by Chris Fox
"What about the Saurians you met, Nolan?" Burke asked. "Any chance they'd help us?"
Hannan was mildly surprised that the usual acid was absent from his tone, though she still bristled at his use of the captain's name rather than his rank.
"Aluki?" Nolan asked, redirecting the question to the Whalorian.
"Mmm, it is unlikely they'll take direct action. You must understand, Captain. These people are ka'tok. Garbage might be the closest word. They are raised from birth to understand that resistance is impossible, that they can never stop the Ganog. If you want them to help, you need to demonstrate comparable power."
"They saw us fight," Burke protested. "We killed dozens of their elites."
T'kon shook his head. "Ultimately you were defeated, and your fleet driven away. The Saurians respect nothing but power, and if you cannot show that you have it, then do not count on any overt action on their behalf."
Chapter 32- He Knows
"Sissus, attend me," Krekon roared, his voice echoing through the heavy cruiser's cargo bay.
Sissus reluctantly unfolded from the welcoming warmth of his sleep pouch. He staggered to his feet, blinking away the void. Unlike many species, Saurians did not dream. This allowed them to wake swiftly, an evolutionary advantage that had allowed his species to rise to prominence.
Before the Ganog had enslaved their world, of course.
He moved swiftly up the corridor, toward the cargo bay. Unlike dreadnoughts, the cruisers had a much more conventional floorpan. The vessel used small metal rooms, a much more efficient use of the limited space in such a vessel.
"I am here, Master," Sissus said, rushing to Krekon's side. "What is your wish?" He effected a servile tone, imagining his fangs around Krekon's furry throat.
"Prepare your pouchmates, Sissus. Soon, the hunt begins." Krekon sounded pleased, the first time he'd been civil since his meeting with Takkar. Something had clearly changed.
"Of course, Master. At once. May I know our destination, to bring the proper tools of death?" Sissus asked, oh so cautiously.
He was a worm. Servile, worthless ka'tok. He buried his warrior pride.
"These new aliens have finally made a mistake, Sissus," Krekon said. His fur lightened to blue-green, for smug joy. "We detected a warp signature in the south warrens. A small one, but it came from an uninhabited area. The ka'tok do not possess such technology. I have gathered the best of my elites. We will slaughter their warriors, and capture their leaders. Now ready your pouchmates, Sissus. And do not question me again. My patience for such indulgences is limited."
Sissus bowed low, scurrying from the room. As soon as he'd exited he rose to his full height, stalking back toward the sleep chamber. His mind raced. If Krekon was correct, and Sissus strongly suspected he was, then the humans would be unprepared for the assault. If he couldn't find a way to warn them, they were dead.
"Get up, younglings." He picked the pouch closest to the door, delivering a hard kick. It drew a surprised grunt. "We hunt. Gather your weapons."
All around him, Saurians crawled from their sleep-pouches. They gathered weapons, donned armor quickly and efficiently, leaving Sissus little time to plan. He had no way to communicate directly with the humans. He could get word to his clutch, but it would take them time to alert the Whalorian.
By then it would be too late.
Sissus stalked from the room, heading back to the cargo bay. His pouchmates followed, gathering well away from the Ganog trickling into the room. There were a dozen in all, each one of the finest of the elites. They carried an assortment of weapons. Most had standard rifles, though there were also a variety of melee weapons. Unlike Saurians, the Ganog elite enjoyed close-quarters fighting.
Of course, if Sissus could shape his body into a giant at will he might be more willing to claw and punch at his enemies. His people took care in combat, harrying their foes from a distance.
"Prepare yourselves for battle," Krekon bellowed, striding imperiously into the room. His armor gleamed, and he carried the legendary double-bladed axe Vkash's Vengeance. The weapon had felled an emperor, and had a history stretching to the beginning of the Imperium.
Krekon walked to the other elites, who chanted their salutes at his approach. The floor in the center of the room warped out of existence, revealing the ruined city below. A fierce storm raged, battering the buildings with a wall of rust and wind. It was the worst storm Sissus had seen in nearly a cycle, and would make combat brutally short-range--just as the Ganog preferred.
The ship descended toward the storm, the Ganog clustered eagerly around the edge of the gap in the floor. They were ready to leap into the fray, the moment a fray presented itself.
"Our target is that building there. Sissus, you will be our eyes. Find them. You may engage their warriors, but leave the leaders for me," Krekon boomed. He leapt through the floor, falling into the storm. The other elites followed, enveloping by swirling winds.
Sissus had no choice but to follow, diving into the storm himself. He was blasted by the wind, thrown from his feet as he landed. He rolled quickly to his feet, catching a pouchmate as she nearly tumbled to the ground.
When his people were gathered, they circled the building, hunting for an entrance that Sissus already knew existed. He took his time, circling slowly to the western face. If only he could broadcast his presence to the humans. Yet the voice of the storm made that impossible. It shouted past all other noise, drowning anything that might advertise their presence.
"Clutch leader," one of his mates hissed. "I have located an entrance. I believe it has been used recently."
Sissus moved slowly toward the ramp leading into the darkness. He knew the humans were down there somewhere, and he knew that there was likely no other way out of the building. If he led his men in there, the humans would be trapped. If he did not, he'd be killed--or worse, his secret ferreted out. Krekon was, after all, a melter.
"Kress, scout the hole, since you discovered it. The rest of you, fan out. Watch the opening from the the outside."
Sissus followed Kress into the tunnel, watching for an opportunity. Kress crept forward, pausing next to a fallen pylon. Sissus removed a pulse grenade, quietly tossing it at Kress's feet. He stepped behind an intact pylon, just as a bright flash knocked Kress into the air. The explosion echoed down through the structure, impossible for the humans to miss.
Sissus smiled grimly. He withdrew his comm. "Master, one of my pouchmates has been killed by a pulse grenade trap. They are aware of our arrival."
"Fool," Krekon's voice bellowed through the comm. "You've revealed our presence. Get your worthless hide out of the way. The elites will tend to this. Do not stray far, Sissus. I will take this failure from your hide, when the battle is done. I will pry your secrets from your mind, and if I find the treachery I suspect, I will devour you."
Sissus froze. Krekon never made idle threats. Somehow, he knew.
Chapter 33- Interupted
"So we have a rough plan. It's a bad plan, but at least it's a plan," Nolan began. They were all watching him now, the combined weight of their gazes underscoring how heavy command could be. "We need allies, so we reach out to the Saurians. We can have Aluki arrange that as soon as the storm passes. In the meantime, we start drilling in three teams."
"What are those going to be, Captain?" Edwards boomed. His robotic face winced. "Sorry about the echo. I'll knock a few decibels off."
"The mechs are too big to make it inside the mounds, so we go on foot. Sorry Edwards, you're going to be sitting out the first part of the assault."
"Awww, Captain."
"We've got a use for you, Edwards. The whole idea is to evacuate this rock--both our forces, and any allies we can rustle up. Your job is going to be securing the landing zone, so the admiral can swing by and pick us up."
"Okay."
Nolan leaned against the wall, pulling his legs up against his chest. Seeing a twenty-five foot mech pout made him smile. "Hannan, Nuchik, you're team one. Annie
, T'kon you're team two. Burke, you're with me."
Each person nodded as their name was mentioned.
"Captain, what about me?" Lena asked. She hadn't spoken since the incident with Nuchik.
"You're with Hannan. Before we detonate the control room, I want you to learn everything you can. If you can do some sort of data dump, even better. We need to learn as much as possible about these planetstriders."
"Nolan, if I could make a suggestion--" Burke began.
BOOOM. A rolling wave of sound rushed through the room, echoing endlessly.
Hannan leapt to her feet. "Captain, I recognize that detonation. That was one of their pulse grenades."
"Prep for contact," Nolan barked. He sprinted to his mech, leaping up the right leg. He didn't look to see what the rest of the squad was doing. He didn't need to. They were professionals, and everyone knew their job. "Kay, get the reactor fired up. Expedited start sequence."
He climbed into the cockpit, sliding his feet into the stirrups, and slid his hands into the gauntlets, tapping the left thumb to close the cockpit. The viewscreen sprang to life and scrolled through the startup sequence.
"Twenty-seven seconds until we're operational, Captain," Kay provided. Red dots appeared on the mini-map, a level above them. "I cannot identify the approaching targets, but I suspect they're hostile."
"Good guess. Edwards, move to intercept. Burke, Nuchik, sniper positions. Hold the fort until the mechs are up and running."
Edwards pounded through the garage, skidding around the corner in a shower of sparks. Nolan hated sending him in alone, but if the enemy hit them with their pants down this would be a very short fight.
He scanned his ordnance reading, drilling down to see the rest of the squad. They were down to less than sixty missiles, total. Every mech had at least light damage. Nothing critical, but it was exactly the wrong way to begin a battle with superior forces.
"Come on, come on," Nolan muttered, watching the startup indicator bar slowly fill.
The heavy whine of enemy plasma weaponry sounded above, followed by the staccato of rapid missile detonations. He needed to get up there. Now.
Chapter 34- Think like the Captain
Edwards skidded around the corner, coming up short next to a toppled pillar. "Uh, Captain, you're not gonna like the look of this," he said into his comm. "I've got a pack of them lizard aliens, but they're backed up by the armored apes. I count, uh, eleven so far."
Plasma flowed from the reactor to his cannon, superheating the particles within. Edwards raised the weapon at the lizards, squeezing off a low-intensity shot. It scattered them into the shadows, but the little bastards moved quickly enough to dodge.
The lead ape bellowed something in a weird language, then raised a sword with a much thicker blade than Edwards had ever seen. Part of him itched to ignite his plasma sword, but he knew Hannan would yell at him. He needed to kill these guys quick, and didn't have time for a duel.
"Wait for it," Edwards muttered to himself. He let the ape get about forty meters closer, then shot him in the face. The ape wore a comically puzzled expression, right up until its face melted off. Its sword clattered to the ferrocrete, echoing loudly.
That sent the rest of the apes into a frenzy. They charged forward, several bringing ranged weapons to bear. They fired a volley from their stocky black rifles, peppering Edwards with scarlet plasma fire. He fell back, plastering himself against the wall to minimize his profile. "Captain, I've taken some hits. There's a lot of these guys. I don't think I'm going to be able to keep 'em busy all that long. You'd better get moving."
"Acknowledged. Do what you can to slow them, corporal." The captain's voice was calm, helping Edwards focus. He wasn't all that bright, and he knew it. But he was better than most when it came to a scrap like this.
"Yes, sir." Edwards sprinted down the ramp, dropping into cover next to a rusted vehicle. The mob of apes came around the corner, yelling and screeching in their bizarre language.
He commanded the mech to fire a full spread of piranha missiles, fully half his ordnance in one shot. Hannan would have called the move reckless, but in situations like this he found big explosions were quite helpful.
The missiles corkscrewed toward the enemy, breaking into dozens of smaller missiles a few meters from their targets. Explosions bloomed up around each other, becoming an impenetrable wall of fire. Edwards instinctively raised an arm to protect his face, a holdover from his days as a flesh-and-blood soldier.
The flames died down to scattered fires, the stone glazed black with superheated ash. Two charred forms lay near the center of the explosion, but the rest of the apes were still moving. If they'd looked pissed before, now they were positively rabid.
"Oh, shit." Edwards leapt to his feet, sprinting deeper into the garage. The captain was one level below, and he needed to keep the Ganog from going down there before they were ready. He paused to yell at the pursuing apes: "Yeah, that's right. I killed yer buddies. What are you gonna do about it?"
He sprinted into the darkness, his floodlights banishing shadows. The far wall was coming up fast, no more than thirty meters ahead. There was no more room to run. Edwards skidded to a halt, putting his back to the wall.
The apes charged through the darkness, their faces twisted and bestial. Edwards was at a loss. There was still a whole mess of them. There was nowhere to run. No bottleneck to limit their approach. How the hell was he going to deal with this? What would the captain do?
Edwards squeezed off a shot from his rifle, but the Ganog dodged to the right. His missiles had finished loading, but he only had a single volley. That might kill a few, but it wasn't going to stop them all. Unless you were the captain. He'd find a way to take them all out. Or most of them at least.
The garage shook from an explosion below. Rust showered Edwards. He looked up.
That was what the captain would do.
Edwards took a step toward the apes. "Come and get me, you hairy bastards. You don't scare me."
A pack of apes outpaced the others, leaping at Edwards. He fired every missile he had left, directly at the ceiling. The explosions peppered them all with shrapnel, and a moment later the levels above came crashing down on them all.
Chapter 35- Duel
Nolan's engine rumbled to life, and he guided the mech into a lumbering run. Hannan was already moving, but Annie was a little behind. He considered waiting, but there wasn't time. Edwards was dealing with the whole assault force, and they needed to relieve him before he got himself into real trouble.
He passed Burke and Nuchik, who'd taken cover behind one of the many pillars. Both had rifles out, with clear lines of fire to the ramp leading to the next level. Even a single elite would wipe them out. "Annie, stay with Burke and Nuchik. Hold the line. T'kon, you with us?"
T'kon stood behind them all. His fur was a mixture of yellow and black. Conflicted emotions, maybe? "I am with you, Captain." His nostrils flared, and he began a series of deep, rapid breaths. Then he began to grow. Muscles swelled, and his armor grew to fit his increased size.
Nolan had suspected that T'kon could shift, but the confirmation couldn't have come at a better time. They needed all the help they could get.
He kept his mech moving, rounding the corner to the next level. Hannan was unloading a salvo from her particle cannon. It caught one of the elites in the back of the knee, severing the leg.
The largest and fastest elites were charging after Edwards into the far corner of the garage. They surrounded his mech, riddling it with plasma shots. Edwards ignored them, calmly aiming his missile tubes at the ceiling above him.
Nolan's mouth went dry. He urged his mech to greater speed, but he already knew it was too late. "Edwards, no!"
The missiles detonated, sending a wave of fire and debris in all directions. The garage shook, and Nolan's mech was thrown to the ground. His sensors were blotted out by the heat, and when they cleared, he growled wordlessly.
The roof above Edwards had collaps
ed, burying him and several elites under many tons of rubble. Seven surviving elites turned in Nolan's direction. He charged.
"You hairy bitches are gonna pay!" Hannan roared. Her missile tubes opened, and a dozen missiles corkscrewed into the enemy. The missiles detonated around two of the elites, flinging their bodies backward. They were near the ramp to the level above, which gave the flames a way to vent. By some miracle, no more of the ceiling caved in.
Nolan reversed course, servos grinding as he moved away. The five surviving elites were closing the gap quickly. Nolan took a half-step back, charging his particle cannon. He unleashed a shot at the closest elite, catching him in the shoulder. The shot arrested the elite's movement, giving Nolan a split second to ignite the plasma knife on his mech's right wrist.
He glided forward, ramming the blade into the elite's throat. It sliced through the armor, punching out the Ganog's neck in a spray of blood. Nolan brought up his mech's knee, slamming it into the elite's groin, then pivoted, using the dying elite to block a barrage of plasma from two more elites.
Hannan opened up with her particle cannon, driving those two back into cover. Another pair rushed her from the side, but T'kon stepped silently behind the one on the right. He brought his axe down in a humming arc, severing the elite's head.
The surviving elite tackled Hannan's mech, slamming it into a pillar. The pillar cracked, exposing something similar to rebar. Hannan grappled with the elite, fighting for control.
Nolan didn't have time to respond. Three Ganog were closing in, all wielding melee weapons. Nolan flung the dead elite at the pair on the right, then charged the one on the left. This one moved differently from the others, more fluidly. His eyes bore an unwavering intensity--not hatred, just pure focus.
He was larger than the other elites, and carried a wicked-looking axe in one hand. His armor was more elaborate than the others' as well, with stylized golden sigils covering the edge of the shoulders. He stalked closer, moving with the kind of grace Nolan had only seen from masters like Fizgig.
