“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” said Shaaban.
Margaret looked over her shoulder and winked. “Is that so?” she said.
“Yeah,” said Shaaban. “I don’t think either of us has any idea how to pilot a shuttle beyond telling the V.I. where to go.”
She laughed as we strapped into our seats. I didn’t quite get the joke. We still had to escape a dying ship, fly through the fight which continued to rage outside and hope that we could make it somewhere that wouldn’t turn us in or kill us on sight.
Margaret looked at Shaaban then back at me.
“Then I guess if we make it out of this you three owe me,” said Margaret.
Chapter Eleven
Asel came in from the other room. The thirty or so human survivors from the Vantagax attack quieted their conversations and watched. She slid her feet across the floor like an old woman, shuffling from the doorway to a chair. Shaaban assisted her in sitting down before he took his own seat.
No one said anything. Some stared, looking past everyone at nothing in particular. A few looked at their hands or their feet. We’d been holed up in the living quarters of an abandoned mining complex for days yet no one interacted. They walked around in a daze, most unkempt and unclean. I glanced over at Shaaban, who shrugged, and then over to Asel who had her eyes closed. Her injuries had been worse than we’d thought, and she still wasn’t fully recovered.
“I’m glad that some of us were able to make it out,” I said. Everyone turned to look in my direction. I felt every single set of eyes boring into me. “It’s a small miracle that we all ended up in the same place, but we can’t stay here long.”
A murmur ran through the room. Margaret had directly beamed coordinates to every human ship she could. How so many had made it out of the battle either spoke to the skill of the human pilots or the sloppiness of Braxa’s fleet. I hoped it was both.
“If Braxa could find us once,” I said. Twice, I thought. “Then he’ll be able to find us again.”
Another murmur. Some sounded scared. I caught angry, hushed tones between a few. I could see their faces flushed with anger. Some picked at their sleeves or hem of their shirts, eyes down.
“I know we’ve been here a few days, and we can hope others will find us, but we need to keep moving,” I said, looking from face to face. “Does anyone know where the fleet may have been headed to?”
No one said anything.
I looked to Margaret. Her clothes were clean and crisp, hair and skin washed. She, Shaaban and I seemed to be the only ones who were using the facilities. Margaret cleared her throat and scooted forward in her chair to a point on the edge. Her forearms rested on her thighs, and she looked at her hands as she spoke.
“Our last orders were to go to Endemarl,” she said. “We would resupply there then leave. Once we left then we would receive new coordinates to meet the fleet.”
“How would they know you’d left?” said someone.
“We’d have to declare our next destination,” said Margaret. She continued to look at her hands. I could tell she didn’t like telling people she didn’t know where the fleet was. “We had a pre-set destination that we’d use. I don’t know how it worked, but the fleet monitored and when they saw our declared destination and that we’d left they contacted us.” She shrugged and slid back in her chair.
“So no one knows where the fleet is?” said a woman. Margaret avoided her glare, as did everyone else.
“Are we on our own?” said a man. His tone sounded shrill, almost panicked.
Muttering began to make its way around the group.
I looked over to Margaret. She didn’t say anything. “I think we have to presume that we are,” I said.
A few anguished cries went up. Some buried their face in the shoulder of another. I heard sobs.
“What do we do?” moaned someone.
Shaaban cleared his throat. “We have to think of a plan,” he said. “We can’t sit here and wait. The Vantagax will find us before the fleet does.”
“Why?” said a woman as she stepped forward. A man clung to her with his face buried in her chest. “Why do we have to leave here?” She motioned around. “No one’s found us. Our ships aren’t on the surface. We have plenty of food and water here. Why do we have to go?” She squinted her eyes and set her jaw.
“Because Braxa will find us,” I said. I could feel the hatred for General Braxa rising up. The memories of how she dogged me and hunted me with single-minded focus came back. My hands curled into fists so tight my forearms ached from the effort.
“Why don’t we just turn you over?” said the woman. “The Admiral Board said Braxa only wanted you. They warned us against helping you.”
“General Braxa sent his private army to Station Ter to search for humans,” I said, the memory of the Vantagax commander’s surprise that I was on the station popping into my head. “He knew I wasn’t there when he sent his soldiers. He sent ships to destroy the Terran Fleet, and I’d bet he didn’t know if I was with the fleet.”
I waited for anyone to say something.
“He’s advocated genocide against humans,” I said. Some in the crowd shrank away from me. Others nodded. “Do you think he’ll be satisfied with just me?”
I paused. No one spoke.
“No,” I said. My voice echoed off the walls in the room. “No he won’t. He will send every resource after the very last one of us just to make sure we’re dead.” I started to pace around the room. “There will be no hiding from Braxa, and if Braxa is gone there will be no hiding from the next Braxa or the next Braxa.” Anger started to cloud my mind, and I found it difficult to bring everything together into coherent thought. I needed to finish otherwise I would end up a slobbering, gibbering mess.
“I won’t let that happen,” I said. “I won’t be reunited with my people and have that torn away from me. I won’t let the Vantagax destroy us.”
My pacing stopped. I panted from excitement or anger or the exertion of being so furious; I didn’t know. The woman who had spoken in favor of hiding stepped back into the group.
“So what do we do?” said another person.
I swallowed and took a deep breath. Reading a room had never been a strong point of mine, so I hoped what I was about to say would go over well. The group seemed primed. I’d seen people agreeing with me as I spoke. I figured I had at least a few supporters.
“We fight back,” I said.
The room erupted.
Some pumped their fists and grinned or nodded. Others shook their heads and looked down or vehemently shouted their opposition. A few stood there and watched the others without emotion. They seemed to be on the fence, maybe unsure of what to do.
I held my hands up, trying to gain control of the room. Shaaban and Asel didn’t offer their support, but they didn’t speak in opposition either. Margaret continued to look down at her hands.
“We’re not soldiers,” shouted one man.
“Give the Vantagax a taste of their own medicine,” said another.
The voices piled upon each other. I couldn’t make out what individual people said. The din continued to get louder and more chaotic until I shouted for everyone to be quiet. To my amazement it worked the first time.
“We fight back against General Braxa,” I said. “Hit him where it hurts. Take out his way of making money. Prevent him from being able to fund his personal army.”
“The Vantagax Republic hasn’t condoned him publicly,” said Margaret. She looked up at me and slowly rubbed her hands together. “We don’t know whose funneling him money.”
“Others are providing money,” said Shaaban. “They have to be. When they lost the war a lot of people lost a lot of money and a lot of the Vantagax blame humans.” He looked up at me. “It might not just be Braxa.”
I nodded. Since my hearing before the Admiral Board all I could think about was Braxa’s war against humans. He was the face of it. He was the one who was willing to be the public face, but t
here was no way to know right now how many stood behind him. Separated from the Terran Fleet and its resources we may never know who else was involved unless they straight out said something.
But if we did nothing, if we tried to hide or run or blend in we would be hunted down like animals. This group was too small to take on Braxa in the open. The Confederacy wasn’t going to help us. They’d already said as much after the incident with Kaur. I didn’t think The Hive had the desire to fight Braxa. It’d help us with resources and intelligence but, barring a potential galactic wide catastrophe, it wouldn’t get involved in a fight.
We were on our own. We could either fight or be killed cowering in a corner. If we fought we might have a chance of surviving.
Maybe.
“How are we going to hit Braxa’s wallet?” said a man.
“It’s my understanding that his family owns a large conglomerate that has facilities scattered throughout Vantagax controlled space,” I said. The computers in the facility were out of date, but they still had cached business records. “As the head of it Braxa controls the purse strings. We hit the facilities. Make him spend so much money fixing them or keeping them running that he can’t fund his army. Maybe his family puts pressure on him to stop.”
“We harass him into giving up?” said Asel. She sounded incredulous.
“Yes,” I said. “We can’t fight him head on.”
“So what if others are funneling him money?” said Margaret. “It might not matter if his family has money if there are other sources of funding.”
I bit my lip. The “what ifs” could be endless, but I had to press forward. I had the attention of the group. Now was the time to drive it home that we should fight back.
“We have to take that chance,” I said. “If we don’t attack anyone but Braxa maybe it won’t draw anyone else into the open. If others are funding him they might pull out if they see we won’t be silenced so easily.”
Muttering filled the room.
“Or they’ll redouble their efforts,” said a woman.
“I know that if we try to hide we’ll be wiped out,” I said trying to keep a stern, commanding voice. I didn’t want to lecture them like they were school children, but at the same time I wanted to sound authoritative. It was a fine line I walked, and I wouldn’t know the outcome until the very end.
“Braxa has more resources than we do,” I said. “He can keep up the search longer than we could be successful at running.” I went in circles with my explanations. The discussion needed to come to an end and a decision.
“What do you say?” I said.
“We attack his facilities?” said a woman.
“Yes,” I said.
“Like a terrorist organization,” said a man. He almost spit the words out.
“Like people fighting against genocide with the only means necessary,” I said.
“Like terrorists,” the same man said.
“I won’t keep running,” said a woman. “We ran from Kaur and what did it get us?” She looked around the room. “We now run from the Vantagax and the rest of the galaxy.” She turned and looked at me. “I’m tired of it.”
The mood changed. Gloom lifted. Exuberant agreement started from a few sole people then began to sweep the crowd. If anyone had any doubts they were drowned out. A buzz of excitement zapped through the room. A decision was made.
People began to file out of the room in small packs of twos or threes. I smiled as I watched them leave until it was just I, Shaaban, Asel and Margaret.
“So we’re going to fight back against Braxa?” said Shaaban.
“Yes,” I said, turning to face the other three. “Are you on board with this?”
The three looked at each other. An unspoken conversation occurred between them before they turned back to me.
“Yes,” said Asel.
“I don’t think we’re going to succeed,” said Margaret. “They’re not soldiers.” She looked directly at me. “Neither are you.”
“We don’t need to be,” I said. “We just need to be competent.”
Shaaban shook his head and said, “I don’t know that they are. A few I’ve talked to indicated they had basic training in the reserves but most are civilians. They’ve got a lot to lose, and I’m not sure how many are aware of the consequences.”
“Seeing friends die, maiming, torture, death,” said Margaret counting off on her fingers. “And that doesn’t count what might happen to their families.”
My gut said this would work even if the logistics of it didn’t make sense, the odds weren’t with us and we had a group of untrained, unprepared, unready greenhorns. “We’ll make it work,” I said, hoping I wasn’t lying to myself.
Chapter Twelve
Shaaban, Asel and I stood in the undergrowth. Three other small groups of humans were spread out around the small manufacturing facility. It had been chosen specifically because of its remote nature at the edge of Vantagax controlled space and the fact it had a small work force. The Braxa family had set it up here as a seed facility meant to spur growth in a remote area.
“Perimeter defenses should be down,” said Fatou Bello from Team Four over the group feed. She had been an IT specialist with the fleet and was the only person in our group with that skillset. Her job was to turn off the automated defense systems so that we could get into the facility.
“Should be?” said Shaaban.
“Everything I’m reading says it’s down,” she said. Her voice quavered, and she kept smacking her lips like her mouth was dry. “I haven’t done this in the wild.”
Shaaban looked at me and spoke over our team feed. “This is the best we’ve got?” he said.
“It’s all we’ve got,” I said. My palms were clammy, and I found it hard to keep control of my breathing. My confidence in what we were doing started to fall. The dry runs over the past couple of weeks had gone okay. The former reserves were competent with weapons and tactics, but the practice had been in controlled conditions. That was why we’d chosen this place specifically because it was a soft target that should boost the confidence of everyone who had stayed with us. If we couldn’t even get inside the building there wouldn’t be much faith in our chosen path of action.
“We’re going to fucking die out here,” said Asel without looking at us.
“I’m one hundred percent confident the perimeter defenses are down,” said Bello.
The lights on the facility still swept the cleared area in front of us. Turrets moved along their paths, scanning over their designated swaths. I had expected some kind of visible confirmation that the defenses were down.
“Everything is still operating,” said Shaaban over the group feed. Frustration colored his tone.
“The sensors are off,” said Bello. “They won’t recognize you’re there.” She paused. “I think.”
“We’re definitely dying out here,” said Asel.
I took a deep breath in and rubbed my hands together. Someone had to believe in the team. Someone had to take the step to trust them.
Before the others could stop me I took three quick steps into the clearing. Asel swore under her breath. My limbs tingled, ready for action. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of my neck. I crouched, ready to try and dodge any kind of fire if it came.
Nothing happened.
The lights continued to track past me. The turrets continued to sweep the area. It was as if I wasn’t there.
“You should move,” said Bello. I jumped, not expecting her voice. “The camera feeds are still viewable.”
Shaaban and Asel broke from cover in a cloud of profanity. I sprinted towards the facility building’s outer wall with the other two close on my heels. Upon reaching it we plastered ourselves against the concrete structure.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything about the cameras?” said Shaaban.
“Sorry,” said Bello. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t part of the defense grid until you were already out in the open. The good thing is that they don’t
have audio capabilities.”
“Great,” said Asel over the team feed. “We can talk as loud as we want.”
I slid along the wall towards our target door. The sensors on the door should be off, and we could blow it open. The machinery in the facility would cover up any noise from the small explosion.
Asel moved around me and tore a piece no bigger than a chewed piece of gum off a malleable explosive brick we’d found in the mine supplies. She stuck it to the door pad then inserted a blasting agent before moving to the side and giving me the thumbs up.
“Bello,” I said, “are you sure that if we blow the door alarms won’t be set off?”
No response. I checked to make sure I spoke on the group feed. I did.
“Bello?” My heart raced. Something had happened.
“Sorry,” she said, breathless. “I heard you. Just double checking.”
“Respond if you hear someone ask you a question,” said Asel. “Otherwise we’ll think you’ve been compromised.” I could almost hear Bello cringing over the feed as Asel scolded her.
“Sorry,” said Bello. “Sorry. Sorry. I just –“
“Can we blow the door?” I said.
“Yes,” said Bello.
Asel nodded and the explosive popped. The pad burst apart in a shower of sparks and flaming bits of wire. The door swung inward as the sound of an alarm coming to life reverberated through the facility.
“Sorry,” said Bello. “I’m sorry. I missed the seismic grid. The explosion tripped it.”
“Fuck,” said Asel, spitting out her expletive over the general feed.
“Good news is that the defensive grid is still down,” said Bello. “You’ll only have to worry about the live guards. That’s good, right?” She sounded happy, almost pleased.
Shaaban shook his head, took the lead and went in, taking cover to the left. Asel went in after splitting off to the right, and I came in last moving to a position by Asel. They swept the room with their weapons. The production lines moved parts and pieces throughout the area, preventing us from getting a clear view across the facility to the offices. The factory sounds almost drowned out the alarm.
The Terran Shepherd (The Terran Series Book 2) Page 7
