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11
RHIANNON
Being with the Hive was exhilarating, but it was also very troubling. Based on all the information they had given me so far, their defenses were hopelessly lacking. For all of their bravado, these men had never put together a serious counterstrike team that could operate from the ground, and that was going to be a problem.
I shook my head in astonishment at the rudimentary tools they had to work with, and soon I was scratching notes down on a piece of paper, trying to work through solutions that would keep us all from getting killed. Of course, they were convinced that the men and women piloting the ships were all the defense they needed, but I knew better. I had been aboard the Patrol's ship. I knew what kind of weapons they had and how devastating they could be. If a single one of the Patrol's missiles made it past our meager defenses, this city would be in shambles.
"What are you scribbling there?" the Commander asked, peeking over at my notes.
"Just notes. This is everything we're going to need if we want to mount a serious defense." I slid the note across the table to the man sitting across from me and waited as he scanned over it quickly.
He blinked several times before saying, "I don't think we can get all of this."
"Well, whatcanyou get me?" I asked, a bit gruffly.
"I'll look over the list and run it by Nikathy. Then I'll get back to you."
My jaw dropped. "Seriously? You're going to run it by him? Look, he brought me here because he knew I could help. If you're going to waste everyone's time, you're going to get us all killed."
"That's not what he told me," he said with obvious disdain. "He told me you were here so you wouldn't be in his way. I think he called this... busy work?"
I felt my face growing hot with fury, and tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back. I would not be humiliated like this by some wannabe commando with a low budget army.
"Call him, then," I said coldly. "I'm sure he'll appreciate hearing how you've decided to disregard his direct order to listen to me."
I sat back, daring him to make the next move, but he seemed to think better of it.
"Maybe we can take a trip to the depot and see what we've got," he offered lamely.
"That's what I thought. Is there a truck parked around here somewhere? We're going to need to haul some stuff." I couldn't hide the triumphant smirk on my face any longer. Maybe now he'd see things my way. "Oh yeah, I'm also going to need you to give me a lift." I looked down at my legs.
Ordinarily, I would have been sad, or perhaps disgusted, by the way they just hung limply off the chair, but there was something strangely satisfying about forcing this commander to carry me about. I could almost laugh at the bewildered look on his face if the situation weren't so dire.
"What sort of plan do you have worked out?" he asked, after he got us both settled into an old truck.
"Too hard to explain," I answered, waving for him to turn around and get us moving. We didn't have time to waste.
Soon, we were pulling up to an old hangar that looked like it housed the remnants of a thousand decommissioned ships.
"Okay. Let's do this," I said with a sigh.
He scrambled out of the transport and pushed aside the rusty old door so we could pull the truck inside. I quickly discovered rows and rows of parts and weapons, sorted by type and size. I pored over them, instructing him to slow down as I examined one stack of crates after another and weighed my options. Unfortunately, this was the easy part. I was still going to have to modify these weapons to make them a viable defense for Kychek, and that was going to take some work.
"Grab those! And two of those," I said, pointing at a set of rocket launchers that looked like they hadn't seen the light of day for a decade or two.
The man did as he was told, shouldering the weapons and dropping them in the bed of the truck. In the meantime, I scanned the scrap metal all around me for anything that might be of use. Without proper tools and supplies, it would be a miracle if I made this work. Eventually, I settled on a few bits of scrap that looked useful, and waited for him to load them up.
"Where to, now?" the man asked, and I could tell he was nervous about all this, but didn't want to risk upsetting me.
"The estate!"
His face scrunched up questioningly, as if he wasn't precisely sure which estate I was speaking of.
“Nikathy’s place? Or his father’s. The founder's estate! Whatever you people call that place. I don't know, just take me there."
Recognition dawned on his face, but rather than complying with my demands, he shook his head. Another refusal.
"We can't wage war from the estate. We need to take all this back to the Hive," he asserted.
Desperation clawed at me, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. My hands were sweating, and those tears were back in my eyes, threatening to turn me into some sort of hysterical lunatic. I had to hold it together. I had to convince him.
"Take me to the estate. I know what I am doing." I could barely force the words out between my teeth.
There was a tense moment, and I drew heavy breaths in through my nose, willing him to just cooperate with me. But then a sound blared from the truck's speakers, jarring us both with its intensity. It was an announcement. Nikathy's voice filled the space, warning us that the Patrol was coming. The warning played over and over, and when I rolled down the window, I heard it echoing across the city, broadcast from every available speaker.
I watched as the commander's face drained of color, and his eyebrows raised in a synchronized motion of surprise. Without another word, he started the transport forward, and we were on our way.
I slumped back in my seat, relieved to finally have him on my team. I was going to need more help.
As we drove, I watched through the windows as the city passed, looking strangely depressed in its abandoned state. At least the residents seemed to heed the call to action. Nikathy must have worked fast to get everyone to safety. For that, I had to give him credit. It was never easy to convince people to act in their own best interests. Especially when you were the outsider.
