Short Stories

Conquerors

This story has the distinction as the only story to date that I have submitted to a publisher.  I entered it in the annual L. Ron Hubbard's Writers of the Future sci-fi/fantasy contest.  I didn't win.  A big reason for that is because this story was one or two edits away from being ready to publish.  I wrote it in 2004, and the underlying political stance of the story is in no ways subtle.  A note about Lt. Waldie: I had a friend named Renee Waldie who requested that I write her into one of my stories.  This is what she got.

            Apo sat alone at a table by the window of the restaurant.  He was nursing a drink and staring out at the bleak landscape.  The restaurant was full of other soldiers, but none sat with him.  He had never fit in with them.  They were all enthusiastic military people who enjoyed their work.  Apo, on the other hand, had only joined the army out of a sense of family duty.  Being the great-grandson of the legendary Maupay Ngatawo came with a lot of pressure to follow in the family footsteps.  What else could Apo have done with his life without being shunned by his father?

            Sighing, Apo turned from the window and looked at his drink.  He swirled it around in his glass, thought about taking a sip, but ended up putting it down again and looking out the window at the gray, cloudless sky.  It was late in the evening, and the sun was setting with a depressing lack of flourish.  Apo hated the planet Wa’y.  He longed to return home to Samyte-Lira.  He wanted to sit on the shores of Kalayo and watch the sun set over the Maasin Ocean; the sun he grew up under, not this pale, harsh sun he was orbiting now.  Wa’y wasn’t home.  Wa’y was a barren, lifeless ball of rock in an obscure solar system on the edge of the borders of Liran space.  Samyte-Lira was 40 light-years away.  The only reason the small colony existed here was for the rich deposits of gahum they mined.  The army was here for two reasons.  One was to guard the gahum mines.  Gahum was important to Lirans and most other races in the galaxy.  It was clean, efficient fuel.

            The other reason for a strong military presence on Wa’y was to be the first line of defense in case their nearest neighbor ever attacked, which was a distinct possibility.

            Samyte-Lira was located in space between two warring factions.  The aggressor in the war was the most feared empire in the history of the known galaxy.  In only two centuries, they had spread from their home world hundreds of light years away to the borders of Liran space.  The empire was now spread over more than a hundred solar systems, and was trying to expand its territory even further.  That’s where the other faction in the war steps in.  A group of planets had formed an alliance to defend against the conquering empire.  This alliance was formed by a race called the Sili.  Samyte-Lira opted not to join the Sili Alliance because they were still sore from the Sili invasion during the war that made Apo’s great-grandfather famous.

            Apo heard the footsteps approaching, but he didn’t turn to see who it was until the person spoke.  “Performer Ngatawo?” a female voice said.  Apo turned to face his visitor.

            “Coordinator Atee,” Apo said.  He stood up and saluted her.

            “Have a seat, Performer,” Atee said as she sat across from him.  Apo returned to his seat.  He wasn’t sure what to make of this visit from his commanding officer.  “Drink?” he asked.

            “Sure,” Atee said.  She pressed a button on the table dispenser and her drink was poured into a glass, which she grabbed and took a swallow from.

            “What can I do for you, Coordinator?” Apo asked.

            “We need to talk,” Atee said.  Apo nodded and waited for her to continue.  “You don’t like it here on Wa’y, do you?”

            “No,” Apo said.  “Does anybody?”

            Atee smiled.  “No, I don’t suppose anyone does,” she said.  “But you’re different, Ngatawo.  You don’t seem to have any friends.  A soldier could go crazy on this rock without friends.”

            “I’m fine,” Apo said.  “I have work to keep me occupied.”

            “Work!” Atee laughed.  “We just do mindless busy work here.  The colony is a handful of technicians to keep the mines running smoothly, and their families.  There’s no peace to keep.  All we do are drills and maintenance on our weapons and vehicles.  If it wasn’t for the Pinks and Browns, we wouldn’t even be here.  How can such menial work keep you occupied?”

            Apo looked down at his drink and shrugged.  “I’m fine,” he said.

            “Do you have a problem with the other soldiers?”

            “No.”

            “Are you just shy?”

            “No.  I just—I don’t feel that I fit in.  The other guys are great, I just don’t seem to have much in common with them.”

            “You’re a soldier,” Atee said.  “That’s a big thing that you have in common with them.”

            “Sir, has there been a problem with my performance under your command?”

            “No.  You’re a good soldier.  Your father would be proud.”

            “I’m sure he is,” Apo muttered.

            “I’m just concerned about the well-being of one of my 2^nd Level Performers,” Atee said.  “I don’t want you cracking under any pressure that may come up.”

            “I appreciate your—“

            An explosion shook the restaurant.  Every soldier there, including Apo, was on his or her feet immediately and running for the door.  They looked to the east and saw the hangar at their base in flames.

            “How?” was all Atee managed to say before a loud speaker ordered all military personnel to prepare for action.

            Apo’s stomach dropped as he sprinted towards the base; this would be his first actual combat situation.  It could only be one possible enemy attacking them here on Wa’y.

            A large craft streaked over them.  It was moving too fast to identify, but it didn’t sound Liran.

            “Must’ve been a bomber!” Atee was saying as she led them to the armory.  “It took out the hangar.  We can’t send any planes up after it.”

            A surface-to-air cannon fired somewhere behind them.  Apo looked over his shoulder and saw the bomber fly by and fire on it.  The cannon erupted in a geyser of flame and twisted metal.  The bomber then stopped and turned, and Apo was able to see the insignia of the Empire of Earth on its side.

            The Humans were attacking.

*   *   *

            An alarm bleated three times from the console on High Commander Kuya Lalaki’s desk, followed by the computer’s voice saying, “Communication from Strategist Mamatay, Wa’y Gahum Mines.  Priority status Red-1.”

            Lalaki’s heart skipped a beat.  Red-1 status was the highest level of emergency.  And Wa’y was located on the border between Liran and Earth space.  Despite the flutter in his heart, Lalaki’s mind didn’t skip a beat.  He dropped the budget he had been reviewing and pressed the receive button on his console.  Strategist Mamatay’s stony face appeared on a screen.  He seemed calm, but there was defeat in his eyes.  The picture was intermittently scrambled by static.

            “Report,” Lalaki said, but he could guess what Mamatay’s report would be.

            “Earth broke the treaty,” Mamatay said.  “We’re under attack.”

            “Never trust a Human,” Lalaki said.  “How are you holding up?”

            “We’re not holding up,” Mamatay said.  “They somehow snuck past our defense satellites and took out all of our hangars worldwide simultaneously.  We have no fighters, and the infantry is being slaughtered from the air.  We’ve fallen back into bunkers.  The bases are burning rubble above us, and it’ll only be a matter of minutes before they have Wa’y under their control.”

            “Why wasn’t I informed of this when they first attacked?” Lalaki said.

            “You were,” Mamatay said.  “The first bombs dropped about one minute ago.”

            Lalaki was stunned.  Their first line of defense had been smashed beyond salvage in one minute?  He had to struggle to keep the shock and horror off of his face.  “Do you have any defensive capabilities left?” he asked.

            “Only a few individual soldiers scattered about with no one to coordinate them,” Mamatay said as he checked statistics as they came to his own console.  “All fighters have been destroyed, all surface-to-air guns have been destroyed, and our defensive satellites have been cut off from our control.”

            “Evacuate,” Lalaki ordered.  Evacuation crafts were kept in small underground hangars near the bunkers.  Wa’y was already lost.  The top priority now was to salvage as much life as possible.  “Round up as many people as possible, and get out of—“

            The screen went blank.  The words “SIGNAL LOST” flashed red on the black screen.  Lalaki punched a button to clear it and then fingered the intercom switch.  “Did Chairman Kasama receive this transmission?” he asked his aide.  Whenever the leader of the military received a Priority Red-3 or higher transmission, the leader of the government received the same message and listened in on the exchange.

            “Yes, sir,” Lalaki’s aide said.  “He has called an emergency session of the Council.”

            “Notify all Central Strategists immediately that we’re having an emergency meeting of our own 20 minutes from now,” Lalaki ordered.  He released the intercom switch and punched a code into his console that would put him in contact with all Strategists on the six planets in close proximity to the Earth-Liran border.  The screen split into six segments as six Strategists answered his call, which had been Priority Red-2.

            “Gentlemen,” Lalaki said, “This is High Commander Kuya Lalaki, 485738-001.  Approximately five minutes ago, the Empire of Earth launched a surprise attack on the planet Wa’y.  As far as we can tell, they have already defeated our forces there.  I received a communiqué from Strategist Mamatay, which I will forward to you for your review.  The Humans have obviously broken our peace treaty, and they seem to be intent on adding our little patch of space to their long list of conquests.  Wa’y is a major loss.  We had a lot of good people there, and the Wa’y gahum mines supply 30% of our gahum.  We can’t afford to lose any more territory.  Put your defenses on full alert.  Human bombers slipped undetected past Wa’y’s defense satellites, so keep a sharp lookout.  I will shortly meet with Central Command to further discuss what will be done to defend ourselves.  Lalaki out.”

            Commander Lalaki stood up and switched off his console.  He left his office and entered the reception area.  His aide faced him and awaited orders.  “Send a Red-3 message to the Strategists of all colonies and provinces informing them of the attack,” Lalaki said, “and tell them to be on a alert.  The Humans could attack anywhere next.”

            “Yes, sir,” the aide said.  Under his breath, he muttered, “Damn Pinks and Browns.”

            “Is the Chairman going to announce this to the public?” Lalaki asked.

            “He’s preparing a statement as we speak.”

            “Good.  I’ll be in the main conference room.”

*   *   *

            Apo climbed out from beneath a pile of debris that had, until recently, been the armory.  He checked his watch and saw that he had only been unconscious for about 15 minutes, but it seemed the battle was already over.  Battle?  No, Apo realized, this hadn’t been a battle; it had been a massacre.  Bloody Liran bodies were strewn around the ruined base.  Not one fallen Human soldier or downed Earth craft mingled with Apo’s dead peers.

            Ironically enough, the Earth bomber had saved Apo’s life when it destroyed the armory.  The debris that had knocked him unconscious had also hidden him from the Earth fighters that had picked off Liran ground troops.

            Apo couldn’t believe how fast if had happened.  As his off-duty unit had sprinted for the armory, the on-duty soldiers had scrambled to get in a defensive position.  Unfortunately, infantry isn’t an effective defense against an air strike.  The bombers, which had quickly been joined by a wave of fighters, didn’t seem to be effected by the energy pulses from the rifles.  But, since the hangar was a smoking crater, and the surface-to-air canons were in flames, the infantry was all the defense the base had.

            Apo had been 30 feet away from the armory when the bomber hit it.  Most of his unit had already been inside, and he assumed they had been killed in the blast.  Now, he searched through the rubble around him in case someone else had lucked out as he had.  His head ached, his ribs were sore, and his left knee hurt, but it wasn’t serious enough to hinder him significantly.

            When he bent over to move a chunk of concrete, a few drops of blood dripped from his temple onto the dusty ground.  It was a striking contrast: the dark green blood on the pale gray ground.  He put his fingers to the side of his head and felt a superficial cut.  He dismissed it and returned to his search for survivors.

            The search—which was fruitless—only lasted for five minutes before he heard the low drone of an engine in the distance.  Apo looked up and saw the sun reflect off of a speck descending out of the sky above him.  It was still pretty high, but it was approaching fast.  Apo guessed it would touch down in two minutes at most.  He didn’t delude himself with hopes of reinforcements or a rescue team.  This had been a routine Earth assault.  The first step of a routine Earth attack was to wipe out the military presence in the area; the second step was to subdue civilians.

            The descending craft was a Human troop transport.

            Ignoring the objections of his left knee, Apo sprinted for his nearest dead comrade.  An undamaged rifle lay on the ground beside him.  Apo snatched it up.  He also removed the fallen soldier’s belt, which was equipped with six grenades, three spare power packs for the rifle, a flashlight, and a knife.  Not bothering to take the time to fasten the belt around his waist, Apo ran for the restaurant he had been at earlier.  It was the closest place he could see to take cover.

            As he dashed down the road connecting the base to the settlement—a distance of about 400 meters—the transport ship grew louder.  Apo wondered if they would spot him before he reached cover.  Or had they already spotted him?  There was no way to tell, so he just kept running.

            The transport set down halfway between the base and settlement just as Apo ran through the front door of the restaurant.  There’s no way they didn’t see me, Apo thought.  He wouldn’t be safe here.

            The manager of the restaurant stood at the window gawking as the Humans poured out of the ship.  “Hide!” Apo said.  He glanced out the window.  There were about 40 Human soldiers making their way from the transport to the settlement.  Another 20 or so were headed for the base.  One human in particular was pointing out the restaurant to another human.  The second soldier aimed a rocket launcher in Apo’s direction.

            “Come on!” Apo said to the manager, who still hadn’t moved.  “Out!”  Apo grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him through the kitchen door.  It was an automated kitchen, so there was no staff to worry about.

            Apo and the manager made if halfway across the kitchen before the dining room exploded.  Apo barely kept his balance, and the manager stumbled to his knees.  The door they had just passed through narrowly missed them as it flew across the room.

            “Keep moving!” Apo yelled above the sound of flames and the ringing in his ears.  He dragged the manager along with him.  When the Humans saw that the restaurant was still partially standing, they would fire another rocket.  Humans were thorough when it came to destruction.

            Apo slammed through the back door.  He only took three steps before another explosion from behind him sent him sprawling face first into the dust.  Singed and a little winded, Apo scrambled to his feet, picked up his rifle and belt, and ran on.  The manager was unconscious, so Apo was forced to leave him.  A small house was behind the restaurant.  Apo ran behind it.

            Apo would have liked to save the people in the settlement, but one man didn’t stand a chance against 40 Human soldiers.  Not in a flat-out fight, anyway.  He needed a plan.  But first, he needed to escape.

            If the colonists didn’t resist too much, they would be taken prisoner instead of killed.  Being a soldier, Apo would be killed on sight.  The burning restaurant behind him was evidence of that.

            “Attention civilians,” an amplified voice said from the transport ship.  It was a Human voice, but it was speaking Liran.  Either they had someone who spoke Liran, or they were using a translator.  Apo guessed the latter.  “This planet is now the property of the Empire of Earth.  If you cooperate, you will not be harmed.  There is a Liran soldier loose in the settlement.  If you assist him, you will be punished.  This campaign is sponsored by Airglide Sportswear, Ltd.”

            Apo had no idea what that last part meant.  What was Airglide Sportswear Limited?  He didn’t waste time trying to figure it out.  He could hear Human soldiers in the street, and they were no doubt coming around the burning restaurant from both sides.

            There was a library next door to the house.  The main entrance faced the street, which would be in plain view of his enemy.  He dashed to the back of the library where there was a service entrance.  Maybe he could hide long enough to think up a plan.

*  *  *

            “My fellow Humans, today is a proud day for the Empire of Earth.  Our troops have won a great victory over a dangerous alien species that has threatened our way of life.  Our brave soldiers this morning occupied the planet Wa’y, a colony of Samyte-Lira.  On this planet, the Liran government had been hording supplies of gahum, which they had agreed to freely trade with us.  Because of their refusal to supply us with fuel, gahum prices across the Empire inflated.

            “But Liran greed didn’t stop at gahum.  Advanced intelligence showed that Wa’y was being set up as a jumping-off point for an invasion into our space.”

            “What!” Lalaki yelled.

            “Listen, there’s more,” Chairman Kasama said.

            “Samyte-Lira has broken their treaty with us and allied themselves with the Sili Alliance.  Therefore, today, in an effort to make Humans safer, the good people at Airglide Sportswear, Ltd sponsored a pre-emptive attack to disable the first wave of Samyte-Lira’s invasion fleet before it could attack.  We have also seized control of the gahum mines, and the gahum supply will once again power our vehicles, warm our homes, and provide us with our necessary day-to-day comforts.  Humankind is safer today than it was yesterday, and I can assure you that it will be safer tomorrow than it is today.  Good day.”

            Lalaki was speechless as President Bruce finished his address to the people of the Earth Empire.  So many lies!  Samyte-Lira was planning to invade Earth?  Ludicrous!  Hording gahum?  That was a lie; they had been honoring their treaty with Earth.  Allying with the Sili Alliance?  If only that were true.

            “We picked up this broadcast ten minutes ago,” Chairman Kasama said.  “It’s quite clear that they don’t intend to stop at Wa’y.”

            “I didn’t need Bruce to tell me that,” Lalaki said.  “Of course he’s coming for us.  Humans are a disease that will infect the entire galaxy if they can.”

            “What’s our best course of action?” Kasama asked.

            “The best course?” Lalaki said to the head of the Samyte-Liran government.  “We go back in time and join the Sili Alliance when I first suggested it.”

            Kasama sighed.  “Commander, I stand by the Council’s decision to remain neutral in the war between Earth and the Sili.”

            “A lot of good neutrality did us!” Lalaki said.  “Earth has knocked down our front door!  The Sili—“

            “The Sili,” Kasama interrupted, “cannot be trusted.  They took advantage of us at a time when our world was divided in war to invade us.”

            “That was 300 years ago!”

            “You think they’ve changed?  They’re still sneaky, slimy, untrustworthy reptiles.”

            “You sound like a Human.”

            Kasama was quiet for a moment as he gained his composure.  “Commander Lalaki,” he finally said, “keeping in mind that we can’t travel through time, what is our best course of action?”

            Letting the argument drop, Lalaki sat back in his chair.  “Earth outnumbers us and outguns us,” he said.  “We can’t afford to be spread out across ten solar systems the way we are.”

            “Are you suggesting we abandon our colonies?” Kasama asked with wide eyes.

            Lalaki nodded.  “The Central Strategists and I all agree that we stand a better chance if we concentrate our forces here at Samyte-Lira.  I’ll be sending the order as soon as you and I are done here.  Evacuating the colonists is a political decision, so that’s your call.  The military will, of course, escort civilian ships.”

            “You want to just hand over our colonies to Earth?”

            “I don’t want to, Chairman, but we don’t have much choice.”  He called up a display on the screen of his console and turned it so Kasama could see.  “A satellite orbiting Wa’y sent us this image shortly before it was destroyed.”  Kasama’s eyes widened again.  The display showed Earth’s invasion fleet orbiting Wa’y.

            “How many?” Kasama asked with a breathless voice.

            “347 ships,” Lalaki said.  “Each ship carries ten bombers, 50 fighters, and 400 infantry.  Wa’y was taken by three ships.”

            The blood drained from Kasama’s face, turning it from a healthy light green to a pale white that made him look almost Human.

            “This invasion fleet, which is only a fraction of Earth’s total forces, is larger than our fleet in its entirety.”

*  *  *

            The Humans had life-sign detectors, so hiding was difficult.  No matter where Apo went in the library, they would be able to find him.  He would have to hide in plain sight.

            A crowd of 14 people cowered in the main room of the library.  Some sat at computer terminals with looks of shock; others paced, not sure what to do, and on the verge of panic.  Apo ducked behind a case of old paper copies of books.  He dropped his rifle and belt, and shrugged out of the shirt of his uniform.  Beneath this, he wore a plain shirt, one that would blend into a crowd.  Something needed to be done about his pants.  They were obviously army pants.

            Human voices spoke from somewhere else in the building.  It was in their own language this time, so Apo didn’t understand.

            Apo kicked his boots off and hurried out of his pants.  He turned them inside out and put them back on.  Instead of gray fatigues, they now looked like plain white pants with rough seams and an odd style of pockets.  Apo gambled that Human soldiers wouldn’t be aware enough of Liran fashion to find anything strange about how he was dressed.

            Apo stuffed his shirt and belt on a shelf behind some books, but not before removing the knife and slipping it into a pocket.  As he stepped back into his boots, he looked around for a place to hide the rifle.

            “They’re just outside the door,” someone said behind him.  Apo spun around and saw a middle-aged woman standing at the end of the bookcase.  “Leave it and come out here with the rest of us.”  She knew that the Humans would kill him if they knew he was a soldier.  Apo left the rifle on the floor and sat at a computer terminal.  He put his head in his hands in what he hoped was a position that showed despair.

            Seconds after Apo sat down, two Human soldiers stormed in with their large rifles held out in front of them.  One held a small handheld scanner: the life-sign detector.  They wore gleaming armor that covered them from neck to toe, and a matching helmet that left only their faces exposed.  Two insignias were on their chest plates.  One was a picture of Earth with the only English Apo knew written beneath it: “EMPIRE OF EARTH.”  The other insignia meant nothing to Apo.  It looked like a drawing of a shoe with sleek wings.  Perhaps it had something to do with the Airglide Sportswear that he had heard mentioned earlier.  The Human with the scanner was a pink one; the other was dark brown.

            English was exchanged between the two.  The pink one walked around the bookcase that Apo had hidden behind.  He appeared a moment later holding Apo’s rifle.  A few more words back and forth.

            The brown Human flicked something from the side of his helmet over his mouth: a translator.  “A Liran soldier is in this room,” he said.  “Which one of you is he?”

            No one responded.

            “We know he’s in here,” the Human said again.

            Still, no one answered.  Apo was growing nervous.  Would the Humans detain everyone, or would they kill them?  It wasn’t long before his question was answered.

            The brown Human raised his rifle.  An orange beam of energy blew the head off of the closest Liran to him.  Apo twitched, and some people screamed.

            “Was that him?” the Human asked.  He actually smiled.  And the pink one laughed.

            Apo started to stand.  He had to turn himself in before anyone else was killed.  However, a hand on his shoulder kept him in his seat.

            “I don’t think that was him,” the brown Human was saying.  He looked over the crowd and waited for an answer.  When none came, he flipped the translator away from his mouth and turned to the pink Human.  He gave an order, three quick syllables, and the pink one replied with a nod.

            Apo had a bad feeling about the order that had just been given.

            The brown Human took the pink one’s scanner and left.  Seeing a chance, Apo reached into his pants and slipped the knife out of his pocket.  A grotesque smile on his face, the pink Human leveled his rifle at a young woman.

            It has to be now, Apo told himself.  He stood and threw the knife.  The ideal target would’ve been the Human’s throat so that any scream would be choked off, but the armor he wore protected that part of his body.  So Apo aimed for his left eye.

            His training paid off; Apo’s aim was true.  The hilt of the knife seemed to stare back at Apo from the bleeding socket.  The Human didn’t scream.  The entire 20-centimeter blade had disappeared into his brain.  He was dead before he even fell.

            Apo didn’t waste an instant.  He ran forward, grabbed the rifle out of the Human’s dying hands as he fell, and fired a shot into the ceiling.  If the brown Human had been paying attention to the life-sign detector, he would think that his fellow soldier had just shot a Liran.  At least that’s what Apo hoped.

            As the Empire of Earth had drawn nearer to Liran space, Liran soldiers had been trained extensively on Human equipment.  Apo had no trouble stripping the dead Human’s armor off.

            “Get out of this room, all of you,” Apo said.  If the other Human returned and found them still alive, he would finish the job himself.  If they were found elsewhere in the library, they had a better chance at survival.

            As Apo strapped the Human armor onto himself, the civilians left through various exits, but none out of the exit the brown Human had used.

            “You’re Performer Ngatawo,” the middle-aged woman who had spoken to him earlier said before she left.

            “Yes,” Apo said as he continued to put the armor on.  He wasn’t surprised to be recognized.  Everyone on Wa’y knew that Maupay Ngatawo’s great-grandson was stationed here.

            “My name is Lagas Apalido,” the woman said.

            Apo looked at her with newfound respect at the mention of her name.  “Commander Ngaran Apalido’s granddaughter?”

            She nodded.

            “I had no idea you were on Wa’y,” Apo said.  Ngaran Apalido had been High Commander during the war that made Maupay Ngatawo famous.  Maupay had saved Ngaran’s life.  “Thanks for helping me hide,” Apo said.

            Lagas shrugged.  “My family is in your family’s debt,” she said.  She looked like she had more to say, but Apo stopped her.

            “You should really go,” he said.  She nodded and left.

            Apo wore all of the armor now except for the helmet.  He recalibrated the translator so that the earpiece changed English to common Liran, and the mouthpiece changed common Liran to English.  That done, he put the helmet on and flipped the translator over his mouth.  The disguise would work from a distance, but up close, his light green skin and pale yellow eyes would give him away.

            “Horner!” a voice behind him bellowed.  The brown Human was back.  “What the sexual intercourse are you doing?”  Translators weren’t perfect.  Apo was sure that what was translated as “sexual intercourse” was an Earth expletive that didn’t have a Liran equivalent.

            Apo acted before the Human noticed Horner’s dead body on the floor.

            “I told you to—“  Apo spun around before the Human finished speaking and shot him in the face.  Red blood sprayed everywhere.  Apo had planned on stuffing Horner’s body in a closet, but there was no point in hiding it now.  There was no way he could clean up all this blood before he was discovered.  He pulled his knife out of Horner’s eye, wiped it on the dead Human’s shirt, and found a place for it on his new armor’s utility belt.

            Apo slung the Earth rifle over his shoulder and headed for an exit.

*  *  *

            “Have all warships reported in?” Lalaki asked Fleet Strategist Ibabaw.

            “The last one’s coming in now,” Ibabaw said.  “All 175 are in orbit.”

            “How many fighters are currently ready for action?”

            “15,000,” Ibabaw said.  “Pilots are on stand-by.  They’ll be in the sky five minutes after they’re given the order.

            “Good.”  Lalaki turned to Strategist Kalibutan, who was in charge of the planetary defense system.  “What were the results of the PDS diagnostic?”

            “Perfectly operational,” Kalibutan said.

            “So was Wa’y’s,” Lalaki said.  “I want the defense satellites manned.  They snuck passed automated detection, but I doubt they’re invisible.  Make sure whoever mans the satellites keeps a sharp eye out.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Lalaki checked the time.  Earth’s invasion fleet was estimated to arrive in a little less than an hour.

            “You’re all dismissed,” Lalaki said to the gathered Strategists and their aides.  “Keep up the good work.”

*  *  *

            “Where are you going, Private Horner?” a voice said over the radio.

            “I’m heading back to the ship,” Apo said.  He glanced around again.  No soldiers were anywhere near him as he walked from the settlement in the direction of the troop transport.

            “Why?” the voice said.  Apo wished he had a name to put to the voice, or at least a rank.

            “My rifle isn’t working,” Apo lied.  “I need a replacement.”

            There was a pause.  Apo continued walking.  He was almost to the ship.  Was the owner of the voice suspicious?  Did she know Private Horner well enough to notice that it wasn’t Horner’s voice talking back to her?

            “I’ve lost contact with Sergeant James,” the voice said.  “Do you know why?”

            “No,” Apo said.  He assumed that Sergeant James was the brown Human he had shot in the face.  “We split up looking for the Liran soldier.  I haven’t seen him since.”

            Two guards stood on either side of the entrance hatch to the ship.  Apo would have to deal with them before they noticed that he wasn’t Human, but what would be his best course of action?  Shoot them?  Somehow distract them from looking at his face and just walk passed them?

            A new voice on the same radio frequency forced a decision.  “Lieutenant Waldie!” the voice said.  “James and Horner are dead!”

            “Horner?” the first voice—Lieutenant Waldie—said.  “You’re sure?”

            Apo raised his rifle and fired twice even as the new voice confirmed that it was Horner.  The two guards fell dead, and Apo ran passed them and through the hatch.  He was in a large empty compartment lined with seats for the troops.  Apo closed the hatch and ran for another smaller hatch on the far side of the compartment.

            “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, you green-assed bastard,” Waldie said, “but it won’t work.”

            “Probably not,” Apo agreed.  “But I figure you’re going to kill me anyway, so I might as well make it interesting.”

            The hatch Apo was headed for started to swing shut.  He tossed his rifle, and it jammed the hatch open.  Without slowing down, Apo slammed into the hatch and snagged the rifle off of the floor as he passed through the opening. 

            There was movement to his left: another hatch opening.  Apo spun in that direction, swinging the rifle up to fire, but he was too late.  The pink Human woman shot him with her pistol.

*  *  *

            A one-way transmission arrived at Lalaki’s console as he went over fleet formations.  He punched the receive button, and a red reptilian face came into view.  It was a face Lalaki recognized: Commander Kakzstril, leader of the Sili Alliance military.

            “Chairman Kasama and High Commander Lalaki,” Kakzstril said, “we must deny your request for assistance in your conflict with the Empire of Earth.  We do not have the resources to get involved in foreign affairs of this nature.  My apologies, and good luck.”  The screen went blank.

            Lalaki resisted the urge to call Kasama and yell at him about his decision to stay out of the Sili Alliance.  That wouldn’t help, and he didn’t have the time to spare.  He turned his attention back to preparations.

            The fleet was currently spread evenly around the world in an orbit lower than the defense satellites.  Once Earth’s invasion fleet was spotted, they would tighten into as many groups as necessary to best defend Samyte-Lira.

            They didn’t stand a chance.  Lalaki knew this.  Lirans had been a space-faring race for a relatively short period of time, especially compared to the ancient Sili.  Their population was small: 12 billion people spread over ten solar systems.  The Empire of Earth encompassed 117 solar systems, populated by 450 billion people, including non-Human species they had conquered.  They had countless more resources than Samyte-Lira did.  Even if the Liran fleet somehow managed to defeat Earth’s invasion fleet, the Empire would just send a second fleet to crush Samyte-Lira’s weakened defenses.

            It was hopeless.  Lalaki knew it was hopeless.  But Earth would get more of a fight than they expected.

*  *  *

            “You know, your pants are inside out.”

            Apo, held up by two large Human men, looked at Lieutenant Waldie.  He had just regained consciousness and was still groggy.  When Waldie had shot him, she had struck him in the left shoulder.  Her pistol hadn’t been powerful enough to pierce his armor, but the impact had been enough to knock him out, and a sharp pain dug its claws into his shoulder.

            “The Liran army seems to be getting slack about uniform standards,” Waldie said.  The two soldiers holding Apo laughed.  His stolen armor had been stripped off, and Apo hung from his captors’ grasps in his undershirt and reversed pants.  He got his feet planted on the floor and swayed there.  The Human men still held him, but he was no longer hanging by his arms.  The relief to his wounded shoulder was immediate; the sharp pain settled to a deep ache.

            Lieutenant Waldie stood in her armor, minus helmet, with her pistol still in her right hand.  Apo supposed that, by Human standards, she was an attractive woman, but he, being Liran, found her dark green eyes, pale pinkish skin, and course brown hair strange.  Her hair was pulled back and tied so that it fell between her shoulders like a tail.  Her lips smiled, but anger smoldered in her eyes.

            “Before I kill you,” she said, “I want you to tell me your name.”

            “Why?” Apo asked.  He didn’t understand why he wasn’t already dead.  What did the name of one Liran soldier matter to these people?

            “You single-handedly killed four of my soldiers,” Waldie answered.  “One of them a highly skilled Sergeant.  Then you eluded capture until you made your way on board this ship.  I admire talent, even in my enemy.  I’d like to know the name of such a talented person before I kill him.”

            Apo didn’t think it was a worthy reason to know a man’s name, but he still relented.  “Apo Ngatawo, Performer 2^nd Level.”

            “Ngatawo?” she repeated.  The name sounded skewed in her alien mouth, but Apo barely noticed that.  Some of the anger in her eyes was overshadowed by recognition.  “Any relation to Maupay Ngatawo?”

            Apo was stunned.  He had no idea that the legend of Maupay Ngatawo was known in the Empire of Earth.

            Waldie’s smile widened.  “You are related, aren’t you?”

            “He’s my great-grandfather.”

            “I hear he did quite the number on the Sili in the past.  That was a great service to us.”

            “It wasn’t meant to be.”

            Waldie paused and thought something over.  Why didn’t she get this over with?  Apo didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want the moment to drag out, either.  Just pull the trigger!

            She surprised him by holstering her pistol.  “Take him to the brig,” she said.  “Gunn, you guard him.  Brenner, report back to me when you’re done.  I’ll be in the cockpit preparing for take-off.”

*  *  *

            Lalaki’s aide’s anxious voice spoke from the console: “They’ve been spotted, Commander.”

            Commander Lalaki leapt to his feet and walked through the door connecting his office to the Central Control Room.  “Where are they?” he asked.

            “They’re still pretty far out past Tori-Na,” Strategist Kalibutan answered.  He stood behind one of his subordinates at a holographic display in the center of the room.  The display showed Samyte-Lira from a distance with the fleet and defense satellites—represented by green dots—orbiting it.  In higher orbits, the two moons, Pius and Tori-Na, lumbered around the planet.  At the very edge of the display, a swarm of red dots representing the invasion fleet glided to a stop just out of range of Tori-Na’s defense perimeter.  “Coming for the daytime side of us by the looks of it,” Kalibutan continued.

            “How many?” Lalaki asked.

            “We’re still working on that,” Kalibutan said.  “You were right about the PDS.  Our sensors didn’t pick them up.  We made visual contact.  Someone manning a telescope on Tori-Na saw them.  We’re recalibrating the sensors to read them.  We should have an exact number soon, but it looks like they’re all coming in one big group.”

            “Ibabaw,” Lalaki said.

            “Yes, sir?” Strategist Ibabaw answered and turned to face Lalaki.

            “Defensive position 1-A.”

            “Yes, sir.”  Ibabaw turned and relayed the orders to the fleet.  Lalaki watched the holographic display as the fleet gathered into three large groups on the daytime side of the planet.

            “We have a number, Commander,” Kalibutan said.  “342.”

            “342?” Lalaki said.  “That’s accurate?”

            “Yes.”

            “Where are the other five?”

            “We don’t know.”

            Lalaki didn’t like this.  347 ships were seen at Wa’y.  342 were now approaching Samyte-Lira.  Where were the other five?  Had they gone to colonies?  Had they stayed behind at Wa’y?  Or were they sneaking in the backdoor?

            “Ibabaw, I want five warships held back out of the way.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Are the fighters in the air?”

            “They’re on their way to join the fleet.”

            “Send 300 to join those five warships.”

            A voice called from the communications center: “Commander Lalaki,” the officer in charge there said.  “A message is coming in for you from the commander of the Human fleet.”

            Lalaki crossed the room at a brisk pace.  “Open a channel,” he said.  The communications officer punched a few buttons, and the face of an aging Human man appeared on the screen.  He had a harsh face with deep lines, and his short hair was gray.  Lalaki guessed that he was 88 years old, which would be about 55 Earth years.

            “This is High Commander Kuya Lalaki of the Samyte-Lira Armed Forces,” Lalaki said.  “You have entered our space without our permission.  Withdraw now, or we will fire on your ships.”

            The Human smiled.  “Commander Lalaki, I’m Admiral Ferguson,” he said.  “We’re taking your planet whether you like it or not.  Make it easier on your people.  You can save a lot of lives by surrendering now.”

            “We will not,” Lalaki said, “live under the tyranny of your Empire.”

            Ferguson shrugged.  “Fine.  We’ll do this the hard way.”  With that, he broke the connection.

            “Okay,” Lalaki addressed the entire room.  “This is it.  Let’s send these red-blooded dogs back to Earth.”

*  *  *

            Soon after Apo had been taken to the brig, the troop transport had lifted off and returned to its mother ship.  Once it was docked, Apo had been escorted off the transport and to another brig on the much larger invasion ship.

            The room he was put in was an empty steel square, four meters by four meters.  Shackles hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room.  Apo had been stripped, and his wrists had been locked in the shackles.  Having his arms fully extended above his head was quite uncomfortable, and the room was kept ten degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, which made the experience all the more unpleasant.  The guards had left the room after they had dealt with Apo, leaving him shackled, naked, shivering, and alone.

            Two anxious hours passed.  Apo’s mind raced.  What were they going to do with him?  From the time the Human’s attacked until he was captured by Lieutenant Waldie, he had expected to die fighting.  But Waldie had kept him alive for some unknown reason.  He didn’t want to think about why, so he turned his thoughts to Samyte-Lira.  Had it been attacked yet?  If so, how were they faring?  Apo hoped his fellow Lirans were slaughtering the Humans’ pink and brown hides.  He smiled at the thought of the Empire of Earth being defeated by little Samyte-Lira.  They had turned away an alien invasion before; maybe they could do it again.  I wish I could be there fighting with them.

            The door slid open, and Lieutenant Waldie sauntered in with two armed guards.  She wore a small plastic plug in her ear—a translator—and she stuck another one into Apo’s ear.

            “Comfortable?” she asked.

            Apo didn’t answer.

            “I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” she said.  “I’m Lieutenant Renée Waldie.”  She held out her hand as if he could return Earth’s custom of shaking hands, then laughed at her own joke.  “Sorry,” she said.  “I couldn’t resist.”

            “Where are you taking me?” Apo asked.

            “We’re taking you home,” Waldie said.  “We should arrive at Samyte-Lira in about 45 minutes.  The main body of the fleet is probably there already.”

            “What are you going to do with me once we get there?”

            Waldie smiled, a glimmer of malice in her eyes.  “I’ve studied your culture and history to great length preparing for this war,” she said.  “Your great-grandfather is arguably the most celebrated hero in your planet’s recorded history.  You, Apo (Do you mind if I call you Apo?  It’s easier to pronounce than Ngatawo.), you’re a symbol of Liran heroism.”

            “That doesn’t answer my question,” Apo said.

            “I’m getting to that, don’t worry.  I was going to kill you back on Wa’y, but when I found out who you were, I got a better idea.  I’ve been discussing it with my superiors, and they agree with me.  Once we occupy Borongan City, we will publicly execute three Lirans: Council Chairman Kasama, leader of your government; High Commander Lalaki, leader of your military; and you, Apo, symbol of Samyte-Lira’s greatest military victory.”

            So that’s why, Apo saw.  He was to be a demoralizing blow to any Liran forces that survived Earth’s initial assault.  Apo felt a rage building unlike any anger he had felt before.  It was anger, not for himself, but for the atrocities about to be committed on his home, and for the atrocities already committed to other planets at the hands of these conquerors from an obscure corner of the galaxy

            “You people won’t be happy until you control the entire galaxy, will you?” Apo said.

            Still smiling, Waldie said, “The galaxy will be a better place under our control.”

            Apo laughed without any mirth.  “Have you looked at the section of the galaxy you control?  You’ve raped entire planets of their natural resources.  Civilizations have been crushed by Humans.”

            “All for the greater good,” Waldie said.  “Those natural resources have built up and fueled the Empire.  And those civilizations are much better off living under our system of rule, not the barbaric way of life they lived before.”

            “By ‘greater good,’ of course, you mean, ‘for the good of Humans,’” Apo said.

            “Have you seen Earth?” Waldie asked.  “It’s a paradise.  Clean air, clean water, and the highest standard of living in the known galaxy.”

            “All at the expense of the planets you’ve stolen,” Apo said.  “I know somewhat about your history.  You were killing your planet.  It wasn’t until you took over other planets to spoil that you cleaned up Earth and turned it into your so-called paradise.”

            “Survival of the fittest, Apo.”

            “Oh, is that your philosophy?  You murder billions of lives and strip entire planets because you can?  That’s very noble.”

            Waldie laughed.  “I like you, Apo,” she said.  “Sarcasm is rare among alien races.  And you have balls—well, one ball, anyway.  It’s strange that species from Earth seem to be the only ones that have males with two testicles.”

            “Maybe that’s why you’re so aggressive.”

            Waldie shrugged.  “Maybe.  Although, I like to think of it as ambition rather than aggression.”

            “Call it whatever you like,” Apo said.  “You’re still a hostile force that needs to be stopped.”

            Waldie paused, her smile more thoughtful.  “You said you’re familiar with our history,” she said.  “Do you know how we came across interstellar travel?”

            Little was known about Earth’s history before they had faster-than-light capability.  It seemed to the rest of this sector of the galaxy that the Humans came out of nowhere and wasted no time conquering all of their nearest neighbors.  Earth had been in uncharted space at the time.  The first race to fall before them had been the Vaigons.  Before Earth had shown up, the Vaigon Empire had been the strongest, most aggressive species in the known galaxy.

            “I suppose it happened around the time you conquered the Vaigons,” Apo guessed.

            Waldie snorted.  “You say that as if we started the war with the Vaigons,” she said.

            “Didn’t you?”

            “No.  In fact, the incident with the Vaigons isn’t too different from Samyte-Lira’s incident with the Sili.  It even happened around the same time.  We were all alone in our little patch of space.  The farthest we had ever ventured from home was to the closest neighboring planet in our solar system, which was more barren and lifeless than Wa’y.  Our greatest scientists had always told us that it was impossible to travel faster than the speed of light, so we assumed that, if there was life on other worlds, we would never make contact with them because of the insurmountable distance between stars.  Then the Vaigons showed up.  Or, rather, they invaded.  Millions of Humans died in a matter of hours.  Cities were leveled. 

“When it was looking like we were about to fall to the first alien race we came in contact with, we came up with one final strategy.  We actually got the idea from an old science fiction movie.  We attacked them with our diseases.  Influenza, measles, small pox, AIDS, SARS, everything.  They had never been exposed to any of these before.  Some of the illnesses didn’t affect them; they had a natural immunity.  But most of them proved fatal.  Three days after we exposed them, their entire invasion fleet was infected.

“Some of their ships turned back to their home, but most of them, their crews dead or close to it, remained in orbit.  We sent engineers up to learn how the ships worked.  Ten years after the Vaigons invaded, we had built a fleet of ships based on their design, and, using their own star charts, went to their home world and wiped them out.  We were met with less resistance than we had expected.  The Vaigon invasion ships that had made it home spread the diseases.  Three quarters of the population had died before they contained the plague.”

            “I can understand you attacking the Vaigons,” Apo said, “although completely wiping them out was excessive.  But you didn’t stop there.  How many other races have you conquered in the centuries since then?  You said yourself, that incident wasn’t so different than the Sili invasion of Samyte-Lira.  You don’t see us killing everyone in sight who isn’t a Liran.”

            “No offense, Apo,” Waldie said, “but Lirans are push-overs with a very stunted sense of ambition, and that will be your downfall.  We Humans have taken the initiative.  We aren’t going to sit at home and wait for another alien invasion.  We—“

            “You are the alien invasion,” Apo interrupted.  “All you’ve done is knock off the bullies of the galaxy and replace them as even bigger bullies.  You’re a race of goons and sheep.  Human civilians sit at home growing fat, watching television, and obsessing over the private lives of celebrities, all the while ignoring the crimes your government and corporations, which control the government, are committing every day!”

            Waldie paused.  When she was sure Apo was done, she said, “As I was saying, we’re making the galaxy a safer place.”

            “A safer place for Humans,” Apo said.  “Everyone else is living in fear.  Their lives are in danger as long as the Empire of Earth exists.”

            “Of course we’re making it a safer place for Humans,” Waldie said.  “We are Human.  Who else would we make it safer for?”

            “What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?” Apo said.  “We’ve done nothing to you.  Most of the races you’re fighting have done nothing to you.  Earth wasn’t in danger once you killed the Vaigons, so don’t tell me you think you’re doing this for safety.  It’s hate and greed, nothing more.  You see someone who looks different than you, someone with a different ideology than you, so you go in, tear them down, take their land and resources, and force your own ideology on them.  If everyone can’t be Human, then you can at least make them act Human and build up Earth’s empire, right?”

            Waldie smiled again.  It was the most aggravating thing she could’ve done.  She was dismissing everything Apo said.  He was, after all, only a Liran.  “You’re so cute,” she said.  “It’s almost a shame I have to kill you.  You’d make an amusing pet.”

            “I’d kill you the first chance I got,” Apo said.

            One of the guards stepped forward and punched Apo in the stomach.  The breath rushed out of him, and his knees buckled.  He hung there writhing in pain and struggling for breath.  The shackles dug into his flesh as his entire weight was put on his wrists.  The guard struck him again, this time with a backhanded slap that sent a spray of blood from his nose.

            “That’ll do,” Waldie said.

            Apo got his feet planted again.  He stood there coughing and spitting out blood that had run from his nose into his mouth.

            “Have you always wanted to be a soldier, Apo?” Waldie asked.

            “What do you care?” Apo wheezed.

            “I’m curious,” she said.  “Your family has a proud military history.  Was your grandfather a soldier?  And your father?”

            “Yes.”

            “So tell me, Apo.  Did you join the army because you wanted to, or because you were pressured to by your family?”

            Apo was silent.  This bit of insight on her part annoyed him.  Right or not, what business was it of hers?

            “Silence speaks volumes, Apo,” Waldie said.  “Am I right in assuming that you were pressured by your family to enlist?”

            Apo nodded.

            “What did you want to do with your life when you were younger?”

            “I don’t know.  I had never really thought about it.  I was raised being told that I would be a great soldier someday just like Maupay.  I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

            “That’s what happens in families,” Waldie said.  “We learned long ago on Earth to abandon archaic ideas such as marriage, monogamy, and the ‘family unit.’  Children are raised at institutions run by trained child psychologists, where they are raised without the pressures and unhealthy relationships inherent in the family.  This is just one of the ways Earth is superior to everyone else.  Adults have the freedom to pair up with whomever they wish for as long as they wish without the guilt that comes from monogamous relationships.  Children are raised in a nurturing environment by a team of professionals who don’t pressure them into fulfilling their unfulfilled dreams.  The traditional family simply does not work.  Had you been raised under Earth rule, you wouldn’t be here right now, Apo.  You would’ve been encouraged to find your own dreams and pursue them.”

            “I love my family,” Apo said.  “They aren’t perfect, no, but no one is.  They have faults, but I wouldn’t trade my family for anything.”

            “I never would’ve taken you for the sentimental type, Apo.”

            Apo ignored her.  “My life in the military was unfulfilling; you’re right about that,” he said.  “I didn’t have a purpose.  Nothing motivated me.  You’ve changed that.”

            “And how did I do that, Apo?”

            “By contrasting it to your despicable culture, I’ve realized how noble my own culture is.  It has its flaws, yes, but all cultures do.  Earth, on the other hand, is the closest thing to pure evil I’ve ever come across.  You’ve given me something to fight for.”

            Waldie laughed.  “Strong words for a naked one-balled man hanging from the ceiling,” she said.  “You’re just being dramatic now, Apo.  I can understand your anxiety.  Your planet is about to undergo some major changes, and you will not survive the day.  I can assure you, though, that your world will be a better place once the transitional phase is over with.”

            Apo violently shook his shackles.  “We don’t want to change!” he yelled.  “We’re happy with the way we are!  We don’t want anything to do with your debauched society!”

            “You’re upset,” Waldie said.  “We’ll give you some time alone to calm down.”  She turned and left the room with the guards close behind her.  The door slid shut, and the lights went out.

            Frustrated, Apo stood in the dark with nothing to listen to but the hum of the ship’s engine and the sound of his own heavy breathing.

*  *  *

“Pull them back,” Lalaki said.  “I want those Earth ships to come in range of the defense satellites.”

            Lalaki watched the holographic display as his orders were carried out.  The Liran fleet—cut back from 170 warships to 115 in the past 30 minutes—moved away from Earth’s fleet—down to 326 ships—until they were level with the PDS grid.  The 12, 800 remaining Liran fighters also pulled back.  The Human ships moved forward to meet them.  As soon as they were in range, the three satellites in the area erupted into life.

            Earth’s fleet faltered under the heavy fire of the defense satellites coupled with the fire from the warships.  The Liran fighters held back, avoiding the crossfire.  The large invasion ships were taking the brunt of fire.  A wave of 400 Earth fighters broke off from the fleet and swung around from the side.  They were headed for the satellites.

            “Get those fighters!” Lalaki ordered.

            Three warships and half of the Liran fighters responded.  They directed their fire at the incoming fighters.  Earth’s fighters were taking heavy losses, but they weren’t turned from their target.  They swept passed the first satellite.

            “It’s down!” Strategist Kalibutan said and slammed his fist on a desk.  “They’re heading for a second satellite.”

            The invasion ships, in the meantime, had spread out to make themselves harder targets for the concentrated fire thrown out by the satellites.  They backed off out of range while their fighters dealt with the satellites.

            “Second satellite down!” Kalibutan said.

            “Ibabaw!” Lalaki said.  “Stop those fighters!”

            “I’m on it, sir.”  Ibabaw was frantically giving orders to the captains of the warships and fighter squad leaders.

            Lalaki looked back at the holographic display.  With the invasion fleet out of range, the Liran fleet turned its attention on the wave of Earth fighters—cut down to 150—and quickly wiped them out before they could take down the third and final satellite in the area.

            There was a pause in the battle.  After losing 15 more ships, Earth was regrouping out of range of Liran defenses.

            “Kalibutan,” Lalaki said.  “How long will it take to move two more satellites from the nearest section of the PDS grid to replace the two we just lost?”

            “25 minutes,” Kalibutan answered.

            “Do it,” Lalaki said.  He turned back to the display to assess the situation.  Earth still had 311 ships and 16,450 fighters.  Samyte-Lira had 115 warships, 12,600 fighters, and the one defense satellite with two more on the way.  Five additional warships and 300 fighters still waited in a low orbit.

            “We could use those extra five ships,” Ibabaw suggested.

            “No,” Lalaki said.  “Those other five invasion ships are still out there somewhere.  I want some forces ready to deal with them.”

            Earth’s ships were on the move again.  They pulled into a tight formation and headed towards the planet.  The path they were taking went through the space recently occupied by one of the defense satellites.

            “Move our forces to intercept,” Lalaki said to Ibabaw.  “Kalibutan, is there a hole in the PDS there that they can slip through?”

            “Yes,” Kalibutan answered.  “We’re moving our satellites around to compensate, but they won’t be in position in time.”

            The Liran fleet had moved to block the progress of the Earth fleet.  Both sides opened fire.

            “They aren’t stopping,” Lalaki said.  Instead of stopping to engage the Liran warships, the invasion fleet was punching a hole through them.  “Don’t let them through!”  If they got close enough to the planet, they would release their bombers and troop transports.  Lalaki didn’t want to deal with a fight on the surface.  He wanted to do anything he could to keep civilians safe.

            Ibabaw gave more orders to the fleet, and Lalaki watched the display as the warships tightened their formation to fill in the hole Earth was trying to force through.  The invasion fleet’s momentum was dammed, and they were forced to fight the Liran fleet.

            “Sir!” Kalibutan said.  “Three satellites on the nighttime side of the planet just went down!”

            “How?” Lalaki asked.

            “Our sensors weren’t picking them up.  One of the men in a satellite reported making visual contact with invasion ships just before we lost contact.”

            The other five ships.  “Ibabaw, send those five warships and the 300 fighters around to intercept.”

            Lalaki went to a smaller holographic display.  “Show me the nighttime side of the planet,” he said to the woman at the controls.  She punched a few buttons, and the display came to life.  Five Earth invasion ships were heading for the planet.  As he watched, the warships and fighters came into view and moved to intercept.

*  *  *

            Apo had been dozing on his feet, but he was shaken awake.  He opened his eyes on perfect darkness; the lights were still off.  He hadn’t been shaken awake by a person.  It had been the ship that had done the shaking.

            Were they at Samyte-Lira already?  He had lost track of time.  It could’ve been 45 minutes or 45 hours since Lieutenant Waldie left.  He had no way of knowing for sure.

            The ship shook violently again, this time accompanied by a booming crash.  It was definitely taking fire.  They must be at Samyte-Lira.  Apo wished that the ship he was on would be destroyed.  He would rather die anonymously with hundreds of Humans than die in a public execution.

            The lights came on.  Apo closed his eyes and turned his head from the glare.  The door opened and hurried footsteps approached.  Apo squinted at the approaching Human.  It was a man he didn’t recognize.  He threw a bundle of clothes at Apo’s feet and grabbed a key off his belt.

            “Lieutenant Waldie wants you to get dressed,” the Human said as he unlocked the shackles.  “We’ll be in control of Borongan within half an hour.  She wants you to be ready for your big moment.”

            The shackles unlocked, the Human turned and left the room.  The door slid shut behind him, but the lights remained on this time.

            Apo sat down heavily.  His legs ached, but his arms were worse.  He couldn’t lower them.  They were stiff and numb.  It took him a full minute to force his arms down.  His muscles objected the whole time.  Blood flowed back into them, and the tingling was maddening.

            Fifteen minutes later, when he felt his arms had recovered enough to move them, he struggled into his clothes.

*  *  *

            The scuffle between the five invasion ships on the nighttime side of the planet had been brief.  When it was over, two invasion ships descended towards the planet through the wreckage of the five Liran warships.  Lalaki ordered three more warships from the main fleet—which had been diminished to 85 ships—to intercept them, but it didn’t look like they were going to make it in time.

            “Strategist Salog,” Lalaki said to the woman in charge of the ground defenses.  “They’re in orbit above Hangin.  They’re probably coming for us here in Borongan.  Are we ready for them?”  Hangin was a large country on the East coast of the continent of Barkada.  Borongan was the largest city in this country, and it was the political center of the entire planet.

            “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Salog said.

            “Good,” Lalaki said.  “Let’s hope it’s enough.  It looks like you’ll be seeing some action pretty soon.”

            As Lalaki finished speaking, the invasion ships opened their shuttle bays and let loose the bombers and troop transports.  Their fighters had already left their mother ships to take part in the battle.  There were 96 of them left to accompany the twenty bombers and ten troop transports.  The invasion ships turned and engaged the three incoming Liran warships in order to stop them from firing on the smaller ships that were now entering the atmosphere.

            “Track them,” Lalaki said.  “Salog, I’m going to leave the ground battle in your hands for now.  I have to deal with the fight in orbit.”

            The battle in orbit was still raging with heavy losses on both sides, but the heavier losses being to the Lirans.  Earth had 205 ships and 10,000 fighters, while Samyte-Lira had 85 ships and 7,500 fighters.

            “We don’t have enough ships to hold all of them back any longer,” Ibabaw said.  “Invasion ships are starting to slip past us.”

            Lalaki saw this happening in the display.  Earth had split their fleet in two.  A group of 150 invasion ships was keeping the Liran warships and fighters busy while the remaining 55 ships descended below the range of defense satellites, spread out around the planet, and positioned themselves low enough for their bombers and troop transports to begin their swift drop to their targets on the surface.

            Things were about to get messy.  Lalaki knew that they had no hope of winning a war on the surface.  Their last slim hope had been stopping the Humans in orbit.  With that hope gone, it was only a matter of time before they were beaten.

            “Salog,” Lalaki said.  “Notify National Strategists worldwide.  We have more incoming.”

*  *  *

            After the ground war started, Samyte-Lira fell fast.  All of their fighters had been committed to the battle in orbit, and they were wiped out with the last of Samyte-Lira’s warships.  Strategist Salog coordinated a valiant defense using only surface-to-air canons, tanks, and infantry.  In the end, however, it proved inadequate against Earth’s overwhelming offense.

            Borongan and national capitals of all countries were targeted first.  Out of these, Borongan was the last to fall.  It was a textbook Human victory.  Bombers blanketed military installations with fierce fire.  They took out surface-to-air canons, tanks, and a good chunk of infantry.  Then the bombers moved on to government facilities and destroyed them.

            The bombers moved off, and the troop transports landed.  Human soldiers plowed over the decimated Liran infantry and made their way to the military and government facilities which had just been bombed.

            Chairman Kasama and Commander Lalaki were the only non-civilians taken alive.

*  *  *

            An hour after Apo had been given his clothes, the door to his cell opened again.  Grinning, Lieutenant Waldie came in with two guards.  “Apo!” she said.  “Time to go home, buddy.”

            Apo stood up.  His arms still ached, but he could at least move them without too much trouble.  “Is it over?” he asked.

            “Yes,” Waldie said.  “There are still a few little skirmishes going on here and there, but we are firmly in control.  We’re taking you to Borongan to meet the High Commander and the Chairman.”

            Apo was numb as one of the guards shackled his hands behind his back and pushed him forward out the door.  Samyte-Lira had lost.  The Empire of Earth had, in one day, conquered them.  Apo himself was going to his death.  How many other Lirans had died today?

            Waldie seemed to know what he was thinking.  “Don’t feel too bad,” she said.  “Samyte-Lira will be a better place under our control.”

            Apo didn’t respond.  He was through talking to her.

            They led him to a small shuttle, and all four of them got onboard.  Apo was seated near the back of the small cabin with a clear view out the front window.  The shuttle bay doors opened, and Apo saw the east coast of Barkada far below him.  The sun was just rising over Borongan.

            The shuttle lifted off and exited the shuttle bay.  It dodged an unrecognizable hulk of burnt debris and angled down towards Samyte-Lira.  As they neared the political capital of the world, Apo could see smoke billowing up from the city.  Most of it was concentrated in the area of the military base.  It became clear, as they got lower, that their destination was the Planetary Council Hall, which was in flames.

            The shuttle touched down in the street in front of the seat of Samyte-Lira’s political power, and Apo was led to the hatch.  It opened, and Apo stepped out with a guard in front of him and one behind.

            “Welcome home, Apo,” Waldie said.

            Apo was led to the steps of Planetary Council Hall where two other Lirans were on their knees and surrounded by Human guards.  Commander Lalaki and Chairman Kasama were waiting for him.  The guards escorting Apo forced him down to his knees to the left of Commander Lalaki.

            Lieutenant Waldie was off giving orders.  “Bring that recorder over here,” she was saying.  A trio of Human civilians walked over with a recorder.  They were going to broadcast this live to the people of Samyte-Lira, and later to the people of the Empire of Earth.

            “What’s your name, soldier?”

            Apo turned to look at Lalaki, who had asked him the question.  Defeated and bloody, the Commander of the Liran military still managed to look dignified.

            “2^nd Level Performer Ngatawo, sir,” Apo said.

            “Maupay’s descendant,” Lalaki said.

            “Yes, sir.”

            “You were stationed on Wa’y, weren’t you?”

            “They brought me here to join you when they found out who I was.”

            Lalaki shook his head.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

            The Humans came over and stood in front of them.  Lieutenant Waldie faced the recorder.  “People of Samyte-Lira,” she said.  “I have here three of your countrymen.  Two of them, you’ll recognize: Council Chairman Taas Kasama and High Commander Kuya Lalaki.  The third, you’ll recognize by name: Performer Apo Ngatawo, descendant of Maupay Ngatawo.”  She stepped aside and nodded to one of the Human soldiers.  This soldier stepped behind Apo and drew a pistol.

            Apo looked around at the gathered Humans with disgust.  They stood here on his native soil as if it had always been their property, and they were just claiming what was rightfully their own.  Waldie was grinning.  When she saw him looking at her, she winked.  He was filled with contempt for these intruders, these murderers, these thieves.

            Apo stood up.

            “Get down!” the Human behind him growled and kicked him in the back of the knee.  Apo fell back down, but returned to his feet without hesitation.

            Lalaki looked up at Apo.  An unlikely smile twitched the corners of his mouth.  He stood up next to this young 2^nd level performer.

            “I said on you knees!” the Human barked again.  He pushed Apo, who sprawled on the pavement.  With his hands shackled behind his back, he was unable to break his fall.  His forehead smacked painfully into the street and split open.

            The Human guard kicked Lalaki in the knees, sending him back to the ground.

            Apo and Lalaki both stood again.  Kasama, inspired by the two soldiers, rose to his own feet.  The Human swung his pistol like a club into the side of Kasama’s head, knocking him out cold.  He moved to Lalaki and kicked him in the knees again.  Then he stood behind Apo and placed his hands on his shoulders to push him down.

            Before the Human could make Apo kneel again, Apo threw his head backwards.  There was a wet crunch as the back of his head crushed the Human’s nose.  The Human dropped his pistol and cried out in rage and pain.

            Apo sprang forward while Lalaki leapt to his feet.

            “Kill them!” Waldie yelled.  A shot rang out, and Lalaki fell dead.  Apo charged at Waldie.  He knew he would die here today, but he wanted at least to try to kill this one Human tyrant.

            Waldie reached for her pistol, but she was too late.  Apo slammed his shoulder into her chest and knocked her onto the ground.   A beam of energy grazed Apo’s arm.  Someone was shooting at him, but he didn’t pay any heed.  Lieutenant Renée Waldie had his undivided attention.  He stomped his heel down on her nose, sending splinters of bone into her brain.

            Triumphant, Apo took a shot threw the heart and died.

*  *  *

            Lagas Apalido stood on the bridge of one of Wa’y’s evacuation ships.  Her band of armed Liran civilians was approaching Samyte-Lira.

            Earth had been over confident, and they had left Wa’y undermanned.  Their second mistake was broadcasting the execution of Ngatawo, Lalaki, and Kasama.  As she watched Apo’s courageous last stand, she had been filled with hope.  As she watched him die, she had been filled with anger. 

And she wasn’t the only one.

            Under the lead of the granddaughter of one of Samyte-Lira’s greatest military minds, the people of Wa’y organized a rebellion.  The Humans left behind on Wa’y were killed, and Lagas found an unused evacuation ship to transport them to Samyte-Lira.

            “We’re arriving now,” her helmsman, who until recently had been a miner, told her.  “There’s some sort of activity in orbit.”

            “Let’s see it,” Lagas said.

            The screen at the front of the bridge came to life.  The sight it showed filled her with joy.

            Recognizing an opportunity, the Sili Alliance was slaughtering Earth’s invasion fleet, which had taken heavy losses in the battle with the Lirans.

Purse Couch

 I belong to a message board called The Mo-Board that used to have a monthly writing contest.  The prompt for this story was a photo of an abandoned sofa in a clearing in a forest with a bright red purse on it.  The following story makes absolutely no sense, but I had fun writing it.

I didn’t wake up in the same place that I fell asleep.  Like any normal person, I fell asleep in my bed at home.  It was a nice double bed, more than big enough for its lone occupant.  I had just changed the sheets that morning, so they were nice and crisp, redolent of rosy fabric softener.  I wore a large T-shirt for a nightie and nothing else save my comfy cotton panties.  It was the normal end to a normal day.

The cold woke me up.  I was hugging my knees to my chest and shivering.  Still half asleep, I groped for my comforter.  My searching hand didn’t find it, so I opened my eyes and sat up.  It was still dark, but I could see dim shapes around me.  The first thing I noticed that was out of the ordinary was a breeze.  My hair stirred around my face.  The second thing I realized was the narrowness of what I thought was my bed.  The double mattress was gone.  My bed was only a few feet wide now.  My hand reached to my left and felt a soft barrier there.  The back of a sofa, I realized.  I was sleeping on the couch.

As I shivered in the cold, I heard a rustling sound all around me.  I stiffened, trying to identify what could be making such a sound in my apartment.  I looked around to see, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t in my apartment.  As I left the last of sleep behind, my senses sharpened, and my thoughts ordered themselves.  I was outside.  The rustling sound was the wind in the trees surrounding me.  Stars dotted the sky, and a sliver of moon hung just above the tops of the trees.

I stood up, and that’s when I realized that I was fully dressed.  The clothes fit me perfectly, but I didn’t recognize them: a beautiful black evening gown, elegant silk gloves past my elbow, and a pair of high heel shoes.  I didn’t own anything like this outfit.  I was a blue jeans kind of girl, except for when I went to work, and then it was blouses, simple skirts, and sensible shoes.

I hugged myself to keep warm.  It was early summer, so I wasn’t in danger of freezing to death, but the nights were still cool enough to require a jacket.  I checked my wrist and found a delicate gold watch that sparkle even in the dim moonlight.  I had to hold it right up to my eyes, but I could make out the time.  It was a quarter to four.  I had gone to bed at 11:00.

What next?  I had no idea where I was.  How far outside of the city was I, and in what direction?  Standing with my arms folded across my chest, I looked around the clearing.  The couch was old, and the wild grass had grown up around it as if it had always been there, just part of the landscape.  The cushions sagged unevenly from decades of butts coming and going.  Beyond the couch, at the edge of the trees, was a large box that I couldn’t really make out in the dark.  Other than that, nothing.

I walked around the couch to the box to take a closer look.  The long grass snagged at my dress as I moved.  The box was made of wood.  When I tried to open the lid, it wouldn’t budge.  I felt for a clasp, and found a padlock keeping it shut.  Forgetting the box, I peered into the woods.  I could see trees for about ten feet, and then nothing but darkness.  I walked around the circumference of the small clearing hoping to catch a glimpse of something that would lead me to civilization, but there was only darkness and trees.

If there had been clouds in the sky, I could look to see if city lights were reflecting off them, but the night was clear.

I turned back to the couch with the intention of sitting down, but I stopped after only one step.  In the middle of the couch, looking neatly placed, was a bright red purse.  Had that been there a moment before?  Had it been there while I was lying on the couch?  No.  No, it hadn’t.  I was sure of it.

“Who’s there?” I called.  Somewhere in the trees, an owl echoed my question: “Who?”

I turned in a circle, trying to look in every direction at once.  In the dim starlight, the trees may as well have been solid walls.  I couldn’t see anything outside of the small clearing.

Still glancing around, I went back to the sofa.  The gaudy vinyl purse sat in the exact middle of the couch.  The purse’s handle was up as if waiting for me to grab it.  I reached out for it, but hesitated with my fingers just inches away from the cracked strap.  My blood felt like ice water pumping through my heart.  I didn’t know why, but the purse terrified me.

“It’s yours.  Take it.”  It was my voice, speaking in my head, but it seemed to be a foreign thought.  As if someone was borrowing my voice and speaking directly to my mind. 

I shook my head, feeling paranoid, and snatched the purse.  I unfastened the snap and flipped back the flap.  I couldn’t see inside the purse in the dark, so I reached in to feel around.  There was something cold and metallic.  I pulled it out and gasped.  It was a pistol.  I gingerly set it down on the sofa, making sure the barrel was pointed away from me. 

There was more inside the purse, so I reached in and pulled the last three items out.  There was a key, a compact, and a wallet.  I opened the wallet and found a few hundred dollars in cash and a driver’s license.  The license belonged to a woman named Roberta Burgis.  There was something familiar about her face, but I couldn’t think of where I had ever seen her before.  I put the wallet back in the purse, and placed the purse down on top of the pistol.

I bounced the key on the palm of my hand and looked at the box at the edge of the trees.  Could this be the key to the padlock?

“Do you really want to look in there?” the voice-that-was-mine-but-not-really asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked.  “What’s inside?”

“Where did you get that dress?” the voice asked.

“I don’t know.  I just woke up wearing them.”

“Interesting that clothes that you’ve never seen before fit you perfectly.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Open the box.”

I crossed the clearing and stood in front of the box.  I tried the key in the lock, and it slid in with no effort.  When I turned the key, the lock popped open, and I took it out of the clasp.  The hinges squeaked as I opened the lid.

At first, all I could see was a white shape with dark splotches.  With a tentative hand, I reached and touched the white spot.  Some sort of thin fabric covered something firm and cold underneath.  I touched a dark spot and found that it was wet and sticky.  As I moved my hand away, something tickled the back of my hand.  I touched it and found what felt like hair.

Revulsion chocked me as I realized what was in the box.  I jumped away so violently that my hand caught on the edge of the box and tipped if over.  I tripped over a weed and fell on my butt as the dead body toppled out of the box at my feet.  I crawled backwards like a crab away from the dead woman until my back was against the back of the sofa.

The voice was laughing at me.  “Do you recognize her?” it asked.

My face was buried in my hands, so I couldn’t see the body.  I didn’t want to see the body.

“Look at her!” the voice insisted.  My hands dropped to my lap, and I stared wide-eyed at the body.  Her hair was covering her face as she laid there on her side.  She didn’t wear much.  Only an oversized white T-shirt and a pair of white panties not unlike what I had worn to bed.

No.  Not just “not unlike.”  They were exactly like the clothes I had worn to bed.  Had this woman and I changed clothes before she had died?  Why?  And who had killed her?

The voice laughed in my head.

I crawled slowly across the few feet separating me from the dead woman.  She looked to be my size, so that could explain why the dress fit me so well.  I wanted to look at her face.  Maybe she was Roberta Burgis, the owner of the red purse.

I reached out with a shaking hand.  I didn’t want to touch the body, but I needed to see her face.  I brushed the hair out of her face and bent over for a better look.

I screamed and retreated back to the couch.  It was impossible.  Impossible!  I reached over the back of the couch and grabbed the compact.  Fumbling it open with shaking hands, I looked at the small mirror.  Roberta Burgis’s frightened face stared back at me.

“No!”  I flung the compact into the trees.  “My name is Christine Jordan.  Christine Jordan!”

The voice laughed harder.

The face in the compact mirror hadn’t been the right one.  The face that should have been reflected back at me—my face—was on the dead woman behind me.

“My name is Christine Jordan!”

The voice laughed.

Ditch

I wrote this in 2003 for a contest that CBC Radio was holding.  It had to be 1000 words or fewer.  This is what I wrote.  It reflects and exaggerates my frustration at the time with the modern world and its demands for working long, unsatisfying hours because of our dependence on money and other material things. 

            The sun was about to break through the clouds and make my life a lot squintier.  I was hoping the cloud cover would last until I was done, but it wasn’t.  At least it wasn’t raining.  I’d rather be sun burnt and half blind than cold and soaked.  Maybe I could afford a cheap pair of sunglasses after this haul.  I gave my garbage bag a shake to gauge how full it was.  Hmm.  Not this time.  Maybe next week.

            I remember riding along the highway with my father when I was 12 years old.  When he was finished his drink, he rolled down my window and threw his empty plastic Coke bottle passed me and out into the ditch.  Being a child raised on Sesame Street, I brought up the issue of littering.  “I’m doing the rub-a-dubs a favour,” Dad explained.  “They pick up bottles out of ditches and exchange them for money.”  Rub-a-dubs.  That must be a term from the Maritimes, because I’ve only ever heard my parents say it, and they were raised out east.

            If only you could see me now, Dad!

            I smiled and bent over to pick up my latest find: a 2 litre pop bottle.  This would get me 20 cents.  Maybe my luck was changing, and I could get those sunglasses after all.

            I looked back over my shoulder to see how far I had come.  My van was just a small lump in the distance.  I paused to admire the view.  People who were new to the prairies found them dull and monotonous.  I loved them.  Big blue sky.  Fields of wheat bathing in the sun and waving in the wind for miles in all directions.   Contrasting this were the Rocky Mountains far off in the west shining bright in the newly risen sun.

            Perfectly content, I crossed the highway.  It was early in the morning, so there wasn’t much traffic.  I descended into the ditch on the southbound side of the road and headed back in the direction of my van.  I came across a discarded garbage bag and nudged it with my toe.  I heard the hollow rattle of cardboard.  Pay dirt!  I squatted down and opened the bag.  It was full of empty 1 litre juice cartons and used disposable dishes.  The remnants of a picnic, perhaps.  I transferred the juice cartons from this bag into my own.  Some people didn’t realize that these were returnable.  Either that, or they just didn’t care.  I didn’t mind; their ignorance was my dinner.

            When people see me, they assume that I’m either crazy, lazy, or both.  They’re wrong.  I’m not crazy.  I’ve been evaluated, and they told me that I’m fine.  I could’ve told them that myself, but my parents were sure that something was wrong with me.  I’m not lazy, either.  Apathetic, maybe, but not lazy.  Would a lazy person wake up before dawn and walk for hours through ditches collecting his income?  I received monthly welfare checks, but after student loan payments, auto insurance, and gasoline, not much was left over for cigarettes and decent food.

            The sun was climbing higher in the sky, forcing me to squint so much that my left eye was almost completely closed.  It made it difficult to see the bottom of the ditch.  Hopefully, I wouldn’t miss anything.

            Something sparkled in the grass at the side of the ditch.  I reached down and picked it up.  A beer bottle!  I seldom found these still in one piece.  When small-town kids got drunk, they seemed to feel the urge to break everything.  I slipped the rare find into my garbage bag and kept moving.

            Dad flipped when he found out that I dropped out of university and quit my part-time job.  What was I going to do with my life?  The answer to that question eluded him, but it was obvious to me.  I hated everything about university.  Classes bored me, stressed me, and took away all of my free time.  The administration pissed me off.  They charged me outrageous amounts of money and then treated me like dirt.  It was more a place of business than a place of learning.  And what was I going to do with a degree in finance?  Go into business like my father?  The thought of doing that for the rest of my life depressed me.  Sure, I would’ve made good money, but it would be doing something that I hate.  Who cares about money if I’m not enjoying myself?

            My life was virtually stress free now.  I had my van for transportation and shelter, and I had bottle collecting for money and something to do.  I loved going for long walks through the country in the morning.  It was beautiful, peaceful, and good exercise.  I usually stuck to secondary highways where traffic wasn’t quite as heavy.  Occasionally, if I needed some extra cash, I’d do odd jobs on a farm for a day.  I kept things simple.  What was I going to do with my life?  Exactly what I was doing now.  This was what I wanted.

            The sun glistened off a windshield in the distance.  The first car I had seen all morning was on its way from the south.  Someone heading off to Lethbridge to go to work, no doubt.  I kept walking serenely along the ditch looking for bottles.  The car was approaching fast.  It was going well over the speed limit.  I could hear the engine, and it sounded sleek and powerful.  I watched the car coming.  It looked like a luxury model.  Probably a highly paid businessman late for some tedious meeting.  It was very close to me now, and I stopped to watch it as it passed.  There was a loud pop as the front driver’s side wheel exploded.  At the speed he was going, he lost control of the car.  It veered off the road.  Right at me.

            At least I’m happy, I told myself.