Three days later, the afternoon sun baked the city around him. Saedah sat sideways atop the highest point of the wall; atop the bastion overlooking the north edge of the city, leaning against a crenellation with his right foot folded under his left knee. His left foot swung rhythmically, dragging at the stones of the wall's walk. He was dressed head to toe in baggy red cloth lined with pockets for herb packs. That was the only thing covering his horrendous body odor. Nearly three weeks of simple cloth baths left a lot to be desired. What he wouldn't give for a bar of REAL soap. Not their home-made lye-heavy, irritating little bars. His skin literally burned when he used it.
Another span of cloth wrapped his head and protected it from the wrath of the sun. The end of the fabric that was meant to cover his face, all but his eyes, hung limply down his shoulder and chest on his right. The three layers of shirts were tucked into baggy pants with a robe to cover it all. The wide fabric belt that tied the robe hung low. Absentmindedly, he twisted one end into a roll and let it unwind repeatedly.
His mind was consumed with calculating the numbers of ground forces camped outside the wall. Calculating the amount of ammunition to keep the anti-aircraft artillery stations stocked. Calculating how long it would take for backup to arrive, for both the Triad and the Phaens. Calculating their odds of survival. Calculating how best to reach the man in charge.
To his right, to the north, outside the wall, stood row upon row of sturdy white tents. The pristine white stood stark against the red of Phaenna. To his left, the city of Coalshed sprawled southward. Thousands of people called it home. Thousands of people who were ready to fight for their livelihoods under his banner, so to speak. The fool Phaens had somehow contrived to create a banner for their small army. A silver fist circled in a white strand of barbed wire stood raised against a red background. Their old flag had been red with the circle of barbed wire.
They'd modified the old one with nothing less than his most discernible feature: his metal fist. It was foolish.
The flags had been hung on nearly every wall and door. One over zealous woman had even painted the one on the back of his robe while he'd been in the steam baths. It was a bath in name only. The rooms were built around steam vents, which allowed one to bathe in one's own sweat. The perk to it was the privacy, and the ability to use clean cloths to wipe with, and condensed water in a trough to soak those cloths in. Honestly, it was more a glorified sponge bath. Many of the leaders of the 'army' had painted the symbol onto their own robes shortly after Saedah's clothes had been vandalized. Even Nyx, Troache, and Nala bore the flag. Though Nyx wore hers more to mock him than anything else.
It took effort to turn his thoughts back to the present. Back to what was needed.
The sun ahead of him, low on the western horizon, was slowly falling below the mountain range bordering the city on three sides. The women and children, along with those too feeble to fight, had been evacuated through the tunnels into the mountains to the east. Coalshed's twin city, Shadehaven, were amassing an army in the mountains to the west, moving to flank the Triad ground troops from the north.
Troache had spent the day checking the fleet of air-worthy vehicles and fitting them with weapons. Nala had rationed the weapons and ammunition. Nyx had instructed the weapons crash-course. Most on Phaenna had grown up with a weapon in one hand and a slippery grip on life in the other. The crash course was mostly to keep the hotheads from killing friend and foe alike.
"Ready?" Nyx asked from beside him, topping the ladder and moving to gaze out at the enemy. The strong odor of Finis Aloe wafted over him in the lazy breeze. The sturdy vine-like plants grew in abundance in and around the city. The vines coated many of the walls of homes and had to be cut away regularly. The vines latched on with tendrils that bore deep into rock and weakened structures. Their hard vines hid a thick and plentiful goo that was a natural moisturizer and sunblock. While it grew poisonous gourds, the extracted fluid from the vines was very similar to Gaean Aloe.
She'd repeatedly declined his offers of medical aid, opting to wait for rescue and a proper examination. The fact that the aloe was a natural coating, rather than manufactured stimulants, appealed to her. Being Pteroisian, there was a risk that she would have an adverse reaction to his supply. Saedah suspected she did not trust him to not make a mistake. He chose not to take it personally. Too much, anyway.
"Should we be this exposed?" Nala moved to her side and noted the enemy's number had grown since last she counted. The two were discernible only by the narrow view of their eyes. They wore similar clothing to Vorn's, but their veils were pinned up. Troache was peering over the ladder, keeping his bulk out of the line of view. It was hard to hide his size, especially with the baggy clothing.
"I was able to get a short burst out, but there's no telling if they got it." Troach whispered as Saedah followed him down the ladder. He'd followed Saedah's instructions on infiltrating the Triad's network and sending a beacon out to the Ghosts. Since their escape wagon had been confiscated and dismantled, they needed help ASAP.
Saedah wouldn't talk about it. Voicing it made it seem too much like they were trapped. And he would be damned if he would be trapped again. If he had to go down, he was going to take the head of the snake with him. He checked the pockets of his sleeves again, just to make sure that the powder was still there. Each of the others would have packets just like his.
This was phase one. The first step of many. The success of this step would make or break the next.
Saedah looked once more to the western sky. It was time.
"I think we're as ready as we'll ever be." He dropped from his perch and took a deep breath. "Let's go do something stupid."
"You got it, Lucky." Troache teased, smacking his small friend on the back.
In the cover of darkness, just before the worst of the night weather could begin, the four split into two teams. Nyx, at the mercy of her intolerance of the planet's dry atmosphere, took position along a ridge. The pungent smell of her ointments alone would likely have been enough to warn the enemy. She lay prone with her billowing yards of cloth tied tightly around her, looking like nothing more than another clod of dirt. The moon was large, full, and bright in the sky, adding another level of difficulty to the mission. They could have used more darkness.
Her rifle was snug against her shoulder, safety on, finger resting alongside the trigger. She was looking through the scope, checking sentries to verify that her team had not been discovered on the approach, before returning to monitor Saedah. She was to watch him for the signal and then start a scene.
This would all be so much easier if it hadn't been for the broken com and her lack of service. Saedah refused to trust any of the communication devices from the natives, though, and he considered Troach and Nala's Kitty-less and possibly compromised coms just as bad of an option. Even if he had the resources to hack through the default security systems and install his own security features, it was a risk Saedah was not willing to take. Having to go by verbal or visual reference and line of sight was like stepping back in time and it was driving her crazy. Saedah hardly seemed phased by it, though.
They reached the line of tents, sticking to the shadows cast by the lanterns lighting the interior of the camp. Despite the itch to check on Nala, Nyx stayed focused on Saedah. She watched as he noted their positions. He looked left and nodded. He looked right and nodded, then held up three fingers. One by one, he tucked the fingers. With the last finger, he pointed to the north.
She swung the rifle, targeted the generators, flipped the safety off, and let loose a volley of incendiary rounds. The explosion threw fire much further and more violently than she had anticipated. Faintly, she wondered if the troops had taken to using gas-fueled generators over the solar generators. She hadn't cared to check for solar panels. Regardless of which type of generators they were, flaming debris was raining down and landing atop many of the heavy-duty insulated tents. Even with the flame retardant material, patches of tent were melting and catching fire. A cry went up almost immediately, though the blast had woken nearly everyone in the camp.
"It's all on you guys now." Nyx whispered, watching as people streamed from the large tents. Soon the north end of the camp was teeming with people running with extinguishers and building barricades from expected enemies.
She broke the gun down and packed it away, except for the scope. With the scope, she watched her team dart into tents, throw on Triad uniform pieces, and run to water storages. There were three tanks of potable water. Quickly, they each dropped a small packet the size of a teabag and melted into the darkness again.
"Smutching hells, but it actually worked." Saedah sighed, sliding down the stone wall once the whole group had made it back within the confines of the city. "Fuck." He ran his hands through his hair and chuckled. The sound was slightly hysterical. "I can't believe that worked."
"Yeah, boy." Troache said through chattering teeth. "You got the Darkspinner's own silk in your pocket or something? That luck of yours is something else!" He rubbed furiously at his arms for warmth as he huddled against the wall.
"I don't think it could have worked out any better." Nala looked at Nyx, "That explosion was bigger than we expected." She grinned, plucking at the uniform she had thrown on. It was huge on her. Troache winced. He hadn't been lucky enough to find a uniform in his size. He was pantless, standing in just his undies, shivering in the cold. The jacket he had managed to squeeze into was more a vest than a jacket. The seams along the shoulders had ripped, leaving the sleeves to pool around wrists, and he couldn't close the jacket around his chest. Nyx wasn't sure if it was his bulk or the haste that had ripped it, but he looked ridiculous. In the chaos, though, he had looked just like one of the many others that had been tossed out of a deep sleep into the night.
"Get inside, man." Saedah said through a yawn. "We all need some sleep, and no one needs to see that. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Saedah woke the next morning well before most were up. From the team's small apartment on the north-western part of the city, Saedah walked onto a balcony. The horizon before him, to the east, was lightening. Other than the few visible men making rounds on watch, the city was silent. The dull pre-dawn backlighting the mountains slowly grew in intensity as he made his way to the bastion.
He was sorry that the quiet would not last. Quiet was such a rare commodity.
He topped the bastion, nodding to the man on duty, and looked over the soot-stained tents. The few on the far end had burned drastically. The supports stood with tatters hanging from the sections that had burned, like the chests of giant decaying beasts.
There did not appear to be much activity within the camp.
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"It's still early, yet." Saedah whispered. When the Phaen grunted, leaning over the wall to check that no one had approached, Saedah realized he'd spoken aloud. Saedah turned, met the man's gray eyes, and went to prepare.
The anti-aircraft turrets were spewing munition in staggering quantities.
The north wall was pocked with marks of grenade damage. Some of the crenellations were toppled, creating great gaps of exposure to those atop the bastion and along the wall. A hole, large enough that men were dispatched to defend it, had formed along the ground level wall.
The attacking soldiers were stumbling and spewing stomach contents as they fired on the Phaens. The weakened enemy was pressed on two sides as the force from the west joined the fray. The aerial battle was more one-sided, with the enemy having superior weapons. But Saedah and his team were not in the city, or with those from the west.
The army of four burst from the east and tore through the camp faster than the Triad could react, cutting the soldiers off from the command tent. They set more fires and destroyed everything they came across on their way. Saedah never would have set camp just outside the gate. He and his men would have attacked from an angle that gave the Phaens no chance of retaliation. He would have set a battalion of ships in their hangar lot, seized their ships and occupied their city. He would have taken all hope from them. He had no idea what this man was thinking, sitting at the front gate like some medieval invader without the means to destroy such an ill-developed people.
The march through the camp was short. Less than twelve were dead in their wake. Most of the camp was burning at their backs as Saedah entered the large command tent.
The smell of bile assaulted Saedah first, made all the more potent through the Calm. The three men at the console were pale and leaning heavily against it to keep them upright. They didn't even try to raise their guns. Looking down the twin barrels of Saedah's large weapon, they knew it would be a bad idea. The closest man turned and retched into a bucket by his feet.
"Give the signal to surrender." Saedah said cooly, removing the cloth from his face.
"You." The elder of the three said is a warbling, juicy voice.
"Me." Saedah swung the barrels to him. The other two were looking to him for guidance, so it only reasoned this was the one in charge. Saedah cocked the gun and began to count. "Three. Two-"
"Give the signal!" The old man barked, any remaining color fading from his face, then repeated the command with more dignity. "Give the signal." The one to the left, the only person who did not seem completely affected by the poisoned water, pressed a series of buttons and the sound of battle outside lessened. The chorus of Phaens cheers was deafening.
"Good choice." Saedah whistled and Nyx, Nala, and Troache entered, binding the two younger men. The older man held his hands up and stared at the con. Saedah snagged him by the collar and drug him to a corner, planting him in a folding chair. Nyx nodded to Saedah as she held her gun against the man's temple.
The three were bound in different corners, facing the canvas, as Saedah rummaged through the con.
The amount of information this thing held was staggering.
"Your people should really think about security more." Saedah admonished, accessing a database with less than adequate security measures. A simple query listed tables. More specific queries pulled information Saedah would have sacrificed his very life to acquire. And it was all at his fingertips. He began dumping as much as he could into drives.
One after another, drive on drive of Triad data was pulled from the machine. It was all an astounding amount of data. They'd managed to find six drives in the tent. All six drives were already full and tucked into his pockets, but he wanted it all. He wished he could be sure he could get it all to Kitty. He wanted to get it to the Ghosts and the Conclave generals. Some of that data needed to be broadcast to every device in the galaxy.
His eagerness and excitement cost him though.
A shockwave hit him as the back of the tent exploded in a wall of dirt and debris. Distantly, he heard a scream. He opened his eyes to see cloth-bound feet and dirt below him, moving quickly. It took a moment to realize Troache had tossed Saedah over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Moving his head, Saedah could see the voluminous clothes streaming behind Nyx, with the head-wrapping gone, and who could only be Nala, with one cloth shoe missing. Both were clutching white office binders. A number of Phaens ran with them.
Troache turned, dropping Saedah like a rucksack as he open fired on their pursuers. The ships, of course, would be unaffected by small-caliber weapons. But Troache hadn't fired a regular small-caliber gun. Troache was Baultoni. Troache's rifle was a weapon modified just for him, and it fired armor-piercing rounds. A ship careened, taking another with it into the earth.
Four more ships remained, firing on the fleeing Phaens. This was more like the Triad he knew.
Saedah scrambled to his knees, reaching for Troache's belt. The man staggered back at just the right moment for Saedah's finger to close around the bandolier of grenades. It tore free with a surprised grunt from big man. He looked over his shoulder at Saedah then dove out of the way.
Saedah stood with inhuman grace, bandolier in his right hand, armed grenade in the prosthetic. With more power than his biological arm ever provided, he launched grenade after grenade into the air. With Troach still firing on the ships.
When Saedah reached for yet another grenade only to find nothing but pins on a piece of fabric, he looked up. The ships were on fire and trying to land anywhere that wasn't surrounded by pissed-off Phaens. Attempting to turn and retreat, but unable to gain altitude, one crashed into the rocky side of a mountain's cliff face. Two others crashed on the other side of the ridge, in the direction of the base. The fourth, emitting a billowing cloud of smoke, flew straight at them.
Pure survival instinct fueled his muscles and pumped his legs, propelling him forward at a breakneck pace. When the horrifying sounds of rending metal, earth, and ruined engines stopped, followed by the clearing of smoke and dust, he analyzed the situation. His forces were scattered to the wind, and the best part? More ships were coming.
He could see Phaen ships in formation with Triad ships. Saedah could assume that the enemy had their positions marked. It no longer mattered what happened to anyone in that dry, windswept expanse of barren desert. The six drives in his pocket were all that mattered. He would die trying to get those drives into Conclave hands.
As he turned to run into the cave systems, he spotted a brilliant white square. That had been what Nyx or Nala had been carrying.
Then he saw the red marble of Nyx's hair as she darted in for it, not fifty yards from his position. The sense of relief that swept over him was one he would have to revisit at a later date. Not far from Nyx, Nala was braced against the kick of her weapon, face morphed into a vicious snarl with her ears laid back, firing on ground troops pouring out from the caves along the mountains. The same caves he was just about to run into.
There wasn't anywhere left to go.
But for Cave Home.
Saedah ran to them and lifted the huge gun Troache had dropped. This would make them regret the day they were born. He sprayed large-caliber pain into the oncoming troops. Unfortunately, they returned in kind. He took a bullet to the arm and staggered back.
"Get to cover, damnit!" He saw Nyx lift another gun from the sand. The flair gun dwarfed her hands. It was another of baultoni make and not designed for her smaller body. It had to be another of Troache's dropped goodies. Was the giant numskull treating this like a dark-dammed parade, just tossing guns around like candy? He looked around and found the male separated by the whole of the battlefield, surrounded by enemy uniforms.
The tall mountain of a man was being overpowered by sheer numbers, subdued. The enemy had made an obvious effort to subdue the Baultoni, while they were killing everyone else in droves. Had Saedah sacrificed these people in a greedy attempt to save his own hide?
He felt absolutely useless as he watched the clearish yellow liquid ooze from between the plates of his arm, mingling with his own red blood to drip onto dry, churned earth and shell casings. He kept a steady stream of fire on their enemies, trying to back the remainder of his people to cover. It would be a blessing if that cover came with a secure exit.
Looking over his shoulder, he noted Nyx still tinkering with the flare gun. If he could get a break, he would trade places with Nyx and set off the flare. But Nyx couldn't fire the beast of a rifle and take the recoil. Unfortunately, it was the same with the flare gun. She was just too blasted small!
Suns and Darkness, if I get out of this, I will go to confession and attend Observance. Praying hadn't worked out yet, but maybe bargaining with the higher powers would. Please.
Then over the deafening thunder of enemy fire, he heard the sound of the flare gun going off behind him, a metallic crack, and a grunt of pain. He turned his head to see Nyx kneeling with one hand on the charred red-black earth, curled with her knees to her chest, with the other hand obscured by her dried and cracked fronds. above, the green glow of the flare drifted lazily back to the earth.
A tracer screamed and corkscrewed through the air to explode against the shale shelf behind and above their position, showering them in rock and dirt. It created one hell of a red cloud. He pulled the triggers again, showering the enemy with exploding rounds. He was able to see enough that when he turned again to face Nyx, there was a new sheen of red reflecting wetly in a cascade down her forehead.
She carried her right hand tucked against her stomach as she picked up the smoking flare gun. Stumbling, she struggled for higher ground. When Nyx lifted her head, there was a nasty gash on her brow and the beginnings of a massively impressive black eye.
She probably cracked the bone, he thought. Thoughts of what a concussion would mean for her, right then, ripped through his head. Now's not the time. Safety. We need safety to regroup.
Nyx chose that moment to crash to her knees and retch. Saedah quickly turned his attention back to the dwindling ammo and the oncoming enemy line.
"To Cave Home!" He yelled, catching her attention. The two spun and Saedah snagged Nala on his way past. She was still pouring bullets into enemies lining the ridge. Together, they fled.
He was tired of running.
He was tired of always fighting an uphill battle.
A grounder flying a banner of the silver fist roared as it caught air, speeding over a dune. It crashed down in a spray of sand and rock to skid to a stop. Yet once more that day, Saedah was sprayed with earthy debris.
Tamas of all people opened the door. "Get in!".
"What the blasted suns are you doing here?!" Saedah yelled, piling into the revving vehicle with the others in tow.
"Trying to keep you alive. Consider it a fair trade!" The voice was deeper than the boy Saedah had left in Cave Home. Looking closely, the 'boy' was more a man. He was at least in his early twenties.
"Who are you?" Saedah yelled over the noise of the grounder as it ate ground at a high and unsafe speed. It wasn't headed to Cave Home, but to the canyons.
"A friend of a friend. When you leave this planet, you take those boys with you!" The man yelled back.
"You mean if!" Nyx yelled. There wasn't a lot of hope for any of them.
"When!" The man called back. "You just have to live long enough!"
Saedah realized that the man was holding his waist with one hand. The other gripped the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. When he glanced over and saw Saedah's calculating gaze, he raised a bloody hand from the wound and waved his fingers, smiling unabashedly. The deep red of his robe was notably darker there, glistening in the sunlight.
"I'm dropping you off at the canyon, then drawing them away." He coughed, splattering his lip and controls with blood. He was holding himself together admirably for someone who knew he was going to die. A loud crunch followed the crumpling of the cab roof. Plans had just changed, per usual. "Smutching hells and Darkness incarnate, what now!?" The man screamed at the windshield.
A ship dropped, again attempting to clamp onto the grounder. The cab crumpled further into the cramped vehicle. The sudden, uneven weight turned the car, nearly rolling it as the passenger-side track left the ground. For one desperate, terrifying moment, everything slowed and Saedah was sure they would flip. Then the man jerked the controls and metal tore, crashing them back to both tracks. The grounder quickly picked up speed again, weaving to avoid the reaching clamp. The ship roared overhead, lining up for another attempt.
"Damned sun-sick shade thieves!" He yelled, pulling at the controls. The grounder turned sharply toward a narrow ravine between two skyward rock formations. The passage ahead was narrow, flanked by tall cliffs to either side. The grounder was wide.
"What are you doing?" Saedah screamed. This was exactly why he never let anyone else drive. "We won't fit, you idiot!"
The ship above swooped in. Almost in the same instant that the clamp made contact, the grounder jerked to the right. Saedah, however, watched the grounder speed away.