by Tripp Ellis
The administrator smirked.
Diesel wondered how long it would take him to figure out that Flur wasn't the Prince, if he hadn't already.
"I don't think you're really in a position to make demands,” Lytok said.
"I beg to differ,” Diesel responded.
“Do as she says," Flur said in a commanding, regal tone. "You are needlessly putting my life in jeopardy. The consequences of my death could be catastrophic for our two species. Decades of peace between us could suddenly vanish."
“I am sure the relationship between our kind will endure for quite some time,” the administrator said. He motioned to several guards waiting in an adjacent corridor. They marched Rex and Cyclops into the hallway.
Diesel’s face tensed. She knew what the administrator was up to.
"Let the Prince go, or your friends die," Lytok said.
Diesel hesitated a moment. It was a moment too long. The administrator aimed his pistol at Rex's head and pulled the trigger. A glowing bolt of plasma blasted from the handgun, incinerating Rex's skull. His lifeless body crashed to the deck.
Cyclops watched in terror.
Diesel's stomach twisted in knots. She felt nauseous. Her hesitation had gotten the man killed.
The administrator adjusted his aim, sighting in on Cyclops. "You are quickly running out of friends. What's it going to be?"
Diesel gritted her teeth. She watched as the administrator tightened his grip, ready to squeeze the trigger. She moved her pistol away from Flur's head and raised her hands in the air.
"Smart choice," Lytok said. "Set the weapon on the deck.”
Diesel knelt down and slowly set the weapon down.
Flur scurried away from her and stood beside Lytok. "Thank God. These barbarians killed my crew. I can assure you, you will be handsomely rewarded."
The administrator beamed with pride. "I'm glad you are unharmed. I would not have wanted to explain your demise to your father."
The guards quickly surrounded Diesel and Cole. Plasma rifles took aim.
”Take them away,” Lytok said. “Let them spend the rest of their lives working in the mines. It is most assuredly a fate worse than death."
The guards marched Diesel, Cole, and Cyclops back to the holding cell with the other would-be miners. Several hundred prisoners were contained in a large hall. The living conditions were appalling. It smelled like stale body odor and excrement. There were no showers or toilets—just slop buckets that were rarely emptied. They would be housed in this area until the next transport ship came to take them to a work colony.
52
Zack
Vuul's eyes widened with shock and disbelief. He glanced down to see the tip of a plasma sword protruding from his chest. The glowing blue edges of the blade sizzled.
Honor had stabbed him in the back.
She withdrew the blade and was ready to strike again, but the hulking Emperor dropped to his knees, then flopped to the ground.
Honor deactivated the sword and raced to Zack. She helped him stand, and he staggered to his feet.
"I owe you one."
She smiled at him. "I think we’re even."
Honor helped him over to his severed appendage. Zack never imagined that he would be staring at his arm lying on the floor. He reached down and picked it up. If he got to a medical facility in time there was a chance it could be reattached. He tried to look on the bright side of things. At least the heat from the plasma blade cauterized the wound. Otherwise he would have bled out on the palace floor.
Another explosion rocked the structure. The ground quaked, and the walls shook. Debris fell from the ceiling.
Zack and Honor scurried out of the structure onto the tarmac. There were no ships left on the landing pad. They had all been used to evacuate the palace.
Zack's heart sank. Charlie had left them behind. They were most likely going to be stuck on this planet, and Zack didn't imagine that he’d find too many allies.
“What are we going to do?" Honor asked.
Zack scanned the area. There was a small utility vehicle on the far side of the landing area. There was no way this vehicle had a quantum drive, and Zack wasn't even sure if it would make it past the atmosphere. There was likely a reason that had been left behind. Combined with the fact that he didn't know how to fly, it didn't make for a promising option.
Zack and Honor didn't have much choice. They headed across the tarmac for the vehicle and hoped for the best.
They had made it halfway across the tarmac when Zack felt a rush of hot air blast over him. He looked overhead to see a dropship swooping down. Heat distorted the air below the thrusters as the ship landed on the tarmac. An instant later, the back ramp opened and Charlie appeared. He waved them on.
Zack and Honor ran up the back ramp and into the cargo area.
Charlie pressed the button on the bulkhead and hydraulics whirred as the back ramp raised shut.
"I thought you left us." Zack said.
"I took out some of the palace’s defensive cannons from the air," Charlie said. "It will make my job easier when I return with resistance fighters to overthrow the Emperor."
"No need to worry about that. Vuul is dead."
Charlie looked pleasantly surprised. He rushed to a storage locker and pulled out a med kit. He took out an ampule and loaded it into an injection gun. "This will help with the pain. At least, I think it will help with the pain. I've never used it on a human before."
Zack gave him a skeptical glance.
"Or you could grin and bear it?"
Zack pondered this for a moment. "Give me the shot."
Charlie injected the medication into Zack's remaining arm. He instantly felt warmth expand from the injection site. A wave of euphoria washed over his body. Within moments, he felt no pain whatsoever. Everything was perfect. The deep trauma of losing a limb faded. A dumb smile curled up on his lips.
"This stuff is pretty good," Zack slurred as he struggled to get the words out. He found himself having a hard time forming sentences.
"I'm impressed. You killed Vuul. That was no easy task!” Charlie said.
"Not me," Zack said. He motioned to Honor with a proud grin. "She killed him.”
"So, you are the one the prophecy spoke of?”
Honor shrugged. "I don't know anything about any prophecy."
"Well, it's nice to meet you,” Charlie said. "You've made my life a lot easier."
Charlie climbed into the pilot seat and throttled the engines up. The vehicle lifted from the ground. Honor helped Zack strap into a safety harness, then she buckled in as well.
Zack held his arm on his lap. It was a surreal sensation. He held it up and jiggled it like some kind of rubber toy. He chuckled with amusement. Whatever the pain medication was that Charlie gave him, it made Zack high as a kite.
Charlie pulled back on the controls and angled the vehicle toward space. He throttled up and blasted through the upper atmosphere. The vehicle rumbled and shook as it climbed through the clouds. The ride became smooth and Zack felt himself lift from his seat as they entered the weightlessness of space. In his drug-induced stupor, he had let go of his arm and it was now floating about the cabin. Zack pointed and laughed.
Honor released herself from her safety harness and floated across the cabin to retrieve it. She grabbed his arm, then pushed off the opposite bulkhead and returned to her seat. She figured it was best if she kept track of the arm from here on out.
"Hey, give it back," Zack said.
"Later," she said.
"It's my arm, and I want it back."
"You're just going to lose it again."
"No I'm not."
Honor rolled her eyes. There was no arguing with him in this condition. "Trust me. I'll look after it."
Zack shrugged. "Okay. Whatever you say."
Charlie plotted jump coordinates, then engaged the slide-space drive. The bulkheads rippled and distorted and the ship vanished from the orbit around the planet.
&nb
sp; "Where are we going?" Honor asked, calling up to the cockpit.
Charlie craned his neck back to the cargo area, “He needs immediate medical attention. We need to get him to resistance forces."
A few minutes later the dropship emerged from slide-space in an empty region of space. Charlie needed to make a quick jump away from Lusova before the Navy was on top of them. Vuul had many loyalists within the fleet, and they would no doubt be scrutinizing space traffic closely. It was only a matter of time before someone attempted to fill Vuul’s void.
Charlie sent and encoded subspace communication to resistance forces. He apprised them of the situation and was given coordinates to their current location. He programmed the coordinates and then made another quantum jump.
45 minutes later, the ship emerged from slide-space in the Beta Helion sector. There was a large destroyer hovering in the inky blackness of space, surrounded by several other warships.
Honor grew concerned at the site. "Are you sure those are friendly ships?”
"It's Captain Vesplata. He belongs to the resistance. He and his followers defected and took control of these ships.”
A voice crackled over the comm line, requesting identification. Charlie responded and was authorized to land. He angled the vehicle towards the flight deck and adjusted his speed. He had a perfect trajectory, and within moments he landed the dropship on the flight deck.
Charlie sprang out of his seat and marched to the back ramp and opened the hatch. Hydraulics whirred as the ramp lowered, and Charlie assisted Zack down to the flight deck.
They were greeted by a cadre of armed guards and medical technicians. Their faces twisted up, perplexed at the site of Zack and Honor.
“He needs medical attention immediately," Charlie said.
"You want to help humans?" One of the soldiers said.
"This human facilitated my escape," Charlie said in a stern tone. His intense gaze was enough to make the guards back down and cower in fear.
“Yes, Admiral.”
The medical technicians heaved Zack onto a floating gurney, then pushed him through a maze of corridors to the med center. The sailors aboard the ship gawked at the humans. Most of them had never seen a human in person.
Honor tried to smile at the strange aliens, but the discomfort on her face was evident.
Zack didn't feel a thing. He just pointed and laughed at the creatures as they passed them by. They looked even stranger to him in his altered state of mind.
The doctor had a look of horror on his face as they entered. He saw Honor holding the severed arm and cringed. "I don't have the resources to deal with this kind of injury. Not to mention, our machines are not calibrated for humans."
Charlie glared at the doctor. He wasn't buying it. The anatomy wasn't all that different. He figured it was more likely that the doctor didn't want to help a human. "You will do everything in your power to help them. Is that clear?"
The doc stammered. “Yes, sir. I can inject the appendage with the compound that may help preserve the tissue. Apply some disinfectant. Perhaps that will hold him over until he can get to a facility that is more experienced in treating his kind."
Charlie clenched his jaw. He unholstered his plasma pistol and placed it against the doctor’s head. Nothing more needed to be said.
"There may be something I can do," the doctor said.
"Re-attach his arm. If it doesn't function at 100%, you're going to need to learn how to re-attach your own head."
The doc swallowed hard.
53
Diesel
Cyclops slumped against the bulkhead with a solemn look on his face. His eyes fixed at a point and he just stared into space. He looked devastated.
"I'm sorry," Diesel said, sitting beside him. "It's my fault. I feel terrible."
"It ain't your fault." The muscles in Cyclops’s jaw flexed and twitched. "But let me tell you, I get a hold of that weaselly little alien, he's going to wish he was never born."
There was nothing Diesel could say to make the situation any better.
The sea of prisoners moped about the containment hall. It was a dismal and depressing place. With no hope of salvation, most of them were just counting down the days until their demise. This was no way to live. And the conditions on the mining colonies were likely even worse.
"I don't have any friends left," Cyclops said.
Diesel frowned. "It probably doesn't count for much, but I'd like you to consider me a friend."
Cyclops's stoic face remained expressionless for a moment. Then a sly grin curled on his lips, and he arched an eyebrow at Diesel. "Friends with benefits?"
Diesel rolled her eyes.
"Just checking. You can't blame a guy for trying."
The containment area had a circular shape. The exterior bulkhead had small viewports that offered a glimpse of space. Groups of prisoners conglomerated around the small windows. It was the only form of entertainment, short of the occasional fight amongst inmates. It was more than just a window to the cosmos—it was a window to hope. Staring out into the blackness of space offered a chance to fantasize about a potential future—about a life outside of confinement.
Diesel observed more than one shoving match occur as prisoners vied for an optimal view. Under normal circumstances, none of these prisoners would have glanced out of the window for more than a passing second. But now, some felt compelled to stand for hours, daydreaming.
Diesel heard the muffled sound of two plasma bursts in the corridor. Seconds later, the red force field that blocked the entranceway deactivated.
The inmates stared for a moment, expecting guards to flood into the compartment—but none entered.
Diesel saw Flur poke his head into the compartment and wave the prisoners on. "Come on. Hurry!"
Diesel sprang to her feet and ran to the entrance. "What are you doing?"
“Isn't it obvious? I'm rescuing you." Flur said. He tossed her a plasma rifle.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Flur shrugged. "I told you. I don't really like these assholes. Now let's hurry before they figure out what's going on."
Cole grabbed a plasma rifle from one of the dead guards.
"The armory is this way," Flur said. Diesel and the others followed him. The swarm of prisoners flooded into the corridor and weaved through the passageways.
At the armory, they snatched every last plasma rifle, pistol, and grenade. The angry mob then barreled through the corridors, heading toward the CIC. Now armed, they made a formidable force.
The first Tarvaax patrol that had the misfortune of crossing their path was eviscerated by a flurry of plasma bolts. The prisoners scavenged their weapons and moved on.
It wasn't long before an alarm sounded and guards filled the hallway. But the vengeful mob made short work of the overwhelmed Tarvaax guards.
By the time they reached the CIC, it was locked down. The hatch was thermally shielded, and it wasn't going to be easy to override the locking mechanism.
Plasma bolts streaked through the corridors as guards advanced from either end of the hallway.
The mob of prisoners returned fire. Glowing projectiles streaked in all directions. The corridors filled with haze, and the sharp smell of ionized plasma.
Cyclops ripped the access panel from the bulkhead and fumbled with the wiring, trying to gain entry to the CIC.
The mob of prisoners made short work of the unprepared Tarvaax.
Cyclops rewired the locking mechanism, and the hatch slid open. The angry mob flooded into the CIC.
A flurry of plasma bolts erupted from within the compartment as the command crew defended their position. It was chaos. Several sizzling bolts zipped past Diesel. She peppered the enemy targets. Sparks showered from control terminals and bulkheads as plasma projectiles impacted.
Several prisoners crashed to the deck with gaping wounds. But the firefight only lasted a few seconds. The mob overwhelmed the command crew. Every Tarvaax with a weapon was now dead. Thick smoke fi
lled the air. Consoles crackled and popped as they smoldered. The remaining Tarvaax sailors had their hands high in the air.
"Face down, on the ground, now!" Diesel yelled.
The frightened sailors complied.
Diesel and her ragtag warriors took control. They rounded up the sailors, forced the helmsmen back to their positions.
“Plot jump coordinates for the Gamma Epsilon sector,” Diesel commanded.
The helmsman shrugged and acted like he didn't understand.
"Flur, tell this slug if he doesn't jump the station now, I'm going to paint the console with his brains,” Diesel growled.
Flur translated.
Within a few minutes, the helmsman had programmed in the coordinates. Flur double checked that they were correct and gave a nod of approval to Diesel.
Gamma Epsilon was the home of one of the largest UPDF bases. The sudden appearance of a Tarvaax space station would definitely draw some attention. Once they had arrived, they would need to maintain control of the CIC until Federation forces could infiltrate the space station and take control.
"Engage the slide-space drive," Diesel commanded.
54
Charlie
"I was beginning to think I was never going to see you again, Admiral Tovark,” Captain Vesplata said.
Charlie grinned and shook the captain’s hand. The two greeted each other in the CIC of the TWS Expa. It was bustling with activity, and the amber glow of the instrument clusters lit the faces of the Tarvaax sailors.
"I'll send word to the rest the resistance that you’re reassuming command of the fleet."
"How many ships do we have?"
"13, with the addition of the Culvasa.”
Charlie grimaced. "That's not enough."
"When news of the Emperor's demise spreads, more captains might be persuaded to defect.”
“Half the fleet is loyal to the Emperor, the other half has designs on the throne. Admiral Nevansk and Admiral Bluvaar will be our biggest challenges. "
