In reality, I’m both.
But I chose to be on this ship, instead of the relative safety of The Instigator, or waiting with Theme to be shifted out if everything fell apart. Choices are more important than feelings, because they’re something you can control.
“Switching to sub-coms,” Aelon flicks switches. “Garrick, are you in range?”
“Read you loud and clear, Captain. Sub-coms functional. Comms-link and Bond disrupted. We won’t be able to call for backup.”
“I thought you were my backup.” Aelon is deadpan. His cocky mastery of this ship is on full display. If we weren’t hurtling towards a grossly superior force, I might smile.
“You’re damn right we’re your backup!” Sawoot’s voice sounds across the communicator. It’s a high tremor, vibrating with intensity. She’s had my back since day one, and there’s no one I’d rather have supporting me right now.
The Instigator grows smaller in the rear viewports of our Reaver. The Aurelian warship lumbers behind the Moon. If our mission fails, we’ve given up the element of surprise. That huge, ancient warship will be obliterated – but none of us will be around to witness Aelon’s second in command mounting a futile last stand as he buys time for the miners to escape.
I can only imagine the humans on Tarrion scurrying like ants right now, setting up stations in the jungle to hide if things go poorly during the confrontation in the skies above them.
“Start light Orb-Beam fire, forward aim,” Aelon commands. “Rhythmic – we need the Toads to know we see them coming. Otherwise, they’ll go into attack speed the instant they see us.”
Iunia and Vinicus answer by firing their Orb-Beams – lancing them forward in unison. I can’t stop staring at the beams of blue-black light as they dissipate into the emptiness of space.
The beams are darker than the emptiness of space, and yet somehow brilliant at the same time, a contradictory pulse of energy from the most powerful source in the universe.
The Beams feel hungry as I watch them, as if they’re angry they’re being wasted out into the nothingness of empty space. I get that strange feeling that the Orb powering those beams would rather be rending flesh and ripping through metal and bone than lancing the vacuum as a display of power.
The firepower into empty space was no mistake, though. Anyone witnessing it will know it’s a message.
I thought I was ready for the sight of the Toad Mothership – but the moment it appears ahead of us, my stomach lurches. I’d forgotten how big it was. Aelon’s ship is massive, but the Toad Mothership is at least three times larger.
“That’s going to look pretty when we blow it up.” Aelon’s voice is pure confidence. Instead of fear at the overwhelming size of the massive ship, he remains calm and in control. My heartbeat slows slightly because of his reassuring presence.
Iunia and Vinicus keep up the slow, steady firing. I just hope the Toads are smart enough to understand the signal, yet cautious enough to open communications instead of just sounding the attack.
“They see us.” Iunia’s voice has a thread of nervous energy beneath it. He feels the same as I do.
I take a huge breath. If I let panic grab me, I’ll hyperventilate. I’ve been in life or death situations a hundred times over, and it never gets easier, but even by my standards this is tense.
Now, we’re facing the first crucial moment. If the Toad Mothership blasts forward at full speed, opening its hanger bays and letting out its full fleet, they’ve moved beyond negotiations.
The Bond flares back into my mind. It jolts me – but it’s not at full power.
I realize I can barely sense the auras of my triad. That drip of awareness is like fresh air.
Suddenly, green lights blink in the cockpit.
Iunia checks his readings. “Comms-link restored, Captain - but it’s very weak. We barely have more range than sub-coms. Incoming transmission from the Toad Mothership.”
“Accept it.”
Iunia and Vinicus stop firing their Orb-Beams. Dead silence fills the cockpit.
The holographic projection of a Toad appears. We all turn to face him at the front of the Reaver.
This is no ordinary Toad. The huge, wet creature projected into our cockpit is flanked by a pair of Bullfrogs, the big, bulky warrior elite of their race.
The Toad himself is a massive specimen adorned by jewels and gold. I can almost smell the dank, fetid stench wafting from him. I thank the Gods that the holograph is weak. His huge warts are oozing like open sores, and if the colors were any more vibrant I’d probably throw up. For the first time in my life, I curse the heightened senses of the Bond – it lets me see everything in excruciating detail.
The Toad sits upon a floating chair, his spindly legs dangly from his huge body.
“So,” he gurgles, “you see your doom coming, Captain Aelon. Hah! It won’t matter. I don’t need surprise when I have you so outnumbered.”
He knows Aelon’s name.
That’s not ideal. Aelon’s spent his last hundreds of years killing Toads. I just hope this one hasn’t lost any friends to the leader of my triad.
“You have me at a disadvantage… You know my name...” Aelon remains glib in the face of overwhelming numbers. The Toad started to smile victoriously as Aelon started his sentence – but his bulging eyes narrow as he finishes it.
The Toad harrumphs. His cheeks wobble as he blows air out of his nose.
“That is not the only advantage Meelon has on you, Aurelian! I know you have the stolen Orbs aboard your ship. Give them to me and I may let you live!”
Aelon’s gambling for our lives, and yet he’s as cold as ice.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Meelon stiffens, as if he wasn’t expecting that ominous answer.
“My patience grows thin, Aurelian. What do you bother me for?”
“I bother you with a deal, Meelon
