by Justin Sloan
“We all do,” Lien replied, “but we have faith in you and your ability to handle this, as did he. That was the reason he left you in charge.”
“Yes,” Mej said doubtfully, as if trying to convince herself.
Jilla watched them both as the small boat they were on neared the island. It was just the three of them, though air support was circling high overhead. They’d made the decision as a group that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to bring a Bandian to a meeting with the Wandarby cultists, although Jilla personally thought it would be pretty funny.
They’d decided Jilla should come along instead, to see how they reacted to a Pallicon on the enemy side.
The boat reached the shore, and Jilla hopped out and dragged it onto the beach. Mej and Lien stepped out onto dry land, and they approached the three enemy representatives.
All three of the Pallicons were dressed in the black robes of Wandarby priests. They looked almost comical standing there in their heavy garb, their arms folded into the sleeves as they waited in the hot midday sun. Their eyes widened when they saw Jilla, but none of them said anything.
Mej waited until they were about four feet away before speaking. “You wanted to meet?”
The priest in the middle nodded slightly. “We are aware one of our temple warships has been attacking you for the past several months.”
“We noticed that too,” Mej said drily.
“For this, I would like to apologize on behalf of the entirety of the Wandarby Church. They should have attempted to speak peacefully, as we are doing now, before escalating things.”
“Apology accepted. I appreciate you coming all this way. Enjoy your journey home.”
The priest held up a hand. “We are not finished. What the local temple should have done was to make the simple offer we make now: hand over every Bandian hiding in your ships, and allow us to search them to ensure you have overlooked none. We will then station soldiers on your ships for the next two solar cycles. As penance for housing members of an evil race who threatens the entire galaxy, you will donate one-tenth of all your possessions to the Wandarby Church. Are these terms acceptable?”
The corners of Mej’s mouth raised in a tiny smile. “Not remotely.”
The priest’s expression was unreadable. “Are you aware of the Bandians’ destiny? By continuing to aid them, you show yourself to be an enemy of life itself. The galaxy is a flower in a fist that prepares to—”
“Let me stop you there,” Jilla said, unable to help herself. “I’ve heard this sermon before, and it gets really boring.”
For the first time since he’d started speaking, the priest’s expression changed. His nose scrunched up in disgust. “You are a shame to your people.”
Even though this guy was an idiot cultist, that stung a little. She’d grown up around a wild mix of species on SEDE, and she’d never felt like a true member of Pallicon society. She’d always been an outsider, but instead of being used to it, that only made it hurt worse. “Maybe my people are a shame to me. This group of them, anyway.”
Mej held up a hand, silencing her. “I have a counteroffer for you. Leave now, and we won’t follow you. We’ll forget this ever happened.”
“I don’t think so,” the priest replied. “We outnumber you five to one. Your ships have been converted into boats, so they can’t even fly to defend you. What do you have?”
“We have a Pallicon named Irem.” She let that hang in the air for a moment. “He told us you’d ask for this little meetup. He also told us it was a distraction so you could flank us.”
“Irem’s a traitor and a fool,” the priest growled.
“Maybe, but he was right about this meeting. He said you had no intention of negotiating a real peace.”
“Then why’d you come?” the priest asked.
“You wanted time to get your people in position,” she said with a smile. “So did we.”
***
Kalan surged toward the Wandarby squadron in the stolen Pallicon fighter. It appeared they hadn’t been ready for the fight to begin, and now they were scrambling—just as Kalan had hoped.
“I bet these guys weren’t expecting us to bring the fight to them,” one of the other pilots said in Kalan’s headset.
“That’s life,” Kalan replied. “You don’t always get what you expect.”
Up ahead, he spotted a squadron of fighters so thick it might have been a dark cloud. Clearly there was no order to their formation. The Wandarby cult had the numbers and the technology, but when it came to military discipline they made a piss-poor showing.
He picked a target near the center of the cloud of ships and fired. As the smoke rose from the fighter, he let out an involuntary, “Yeah!”
All around him, the Lavkin fighters were laying into their Wandarby counterparts, picking them off and then ducking out of range. He had to admit the Lavkins were insanely accomplished flyers. It was a risky move, putting their fighters on the offensive rather than keeping them down where they could protect the ships, but he had felt like it would be worth it, and so had Mej. If they could keep the Wandarby off balance long enough, they might be able survive until the other part of Kalan’s plan came through.
He fired again, tagging another of the Wandarby craft in the left wing. The enemy fighter careened wildly, spiraling downward when its pilot lost control.
Then he saw it. The ship hovered a little west of the disorganized cloud of fighters. It looked exactly as Irem had described it, so he recognized it immediately: the High Priest’s ship.
It was smaller than a warship, and larger than a fighter. According to Irem, the most important dozen or so priests would be aboard that ship. The priests served as military leaders as well as spiritual ones, so if they could take down that ship they’d put a sizable hole in the Wandarby command.
Thankfully the ship had descended into Rewot’s atmosphere, so all they had to do was bring it down.
“I’ve got eyes on the High Priest’s ship,” he said into his headset.
“Roger that,” the lead pilot said. “I got it too. All fighters, target that ship.”
“They’re going to protect it with everything they’ve got,” Kalan pointed out.
“Then we’d better take it down fast.”
Kalan smiled. As hesitant as these Lavkins could be in hand-to-hand combat, it was surprising how bold they were in the skies. It was a true pleasure to fly with them.
He banked hard to the west and raced toward the ship. The cloud of fighters near it still seemed to be wildly disorganized. Their troops were already on the ground, Kalan knew, and they were likely having a tough time getting their priorities straight. Go after the Lavkin fighters, or support their troops on the ground?
Either way, the chaos wouldn’t last long. Kalan knew they had to take advantage of this moment.
Five Lavkin fighters beat Kalan to the High Priest’s ship, and they wasted no time in attempting to take it down. They hit it with a massive barrage of firepower, even while barrel-rolling and constantly shifting position to avoid the ship’s railguns.
Seeing his allies performing so well only motivated Kalan to make sure he didn’t miss out on the action. He spotted a Pallicon fighter at three o’clock and turned hard, shooting it down before it knew he was there, and went around to the other side of the High Priest’s ship.
Then he locked onto the ship and unleashed everything he had.
“It’s going down!” the squad leader shouted.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Kalan exclaimed as the High Priest’s damaged ship succumbed to gravity and tumbled toward the sea.
“This isn’t over yet,” the squad leader reminded them. “All we’ve done so far is piss them off. Let’s take care of those fighters.”
As the others in his squad set about doing just that, Kalan broke off from the group and pointed the nose of his ship downward. He had other orders to follow. The plan he’d worked out with Mej, Lien, and the others before the battle was playing out perfectl
y so far, so it was time to move on to the next step.
Just because the High Priest’s ship was going down didn’t mean Kalan was finished with it.
***
Bob stood on top of Flamebird with the detonator in his hand. As soon as Commander Larence gave him the signal he’d press the button.
“Ask the commander what we’re waiting for,” Wearl said, her voice thick with impatience.
“He already told us,” Bob replied. “We want to let as many of them get on the walkways as possible.”
As Mej had anticipated the Pallicons had made their initial landing on the island, unloading three transports’ worth of troops. The Lavkins had put up a minor show of defending the central location, but they’d quickly fallen back.
The troops from the first transport were on the network of metal walkways between the ships now, but the second and third waves were still waiting for their chance to get in on the action. The Lavkin soldiers were taking shots at the approaching enemies from the top of Flamebird, not so much to take them out as because it would have looked suspicious if they hadn’t.
Commander Larence sidled up next to Bob. “The soldiers from the second wave are almost all on the walkways. If we wait much longer, we’ll have too many on this side. Do it.”
Bob grinned. “All right. Take this, you shapeshifting bastards.” He pressed the button.
A cascade of booms rang out as the explosives planted beneath the walkways went off in quick succession.
Pallicon soldiers flew into the air, blown clear of the walkway, but more importantly, they’d destroyed the only things connecting the island and the ships. The soldiers on the island were stranded; any troops who wanted to get to the ships now would either have to do it through the air or swim for it.
A cheer went up among those gathered on the top of Flamebird, but Commander Larence whirled on them. “We’ll celebrate when the battle’s over. For now, concentrate on the enemies trying to board our damn ship.”
Larence was right. While most of the Pallicon troops were stranded on the island, a couple dozen remained on this side too. These had no choice but to attack.
“Waiting’s over, Wearl,” Bob said, drawing his weapon. He wished he had the giant rifle he’d taken from the mech on the moon of Tol, but that was still on the Grandeur. The Lavkin carbine in his hands would have to do.
“Way ahead of you,” she said, and her Shimmer-designed rifle boomed. A Pallicon climbing the side of the ship fell backwards into the water with a hole in his chest.
“Starboard side!” Commander Larence called.
Bob dashed to the starboard side of the ship in time to see ten Pallicons reach the top. He fired at the closest, hitting him in the forehead and sending him reeling over the edge.
One of them rushed forward and grabbed his arm, and Bob cried out as the creature’s fingers dug in. The Pallicon raised his weapon but Bob was faster, firing point blank and dropping the enemy soldier.
He saw movement out of the corner of his left eye and spun toward it. Commander Larence rushed up to him, a look of urgency on his face. Bob paused to see what he’d say, but the commander simply stared at him. He had a gun in his hand, and he was raising it.
Over Commander Larence’s shoulder, Bob saw something that made him gasp—another Commander Larence, this one engaged in a fight with another group of Pallicons. Wandarby weren’t allowed to use their shapeshifting abilities until they’d killed a Lavkin or a Bandian. Once they had, all bets were off.
That guy fighting the Pallicons had to be the real Commander Larence, which meant…
He shot the false Commander Larence, and the Pallicon shifted back to his true form as he died.
“Nice work!” Commander Larence called across the deck. “Everyone, stay alert like Bob. Our enemies can shift their appearance.”
“Yeah,” Bob said with a smile. “Be like me.” He had to admit, it felt pretty good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Wokana and her Lavkins were overjoyed at the news, promising to share the word with their kin in the moving city. It made sense to do so, since that would mean no more war. They invited Valerie and her team to stay for a celebratory meal, but the enemy now knew where they were. They needed to get out as soon as possible so as not to put these innocents at risk.
They were moving out to the Grandeur, a line of Lavkins trailing behind and saying farewell with the head bowing, when another signal sounded from the ship. Flynn, who had gone back early to check for trouble, appeared at the doorway.
“We have a communication from Jilla and Wearl,” he said. “Looks like they have information for us.”
Valerie and the others quickly said their farewells, making for the ship to see what was going on. Flynn pulled up the message, and there was Jilla on the screen.
“They sent it while the ship was disabled,” Flynn explained, then hit play.
“Valerie and all members of the Grandeur,” Jilla said. “If you get this, we have important information. The AI known as Aranaught has infiltrated many corners of this side of the galaxy, but we have one specific piece of intel. Aranaught has located Admiral Lolack’s second-in-command, Captain Tenowk, and is sending a sizeable force to take him out. The good news? You are close enough that if you get this message, you might be able to get there first. We hope you’ve gotten it in time, and will keep trying to reach you.”
With that the communication ended, replaced by coordinates that went straight into the system.
“Proceed?” Flynn asked.
Valerie breathed deeply as she turned to Lolack and said, “Sounds like we don’t have a choice.”
“Thank you,” Lolack replied.
“Flynn or Garcia?” Valerie frowned. “Flynn, you’re the better pilot now, right?”
Flynn nodded. “But I’ve been training Garcia just in case.”
“Smart thinking, but for now, get us to those coordinates as fast as possible. Everyone else, I know we haven’t had much time to catch our breath, but we’re off the grid now, meaning that son of a bitch AI won’t be able to take us over or shut down our power.” She glanced at Lolack, who nodded his confirmation. “We’re going to teach him not to mess with Lolack or any members of the Lost Fleet—er, sorry, Lolack’s Fleet.”
“Hell yeah!” Garcia said, followed by an “Oorah.”
“I like this one,” Lolack said, towering over Garcia as he clapped him on the shoulder.
Soon they were en route to kick some AI cyber-ass, but Arlay looked especially nervous. It couldn’t be about the upcoming fight, Valerie thought, so she leaned in and asked how she was doing.
Arlay nodded to the back and stood, so Valerie went with her. When they were out of earshot of the rest Arlay sighed and glanced around, then went into it.
“When I mentioned before that many of my people have become pirates…” Arlay glanced up at Valerie. “It’s the reason Admiral Lolack’s family didn’t approve of us being together.”
“Wait, what?” Valerie leaned forward. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this? You two were a couple?”
“No, we weren’t. We loved each other, but his parents wouldn’t hear of it. He tried to throw it all away for me, but I wouldn’t let him. I refused. I know this is very egocentric, but...when you mentioned before that Lolack left because he felt he’d lost track of what he was fighting for, I can’t help wonder…”
“If that something was you?” Valerie assessed her, impressed. “Wow! You know, that makes sense. How’s it feel to be responsible for the dissolution of the Lost Fleet?”
“Ugh, don’t say that!” Arlay would have blushed if she could have.
“Oh my God,” Valerie stood and took her hand. “I’m so sorry. I was totally not being serious. But...wow. I mean it, I’m sorry.”
“But you agree that it might have been all my fault?”
Valerie scrunched her nose in thought. She’d heard of men doing much worse for love. “Well, now it’s up to you, isn’t it
?”
“How so?”
“You two get a second chance, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to let his parents’ thoughts about it get in the way this time. Neither should you.”
“But his reputation—”
“Will be fine.” Valerie turned so she too could see Lolack, where he and Flynn were nerd-talking about hacking and how to take on the AI. “Think about it—without knowing you were there for him, he left the fleet behind. He only turned to our side back there when we mentioned your name. He needs you, Arlay, meaning the universe needs the two of you to be together.”
“Now that’s some pressure!” Arlay said with a laugh.
“Pressure toward what you both want anyway. Let it push aside any worries you have about his parents.”
Arlay nodded and thanked Valerie, then walked over to join Lolack and Flynn.
“Look at you,” Garcia said, returning from the restroom. “While you’re giving relationship advice, maybe you can help me?”
“Shut up.”
He laughed. “I’m serious! See…” He held up his right hand, then his left, looking from one to the other. “Mr. Righty here was my sole lover until lately, and he’s getting a tad jealous of Mr. Lefty, so—”
“Disgusting,” Valerie said, walking away to the sound of Garcia’s laughter.
“Help me, Val!” he called after her. “I don’t know what to do!”
“What was that about?” Robin asked, glancing at Garcia as Valerie took the nearby seat.
“Garcia being a man.”
“Oh, that’s what Mr— Yeah, got it.” Robin laughed. “Well, at least he can use those hands to kill enemies too. We’re about to need them.”
“Can we talk about something other than his hands?” Valerie asked. “I don’t need that image in my mind. Dammit, too late. Ugh…”
“Just throw yourself in there too, and at least—”
“Stop!” Valerie reached out and hit Robin in the shoulder hard. “Not funny!”
Robin kept laughing and rubbed her shoulder. “Come on now, Garcia certainly isn’t bad looking. Even if you don’t want to get serious, you could have worse fantasies.”
