Apex (32 page)

The golden warrior took a step forward and grabbed his wrist, touching and twisting a small panel. The armored glove retracted into his forearm plate in response.

“Thanks,” Riax said, copying the process on his other hand and opening the passageways to release his bioplasma if needed. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes again, recalibrating his senses and summoning a ripple of concussive energy around his body, making sure that it was manifesting outside the armor rather than at his skin. He didn't want to blow the armor off himself in the process.

He released a small amount as a test, and succeeded in calibrating his release to compensate for the armor, but the blast wave impacted his shields, draining them and not passing through. Frustrated by the incompatibility of Cres technology with his physiology, he reached for and found the mental on/off switch for his armor's shields, seeing that its rate of sequence was a bit slow. He toggled it off, released a small forearm blast against the wall, then reactivated his shields, cringing at the slight delay.

It would do.

He looked up at the stationary Cres. Another two combat squads had appeared behind the others and were waiting to see what he did next.

“I have point,” he announced, then gestured towards Ella. “She has operational command. I'll break up and disrupt their formations, then you pick up the pieces.”

Riax turned towards the blockades where the two Cres commandos were still on station and deployed his golden helmet.
Let's move.

He took off running slowly, with Ella on his shoulder. The rest of the commandos followed neatly behind in pairs, ready for action.

 

Chapter 36

W
ORD
OF
THE
Human's presence and his death being the objective of the Nevari attack spread quickly across the jumpship, and eyewitness accounts of his combat prowess quelled most doubts as to the truth of his existence, but Jalek needed to see for himself. Ever since he'd been ordered to deploy his troops on the jumpship he'd been wondering what in the galaxy would have possessed the Nevari to seize it inside Cres territory.

If a Human were present that would explain their nearly suicidal actions, but it'd been 16,000 years since they'd been eradicated. What were the odds that one had survived all this time? He'd heard Ella's story, retransmitted from mind to mind until it made its way back to the commander of the boarding parties, but part of him still couldn't fathom it being true, while another part of him desperately hoped that it was.

Jalek ran through friendly territory on the jumpship with two escorts in tow, for they really had no choice but to run, otherwise they'd never get anywhere in time on the monstrous ship. They passed small teams returning wounded to temporary medical stations, backtracking their route as the troops continued to fight their way further into the interior, compressing the remaining Nevari into a smaller and smaller area by simultaneously attacking them on multiple flanks.

As they ran, Jalek received numerous reports on their progress, some telepathic, some coming over the comms. Progress was slow, but consistent. The Nevari were cornered and they knew it, but they weren't surrendering and digging in for a long campaign, knowing that the Cres intended on recapturing the jumpship rather than destroying it.

Jalek hit the light backguard line of troops and got quick directions to where the Human was fighting. The three golden-­clad Cres moved forward through the lines, indistinguishable in view from the others but telepathically unique in presence. The troops made way for them to pass and Jalek's trio soon left the confines of the corridors and entered into one of the massive open air parks, meeting up with a staging area guard detail that was holding several dozen Nevari captive, most of whom were injured to some degree.

After a short detour cattycorner across the park, they entered the city streets and heard the first bits of distant weaponsfire. Jalek gripped his lachar pistol tighter and moved over towards the right as they advanced through the curvy streets to give himself a bit of cover.

Several minutes later they came into the fray. The Nevari had barricaded themselves inside a section of buildings with numerous portable barriers deployed throughout the surrounding streets. He could sense hundreds of enemy troops but only saw a few out in the open. Several long-­range sniper blasts zipped out from nooks and crannies targeting his troops as they hunkered down behind the first few rows of barricades that they'd managed to capture and were now using for themselves.

Jalek stepped over several Nevari bodies and noticed others scattered around the area. He took cover along with his escorts next to a pair of Cres wielding the enemy's sniper rifles.

“Report.”

“The Human is cleaning out one of the side buildings,” the sniper said as he sighted through the tiny scope. “We're to keep the others bottled up and protect his flank. They've got snipers up high and flankers along the side streets. We've been ambushed from behind several times and think there's a series of maintenance tunnels throughout the structures that don't appear on the map, so stay sharp.”

Jalek nodded, sweeping the immediate area for additional minds as one of the Cres snipers fired a single shot, hitting a red-­armored cap that had drifted too high over a barricade. As if in response, a flurry of red lachar blasts angled down from multiple levels on the central building block, targeting a position out of sight to the left of the street on the surrounding ‘square.'

A telepathic order echoed through all the present Cres minds and as one they opened up suppression fire on the buildings, which immediately reduced the incoming fire as the Nevari dove for cover. In that brief moment of hesitation a tiny white orb impacted the street barricades at the buildings' main entrance and blew them apart, revealing a dozen or so troops crouched behind.

Jalek watched as his troops mowed them down from afar with a slew of assault rifle shots, too numerous to have missed such obvious targets. “Where did that plasma blast come from?”

“The Human,” one of the snipers said.

“What kind of weapons is he outfitted with?”

“He didn't take any,” the other sniper answered. “He's using his powers.”

“Well that plasma blast came from some type of weapon,” Jalek insisted. “Is it something the Nevari brought?”

“No, it came from the Human. I saw him do it earlier. He's retracted the armor on his hands and releasing the plasma from his palm.”

Jalek stared at him, annoyed. “Plasma would burn right through a person's hand. You're talking like raw cadets.”

“I don't know how he's doing it, Prefect, but he is. Look for yourself.”

Jalek glanced back down at the entrance which was now strewn with bodies as one of his troops ran across the open area in a blur, drawing more fire from above. One shot hit his shields, he thought, but he couldn't be sure at this distance. The golden-­armored warrior disappeared inside the entrance, with internal flashes of lachar fire visible in the darkened interior.

“That's the Human?” Jalek asked, seeing his pale hands.

“He's wearing our armor,” the closest sniper said as he received additional telepathic orders. Further up the street assault rifle blasts broke out and covered the face of the buildings. Both snipers leapt up and advanced to the next row of barricades. Jalek and his escorts stayed put.

“No Cres can move that fast,” the guard on his right commented.

Jalek nodded his agreement. “I'm not convinced it's actually a Human, but whatever it is it's tearing into the Nevari lines,” he said, sensing mental dots of Nevari troops inside the building winking out.

Several Cres ahead of them emerged from cover and began running forward.

“They're going in,” the other guard offered.

“I want a closer look,” Jalek said, sprinting ahead to the next available cover. The snipers had already moved up two more and were taking shots at the third story balconies when the Prefect received a mental summons from his right and spotted an open doorway. He ran over to it and ducked inside with his escorts following a step behind, finding himself in an impromptu command post/medical area. He walked over and knelt down next to a commando with a hole in her armored leg, plugged now with a filler gel.

“Sniper shot,” she told him. “Whatever they're packing isn't standard issue. Went clear through with one shot after my shields were down.”

Jalek adjusted his line of sight and noticed an exit hole in the opposite side of her leg armor, just above a pool of purple/black blood on the floor. He put a hand on her armored shoulder and looked into her pain-­ridden eyes, having a silent conversation with her, then stood up and walked through the other wounded, along with two corpses that had been dragged inside.

He studied his troops' wounds. Almost all of them had suffered from high-­powered sniper shots. A technology that the Nevari had never fielded before.

An all-­clear telepathic signal washed through every mind in the immediate area and one of the badly wounded commandos mouthed the word ‘Darmek' in response. Another repeated the word louder, then another, and another until a subtle victory chant resonated throughout the eight wounded troops.

Jalek cautiously walked outside and saw that his infantry had abandoned their cover and advanced on the buildings. He ran through the street and met up with them under the overhang that covered the main entrance. A posted sentry nodded his respect to the Prefect as he walked past.

Now that he was close, Jalek could sense a powerful non-­Cres mind in the building, but it was hazy, almost a specter rather than a strong signal. That feeling didn't abate even when he finally encountered the mysterious individual two levels up as he was coming back down.

“Prefect,” Riax said, picking up on his telepathic identifier. “What's the status of the space battle?”

Jalek stared into his own reflection in the man's golden faceplate. “Who are you?”

Riax retracted his helmet and repeated his question, this time with his mental presence being unmasked. “Status?”

Jalek froze for a moment. He'd never seen or felt a Human before, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind that this truly was one. His mind was . . . beyond reckoning.

He blinked twice, then seemed to get hold of himself. “The enemy has been routed. We're cleaning up the stragglers.”

“Here too,” Riax echoed. “There are two more major areas of resistance. Once I've eliminated them have your troops sweep the ship for remaining Nevari and any hidden survivors. They killed all they could find, but we've come across a few that successfully hid out.”

Riax walked on past the Prefect and jogged down the nearest set of stairs with Ella right behind him and another six troops following in tight formation as if he were in charge. Technically that was true if he was a Human, but after such a long absence it felt odd to Jalek. He let them go without a word, trying to rectify in his mind how this could be real and knowing better than to stand in his way, but all of a sudden the chain of command had just become . . . complicated.

Humans had originally been their default commanders, given that they had trained the Cres and used them in many low level engagements when Human troops were unavailable, or when the task was so small not to warrant their presence in numbers. The Humans had always trumped any existing command infrastructure the moment they arrived, but the Cres had operated so long without them that that rule, while still maintained in the codex out of loyalty, was effectively null and void in the present.

Nonetheless it was there, and now served a purpose. Unless this was a gigantic ruse this Human had command and that was that, regardless of any misgivings Jalek might have.

“You heard the order,” he finally told his escorts. “Police these bodies and begin organizing search teams.”

 

Chapter 37

A
FTER
THE
REMAINING
pockets of resistance were eliminated Riax and Ella were escorted to the docking level and boarded a troop shuttle that took them off the Yiori jumpship, which gave them their first look at the remains of the space battle.

Chunks of tan/green Nevari ships floated about, corralled into large globs by small Cres corvettes with their mooring beams while frigates swept the immediate area collecting smaller debris so as not to create a navigational hazard within the system. With their mooring beams spread wide like fins the small ships scurried about while the larger ones floated nearby in guard formation.

All the Cres capital ships had bluish/green curves and appeared organic in design, with no obvious compartments or components. The smooth hulls concealed their weapons batteries, plasma engines, and docking bays beneath hidden doors on the ships, and while stationary appeared as if they were large clouds or marine creatures floating about harmlessly in space.

One of the larger warships in the formation opened its port bay door, breaking the smooth lines with a glowing square lit by interior lights. The pilot of the troop shuttle angled toward the waiting cruiser and carefully slid the double-­hulled ship inside the bay, setting down and opening the forward loading ramp for the passengers to disembark without delay.

Riax followed four other Cres out with Ella and several others in his wake as the captain of the warship and his senior staff walked forward to greet them.

“Darmek,” the Captain offered with a short bow. “You honor us with your presence.”

“Thank you,” Riax said, glancing at the trim, dull white uniforms they were wearing. “I see your ship is of the Vertisan line.”

The Captain nodded. “All of our frontline warships are,” he said with pride.

“Vertisan is outdated,” Riax pointed out, quelling the sentiment. “Why are you not fielding your more advanced designs?”

“Apologies, Darmek, but these are the best we can produce. We have retained the blueprints for the Garrnt, Apoca, and Erantric lines but our scientists have not been able to create the necessary compounds required for them.”

Riax raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

One of the staffers took a half step forward when the Captain didn't have an answer. “There is an element spoken of that we can't identify in the Erantric line,” he said, sending a mental picture of the symbol.

“Djor,” Riax said, easily recognizing the Cres symbol. “It is comprised of four protons, four neutrons, two corovon, and a leron. I suspect that you have no leron production?”

“Not to my knowledge,” the Captain answered, exchanging glances with the staffer. “I do not even know what a leron is.”

“It is a rare subatomic particle. In Djor it is bound with others in a matrix that is unusually stable while having the capacity to bond with other elements in atypical ways thanks to the leron. We created the element and supplied it to the Cres for the creation of your Erantric line. What are you lacking for the others?”

Ella gently touched his elbow, speaking aloud so the others could hear as well. “We have very few corovon mines. Most of our supply is acquired through trade.”

“I see,” Riax said regretfully, mentally ticking off all the necessary compounds that required the rare element. Vertisan line ships would have required two compounds containing corovon, not counting fuel, while the next tier Garrnt line required nine. “Captain, I need immediate transport to Illora. I assume you arrived by way of jumpship?”

“Yes, we brought two.”

“Set course for one of your choosing, as well, designate as many escort ships as you deem necessary without shortchanging the fleet's operations here.”

“I'll confer with Sa-­Prefect Daret and have arrangements made within the hour,” the Captain said confidently. “Is there anything that you require in the interim? A change of clothing perhaps? We have already set aside quarters for your use.”

“Clothing, yes . . . and food,” Riax said, with Ella smirking behind him even though she knew better than anyone else how much energy he had expended during the battle. “For her too,” he added, gesturing back at Ella.

The Captain turned and looked at his second in command. “See to it, Depra. Darmek,” he said, excusing himself with a respectful nod before heading off to the bridge.

“This way,” the Depra gestured, leading Riax and Ella over to a dark green oval doorway that led to the ship's interior.

R
IAX
TOOK
A
long dunk in the cleansing tube . . . the Cres version of a shower. It was a clear, vertical cylinder imbedded in the floor and filled with water and various chemicals. When he stripped off his armor and clothes and slipped inside, the waters began to churn about in a therapeutic massage that doubled as a means of abrasive cleaning.

With his head fully submersed Riax felt small jets of warm water digging into his skin like a laser scalpel, tickling in spots and depositing additional oxygen into the water making it easier for him to breathe. He stayed inside for a good twenty minutes before draining the cylinder and having the panel beneath his feet raise him up to floor level.

A ring descended from the ceiling on two expanding rods and lowered around his body, emitting an energy field that pulled the excess fluid off his skin. It reached all the way down to the floor, then made a second sweep as it rose back into the ceiling, making Riax's now bone dry hair tingle a bit with static electricity.

The Cres had provided him with a variety of uniforms, all of which doubled as wetsuits. He chose a light blue one and pulled on the single piece garment, which included flexible foot pads attached at the bottom with an optional release. He disconnected the shoe pieces and wiggled the pants into position. It was a snug, but sufficiently limber fit. He added the shoes but left them unattached as he walked over to a reflective wall panel.

“Not really your color,” Ella commented from the next compartment as she stepped into the archway connection.

Riax glanced over at her dark blue variant, a ­couple shades off from her skin tone. “It'll do.”

“The Captain has made arrangements. We'll be docking with the jumpship soon and from there it'll take a direct route to the homeworld. Six jumps with no stops.”

“And?” Riax asked, sensing something else was on her mind.

“Is this where we part ways?” she asked tentatively. “You told the Captain to give me quarters as well, but technically my mission to return you to us is complete. I was wondering what you had planned for me, or am I assuming too much?”

Riax leaned against a soft wall, with his shoulder sinking in a centimeter. “Your call.”

“Meaning what?” she pressed.

“Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“Well,” she said, beginning to slowly pace around the circumference of the room, not sure what he wanted or expected her to say, “I was assigned to the Human archaeological reclamation project, but now that's a moot point, so I guess I'm currently unassigned.”

“Good,” he said lightly, “because you're sticking with me. My attaché so to speak.”

“Are you making that official?”

“Just did,” he said, breaking into a smile when he sensed that she was pleased with the appointment. “I trust you, and right now you're my one and only friend.”

Ella raised an orange eyebrow. “What about Jalia?”

“Here,” Riax amended.

“So we're . . . close now?” Ella asked, only half teasing.

“When you kick a Human's ass, it's a bonding experience.”

Ella laughed loudly. “You are not what I expected when we found you in that pod.”

“Oh?”

“I thought you'd be powerful, wise, stoic, and elegant.”

Riax considered that. “And now?”

“Replace stoic with sarcastic and elegant with . . . attractive. I can see what draws Jalia to you, but unlike her I know that such feelings are impotent, though if you will take it as a compliment only, I will admit that I share some of them.”

Riax bowed slightly. “Compliment taken.”

“Though you don't really understand what either of us is referring to?”

“I think I do,” he said, probing her thoughts. “But then again that probably means I don't.”

“You mean a lot to Jalia. A lot more than to me, and I mean no disrespect there. Her feelings are young and undisciplined, which makes them all the stronger. She thinks there could be some form of relationship with you. I know better, but . . .”

“She's not as naïve as you think,” Riax finally interrupted. “But you're right. I'm not completely ignorant of such emotions. I can feel them in others, I just can't reciprocate. She understands that. She just doesn't care.”

“Are there any bonds you can form?”

Riax frowned. “Many. We are friends after all. That's not a term Humans throw around easily. Nor do I let very many ­people in my head.”

“You needed to,” Ella differed.

“I said I trust you, and I meant it. Don't underestimate the value there.”

“I don't. But even after being inside your head, I'm still trying to size you up and failing. You're so many different ­people all at the same time.”

Riax laughed. “No, you've just never been around Humans before. I've known Cres for a long time, which is why it's easy for me to get a read on you.”

“Still . . . if I may?”

“If I consider you a friend, never ask for permission again. Just tell me what you think whenever you like, no protocol or politeness required.”

“I get the feeling that you're still not yourself. That you're holding back and alternating between different personas as a shield.”

Riax glanced at the floor, considering that. “I wouldn't go that far, but I still have unfinished business with that remnant. Once it's gone and I can relax, then I'll probably find a lot of other things out of balance that can be corrected. I'm as much me now as I can manage,” he said apologetically.

“It wasn't a complaint, just an observation.”

Riax nodded, then pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “Come on. Time for some real food.”

I
T
TOOK
FIFTEEN
days for the jumpship to reach Illora, located in the unremarkable Sarne System. There was a single giant white star at system's center with three moonless planets in fairly close orbit. The inner two were barren, but inhabited nonetheless. The third and outermost world was Illora, which stood out in stark contrast to its rocky brothers. The planet was covered in a smattering of white clouds over blue ocean, with only a few specs of green land dotting the surface.

More visible were the hundred plus defense stations in orbit, each half the size of a jumpship and comprised mainly of weapons, shield generators, and energy cells. Spread out amongst the stations were numerous other orbital habitats ranging from refueling stations to full blown shipyards. Traffic around the planet was heavy, but organized into neat spacelanes.

The cruiser Riax was on was given clearance to bypass the traffic and head straight for the surface, leaving its numerous escorts behind where they joined with the system defense fleet. The elongated bluish/green cruiser darted into the atmosphere shields aglow as it dissipated speed in the nitrogen rich air. By the time it punctured the cloud layer it had slowed to a civilized crawl and steadily shed altitude until it was hovering just above the ocean's gentle waves.

From there it traveled over the surface until it reached a specific set of coordinates, then came to a stop and lowered down into the water. Several minutes later it was fully submerged and used its gravity drives in differentiation mode to gently maneuver about, pulling and pushing against semi-­lateral segments of the planet's mass for inefficient, yet reliable propulsion, the only available given that the plasma engines couldn't function underwater.

The cruiser continued to increase in depth until the surface spindles of an underwater structure seemingly rose up out of nowhere in the abnormally clear water. The cruiser docked at one of them and set its engines to station keeping, though the spindle itself was flexible enough to accommodate a wide range of accidental drift.

Ella and Riax debarked the cruiser and entered a small cupola atop the docking arm with several conduit ends visible. On the left was a standard liftcar hub with three closed doorways. In the center was a large flat liftpad for larger cargo transfers, and on the right was a clear pool of water deeper than he was tall next to a small opening on the floor with the water flowing out and down it.

“You want the slow way or the fast way?” Ella asked.

“Fast,” Riax said, walking over to the waterslide entrance and diving in head first. There was a significant slope for a dozen meters that he slid through neatly in the Cres bodysuit before the blue-­lighted tube he was in tilted down into a near vertical freefall.

Riax felt himself go almost weightless as he traveled down the length of the two kilometer long docking spindle and into the underwater Cres city with the transit tube flattening out into a long washout runoff. Riax rotated on his elbows so that he slid to a stop face up as several Cres looked down at him, then their eyes angled behind him. Riax sat up just in time to see Ella slide into him feet first.

“We don't usually go head first,” she said quizzically. “You've been down one before, haven't you?”

“Many times,” he declared as he stood up and stepped out of the half-­tube, reaching a hand back to pull Ella up with him. She quickly wrung her hair out and stepped in front.

“This way.”

Riax got wide-­eyed looks from hundreds of denizens ranging from curious to fawning as Ella led him down through the city's multiple levels, offering occasional information about the structure and world which wasn't so dissimilar to the Cres's original homeworld of Garagor. Most of the infrastructure was remarkably similar as well, which Ella attributed to their race attempting to recover what had been lost rather than delving into divergent research.