Galactic Confrontation - Part One: Galactic Terror, #5

CHAPTER 1

Reyes ducked and leaned left after the drone had passed between her and Lorgantic. Adrenaline flooded her body, accelerating her pulse and putting her nerves on edge. With what she had to face, she could do with no extra surprises.

The small vessel shot ahead and spun around. It flew backwards while fixing on them through its single circular lens. The tall, grizzled general continued to set their pace back to the hangar while the small machine matched their progress, remaining about five metres ahead the entire time. Their grey rocky surroundings reflected off its highly polished body.

Faz Went walked on Reyes’ left. And she had nothing against him. Sparks’ good friend, which made them close by default, but a poor substitute. Especially with what lay ahead. If she could have one wish, it would be for Sparks to accompany her in her arrowhead fighter when she ventured out into the desert. Bad enough she had to face him. If only she didn’t have to do it alone.

Fryalt walked beside Faz, and a pair of bipedal hadounds bookended their group like their personal escorts. With over one thousand gloyners and hadounds in the hangar, many of whom still blamed Reyes and Sparks for the current state of their planet, it made sense to have chaperones.

Pairs of strip lights ran along the stony ceiling beside the rails used by the cargo-carrying claws. The glare from each one dazzled Reyes as the reflection crested the drone’s curved top, ran down its nose, and winked off its small lens.

Before they passed the next bulb, the drone’s cyclops eye glowed. It projected a cone of light that ended as a square screen.

Urgh! Reyes groaned at the footage.

You know him? The tunnel amplified Lorgantic’s booming tones. He delivered everything with an authority that made it sound like an order.

Cornelius Capernicus.

A proud being, the grizzled general showed few weaknesses. But from the way he squinted and leaned closer to the screen, he was clearly losing his eyesight. But how bad had it got? So it is. He stood straighter and lifted his chest like keeping a stiff upper lip would combat his failing vision.

Just looking at the vile cretin made the flesh at the back of Reyes’ neck tighten, and shalt eels squirm in her stomach. Were it not for her and Sparks, he’d still be in prison. The three-foot-tall orange-skinned being paced in front of the camera, his hands behind his back. His curly blond hair bounced with his steps, each one punctuated by the click of an extra-high heel that fooled no one. We should have killed him when we had the chance.

You weren’t to know.

But we should have worked it out. Should have done our due diligence. What kind of marine takes work from a stranger without question?

A desperate one.

My dad would be so ashamed.

Were you mine, I’d find it impossible to be any prouder of you.

Reyes’ throat stung with her gulp.

And while everyone here hates our current situation, we don’t blame you.

You don’t?

No. Regardless of where we’ve ended up, we understand your intentions were good. Many are upset. Grieving. But you didn’t take their loved ones, and while you might be an object onto which we can project our trauma, that neither solves our current predicament nor diminishes the pain.

You think everyone feels that way?

I know they do.

Maybe the chaperones weren’t so necessary. But don⁠—

Click! Cornelius Capernicus came to a halt with a snap of his heels. His wispy blond hair twitched with his erratic movements. Six hours until the war. Reyes’ stomach tightened. Would she still be alive by then? Cornelius leaned towards the camera, giving them a view up his hairy and snot-clogged nostrils. Make sure you’re ready. There are many more gloyners and hadounds in hiding. Somewhere on this armpit of a planet glows the rebellious embers of revolution. They refuse to accept the starinium mine is now under new ownership. He stamped his little foot with another sharp click! If we don’t sniff them out and crush them, those embers will glow brighter, fuelled by the delusion they could win this war. His milky-white eyes narrowed. If we leave them untended, we could well find ourselves having to extinguish a raging inferno. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know we’re more than a match for them, but let’s remain vigilant, and before they have time to get ahead of themselves, let’s make sure we extinguish their hope.

The light in the drone’s eye died. It spun around and flew off towards the hangar.

Faz’s shirt flapped with his rattling respiration. Six hours doesn’t give us long.

General Lorgantic leaned over Reyes, casting her in shadow. Which makes me have to ask again … Are you sure this is the right course of action?

I wish it weren’t, but I can’t see any other way.

Even when he tried to lower his voice, Lorgantic’s baritone roll rumbled through the tunnels like a distant earthquake. But we need your help. He jabbed a thick finger towards the hangar. You’ve seen them in action. We only have six hours to get them ready.

We could have another month and it wouldn’t be long enough to help.

There’s always room for improvement.

But enough improvement? Reyes turned her palms to the rocky ceiling. Towards the strip lights and railings. With the time we have left, I’m not sure I can teach them anything more than to point their weapons towards the enemy and pull the trigger.

That’s all you have?

Can you think of a better use of their time?

Faz and Fryalt kept pace with the debating pair, but save for Faz’s occasional rattle and the scuff of Fryalt’s heavy steps, they remained quiet.

Have some faith in them.

"Faith is something I lost a long time ago. Dad taught me to focus on training and a solid strategy. But anyway, it’s not about my trust in them. I’d much rather be working on getting them more prepared. But do you really think some untrained gloyners is our biggest issue right now?" Reyes turned to the pair on her left and raised her eyebrows. Faz and Fryalt could intervene at any time. Sparks would have had her back.

After throwing up his massive shoulders with a shrug, Lorgantic barked a single cough, clearing the phlegm like a firing cannon. He stared ahead at the hangar and scowled as if the lights were too bright.

Exactly. We all know this war hinges on my success.

But what if you fail?

Then we’ve lost. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. Reyes’ first impression of the general showed him to be a pillar of strength. A powerful, muscular veteran. A patriarch who’d been born to bear this community’s burden. But with time, his cracks showed. Frayed around the edges from too many battles. Softened by too much trauma and too many personal relationships. It tainted the lens through which he viewed the world. So of course he wanted to serve his community first. If I don’t do this now, we have no chance. And no matter how much you want it to be true, I can’t train the untrainable. I’m not a miracle worker. I’d struggle with a remotely competent army, and this lot don’t even live in the same galaxy as competence.

Faz and Fryalt halted first. A few steps later, Reyes took her eyes from Lorgantic and dropped her head with a sigh. Shit! They’d entered the vast hangar. What had been a hive of activity had fallen silent. She’d become the focus of at least five hundred uniformed gloyners. They clung to their weapons like they had nothing else.

Lorgantic sighed. Great motivational speech, Reyes.

You want a motivational speech? She raised her voice and pointed back the way they’d come. "How about I tell them what’s waiting for us out there? Ask them what they think’s more important? If I don’t sort this now, nothing else matters. You might not see that, but I’m sure they will. If there was any way I could avoid what lies ahead and stay here to put this lot through their paces, then I would. Her speech extinguished the few flickering flames of hope. Dropped the few heads that had remained up. The gloyners returned to their preparations while Reyes returned to the tunnel. She lowered her voice. You want my honest assessment?"

Lorgantic shrugged.

When it all goes to shit, be ready to release the scorm.

Lorgantic’s eyes widened. His broken tusk shoved his top lip higher. But they’re a last resort.

I know.

He threw up his powerful arms. Maybe we should just release them now and be done with it?

Maybe that’s not such a bad idea?

Lorgantic snorted and peered over Reyes’ head. Faz?

Faz shrugged and rattled.

Speak your mind.

Avoiding Reyes’ attention, Faz gripped his porcelain-skinned chin in a pinch. He lost focus, fixing on the middle distance. I agree with Reyes. He rattled again. He’d been rattling more of late. His focus returned. Not about the scorm, they can stay where they are. But there’s nothing more important right now. She has to get suited up and get out there.

He might agree with her, and he might support her, but he hadn’t yet offered to join her. And what could he do? He wasn’t Sparks.

I agree. Fryalt half-turned away from her glaring general. A mountain of a creature, she stood over twelve feet tall, yet she stood like a scolded child in the face of his fury. She focused on the rocky ground. Her voice weakened. You asked for honesty. We’re all worried, General, but trying to train our army isn’t the best use of our time. Even if we were successful and made them better, what then? They step outside and get ripped limb from limb?

All one thousand of them?

Who would you back in that fight? Reyes has to face him, and we have to hope she wins. She looked him in the eye and trembled as if it took all her effort to remain there. Deep down, you know that.

Quint, one of the more competent gloyners Reyes had met, paused a few metres away as if nervous to get too close to Lorgantic.

The massive hadound relaxed.

Quint clearly took his change in demeanour as a cue. He saluted his general. Three armies have already landed and set up camp. There’s one more in the sky. Along with the Ringdell Group’s main ship, we believe these four factions are this war’s primary instigators. Those who clearly have no allegiance to any of the four, we believe are mercenaries for hire. He moved his focus from the general to Faz Went. The city remains filled with booby traps.

Still gripping his chin, Faz nodded. We need to gather intel on these armies. We also need to plot several routes through the city for those entering from the desert.

Quint nodded. That’s what I’m thinking.

Faz rattled. And we have six hours in which to do it.

Yep.

After several more nods, more for himself than anyone else, Faz Went threw his arms around Reyes and pulled her in for a tight hug. Good luck.

He tried to pull away, but Reyes clung on.

A twist to free himself, he stepped back, gripped the tops of her arms, and stooped, fixing her with his emerald green stare. You don’t need me for this one. You know what’s out there. My skills can be put to much better use mapping out this city.

Reyes nodded before dropping her attention to the rough stony ground. If only she had Sparks beside her right now.

I believe in you.

She filled her lungs and lifted her head again. Thank you.

After a final hug, Faz Went left, following Quint through the main hangar before vanishing down another tunnel. Fryalt half-bowed, half-nodded, and moved off too, leaving Reyes with Lorgantic.

The mechs they’d come for remained lined up against the far wall. They stood to attention like an army of small gods. Or was that her looking upon them with a hopeful eye? With what she had to face, she could really use the might of a deity. A deity’s might and all the luck in the galaxy. She’d need it when she stepped out into the desert to face Piltred.

CHAPTER 2

Sparks swayed, stumbled, and braced against the wall as Shalk took several sharp turns and landed on a nearby asteroid with a crunch! All the while, Squiltantor had sat on the bench in the back, strapped in and clinging to Hat.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, Sparks joined him and Greeta, leaning between the pair in the cockpit as Shalk shut off the ship’s engines. It killed the background hum from her digital intuition. She’d been tuned into everything and nothing at once. Her ears rang in its absence. The vast chrome blockade ship dominated their view. It blocked their path to Flanterian. Stood in the way of her returning to Reyes and Faz Went. She’d been away from them for too long. Reyes especially. Shaped like a doughnut and lit like a star, were it not for the hole in the blockade ship’s centre, it would have cast all of Flanterian in darkness like a solar eclipse. What must that look like from down there?

Greeta leaned closer to the windscreen as if she didn’t already have a clear enough view of the chrome monstrosity. Awful.

Because it sat between them and Flanterian, the blockade ship had obscured their view of the hundreds, if not thousands of ships ready to invade. A kaleidoscopic chaotic mix of vessels. Several clusters representing larger armies punctuated the visual disorder of mercenaries for hire. The closest, a collection of dark blue freighters and warships. They were a mess of sharp edges that’d destroy anything into which they crashed. Although, they probably let nothing near, their spear-like tips loaded with plasma cannons and rocket launchers. As if in stark contrast, a nearby pastel yellow fleet had rounded edges that looked better suited for being underwater than in space. The third fleet was a gunmetal grey stain that clearly cared little for aesthetics. Ugly, but loaded with weapons. They prized function over form. Substance over style. Plasma over paintwork.

Sparks’ eyes ached from scanning the darkness, and it took longer to find the final cluster amongst the ragtag army. They belonged to the same faction, but unlike the others, they had no accompanying larger vessels. Instead, the jet-black arrowhead fighters weaved through the chaos like a school of fish. Like they cared for nothing else but chaos and carnage. They were here for war. They’d work out how to get away again when they’d fulfilled their purpose.

Shalk sat in the pilot’s seat, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Sparks followed his line of sight. She rested her hand on his back, and he flinched at her touch. Things look a whole lot worse since we were here last.

His monotone voice matched his distant stare. It makes me wonder if there’s anything left.

The palace still has its force field.

But what does that mean?

That someone down there’s still in control.

And if it’s the Ringdell Group?

Then we’ll take it off them and hope there’s still an army of gloyners and hadounds ready for the fight.

Hope?

It’s a fool’s errand, I know. But what’s the other option? We quit?

He shook his head.

Greeta leaned back to look up at Sparks. The familiar chaos in her deep brown eyes had softened. She usually looked at her with resentment, but her tone had lost its edge. And hopefully Faz Went and Reyes are still down there too.

Sparks returned a tight-lipped smile. So, what are we doing here, Shalk?

Tell me if I’m wrong, Greeta, but my guess is if we keep the engines running and get too close to that blockade ship⁠—

We’ll light their sensors up like a slot machine hitting the jackpot.

Uh … Shalk shrugged. Sure.

The lull in the digital interference brought with it a peace rarely afforded to Sparks. If only she had the time to enjoy it. Attached to the asteroid like a limpet grenade, hidden from sight in a small crevice, they rotated with the dead lump of rock. Safe, but not a plan. So, what now?

Greta scratched her furry face. Small fighters buzzed around the chrome blockade ship. They entered and exited the many open hangars around its wide circumference. We hijack another ship. One that has a friendly signature to that chrome monstrosity. Maybe that’ll allow us to sneak past the blockade and land on Flanterian unquestioned.

No way. I’m not leaving my ship.

Sparks stood up straight, knocking into Squiltantor, who’d moved in close behind her. She reached back and touched his furry paunch. Sorry.

Don’t mind me. He wore a permanently compassionate glow while holding Hat close.

Uh, Shalk?

Uh, Sparks?

You chose to land your ship here.

Correct.

Which likely saved us.

Correct.

Because you know your ship will⁠—

Light up their sensors like a slot machine.

Hitting jackpot, Greeta said.

Shalk rolled his eyes. Your point, Sparks?

Well, what next?

"What do you mean what next?"

You took action because you know you can’t fly this ship any closer.

Correct.

But you won’t leave it?

Correct.

Those parameters somewhat limit our options.

Greeta tutted and rolled her eyes. Correct.

A ripple of a wince disturbed Shalk’s face. This ship means a lot.

Don’t be soft.

Screw you, Greeta.

But she’s right. Sparks removed her glasses and rubbed her stinging eyes. They’d not rested in days. We delayed coming back here, delayed returning to Reyes and Faz Went to help you.

"I wouldn’t have been on the Sunny Horizon were it not for you."

"Have you forgotten that you were the one who captured me?"

Because you handed our planet over to the Ringdell Group! At least you have someone to come back to. Because of you, those I love are dead.

That’s not fair.

Yet I have to live with it.

Sparks put on her glasses again. Shalk trembled where he sat, his eyes glassy with tears. It’s a ship, Shalk. We’ll find another one on Flanterian.

Not this one we won’t. Not only has it carried us to safety⁠—

We’re not safe yet.

"But it also carries many of my most precious memories. They’re all I have left."

Greeta jabbed a stubby finger against her temple. Your skull carries your memories, not your ship. She slapped the dashboard hard. This is little more than an inanimate object.

Shalk opened his mouth, but Greeta silenced him with a raised palm. What use are memories when you’re dead? Taking this ship any closer will be suicide. And if you’re intent on not leaving it, then we have no chance of getting to Flanterian. Would you give up on your community to protect your ship?

Look, Shalk.

Shalk pointed at Sparks. Don’t!

Greeta has a point. This ship isn’t compatible with our mission.

"I’m not leaving it."

Do you really expect us to leave Reyes, Faz Went, and all those hadounds and gloyners fighting it out on Flanterian while we hide up here like cowards?

"I’m not leaving it."

Squiltantor eased Sparks away from the cockpit and handed her Hat. The furball brought his damp smell close as he licked her neck. Her pulse settled a little, as it always did when she had him in her arms. Squiltantor had called him a guardian. Had been in awe of his power. Had it always been there? Right under her nose? In her arms. As obvious as a damp reek? She pulled him closer to her chest.

What memories, Shalk? Squiltantor said.

"This is the ship I used to transport Spirulanu to the hangar when she went into labour. The twins had their first