by Ian Woodhead
The ships in dock were no better. The only difference being that the harsh environment beyond the confines of the facility had, over time, either burnt off or frozen off anything attached to the ships, leaving pitted and scratched bare metal. Faylar would love to know how old these thing were. As old as this facility? Possibly. Even as old as the Martian base.
Perhaps she should not be so critical. After all, the marauders had, despite what she saw in here, had proven themselves many times in battle with the Triumvirate. Not a bad achievement considering her side believed their equipment, training and soldiers were far superior to the enemy.
Faylar moved out of the way as two burly technicians thundered past her location and jumped onto the wings of one of the craft which didn't look as wrecked as most of the others. They scrambled over the hull, stopping every few seconds to bond what looked like their equivalent of attachment plates to the pitted metal. She had never seen anything like it. Within a few minutes, the two marauders jumped down, hurried past her and jumped onto another ship.
What had she just watched? It was clear that the marauders had just conducted miner repairs on that ship but, to her untrained eye, the vehicle didn't look all that different, apart from its outer hull now vaguely resembled a patched tunic. It also occurred to her that although they probably performed the same function as Triumvirate attachment plates, the technicians did not have to set them, suggesting that the marauders possessed nanofilamont technology which could not be right. It meant that their enemy were not quite the savage as the upper echelon in the Triumvirate command tried to make everyone believe.
Faylar screamed in fright when the ship powered up and moved a few metres away. She staggered back, not stopping until her bounding limiter made contact with another solid surface. That should not be possible. The spacecraft was clearly just a worthless hulk, it should not be able to move, and yet, it did.
This worried her greatly. This was not, as she originally assumed, a graveyard of ships but a hanger full of craft all ready to attack her next batch of ships! Faylar plucked up the courage to approach the other ship. The patchwork pattern had vanished. The plates now blended seamlessly into the hull, meaning the material had to be some kind of advanced poly mimetic alloy. They chose their space vehicles to look like they like they were about to fall apart. That made no sense at all!
Faylar filed the observation away, deciding to let the Triumvirate scientists mull over the possible implications. That is, if she ever returned and the Deck Commander did not catch her and do what he planned to do with the other prisoners.
No, that would not happen. Once the Base Commander learned of his treachery, it would be him in prison and under guard. Faylar hurried away from the spacecraft and a little closer towards the marauders. As she approached a small group, she saw something else which shocked her rigid.
The marauders were not a single species! Two other mammalian creature made up the marauder's own Triumvirate. Faylar paused, after a moment's observation, it became clear that the others did not enjoy the same privileges as the large saurons. In fact, the more she watched their interactions, the more convinced she became that the mammals were slave races. This also brought up the question of their origin.
The most likely answer was they evolved on their same world as the saurons. If that was the case then how how the two mammalian species survived contact with the saurons? She imagined a world where all three species evolved from lower lifeforms into the sentient creatures Faylar saw in front of her. They had to have originally existed on separate landmasses. No mammalian could have risen to sentience, not with sharing the same territory as the sauron evolutionary ancestors. Come to think of it, how had the two sentient mammals even survived first contact with each other never mind the saurons.
Could there be any other any other explanation? Vat grown artificial organisms perhaps? The marauders would possess the scientific know-how needed to create two slave races from either a pre-designed genetic base template or a cross-species amalgam using their own stripped down DNA as the scaffold. Another perfectly plausible explanation with just two obvious errors.
Why even bother? The time and energy needed to undergo such a formidable and complex task would far outweigh the obvious benefits. Simple mechanical automatons would suit the purpose for a fraction of the cost. Also, why mammals? That made no sense to her at all. Would the sauron be more comfortable with a creature similar in appearance?
She sighed loudly, again deciding to leave the debate for minds more at ease with this sort of problem. She walked back over to the area where she first appeared, still marvelling at the apparent similarity to the old Velicion controlled Martian base.
Faylar's physical existence came into being during their last interstellar war with the Velicions. Hundreds of years after the Danu left their blue home and set foot on the fourth planet.
Like the humans after them, a hundred thousand years later, those Danu explorers inadvertently activated the ancient defence Mechs left there by the original builders of the planetary base.
The time between the utter shock of discovering the Danu were not the first intelligent species to evolve on the blue world left the Danu sciencemasters with only one option, to permanently alter the very being of their race. They lost their pacifistic attitude and, as some later wordmasters explained, adopted a frame of state more akin to the savage apemen from where they evolved.
This tinkering with their base code created a Danu a better adapted fighter, able to confront the stronger, more aggressive Velicion and win.
Faylar found herself frowning, as it just occurred to her that those first gallant Danu explorers really should have met with the same gruesome end like those first human Martian astronauts. Yet, they did not. The explorers were, admittedly, caught by surprise when the Mechs first attacked and did suffer casualties. They were still able to fight back, effectively melting at least two of those ancient metal monsters before working out how to deactivate the rest of them.
How could that have been possible? They were pure unaltered Danu, not having a single aggressive bone in their body. It did not make sense, unless they too, it seemed, were possessed by the unborn spirit of Taylish.
Faylar spotted a view screen and found herself walking towards it. Possessed by the unborn spirit of Taylish? Where had that insane thought appeared from? She so wanted to dismiss that idea as total nonsense but the thought stubbornly refused to leave. Many notions so recently seeing the light of day could be equally dismissed as nonsense and yet they had indeed happened.
The viewscreen flickered to life, showing, at first, moving static. Faylar moved a little closer, eager to witness what, or who would appear. The static abruptly vanished and a most unexpected face glared back at her.
“Deck Commander!” she gasped.
“I should have known you were responsible for totally ruining my plans, Faylar. After all, who else could have unlocked that cell door? I blame myself as I should have realised a lot earlier before this situation became so hideously complex and possibly devastating for not only the Triumvirate but also for our shared world. I need to think about how to play this but that can't happen until all loose parameters are back under control and that, my pretty little creature now includes you.”
The Deck Commander momentarily turned away from the screen and issued an order to someone hidden from Faylar. She sensed movement behind her and turned her head. All the ships in the facility were now silently floating on AG systems while heading, in double file, towards the vast opening at the end of the building. The bay-doors had already opened to show hundreds of other Marauder ships flying past. This was an armada! If they were all en-route to Mars, there was no possibly chance of stopping them. Faylar reluctantly returned her gaze to the screen when the Deck Commander resumed speaking.
“I've sent two of my men to your location. You will go with them and await further orders.” He smiled. “At least I know that you will do everything I tell you. After all, you are a
Danu.” The image suddenly went black. She closed her eyes and fought back a single sob.
Upon opening her eyes, Faylar received a second shock to her system. The Marauder facility had vanished. She was back in her previous location, standing in front of the door that, very soon, would open to the faces of Triumvirate soldiers ready to escort Faylar to possibly a prison cell to await her almost certain termination. More hot tears ran down her cheeks. The Deck Commander was indeed correct in his assumption. Faylar would not be going anywhere, even though staying meant death.
The shock of hearing his ominous words almost overwhelmed the equally shocking experience of finding herself back here after her little trip to that outer planetery moon. It is only when Faylar attempted to access communications when it became clear of what had happened to her was no freak happen-stance.
He had locked her out of everything. No matter what she tried, the access to the outside remained dead. She could not warn the Base Commander or share the valuable information she now possessed. That Deck Commander was in communication with someone on that facility. It was the dying remnants of a previous carrier wave that caught Faylar's essence. It is also clear that he had no clue that Faylar knew this. If he learned, then her death really would be a certainty. The only question remained was how had it happened?
This question continued to elude her, even when the man’s loyal soldiers arrived at her door. As they shackled her and forced the woman down a deserted corridor, Faylar decided that there must be higher forces at work, a force even higher than Lady Light herself. This made her feel so much better as well as removing the initial hate she felt for her abductors. For they, like her, were just simple game pieces, moving, without their knowledge, along a path where only that higher force knew of the eventual destination.
Chapter Fifteen
Loss and Gain
Those bastards had thrown him into the midst of a civil war! Todd passed another magazine to Villas then hurried back to join the main group. He fumbled around, trying and failing to insert it into the gun's slot while whimpering and moaning, wishing he was still strapped to that metal bed. Sure, he faced certain death back then, the dreaded weight of knowing their execution method almost squashed his soul but at least nobody was firing at him. “Will you stop that!” he screamed. Villas screamed even louder when a couple of seeker rounds smacked into the wall right where his head was until a second ago.
Villas finally managed to slam the magazine in. He took aim behind his barrier and gently squeezed the trigger. The resulting agonising shriek brought such a sense of joy to his poor, overworked heart. “Oh, yeah!” he yelled. “We have seekers too, you know.” Villas squeezed off another shot. This one didn't claim a target but it did have the result of forcing their attackers back to their previous position. “Run! Get out of here while you still can. We are the ones who cleared the marauders out of here. You are like children compared to them!”
“Will you shut your fucking mouth,” hissed Todd.
Villas jumped. He had no idea the man had returned. The Bluelander slammed another seeker magazine into his palm. Todd almost turned the gun on Todd. How dare he speak to him like that. If it wasn't for Villas bravely volunteering for this dangerous rearguard action, the others would probably be dead by now. He didn't. The Bluelander scared him. Villas knew that the Danu medical treatment had altered Todd, making him more prone to unpredictable mood swings, as well as increased strength and speed. Villas had already witnessed this a few moments before they reached this junction. “Sorry,” he replied. “I tend to get a little worked up when I'm scared.”
“Well, don't. This is the last magazine. Keep them busy for a few more moments.” Having said his piece, the Bluelander left him.
The Triumvirate soldiers had crept back. Villas fired again before any of them had chance to open fire on him. He fired again before risking a look over his shoulder. The others were at the other end of the junction, trading fire with another group of Triumvirate soldiers. What depressed him more than anything was he didn't have a clue which faction any of them belonged to.
He cast his thoughts back to the moment before leaving that holding area, wishing he could return to that almost euphoric state. For the first time since his teenage years, Villas actually believed he had found his family. A small group of individuals who'd listen to his wisdom, be supportive as well as watching his back under any dangerous situation. Looking back at his previous state of mind, Villas decided that one of those bastards must have slapped a beltmade hallucinogenic freedom patch on his skin without him knowing.
The short-lived effects lasted all the way up to them reaching the exit. The Danu pilot had already searched the guards and found the man's override passcard. They were practically free! Villas had even shelved plans to slip away from the others when the time was right, believing, actually believing that rescuing Ryan was their highest priority.
Two seeker rounds followed by an armour-piercing slug jolted Villas back to the present. He flattened his body against the wall, moaning in horror at the mess that slug had made to his barricade. Another few centimetres closer and Villas would have been no more! He looked back at the others, dismayed to find they hadn't even noticed how close he'd been to dying just now. Oh no, they were too busy fighting with the other faction to care what happened to him.
So much for having a new family to look after him. What else did he honestly expect from a bunch of strangers? He should have left them the first chance he got. Villas was better off alone. This harsh lesson had been engraved into his soul long ago. For the life in him, he couldn’t work out what happened that made him change his mind. Facing imminent death? That happened before and at no point had he started glorifying his past in search for answers for his present situation.
Villas managed to fire off two more seeker rounds without the other soldiers' excessive returning weapons fire finding him and turning his body into a pile of broiled meat. Both his shots missed but they did have the benefit of making those bastards stay undercover. He fired off one more shot, this time, he took aim. That missed too, it did take out a chunk of Danu covering, exposing part of the old wall, giving Villas, for the time, full view of his opponents. They were little more than kids!
Back when the Triumvirate took him away, they gave him the option of jail time or joining up. He chose to spend his punishment locked up. Still, he could well have taken the other choice, the others incarcerated at the same time did. He lowered his weapon. Did those bastards still practice this vile method of forced conscription? Villas threw himself down when another shot bounced off the wall above him.
He couldn't return fire, not against a bunch of children. It felt more like murder than anything else. Villas lifted his head a couple of inches off the floor. What was wrong with him? Like he honestly cared about their damn age! The little bastards were trying to kill him so he needed to get there first. This philosophy had served him quite satisfactory over the years, to change it in the middle of a fucking firefight was insane!
Yet, his sales talk refused to budge this nagging fear, this alien-like intruding thought that to kill them would be the biggest mistake of his life.
It honestly felt like something or perhaps someone had possessed Villas, or at least, trying to take control of of ambiguous morality. He sighed to himself. More like the recent events involving that damn bluelander had given back his own conscience the balls to start questioning his judgement again.
No matter how he played this in his mind, Villas now saw just one option left to return to the others, he fired off several more shots, making sure they all went wide before he raced back.
The Velicion was nowhere to be seen, the Danu had taken a shot to the lower leg and the two humans were pinned down with several Triumvirate soldiers advancing on them. Villas flattened his body against the wall and continuously squeezed the trigger, not stopping until the gun went dry. He took out three soldiers and wounded two more. He had no issue with killing those bastards which di
d bring a momentary sense of relief to his confused mind.
He waited until it was safe before checking on Todd and Barnaby. The humans displayed an emotion that he'd never seen before, at least, not for him. It was gratitude. That quickly changed to shock, fear then anger when three seeker rounds, coming from behind Villas smacked into one of the bulkheads, close to the Danu. It appeared that the kiddie soldiers had finally worked out that he'd left his post.
“What the fuck are you doing, Villas, you idiot,” screamed Todd. “You're supposed to be over there, protecting our rear.”
“Thank you for appearing just in time to save our lives,” muttered Villas, running past the two humans. “Oh, you're very welcome, any time. Thank you. Don't mention it.” He scanned the area in front of them again . The other soldiers had moved back, dragging their wounded comrade with them. Villas crouched beside the pilot. “How bad is it? Will your medkit fix the damage?”
The Danu nodded. “Yes, but I am unable to reach it.”
Villas leaned over the Danu's stomach, pulled the medkit out and placed it into his palm. He waited impatiently for the pilot to apply the treatment, while giving covering fire so the other two humans could reach them. They might only be kids, but the little shits sure knew how to fight.
“Do you know where the Velicion went?”
“He's left us,” snapped Barnaby. “The dirty lizard got out while he could and left us all to die. He's probably already making his way through those secret tunnels to a hanger bay that only his species knows about.”
“Deep down, I suspect that even you knows that is not true. Your uncontrolled emotions are ruling your self-control. You are upset, I understand this.” The pilot lifted his arm. Villas grabbed it and gently helped him up. “I think that you know in your heart that our companion would not desert us. I believe that he will be trying to locate a route which would help to avoid spilling any more human blood.”
