Resolute Victory (The War for Terra)

by James Prosser

  “You’re talking about the Alliance?” Chang asked. The creature nodded, the long white hairs scraping softly against the robe. “We need the Alliance, though. We could never take Earth without help.”

  “He sees the weapon he has created as an instrument to bring about the change you seek without having to rely on others,” the elf continued. “Banu Rao believes his actions will force the Ch’Tauk to withdraw from Terra in a single, terrible, instant. Their own need to protect themselves and restart their society will force them to withdraw. He will bring about the return of your planet with the destruction of theirs.”

  “And you know this?” Chang said, wondering about this new power they seemed to have. “You can communicate with someone who is there?”

  “We are one,” the creature said simply.

  “You must be in contact with one of your own on board Sweet Liberty,” Chang surmised. “Can you tell if Resolute is still alive?”

  “Your ships are intact, but damaged,” the creature replied, gliding closer to Chang. “They are repairing damage and pursuing Rao between the universes. He needs time to recharge his weapon.”

  “He’s going straight to the heart of the Empire, isn’t he?” Chang asked.

  “We do not have eyes on that ship to be sure, but yes, he is going to attack the Ch’Tauk Empress directly.”

  “If he’s already destroyed the monastery world, they will be on alert and readying their forces,” Chang said, tapping keys to bring up a tactical display. “They’ll tighten up defenses around Earth.”

  “We do not think they will,” the creature replied. “We believe they will attempt to hide their weakness from the galaxy. Their priests are still alive and in need of help. They will divert some of their forces to rescue the survivors. They are also awaiting the arrival of the new Emperor Ch’Tauk. Your opponent is not as strong as you believe, Admiral.”

  Chang paused and stared at the little creature. The pieces had just reorganized themselves on the table. His mind raced to understand the importance of the new information. Hope flared in him where before despair was creeping in. Resolute and its commander were still alive and that meant they had a chance. If Pearce could stop Victory before they fired the weapon, they could stop the war without committing genocide. If he could not, the Ch’Tauk would be just like they are today, alone and struggling to take back their empire. Retaking Earth would be quicker if the enemy was distracted with celebrations and rescues. Hope began to spread across Chang’s face.

  “Can you communicate with the Vadne?” Chang asked, fanning the flames inside. “We lost contact with Terran hope and the Vadne fleet.”

  “There is much violence there,” the elf replied. “We cannot find ourselves in the chaos.”

  The Vadne had become the Alliance’s strongest members over the last two years. Chang had come to rely on them for their counsel as well as their patrol ships. He had asked their leader once about why they did not come when the Confederacy was attacked. His answer explained more about why the Confederacy had fallen. He had told Chang how the Vadne felt humanity had become arrogant and condescending. The Terran Confederacy relegated non-humans to support positions in their fleets and their government. By the time the call for assistance had come to Vadne, the felinoids had already decided to pull out and protect their own world. The Alliance promised a partnership based on need and respect and that was enough for the big cats.

  “Captain Pearce is one of the most capable and innovative commanders I have ever met,” Chang responded. “If he can’t stop Rao before that man reaches the Ch’Tauk home world, it can’t be done.”

  “If we feel the violence becomes too much,” the elf replied. “We will intervene.”

  Admiral Chang paused in mid reply. The diminutive creatures had seemed intelligent, but harmless up until then. There was something in the subtle tone of the elf’s voice which sent a shiver up the admiral’s back. It was a threat, but one backed up by power and intent older than Chang could believe. He tried to compose himself and ask a question worthy of the threat but failed. He finally spoke the words he had been about to utter, knowing there was little else he could say.

  “Intervene?” Chang asked. “I don’t understand. I thought your people hated violence.”

  “We neither hate nor love, Admiral.” It said. “We intervene when it is necessary. We have a … history with the Ch’Tauk. It gives us perspective on your battles. If the violence becomes too overwhelming, we will intervene. We have let too many lives be taken and it is our responsibility.”

  Chang again paused before replying. He began to suspect a deeper motive to the elves statement and became even more frightened by their implication. Comprehension crept into his mind. They were suggesting power over life and death. A flicker of thought crossed his mind about the origins of the war itself. Every statement this creature made begged more questions. He was about to start asking when the comm on his desk chimed. An excited voice blared from the little speaker.

  “Admiral!” Lellda’s voice came. “We’re receiving a signal!”

  “Is it Ortiz or Resolute?” Chang asked, stepping towards the small alien who had begun to back away. “Have you heard from the Vadne?”

  “Negative, sir,” Lellda replied, still excited. “It’s from Earth.”

  Chang looked up sharply at Lira. Both men knew the time had come. The next order would either exile the survivors to an eternity of waiting or commend them to a bloody battle. He looked back to the elf to see the creature had vanished. It was a talent they had shown for years when the Ch’Tauk were hunting them.

  “What does it say, Ensign?” Chang asked.

  “No words, sir,” Lellda replied. “Only a symbol.”

  “Send it through to my display,” Chang ordered, turning to the projection table in the center of the room.

  The tactical display flickered and was replaced by an odd sight. It was a tall mast with a vertical rectangle on its top. Three circular lenses dotted the box. Chang had seen the symbol when it had been programmed nearly a year before. It was something from Earth’s past. Lee Pearce had been the one to suggest the symbol and it came from his love of ancient ground cars. The lens at the bottom began to glow green. There was a mix of anxiety and relief in Chang’s mind. He saw the dark crest rise on Captain Lira’s head. The emerald light bathed the room in color before Chang turned back to the console.

  “Ensign Lellda,” Chang ordered. “Signal the fleet. We’re moving out.”

  “Aye sir,” Lellda’s voice returned. “Coordinates for the jump?”

  “Set course for Earth,” Chang replied, hearing himself say the words he had dreamed of. “We’re going home.”

  22

  Alliance Transport Terran Hope

  Alfredo Ortiz had commanded an assault cruiser as a younger man. He had engaged in several major battles and seen combat up close and personal. When the Ch’Tauk had attacked the Vadne home world, he had expected the battle to be short, and his own ship, a modified cruise vessel, to be protected from the battle. The Vadne fleet had mobilized and responded to the small incursion with overwhelming force. Ortiz had begun to offload the refugees from Perigee station when the second wave of Ch’Tauk erupted from the blue-brown vortex of M-space.

  Vadne ships had streamed up from the surface to bolster the defenses, but the Ch’Tauk kept coming. Terran Hope had lowered itself into the upper atmosphere of the felinoid planet to avoid direct attacks. The Ch’Tauk swarmed around them, however, beating the big cruise ship back up into space with smaller attacks. So far, the dreadnought class ships that had proven so deadly in the past had not made an appearance and Ortiz had to wonder why not. The attack on the allied race seemed to follow the pattern, except the big ships were not present.

  A jolt ran through the deck as another round of plasma fire struck the wide landing bay of the ship. For some reason, the enemy had been focusing much of the attack on the closed doors of the bay. It was not a tactic he had ever seen them use b
efore and it worried him. The attack style was far more daring and brutal than past encounters. Their flight patterns, usually predictable and orderly, were now scattered and erratic. The Ch’Tauk, normally cautious and with overwhelming numbers, were now attacking like human pilots, straying from the formations and attacking as single fighters and not in the standard four ship pattern. It reminded him of the squadrons he had flown with years ago.

  “Captain!” Kama Yu’s voice erupted from the communications station. “The Ch’Tauk have broken through the pressure doors!”

  “Seal off the hangar deck,” Ortiz instructed. “Lock down the airlocks and move the passengers into the center of the ship.”

  “Aye, sir,” Yu replied.

  The young woman stayed cool under the barrage of plasma fire, but Ortiz could tell the strain was getting to her. She was not trained as a combat officer and the idea that the ship was being boarded had to be terrifying. Ortiz’ first officer, Godfrey Rowling, lay on the floor near the upper deck rail, bleeding from a wound to his head. Ortiz had called below for the doctor, but so far none had come. He did not have the time to check on the man for more than a glance and hoped he was just unconscious.

  “Turn the bow towards the planet,” Ortiz said. “Let’s see if we can make them go the long way.”

  The strain on the ship’s engines could be felt through the deck as the ship turned in battle. Taxed well beyond their design specs, the power relays were blowing out all over the ship. The elves had upgraded the shield system as far as the technology could go, but the ship had never been meant to enter a battle like this one. Ortiz began to suspect he wasn’t either.

  “Sir, the Ch’Tauk have breached the bay,” Kama shouted over the din. “We have fighters in the landing bay.”

  “Is security in position?” the captain asked, frantically trying to think of a solution. “Tell them to stay behind the airlocks in case the Ch’Tauk use weapons and blast inside.”

  The feeling of uselessness he had always felt as a captain began to spread over Alfredo again. He could issue orders and command others, but he could only stand and watch as his ship was invaded. It was the reason he had preferred to be a pilot when he was younger. At least in the cockpit of a fighter, he felt he was making a difference. On the bridge of a ship he directed and supervised, but had no buttons to push and no guns to fire.

  A flash of pale skin drew his attention as Doctor Reeves rushed up the ramp to Rowling’s side. The doctor was covered in soot and dried blood. Below decks, the passengers must have been getting battered by the attack. The doctor had a large staff, primarily Vadne and Tonal nurses and doctors who were shepherding the refugees to their new home. Reeves had become more stable during the last two years, finally giving up his addictions. The man opened his bag and began to check out the first officer.

  “Security reports the Ch’Tauk have gained access to the airlock, sir,” Kama reported, panic beginning to creep into her smooth voice. “They’re inside the corridors.”

  “What the hell are they doing?” Ortiz asked himself. “Ch’Tauk don’t board ships, they destroy them. Kama, make sure the passengers are locked down. Give the kids guns if you have to, just make sure they are okay.”

  “Passengers are secure, sir.” Yu replied. “We’ve closed pressure doors and sealed the systems leading into that section. We’ll have a hell of a time getting them out, but they’ll be safe from the enemy.”

  Ortiz leapt from his seat and ran to the large, glass walled office behind him. He raced into the room to open a panel on the wall. Palming the access switch, the panel opened to reveal a small-weapons locker. Ortiz pulled out several hand pistols. They were an older model and used to deter rather than kill, but it was all they had on the bridge. Alfredo returned to the bridge and tossed the pistols to his crew. Reeves waved off the attempt, still trying to revive Rowling.

  There was a blast from below that sent Reeves tumbling across the floor. Rowling had begun to stir and the jolt forced him to grip the floor to keep steady. Ortiz gripped the arm rails tight. He could smell melting metal from somewhere and wondered if one of the control consoles had begun to burn.

  “Captain!” Kama Yu’s voice was panicked. “They’re here!”

  The engineer assigned to the bridge turned and set against a panel. He held the chemical pistol in an unsteady hand, pointed at the door to the bridge. The metal had begun to liquefy under intense heat as Ortiz stepped over to look. To get here so quickly, the Ch’Tauk needed to have knowledge of the ship’s layout. They would also have had to cut through the outer hull someplace close, through the compression gel layer and into the inner cabins. It was another disturbing tactic he had never seen before.

  A burst of plasma energy threw the door into the narrow entrance to the bridge. Molten door splashed across the wall and nearby panels, causing steaming fires in the carpet and paint. Ortiz braced himself on one knee and took aim. As the first Ch’Tauk head thrust through the cooling doorway, Ortiz and the engineer let loose. Cracked armored hide burst as the pistols impacted and blew the enemy apart. The pistols were powerful, but had a limited range and charge. They would not be able to resist a full assault for long, but it might be enough to hold them off until reinforcements arrived.

  Two more black skinned figures leapt through the portal, brushing aside the remains of their comrade and firing plasma rifles into the bridge. Ortiz rolled back to avoid being struck, but the young man at the engineering panel was not so fortunate. His chest opened in a burning hole even as he tried to scream. Plasma replaced air and his face melted away under the burst of energy from his mouth. Kama Yu screamed as she ran around a panel, avoiding another blast from the enemy. She had taken the time to grab a pistol and now kept it at the ready.

  There was a short corridor under the captain’s chair that led to bridge crew quarters. A group of security rolled from the corridor entrance and on to the bridge, firing their own plasma rifles at the oncoming invaders. More Ch’Tauk streamed in from behind. Rowling had gained his feet and Ortiz tossed him a pistol. There was blood covering the man’s face, but the captain could see the resolve burning in his eyes. Godfrey rolled across the command platform to push Ortiz out of the way. He set up a position near the ramp leading up with Ortiz at his back. The message was clear, the captain would be the last taken on this ship.

  Blasts of plasma and chemical projectiles rocketed across the bridge, shattering displays and exploding consoles. Rowling poured a steady stream of projectiles down the ramp at the advancing enemy. As his pistol emptied, Ortiz handed him another, reloading as the Ch’Tauk advanced. He heard the screams of his men below, dying to protect the damaged ship. Each scream tore at his soul. He had promised his wife years ago to stay away from combat. It was the reason he was on the cruise ship in the first place. It seemed, though, the combat he had been trying to escape would follow him until his death.

  A growl of something like anger came from the ramp as the Ch’Tauk began to overwhelm the defenders. Rowling leapt at the invaders, firing wildly as he flew down the incline. The Ch’Tauk were clicking and chirping madly in what Ortiz assumed was fury. Two black armored heads erupted from the ramp, surprising Ortiz and pushing him back from the edge. The edge of a rifle lowered to point at Ortiz’ head. A blast of the chemical pistol from below shattered the barrel and twisted the Ch’Tauk around.

  The other attacker had reached the command level and rounded on Ortiz. He carried no weapon and was missing part of his right arm, but it seemed to make the creature even more determined. Ichor dripped on the carpet in front of Alfredo. He kicked at the creature, trying to bring the pistol in his hand to bear, but the enemy avoided the move. The Ch’Tauk clicked his mandibles and blinked all four eyes at him. Alfredo saw his own fear reflected in the stone black eyes.

  The Ch’Tauk descended on Ortiz, pushing him back before the pistol could fire. Alfredo could feel the cold breath of the creature on his neck. It was grasping his arm, trying to lift him from the floor.
Ortiz swung the pistol hard, slamming it into the hard carapace of its face. The creature clicked and let out a howl. It smelled like dung in a field of lilacs; the gore dripping from the stump of its right arm was cool and greasy. The captain drew his legs up under him and tried to kick out. The creature’s remaining arm held fast. Ortiz jerked upwards with the force of his own blow. He could feel something snap in his left arm where the claw grasped him. Again the creature howled, but this time it also pushed back. One leg slammed into Alfredo’s chest, forcing the air from his lungs. He saw spots as the enemy closed in. The four-fingered hand let go only to rear back and strike him with a sharp backhand. Ortiz felt his head hit the hard deck with a crack. As the stars began to close over him, he heard another howl, this time from behind the enemy.

  The Ch’Tauk blinked all four eyes again as it looked down to its own abdomen. The plated armor that formed its skin had separated just under the chest. Extending from the divided plate was a shard of metal blasted from one of the bridge consoles. For one moment, the Ch’Tauk looked as if it wanted to attack again, then the metal was twisted and torn back out. Alien viscera streamed from the open wound over Ortiz’ legs as it slid to the floor. As the creature fell away, Alfredo saw the raging eyes of Doctor Elliot Reeves.

  Six years of pain and fear were painted on the man’s face in alien blood. He had fought his own demons when the ship had lost many of its passengers to medically induced suicide. He had watched as the remaining crews were forced to survive in a galaxy that wanted them dead. Reeves had only wanted to help people. He and Ortiz had known one another for years, and Alfredo had tried to reach the man many times. Elliot had simply bottled up the pain and fury he was now showing. Face to face with the real enemy, the doctor had become a berserker. He threw the metal shard away, reaching down to help his friend to his feet. The man was tall and gaunt, with an expression of a man who had endured too much.