1: Aurelius
I am just days away from my Alien Bride Race heat, but Rogue forces have been called out to help an ally caught with their pants down by the Nebulous Empire.
It would be easier to end our current battle with one electric Storm wave and get back to finalizing my plans for the races, but I know it will only make our allies expect it every time we arrive. Unfortunately, most Amphirans do not carry the Storm I do, or they are so far out of practice due to the Royals’ orders to keep them hidden that they wouldn’t know how to control it if they tried. And the Vinym need to know how to fight if we can’t make it. So I lock in a fresh belt of ammunition and tear up the passing berserker the old-fashioned way.
The Nebs’ smoky shields disburse the rapid fire in fractal whorls of blue light, but soon the shield will fall. I know it as the black puffs become erratic, and the blasts from our guns start to hit their marks.
Blaize, my third in command and a pale blue-purple purveyor of punishment, sets up the two Vinym we’re assisting with a rocket launcher. They’re young, just teens, and have never been in a conflict before. And they got slammed hard with reality when the empire showed up on their planet. Without our portal capabilities, we would not have arrived in time to help.
The Vinym fire off the rocket, and we watch it spiral through the air and take out a Neb fighter.
“Whoo, tagged one!” I lift a hand to the teens. Oalo high-fives me first. He’s shorter, more gold in his scaly rainbow flesh than Tro’si, who’s taller and greener in all senses of the word.
They’re both scared. So I try to keep them out of the mental trenches even if I can’t save them from the real one.
A Nebulous troop transport drops soldiers and fires at our defensive perimeter around the Vinym city of Mahon. I have to give the Vinym credit for their shields, which absorb the attacks with ease. They might be scrawny bastards that look like iridescent snakes who would rather curl up than attack, but they are intelligent and have engineered some of the sturdiest ships and shields in the galaxy. I think, before long, they might surpass us if we don’t get our shit together.
The Nebs haven’t shown much effort against the Vinym until now. But it’s clear they want something from the massive 5,000-acre survival vault the Vinym have built. It could be anything from seeds to medicine and instruction manuals, survival tools, and more.
Oalo gets on the coms. “Harden shields! Ground forces approaching!”
Up and down the line, the bubbles switch from green to red. No one can get in, but no one can get out.
“Blaize, with me!” I’m not getting stuck in a shield, unable to fight, and hoist another belt of ammo over my shoulder. Blaize grabs the launcher and case of rockets and follows me out of the trench and into the open. I point back at Oalo. “Hunker down. Shield up.”
The dome around the two teens, barely adults by Amphiran standards, turns red. Blaize and I are on our own. But when I look down the line, I see Fieri, my second in command, and Vybron, my mentor, leave their shields with their teams, too. The Rogues, the soldiers of our kind, accept the risk of dying to protect an innocent ally.
Because we are Amphiran, the first species into space in this corner of the universe, it is our sworn duty to protect everyone we can.
Unless you’re my father or any other Royal bastard who has only the Royals’ best interests in mind.
We fire at the dark gray combatants in smoky armor who rush the defense perimeter. Many fall to our guns. Many do not.
“Stars, they fuck like animals,” Blaize growls.
It’s how they try to win. Numbers.
For a moment, I think of our own. Amphirans are dying off, not because we are sick, but because we are becoming infertile. And I think it’s because we’re fighting our Storms.
My Storm wants me at ABR, claws at my insides, begging for release, certain I will find it there. But I have shit to handle first.
Blaize nearly empties his case of rockets, taking down fighters as I focus on ground forces. But it is the replacement troop transport, filled with fresh soldiers, that truly concerns me.
My gun rattles and kicks rapidly as it slams out bullets that scald the air, mowing down the masses. I don’t like it. It feels archaic. “Can’t reason with them. Wish we could.”
Blaize and I are forced to duck behind a small hill as bullets whiz over our heads. Some punch into the ground, spraying up dirt. Blaize closes his eyes.
“Hey.” I swat him in the crotch. “Are you really fucking sleeping right now?”
“I’m tired. You know I can sleep in a ditch.”
“I can too, but it’s not just our asses on the line this time!”
Blaize rolls his eyes. “Just wanted five fucking seconds!”
When the line of fire moves away, we peek up again.
The berserker passes us, turning its guns on Vinym shields. The dome over the facility holds, but a few smaller ones don’t. One second, they’re red and solid. The next, they’re green and wet and caved into the dirt.
