by Sean Robins
“Hey, guys. Aren’t you supposed to be aboard Serenity?”
“Very crowded there, with two thousand marines and seven thousand POWs,” answered Li. “We decided we’d earned some peace and quiet and asked permission to remain here for a few days.”
Juan offered his hand. “We were planning to come and thank you for saving us. Might as well do it now.”
I shook his hand. “The fleet is happy to have the Marines’ back.”
Juan chuckled. “Now I feel guilty about putting those three pilots in the hospital back in the day.”
I narrowed my eyes. During a brief period of tension between the Commandos and the pilots in Winterfell (which started when Keiko decided to attack a dozen pilots because they called her names), some of Kurt’s soldiers had beaten up some of my people, and Tarq had stopped me from doing something about it.
Well, Tarq wasn’t here now, and I was the freaking Kingslayer.
“Cordelia?”
“Yes, Jim?” I could swear she purred.
“Go Zeus on his ass.”
A lightning bolt hit the floor two inches away from Juan’s right foot. The big man yelped, jumped to his left, and ran into Li. They barely managed to keep their balance and not fall onto the floor.
“If you ever lay a finger on anyone under my command again, the next lightning will fry your brain,” I said pleasantly.
Juan raised his palms up. “Hey, Colonel, we’re on the same team here.”
“We aren’t when you beat up my people!”
“They jumped me. What was I supposed to do?” Juan was getting angry. Li put a hand on his arm and shook his head.
“You’re a big man, and I’m sure you can take a few punches. A lightning bolt in the head, I’m not so sure.”
“When this pissing contest is over, can someone please get me a drink?” said Ella, who had just entered the mess, from behind the two Marines. “Alternatively, I could kick you all off my ship, you included, Colonel.”
“Doesn’t anyone sleep on this ship?” I complained.
“After what we did today? Do you really have to ask?” she said.
“In that case, pull up a chair and join me, all three of you,” I said. “It’s time for me to make some new friends anyway. Ella, tell them what you did during Operation Royalty.”
A few minutes into the conversation, however, I realized friendship with these three wasn’t possible.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me all of you have good relationships with your parents? That’s statistically impossible.”
Ella shook her head. “The Kingslayer has daddy issues. Now I’ve seen everything.”
All superheroes have daddy issues.
I was delighted to find out Ella played squash even though she said, “These days I have no time for sports.”
“I order you to play with me twice a week,” I said, not misusing my authority as the commander of the fleet at all. She rolled her eyes in response.
“Is this how you get chicks?” asked Juan, who’d already had a few drinks. “By ordering them to do stuff with you?”
“Call me a ‘chick’ one more time.” Ella glared at him. “And you’ll have a date with an airlock.”
“Apologies, Captain,” said Li. “He’s a tad tipsy.”
“Never an excuse for not being a gentleman,” I pointed out, showing off my Southern roots.
Xornaa hesitated when she reached Tarq’s ready room. She figured there was at least a fifty percent chance she wasn’t going to walk out of that room alive. Adrenaline flooded her veins, and she wanted to run for the safety of her quarters. She didn’t want to die here, but there was something she really needed to do.
She entered Tarq’s ready room before she could change her mind. “Next time you want to commit mass genocide, leave me out of it.”
Tarq looked up from something he was reading. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me. I knew I’d have to kill people from time to time when I came to work for you, but I won’t be doing any more mass murders.”
Tarq laughed in her face. “Define mass. Where do you draw the line? Fifty? A hundred? A thousand? Come on, Xornaa. You know I have read your file.”
Xornaa felt her face burn and wondered if she should get angry or even more scared. Probably the latter. “You don’t need to remind me I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life, which is why I thought I could get through this one too. I was wrong. I just can’t.”
“Do I have to remind you there is a bomb under your skull, and my fingers are on the figurative red button?”
The Xortaag woman bent forward and stared him in the eye. “Let me put it this way. The next time you order me to get involved in something like this, I’ll try to kill you. I do have a few tricks up my sleeves that you might not be able to anticipate, so I may succeed. Or you might kill me. Either way, you’ll lose me, and I’d like to think I still have value to you.”
Tarq chuckled. “So, you have grown a conscience? I never thought I see this day.” Then he looked closely at the woman. “But it is not a conscience, is it? I tell you what. You tell me what is bothering you, and I might let you off the hook.”
Xornaa hesitated, but she didn’t have a choice. “You just said you’ve read my file, so you know I can’t have children.”
Tarq nodded.
“There were probably hundreds of pregnant Xortaag women on Talmak, and maybe even some kids.”
Tarq leaned back in his chair. “Oh, that is it then. I thought only humans were obsessed with children.”
Xornaa didn’t know what to say.
“I share a secret with you: contrary to what you might have heard, I am not a monster. I take no pleasure in killing the Xortaags, children or adults, and I am not indifferent to other people’s suffering. Back on Earth, when all those humans died as the result of my actions, I seriously considered killing myself. But I am fighting for the survival of my species in here, and sometimes that means making tough choices. I will take your request under consideration.”
Xornaa turned to leave.
“And Xornaa?”
She looked over her shoulder.
Several hidden panels behind Tarq’s desk opened, and Xornaa found herself staring down the barrels of a dozen huge laser weapons.
“Do not ever threaten me again,” said Tarq, his face hard and emotionless.
“So, are we going to do this or what?” said Oksana.
Xornaa smiled and bowed her head.
They were standing on the training mat in Serenity’s gym. It was 5 a.m. ship time and the gym was empty. They’d chosen this early hour on purpose. The last thing they needed was a bunch of testosterone-controlled Marines to cheer them on while they engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
Oksana didn’t hesitate. Full of confidence, she took three quick steps forward and attacked the Xortaag woman. Oksana was excellent at martial arts and she knew it, and she was certain she could take on Xornaa—genetic enhancements or not. So it was really surprising when she found herself on her butt less than ten seconds later. Oksana stood up and charged again. Xornaa blocked Oksana’s strikes one after another with ease, and the next thing the Ukrainian girl knew, she got a right hook in her kidney. She fell onto her knee, coughing.
“I think this is quite enough,” said Xornaa.
Oksana raised her right index finger to stop her. She brushed aside strands of blonde hair from her eyes and rose to her feet, panting.
They continued for another fifteen minutes, in which Oksana used every technique she’d learned using MICI and practiced during months of rigorous training. At some point during the fight, she even bit into Xornaa’s forearm. The alien woman’s calm expression didn’t change. Finally, after Oksana’s head hit the mat for the tenth time, she lay there and made no attempt to get up.
“Now, that’s enough,” murmured Oksana.
Xornaa offered her gloved hand and helped Oksana get up. “Let me say you’re really, really good
. I know few people who last so long against me.”
“Because you break their necks in the first thirty seconds?” Oksana asked wryly.
“Our body’s touched a few times during the fight.” Xornaa looked rather sheepish. “I wasn’t trying to read you—I can’t anyway, even if I wanted to. All I get is some general feelings, but right now, it’s enough for me to know you are a rape victim. You and I have a lot in common.”
Oksana’s anger rose like superheated steam, burning her on the way out. Xornaa’s words brought back memories—nightmares—she’d tried her hardest to forget. Flashbacks of her time in The Harem rushed to her, reminding her of all the suffering, the humiliation, the hopelessness, the shame… and the fact that she wasn’t able to help her baby sister. Xornaa’s claim—while standing there cool, calm, and collected, with not a strand of hair out of place—that she understood Oksana’s pain, the pain she shared with Anastasya, was an insult both to her and to her sister’s memory.
Fuming, she pushed Xornaa back forcefully. “I’m nothing like you, alien.”
Oksana turned and left the gym without saying another word, leaving Xornaa behind.
5
Voltex
Standard Galactic Year: 5263
(Earth Year: 3185)
“Hello, brother,” said Fartaz.
Shartan looked up from his desk. “Hi, little one. I have not seen you in ages.” He looked more closely at Fartaz. “Time has not been kind to you, my brother.”
“Nor you, Supreme Leader.” Fartaz did not sit. He hovered in front of his brother’s desk.
“You try running a starving planet,” said the older Volt. “What brings you out of your lab and into the palace?”
“Let me ask you a question: why did we lose the war with the carbon-based aliens all those years ago?”
Shartan leaned back. “You know the answer to this question.”
“Humor me.”
“We had no answer for their weapons, especially those devilish nuclear bombs, even though we now know how to stop them.”
“So let me ask you another question,” continued Fartaz. “If we had met them in battle a few centuries ago, but we had our current fleet, do you think we would have won?”
The Supreme Leader smiled. “Do not tell me you have invented a time machine.”
“No. Time travel is not possible. But I have invented the next best thing.”
Shartan sat up straight. “You are being serious?”
“As death.”
“Tell me.”
Fartaz moved his upper body, and an image appeared between them. It looked like a funnel. “You know how the Space-Folding Device works because the name is self-explanatory. I have found a way to apply the same principle to bend the time-space continuum, which results in something like this. One end is in the present, and the other end a few centuries in the past, at a location that we choose. We could send the Vox through, let us say to Earth or Tangaar’s orbit, kill off all the aliens and destroy their planet.”
“Will that change our current situation?” Shartan asked hopefully. “Will our dead come back to life, like the war never happened?”
“No, brother. The past cannot be changed. The results of whatever happens at the other side of the funnel will affect only the time on this side. So if we destroy Earth, for example, all the humans in our time will suddenly disappear, and we will have our revenge.”
Shartan looked doubtful. “If the carbon-based aliens start disappearing one by one, will they not realize we are doing it and retaliate? I do not think we have even seen the worst of their weapons. I have heard they have bombs that can obliterate a whole planet.”
“Time moves differently inside the funnel,” said Fartaz. “Tell me, how many Voxes do we have in the fleet now?”
“Two hundred thousand, not counting the reserves.”
“It is probably better if we do not count on the reserves because they are either too old or too young to fight. We will not need them anyway because two hundred thousand Vox warriors should be more than enough to destroy all the aliens. I do not think all of them combined have so many ships in their galaxy, and even if they did, they could not possibly stand a chance against us a few centuries ago. Here is what we will do: we will station our fleet inside the time funnel, and they will attack the aliens planet by planet, starting with the strongest ones, which I think are Tangaar, Kanoor, and Earth. By the time it is done, only a few minutes will have passed in the present time, but it will be a few years inside the funnel and on the other side of it.”
“What can I do?” asked Shartan.
“I need financial resources and a bigger team. The time funnel is still years away from sending a whole fleet back in time, and when it is ready, we will need to test it at least once.”
“On a planet where everyone is starving to death, you want to spend money on revenge.” The Supreme Leader leaned over. “You have everything you need. I only have one request: kill them all before I die of old age.”
“Consider it done.”
Shartan laughed. “All those years ago, when you said you would make the aliens pay, I said I felt bad for them already. I was right. I do not want to be in their place when they wake up and see two hundred thousand black Vox warriors on their orbit and know they have only a few minutes left to live.”
“At least they will have those few minutes to say goodbye to their loved ones,” answered Fartaz. “My family did not even have that, and neither did billions of others.”
6
Kanoor
Standard Galactic Date: 053.03.5073
(Earth Date: 23/04/2049)
Big day, thought Tarq.
Kanoor’s president had decided to hold a ceremony in order to honor Tarq and award him a few more medals. Tarq waited backstage while the president, standing on a golden podium set on a white stage, gave a long boring speech about honor, duty, and a better future. The ceremony was televised, and the whole planet was watching. And why not? This was the seventh or eighth time he had saved Kanoor, and out of all the enemies he had faced in the past, the galaxy-conquering Xortaags were the toughest.
He wished Varina were alive to see this. His daughter, who had given her life defending Alora against the Xortaags, would have been happy to see how her father had defeated them (with no Akakie casualties, to boot) and got their legendary general killed. When she was a child, she always enjoyed listening to Tarq’s stories about how he had saved Kanoor several times. She would have loved this one too.
Unlike most Akakies, Tarq had taken only one concubine all his life. Valorna was an alluring and passionate woman, and he loved her to death. Thinking about her, after all these years, still brought a smile to his face. But she had grown tired of waiting for him while he traveled around the galaxy running multiple operations. She left Tarq for a rich merchant, and all he had to remember those few happy years with her was Varina. Until General Maada took her away from him too.
Well, Maada paid the price for that, did he not? he thought bitterly.
The war was far from over. The Xortaags, having lost some sixty thousand space fighters and millions of soldiers in a few short months, were crippled but not defeated. Tarq was certain they were planning to come back right now. He had been trying to form an alliance with the other space-faring species in the galaxy against the Xortaags, but so far, except for the humans, no one had signed up. Everyone was still scared of the Xortaags, and Maada, even in death, cast a long shadow. Tarq’s efforts to spread Jim’s reputation in the galaxy as some sort of an anti-Maada was beginning to change that though.
Tarq remembered the first time he met Jim, when he had pranked the poor boy into thinking he was dead and in heaven, and chuckled. Who would have thought the young, naïve, wise-cracking ace fighter from a backward planet took General Maada’s place as the galaxy’s most feared badass? Let us hope he does not do something stupid and get himself killed, thought Tarq. Plus, I have grown really fond of him.
T
hat reminded him: the whole you-are-a-racist prank was getting old. He had to find a new way to mess with Jim.
The president said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Kanoor’s savior and your hero, Commander Tarq!”
“We are up. Are you ready?” Tarq whispered.
“Cocked and loaded,” Barook answered in English. Tarq thought about correcting him, but then he imagined how funny it would be if Barook said that in front of the humans and changed his mind.
He walked onto the stage and was welcomed by the president, who lowered his head so that his antennae would touch Tarq’s. “Thank you, Mr. President,” said Tarq. “By the way, I have some good news that I will share with you after the ceremony.”
Tarq stood behind the podium and looked around, even though the flashlights were bothering him. Hundreds of Akakies were seated in front of him, waiting to hear his historic speech about defeating the Xortaags, and Tarq knew millions were watching at home. Everyone who was anybody was here: members of the president’s cabinet, other politicians, celebrities, reporters, and even the human, Talgoinian, and Vanaari ambassadors.
And the fleet admirals.
There had always been a rivalry between the fleet and Tarq’s Special Operations Force, but after the fleet’s catastrophic defeat on Alora and Tarq’s decisive victory on Earth, the rivalry was replaced by open animosity. A lot of fleet admirals had called his black op—carried out without the Akakie government’s knowledge—treasonous. They had to eat their words when the president had decided to put the fleet under Tarq’s direct supervision. Now they were sitting together in the front row, fifteen of them, dressed in the fleet’s simple white uniform—in sharp contrast to Tarq’s fiery-red costume, complete with a cape—and giving him evil eyes. Tarq recognized admiral Juntoo, the fleet officer who had blamed him for the Alora defeat minutes after Varina had died, and smiled viciously.
