by Juno Wells
She placed it on Hanson's desk. “I think I broke it.”
Hanson examined it. “Emergency power will do that. The bolt must have broken the sound barrier while still inside the barrel. But you shot one dragon and probably cut off their attack. One gun broken is a cheap price to pay for that.”
The base commander was a good man, Amelia had long since decided. But he was a civilian like all of them, and not cut out for military command. He was sometimes overwhelmed in even pretty simple battles with the Pirgks. She saw no reason to confront him with what had happened earlier. He knew as well as she did that if he had taken her recommendation, the six dead defenders would probably have survived.
Probably. If the dragons hadn't attacked the base itself. The way they had taken out the gun turrets, it looked like they could probably burn it to the ground in one pass.
Hanson put the gun down on his desk. “You have any idea what happened? I mean, why was that thing so interested in you?”
Amelia shrugged. “I honestly have no idea at all. It was like he ... just saw me and then came swooshing. Or maybe he saw Jean?”
“Maybe. We may never know. You and she were the closest ones to it. Could it have been a drone? Some kind of remote controlled thing? Or even some kind of aircraft?”
You are mine. I will come for you. Amelia shook her head. “No way. That thing was alive. No doubt about it. You can probably still see the drops of blood where they fell on the sand.”
Hanson nodded. “We'll collect any blood that fell and analyze it. Anything else you saw that may not get picked up by the cameras? Did it make any sounds? Did it smell?”
You challenge me! Amelia hesitated. For some reason she didn't want to tell Hanson about the things the dragon had said into her thoughts. That felt ... private, like something that was only between her and him and no one else. “There was nothing special. No smells. It hung there and looked at me until I shot it. Then it burned those Pirgks that were sneaking up on us.”
Hanson sighed. “That may be the weirdest thing about this whole extremely weird situation. They attacked their own allies. If they were allies. But that's what it looked like.”
The base commander looked out a small window. “I can't even begin to understand what happened today. I'm honestly stunned by the loss of six of our own. Burned instantly. By dragons. I've asked HQ for ships to evacuate us immediately, but the closest ship is ten days out. And that's just a small surveying ship. We'll have to try to survive for at least two weeks before we can be rescued.”
Amelia saw the commander's shoulders slump. He saw it as hopeless.
“We still have full stores of food,” she reminded him. “The biodomes are working at full capacity. If we can make enough ammunition to last us for the next Pirgk attacks, we stand a pretty decent chance of making it.”
Hanson kept staring out the window. “The Pirgk attacks we can probably handle. The dragons ... well, you saw what happened. We had two railguns to start with, and now we have one. I doubt any of them will just hang still for a shot the way yours did.”
Amelia got worried. Not so much for the base as for Hanson's negative thinking. “I think we can handle that, too. We know nothing about those dragons. They killed six of ours and five of the Pirgks. We can't be sure they're on the same side.”
Hanson took a deep breath. “I'm not even sure it matters. Okay, I have to set up some plans for how to defend the base against both Pirgks and dragons, it seems. I suppose we can cram everyone into the control center and hope the dome holds against dragon fire.”
Amelia left his office and wandered towards her cabin.
“Oh my god, it's the dragon girl!” a voice said behind her, and Amelia brightened as she turned.
“Hi, Daria. I guess news travels fast, huh?”
Daria came in close and gave her a quick hug, like always. She was Amelia's best friend on the base. She worked in the science section, but as part of her conditions for signing up for colonizing duties she had wrangled a part time job in the kitchen. They had bonded once and for all over their shared love of Italian food and ancient rom-com movies, and Daria's various pasta dishes were all to die for.
And now, her eyes shone in excitement almost like Bonnie's had. “The news that you saved everybody's lives and shot a damn dragon out of the sky? Isn't that the kind of news that pretty much has to travel at the speed of light?”
Amelia scratched her chin. “I guess. I don't think I shot him out of the sky, though.”
Daria slid her arm under Amelia's, like she always did, and they sauntered towards one of the accommodation domes. “Oh, really? Did you shoot him? Yes? Is he in the sky anymore? No? My point stands.”
Daria wasn't quite as curvy as Amelia, despite her job placing her in close proximity to the best food on planet Belzon. But she used what she had to great effect, swaying her hips in wide arcs as they walked down the hallways on the base.
“Well, I did hit him, I suppose.”
“You hit a dragon. My. Fucking. Stars. What was it like?”
Amelia took a deep breath and remembered the fear. “Girl, it was terrible. See, my hand is still shaking.” She held her hand out to show it.
Daria frowned. “That's supposed to be a shaky hand? I've seen more trembling in a cube of ice. Damn, you have nerves of steel. A dragon! Shit, I'd be so scared. I've seen the videos, too. He just hung there looking at you!”
They were at the door to Amelia's cabin, and it opened when it sensed the occupant getting close.
“He did. Except I'm not sure 'looking' is the word. More like 'stared'. Gods, you never saw eyes that yellow! I was sure he'd shoot fire and burn me up. So I thought, I have this gun. And he's pretty much just hanging there ogling me like the juiciest target you ever saw. He'll kill me anyway. So I shot him.”
“Just like that,” Daria said and plopped down on Amelia's moderately well made bunk.
“Just like that,” Amelia confirmed and quickly gathered a bunch of dirty clothes up from the floor. She rarely entertained in her cabin.
Daria fluffed a pillow and placed it between herself and the wall. “And you went out and saved Jean. You walked into the battle. Amelia, be honest now, I won't tell anyone: are you a superhero?”
“Yes,” Amelia said, stripping off her utility suit and realizing that it definitely needed a wash. “I am a superhero. I call myself ... uh ... Laundry Woman. I may work for Outward Expansion as a lowly clerk and live on a desert planet at starvation salary with my cabin full of dirty laundry, but that's just a carefully concocted ploy to defeat my arch enemy, the evil Doctor ... something. I can't think of his name at this time. But don't be fooled by all these dirty pants and shirts. I'm totally on top of it. Whatever it is.”
“I knew it,” Daria played along. “Only a superhero could do what you did today. Within like five minutes.”
Amelia smelled her bra, then immediately decided to get a fresh one. “Well, if I'm Laundry Woman, then you have to be Gourmet Girl. I don't know who you think you're fooling. That carbonara you cook is a dead giveaway. Only a superhero could do that.”
“That's true,” Daria agreed. “My carbonara is the shit. But I think your secret identity is out to pretty much everyone. You're legendary now.”
Amelia put on tight jeans and the last clean shirt she had. “While it lasts, I guess. Because if the Pirgks are now getting help from dragons that can incinerate whole gun turrets within seconds, then I'm not sure Belzon Base will still be here by the end of the week.”
Daria stretched her legs out. “Yeah? That bad?”
Amelia wished she could take a shower, but water was a prized resource on the base, and she had to limit herself to one a day. And she had already taken one that morning. “Looks like it. They're all badly shaken up. Even Hanson. Of course he didn't say that it's super bad. But I've never seen him this defeatist. He's requested evacuation. We can't really defend ourselves against what I guess are pretty much dinosaurs.”
Daria s
hifted her position again, clearly too excited to sit still. “They didn't look like dinosaurs to me. Weren't they huge, lumbering things with brains the size of peas? Those dragons seemed much more sophisticated. Like they weren't attacking because they were angry, but because they were doing a job. Like there was a thought behind it.”
“That's how they seemed to me, too. But it was so weird. You know, he-”
I will come for you.
And again, she didn't want to say it. It just seemed too crazy that the dragon had talked to her. “He was pretty magnificent up close. All golden and dangerous.”
Daria nodded. “And majestic. That's what everyone is saying. They seemed so majestic. You know, unconcerned and above it all. Elegant. I heard they couldn't track them at all with any instruments. Even here on this empty planet, where there isn't that much else to track. Nothing.”
That was probably classified information, but Amelia was used to Daria knowing everything that happened on the base. Everyone seemed to confide in her. And their personal secrets were always safe with her. “Yeah. I wonder what we'll do for the long term. Because those things will probably come back.”
Daria adjusted her hemline. “I'm sure the big brass will handle it fine. There'll be a memorial assembly tomorrow, for the six that died. But I don't know. I kind of want to celebrate that you found Jean. Imagine being held captive by the Pirgks for weeks! And they say she was raped, too. Repeatedly. I guess that's why they only went after women that first time. To breed them or something.”
Amelia got her hairbrush and pulled it through her lank hair. It didn't do much good. “You know, if I have a choice between being incinerated by dragons and bred by Pirgks, I'll pick the fire every time. Because damn, those things make my skin crawl.”
“And mine,” Daria agreed. “But at least it looks like you can survive them. If you're brave enough. Oh, and talking about bravery,” she said and pointed at the wall of the little cabin. “Say, I've never asked you, but I've been meaning to. And now I'm so happy to be alive I can't even tell if this question is too personal. But that frame on the wall there – that is a medal, right?”
Amelia glanced at the wall. “It was my dad's.”
Daria got up and studied it closer. “That's really nice. Gold, right? So he must have been brave?”
Amelia nodded. It was a story she both loved and hated. “There was a school that caught on fire. He was passing on the street and saw it. Just stopped his van outside, was told there were kids left on the top floor and ran inside the burning building. Five times. He brought out a couple of kids each time, because they couldn't get out on their own. While the teachers were just standing outside wringing their hands and watching the building burn down. He got them all out.”
“Damn. That's cool. So the government gave him that?”
Amelia shook her head. “The state wouldn't give him any recognition because no one is allowed inside the school without the principal's permission. That's the excuse they used. The fact that those kids would have been dead if he hadn't gone in was not important. They were just embarrassed that he had done what none of the staff had done. And it was a special needs school that was maybe not in the richest part of town, if you catch my drift. But the parents gave him a medal of their own. One they designed themselves.”
Daria took the little frame off its hook and looked closer. “It's a nice, clean look. Not too much text.”
“Yeah, they didn't know what to put on it. Like, 'thank you for saving our kids' didn't really work. So they just had it engraved like what you see.”
“Just 'For Bravery'. Yeah, that works. Less is more, as they say. And a little relief underneath with a man holding the hand of a little kid. Like a protector.”
Amelia felt the stinging in her eyes, like always when she looked at the medal. She took a deep breath. “The engraver felt it was a little bare with just the text. He wanted to add some kind of symbolic engraved image, so he asked my mom for a picture. She lent him one of my dad and me.”
Daria lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed. “So that kid is you? It's like a picture of your dad and you? And a bravery medal? That's just incredibly cool. I totally get why you brought it all the way here from Earth.”
Amelia turned away, determined not to give in to the sadness this time. “It's something to remember him by. He'd breathed too much toxic smoke, and he'd had asthma all his life. His lungs were ruined. He died seven months later.”
The room was silent for a moment, then Daria hung the frame back on its hook, calmly crossed the floor and hugged Amelia. “Girl, that sucks. But I can't help thinking, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You deserve a medal of your own after today.”
“Thanks.” Amelia squeezed her friend back and wiped a tear off her face. Thinking about her dad always did that to her.
Daria disengaged and sat back down. “Meanwhile, I've never needed a drink like I do right now. How would you feel about a little trip to Mac's? Just to make sure that his beer is still all foam and no liquid?”
Amelia felt the need for some relaxation, too. “Sure. I'll drop by the laundry station with this stuff, and then it's a girls' night out.”
Daria refreshed her lipstick in front of the mirror that Amelia had unceremoniously glued on to the wall in her cabin. “Damn right. Superheroes get drunk all the time, I heard. Or was that 'captured'? One of those. We've got the 'drunk' part handled just fine. And I guess with a little luck we'll find some villains tonight, too. Not too evil, though.”
Amelia smiled at Daria's shenanigans. She was exactly the kind of company she needed tonight to take her mind off the attack.
She gave herself a final check in the mirror. Same wide hips and chest that wasn't quite heavy enough to match them. But she looked okay. “Just evil enough to be fun,” she agreed and grabbed her bag of dirty clothes. “Evil and hot. Okay, let's go.”
5
- Braxan -
“That was ... unconventional,” Dacron said, glacially calm and smooth as always. “Have you given any thought about how to inform the Emperor of this little glitch?”
Braxan glared at the other Ultraco, then winced as Karox's curved blade dug a little too deep into his side. “Which glitch would that be? We did as ordered. Enemy defeated. Allies assisted. Back at base. There's nothing to report.”
Dacron's eyes glinted with amusement. His ambitions to take over leadership of their little flight from Braxan was sometimes a little too obvious. “Oh, I think there's a lot to report. Our glorious captain all moony-eyed about a human female. An enemy female, I want to stress. Hanging limply in the air while she shoots him with a damn arrow from what I can only describe as some kind of crossbow. Then killing a bunch of allies before he just takes off, leaving the job half done. Are you sure His Grand Imperial wouldn't want to know all about that?”
Karox shifted his grip on his crude scalpel. None of them were surgeons, but Karox was the best with a blade. “Hold still.”
Braxan grunted as the tip of Karox's knife slid along the metal rod she had shot into him, widening the passage so he could get it out. “Report whatever you wish. The Emperor was never that interested in tiny details anyway.”
“Depends on the detail,” Dacron mused. “If a detail might threaten the steady growth of his hoard, then he's usually all ears.”
Karox inserted another knife and got a weak grip on the metal rod under Braxan's skin. It was excruciating, but if he didn't die from the injury in his dragon form, then there was a good chance he would survive in his human form, too.
“Go right ahead and report it,” Braxan hissed as both of Karox's blades slipped off the rod and cut deeper into the flesh. They all knew that Dacron wouldn't. If he was going to, he wouldn't have said anything. For all his ambitions, he was not treacherous. Probably he was mostly content with the way things were, Braxan had privately decided, and his jabs at his leader was mostly because his personality demanded that he always test the leadership.
He was due for his own command soon, anyway, and wouldn't need to challenge Braxan for his. But you could never be too sure with Ultracos. If the dragon part of Dacron decided to launch a coup, then the human part of him would have to go along with it. They were all princes, after all. Their dragon forms were always the most powerful.
But so were their human sides. It was in the name, too: Ultra Draco. Extraordinary dragon. Among themselves, they shortened it to 'Ultraco'. The most powerful individuals of the most powerful species. Both wily dragon and fierce human. Both deadly.
“We'll see,” Dacron said airily, putting his feet up on the roughly hewn wooden table. “Probably the Pirgks will tell him all about it. While they pay him just a little bit less gold than he thought he'd get. How long do you think it will take him to get here? Me, I think less than two days.”
Karox got a better hold of the metal rod deep in Braxan's muscles, and he slowly pulled the dull, gray projectile out, along with a good amount of tissue and blood. “There is your bolt. A little memento from your Mate.”
“She's not my Mate!” Braxan shouted, both in pain and anger, and every object in the hall rang with his bass tones. “The dragon got curious, that's all. She didn't cower.”
Karox brushed the blood off the cruel rod and held it up to the light. “Which is why we all think she's your Mate. It's one of the surest signs. Your Mate won't cower and bow in front of you. She has the strength to stand up to you. Only she. You know this.”
“I know more than you think,” Braxan growled, relieved that the bolt was out. She had almost killed him. And that just made his curiosity stronger.
“For instance, I know that my Mate must be another Ultraco. No alien has ever been the Mate of an Ultraco. Not to mention the Mate of an Ultraco prince.”
Dacron smirked. “It opens a number of interesting questions, doesn't it, my captain? Especially when one takes your origins into account.”
