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The Rebellious Three
Part 1
Aerater planetary surface, rebel base, Citadel outskirts
Rex sat down in a hidden room under the forest floor and tweaked the radio, searching for any available broadcasts. Several days had passed since the communications relay was destroyed, and looking up, its wreckage was still visible through the planet’s atmosphere. GalCop hastily formed a blockade to ensure the area’s safety, and when they were satisfied, they warped a backup relay into the system. It was nowhere near as powerful as the original, but it was able to re-establish communications between the nearby systems.
Once he heard that the relay became operational, Rex immediately left to listen for any news. He never heard from David Redman, Lieutenant Taylor, or his team after he sent them up to the relay to search for information, but judging by the massive ruins that drifted above, he no longer expected to. Still, he wanted to know what happened. How far did they get? Did they succeed? Did they get the data? No moves were made against Tara Harmon, Aerater’s self-proclaimed ruler, so Rex was worried. After all, this was the whole point of finding that file, which may or may not even exist.
The radio began squawking as he passed a station and he adjusted the frequency to listen. It was a news report, being broadcasted from Tioranin.
“Breaking news: the manhunt for galactic terrorist David Redman is over. The former leader of Atbevete was shot down in the Tioranin system, and investigators have just confirmed that his remains were recovered from the wreckage. Redman was a rising political figure and was extremely popular with citizens from multiple systems, notably the people of Tioranin, Atbevete, Teraed, Rigeti and Aerater. He was recognized for his significant accomplishments towards galactic peace and safety, however, due to his recent actions, the systems announced that they feel much safer with him gone. For those of you unfamiliar with his anarchistic acts, he was responsible for the murder of two GalCop officers and two personal bodyguards, the attempted assassination of Aerater leader Tara Harmon, theft of a Cobra Mk I, collaborating with rebels and bombing a communications relay which claimed numerous innocent lives.
“His accomplice, ex-lieutenant Taylor, received a formal burial today, despite the fact that nobody was able to provide any evidence of her death. The disgraced officer was corrupted by Mr. Redman and she helped him throughout his terrifying rampage. She assisted his escape from GalCop custody, where she assaulted her fellow officers and civilians in the process, then arrived at Aerater where she disappeared. Citizens were in shock by the funeral, a vocal majority displaying outrage to the service and delivering verbal abuse to its organizers. A GalCop representative stated: ‘Anybody, anybody who served as a part of GalCop is entitled to a proper burial, no matter the circumstances.’ A citizen responded with: ‘I don’t care who she was, what she did was atrocious. Anyone who did what she did doesn’t deserve it, and the fact that she got one anyways, disgusts me.’ The grave has already been vandalized, and while GalCop is looking for possible suspects, the officer we interviewed admits it’s not a very high priority case.”
The reporter paused, switched to another piece of news, and continued.
“In related news, tensions are rising in space above Aerater and Rigeti. Hate attacks against GalCop have reached a breaking point, and forces have been ordered to withdraw from the systems and retreat to Tioranin. Tioranin’s leader, Jeremy Ross, issued the command, believing that due to the actions of Redman, that a retreat is the only way to prevent a war between the three systems, and that GalCop presence there would have to be suspended indefinitely. The first ships have already reached Tioranin, and are preparing to increase the system’s defenses if an attack does arrive.”
Rex switched off the radio, shaking his head. This was all wrong. Somehow, Tara found out what they were doing and managed to dodge the situation, even throwing all the blame at David. With renewed determination, he stood to leave, resolving to find another way to take her down.
***
Rigeti, system space
The bridge was bustling with activity as crew ran from station to station, checking readouts and yelling to each other as they relayed information. Alert lights slowly pulsed in the operators’ faces and repeatedly basked the area in a deep red glow. Past the giant windshield, ships darted around in a deadly dance and laser fire streaked by in a spectacular lightshow. There was never a lull in the battle, and the chatter continued in a steady crescendo.
“Additional bogeys, ten plus hostiles approaching at two o’clock!”
“Diverting formations Charlie three and five to engage.”
“Negative, Charlie three and five are covering the left flank.”
“Bravo two, four and five have been confirmed KIA.”
“Alpha three and Charlie one are taking heavy casualties, merging formations under call sign Alpha three.”
“Front flank collapsing!”
“Scrambling formations Bravo two and three to reinforce front flank.”
The captain spoke into the emergency GalCop channel. “Mayday, mayday, this is GalCop behemoth Steel Jury, we’re taking fire and are suffering heavy casualties, need immediate support, over.”
The reply came mere seconds later. “Steel Jury, this is Aerater blockade command, responding to your mayday call.”
The captain breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re under attack in the Rigeti system, pirates and rebels have us surrounded. Send backup.”
“Negative, Steel Jury. Rigeti and Aerater have orders for a full, system-wide retreat. No distress calls will be attended to. Fall back to Tioranin, we’re regrouping there.” They ended communications.
“I don’t believe this.” muttered the captain. He spoke with authority as he addressed the bridge. “Scramble all remaining formations! We’re not losing to any lawless scum.”
At his command, dozens of GalCop Vipers burst out of the hangar and quickly jumped into the fray. The pilots formed a defensive bubble around the behemoth, engaging countless enemy ships as they did their best to hold them back. The behemoth’s gunners fired the ship’s broadside cannons at the swarm of enemies and picked off lone fighters trying to slip around the dogfights. With their combined effort, they were able to repel the hostile ships, but the Vipers were steadily being pushed back.
“There’s too many! They’re slipping past our fighters!”
“Blast them with our cannons!” ordered the captain, as if the words would magically perfect the gunners’ aim.
“They’re too close, we can’t get a good shot.” a crew member gasped in between coordinating the cannon operators.
“They’ve entered the hangar! We’re being boarded!”
“Get security teams to lock it down. Now!” said the captain. “I want those bastards off my ship.”
Squads of troops sprang into action as they marched towards the hangar, ‘Enforcer’-style weapons in hand. They ran straight into the cluster of pirates and rebels that poured out of the hangar, and a firefight swiftly broke out between the two groups. The ship’s hallways were blackened by gunfire, and the troops stuck to the walls to hide behind what little cover was available. Combatants from both sides began to fall.
While the crew of the Steel Jury was focused on repelling their invaders, the fight in space slipped to the back of their minds. Vipers were hounded by dozens of enemy ships each, and one by one they exploded into clouds of fire and scrap metal. With the Vipers’ numbers rapidly declining, more hostile ships entered the cramped hangar and their pilots quickly joined the ranks of their fellow resistance fighters.
The captain knew the battle outside was lost, and now they needed to fight to keep the ship out of pirate hands. Gunfire, shouts and battle chatter echoed to the bridge, and it was slowly getting louder with every passing moment.
“Defensive positions!” said the captain, while he reached for a nearby Enforcer shotgun.
The crew left their consoles and took up whatever arms were on the bridge. They passed around a limited arsenal of pistols and a couple submachine guns, but the majority of the crew were left with nothing, and were forced to hide as far away from the door as possible. The noises outside stopped and a heavy silence fell over the room. The crew kept their weapons aimed at the entrance, hovering nervously as they braced for whatever might charge through.
Suddenly the mob surged through into the bridge. The first few were instantly gunned down by the anxious crew as they unleashed an uncontrolled wave of rounds, but the boarders recovered quickly and returned fire in response. The unqualified crew members were no match for their combat-seasoned attackers, and they were rapidly dispatched with ruthless ease. But the captain wasn’t done yet.
He flicked his shotgun to lethal, took aim at his opponents and squeezed the trigger. He released a spray of rounds at the densely packed group of enemies and a chunk of them fell. The captain fired another blast at the oncoming crowd but they kept their distance, concentrating on the captain to prevent him from firing at them again. He ducked behind a station in the middle of the bridge to shelter himself from the blasts, and pointed the shotgun blindly towards the entrance of the bridge. He felt a flicker of satisfaction when he heard several cries of pain as shots hit their mark.
The rebels and pirates split themselves into two groups, attacking the captain by approaching the sides of the console. He saw one group and fired another blast, but was unaware of the others behind him until they began firing at his exposed back. His body slumped to the floor, the life long gone as the invaders swept the rest of the bridge and ship to clean out any remaining resistance. Once they were finished, they let out cheers of victory and celebration as they stood in their newly claimed prize.
***
Aerater planetary surface, rebel base, Citadel outskirts
Fire.
That was the first thing Jacob Moreno smelled as he walked out from the underground room. Ash, smoke and gunfire was heavy in the air and their scent hung over the forest, completely overpowering the natural odour of the woods. The trees glowed an ominous orange as flames licked their way upwards, and the smoke that bellowed out produced a grey smog that descended on the clearing. The flames crackled loudly as the forest combusted, and some of the trees collapsed when their trunks were burned away. People, shouting and screaming, pushed past him as they attempted to flee towards safety.
Gunshots pierced through the commotion, the noise punctuating through the air in a furious staccato. Jacob heard engines wail as ships, shrouded through the dense treetops, streaked towards the base then flew away. Moments after they passed, explosions erupted around the clearing as their payloads impacted on the surface and left fresh craters in their wake. Rebels were posted in defensive positions around the ridge of the field, lying prone as they fired into the smoke at advancing attackers. Jacob’s hands gripped the Renegade rifle slung around his shoulder and ran towards the perimeter. He approached a rebel with binoculars and a radio who was directing the nearby troops.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack!” replied the rebel.
“No shit.”
“It’s Tara Harmon. Her forces have us surrounded. They just came out of nowhere and started attacking, from the ground and the air.”
“How’d they find us?”
The rebel shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But they’re hammering us hard, and I think we need to evacuate.”
Jacob looked around. The rebels were working in their own little groups and trying their best to defend the base, but they were scattered and uncoordinated.
“Where’s Rex?” he asked.
“Don’t know. Nobody’s seen him since before the attack.”
“We won’t last long if we’re fighting like this. I’ll find him. You try to rally the others, get them to organize our defences.”
The rebel nodded and they parted ways. Jacob ran into the ruins, looking for Rex. He checked the seemingly abandoned structures, the lifeless bodies on the ground and weaved through the fleeing people, checking their faces too. He didn’t see Rex until they almost ran into each other.
“Rex! Where’ve you been?” Jacob demanded.
“I’ve been listening to broadcasts.” he stated.
Jacob was taken aback by his response. He didn’t expected that for an answer. “Look, we need you here. This is important.”
“I know.” said Rex. “Something’s gone wrong. There’s more going on than what Redman and Taylor knew.”
“What? The politician and the GalCopper? I wasn’t talking about them! No, look around: we’re under attack!”
“Listen,” said Rex, ignoring him, “after they left us, they went up to the relay, but escaped the explosion. I know because Redman’s body was recovered in the Tioranin system. I’m assuming they found the data and left to bring Harmon to justice, but something went wrong, and now Taylor’s missing and Redman was killed. It should’ve been simple: deliver the data and take Harmon down. That didn’t happen, so this has to be more complex than we thought.”
A thought hit Jacob. “Do you know what this means? That’s how she found out where we were. Redman and Taylor led her right to us! They weren’t on the run from her, they were working with her. She must have killed them to cover up her tracks and made sure they kept quiet.”
“I need to find out more. I need to get that data.” said Rex absently.
“Rex, wake up. We’re under attack!” Jacob repeated. “We need to buy ourselves some time so we can load up the evac ships.”
An explosion detonated nearby and the ground beneath them rumbled.
“No, I need to go. I have to get to the bottom of this. Keep them off me.”
Jacob was stunned. “What? You’re just going to go? Leave us behind?”
“I have to. This is bigger than any of us.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Call it a gut feeling.” and then he was gone, disappearing behind the mass of people and the ongoing battle before Jacob could reply.
Jacob cursed at nobody in particular, and ran back to the rebel to tell him what was happening. Approaching the perimeter, he found the rebel lying on the ground, blackened and singed next to a fresh crater. Jacob cursed again, then quickly checked to see how the other rebels were doing. They were losing ground and Tara’s forces were starting to spill over the ridge and into the clearing. The overhead foliage was gone, and the bombers were given a clear line of sight at the rebel encampment. The dropped their ordinance with devastating accuracy, wiping out groups of armed and unarmed rebels.
Jacob raised the rifle and joined his fellow rebels in battle. They picked off the approaching enemy soldiers while they formed a defensive circle, but were slowly retreating towards the centre of the field. Each step back meant one less to manoeuver, and soon enough, they were practically standing shoulder to shoulder. Tara’s forces were close and the bombers stopped their attack, careful to avoid risking friendly fire. The flames still surrounded the clearing, and to the desperate rebels, the oncoming soldiers, dressed in ragged cloth and menacing battle-worn armour, looked like they were sent from the depths of hell.
Jacob snapped from target to target, determined to take down as many as he could before they got him. Adrenaline surged through his veins, fueling him, and his actions were governed by instinct. Take aim, pull the trigger, kill the enemy, move to the next. Aim, pull, kill, next. Aim, pull, kill, next.
A shot intended for an adjacent rebel tore through Jacob’s gun and slammed into his shoulder. The weapon exploded in his hands and shrapnel from the rifle and the incoming bolt burrowed into his flesh. The impact lifted him off his feet and spun him around like a top before he collapsed to the ground in agony. His shoulder felt like it was on fire. The pain was searing and pulsating, and it clamped his brain, his thoughts, his mind, drowning out everything.
There were only a dozen rebels left. Rounds whizzed by and rebels were knocked down within seconds of the other. There was no way they could fight their way out. Like dominoes they fell, lifeless to the floor, until there was only one left standing. He was spouting taunts and bravado between bursts of gunfire as the enemy inched closer.
“Come on! Is that all you’ve got!? Bring it! I can do this all day. Come on you bastards! I’ll never back down!”
A shot buried itself in his gut, silencing him and he collapsed to the ground. With nobody left to fight, Tara’s forces spread out through the clearing. The place was suddenly very quiet except for the crackling of fire and the crunching of boots on the forest floor.
Jacob heard a soft moan and ragged breathing. He turned to the source and saw the rebel not dead but injured, and was shifting in pain. In his peripherals, he saw soldiers approaching towards the noise as well.
“Hey.” He hissed as softly as possible. The rebel turned to look. Don’t move. Play dead. Jacob mouthed. Neither of them budged.
The soldiers were right next to them and were examining the bodies. They were methodical, checking each one and gave the face-down corpses a strong kick to flip them over. Soldiers were approaching both the rebel and Jacob and he tried his best too act dead. His body went limp and his eyes gazed blankly into the distance. The rebel tried too, but was unable to keep up the façade. He convulsed as a wave of pain radiated from his stomach.
A nearby soldier instantly turned his weapon on the rebel. His eyes stared at Jacob, widening in panic and he opened his mouth to scream or shout. Before he could do either, the soldier jammed the barrel of his gun into the side of the rebel’s head and fired. His eyes rolled back and his jaw went slack while blood and bone sprayed out of the wound.
Jacob couldn’t do anything. He didn’t dare. The soldiers were only an arm’s length away and he had to keep pretending. He’d been staring at the rebel and was sprawled on the ground motionless, and so he was forced to watch the whole execution. He forced his eyelids open and kept staring while he witnessed the rebel’s life be violently extinguished.
The rest was a blur. The soldiers finished their check and scavenged whatever resources they found at the base to bolster their own arsenal. When they were gone, Jacob picked himself off the ground and roughly made a sling for his wounded arm. He stumbled out of the forest, passing three of the four Asps the rebels had, now in flaming ruins, and he absently made the connection that Rex must’ve taken one to leave.
He wandered off into the wasteland, images from the raid the only thing keeping him company.