by Chris Fox
“Let’s just hope ‘over’ doesn’t mean ‘permanently over,’” Mills said. He wasn’t whispering but, as always, his voice was pitched low. As a sniper, everything he did was done quietly.
The Johnston shuddered violently, and Hannan looked up. “That’s them docking.”
“Crew of the Johnston.” Captain Dryker’s voice echoed over the ship-wide comm. “Stand down and offer no resistance to the Tigris. Our surrender is unconditional.”
That set up murmurs among the Marines. Hannan would have punched Dryker if the captain were within reach. She didn’t know why he’d chosen to surrender, but that was the worst possible way he could have broached it to the crew. Several Marines were eyeing the weapons locker in the corner. Their posture had changed. They were ready to fight.
“Listen up,” Hannan yelled. She leaped onto the storage crate next to Edwards, making herself tall enough to draw every eye in the room. “I know you’re pissed off, because I’m pissed off, too. We’re Marines. We do the tough jobs no one else wants to do. What’s the toughest job? Turning the other cheek while we let the cats take our ship. But you know what? That is exactly what we’re going to do. Stand down, people.”
Then she hopped down, and turned away from her fellow Marines. If she pressed the issue, they’d press back. But embarrassing them into doing their duty would work, as long as they were allowed to decide for themselves. The squads began settling, and were approaching disciplined silence when the Tigris finally arrived.
The first cat through the door was tall and lean, probably six foot three. Her fur was mostly white, with little black spots on her face. She looked a lot like a snow leopard that Hannan had seen at a zoo back on earth. The cat eyed them impassively, cradling a wicked-looking shotgun with a barbed bayonet affixed to the end.
“Who is in charge here?” the cat asked, stepping into the room. Several more cats prowled outside the door, but none entered the shuttle bay. Most of those were Leonis, with the dun-colored fur and large paws Hannan had come to fear.
“I guess that would be me,” Hannan said, stepping forward. It wasn’t technically true, as there were three other sergeants in the room. She had the most seniority, though—plus she could kick the other three squad leaders’ asses. Hannan extended a hand to the cat. “I’m Sergeant Hannan.”
“I am Izzy Prideless,” the cat said, accepting Hannan’s hand. She had a firm grip, her furry paw more like a human hand than Hannan had expected. Izzy looked around the shuttle bay, releasing Hannan’s hand. “This is all the soldiers your vessel possesses?”
“This is everyone,” Hannan said, folding her arms. “Four squads is all we need to deal with…well, pretty much anything.”
“Keep that in mind, cat,” came a yell from the back of the room. Hannan thought she recognized Jinton’s voice, but couldn’t be sure.
Izzy merely smiled as her odd feline gaze roamed the room. She turned back to Hannan. “We will stay outside for now. As long as no one attempts to leave this shuttle bay, you will not be harmed.”
46
Boarded
Nolan’s hand fell to his sidearm as the first Tigris ducked through the hatch into the CIC. He blinked in surprise when he realized he recognized this one. It was the golden-furred cat who’d filled the screen every time Dryker had verbally sparred with the Tigris. Fizgig, Dryker had called her. Nolan had expected guards first, and found it surprising that an enemy commander would risk herself this way.
Fizgig was a lot more intimidating up close. Her fur was short, and Nolan could see the corded muscle underneath. She wore a suit of simple black body armor that covered her torso and legs, but her arms and tail were free. Her golden fur lightened on her face, especially under the chin where it was as white as snow. It made Fizgig look ancient and venerable, a wise and canny general.
“Hello, Fizgig,” Dryker said. He didn’t rise from the captain’s chair, instead greeting the Tigris with a nod.
“Mighty Fizgig,” another Tigris corrected, this one larger than any of the others. He was at least six foot six and strongly resembled a male lion, complete with the thick mane. His arms were wide enough to crush Nolan’s skull like a walnut.
“Hello, Dryker,” Fizgig said, waving a paw in the male cat’s direction. He subsided into silence, but glared sullenly around the room as if challenging someone to meet his gaze.
Nolan took up that challenge. He stared dead into the cat’s face. This was his ship and, while he understood what Dryker was doing, he wasn’t going to just lie down and take abuse from the cats. Even if the Johnston did need them.
“Tell me, Captain,” Fizgig began, pulling Nolan’s attention from the larger Tigris. “Why surrender? Why bait us, then run here? Is there really a threat so dire as you’ve claimed?”
“See for yourself,” Dryker said, nodding at the view screen. “That’s the enemy factory. You can see there are seven ships docked, ships unlike anything we’ve encountered before. I’ve seen one of those ships up close. It was a ship just like that that destroyed your science vessel. Not us.”
“Are you trying to avoid your fate, Captain?” Fizgig asked. She walked slowly toward the captain, ignoring the rest of the bridge crew. “You know us better than that. Your fate is sealed. I have a duty, and I will do it.”
“You have a greater duty—to your race, Fizgig,” Dryker countered. He finally rose from his chair, standing almost nose-to-nose with the aging Tigris commander. “The Void Wraith have returned. They’ve planted agents in my government, and in yours. They’ve even planted them among the Primo.”
“Do you have evidence to back up that claim, Captain?” Fizgig asked, her tail swishing slowly behind her. “I’m willing to hear that evidence. It won’t save you, but if you speak the truth it could save your crew and prevent a war between our peoples.”
Nolan shifted from foot to foot, ready to fight if Dryker called for it.
“The proof is in the patterns,” Dryker countered. If he was intimidated by the larger Tigris he didn’t show it. “You’re a strategist, Fizgig. Look at the pieces being shuffled about the board. How many colonies have you lost? What has your government done about it? Doesn’t it seem strange that they haven’t mobilized, strange that they sent a single vessel to hunt me down?”
Fizgig was silent for a long moment. She studied Dryker carefully, as if weighing him. When she finally spoke, her voice was weary. “You’re right. The prides are acting strangely, even my own. We should have sent a fleet to deal with you, and we should be more closely garrisoning our colonies. The disappearance of one colony is a tragedy. We’ve lost four. That’s more damage than your entire race did in the war between our peoples, yet the Tigris have done nothing. No reprisal, no investigation.”
“My government has reacted in the same way,” Dryker said, shaking his head sadly. “We’ve lost six colonies, and there’s been no reaction. As I understand it, the Primo have lost some as well. Entire worlds are disappearing, yet no one has done anything to stop it. Why? Why isn’t anyone reacting?”
Fizgig didn’t answer, but she did give a low growl. Her tail picked up the tempo, somehow conveying her agitation. “I do not know, and it troubles me deeply. If there really are spies, who do they work for? We are familiar with the legends of the Void Wraith. I cannot believe that we have been infiltrated by stories told to our kittens.”
“What if I showed you proof? We recovered a Virtual Intelligence from some Primo ruins on Purito, one that predates recorded history,” Dryker offered. He gestured behind him to the corner where Lena was standing. Until now she’d all but blended into the wall, and her eyes grew very large when the whole room focused in her direction. “Lena is one of your scientists, and she’s been very helpful in learning more about the Void Wraith.”
“Holy one?” Fizgig said. She growled low in her throat, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you still with the humans? Have they kept you prisoner?”
“No, Mighty Fizgig,” Lena said, bobbing her head. �
��I have stayed of my own volition. These humans are the only ones trying to stop the Void Wraith, and if we cannot stop them then all of us are doomed. We’re being harvested, our people and theirs.”
“I see,” Fizgig said. She studied Lena for several moments before shifting her attention back to Dryker. “You’ve presented a compelling argument. I am willing to release your crew. Your life is forfeit, and this vessel will be destroyed. Once that is complete we will travel back to Tigrana, and I will call a conclave of the prides.”
Nolan considered drawing his sidearm, but knew it would be pointless. Their surrender had been total, and now they had to live with it. He watched Fizgig advance toward Dryker, but his gaze was pulled to the view screen behind her.
At first he didn’t realize what had drawn his attention. The massive factory was still there, and there was no visible movement from the enemy. So far as the Void Wraith knew, they were still safely hidden in the sun’s corona, undetectable to all normal scans.
Then he realized what he’d noticed, almost subconsciously. “Juliard, set condition one. Battle Stations.”
Dryker and Fizgig both whirled to face him. The Tigris raised their weapons, though fortunately they didn’t fire.
“What the hell are you doing, Nolan?” Dryker demanded. Nolan had never seen him look so angry.
“Look at the factory, sir,” Nolan demanded, gesturing at the screen. “There were seven ships docked when we arrived. Now there are only six.”
47
Stealth Ship
“You heard Commander Nolan,” Dryker bellowed at Juliard. “Set condition one. Deploy turrets, and warm up the gauss cannon.”
“Captain,” Fizgig said, a clear note of warning in her tone. “If you arm this vessel, I will be forced to react with extreme violence. Do not force my hand, not when you’ve worked so hard to convince me of this threat.”
“You don’t understand,” Nolan said, taking a step closer to the Tigris commander. He stared defiantly up at her. “Those vessels can cloak. They disappear entirely from both visual detection, and scanners.”
“He’s right,” Dryker broke in. He gave a heavy sigh. “Listen, Fizgig…you’ve got us dead to rights. But if we don’t prepare for battle right now neither of us will be alive in ten minutes. The Void Wraith use particle weapons. They’re powerful, nearly undetectable, and are almost certainly on their way now.”
Fizgig’s face tightened, and she watched Dryker impassively. When she spoke, it was to the huge male. “Khar, escort the captain to our vessel. If he resists, kill him. Commander, what is your name?”
Nolan realized she meant him. “Nolan.”
“Commander Nolan you will order your vessel to stand down, right now. If you do not I will be forced to order my troops to—” Fizgig trailed off, and her eyes widened.
Nolan spun around to see what she’d been distracted by. She was staring at the view screen, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. An enormous vessel was shimmering into existence, the same vessel that he’d seen departing Mar Kona. Its blue metallic surface glittered in the sun’s brilliance as it swooped closer.
Then the twin wings began to glow with their own energy. A ball of crackling blue energy coalesced in the space where the two wings almost met, and it grew larger over the next few seconds. The Void Wraith vessel fired. Nolan winced, expecting the shot to hit the Johnston. Instead, it slammed into the Tigris vessel anchoring the Johnston into place. The CIC lurched wildly, and Nolan was knocked off his feet.
Chaos erupted as people staggered to their feet. Tigris aimed their weapons at humans, and humans drew their sidearms to defend themselves. Nolan ducked behind a console, and found himself standing next to Lena. She wore an agonized expression, as if not sure what side to join.
“Enough,” Fizgig roared, so loudly that it hurt Nolan’s ears. Everyone froze as her gaze swept the room.
The Void Wraith grew larger on the view screen, then the Johnston shook from an impact similar to when the Tigris had boarded.
“Sir,” Juliard called, looking up from her station. “The Void Wraith vessel has grappled us. It looks like we’re about to be boarded. Again.”
“Mighty Fizgig,” one of the cats called. “We must return to the Claw of Tigrana.”
“That may not be possible,” Fizgig said, spearing that soldier with her gaze. She turned to the large male. “Khar, gather the warriors outside this doorway and await my orders.” Then she turned back to Dryker. “Why are these Void Wraith boarding you when they could just as easily have blasted us to atoms?”
“The data cube,” Lena answered. Her tail drooped when Fizgig focused on her, but Lena continued to speak. “We have a VI from the first Primo empire. It contains all sorts of data about the Void Wraith, and about the war that wiped out the Primo.”
“That still doesn’t make sense,” Nolan found himself saying. “If they’re concerned about the data, why not blast us out of space? That deals with any potential leak.”
“I think they want the cubes,” Lena explained. “Every world they’ve hit has had Primo ruins. I’m betting they’re searching for these VIs. I don’t know what they use them for, but for some reason the cubes are important.”
“Assuming they’re coming for the cube, they’ll likely make their way here,” Dryker said. He took two steps closer to Fizgig, staring up at her. “Are you willing to cede operational authority? I’ve dealt with these things, and we’re going to be tripping over each other if we don’t establish a chain of command.”
“Done,” Fizgig said, nodding. She raised her wrist and spoke into her comm. “Izzy, what’s your situation?”
“We’re guarding the human soldiers,” a young female voice answered.
“Arm them, Izzy. Prepare for battle. We will be fighting alongside the humans,” Fizgig explained, then turned to the captain. “Perhaps it would be wise to inform your crew of the situation?”
“Of course,” Dryker said, running back to his chair. He glanced at Juliard. “Get me ship-wide. Now.”
“Done, sir,” Juliard said, a moment later.
“Men and women of the Johnston,” Dryker began, “we’re about to be boarded by the Void Wraith. The Tigris have agreed to fight alongside us, and you will treat them as allies for the duration. Arm yourselves, and make best speed to the bridge. We’ll be setting up a final defense here.”
“Aren’t you worried that you might alert these Void Wraith to your plans?” Fizgig asked. “They may have already begun boarding.”
“Quite the opposite. I’m counting on them fighting their way here, especially if they believe we have the cube,” Dryker said, giving a sharp grin.
48
Strange Bedfellows
“Izzy, right?” Hannan asked, nodding to the cat that seemed to be in charge.
“Yes,” the cat said, her tail standing at attention behind her. She looked terrified.
“We’re going to need to make a push for the bridge,” Hannan said, slamming home the clip in her assault rifle. “We have four squads, each designed to operate independently. Because the corridors are narrow, it makes sense to split up. I’m thinking we divide your people into four groups, and send mixed units along different routes. Our people can show you the way to the bridge.”
“All right,” Izzy said, blinking. She turned back to the other cats, most of whom had entered the shuttle bay. They prowled around, each showing signs of stress. “You heard Mighty Fizgig. We work with the humans against this common threat. Ragash, Tigren, and Vivica, you will each join one of the human squads. I will join Hannan’s. Follow the humans’ orders, and make your way to the bridge. For the Leonis!”
“For the Leonis!” echoed back a chorus of cats. They began filtering into the room, and the cats Izzy had named started pairing up with human squads.
“You sure about this, Hannan?” another sergeant called. She was the next most senior squad leader. “Might be better if we stick together and send the cats their own way.”
“You’ve fought these Void Wraith before?” Izzy asked. She seemed calmer, but Hannan had a hard time taking her seriously. Her white fur and round face made her look like a teenager—if a cat could be a teenager, anyway.
“Yes,” Hannan said. She climbed onto the supply crate again, hoping it was the last time. She needed to get her Marines up to speed. “Everyone listen up. You’re going to be engaging Void Wraith shock troops—Command says they’re called Judicators. They can cloak, but if you’re careful you can still see them moving. They leave a motion blur. Head shots are best, as these things can keep fighting after losing a limb. And if you disable one, get around a corner or behind cover, because they detonate when they die.”
“Oh, lovely,” Becca called, rolling her eyes. “This just gets better and better. First we have to babysit cats, and now we fight exploding robots? I’m not getting paid enough for this shit.”
“You’re not getting paid at all if you’re dead,” Hannan shot back. She let her eyes roam the whole room. “This is it, people—the day we prove we’re stronger than these bastards. Stick together, and watch each other’s backs. Every person, and every Tigris, is needed. Put aside your bullshit. Let’s move.”
She hopped down from the crate and moved toward the door from the shuttle bay to the corridor. Mills and Edwards fell into step behind her, while Izzy walked right alongside.
“That was an impressive speech,” Izzy whispered. “Your people respect you. Let us hope they will do as you ask, and work with my people.”
“How about yours?” Hannan asked. “Are they willing to work with humans?”
