by C H Gideon
Ka’nak was thrilled by the progress the Telluride had made. He was also inspired to note that more Grindlovians had wheeled over to watch the combat training.
Of course, he couldn’t tell what they thought given their stoic expressions, but the fact that more had shown up, and he hadn’t seen any leave suggested they were enjoying themselves.
“As much as stick figures can, I guess,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What’s that?” Maddox asked.
Ka’nak shook his head. “Nothing. Just talking to myself,” he said, chuckling.
“You know you can do all that in your head, right?” Maddox joked. “It’s called thinking, and no one ends up wondering if you’re talking to them.”
The Melowi warrior shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Maddox grunted. “One male’s fun is another male’s torment.”
“See? You’re getting it,” Ka’nak told the general, dragging a half-smile out of him.
“You surprise me some days,” Maddox admitted. “I often only see you as a beast of a male, intent on breaking everything and everyone in your way. Then you say something like that, and it makes me think you might actually have a brain inside that thick skull of yours.”
“You’re not that far off.” Ka’nak laughed, smashing his fist into the palm of his hand. “You should probably take a step back,” he warned jokingly.
Maddox did, shaking his head.
Ka’nak turned back to the lines of warriors he’d been drilling for the last several hours. “Well, I guess our earlier experiment might have been a bit premature, but I think you are ready for basic combat simulations now.”
Maddox scoffed. “You hope.”
Ka’nak did. He had faith that the Telluride would impress him, especially after the repetition he’d drilled into their heads.
San Balu trotted over, excitement brightening his face. The others were slightly less motivated, but he could still see the interest in many of their eyes.
“Let’s try this again,” Ka’nak announced, waving the Telluride to battle. “Fight!”
The crowd advanced on one another, this time with confidence. Several females had joined the group along the way. They fearlessly moved forward.
The opponents faced off, taking each other’s measure as best they could. San Balu wouldn’t be restrained.
He leapt forward with a feral scream and his opponent, San Mata, stumbled to a halt, staring, dropping his guard in surprise.
“Always keep your hands—” Maddox shouted, but it was too late.
San Balu crashed into his opponent, fists wailing in a flurry.
Ka’nak was taken aback by San Balu’s aggressiveness, but he loved it. The fury of the attack was non-Telluride.
“There you go.” Ka’nak shouted encouragement, instinctively miming the shots San Balu was using against San Mata.
San Mata shrieked as several punches collided with his cheek and forehead. He fell back, waving his arms as San Balu pressed his attack.
There was a fury there that surprised Ka’nak, given what he’d seen of the Telluride people since their arrival, but the sight of it thrilled him.
He’d make these people warriors yet.
San Balu kicked San Mata’s legs out from under him and he fell to the ground, rolling onto his side. San Balu showed him no mercy.
He flung himself on top of San Mata as the rest of the Telluride stopped to watch. Fists flew, left, right, left, over and over, and San Mata crumpled under the vicious onslaught.
“STOP!” Ka’nak commanded, but he’d already changed the nature of the usually compliant Telluride.
San Balu raised his bloody fist as high as he could, bringing it down.
The smack of the impact was brutal…
Only it wasn’t San Balu striking San Mata that had caused the sound.
Maddox had leapt into the fray and caught the blow in his palm. He twisted San Balu’s wrist, eliciting a grunt from the Telluride, and threw him sideways off his opponent.
San Balu landed with a crash, eyes wide in confusion. Maddox loomed over him, ready to lash out if necessary, but San Balu simply sat there.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked, raising his hands in supplication to Maddox.
The general growled and restrained his anger, stepping away and raising his own hands to show he was done.
“Excellent work,” Ka’nak told San Balu, going over and helping the male to his feet and clapping him on the back with pride.
“What?” Maddox shouted. “Are you serious?”
Ka’nak stared at Maddox, wondering what had pissed him off so much. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “We’re here to teach them how to fight.” He gestured to the fallen Telluride, who’d yet to recover his senses. “That looks to me as though they’re grasping the concept quite nicely.”
Maddox snarled at Ka’nak, catching the warrior by surprise. He’d never seen such venom spew from the male before, although he knew his reputation from back on their home planet.
“It’s one thing to teach them to fight,” Maddox argued, a sharp edge in his voice, “but it’s another thing entirely to turn them into barbarians.”
Maddox motioned to the other Telluride. “Check your companion, please. Make sure he’s okay.”
They did, swarming the fallen alien and examining him. Maddox sighed when they hefted him to his feet, and he saw the glimmer of consciousness returning to San Mata’s glassy eyes.
Then he spun and poked Ka’nak in the chest.
“You’re right,” the Melowi warrior admitted, although the words were hard to utter.
Ka’nak had let himself get caught up in the bloodlust and the joy of watching two males battle for supremacy. Maddox was correct, though—that wasn’t what they’d intended.
He’d only wanted to make them better warriors, not killers, and he realized then that he might not be as well-suited to train them as he’d originally thought.
“Perhaps I should show them technique, and you should teach them the psychology of the fight,” Ka’nak suggested.
Maddox nodded, reaching out and patting Ka’nak on his muscled shoulder. “How about we sit down and teach them chess? Show them the tactical side of it without bruising them while we do it?” he suggested to the Melowi. “We don’t want to break our toys yet, do we?” he asked with a laugh.
“No more than I already have,” Ka’nak replied, going over to check on San Mata.
“Chess it is,” Ka’nak affirmed a moment later as he dusted off the victim of his unintended consequences, making sure he was okay. “I like chess.”
“You any good at it?” Maddox asked.
Ka’nak shook his head. “No, not very,” he lied, glancing at San Balu and winking. “Perhaps we should place bets on the game.”
As the basic science experiments continued, Geroux found herself enjoying the audience that had gathered.
There were more Grindlovians than Telluride. Although the colorful aliens dominated the applause, she noticed that the Grindlovians had crept closer to watch until the line of the crowd was now little more than a meter away when it had started at ten.
Geroux loved the fact that they could engage even the apathetic Grindlovians with parlor-trick science.
“This is amazing,” she told her uncle.
He agreed. “I believe they have become so jaded by the technological miracles around that they’ve forgotten how interesting it all is,” he explained, slipping into teacher mode. It was one of Geroux’s favorite things about her uncle. “All of this, no matter how basic it might seem to us, is new to them.”
She knew Takal was speaking the truth.
Despite all the devices that operated around them, the Grindlovians were disconnected from their science and the internal aspect of how it all worked. They simply relied on Gorad for everything, and let him do as he wished as long as it benefited them in the end.
They clearly no longer cared how it all happened, only that it di
d. As long as things made their lives easier, they were content with the status quo.
But the science exhibition had sparked something deep inside them.
While the Grindlovians weren’t standing and cheering or even waving mechanical arms in the air, Geroux could see the shimmer in their eyes, a curiosity that had risen to the surface and gleamed with renewed interest.
It was the closest to excitement she’d seen from the people, but she knew it for what it was. They were pleased and happy, and for the first time since they’d come to Grindlevik 3, Geroux saw a flicker of the people who resided inside the lumps of flesh.
“They’re hooked, Uncle,” Geroux whispered to Takal, unable to contain the grin that dimpled her cheeks. “What do we do now?”
“I know!” Takal shouted, his excitement getting the better of him. “Let’s make a bomb!”
Geroux started. “What? A bomb? No way!” she argued, shaking her head.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Takal complained, his shoulders slumping.
Geroux stared at her uncle a moment, then sighed.
“Okay, but just a tiny one.”
Chapter Nine
“That mystery ship getting any closer or pointing its scanners our way?” Captain Asya asked.
“Negatory,” Tactical replied, annoyance in his voice. “It’s been hovering out there doing jack shit this whole time, and it’s starting to piss me off.”
“Better than it pissing on you,” XO argued.
Comm chuckled, and Captain Asya met Ensign Ria’s amused gaze.
“Just ignore them, if you haven’t already figured that out,” Asya told the ensign. “This is par for the course up here on the bridge.”
“Perhaps we should have Takal create a shit-talk filter for our comm,” Ria suggested.
“The probie has jokes,” Tactical growled. “How cute.”
Asya grinned. “You’re just mad because her idea would make it so that no one heard a word you said, Tactical,” she told the splintered AI personality.
“Then let me be the first to volunteer for that,” XO called, chuckling.
“I’ve got something you can try out,” Tactical fired back.
“All right, guys.” Asya jumped in, hoping to head off any escalation of the tension. When the AIs got into a pissing contest on the bridge, everyone needed a raincoat. “Let’s just keep our head in the game and—”
Something thudded into the ship’s hull, throwing Asya to the floor. Her arm smacked the console, and she gritted her teeth as she hit with a thud.
Captain Asya howled as she leapt to her feet. “What the fuck was that?” she screamed, the words flying from her mouth like thrown daggers. “Was that our mystery ship?”
“Negative,” Tactical called, bringing the unknown ship up on the screens. “They’re nowhere near close enough to… Oh, fuck. Incoming!” he shouted just before another explosion rattled the ship.
This time Asya stayed on her feet by clutching her console. As the tremors subsided, she jumped into the captain’s seat and buckled in. She glanced at the ensign, whose face was even paler than it had been earlier.
“That was one of Gorad’s ships firing on us,” Ria announced.
“What the mooseknuckle fuck is going on?” Tactical complained. “Why are these assholes firing at us all of a sudden?”
“Reynolds probably pissed them off,” XO growled. “That prick sure knows how to push a person’s buttons.”
“Ensign!” Asya shouted. “Back us off this damned docking rig so we can trigger our shields and fight back.”
“Yes, sir!” Ria shouted, fingers flying across the console to do as she was ordered.
The Superdreadnought Reynolds immediately began to back away from the docking berth, but another blast hit the hull and rattled the floor beneath Asya’s feet. She knew immediately that real damage had been done to the ship when it bounced.
“Status report!” she snarled, furious at having been so focused on the mystery ship that she’d lost sight of Gorad’s fleet surrounding them.
“Aft decks are leaking atmosphere,” Ria announced. “We’ve got causalities, it looks like.”
“Goddamn it,” Asya growled as the Reynolds was struck again and again, compounding the damage.
“This bastard is fucking shanking us like we’re in prison,” Tactical complained. “Hitting us before we can turn around or activate our shields without damaging everything around us.”
“Fuck Gorad and everything else out here,” Asya shouted. “Activate gravitic shields,” she ordered, and Ensign Alcott did just that. “This fucker’s putting a hurt on us, and I want to give some back.”
The shield flared around the superdreadnought, its forward edge rippling into the berth and beyond. Sparks jumped, then died out as the energy of the shield forced itself against the metal of the ring.
The defensive ring gave way first.
A section of the ring and the berth the Reynolds had been attached to crumpled under the pressure. Air vented through cracks in the ring, pieces broke off and drifted away as they were repulsed by the shield’s energy.
Yet another shot struck the Reynolds, but its gravitic shields repelled the blast. The superdreadnought spun and moved away from the defensive ring slowly, bogged down as it was by the station.
“Get us out there where we can maneuver,” Asya ordered, fighting back her inherent nature to not damage the docking mechanism.
It had been hammered into her to cherish and protect the fleet and its assets, but this wasn’t hers to worry about. It was Gorad’s, so fuck him and the consequences, she thought.
“Angle away and give us room to maneuver, Ensign! Full ahead.”
The Reynolds shot forward, and though the screen was focused on the destroyer pummeling them, Asya smiled, knowing the destruction she was leaving in their wake, even though it would never make up for the injuries caused by Gorad’s sneak attack on the Reynolds.
“Put some fire on this prick and teach him a lesson,” Asya commanded.
Tactical got to work.
Reynolds’ guns blasted, and Asya punched a fist into the arm of her seat when she spied the flicker of shields repelling the shots.
“We get anything?” she asked.
“Nope,” Tactical came back. “Her front shields are up full. We’re going to need to hit it a little harder.”
“What are you waiting for?” Captain Asya asked.
“Railguns charging,” Tactical called in response. “Hitting back like a motherfucker in three…two…now,” he said as he fired. “Hi, asshole.”
The railguns let loose a brutal burst of energy, sending projectiles at nearly the speed of light ripping straight through the destroyer’s shield and tearing scorching holes in the side of the ship. Lights flared and died on the ship, and it began to list.
“Hit it again!” Asya ordered.
“I’m so tempted to break out the ESD,” Tactical threatened, but he held back and only used the railguns again.
Which, in reality, was way more than sufficient firepower to do what Captain Asya had asked for.
The blasts ripped craters in Gorad’s destroyer, then tore the ship in half. Metal buckled and gave way and the engines separated from the rest of the rest of the ship, tumbling off into space.
Then the destroyer exploded; one quick, brilliant flash and it was gone. Debris rained against the gravitic shields.
Then there was another explosion at their backs, and Asya shifted views to see what had happened since she hadn’t felt anything impact the ship.
On the screen, another of Gorad’s destroyers, this one having not left the dock or even cycled up its guns or shields, spun in the blackness of space. The vast majority of its forward hull was a smoking wreck.
The berth it had been docked at was worse. There was nothing left of it.
The ship tumbled, smacked its engines against the defensive ring and knocked them loose of the craft, and both pieces fell away.
“Wh
at was that for?” Asya asked.
“It felt good after all that bullshit,” Tactical told her.
Asya had to agree, and although she was tempted to inflict more damage on Gorad’s ships and armored ring, she knew it would be better to hold back and see what was going on. She had wounded to attend to.
“Status!”
“Three unaccounted for, and over a dozen seriously wounded,” Ria reported. “Automated repair systems are online, and the bots are patching holes, but it looks like this is more than they can handle. I’m mobilizing repair crews as soon as the area is secure.”
Asya sank into her seat. Reynolds had handed her the ship, and she’d gotten it blasted all to hell because she’d let her guard down, thinking that Reynolds and the crew being on planet meant that things were okay.
She’d been too trusting this time, and she wouldn’t let that happen again.
“Comm, connect me to Gorad. I want to ask him what the fuck that was about,” the captain said. “Then reach out to the crew and tell them to watch their backs. This shit might blow back on them, whatever this shit is.”
“Gorad is ignoring all hails,” Comm replied.
Asya figured that was a good thing, given what she wanted to say to the AI bastard. She’d likely start a war if they weren’t already in one.
“Get Reynolds on the horn so I can let him know what’s going on,” Asya told Comm, “and don’t let that mystery cruiser out of your sight, or any of the rest of these destroyer fucks, for that matter. We’ve got enough shit to deal with without getting shot in the back again.”
Asya snarled as the call to Reynolds was put through. She wasn’t sure what the hell she was going to tell him, but she figured, “I told you so” wouldn’t be appropriate.
Even if she had.
“You attacked my ship!” Reynolds shouted at the android body of Gorad.
“I did absolutely nothing of the sort, Reynolds,” the alien AI told him. “I have no clue what happened, but I assure you that—”
“You’ve hurt my people.” Reynolds cursed and leapt to his feet and knocked the table aside, sending it crashing into the wall. Food, drinks, and utensils scattered, clattering to the floor. “How the hell can you control everything around here and claim this was not your doing? I have three people unaccounted for up there; likely dead, thanks to you.”
