"Toss me those space chips, Allen." I asked, dropping into the pilot's seat. Nolan snickered beside me, fiddling with the navigation system while Oliver stood off to the side, gnawing on his third protein bar of the day. The ship rumbled quietly to itself, stars streaking across the viewport like scattered glitter.
Mark paused his Gameboy. "This is eerie. It's like we're expecting something to happen." Tech Jacket simply shrugged as he polished his armor in the corner. I remained stoic, but I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Conquest wasn't coming. He was a vegetable. I had melted out his brain with my heat vision. As far as the Viltrumites knew, Conquest was getting the Earth ready for invasion. In reality, Cecil was using Conquest's body for practice.
"Easy there, Mark," I told him, tossing him a space-chip. "It's all in your mind. The long flights play with people's minds." I watched him catch it, still frowning. Nolan just nodded knowingly – if anyone understood the power of silence in space, it was him. Oliver floated over, leaving a trail of crumbs from his protein bar behind him. "Aye, bro," he caroled, "Sovereign's right. It's probably just… space madness."
I hunched over, trying to hide my grin. I had already made fast friends. Allen counted me as a battle-hardened ally. Nolan came to me with insights on Viltrumites. Even Tech Jacket was sharing designs with me. And none of them understood why. Every joke I made. Every sentence I uttered. My power. Like growing gills when submerged. Growing wings when in free-fall. My power let me connect as much as it let me survive and fight.
My fingertips strayed to the rough hair hanging over my upper lip. The mustache. Stubble during the first week. Something definite by the third. Nolan had said something once. Allen had just laughed. But that was it. I'd taken the laser razor from the ship yesterday morning, looked in the mirror that was the bulkhead… and then just walked away. My new look. In space. I'd almost chuckled. It was ironic that I was fighting Viltrumites with the exact emblem of what they were.
Allen stood and popped his knuckles, and the silence of the ship was once again the only sound. "Alright, pay attention," he boomed, and he smacked the monitor. "We're getting close to Talescria. We'll be landing… 37 minutes." I felt like I was going to be a happy man… dirt beneath my feet, fresh air in my lungs, maybe even a beer that wasn't made out of recycled piss. "Finally," I said, and I rubbed the creases between my eyes. "I think my butt's grown roots to the chair."
Mark blew a raspberry and paused the game. "What the fuck? Why didn't we fly? We'd have landed by the time Allen got into his third bag of space-chips." Oliver nodded enthusiastically to the right, spitting crumbs out. Nolan nodded very slowly, looking every inch the man who had endured one too many teenaged rants about the length of intergalactic flights.
"Cause," Allen snarled, slamming his fist on the viewport as Talescria's blue and green globe grew more desperate in the view, "not all of us enjoy twelve hours of pitch blackness in a row, kid. And cause," he rapped his hand affectionately against the console of the ship, "Old Bessie here has the best snack machine in three systems. You can't get that hurtling through an asteroid field." Jacket finally emerged from his polishing, his helmet glinting in the light of the planet. "He's got a point. My suit keeps me pretty comfortable, but even I enjoy having a seat that instead of navigating through space."
***
The landing was slow and smooth as we sank through the gravitational fields. Talescria the city-planet unfolded before us – a vast web of conductors. Crystal spires rose into the atmosphere and linked by glowing tubes, pulsed with antigravitational traffic. Roads flowed with streams of luminescent insects and complete sections shone with fluorescent plants whose hues changed like moodstones. "Home sweet home." Allen purred, a touch of conceit in his tone. Oliver pressed his face against the viewport, his eyes wide. "Gosh. looks like a rainbow shat in a computer!"
Allen steered Bessie into a massive docking bay, filled with vessels from a hundred planets — spiderlike cargo vessels, sleek Coalition fighters, a cumbersome Gargantian mining ship. The lock cycled, and the sudden rush of sound and smells — ozone, alien food, the quiet hum of a hundred engines — flooded in. The catwalks were patrolled by Coalition troops in streamlined body armor, their emblem emblazoned on their shoulders.
Nolan's eyes traversed the room, his body language transitioning into "analyze." "Nice," he said, pointing to the overlapping arcs of enfilading fire from the ceiling turrets. "They've beefed the security up some since my last... inspection."
Thaedus was waiting for us at the bottom of the ramp. That high-powered beard was even more absurd up close. "Omni-Man," he said with a slight bow to Nolan, then looked at me. "Sovereign. Nice work on Conquest." He stared at my 'stache for a second longer than he had to. I just grinned. "Needed to step up the fear factor, Thaedus. Beard envy?" Allen struggled to hold in a snicker.
Thaedus didn't even smile. "Come on," he growled, swiveling to head towards a series of shining transit tubes. "No time for small talk. The Viltrumites hit the Tarvaxian Rim yesterday." He led us towards the tubes, our footsteps ringing in the hard alien metal of the floor. Coalition troops saluted as we passed, and watched as Nolan and Mark went by.
Allen fell into step beside me, speaking quietly. "Tarvaxian Rim? That's inside Coalition space. That's bold." I nodded in agreement. Just because I killed Conquest didn't mean we had a free pass. Beside me, Nolan gritted his teeth. "How many casualties?" Thaedus didn't turn around. "Three colonies. Glassed. Few survivors."
Thaedus banked hard to the left, heading straight towards his office, as the implications of what he had just said sank like stones. "This is not going to be battle," Thaedus continued, not altering course. "It's a war. We're going to be in this for months."
Nolan growled. "Got it." Allen clenched his jaw and nodded. "What do you need from us?" Thaedus didn't stop flying. "I need you on the front lines. I needed you there yesterday."
He jerked a thumb towards the massive transport that was revving up on the next pad over, its maw open. "You are all the only thing we have that a Viltrumite's punch won't immediately reduce to a pulp. No briefing. Change on the way." Mark looked over at Oliver, but there was no time for worrying. There was only time to live.
But then the months all started to run together. Drop. Fight. Kill. Survive. Repeat. We raided a couple of colonies that were under attack: A smoky jungle, a blood-soaked ice planet, a glassy, ruined desert city. We watched thousands of Coalition foot soldiers die around us, valiant but helpless in the face of Viltrumite shock troops.
We killed. Oh God, we killed. Nolan cut through teams like they were paper. His face was a stoic mask of determination. Mark and Oliver fought with their backs to each other, developing an efficient brutality. Allen smashed his way through crowds with his enhanced strength. Tech Jacket's suit crackled and hummed as he mowed down bad guys by the dozen. Me? I smashed my fists into helmets. I sliced my lasers through skin. I subconsciously adapted my fighting technique in mid-punch to better fit the situation. I dodged incoming blaster fire before I even consciously realized that it was coming. We weren't saviors. We were mass-murderers.
I was… unlimited. There was no blow from any Viltrumite that I couldn't shake off after a few seconds. I could take a blast of plasma that would melt the steel plate off of Tech Jacket's back like it was going out of style, and it would just dissolve over my body as simple heat. Allen would struggle with lifting a destroyed Coalition ship off of his shoulders, but all I had to do was grab hold of the thing and just… flick it away like it was a tin can.
There was no poison in my blood, no spiritual agony akin to Kryptonite. I just had my power, pure and simple, ready to be unleashed on whatever came my way. I saw Nolan staring at me once, right after I stopped a Viltrumite's punch mid-swing and then squeezed until it was mush. He raised an eyebrow, clearly deep in thought, but he said nothing. He didn't have to. I wasn't Superman, holding back. I was Sovereign, built for this sort of thing.
Huddled around a weak campfire on a nameless asteroid base, we were huddled around, eating meals of nutrient paste that tasted faintly of melted plastic. Allen was eating like a robot. Nolan was staring into the fire, his eyes tired. Mark was playing with his ration pack, Oliver on his back, sleeping. Tech Jacket was carefully cleaning his shoulder cannon, getting rid of soot.
"Next rotation." Allen said, cleaning his mouth with his hand. "We're going back to the Rim. I've heard rumors they're going to be concentrating on…" His comms device blared, its red alert siren causing Oliver to jump. Allen ripped it from its clip, his face white as he listened.
"Say again?" he said in a strained voice. He looked up, his eyes wide with fear. "Talescria. They're attacking Talescria. Right now."
The return trip was a stomach-dropping nightmare. Bessie tore down the hyperspace lanes, protesting with every ounce of horsepower. Nobody was laughing, nobody was talking. The silence and the roaring growl of the ship as it strained against the acceleration were all there was.
Allen clutched at the controls, his knuckles white. Nolan stared out the window, his jaw clenched. Mark walked circles around the room, his nervous energy building.
Oliver's knuckles were white as well. T.J. double-checked all the guns. Me? I just sat in the chair, and started drumming my fingers on the armrest, and felt the old excitement starting to tingle under my skin. They were coming for my home. My new home.
We dropped out of FTL on Talescria. It wasn't the shining gem we'd departed. A dozen sectors were pouring out billows of smoke, dark stains in a bright neon sky. Plumes of energy fire erupted across the lower city like lightning. Even from inside the ship, you could faintly hear the sonic booms as Viltrumites broke the sound barrier.
"Bay's collapsed!" Allen roared, already wrestling the ship hard to port. "We're going out the front!" He punched the main hatch release, shooting the bolts explosively out of their sockets. The hatch thundered open, and then Allen hit the emergency atmospheric seal bypass.
No time for this. Nolan blasted off, his red streak heading right into the heart of the cacophony. Mark and Oliver right after, Oliver's red darting alongside Mark's blue and yellow. Allen released his grip on Bessie's stick and exploded off in his own blast of work. Tech Jacket roared to life and shot after him.
I was last, by a fraction of a second, feeling echoes of hits on the side of the ship I was still connected to. I thought trajectories, distances, vulnerable spots in the Viltrumite horde that I saw from my vantage point. Then I shifted. No whoosh, just a hot slap and a grab of air catching up. I passed Allen for a moment, matching his furious stride.
We descended into the maelstrom at the base of the Coalition Command Spire. The taste of ozone and molten steel and the metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air. Thaedus was a blur of desperation. His beard was singed, his uniform ripped and blackened. Kregg was enormous, his face twisted into a malevolent smile as he swatted Thaddeus' fists aside like they were nothing more than summer flies. Anissa was a specter, darting in with blistering speed to strike whenever Thaddeus dropped to his knees, her fists cracking the asphalt next to his ear. A line of blood trickled from a gash over Thaddeus' left eyebrow, his movements growing leaden. He was moments away from being torn in two.
"ALLEN! KREGG!" I growled, changing direction. Allen didn't even think about it, bellowing as he careened into Kregg like a human meteor, impacting the Viltrumite in mid-swing and sending him flying into, and then through, a ferrocrete wall. A huge cloud of dust and debris erupted. Nolan was busy with three at the bottom of the spire, Mark and Oliver helping him out. TJ's repulsors were lit up as he pinned a Viltrumite to a twisted, half-collapsed transit tube. Anissa's eyes flicked to Allen at the moment he struck, a brief flash of irritation crossing her face. That was my chance.
I undercut her, bashing my shoulder into her ribs, not giving her time to move. Whoof of wind going out. She steps back, eyes wide – surprised, then enraged. She slams a fist towards my temple, flash-lit-fast.
I roll my head to the side, the impact rippling through my hair. I kneed her in the stomach before she regained her feet. She folds, vomiting. Then my fist, cracking into her jaw and sending her stumbling back. She falls, slides in the rubble, gets up, rubbing the back of her hand across her lip. Her eyes are narrowed at me, reconsidering me. No longer any amusement. Pure calculation. Then there was a flicker of doubt. She didn't see it coming.
"You're strong," she said, and came around me in a wide arc. She took a step to my left and then swung her hand at my right, too fast for the eye to follow. I raised my arm and blocked the blow, my fingers slapping around her wrist. I felt the knuckles crack against the pads of my fingertips.
"Stronger," I said, and twisted, my wrist snapping her arm like a matchstick. She howled in pain and staggered back from me. I did not let her recover. My left fist swung into her belly, and she folded around it, lifted off the ground. She puked down her front, wide-eyed. I grabbed her broken arm and dragged her backward, and then flung her at the ferrocrete wall. The pavement creaked when she hit. She spat a stream of blood and tried to get to her feet. Conquest had been hard. This was… simple.
With her other arm, she struggled to free herself, gazing up at the air. She wanted to fly away. That was not an option. I brought my foot down on her wrist, and she cried out in agony as I crushed it amidst the rubble. "What's the big hurry?" I said, as I crouched down beside her. Her face was white with rage and pain. "You need to learn some loyalty." I punched her in the jaw, and her head jerked back, her eyes going white. She slumped to the ground, unconscious. I picked her up, much like I would a burlap sack of grain. Her broken arm hung limply in my grasp. One Viltrumite Princess... secured. Excellent.
Everything just... stopped. I don't know, it's hard to describe. It was like the sound of Tech Jacket reloading was the loudest thing we'd ever heard. Nolan was busy tearing a Viltrumite to pieces at the base of the spire, and paused mid motion, blood still flying everywhere. Mark had a soldier up against a twisted melted transit tube, ready to bring his fist down. He looked... and then simply let him go. The Viltrumite Mark was holding onto looked past him, surprised. Kregg howled from the rubble pile that Allen had buried him under, and just... stopped. The sonic booms above us stopped. The feeling of impending DOOM just... stopped. There was just the crackle of fires, and the moans of the dying.
Kregg launched himself out of the rubble, gasping, coughing. His eyes fell on Anissa hanging from my shoulders, her arm twisted and bent. He was furious. He didn't howl. He didn't leap forward. He simply launched himself up like a projectile and cut through the air with a sharp snap. Up into the Viltrumites.
"Shit," muttered Nolan, using a dirty word. "Regrouping," he grunted, scrubbing blood off his chin. Allen landed next to me, panting. He watched Kregg retreat. "Cowards," he spat, but relaxed a little. The immediate danger receded. We have won… for now.
Thaedus hobbled over to us, holding his side. He wasn't looking at Kregg's fleeing form, or Anissa lying on the ground. He was looking at a little amphibious Coalition soldier trying to disappear into the wall next to a destroyed communications terminal. The soldier twitched under Thaedus's gaze.
"You." Thaedus croaked, his voice strained with pain and betrayal. He didn't shout. The whispered accusation hurt more. "Commander Vek. Intel Oversight." Vek twitched, bulging eyes wide with fear. Thaedus didn't need evidence. The attack being coordinated like this, the strike on Command being so precise… it reeked of an inside job. "Why?" Thaedus wheezed, the word heavy as lead.
Vek crumpled, his usually smooth skin paling. "They… they showed me," he stammered, shaking fingers pointing feebly towards the sky. "The fleets. The reserves. Even if you win here, even if you manage to kill Kregg… they'll just fall back to Viltrum." He shuddered, a wet clicking noise falling out of his mouth. "Then they'll come back. Not with shock troops. With everything. The entire Empire. Talescria… the Coalition… nothing but dust." His voice fell to a terrified whisper. "We can't survive. Zero. I just… wanted to live."