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COLONY SHIP 02, UR: DOWNTOWN DISTRICT
They won’t know what hit them, thought Lee as he gazed out at the muted city, content in its peaceful slumber. It was just past three o’clock in the morning and most of the colony ship’s residents were fast asleep in their beds.
Not for much longer, though…
Behind Lee, the doppelgangers of councilors Ken Zardana and Apophis 6R-80 awaited his order to begin. The three of them stood on the roof of the Galactic Savings & Loan where they would have an unobstructed view of the coming festivities. Lee took one last look at the darkened skyline. The city itself was a construct, a fantasy, created to give people the illusion they were living on a planet instead of traveling through the vast nothingness of interstellar space. Overhead, a virtual moon was rapidly sinking towards the lower edge of the Great Dome.
The time had finally come. Lee bit into the cacaiya fruit he was holding. As always, it was the perfect combination of irresistibly sweet and delectably juicy. Cacaiyas were rare and had to be imported from the other side of the galaxy—and therefore expensive, but well worth the price. It was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself. He discarded the rubbery peel without a second thought and turned back to the matter at hand. “Alright, let’s begin. It’s time to show the good people down there some fireworks. I have a feeling it’s going to be a
blast.”
The Zardana look-alike pressed the button on a small handheld detonator. In front of them, the skyline erupted. Three balls of white-hot energy blossomed outward from a trio of skyscrapers. The city, so dark and quiet moments ago, was now bathed in the glow of its own destruction. The skyscrapers crumbled, the squeal of twisting metal not unlike the death throes of a beast being put out of its misery.
“It’s ironic, you know,” Lee said to Apophis. “During the campaign your critics complained that a CAST on the Council would be vulnerable to outside hacking. They called you a ‘security risk,’ but in the end you won them over—enough of them, anyway, to win the election. And now, here you are, breaking the sacred trust of the citizens you swore to protect.”
“Technically you are incorrect,” she replied. “The Apophis 6R-80 who made those promises was destroyed—by you, in fact. I swore no such allegiance to the people of
Ur. My sole loyalty is to you.”
Zardana tapped his ear, deactivating the wireless radio hidden inside. He turned to Lee. “The other councilors report their mission was successful. The next set of bombs is in place. We’re ready for tomorrow night.”
If only they knew… that their greatest threat right now isn’t the Darkers, but their own leaders. Lee smirked at the thought. “I’ve long suspected that a government’s true function is to slowly strangle the life out of its people. All we’re doing is helping speed up that process… one bomb at a time.”
Three buildings in a sea of thousands didn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, but they were enough to serve Lee’s purpose. A spark to ignite the flames. It was terrorism in the purest sense of the word, designed solely to instill fear and paranoia in the cowering masses. And in their fear, Lee knew, they would turn to the nearest voice of reassurance. His Council of doppelgangers would provide that voice when the time was right… and the masses would give their wholehearted support.
Like lambs to the slaughter.
* * * * * * * * *
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PLANET VOPAR: UNNAMED ISLAND CHAIN, 2100 HOURS LOCAL TIME
The beach was exceptionally dark that evening, perhaps even unnaturally so. At least it would’ve been if not for the campfire the ARKS had built with driftwood. The flames created distorted shadows that danced and leapt over the tiny dunes of sand. Above them, dark storm clouds rolled past in waves, yet the wind and rain refused to come. It was as if the planet itself were holding its breath, watching and waiting for an omen to appear.
“I don’t think this armor was designed for night missions,” Akasha remarked, rubbing her hands together near the fire. She was wearing her new Raid Sfida, an armor that offered barely more protection than her usual Neighbor Quartz.
“I hear ya.” Kira shivered and tucked her skirt tighter around her legs. “I dressed for the beach, not a moonlight campout.”
“We’ll be out of here as soon as we get in touch with ARKS Control.” Asimov sat down on a log opposite his three students. “It’s probably just radio interference. They knew our scheduled arrival time; I’m sure they’ll send someone when we don’t check in. In the meantime, if you ladies are cold I can always… help warm you up?” He spread his arms invitingly and grinned in typical Asimov fashion.
Akasha rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. “Why do you always have to be such a perv, Azzy?”
“Alas, ‘tis out of my control,” he professed, his words practically dripping with melodrama. “For you see, it is embedded deep within my circuits. My creator was a lonely woman. She had certain needs, you understand—“
“Oh
please. Last week you told me you came off the assembly line at a ‘male escort’ factory. The week before that you said your programming was corrupted by the ‘Love Bug’ virus. Every time I ask I get a different story!”
He winked. “Each more awesome than the last, am I right?”
“You girls don’t get it. Being perverted is just Azzy’s way of showing he cares,” Ivan explained. “Isn’t that right, Azzy?”
Asimov nodded sagely in agreement. “Yes, exactly! You see? Ivan here gets me. Perhaps I’ll take him as my disciple, teach him to appreciate the ‘finer things in life.’”
“Oh great,” Kira snorted. “The last thing I need is another Azzy going on about an ‘appreciation of my feminine charms.’”
Ivan shot her a knowing smile. “Then you have nothing to worry about, Spitfire, since you have no feminine charms to speak of.”
“Why you… you…” Her face flushed beet red. “I take it back, Azzy. Compared to this jerk, you’re a bona fide
saint.”
A shrill beeping noise interrupted their conversation. It was emanating from a sensor device stowed in one of the equipment packs. One of the other squad leaders, a dark-skinned man named Oran, grabbed the device and checked the readout. His eyes went wide. “Negative photon readings!” he shouted, jumping to his feet.
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“Darkers?! Where?” Asimov scooped up his rifle and joined Oran. They scanned the beach in both directions, searching for any hint of movement. Everything was quiet and peaceful, just as it had been. The only sound came from the waves gently lapping against the shore.
Asimov lowered his weapon. “False alarm?”
The third team leader, a woman by the name of Katalin, suddenly pointed skyward. “No, above us!”
Everyone looked up. Directly overhead was a raging, swirling cone of storm clouds. At the apex of that cone, staring down at them like a great malevolent eye, was a massive dimensional rift. A tear in the very fabric of space itself. And pouring through the rift were dozens upon dozens of black, winged monsters.
Darkers.
“Oh…
shit.” Asimov activated his radio. “ARKS Control, ARKS Control. Do you read me? We have an emergency situation here and require immediate extraction. If you’re going to swoop in and save us, now would be a
very good time to do it.”
Static. Asimov uttered an angry growl and switched off the radio. “Looks like we’re on our own.”
The Darkers spiraled down out of the sky like a flock of birds. They were vaguely humanoid in shape, with golden face plates and covered in what looked like a cross between scales and feathers. Each possessed a total of eight wings: four on their head, two on their back, and two more on their ankles. As they drew closer, the ARKS realized they were facing three different species: Solda Kapita with its lance and distinctive headdress, Gul Solda with its keyhole-shaped sword, and Deue Solda with its twin short swords.
There was no end to the stream of Darkers pouring out of the dimensional rift. The vanguard wave reached ground level and flew toward the ARKS parallel to the shoreline. The closer they got the faster they flew, their weapons held at the ready. If there had been any doubt as to the creatures’ intentions, it was quickly put to rest.
“Aginis Squad, get behind me,” Katalin ordered, aiming her rod.
Oran readied his wired lances. “You too, Banther Squad.”
“Get ready!” Asimov yelled. “Wait for it… take aim… FIRE!!”
Chaos ensued. The soldiers with ranged attacks—only six of the twelve—let loose with everything they had. A hailstorm of bullets, grenades, and Techniques pounded the front row of Darkers, knocking most of them from the sky. The second wave fared slightly better—at first. A few tried deflecting the attacks with their weapons but there were simply too many to avoid. Eventually they too succumbed to the onslaught of bullets, arrows, lightning, and fire.
The third wave spread out, half to the left and half to the right, forcing the ARKS to widen their attack zone. This time two Darkers made it through to engage the soldiers. They lasted less than two seconds. Oran punctured their chests with the bladed tip of his wired lances and slammed them together, killing them instantly.
The fourth wave was more devious. The Solda Kapitas fired energy spears from the ends of their weapons, forcing the ARKS to halt their offensive and defend themselves. The Darkers immediately sped up and closed the gap. What started as a one-sided ranged battle quickly devolved into a melee slugfest. It was a battle fought blade to blade and, in some cases, fist to claw. By the time the fifth wave arrived, the ARKS were too embattled to hold them off.
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It was Katalin who fell first. The Darkers probably targeted her because her fire Techniques were causing the most damage. Long streams of blazing Safoie spewed from her rod like a flamethrower, torching scores of them and dropping them like flies. As a gang of Deues rushed forward to distract Katalin, a trio of Kapitas hung back and launched their energy spears. The beams arced over the battlefield and converged on the Force instructor.
Katalin could’ve avoided them, could’ve dodged out of the way. Instead she dove headlong into the blast, taking the hit for the trainee directly behind her. The black energy pierced her armor, her chest, and finally, her heart. She tumbled backwards into the sand and out of the fight.
“KAT!!!!!” Asimov didn’t have time to look, he was too busy blasting Darkers left and right.
Katalin’s absence left a hole in the ARKS’ defense. A swarm of Guls and Deues slipped through and quickly eliminated three trainees: one from Aginis Squad, two from Banther Squad. Oran spun around, his wired blades knocking the creatures down, but the damage was already done.
A Deue he hadn’t seen snuck up behind Oran and brought its twin swords together in a pincer motion. The man’s head toppled from his body and landed in the sand with a dull thud. His lifeless body followed shortly after.
Asimov cursed and gritted his teeth. His rifle blazed without rest as he furiously, desperately, tried to hold the line.
This is the end, he thought to himself. It was a sobering realization. Yet it wasn’t himself he was concerned about, it was his students. They didn’t deserve this. None of them did.
Just then they were graced with the blessed, familiar crackle of their radios. The transmission was heavily laced with static. “ARKS Control to Gulf Lea— …taking heavy fire at— …pick you up two hundred meters north-northeast from your current loca— …E.T.A. two minutes to— …Over.”
“Acknowledged, Control.” A wave of relief washed over Asimov. He glanced over his shoulder at Akasha and the other trainees. “You heard the woman! Now go!”
“What about you, Azzy?!”
He had to shout over the roaring of his gun. “Someone has to hold them off or you’ll never make it!”
“We’re not leaving you behind!” Ivan shouted back defiantly.
“That was an order, Malloch! Get out of here or I’ll shoot you myself, dammit!” There was something in Asimov’s voice they’d never heard before, a pleading urgency that conveyed the seriousness of his command. In a softer tone, he added, “Stay sharp. Stick together, remember your training, and you’ll be fine. Now go!”
And so they went. Akasha, Kira, Ivan, and the three surviving members of the other squads dashed across the shore, leaving Asimov to deal with the Darker swarm alone. Though they didn’t look back, in their hearts Akasha and her friends were screaming.
A minute later they arrived at the spot indicated by ARKS Control. “Who here has a telepipe?” Akasha asked the group. Without one, she knew, they wouldn’t be able to teleport to the ship.
“Damn, I left it back at the campsite.” Kira winced at her own carelessness. “Sorry, Kasha.”
A Newman Gunner from Banther Squad spoke up. “I’ve got one.”
“Great! Let’s get it set up right away. The campship’ll be here to pick us up in… less than thirty seconds.”
Twenty seconds later they were done. No sooner had they finished than the ship appeared on the horizon, racing toward them at an enormous speed. The ocean seemed to part beneath it as it approached, a mechanical messiah offering the promise of salvation. The trainees couldn’t have imagined a more welcome sight. It was a vision of hope, and at that moment, a deliverance from their terrible nightmare.
Then it burst into flames.
The first explosion was followed by a second. Smoke began billowing from the starboard engine. Finally, one of its wings completely sheared off, sending the craft into a steep nosedive. It was only then that Akasha spotted the dozen black specs flitting about the hull. The Darkers, it seemed, had found them too. As the gnarled, flaming wreckage of the campship plunged to its demise beneath the waves, the black specs turned their attention to the trainees on the beach.
Kira and the Newman Gunner managed to shoot down three of them before they reached the shore. That left nine. The remaining Darkers swooped in and struck at them in a furious blur of motion. A Braver from Aginis Squad was impaled immediately. The katana fell from his limp hands and he collapsed facedown into the muddy sand, uttering little more than a surprised grunt.
Kira blasted a Deue Solda in the face, then dodge-rolled as a Gul Solda swept past, practically ignoring her. The Gul brought its heavy sword down on Akasha, who managed to get her Lambda Hellfret up just in time to block it. The creature pressed down and she pressed back, neither side willing to budge. Just then a Deue came rushing at her from the side. With her weapon otherwise occupied, Akasha had no way to defend herself—until she remembered its special function. With the press of a button, the halves of her double saber slid apart with a slight
hiss. She used one half to continue blocking the Gul. The other swept in a horizontal arc meant to decapitate the Deue. The move worked, but not in time. Akasha suppressed a yelp as the Deue sliced open her right shoulder with its dying breath.
One down, one to go. Sidestepping to the right, Akasha let the Gul slide past her, pivoted on her heel, and planted one of her daggers in its back. The Gul was dead by the time she retrieved it.
That was too close for comfort, she thought. These weren’t like the simulations she’d fought in VR training. They were very real… and very dangerous.
As if to prove the point, a Solda Kapita charged her with its lance extended. Akasha had no intention of letting it reach her. Channeling a powerful burst of photon energy in her body, she swung her daggers in a cross-shaped motion. Each blade released a crescent of explosive fire energy. The waves struck the Darker in the torso and erupted, one after the other, a fatal one-two combo.
Akasha barely had time to catch her breath before another Deue appeared to challenge her. She ducked under its swinging blade and lost her balance in the shifting sand.
Not good. Definitely not good. The Deue raised its twin swords high, ready to skewer Akasha’s prone body. At the last moment, a burst of gunfire ripped through its skull and ended the threat.
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Kira lowered her weapons. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks,” said Akasha, “but why are they all going after
me?!”
“Because you’re the biggest target?”
“Very funny,” she replied sarcastically, rising to her feet. Surveying the scene, Akasha spotted Ivan finishing off the last of the Darkers. They were safe again, at least for now.
The five remaining trainees gathered next to the telepipe pad. “You’re hurt,” said Ivan, watching the blood trickle down Akasha’s arm.
Truthfully, she’d forgotten all about it. “I’m fine.”
“Here, let me see.” He tore a strip from his jacket sleeve and wrapped it around her shoulder. “That should stop the bleeding, but we’ve got a bigger problem right now. Namely, getting a ride out of here.”
“There are still two campships in orbit, right?” asked the sole survivor of Aginis Squad.
“Let’s find out.” Ivan switched on his radio. “Gulf-3 to ARKS Control. Do you read me? The rescue ship was shot down, we need another ASAP.”
At first, silence. Then Control’s static-laced voice: “…read you, Gulf-3. Sit tight. We have another— …inbound, E.T.A. five minutes. Over.”
“Acknowledged,” said Ivan. He turned back to gaze in the direction they’d come from. The direction they’d left Asimov. Was he still out there, still fighting for his life, all by himself? Was his sacrifice worth the lives of the five trainees? It wasn’t right. None of it was right. This war had turned people into statistics, into worthless numbers. Asimov wasn’t a statistic. He deserved better than that.
Never leave a fellow soldier behind, he told me. Not if you can help it.
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At that moment, something inside Ivan snapped. What he said next surprised him as much as it did everyone else. “Actually, Control, I don’t think I can wait after all. Gulf Leader, his position is, uh, compromised. I’m going back for him… I’m going to bring him back.”
“WHAT?!” Akasha and Kira exclaimed in unison.
The radio crackled with more static. “Negative, Gulf-3. Conditions— ...too dangerous to attempt a rescue. Get to— …safe location and await extraction. I repeat, do
not attempt— …too dangerous.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission, Control. I’m not going to abandon my squad leader… and my friend. My decision is final. Gulf-3, out.”
“Gulf-3, failure to comply with— …constitutes insubordination and will result in—“
Ivan switched his radio off, abruptly ending the controller’s warning. “Well, you heard the lady. I won’t ask you to come with me, all I ask is that you don’t try to stop me. Azzy wouldn’t leave us behind and I’m certainly not going to leave him either.”
Akasha didn’t know what to say. “Ivan…”
“You sure about this?” asked Kira.
“Yeah,” he replied. His hands, he realized, wouldn’t stop shaking. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Akasha rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m with you.”
“Me too,” Kira added with a grim smile. “We owe Azzy that much.”
“Thank you. Both of you.” He regarded the other two trainees. “What about you? Coming or staying?”
They glanced at each other, then back at Ivan. “Staying,” said the one on the left, “but good luck.”
Gulf Squad sprinted into the darkness of the night. There was a good chance they were running to their deaths. All three of them knew it. Yet, in spite of that, they simply couldn’t bear to leave Asimov behind. He was more than just their instructor. He was their mentor, their comrade, their friend. He was their voice of reason and their guiding light. And he needed their help.
* * * * * * * * *
At that very moment, next to their former campsite, Asimov was waging a bitter one-man war. One of his arms lay ruined in the sand. The other clutched his trusty Strauss rifle. He was determined to stay alive as long as possible so that he might buy the trainees a few precious minutes. Of course, he had no way of knowing they were already on their way back to save him.
Above him, the Darker swarm nearly blotted out the night sky. Activating his weapon’s secondary firing mode, Asimov pummeled them with a barrage of incendiary grenade rounds. The resulting explosions somehow reminded him of the fireworks displays he’d seen aboard
Ur after the ARKS’ great military victories.
A fitting tribute, he decided,
for a last stand.
All around him, the bodies of flaming, screeching Darkers were raining down. His grenade reserves reached empty so he switched back to AP rounds. He swept the rifle back and forth, catching a dozen more as they closed in on him from all sides. A Gul Solda brought its sword down across his back, rending a vicious gash. Asimov kept firing. A Deue Solda stabbed him in the shoulder and yet he refused to fall. Refused to give in. Still, it was only a matter of time.
This isn’t how I would’ve preferred to go out. I would’ve picked something less… violent. On an operating table, maybe, surrounded by pretty girls… Distantly Asimov heard the hollow
click, click, click as his Strauss was finally drained of ammunition.
That was it, then. He had no more tricks up his sleeve, no concealed weapons. There was nothing more he could do except surrender to the inevitable. He’d led a good life, a respectable life. All eighty-seven years of it. This was no time for regrets.
He let go of the rifle and smiled a peaceful, contented smile.
Then the Darkers tore him apart.
TO BE CONTINUED
Originally Posted by AIDA
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Yeah, I wanted to introduce Aki to the readers when she was introduced to Akasha's group, that's why I only referred to her as the Headmaster in Chapters 2.1 and 3.4. Clearly some things have happened between the last time the readers saw her and where she is now, what with the change in appearance and the new job title (and rank).
And yes Zorafim, you're exactly right. I tried to make Asimov one of the most likeable characters in the story because I wanted the readers to feel hurt when he died. If I can get the readers' emotions to parallel the main characters' then I consider my effort a success.
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