Press The Line: Ganog Wars Book 3

by Chris Fox

  "Coward! You began a duel before I completed the change. Have you no honor?" he roared, slashing at the air in front of him with one of his daggers. "Show yourself."

  He continued his breathing, growing a full meter as he took a step. A humming came from behind, and he spun. Too late. The blade punched into his back, through the armor and deep into his flesh. He roared, swiping behind him in a wild slash.

  Azatok whipped his foot around in a roundhouse kick, but found only air. He spotted a shimmer in the air, like heat. "Ah, there you are. Your little trick won't work any more. I can see you now."

  Fizgig reappeared, standing where he'd seen the shimmer. "It won't save you." She charged, launching a slash at his face, toward the other eye.

  Azatok knocked the blade away, backpedaling to gain room. He tried to focus on the change, seeking the great form that he knew would end this fight. She gave him no opportunity, coming at him relentlessly. Again and again she struck, and each time he was barely able to parry. He flared his lower nostrils, needing the extra oxygen they could provide. His fur was a mass of red and yellow and black, broadcasting his emotions for all to see.

  Azatok lunged, suddenly on the offensive. His first dagger shot toward Fizgig's face, but she dodged the blow. His second would have disemboweled her, but she knocked it to the side with her plasma blade. He began a third strike, but she was faster.

  Fizgig slashed at his wrist--the uninjured one. Her blade bit deeply, nearly severing his hand. Azatok's dagger clattered to the ground, and Fizgig scooped it up as she continued to press her attack.

  He staggered back, keeping her briefly at bay with wild slashes from his remaining dagger. She switched fighting styles, coming at him with both daggers. Azatok tried to adjust his defenses, but his wounds were mounting, and he knew he was slowing.

  He breathed frantically, continuing the change, and gained another meter in height. He towered over her now, but she darted in again, scoring his side with his own dagger. It carved a line of pain, adding to the chorus.

  He swiped half-heartedly at her retreating form, but focused on his breathing. He gained another meter.

  She never let up, stabbing and slashing. Somehow, he survived the onslaught. He grew taller, his reach greater. It became easier to keep her away, and he gained a brief respite to think. He needed to regain the offense, but it was unclear how he could do that, even now that he was in his greater form.

  Blood poured from his wrist, and the hand had gone numb. His back throbbed, and a thick flow of blood stained his fur all the way down his leg. Dozens of small cuts scored his hide--none fatal, but their accumulated damage a drain on his strength.

  "You're larger now," Fizgig taunted from just out of reach. "But you are injured, and slow. Time is on my side. Surrender, and I will allow you to live."

  Azatok saw red. He charged, bellowing his rage as he brought his now much larger dagger down toward Fizgig. She stood placidly until the very last instant, then leapt over his blow, digging her blade into his knuckle. She flipped onto his wrist, bringing the plasma blade down in a tight arc. The weapon sliced bone and flesh, completing the destruction Takkar had begun. His hand, still holding his dagger, crashed to the deck.

  Fizgig sprinted up his arm, but Azatok knocked her away with his forearm. Blood pumped from his severed stump, and from his many other wounds. Black spots danced in his vision, but he refused to be beaten. He struggled to keep Fizgig in sight, but she'd engaged her stealth belt, and he'd lost the shimmer.

  She appeared suddenly, at the edge of his blind spot. Her dagger lashed out, sinking into his calf. He roared, swiping at her with his stump. Fizgig rolled, away, coming to her feet on the other side of the area.

  Azatok limped toward her, forcing her toward the edge of the island. He launched a low kick, capitalizing on his greater reach. Fizgig effortlessly rolled under his foot, stabbing her dagger into the same calf. She tore a ragged meter-long gash in his leg, and he collapsed to the island, unable to support himself on the injured limb.

  "I will give you one last chance at the mercy you denied my people," the Tigris said. "Surrender, and I will let you live." There was no emotion in her voice, no hatred or anger. No need for revenge. This was simply business to her.

  "Never," Azatok roared. He forced himself to one knee, scanning for her. There was no sign of her, either because she was in his blind spot or because she was using the belt.

  Above him, the crowd had gone still. None uttered a word. Only the artificial wind broke the silence.

  "Very well," Fizgig whispered into his ear. She was perched there, right on his shoulder. He had no idea how she'd gotten there undetected, and no time to wonder about it. Her dagger tore into his throat, ending his ability to speak even as his lifeblood fountained onto the hot sand.

  Azatok collapsed onto his back, staring up in the direction of the apex island, a place few knew existed.

  Flashes of plasma came from atop it. Someone was fighting. No! Someone was assaulting the beacon. He had to do something, had to get word to Utfa.

  Azatok struggled onto his stomach, crawling toward the edge of the island. They must be warned.

  A soft hum heralded the plasma blade that brought blissful oblivion.

  51

  RESPECT THE TIGRIS

  Fizgig extinguished her blade, struggling to catch her breath. A stitch of fire lived in her side, one of the worst cramps she'd ever suffered. Her leg ached abominably. Worse, she was covered in sticky, black Ganog blood. It would take many baths to remove all of it.

  "Which of you wishes to be next?" she roared, looking up at the assembled audience. They stared at her, a hundred different versions of the same horrified expression. She'd killed their champion, and she'd made it appear easy, though it had been anything but. She sucked in a deep breath, booming her next words. "No one?"

  As if to punctuate her sentence, a deep whoomp came from above. She recognized the sound. It was the Ganog explosive, ferrogel. The crowd began peering uneasily upward, still uncertain what to do.

  A larger explosion sounded, and stone tumbled down from above as a part of the ceiling collapsed. Disks zoomed away as the crowd finally broke and ran. Boulders crushed several disks, only adding to the crowd's panic.

  Aluki's familiar cruiser descended through the hole in the spire, disappearing above the Apex island. She realized her companions didn't know she was here, and they were too far away for her to reach. Nor could she communicate directly with them.

  That meant they could not rescue her, but it didn't matter. She would finally meet death.

  She walked away from Azatok's corpse, sitting heavily in the dirt. Purring, she began to groom. At least she would die clean.

  Somehow, Khar had succeeded in reaching the beacon. Goddess willing, he'd be able to seize control of it. More explosions came from above, and the whine of engines grew louder. Fizgig looked up, her tongue still sticking out. Aluki's cruiser was approaching the arena.

  The external speakers crackled with static, then Aluki's voice echoed through the spire. "Mmm, hello there, Admiral. Would you like a ride to safety?"

  The ramp at the base of the ship extended, and Fizgig rose with a painful pop in her hip. She limped over to the ramp, where Khar and Zakanna were waiting for her.

  "Quickly," Khar called, sprinting down the ramp. He wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her up the ramp. She longed to push him away, but wasn't positive she could make it up the ramp unaided. Emotional and physical exhaustion were threatening to pull her under.

  "Release me," she snapped the instant she was across the threshold. Khar did as she asked, and Fizgig limped to the wall. She slid to the ground, her back against the blessedly cool metal. The ramp slid shut, and her stomach lurched as the ship began to ascend. "How did you know I was here?"

  "I spotted you when Zakanna and I were infiltrating the spire. Your fight with Azatok was broadcast to the whole Imperium, and it made an excellent distraction." Khar gave her a toothy s
mile. "After we destroyed the beacon--."

  "You destroyed the beacon?" Fizgig said, blinking.

  "It was the only way," Khar said. "The defensive force guarding it was too great to overcome."

  "We did all we could." Zakanna rested a hand on Fizgig's shoulder.

  Fizgig glared at her until she removed it.

  "You've done well," Fizgig said. "At the very least, the Void Wraith are free. Let us be away from this world." She leaned her head back against the wall. Once again, she'd cheated death. Perhaps she was destined to die in her bed, after all.

  She smiled, reveling in the fact that not only had she slain the man who'd burnt New Jaguara to ash, but that his humiliating death had been broadcast to the entire Imperium.

  Perhaps now these Ganog would learn to respect the Tigris.

  52

  NOT GOOD

  Burke leaned into the harness, triggering the mech's main booster. It soared into the air, vaulting the bug attempting to grapple him. Another rushed forward, but Burke sliced it in half with his mech's plasma blade. He slammed into his command couch as his mech was knocked forward from behind.

  The ground rushed up at the cockpit, then metal shrieked as forty-five tons of tritanium pulverized stone. A klaxon sounded, and warning lights appeared in the mech's right arm and shoulder.

  "There sure are a lot of these things," Burke muttered, flipping his mech over onto its back. A bug landed on his chest, thrusting its stinger into his mech's leg. It slid easily into the tritanium, and Burke realized that if he were a person, whatever poison this thing was using would have instantly entered his bloodstream. These things would be hideously effective against Ganog.

  Good thing he wasn't a Ganog. Burke seized the bug by its head and squeezed. The resulting pop triggered a gag reflex. Damn, these things were disgusting.

  At least he couldn't smell them.

  High above, the queen slowly approached the Demetrius, her long tail circling behind her, coiling for a strike. The Demetrius, as he'd ordered, fell back. A flurry of Theta cannon shots rippled from her aft guns, tearing into the queen, who shrieked as chunks of flesh and chitin were blown free.

  The queen spat a mass of gelatinous yellow goo that covered three of the Theta cannons on the aft side. She angled her flight to take advantage of the blind spot, dodging another volley as she moved out of the firing arc of the remaining cannons.

  She spat another gob of goo, covering more cannons. The goo began to spread across the hull, moving to engulf the next cannon. This only enlarged the blind spot, allowing the queen to fly closer. She was narrowing the gap with alarming speed.

  Burke had a choice: Try to save the doomed Nyar leadership who didn't want to be saved, or try to save his ship. He wasn't likely to succeed at either.

  "Alpha Company, disengage and return to the Demetrius. Looks like the queen is taking the guns out with some sort of adhesive goo. Let's see if we can burn that crap off."

  Burke leapt into the air, pouring thrust into all boosters. His mech rocketed toward the Demetrius, gliding around swarms of bugs as he rapidly approached. The queen grew larger and larger on his viewscreen. Swarms of insects--hundreds upon hundreds--flowed out from holes in her carapace.

  Behind him, the survivors of Alpha Company leapt into the air and followed into combat. They were economical in both their flight path and their use of ordnance, firing only when picking off a bug would shorten their route.

  "The swarm is aware of us," Burke said, dropping into a quick dive as a cloud of bugs moved in his direction. "We've got more speed, but they've got the edge in maneuverability. Full thrust. Let's outrun these bastards."

  Burke shot back up toward the Demetrius in a steep climb. He passed one of the bugs and the flame from his boosters roasted its wings. The creature fluttered to the ground, receding almost instantly as Burke continued to climb.

  He reached an even altitude with the Demetrius and tapped the magnify button on his console. The screen zoomed in on the cannons, showing the goo flowing over them. It moved like a self-aware creature, skipping the hull and focusing solely on the cannons.

  Burke blasted over to the closest cannon, whipping his mech's legs around so the thrusters faced the goo. He fired a low level burst, whooping as the goo boiled away. "Use your thrusters, boys. We can burn this crap right off."

  A deafening shriek drowned out all communications, then the queen slammed into the side of the Demetrius. Burke was blasted violently away, his mech spinning uncontrollably as he plummeted toward the ground.

  He took deep shallow breaths, focusing on his training. "C'mon, man. You've got this."

  Burke righted his trajectory, feathering his thrusters to gain more control. Above, the queen's stinger had punctured the ship's stern and now lay embedded in the metal. Her six legs had enfolded the Demetrius, crushing it against her thorax. Smaller bugs swarmed the vessel, searching for any way inside the vessel.

  "Kay, can you give me a status report?" Burke asked, voice cracking.

  "Not good, sir," Kay replied, forlornly. "The Theta cannons cannot be fired at close range without inflicting significant damage to the Demetrius. Even if they could, preliminary data suggests that the damage would be insufficient to cause this creature to disengage. I'd recommend fleeing, sir. This battle is over."

  Dense black smoke pored from one of the Demetrius's engines, and the Battleship slowly plummeted toward the jungle. She was going down, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

  53

  ONLINE

  The alien scaffolding supporting the Omega retracted, and Nolan took an experimental step. It wasn't at all like piloting a mech. Piloting this thing was as simple as walking, a beautiful interface that explained why these things had been so deadly. He was the Omega.

  He turned to face the battle raging over the south side of the city, where the buildings were swallowed by the forest. Hunks of debris rained from the Demetrius, as the queen sank her legs deeper into the ship. Her tail coiled more tightly around the stern, crushing several Theta cannons.

  "Major Burke, we're finally inbound," Nolan offered, starting the Omega into a trot. Every step pulverized a city block, sending a tremor through the forest.

  "If you're in a position to help, now's the time," Burke said, panting into the comm. "Is that thing operational?"

  "We're about to find out," Nolan muttered, moving into a sprint. The Omega shot forward, knocking buildings and trees aside as it closed with the queen. Thus far she hadn't reacted to their presence, though swarms of smaller bugs were already moving in their direction. "Burke, what's the status of the Nyar leadership?"

  "They stayed behind for a heroic last stand," Burke said. "We disengaged to help the Demetrius. It wasn't my first choice, but seemed like the best option."

  "I'd have done the same. We can't save people who don't want saving. Let's see if we can give you some support. Nolan out." He turned the comm off, and focused on the battle.

  He was perhaps a thousand meters below the queen, but she was getting closer as the Demetrius descended toward the trees. Smoke poured from both engines, and only the secondary thrusters prevented the battleship from going into free fall.

  "Nyar, this thing has a cannon in the chest, but I can't find any way to fire it," Nolan said, glancing down at the Omega's chest. "Any suggestions?"

  "You are not meant to," Nyar rumbled. The voice sounded like it was coming from directly behind Nolan's ear. "One of your co-pilots will fuel the weapon with their own essence."

  "Allow me to tend to this," Kokar growled.

  Energy surged in the Omega's reactor, pooling in a brilliant mass at the cannon's heart. It built for a precise three seconds, then a cerulean beam cut through the swarms and into the queen. Two of her legs were sheered off, and she released the Demetrius with a ground shaking shriek.

  Her multifaceted eyes fixed on the Omega, and she glided in their direction.

  "Looks like you got her attention, sir," Hannan
said, tension thickening her voice. "This thing have any defenses?"

  The queen spat a gob of yellowish ichor in their direction, enough of it to cover even the Omega. Nolan tried to guide Nyar out of the way, taking a big step backward. The goo adjusted flight, like a living thing.

  "Allow me, Captain," Yulo said.

  Nolan relaxed, allowing the master to assume control. The Omega flipped backward, kicking off a building, then landing behind another. It was the most impressive display of acrobatics Nolan had ever seen.

  He didn't have long to enjoy it. "Crap! Brace yourselves, it's still coming." Nolan shifted the Omega into a defensive stance as the goo whipped around the building they were sheltering behind. Nolan raised Nyar's arm to keep the goo from covering their face.

  The goo stopped a mere fifty meters from them, slamming into a glittering blue shield--the kind of shield that protected a Void Wraith Harvester.

  "Sir, I think I did that," Hannan said. It sounded like she was gritting her teeth. "It's like holding a couple hundred pounds over my head. Can't do this for much longer."

  The goo flowed around the impact point, trying to find a way inside the barrier. Nolan swept the Omega's plasma blade in a tight arc, burning away a section of goo. Several more strikes took care of most of it.

  "Barrier down," Hannan gasped, as the shimmering field disappeared. The last few wisps of greenish goo fell lifelessly to the ground.

  "Incoming," Nuchik called frantically.

  The smaller swarms had finally reached them, covering the head as they began gouging armor with their stingers. One slammed into the eye, piercing it with a stinger. That sensor went dark, adding a blind spot to Nolan's vision.

  He reached down and ripped a lingering redwood from the knee joint, to us as a club. Every swat knocked dozens of bugs from the air, clearing a spot around the face.