On a moon not that far from Europa a man pressed a button.
On Europa Sakara heard a voice in his mind, a voice that was his own.
“Kill them.”
Even as this thought crossed his mind, a plan formulated.
He would sabotage the fission reactor that powered the colony as well as poison the shrimp farms. This complete he would then leave the colony via the spire and plant explosives to destroy the lifts, cutting the colony off from the world outside and from its resources. The colony would soon collapse as the air ran out along with the power, suffocating the monsters inside.
No, he would help the Tor’Karians by shielding the fusion core of the relay station and save the lives of the remaining survivors.
The monsters should pay for what they have done though. He would follow his initial plan and wipe them out, and then he would kill any remaining survivors to cover up the attack.
He stopped. These were not his thoughts.
“Kill them.” said the voice in his head.
He refused.
“Kill them.” repeated the voice.
He shut his eyes and screamed defiance with his mind.
Something at the base of his brain cracked.
The voice stopped.
He pulled himself off the floor where he had fallen and looked around. The Tor’Karianswere still enduring the pulse.
He knew what he had to do.
Last year a group of scientists had found a new wave emitted by both fusion cores and stars which seemed to have an effect on the mind of people nearby and some strong psychics felt a feeling similar to pain. The wave was called a psionic wave and it was found that placing a sheet of antimony between the core and the subject removed the wave.
Further studies found that psychics also could produce these waves but at far lower levels.
He began moving. The wave was meant to stay over the colony for another thirty minutes.
It took him five minutes to reach the factory and another five to produce a small antimony dome large enough to fit over a Tor’Karian’s head.
He hurried back to the spire and placed the dome over Pax’Bel’s head.
“The wave has stopped?” she asked, moving to take off the dome.
“No.”
“Then why can I not feel it?”
“You are wearing an antimony dome that is protecting you against the psi-wave.”
She tilted the dome and winced, lowering it back down again.
“If there is shielding, why isn’t the core shielded.”
“The psionic wave was only discovered last year and because no-one really notices the wave except very powerful psychics, shielding has not been rolled out yet.”
“Can you shield the core?”
“If you give me the core’s measurements, antimony plating and a means of transport, yes.”
“It will be my pleasure to help.” replied the Queen and waited for the wave to pass over the colony.
As soon as it had passed, the schematics of the core were brought up and a set of shielding plates was produced.
“Only problem now is transport, unlike you Tor’Karians I cannot survive out there.” said Sakara.
The Queen smiled and led him to the upper levels of the spire.
In the lift was an environmental suit from the research station and another genetically engineered creature.
It looked like a velociraptor but was covered in bone plates and had thicker legs with its forearms replaced by mantis-like blades.
“This is a venator.” said Pax’Bel. “Tor’Karian cavalry.”
“Thanks.” said Sakara, locking the helmet in place and mounting the creature.
The lift rose out of sight.
“Will he do what he must?” asked her bodyguard.
“We shall see. If he returns, he will. If he does not then he will have failed. But I believe that he already has, in that half an hour he could have carried out the plan but he didn’t.”
“He had overridden his programming?”
“His mind is strong and sympathetic to us for some reason; perhaps he feels that we are better than humanity because of the Vortron wars.”
“Does he know of Moran or of the Endless war?”
“No. For if he did then he would have killed us all.”
“And the plan?”
“There is a backup plan for this eventuality, but for now we must pray that he returns for it is our duty to our people to fall here.”
The lift doors opened and Sakara rode out into a relatively small crater in the ice. All around lay frosted bodies of EX-170’s and AN-100’s torn to shreds by the genetic weapons of the Tor’Karian colony.
“Should it come to war, I know who I am betting on to win.”
He leant forwards on the venator and it took off.
It was fast.
Very fast.
The ice plains flashed by giving him just enough time to realise that the entrance to the Tor’Karian colony was at the centre of the Pwyll crater before he was out of it.
A field of penitentes rose before him on top of an ice cliff. The hunter did not stop at the bottom but jumped up the cliff and dived into the maze. The creature charged onwards with a spire to its left before climbing the spire and launching itself into another canyon, sprinting around another spire before hurdling a shorter spire and charging up a ramp of snow to reach the relay plateau.
The venator skidded to a stop before the airlock and Sakara dismounted.
Footprints in the thin layer of snow told him that the other survivors had reached here.
It was time to rise from the dead.
It had not gone as planned. The group of survivors had been ambushed as soon as they came through the door by a group of four armed arachno-insectoids and tied up near the primary access panel to deactivate the main plasma window protecting the core.
Othella had her eyes closed and seemed to be crying.
Davrid was being tortured to enter the deactivation code.
Odis rhymed while tied up.
Yuoi was staring at the creatures with wonderment.
Lara was trying to find a way out.
“Tell us the code to your field?” clacked one of the creatures who seemed to be the leader to Davrid, forcing one of his mantis-like blades into the flesh of Davrid’s leg.
Othella looked up and spoke haltingly in a strange language.
“Mercy to us?”
The creature spun and looked at her.
“You speak Tor’Kar?”
The creature narrowed its eyes.
“Psychic” it hissed.
Lara looked at Othella.
“I begged for mercy but now it knows that I am a psychic as I read its mind in order to learn the language.” she replied to the unspoken question.
“What does it want.” asked Lara.
“To destroy the core.” Came a voice from behind them.
Both the creatures and the humans turned.
A figure in an enviro-suit stood there with an empty sack over one shoulder.
“Hu’Man.” hissed the leader.
“Greetings Vic’Fer.”
“Come to save your compatriots?”
“They are already saved”
“How?”
“Speaker of tongues he does not speak
Finder of things he will not seek
Saviour of worlds he will hate and fear
Whose name will be remembered for many a year.” said Odis.
A ship came out of Krasnikov travel overhead, drawn by the SOS message that Sakara had sent before shielding the core. It was a mile long Battlecruiser, annihilator class, armed to the teeth with plasma cannon, gunships, hellfire torpedoes and EMP’s. It was painted black with the military sector symbol emblazoned on the sides of both hangar bays that stuck out either side of the otherwise missile-like spacecraft.
Sakara moved. He charged the survivors, activating the vibro-cutter on the way an
d cutting through Davrid’s bonds.
“Run.” said Davrid and pushed Sakara towards the others, drawing his pistol and collecting the mark VII laser rifle from where it lay.
Sakara freed the others and turned to Davrid.
Gunfire had started up a few seconds ago and Sakara found Davrid in the midst of a firefight against the ballistic weaponry of the Tor’Karians.
“Run.” Davrid shouted and returned fire from behind the console.
A ship docked with the airlock and Sakara directed the others to it.
As they entered Sakara turned to see Davrid fighting thin air, he had found a metal pole that doubled for a stave and was being pushed back. The wraith struck and sliced the pole in half but Davrid just fell into another stance and fought with the two, albeit shorter, poles.
Another Wraith struck from behind and a large red stain began to grow. He struggled to hold himself up and managed to block one more blow before a slash eviscerated him.
As his entrails fell from his stomach to the ground he smiled, drawing his gun just as the wraith struck a final blow.
Davrid’s head rolled from his shoulders and a fountain of blue blood sprayed from the chest of one of the wraiths.
The airlock cycled and the scene was cut off.
They were met with raised rifles and five EX-180’s.
“They’re human.” said one of the marines.
“Any others?” asked the leader to Lara.
“No.” she replied, exhausted but relieved to see other humans.
“Okay, let’s get out of here. All units pull back to the Oblivion.”
The seven dropships pulled back from the relay station in time to see a group of Tor’Karians sprint out and stare at the leaving ships.
“Trouble with the natives?” asked one of the marines.
“It’s a long story.” replied Sakara.
What the fleeing group did not notice was the Tor’Karian clinging to the underside of the ship within the atmospheric bubble around the craft, or the Wraith with him.
On arrival at the Oblivion the survivors were placed in cryogenic storage in order to minimise the risk of infection from alien diseases.