by A. R. Knight
In my hands, though, I now have two pieces. Two jagged pieces, and a target in the right place. I might not be all that strong in the galaxy’s scale, but now, with all the desperation and anger and fear pulling me tight as a spring, I push and send each pointed fragment into Gar’s head. Where those small dents, those tiny ear cavities, and a Sevora sit.
Jel jerks back, hisses loud and long, stumbles for a moment, and then collapses to the floor, snapping off one of the fragments while the other sticks up in the air like a terrible grave marker.
26 The Choice
An instant of free-fall through a cloud of fire and rubble, a moment where Sax’s stomach tries to leap out of his body, where he’s thankful the mask keeps the shards of fracturing metal from stabbing into his vents and eyes, and then Sax hits the ground.
The mask can’t blunt all the discomfort of landing on rubble, and Sax turns himself mid fall so his right fore- and midclaws suffer the brunt of the impact, but the explosion gives Sax the adrenaline he needs to push past the pain and force himself up with a swish of his tail and a dig from his talons.
Sax’s first glance confirms Bas is alive and picking herself out of her own pile of cables and chromed floor tiles. His second looks for the source of the explosion and finds Plake and Agra-Red near a wide door leading out of the room. They’re staring, though Sax finds Agra-Red’s heavy miner aimed up towards the ceiling, suspicious.
The mirrored Oratus, though, didn’t fall. The hole in the floor collapsed the center of the battery ring above, but left the edges for their enemies to peer over.
“We going to run, or you want to wait for those things? I didn’t detonate those batteries for nothing.” Agra-Red says.
“They were going to lose.” Sax barely holds himself back, keeps his claws at his sides. “We had them.”
“Probably a trap,” Agra-Red shakes off Sax’s glare. “You don’t fight a mirrored Oratus. You run.”
“Next time, leave us.”
“This time, we’re going. Now.” Plake issues the order, and with the mirrored Oratus above apparently checking their wounds, Sax decides to follow it.
“Remember the mission,” Bas hisses as she comes up behind him.
Why does that phrase keep getting in the way of his fun?
Beyond the battery room, it’s clear they’ve entered a different part of Cavignum. No longer over the flowing energy source, the floors bear a design less suited for heat and more for pleasure; curling green and purple lines mimicking Aspicis’ landscapes cover the floor, and the walls, between doors, are broken up with pictographs that Sax recognizes as sights from around the galaxy; various planets, highlights from the realms the Chorus controls.
“I’d almost call it beautiful if I didn’t know what it represented,” Plake says as they move.
Theoretically, they’ll find some indication of the control room, but Sax isn’t seeing anything other than locked doors with blaring red lights. A low-tone alarm starts up too, declaring Cavignum under lockdown. That it’s taken whomever runs this place this long to call their insertion an emergency tells Sax just how confident they are in their forces.
Not that Sax hasn’t proved a lot of people wrong on that bet.
“It’s still beautiful,” Bas replies. “We’re not trying to destroy this place - if we take down the Chorus, this planet, this galaxy is still going to need Aspicis.”
“They can have it,” Agra-Red, sliming its way along the ground, says. “This planet is garbage.”
As if hearing the Whelk’s insult, the lights in the corridor flicker and die, plunging them into an absolute darkness. Sax flicks the mask over to night vision and scans back and forth. Finds the reason why. The doors they’ve passed are opening, with Flauma and other species breaking into the corridor and running back the way they came.
Evacuating the hostages. The alarm blots out the sounds of footfalls, and there’s no talking.
“Stop for a second,” Sax says. He’s not interested in the fleeing workers, but rather in the rooms they left behind. “Form up.”
“You going to guide us?” Plake asks. “Because Vyphen can’t see in the dark.”
“Hold on to Bas’ tail,” Sax says.
He’ll die before he lets the Vyphen hold onto his body. Bas gets it, releases a quick laugh, but doesn’t argue. She knows Sax too well.
It’s a quick sprint down the hallway and into the first open room on the right. The lights are still out, but the doors opening means Cavignum’s not entirely without power. Terminals in the room still glow, and they’re showing the kinds of graphs that make Sax think this is one of the places that controls the flow from beneath the surface.
Not what he cares about, but terminals are flexible.
Plake catches the idea too - which is good, as Sax has about as much trust in his own ability to use a foreign terminal as he does in Plake’s chances one-on-one with a mirrored Oratus. While the Vyphen sets to work, Sax sets up watch at the door, taking the occasional chance to spook passing species with a low hiss.
Other doors along the hallway are open now too, with more and more staff streaming away. Sax could reach out and tear them apart. They shrink away from him as they pass by, running quick. A calculated gamble - Sax and the others haven’t made a point of attacking random civilians, but they’ve caused plenty of destruction. Get out, save some lives.
Sax almost respects the Amigga running this place - he’s sure there’s one of the orb-like monsters here somewhere: saving lives always seems to be their last concern.
“Found it!” Plake announces with a thrilled bubble. “Close to here actually. Just down the hall, on the left.” There’s a pause, long enough for Sax to turn his head, about to ask why they aren’t moving. “And Bas was right. It’s in the center - only the center’s not where the hole comes up.”
“Great,” Bas says. “Can we go?”
Plake gives the affirmative and they’re back in the hallway. The remaining staffers turn and run back the other way at the sounds of Sax loping towards them, vanishing into side rooms where nobody cares to follow them. Eventually they make it to the door, the only one still locked shut.
“You have another battery bomb?” Sax asks the Whelk, knowing full well the creature has nothing.
“If any of you’d thought to grab another miner, I could make one,” Agra-Red shoots back. “This thing packs a punch, but there’s no way it’s getting through a thick, heat-shielded door like this.”
Sax places a claw against the door. It’s hard, well-forged and constructed to stand against even normal Oratus claws. Then again, he doesn’t have normal Oratus claws, not anymore.
“Cover me,” Sax says, and gets to work.
The first scratches don’t seem to make a dent - it’s hard to tell in the dark if he’s making any progress. One swipe, two, three and all Sax is wondering is whether his claws are going to break off, when there’s a sudden change in tenor, a strike knocks off a long strip of the door’s protective shell.
And his next swing bites. Tears off a good chunk of the metal.
“Finally found something you’re good at,” Plake says.
Sax doesn’t get to reply. The hallway’s lights come on bright and blinding, causing Sax to stumble back from the door, which works out well as the space he’s been standing suddenly fills with red laser.
Apparently breaching the control room is a step too far for Cavignum’s security, as they’ve sent a squad of Flaum - and Sax catches the telltale shimmer of the mirrored Oratus behind them - to the hallway, which they’re now filling with deadly laser.
Agra-Red takes a couple of return shots as Bas hammers her weight and claws at a less-protected door on the opposite side of the hallway. A few swipes at the thin barrier and it breaks in, allowing the four of them to tumble inside the side room. Sax earns himself some burns, largely deflected by his increasingly-damaged mask, as the prize for last one inside.
“Nice choice,” Plake says as they get a better look inside.
“We’re famous,” Agra-Red gives a hopeless, warbling laugh. “Never thought I’d die with a billion eyes watching.”
“Not dead yet,” Sax hisses, looking back out the door, across the hallway towards where they need to be. “If I can get another two or three swings in, I can open that door.”
“You’ll be charred slag before you get one.” Plake doesn’t offer a better solution, instead staring at the broadcast. “Are you all seeing this? They’re saying repair crews are waiting outside as soon as this place is secured.”
“Isn’t that normal?” Sax offers.
“It’s the solution for the Teven,” Plake says. “We just need to make sure they’re in that crew, then get out of here.”
Before the glimmer-worm prison, they’d had communicators. They could’ve called Nobaa and Engee and told them the plan. Now, though, all Sax has is the mask, and its narrow-band wave isn’t going to carry his words more than a few dozen meters.
The break room doesn’t have any of those devices around either, but it does have a single terminal connected to Aspicis’ global network and, beyond that, the galaxy at large. It’s a small screen, and Bas looms large over it, her claws tapping away at the icons as they appear.
“I can reach them through this,” Bas says. “Buy me a minute.”
Sax knows how he can buy her several. He heads back to the doorway, peeks his head out of the hallway to see the security squad advancing towards them. A quick burst of miner fire has Sax ducking himself back inside as bolts strike the frame and ceiling around his head.
“Trying to get yourself killed?” Agra-Red, set up with its miner behind Sax. “How’s that going to help?”
“Shut up.” Sax hisses, then sticks a single foreclaw out, waves it up and down. “I have an offer!” Sax roars this loud enough to carry into the hallway.
When nothing tries to incinerate his waving hand, Sax tries sticking his head out again - at a different height than before, just in case - and he sees that the two mirrored Oratus have taken spots at the head of the Flaum column, with the furry creatures holding their miners ready behind them.
“What is your offer?” Kah asks. “Know that you have no other escape, and we could easily kill you should we choose.”
“That didn’t go so well for you last time.” Sax steps into the middle of the hallway.
He’s an easy target here, but he’s hoping giving himself up is going to buy Bas the time she needs to send the message to the Teven. It also gets him closer to the control room door; even if this tactic fails, Sax figures he can get in one or two good swats before the mirrored Oratus or the Flaum burn him down.
That’ll have to be good enough.
“Regardless,” Kah says, and Sax likes the annoyance in its hissing tone. “Give yourselves up. Aspicis and its energy shouldn’t suffer for your cause.”
“I want the lives of my friends guaranteed,” Sax says. “They should be allowed to leave Cavignum. This was my idea, and I made them do it.”
Kah laughs and it echoes up and down the hallway. “Your idea? Sax, we have your records. You’re not a mission planner, a commander. You’re a set leader, a weapon made to carry out the tasks of those above you. Don’t act like we’re stupid.”
Sax stiffens his spine. They’re right, of course. Sax is a weapon. He’s never been much of a bluffer anyway.
“Sent it,” Bas hisses softly from the room to his left.
“So is that a no?” Sax asks Kah.
“We’d much rather have you dead,” Kah says, stepping to the side of the hallway.
As the words come out of the Oratus’ mouth, Sax lunges towards the control room door. Gets a strong swipe in that tears the uncoated metal to shreds. Flashes fill the hallway, and Sax expects, even as he continues flinging his claws, to get torched, but the fire doesn’t come. There’s plenty of flashes in his peripheral, and a couple glancing hits send burning pain up his side, but Sax lives.
“Keep cutting you big lizard,” Agra-Red cackles from behind him. “I’ve got them ducking for now, but they’ll find their spines someday!”
Sax gets in another slash, then another, until the door is a series of metal ribbons. He raises his claws again when something very heavy crashes into him from behind, breaking Sax through the remaining strips of metal and rolling them both into the control room.
“Couldn’t stay away from you any longer,” Bas hisses as she scrambles off of him, towards the big bank of terminals.
There are dozens of the screens in the big, empty space, along with chairs and netting to keep various species assigned to monitor them comfortable. Even the ceiling sports a projected, swirling display showing the current core temp of Cavignum. It is, as expected, very, very hot.
“Don’t touch anything!” It’s the monotoned voice of an Amigga, translated through its intercoms.
This one, an amber color and looking like a dried out piece of old fruit, sits in a chair at the room’s far end. It’s not so much a suit as a cradle, and Sax can’t see a single weapon on it.
“If you destroy the wrong thing, then this whole plant could explode,” the Amigga pleads. “Not only would you kill yourselves, but many, many more on Aspicis could die.”
“Maybe that’s what we want?” Bas says, her claws hovering over the screens.
“If so, then there’s nothing I can do to stop you,” the Amigga says. “But I refuse to believe Oratus would commit themselves to a mission of pure destruction with no other end. We did not fail so badly with your species.”
Sax wants to strike the creature down for those words, but a yelp of Whelk-pain from the hallway reminds him they don’t have much time here. Agra-Red’s miner will run out of power eventually, and then they’ll be swarmed.
Yet, they need to damage this place somehow, if Nobaa and Engee are going to have an excuse to come here as part of the repair crew. So Sax turns and slashes at the screens of the terminals. Cuts the glass, shreds the housing, but leaves the inside alone. Bas gets it, does the same to the screens next to hers.
“What are you doing?” the Amigga asks. “Please, if you cut too deep!”
“Find us a way out of here,” Sax says. “Or we will destroy everything.”
The Amigga has no eyes. No visible senses whatsoever, but Sax gets the sense that the creature is staring at him, trying to decide if the Oratus is serious.
“We’ve made our message,” Bas adds. “Shown that we can strike anywhere, if the Chorus doesn’t give in to our demands. Let us leave, and you’ll keep your station.”
Lying. Bas is so much better at it than Sax is, and her reasoning shoves the Amigga towards action. The creature’s suit buzzes, and suddenly its voice blares out of speakers from everywhere.
“Hold your fire!” the Amigga shouts. “Allow the intruders to leave, or they’ll obliterate Cavignum entirely.”
The command does its job, and Agra-Red’s shooting halts a second later.
“They’ll escort you to an exit,” the Amigga says. “Please, don’t damage anything else. You’ve made our lives difficult enough.”
“We don’t care,” Sax replies, though he doesn’t move. “Bas, go with them.”
His pair hesitates, looks at Sax. “What?”
“The only reason we’re getting out of here at all is because these threaten the entire station,” Sax says. “I stay, they won’t hurt you. If we all leave, they’ll take us the moment they’ve secured this room.”
Her look only lasts a moment but it’s a moment Sax holds constant in his mind as Bas sweeps out of the room, as she takes Agra-Red and Plake with her through some combination of passageways and out into the jungles of Aspicis.
Those pink-gold scales around her golden eyes. Sax saw in them the acceptance, the understandin
g of the mission. That it comes first.
Except, here, it didn’t. Sax made the offer, Sax gave himself up not for the mission, but for her, because nothing else matters.
27 The Last Sevora
I wait, at first. Simply lie there with my head propped up and watch the body. Jel must be getting back up. It can’t be dead. I’ve never seen an Oratus fall, aside from Sax’s surprise blasting on Cobalt courtesy of Coorvin, the station’s captive Flaum. Mostly, I can’t believe I’m the cause.
Around me, the section buzzes. The ship hums. These throngs, the vibrations, are new. As if the Sevora ship is coming to life around me. Ignos said it would take time to get the seed ship up and running again. That it would happen gradually as the chosen one, the Sevora elected to helm the ship, began to merge with the craft itself.
The noises, though, remind me that we’re not done yet. So I pick myself up, slow and gradual, first to my knees, and then to my hands - palms flat against the tile - before with a last push I get to a sturdy stand. Gar is still down. No motion. I look back towards Lan, and she’s twitching. Her claws beginning to flex, her tail swishing ever so slightly.
Gar is her pair. What happens when an Oratus’ pair dies?
I can’t answer that question so I move past Gar’s body and beyond. Past the racks of vests and clothes, past the weapons all neat and glistening. Ready for a war that I hope is over. Along the way I see the bodies of Viera’s earlier victims. I would want anything than to be on the other end of her rage.
They’re all down, all of them. Smoking, motionless.
But then, so is she. Viera lies flat on the ground, sprawled out, but breathing. There’s a gash on the side of her head, turning some of her white hair pink, matting it. Her left arm hangs at an odd angle away from her body. And her eyes are shut as I get close and kneel down over.
“Can you hear me?” I said to her. “Viera?”
I get nothing from her, so I set about tearing strips from her the robes she’s wearing beneath the armor and making bandages. I don’t want to move her arm, because I don’t know what’s wrong with it, so I do the best I can get her turned over. Staunch the bleeding, and lay her back down. I look back across the section, making sure nothing else is moving, and see I’m still the only one up.
