Alien Revolt

by Tracy St. John

  “Understood.”

  Piras wanted to gather wide-eyed Hope to his side, to let her hide the sight of the carnage by burying her face against his shoulder. She averted her gaze after a moment of horrified recognition, but she didn’t scream. She also didn’t dash on graceless tiptoe across the floor or mutter over and over, “Jesus, Moses, Mohammed, Jesus, Moses, Mohammed,” as her sister did.

  Hope still gazed at Piras as if he were her hero. What a wonderful woman she was, the admiral thought.

  Borey winced as he grabbed the other two corpses’ weapons. “Thank you for coming for me. I was on the verge of phasing in spite of your assurance you’d save Charity. I feared doing so would put my girls in mortal danger, but with time passing, I was even more afraid of what might be happening.” He gripped Piras’s shoulder. “I can never repay you for helping us.”

  Piras was aware of Hope smiling at him. “I assure you, General, I took great pleasure in stopping this creature from harming your daughter. No thanks are necessary.”

  “Still, you have my lifelong gratitude. Here, Hope.” Nath handed his eldest one of the blasters.

  The sound of shouting reminded Piras they weren’t out of the woods yet. Men burst into the office. They stopped short to stare in shock at the bloody remains of their fellow soldiers.

  As excited jabbering broke out, Piras said, “We’d better get over to Kila’s destroyer. It won’t be long before someone goes running to Copeland and figures out the Voice of God has gone quiet.”

  Copeland flailed. “Not to a Kalquorian vessel! Help! General, let me go and all will be forgiven. I swear it! I’ll absolve you of all blame!”

  The man was truly a narcissistic asshole. Piras squeezed Copeland’s head in warning, wishing he could keep doing so until his skull caved in. When Copeland ceased struggling, the Dramok told Nath, “I’d love nothing more than to make him eat a blaster shot, but he could be of some use to Fleet Command.”

  The general stared at the man he’d plotted against for so long, his lip curling in hatred. “I’d like to see him answer in court for his crimes—both committed and attempted.” He glanced at Charity, then back at the weeping Copeland. His face reddened with a primal loathing. “We’d better get to your shuttle before I change my mind.”

  “I’m sure you know the fastest way to get to the shuttle bay.” Piras led the way out of the office, aware of Copeland cringing whenever someone passed through his body. It was an unpleasant sensation, but at least the corridor was less crowded. Soldiers ran past in both directions, confusion reigning as they realized that not only were three men murdered, but the high-profile prisoner had disappeared.

  “Stop running through me!” Charity yelled at the heedless men. She rounded on Hope, who continued to grip her hand tightly. “You’re keeping me in the middle of the corridor and hogging the edge to yourself on purpose. This crap feels completely gross.”

  Hope rolled her eyes and told Piras, “I guess she’s recovered from seeing dead bodies.”

  It was a relief to leave the choked halls of the detention area behind. They entered Copeland’s personal area of the ship again. As they rushed through the halls, an older woman raced towards them. She was swathed in what looked to Piras like an acre of black fabric, her robes snapping around a rounded body. Her lined face was a rictus of terror as she screamed, “Black magic! Holy Leader, where are you? Help me!”

  “Sister Miriam!” Charity yelled. “Hey, she’s wearing my phase thing!”

  The woman froze to see them, her eyes widening as she stared at Charity. “You! Witch! You did this to me! God’s vengeance be upon you! God’s vengeance!”

  “How about ‘Thou shalt not steal’, you old twat?” Charity jerked at Hope’s arm. She pulled to get to the woman who indeed had the silver phase device affixed to her mid-upper breast like a piece of jewelry. “You’re the one breaking commandments set down by the prophet Moses!”

  “Priorities, dearest,” Nath sighed. He ran to the black-shrouded woman, who screeched and flung her arms up against him, as if to fend off a deadly attack. The general grabbed the device from her and returned to Piras, pulling his belt off. “Let me make things easier on you.”

  The woman identified as Sister Miriam screeched anew, getting the attention of the stupefied soldiers who’d been racing by as she’d reappeared. “Demons! Demons in the high command!” She was grabbed and led away by the confused men.

  Meanwhile, Charity squalled at her father, “Hey, that’s my phase!”

  “Charity, have some sense,” Hope rebuked as Nath strapped his belt around Copeland’s waist and attached the device to it. She gave her sister a little jerk.

  The general snarled at the prisoner as Piras let the Holy Leader go. “Take it off, Copeland, and I’ll blast your dick to shreds.”

  Copeland was not nearly as impressive naked and shivering as he was in his robes. He still wore a haughty expression as he tried to stare down the other man. “You will burn in Hell, traitor.”

  “If that’s true, it’ll be worth it to watch you burn too.”

  Piras shoved his blaster against Copeland’s jaw. “Move your ugly ass and don’t give me another reason to kill you. I already have more than I can count.”

  They were on the move again, Copeland’s moment of arrogance fading. He began to weep, especially as he stared at the people passing them by without a clue he was being taken away. Piras and Nath kept their blasters trained on their prisoner as Hope and Charity followed.

  A door opened and a woman’s bruised face peered out. A second and a third joined her, staring at the soldiers racing past. Piras stopped and stared at him. His stomach dropped to his feet. “Mother of All.”

  “Copeland’s wives,” Nath said. He glanced at Piras. “You’re concerned for what will happen to them?”

  “Don’t you remember? I made last minute changes to the plan,” Piras said. “I forgot—oh no.”

  He stared at the curious faces before him. At the three or four faces farther back in a dormitory-like room which showed little emotion at all. Faces of women waiting to die. Perhaps wishing for it, rather than having to continue as Copeland’s wives.

  Nath knew what Piras’s changed plans entailed, though not why. It was a measure of the Earther’s trust that he gripped the admiral’s shoulder. “Look, they never had a chance anyway. This bastard—” he snarled at Copeland’s bent head “—has made it clear if we’re ever captured by Kalquorians, the women are to be executed before they can be taken.”

  “What about my classmates, Dad?” Charity’s face had gone white. “What about Susan?”

  Piras shut his eyes. How could he have not factored the poor females into his plans? He couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep leading innocents to slaughter, not even to save the Empire.

  “Admiral. Piras.” Nath’s voice was urgent. “Without more phase devices, we can’t help them. There are less than two dozen women and girls on this ship. Compared to the hundreds on Haven, there is no choice.”

  Piras shuddered. He opened his eyes to stare at the general. “This is not about trading lives. Every last one of them matters.”

  Hope appealed to her father. “Dad, we can’t leave them here. They’ve already been through so much!”

  Borey’s expression reflected the tragedy yet to occur. “I know. Unfortunately, the bigger picture has to be made the priority. The important thing is to stop Copeland and get to Maf. To finish their madness forever.”

  He was right. The argument was logical. But then, all the arguments which had led to Piras sacrificing hundreds of lives to get to this point had been logical too. Each had cost him a little piece of his character.

  Piras looked up and down the corridor. About twenty soldiers remained, still moving about in confusion. Not so many. If he unphased, took advantage of the surprise—

  “We’ll never make it to the shuttle bay with just three of us armed. Not if we’re also trying to protect these women. Not even with Copelan
d as a hostage.” Nath was adamant.

  Piras didn’t know how to argue against the terrible reasoning which made so much sense. More than anything, he wanted to get Hope to safety. Her welfare was more important to him than anything else. He’d risked the entire mission because Charity was her sister. Yet he couldn’t make himself turn his back on the fearful, whispering women who continued to stare out from the doorway of Copeland’s unholy harem.

  As he struggled, trying to find some solution no matter how outrageous, the matter was abruptly settled for him. The corridor around them rippled, as if reality wavered. Their surroundings steadied again, but the half dozen Earther guards coming down the corridor towards them froze. They stared in shock. Hands moved towards blasters holstered on hips.

  Hope’s horrified gasp rang loud in the sudden silence. “The phases stopped working!”

  Piras snarled and shoved his blaster against Copeland’s temple, growling at the Earthers in warning. As they hesitated, he said, “No. The whole ship is phased, so everyone on it is on the same plane as we are. Kila must have figured out something was wrong.”

  Watching the enemy carefully, Piras grabbed his com off his belt. He stared at all the frequencies of the coms he’d ignored in his rush to save Charity and Nath. As he’d feared, they came from Kila’s private link and the destroyer’s.

  Nath also made sure the uncertain crew saw his blaster trained on Copeland. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  Piras swallowed, thinking of the odds they’d make it to his shuttle now that they were visible. “Captain Kila has orders. If anything seems amiss while I am gone, he is to start the plan.” He swallowed hard, staring at Hope and thinking how he’d failed her. “The attack against the Basma’s forces has begun. If we don’t get off this ship right away, we’ll die.”

  * * * *

  “All the battlecruisers we outfitted are successfully phased, Captain.” Lokmi’s tone was grudging, letting Kila know he wasn’t happy Piras had likely been left in a lurch. The success of the Imdiko’s phasing strategy couldn’t mitigate the awful uncertainty of what had befallen their clanmate.

  Kila felt no pleasure over their initial triumph either. If Piras had found the kind of trouble which would have led to him phasing himself, then his invisibility to the Earther crew on the Sword of Truth had ended the moment the vessel phased too. Piras’s orders had been clear, however. If anything at all went awry while he was away from Kila’s destroyer, the fight was to start right away. “Don’t come racing in to save me like last time,” Piras had insisted. “My safety at this point has no bearing on the mission.”

  Kila thought of when Piras had disappeared without warning back on Kalquor. Finding him bound helplessly while being tortured by an angry group of bloodthirsty Nobeks was the stuff of nightmares.

  You’d better be all right, you son of a bitch. Don’t you get yourself fucking killed.

  No, Kila was not happy about the situation at all, not even seeing the vast stretches of empty space where a number of deadly Earther vessels had been moments before.

  Veko spoke up, interrupting Kila’s anxious thoughts. “The Walls of Jericho’s captain confirms his crew has killed or captured the small complement of Kalquorians assigned to his ship. Those Earthers loyal to Copeland have been neutralized as well.”

  That was good news at least. “Tell the Walls of Jericho to stand by.”

  “Sir, we also have communications coming in for Admiral Piras. Everyone wants to know where those Earther ships have disappeared to. Now we’re receiving a com from Dramok Sitrel.”

  Kila banished Piras to the back of his mind with effort. “Ignore them. Mostar, begin the next phase of the operation.”

  “Commencing weapons systems takeover. Running the program now.”

  A few breathless seconds passed. Kila glanced at Lokmi. His Imdiko stared at Mostar, his body thrumming with tension. If Piras’s program didn’t work, the missing battlecruisers would matter not one whit to their hopes of success. They had to have compromised at least half the destroyers, or Haven and Rokan were lost.

  It took merely moments, but it felt like forever before Mostar’s constant skeptical expression eased into mere wariness. “System takeover confirmed. I am in control.”

  “Run the fighting program.” Kila could feel a bloodthirsty grin pulling at his lips, growing, eating up his face. It was not an expression of pleasure. The Nobek wasn’t merry by any means, not with Piras missing. It was Kila’s most ominous smile, the one he wore when he was ready to kill anyone and everyone who had ever deserved it.

  All at once, the bank of large-scale vids at the front of the bridge lit up in blazing fury against the black canvas of space. The quiet flotilla of warships became a view of sheer chaos. Destroyers fired on destroyers in a cataclysmic orgy of destruction. Uls made a sound that reminded Kila of a woman’s giggle, as unintended and uncontrollable as Kila’s fierce leer. The first officer and helmsman’s fingers flew across his controls. He ran the program which guided the enemy vessels into attack patterns on the unphased battlecruisers, bringing them into the unexpected combat.

  Except for grim Lokmi, the never-smiling Mostar, and Kila with his murderous sneer, the crew on the bridge acted giddy at the initial success of their plan. The battlecruisers which remained operative were returning fire on the destroyers and sending out one-man fighters to boot. Only the ‘cruisers that had been taken out of the equation by General Nath’s saboteurs hung back. Kila knew they might still join the melee, even with crippled engines and inoperable weaponry. He’d seen the suicide attacks such ships had launched during Armageddon.

  Veko sounded chipper as he reported, “Communications are overwhelmed, Captain. I can’t make out any particular signal. The frequencies are stepping all over each other.”

  “What of the com block?”

  “So far, it is holding. It is hard to be sure if it is operational since no one is trying to reach the Basma at this point. They’re too busy yelling at each other to stop attacking.”

  “Ah, sweet chaos. Enjoy it, men.” Kila wished he could take as much enjoyment from the situation as the rest of them were, but he was too damned worried about Piras. He forced himself once more to not consider his missing clanmate. Instead, he aimed his attention at the one vid screen which showed no sign of fighting yet. He asked for confirmation of what his eyes told him. “Uls, what’s the status of Haven and Rokan’s defenders?”

  “The Imperial defenders are forming up into attack squads. It appears they are readying to come in and finish what we started. We are directly in the path of one of those squads.”

  Kila caught Lokmi’s dark gaze aimed his way. The Imdiko’s tone was testy as he started to speak. “Captain—”

  “Yes, Chief. With it all going so well, this is not our party, as much fun as it would be to join in. Phase us.” Kila mind raced. The Basma’s force was going down. Surely that allowed him to make some attempt to find his Dramok, if he could ensure they finished the job they’d started? “Uls, get me within spitting distance of Copeland’s ship. Mostar, be ready to defend us without destroying our admiral and friends.”

  “On our way, Captain.”

  “Ready on weapons, Captain.”

  “Phase enabled,” Lokmi confirmed.

  The missing battlecruisers reappeared on the vid screen. Those vessels moved about confusedly, shooting at destroyers firing on the un-phased Earther ships. Kila wondered what they thought as their shots passed through the destroyers without doing any harm.

  His gaze riveted on the Sword of Truth, which didn’t fire on anything. The Holy Leader’s vessel wasn’t moving at all. It hung where Kila had grown used to seeing it, one mote of calm in the storm of fighting. Did the outward placidness mask chaos within? What was going on over there?

  The control he’d exercised since ordering the plan to be carried out had started to fray. Kila needed to know what had happened to his clanmate. He was more than willing to risk his own neck to f
ind out. He snapped, “Com, try to raise the admiral again.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Damn it, answer me this time, Piras. Tell me you and Hope are all right.”

  He watched the fight continue, the Sword of Truth growing larger in the monitor, and listened for his Dramok’s voice.

  * * * *

  Hope kept an eye on the group’s rear as they resumed their march to the shuttle bay. She held her blaster at the ready, making sure the crewmembers they passed were aware she could open fire if they tried to stop them. A myriad of expressions marked their progress. Shock; probably from both Copeland’s nudity as well as the fact her father and Piras held blasters to his head. Not to mention Copeland’s black-robed wives, also aiming blasters in wordless threat as Hope did. With Copeland being threatened by Piras and Nath, several soldiers had been forced to give up their arms to the wives.

  The five girls taken from Charity’s classes, including her best friend Sarah, huddled in the middle of the group, protected by the others. Two of her sister’s classmates had both parents with them. Another tiny girl, motherless like Hope and Charity, gripped her father’s hand tightly. The other two schoolgirls were orphans.

  The soldiers the group passed stared at them with fury. Faces openly assessed the situation, as if each man weighed his chances of leaping to the Voice of God’s rescue and coming out with his own hide intact. As if each one wondered if the women would indeed pull the trigger on them.

  Hope couldn’t answer for Copeland’s wives, but she had no doubt she would blast everyone to hell if they dared to challenge her. Her father and sister’s lives hung on whether or not they could get to the shuttle. Piras’s life was also on the line. It came as no surprise to Hope that he mattered as much to her as her dad and Charity. What did amaze her was the realization she’d moved beyond simple infatuation for the alien admiral.

  Yet this was no time to consider her feelings for the big Kalquorian whose back she was watching out for right now. Nor for the other two men she hoped to live to see again.