by Scott Baron
Sarah lovingly placed her hand on Finn’s cheek, staring into his eyes, then lunged in for one more kiss before pulling away.
“We’ll continue this discussion later,” she said with a wink.
“Come on, Omar could really use our help,” George said, leading the way along the shoreline.
They’d only walked a few steps when he just couldn’t help himself any longer.
“So, Finn. Nice work back there,” George said.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I mean, damn, man. You really are a killer.”
“I told you,” Finn said, glancing over at Sarah and throwing her a wink. “I’m a chef. Killing aliens is just a hobby.”
George let out an amused laugh.
“You’re a fucking riot, you know that?”
“I try,” Finn said. “Hang on a minute, will ya? I need a quick rinse before this shit dries on.”
“Good idea,” George agreed, and all three stepped into the shallows to wash the blood of their enemies from their bodies.
While a fair amount of the blood on the two men was their own, Sarah’s clothing was nearly entirely free of her own sanguine fluids. George looked at her, perplexed. Finn was just too happy to see it, but something was very wrong with Sarah. He’d seen what had happened to her, and as fond of her as he was, she should have been dead.
“Hey, Sarah,” he began. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out here. There’s something I’m kinda confused by. Don’t take it personally, but you should be dead.”
“Oh, I know,” Sarah said with a bright laugh. “Believe you me, I am very aware of that fact. That’s twice that I was supposed to die. It’s gotta be a record or something.”
“Please don’t go for the hat trick,” Finn said.
Sarah leaned over and gave him a tender kiss. “Not to worry, babe. I have no intentions of leaving you.”
“Ahem,” George interrupted. “You were saying?”
“Ah, yes. Sorry,” she said, blushing slightly as she cut her embrace short and trudged back to the shoreline.
“So the thing is, when I was fighting the Ra’az, my nanite arm wasn’t quite doing what I wanted it to do. I could sense it, and was almost connecting to it, but it just wasn’t working. But then when that fucker shoved me under and I wound up with my lungs full of water, the nanites finally connected with me. Then I knew it would be okay.”
“Ah, sorry,” George said. “That didn’t really clarify things.”
“Oh, right. You didn’t know about the lungs.”
“What about your lungs?”
“When Freya’s nanites repaired my arm, they also reconstructed my damaged organs. My lungs had been destroyed by the vacuum when I was blasted into space, you see, so they built me new ones. They replaced them with millions of clever little nanites, and today, they introduced themselves to me.”
“Hang on, your lungs are a nanite-composite?” George asked.
“Yeah.”
“But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t drown, Sarah.”
“Think about it, George. They’re nanites. They function on a molecular level.”
“Right, but the drowning thing?”
“You really are dense for an AI sometimes, you know that?” she teased. “Okay, I’ll give you a hint. What’s the chemical symbol for water?”
“H2O,” he replied.
“Exactly. And aside from the one hydrogen molecule, what are the other two molecules in water?”
Suddenly, George realized what she was getting at.
“She’s trying to say she can breathe underwater, dude,” Finn said. “Jeez, even I got it already.”
“They broke the H2O into its component parts, ferrying the hydrogen out of your body, while absorbing the oxygen into it,” George marveled. “Holy shit, now that’s inspired. Even by AI standards, that’s some seriously clever stuff you’ve got going on in there,” he said, appreciatively.
“Thanks. I guess I can add breathing underwater to my list of things I didn’t know I could do,” Sarah said with a happy little grin.
They reached Omar a minute later, sitting where George had left him. He was bloody, he was sore, but he was alive. The same could not be said for their Chithiid rebel friends, unfortunately.
The skies above were beginning to darken, making the lights from the battle above more clearly visible. The fighting, it seemed, was still fierce.
“I wonder if we’re winning,” Finn mused.
“From what I can tell, it looks like a stalemate so far. And our ships seem to be having a tough time making it to the surface,” George noted. “How you feeling, Omar?”
Their injured friend took a long draught from his electrolyte pouch, then reclined with an exhausted sigh.
“I need a nap,” he said with a pained chuckle.
“Doesn’t sound like that’s gonna happen anytime soon,” George said apologetically.
“Well, then. I guess we head toward the fighting,” he said, reluctantly climbing to his feet. Omar shouldered his gear then turned to leave when he noticed his drenched friend.
“Sarah, what happened to you? You’re all wet.”
Finn looked at her and smiled. “Omar, my friend, you might want to sit back down,” he said with a knowing grin. “You’re going to love this.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The fighting in the skies above Taangaar was heavy and continuous well into the following day, while the Chithiid rebellion on the ground gained speed as word of just who exactly it was fighting up there spread through the camps.
Having their long-lost families return home, fighting to free them from the shackles of servitude, inspired several of the enslaved Chithiid who were already living their lives on edge to attack their keepers. Without a support network available to them yet, those who did were punished, and harshly at that.
Word was quickly spread among the denizens of Taangaar by the sparse rebel forces embedded among them that help was indeed coming, but until the tide of the battle above was swayed, reinforcements and supplies would be limited to a few key areas.
The Chithiid, with their great numerical advantage, decided the time to act was now, and utilizing their strength in numbers, many of the internment settlements were taken over in a wave of home-grown rebellion.
Weapons were seized as the loyalist guards and their Ra’az masters were driven back to their strongholds overlooking the work camps. Unfortunately for the Chithiid, the small arms they had managed to secure were no match for the thick walls and powerful weapons of the Ra’az fortresses.
In addition, sorties of small, yet armed loyalist vessels made strafing runs against any Chithiid who ventured too close to their fortified bases. They were most certainly on a defensive footing, but it was one that was well entrenched and utterly inaccessible by ground forces.
Only two of all the hundreds of vessels in the combined human and Chithiid fleet had any success at all against the Ra’az facilities. But Freya and Marty could only do so much. They were but a pair of relatively small ships, and while their weapons systems were indeed impressive against most enemies, they simply were not designed for terrestrial assaults on heavily reinforced ground bases.
But that didn’t stop them from making jumps all over the planet, springing up unexpectedly to give aid to the rebellious conscripts and keeping the Ra’az and their loyalists on their heels, never knowing where those mysterious ships would appear next.
Often, they would take out a few loyalist ships as they attempted to engage the rebels on the ground, but in a manner that allowed the other loyalist craft to see them. Then the dark ships––that mysteriously would not show on any scans––would blow their prey from the sky and vanish.
That in itself would be enough to keep the Ra’az and their lackeys guessing, but every so often, rather than moving to another target, the unidentifiable ships would suddenly reappear and make a strafing run against their base, or
destroy another of their ships nearby.
The uncertainty provided a small degree of relief for the forces amassing on the ground, but it wasn’t enough. The numbers and will were there, but without a means to penetrate the Ra’az strongholds, all the millions of riled-up Chithiid at their gates could do was wait.
“How’re you coming with getting us some heavier firepower down here?” Daisy asked the fleet over comms. “The ground forces are getting their asses handed to them whenever they move on the Ra’az facilities.”
“We’re making progress,” Celeste messaged back. “Hang on a sec. Zed, where do we stand on diverting some resources to help the rebellion on the surface?”
“Their strongholds have pretty serious defensive weaponry. I’m afraid it’s going to take some heavy firepower to get through that, and with the battle stations and cruisers still engaged with us up here, we need every gun we have at the moment. I’m sorry I don’t have better news, Daisy.”
“I understand,” she replied, crestfallen. “It’s just, we’re so close down here. All they need is that window of opportunity to let them act.”
“We are aware of your situation, Daisy, and as soon as we can peel some ships free, we’ll send them down to see about piercing the Ra’az defensive network down there,” Celeste said. “But for the moment, I’m afraid we must press our advantage against the Ra’az forces in space while things are still swinging in our favor. If we can finally take out just a few more of their key battle stations, the rest of their defensive fleet will fall like dominoes.”
“Then you’d best get back to it,” Daisy said.
“We haven’t stopped,” Celeste replied. “Good luck down there, Daisy.”
“Thanks.”
The comms went silent, leaving Freya and Marty to deal with the hundreds of entrenched positions as best they could.
“Daisy, Marty says a bunch of the Ra’az fortresses have found a way to communicate using a daisy chain of local comms between them,” Arlo informed her over their comms. “They’re coordinating their counter attacks against the rebels and are sending out ground squads of heavily armed loyalists covered by some limited air support.”
“Shit. How many?”
“Too many for us to engage all of them, I’m afraid. And they’ve released packs of those hound things in a few areas as well.”
“The rebels can take care of those,” Daisy said.
“I know, but they’re scattering the rebel lines in the process,” he replied.
“Making it easier for their hunter teams to pick off the rebels we managed to arm,” Daisy realized. “Shit. That’s actually a clever plan, and I don’t know how we can stop them.”
“We can’t,” Freya chimed in. “I’m sorry, Daisy, but I’ve run the calculations and spoken with Marty. The number of facilities and spread of their ground squads engaging the rebels is too great for us to be effective. We’ll have to pick a battle to help out in and stick with it.”
“Leaving the others defenseless.”
“It’s not an easy choice, but it’s the right one,” Freya said, making the hard tactical decision.
“I’m glad to hear you have matured in your tactical analysis, Freya,” an amused voice said over what they had believed were encrypted and secured comms.
“Who the hell is this?” Daisy shouted. “How did you get on our comms frequency?”
“Just an old friend dropping in to lend a hand. I figured you guys could use some help. Sorry it took so long. There were, uh, logistical issues I had to deal with.”
Glowing orange from its entry into the atmosphere, a massive Ra’az freighter barreled toward the surface, sending out a huge sonic boom as it did so. All eyes on the ground, Chithiid and otherwise, looked up to marvel at the sight.
“Joshua? Is that you?” Daisy said, recognizing the voice.
“Hi, Daisy,” the tiny ship, scuffed and scorched and latched to the freighter’s hull, guiding its commandeered systems, replied.
“But how––?”
“Long story,” he interrupted. “Maybe Freya will want to tell you while I’m winning this ground war for you. Back in a jiff.”
The enormous freighter shuddered as it powered through the atmosphere, its sheer bulk straining the engines to the max. The vessel had never been designed for the types of maneuvers the tiny stealth craft clinging to its skin was making it perform, but Joshua didn’t care. He only needed it to last for this one thing.
Once the initial shock wore off, the fighting on the ground continued, the Ra’az picked up their intensity as what appeared to be one of their own craft had appeared. Surely it was carrying provisions, and possibly even reinforcement troops from above.
They were wrong.
“Joshua, what exactly are you doing?” Daisy asked, confused. “I mean, I know you’re a great tactician––”
“The best tactician,” Freya corrected her, a note of pride in her voice.
“Semantics, Freya,” Sarah joked. “But nice to see you’re still crushing on the guy.”
“Bite me, Sarah,” the AI shot back.
“Guys, shut it. Talking here!” Daisy barked. “What I’m trying to say is a freighter, even one that big, can’t do much good down here. I mean, even full of troops, that’s a drop in the bucket against all the Ra’az we’ve got to face.”
“Oh, Daisy,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You forget the lesson your own Chithiid fleet so recently employed.”
“Kick ass and take names?”
“That too, but no. What I’m referring to is the old Trojan trick.”
“I get it. So you snuck in, letting the Ra’az defenses think you were carrying Ra’az troops,” Daisy said appreciatively. “But you’re really carrying rebels. That’s inspired, Joshua.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “But you’re only partially right. I’m not carrying rebel troops, you see.”
The massive freighter tilted on its axis, allowing all of its enormous stowage compartment doors to slide open. The huge vessel shuddered as its cargo warmed up and took to the skies.
“This is more akin to a little game one of my men––Duke, whom you’ve met–– kept joking about over the last few hundred years. He called it ‘Piñata Roulette,’ though I suppose, technically, no one is hitting this ship with a stick, and it sure as hell isn’t filled with bees,” he said with a laugh. “These are a good bit deadlier.”
A deafening shriek filled the sky as hundreds upon hundreds of hypersonic missiles scavenged from Earth’s silos took flight, moving at blinding speeds across the globe, targeting the unknowing Ra’az strongholds. In no time at all, dozens of the nearest fortresses were in smoldering ruins, rent open for the Chithiid rebel forces to pour into to finish the job.
It would only be a matter of minutes before the more distant facilities met with the same fate.
“But we couldn’t make those fly,” Freya blurted in a rare moment of confusion. “And we had the command codes and everything.”
“I know,” Joshua replied. “You were just missing the key ingredient. The special sauce, as it were.”
“What was that?”
“Why, me, of course,” he said with a laugh as the missiles flew true in a massive, global firestorm of ass-kicking glory.
“You care to fill us in?” Daisy asked.
“It was never just the codes, Daisy. That was crucial, of course, but I had the final access key locked away in my data stores.”
“And you kept that secret from everyone.”
“Yep.”
“Even your friends.”
“Especially my friends,” he replied. “Operational security, Daisy. Secrets remain secret, lest they no longer be secret.”
“You’re just as odd as ever, Joshua,” she said with a little laugh.
“Hey, lay off him,” Freya said, defensively.
“Ah, there you are,” Joshua said. “Thank you for sticking up for me. And thank you for building me this body. I didn’t express my gratitud
e properly before, Freya, but with all that’s happened, I had a little time to think, and I was a bit, um, abrupt with you.”
“Well, I was kind of a bitch, too,” she replied.
“Oh, no doubt about that,” he said with a chuckle. “But what I want to say is I’m sorry, and thank you for saving my life.”
Freya felt a strange sensation welling up inside her processors. From what Daisy had talked about, she assumed it must be akin to those butterflies she’d always complained about fluttering around in her stomach.
“So, we’re good, then?” she asked.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Would somebody please tell me what the hell’s going on?” Daisy interrupted.
“Sure thing, Daisy,” Joshua said.
“Yeah, no problem,” Freya added, happily. “Now, where should we begin?”
High above, the fleet commanders had barely noticed the freighter that had warped into their midst, squawking the rebel ident code allowing it unfettered passage as it dove straight for the atmosphere. But now there was no way any of the vessels above could possibly miss the global destruction of so many Ra’az bases.
“What the hell was that?” Celeste asked over open comms as she watched explosions blossom across the planet’s surface below.
“Hell if I know,” Captain Harkaway said, observing from nearby aboard Mal, safe in her command pod. “Whatever it was, it just won us the war.”
Maarl observed the events below with tears welling up in all four of his eyes. The communications were already coming in. The Ra’az strongholds were falling across the planet, and the Chithiid workers were reclaiming territory after territory. After so many centuries, Taangaar was finally free.
The writing was on the wall for the Ra’az still fighting from orbit. There was no sense in continuing the battle over a lost planet.
The battle stations were still unable to warp, as were most of the ships in the fleet. A few of their older craft had remained relatively unaffected by the virus, and retained their warp capabilities. It was those ships the Ra’az evacuated to as quickly as they could, leaving their loyalist followers to man the battlements and hold off the rebel fleet while they made their escape.
