Invasion

by L. E. Thomas

  Whenever he could see the sky, he watched the Interceptors flying in pairs over the city. They shot overhead, so high they were mere pinpoints of metal in the sunlight. Sometimes they shot into high orbit, scratching a white line across the sky as they flew toward the awaiting Justice.

  What would it be like to fly amongst the stars? To be alone in the cockpit with nothing but a canopy between you and space? To feel the sheer power of an engine hurling you forward at incredible speeds?

  The incline steepened. His right boot slipped on gravel, and he raised his hands to break the fall. Sharp rocks sliced into his palms, but he pushed himself off the ground.

  "Nat!" Soola gasped, running up behind him.

  "I'm fine!" he hissed, wiping the blood on his thigh.

  Shaking his head, he continued up the uneven surface.

  You need to focus.

  It became his mantra for the rest of the run. Pushing away thoughts of the past or dreams of flying an Interceptor, he concentrated on placing one boot in front of the other, watching for loose rocks or dead branches in the dirt that could cause him to fall again.

  The path narrowed, allowing only one cadet at a time to pass. On his left, a vast ravine emerged between the trees. Far below, a river snaked through the mountains. A fall here could mean certain death.

  Yes, he thought, better focus on the run.

  Cadets passed him. He returned the favor. On and on they trudged through the problematic mountain path. His mouth went dry, his chest burned. The sense of competition faded, replaced by fatigue from the morning run. He only thought of his boots and aching muscles.

  Tox appeared overhead in his hovering pod, his left leg hanging out the edge as he banked in a full circle over their position.

  "Don't slow now!" he screamed through the speakers. "Any of you can't hack it, and you'll run it again!"

  The thought gave Nat a surge of adrenaline. He heard others whimpering as they ran, someone vomited into a bush while others groaned in protest. The sound of chunky liquid splattering on the rocks seemed to force the group to run faster.

  They may have slowed, but no one stopped as they rounded the jagged peak peppered with a few trees. Tox hovered over the center, turning his pod to the side as he shouted at the cadets.

  But Nat didn't mind.

  He rounded the top and started down, passing Soola on the way. Her skin glowed, her cheeks splotchy, but she managed a brief smile before they moved.

  Other than avoiding cadets at the rear still pushing for the top, going down was, of course, easier. He still had to keep his eyes on the trail, watching for loose rocks and debris, but he continued with a smile.

  The Beast didn't get him today.

  Another cadet actually passed him on the last stretch, blowing past in an incredible burst of speed. Nat smelled the body odor coming off the guy but couldn't see his face. He tried to reach deep inside to find the energy to continue. The other cadet was just too fast.

  The taller cadet reached the APC first, startling the two Marines smoking on the path. The third jolted to the position at the dual cannon, squinting up the mountain path. Water coolers were brought from storage bays underneath the APC, but neither Nat nor the victorious cadet took part as they walked around in circles like fighters about to clash.

  Nat remembered what Tox had said about running and quickly stretched, glaring at the taller, older cadet.

  He should have known: It was Cal Hoxter, the golden boy of their class.

  Hoxter was lanky with pale skin and blue eyes as bright as the sky. Would have been a poster boy for the Ceroq government ... if it still existed. All his life, Nat grew up expecting Ceroq to attack Oshua and start another great war like the ones of his grandfathers. When the other neighborhood kids played war in the backyard, the "bad guys" were always Ceroqans who looked like Cal Hoxter in his imagination.

  The flash of hatred disappeared.

  There would be no more future Oshua-Ceroq wars. Not anymore.

  "Nice run," Nat offered, taking a deep breath.

  "I know," Cal said, stepping to the water coolers and laughing. "I actually just needed something to drink. Running faster got me to it."

  They gulped water in silence. More cadets, sweaty and some bloodied from stray branches, appeared from the trees. Nat and Cal stared at the path. Would anyone break down and force them to run again?

  Nat counted the final cadet jogging with a bad limp down the hill. As the guy got closer, he could tell it was Sadro Fon who always brought up the rear on their runs. Still, Sadro's stellar performance in the sessions and simulations kept him from becoming a whipping boy for the entire class.

  Cal sighed. "Guess we don't have to go again."

  "No," Nat said. "I could have done another."

  It was a lie. Everyone within earshot probably knew it but boasting was expected. It was part of the ritual, the boasting and grand pronouncements of one's abilities as part of the experience.

  "I could have run The Beast twice more," Cal said after a pause. "Easy."

  "Just twice?" Soola asked.

  Nat turned around. Soola leaned up against the APC, her proud and familiar smile revealing perfect white teeth beneath dry, cracked lips.

  After a pause, the cadets all laughed. Nat took a drink, looking around at his classmates. For the first time in a while, he remembered his gym classes in school before the days of the Zahl Empire. The class back then had been mostly made up of bullies and the bullied, the athletic and those not gifted. There was no true camaraderie between them.

  These cadets, though, were different. They'd been through the most significant changes in the history of their world, and they had done it together. They were his family now. He needed to make the most of it. Someday, he would be in the cockpit of an Interceptor, flying far from this place and leaving his past behind him.

  Tox's pod rushed over the tree line, the thrust parting the branches as it flew toward the APC. After the speakers squawked a final zinger at Sadro's slow finish, Tox placed the microphone on his dashboard, and the pod hovered to its charging station on the back of the APC. The turbines were still hissing to a stop as he unbuckled the safety harness and climbed out.

  "Well done, cadets," he said, climbing down the ladder. His boots pounded the gravel and his spun around. "Even you Sadro! Nice of you not to show up your fellow classmates!"

  Sadro gasped, wiping his face on his sleeves. "Thank you, Captain."

  Placing his hands on his hips, Tox looked around with approval at the group. He put his beret on his head as if he would be judged by its appearance and took a deep breath.

  "I want you people to remember days like these," he said, his eyes on the ground. "You may not know it, but you've come a long way since joining the first class of the Yesro Vraun Academy. These are the first steps on your path leading to a position within the Zahlian Navy. We are the unstoppable light spreading order to the galaxy. We are the Emperor's will in motion. One day, you will be a crucial part of that force. You'll look back on these days and say, 'this is where it started.'"

  The final words echoed through the forest. Nat stared at Tox's face, saw the faint scar over his left eye. Through his studies, he knew the Empire had the surgical means to cover up such scars. He wondered why the Captain had chosen to keep it. Maybe one day, he would ask him.

  He had hated Tox at first, even went so far as to hope the resistance managed to kill him. But his feelings had changed over time. He realized the man was a wealth of knowledge and experience, oozing respect. The other officers called him a "true-born," meaning he hailed from the Zahlian Prime Worlds. The more time Nat spent in his presence, the more he valued Tox's honor.

  Tox wasn't a father figure by any means—he physically beat too many of the now washed-out cadets for that. Some of the others still whispered insults about Tox, but not Nat. Somehow, he knew Tox was doing it for their own good. One day, they would realize it. Rather than wish for time away from Tox as other cadets did, Nat wanted
to soak up every minute because Tox—and his training—would be a ticket out of here and into the cockpit of an Interceptor.

  "Everyone hydrated?" Tox asked, taking a drink. "Good. Climb aboard."

  The sun cast long shadows through the trees as the cadets piled into the APC. Soola sat next to him, her shoulder pressing against his as Cal collapsed on the bench on the opposite side of the vehicle, his eyes rolling back into his head. Even in the low light, Nat could see Cal's energy burst at the end of the run had taken more of a toll than he wanted to admit. But he stayed silent instead as the Marines closed the rear doors and the engine cranked. Soon, the interior reeked of body odor. Nat leaned back into the cold steel and sighed. His eyelids lowered and grew heavy as they rolled away from The Beast and back toward the Academy.

  He was almost asleep when the APC hit the brakes. The tires skidded through the gravel. The cadets slid across the benches toward the front. Tox smacked the wall.

  "What the hell's going on?" he demanded, leaning between the two Marines in the APC's cab.

  "Tree's down across the path," the driver said, thrusting his finger forward. "Big, too."

  Tox snorted. "Blast the thing. We need to get back."

  "Yes, sir," the driver nodded at the other Marine who tossed the hatch back and climbed to the turret, leaving only his legs in view.

  The cannons hummed to life as the weapons swiveled into place.

  A flash of light shot into the APC, followed by a shower of sparks. The Marine's legs thrashed. The cadets inhaled in unison. Nat stared in shock, unsure what had just occurred. Tox reacted first, reaching up and grabbing the Marine's belt. He yanked him into the vehicle, revealing what had actually happened.

  With the faceplate still up, Nat could see the flesh on the soldier's cheek had melted into a swirl of red and black powder burns, his face contorting as an inhuman bellow shrieked from his mouth.

  "Back up!" Tox screamed at the driver, breaking Nat's trance. "Go! Go!"

  The driver responded in haste, the cadets lurching as the APC sped in reverse up the mountain. Some fell to the floor in a heap. Through it all, Nat heard three distant blasts in quick succession. The ground beneath the APC rumbled.

  In the darkness, Soola clasped his hand as she trembled.

  "Jaymed!" Tox shouted, pointing at one of the Marines at the rear of the APC. "Get on the '77 and lay down fire—"

  He never finished his sentence. The APC crashed into something. Hard. Metal pounded stone, jolting the cadets back. One of the rear doors bent toward them, revealing the darkening sky beyond and a pile of boulders blocking the path.

  The Marine, Jaymed, grunted, shook his head and slammed his helmet shut. Before it closed, Nat saw blood running down his face.

  "Ambush!" the driver cried, eyes bulging as he stared at Tox. "What do we do?"

  Tox slapped the driver's helmet. "Drive!"

  "Where? The—"

  "Through the tree, damn it!"

  The driver accelerated the APC forward, the engine roaring. The cadets got back to their positions, some securing their harnesses that a moment before seemed unnecessary while others looked around, eyes bulging. Nat's heart pounded, his damp palms covered in sweat as he looked over Tox's shoulder at the massive tree in their path. Soola grabbed his forearm. He gripped her and braced himself as the APC rolled toward the obstacle.

  The vehicle smashed into the tree, slowed and stopped. The engine strained, but the APC had stopped moving. The cadets rocked forward. Nat's ears were ringing as he held onto Soola. His head had hit the wall, leaving him fuzzy, lightheaded.

  "Everyone out!" Tox yelled. "We need—"

  An explosion ripped into the vehicle, thrusting it on its side. For a dragging moment, the APC hovered.

  And then it crashed to the ground, tumbling down the mountainside. The cadets who hadn't secured their harnesses smashed into one another, bodies spinning around and colliding.

  Nat held onto Soola as long as he could until a solid object struck the back of his head. Pain flashed as he braced himself, trying to remain conscious until the darkness bled into his vision, the sounds growing muffled and fading into nothing.

  Chapter Nine

  The salty taste of blood came to him before he opened his eyes, filling his mouth with a copper film. Others grunted and moaned around him. He raised his head, his vision blurry.

  The APC had ended up on its side. All the contents had tossed around like the inside of a washing machine. Arms and legs were twisted in unnatural shapes. Soola lay draped across his chest, her hair in a tangle, her beret lost in the chaotic mess.

  Something crackled nearby, and he smelled something burning. The rear doors of the APC had ripped off in the fall. Through the opening, he saw the twilight sky illuminating the path of destruction they had made in the plummet from the road. Trees and brush had been smashed under the weight of the armored vehicle. He squinted, thinking he saw movement on the path above.

  How long have I been out?

  He nudged Soola. “You all right?”

  She grunted, her body growing rigid.

  “Hey,” he repeated. “We need to wake up.”

  “Cadet.”

  The voice sounded loud in the relative silence. As Soola slid off his chest, he turned to the shadowy figure near the front of the APC.

  “Captain Tox?”

  He snorted. “Driver’s dead.” He stepped forward, pressing a laser rifle to Nat’s chest. “Take this.”

  Nat nodded, gripping the weapon as if it would lash out at him. He had only fired an MC-17 three times since joining the Academy, and those had been on a shooting range inside, against holographic targets.

  “Get out there and shoot anything coming down that mountain,” Tox said, sifting around among the other cadets. “I need to find a communicator.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nat said, pulling Soola to her feet. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

  “Find another weapon, and both of you get out there,” Tox ordered. “I’m sure those cowards would love nothing more than to get some prisoners for leverage. We’re not going to let that happen.”

  “Who are they, Captain?”

  Tox froze and stared at Nat. “Are you dense, cadet?” He pointed up the mountain. “It’s the resistance. I order you to defend this position. Give me a minute, and we’ll get some more of us out there to help you. Move it!”

  Nat snapped to attention and marched into the fresh air, ignoring the pounding in his head and the pain of his split lip. He raised the rifle toward the path two hundred yards above them.

  No movement.

  He crouched and shuffled to a downed tree trunk big enough to shield him.

  Soola remained inside the APC, searching the ground in the lowlight for a weapon. A moment later, she picked up a rifle from an unconscious Marine and scurried next to Nat. She exhaled, her breath raspy.

  “Can you see anything?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Not really.”

  Although the sun had not entirely set, the forest appeared as dark and ominous as night. A piece of the APC burned about a stone’s throw from their position, flickering a spattering of orange light onto the gravel and brush. Nat frowned as he examined the debris.

  The APC’s dual cannon had broken off in the violent descent. He couldn’t tell if the Marine’s body had been thrown from the vehicle, wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

  His heart thudded as he pressed himself to the cold rock. The forest remained as silent as a crypt. Blood rushed through his ringing ears.

  Whoever out there had caused this attack was from this planet, just like him. Would he know them? Would he be able to shoot another citizen of Oshua?

  He shook his head.

  They planned to do the same to me, he thought.

  Gripping the rifle, he took a deep breath.

  More cadets groaned from inside the APC as they regain consciousness. He could hear Tox offering words of encouragement mixed with his authoritative
tone. Another deep voice joined the conversation—Jaymed, the Marine. Equipment shuffled around inside, loudly echoing in the forest. Nat winced at the noise.

  “I don’t even know if I remember how to fire this thing,” Soola whispered, almost to herself. “I’m scared.”

  He touched her shoulder. “Just point, keep the butt tucked close to your arm, and squeeze the trigger,” he offered, staring back up the mountain. “I’m hoping whoever attacked us is done for the night.”

  Even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. In the fading light, he saw Soola smile. Maybe she believed my little fib …

  Tox appeared at the edge of the doorway, pressing himself against the steel and staring up the mountain. The firelight flickered off his angular face, a red gash on his chin bleeding onto his chest and soiling his uniform.

  He glanced at Nat. “See anything, cadet?”

  Nat grimaced. “Something’s moving up there on the path. Can’t see much.”

  Tox nodded. “I’m sending you Jaymed and Cal. Keep an eye out. We’re calling for extract.” He turned back toward the darkness. “Go! Go!”

  Two figures emerged from the blackness, the stout Marine in full armor and the lanky Ceroqan. They stumbled over the uneven ground and collapsed into the brush. Cal wiped his face on his sleeve and searched the mountainside, a pistol in his hand.

  “Help.”

  Nat froze. The four of them outside the APC seemed to hold their breaths. Had he really heard someone?

  “Please … help.”

  Jaymed raised his faceplate and squinted. “Someone’s up there.”

  Nat looked to the burning wreckage of the turret. “He must be there.”

  Jaymed stared for a moment. “Zak!” he hissed. “Is that you?”

  A pause. “Jaymed … I’m hurt, man. Bad.”