The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  “Don’t lie, whelp,” Rissard spat. “You know perfectly well – they are the bombs that you are to take to Mitikas, and use to destroy it.”

  “Wh—” Enrique started, sounding as confused as Kelly was herself.

  “The star bombs that you will fly in the ATAFs!” Rissard interrupted. “The bombs you have built to erase the memory of Mitikas! TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE!”

  Enrique said nothing. Rissard stared at him for a while longer, before withdrawing and turning to face Kelly. Their eyes met for a moment, before Kelly looked to Enrique and then to the soldiers in the room. Star bombs? What was the man talking about? She’d never heard of any such thing in her life. Was this another feint? Was he just trying to extract more information from them, via creative talking?

  “Hmmm,” Rissard said. “You really don’t know. Never mind, it doesn’t matter. They will never find their way to the Empire. Like everything you have mustered, they will be turned against you, as your own knife blade, used to stab the heart of Helios and her allies. If you are lucky, you will live to see that day.”

  Rissard then gave another order and the clasps binding Kelly to the metal chair were released. In her drained state, it felt as though they were the only things that had been supporting her. Sapped of all strength, and with her body shaking almost uncontrollably, she slid out of the chair and slumped forward onto the floor. She tried to stand, but was instead yanked off the floor by the soldier who had been brandishing the knife. Along with the other, he held her in place, awaiting further instructions from Rissard.

  Rissard turned to the two armed soldiers who still stood silently by, issuing another order, and pointing to Enrique. The two removed his restraints and hauled him up from the seat, holding him securely about the arms.

  “Take the traitor and the woman back to their cell,” Rissard said, looking to Enrique as he spoke. “They are to remain there until we receive orders from the fleet admiral.”

  It was clear to Kelly that he spoke for the benefit of Enrique and herself, taunting them. She caught Enrique’s expression as the soldiers began to move, pulling the two pilots along with them. His eyes were furious.

  Enrique, don’t—

  “Coward,” Enrique said.

  Rissard’s face suddenly darkened. He raised his hand and barked a word, causing all four soldiers to halt in their tracks and turn to face the commodore.

  “What did you say, runt?” Rissard said, in a low voice.

  Enrique…!

  “I said you’re a coward, Rissard,” Enrique repeated. “You hide behind your lackeys, delegate, to disguise your own intimidation by a superior opponent, and flee in the face of a challenge.” He looked to Kelly. “You only pick on the easiest targets.”

  As Kelly attempted to balance herself on uncertain legs, she met Rissard’s eyes, seeing the displeasure deep within them. The man’s eyes then flashed back over to the soldiers who gripped Enrique. To them he gave an order and the pair released him.

  Rissard walked slowly towards Enrique, the two men locking eyes. “Coward?” he said. And in a flash, he struck Enrique a blow across the face.

  The young man staggered backward, into the two soldiers behind him, who prevented him from toppling over completely. They pushed him back upright and made room as Rissard began to circle around Enrique. Enrique recovered his composure and raised his guard, keeping a watchful eye on his opponent.

  “Enrique, what are you doing?” Kelly said, feeling panic beginning to rise within her. Enrique took no notice of her; he didn’t even look in her direction.

  “That all you got?” Enrique asked, remaining focused on his opponent.

  Rissard didn’t respond, but continued to circle just out of striking range. He then moved quickly, bringing himself toward Enrique with incredible speed, fists flying. Enrique barely moved, ducking and turning aside to avoid the blows. After four consecutive dodges, Rissard aimed a kick towards Enrique’s chest. The pilot caught it neatly in both hands, before heaving Rissard backward and taking him off his feet. Rissard toppled down onto the white marble floor, but was back up in an instant, rolling over and jumping to his feet. He raised his guard and brought himself into a ready position. Both men had tense, focused looks, their eyes narrowed and furious. Enrique closed on Rissard and they began to circle once more.

  Again, Rissard went at Enrique, the pilot parrying each blow as they came. He then caught Rissard’s arm, twisting it around his back and sweeping his legs away from beneath him. It was another fall from which Rissard recovered from fast, countering the sweep with one of his own from his downed position and thwarting Enrique’s next move. Again, they rolled away from one another and jumped back up to their feet.

  Over the years that she had known him, Kelly had seen Enrique spar against a number of opponents, training a great deal with Chaz in the past few months to hone his technique. Having watched him so many times, she was quite familiar with his approach and tactics. He had held a defensive position for the initial part of this fight, taking the chance to size up his opponent and figure out his fighting style.

  She took in an assessment of Rissard. Like the black-clad soldiers, the man was tall and appeared deceptively strong. She recalled the weeks following their return from Arlos starport and how Chaz had been keen to pit Enrique against some of Spirit’s most well-trained combatants, encouraging him to spar the tallest and most heavy-set men and women he could find. At the time, Kelly had suspected that the big man was training him for more fights like the one he had fought – and almost lost – at Arlos. Her suspicions were confirmed later on, when Chaz had suggested the same of the other Knights.

  Kelly knew that Enrique was familiar with a number of fighting styles and though he preferred to use many in a defensive capacity, he wasn’t unfamiliar with offensive techniques. She saw him shift his weight and footing, as he now prepared to apply that discipline.

  His first volley of punches met with no success, Rissard shuffling and bending backwards out of range of Enrique’s swings. The moment Enrique finished his combination, Rissard returned a blow of his own. Enrique dodged to the side, once again catching the man’s wrist in his hand, before using the new leverage to deliver three swift kicks directly to Rissard’s midsection. The commodore grunted with each kick, before breaking Enrique’s grasp and finally landing a blow to Enrique’s face. Compared with what had come before, it looked – and sounded – like a strong punch, one that seemed to catch Enrique unprepared. An instant later, Rissard followed up with a second punch, causing Enrique to stagger backwards. He recovered in time for the third, avoiding the fist and darting around to grapple the man, putting him down onto the floor with a hip throw. It was an impressive move for someone with a clear weight disadvantage.

  Blood was pouring from Enrique’s nose now, a lot more than just the trickle that had been present when he had been strapped to the chair. One side of his face was completely red, the other, black. Rissard’s blows must’ve been strong. Even so, Kelly saw a grin curling Enrique’s lip.

  “See? You’re starting to hit like a real man now,” Enrique said, shaking his hands, as if to clear the bruising. “Still a little limp though – appropriate for a coward, I guess.”

  Rissard didn’t respond, instead he sprang back to his feet and, with a snarl, the two men launched into a volley of punches, kicks and grabs. They crashed onto the floor, against the walls, and into the chairs and trolleys, their fight taking them all over the ad hoc torture room. Quips from Enrique came with each of his victories and any of Rissard’s failures.

  Kelly wished he would stop mocking his opponent. What was driving him to continue this fight? Pride? Rage? Or did he just relish the opportunity to take on one of the Empire’s most senior command in hand-to-hand combat? She didn’t know what Enrique hoped to achieve with all of this. Should he prevail in his fight against Rissard, there would be nowhere for them to run. And could he even win, anyway? Whilst the floor was strained with blood from Enrique’s nose a
nd spotted with perspiration from his forehead, Rissard didn’t even look as though he had broken a sweat. Even so, by her count Enrique had won the vast majority of the engagements, though he now looked to be flagging.

  The two soldiers that held Kelly had remained rooted to the spot like statues, not moving or saying anything. Likewise, their grip remained as iron-tight as ever, not even the slightest hint of relinquishment within their fingers as they observed the battle.

  Rissard and Enrique were apart once more, Enrique hopping up and down on the spot. Rissard’s face was still covered in a dark scowl, his teeth bared like a maddened wolf. Enrique reached out a hand towards him and made a subtle beckoning gesture with his fingers. Come and get me, it said. Rissard responded and abruptly raced forward, flying across the short distance that separated the two men, looking like he was intent on tackling Enrique and bringing him to the floor. Enrique didn’t move, but held his guard. And, as Rissard cannoned into him, Enrique fell backward, rolling with the motion and coming out on top.

  Kelly had seen this move before. It was one Enrique had practised a great deal, but had never quite managed to perfect, often either ending with Enrique not quite in the ideal position to finish up, or being an awkward mess of limbs as he and his opponent attempted to separate themselves. Whether it was because he was lacking any real conviction whilst sparring against a friend or ally, she didn’t know, but this time something had clicked and he was now in a textbook position.

  With his adversary’s arms in a poor defensive position, obstructed by knees, and his weight distribution just right, Enrique’s fists rained down hard and largely unhindered on Rissard’s head, striking his face and temples. Kelly heard something give a loud crack, and just as she thought it may have been Enrique’s bruised knuckles breaking, she saw a spray of blood erupt from Rissard’s nose. It only caused Enrique to strike all the harder.

  Rissard opened his mouth to speak, the words only just managing to leave his mouth as Enrique struck him again. The two soldiers that had once held the pilot moved forward and dragged him off the commodore.

  A heavily panting Enrique looked to Kelly. Neither spoke, but he gave her a satisfied wink. For a while, neither took their eyes off each other and Kelly felt a tiny smile forming. He had utterly disgraced Rissard, so much so that he’d had to request help. She looked to the man still lying on the floor. Rissard looked almost in shock.

  He wiped at his nose and stared at the blood now covering his fingers, appearing stunned that it was his own. He glanced at Enrique and the soldiers in disbelief, then started back to his feet. As he rose, Kelly noticed that the blood that stained his features was beginning to fade away, as if it were melting back into his skin. Even the blood he had wiped on his hand was disappearing. Rissard drew himself up and stood before Enrique, the scowl returning once more to his face.

  Enrique smiled. “See?” he said, as he panted. “Had to throw in the towel and call your boys. You’re even more yellow than I first imagined.”

  “Fun’s over,” Rissard glowered. He then issued another command to the two soldiers who held Enrique. They tightened their grip on the man, holding him up and restraining him. And with that, Rissard proceeded to beat him where he stood, his strikes hard, furious and unrelenting.

  “Enrique!” Kelly cried in horror, struggling futilely against her captors. Rissard was going to kill him. The grunts and cries of Enrique were more than she could stand. Trapped in his captors’ grasp, Enrique was at the mercy of Rissard, and she knew all too well that there would be little of that. She cried out to him some more, trying desperately to break free of her own captors, before Rissard held off his strikes to bark an order to those that held her.

  They complied immediately and dragged her from the room, taking her back in the direction of her cell. The sounds of Enrique’s voice didn’t grow any quieter in her ears.

  XI

  — No Peace of Mind —

  After what felt like an eternity of walking, Estelle and Chaz finally arrived at the beach. Their trip had become considerably more cautious after their close encounter with the Imperial patrol, outside the broadcast house. And though their journey had taken much longer than Estelle would’ve liked, they had encountered no one else, not even the brief snatches of fleeing civilians she had caught earlier. She concluded that the soldiers were performing a final sweep of the area, searching for any survivors before they moved to the other end of the city, where the plumes of smoke continued to rise.

  It had gradually grown darker and cooler as they had walked. Whether it was because the sun was setting or because it was being obscured by smoke, Estelle didn’t know, and right now she didn’t care – something further up the beach from where she was had caught her attention.

  “Chaz,” she cried, pointing toward the wreckage of two Confederation sleds. One was blackened, as though it had been set on fire. What appeared to be the grizzly remains of the passengers still sat in the seats, their flesh charred like overcooked food on a barbecue. The other sled was in a better condition, though it looked like it had come down hard. The bodies of two men lay in the sand near to it, one with black hair, the other with blonde.

  Estelle felt her stomach knot. “Hurry!” she said, and raced towards them ahead of Chaz, her feet sinking down into the soft sand. She was aware that she was making herself highly visible to anyone who might be watching, but cared little – not even if it was a trap. But as she drew closer to the two bodies, she saw that neither of the two men were Dodds or Enrique.

  She bent down to inspect the bodies, as Chaz came up next to her.

  “Dead,” he said flatly.

  Estelle turned her attention to the shore. “Oh my God …” she gasped as she saw the bodies lying there, the waves lapping gently over them. She sprang up and rushed over to them, tugging them out of the water, and flipping them over to try and identify them. None of them were alive. She moved from one body to another, giving each one only a few seconds attention, before considering the next. She looked back over to Chaz. The big man was fastidiously investigating a body that was lying face down in the sand on its own.

  “Who is it?” she asked anxiously. “Is it Dodds?”

  “No,” Chaz said. “It’s Cole.”

  Cole; Ifrit’s head of security; the man who had been charged with seeing them safely off the ship and to the ground. If he was here … “Is he still alive?” she asked, though she was certain he wouldn’t be.

  Chaz shook his head. “No. Looks like he was shot in the head with a laser.”

  Estelle felt dread grip her, but she forced herself to maintain hope. She moved from the shore and started checking over the variety of bodies that were scattered upon the sand – holiday makers, residents, local workers, adults and children alike. Just like those in the park, all had been gunned down whilst enjoying a day out. It was strange – none of the bodies had anything useful about them. She expected to maybe find something that might aid them in their survival until help arrived – a phone or a radio, maybe even a gun. Any of these things would’ve helped, but there was nothing left on any of the bodies. It looked as though they had been picked clean.

  Thoughts of Arlos came rushing back to her, the scene here reminiscent of when she had stepped out of the medical wing to find the corpses of refugees littering the port’s main hall. Just who or what was this Imperial regime that could so casually slaughter hundreds of innocent people, with such utter disregard for the sanctity of life?

  Chaz was now hauling bodies from the water. She joined him, dragging them a short way up the beach and checking them over. With each one, she found herself torn between the relief that none of them were her colleagues, and guilt for feeling this relief. Overwhelming both emotions was the fear that the very next she came to might be them. Her chest felt tight. The pills didn’t seem to be working so effectively any more. And what was worse was that there weren’t many left. She would have to try to do without.

  After she had retrieved all the b
odies that she could, she stood sodden and motionless, looking out over the waters. More forms appeared to be floating there. She contemplated swimming out to check them, too; Chaz could continue identifying those on the beach.

  She looked around to him. “Chaz, check those bodies over there, I’m going to swim out to the others. I need to find out who they are.”

  “Estelle, calm down,” Chaz said.

  “Calm down?” she glared. How could he expect her to remain calm during a time such as this?

  “Yes, calm down. Getting stressed won’t help either of us.”

  “We’re stranded on a planet that is crawling with those bastard Imperial soldiers, we have no way of contacting Confederation forces, and we don’t know what the hell’s happened to the rest of our team!”

  “Well, wherever they are, they’re not here,” Chaz said, somewhat matter-of-factly. “And there’s nothing left for us here, either. We’d best move on.”

  Estelle looked down into the face of a woman she recognised. It was one of the young women she had been speaking to in Ifrit’s bar, just before the invasion of the carrier had begun. The woman had said she saw Estelle as a role model, a great inspiration, and as someone in whose footsteps she wished to follow. Estelle couldn’t just walk away and leave her like this.

  “We should collect their ID tags,” Estelle said, unfastening the top of the woman’s jacket and pulling out the necklace that held her personal information. “We can at least help to clarify that these people were killed in the line of duty.”

  “There’s no time,” Chaz said, coming to join her. “We’ve been out in the open for far too long. Get yourself together and let’s go.”

  Estelle looked up at him incredulously. “Are you giving me an order, Lieutenant?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Chaz responded. “As you’ve already pointed out, the city is swarming with Imperial soldiers, and we don’t know how or when we might be getting off the planet.”