Crush circled back around, carefully navigating through the dense trees in her damaged hovercraft, her only company a single soldier with a damaged faceplate. She was hoping to pick up those who had fled the battle on foot when the Republic caught up with them.
The Collective soldier she was driving towards looked up and turned towards the oncoming Republic ATUC and opened fire, only to be gunned down with a perfectly placed shot right through his torso.
She stopped her craft, too big and slow for combat in the forest, and ducked behind it for cover while firing at the enemy. The Republic shot down the last two soldiers who were on foot, and turned their fire towards Crush. The hovercraft she hunkered behind was heavily damaged by the volley of fire, and soon crashed to the ground, its propulsion system destroyed.
"Let's take the fight to them," said Crush to the soldier who had been in the craft with her.
"Good luck," he said mockingly as he ran off into the woods, deserting her. Rage surged through her circuits. She shot him in the back and watched him fall.
She slinked off into the woods, shedding her bright red coat in hopes of blending into the environment better. True, she was covered in fairly reflective metal plating, but she hoped that would be less eye-catching than a flapping red flag.
The Republic had parked their ATUC and were investigating the hovercraft on foot. They were led by a Krauqian female who wore the detached, determined look of a hunter.
"I think we got them all," said a Dromean male.
"No," said the Krauqian. “That last shot came from over by their hovercraft."
Crush hid behind a wide tree, furious at her bad luck. In a just world, these flesh-covered fools would be afraid of her. The Collective, or something like it, would rule with literal iron fists, not just surviving on what scraps it could steal from others.
Footsteps grew closer and then halted.
"I don't know," said a voice. It was the hunter. Her voice sounded strangely distracted. "I just have a weird feeling that this isn't the way… I think it may have doubled back."
"Okay," said another voice, "you're the boss."
Crush waited until their footsteps faded and then darted from tree to tree, making her way to the rendezvous point, where the shuttle back to the fleet should be waiting.
***
Kwa-Kwa couldn't explain the strange foreboding she had felt, but she trusted her instincts. She had just led her scouts back to the ATUC when she felt the sensation of waking up, although she hadn’t been asleep. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Turn back around,” she said, shaking her head to clear out the latent effects of the influence she had been under. “We’ve got a psychic to find.”
***
Aboard the Reaper, Admiral Grim was shouting at the comm screen.
“Unacceptable!” he said. “You were supposed to take care of them in the sky, we would take care of them down below. Yet they slipped through your fingers and my soldiers were wiped off the face of the planet by an entire carrier-class ship!”
“Admiral,” replied Raelik from the screen, his voice infuriatingly serene. “Things do not always go to plan. I’ve never known you to be one to shy away from sacrificing troops to a good cause.”
“If I’d known this was going to be a sacrifice I wouldn’t have sent my second-in-command! I expected to win.”
“If you want the full payment I offered you, I will remind you that it was contingent on defeating the Republic to the Astralbian Kingdom’s content.”
“Between the two of us, my kind isn’t the one known for forgetting their promises.”
Raelik grinned. “Hurtful, Robot, hurtful. We can count on your continued assistance, then?”
Grim sighed. The money was good, too good to pass up. It was a shame about Crush, but she was a bit of a do-gooder, anyway. He looked up and locked eyes with the Astralbian lord. “So long as the money’s there, we’re in.”
“Good,” cooed Raelik. “I’ll be in touch.”
***
Aboard the grounded Wingspan, Jasken had held a meeting with Captains Hunt and Fenrik to discuss how to move forward, and was now presiding over a broader meeting that included Drixen, Talon Squad, chief engineer Dekken and comms officer Mairen.
“Our plan,” he began, “is to continue work on repairing the Wingspan while re-fortifying Fort Bog Iron. Our enemies have been stung but will no doubt regroup and attack again soon.
“The fact that our cannons are fully operational is a significant advantage; they won’t risk a full assault on our position lightly. They will likely be turning the field by the pit, where Shrump’s remains were discovered, into a staging ground. It is relatively nearby but out of the effective range of our guns, particularly given the geography between us.
“I want our engineering department focused on getting the Wingspan fully operational and generating a list of items needed.”
Dekken nodded his assent, already tapping away on his comms device.
“Comms,” continued Jasken. “I want you to work with engineering to diagnose the long-range communications system. That needs to be our priority, as Kerucester is unaware of our situation. Until I miss our weekly check in, which is scheduled for tomorrow, they will not notice anything is amiss. Secondly, I want you to continue trying to locate the Ferryman.”
“Good news on that front,” said Mairen. “Since our satellite system is up and running we are hopeful that we will be able to locate the landing or, providence forbid, crash site of the Ferryman. It appears to have gone dark comms-wise soon after being hit, but based on what we know about its trajectory it’s likely to have landed on the planet.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Excellent,” replied Jasken. “Drixen, I want you and your fighters ready to scramble at a moment’s notice. Even though we don’t expect an attack immediately, I want fighters airborne within moments of the first sign of trouble.”
“We’ll be ready,” said Drixen, his eyes icy with determination. “We’re itching for some payback.”
“Alright. Talon Squad, I want Reclan working with engineering, and Doc to keep working with the medical team. The rest of you stay close and help wherever you’re needed.”
Raivyn piped up, asking, “What about the fact that we have a traitor on board? There’s no way Traelby staged the entire sabotage mission from his cell.”
“Agreed,” nodded Jasken. “That’s being looked into.” His firm tone indicated clearly that this topic was not to be discussed further for the time being. Raivyn couldn’t help but look over at Drixen and his open, honest eyes.
“The last issue,” continued the Admiral, “is scouting the Astralbian base at the pit. A squad of scouts is already heading that direction, pursuing the retreating Collective soldiers. Captain Fenrik will be redirecting them to that location to report back to us as soon as possible. Dismissed.”
***
Meanwhile, in the nearby forest, Crush was still evading the hunter and her scouts on her way to the rendezvous point. The iron deposits in the swampy forest were disabling her personal comms and she couldn’t call for help or even let anyone know she was alive. She had managed to put some distance between herself and her enemies but they had doubled back and were hot on her trail.
If only they had been able to launch their attack from the Astralbians camp, she may have had a chance of getting there before being overtaken. But the Astralbians had recommended a different landing spot further away, for no clear reason beyond prejudice. At least that meant she’d be met by friendly faces when she got there.
She came to a wide stream. It was shallow enough to cross, but she was worried her pursuers would catch sight of her out in the open like that. She stepped into the water and then turned around, careful to step only on rocks as she made her way back into the treeline, hoping that the trackers would believe she crossed the river based on whatever tracks she had left.
She looked around for a place to hide and found a tree that had been hollowed by rot. She climbed up into it, and shimmied from the main trunk into the inside of a huge limb, the soft wood threatening to crumble and drop her to the ground at any moment.
Laying there still as death, she eventually heard the hunters approaching.
“Looks like she crossed here,” came a whispered voice. It was the Dromean.
“It certainly does look that way,” said the Krauqian, “but streams are a tracker’s nightmare. You cross over with the others, I want to stay here for a moment.”
Soft splashing footfalls indicated that the others had left. The frog-like hunter was silent as a tomb.
Crush had positioned herself so that she could see the main trunk of the tree and had her gun trained on it, but she couldn’t see anything else in the day’s dying light. There was a slight creaking sound that traveled through the wood of the rotten tree. The hunter was right below her now, she knew it.
A comm buzzed. Crush heard a sigh.
“Yes, Captain?” came the whispered voice from below. There was a pause.
“We’re pursuing one final soldier, I think they used a psychic attack on me earlier… But sir, I think it’s close… Yes. Understood.”
The scout stepped away from the tree, much less stealthy now.
“Okay,” she shouted to her comrades across the stream. “New mission. Unless you’ve found it over there, we’re heading back to the ATUC. I’ll fill you all in on the way.”
All pretense of stealth gone, the scouts stomped their way back through the woods the way they’d come. Crush felt a wave of relief, but thought she’d stay in the tree a while longer. While she sat there, she mulled over what the hunter had said. She hadn’t used any kind of psychic attack on her. Though it was extremely rare, some robots had mechanical means of generating T-wave attacks. Crush was not one of them. It was just a lie to shift blame, she supposed, but a strange one. She uneasily powered down for a rest cycle, preserving her energy for the morning, when she’d continue on towards the rendezvous point.
***
Making his rounds, Doc came back to Havvis, the soldier he’d talked to previously. He was a bit more coherent now.
“Oh, hey, Doc,” he said with a sheepish grin. “So, did I say anything real dumb last time you were here?”
Doc shook his head. “No, not at all. Just asked some questions about how Robots interpret pain.”
“That’s right,” he said with a nod.
“How are you feeling now?” asked Doc, ready to take notes.
“Oh, the pain’s worse, but I’ve got a clearer mind, but I prefer that,” said the sailor. “I believe we’re supposed to feel pain, at least in this life. That’s part of how the Progenitor made us, y’know?”
Doc paused. “Made you, I suppose.”
“Oh, I always figured he made Robots, too,” said Havvis. “Nothing’s an accident, and you’re as much a person as a biological or electromagnetic being, right? I figure that means the Progenitor meant for Robots to be made, so to speak.”
“I’m not too religious myself,” said Doc.
“Oh, okay,” said Havvis. “Not trying to make a nuisance of myself or anything.”
“I don’t feel nuisanced,” said Doc. “So I guess we’re alright.”
Havvis laughed. “I like you Doc. I wish more of these soppy doctors had your kind of bedside manner.”
Doc chuckled and moved on, tending to the next patient.
***
Jasken was extremely busy over the next few days. The fungal walls around the base were being rebuilt and refortified. An expanded fungal wall was also constructed to include the “airfield” where the Wingspan and the fighters were docked. Fenrik was focusing on revamping the EM shielding over the entire area, which would hopefully defend them against the enemy fleets in the case of a direct assault. The scouts had reported that the Astralbians were indeed using the pit as a mustering point, so an assault could come at a moment’s notice.
The ripmed drive was entirely out of commission, meaning long range communications and faster-than-light travel were nonstarters, pending a number of spare parts stored on the Ferryman. Unfortunately, the support ship hadn’t been located yet.
That left the matter of the saboteur, which Jasken had focused on as he allowed his officers and specialists to deal with their own areas of expertise. There was little evidence to follow up on and he had no leads.
As he pondered this in his quarters, there was a knock at the door.
“Professor Chim and her student here to see you, sir.” Jasken nodded grimly. Given that they were bunked in the lower portion of the ship’s main tower, the poor academics were closer to the explosion than most of the others onboard. Their quarters were not far from the electrical and utility areas. Grikchum had been found on the floor of his quarters, locked in as ordered, shaking like a leaf, one wall of his quarters collapsed in. Chim hid her fear behind indignation but was shook up almost as badly.
“Professor Chim. Grikchum. What can I do for you?”
“Well,” said the professor, her tone slightly accusatory, “so long as we are stuck here, we thought we might look at the cylinder.”
Jasken nodded, ignoring the implication that he was somehow at fault for their plight. He was glad to see some initiative on their part. Some might have given up and cowered in their rooms.
“Very well, you may utilize the table in my study, the cylinder is here,” he unlocked a desk drawer and handed Chim the puzzle box. He studied the two academics carefully.
“Before you go,” he said to them, “I wanted to ask you if you noticed anything strange leading up to the attack. I’m making sure I get statements from everyone. I’ll take yours now if you don’t mind.”
Chim paused thoughtfully, eventually saying, “I thought I heard some tools being used, small power tools or something, the night before the attack. I don’t travel often, so I assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary. It may have come from the crawlspace behind my room, possibly towards the wall I share with Grikchum.”
Grikchum frowned. “Come to think of it, I did hear some noise like that, but I would have said they came from the other direction, more towards the engine room.”
Jasken frowned, too. “Well, thank you. Every bit of information helps.”