by Justin Sloan
This was getting out of hand. Valerie went for her sword again, but the Norrul grabbed her arm and smashed it into the ground. The impact sent a shock through her—the armor had cracked! Damn this dude was strong.
But she had learned something in her first encounter, so she knew that the Norrul weren’t their enemy.
She hit him with two strong elbows to the sides of the head, just enough to distract him so she could scoot out from beneath him and get some distance. More Norrul were closing on her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Robin taking on several.
“We’re not here to fight you!” Valerie shouted. “The Skulla have turned against the elites. They’ve risen for freedom, and you can have it too!”
There was a definite change in attitude in parts of the room, but not from all the Norruls equally. The large one didn’t seem to care. That, or his blood-rage had taken over and he was beyond the point of comprehension.
When he charged again, she dodged left and came around with a kick to his back that sent him sprawling. He was up before she knew it, however, throwing wild punches her way.
“Aren’t you listening?” she shouted, slamming him in the side of the head. “We aren’t your enemy!”
One of his punches connected with her chest and sent her stumbling backwards, but the next she blocked with her forearms before ducking and butting her head into his nose.
This sent him staggering back into a couple of his own, who turned on him. He was too much for them, though, and quickly had them on the ground.
Another ran for Valerie and she prepared to attack, but he held up his hands and said, “No, no! He’s with them. He’s with the Bandian!”
Valerie shoved this one aside as the first Norrul attacked again and went at him with a series of quick strikes—knee, knee, elbow, uppercut, sweep to the leg. The large Norrul fell with a thud that shook the room.
“Is this true?” She pounced on him. “Are you with them, or us? Declare yourself now!”
“Die,” he grumbled, reaching for her throat.
Deflecting the blow, she decided this was over—she grabbed his rock carapace in two spots and used all her strength to pull it apart. It splintered and then with a massive crack the rock came off, leaving behind green tendrils of ooze and a Norrul who screamed like a tortured pig.
Valerie pulled her sword and raised it high, saying, “You already had your last chance, but hell…I’m a sucker for having more than one life. Change of heart?”
Through the pain he managed to glare at her with wild eyes and grunt through clenched teeth, “Eat rock and die as you shit.”
She didn’t have the slightest idea how to take that insult, but it didn’t sound pleasant. With a sigh she thrust the sword into his chest where the rock had been removed and turned it.
A low grunt and he was gone.
Instinct pulled her back, sword dripping but held at the ready. The rest of the Norrul had taken a step backward and now they knelt, heads bowed.
“What’s this?” she asked, glancing at them as she lowered her sword.
One of them cautiously lifted his eyes to meet hers and said, “We are in your debt. He was the Bandian’s person, the one over us. You have set us free.”
“Then go back to your homes, your loved ones, your—”
He held up a hand, cutting her off. “No, we will not. It would be a disgrace not to pay you back. You said you’re here to take down the Bandian? Then we are with you.”
A glance at Robin showed she was on board, so Valerie shrugged and said, “Welcome to the team. Care to point me in the right direction as a start?”
The Norrul who had spoken stood and smiled as the room filled with the clanking of the rest getting to their feet.
“Follow me,” he said, and led the way.
So she did, unslinging her rifle and holding it at the ready, glad to have this wall of rock people preceding her in this dark fortress.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Planet Tol: the Jungles
Kalan’s eyes scanned their surroundings as he trotted up the hard-packed dirt road.
He’d set them down a bit up the mountain from where they’d seen the transport vehicles, which meant any of the genetically-modified warriors going up to assist their warlord would have to pass this point.
But he’d also set them down in a wide section of the road. Two versus an unknown number of warriors was bad enough, but facing them on a wide stretch would be a disaster.
“You with me, Wearl?” Kalan asked as he jogged. Something brushed up against his arm. “I’m going to take that as a yes. We need to find a narrow place—something we can actually defend.”
They trotted onward in silence for a few more minutes. The road was rising steeply now, and up ahead he saw a cliff overlooking a narrow section of road. If they could make it up there, it could be an ideal spot.
“I know what you’re thinking, Wearl. How are two people going to defend this road from an army, even if those two people are as smart and good looking as us? That’s an excellent question. My hope is that in the chaos after we shot up their little caravan they’ll be disorganized and panicked and trickle up the road in small groups rather than in an organized assault.”
They reached the cliff, and Kalan stared up at it for a moment. It was only about twenty feet high, but it would give them a nice position to work from.
“This could work, Wearl. This could work very well. Here’s hoping Shimmers can climb.”
He found a trail that looped around behind the cliff, and it took them less than five minutes to make it to the top. Then they waited.
A few minutes later the first soldiers came up the road. As Kalan had hoped, it was a small group. There were only five of them, and they were on foot.
They were taller than the average Skulla, probably a little over five feet. They were also lean and fast. Clearly these genetic alterations were much more practical than Zoras’ and some of the other strangely-shaped Skulla Kalan had seen over the years.
“Here we go,” Kalan whispered. He had the sudden wild notion that maybe Wearl wasn’t here at all. Maybe she was back down the road, or even still on the Nim 47.
If she wasn’t here, he was in some serious trouble. Granted, he had a solid position, but he was armed only with Bob’s pistol and the knife from the survival kit on the Nim—not exactly an ideal sniper-weapon set.
But no, he’d felt her brush against him. He had to trust her.
“Wait until they’re about ten yards out,” Kalan whispered. “Then we—”
The strange boom of the Shimmer weapon firing cut him off before he could finish. The five men fell in six shots.
“Okay, that works too.” Kalan grinned. “Wearl, I’m pretty glad you decided to tag along.”
They watched until three more soldiers appeared. Again Wearl dropped them efficiently, but this time it was from a solid fifty yards.
Kalan bit his lip, considering too late whether she should have waited until they got closer. The next Skulla who came down the road would see those bodies and be on high alert or decide to get organized.
Just as he’d feared, the next group of troops—six of them this time—paused seventy yards away, then turned back.
Kalan cursed softly. He wasn’t foolish enough to think they’d left for good.
“We need to be ready, Wearl. The rest of this won’t be as easy.”
He saw smoke rising above the thick jungle in the distance, and a moment later he heard the unhealthy rumble of a damaged engine. Finally he saw the transport.
The vehicle had sustained heavy damage during their aerial attack, but it was still running and Kalan could only guess how many were hiding inside it behind the heavily-armored exterior.
As soon as the transport came into sight Wearl started firing again. She hit it with round after round, but still it kept coming. It was moving fast now, powering through Wearl’s assault.
Kalan didn’t even bother firing. If the vehicle could withs
tand Wearl’s rifle, his sad little pistol didn’t stand a chance.
The vehicle banged to a stop at the bottom of the cliff right below them. The cliff had a slight overhang, giving the vehicle a bit of cover.
“Go!” a Skulla in the vehicle yelled. “Get up there and rip them apart!”
A dozen soldiers poured out of the transport and started up trail that led up the cliff.
“Here we go,” Kalan muttered.
They were positioned behind some rocks, which gave them nice cover from the trail behind them.
Now that the Skulla were close he could finally join in the fun. As Wearl’s rifle boomed to his right, he took aim and fired on the troops rushing up the trail. Three of them fell quickly to his weapon, but they were coming faster than he could take them down.
Thankfully Wearl picked up his slack, dropping any Skulla Kalan didn’t. A few moments later all twelve were down.
Kalan allowed himself to smile. “I gotta say, Wearl, I like having—”
Something grabbed his ankle, pulling him to the ground. He cried out in surprise as his face slammed into the rocky soil.
Wearl’s rifle boomed again, but a moment later he heard something clatter to the ground beneath the cliff.
He quickly rolled over and saw a huge Skulla grinning down at him. He was as tall as his companions had been, but much more muscular. Kalan figured he was part of a different genetic batch.
It took Kalan a moment to put together what had happened. They’d been so focused on the soldiers coming up the trail that they’d completely disregarded the cliff itself. It was nearly sheer so it had seemed unlikely that anyone would be able to climb it, but apparently that was what this huge Skulla had done.
He’d managed to bring down Kalan, and apparently he’d knocked Wearl off the cliff.
Now he glared down at him, his rifle trained on the Grayhewn’s chest. “Tell your friend that being invisible is only effective if you don’t have a loud-ass rifle announcing exactly where you are.”
“Tell your friends I hope they’re enjoying their time in hell.” With that Kalan lashed out with his right foot, slamming it into the inside of the Skulla’s knee.
The Skulla cried out in pain and stumbled to the side.
Kalan rolled to a crouch, then lunged at his attacker. Perhaps a bit too hard, he realized a moment later.
He slammed into the Skulla, carrying them both over the cliff.
Kalan’s stomach lurched as they fell and the world spun around him. He only had time for one thought: he was really glad he was on top.
The big Skulla softened the landing, but it was still a hell of an impact. The air rushed out of Kalan’s lungs and he gasped frantically as he rolled off the big male.
He was still trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him when, to his surprise, the Skulla started to struggle to his feet.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Kalan said between gasps. His hand went to his belt, searching for the pistol, but instead it found the knife.
He attacked first, punching the Skulla in the face with his empty hand. When the male stumbled backward, Kalan slashed his throat.
When he went down Kalan found his pistol and put a round in his chest, finishing the job.
He looked around frantically, searching for anyone, friend or foe. “Wearl, you here? Are you okay?”
There was no response.
He heard footsteps pounding as a lone soldier sprinted up the road toward him, but the familiar Shimmer rifle boomed and the Skulla fell.
Kalan smiled. “Wearl! You’re alive!”
He wished he could grab her by the shoulder or give her a hug to show his happiness, but neither was practical with an invisible ally so he just smiled.
They waited a while longer, but no one else came up the road.
“What do you say we see if Valerie needs a hand?” he asked.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Planet Tol: the Bandian’s Base
This base’s tunnels seemed to go on and on, and wound up and down. Valerie had started to doubt these Norruls, wondering if they were leading her and Robin into a trap, but when the waves of modified Skulla had shown up and the Norruls had led the charge against them her doubts were replaced by awe and admiration.
Not only were the Norruls loyal, they were badasses.
If she were being honest with herself, that large Norrul she had killed had probably come the closest to scaring her in a long time. Having a whole team of them on her side was therefore very welcome.
They heard shooting in the distance, and at one point they came to deep windows that let them see outside. Below a turret exploded and then a figure dashed toward the base, followed closely by another as fresh rounds exploded the dirt behind them.
More shots rang out, and a Skulla fell dead.
“Keep moving,” the Norrul said, motioning them on, but then he asked, “Friends?”
“Friends.”
They kept going. The Norruls were murmuring among themselves and glancing her way.
“What is it?” she finally asked, made anxious by the lack of attacks for the last few minutes. She was also annoyed at the smell of this place as they entered what must’ve been the brain, if you thought of the base like a panther. It was somewhere between burnt metal and maple syrup, oddly enough.
“You’re here. You made it this far,” the Norrul replied. “Your friends are holding it down out there, and… You say the Skulla in the city have risen against the leaders, yes?”
She nodded. “That’s correct.”
“It’s really happening then.” He beamed, nudging the Norrul to his right. “I never gave up hope. This one… He lacks faith.”
“Faith in what?” she asked.
“The tales of a great leader, one who will set us free and lead our people to a new way of life. To freedom.”
Valerie frowned. It was a pretty typical legend for any group kept in slavery, but she didn’t like the idea of anyone looking to her as the fulfillment of some prophesy or whatever this was. Apparently neither did the Bandian, because he chose that moment to show himself.
They had entered a room that was filled with wires, flickering boards, and robotic limbs. The Bandian sat at its center in a strange-looking metal chair surrounded by more metal and wires. Why anyone would choose this as a throne was beyond Valerie’s comprehension, but hey–they were aliens, after all. Or rather, here she was the alien.
“You were free,” the Bandian declared, “and I was that leader. I set you free from your lack of order, from your lack of purpose. Now look what you’ve accomplished, only to throw it all away.”
The Norruls clearly detested the male and yet they knelt, heads bowed.
“I don’t… What’s happening?” Valerie asked.
“Ah, you don’t know their ways yet then?” He shook his head, his expression annoyed as if he were about to explain something to a child. “I’m still their true master, so they can’t turn against me. They will be punished for what they have done so far, but to go any farther would mean death.”
“They aren’t yours anymore,” Valerie declared. “Surrender, or your life is forfeit.”
“Do you always talk like that?” He laughed. “Shut up and fight me.”
With that he waved his hand, and the mechanics of his throne folded around him but left an opening in front of his face shielded by glass so she could still see it. The room around them whirred, coming to life, and even as his throne became a giant mech other parts of the room got ready to attack, including mini-turrets, small drones, and more.
“Holy fucksticks,” Valerie declared, taking a step back.
While the large Norrul had been intimidating, he had been nothing compared to this mech before her. It was even worse, because back on post-Great Collapse Earth mechanics were fairly limited. In her mind this was straight out of a story told late at night—something that couldn’t possibly be real.
Yet here it stood, large cannon and miss
iles preparing to fire, metallic blade whirring like a chainsaw.
“GET OUT OF HERE!” she shouted to the Norruls as she ran for the mech. As far as she could figure, it would have a limited range of motion within the room. It was large, and slower than her.
Robin had already made a move, but toward the mini turrets around the room—just as they opened fire.
She took out one and shouted, “I’ll get these, you get him!”
“Agreed!” Valerie shot back, already moving for the mech but circling, trying to figure out the best method of attack. It swung its massive metal arms, coming in for her with that whirring blade but instead carving a line in the floor when she dodged.
If the Bandian had this, what else was out there on this planet and in the rest of the universe? Valerie felt like her mind was going to explode just thinking about it so instead she focused on the fight, diving out of the way as a barrage of little missiles tore into the wall where she had been. They exploded, opening the room into a chamber that led into the mountain behind it.
Matching the mech with firepower wasn’t possible, so she would have to be smart here.
When the cannon lifted and prepared to fire she threw herself into the new chamber and rolled, and the blast exposed another chamber.
“Watch it!” a voice shouted, and she spun to see Kalan. He was a sight for sore eyes, but right now wasn’t the best time for catching up.
“Trouble—” she started as the mech came tearing through the remaining wall into this chamber. The Bandian’s face lit up with excitement.
“Two for one deal,” he said with a laugh, and pounded the room with rounds.
Boom! Boom-boom-BOOM!
“You forgot me,” Robin declared, sliding under his legs and blasting up at the glass as she did.
No good.
She recovered, scrambling to get out of the way as the mech’s foot tore into the floor where she had been, and caught up with Valerie.
“We got a plan for this thing?” she wondered.
“Yes—fucking tear it up.”
