Dragon Fire (Galaxy On Fire Book 5)

by Craig Robertson

  “Yes, Form One.”

  “Captain, I feel responsible. I should have realized the change and alerted you. Please blame me,” said Al. I heard the pride in his voice.

  “No blame here, just a learning opportunity. Let me posit a question to you. What are the possible explanations for the massive column of troops to stop moving as they are being systematically eradicated?”

  “One, they are already dead, suicide for example.”

  “Good. And if that was the case, would that change my battle plan, Stingray?”

  “Highly likely, Form One.”

  “So, keeping me informed on matters you might not feel are mission critical is mission critical.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Another possibility, Al.”

  “They feel hopeless and figure why bother moving if they’re dead either way. Open a beer and call your loved ones.”

  “Another possibility. Any others?”

  “They burrowed underground, and the vehicles are not moving because no one is in them.”

  “Excellent. And Stingray, that would be a critical fact to know, right?”

  “Yes, Form One.”

  “Als, is there any evidence based on seismic activity that underground tunneling is taking place? Also, have the masses of any vehicle changed significantly in a manner suggesting they were abandoned?”

  “Negative on both counts.”

  “Any other ideas as to why a powerful army we are told is vicious and ruthless would lie down and die so passively?”

  “From your choice of intonation, I suppose we could be wrong with our assumptions. Perhaps the individuals traveling across what is to them a desert are neither powerful, vicious, nor ruthless,” replied Al.

  “An intriguing possibility,” I responded.

  “But, Form One, they bombed the colony. They are, therefore, vicious and ruthless,” said Stingray.

  “Al, opinion?”

  “Someone bombed the colony. We presumed it was the same force that was advancing on it by ground.”

  “But that does not need to be the case.”

  “Why would a group assail the colony on the ground while a third party bombs the colony?”

  “The ground force hasn’t assailed anything. It’s marching, yes, but it’s not done anything else so far,” I replied.

  “They could have been forced to march out of the sea,” responded Al.

  “And the party doing the forcing could also have done the shelling.”

  “To make us think the shooting and the walking were related to a single war effort,” said Al.

  “If that is the case, that still does not explain why the individuals on the ground stopped,” said Stingray.

  “Well, maybe they are so scared, so out of their minds frightened that they are panicking. Maybe stopping is their version of abandoning all hope.”

  “Do you suspect the Epsallors, Captain?” asked Al.

  “Yes. Of course. There can be many rival groups down there. But the Epsallors were the ones who happened to slip in that the Dodrue were a brutal race.”

  “Form One, is it possible we’ve spent the morning slaughtering innocent souls who are frightened beyond all reason?” asked a clearly shaken Stingray.

  “Yes, my dear. It is entirely possible we had just inflicted the greatest genocide against an innocent species that has ever been recorded.”

  “Captain, if that’s true, what can we do?” Al, too, was shaken.

  “We’ll investigate, decide, and then, since we cannot seek justice, we will seek retribution.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “No, that’s freaking insane, and I won’t allow it. I’ve heard you come up with some dumb ideas in the past few billion years, but that is the stupidest, most ridiculous, nonsensical one yet.” Sapale seemed upset.

  “But how do you really feel? We’re at war. I need clarity.” I then gave her a winning Jon smile.

  She waved a finger at me. “No way, no how that’s going to work, pal. I’m serious. We have options, but that’s not one of them.”

  “This is a situation I’ve never run into. I have to know the facts as they are in order to proceed in the best manner possible.” I was very serious this time, reinforcing how strongly I felt.

  “Jon,” she said with exasperation, “this can’t end well. Tell me how it can? You just slaughtered maybe a million of them, and you’re going to march up to the head of the column and ask if they like you?” She slapped the side of her head. “Nuts is way too generous a way to describe it.”

  “I didn’t say that. I need to find out why they stopped. There’s no logical explanation.”

  “Yes, there is. They’re sea-going aliens. You and I have nothing in common with their mental processes. They do things differently because they’re just that different.”

  I shook my head. “Possibly, but I have a funny feeling we’re being played. You know how much I hate being played.”

  “Your line of reasoning zigzags all over reality to come to that conclusion. Jon, if we allow them to live, they have three options. One of the three is to march straight into the last handful of my race that is still alive. If they are hostile, my species becomes extinct. That is too great a risk. End of story.”

  “No, it is not. Hon, this is critically important. We don’t know they’re hostile. Not a single shot has been fired from their entire force.”

  “Which is driving vehicles that look a hell of a lot like tanks.”

  “But they didn’t even try to fire on us.”

  “They shot down one of Daldedaw’s three ships.”

  “No. One of Daldedaw’s three ships was shot down. Big difference.”

  “By the invisible antiaircraft boogeyman?”

  “Clearly by someone. But, and this is important, there is no record of where the blast came from.”

  “Jon, it swooped down over an advancing enemy it was firing on, and it was shot down. The most logical shooters are the ones being shot at.”

  “Yes, but that may be what someone wants us to believe. The only way to know is to find out. The only way to find out is to ask the remaining Dodrue.”

  “Hi,” Sapale acted out a sarcastic skit. “My names Dumb Jon. I’m the guy who just killed most of your population. Do you want to be my friend, because there’s a one-in-a-gazillion chance you’re as nice as I am?”

  “That’s enough,” I said firmly. “That’s why I’m going alone. If they do anything but make an instant believer out of me, you’ll finish them off.”

  “You’re not going alone.”

  “Of course, I am. If we’re both killed, there’s no one left to save your people.”

  She kept a mean look on her face a few seconds, then relaxed. She knew I was right. Her tone softened. “Jon, please don’t. Send a remote.”

  “No. Look, I have a moral obligation here. If I’ve screwed up big time, I need to make it right big time.”

  “Don’t you mean to say if we’ve screwed up?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m Form One.”

  “Do you think that actually counts with me?”

  “Yes. You might have done the same thing if you were in command, but I am in command.”

  She turned her back on me. That was a good sign that it meant I could attempt my fool’s errand. It was a bad sign in that, duh, she turned her back on me.

  I walked over and started rubbing her neck. “It’ll be okay. I promise I won’t take any chances. First sign of trouble, and I’m outta there.”

  Still looking away, she spoke. “If you still have legs to run with.”

  “I can always fart myself into orbit. I’m good at farting.”

  “Nice visual there, Ryan.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ryan.” She turned. “When do we do this?”

  “Right after I kiss the hell out of you.”

  “Another rim-shot visual there, beefcakes.”

  “I’m blessed with an active imagination.”

  “B
lessed?” she remarked as our lips met.

  “Stingray, put us down one hundred meters in front of the stationary Dodrue line,” I said as I finished strapping on my weapons.

  “Done.”

  “Has the enemy—strike that—has anyone reacted to our landing?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Is anyone speaking?”

  “Yes, there are scattered subdued conversations I intercept between their environmental units.”

  “Do you have a translation algorithm yet?”

  “Not completed, but a good partial translation matrix.”

  “Can you hail them?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Okay, here goes nothing. Tell them I am Jon Ryan, and I want to meet them. I am armed but will only fire if fired upon.”

  “Done.”

  I waited a minute. “Any response?”

  “None. I do note much less communication since your broadcast.”

  “Were they instructed to cut the chatter?”

  “Not as for as we can tell,” she replied.

  “Hmm. Maybe they’re just frightened?”

  “A safe assumption, Form One.”

  “Okay, open a hatch and seal it quickly behind me.”

  The hull parted, and I zipped out. The hatch was closed before I could even look back. I advanced slowly toward the nearest vehicle. It looked like a truck, not a tank, for whatever that might have been worth. I thought about raising my arms, but I realized that could just as well be a sign of challenge or aggression to this species. I kept my rifles shouldered, but my partial membrane was up.

  I stopped a meter from the vehicle. I could clearly see the driver. If I wasn’t in such a serious situation, I’d have doubled over laughing. There floated a red and blue striped small whale with two front fins holding a steering wheel. A driving whale. What a sight. It stared back at me, occasionally blinking.

  I raise one arm and waved. “I am Jon Ryan. I want know why you attacked my base.” I figured that even if he or she had some idea what the colonists looked like, we all looked the same to them.

  The whale blinked a bit more often, but it didn’t speak.

  Al, do you think it heard me? I said in my head.

  Yes. Its heart rate shot up, and I can confirm completed electrical activity in the ship’s radio receiver.

  “Can you hear me?” I asked.

  Nothing.

  “If you can hear me and are trying to respond, I cannot hear you.”

  Heart rate up again. You’re stressing the poor beast.

  Ya think? Let’s see, I just blew up most of his species, and now I stand right in front of him.

  “Are you able to respond to me?” I asked.

  “Yes,” finally came through my radio. What a relief.

  “Great. First off, how are you?”

  “An odd question from Death, the Destroyer of Souls.”

  I think he’d come to a firm decision about my character. “I’m not Death. I’m a … I’m just a colonist trying to stay alive. Why did you attack us?”

  “We did not.”

  “I assume you know you’re driving military vehicles directly at our settlement after it was bombarded from the sky. How can you say you did not attack us?”

  “I use my vocal cords, much as I assume you do to speak.”

  “Okay, thanks for the clarification. I did ask, didn’t I? Since we were bombed and since you are driving military vehicles toward us, I assumed you meant to attack us.”

  “No, we did not. It is not in our nature.”

  “Hmm, okay. How can you convince me of that since the evidence seems to support that you did attack us without justification?”

  “I am uncertain. That is your question, not mine.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. Aliens. “How about I break it down. Who bombarded our encampment?”

  “The Naldoser.”

  “Okay, headway. Are you the Naldoser?”

  Dude didn’t change his expression or anything. “No. That is silly to think.”

  “I’m new in town. Humor me. Who are the Naldoser?”

  “The vidalt who rule the Kingdom of Epsallor. All know this.”

  “I swear I didn’t. But that’s crazy. Why would the Naldoser bomb my colony when you were moving toward it in huge numbers?”

  “Are you a typical colonist or are some more intelligent than you? If so, might I speak with one of them instead?”

  Shot through the heart by a truck-driving whale. “No, we’re all very smart. We’re just totally unfamiliar with the politics of this planet.”

  “That is hard to swallow.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your race lives here. How could you know so little about the others who dwell here? I was not exuded yesterday.”

  I shook my head hard. Maybe despite the fact that I didn’t dream, I was dreaming. “We only came here very recently. The only species we’ve had contact with are the Epsallors. Didn’t you know that?”

  “You mean Naldoser.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I think.”

  “Back to my question about relative intelligence. Are you certain you represent at least the mean for your species?”

  I wanted to slap that blank look off his massive face. “I am above the mean. Way above.”

  “If you say so.”

  I started calculating how thick the glass was, so I could slap the jerk. “Back to my question. Why would the Naldoser fire on us precisely when you decided to attack us by land? Wait,” I slapped my palms together, “you’re working together. Allies.”

  “You say you only just arrived? Exactly how short a time have you been on this planet?”

  “A few weeks.”

  “That might justify your universal lack of understanding. My name is Aaliir. I am a wiqub. I am of the social group called the Dodrue. We are a peaceful species. We are what some would call a contemplative race.”

  “No. Soon after we landed, we spoke with the assistant subtender for the region. He said your species and his were mortal enemies that were always at war.”

  “You speak of Urpto.”

  “Yeah. Do you know him?”

  “Of him only. He is more worthless than a trail of feces in the water.”

  I had to snicker. That was a good one.

  “Are you ill or dying?” he asked.

  “No, what you said was funny.”

  “It was? It was meant to be an accurate assessment of the quality of his soul.”

  “I’m guessing you don’t like him?”

  “That assumption is reasonable. His kind have hounded mine for centuries.”

  “Yes, he said you were—”

  “I heard you. Mortal enemies constantly at war. That is untrue. We may be their enemies, but they are not ours. We feel it is beneath a sentient species to hold another as an enemy. We also feel war is a demonstration of the failure of one’s mind.”

  “Excuse me for pointing out this painfully obvious fact, but you were driving a massive war force right at my home.”

  “Yes, we were.”

  “People who don’t hate and don’t wage war don’t spearhead massive attacks.”

  “That is also true. To copy your words, painfully so.”

  “Look, you’re driving me a little crazy. You were spearheading an attack force?”

  “No, we weren’t. Do you not recall what I told you but moments ago?”

  “Dude, if I had a mirror, I’d hold it up, and you’d see yourself driving a truck surrounded by a bunch of tanks.”

  “I do not need a mirror to know I do. What is your elusive point?”

  I toyed with the notion of asking if he was stupid or something, but I didn’t. Not helpful. “Do you know what a riddle is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here’s one for you. When is the person leading an attack force not its spearhead?”

  “That is a poor riddle. There are multiple answers depending on how the question is interpreted.”


  I pointed at him. “You’re a lawyer, right?”

  “Jon Ryan, to answer in the context of what you are clearly missing, listen carefully. The leader of a force capable of inflicting military damage is not the spearhead of an attack force if he is forced to do so.”

  Huh? He was probably the head of all Dodrue lawyers. Wait. “Are you saying the Naldoser forced you into these vehicles and made you drive toward my colony?”

  “Finally, awareness dawns.”

  “B … but,” I pointed behind myself for some reason, “why would they do that? Why would you do that?”

  “Speaking with you is somewhat painful. They did it because they want you to think we attacked you. We did it because if we didn’t, they would kill us all.”

  “Bu … but …”

  “Perhaps your species has not achieved a high level of reasoning power yet. Jon, they want you dead. They want us dead. Doing what they did is brilliant. It is criminally brilliant, I should say.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I know.”

  “No, I mean go on. Keep explaining.”

  “If they attacked you directly, you might best them. You would know they were your mortal enemy. You would strike at them and likely win.”

  “I guess. No, I mean yes, that’s true.”

  “But if they get you to attack us, two positive outcomes occur. One, they know your strength without suffering a loss. Two, they are rid of us. All the while you come around to their false belief that we are bad, and they are good.”

  “They totally played us.”

  “If you say so. I say they fooled you.”

  I almost fell to my knees. “Aaliir, how you must hate me. I just killed most of your population.”

  “I do not hate you. I do not hate, and you were simply tricked into action. How can I blame a species of demonstrably lesser intelligence when it is played?”

  Lord, I had been sloppy. I was so guilty I should have been hanged, drawn, and quartered, just for starters. I saw what I wanted to see, what someone wanted me to see. I questioned nothing. I did certainly the evilest act I had ever done, and I had no excuse.

  “Jon, I sense you are torturing yourself. Please do not do that.”