Resolute Victory (The War for Terra)

by James Prosser

  “It’s already started, pig-man,” Rao said, laughing from under the console. “You can’t stop it from here.”

  Wellick reached under the panel and grabbed Rao by the robes. He hauled the bigger man out and tried to hold him up. Rao did not resist. He hung limply from Wellick’s arms, knees dangling just above the ground and his feet touching the deck. The politician was laughing silently even as Wellick threw him across the room.

  “Bastard!” Wellick said. “Don’t you get it? You are making the same mistake made six years ago! Blowin’ up this planet isn’t gonna end this war. It’s gonna make them come after us even harder. Stop this damned thing now before it’s too late.”

  “It’s already too late, alien meat,” Rao said, picking himself from the floor and standing on unsteady feet. “You’ll never live to see it, though. I will make sure I share my victory with no alien.”

  Rao leapt again at Wellick. This time, Wellick had seen the signs. He braced his knees again and reached up. As Rao sailed towards him, Wellick grabbed his shoulders and stepped aside. He threw Rao against the control panel. Rao impacted the metal panel with an audible yelp of pain. He slid to the floor and crumpled. Wellick stepped closer to the other man and brought his knee up under the man’s chin. Rao’s head snapped back and blood erupted from his mouth. Wellick realized Rao had bitten through the tip of his tongue. Rao landed on all fours with blood pooling under his mouth. Bloody bubbles were now blooming from his nose. Rao began to realize he may not see the end of the war himself, and came to grips with it.

  Wellick tried to lift his foot again to kick the human, but Rao grabbed his boot. He twisted hard and Wellick tripped to the floor. As his face hit the deck, Wellick could feel the vibrations of the generator increasing. He had lost count of the time until launch, but knew it wasn’t long. From his back, he twisted around and brought both knees up to his chin. Rao lunged at him, lost in his own blood-haze. Wellick kicked out with both boots and Rao doubled over. He pushed up with his hands and landed on his feet.

  Wellick grabbed Rao by the robes again and whirled. He released the human after more than a full revolution. Rao nearly flew across the control room. He landed hard by the door and slid into the open gantry outside. Wellick was through caring about protecting the man from himself. Banu Rao was beyond reason and was willing to destroy worlds rather than repent. Wellick reached down and grabbed him again. He pressed him against the railing over the M-space generator. The roar of the vibrations was too strong for any sound to travel far. The porcine security man pulled back his arm and slammed a fist into the politician. Again and again he hit the man, tears mingling with the blood on his face as he realized the extent of his failure. There was a click and the vibrations slowed. The charging sequence was done. He only had seconds. Rao tried to raise an arm to strike Wellick. The Tonal slammed Rao’s arm down against the rail and felt the bone snap. Wellick stared at the bloodied face of the human. Rao’s eyes had begun to swell closed, but Wellick could still see an expression in the man’s eyes. It was not what he expected.

  After the beating, Wellick would have expected fear, or even the lingering effects of anger to show through the blood. Instead, he saw regret. At this last moment, Banu Rao realized what he had done and felt remorse. Rao looked back at Wellick with an expression that demanded pity from the alien. Wellick’s mind raced for what to think. He pulled the man close as his cracked lips parted.

  “Forgive me,” Rao said.

  “Not today, you arrogant bastard,” Wellick said as he pushed the man through the railing. “I ain’t too fond of aliens either.”

  Rao’s body fell towards the M-space generator. Wellick had only seen video of what happened to an organic substance as it phased out of space. Rao screamed for only an instant, terror racing across his face before the whole of his body began to shrink. The man’s limbs pulled in on themselves as he began to implode. The generator hum changed. Rao’s body was destabilizing the field created in the weapon. For just an instant, Wellick saw the outline of Banu Rao as it shrunk from sight. There was a pop as the man disappeared forever, and then a flash of light.

  “Aw crap,” Wellick said as the force of the implosion forced him back from the edge. He was thrown into the control room and slid on his back. The vibrations from the ship had increased and he could no longer stand. A glance at the control board showed the lights shifting back to red and flashing in extreme danger. Pipes from the cooling system burst around him as the ship began to shake apart.

  As the control room began to collapse, Wellick pulled an object from the black stealth-suit, a thick ring of dark metal his mother had given him years ago.

  “You give it to the girl you bring home,” she had said to him. “We’ll love her better than her own family.”

  He thought of the pretty Tonal on the carrier one last time. “She probably would have said no anyway,” Wellick said. “I aint’t the marryin’ type.”

  And then the world turned to light and heat and there was no more pain.

  32

  Battleship Resolute

  Resolute bucked as the pressure wave from the exploding ship taxed their gravity systems. The flash of light had come too sudden for him to look away and Lee still saw spots in his vision. The dots on the screen were being pushed around as shards of metal and energy erupted outward from the destroyed battleship. He frantically searched for the signal from Alice and found it. She was being pushed away from the battle by the wave, but slowing as the energy dissipated. Some of the smaller Ch’Tauk ships were not as fortunate. Red dots winked out as their armored hulls came apart under the strain.

  “Turn it all back on!” Lee said to the little white alien. “Give us maneuvering power or we’re all dead.”

  There was a moment where he did not think the creature would respond. The placid black eyes stared back at him, listening to some other voice from far away. Finally, after an eternity of vibration and twisting metal, the creature looked up.

  “Sir,” Goldstein shouted. “I’ve got maneuvering thrusters!”

  “Systems are coming back on-line, sir,” Farthing said from his communications station. “We’ve got primary power to shields and engines. Weapons are still down.”

  “Stabilize our course, Josh,” Lee ordered, looking at the pilot. “Find me the Demons. I need to know if they are … if she is alright.”

  “Aye, sir,” Goldstein replied.

  “Ki’Bara,” Lee said, returning his gaze to the image of the enemy. “I need to know your people aren’t coming after us.”

  The black armored creature looked from his son to Lee. Both sets of eyes blinked together and the over-large head tilted at a strange angle. He seemed to be wrestling with the decision. Lee thought he could understand the man’s reticence. For years, the two races had been killing each other across space. Now, he had been laid bare in front of his enemy and asked to make peace. There was a clicking that did not translate. Lee had the feeling it was a form of sigh.

  “Captain Lee Pearce,” Ki’Bara said. “You have my word as the Defender of the Realm, and the Father, that my warriors will not harm you or your kind again if you agree to the same.”

  “I speak for all my people when I agree to your terms. Can we begin recovery procedures on your ships?”

  “No, Captain,” Ki’Bara replied. “There are those among my kind who would not follow this order if you boarded our vessels. I will send the signal to my ships to pull back. My people do not believe in recovering the weak. If the Emperor wishes their deaths, they will die.”

  “Does this order extend all the way to my world?” Lee asked, stepping closer to the image of Ki’Bara. “Is this the end of our war?”

  “It will take time for the order to be relayed,” the Father said. “It will be passed to my people who remain. You and your planets are safe. The Empire will not hold these worlds any longer. We owe that to your officer who gave his life for an enemy.”

  Lee’s thoughts went finally to Wellick. T
he stout security guard had stayed with him during his exile a year ago and fought harder than any of them to free the human slaves from the Ch’Tauk. When Chang had suggested the plan to infiltrate the Tonal into Rao’s ship, Lee had felt a surge of hope and fear. The hope was for the man to stop Rao’s genocidal plans. The fear was that the man would not return. He paused for a moment to let the knowledge he had been right on both accounts sink in.

  “Thank you, Ki’Bara,” Lee said quietly. “From one warrior to another.”

  “Captain Lee Pearce,” Ki’Bara said. “I must contact my people now.”

  “We can facilitate the order,” said the little creature standing just above the command chair, startling Lee. “We have been relaying the exchange to each of your peoples.”

  “You mean they all know?” Lee asked. “They’ve been listening the whole time?”

  “Listening, yes,” the creature said. “Although some are now making too much noise to be heard.”

  “Noise?” Lee asked, feeling overwhelmed with what he had just done, and that his friends and enemies had been a part of the conversation.

  “Celebrating, Captain,” Ki’Bara replied. “As one who has fought wars his entire life, I can understand. It will be difficult to lay down the weapons I have held for so long.”

  “Maybe what you hold in your hands is enough for now,” Lee replied, looking at the child in Ki’Bara’s arms. “Let’s hope he is as good a man as his father.”

  “No, Lee Pearce,” Ki’Bara replied. “My hope is that he is better.”

  The two warriors looked to each other for a long moment. Ki’Bara stood straighter still as Lee felt his own knees begin to weaken. He held on to his strength as the image of the enemy faded from his bridge. As the last outline of the other man disappeared, Lee fell to one knee. His arm throbbed and he could feel a trickle of blood from his head. There was a terrible silence over the bridge as everyone looked at the little white alien. The creature stared placidly back to the crew.

  “So?” Lee asked. “What now?”

  “We do not understand. You have won the peace, Lee Pearce. You may return to your world.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Lee replied, trying to find a balance and take his feet again. “You said something a while ago and I started thinking. You said you can control what you create.”

  “Indeed, Captain, we can,” the creature said. “What is your question?”

  “You created the Ch’Tauk,” Lee said, standing and advancing on the creature. “Why couldn’t you control them?”

  It was as if Lee had just questioned an angry god. The creature seemed to grow on the bridge, filling the empty seat and eclipsing the screen. The effect lasted only seconds, but it was enough to give the crew a glimpse of something more. The creature was no longer the small, elfish alien they had recovered from a prison ship. It was a massive, unknowable entity of immense power and age who had just been discovered as a liar. Lee stared the monster down into its smaller form. The elf returned to stare placidly back at the captain.

  “We created the template, Captain Pearce,” the creature replied. “What grew from our design was twisted and ungrateful.”

  “And you just let them run rampant over our galaxy?” Lee said, strength giving his words power. “You had the power over life and death and you just let them kill.”

  “Understand, Captain Pearce, that once begun, the process of creation had to run its course,” the creature replied. “We were waiting until the process was complete to take action.”

  “What process!” Lee shouted. “What is this grand design you came to us with? When will it all be over? How many more have to die?”

  “No more,” the elf said quietly. “The process is complete.”

  “What process?” Lee cried, finally getting close enough to the little projection he could touch it.

  “Millennia ago, we set into motion certain changes to the code of the creatures you call Ch’Tauk,” the alien started. “They were very much like you and your species then, but their world was far more hostile. We tried to remake them into something stronger and tougher to survive. You see, we felt pity for them.”

  “You turned a primitive race into the greatest mass murderers in the galaxy because you felt sorry for them?” Lee said in disbelief. “Is this your way of apologizing?”

  “No, Captain Pearce,” the creature replied. “Not an apology … an explanation. Their world was harsh and they had only the barest glimmer of consciousness. We resolved to bring them into the light and show them the way. The process was begun and then our early success made us continue the changes.”

  “It took us some time to understand the complexity of your galaxy’s code. The more advanced changes we made, the more the creature’s code began to drift. In one hundred generations, we lost control.”

  “You tried to control life and that life rebelled,” Lee said, a hint of confidence creeping back into his voice. “You played God too well. You created a species in your own image and they turned out to be exactly like you.”

  There was a long pause from the little creature as it seemed to finally hear Lee’s words. There was a moment when Lee thought he heard more voices. The blank face of the alien shifted and Lee realized he saw understanding dawn on the alien. He found the expression comical on the all-white image. It was like a child who had finally realized he had done something bad. The meaning of that expression sent a chill of fear down Lee’s back.

  “Thank you, Captain Pearce,” the elf said. “We had seen that analogy in our image. We, however, do not accept this reality as being the truth. We are not an aggressive race as the Ch’Tauk have become.”

  “You are,” Lee replied. “You just talk softer. Get on with your story. I already know how it ends.”

  “No, you do not,” the voice of the projection said. “We were not sure of its end either. When we realized the nature of what we had changed, we tried to alter the design. Our alterations nearly destroyed the Ch’Tauk. We had tried too much too quickly. A process was developed that relied on the natural genetic process. It has taken hundreds of generations more for this process to evolve a new species we can control.”

  “A new species?” Lee asked. “What new species?”

  “The child, Captain Pearce,” elves’ voices echoed in Lee’s mind. “Our involvement in the Ch’Tauk society created an unwanted religious element. When we left them, the emperors had almost wiped out our believers. In fear, they kept a few priests close to themselves but exiled the rest. We have been controlling the evolution of their species through the high priests.”

  “Are you saying…” Lee began. “You started some sort of selective breeding with the Ch’Tauk?”

  “An apt analogy,” the elf replied. “The child in Ki’Bara’s hands is the culmination of our process. He will be controlled. The Ch’Tauk will honor their commitments to you and your people. We will engineer a new existence for our creations.”

  “You still haven’t learned,” Lee shouted at the projection. “You can’t control life that way. It will always rise up against that kind of forced evolution! You have to let it go!”

  “Someday, Captain Pearce,” the elf said. “Someday we will leave you and your galaxy forever. Now is not that time.”

  “If you won’t leave our galaxy, then leave my ship!” Lee demanded, fingers flexing in the desire to throttle the creature. His arm was screaming in pain each time he tried to bend his fingers, but he did not care. He used the pain as a focal point for his anger.

  “Perhaps it is for the best,” the elf replied. “We will begin the new process here. There is much work to be done in clearing away the old, but we know where to begin.”

  “I said get off my ship!” Lee yelled, anger overtaking his reason.

  The elf looked back at Lee with the same familiar placid expression. Lee held the gaze, trying to sense some emotion from the image. He realized the creature was becoming less distinct as the seconds passed. It took only a few s
econds for the elf to vanish completely, leaving a void over Lee’s command chair he had not sensed was there. The bridge crew turned back to their consoles as they regained their sense of reality.

  “Captain,” Goldstein said, breaking the silence. “The Demons are hailing us. Jackal is towing Baron. Aztec and Merlin are flying on thrusters only, but coming in.”

  “Princess?” Lee said, using Alice’s call sign.

  “She’s already parked on the starboard landing bay.”

  Lee exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Pain from his arm and a dozen other places swept over him, and he needed to grab the chair to remain standing. Farthing moved to help his captain, but Lee shook his head. He held the chair with his undamaged hand for a few seconds before straightening his back and turning to the feline first officer.

  “Commander,” Lee said. “Get our engines back on-line and get us the hell out of here. I’ll be inspecting the ship.”

  “Aye sir,” Farthing said, turning to tap keys on his panel. “I suppose I shall inform the docking bay crew to expect you?”

  “No, Commander,” Lee said, stepping away from the chair for a moment. “I would call sickbay first. I’m not sure how much longer…”

  Captain Lee Pearce, hero of the Alliance war and commander of the battleship Resolute, then promptly passed out.

  33

  Ch’Tauk Spring Palace

  As the image of the human commander faded from view, the Ch’Tauk who was once Ki’Bara and was now known as the Father turned to stare at the Engineer. The little alien practically glowed with electromagnetic energy and Ki’Bara’s eyes hurt to look at him. The Emperor squirmed in his arms and made another sound.

  “Lo’Ndiran,” the Father ordered his subordinate. “Relay the message to all ships everywhere. The war is over. Return to base of operations immediately.”

  “Yes, my lord Father,” the man replied. He turned on his clawed foot and marched briskly from the audience chamber.