The Frihet Rebellion

The Sklalen battleship led just over five hundred Frihet ships out of the Raga system. They headed towards the Traversable Wormhole that would take them to within a few days’ sailing of Earth. A small number of ships from other planets in the system joined them as they passed. More would not be committed by worlds who had already lost many during the two battles with the Earth fleet.

The Sklalen battleship was crewed by automated systems and AI pods. Saul and Jon were the only living creatures on board.

Ameridian followed in the formation. Sumner and his crew still ran the ship, but a small group of Frihet soldiers, led by Karl, had been assigned there. The soldiers were to be deployed when the fleet reached Earth, but Sumner suspected they had also been instructed to watch the crew on the journey. Ameridian was, after all, an Earth naval ship. A certain level of distrust was to be expected.

Behind Ameridian, slowly maneuvering into line, the rest of the fleet prepared to enter the narrow wormhole.

On Frihet, many watched the fading stars of the last of the fleet leaving visible range. Husbands, wives, lovers, siblings. Much of Frihet had people they cared about in the fleet, and none could be sure when, or even if, they would see them again. The mood over the planet was not one of the celebration of war, but a somber mood of loss and fear.

Princess Thalor stayed with Bryant for much of the time, in a room made ready for him under her personal guidance. They received up-to-date reports and, sometimes, live feeds via the Princess’s HUD. Although they were learning much about each other, and growing closer with each moment, their mood was also muted. So much rested on this expedition. They could only hope that Saul’s contacts were correct, and the thirst for rebellion was high through the colonies, and on Earth itself.

Sumner followed Karl from the bridge on one of the few times the Frihet left that seat of operations.

“I get the feeling you don’t trust us,” he said, hurrying to catch the Frihet soldier.

Karl turned. His face was impassive, but his eyes raged.

“You are Earthmen. This is an Earth ship. No, I don’t trust you. Not until you earn it.”

“I can understand your doubt,” said Sumner, his voice reasonable, as close to charming as he was able. “But we did bring your Princess back to you.”

“You did,” said Karl. “I’m grateful for that. But you also took her away in the first place.”

“There were others behind that. I didn’t steal her from the Palace. That man was killed on this ship. I fed his dust to the stars myself.”

“I have heard the stories from others,” said Karl. “But I need more before I can feel trust in you.”

The trust angle isn’t going to work, thought Sumner. But I can still get what I want.

“You like your Princess?” he said.

“Of course,” said Karl, keeping his voice steady.

“I mean, more than just as your ruler. You like her as a woman. I can tell. I’ve seen you look at her.”

“Be careful, Earthman,” said Karl, his hand falling to the butt of the firearm in the holster at his belt. “Be very careful what you say.”

He’s got it bad, thought Sumner. This is better than I hoped.

“I was not suggesting anything untoward,” he said. “Please accept my apologies if it seemed that way. But it does seem to me as if we have a common enemy. The Earthman, Bryant Johnson.”

Karl’s eyes burned at the name. It was all he could do to hold his rage inside.

“Johnson,” he said, his voice low, growling. “Yes, Johnson is my enemy.”

“Mine too,” said Sumner, trying not to grin. “It must be hard for you, seeing the Princess with an Earthman like that, instead of with a good Frihetian, like yourself perhaps?”

“Johnson has done something to her, I’m sure,” said Karl. “He has somehow put her under his spell. Won her over with lies.”

“It’s how he operates,” said Sumner. “He’ll use her for what he wants and then leave. Believe me. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“Not this time,” said Karl, clenching his fists. “Not to my Princess.”

“I can only hope you won’t be too late by the time we return,” said Sumner.

“Then we must deal with Earth quickly and decisively. We must not waste time.”

Sumner smiled as Karl turned on his heel and marched away down the corridor.

“That should brew nicely,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep it stirred, and we’ll see what happens when we get back to Frihet.”

He was laughing softly to himself as he returned to the bridge.

“I am certain Bryant Johnson will find it in himself to forgive you,” said Saul, as he watched the control panels in front of him. “Much was forgotten the moment Spearhead was mentioned.”

“I know,” said Jon. “Perhaps it will take me longer to forgive myself. Bryant is a good man. I am not so sure about me.”

“You are a good Sklalen,” said Saul. “You have proved that by following The Plan as you did.”

“Humans do not have the same sense of being honor-bound as we do,” said Jon. “Perhaps centuries ago, but not now.”

Saul sat back in his seat.

“What did you think of the dynamic between your friend and the Princess?” he said.

“There is a mutual appreciation, or perhaps attraction is the better word in human terms,” said Jon. “Bryant has always had a way with human females.”

“I feel it goes deeper than that, or will in time,” said Saul. “I would worry less about his forgiveness, and more about whether you will fit into his life with the Princess in it.”

“We have Spearhead, or will have once it is raised from the sea bed where you put it.”

“I have already explained my reasons. Spearhead needed to be out of the battle for Frihet to win.”

“It is fortunate you have this battleship, so do not need Spearhead on this particular expedition,” said Jon, a little sulkily.

“If I did not have this battleship, I would not have been able to hole Spearhead in the first place, and Earth would have already won,” said Saul. “When this is over, I will help you retrieve Spearhead, and yes, I believe it is the one thing that will always be yours and Bryant’s, regardless of his relationship with the Princess.”

Jon relaxed back into his own seat, smiling. He had confidence in this battleship, and now he felt more confident in his reconciliation with Bryant. It would be good to return to Frihet in victory.

The fleet encountered their first Earth ships, a small force of fifty light cruisers, as they approached the Kuiper Belt on the edge of the Solar System. Ameridian and Frihet ships engaged the cruisers near the ellipsoid dwarf planet Haumea, while the Sklalen battleship continued on its course towards Earth, missiles and blasters bursting harmlessly on its shields.

It passed through the orbits of Neptune and Uranus, drawing only minor and ineffectual fire. As it passed Saturn, however, huge discs of light rolled up at them from installations on the moons Titan and Rhea. Each disc exploded with a bright flash against the shields. No damage was done to the ship itself.

“They are throwing their heavy armaments at us,” said Jon. “It is no problem for us, but it might be different for the ships following.”

“Agreed,” said Saul.

Moving his fingers over the targeting screen before him, he tracked the laser missiles back to their origin. The Matter Disrupter fired for brief seconds at each source, destroying the facilities and eating a hole into the ground beneath.

Behind them, Ameridian and the Frihet ships had entered the Solar System, leaving the crushed hulks of the Earth light cruisers drifting in space.

“I am hearing reports of rebellions on several colonial planets,” said Jon, as they continued their inexorable progress. “Even here in the Solar System. The largest Mars base has been taken over by the HLA. Several orbiting space stations have also fallen, including two of those around Earth itself.”

Saul nodded. “It is as predicted. When that news spreads, there will be more.”

The Sklalen battleship slowed, allowing the rest of the fleet to re-form around it.

As they drew nearer to Earth, they faced less and less resistance. One after another, Earth ships mutinied, swearing their allegiance to the rebel cause.

“There was never much loyalty in the Earth navy,” said Sumner to Karl, as they stood on the bridge of Ameridian. “The President rules almost exclusively through fear, not through leadership or popular policies.”

“And with this fleet’s arrival in the Solar System,” said Davison. “That fear has gone.”

“Are there any loyal to the President?” asked Karl. “Or will they all turn to our side?”

“There’ll be some,” said Sumner. “There are those fanatics who see him as their President, right or wrong. But they’re in the minority. The President’s own guard will stick with him, and, I would think, a close group of military commanders. But they’ll all be gathering around the Presidential Palace and the President himself.”

“Meaning there’ll be less opposition out here,” said Karl. “It should be over quickly. Then we can return to Frihet.”

And I can deal with that other problematic Earthman, Bryant Johnson.

As well as the Earth ships that had switched allegiance to the rebels, there were others that, rather than choose a side, had headed out into space, away from the conflict. Only a small number remained loyal to the President Deaton, and they now hung above the Presidential Palace. They crowded the sky like great, heavy storm clouds, casting their shadows on the buildings below.

“They leave themselves no room to maneuver,” said Saul, as the Sklalen battleship approached. “They cannot fight a true battle in such close proximity to each other.”

“I do not think they wish to fight a true battle,” said Jon, studying the screen image before him. “It is a blockade, a barrier to stop us reaching the Palace. Or at least to slow us down.”

“There is no point. Eventually we will blast our way through. They will achieve nothing.”

Jon thought of what he knew about President Deaton. What he had seen for himself, and what he had heard in rumor.

“They will achieve exactly what the President has ordered of them,” he said grimly. “They will provide enough of a delay for him to escape.”

“Then we must waste no time in breaking through,” said Saul. “Call the most powerful of our fleet forward. I will use the Matter Disrupter to punch a hole in the blockade, but I need help to destroy the others.”

Ameridian and twenty Frihet ships maneuvered themselves alongside the Sklalen battleship.

Saul fired the Matter Disrupter.

The ships in the center of the blockade simply disappeared, flickering into non-existence as the Disrupter hit them. Those on the periphery of the two-hundred foot hole found parts of their ships gone. Automatic systems air-locked the broken areas, isolating them, along with any crew stranded there. Unable to maintain control, and looking as though some huge animal had taken a bite out of them, seven battleships spiraled towards the Earth, burning up on re-entry into the atmosphere. Large pieces of wreckage crashed into the Palace buildings and grounds below.

The remaining battleships in the blockade opened fire with their topside cannons. Unable to turn in the tightness of the blockade, they could not bring any other weapons into play. The cannon-fire sparked ineffectively off the shields of the Sklalen battleship, and caused minimal damage to several Frihet ships.

The Frihet fleet returned fire with their most powerful beam and cannon weapons. Explosions rippled across the blockade, spinning hardware and bodies into space.

Not waiting to see the full destruction, the Sklalen battleship dived through the hole opened up by the Matter Disrupter, followed by Ameridian and two Frihet ships.

The Palace buildings were already heavily damaged as Saul turned the Matter Disrupter onto the main building. He contained its power to open a twenty-foot wide hole in the roof, penetrating no further inside.

“Speed is vital,” he said to Jon. “I feel certain you were correct in your assumption. The President will be trying to escape.”

Shuttles dropped from the Sklalen battleship, Ameridian and the Frihet ships. All but one hovered over the holed Palace roof, soldiers rappelling down through the hole and into the Palace. Only the Sklalen shuttle, piloted by Jon, landed on the roof itself, as Jon lacked the expertise, or desire, to rappel anywhere. Deploying a rope ladder, he quickly joined the others as they began a sweep through the corridors of the enormous building complex.

Karl led a contingent of his own men from Ameridian. He moved quickly, and with grim ruthlessness, through the building, killing any who stood or strayed in his way. The gunfire was loud and frequent.

Jon, following slightly behind, was sickened by the bloodied and often dismembered bodies he stepped over. Many were obviously unarmed, few wore any military garb at all. They were administrators, office workers, civilians hired to work in the Palace. Non-combatants. Innocent victims. To Jon’s mind, Karl and his soldiers were committing murder. He almost cried with sorrow, anger and frustration at being unable to stop the slaughter.

Saul’s voice in his mind distracted him, momentarily, from the carnage.

“Next intersection, take the left corridor,” said Saul. “I am detecting a small ship’s engines on an elevated landing pad in that direction. I believe it could be the President.”

Jon acknowledged the message and hurried ahead. By the time he reached the intersection, Karl and his murderous troop had already been through, evidenced by the trail of blood and bodies they left. They had ploughed straight on, heading towards the President’s private quarters. Jon did not believe that the man would be there. President Deaton was a coward. He would run. And Saul’s detection of engines suggested where he would run to.

Jon took the left corridor as instructed and, finally away from the bloodlust of the Frihetians, picked up his speed, drawing his own weapon as he went.

President Deaton, Bentley and General Kyger could hear the gunfire echoing through the Palace corridors. It came from some distance away, near the President’s private quarters.

“You’re certain the ship is ready,” said the President, his voice trembling with fear.

How has it gone wrong so quickly? Why have my people turned on me? They feared me, but surely they loved me too?

“I made certain of it myself, Mr. President,” said Kyger.

So many of the troops under his command had rebelled, mutinied, but he remained loyal. He had helped put this President into power. He was not going to abandon him now.

“Bentley, the money?” said the President, turning an anxious look on his advisor.

“Safely hidden away in anonymous accounts throughout the systems, Mr. President,” said Bentley, his voice as calm and smooth as ever. “I have the necessary access codes with me.”

And I’m keeping hold of them, he thought. They are my guarantee that you will not abandon me at the last moment. I am not a fool, and I’m going to come out of this mess alive!

All three hurried through a long, narrow corridor, largely unvisited by the Palace staff. It led to a small, private landing pad used exclusively by the President’s personal shuttle, and, even then, only for non-official trips. Kyger had left the shuttle and its pilot ready to take-off, before returning for the President and the ever-present Bentley.

Behind them, Kyger heard running footsteps.

“Someone’s following,” he said. “Mr. President, you keep going for the shuttle. I’ll take care of our unwelcome guest.”

President Deaton did not argue, nor did he suggest they would wait for Kyger if they got to the shuttle before he had finished. There was only one life Deaton was interested in saving, and that was his own.

Kyger drew his sidearm, a semi-automatic handgun of ancient, but proven, design. He had no other weapons with him, but he was confident it would be enough.

He opened fire as soon as Jon came into sight.

Jon reacted with a Sklalen’s exaggerated speed, ducking and dodging. The bullets scoured the corridor walls and floor, but did not hit their intended target.

The alien from Spearhead, thought Kyger, hesitating, confused.

The reports from the fleet had said Spearhead had been destroyed in the battle around Frihet.

What is the creature doing here? And whose side is he on?

Jon, seeing the hesitation from Kyger, raised his own weapon and fired.

The first bullet hit Kyger in the shoulder, forcing him to drop his gun and stagger backwards.

The second bullet punched into his stomach.

Third and fourth slammed into his chest, and he fell.

Jon jumped over the body of General Kyger. He increased his pace, pushing himself, running much faster than any human was capable of. He had to reach the President before he escaped!

A final bend in the corridor and it opened out onto the pad, over a mile above the Palace grounds.

The small shuttle roared its engines, preparing for takeoff.

As Jon skidded to a stop on the polished surface of the pad, he saw President Deaton climbing aboard the shuttle, with Bentley close behind him.

“Mr. President!” shouted Jon, raising his weapon.

Bentley looked back, saw Jon aiming at him, and panicked.

Desperate to get aboard the shuttle before Jon opened fire, he grabbed at the President and tried to pull him backwards. He pulled and tugged with surprising strength for a man of his age. Deaton, shocked by the sudden attack, and with muscles weak from fear, fought to hold on to the shuttle doorway. With a final jerk, Bentley dragged the younger man clear.

Deaton stumbled and fell as Bentley clambered aboard the shuttle.

Unaware of the struggle, and at a command from Bentley, the shuttle pilot closed the access door and launched, speeding at a steep angle for the sky and the stars.

“No!” screamed the President, his voice breaking with desperation as he looked after the retreating shuttle, reaching out as though he could pull it back with his hands. “Noooo!”

He sat back on the ground, sobbing. Shakily, he looked at Jon, who still stood a little way off, his weapon raised.

“I surrender to you,” he said, his voice weak. “I’m in your custody.”

Slowly he climbed to his feet, edging towards Jon with his hands raised. He glanced towards the landing pad’s edge and the mile drop beyond, careful not to get too close. The height of the pad, and the lack of safety fencing, which was impractical for shuttle landings and takeoffs, had always worried him.

Jon said nothing, but kept his weapon raised, watching the President carefully.

“It’s your responsibility, as my captor, to protect me from those Frihet thugs in there,” said the President, his voice growing a little calmer. Although he had never liked or trusted Jon, the President knew the alien had a sense of justice and honor. He was safer surrendering to him than to the Frihet soldiers, or even his own mutinous navy.

Jon, saying nothing, his face calm and untroubled, fired.

President Deaton stumbled backwards, his hand pressing against the wound in his stomach, seeping blood through his clothes, his fingers. He stared at Jon incredulously.

He shot me! But how? Why? He shot me!

Jon thought of Bryant, he thought of the Princess, he thought of the millions who had died under Deaton’s regime, and in the subsequent rebellion. He thought of the contract that had been signed for his execution upon Spearhead’s return.

He pulled the trigger one more time.

The bullet punched a neat hole in President Deaton’s forehead, and cracked open the skull at the back as it exited in a bloody fan of gore.

Deaton, a look of surprise on his face, fell backwards, tumbling over the edge of the landing pad, twisting and turning on his mile journey to the hard, unforgiving ground.