beast with his hands.

  He was wearing a vest, and Flint’s hands slid down his sweaty arms as he tried to bear-hug the enemy. Instead, he only managed to give the Watcher a glancing punch, but Flint didn’t hesitate. He kicked out, hitting it directly in the knee, which audibly cracked at the impact. His foe let out a series of angry chortles and swung a long suction-cup-covered arm at him, swiping Flint’s legs from under him. He landed on his back with a whoosh of breath.

  Then the alien was on him, arms pummeling his sides. The only saving grace was the confined space. The long-limbed Watcher didn’t have enough room to move in order to gain momentum. Flint saw an opening and took it. He jabbed his arm straight up, catching just under the Watcher’s thick jaw with a fist. He’d spent enough time around Wren to have seen the autopsy results. They had windpipes like humans, and he took advantage of that.

  The Watcher stumbled, scrambling for air, and Flint took his opportunity. He hurtled the desk, grabbing the hefty gun. Without thinking, he pulled the trigger, which was large enough for his entire hand to press. A series of bullets raced out from the barrel, sending his arm flying back. At least a couple of them hit the Watcher, and Flint firmed his stance, pressing the trigger again as the alien climbed up the desk, trying to get at him. The bullets tore through him, and Flint let out a guttural war cry as his opponent’s corpse fell to the floor with a thud.

  Flint’s hands were shaking from the fight and the weight of the weapon. He wiped blood from his face before making a vain attempt at cleaning his hands of the red mess. He slung the thick strap over his shoulder and righted the monitor. “Where are you?” he asked, scanning through the images on the screen. There. The training facility.

  He found the lobby camera that highlighted the glass barrier where the humans were kept penned. He saw two forms near the entrance. Wait, were those fighter uniforms? He’d worn one himself, but they were a little short. He looked closer and saw gray skin through the mask. “Charles?” He wanted to run to them but was distracted by the camera feed beside him. Four Watchers, heading toward the android and his friend.

  Flint grabbed the gun and started to run.

  Serina

  “Where are they?” Serina was fuming.

  “They haven’t shown, and we’re counting over a hundred enemy warships, corvettes, and carriers. Twice that in fighters,” Adams said.

  She sat down heavily and ran her hand down her face. Shadow had screwed them over. The little bastard had pretended to be her brother and had set them up. He was working with the Invaders. How could she have been so stupid as to fall for it?

  “Why are the Invaders lingering so far away? Are they waiting for us to bring the battle to them?” Serina asked, curiously watching the zoomed image of their spread-out fleet.

  “We’re getting details from planetside. They’re attacking with fighters. All the Earth Fleet bases. Suborbital defenses are in full function,” Adams said, holding his earpiece in concentration. “New London seems to be their focus.”

  They wanted to keep the world, not destroy it. By ending the Fleet’s stronghold on the planet, then systematically destroying the Earth Fleet’s ships, they’d have Earth to themselves. For all Serina knew, they’d keep some of the population alive to work for them. “Slaves,” she said, wishing she had some water to wash the word off her tongue.

  “What’s that, Grand Admiral? We need to relay orders,” Adams said, and Serina considered the next play. It was a losing battle at this point. They’d put all their eggs in the wrong basket. She wished she was with Benson at that moment. She’d strangle him to death. At least she’d be able to see one thing done before she died in a blaze of glory. As it stood, she wasn’t going to have that chance. She felt a ghostly ache where her hand used to be, an unscratchable itch that always ended up showing up.

  “Stay where we are. We don’t have the manpower, but we can’t leave to regroup either. This is our world. Send as many fighters down there as we can spare, but keep a couple of squadrons up here for when things get sticky,” Serina said. They were going to need a miracle.

  Wren

  Wren had never seen a gloomier bunch of people in her life, not even in the prison on Caliban. They were all rail-thin; dirty clothing hung from them like sails in the wind. Most of them were far away, at the opposite end of the room.

  “How do we get in?” she asked Charles, indicating the energy barrier between them and the captives.

  “A key,” Charles said, and they began searching the dead Watcher. When they didn’t find anything resembling a key, the android went to the lock and fidgeted with it. “It needs DNA, it appears.” Charles grabbed the Watcher’s arm and dragged its immense slack body over to the door, sticking its hand to the lock. A sharp needle protruded, piercing the Watcher. The barrier opened.

  That was a terrible type of lock, but Wren knew it was probably effective. As long as they trusted their own kind fully, no one else could get in, unless they duplicated what Charles had just done.

  “We’re here to help you!” Wren said, pulling the mask off her head. Damp hair clung to her forehead, and she left the strapping on so the mask hung over her chest. The people were still hiding, many behind flipped mattresses, and she could hear crying from across the long room. “Come with us! We’re here to help!”

  A man’s voice cut through. “Behind you!”

  Wren spun, but it was too late. Four Watchers were entering the room, and they were angry. They shouted what could only be curses in their native tongue, and fired at will. Wren was running from
them and felt an errant bullet enter her thigh as she pumped her legs hard. Somehow she kept her footing and stumbled to the left edge of the room, behind a pillar, which quickly became rubble as the enemies used it for target practice.

  She couldn’t see Charles but heard gunfire. She peered around the pillar as the Watchers’ fire concentrated on something else. She took the opportunity. One of them was close now, and she quickly moved, pressing her back to the stone as it approached. She didn’t think it had seen her. Wren listened for its footsteps and braced herself. She had one chance.

  She crouched, her bullet wound screaming at her the entire time. She didn’t have time to wrap it yet, and likely never would. She darted out sideways as pain shot down her leg, firing toward the coming Watcher. He seemed surprised at the skimpy human launching out from the pillar, and her stunner froze him in place. She grabbed a knife from his leg and used it to cut his throat.

  Wren shoved the body down and took his huge gun, not wasting time. Charles was at the other end of the room, taking fire from the two remaining opponents. Wren saw stars forming around her vision; it was clear she didn’t have much time. Her leg was soaked in crimson, and she needed to help Charles before it was too late.

  “Over here!” she shouted, getting their attention for a second. It was enough time. Charles shot the closest one to him as the alien was distracted, and the android stayed put. The last remaining Watcher howled and ran for Wren. She aimed at him, but the gun clicked, no bullets firing from the weapon. She dropped it and took her stunner, and tried to walk away. It was too late. The Watcher would be on her in a second.

  “I don’t think so!” a new voice yelled, and she saw someone running up behind the nearing alien. Was that…?

  The newcomer fired the huge gun as he ran, and Wren ducked to the ground, her leg pulsing with every quick beat of her heart. Her cheek was pressed to the floor, and she saw the Watcher take as many as a dozen rounds in the back before flying forward and coming to a skid, ending a foot away from Wren. His eyes were dark and murky, staring straight at her.