Stars on Fire

by Justin Bell

  I shake the image away, and turn back towards the structure as four narrow splashes to my left indicate another close call with the boat soldiers. One of the watercraft still bobs there bottom-side up, but the second rushes towards the boat, then strikes the hull and launches into the air. As I near the rocky shore, the boat slams into the water near me at the edge of the rocky island.

  Somewhere inside this structure an Athelonian research team is huddled waiting for rescue. Engaging one last burst of thrust, I slam forward one final time, pounding the angled nose into the rocky shore. I use to, the momentum carries me a few yards onto the beach, where I leap from the crashing bike to hit tightly packed dirt, letting my knees buckle so I can roll with the impact, somersault, and come back up into a dashing run.

  The structure looks larger up close. It must be at least two stories tall and it's quite wide, filling this section of the island almost completely. From this distance I can see the craters in the side of the wall where shrapnel has struck, and I quickly duck under the fallen metal scaffolding that was once a gun tower. Heavy metal-on-metal sounds rebound just behind me. I glance past the fallen column to see Reblon commandos charging after me through the dirt. They're fast.

  My Bragdon form is just a bit faster. Ducking low, I move forward and right, hurtle a large chunk of broken metal, then hit the wall next to the front door of the building. The door is thick metal by the looks of it, brushed and worn from years of environmental distress. As I wathe the commandos as they run towards me, I realize that, once again, I hadn't even bothered to bring a weapon with me. It' too late to do anything about it now. The people inside need me.

  I draw in a breath and let myself relax, shifting from Bragdon back to my two-armed Athelonian form. There is no need to scare the researchers inside. I twist swiftly, lift my knee, then kick the metal door. It pops open surprisingly easily. I charge through the open door, slamming it behind me as concrete chunks blast away to spray my back. As I close the door, three muffled, gunshots rattle the door, mere seconds too late. I slam down a metal bar, locking the door, but I know that this won't stop the Reblons for long, if at all. I'm betting given five minutes, one of those apes could slam that door down without breaking a sweat. Like I said, I need to move fast.

  As I glance around, I see a darkened room, broad and square, some kind of lobby area without much in the way of comfort or decor. Flat, blank walls greet me at each side, with what looks like an elevator door towards the rear right. In the center of the rear wall is another plain, metal door and for a brief moment, it seems to be open, then slams closed just as I set my eyes upon it.

  Someone's there.

  "Hey!" I shout as I run forward. "I'm a friend! I'm here to help you get out!"

  A loud slam echoes from the door, resonating throughout the empty room. As I reach the door, I pound my shoulder into it. Like the front door, it springs open easily, as if it were made of thin wood, not armored metal.

  Bursting into the next room, my breath catches in my throat and I halt with muscles tensing. My eyes move from one figure to the next, lingering briefly on darkened corners before moving onto the next. I can't believe this. Am I too late?

  As my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, I will my heart to beat more steadily, but it defies all requests and continues moving in tune with my rapid, frantic breathing.

  I'm in a small room filled with some kind of technical equipment. All along the left wall is a series of wall-mounted computer consoles with a sprinkling of various colored lights scattered about them. The rear wall is metal cabinets with clear doors. There are similar lights in even patterns there as well. On the right wall is a group of large monitor screens, glowing light green with residual power, though the pictures on them have been turned off. But it's not the equipment that catches my eye. It's not the technology that drives my heart to slam or my breath to catch in my lungs.

  The room is filled with figures in white lab coats, looking like scientists here to work in this station, to do the good work that Athelon requires. The figures in white lab coats are all Bragdons. They turn and glare at me with narrow eyes glinting from the scant light of the surrounding equipment. They are looking at me in hate, distrust, and barely concealed rage.

  From the other room I hear the front door explode inward, then crash to the ground.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "Drewsk!" I shout into my comm, my eyes darting from one mistrustful Bragdon to another. "The place is filled with Bragdons!"

  There's a moment of silence in response, a low growl of thin static all I can hear.

  Until finally he replies, "Did I forget to mention that?"

  In the low-lit room, their eyes are narrow and glistening, reflecting off the ambient light from the wall-mounted equipment as they glare at me, unmoving. They make no motion, they don't seem to dare to, although they outnumber me eight to one.

  "Who are you?" a voice growls. I turn and see a large Bragdon, this one actually not draped in a white lab coat. He wears thick carbon armor, and a fabric strap pulled tight over his shoulder is wrapped around a long-barreled weapon pressed tight to his spine. His legs are long and thick and he lumbers towards me with awkward, thudding steps. His head is cocked and his reflective eyes are narrowed.

  "We don't have a whole lot of time for introductions," I reply. "Reblon Commandos are storming the facility." The room behind the closed door has gone silent, but I can just imagine them slinking around the dark corners with their double-barreled weapons probing the room, looking for movement. I remember for a moment that the most obvious landmark in the room was the double doors of the elevator, and think that we might have just a few minutes.

  The tall Bragdon reaches behind him and pulls out his weapon, tugging it up into a two-handed combat grasp. "Let them! Breeshlak will defend this station to his death."

  My eyes dart from him to the others who have stepped back slightly, fading into the shadows. "Well, to be honest, I'm here to rescue you. I'd rather do that then bear witness to your slaughter. There are at least ten Reblons out there. I'm sure you're a fine warrior, but--"

  He snarls and takes a step towards me, but another form moves in to intercept him. This second Bragdon is slender and appears female, though her long coat swirls around pants-covered legs.

  "Breeshlak, calm yourself," she hisses. "We cannot let this research fall into Reblox hands. Express your blind bravery elsewhere."

  "Thank you," I say, reaching for her. She slinks away, looking at me with fierce eyes.

  "We do not know you," she says. "What do you want from us? Who sent you?"

  I draw in a breath and lower my chin, trying to settle my nerves. Behind the door a scraping and banging signals the Reblons' continued search. I can almost hear the clock ticking, click by excruciating click. I don't reply, instead I focus on my insides, forcing my muscles in on themselves, bones turning, limbs twisting, then curling back around my skeleton. Just thinking about the process makes me want to throw up, but its gotten significantly less painful over the past few months.

  Seconds after thinking about it, I'm standing before them in Bragdon form, my gray skin shifting with the shadows of the darkened room.

  "You are one of us?" she asks, growing visibly less mistrustful.

  "In a manner of speaking," I reply. I press my fingers to the comm channel in my ear. "Drewsk, what is our evacuation plan?"

  Another growl of static answers me for a brief moment, then his voice breaks it apart. "Rooftop extraction. Best we can do, it's all falling apart out here!"

  "I've got a dozen Reblon Commandos in here and eight Bragdons to escort out! Any smart ideas?"

  "I thought you were the one with all the smart ideas?"

  "Not helping." I tap my ear and cut the signal. Out in the room behind us I hear the elevator doors ease shut and footsteps thudding on the floor. Sounds like they already searched the top floor...not many other corners to peer into.

  "We've got no more time to waste," I say. "I need you
all to trust me."

  They all remain stock still, showing no signs of my requested trust. The female takes a cautious step forward, staring at me. "You're her, aren't you?" she says quietly. "The Child?"

  "She doesn't look like a child," snarks Breeshlak. The woman flashes him a sharp look that would have drawn blood were it solid.

  "My name is Brie Northstar," I say. "Some call me the Child of the Stars. I make no promises."

  "My name is Cylek," she replies. "I invented the technology in this facility. We will join you."

  Breeshlak's head darts towards her, an almost comical lizard snapping, but she either doesn't notice or simply ignores him. The metal door just behind me slams with a swift, hard echo of fist on metal.

  "They're here," I whisper. "We need to get to the roof. Now."

  "You said there were a dozen of them out there!" Cylek says, her voice ragged, but soft. "How can we possibly?"

  "You need to trust me," I reply, then look over at Breeshlak. "Your weapon. Give it to me."

  "Not on your life," he replies, baring his sharp, narrow fangs. I roll my eyes as the door echoes with another swift series of bangs.

  "Are you going to hold them off all on your own?"

  "I stand a better chance than you do, little girl,"

  My arms swings up and around in mid-sentence, fingers clipping the center of the weapon, just by the trigger guard. It jerks out of his grasp and up into the air, and I snatch it with my other hand, the strap still wrapped tight around his shoulder. Clutching the weapon in two hands, I move into his range of motion and twist, flipping him over my hip and back-first to the concrete floor, slipping the strapped weapon from his shoulders as he falls.

  Lifting the weapon, I check the battery pack, disengage the safety mechanism and set the firing rate to semi-automatic plasma - level four power.

  "I guess it's no longer your choice," I reply. He pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes wide and angry. "Unlatch the door!" I bark, jerking my head towards the thick metal door, the only thing standing between us and two-and-a-half-yard tall beast soldiers.

  "What?" Cylek asks.

  "Just do it!" I scream. In my head I can picture them pulling back for a brief moment, biding their time just before launching at the door and breaking it open.

  "Unlatch it!" Cylek screams to Breeshlak as he pulls himself upright. His face twists into a misshapen scowl of incredulity, but he reaches over and snaps the bolt, unlocking the door. I pull back, lift my stolen weapon, press the thick stock to my shoulder, and cradle the barrel with my other hand, curling the four slender Bragdon fingers around it.

  All sound has ceased. The slamming fists have stopped. The echoing bangs and Bragdon screams are frozen in time, and we're surrounded by a bizarre pocket of stillness. My finger touches the trigger and rests there, unmoving, though the barrel of the weapon I hold trembles slightly. I glare down the long body of the weapon, keeping it directed at the door, trying to keep it as still as possible.

  A curtain of silence drapes around us. The world is so quiet that I can hear the ragged breathing of the scientists in the small room around me. Soon I focus on the door, honing all senses to glare at the slab of metal, and within moments even the heavy, frantic breathing fades into the ether.

  "There's no time for this," Cylek snarls. "They're here!"

  "I know," I reply.

  There's a muffled shuffling of feet on the other side of the door, then a loud, resonating slam. Unlatched, the door springs in towards us, whirling around into a gray blur of brushed metal. It swings hard enough to carry around and crash into the wall and the Reblon Commando who threw his shoulder into it lurches towards us, stumbling, wildly off balance.

  Just as he topples forward, I glance over his shoulder, silently counting the three operatives behind him. They all seem equally surprised by his sudden forward motion as I pull the trigger of the Bragdon weapon in my hand. The first bolt slams one of the soldiers in the head, jerking him backwards. I quickly adjust aim to fire again, putting the second shot through another commando's broad, hairy torso.

  The third one, faster than I anticipated, is already lifting his weapon and firing. I swing around the metal door as the blast from the weapon buries itself in the back of the toppling commando. As he falls to the hard floor, I swing out and bring the weapon up, popping off three quick shots into the torso of the third commando.

  "The roof!" I shout, twisting around to look at the Bragdons in the crowd. "We need to get to the roof!"

  "There's a stairwell over on the right wall," Cylek says, as she steps forward, pushing aside a pair of scientists and gesturing.

  "We need to move quickly; this was just a small group; there are others!"

  Following my gesture, Cylek directs the group of Bragdon scientists out the open door and into the lobby. They carefully step over the fallen bodies of the large soldiers as I move out with them, weapon at the ready, eyes darting from corner to corner. So far the lobby is empty, no sign of other Bragdons or enemy Reblons, but I know the quiet won't last. Cylek angles towards a single slab door on the far wall. I pick up my pace, coming up next to her.

  "Take it slow, and let me lead," I say. At her left shoulder, I see Breeshlak scowl my way, narrowing his eyes on the weapon I now hold.

  "The lives of these scientists are my responsibility," he growls. I don't reply. I just cross in front of Cylek and half jog to the door, pressing my back against the wall next to it.

  "Hold tight," I whisper, holding out my hand. The parade of coated Bragdons eases to a stop.

  I thrust out my heel, crash the door open, and leap into the narrow stairwell with the weapon poised and ready. As I hit the corridor, I swivel to cover the area with the barrel of my weapon, but the darkened hallway stands empty.

  "Go, go, go!" I shout, turning towards the Bragdons. Faintly I hear the soft signal of the elevator and sliding doors.

  "Stairs! They're going up the stairs!" come growling voices from the lobby as the final Bragdon squeezes through the doorway to the stairwell. Three flat bangs echo as gunshots slam projectiles into the wall a few merciful seconds late.

  Crashing footfalls echo from the lobby as the rush of swirling white coats stuff themselves up the narrow stairs and I move in behind them towards the door. Swinging it open, I lean out briefly, peppering the lobby with blasts of plasma, sending the approaching Reblons scattering for cover. Pulling back I slam the door closed and charge up the stairs behind the crowd of Bragdons. I squeeze myself between the rush and the railing, making my way up two steps at a time.

  "Drewsk, we're heading to the roof!" I shout, tapping my comm unit.

  "Extraction is on the way!" he replies, more quickly than I expected.

  I charge up, round a corner, and approach the front of the group. My eyes flash on a door pressed into the wall at the next landing.

  "Watch out!" I scream, lowering to a crouch and lifting my weapon. The door bangs open and a Reblon charges out with weapon raised. I'm too far back. A good two meters separates me from the top landing, and the swinging door is blocking my fire. I see the double-barreled hand cannon swinging up and around, pointing towards the throng of Bragdon scientists. The world swirls into a cloudy slow motion vid screen.

  Three lab-coated Bragdons lurch away, shoved by some invisible force and just as the weapon fires, a dark shadow darts from the group, throwing himself straight at the oncoming soldier. A muffled blast from the gun barrel and the burst of smoke and orange fire are swallowed by the figure swarming over the Reblon commando, placing himself between the weapon and the group of scientists. The impact of the weapon picks the figure up and throws it backwards to sprawl down the stairs, with legs cartwheeling.

  I lean to the side, just avoiding the tumbling corpse, then fire twice with my weapon. The first shot strikes the Reblon's left arm, throwing aside the trajectory of his next shot, which blasts harmlessly into the wall. The second shot buries itself in the base of his neck, dropping him like a puppet with
no strings.

  Sour smoke smell fills the confined hallway. A low cloud of the smoke drift past the stunned faces of the scientists clad in white coats. I glance down at the bottom of the stairs to see Breeshlak sprawled with his eyes staring vacantly and his chest a mass of darkened gray skin and swirling smoke.

  "He took the shot for us," Cylek mutters from above me, her voice a low gravelly whisper. Down below the door tries to open, but hits Breeshlak's body and gets caught momentarily.

  "We can't think about that now!" I shout up as I stand and resume my two-step at a time pace. "Get to the roof before they get in through that door!"

  I catch up to Cylek as she rounds one last bend. A sign on the wall reads "Roof Access" with a long, crooked arrow pointing our way. A single door rests in the wall at the top of the stairs. I push past this last group to reach it first. Down below, the door is slamming repeatedly against the prone body of Breeshlak as the commandos try to barge their way in.